This is going to be a short story written ON THE SPOT in ONE GO. It will also be HARD TO READ and FILLED WITH CAPITALIZATION. I plant to write it in screenplay format. That's just how this playa rollz, nigga. Fo' real.
(We open on two young gentlemen by the names of Pilot Light and Argyle Socks. Pilot is the brave hero. He is a fine lad somewhere around the age of 21, has a girlfriend named Weekday who also happens to be a window (glass, plastic, and all), and he can occasionally be a bit detached from reality. Argyle is his best friend. Argyle is laying on the couch watching t.v. Nobody knows how the couch watches t.v., but it doesn't seem to mind if you sit or lay on it, so nobody says anything. Argyle is watching t.v., too, by the way. ilot is on the phone. Ssh. Be quiet.)
Pilot: Yes, Mr. President. No, Mr. President. Maybe, Mr. President. Oh, that's all I know of the Malcolm in the Middle theme song. You're welcome, Mr. President. ~hangs up the phone~
Argyle: ~takes a bite of a chip~ Who was that?
Pilot: The President. He said that there were some killer cellphones in Houston. Then he wanted me to try to remember the words to some They Might Be Giants songs.
Argyle: Does he want us to investigate the cellphone stuff?
Pilot: Yeah, but I told him I couldn't.
Pilot: It's BORING.
Argyle: Of course. Also, I stopped asking questions. That's a plus.
Pilot: Yeah, man. It's been like four days now. Questions non-stop.
Argyle: Yep. Pretty crazy. So what do you wanna do today? ~grits teeth~ DAMMIT.
Pilot: I dunno. What do YOU wanna do today?
Argyle I dunno.
Pilot: I know! Let's have a PARTY!
Pilot: You're right. It's been done before. C'mon! ORIGINAL THOUGHTS.
Pilot & Argyle: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuh...
23 and 1/2 days later
Pilot & Argyle: Uuuuuuuuuuuuh...
Argyle: ...uuuh I KNOW!
Argyle: Let's do NOTHING.
Argyle: Hm, you may be catching what I had. Anyway, you do it like this.
~Argyle opens the front door, walks outside, closes the door, then proceeds to burst into the room~
Pilot: Who's Jerry?
Argyle: I dunno.
Pilot: Well, I don't like this idea. It sounds too Jewish.
Argyle: Got any better ideas?
Pilot: Plenty. And none of those ideas involve having large noses or counting money, so NYAH.
Argyle: Well, let's here it.
Pilot: You mispelled that.
Argyle: How can you tell? And why did the word "hyperbole" just pop in my head?
Pilot: Because I have SUPER EARS. Anyway, I have an idea. We should go on an amazing quest to find the last remaining supply of Mr. Pibb. It's totally original. Plus, I'm oh-so-thirst-ay.
Argyle: They sell Mr. Pibb at the Todd's Big Star down the street, y'know.
(The author would like to take this moment to thank Todd's Big Star for their sponsorship. That is, please sponsor us and give us money. Please?)
Pilot: Oh. Well we can quest to TODD'S BIG STAR! I get to drive!
~Later - In the car in the driveway~
Argyle: Do you really need to pick something to listen to on your iPod? It's like a five minute drive, tops.
Pilot: Ssh. This is a delicate process. Sorry that I'm not happy listening to FERGIE like YOU.
Argyle: Hey. Fergie's HOT, man.
Pilot: Well, last time I checked, technology has not gotten to the point where you can hear Fergie's delicious, delicious breasts on the radio, so your argument is null and void. BINGO! Here's a good song.
~The two pull out of the driveway and head to Todd's Big Star, which is visible in the distance.~
2 Hours Later
Argyle: How did you get lost? How did I LET you get lost? All you had to do was drive straight!
Pilot: Well, I had to turn! you didn't see that detour sign?
Argyle: I saw a CHURCH sign.
Pilot: To-may-to, to-shracking-mah-to, man. You want a bunch of people swarming the car, trying to get us to boycott peanuts because "Oh, there are two nuts in the same shell and that's gay and shit. Praise Jesus!"
Argyle: I really doubt that will happen. Ever.
Pilot: Oh, what a fool you are.
Argyle: Look, I think we can make a right turn here and get on a main road.
~Pilot turns and they get on a main road. A while later, and they are in front of Todd's Big Star.~
Pilot: WHAT A QUEST THIS HAS BEEN. Now to buy some delicious mescaline. I mean Mr. Pibb. Sorry. Freudian slip.
~INSIDE TODD'S BIG STAR~
Pilot: Let's see. Bread aisle, cereal aisle, Chinese aisle, Chinese baby aisle, white kids who obsess over Asian shit aisle, Answers for why we have so many Asian aisles aisle, running out of aisle jokes aisle...Ah! Soda aisle.
~The two head down the aisle and get to where the Mr. Pibb should be.~
Pilot: Gasps! It's not there! Oh, wait, here it is.
Argyle: that's a Chinese baby.
Pilot: Dammit. ~drops baby~ Dear God... It's all gone. Hath Hell frozen over? DOTH SATAN DON HIS MIGHTY DORA THE EXPLORER SNOW BOOTS? OH WHAT HORROR!
Man: Excuse me.
Pilot: WHO BE YE?!
Argyle: Sorry. He's overacting a bit because they're out of his favorite drink.
Man: That would be my doing.
Pilot: You drank all the Pibb? I hope the tinkle fairy makes your bladder explode.
Man: Tinkle fairy?
Argyle: Long story.
Man: Ah. Well, no, I did not drink all of that particular brand of soda. I did, however, hide all of it.
Pilot: Can I see it? Where is it? LET ME SEE MY BABY.
Man: yes, your actions and manner of speak prove you to be the one we have waited for.
Argyle: What are you talking about?
Man: Do you know the name of the store in which you stand?
Pilot: Connie's Taco?
Argyle: Sorry, he's a bit delusional at the moment. Todd's Big Star.
Man: yes. And do you know how it got its name?
Vin Diesel: No.
Pilot: Vin, did you forget that restraining order? GET THE shrack OUT OF HERE.
Argyle: Aw. How do you say goodbye to the only mentally challenged action star you know?
Vin: You DON'T.
Man: Yes, well the name. It was named Todd's Big Star after the founder of the store. Contrary to popular belief, it was not named "Big Star" because Todd was retarded and pronounced it that way, giving away groceries at such low prices because he didn't know the value of a dollar.
Argyle: Wow. Two retard jokes in one page.
Man: Yes. They are easy, but they work. Anyway, the store is named after the prophecy that Todd, who was a great prophet if given the proper "herbal supplements," left. The prophecy goes that a great man who speaks of Mr. Pibb and Dora the Explorer will come and save us from the horrible tyranny.
Pilot: That sounds reta-
Argyle: Woah. Watch the retard joke count.
Pilot: ...Hungarian. That sounds Hungarian.
Argyle: Good. Can never have too many Hungarian jokes.
(We would like to take this moment to say that we have nothing against any Hungarians reading this. But since there aren't any (Hungarians can't read, y'know), oh well.)
Man: So, will you save us from the horrible tyranny?
Pilot: Well, what is the tyranny?
Man: We...don't know. We thought you would.
Pilot: The only tyranny I can see is that of me not having Mr. Pibb. I can solve THAT, if you want.
Man: But, the prophecy! It must be fulfilled!
Argyle: Maybe you misread the prophecy. It could have said that Pilot was supposed to save you from the TRANNY.
Man: But that doesn't make sense.
Argyle: Makes as much sense as "tyranny" does.
Pilot: Yeah. It could be talking about that "Right Round" guy. What's his face?
Argyle: I don't remember.
Pilot: Well, anyway, it could be talking about him. If so, I don't think there's any way to defeat him. May God have mercy on us all.
Argyle: The man speaks truth.
Man: Look, I would find it very nice if you could just humor us and help us out.
Man: Defeat the tyranny!
Pilot: But you don't even know that there is one! What if I said that I had already beat it?
Argyle: (Heh. "Beat it.")
Man: Did you?
Man: Well, why haven't you?
Pilot: IT DOESN'T EXIST.
Man: But it does! It's in the prophecy!
Argyle: Would it be possible for us to see the prophecy? Did Todd write it down?
Man: Yes. Yes, he did. Follow me.
~They all go to some room in the back, where there is a pedestal with a big light shining down on it. The man picks something up from the pedestal.~
Man: The prophecy!
Argyle: Is that a Wendy's napkin?
Pilot: Wendy's serves Mr. Pibb...
Man: It is the prophecy. Todd wrote it after finishing his spicy chicken sandwich, but before eating his frosty.
Argyle: Sounds legit.
Man: Oh, it's very legit. Here, look. ~hands napkin to Argyle~
Argyle: This only has a ketchup stain on it.
Man: We believe it to be a code of some sort.
Vin Diesel: And so Pilot and Argyle went home, but not before telling the Bible-thumpers that Todd's Big Star sold peanuts. At discount prices. Then they went to see Fast & Furious, now in theaters.
Pilot: No we didn't.
Vin Diesel: Gimme a Corona.