“I’m sorry sir but I’m going to have to ask you to leave the children’s ball pit” said the McDonalds manager. “I lost everything, everything in my life… gone… and now I’ve been reduced to licking ketchup stains off a filthy ball pit floor all because I couldn’t stop gambling” said Peter. “Well if you don’t leave we’re going to have to get out the homeless person beating stick which we call Geralt. So unless you want an epic beating from 7 McDonald’s employees I suggest you leave.” With that Peter got out of the ball pit and exited the restaurant, much to the disappointment of the employee for Geralt would not be able to be used today. Wandering the humid streets of Las Vegas, Peter made his way to the one room apartment he called home.
Peter’s apartment was the filthiest thing you ever saw, there was no bathroom so he had to use the sink or a shoe he found in the trash. Outside the only window there was a large sign advertising strippers, the neon pink glare and the screeching mechanical grinding made it near impossible to sleep. Collapsing on a sample book of shag carpeting Peter passed out. 3 hours later Peter awoke to the sight of his landlord standing over him. “It’s time for your daily shooting” said Boomshake. “Oh, 3:19 am already?” said Peter. Boomshake pulled out a hot pink Desert Eagle and 3 bullets to each leg and 2 bullets to the left arm later Peter was calling the ambulance driver. Jeremy arrived in about 10 minutes with a med kit. The deal was that since Peter could not pay for any medical service, Jeremy would harvest Peter’s blood and then take out all the bullets. After some pleasant chit chat and 40 minutes of siphoning blood the ambulance driver took out the bullets and left. All of that blood loss made Peter hungry so he decided to get some food.
The only thing Peter could afford to buy from the money he received panhandling and performing various sexual acts on strangers for 9 cents were Hungry Man frozen dinners. The only problem posed by buying these meals was that Peter did not have a microwave. He was forced to suck on the disgusting frozen popsicle meal until he got to the ice cold and dry steak. Chewing on that steak was like chewing on a piece of meat that was sprinkled in sand and then beaten on a slab of cold rock. The potatoes were the worst; Peter would chew the powdered mash of filth until he could chew no more. Once he finished throwing up into his shoe/toilet Peter decided to do something about his awful life. Walking to the maid’s closet apartment, Peter kicked down the door and stole some Windex.
Making his way back to his horrendous apartment Peter decided he would kill himself with the Windex. He set the bottle to laser mode and began spritzing blue poison into his stomach. 48 spritzes later Peter was on the floor throwing up. His insides felt like they were melting and on fire at the same time. Peter instantly regretted his decision and prayed for someone to save him. At that moment fate intervened, a jet black boot had just busted open the door. Boomshake stood there staring at Peter, the sight of him on the ground writhing in his own vomit made Boomshake realize something. If Peter died, who would he shoot every day??? All the other tenants paid their rent and would tell the police if he shot them. He needed to save Peter so he called Pizza Hut and ordered a medium meat lovers pizza combo with drinks and fries. Then he called 911. Jeremy got there just in time to find Boomshake eating pizza and trying to shove some French fries into Peter’s mouth. “Thank goodness you got here! I tried to put some food into his belly but I suppose he just doesn’t like Pizza Hut” exclaimed Boomshake. “That’s okay! Give me a couple pieces and I’ll shove them down his throat on the way!” said Jeremy. With that Peter was strapped down to a stretcher and on his way to a hospital.
In the hospital parking lot Jeremy was still trying to shove some pizza into Peter’s mouth. Jeremy decided that perhaps Peter really didn’t like Pizza Hut. So he got him out of the ambulance and wheeled him into the building. The doctors had never seen someone try to commit suicide with Windex. While pumping his stomach they gave Peter the nickname “Mr. Clean” and shaved his head. This just made Peter feel worse so after the operation he stole a scalpel and came up with a plan. When the doctor would come into Peters room to check on him he would kill the doctor and get a nice clean cell in state prison. Pretending to be asleep Peter silently waited. The doctor came in with a nurse and began checking some papers. “Nurse, I think this patient has finally died. Harvest all his organs and throw him into the trash bin outside.” said the doctor “Yes sir” replied the nurse. After the nurse left to get what looked like a large knife Peter jumped out of bed and slashed the doctor in the throat. He had done it! Now he just had to be captured by hospital security and put in a nice jail cell. After several patients realized a doctor had just been assassinated everyone ran off in different directions screaming. Then he was tackled by a large black security guard and beaten. The police arrived shortly and took off with Peter to the station.
A short trial sentenced Peter to 35 years in prison. Prison was not the awesome place he saw it to be in his mind. He was raped at least 4 times a day and the prison guards would beat him as a group exercise. Sitting in his jail cell Peter finally knew why his life had been so horrible. He had always tried to do everything the easy and fast way. Peter cheated on a test in University and got kicked out. Instead of getting a job he moved away from his family in New York and went to Las Vegas. Once he started gambling he didn’t stop and lost all his money. Peter needed to start doing things right so with this new outlook on life he volunteered in the cafeteria. Perhaps with enough hard work and good behaviour Peter could make it out of prison faster. If he did, he would get a decent job and live a better life. But at that moment his prison cellmate walked in and shanked him with a Push-Pop fashioned into a sharp blade. Peter died from massive blood loss and went to hell for stealing a sample book of shag carpeting.
The End
The Worst Life Ever is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Canada License.
Based on a work at iliekstories.wordpress.com.
