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The Lower Blogosphere Burns with the Intensity of a Thousand Suns.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

The Passion of the Roboshrub II

As the sun set, Vince O’Neil looked out through the thicket that had been his home for the last two weeks. Some day I’ll get home, he thought. It had now been two weeks (though it seemed longer) since Vince had gotten lost in this harsh forest. What had started as a simple hike had turned deadly once the bears had shown up. They descended without warning upon the campers, and with their ferocious roars and razor-sharp claws had scattered the frightened children throughout the dark wood. Running had not been easy for the 300 pound middle schooler, but the threat of being devoured by grizzlies proved to be all the motivation he needed to outrun his slimmer friends. The first two days had been the hardest, finding blood-stained bits of clothes and empty canteens among the wrecked campsite. Each night he could hear the bears’ demonic howls, but he could tell they were getting farther away as the days passed. Left with no food, water, or shelter, Vince knew it was only a matter of time before help came. Until then he would have to survive.

During his time in a juvenile hall for (unwillingly) stealing government property, Vince had tried to escape- not literally, of course, but through his imagination. The facility had an extensive library, and Vince spent many a night reading about far off places. One of those books chronicled the life of a man who was marooned on an island for several years. He managed to survive by eating vermin and insects, and drinking the sweet juice of the coconut. Too bad I’m not stranded on a desert island, Vince grumbled listlessly. The forest had no coconut trees or vermin; even the insects looked puny. Survival would be a challenge in this dense wasteland. Luckily, the grizzlies that destroyed his campsite and eaten his friends hadn’t figured out how to open the cooler wherein all their lunches resided. Stupid bears, thought Vince. They could have had ham! Fighting his urge to eat all the sandwiches the first day, a careful rationing system was devised. But all the food in the world couldn’t stop the dreams.

Dreams? They were more like nightmares. When Vince closed his eyes, he saw his friends- and the bears. He could hear their screams as the tried to run, but he knew the bears were quicker. Sometimes it was only one bear. A giant demonic bear, wearing bronzed armor and holding a glistening golden sword. “Foolish human!” the bear shouted. “You have already lost!” Every morning Vince woke up with a scream, looking around for the evil bear king. And every morning it wasn’t there. The dreams only made him more paranoid. At night he listened to the howls of the bears. After the first week he couldn’t hear them anymore. They’re gone! I’m finally safe!

As the days turned into weeks and then into fortnights, Vince began to lose hope. Living out in the forest changed him. Surviving out in the wilderness gave Vince a new outlook on life, and it wasn’t just psychological. He managed to lose more than half his weight, going from being morbidly obese to merely hefty. He became an adept hunter, learning how to track and catch small birds and whatever animals he could find. Vince O’Neil was no longer a video game addicted couch potato. He stared the world in the eyes, and the world blinked. The cooler full of prepackaged food ran out a while ago, but Vince thought nothing of it. He thought less and less about civilization, about rescue. Then once fateful day, he heard laughter. Not the demonic laughter of the bear king, but human laughter.

What was this? It appeared to Vince to be some kind of company picnic; there were people everywhere eating food, small children playing, and some band giving a rendition of an old Elvis song. A huge group of people were congregated around a central station of some kind, cheering at one of the biggest TVs ever made. As Vince walked up to the screen he began to feel déjà vu. When he saw what was on the screen, his jaw dropped. It was him! These people were cheering at him as they watched him capture a sparrow. Turning around, Vince had another revelation: these were his friends! The same friends he thought had been ripped apart by wild grizzlies, alive and well! “Don’t worry, Vincent. Everything will be fine,” came a voice from behind Vince. Spinning his head with unnatural quickness, he came face to face with the demon from his dreams- the bear king himself!


“Will he ever recover?” asked Vince’s mom, looking into the small chamber where Vince sat, his eyes darting back and forth. “It’s hard to say. Vincent suffered what we in the business call ‘a shock’. He just couldn’t take it all in, and he just snapped.” Looking up from his pad, the doctor frowned. “But then again, what did you expect when Fox picked him for that insane new reality show, ‘Survivor: Bear Edition’?”

There have been 4 Cries of Anguish:

Blogger Gyrobo maliciously intimated...

In case anyone was wondering, here's the original Passion of the Roboshrub.

9/21/2005 6:36 PM  
Blogger Roboshrub Incorporated maliciously intimated...

Aw, man. I wasn't even in this one. Nor Destructobob. Just that idiot Vincent who did whatever she told him.

Still, nice work, chronicalling the story of my creation. Your salary had been doubled.

9/21/2005 8:37 PM  
Blogger Adjuster maliciously intimated...

Talk about the passion! Which version should we believe? Perhaps there is a third, apocryphal Passion of Roboshrub that provides the key to unlocking the mysteries of the first two.

By the way, it
has started, and I have Endtime Insurance packages available at very reasonable rates.

9/21/2005 10:48 PM  
Blogger Roboshrub Incorporated maliciously intimated...

There's always the story about how Vincent escaped his captivity under the brain-numbing device installed in his cell by the government and freed the time-cube. That one pretty much wraps it all up.

I think that happened, anyway. Who can know for sure?

9/22/2005 3:28 PM  

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