neverbackdownnn-deactivated2011 asked: Helloo
just wondering, is this shit real?
or are u making a story or something
cos if u are, its pretty good ya knoww
Hmmm, well, not sure how to answer this. I mean I wouldn’t know if I was a fictional character, and if I was, and readily admitted to it, then my creator might decide I was thinking for myself, and such dangerous behaviour might get me erased. This is even more frustrating a thought than being in a big white room. So I’ll go ahead and say this is real, but you can’t say I don’t think like an intelligent person. Unlike bloody Doug. But cheers for taking an interest, I suppose.
Dear The World,
I am seriously getting p*ssed with the people in this room. Catherine’s moody as usual, getting grumpy at me and missing her husband. Doug has started speculating that we are all part of some sick TV game show that’s trying to get us to eat each other. He’s a paranoid freak. I found out the other day he’s been recording his conversations with us. He has loads on his MP3 player. It’s bloody annoying.
Tom’s been pestering me to let him have a go on my phone. I won’t. It’s my phone and I’ll hold on to it, thanks very much.
Still not much closer to figuring our way out of this mess.
- Doug: Nice bracelet
- Catherine: What? Oh thanks, it was a gift.
- Doug: From who?
- Catherine: Oh, erm, my husband. Cost way too much, I told h-him, that it was pointless but he bought it anyway.
- Doug: Nice of him. I bought my wife some jewellery once.
- Catherine: What did you get her?
- Doug: Necklace. I thought, seems sensible, I mean, she can only have a certain sized neck, so...
- Catherine: Ha ha, that's good. I can see why you do comic strips.
- Doug: Thank you. Not much for drawing yourself?
- Catherine: Not usually, I much prefer painting. It's harder, but at the end of it you can do a lot more with paint. I can draw though; I always sketch what I'm going to paint before I start.
- Doug: Yeah. But, I mean, what do you paint, anyway? Does it have any sort of purpose?
- Catherine: Well usually I'll just paint what comes to mind, you know? Can't push these things. I often do flowery things though. I painted a rose for my husband while we were engaged. He loves roses.
- Doug: Right. What's his name?
- Catherine: Oh, erm. Jack.
- Doug: 'Kay.
- Catherine: What's your wife's name?
- Doug: Er, Leanne. Met her in a bar one night.
- Catherine: That's a nice name. I was actually considering that for the baby.
- Doug: So it's a girl?
- Catherine: Well, we're not sure yet, but I have a strong suspicion. For a boy I was thinking Claude, after Debussy, the pianist.
- Doug: Right. Claude? Isn't that name a bit... well, gay?
- Catherine: Erm, right, well, I don't know what you mean by THAT. How can a name be gay?
- Doug: I mean, it sounds like... Well, just 'Er, HELEARUGH, my name is Claude', you know what I'm saying? No offence.
- Catherine: What, offence? Why would I take offence? I'm not gay... Not that it matters, you don't have to be gay to know you're an idiot.
- Doug: I know, I - wait, I'm not. Just... Look, I didn't mean anything against gay people. I have a gay friend, its cool, OK?
- Catherine: Oh, so you're one of those people, "I have lots of gay friends!". I never believe it. If you have any gay friends they are probably closetted heterosexuals.
- Doug: Well, I mean I used to have a gay friend. No, seriously.
- Catherine: Ha! Used to. You're funny.
- Doug: Look, I met him working at the docks. And his name WAS Claude, that's what I'm-
- Catherine: Oh of course, if one gay persons name is Claude then ALL the Claude's must be gay...
- Doug: No, I'm not... I'm just saying, it sounds a bit like... OK. Look, I'm not against gays, seriously.
- Catherine: Fine, okay, I mean I don't care, I'm not gay.
- Doug: Just my granddad, he walked around all the time talking about how much he hated queers. And I dunno...
- Catherine: What?! So because your grandfather was a biggotted nitwit, you want to be one too?
- Doug: Well being gay is not something I know a lot about. He used to warn me when I was a kid, telling me not to go out at night or some queer would get me. And I realise NOW that he was a twisted old fucker, but that shit sticks with you, you know?
- Catherine: No I don't know, do tell.
- Doug: I grew up with my granddaddy telling me that going out in the street at night would get you gang-fucked by some cloud of gays, and the fear stuck with me. I mean, call me old-fashioned, but I just fear the unknown. And, you know, stuff like that. I KNOW NOW that most gays are alright, so can you stop this?
- Catherine: Right, OK, I'm sorry, I'm used to dealing with people being idiots about this stuff.
- Doug: You got a gay friend?
- Catherine: Erm, yes, a few...
- Doug: Yeah, so, sorry, yeah, I understand
- Me: (trying to do Tumblr post) Will you guys shut the fuck up?
- Catherine: Huh. I hate that guy.
- Doug: Go talk to him
- Me: (getting hacked off) I'm making a post here actually, trying to get us out, but it's impossible to think with all the fucking talking!
- Catherine: I tried talking to him. He kept... staring.
- Doug: Yeah, I noticed. Bet he's a pervert.
- Catherine: Don't know what he thinks he's doing on the internet... If we don't know where we are, I doubt anyone else will. I suppose it's worth a shot, but God, I don't want him to be speaking for us.
- Doug: I tell you, he needs to stop swearing like he does. I mean, there's at least one kid in here who can understand. Two, if your one can hear it from in there.
- Catherine: Yeah, with the amount he goes on the baby'll come out with a bleep button.
- Doug: (laughing) Yeah, maybe
- Catherine: I wonder what he's posting about us anyway...
- Doug: Probably putting slander about us.
- Catherine: Yeah. Do you want to go check on Giselle again? She's been sitting in the corner for a while...
- Doug: Yeah, I'll go see if she's OK. She doesn't talk to Tom much, does she?
- Catherine: No. If they did they probably wouldn't understand each other. Maybe we should get them to make friends?
- Doug: Marcus is looking at you again. Give him a punch from me. I'll go talk to Giselle.
- Catherine: I'll give him more than a punch; I'll sit on him if I have to!
- Doug: Don't. He might get the wrong idea.
Dear The World,
(though I doubt anyone is actually reading this…)
It’s been a few days since my last post. We’ve been busy arguing. Giselle has done nothing but bloody panic. Doug says he knows some french and starts VERY roughly translating in that stupid Morgan Freeman voice of his (Christ knows I don’t need that all day). It’s not even as if the girl even says anything interesting, it’s all ‘I want my mum’ and stuff.
Catherine’s telling me not to be so cruel. She doesn’t like me, which is a shame. If she wasn’t already pregnant I definitely would. However, she regards me with some degree of hostility. Her face when I asked mid-argument if I could call her Cathy…
We’re doing fairly OK, got food, and a toilet materialised in our sleep, it seems. But there’s f**k-all to do except argue with the others.
Still don’t know why we’re here. We want answers.
Dear The World,
It’s been a whole day since I woke up in this room. Four people in here with me and none of us have any idea what’s going on. This morning there was food here. But we want out.
The other four are Tom, Catherine, Doug and Giselle. We all had a problem with Giselle because she kept crying and saying stuff in french. And Catherine has become the Swear Police.
If you know where we are, please get us out. I have a f**king life and I want to get on with it, you know?
I am not happy.
Dear The World,
I am in a big white room with four strangers. We have no idea why we are here or how to get out. There are no doors or windows. PLEASE HELP.