Triggered Tommie; Tantrum x Ten

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Review Chain
Triggered Tommie came to be went my parents saw....... Curvy barbie.

Submitted: September 25, 2016

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Submitted: September 25, 2016

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Once upon a time there was an all-American, tall, white, god fearing, man. This man was Tommie, but unlike his other white, American, religious counter parts, he was complete insane. Tommie, also know as the green-eyed monster or the hungry hulk, was always getting triggered everyday all day. In the shower, triggered. Praise the lord, triggered. Shopping for soup, triggered. Petting his dog, triggered. Seeing a butterfly, triggered. He even had to go to the doctors, and was diagnosed will not only uncontrollable anger, but uncontrollable muscle spasm. This is Triggered Tommie; this is his story.

“Tommie, you’re not alright. You have serious problems.” Dr. Erle said blandly.

“I know there’s something wrong with me, I’m not here to watch doctor Phil in the waiting room. You a doctor, start doctoring gosh-dang it!” Tommie spat with much aggravation.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Good boy. As for a cure, there is none. Have a wonderful day! Please leave the premises before you scare off my patients that mostly have nothing wrong with them.” 

“What about my anger, and muscle spasms?” Tommie asked quietly, his anger was already flaming inside his body like poorly made Thai food.

“I’m a doctor, not God. Sorry sir, now I have kindly asked once to leave my establishment, and I have to ask again you’ll be leaving in hand cuffs. Oh, and don’t come here again. Not because of all your problems, it’s just that you intimidate me, and that’s no bueno, chico. Be gone.” Dr. Erle dismissed with a flick of his hand, sending a Triggered Tommie to the streets of Austin Texas. Texas, where all the good people live. Tommie jumped into his bright blue Prius, making it shake like an earthquake, form tommie wasn’t a small guy. He had muscles on muscles, it was almost frightening how built this man was. It was unnatural. He jammed out to Mariah Carey, because in Tommie’s words, all that pop crap made his blood boil. Justin Bieber? More like Jesus Believer! No matter how many people pointed out that was in a Cleveland Show episode, Tommie always denied. He was would never taint his Christian ears with such garbage.

Tommie pulled into his office, to which he worked, not owned. He stared with much frustration at the small building that radiated the scent of last week’s lasagna. He hated working at this sweat shop. Talking phone call for annoying customers.  The bath bomb business was booming, and Tommie couldn’t keep up.

“Sir, what is the difference between lemon margarine and black cherry?” A woman had asked Tommie over the phone for customer service.

“Um I don’t know, maybe the fact that one is lemon margarine and another is black cherry.” Tommie sassed into his headphone.

“Oh, are they eatable?”

“Ma’am read the directions, that’s what they’re there for.” He sighed, feeling himself becoming triggered.

“Well you’re absolutely no help. The letter to I’m going to write about you…...” And just like that she hung up, phone call over.

“How… I….” Tommie stuttered his rage unstoppable. He bit his lip so hard that blood dribble down his muscle spasming neck. He hopped up and down in his wheelie chair, knocking all the items off his desk like a helicopter. He couldn’t hear the screams of his coworkers, it was being drowned out by his rage. Of course this was only the first episode he had experienced at work, it wasn’t the last.

Tommie cringed at the memory, the day when everyone stopped smiling at him, the day when he was dubbed the hungry hulk, and the green-eyed monster. This was his life now. He sighed while Mariah sang the bridge of Touch My Body. He had to go back, he had to face his judgmental coworkers. Worst of all, he had to see Deborah.

Deborah was a nice lady. She was Tommie’s age, had a nice complex, good personality, and Tommie like her very much. Well, at least not any more.  His affection for the petite, stunning, blue-eyed wonder died in the late years of 08, and hers for him. 08 was a dark time for Tommie. Tommie had thought they were perfect, and so did Deborah. That was until Deborah introduced her daughter, a product from her last husband Jamaal. Tommie wasn’t bothered by the idea, though it did contradict his beliefs, he embraced it for Deborah. He bought flowers, and combed his matching blonde hair. He loved that Deborah and he had the same hair color, and enjoyed it even more when people called them Ken and Barbie. He was joyous that day, and skipped happily all the way to his car. He drove up to Deborah condo singing J T, feeling like he was on cloud nine. He was greeted by Deborah, and her daughter Safi. Her daughter looked nothing like her mother. She had beautiful dark skin, and soft chocolate eyes that matched her voluminous hair. Tommie came into their quant house hold smiling and kissed Deborah on the cheek. They sat and had dinner and everything was perfect. Until topic of Deborah’s divorce came up.

“I know you don’t believe in divorce, and hope that this doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” Deborah said calmly and with a nice smile.

“No it doesn’t bother me, you must have a good reason.”

“Well. To be honest, it’s a funny story.” She giggled, making Tommie nervous.

“He wanted to get gold spoons instead of silver spoons.” She laughed, triggering Tommie. His Calvin Cline grey t-shirt shredded off his body like a lizard shedding its skin. He gritted his teeth, holding his breath. He then lost control.

“You disobeyed God over spoons?” He yelled exasperated, and started screaming untellable words, sending her mash potatoes flying and ultimately destroying the dinner. His face was beet red, and his veins were bulging like mountains under his skin. Hulk was back. He stormed out of Deborah’s condo, ripping the door off and throwing it into the neighbor’s yard. He never saw Deborah again, she switched location of stores and dyed her hair black. Now she was back, and Tommie was triggered more than ever.

“I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and gay, and I pity, any girl who isn’t me today.” He sung as he strolled into the Bath Boom office/ factory to which he worked. He caught the stink eye from Dave, and Lain from shipping. He wasn’t fazed though; they weren’t worth his time. He finally made it to his cubicle feeling normal. He hummed Andy Grammar’s Gotta Keep Your Head Up, and quietly worked. He felt a small poke on his back, and turned to find Dan Schemer’s child standing in front of him. The pale, ghostly like spawn was hold a curvy Barbie. Tommie starred with pure hate at the plastic disgrace. How dare the corporations cave in and cater to their customers! He ripped the doll out of the half German’s hands and snapped it into two over his knees. He screamed like the savage he truly was. He stood on his desk and beeted his now bared chest with his balled up fists. He. Was. Not. A. Happy. Bunny. He was yelling words that weren’t words, punching Merle, the old woman from accounting, and eating Alec’s sales report. He was deranged. He was more triggered than a Femmanazi on Tumblr. He was done, and after his tantrum, so was his career. This was Triggered Tommie, this was his story.

 

 


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