Just One Big Misunderstanding

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Travel to other dimensions in this action-packed, long, short-story! Don't worry, it's not as cheesy as this blurb... Oh, yeah... By the way... You may be confused by the newspaper articles. They are based on characters from my friends' projects.

Just One Big Misunderstanding

“I’m not doing it!” Jonathan Janson screamed. He was walking out of a grey glass office building.

“Oh, come on,” Bob Mackenzie replied in a calmer tone, “you’ve gotten so far already. It’s the very last challenge in the competition!”

Yes, they were in a competition. The contest was called ‘Top Writers Internationally Together’, and the winner gets a $1,000,000 prize. The contestants each have a bunch of challenges, and they can work on them at home, and 2 of them are eliminated after every challenge. There were 5 lucky groups left, including Bob and Jon, who needed to write a story about alternate dimensions.

“That humbajumba,” Jon exclaimed, “is pointless!”

Bob blankly replied with, “I disagree. In an alternate dimension it might be possible.”

“You don’t understand, do you!?!?” Jon blared as he motioned for a taxi. “I’m not writing about anything that I think, and is, totally stupid! You don’t know anything!!!”

The taxi ride home was silent. Even though Jon felt bad for his uneducated friend, but that didn’t stop Jon from being mad at the poor soul. How could someone believe in that bogusness? Jon just couldn’t conceive of a way that was possible!

Anyway, Bob and Jon were a perfect duo. Jon was way shorter than Bob. Jon was the serious one, the violent one, and the one who would never agree with an opinion that wasn’t his. Unlike Bob, he was the intolerant, had short, army like hair, and would always look angry. No matter what. Bob was the exact opposite. He was tall, was never serious, had long, hippie like hair, and was always happy and tolerant, but absolutely clueless.

When the got home, it was a beautiful, warm summer afternoon. As soon as you looked outside from a window, you would be attacked by the bright blue blinding sky, and reflective green grass. You could hear the birds chirping joyfully in the perfect, tall trees. It was that time of day again. That time of day to lock yourself in a dark room, close the windows, shut the blinds, turn on your computer, and work. Seriously. Perfect day for concentrating and ignoring the world around you about five hours. Maybe seven. Jon was finally talked into writing the story.

“Okay, where should I start?” Jon questioned, cracking his knuckles.

Bob thought for a bit, then slowly replied, “It’s not much, but first, there is a guy named George, who is a famous explorer. Then…”

“Continue…” Jon motioned, impatiently.

“Then,” Bob continued, “he gets cursed, falls asleep in his tent, and wakes up in a desert-like dimension, with a city buried in the sand, and there is a mountain in the distance that he explores!”

“Good start. Let’s go.”

It seemed as though the computer was staring at them, the dim light from the monitor shining on the faces of its owners, begging to be used. Two and a half hours passed by the time the duo got there first words down.

It read, “Finally. One more day until I leave to Cambodia to explore! I can’t sleep a wink right now because of the excitement! I can’t wait to probably step on a land mine before I get very far!”

“Kind of a good start,” Jon thought. “Maybe a little bit too violent…”

After three more hours of no further progress, they finally fell asleep. What a perfect beginning to sleep on.

Bob had the strangest dream that night. He found himself eating a juicy, delicious Subway sandwich in the middle of nowhere, and a creepy, fat zombie, with an extremely scratchy voice asked him for a bite. Bob refused, so the zombie immediately attacked him, and Bob was suddenly standing readily in a dessert. He swiftly and violently smacked the fat zombie in the head with his sandwich, the head tumbling toward the red sandy ground. Immediately about twenty menacing zombies crawled out of the ground, and stood out, repetitively telling Bob to leave their dimension.

“I should tell Jon about this!!” Bob thought as he fought off the desperate zombies with his delicious sandwich. “It would make an amazing story!”

It was an epic and dramatic battle. A zombie ran up to Bob, he hit it with his sandwich, the head flying into one zombie, his body tripping another zombie. There was one zombie left before Bob mournfully realized that his sandwich was absolutely inedible, barely holding together.

“This is not your dimension!” the crazed zombie forcedly screamed in a scratchy, demonic voice. “You don’t belong here!” And after that was total darkness.

Sorry. That was kind of irrelevant. Or was it?

Bob was the first to wake up. It was burning hot. He was absolutely drenched in sweat, head to toe, the sand sticking to his warm skin like a leech on your foot. He gently shook Jon awake.

He whispered to Jon, “Wake up!”

Jon immediately awoke with a violent jolt. “Don’t steal my cookie!” he desperately screamed, his voice cracking.

Bob jumped back with a look of surprise on his sandy face.

“Sorry,” Jon apologized solemnly as he took in his surroundings, “you surprised me. Where in the name of bananas are we?”

They were in a desert, just like in Bob’s “dream”! The air was hot, but had a cool breeze, bringing brown bits of baked sand into their sunburnt bewildered faces. There were sand dunes as far as the eye could see, which, of course wasn’t very far, to be honest, because of how tall some of the sand dunes were. The sand was slightly red, and was smoldering hot to the touch. There was chunks of debris and dead bushes scattered everywhere.

Bob suddenly had an amazing thought pop into his mind like how an excited child jumps into a pool. “I know where we are!” he half shouted. “We have been transported to an alternate di…”

“Don’t continue, Bob. I know what you were going to say, and it's useless! No matter how many pranks you pull, or how far you go, I will not believe your stupid baloney!”

Well, shoot my mom with a buttercup biscuit. Is that what you think this is!? All of my life you have told me how dumb, stupid, and clueless I am, Jon! Do you think that I could possibly plan something this elaborate!? You would have noticed. You weren’t even drugged. Wouldn't you kind of, I don't know, WAKE UP!? Who knows how long an airplane ride would be to a place like this? We live in Saskatoon for pencil’s sake!”

“That is the first time I have ever kind of agreed with you, but there is an extreme lack of hard evidence.”

“Well, get this through your hard skull. Can you think of a better explanation? No, you can’t! You are always so ignorant!

“Wow. I thought you were nice.”

“Whatever. Wait, what’s that?”

They were walking over a sand dune while walking, and in the distance, the saw hundreds and hundreds of tall buildings, all half buried in the lava like sand. It was hard to see because of the misty air lying on the earth like a blanket. They started running towards it.

“What's our plan?” Jon shouted.

“We’re doing it!”

They only ended up running for about ten minutes.

“Jon,” Bob said, breathing like a tired dog, “that city is farther than it looks!”

“Running on dunes is way more tiring than I thought,” Jon barely wheezed.

“I know.”

“You shouldn't be complaining. You have like longer legs than me,” argued Jon.

“Those who have upsides must have downsides.”

“What do you mean? I see absolutely no downsides.”

“Those who are ignorant must always be ignored.”

“Oh, you’re getting poetic now, aren’t you? Here’s some “poetry” for you! Those who have upsides must always have downsides. You may have two brain cells fighting for space, but you are still amazing at poetry. Barely amazing, but still a little bit amazing.”

“I still don’t see how you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what!?”

“I have asthma! I’ve had it since grade one! You haven’t known for this long? How could you forget? You brought me to the nurse in grade two because I had an asthma attack!”

“Wow. Sorry”

“Yeah. And Ihave two brain cells fighting for space.” Bob decided to change the subject. “You know what? I think that in this dimension I’m smart, and my personality has changed! That’s cool!”

“You know what, sink that stupid dimension ship. Let's just get To the city.”

Bob just needed the last flog the dead horse, so he quickly mumbled, “This is another dimension, you stubborn little man.”

It was a long walk until they reach the outskirts of the city, and after the argument it was silent. So. Very. Awkwardly. Quiet.

The first words were spoken right when they reached the outskirts of the city. They saw a destroyed, half-burnt warning notice from S.H.I.D.T.

"See, look?" Jon exclaimed, matter-of-factly. “ they have this oddly named group in “our dimension”, too! That proves that there ARE NO OTHER DIMENSIONS!!!!!!!!”

"Oh I'm sorry but I didn't know that “our dimension” has gone through deadly sun flares,” reasoned Bob. “Wait, what? They issued this three weeks before the sun flares happened. You can't predict sun flares. Who are these S.H.I.D.T. people, anyway?”

"Probably some weird government group. You know what, Bob, if there are other dimensions, I like the smart you. Even though you know what I mean when I insult you.”


“You know what? It’s going to be dark soon. Let’s explore the city.”


“Cow, this just came in.” It was a tall, thick man speaking with an extremely low voice. He had a scar on the left side of his face, obviously put there by his pet cat. He was talking to a figure in the shadows. A clueless criminal queerly named Cow, because of a translation error.

“Thank you, Sean. What is it?” That was Cow speaking.

“We have detected some unauthorized interdimensional travelers. It was their first time, also.”

“I think they need to be put on the top of our deternamation list.”

“It’s terminate, Cow.”

“Don’t make me need to deternamate you, too!”

What a sad, sad leader, thought Sean.


John was way off. It was the afternoon, still scorching hot, with not a single cloud in the overwhelmingly bright blue sky.

As they were rounding a corner in the sandy spaces in between the half buried skyscrapers, Bob finally broke the silence, saying, “ I'm quite glad there is no one here. Now we can just break into any building we want, and take any supplies we need.

And that's when it all happened.

Four men with suits with the mysterious acronym C.R.A.P crashed through the windows of the buildings, each exactly opposite of each other, two from each side, in perfect unison. The four mysterious guests lined up in a ready-for-a-battle kind of stance, their hateful faces like hungry lions eyeing their prey.

“Oh, crap,” Jon thought. “Literally.”

He knew that they were up for a fight. What will they do? I don't care. I'm just the narrator. I know how it ends, anyway. I don't even get paid.

Jon quickly grab the first thing he saw a shiny, gray metal briefcase with the same strange acronym of the sign; S.H.I.D.T. It was spray-painted in thick, black, boxy letters.

Bob just pulled out his notebook.

The men aggressively charged at the now ready makeshift soldiers.

Jon drew the first blood. He thrusted the briefcase straight into the side of one of the men's face. He fell to the ground. He was about medium height, just like the rest of the men, and wore a nice, black suit. As soon as he hit the ground he got back up. Another man came at Jon, so he pushed the briefcase violently into the attacker’s chests. The first man was back on Jon, putting him in a headlock, as the other attacker flew back in with a kick. Jon successfully dodged the kick, positioning the headlocker’s face right where Jon’s was. There was a yell of surprise as the three men tumbled to the ground together.

Bob was also quite successful. One man came at him with a short, shiny knife. Bob shielded himself with his notebook, leaving the blade hovering two inches from his sweaty face. Bob forcefully motioned the notebook forward, crashing the stabber into his other pursuer, sending both of them tripping on top of John and his street fighters.

Suddenly more men ran around from every corner. At least 20 of these menacing men. And women? Are they even menacing? They all had a different acronym on their suits than the crappy (see what I did there?) fighters! It was S.H.I.D.T! Bob and Jon hoped that they were saving them, and that they weren’t as shidty of fighters as the crappy ones. Oh, immaturity.

The group of newbies quickly closed in on the mangled group, grabbing Bob and Jon and dragging them away. Who knows what they did with the to the original baddies?

“Git in the car, ya stinky animals!” shouted one of the mysterious second groupers. Jon suspected that he was the leader, so in his mind he decided to name him Captain Crunch. That was when Jon felt the first ache in his stomach, the overpowering lust for food.

“You should be glad we're savin’ your stinky arses,” Captain Crunch continued. “Ever heard of deodorant?”

“Yes, sir,” Jon silently replied as Bob followed into the camouflage green military-style jeep.

When in the car, Captain Crunch decided to try to start a conversation, asking, “Wut’s yer business travelin’ through them darn dimensions, all willy-nilly like? That’s gonna get ya’ll killed!”

Jon’s mind was blown. “What!?” he replied. “You have to be lying. I don’t believe it.”

Bob, on the other hand, was completely overjoyed. “Yes!!! Haha! Muthusucku! I’m right! You’re wrong! WRONG!! How do you like that, Mr. Thmartypants?”

“Shut your dirty face,” Jon remarked, full of hatred.

“Wait,” questioned Captain Crunch, “so ya’ll didn’t do this shanklish on purpose? Ya’ll some unlucky chunks a’ cheese. I s’pose ya haven’t heard of us. We are S.H.I.D.T. Secret Helpers of Inter-Dimensional Travelers. Yes, we know that interdimensional is one word, but that just don’t work, don’t it? We help all you suckers who are stalked and chewed up by them there C.R.A.P. That stands for Cow’s Representatives And Protectors. Poor old Cow. So durn oblivious.”

“Isn’t it rude to call people cows?” replied Bob.

Captain Crunch responded with this, “I ain’t callin’ nobody no cow. That’s what the stupid old pig calls itself.”

“So Cow is a pig?” questioned Jon.

“No! Cow’s a normal person! We don’t know what Cow looks like, but we know their name,” replied Captain Crunch.

It was Bob’s turn to speak again. “Why is Cow named Cow? We know that Cow isn’t a nickname because of C.R.A.P, and we know they are a normal person”

Captain Crunch again. “In some of those there dimension thingies, cow can mean a multitude of junk. I don’t have an example, because I have never traveled through them there dimensions. Cow is always hunting interdimensional travelers. Who knows why Cow would want to be in this dimension, after all of the sun flares turned this place into a desert. Then there was the flare. Under these sand dunes we are driving over are tons of decaying bodies. Unlucky buggers. Only about one hundred people survived that craziness.

“Who,” asked Jon, “organized this group?”

“I dunno. Some guy accidentally made a portal and got sent to another dimension, and he thought that he should tell the people in that there dimension. Them guys don't like crazies, so they sent him to jail. There was another fellow interdimensional traveler, and he got a hold of some of that there currency to bail him out, and they made a group. People in other dimensions think it is a government group, so they don't really care.”

Bob was awe-stricken. “Doug Jonson,” he whispered.

“How the duck did you know?” was Captain Crunch’s reply. “You must be from our headquarter dimension! Ever heard of that there S.H.I.D.T. tower?”

All of this information was giving Jon a headache. Or was it the dune bashing?

Back to Captain Crunch. “ anyway, Doug, the guy who was arrested, kept on traveling through dimensions, and he kept on hiring new agents. Some to stay in the dimensions, and some to travel. He also joined with other group of travelers. There is now a turd load of those there S.H.I.D.T. And that’s all I can tell you. Your briefing is in that there briefcase you picked up. I ain’t gonna talk no more. Have fun the rest of the ride!!”

Bob and John were bewildered. Too much information! They felt like their heads were about to explode from all of the confusion and curiosity. What could be in the briefcase? John was so glad you kept the mysterious thing. It was too bad that he couldn't open it. The only thing he could do in all of that bumpiness was to hold on for dear life and wonder about the purpose of life.

They neared a colossal sand dune, towering into the dry blue sky. Man, did it ever look unforgiving. Almost at unforgiving as Jon’s soul.

The ride up the dude was long. The fleet of camouflage Jeeps bumped along to the very top, in a whole of thirty five minutes. A silent thirty five minutes.

Jon attempted to speak to Captain Crunch many times, resulting in constant failure, just like Bob’s life.

“Hey, yo, Captain Crunch,” he tried, “Are you alive up there?”

Bob was annoyed at this. “He is obviously alive. He just doesn’t want to talk to you. I guess that’s the same with most people, though…”

they finally rounded the top of the mountainous sand dune when they found it; the Team Initiative Towers. It was a big gray warehouse with its acronym printed on it in big, white letters. It had a strange resemblance to a military bunker.

When the oversized fleet of saviors approach the overpoweringly boring grey building, a giant garage door opened, creating a loud mechanical whirring sound. As the group went in, Jon and Bob’s eyes were not used to the artificial lights glowing from the high ceiling. It almost felt dark in there. When their eyes were focused, they could see it all. One half of the place was loaded with Jeeps, each parked in nice even rows. There were tons of them. The other half? Well, that was full of bunk beds. Bob and Jon could see two layers of metal, prison–grade beds. Welcome to their new temporary home.

A medium tall girl with short, Ellen DeGeneres hair strolled up. She was wearing jeans and a denim jacket.

She started speaking. “Welcome to the Team Initiative Towers. This, as you can see, is our headquarters in this dimension. It is also where the travelers refuge from Cow. Again, as you can see, there aren't many refugees, but there sure are agents. I would say you should choose beds. And go through the briefcase. But before that, how about a tour?”

How bad could the tour possibly be?

The girl continued. “Okay. The room you're standing in right now we call the main room, because it is the only room. Tour over. Choose your bed. Whatever.”

“Interesting,” said Jon.

“Yeah, sure,” said the lady in a sarcastic tone as she walked away.

The whole rest of the fleet was already chilling on their beds, so Bob and Jon chose theirs near the pack.

Bob and Jon were each sitting on opposite sides of the bed when they opened the nicely packed briefcase. The first paper in the stuffed briefcase was a letter.

Jon eagerly tore it open. It read, "Hello. If you're reading this, you have either been saved by S.H.I.D.T, who, by the way, you can trust, or you will be attacked by C.R.A.P. any minute now. Every time you travel through a dimension, there is a counter dimension. We have left you with any supplies you may have needed. This stage may feel like a dream.

“You may wonder why you are here. It is because you have accidentally found a loophole. Therefore, the antagonist, Cow, is after you. Cow hates unauthorized interdimensional travelers. And no, they are not a cow. There was a translation error. Cows group consists of six people. Cow, Sean, and four unknown street fighters. They are more powerful than you would ever think.

“In this briefcase are the materials and important information you will need in your travels. Enjoy!!!”

“Okay,” Jon said with a sigh, “Let’s do this.”

The next thing in the briefcase was a piece of newspaper. The headline stated that it was about a guy named Nathaniel Blinks, and how he discovered a portal to another dimension in a cave with a guy named Oliver.

Dimension-seption, thought Bob.

The next paper was also a newspaper article. It said something about a guy named Garvey Pattern… Oh, it's probably not important.

Then a thing about James Wild, and a guy named Guy… Bob and Jon couldn’t take it any more. They skipped all of the newspaper articles.

The paper after those was a pamphlet. It was about counter dimensions, and what to do while in one, and also some warnings.

Then, there was just more and more boring stuff.

And lastly, a poster about Cow. An accidental murderer. And oblivious person, never seen before, and their partner, Sean.

“You know what,” Jon yawned, “I’m going to hit the hay.”

“Me too,” agreed Bob.

Little did they know, they forgot about one last small paper. A warning. Warning you that if you accidentally travel once, the next night, if you slept, you will travel again until you get home. If you sleep closely to a small possession, it will travel with you.

It's a good thing John had the briefcase at the foot of his bed.

John found himself standing in a blank, white dimension. John found himself standing in a black, white dimension.

“What… Who said that?” he said.

“Who said he said?” he asked, pnicking hilariously. “Oh my goodness! I’m being narrated!”

Poor soul. He doesn’t know he’s been narrated since the beginning of this story.

“Wait, I’m in a story!? My whole life is a story!?

Yes. I am controlling what you are saying. Or, I controlled what you said. I need to stay past tense.

“My whole world makes sense now… That’s how I’ve been traveling through dimensions!”

Your life will never make sense, Jon.

“What do you mean!?”

Poor Jon. He was always so oblivious to the world around him.

“Hey! I heard that! Is this funny to you?? How could this be funny to anyone!?”

What Jon didn’t know was that this was actually quite entertaining, and extremely fun to narrate.

“Okay… It’s still not funny!”

Jon decided to wake up in the next dimension so that the narrator could finish the story. Since Jon was so closed minded, he did not understand that the narrator had a deadline.

“No! I’m staying here! I am going to explain to you how my only life purpose wasn’t to be in a story, and that…”

Jon couldn’t finish the sentence, because the narrator decided to get on topic, and Jon was too busy waking up in the next dimension.

“That was strange,” he thought, as woke up beside Bob in a wasteland. I’m sure he’s happy that he can’t hear me making fun of his ignorance.

He shook Bob awake.

“Hey, Bob, get up,” he whispered.

Bob calmly awoke and sat upright. “My counter dimension,” he said, “was awesome. I had a pen, and I could draw whatever I wanted, so I drew the Subway sandwich from my last counter dimension!”

“Yeah,” replied Jon, “lucky you. Mine sucked.”

Jon said that fully knowing that he would be narrated.

“Where are we?” asked Bob. “This looks like a desert!”

Yep, Bob was back to his ordinary, stupid self.

Jon replied, “Yay. You’re back. We’re in a wasteland. A freezing cold one, at that. You know what, I think I like the stupid you.”


“We need food. let’s go to that building over there.”

In  the nipping cold, flat, empty wasteland, with only dead trees and bushes, the towering school-like building looked like a mirage. It was as out of place as a brain cell in Bob’s empty head.

“It looks so close, yet so far,” Bob whispered in awe.

“Yeah, whatever. I hope there is food. Oh, wait! The briefcase!”

Jon ran back the couple of steps he took. “Can’t forget that,” he explained. “It makes for a good weapon sometimes!”

For a wasteland, Jon thought that the air smelled a little bit too fresh.

Who knew what Bob was thinking. He was just in his own La-La-Land.

It was another two and a half hours until the duo made it up to the mysterious school-like building. It was tall, about four stories, and had a wall stretching around the whole place, with one giant fence fencing in an area about the size of a school soccer pitch. As they approached one of the blown-off gates, the noticed a giant hole in the second floor of the building, cutting off part of the acronym C.I.S. This whole place looked like a battlefield to them!

They peered at the fenced in area, and crap-a-doodle-doo! Guess who it was Our dear old friends from C.R.A.P!

“Come here,” one of them hissed, “we wanna beat some sense into ya!”

It was the same four people that originally attacked them!

Bob snarled back, “We’re going to beat the crap out of you! Get it? Wasn’t that smart?”

“Shut up!” yelled a different one. “If you defeat us, you get to take on Cow. If we defeat you, on the other hand, we get to inject you with I.U.O, the deadly disease that brought this dimension to its knees! Whoa, that rhymed… Anyway, got it?”

“That’s unfair,” muttered Jon.

“Got it!” Bob replied, enthusiastically. “Let’s fight!”

“Ahhhh,” remarked Jon, “you stupid… You know what? It’s a good day to die. I’m in.” He was glad that the fourth challenger was currently missing. Or was he?

As soon as Jon and Bob walked in, someone jumped from the cage and landed on Jon’s shoulders. How did Jon not notice him? Jon dropped the briefcase, threw the jumper on the ground, picked him back up from the ground, and hurtled him towards the other attacker, and they both hit the floor.

“I may be short,” Jon shouted, “but that doesn’t mean that I can’t work out!”

The two mangled attackers didn’t get up, but were obviously alive.

Bob picked up the briefcase, because he left the notebook in the other dimension, and got ready to fight. One of the attackers ran up to Bob and jumped, so Bob ducked, sending the jumper’s face into the fake grass. The other attacker was running at Bob, so he stood up. Bob swiftly smashed the briefcase into his new friend’s face, smearing the big black blocky letters with blood. The attacker fell to the ground at an angle.

Bob and Jon heard what sounded like a jetpack. They looked up, and big surprise. It was a jetpack. Two, to be true.

“Alright,” said a low voice, “you’ve defeated our lame street fighters again, but you haven't seen nothin’!”

They majestically landed on the shredded fake grass.

“I,” the low voice continued, “am Sean. Now I present to you… Cow! The mastermind behind all of this. In other words, your greatest nightmare!”

Cow stepped out from behind Sean. “Hi,” she said, in an innocent, normal-sounding voice. And yes, I said she.

Cow was a girl. A happy, innocent girl. Of all evil people, they had to be attacked by clueless, normal girl with boring brown hair falling down to her shoulders.

“I do not want to get in a fight, so I’m just giving you a deternamate,” she said. “I hate all of that violence stuff like killing.”

“What!?” shouted Sean. “So you mean I’ve been trying to kill people when you tell me to ‘deternamate’ them!? You meant warn them!?”

“Oh,” Cow simply stated, “don’t kill people! Sorry, boys, I just wanted to warn you! This is kind of awkward. But where I come from, Cow means ‘awesome’, and deternamate means ‘warn’. Sorry. Sean, you can send them back now.”

Sean pulled out a giant gun as Bob clinged on to the briefcase. Sean shot once, and Sean and Bob were enclosed by a giant purple circle.

“Goodbye, world!” Bob shouted, as the circle enclosed on them. Next was complete darkness.

Bob and Jon woke up in their dark room with a slight illumination from the sides of the curtains. They totally skipped the counter dimension.

They could still hear the birds chirping, and the computer was still on, so Jon checked the time. No time had passed! And his story was done! Complete!

He woke up Bob, who, as always, woke up calmly. He checked his watch.

“Uh oh,” he whispered, “it’s 10:05 AM. One and a half days went by when we were gone!”

Jon was wrong. They needed to hurry! The story was due 12:00 PM that day!!

In the end, Jon and Bob handed in their story on time. Lucky them. Mine is due in a couple of hours. They won first place. Second was Nathaniel Blinks, And third was George Clinton.

Jon and Bob interdimensionally traveled quite often, and started a series of ‘fictional’ novels.

Jon became more open minded, and he started to agree with many other ideas that weren’t his.

Cow and Sean got married, and they decided to join S.H.I.D.T. Cow was embarrassed by her name, so she changed it to Billybobette.

The four fighters that we know and love decided to become street fighters, and earned many different types of currencies from random dimensions, in which they later gave to charities.

So in other words, everyone lived happily ever after.


Submitted: April 29, 2016

© Copyright 2022 Bruvton. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Bruv, dimesion-ception. Also, what did you do to the fourth wall?! It's totally destroyed...

Sat, April 30th, 2016 5:59am


There is no fourth wall...

Fri, April 29th, 2016 11:32pm


A very interesting story indeed! It was very well written with aspects of your humour shining through in cases such as those acronyms. The ending was a bit rushed however, everything else was great though!

Wed, June 1st, 2016 3:49pm


Yeah. I ran out of time in the end. Thanks for the review, though!

Wed, June 1st, 2016 8:53am

fish man

Hi, Bruvton I love your sense of humor your story drew me in I think your grammar was excellent your punctuation was right on I loved how you developed the two most important characters. I can not remember their names but talk about the odd couple. You are a comic and an excellent writer. This read was very long I found it hard to stay focused on it, but you had humor spread throughout just in time to keep me going. And the woman beeing the top dog at the end that was fascinating. Good job keep up the good work.

Mon, December 12th, 2016 12:30am


Thanks! I wrote it on a very very very long bus ride, and let's just say I got kind of bored.

Sun, December 11th, 2016 11:30pm


I found myself laughing all through this story even though I had no idea what was going on. It reminded me of a monty python skit. I don't care that I was confused the whole time, I laughed hysterically because the words and descriptions were so incredibly silly

Thu, July 6th, 2017 5:33am


Thanks! I've found inspiration everywhere impacting the way I write, and Monty Python was one of them. I'm glad that you enjoyed it!

Sat, July 8th, 2017 9:36am

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