the man who couldn't stop feeling terrific

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: March 10, 2016

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Submitted: March 10, 2016

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The Man Who Couldn't Stop Feeling Terrific.

 

Whatever happened to the man who couldn’t stop feeling terrific? He used to be here, and we all saw him every day. But I haven’t been able to find him, and I almost miss him. Almost.

 

The man who couldn’t stop feeling terrific.

 

He would try his level best to satisfy himself with every woman in town. Even when they didn’t want him to, he didn’t care. All he cared for was that he never quit feeling terrific.

 

But he felt terrific with a friend of the witch in green, against her friend’s will. So she went to him, and he tried to make himself feel terrific with her, too, but she defeated him. Shaking her head, she uttered some words, and walked out.

 

The man who couldn’t stop feeling.

 

The next morning, he found that terrific was present, but no longer under his control. He went out to lunch with a pretty woman, trying to trick her into becoming his next victim, but broke down in tears under a deep wave of grief. Fleeing from her, he changed to the most mirthful of men, but that didn’t last before he felt so irate he attempted to beat a policeman. Luckily, his feelings changed again, to fear and terror. He ran away, until he switched emotions yet again. Like a disk player set to shuffle each track, he just couldn’t stop feeling.

 

The man who couldn’t stop.

 

When he awoke the next day, he had no emotions left at all. Only an intensive drive to go out and recapture what he had before he messed with the witch in the green robe. And so out he went, unable to stop himself from doing anything. Driven, reduced to his id, he had no self-control of any type. Just ask the shopkeepers in his neighborhood, who each went straight to the police.

 

The man who couldn’t.

 

The next day, he managed to regain his self control. So once more, he went out and found another woman. Everything seemed fine. Except that he couldn’t. No matter what he tried, he simply couldn’t. She ridiculed him, so he left. He found another victim, and against her will, he tried, but no matter what, he couldn’t. So she hit him with her groceries and ran away. Desperate to redeem his pleasure, he tried to follow her. But he couldn’t.

 

The man who.

 

The man awoke again the next day, to the police banging on his door. They had had enough of him, between his unwanted advances on every woman he met, then with his attack on a cop, and refusal to stop robbing and breaking things. Enough was enough, and they captured him. But despite their demands, and their questioning, he could remember nothing whatsoever. Even his name was lost to him. And before they knew it, his name was lost to them as well.

 

The man.

 

The man awoke the next day in a jail cell. His cellmate came to him, and tried to dish back to him the same mistreatment he had given to women for so long. But the man defeated the cellmate, and humiliated him, for the man was a martial artist. He won the respect of the cellmate, or rather the fear of him.

 

The.

 

The next day, the man awoke to find that he had been reduced to something. He could not tell what he was, and neither could the police or the cellmate. The was all they could say of him now. He was no longer a man. And so he freaked out, but he was unable to do anything, for he was undefined and undefinable. And able to say only a single word: The.

 

The next day, he was completely gone. Nothing was left of him. Everything he was was lost, not that it’s a great loss. The women of the neighborhood can all feel safe at night again.

 

Whatever happened to the man who couldn’t stop feeling terrific? He used to be here, and we all saw him every day. But I haven’t been able to find him, and I almost miss him. Almost.


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