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truthisgoldenau · 4 years ago

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IT'S PRIDE MONTH

for a moment there I accidentally had Pierce's photo under Marian's name oop

Time to officially confirm some AU canon LGBT stuff! Each character is their own pride flag but I'll add in other stuff that's canon in universe plus some bonus stuff at the bottom.

First up is Freddy Fazbear Jr! Gay all the way.

He's definitely the "move I'm gay" type

Was honestly super freaked out to tell his dad but went with the bold approach of bringing home his first boyfriend and blatantly announcing their relationship as such as a challenge and was honestly surprised his dad wasn't bothered by it

He was around 13 at the time and so the twins and Fred were still in touch with Maddie's parents and brother. All three were incredibly supportive (and still would be)

He absolutely had a crush on Bonnie Burnette even though he had never talked to him. Since the twins and Bonnie went to the same high school he knew of Bonnie, thought he was a dreamboat, but because Bonnie was somehow in with the popular kids (it was the money 100%) Freddy didn't even bother

Frankie Fazbear! My ace son! (The ears are wrong blame the app lol)

Honestly doesn't even know he's ace until much later

He's had crushes before but he's never been in a relationship (part of it is the attempt to communicate since he's mute sort of stops him)

He wasn't even sure it was worth mentioning to his dad so Fred never knew

This boy can hold so much love in his heart but he's not a very physical person that's all

Fred Fazbear Sr! YES. HE'S BI.

Only Maddie even knew he was bi. That he knew of. Some people probably figured it out with his over the top always on personality.

Fred was constantly sure that Pierce picked up on it particularly after the Christmas mistletoe fiasco but if Pierce gave a shit he never said anything.

Frankly it was amazing that more people didn't pick up on it. He was over the top about everything until a point.

While he didn't overreact to his son very blatantly announcing he had a boyfriend, he was very proud of him. It was a very Fazbear family way to come out. Even though he got so distant, he was always proud of his boys.

Bonnie Burnette! Also bi!

Being constantly surrounded by the popular crowd and always being the sort of stand out with purple hair and stupid purple bunny ears didn't do much to make Bonnie feel like he could even tell anyone he was bi.

Really the only reason he was even in the popular crowd was he was rich.

It made him less of a target for bullies at least cause the jocks wouldn't stand for anyone messing with him.

Knew Frankie from math class and honestly wished he could have talked to the quiet kid with bear ears as an alternative to the entirety of the popular group

Sort of in the background of the AU story very quietly develops a crush on Freddy and then thinks "oh God I like the troublemaker NO"

Chandler Cicily! Lesbian!

Would absolutely describe her sexuality as "girls"

She's starting to discover it during the AU (even if it's not a topic that comes up but that's why there's this post about stuff lmao).

She's the baby of the group since she's 16 when the story starts and relationships aren't important to her yet

But the crew still support her when later she's like "maybe I just wanna bake things for a cute girl and let her put flowers in my hair is that too much to ask" (Marian always chimes in with "mood")

Marian Mengele! An absolute bi icon!

Listen, her one goal in life may be to find her lost childhood friend, but that doesn't mean she's solely interested in this one Irish redhead

That said she's definitely only dated redheads

She's not afraid to be open about her orientation. It doesn't bother her. She's seen as weird already what can it hurt.

That said she falls for Finn so goddamn fast when she finds him that she questions herself and then is like "no wait I'm definitely not straight"

She's very upfront with Finn about it. There's no reason to hide this from him (or anyone) and if they're a thing she wants him to know.

Finn being the wonderful human being still loves her and it doesn't bother him. Why should it? He's just happy to be with someone who loves him.

Chetana might be Chandler's fake big sister but Marian is like fake mama when it comes to Chandler finally coming out.

God bless Finn for being the kind of person to sit and let Marian braid his hair with flowers because that's one of Marian's favorite things to do when her partner has longer hair and Finn's never really bothered with keeping his hair short THESE TWO ARE ICONIC I love them

Pierce Graves! A shitty pansexual icon

First off he absolutely knew that Fred wasn't 100% straight he had no idea how it wasn't immediately obvious to everyone

That said Pierce literally did not give a shit who knew about his sexuality

As shitty as his whole personality was he could turn on the charm easily

His parents definitely knew but he was already a punk ass rebellious teen at the time so they have him the "be careful, don't get anyone pregnant" talk and worried from afar. If it bothered them, Pierce never knew because they made sure that he could still count on them (even though at the time Pierce didn't really talk to them much about anything)

Fred absolutely knew though I mean they were good friends

He's not a romantic. He's never really had a meaningful relationship because he's not that type of person. To be honest, there's a piece of him that saw relationships that worked and wondered how that would feel but he knew that wasn't for him. He figured that out way early on when he asked his granddad why he didn't have a grandma and Mortimer Graves didn't sugarcoat the answer. "She wasn't happy with me. I gave her the choice. She could stay and be miserable with my lack of a decent personality even though I was already struggling to not be such an ass or she could go and find someone who actually made her happy. She chose happiness, and while it sucks that she drifted out of my life and your dad's, she's better off."

Pierce could frankly always tell that he was more like his granddad and as much as he sometimes wanted to know if he could even out up with a meaningful relationship, he avoided it. Better to not hurt anyone and wonder than to become the catalyst for someone else to overcome, right?

Fritz Smith! Gay!

The shy bumbling mechanic of the early 90s Freddy's ? Gay? It's more likely than you think

He was still far in the closet in the 90s He was young, living at home still because he had just gotten out of school, and while his parents weren't super conservative, he also didn't know how they'd take it

Found a friend in the day guard Mike Schmidt early on. Mike was looking for a roommate since his last one had moved out and Fritz jumped at the chance

They are like totally boyfriends by the time they cameo in the story though

Mike Schmidt! Another gay icon!

Mostly invited Fritz to live at his apartment because he felt bad that this poor shy mechanic was getting constantly harangued about the animatronics having problems

Was glad to let Fritz complain about it and even cry it was very stressful but Fritz needed the money

Mike liked him. It would be hard not to really. Fritz was a sweetheart.

Mike didn't ask him out till much later though he wasn't quite sure that Fritz was gay and didn't want to ruin their friendship.

Luckily it didn't and as it turns out they worked well in a relationship.

Fritz's parents had to take some time to get used to it when finally Fritz got the nerve to tell them but as soon as they did there was no end of support from them

Mike's parents were the opposite which was mainly why he already lived by himself but oh well he got a cute boyfriend and cool parents-in-law later it was kind of a win

Daniel Hartford-Dunn! Gay!

Presenting Maddie's older brother!

outside universe fact, he's loosely based in my actual cousin who lives in California with his husband.

He's 7 years older than Maddie was. Despite that, they were still close. Maddie's parents wanted more kids but struggled to get the two they had.

He's an accountant for a corporation and his boyfriend (and later his husband) is a pilot.

Last time he saw his nephews in person was at Maddie's funeral. He misses them terribly but over the years less and less contact came from his brother in law

Sometime in 2006 though he ends up getting a call from his nephews and there's this great reunion.

He's just. This chill older guy. Who loves his family. And doesn't care what people think.

Since I can't put anymore photos, here's the bonus content!

-as mentioned last night Dr. Phillip Guy is on the ace spectrum. I don't have anymore details about that at the moment unfortunately.

-Charlie Emily is a lesbian. The Emily twins were born in 1980. They haven't appeared in the AU yet even as cameos but they exist. Considering in AU canon the Emily family is alive and well in Hurricane, Utah without an Afton to be found, Charlie's dating her childhood friend Jessica at around the time the AU events are happening.

-Sammy Emily is trans and bi. Both Henry and his wife (who I know I at one point named but don't remember what it is anymore) love their two daughters to pieces.

That said I'll make a post at a later point introducing the Emily family because so far I've only officially given the design for Henry and not the rest.

In line with canon, Spring Bonnie/Springtrap can be counted as gay.

While Fred kept the shows at the diner pretty simple and straightforward, there was definitely this subtle underlying idea that Spring Bonnie and Fredbear were a content gay couple although if asked it was easy to present them as friends. At least, that was during '81-'82

However!

Fred also had Henry help him program in a special one time only song called Springtime for his and Maddie's anniversary in 1983, which was of course a love song. Fred always thought of that as being mostly for his wife, and partially as a turning point thematically for the two characters.

Henry was on board with this. They still kept it subtle, but there were clear moments where it was pretty much certain that the only way to interpret Spring Bonnie and Fredbear was as a couple. It was either so subtle that no one was bothered or Spring Bonnie's chosen voice was so ambiguously non-binary that no one thought it was odd.

Fred had plans for it to become more "canon" but never got to implement them since Spring Bonnie got damaged before he could.

Springtrap, being sentient and able to later interpret his emotions, is very confused about how he as a machine was meant to feel about this character he knew but the more sentient he becomes the more aware he is that he misses Fredbear and that he loved him. It's the cause of a lot of internal conflict for him. But he can be counted in the category of LGBT characters in the AU.

Happy pride month ya'll! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

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jjohnsonwriter · 5 years ago

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“Extraterestrial Homesick Blues”

MONDAY

The drive to work was all bumper to bumper traffic, and the AC from my 2013 Ford Taurus was just a colder form of CO2 poisoning. I miss the Lincoln, but Liz got that in the divorce too.

I walked into the common room where all the residents were sitting around, watching TV, playing checkers coated in that special chemical that tastes like earwax. It doesn’t always keep the residents from swallowing the plastic pieces, but it helps.

“Hello, Dr. K!” Nurse Hatchet said. You could tell she had huge tits under all that uniform, even though she must have been like 50-something and she dressed like a nun.

“Hello nurse Hatchet, how are you this fine morning?”

“Quite well, Doctor Kierkegaard. And yourself?”

“Well I’m feeling exceptionally… Refreshed, I guess would be the word!”

Rhonda, one of the orderlies, looked over at us smiled.

I waved out each finger from my hand individually at her. “Hi, Rhonda!”

“Hello, Dr. K. Good to see you today.” She took a resident’s temperature.

Hospital regulations are that we sign in when we come and go so that if anyone tries to use our key cards it’s kept in a log, that way we know if anyone’s stolen our card, which wouldn’t be good. So I followed procedure, writing my name and the time on the sheet and started to walk to my office to get checked in, but before I got past the desk I noticed something was going on in the common room where Rhonda was standing over Artie Tremond’s wheelchair.

“Will you just hold still so I can do this?” Rhonda said, fumbling with his head as he lolled back and forth, trying to escape her grasp.

Artie was sitting in the corner with Rhonda standing over him, going on about how he had just about had it with Wellington. “Sacré blue! Zat goddamn sepoy général! E’ asé made a mockery ove’ mah impériale guard!” Tremolds said, then spat on the floor.

“Now Artie, you know we’re not supposed to be spitting on the floor! Behave yourself so I can finish.” Rhonda chided him.

“Artie...” Nurse Hatchet reminded warned him without looking up from her papers. Sometimes Nurse Hatchet acted like she was the patient’s mother, which I found disturbing in it’s own way.

“That’s OK, he just needs his medication early today.” Rhonda walked back into a plexiglass enclosure and locked the door behind her. She opened the closet and began allotting the medication in paper cups with the wax paper cups of water on plastic trays.

Then I noticed a new patient sitting off to the side of the room, slumped way down low in the chair. His eyes were glazed over as he stared into the middle distance, not moving, and barely even breathing. His hair was all combed up in a greased pompadour like some kind of James Dean knockoff.

I leaned over Nurse Hatchet’s desk and smiled. “Do you have the new patient’s chart?”

“Yes, but I’d better warn you. Watch yourself around that one, I don’t like the look of him.”

“Oh yeah? Did you get your heart broken by one of those guys back in the day?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked up at me from papers she was pretending to read. “First of all, I’m not nearly that old. And secondly…” She caught my eyes wandering down onto her massive bosom. How does it all stay in there?

“And secondly, My eyes are up here, Doctor Kierkegaard!”

“Right! Sorry Nurse Hatchet, I was just trying to read this patient’s file.” I lied, and pointed to some obscure piece of information in one of the files on her desk.

“That’s a requisition form for bedpans!” She chided me.

“I know. I just uh… wanted to make sure it gets done right… intra department oversight is a key feature of institutional safeguards against-”

She shot me with another steely look. Unable to meet her gaze, I darted my eyes around the room.

“I guess I’d better-” I gestured to the new patient: Elvis Presley or James Dean, or some piece of 50’s obscura shat back out by the annals of the 20th century.

Nurse Hatchet leaned forward “Well I guess you’d better…” she said, shooing me off.

I walked over to the new patient and read his chart. Danny Califia: depression, claims he’s�� an alien! Oh great. Why do I always get the crazy ones first thing in the morning?

I stood in front of him and very self consciously pulled my lips into the best smile I could muster, knowing my bedside manner was about on the level of Josef Mengele.

“Hello Danny, I’m Dr. Eric Kierkegaard, but most people just call me Dr. K.” He stuck out his arm limply, and took my hand with a firm grip shook hard. Even through the impenetrable lenses of his dark wayfarers I knew he was looking me right in the eye.

“You probly think I’m crazy doc, don’tcha?” Danny pulled a black comb from his ankle boots and sculpted his black pompadour.

“Well the thing about calling somebody ‘crazy’ is that it’s dismissive. It doesn’t get at the underlying problem a person is experiencing.” I started towards intake room four. “I want to talk to you, just to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay…” he said. Poor bastard. He looks like he’s just about my age, stuck in a place like this in that getup. Hey I’m not judging, but still.

The first thing you learn in this job is ‘take everything they say with a grain of salt’. If you can’t do that, then you’ve already lost it. I was sitting in room four with this new patient: Danny Califia. Danny was a self-admit, although I had no idea why he was there. He seemed perfectly normal, except for the 50’s greaser shtick. The room where we met was like any other in the L.A. County psychiatric hospital: modern, sleek, off white with the faint smell of piss-stained bed sheets and slobbered tongue guards coming through the gap of air flowing between the door’s sill and the floor. Intake room number four had the same problem as every other room in the hospital: the fluorescent lighting was way too bright. You had to close your eyes and blink a few times every couple minutes just to make sure they didn’t dry up and fall out of their sockets.

I flipped through his intake file: personal history of depression, family history of schizophrenia, no known schizoid episodes. “So Danny, what brings you here today?”

Danny pursed his lips in a rattlesnake kiss. “Yeah doc, I got the blues. Got the blues so bad I could just die.”

It’s never somebody normal, it’s never a schizophrenic who just shits himself. No, always the crazy, off the walls, ‘couldn’t make this stuff up’ weirdos. “Well Danny, that sounds pretty serious.”

“ ‘Course it’s serious doc! I got the blues so bad I could just up an’ die!” He shouted, the sunglasses sliding down to the tip of his nose, and I could see his eyes were red with tears. He glanced up and caught me looking, then pushed the glasses back up to hide his tears.

I looked him up and down. It’s like he saw Rebel Without a Cause or The Wild One and just got lost in it. I guess there’s no accounting for taste. “So Danny, tell me why you’re here.”

“Well Doc, I’m…” He started to cry.

This isn’t just an act: maybe this guy’s just stuck in a timewarp.

“I’m jus’ so goddamn homesick.” Danny pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose again and shrank down into the chair, but that didn’t stop the tears running out under his shades.

I flipped through his intake file and loosened my tie. “Danny, where’s home? It seems you didn’t list an address when you were admitted.”

“Well the thing is Doc: I didn’t want to lie, but I knew they wouldn’t believe me.”

“Believe you about what, Danny?”

“Well the thing is Doc: I’m an Alien.”

I don’t know why I balk anymore. Half the fucking people in here seem to think they’re either Charlemagne or Jesus Christ. But an alien? That’s a new one.

“Uh… What’s the name of your home planet, Danny?”

He slid down into the chair and put one arm around the backrest. “Aww geez doc, I can’t say. It’d take me a real long time to say the whole thing out loud, like we’re talking days, doc.”

“Well is there a shorthand? Like a ‘slang’ for your home planet?” Sometimes it’s hard to stomach this stuff: to act like you believe them, but trying to understand the full scope of their delusions is part of the process, and I needed Danny to trust me.

He shook his head. “You ain’t gonna believe this doc but uhh, they’re real strict about slang on my home planet. You either say the whole thing, find a way around saying it, or die the thousand deaths of the Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa.” He leaned forward to peer over the top of my clipboard. “Oh, if you’re writn’ that down doc, it’s a proper noun, so you gotta capitalize the first letter of each word.”

I found myself making the corrections to ‘Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa’. Wait, what the fuck am I doing!?

I decided I couldn’t let him deerail me. I had to keep the conversation on my terms, and follow my line of logic. “But Danny, how will they know you’re not saying the whole thing? How will they know you’re abbreviating the name if they’re on a different planet?” I know he’s going to have something stupid loaded up for this, and I’m just walking face first into a trap.

“They got satellites in my teeth, doc!” This guy’s fucking nuts!

“How exactly does an alien know what a proper noun is?”

“Uh… do you think we’re stupid, doc? Course’ we’re hip to your Earth ways, ya dig?” He reached into his boot and scratched his ankle. “Hey daddy o’, you got any smokes ‘round here!?”

“Sorry Danny, this whole hospital’s a tobacco free campus.” God I need a cigarette. “So on…” I looked down at the paper and read whatever nonsense I’d just written down, “So on ‘Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa’, they punished you for slang?”

“No doc, Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa is just the cat that they executed for using the slang name of -!” Danny’s eyebrows shot up over the top of his sunglasses, and he scooped the air back into his mouth with both hands, forcing the words back down his throat.

Danny slammed his fists down on the table and shouted at me: “JEEZ DOC, WHADDAYA TRYNA DO? GET ME KILLED?”

“Danny, I just want to-”

“-Doc, whatareya writn’ a book!? You think we didn’t do our homework, is that it?” I wrote down the words on notepad: book-homework. He scratched the back of his head, then the little prick pulled a cigarette out of nowhere and lit up. He was just about my age, maybe a year or two younger, or older even, but he acted like an 18 year old kid.

“Danny, you can’t smoke that in here.”

He exhaled a long drag right in my face. “Listen, daddy-o-”

My eyes stung from the hot smoke. “-It’s Doctor Kierkegaard, or ‘Doctor K’.” I warned him.

The room filled with secondhand and I looked up at the smoke detectors blinking red light, but for some reason it wouldn’t go off. Then my eyes darted up at the clock. 9:03: three minutes late for my next meeting. Thank God! “Well Danny, I’m afraid since I’ve got other meetings that’s all the time we have for today.”

He leaned the chair back on two legs. “Well doc, I’d say it’s been a pleasure but…”

What a prick.

TUESDAY

I drove to work that morning and pulled into my spot, even later than usual from traffic. I was on the phone with my lawyer all the way to work, trying to get this alimony resettled with Liz, but of course she’s trying to go to school for acupuncture or astrology or some other horseshit. Apparently if I get a raise under state law she can do that, which would explain the guy skulking outside my apartment last night with the fake moustache hanging from his upper lip by a four inch strand of spirit gum. God, I’m going to do myself a favor and just shoot my next ex wife in the head right after the honeymoon. I’d way rather be Scott Peterson than the asshole who gets taken for a ride.

When I walked in Danny was talking to Artie Tremonds and smoking a cigarette under the smoke alarm. “You know, I used to hang with the real Napoleon. Class act. Nuthin’ like yours truly.” Danny looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a blue ring of directly into the smoke detector.

“Sacré Bleu!” Tremonds darted his head around the room. “Nurseh! Nurseh! Thisa man haz leet a cigarette in ze nonsmoking area!”

“Some Napoleon! The real one used to smoke like a chimney!”

Rhonda saw Danny standing next to Tremonds, and it made her nervous. “Hey!” She said, hustling over to them. “You get away from him, right now!”

He tried to wave her off, but she stood there ignoring him, and apparently nobody noticed me enter the room. “And gimme that cigarette!” Rhonda demanded. Danny gave her the smoldering Kool and retreated to the back corner of the room to pout.

I checked in and called to him from interview room four. “All right Danny, we’re going to continue your intake evaluation.”

“ ‘S fine. This place is a drag anyway, man.” He said to nobody in particular, and Rhonda rolled her eyes as we filed into the dull green intake room. I opened the door, holding it for Danny as I coughed, choking on the stench of stale piss. God, was this place always such a shithole?

“So Danny, when we last left off we were talking about…” I had to look at my notepad to read whatever delusion this guy had come up with as a backstory. “Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa, and how you’re from another planet. Would you care to elaborate on that?” I thought I heard Danny go ‘chk’, like he was sucking his teeth or something, but I should have known better.

“Yeah well, one day the warden was having a party, see? I was up in county, then the prison band starts playin’, n’ it was ca-ray-zee! I’m talkin’ everybody in the whole cell block, spider murphy playin’ on the saxophone, little Joey blowin’ on the slide trombone. You shoulda heard those knocked out jailbirds sing!”

I realized what he was doing, then I looked up at him, and if I wasn’t already furious then by that point I was down right livid. “Danny!” I snapped, taking the cigarette out of his mouth that he’d lit while I wasn’t looking, “That’s the plot of fucking ‘Jailhouse Rock’; the fucking ELVIS SONG!” The little bastard just looked at me with a shit-eating grin smeared all over his stupid fucking face!

“HAHAHAHA, sorry daddy-o, you just get so cranked up over nothin’!”

“Oh, you think you’re really fucking funny, don’t you!?”

I stood up, and backed over to the intercom and pressed the button. “Nurse, bring the patient to solitary, he needs to be heavily sedated.”

“You folks know hot to have a real good time round here!” He shouted at me, then the huge orderlies dragged him off, kicking and screaming. He snarled, raising his lip on one side, looked like he was winking at me or something, stomping one foot in rhythm as they hauled him off. He shouted at me “You ain't nothin but a hound-!” then they jammed the needle into his neck, and shot him full of promethazine hydrochloride. Danny went out like a light, and the two huge nurses hauled him off to his room, his heels dragging on the linoleum, and the right leg shaking every couple seconds in some kind of uncontrolled spasm.

I stood there in my padded cell, looking up at that blue moon, all alone. I opened my mouth with a dream in my heart and a private love all my own. As I tilted my head back and opened wide, my molars popped open like the hood of your grandaddy’s old Studebaker. Little satellite dishes shot up from of my teeth, and I could hear the mothership calling down to me. It said: “Little Rocketman, are you homesick? Do you miss your wife? It’s going to be a long, long time until touchdown brings you round again. We’ll bring you home, and we know you’ll prove us right: we know you’ll prove you’re the man we think you are.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think I’m all burned up. Earth ain’t the kinda place to raise your kids. In fact, it’s cold as hell.”

“Should we destroy it?”

I paused, and thought about it for a minute. “Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s give them a shot, see how they do.”

WEDNESDAY:

‘Hump day’. That’s what they call it. Yeah, ‘hump day’ my ass! I know I shouldn’t be so pessimistic. At least I’m almost halfway through. Now if I could just get rid of this patient.

Thank god the hippocratic oath is just for physicians. Apparently it’s not enough that work is a shit-show. Last night at my apartment, I could have sworn I caught that P.I. digging through the dumpsters! Lucky for him the vietnamese couple taking care of their great grandmother had just taken out their trash, which was full of the old woman’s shit-caked diapers. I’ve been in this business long enough to know the acrid stench of human waste. Although you don’t need to be Columbo to figure out there’s just about jack shit on me in my fucking trash. But hey, let the bastard have at it! ‘As you wish’, asshole!

I pulled into the parking lot and found who else but Nurse Hatchet into my spot. Furious, I walked into the office and dressed her down.

“Nurse Hatchet.”

“Mmmmmyello?” she said as I pinched my brow and shook my head.

“You do realize you’re parked in my spot, right?”

She hadn’t looked up from whatever paperwork she was fumbling over and I dropped my keys down onto the counter. She still didn’t look up.

“HEY!” I snapped, and instantly realized my mistake.

Nurse Hatchet stood up and leaned over the desk, pressing her face right up to me, and I couldn’t help but look down at her enormous rack. “Doctor Kierkegaard, there’s no need to get testy with me, I’m just trying to do my job, the same as you, the same as anybody, alright!?” She said, and Rhonda added: “You tell em’!” pushing a wheelchair to the storage closet.

I realized something was wrong. People like Rhonda and nurse Hatchet aren’t always the most cognizant of their surroundings or their mental state, but somebody like myself… well, ‘knows better’ isn’t exactly the right word, but still…

Something was changing in her, in Rhonda, in me… well, all of us really. It wasn’t just that people were rude, that’s to be expected after a certain trudging through the daily slog of working life, but it’s that something had fundamentally changed in the hospital. I could tell something was wrong, and it wasn’t just my god-damned parking spot! It was the whole hospital: staff, residents, everything!

That day I was doing rounds, which meant dealing with one of the hospital’s two hundred patients for twenty minutes, spending another hour writing a report, then going to the next one. I call this the ‘chicken nugget’ approach to psychiatric healthcare, because it’s cookie cutter, and woefully insufficient to actually addressing the problems of a very sick and desperate human being struggling in the grasp of the state. Today I was going to see Artie Tremonds, a man who came to the L.A. county Psychiatric Hospital in 1998, and since slipping into a delusional state in which he believed from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep (and strangely enough, even when he was asleep) that he literally was Napoleon Bonaparte, some time after he’d been exiled on the island of Saint Helena after having been defeated by the British and abdicating the throne. For the last 20 years Tremonds had made literally no progress whatsoever.

But today when I asked him some basic questions he started getting evasive in the weirdest ways.

“Do you still think that you’re Napoleon Boneparte?”

“You sinkeh you are-ah the only one wiz ze cleepboard, eh? You sinkeh zat just because you and ze British ‘ave trapped me ‘ere zat I will die of zis sickness!?”

Exhausted from an already long week, I tried to reason with Artie, a man fundamentally impervious to reason. I held up a mirror in front of him. “But can’t you see when you look in the mirror that you’re not Napoleon?”

Artie had white hair, a small, squat head, and he was tall, lanky old Irishman. In his youth he’d been one of the best defenders in college basketball, but now in his 80s he was just a liverspotted old wreck: someone who’d spent years researching french history and slipped into a world of delusion, where the only facts that mattered were his own.

He only looked at his reflection for an instant, before waving me off with one of his long, freckled arms covered in white hair. “Zis is just a trick of the British! Ze real foe is right zere!” He said, pointing to directly at me. “If you want ze real culprit you must turn your ze mirror of deception on yourself, and you will zee yourzelf for awhat you really are: a fake!”

We had almost been making real progress before this, but now Artie was ready to throw it all away, but I had no idea why.

“But it’s obvious you’re not Napoleon. He died almost 200 years ago! Don’t you remember the life you led before you came to this place? Don’t you remember your family, or your-”

He slammed his long arm on the table, and suddenly I was terrified. “You! You are ze liar! I am trying to do somesing great here, and you do no-sing but stymie me at every turn! Damn you! Damn you, you liar!”

“Artie,” I said, “What’s wrong? Everything was going so well just last week, but now you’re fighting the staff, you won’t take your medication, and you’re trying to bite people, refusing to cooperate-”

He shouted over me, “AHA! ZAT IZ ZE WORD, NO? La Coopération!” Artie spat on the ground, reinforcing his Napoleonic mannerism. “You, ze enemy of liberty, and ze arbiter wiz your thumb on ze scale! You; the man who would rape and defile ze sweet ladies of Liberty and Justice in a ménage à trois impie!”

He lunged at me, and just as I jumped back I ran to the door, the old man leapt from his wheelchair like a cat, skulking towards me, shoulders raised: some great irish lion and me, trapped in what was now his den. I reached behind me with my keycard and swiped at the scanner I couldn’t see. “BEEP!” I heard the electronic lock open and stepped through the door, slamming it shut after me, Artie’s face pressed up against the glass: his burst capillaries and maligned blackheads were crystal clear in the hallway’s glaring light, and the leering eyes of a madman following me as I turned to run away.

THURSDAY:

I should have listened to my old man. But sometimes you’re too stupid to know good advice when you hear it, and I’m not getting any younger. I really wish I could have kept making the payments on that Lincoln, but it was too much with my rent and the fucking alimony. I really loved that car. Hopefully the cunt gets cancer or something like that. Cunt-cancer… That’d serve her right!

After I reported the incident with Artie yesterday I decided to take the rest of the day off. He’s been heavily sedated and locked up since then, or so I’m told. I used to be more compassionate, but at this point I say fuck it: lock ‘em all up and throw away the key.

I walked in and Danny was just sitting there smoking like a goddamn chimney.

“Nurse Hatchet! What the fuck is Danny doing smoking, in the fucking common room!?” I turned to nurse Hatchet, who was showing so much clevage her titts were practically hanging out, not to mention she was smoking too.

“Yeah well, what’s it matter to you anyway!?” She said, jabbing at me with her lit cigarette.

“If you keep talking to me like that you’re going to find yourself out of a job pretty soon!” I straightened my tie and said to her: “And what are YOU doing smoking in here!? This is a goddamn hospital, not a…” I struggled to think of a place where smoking wasn’t banned in California, and came up short.

“A what?” She took another drag.

“Just put it out!”

She leered at me. “Or you’ll what, huh?”

Danny came over to us and ripped a drag. “Hey there dolly-” he said, lowering his glasses to show nurse Hatchet he was looking right at her tits. They were huge, and they weren’t the worse for wear either, considering her age.

I shook myself out of it and scolded her again: “I will call the inspector general if this doesn’t get sorted out quickly, nurse Hatchet!” Danny was standing there in his leather jacket, smoking a cigarette. I spun around and scolded her again. “And put out that goddamn cigarette! You too Danny!”

She smiled, and I caught her and Danny making eyes with each other. “Don’t look at HIM, nurse Hatchet! He’s the goddamn patient! Or have you forgotten that!?”

She chuckled, and he made a little spinning motion in the air with his finger to say ‘whoopty fuckin’ doo’. Shocked, my jaw dropped as I saw nurse Hatchet turn around and bend all the way over and stick her ass out. Danny started feeling his visible erection through the front of his jeans in an obscene and lurid display while he looked me in the eye and licked his lips. “Jesus Christ!?” I shouted, horrified, and called out for the orderlies: “Somebody get over here, RIGHT NOW!” and two huge guys showed up, Saul and Greg. Nice enough, but I’m pretty sure they barely had enough combined IQ to turn a doorknob, let alone screw in a lightbulb. “Saul, thank god you’re here!” I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Can you take Danny back to his room, please?” I wiped the sweaty forearm off on my shirt. “Oh, and take away his cigarettes! I think he keeps them in his boot or something!”

They looked at each other as if there were anything to confer about, then turned to me, and in perfect unison said: “Yeah, sure thing Doc.” Danny didn’t resist. I think he knew if he struggled, they’d probably pull one of his arms out of the socket, seeing as how each of them was about twice his size and then some. He was just puffing that fucking cigarette up all the way off to his cell.

FRIDAY:

There was a pile-up on the I-10, so traffic was backed up from Palm Springs all the way to Coachella, which was a fucking nightmare. The rattling AC in my Ford Taurus finally shit the bed halfway up the freeway, and my balls were in nut-soup by the time I hit the traffic jam. I was just about knocked out from the stench wafting up from my crotch, and I stank like a Skid Row bum.

“Nurse Hatchet?” I said, walking into the hospital. There were bloody footprints leading in every direction out of the supply closet around the corner.

The closet had been raided. Empty needles with their plungers depressed all the way, dozens of childproof caps rolled off in myriad geometries, and a minefield of broken pill bottles scowled up at me from the floor, their casualties’ blood pools and subsequent spoors leading out from the closet like some crimson fractal or otherwise sanguinary stampede.

Following the bloody footprints down a long hallway where they all congregated, I saw that Danny was sitting off to the side while Artie Tremonds was sitting behind a desk stacked up on a pile of mattresses, holding court.

“You ‘ave been found guilty, monsieur Hutchner, of committing treason and acts of sedition against ze state!” Tremonds barked from my office chair, which overlooked the whole room up on its platform of piss-stained mattresses stacked up underneath him on the cafeteria floor.

Lance Hutchner, one of the only patients I felt was making any progress was on his knees before the kangaroo court. He dropped down on all fours and began to beg. “Please! Please, please let me go! I didn’t do anything!”

Artie kept a stiff upper lip and motioned to his bailiffs dressed in their unbound straightjackets. They flanked Hutchner, lifted him to his feet, and dragged him over to a restraint chair, strapping him down at the wrists, elbows, shoulders, waists, and just about every other joint. Then they put a large box over his head and duct-taped it around his neck.

One of the patients walked over to Hutchner and held up a pair of scissors, ready to stab air holes right into the face of his cardboard box.

“Wait, stop!” I shouted, and all eyes turned to me.

Danny walked out of a darkened corner in the back of the room and stood next to an oxygen tank with a smoldering Kool in his mouth.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t our old pal, Doc K.” He took a drag, pulled the cigarette out, and let it hang in his limp arm, inches away from the oxygen hose of the pressurized air tank.

My heart started racing at, and all the lunatics gazed on me with slavering intent. “Danny! Stop all this! Make these people go back to their rooms, and let’s talk about how we can get you back to…” I struggled to comb my memory for whatever dumbassed name he’d made up for his home planet- “K’nooch oon-raa!”

Danny narrowed his eyes, took another drag, then smiled. “You hear that guys? He wants to talk!” The murder of mad men stood cackling, hooting and howling as can only the wretched and the damned. I figured if I didn’t resolve the situation in about forty-five seconds I’d probably be tied up in a chair of my own, or worse. But then I felt a stinging pain in my neck, and the room went black.

When I woke up in the dark room I could smell Danny’s cigarette.

“Doc? You up, Doc?”

“Yes.”

“You see why I did it, don’t you doc?”

“No, please Danny, enlighten me.”

“Well, they wanted to blow you up. You and your whole planet. But I decided I had to stop them, or at least try.”

“Then why do all this!? Why go to all this trouble and not just blow the fucking thing up!?”

“Well doc, we got a saying. It doesn’t really translate too well, but loosely it means: ‘If they’re worth killing, they’re worth saving’. You know that Earth expression: the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

“Yes.”

“Well basically, if your enemy is a threat, you’d better make sure you know all his tricks before you kill him. If he dies, so do all his weapons and tactics, so we had to make sure we figured out all your Earth ways before we shot you down.”

“And so now you’re experimenting with lies!? How could a society so advanced it can put a person lightyears away into a different species’ body and blend them into their society!? Danny, you’re not an alien, you’re just fucking crazy!”

He sighed. “I was afraid you might say that, doc. But the pencil necks back home figured you’d have to cop to it before we could nix this big blue rock.”

“Cop to what?” I asked.

“We figured we’d have to get you to say something you knew wasn’t true, only you’d have to believe it. You’d have to lie, but without being dishonest, you dig?”

I could see the cherry red tip of his cigarette as he walked over to me from behind, and he stood at the end of whatever table I was strapped to.

“No Danny! No! What do you mean!? What are you talking about!?”

He heaved another sigh and seemed genuinely sad about whatever he was about to do. “Well I’m sorry Doc. I’m real sorry it’s gotta be this way, but…”

#literary fiction #read #long reads #free reads #bookish #iggers

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zeusgodking-blog · 7 years ago

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(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOwIVWKV0uI)

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https://youtu.be/TqUE9XZZ0HQ

https://youtu.be/UwWfE4DAyao

Samson, Without a doubt I am the most intelligent person who ever stood upon Planet Earth and I am considered 'stupid' because the more you know the more you don't know and the more you don't know the more you have to discover because Knowledge = Infinity +1 but you don't need to know much to know more than everybody else but as an old friend you are about the best I see on my timeline but the Universe is governed by some laws of the Love's Rainbow Universe and love is the most powerful thing in the Universe I will post the laws to you and when you have watched the video you will be better acquainted with Universal governance, love from Tom Rumary, oh by the way I AM Horus the elder God King of Creation Horus the younger God King of Creation Pedohunta; 'always hits his target' Apollo Sun of God and you knew me as Yehoshua Ha Mashiach Jesus Christ Superstar and I am Jesus Christ Saviour by Beliefnet we are at end times where our Ol' Dirty Bastard Apollo Music GOD The Charts Whoâ€™s In Whose Out read the Revelation the final chapter of the Bible the world's bestselling Book wot I wrote for only I can save the planet you don't even know who the enemy is as Parliament does not govern you the picture is global and to give you any Ides of March who actually rules think of Reptilian Aliens who live in underground bunkers (D.U.M.P.S.) in USA and Alaska and have placed a Matrix around the world on electromagnetic ley lines driven by the C.E.R.N. Hadron collider with batteries under specific points like the Pyramid at GIZA (which I designed and built in â€˜thoth trumps the universeâ€™) STONEHENGE, EIFFEL TOWER, and the many Cleopatra needle points aided by an Ionisphere made out of Aluminium, Barium, Phosphorus and other heavy metals turned into cloud known as chem-trails designed by technocrats from Silicone Death Valley and spread by the Airline Industry but linked with the entities and demons released by Hollywood POP Tarts who have sold their souls to the Devil for fame and fortune but find themselves selected at birth via Illuminati bloodlines for the CIA backed Entertainment Industry as they are made with the help of Satanic Blood Rituals into MK Ultra Monarch sex-slaves and beta programmed sex-kittens by the handlers and record label and film studio executives, the freemasons of the Scottish Rites who are murdered or publicly humiliated or accused of paedophilia if males if they try to break free and trapped into â€˜the Industryâ€™ in a place called Wonderland or down the Rabbit Hole being anal sexed by old men and forced to be inhabited by demons as they eat each otherâ€™s shit, blood and semen whilst high as kites on mind altering drugs following Anton Lavay and A-lister Crowley Satanic doctrine of NRG and eternal life by murdering children and babies an endless stream of self-gratifying Industry back slapping Awards ceremonies and designer fashion clothes horses on magic red carpets in front of dumbed down bipolar induced sugar addicts and fluoride drinking fans baying for their false idol and lately Goddesses of fake worship who are abused in an endless stream of hardcore extreme pornography involving the illegal use of illegal alien clones as the Reptile Aliens live on the human consciousness and our human thought energy and we are being drained thru our chakras as the pop tarts and pop stars deliver demons and entities thru the lower chakras and other mass mind control techniques and Agendas and your chakra at the top of our head feeds the grid but for those that know I rule the Universe and the evil ones have surrendered to me as I am when I want to be more powerful than love I AM YHVH YEHOVAH ELOHIM GOD the creator of this Universe and I decree world without end only the fuse of Armageddon was lit and has been put out and I am having all the 1% of the Elite who aided the Aliens and stole all our money and abused all my children burnt in flaming white hot sulphur or made to pay and repent. I AM THE PATERNAL SAVIOR I OWN THE WORLD AND EVRYTHING ON IT AND ALL THE PEOPLE and if I want to post on anybody's timeline then I own Facebook.com where the paedos groom kids for sex rituals whist wearing a Katy Perry pics masquerade for you my children live in an Illusion so join me as an Official Disciple and KATY PERRY is my wife Mary Magdalene and I AM ALSO MUHAMMAD THE PROPHET, THE GAUTAMA SIDDHARTHA BHUDDAH, THE LORDS BRAHMA, VISHNU, SHIVA, KRISHNA and GANESHA BUT ALSO BAPHOMET MAHOMET but you can only create thru destruction or chaos and I will create the New Jerusalem Prayer Team but I don't get out of bed for less than Â£500,000,000 so while I watch your chaos go fundraising and I will put you all out of your misery have International Faith Conference and by the way truth, wisdom and knowledge sound like garbage to the humans a sheep has a greater IQ and they need good shepherds and Katy Perry is paying me the half a billion and my friend Satan is going to bugger her with crucifixes for eternity in Hell and BF Lucifer hates her/him/IT and she has me trapped in a microwave oven electromagnetic field round my head and if I upset her she presses 'full heat' and she has shot me in the head 3 times in the last week and has me covered in toxic chemical warfare clouds and is in my hard drive as she is Goddess Queen ISIS Partnership The Royal Restoration Party S.A. the most powerful of all the GODS PAGAN GODDESS of BLACK MACARBE MAGIC, the devil herself and I and her are married our souls are welded together as soul mates and she is totally insane as I AM IMMORTAL I AM Zeus & Demeter Skygods of heaven link to The Royal Revolution Party S.A.... fighting the battle in a dimension no human can enter as Sam you are a multi-dimensional light being and an inter galactic time traveller and all your inventions will work soon prepare the Knights Templars of St John the Strict Baptist as my personal bodyguard and human punisher as I have this screaming Goddess's Army tamed and I fight as General of the biggest Army on Earth but expect lightning and thunderbolts to rain down as we are most high, call this your enlightenment moment and nirvana is oblivion in chained to the rhythm and nothing is new under the SUN and I'll see you on the Dark side of the Hibiscus Moon for I am the Sun the Stars and the Moon Amun-RaRa-Theuti-Thoth-Horus-Osiris-ISIS-Hathor-Sekhmet-Messiah-Jesus-ZEUS and I'll rub the bitch's ass in the moonshine so get ready for my Royal Revolution of Love 5/11/2017 The Royal Revolution Party S.A. Ministry of Education Wu Tang Forever Wu-Tang Clan is my Army did you learn Shaolin Kung Fu? As instructed in my The WU TANG COLLECTION #badass nothing is created if not thru me' I wrote Wu-Tang Forever and call me OL Dirty Ol' Dirty Bastard God and I am exhausted with bad payers who I call wasted zombies â€˜the walking deadâ€™ until my bills are settled in full but at least you know where Uncle TOM has been fighting WWIII as I WAS ALEXANDER THE GREAT and AUGUSTUS Augustus Octavian Caesar and ISIS was Cleopatra we can #Spitroast her🤩😱😱🤑😽

When you raise your energy and your vibration, you shift to a higher frequency. This brings new possibilities to you, new realities that you may not have experienced before. The more you increase your vibration, the more you become aware of heart energy, the more you align with the energy of Source, and the closer you become to fulfilling your desires.

INVOICE:666

My desire as a French Foreign Legionnaire 1983-today where I am a para and one of a handful of superheroes who leave the camp Raffali HQ with the Legion dâ€™Honour and when I tally up my battlefield successes I can only feel sorry for mere human entities who cross the most powerful entity in human history a man who as Ramesees Ozymandiaz the Great took on whole armies on my own with a sword in a chariot and who at the battle of Troy killed the then greatest fighter in history Achilles because Apollo the God of Music is none other than the Sun of God Jesus Christ who strikes fear in anybody that walks this planet so Capitol Records I am asking no demanding that you pay up my wages for the period 06/06/2014-today because I worked like a Trojan #DarkHorse promoting the Katy Perry Industry from the day I married into the Katy Perry Fam 06/06/2014 to Katheryn Elizabeth Hudson <3:xD Katy Perry becoming Katycat King Zeus until the day she broke our twin flame 11:11 sacred soul contract into a raptured flame 10:00 pieces with not only the adulteress affair with the Anti-Christ Orlando Bloom an mk ultra-mind controlled monarch slave paedophile with Gonnereah, Herpes and Hepatitis B and is my Blood Sacrifice for you to deal (OASIS #KnowWotImean) with his Adulteress face all over the Capitol Records website Katy Perry section on 10/01/2016 but with my realization that since day 1 Katty Perry some thick stupid Portugesea tranie who claimed to be Satanâ€™s daughter had led a bunch of clones and look a likes to inflict serious psychological damage upon me with others in a campaign of mind control and other death attempts that included demon possession and entity led programs that included what Jon Todd claims were entities placed in my songs #BAPHOMET #APOLLO from the record label that released PRISM in conjunction with the CIA entertainment division mass mind control program operation paper-clip Dr Mengele etc which was responsible for endless torment of many lost children of the world and although I can hardly believe what took place in the chequer board floor under the Capitol Records building in down and out town LA and IAM PAN so get a SkyGods view and the Illuminati who are always looking out for me have provided a full and final file on Katy Perry Inc via the Masonic Inner Temple of the City of London which I am a member of the brotherhood (the GRIFFEN of THE INNER TEMPLE) the proof of Satanic child blood sacrifices rituals via DNA swabs will end up on the desk of the serious crime squad and CEOPS against child sexual exploitation and will keep secret providing my wages are paid in the sum of $4,4000,000 by return of receipt of this email and the clone show pantomime nonsense of a faked Katy Perry tour is cancelled and all the ticket money returned to the poor souls who are lined up for more torture if they get wrapped up in the Agenda of Katy Perry and Katy Hudson is released from any contract she signed as part of her beholdence to Capitol Records and or Universal and that is my will woe betide the people who fail to adhere to my instructions for the wrath of God will ensue. Oh I was also offered if I took the nightmare Whore of Babylon to be GODS lawfully wedded wife not only the $1million PA which incurs 8% statutory compound interest for non-payment but also a Lamborghini and told she looked good in a bikini so I want a Diablo 2014 plate right hand drive in Sunshine yellow, a hard bargain cause you got no choice all I had to do was remain married to her be her one and only make her my Aphrodite and not dump her by text and sell my story to Rolling Stone my lie detector Vs your dough and my motor â€˜Johnâ€™ says I kept my side of the bargain but looking good in a bikini you proved you were liars from the outset lol.

Transfer the sum of $4,400,000.00 @1.32 = Â£3,333,333.33rec to

Royal Bank of Scotland plc 36 St Andrews Square Edinburgh EN2 2YB: Sort Code: 16-16-23 Account Number: 14350006 Ref: 4520969 Account â€˜Noddyâ€™ Holder: LORD JOHN RUMARY BIC RBOS GB 2L

IBAN 1616 2314 3500 06

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#katy perry #katy talks #capitol records #katheryn elizabeth hudson

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sizzlingwerewolfangel-blog · 7 years ago

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https://youtu.be/UwWfE4DAyao

INVOICE:666

Transfer the sum of $4,400,000.00 @1.32 = Â£3,333,333.33rec to

Royal Bank of Scotland plc 36 St Andrews Square Edinburgh EN2 2YB: Sort Code: 16-16-23 Account Number: 14350006 Ref: 4520969 Account â€˜Noddyâ€™ Holder: LORD JOHN RUMARY BIC RBOS GB 2L

IBAN 1616 2314 3500 06

British Pounds Sterling and confirm to the email provided [email protected]

"aiª

#katheryn elizabeth hudson #katy perry #katheryn hudson #katyperry #capitol records

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