#makes my brain book it out the back of my skull like a fucking looney-toons skit. makes it go kablooey. leaves no trace but a dust cloud

[thebearme]

what ur sam & max headcanons

ok, here some of them from the top of my head cuz i can't remember the rest of them.

Max is a shorter then average lagomorph, and the type of lagomorph he is a none-of-your-damn-business.

Max is a jack rabbit. Funny thing is jack rabbits aren't even rabbits, that's why it easier for him to say he's a lagomorph instead. I mean- he's not wrong.

Sam is trans.

Both Sam and Max have a distant relationship with their moms and a dysfunctional one with their dads. But Sam has a wonderful supportive relationship with his grandmom while Max has an interesting relationship between his siblings. Max like his aunt Tillie more.

Sam's blood is probably tooken over by lil debbies by this point of his life.

Max was the creative soul and Sam is the genius of their friendship when they were kids, until they both became insane lunatics.

Sam was on honor roll all through out school and got the chance to graduate early in high school. Of course he didn't so he can spend more time with Max.

Even though Max's late teen years he had a awakening not a gay one. He realized how much of his life he felt like he's been wasting, not using his full potential or even trying in school and how that is not just fucking up himself but also Sam.

This leads to Max letting go of Sam so he can go to community college while Max does something that lets his creativity shine. He wanted to be a film director but he knew you have to work up to getting that job, so he started as a actor... in "adult" films. His super ego is rolling in his grave

Max also tried and failed to finish making a book.

Max got into a whole ass serious relationship with a woman until he remembered he doesn't like girls. (conveniently when Sam comes back in town)

Max is always living his worst life without Sam.

The reason why Max can't get hypnotized from s1 and why he gets brain powers in s3 is all because of a metal plate in his skull from brain surgery he had off screen before the telltale games. not really a hc but i haven't seen anyone connect the two things

When the two were younger because of Max's awful homelife, Sam's grandmom took pity on him and lets him come over to her house anytime he wants.

Granny ruth is the best parent in the state and was a conviced felon. Which is one of the reasons why she lives in the middle of nowhere.

Max hides is objects in his void behind is back like a cartoon character in looney toons. He doesn't talk about it because it's just unexplainable, like how Sam can somehow put a whole box in his coat pocket. Some things in the world are just not explainable.

Max knows full Spanish growing up and would troll Sam with untranslated jokes or rambling.

Max is rarely scared by anyone but the one who seems to succeed is Thyco. Max and Heavy killed him that poker night, hidden the body and haven't talked about him again... Besides thaat poker night was fun!

Sam listened to [Yes sir, I can Boogie] in the car the whole time Max was gone.

bonus my OLD design of Sam's family

i wish i could remember more but

1) alot of my hc came from when i first got into snm. so some of them would have changed now

2) im not in a sam and max mood, so this is only some of the stuff.

[contravarius-blog]

ANDRE COLTA

>>>So Dhakan ditched you?<

>I don’t know<

“Did you always know you were into cock?”

“No.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“What does sex mean to you?”

“It’s nothing more than anything else... it’s fun... it’s the soul’s rebirth..”

“Did you know Dhakan was only with you to leave you?”

“No, but it makes sense. He’s a god. I’m not.”

“A god you say?”

A god.

You are to lay on the floor of the bathroom while you cry. You will feel agonies you didn’t know were possible. This is all as it should be, Kelja. The mess of a human being a human being (odd sentence.) A mammal that cries and snots and shakes all over. Pelicans frequently raid the nests of other birds on volcanic islands. No this should not be a new paragraph. The pelicans do this while the parents are away getting food in the ocean. And what they do is, they swallow these plump little downy chicks alive, and you can see the thing squawking as it gets sucked down the gullet of this sudden monster. This is after a short lifetime of security and warmth and food. It all just ends eaten alive for no reason other than that God thought it appropriate. How’s the gullet of life working out for you? Is it getting dark and bitter and suffocating?Is there any pleasure left in it, dragon chaser? Do you ever notice the visual snow? Do you realize you’re hallucinating your whole reality? That all this stuff in front of you isn’t what it seems to be?

<<<Why yes, now that you mention it. The volcanic islands of the pelicans, they are responsible for the loudest sound on record, a volcanic eruption that circled the earth three times and shattered windows thirty miles away. People within one hundred miles of the blast had their eardrums blown out instantly. You can be subjected to a sound that drives you to madness. Dhakan knew about Jamie somehow, and he used his voice to repeat the things Jamie said, and I was on a drug, and I couldn’t move...

<<<I have to say, Kelja, that none of this sounds logically connected and I’m wondering where you’re going with it and if there’s a point to it.

<<<Thank you for letting me know you feel that way.

<<<You’re welcome.

<<<Colta stands over the boy, puts a hand on his shoulder. His crotch is inches from Kelja’s face, and it’s giving him a boner and turning his stomach. He wants to suck on it and he wants to run away. He always wants to do pairs of opposites. The homonculi pull to either side of his corpus cavernosum, moving in opposite directions on the same line, trying to divide what is already barely joined. It would be tempting to say that Kelja is two people in one skull, but he is actually four, that is, two people who both have split personalities. He also has occasional blood clots from sitting in uncomfortable positions for long times, a completely unrelated offering that may be designed to provoke frustration and unease, because like de Sade’s work, this one also wants to victimize its audience. The real purpose behind all this writing is to get YOU to kill yourself. You are reading this for a reason. The universe is speaking to you through it. And the universe’s message is: don’t wait for the pelican. This book can be your pelican. You recently purchased an item and the brand name was Pelican, and this is no coincidence.

<<<There are realms none of the people around you know about. When you learn too much, you discover that truth is solitude, because consensus is the lie. It really is everyone else that’s wrong. Very few have gone as far as you have. Consider an analogy; only the man who climbs Everest knows what that’s like, even though everyone else will have a basic agreement on how it must be. How can the know? You have climbed your Everest, Kelja. And you have returned changed.The stuff peaked at behind the curtain can’t be unseen. Your blinded eyes will never forgive you because now they can’t stop seeing.

<<<Colta rubs the back of your head. He knows you like this. He does it in exactly the same way Dhakan did. He looks down at you with easy to read intensity. There is hunger on his face. You can see the outline of his meat through his loose-fitting athletic pants. Big. “Yeah,” he says. He’s watching you look at his favorite thing. “You want that, don’t you? Go on, take it out.” It is true that porn sells more than everything else media-wise combined. Mostly men want to see the cock going in and out, over and over, up close, with those melodious wet smacking sounds that mean dinner is being served, which conforms to the hunger on Colta’s face. Bodies are all there is. No head, no heart, no soul, just meat in a bag of skin waiting for the gullet.Everyone must be processed and picked at, opened, seared, ground, all and any varieties of damage must be meticulously inflicted on them until no intact meat in the skin bag is left to torture. This book is for you. It is about you, and you know it, and that’s why you got to this sentence, see, because the universe is talking to you through it. Connect with this and open the gates. We are ready for you, mate.

<<<So you were a film student, Kelja? Then where is the school? Why do you have to make up all this stupid shit to impress me?

*Loser with no prospects*No future*No skills*Unemployable*Not ugly but close*Not smart*Not talented*Useless*

“You’re a fucking cute little fuck, you know that?” Colta says the words/ smirk smile bedroom eyes face lit up like a witch at an Auto da Fe/“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable”/ Close proximity hand on shoulder room isn’t very well lit alcohol is kicking in smoke in the air music on something jazzy sexy swing maybe/

“It’s ok,” Kelja says.

From Colta’s mind the words this guy could use some affection, holy Christ I thought I was a lonely sonofabitch but him/ like a kid whose puppy is laying run over in the street, half the fucker impossibly flat like some kind of meat pancake and the boy is just this thing covered in the residue of yearning for some impossible connection/ or just the bare perception of closeness/ some chemical in the brain would be enough if it just produced the sensation that one had no boundaries, that the each was in all and the all in each and all the division and solitude had been horrific illusions brought on by the world’s maya, the trickery of surface appearances, but in the end if you were conscious you were all each other’s consciousness and there was no reason to feel this empty scraping smashed-out negative pressure making you grab out with sick cloying desperation, red in your starved eyes, your hunger making you unlikely to get fed/

<<<Dhakan ditched you and you’re ashamed at how much it hurts

<<<It’s not just that, though, is it? You’re fucking going looney toons with the retropredictive references got the psych manuals open to the tasty bits about schizophrenia and borderline personality disorder and every other name they’ve got problems for/ little detective wants to self-administer therapy and medication a machine trying to fix itself self-repairing robot/ and all the gears and firmware and wires get to be so obvious the steps behind all you do the machine learning to see itself as Other/

<<<“Where’s the school, Kelja?”

“I told you, I don’t know where it went.”

“You don’t know where it went?”

“No. There’s a fucking warehouse there. Boarded broken plate glass windows, some kind of deep pond, had a vision of it before I saw it some people were killed there I don’t know where my school is now and I wasn’t living in forever City before either-”

“Where were you living then?”

“Well that’s the odd thing, is, I’m having all these memory issues now cause Dhakan gave me that drug, the Gobstopper, only it did jack diddly shit at first had no effect sitting there pulling on the pipe like fifty times waiting for the bitch to kick in and feeling like I got ripped off even though I didn’t pay for any of it and then days later stuff, little things, stuff starts to happen, and now i realize that i did it. Onlyi it’s not a drug, see, there really is no drug at all. This is all a made up thing, some kind of big trick, all of it, my whole life, none of this is real, but it’s the only reality there is for me, but something is controlling it, authoring it, and you see, that’s why I was a film-maker, that’s why I was writing a screenplay, it was all a metaphor for my own situation, for me being scripted, my whole life start to finish, all this, right down to you and this room and the words I’m saying, all of it is pre-programmed and devised by this infinite evil intelligence-”

“Why does it have to be evil, Kelja? Am I evil? Do you think I’m going to hurt you? I wouldn’t. You should know better by now, i’m your friend. I’m not Dhakan. i have no motive to use you or trick you. I’m as cold and lonely as you are. Look at my eyes. I don’t sleep. My only thought is to find Mix N Match. Before he does something to me. He knows... he knows about me, I’m sure, oh that’s right, i told you, I told you about the pictures.”

“You told me about a lot of things, Colta, but why the gay stuff? How are you going to hit on me and then say how much you loved Dhakan’s mother?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Nevermind. It’s whatever. But it’s weird. It’s off. You know it is. You’re playing with me. All the things you said. Overheard conversations, the paranoia, it’s all started happening to me. For all i know it could be you. You could be the one doing all this. Is that the joke here? Is it you? Are you the one doing it all to me? Did you invent Dhakan? Are you creating Mix N Match? Did you make this city? Are you controlling my mind? Do you put thoughts-”

Colta grabbed Kelja by the arms and pulled him up to standing, hard, then hugged him close, harder when his young friend tried to resist. Kelja swore and exclaimed and thrashed, but the outburst was short-lived. Colta grasped him firmly and this was a kind of warm paternal embrace, there was nothing sexual about it in any way. It was the kind of thing designed to force the knowledge that you were cared about by someone who could take care of you. Someone bigger to look up to. At least that seemed to be Colta’s intent.

“I look at you and from a mile away i see the hurt in you, Kelja.”

“I’m not fucking hurt, I don’t give a shit, if this is about Dhakan, well, fuck that piece of shit, now let me go!”

“I won’t. Kick and scream all you like, but I’m going to do this until you give up.”

“Then I’ll just go limp and you can hold me like a fucking idiot all day if it makes you happy, but this is some stupid-ass shit if you ask me. What the fuck are you even trying to do? You think I need this? Like I have to get approval from you ? You want me to act thankful like you’re doing me some great thing I owe you for just cause you give me a few moments of your time every now and then?”

“Where the hell did that come from?” Colta sounded bewildered. “It doesn’t even make any sense, what you just said.”

“Nevermind, forget it, fuck off.” Kelja bucked two or three times but Colta’s arms were bunches of iron. “I’m going to do things you can’t even imagine,” Kelja said, resentful defiance in his voice. “You want to know something, Andre? I hate you. You get it? I fucking hate your guts, and all you are is a pile of them. Guts full of fucking shit. Lies. You’re nothing but lies. You did all this to me. You fucking did it all.”

But a spasm overtook Kelja’s voice. It was sudden and involuntary and caught him by surprise. It was caused by the emotion his affectations tried to conceal. His throat choked. He knew he’d been heard. Just like that, found out. All laid bare. And he gave up hiding. He began to cry. To cry like the kid with his run over pup.

Fake hard exterior reaction formation simple mechanism predictable. Little toy little toy stupid fucking little simple toy. Basic human programming machine operations. Emotion activation protocol circuits doing their thing in high dudgeon.