Karson Valenti's Voice Mail
"NO, WAL-MART, I'M NOT GOING TO RETURN YOUR FUCKING CALLS. I APPLIED TO YOUR SHITTYASS STORE, LIKE, A GODDAMN YEAR AGO. I DON'T. WANT. THE. JOB. STOP CALLING.
If you're not Wal-Mart or a telemarketer, just leave a message, and I'll probably get back to you eventually. Seriously, though, this is 2012. Why the hell aren't you using something that's suitably futuristic and technologically advanced, like text messages or email? Who the fuck calls people anymore, I me---"
*beeeep*
If you're not Wal-Mart or a telemarketer, just leave a message, and I'll probably get back to you eventually. Seriously, though, this is 2012. Why the hell aren't you using something that's suitably futuristic and technologically advanced, like text messages or email? Who the fuck calls people anymore, I me---"
*beeeep*
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Watch this.
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Avery has seen the horrors of the internet in bulk.
But this.
This?
Cannot be compared to. This is just genuine awfulness mixed up in one horrible uncanny valley with oversexualized teddy bears and cultural appropriation.
Her face is blank as she eats her icecream and provides moral support. Her pupils are unusually large. She feels the need for a stiff drink.
This is their Vietnam.
When the end of the video comes, Avery has nothing to say. Not even nasty passive aggressive comments about how Karson doesn't remember that her mom is in jail for having a meth lab and being a methhead. Not even those. And she planned on pelting him with those for at least half the night.
No, no. She's silent. She bows her head and a drop of icecream melts down her hand and she doesn't even have the heart to lick it off.]
Yeah, [she says finally, in agreement of the multiple 'no' sentiment.]
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A small child with his family of three attempts to sit at the free half of the table, but one stray gaze into Karson's eyes reveals the fact that no, they really didn't want to sit there, and yes, they were going to get in their cars and drive home immediately.
All life in the immediate vicinity begins the long and arduous procession to death-- all bugs live a few days longer before shriveling up and expiring; plant life is devoured heartlessly by dying bugs within the week; the bench never stood a chance. ]
I... [ He remains silent for the first time in his life. There are no more words. No more thoughts. All words are gone; all thoughts have died.
There is nothing that remains. ]
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Time slowly starts up again.]
... So, that happened.
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Promise me this.
[ Karson Valenti is now immune to time's flow. ]
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And I can promise that I'm never going to get over the mental scarring.
[They have transcended the mortal condition together. They are infinite. Broken, beautiful angels covered in melted ice cream.]
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We should prepare. Prepare for the coming of the Miley storm. If you gouge my eyes out, I'll pop your ear drums. Deal?
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[She laughs then, because as if. She'll never be able to keep away and if she has to suffer through it, so does Karson. This she swears to herself, quietly, subtly, and not while muttering the whole spiel under her breath.]
Okay, but anyway, that was just part one. [Reaching across the table, Avery produces her own phone (which she irresponsibly left sitting there unattended) and places it in front of him.] Read it all and I'll buy you chicken fingers before they stop selling hot food.
[What is on the phone, you wonder? Why, it's a detailed slideshow on the harmful effects of methamphetamines. This is the top picture, followed immediately by a series of pictures detailing the stages of meth mouth, and then again, after that, three or four comparison shots of The Faces of Meth. The rest are an assortment of delightful facts on how meth can, generally and specifically, fuck up your life. There are about fifteen pictures total.
Her face is as stone: serious and immovable.
Happy motherfucking reading.]
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Why this? Why this thing?
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Will.
Never.
Find.
Meth.
Funny.
Again.
[She folds her arm. She is a tyrant, possessed of an empathy blind spirit. She does not feel your suffering.]
Now keep reading. You're like, three quarters of the way done.
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[ look at this woman. shows the woman. ]
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Now look at that face. Do you want that to be your face, Karson? Do you want to be a face of meth?
No, no. A Face of Meth, [she repeated with Scare Capitals this time, ruthlessly breaking the IC-to-text fourth wall.]
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Okay.]
There's no way you just read that that fast. Go back. You'll read it all or no fried chicken and honey mustard or whatever you like to dip it in.
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[This is her final offer.]
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