DJ Holy Body's Blog Chapter 225 (A Science Fiction Novel)
Before the tummy gun installation in Compton, this body went through a dramatic episode. With all the conspiracies online I guess it's safe to write about it.
A couple of lifetimes ago, although my body is still made of the same flesh and bone, I was on tour doing the Holy Body thing, and our bus broke down. I was the only real rockstar doing the show. This other guy who was opening for me wasn't even a musician. This freaking big slob was just a radio DJ talking into a microphone and making thousands! And okay, Mickey Mallens was good for being seventeen but how he got on my tour is still a mystery to me. His songs were great, but his voice was terrible.
Anyways back to my story. We were drinking up on the plane that we only had because of me, and I was just stating my opinion about how I was carrying the tour and making everybody a fortune. Then all the sudden this seventeen-year-old kid pulls out a gun, so of course, I pulled out my gun and shot him in the hand. Everyone freaked out because it took a couple of his fingers off and his gun dropped to the floor.
The pilot started going crazy and yelling. Mickey hit the floor. I think he was in shock. The radio DJ guy started trying to negotiate with me to get control of my firearm. I just had a small gun I kept in my jacket in case a crazy fan attempted to assault me at one of my concerts.
I wasn't trying to hijack the plane, but when the pilot threatened to call in on his radio, I shot him, Mickey, and the radio DJ without giving it a second thought. It was three shots in a row. It was a triple homicide. I tried to take control of the plane, but when I landed, I crashed and split my head open, had my lip torn to shreds, and had my left hand ripped off. I ran into the forest and ran and ran as fast as I could.
After a while, I heard laughter followed by the words, "Run Buddy Run!" I tripped over some tree branches. I looked up and was surrounded by military guys laughing at me. I was arrested.
Then I was on death row, and I kept wondering why doctors and therapists were trying to rehabilitate me when I was going to die anyway. I had obvious brain damage, and a group of doctors gave me a weird electronic hand. I clapped my hands when I started getting my speech back. Eventually, I got the chair.
I had to go through this frozen in ice and a bleaching process. I had my memory erased. The crazy part came later when I decided to abandon a life of super-fame in a government experiment to resurrect the biggest rockstar of all time.
Eventually, this entire thing led to a kingdom, so I have no regrets. Time manipulation, technology, and some crazy scientist doctors made the impossible possible. From an outsiders perspective, it would look like the biggest magic trick of all time.
A couple of lifetimes ago, although my body is still made of the same flesh and bone, I was on tour doing the Holy Body thing, and our bus broke down. I was the only real rockstar doing the show. This other guy who was opening for me wasn't even a musician. This freaking big slob was just a radio DJ talking into a microphone and making thousands! And okay, Mickey Mallens was good for being seventeen but how he got on my tour is still a mystery to me. His songs were great, but his voice was terrible.
Anyways back to my story. We were drinking up on the plane that we only had because of me, and I was just stating my opinion about how I was carrying the tour and making everybody a fortune. Then all the sudden this seventeen-year-old kid pulls out a gun, so of course, I pulled out my gun and shot him in the hand. Everyone freaked out because it took a couple of his fingers off and his gun dropped to the floor.
The pilot started going crazy and yelling. Mickey hit the floor. I think he was in shock. The radio DJ guy started trying to negotiate with me to get control of my firearm. I just had a small gun I kept in my jacket in case a crazy fan attempted to assault me at one of my concerts.
I wasn't trying to hijack the plane, but when the pilot threatened to call in on his radio, I shot him, Mickey, and the radio DJ without giving it a second thought. It was three shots in a row. It was a triple homicide. I tried to take control of the plane, but when I landed, I crashed and split my head open, had my lip torn to shreds, and had my left hand ripped off. I ran into the forest and ran and ran as fast as I could.
After a while, I heard laughter followed by the words, "Run Buddy Run!" I tripped over some tree branches. I looked up and was surrounded by military guys laughing at me. I was arrested.
Then I was on death row, and I kept wondering why doctors and therapists were trying to rehabilitate me when I was going to die anyway. I had obvious brain damage, and a group of doctors gave me a weird electronic hand. I clapped my hands when I started getting my speech back. Eventually, I got the chair.
I had to go through this frozen in ice and a bleaching process. I had my memory erased. The crazy part came later when I decided to abandon a life of super-fame in a government experiment to resurrect the biggest rockstar of all time.
Eventually, this entire thing led to a kingdom, so I have no regrets. Time manipulation, technology, and some crazy scientist doctors made the impossible possible. From an outsiders perspective, it would look like the biggest magic trick of all time.
Comments
Post a Comment