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Mass Fiction is a long running collaborative fiction effort.

words ...

day, motherfuckers! i'm going to build that shit up into a monster! spam away!

And now for something completely the same.

come on fuckers, come visit my website! don't make me paste some mother fucking spam in here. all right, here comes some spam.

*ring ring*

She said. "Are you free next Wednesday?" I have decided we are going to the spa for a massage, my treat."

Lolling on the couch reading the local paper as we talked on the phone, I saw an ad that had not been in the paper the day before. The damn ad was in the Union Democrat Newspaper. I thought what the hell?

"Asian Massage - Women Only - $19.95".

"Hey, here is an ad that offers massages for women for $19.95, that is a lot less than the upscale spa you were thinking of, you want to call the number in the ad and check it out, we might want to try the bargain massage...?"

She made the appointments and I met her when she got off work and I hopped in her sweet new hotness ride. New cars, she always has new cars.

We cruised along Stockton Blvd.looking for the address the person on the phone had given her. It was a woman's voice, an ASIAN woman's voice on the phone when she called for the appointment. This in itself was unusual. There are no Asians in this county. No blacks. A couple of Hispanic families live here and one of them owns an excellent restaurant. We see no Asian ladies here. The population of the "town" we live in is 200. We drove 30 miles of bad road to get to the address given when we made the appointment. It was in the next town down the mountain.

She parked when she started seeing numbers close to the ones we were seeking. There were no obvious looking spa type buildings to be seen as we walked in the late afternoon sun.

No matter, we had found a window that had the word "SPA" and "KEEP OUT" glued on with those square paper letter sets from the Dollar Store. There was a door bell button with "ring for service" scribbled in red marking pen on a index card. And so the song played on.

Out of tune, and regularly off-timed ...but so it played. As a song it wasn't up to much either! It was all really really dumb. Or so thought Dan.

Dan shaked his head with little enthusiasm and took back to his book. You see, he was reading up and *frunch* a bit suspicious of his apple. "This has gone a bit", he thought and dunked it nicely. He should've been a b-ball star for that one alone!

But he wasn't. Of course he wasn't! He had a ball but was more akin to spinning hoops than layin' em through... This was NOT a sporty man.

And that was true. "Why not pick the winner and just leave it there!", he used to say to an audience of rolled eyes. He was just too detached to really get the primal tribal scene of finding comfort in a group by holding fort against another. It just seemed mad to him, but then, he was "a lonewolf" as he liked to consider himself...

He wasn't truly alone and in many ways, found many who appreciated his 'quirks' and queries. He was on a spinning edge, and I think, a position he ultimately chose ...due to the alternative.

With that said, he didn't speak so much. He thought a lot more than he said, and couldn't help but see his friends to be exceeding in quite the opposite manner. But then, they appeared to be aiming at a target he'd have never considered. Doing well in 'this' life was nothing to be celebrated; but he DID have friends, and those who were would celebrate his differences - it made a nice change for them and, at times, they felt they could quietly speak about their REAL troubles when things became difficult. It was a burden, but in ways he felt that to be his place in life; one of the many things he might offer ...if entirely necessary... At that thought, he rolled HIS eyes.

These were early days, and he had a lot more comin'... then all of a sudden Hitler appeared. He brought a loaf of bread with him, and he fed some of it to some nearby reindeer. Then he met up with santa claus, and went for a ride in his magical sleigh. they visited santa's workshop, and fucked with the elves a little bit.

hitler decided he wanted to conquer some countries, so he got on a boat and sailed to russia. he didn't know how to speak russian, but he was good at playing charades, so he convinced a bunch of russians to follow him. an angry dog tried to bite hitler, but he punched it in the face and it ran away. then later he felt bad for the dog, so he gave it some dog food.

hitler went into a russian bar, and found a drunk guy named fred. fred spoke english. fred told hitler the two of them should go visit his friend Hans, who lived underground. They visited Hans, but little did they know that while walking through the underground tunnels to get to Hans, they actually went back in time by 23 years.

When are you fuckers going to admit that this site is dead, that it died some 12 or 13 years ago?

Yes I do remember the golden era of the Internet. This site is one of the last traces of those days. We can't go home again but we can talk about Spencer.... ...contribute to our story.


Here's where you can contribute. Type something into the box below. Take the story wherever you want. End in the middle of a sentence and the next author can continue from there. Or not. Only the mundane and the idiotic* is disallowed.

I am not a spammer: 

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