Intense ‘Nemesis’ Confrontation!
‘Oh
dear, a nemesis.’
One
of the pioneering pieces of writing for Incredible Scenario’s was a small
section about a peculiar chappie claiming to be my nemesis. This article was
sarcastically entitled ‘Oh dear, a
nemesis’, and with good reason. After all, Incredible Scenarios (that’s me)
has escaped from the flaming Extreme Ineptitude Head Quarters following
Hitler’s blitzkrieg , survived several head on car crashes, done battle with a
fearsome cowboy AND managed to survive sizzling Year 12 English. The threat of
a nemesis is hardly frightening compared to those
things.
The
‘nemesis’ story. It’s so sad. Yet somewhat rad. Actually, scarp that last statement.
Remember
high school. Remember the routines you got yourself into. Routines like the one
where you would walk past a particular friend each morning, patentedly nod in
their direction and receive a patented nod back. Now, despite the fact that
your friend would always fuck the patented nod up, they did manage to bring a
sense of harmony and ease to the rest of the day. Well, imagine walking past
your friend one morning, nodding in his / her direction and receiving not a
nod, but a slow shake of the head followed by a long, blank stare instead. What
would you think? That’s right, you would think it was just some kind of joke,
and wouldn’t care. But what would you think of it after the tenth time? You
would suspect that your friend has contracted retardness, and try to find out
more. Upon finding out more however, you would discover that your
once friend no longer regards you as his friend, and instead regards you as his
‘nemesis’. This is precisely what happened to me. And this brings us to now, a
year or so later, in which my ‘nemesis’ and I met and actually conversed. Get
ready fuckers, here it comes.
Many,
many retard pills.
It
was the final day of school. Ever. Anyway, I passively
wandered out of the assembly hall after a ‘practice prize giving’ (the real one was incidentally a shambles, but that’s another
story) and met some rather nasty friends. We chatted for a bit, and eventually
the ‘nemesis’ approached. He looked at me with emotion, opened his mouth, drew
some air and said…
“I hate you…because you are my nemesis.”
Was
that fantastic or what? So, I had waited for a year and a fucking bit to hear
this crap. Oh yeah, that really put things into perspective, didn’t it? Oh
people, please keep in mind that the imbecile who said this is infact eighteen
years of age, and is not a member of the chess club. I think he played ‘Magic’
for a while though. Yeah, that must be it.
Nurse,
we need many, many retard pills now! He’s getting talkative!
Above:
This is what my ‘nemesis’ thinks he looks like, I’ll wager.
Below:
This is what I currently look like. A bit.
You see, the biggest problem with ‘nemesis’
statement was that I already knew that he regarded me as his nemesis. I wanted
more.
“Why
am I your ‘nemesis’?”
Indeed,
quite an appropriate question, and definitely the most prominent one on my mind
at the time. If you thought the ‘nemesis’ opening statement
reeked of retardness, then wait until you hear how he responded to the above.
“Because…you
were once my friend, and now you are my nemesis.”
What
the fuck? I’ve asked babies more complex questions than ‘why are you my
nemesis?’, and above all, I’ve heard babies of even lesser intelligence than
normal babies answer such complex questions with more detail than what the ‘nemesis’
managed to yield. So, because he was once my friend he is now my ‘nemesis’? I wasn’t happy with this answer. Infact, it wasn’t
a valid answer at all. The ‘nemesis’ failed to even consider the most important
word used in the question, ‘why’. But
I wasn’t going to give up there. So I kept drilling for information.
“Yeah,
but why are you my nemesis?”
“Because you were once my friend.”
“Erm.”
“…”
“So,
what’s the point of having a nemesis?”
“What’s
the point of life?”
“Hmmm. Good point.”
*Nemesis
nods.
I
was by this point where I thought that I had made progress with this clearly
distressed man. Indeed, the last part, in which we very briefly debated the
point of life was very reminiscent of larger debates I had had with the
‘nemesis’ a couple of years earlier, when we were pals. Don’t leave, the good bit is coming up.
“Y’know,
we have made a little progress today.”
“No.
We haven’t.”
This
is where I lose patience.
“Fuck,
if this was an essay it would only receive three out of twenty. You need to
explain why.”
“No
I don’t.”
Note:
Only retards score less than four out of twenty in a essay, so therefore the ‘nemesis’
is evidently a retard. More retard pills, nurse.
I
tried desperately to get him to answer ‘why’ using a variety of re-arranged
questions and suttle remarks. All of which failed, of course. I gave up on that and got to the next bit. I
had heard rumours from several mysterious individuals that the ‘nemesis’ wanted
to kill me, and decided to focus there instead:
“Anyway, when will you kill me?”
“When I no longer need you.”
“And
when will that be…?”
“…”
Above:
The ‘nemesis’ in the midst of a retard fit.
“Well, what will become of our ‘nemesis’ relationship over the next few
decades? I suspect I won’t be
seeing much of you in the future.”
“No.
You will forget about me. And when you have forgotten about me, I will kill
you.”
*The
‘nemesis’ walks away.
And
that’s that. So what can we learn from this mess? The largest one is that it is
possible, despite what TV says, to catch retardness. It is also evident that
retards struggle to comprehend the significance of the word ‘why’, and therefore
refuse to acknowledge it’s existence. Another thing we
learnt is that the ‘nemesis’ will kill me when I’ve forgotten about him. Fuck
you nemesis.
Holy shit!
Nemesis attacks!
The
‘nemesis’ obviously reckons that I had forgotten about him forty-five minutes
after our confrontation, as forty five minutes after our confrontation, whilst
crossing a road following an short escapade around the local mall, he ‘burned’
toward me in his car at an alarming speed. (I managed to evade unscathed, in
case you were concerned.) This is simply more evidence that the nemesis is a
retard, as retards have no perception of time. Here,
he confused the two factors of ‘a few decades’ and ‘forty five minutes’. Above all, however, the ‘nemesis’ tried to
take my life. What a nasty piece of work!
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