[Someone is singing ‘Smack my b*tch up’ by Prodigy at the top of his lungs. The voice, however, sounds strange, as if the person singing is trapped in a small place. The voice stops singing suddenly.]
What the heck!? [There’s silence for less than three seconds before a series of swears can be heard for about ten minutes. Then there’s the sound of a fist connecting with wood.]
Oh yeah, immortality is so great. Too bad I had to discover my power once they buried me alive! And now the fucking iPod died. What I am supposed to do?
[There are some incoherent murmurs, but most of it is insults again.] I knew it, I knew I had to have one too. Why would the damn storm give them those powers and not me? They really expected that this super sexy man who’s Nathan Young to be rotting six feet under? Such a waste, the ladies must be crying and broken-hearted. What would Kelly…
[He goes silent, remembering the girl.] I need to get out. [There’s silence again, and a frustrated sigh.] Ugh, I really need to shit too.
Third Person: Dying hurt like a bitch. No, scratch that. Lying there stabbed by a fence hurt like a bitch. Fuck those mindless acts of heroism, this wasn’t a pleasant experience. And he never even got to see if his plan worked and everyone got back to normal in the end. Oh well..he couldn’t do much while he laid six feet below the cold ground, could he? No.
So he waited, listening to his iPod until the damn thing died, then decided that he couldn’t pull a ‘Kill Bill’ (he tried, but stopped after he nearly broke his hand), and waited more while being grateful that he wasn’t a zombie. He started to smell like one, though. The coffin was just too fucking small but at least it was comfy. Why the fuck did they make coffins so comfy, he asked himself. It’s not like the poor fella that ended in one of them could enjoy it. He was the exception, duh.
Nathan scratched his chest; just a few hours ago there was a hole there that was now completely healed. Hours? He guessed hours, but he had no idea how long he had been trapped down there. He had no phone or way to contact others and his brain quickly arrived at a conclusion. He was screwed. Fucked over.
Nothing new in his life, sadly. Resigned, he waited some more.
Nathan Young | Misfits 3/3
[Voice]
[Someone is singing ‘Smack my b*tch up’ by Prodigy at the top of his lungs. The voice, however, sounds strange, as if the person singing is trapped in a small place. The voice stops singing suddenly.]
What the heck!? [There’s silence for less than three seconds before a series of swears can be heard for about ten minutes. Then there’s the sound of a fist connecting with wood.]
Oh yeah, immortality is so great. Too bad I had to discover my power once they buried me alive! And now the fucking iPod died. What I am supposed to do?
[There are some incoherent murmurs, but most of it is insults again.] I knew it, I knew I had to have one too. Why would the damn storm give them those powers and not me? They really expected that this super sexy man who’s Nathan Young to be rotting six feet under? Such a waste, the ladies must be crying and broken-hearted. What would Kelly…
[He goes silent, remembering the girl.] I need to get out. [There’s silence again, and a frustrated sigh.] Ugh, I really need to shit too.
Third Person:
Dying hurt like a bitch. No, scratch that. Lying there stabbed by a fence hurt like a bitch. Fuck those mindless acts of heroism, this wasn’t a pleasant experience. And he never even got to see if his plan worked and everyone got back to normal in the end. Oh well..he couldn’t do much while he laid six feet below the cold ground, could he? No.
So he waited, listening to his iPod until the damn thing died, then decided that he couldn’t pull a ‘Kill Bill’ (he tried, but stopped after he nearly broke his hand), and waited more while being grateful that he wasn’t a zombie. He started to smell like one, though. The coffin was just too fucking small but at least it was comfy. Why the fuck did they make coffins so comfy, he asked himself. It’s not like the poor fella that ended in one of them could enjoy it. He was the exception, duh.
Nathan scratched his chest; just a few hours ago there was a hole there that was now completely healed. Hours? He guessed hours, but he had no idea how long he had been trapped down there. He had no phone or way to contact others and his brain quickly arrived at a conclusion. He was screwed. Fucked over.
Nothing new in his life, sadly. Resigned, he waited some more.