The Unfortunate Accident
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I apologize now. This should serve as a warning to all that want to attempt this. This isn't a joke. This isn't a game. This is dangerous. In fact, I never exactly intended to do this. It was really an accident. I'll tell you right now, my name is Simon Rhodes. I really fucked up. Yes, I know, me, swearing. Its probably a bad influence on my brother. He's, very easily influenced to put it lightly. I have a great uncle named Stansted. We'll leave it at that for most of his description. He is, well, he's long passed now. Not a very nice bloke if I were to be tasked with describing him. I am not but I offer my opinion anyway.
It was a rather drawl day. My brother was probably having a wank. He does that a lot. Or maybe, he was just out driving, looking to find a babe. Oh, wait. I remember now. This incident has wrought havoc on my mind and memory. He was out with his friends in the states. He helped test drive kevved up cars or something like that. I asked him about it a few times but he has always been vague. He always gave a different answer. I don't think I've mentioned his name yet. He's my little brother, Stanford.
The rain pounded down outside. It was absurdly loud and deafening. I hadn't much to do that day, considering the inclimate weather, so I decided to use my computer. I browsed the web for a while, checking out a few questionable websites that I won't mention here. This isn't a wank bank tale I tell. Just get that thought out of your head, you disgusting pervert. I was looking up prices on cocaine, okay? I tried to quit but its bloody fucking hard. Why don't you try living my high stress life? You bellend, don't fucking question me. I browsed the web until I eventually had to check the time. Then it dawned on me that it was relatively early in the day and also the day of my great uncle Stansted's death. I was filled with immense concern. It was me or my brother this year. I couldn't have something happen to my little brother. I belled him, or at least I attempted to. He didn't answer. Was he busy? What the hell could he have been doing? I tried again a couple times until eventually I relented and left a voicemail.
"Hey fuckbag, pick up your phone." I started "I'm coming to visit, okay? Be grateful, because the price of plane tickets is going up like the price of hookers these days."
I slammed my flip phone shut, don't judge me. Normally, the screen would have shattered because I am just so strong and beefy, but it was a limited edition John Cena cream theme dank meme Nokia. I then felt my phone vibrate. Dr.Dre's "The Next Episode" began to play because that is my ringtone. I looked at the caller ID. It was my little brother. I opened my phone and answered the call.
"Hey Guuuuuurrrrrl." Stanford said
"Hey, shitdick." I began quietly "I'm coming to visit"
"Okay, yeah. I got your message. By the way, why can't you just teleport here?" Stanford retorted
I then remembered that we found the dragon balls together and got the power to warp space time, resulting in teleportation abilities. Totally not a convenient writing ploy.
"Oh yeah, I remember now." I said kindly
I ended up right next to my brother after being engulphed by golden light. As I materialized next to him, I looked in his deep green eyes. I realized that my brother is even uglier than I remember, despite us looking fucking identical barring out hair styles. I stared at him until he looked disturbed and awkwardly put away his phone. He raised an eyebrow at me, frowning. He began to back away until I stopped staring.
"Hey, you know what today is?" I asked
"u Wot m8" Stanford asked
"Stansted is gonna throw an evil patrixxx at us." I whimpered
"But he's dead." Stanford said, perturbed
An evil Patrixxx came out from under Stanford's bed and looked him in the eyes. Stanford shivered slightly. Evil Patrixxx then slowly reached up a single nubby hand. He put on a white glove, making his hand assume a normal hand shape. He then bitch slapped Stanford and crawled back under the bed, not breaking eyecontact with Stanford once.
"Okay, so maybe that wasn't the thing he'd do." I questioned
"I don't think Stansted even has access to Evil Patrixxx." Stanford muttered
"Evil Patrixxx transcends space time." I said glumly
My brother motioned for me to follow him. We walked around the garage for a bit. I noticed how barren the place seemed. I saw the look of concern in Stanford's face. I then saw the circle of salt around his car, the Reverb. Or maybe it was cocaine. I attempted to snort some while Stanford wasn't looking, probably beating his dick, and it turned out to just be baking soda. It wasn't even salt. We were going to get ass fucked by ghost dick tonight. Incest is not wincest, especially with dead relatives. Was great uncle Stansted ready for dank booty? I sure as fuck wasn't.
Stanford was sitting on the floor at this point. He was burning a roll of sage, or it could be weed. He was waving the sage around because the smoke supposedly dispelled ghosts. I was honestly hoping it was weed. This was probably a freudian projection in my mind to be completely honest. Stanford wouldn't just burn weed unless he was gonna smoke it. Did he still smoke weed? I actually wasn't sure and was tempted to ask him but didn't.
"So, what are we going to do?" Stanford asked
"I'm not sure. We could look up some rituals on the net."
We went on my laptop, which I had brought with me when I teleported. I looked up ghost banishing rituals. I found one called "Ritualistic Spirtual Cleansing Methods." It looked very helpful and legit, considering the ratings. I gave it a keek and told Stanford. He agreed so we gathered the materials necessary; A black salt candle, a bundle of sage, a buttplug, the blood of the innocent, red string, a doll, and lube. The first step was to light the candle at 2 am. It was 5 pm now so we had some time to wait. Stanford pressed for me to perform the ritual sooner rather than later. I wondered if not doing the ritual to its exact specificities would result in horrendous or horribly sexy outcomes. I thought my brother was naive for thinking the ritual would work even if we didn't do it exactly right. I decided that waiting around to get assfucked by a dank dead ghost was probably equally as foolish, if not worse than getting the ritual over with. We did wait, however, for at least 30 minutes, letting the time appraoch 6.
We lit the candle with a lit bundle of sage. Stanford had extra. I may sometimes dislike my brother or his antics, but I was always a little jealous of his ability to prepare and be far more organized than me. I never showed it, however. He waved the sage around while I thought about where we would get the blood of the innocent. Stanford has never killed anyone so I stabbed him in his kidney. Turns out he was missing a kidney because he sold it for drug money. Fortunately for Stanford, his friend, Tezz, was growing kidneys and selling them on the blackmarket. He could stand to part with a pair. Stanford will probably live until then. I took the doll and rubbed the blood on it, giving it life. I was certain that this would just bind Stanford to the doll, but what do I know about this shit? I think because Stanford was a virgin that it didn't work that way. I stitched the red string into the doll while Stanford continued to burn the sage. The string bound the doll to our physical realm. I placed the doll firmly atop the buttplug. It turns out the lube was completely useless but I kept it anyway.
"Simon, I haven't seen anything so far." Stanford said
"I think he'll show up soon." I said
"You think?" Stan retorted
We waited for a few minutes while the candle burned. I started to worry about my bro. I called for him to sit down next to me. I may treat him like complete ass but I can totally protective over him. Really, I'm not a bad person. I didn't attempt to prostitute him for drug money. He's a virgin I swear. Just as I thought that, the lights dimmed. It became very quiet. My brother shivvered but I remained still, not being a complete fucking wuss. A light had shone from the outer reach of the room. Things were beginning to fall off their shelves or topple over. Then, it was still and quiet again. We then both saw it. It was a blue apparition right in front of us. It lacked definitive features but we knew what it was, or rather whom it was. It was Stansted. He did not seem to assume a corporeal form but seemed to have a heavy presence. The ghost was still and somber. There didn't seem to be the usual aggression that followed it. Then, it took on the characteristics of Stansted and materialized. He pulled out a bag of weed and lit up.
We were both confused. Stanford and I wanted some weed too. Just then, Stanford realized that he was still missing a kidney and his other was fucking bleeding. Stanford fainted. I sighed, annoyed, and went to Tezz's room to get some dank black market kidneys. Tezz was being a fucking arrogant asshole because that is literally his only defining characteristic. He was also tripping balls on acid but that isn't canon so ignore it. Tezz was midly annoyed that I came in uninvited so he started asking questions.
"What kind of salad do you like?" He asked
"Oh, I prefer garbanzo beans in my salad." I replied politely while I stole kidneys
"Yeah, me too." Tezz mused
"That's really nice, Tezz." I smiled
I left the room with the kidneys. I shoved them inside of Stanford and he was better even though that makes no sense. I mean, he would honestly be dead by now but I can't have that happen in the story. I would look like a negligent brother and our major plot points would be pretty much nonexistent. I mean, this has zero legs to stand on, much like Stanford whose legs were being sawed off at this very moment. Wait, Fuck. I'm not paying attention for one moment, one fucking moment and he gets himself into another fucking mess. He is such an incompetent fuckbag. I smacked him over the head with the buttplug and he was sobbing uncontrollably. Then I found the discarded lube on the floor. I tilted it over to read the label an some got on Stanford's face. Whoops, Looks like I hadn't put the cap on.
"Oi, what was that for?" He muttered through sobs
Just as he said that, his legs began to grow back. I then looked to the ghost. Stansted stood there silent and still. He had a guilty look on his face.
"Stansted, who sawed off Stanford's legs?" I asked scoldingly
Stansted teetered on his feet and pointed to a freaky blue alien girl. I was shocked when I saw her.
"What the motherfuck is that?" I screamed
The blue alien, whose name was Sage, looked shocked. She then backed away slowly and started to run off. I nearly shat my pants while Stanford loomed behind me. He grabbed the buttplug and lugged it at me. I fell unconscious as it made rather violent contact with the back of my head. I woke up several hours later. Stanford was smoking a blunt on his bed naked. I was really confused.
"Oh, I thought you were dead." Stanford began "I should probably put my clothes on."
"Ya think? Definitely do that." I replied
Stanford put his clothes on as I got up. The back of my head smarted something awful and I rubbed it begrudgingly. I took out a blunt and lit up to ease my pounding headache, despite the fact that smoke inhalation actually worsens headaches due to depriving the brain of some oxygen, even for a short amount of time. I mean, there is no logic here anyway so here goes nothing. I lit a fat fucking blunt and got dank as fuck. I don't give a damn if I'm royalty. I need to let loose every now and again too. I'm only god damn human. Stop judging me.
So things have never been the same for me. I have this constant headache. I mean, I probably have a concussion and this will just go away in a week, but I'm a dramatic cry baby bitch, so I'll complain about it a lot. What was the point of this? Was it just to prove that I don't have a crippling drug addiction? Oh yeah. Don't ever, EVER, mess up a ghost trapping ritual. They'll take your family and smoke weed with them and convince them to hit you with sex toys. I've never felt such an awful headache in my life. It is quite terrible. Oh, by the way, I'm pretty sure my brother wasn't a virgin. I was secretly high off my ass when I sold his body and I actually think I was successful. Make sure you use authentic virgins in your rituals. Also, don't steal kidney's from Tezz. He'll fuck you up. I mean, he's a scrawny little shit but that glove of his? Baby oh baby.
Never in my life have my parents been more disappointed in my brother and me. I mean, I've gotten away with all kinds of shit but you know, smoking weed is just literally the worst thing anyone can do. I mean this is probably just one giant anti drug PSA. I'm high right now so you can really tell that it does impair your judgment. Don't do drugs, kids. Tell your hooligan friends that Simon Rhodes said no.
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