Snakes in the Grass

Hey, Hello, Hi, What is up, When, Who, How, Where.
What a refreshing way to greet you all isn’t it? Even if it’s not I will continue to greet my readers in this way. Except that I really won’t because it’s too much work for me to do it. It’s way easier to say Hello. And it’s more fun to say Fuck Off. So my official greeting might become Fuck Off. Who knows ? I don’t. Do you? NO. Exactly. Shut up.

Today I will do something for you that’s never been done before on this little blog. Probably because it’s an extremely new blog but let’s just forget about that. In this post I will write you all a nice short story. I am a failed write so it’s an obligation to write short story stuff on a blog no-one reads–I mean that everybody reads. Anyway, here’s the story!

”The Drum That Nobody Drummed On”
By The Caveman

Once upon a time in Snakeland there was one brown drum that stood one meter tall. His name was Jameson. He had never felt like he fit in because he never got a long with the other drums. When the snakes of Snakeland drummed on him he could not resonate the right sound that so many other drums could do. Sure, it was hard for other drums too, but they always managed to practice and get the right sound. All the drums had practiced and found their sound by their twenties. Jameson was now thirty-five years old, and still he had not found his true tones. Worries began to seep into his mind and he felt desperation take hold of his every though. What could he do? All the other drums had mothers and fathers to teach them and the richer drums even had a snake mentor that could help them become professional drums. Jamesons parents had left him because they did not want to live in Snakeland anymore. They left their son a note saying ”This is Cratp and Junerah, you parents, and we hate it here in Snakeland. It’s impossible to lay in the grass on a sunny day, or any day actually, because that’s were all the treacherous mafia snakes are, you know the ones called Snakes in the Grass. They always try to sell us bananas and we always fall for it. They are just too good at manipulating us. We don’t even like bananas. Who the fuck does? Anyway, Snakes in the Grass are too powerful for us and we have no money left because of them. The reason we are leaving you behind is because you need to defeat the Snakes in the Grass so that we can come back and live in peace there. Or something. Bye!”
This only made him feel twice a failure. He could not find his right drumming sound and he could definitely not bring down the all too strong Snakes in the Grass mafia. They basically ran all of Snakeland through corruption and manipulation behind the scenes of politics. It’s a perfect system because it’s always the balloons that gets the blame.

One day Jameson met a snake who wanted to drum on him. Jameson felt worried but he thought ”Maybe this is when I find my drum sound?” and let the snake drum on him. Anyway. As the snake gently tapped his tail on top of Jameson he seemed surprised. His taps were very smooth and almost untraceable. Jameson had never encountered this kind of drumming before. All the other snakes always banged their head on top of him and slithered away feeling disappointed. This snake did the exact opposite. He was not at all rough, only used his tail and seemed satisfied. Jameson could not think of any reason why because it was the same old stupid drum sound he always generated.

”You are a very special drum. What is your name?”
”Jameson. What’s so special about me?”
”Have you ever heard about the dancing note?”
”No. What’s that?”
”It’s a note that make all the snakes have a seizure. It makes them twitch and writhe in such a way that makes it look as if they are dancing to a hardcore dubstep beat. You can find that note and destroy the Snakes in the Grass. It’s your task.”
”What? How do you know–”
”Jameson! Don’t drum fast, like the others. Drum super hard and at a slower pace. Eventually you will find your sound.”

Before Jameson could say anything more, the wise snake was gone. After this encounter Jameson went home and practiced his drumming. He tried to slow it down and drum really hard instead of going super fast like he had always done. He did this for days and days. He even forgot to go to his car job, where he pretended to a car for white people to ride through the town. On the fourth day, he drummed so hard and so slow that a new type of feeling arose within him. A fire he had never in his life felt before. Jameson wanted to fight and throw his head a round in a wild… dance. He had found the dance note! He did not know how he knew it, but this was the dance note!

That same night he went to the meadow where Snakes in the Grass had their headquarters, and he started drumming. Nothing happened. He kept going, even though it was hard to muster the strength that was needed. Suddenly, the members of Snakes in the Grass started to jump up in the air and they twitched so beautifully. The wise snake from before did not say how pretty the dance would look, but oh, how beautiful it all was. When all the snakes were dead the wise snake reappeared.

”Jameson! I am obliged to tell you what happened to your mother and father.”
”How do you know?”
”Because I know stuff, idiot. They are dead. They died years ago. And you did all this in vain. The other members of Snakes in the Grass will search for you and kill you. I don’t understand why you didn’t gather all the Snakes in the Grass in one place before doing this. You made everything worse. Thanks. I’m out. Bye!”

Jameson felt so disappointed in himself that he started drumming the super hardcore beat again. This time, he drummed so hard that he felt his soul slowly shatter. Soon, he exploded and was never again seen by any any living snake, drum, white person or balloon.



Fyll i dina uppgifter nedan eller klicka på en ikon för att logga in: Logo

Du kommenterar med ditt Logga ut /  Ändra )


Du kommenterar med ditt Google+-konto. Logga ut /  Ändra )


Du kommenterar med ditt Twitter-konto. Logga ut /  Ändra )


Du kommenterar med ditt Facebook-konto. Logga ut /  Ändra )

Ansluter till %s