Thursday, September 15, 2005
The Story of Ralph the Mouse
Ralph came into the Army with full confidence - and enthusiasm. There was food, shelter and companionship awaiting him in the Army. Ralph had always looked up to the Army as revered Gods, they were almighty and powerful. Now that he joined the Army, he was now an elite member of society.
The Academy had a near-perfect record for enlistees going on to the Higher-Army for further training. The Management would preach to new recruits how effective their training method was. Recently, they even became the best in all of Qearkland, as the previous year's best Academy had gone on to provide an even higher level of education: direct admission to the Higher-Army.
All was well, well at least for the first week. He felt welcome. He felt wanted. He felt good.
However, that was not to be. All that was well wasn't well soon.
Poor ol' Ralph had been worn out by fatigue. Slowly but surely, he fell into the abysmal black hole of sleep deprivation. His Academy teachers did not mind Ralph sleeping during lessons, for most of his fellow classmates was sleeping during the boring lessons too. This cycle of fatigue - sleep in class and try and follow up at night - had taken its toll on Ralph; as if failing the first examination wasn't enough, he continued to fail all the following examinations the Academy could throw and fling at him.
As Lady Luck was on leave that unfortunate year, Ralph got channeled into the worst class in his cohort, along with all the other mice whose guardian angel was sleeping. Nothing can come out from nothing, and this particular class is a world-class specimen. His vicious cycle became even more detrimental to both his mind and body, and imbued with sins that even The King of Hell would consider sins, he succumbed to the pressure, becoming a hollow ghost of his previous self - void of morale and motivation. His only will to live on was gone, but his body would not shut down. So Ralph drudged on the path of tragedy. An unfortunate chain of events would soon lead to his tragic downfall.
Ralph would not last long.
Ralph did not last long.
Ralph came into the Army with full confidence - and enthusiasm. There was food, shelter and companionship awaiting him in the Army. Ralph had always looked up to the Army as revered Gods, they were almighty and powerful. Now that he joined the Army, he was now an elite member of society.
The Academy had a near-perfect record for enlistees going on to the Higher-Army for further training. The Management would preach to new recruits how effective their training method was. Recently, they even became the best in all of Qearkland, as the previous year's best Academy had gone on to provide an even higher level of education: direct admission to the Higher-Army.
All was well, well at least for the first week. He felt welcome. He felt wanted. He felt good.
However, that was not to be. All that was well wasn't well soon.
Poor ol' Ralph had been worn out by fatigue. Slowly but surely, he fell into the abysmal black hole of sleep deprivation. His Academy teachers did not mind Ralph sleeping during lessons, for most of his fellow classmates was sleeping during the boring lessons too. This cycle of fatigue - sleep in class and try and follow up at night - had taken its toll on Ralph; as if failing the first examination wasn't enough, he continued to fail all the following examinations the Academy could throw and fling at him.
As Lady Luck was on leave that unfortunate year, Ralph got channeled into the worst class in his cohort, along with all the other mice whose guardian angel was sleeping. Nothing can come out from nothing, and this particular class is a world-class specimen. His vicious cycle became even more detrimental to both his mind and body, and imbued with sins that even The King of Hell would consider sins, he succumbed to the pressure, becoming a hollow ghost of his previous self - void of morale and motivation. His only will to live on was gone, but his body would not shut down. So Ralph drudged on the path of tragedy. An unfortunate chain of events would soon lead to his tragic downfall.
Ralph would not last long.
Ralph did not last long.
Friday, September 02, 2005
The number 33 is one that is not to be taken lightly.
The number 33 can toy with your life.
The number 33 can also ruin you life, among many other things.
Most importantly, the number 33 will have severe impacts on anyone's life.
The Count cannot even count to 33.
It would most possibly result in him being decapitated.
Or even eviscerated.
Maybe even removed from existance dun to a black hole forming in the core in his brain.
There are more than 33 ways to ruin your life.
You have to seek them out yourself.
But why 33 - a number so ordinary and plain?
There are more than 33 ways to tell you why.
But 13 lines of text are sorely not enough to tell you the pains of torment and torture: you would pass out in your chair even if I decided to reveal the gruesome reasons why.
The number 33 can toy with your life.
The number 33 can also ruin you life, among many other things.
Most importantly, the number 33 will have severe impacts on anyone's life.
The Count cannot even count to 33.
It would most possibly result in him being decapitated.
Or even eviscerated.
Maybe even removed from existance dun to a black hole forming in the core in his brain.
There are more than 33 ways to ruin your life.
You have to seek them out yourself.
But why 33 - a number so ordinary and plain?
There are more than 33 ways to tell you why.
But 13 lines of text are sorely not enough to tell you the pains of torment and torture: you would pass out in your chair even if I decided to reveal the gruesome reasons why.