The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
https://www.heals.com/ercol-windsor-nest.html
On 2019-01-02, The White Lady <me@privacy.net> wrote:to
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of others. >>
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
That would work best as a Saw-style scenario with Gareth waking up shackled
a chair, fear palpating his heart, frantically screaming for help only tofall
silent as the CRT television in the corner of the room comes alive withstatic
that settles into the image of a puppet with concentric red circles painted under its eyes.furniture.
"Hello Gareth. I want to play a game."
"What the..?", mumbles Gareth breathlessly.
"Your life has become empty", continues the puppet. "So empty that only through acquisition of meaningless status symbols in the form of decorative furniture can you derive any remembrance of pleasure. Your mind has become a prison, your house the four walls and your furniture your gaoler."
"No," replies Gareth to a screen that cannot hear him, "I like my
I need it."furniture.
"I am offering you a choice," resumes the puppet. "The choice of freedom over bondage. You must decide whether material possessions are to dominate your existence or whether you can live in the world as a free man. In twenty seconds' time, your restraints will open. In the next room is your
You will also find there a chainsaw. All you have to do is take the chainsaw and cut your furniture into kindling."feet
"No!" whimpers Gareth.
"Be warned, though," continues the puppet, "you will have two minutes. If you fail in the task you have been assigned, a deadly poison gas will be released. Life free or die. The choice is yours."
Gareth looks maniacally around the room and sees a camera in the corner.
"Why are you doing this?" shouts Gareth.
His restraints click open and Gareth dives from the chair into the next room. His stackable coffee tables are in the middle of the floor, unstacked, in the corner his reproduction Chippendale wardrobe and next to it the occasional tables he was too embarrassed to tell anyone on alt.horror about. At his
lies the chainsaw.and
"Noooo..." whimpers Gareth.
Gareth runs over to his tables and checks them for scratches, tops, bottoms
the sides of the legs. He goes to his wardrobe and checks the door stillopens
smoothly. He then goes to his occasional tables and gives them a loving caress. He then turns to the chainsaw and looks at it for a moment.wood,
"Fuck this!" yells Gareth.
Gareth runs out of the room back to the chamber he woke up in and runs to the door. It is made of solid steel and the windows are boarded up. Gareth frantically starts pounding on the door screaming for help. His screaming turns hoarse as his throat becomes tight with pain, his eyes blinking back astringent tears. Through his clouded vision, Gareth can see a yellow vapour pouring in through the vents. Nausea brings him to his knees as he starts to vomit, his eyes now burning, every breath like acid in his lungs.
Doubled up in pain with life starting to fade before his eyes, Gareth has one last flash of inspiration. A safe place, somewhere he can hide from all the pain. He starts to run, doubled up, into the room with all his beloved furniture. He stumbles into the wardrobe door, hoping he didn't mark the
and tugs it open. Flinging himself into the confines of a solid oak embrace, he pulls the door shut and sits back, gasping and wheezing. Gareth knows he won't live but he realises deep down that this is how he always wanted to go. He feels safe in his wardrobe. Even with his body wracked with pain andevery
breath ruining his lungs and nervous system, he has never felt more at peace, more protected or more loved. As his final breath rattles out of his chest,a
tear rolls from the corner of his eye. An onlooker might think his tear dueto
irritation from a high concentration of chlorine gas but Gareth felt it as a tear of relief.
That would work best as a Saw-style scenario with Gareth waking up shackledto
a chair, fear palpating his heart, frantically screaming for help only tofall
silent as the CRT television in the corner of the room comes alive withstatic
that settles into the image of a puppet with concentric red circles painted under its eyes.
"Hello Gareth. I want to play a game."
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
On 02/01/2019 19:06, The White Lady wrote:
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of
others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
Followed by burning all those ridiculous trainers of his.
On 2019-01-02, The White Lady <me@privacy.net> wrote:
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness of
others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
That would work best as a Saw-style scenario with Gareth waking up
shackled to a chair, fear palpating his heart, frantically screaming
for help only to fall silent as the CRT television in the corner of
the room comes alive with static that settles into the image of a
puppet with concentric red circles painted under its eyes.
"Hello Gareth. I want to play a game."
"What the..?", mumbles Gareth breathlessly.
"Your life has become empty", continues the puppet. "So empty that
only
through acquisition of meaningless status symbols in the form of
decorative furniture can you derive any remembrance of pleasure. Your
mind has become a prison, your house the four walls and your furniture
your gaoler."
"No," replies Gareth to a screen that cannot hear him, "I like my
furniture.
I need it."
"I am offering you a choice," resumes the puppet. "The choice of
freedom
over bondage. You must decide whether material possessions are to
dominate your existence or whether you can live in the world as a free
man. In twenty seconds' time, your restraints will open. In the next
room is your furniture. You will also find there a chainsaw. All you
have to do is take the chainsaw and cut your furniture into kindling."
"No!" whimpers Gareth.
"Be warned, though," continues the puppet, "you will have two
minutes. If
you fail in the task you have been assigned, a deadly poison gas will
be released. Life free or die. The choice is yours."
Gareth looks maniacally around the room and sees a camera in the
corner.
"Why are you doing this?" shouts Gareth.
His restraints click open and Gareth dives from the chair into the
next room. His stackable coffee tables are in the middle of the floor, unstacked, in the corner his reproduction Chippendale wardrobe and
next to it the occasional tables he was too embarrassed to tell anyone
on alt.horror about. At his feet lies the chainsaw.
"Noooo..." whimpers Gareth.
Gareth runs over to his tables and checks them for scratches, tops,
bottoms and the sides of the legs. He goes to his wardrobe and checks
the door still opens smoothly. He then goes to his occasional tables
and gives them a loving caress. He then turns to the chainsaw and
looks at it for a moment.
"Fuck this!" yells Gareth.
Gareth runs out of the room back to the chamber he woke up in and runs
to the door. It is made of solid steel and the windows are boarded
up. Gareth frantically starts pounding on the door screaming for
help. His screaming turns hoarse as his throat becomes tight with
pain, his eyes blinking back astringent tears. Through his clouded
vision, Gareth can see a yellow vapour pouring in through the vents.
Nausea brings him to his knees as he starts to vomit, his eyes now
burning, every breath like acid in his lungs.
Doubled up in pain with life starting to fade before his eyes, Gareth
has one last flash of inspiration. A safe place, somewhere he can
hide from all the pain. He starts to run, doubled up, into the room
with all his beloved furniture. He stumbles into the wardrobe door,
hoping he didn't mark the wood, and tugs it open. Flinging himself
into the confines of a solid oak embrace, he pulls the door shut and
sits back, gasping and wheezing. Gareth knows he won't live but he
realises deep down that this is how he always wanted to go. He feels
safe in his wardrobe. Even with his body wracked with pain and every
breath ruining his lungs and nervous system, he has never felt more at
peace, more protected or more loved. As his final breath rattles out
of his chest, a tear rolls from the corner of his eye. An onlooker
might think his tear due to irritation from a high concentration of
chlorine gas but Gareth felt it as a tear of relief.
On 02/01/2019 19:06, The White Lady wrote:
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness ofFollowed by burning all those ridiculous trainers of his.
others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
On Thu, 03 Jan 2019 18:59:47 +0000, Simon T wrote:
On 02/01/2019 19:06, The White Lady wrote:
The next best thing to being happy is taking away the happiness ofFollowed by burning all those ridiculous trainers of his.
others.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
He'll be along soon telling us that he sold his trainers for ridiculous amounts of money.
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
Followed by burning all those ridiculous trainers of his.
On 2019-01-03 18:59:47 +0000, Simon T said:
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
Followed by burning all those ridiculous trainers of his.
And his kiddy watches.
On 07/01/2019 13:48, Dr Walpurgis wrote:
On 2019-01-03 18:59:47 +0000, Simon T said:
We can start by tying Gareth up and making him watch as we smash his
fucking coffee tables to bits.
Followed by burning all those ridiculous trainers of his.
And his kiddy watches.
g shock are not kiddie watches!
an ex squaddie i worked with claimed everyone wore them 'in the stan' as
he put it when not threatening to kill colleagues.
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