Many moons ago, I, @NoNamesLeftToUse The Writer/Artist Himself attempted to write a comedy series intended to be exclusive to Steemit dot com. Had I not given up due to lack of interest and eyes on this project, we'd still be reading it today. It was never supposed to end.
Today, I present to you, the entire incomplete series, complete with the original artwork that looks like shit intentionally and every little fucked up joke I could think of at the time. If you think you see a typo, it probably isn't a typo. This was meant to be ridiculous and I was having fun with wordplay. It's fiction. It's about a blogger and at times the blogger actually has a chance to blog about this messed situation he finds himself in while other times the story reads like a combination of a comic book and a play. Enjoy.
P.S. The humor here is intended for mature audiences only. You might want to get a drink and some popcorn.
Act 1: To the Top of the Food Stamps and Reaching New Heights Along the Way
Well hello there! My name is
the writer himself. Yes, it's true, there wasn't much of a selection that day. You should bookmark now. You'll find yourself regretting, yourself, ...if you do not. This is not what I'd like to speak about today. This article is going nowhere. Maybe I'll just paint something...
What? That up there? I was just talking about my food. They said "half a nour would be dair," three half an hours ago. I just got a tiny bit bored is all. Did you think it was about those ridiculous clowns? Come on, really? You're scared of a fucking clown? That's old news, my friends.
Do you like clowns? The whole point of a clown is to be misleading and mysterious. Playful yet, deranged.
Have you ever been clowned?
Don't worry, I knew a clown once, they are okay people. I'm not "clownist" and this isn't about "clownism" or "clownmunism" and no... I'm not bitter. Yeah sure, some drink. She drank. Notice how everything is past tense? Do I really need to say what happened? Must we bring up these phantom memories from realms sooner less traveled to?
Even the FBI is afraid of clowns. Did you know, the FBI labelled all Insane Clown Posse fans (Juggalos) "gang members"? That's right, maybe you heard it here first, maybe not. ICP took the FBI to court.
What in thee actual fuck, is that all about?
If you wore their brand or had a "hatchet man" tattoo, the police could be all over you. Just for that. That's worse than clownism. It's worse than the big Tony the Tiger style, "Theirrr RRRRRace," ism... Straight up, disgracism.
What about those who do not wear the clothes, with no tattoos, taking their kids to the store to get chips and a scratch and lose? The only thing left, of course. Paranoia. Assume everyone is an undercover "gang member" out to get you. "Arrest that bitch!"
Is that really the only sort of logical thought process these people can achieve? "Be afraid, be very afraid?" Seems like flawed logic to me, with all that training on top of it. At least they can teach their dogs to sit, sometimes...
Even society is peering into this cave of the unknown worry. Watching terrorism on tv, fearing all that be, missing the true controversy... but soon, they'll see.
Commence Epic Coach Speech
Does the fighter win the match by beating up everyone in their opponents corner?! Does the fighter win by fighting all those who cheer for their opponent?!
No! The fighter wins by working with their team, focusing only on their opponent, ignoring everything else, staying in that moment, trying to achieve some means to an end, and why not call it a victory, my friend. The fighter wins when they have nothing but the fight they're in, forget worry. Stay focused, police, stay focused.
It seems, maybe the police should learn how to fight and the fighters should learn how to police. That way. Focused, highly driven, inspired to be motivated individuals patrol the streets fully trained... and the assholes get the beats in front of the seats.
I'd pay to see that.
If my esteemed followers, and readers worldwide ever get treated like that, I'd sue the FBI too, even if they weren't behind it.
Just for something to do.
I'm not sure if I have my facts straight here, but I believe this classification and the FBI's social experiment eventually came to an end on paper and in the courts. Sure, cops might no longer have the "right" to profile this group in that negative light, demand ID claiming a hairstyle, tattoo, makeup or logo on a shirt as probable cause for the encounter... but yet they still do. All over this great continent, police seem to be fighting the crowd. Why? Flawed logic, clearly. Poor leadership. Too much paranoia. Clouded judgement. I think it's safe to say some of these things given the current state.
Fans of a simple art form, labelled a gang. There are more shoes to fill though, so let's take a walk.
An artist puts hours upon years into their work. You have a right to your freedoms, your fans have a right to their freedoms. The command comes along to forcefully remove your work from your fans hand... "What's this? Is that contraband?" Does that not resonate bland? All artists have one thing in common; the lover of their art. The lover of the art comes from all walks of life. Would you allow the police to take that and quite literally put it in a cage? I'd rage.
It's 2016. The war on drugs didn't work. Let's try a war on shirts.
Give that man a raise!
Maybe some of you sell tires. Maybe some cops don't like your brand. Cops pull everyone over who uses your brand, some go to jail. How's business lately? Get it?
How many more times in our lives will we all be forced to witness the powers at be, the big heavy hitters, blame art for all of today's problems?
What the hell does one persons talent and the way others gravitate towards it have to do with the state of things to come?
Those in charge are seemingly the only people who don't understand simple concepts like, "Don't take candy from a baby," "Don't take the bible away from Flanders", "Don't poke the bear." Society is really that simple. Yet they have week long meetings, analysts, number munchers, vacations in between, time to drink, panels, graph charts, pie charts, mom's tarts, farts that don't stink... and they STILL can't figure this shit out.
If you stand for personal freedom of any kind, the ICP vs FBI situation is something you should look up, in your future. Apparently, in September of 2017 Juggalos from all over are getting together to peacefully protest a lot of the shit that's going on this world. It should be a colorful event. I just hope those who attend remember the part about focusing.
Don't take on the army of police. Those people are just placement holders, filler. It's those behind the scenes drinking the fine wine behind the cop vine. The final societal blind. It's their mind, their attention you need to find.
Simply avoid their trap... Wait, hold up someone's at the door.
This Better be the Food
Seriously, FBI, I just get a little prickly when I'm hungry, it doesn't mean anything, don't take it personally, I'm not crazy. I saw it on a commercial once, so I thought it was okay to act like that. Please don't shoot. Thanks.
Your friend, me.
While you wait, everyone can have a look-see at this other thing I made while I was waiting for this lost asshole to get here. I haven't decided what it is supposed to represent though. It just, came to me.
KNOCK KNOCK
Who's there?
I am Haffanower, but I have not been named.
You called me, but you will not see my face. That is, unless, you can keep pace.
For a race to see face at this place you must grace!
Open new tab and enter this lab, ask Groogal: The Knowledge Master, keeper of all keys,
sneaker, of all sleeeeze.
Seek Groogal, if you prease...
Find my name or go insane to once you became the pain, once truth, glorious gain!
In circles we go!
See the lead? Did your eyes bleed?
If not, then you... must leave.
Oh, and by the way,
IF you Choose to stay don't give the word away that is the only pay and now You,
may have, a good day.
OKAY!
Whoa! What the fuck are you supposed to be? What happened to that little dude that always comes? He always brings extra soy sauce. I have like forty in the fridge, no wait, maybe fifty. They always fall out and then the cat plays with them and it ends up everywhere. Actually, on second thought, can you hold the soy sauce today? Yeah, just like that, hold it there. Do the duck face thing, yeah, make it sexy. Mind if I take a photo?
D- d- did you just stutter? Are you sure you're reading that right? $2222.50 for this greazy shit and I didn't even say soy sauce? Dude, this isn't even a receipt...
Follow the path of all things bound, this shit will make your head impound the sound of all things found around the ground browned by devastated pound hound for You, the clowned.
Now if you'll pardon me, I must get back to thee, to hear the rest of me.
My Kanye West CD.
I'm high on Kokanee.
I gotta fuckin pee.
This is my OCD.
Cd'z? I think you should go for a walk, man.
There's something odd on the back of that fucktard's receipt: ....
but,
That's about all the time we have for today.Will our hero finish his cold, soy sauce less food and crash out for the night... or will he get to the bottom of this fucked up receipt? Will the FBI smash through the windows? Who the hell was that guy? How the hell did this article turn into this? What the hell just happened? Am I a narrator?
Stay tuned.
Act 2: Bring Me My Soy Sauce
Hi again.
KNOCK KNOCK
Who's there?
Haffanower... who?
That's not how you tell this joke...
Listen "Haffanower," this doesn't make sense.
I'm not opening this door.
If I don't?
Does your boss know you're drunk as fuck on the job? If you're talking about the picture... here's the deal. I know I said "no soy sauce," but I changed my mind. You bring me what's mine... you'll get what's yours.
That's not my problem, is it... wait. Did you say piece keeper? Are you sure you're only drunk? This is starting to sound like meth symptoms to me. I'll be waiting.
What does that even mean? Hey! Are you there?
Will our hero
Stay Tuned.
Act 3: Forgot About the One's in the Fridge
I,
"Bring soy sauce." It's not a very long list. Any idiot can figure this out. Surely it can't be too hard for the drunk meth'd out variety.
Oh shit, I forgot about the one's in the fridge! Why am I sitting here waiting for this guy, starving my chicken balls off, when what I need, I have?
Join me, will you, as we peer into my fridge...
Whoa ho ho ho! I don't remember that being in there...
I didn't even eat the mushrooms yet. This can't be happening. I need my fucking SOY SAUCE!!
Knock Knock
Who's there?
The Peace Keeper.
The piece keeper... who?
Hey now buddy, I don't know who you are or what your thing is... but that isn't my thing alright? I think you have the wrong place.
Do you have the soy sauce?
~Will our hero,
Stay Tuned
Act 4: The Peace Offer
Last time on...
Haffanower
After our hero
Open The Door!
Alright, chill. Just let me get the chain thing out of the hole thing...
Oh shit! You really are a flamer. Do you have... the sauce?
I am the Peace Keeper. Protected, you can't see me!
I'm pretty sure I can see you, just saying. You stand out like a... like uhhh.
Like an instance of writers block in a Steemit article during a simile.
Hey! Have you heard about this thing they call Steemit? You can write stuff, and get paid. Like right now, all the shit you just said, that could totally earn you money, bro. Then, you can turn around and invest that money back into your words, and then... and then ... and then...
Yeah, I get that look a lot.
I want my Peace, and I want it now.
Your piece? I'm not just going to offer my ass to the first fiery redhead that knocks on my door asking for a piece. I promised myself I would only do that if it was the myth busting chick, nobody else. You sir, are no myth busting chick.
I've accepted the fact that this will never happen and it's been seven months since I last stared out the window, waiting. I've come a long way and I don't see why you had to bring this up.
The piece?
I didn't order any pizza. You were supposed to bring me the soy sauce for my chicken balls. What piece?
Yes, piece.
No! Peece as in Peece's peanut putter pups! Just what the hell are you going on about? That guy you sell meth to, the idiot who was just here. He's starting to be someone I'd like to hang around with someday, compared to you. What do you want? Do you want this stupid picture? Give me my soy sauce and you can have this piece of shit.
Haffanower was telling the truth when he said he was here half an hour ago. Give me the Peace... and what is soy sauce?
If you're talking about this...
The deal, was soy sauce. I think it's a fair offer. Don't make me say two soy sauces.
I shall return in one half hour with Haffanower, soy sauce, and...
And...
that was not a lazy ending, we've simply run out of time for episode four. Follow our hero
Stay tuned.
Act 5: And? And What?
Who in their right mind would end a story with "and"? Well
And...
And? And what? Spit it out.
Myself, Haffanower, me, the soy sauce and a treat for your dog will be here in one half of an hour. You will then give Haffanower his Peace. This is a deal. What is your dog's name?
The dog? His name is Kitty.
No, he's a woof woof. It's a long story. I lived next door to a real douche bag when I got Kitty. His cats would always hop the fence and shit in my yard. While I was busy cleaning it up and throwing the fresh scoops on his roof, he was always laying out in his gitch, drinking. I knew he did laundry on Sundays, but that was about it. You could tell because the shit stain would grow day by day. If I forgot what day it was, his ass was like a calendar. If he was sportin the ones with the holes, you knew the month was almost over. So anyway, when he wasn't drunk and out promoting his ass art, he'd be wide awake at 3:00am yelling, "Here kitty kitty kitty! Here kitty kitty kitty!" That's how I knew it was almost time to wake up and head to work.
One morning I came up with a plan. I brought Kitty home and named him Kitty. It took about two weeks. Asshole would come outside, start calling his cats inside and away from shitting in my yard. Kitty would feel invited and want to go play. He'd run out and help round up the cats and then say hello to the fence for about ten minutes.
Neighbor became annoyed with Kitty around the time the holey gitch made their appearance. He called the cops and I had to go outside in my own gitch early one morning. He tried to tell them my dog was making too much noise and being a general nuisance to the "normally quiet" neighborhood. I told the police this man wakes up in the middle of the night and calls my dog constantly for sometimes up to half an hour. My neighbor told the cops I was a liar and recommended they pepper spray me. I showed the police Kitty's tag. So anyway, to make a long story short. The dispute was then settled, so I went back to sleep.
Are you even listening ?
"The cops are everywhere I must declare. I had to get thee fuck outta there. Went to the store for more liquor. I'll be there waiting, by the door. I think I saw my favorite whore. I might be busy, on the floor. TYT."
TYT? What is TYT?
Tit?
I don't know, man. He just said "tit" and nothing else?
Alright! Damn dude, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down. I just moved here a few months ago. My new neighbors already think I'm on drugs because every morning I'm outside yelling, "Here Kitty Kitty Kitty!" to a fucking dog. Their four year old calls all the other dogs in the neighborhood kitty and all the other kids think he's retarded. These people already give me the look... and now I got some fired up meth cook yelling about tits at the top of his lungs.
Go find your sketched out friend, maybe you'll see a tit if you're early, all will be solved. Come back here, with my soy sauce. Do you not smell that? The smell of my food getting cold... er!
This is the last time I order from you guys!
I'll be writing a hasty uncontrolled review of your establishment on Steemit as well. Those people will definitely upvote, and I'll be internet famous in no time. You're going viral. You hear me! Viral!
This should only take approximately thirty minutes. Protect the Peace.
...Yeah, you keep saying that. Just go. I'll be cleaning my keyboard if you know what I mean.
...and don't forget the soy sauce.
Soy sauce has never been so saucy. Will our rage quit ready hero
Stay Tuned.
Act 6: How Long?
Waiting. Always waiting. It seems like they said the food would be here days ago. Staring out the window, again. I've been here before. How long will this take? I just don't get it.
Oh! Didn't see you there.
It's your favorite,
I've so much to tell you people. Some serious shit has being going down on my end ever since I left to get the door about seven half hours ago, and I just don't get it.
No jokes either. When I say serious, I mean serious. Just like when I say soy sauce, I want soy sauce.
I've decided to keep a running tab of events. When you're dealing with meth heads, it's always best to keep things organized in the event of unforeseen circumstances that may lead to trouble down the road.
This will be a huge success here, I just know it. Here are my projections.
My First Chart
| Haffanower | Votes | Bling Level |
|---|---|---|
| Episode 1 | 44 | $29.28 |
| Episode 2 | 61 | $0.61 |
| Episode 3 | 12 | $0.27 |
| Episode 4 | 37 | $27.34 |
| Episode 5 | 57 | $0.65 |
| Episode 6 *WIP |
So as you can see, I'm betting the farm on this one. I'm certain I can easily achieve these goals, but I know I'll be silently hoping it does better. I'm even willing to go as far as guaranteeing two or three of the first few episodes will be mentioned on a certain guilds list of honorable mentions. If that were to happen, I might even feel good about my skills. Nothing wrong with setting the bar high.
I have no idea how many updates it will take to be able to explain the entire story. Events are about to take place as I write this. I hope I have time. I'm certain it'll be finished in under six months.
So that's all I really have for n...
Knock Knock
Who's there? Is it Meth one and Meth two? Did Meth two find out what tits are? Oh shit! Maybe it's the FBI? Did
Stay Tuned
Act 7: Who's There?
Last time on Haffanower:
Knock Knock
It's about damn time, that's who's there. These jokers better have my soy sauce...
Oh, hello? I was expecting someone else...
Assume the position mother fucker!
Position? What position, man? If you're here trying to drum up support for something political... I'm not interested. If this is about who's god is the god, just leave your pamphlet in the mailbox labelled "Advertisements" and I'll bring it in once the box is overflowing, but before things fall out and blow all over the yard. My landlord said I'd be evicted if you people keep leaving a mess.
You have something of mine, you little shit, and I'm here for it. You will turn around and place your hands behind your head.
The FBI! Perfect, yup, this is great. Listen buddy, soy sauce isn't illegal and I have not published the article which briefly mentions what I'd consider your misguided, irrational, half baked classification of Juggalos and what that could mean to other artists worldwide. If you're here to simply pick up the bug you planted in my laptop, it's right over there by the encyclopedias from 1987, near the plant.
You are known to us, "TOWFA".
Towfah? Wrong place... I am
The One Who Fucks Around. I know it is you. We've known of you since before you were born. Don't make this any harder on yourself. I have guns, chemical weapons, sticks, a gang, connections and these zip ties...
... which all must wear to control and monitor blood flow to our superior brains. They look nice as well. Don't I look sharp today? Now, please, just do as I say.
How can I resist a dictator with manners? Just check your roidrage at the door and come on in.
Holy horses ass, my friends. It looks like
No! I'm just a narrator with a quota...
Ow, Don't Be So Rough!
Dammit! Dude, my arm doesn't bend like that. My pockets are empty, I could have told you this, had you simply asked!
Why the hell are you arresting me man! This is fucked up! I think you broke my nose, asshole, you didn't need to throw me down like that. That better be your flashlight pressed up against my ass!
It's mine, now hand it over before I rub hash oil all over your nuts and throw you in with the dogs!
The ticket to my soy sauce?
Why in the hell is everyone trying to fuck with my SOY SAUCE!
This piece you speak of, this useless piece of shit picture which was supposed to mean my freedom from hunger pains... it's right over there, sitting on my computer. You looked right at it a few minutes ago! You just felt like beating someone up tonight. Is that what this is really about?
This is the new banned substance on the block. This is our ticket to freedom, our control! The final Peace is upon us! Wait until they hear about this at the FB Eye's main socket!
I hope these are just hunger hallucinations. I've not seen anyone normal in what seems like days...
You're not even going to stay for a coffee? Just mess my face up, steal my stuff, and leave...
This is bullshit. Total... bullshit ...and those sketched out meth heads are probably on their way with my soy sauce as I lay here in my own puddle of piss, talking to myself. I'm so hungry. I'm so done with this day.
I think I'll just close my eyes...
When I started this job, I signed a contract stating I'd remain emotionally disconnected from any and all events before, during and after signing. This narrator will not let the boss down. Will
Stay tuned.
Act 8: Dreamland Interrupted
Last time on Haffanower:
Damn! That's why they pay me the big bucks mother fuc.... Huh? The mic is still on? ...fuck
Is it off now? Yeah? ... so where was I? Oh yeah!
So there she was right, naked and I mean tits naked everywhere naked and tits. I'm laying there, she takes this flying fucking leap like some kind of freak gymnasty... Mid-air, and I shit you not, she FARTS! So now I'm thinking what the fuck! This chick has rocket tits!
Huh? It's still on?
"Alice? Who the fuck is Alice!"
Writer, shakedown, lost, piss, pool, starving... and his eyes... began... ...to close.
Dreamland
Wake up!
Mom!
Oh. How long have you guys been here? You're both looking a little fucked up. Let me guess, meth?
This is only LSD. It appears you've had a little, mystery?
I have no clue what you're talking about. How is all this a mystery!
I just don't get it.
The FBI came...
You wouldn't happen, to have a beer?
Yeah there's one in the fridge. Wait! No! Don't open it. There's something going on in there right now, just give it some time.
I thought it was you guys so I opened the door and the mother fucker rushed me. I thought I was going in for questioning. Instead he gave me the pat down, touched my nuts a few times for good measure, and then left.
It wasn't just some random street perv wanting a piece, was it?
Yeah, very funny man. He looked a little strange but he did show me some ID. Some form of representation on his tie. I think it was supposed to be significant, but I'm just not sure.
Yes.
At least you didn't die. May I have some of this π?
Pie, I don't have any pie. Step away from the fridge dude, I'm serious. It's worse than the FBI in there.
Come here boy! I got you something scrumptious! Her name, is Dog.
You brought my dog, a cat? Scrumptious? PK... you mind if I call you PK? You can't just feed my dog a cat. Who the hell says they're bringing a treat for a dog and arrives with a fucking cat!
Where did you find this little girl?
Haffanower was busy with his lady friend, I went for a walk and nearly pissed on her.
Well, thanks. I'm sure Dog, Kitty and my other cat will get along just fine. Nobody is eating anybody though, got it?
That... is a long story.
I was on my electronic computation device. I saw an ad on Steemit dot com promoting the latest advances in dog accessories. I was hooked so I followed this user. Kitty even enjoyed some of the cat videos this user later shared. Eventually, I could not get any work done because Kitty would keep giving me the "show me the cat videos, dad" look. I started to brainstorm.
After a brief few moments, I began searching for a cat that needed a home. I did not have to go far in my search. I answered a plea for help I found on social media. Within minutes I was greeted with a very warm, heartfelt response and was given an address. Kitty and I hopped in the car and went to retrieve his new friend.
I recognized the neighborhood, I used to live in the area. For some reason, I could not find the address. It was on my old street and I assumed very close to my old place because the numbers nearly matched. I drove around the block several times. One lady started yelling at me and giving me the finger, so I thought maybe she could help. I pulled over, rolled down my window... she spit on me. She started calling me a stocker but it's been a very long time since I worked in the grocery store and I don't remember her being a customer there. She made me feel a bit uneasy, I thought there might be something wrong with her. I slowly drove away.
Thinking and thinking later, I decided to just go to my old neighbors house. I rang the door bell but it didn't work so I knocked. He came to the door. It was Saturday. He wasn't impressed, I wasn't impressed.
He said he quit drinking and agreed to help. It turns out, the address was actually the basement dwelling below his house! What are the odds, right! So all I have to do is, "Go ring his bell." He had a satisfied look on his face, I probably did too but I did not bring a mirror. We said our goodbyes one last time and I proceeded down to the basement.
I was greeted by a man wearing only his pantie hose. He appeared to be getting ready for something extravagant. I was welcomed inside and got my first look at my new friend. Kitty was busy saying hello to the fence outside. Most likely bringing back fond memories. The man poured me a cup of tea and asked me to sit down. He told me everything about the cat. Name, qualifications and experience. He then went on to tell me in great detail stories of his late grandmother. I was then handed a photo album.
Three cups of tea and an entire woman's history later, I was told it was about time I get going. I was given the keys to the cat and a few bags of his favorite food. We said farewell a few different ways as I watched him have a nervous breakdown. He collapsed while holding a picture of his grandmother and ruined his pantie hose. I thought it was a good time to leave.
We all packed up and headed home.
Printheth.
Yeah. I thought so too.
That's about all the time we have for episode eight point zero. This is a two part episode. Part two will begin shortly. There might even be a Halloween reference! Isn't that exciting! Holy shit! Wow, is this creeper! What's going on! What the hell did you guys put in this shit!
I narrate, you narrate, we all urinate. Fuck that sounded cool!
Stay tuned.
Act 9: Dreamland Interrupted Part Duex
Last time on Haffanower:
There! I said it! Are you assholes happy now? It's still on? Well how the hell does this thing work! On, off, on, off, on, off... did you buy this at the dollar store! "That's not the switch," what do you mean, "That's not the switch?"
Haffanower! I'm warning you!
Seriously pal, there's nothing of interest inside that refrigerator.
I might piss on your rug and spoil it more than your instance from before. Is this the door? Answer me, hurry, it's nearing the floor! It's peeking, I'm leaking! Can't hold it no more!
Yes! Go, and don't forget to flush...
So anyway, PK, listen. I have more bad news.
We were not successful in retrieving your soy sauce. I walked into the store. I looked everywhere. Haffanower was stumbling around, knocking things over, mumbling like a former rapper now on crack. The clerk kicked him out and started yelling at me as well. Something about "Low-life scum" and a few words which seemed like swears, but in a language I do not understand. I tried to reason with him. I said, "You look like a person who knows where I could find some soy sauce." You'd think someone in retail would know this stuff.He got really angry with me, I think maybe things aren't well at home. He started calling me a "racist" over and over with a few f-words, cunts and cock suckers mixed in. I was removed from the premises at broom point. I'm so sorry about all this.
Why would they be so angry about soy sauce? I'm the one who has a fucking reason to be angry about soy sauce! I should be screaming my head off! I'm not though, I'm going to stay... calm!
That FBI agent took my ticket to that soy sauce anyway. That's my bad news. That's why I pissed myself.
I didn't give anybody anything! That mother fucker was going to fuck me up the ass if I didn't hook him up. My ass is exit only, so I used this knowledge to my benefit. He exited, with the piece.
I pushed my piss out, with all of my might when I heard the fright of your sudden plight. The FB Eye blight, is he out of sight?
We must get it back! We're using you're car, TOWFA.
Towfah? He called me that too. Does it have some sort of profound meaning? Is it some sort of hidden message? Who are you people?
Let's go, I call shotgun!
Remember our last line? You said it could be mine!
We need you in the back, behind the tinted windows.
Well, I guess this is all worth it. I needed to go out and find soy sauce anyway, since you dumb fucks can't seem to get it right. Just let me lock things up, because that will certainly prevent the FBI from entering again.
Haffanower, be very careful, I have some important things on the back seat. Please just move it over gently before you sit.
Did I just hear something splitting?
Do you always have to speak like that?
Yeah? Like what?
I can only guess...
This narrator is falling off his seat! Could someone please fix this chair? We're on? I know I pressed the button! Oh, hi there friends! It looks like the gentlemen have a few tough decisions to make. There are cops everywhere, Haffanower smells like weed, liquor and piss. PK is looking focused and wants to go! Nobody knows which way this agent of doom went.
Which way will the idiots in the car go and what possibly be in store for them when they get there?
Stay tuned.
Act 10: I'm Going Right
Last time on Haffanower: ...fucking her right up the ass and then she farted! The look on her face was... we're on?
Welcome back! Last time
Just Go Left
Are you sure, man? There's some gnarly shit in that neighborhood. Do you really think someone with such a nice tie would head that way?
He's probably looking to score before he heads home. They don't have to pay for drugs, you know. This is my educated guess. Go left!
Well, if you say so. I guess that makes sense. I better use my turn signal with Haffanower in the back. The last things we need are lights, sirens and the smell of breakfast behind us.
TOWFA!
What! I'm trying to drive! Leave me alone!
Oh, right. Thanks man.
My name isn't Towfah though.
How about hippopotamus! Clitoris? Are you serious! Mind your business. Your autonomous bitching, increasingly monotonous. Disastrous itching upon my nut epidermis. Watch out for the bus!
Haffanower! Watch your fucking mouth! Are you buckled up? How about I slam these brakes and send you through the windshield, you little fucktard. I can't fucking drive with some washed up early 90's white middle aged rapper wannabe in my back fucking seat! Fuck!
If it is, this is a nice Mazda. What does this button do?
Haffanower! Look! The vents are oscillating!
Now I'm cold, now I'm warm. Now I'm cold, now I'm warm. This is an amazing piece of technology you have here TOWFA.
Don't push my buttons, PK. Okay? I had that set.
Yes, this is a Mazda. A 1985 Mazda 626. I've had this car since I was young. We've been through everything together. I'd like to be able to afford a new one some day. Unfortunately, all I do is blog away for pennies. Because of you guys, I won't be able to fill my quota today. I'm only allowed four superb quality articles per day.
I had this great idea! I was going to post a picture of a sheep and make it say... get this...
My penis? Nobody will want to hear stories about that sort of thing, trust me. I think I know what I'm doing okay. Leave it up to the professionals.
A professional?
Big purple crackhead! Move! I can't stop!
There's purple fucking crackhead all over my windshield!
Are you guys okay! Holy fucking shit! We're screwed now!
Who in thee actual fuck runs out onto the street like that!
Barnes. The happy porn star who fucked on farms.
"I fuck you, you fuck me. We're a happy family."
"With a big purple cock and give the horse my bone..."
Shut up! I don't want to hear the ending! We have to scrape this mother fucker up off my car and figure this shit out. Do you guys think anyone saw this?
Cops won't listen to them. Come on, let's clean this up and get the hell out of here.
Damn! This is gross. What the hell was this guy made of!
Haffanower! SHUT THE FUCK UP!
GO! Go! Go! Drive!
All I wanted was a bit of SOY SAUCE!!
Fuuuuh uhhh uhhhh UCK!
I don't think I'm qualified to be a narrator anymore. I'm speechless. I thought about it. I'm going to remain speechless. You know what to do. I don't need to say a damn thing.
Stay Tuned.
Act 11: Weee-oooo Weee-oooo Weee-oooo
Last time on Haffanower: I thought I told you fuckers to stop putting sugar in my coffee! It's one less step! I'm helping you! I'm not doing a damn thing until someone brings me my coffee, MY way! Hurry! These assholes are waiting for me to start being the best narrator in the history of narration narratives. I'm taking out the earpiece. On strike!
Welcome back everyone. The greatest, happiest, family friendly Haffanower, PK and our hero
, The Writer Himself messed up last time. Nothing new. Watching these assholes fuck up is becoming mainstream if you know what I mean. Big hairy purple crackhead is still smeared all over the car while they push it to the limits. Let's find out why and what's next, shall we!
Are we off? Good. I hate this fucking job. I sure like Nancy's hot coffee though! Mmmm Mmmmmm! Damn that's some fine ass coffee.
Blarg! This is piss! You assholes!
Are They Behind Us!
Haffanower! Help me out here! Be my mirrors now that I don't have any!
I'm having flashbacks. Hemophiliacs nightmare! Turn on Tupac's last lyrical smacks! It helps me relax!
Answer the question! Help me out here, talk me through this. I don't know what to do! Should I speed?
Take a left up there, by the tree, near the car, when you get past the hill, you know the place.
Wow! Those are some clear directions, PK. Should I watch for the lawn and say hi to the guy too?
At least you didn't hurt your head when we wrecked. I know where to go though. We can clean this car up and maybe get some shiny tape to reattach the mirrors. Just be careful this time. You never know when the next crackhead will jump out.
They should put reflectors on these fucking people. Look, there's another one! What the hell is she doing?
My red clover! Pull over! I'll give you left over!
Is this a hostile take over, Haffanower? There's no room.
You guys are fucked in the head. Do you think she has any soy sauce? Haffanower, how long will this take? I just don't get it.
Watch for cops, if I see headlights, I'm thee fuck out of here and I don't care if I run over another one.
Hi boyth! Looking for a good time?
Haffanower! Ith that you! You thexthy little man you! I thought I'd never thee you again! Give me a kith!
What... the fuck?
How do you not know? His cock is... out.
Hop in and let's begin! I got a few bucks, if I can put it on your chin?
You're tho romantic! Let'th go!
Really! Haffanower, you're supposed to be my look out man. PK, he's fired. You're hired. Where do I turn?
I hope you know where you're going. I don't. I usually drive around Cracksville. There's a lot of nice cars around here though. Look at that one! Wow! They must be just visiting or something. Probably have family here.
Don't blink? Are you sure that's normal? Fuck, he's going to notice the car. We're getting pulled over, man, I can see my future. That's it, I'm done. I'm going to jail. I'm going to jail. I'm going to jail. There's no soy sauce in jail.
There's no soy sauce in jail!
Listen. They pissed in a cup and gave it to me to drink. You fuckers will be lucky to see me next time. I'm sick of this shit. Nobody knows how to be professional around here. I'll fucking say it again, but this might be the last time!
Stay Tuned.
Act 12: All Lit Up
On Haffanower...
Oh, hello, I didn't see you there. My name is Milford Sass. I normally empty the trash cans. I'll be filling in while the usual narrator is on stress leave. Apparently someone pissed in his coffee last time. He's been calling in sick ever since.
I was forced to drink piss once, I too became stressed out after so I can relate. We all hope you get better soon!
Anyway, the show must go on. During the last episode, our heroes took a fast turn straight into the gaze of our local law enforcement. Their car is in terrible shape after an unfortunate incident and I have a strong feeling they're about to be lit up. Frozen in fear is where we find them. Let's see what happens next, shall we!
Act Normal!
Did you thay polithe!
Shut up back there! Be quiet, no sudden movements. I'll just drive normal. See. He won't even notice, he's looking the other way.
Yeah that's a good idea, we have to get the hell out of here. I can't handle this. I need to tell you guys something, it's kind of important.
Cry? What the hell makes you think I'd want to cry!
I just assumed you were... emotional.
Ith okay to cry!
Thorry thweety!
I don't have to cry! What the fuck is wrong with you guys! Damn!
I was just thinking it's a good time to mention something you all should probably know.
Dammit, PK! I'm not gay! I'm high as fuck on MUSHROOMS!!
Fuck, I think the cop heard!
Shit! He's staring us down. Act normal!
Fuck! I think he's coming!
We're screwed!
Hi again! It's me, Milford Sass. I don't really know what to say, they didn't give me any lines. Probably something like, "to be continued?" Was that good? Huh? Put the earpiece in? Oh okay! This thing is cool! Do I get a raise?
Then, I stopped.
There weren't any more episodes after, though I had planned to keep going.
I was the only one to leave a comment under that final episode:
Friendly heads-up. The images alone took quite a few hours to produce. The next episode will have more text and new art of course. It's hard to find a good balance for this series and I usually base the efforts upon how well the previous episode did. I've been getting skunked lately, hopefully this one does better. I may be forced to scrap the project if this and the next few do poorly. Please leave a comment if you're still interested in the Haffanower series. Let me know if I've done something wrong or right.
P.S. Today's episode got a new cover!
Though that final episode was sitting at 434 views (the entire series was slowly circulating outside of Steemit and I could tell because we used to have a view counter), nobody expressed an interest in the project at the time. Yeah, that silence was a tough pill to swallow but I kept on blogging and entertaining, without Haffanower.
I came to the conclusion that it was only logical to stop and scrap the project. Introducing a new episode while so much of the context was dependent on previous episodes would have only left a new reader feeling baffled. I felt, since it seemed nobody was interested, there probably wasn't much of a chance people would actually go to the beginning and start from the first episode each time someone new found themselves lost within the chaos that was Haffanower.
I was still a minnow/red fish/NOOB back when I started Haffanower. The silence was enough for me to the make the right call. I looked around the place and quickly realized I was the only member attempting something as creative as that at the time. I felt out of place, unwanted, even devastated for a brief moment but I did not give up entirely.
I guess, the moral of the story here today is this:
If you want to be successful, be prepared to put that much effort into your failures.
And I'm reposting this again today because I'm still seeing many give up completely, before they even give themselves a chance to fail, then learn, and get better.
Have a nice day.
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