The Aftermath

Posted: June 5, 2010 by kaostheory in Inferno
Tags:

Sigh. Let’s try this yet again. Test. Test. 1-2-3. 1-2-3. Is this…wait a minute. Test. Test! Holy mother of crap! Ed! ED!

(What? WHAT? You see how annoying that is? – ed.)

Ed. We’re back on.

(We’re WHAT? – ed.)

We’re back on. Look. People can see us again.

(Oh. Oh shit. Oh holy shit. What do we do now? – ed.)

I…I guess that we just give the people some updates about how things have fallen right now. It’s been a while.

(I suppose. Good thinking, Intern Eduardo! – ed.)

I’ve told you before, Ed. It’s Craig. Just Craig.

(Whatever. Go get me a latte while I bring the good readers up to speed. Nonfat. Extra foam. And you’ll lose digits if you put cinnamon in it again.- ed.)

Fair enough.

(Okay. Whew. Okay. Let’s see. Hi! So, it’s been some time, huh? I suppose that you’re curious about what happened to KaosTheory now. It figures. Nobody would possibly be interested in ME. Not like I’ve been slaving away here at work eighteen hours a day trying to do damage control and explain away why our most popular writer suddenly dropped off the face of the earth. Not like I’ve had to reassure our stockholders that they are still making a solid investment even though Dan Eats Cat Food was moving towards being a serial website instead of diversified. Not like I’ve had to go through a nasty divorce with my bitch of an ex-wife who tried to suck the very marrow from my bones, the harpy. No. You’re all worried about KT! ‘What happened to KT?’ ‘Is KT going to be okay?’ ‘Is KT really dead?’ ‘When is KT coming back?’ What do you want from me, you jackals? – ed.)

Ed. Chill pill.

(Fine. If you want to know what happened to KT, read on. We’ve included a transcript of an audio tape that was given to us by the United States Government. It is technically supposed to be classified, but what the hell. Some parts may be scrambled but that’s not our fault. – ed.)
———
Transcript of Recording 188561
USS St. Vinny
Adm. D. Carrington, CO
Location classified off the coast of Nicaragua

Pvt. J.T. Kirk: Sir? Sir, are you alive?

Unidentified man: Mrmagk. Balghlakng. Murrr. HGlagh.

Kirk: Sir! Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to wake up. We need to speak with you.

U.M.: *sound of puking*

Kirk: Oh wonderful. Control? This is Private Kirk. We have reached the unidentified vessel and contacted the…captain is not a correct term. We’ll describe him as more of an ‘inhabitant’. He is currently vomiting over the side of the vessel.

U.M.: You can’t prove I did it!

Kirk: The man is now awake, if not entirely coherent. Sir. Sir, can you identify yourself please?

U.M.: You first!

Kirk Private J.T. Kirk, United States Coast Guard. And you, sir?

U.M. I’m…I guess I’m [REDACTED] (We will identify him as KT from here on out. – ed)

Kirk: Would you mind telling us what you’re doing out here, sir?

KT: I…would like to know myself.

Kirk: You don’t know why you are here? In this boat? Off the coast of Nicaragua?

KT: I’m outside Nicaragua?!

Kirk: Yes sir.

KT: How the hell did I get here?

Kirk: We would like to know that as well, sir.

KT: Well, I did have a lot to drink.

Kirk: What day was that, sir?

KT: Oh that had to have been the…fourth? Fifth?

Kirk: Oh so just last night then?

KT: Apparently so. I have to say that Nicaragua is really nice in May. Nicer than I thought.

Kirk: May, sir? No, this is June.

KT: June?! What the hell happened to MAY?!

Kirk: Sir?

KT: Holy shit. I guess that Cousin Jefe’s moonshine was a little stronger than I expected. A month? Damn.

Kirk: Do you remember anything about the month, sir?

KT: I…I went through Hell. Literally Hell.

Kirk: Could you explain in more detail?

(What follows is about three and a half hours worth of recapping everything that he experienced while in what he believed to be Hell – there is no need for all of you readers to go through all that again – ed.)

Kirk: Well, sir, that is quite a story, although it seems like you stopped caring about two-thirds of the way through telling it.

KT: I’m suffering the built-up hangover of an accumulated month of drunkenness. I believe I am allowed a little bit of leeway here.

Kirk: Well, yes, but that doesn’t quite explain how you ended up floating in a skiff off the coast of Nicaragua.

KT: Hey, if I could explain, I would.

Kirk: Would you come with us, please, sir? We’d like to attempt drunken recall if possible.

KT: With all due respect, private, even a beer – no, even a bitch beer – will realistically send me into paroxysms of vomiting and I’m not really sure there is anything left in there but stomach acid. I don’t quite feel like burning my esophagus with stomach cum.

Kirk: Sir?

KT: What?

Kirk: Are you okay?

KT: Yes?

Kirk: I’m not sure that required a question, sir.

KT: Look, I’m going to be honest. I am still, like, seventeen kinds of drunk. I mean, you are basically a giant talking purple taco dressed in a uniform over there.

Kirk: I see. I would still like you to come with us. For your safety.

KT: I can buy that. I believe I will require some bread.

Kirk: That be arr….sir?

KT: Yes?

Kirk: Is that a tramp stamp?
———
(The audio recording cuts off at that point. We aren’t sure as to what happened during transit but all we know is that KT came back wearing a cast on his left wrist, a black eye and a very pronounced limp. Like we said, we don’t know what happened but we’re reasonably sure he deserved it. – ed.)

I…I punched a Coast Guard doctor.

(He punched a Coast Guard doctor. Perfect. Great. Class act. – ed.)

Fuck you.

(Glad to have you back, buddy. – ed.)

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