Ocdave.msg

{100}{}{You see a sad, older man.} {101}{}{You see Dave, "Mr. Depression."} {102}{}{You see a grumpy, older man in his early sixties. He has a weathered face and looks as if he has had his fair share of abuse.} {103}{}{Oh. I didn't see you standing there.} {104}{}{How not see? Me big.} {105}{}{Look sad. Why?} {106}{}{Me go bye bye.} {107}{}{That's ok, we all space out at times. Say, you look rather down. May I ask why?} {108}{}{Yeah, whatever. Why are you so down?} {109}{}{Should I hit you with a board to get your attention next time?} {110}{}{Whatever. I just remembered some place I've got to be.} {111}{}{Hey, shit happens -- and when it does, it happens to me.} {112}{}{Uh... me be leaving now.} {113}{}{Like what?} {114}{}{Nice attitude. What caused it?} {115}{}{I can tell I want to be elsewhere.} {116}{}{I was born two months premature. When I was one, I was dropped on the porch. When I was two, I had pneumonia. When I was three, I got the chicken pox. When I was four, I fell down the stairs and broke six ribs. When I was five, my uncle was decapitated by a watermelon. When I was six, my parents hit me in the head with a shovel. When I was seven, I lost my right index finger to my pet rat.} {117}{}{Uh, me hear someone call. Bye!} {118}{}{Sorry things bad.} {119}{}{Past bad, no talk. Things good now?} {120}{}{Wow! I'm sure glad that I'm not you!} {121}{}{Ok, I get the picture. What's currently bothering you?} {122}{}{I'm truly sorry that you've had so much pain in your life. Hopefully things have gotten better?} {123}{}{Wait a minute. I forgot I have something else to do right now.} {124}{}{Yeah, well, shit happens -- and when it does, it happens to me.} {125}{}{What happen now?} {126}{}{Me hear before. Bye.} {127}{}{So what's going on now to upset you so much?} {128}{}{I really don't want to hear this. I think I'll be leaving.} {129}{}{Well, there I was, traveling through the desert, when suddenly my brahmin falls over dead. About then I realized I was low on water and hadn't had a drink in quite a while. Later, my bones began to ache, my head started to hurt, my bowels became loose, and I got this rash that just wouldn't go away. It was time to sit down and die.} {130}{}{Me... uh... you... You no have wife or child?} {131}{}{You no talk no more. Me go.} {132}{}{I don't want to hear anymore. I've got to get out of here and away from you. Bye.} {133}{}{Please tell me that you don't have any children.} {134}{}{Nope. When I turned twenty-two this strange fungus started to grow on my test...} {135}{}{Arrg! You talk no more! Me go!} {136}{}{Stop! I don't want to know!} {137}{}{Oh. Hi. What can I do for you?} {138}{}{Uh, what you story again?} {139}{}{Sorry, me go.} {140}{}{I was wondering if I could hear your tale once again?} {141}{}{Wait a minute, I thought you were someone else.} {142}{}{At last, my time has come. Are you going to kill me now?} {143}{}{Yes.} {144}{}{No.} {145}{}{When I was eight, my dog Spike got hit by a tractor. When I was nine, my mother lost her arm to a rabid brahmin. When I was ten, my sister was torn to bits by a pack of dogs. When I was eleven, my grandfather killed himself because I was ugly. When I was twelve, my grandmother killed herself because I was ugly. When I was thirteen, my father poked out his eyes with a pitchfork in a drunken stupor.} {146}{}{When I was fourteen, my brother lost his hand to a wallaby. When I was fifteen, my aunt choked to death on a chicken bone. When I was sixteen, I lost my cousin to a badger. When I was seventeen, I cut off my left big toe with a hoe. When I was eighteen, my father lost his right leg to the same tractor that killed my dog. When I was nineteen... } {147}{}{Well, there I was sitting in the desert, waiting for the world to swallow my miserable existence, when a pack of deathclaws shows up. Well, I'm thinking to myself, this is it. Now I can die. I can wind up as a pile of deathclaw shit in the middle of the desert. But no... fate had yet another cruel card to play against me.} {148}{}{You see, the deathclaws didn't kill me. Instead they gave me water, brought me here, gave me this room, gave me food, cleaned me up, and now they won't let me leave. I know they're fattening me up for some unknown, horrible fate. I keep telling them that I would probably taste better if I was leaner, but it does no good. They just smile -- if you can call it that -- and pat me on the head and say 'Don't worry, human, things will get better.' Ha! We both know what that means.} {149}{}{Anyway, to make matters worse, then they started giving me some sort of medication. It was making me gassy, so I stopped taking it -- and it's a good thing I did. I think it was some sort of 'mind control' pill, because I started to feel like things weren't actually as bad as I thought! Anyway, that's about it. I'm just waiting for the dinner bell to chime, so that they can feast on my bloated body.}