I’m going to put together a new book that will win many awards. It will be about dysfunction and how one magical asshole who is smarter than everything… even the sun, overcame it all and wrote an award winning book about it.
The magical asshole/main character will be hated by the reader at first because they’re obviously a worthless shell of a human being. But the reader will then slowly grow to like the magical asshole because the author will reveal to the reader just how venerable and afraid the magical asshole really is underneath all the sarcasm and faux intelligence. The Magic Asshole will confess all their shallowness and flaws in humiliating funny stories and the reader will realize that “Wow! This person is just like me cuz I’m brilliant too! but I’m also deliciously bad/flawed rotten/special - and just when the reader begins to truly care for the magical asshole like an old friend, the magical asshole will be revealed to be nothing more than a puppet run by sexy, sexy, vampire kittens. Kittens who are just different aspects of ourselves all trying to find love, broken bits trying to find something called a home, much like our own friends/family and maybe even society at large. Then there will be heart touching vignettes of redemption, love and finding a home… seductive notions and all, but you the reader will feel that there are too many pages left in the book so you know that the kittens are all terminally ill and will soon die… except that its all a metaphor for the magical asshole! who wasn’t a bunch of kitten - AHA! its a story about death and rebirth. Thankfully the kittens are all fine because they never existed.
But then it turns out that the actual author is a poor and lonely TV repairman who wrote the entire novel by blacking out old TV repair manuals. The novel was his suicide/love letter to the world because his only friend in the world, Maynard the cat, was poisoned because the author could only afford the cheapest cat food from China. So the cat died because the author was a failure and a cheapskate.
The book will be called “Eat Shit and Die.” (A love story in 9 courses) I will spin it off into a million different things - cookbooks - bibles - sex toys - I’m gonna be sooo rich and famous that I’ll even dig up Elvis and tattoo my face on whatever skin he has left and make an oven mitt out of it. I’ll then use the mitt to serve peach cobbler to my broken heart on Christmas eve in our mansion. Watching Christmas cartoons all alone… it’ll be sooo sad that the poignancy will shatter the illusion of reality and I will be revealed to be the boundless dreaming god who then wakes up and realizes he’s the Dunkin’ Donuts guy.
