His body was alright, not really what I expected. Regardless, I own a human man now. That shady vendor wasn't lying when they said shipping was discreet. It's kind of fucked up. I brought him inside. He slipped and broke his taint. He almost hit his soft spot off the coffee table. I didn't realize adults could still have soft spots. He crumpled to the floor and quietly sobbed into his fanny pack. I told him that he was killing the vibe, but he didn't seem to care. All he could manage to do was swipe right on Tinder.
He updated his bio:
"Albatross females are graceful and sublime (unlike human females). They don't put out for years, and make you do the same thing over and over until it's perfect. That's a woman worth waiting for. She'll even throw up in your mouth if you're worth it. So, what's for dinner?"
He was distracted, so I tried to get his attention by setting him on fire. I have pyrokinesis like that chick in the Stephen King book. If I had that much coke on me, I could have written the Dark Tower. Anyway, setting him on fire did not help the situation. He tried to run but he slipped on a snail. I have an infestation. I walked towards him slowly, avoiding snails. I pulled out my Nokia phone. Without breaking eye contact, I tweeted something. The meme ghouls on Instagram immediately screen captured my tweets and shared them, uncropped and without credit.
His face was salty with fear. His lips were cold. I told him why he was here:
"to rant and rave".
I told him where he could sit. I motioned to the computer desk. It was littered with empty blister packs of Benadryl and glazed with the sticky crust of Hi-C and cigarette ash. That's not who I am today, though. I vape now.
He didn't understand what I told him to do. I told him again:
"Rant and rave."
He furrowed his eyebrows. I told him again:
"Rant and rave."
He had this incredulous look on his face. I asked him if he knew what ranting and raving meant. He flinched. I hit the vape and throat-ghosted a fat rip. I vomited and lit him a cigarette.
"You'll figure it out. You just need positive reinforcement."
I took a picture of him and posted it to /r/RoastMe. Thousands of redditors descended upon the thread, emphasizing how they collectively would not have sex with him. He cried again. I poured him a tall glass of Hi-C. He would be posting on Craigslist in no time.
(two days later)
I blacked out. I have no memory of what happened after I put on all the drug store makeup and cried. There was a suspicious amount of blood pooling out from under the door in the hallway. That was the room where I slaughter the men I buy off the Deep Web and force to post on the Rants and Raves section of Craigslist. I was a little concerned. I looked in the mirror nearby and realized something was wrong. Someone had beheaded this man and put his head on my head. Maybe so I could wear his head as a mask while I Rant and Rave. I went over to the computer. I tripped on a pile of human flesh (not sure where that came from) and spilled the untouched glass of Hi-C all over the keyboard. I lit a cigarette and sat down. I had a mystery to solve. I called it:
"The Mystery of Who Beheaded the Guy I Bought on the Deep Web and Put His Head on my Head so I Could Wear His Head as a Mask."
I looked through Craigslist. Maybe I'd find a clue within Rants and Raves.