EvilTwin Powers: Activate!
Yesterday was EvilTwin Day. Everyone stayed home and sent their EvilTwins out in their stead. That shit was all fucked up. The mail man's EvilTwin was all like, “here's your fucking mail, Hamilton House Apartments!” as he dumped the mail for the entire building into the big puddle in the parking lot.
Some fuckers' EvilTwins sent their EvilTwins, so instead of having to deal with (already evil) Information Desk Lady at the DMV, I had to deal with her Ultra-EvilTriplet. Actually, I didn't have to deal with her, because I had my Ultra-EvilTriplet out doing my bidding. And since I am so bad-ass in the first place, my Triplet is Super-Duper-Ultra-Evil. In fact he's the SuperVillian known as The Solipsist, whose mutant ability is to convince himself with infinite sincerity that the entirety of creation exists only in his perceptions.
The Solipsist: I have just retracted all of reality into my mind and taken you with it. Being a mere figment, you are now entirely at my mercy.
DMV Info Desk Lady's Ultra-EvilTriplet: Noooooooo!
Since The Solipsist was out doing chores for us, my EvilTwin and I went out for a stroll. We ended up spending a mostly pleasant but ultimately poopy afternoon in ChinaTown. A trinket shop caught our eye(s) and we ducked in. Most of the stuff crowded into this tiny place was a bunch of dust-covered crap, but a box of Chinese Finger Traps near the entrance seemed to really stand out. They were red, white, and blue and on prominent display, I guess, to signal the shop owners' patriotism.
Slaughterhouse Pete: I wonder if anyone has ever actually been trapped in a Chinese Finger Trap.
Slaughterhouse Pete's EvilTwin: Huh-huh. That would be pretty goddamned funny.
So then I reach into the box, take out a Chinese Finger Trap, insert index fingers into the ends, and. . .Holy Shit!
Slaughterhouse Pete: Holy Shit!
Slaughterhouse Pete's EvilTwin: What?
Slaughterhouse Pete: I am seriously stuck.
Slaughterhouse Pete's EvilTwin: Give me a break. Quit fuckin' around and let's get outta here.
Slaughterhouse Pete: No, seriously dude. I am seriously stuck.
Slaughterhouse Pete's EvilTwin: Huh-huh. That's pretty goddamned funny.
Slaughterhouse Pete: Dude!
Slaughterhouse Pete's EvilTwin: See you later. Dork.
So now I'm standing alone in this shop feeling like a total dumb-ass with my fingers stuck for real in a Chinese Finger Trap. A little Chinese old lady materializes from the back. I intuit immediately that she is the shop owner's Ultra-EvilTriplet. Her English is pretty fucked but I can tell that she's telling me that now I have to buy the Finger Trap. She's got some kind of conveniently selective comprehension: she seems utterly boggled by my requests that she help me escape but she understands immediately when I say that I would need help getting my wallet out of my back pocket. I had only a twenty for which she said she had no change.
little Chinese old lady shop owner's Ultra-EvilTriplet: You have to buy whole box.
Slaughterhouse Pete: Noooooooo!
She took my twenty, put my wallet back in my pocket, tucked the box under my arm, and pushed me out the door with both hands. Up the block I could see my EvilTwin at a news-stand reading Hustler and pretending not to see me. Staring even further in the distance, I noticed a faint shimmer ripple through the entire scene and I realized then that this had all been the work of The Solipsist.