Story from 2004

WRITTEN IN 2004, I found this tripe sitting on my hard drive. Instead of burning it, I present it to you, unedited and vomitlicious.

Roland T. Humberdunger was a modest man. When he had success, he could only think of it's failure; his kugel-based passover dinner was tastier then a nubile young sephardic beauty showing off her brand-new gold plated menorah, yet he told people it was "too sweet". His penis was over 14 inches long, yet he told everyone he was a eunuch. He was a man who didn't like attention.

One day, coming home from an honest day's work at the Chabad "Beard-o-thon", he ran into his ex-wife, Sherida, a classic sadomasochist; sometimes she cried, sometimes she masturbated and sometimes she cried while masturbating. Needless to say, their relationship was doomed from the start, or at least when they both got a good look at each other naked.

When Roland ran in to her, he said the thing that was immediately on his mind:

'I thought you were dead'

'why's that?' she queried.

'well, your family told me. Also, that funeral of yours was a dead giveaway'

She pardoned his unintentional pun.

'Well, I just didn't know how to break up with people, Roland. I'm not very good at separating, I would have just ended up not breaking up with you, and neither of us wanted that'

'sure, right. So, you staged the whole thing, your mom was in on it, all our friends? Everyone knows you're alive but me?'

'I've got to make some phone calls' and with that, she ran away.

Roland didn't know what to do, and nor did he care. So his wife staged her own death rather then spend another moment in their deadening relationship. So she left their bed one night while he slept and replaced herself with the mutilated corpse of an unidentified young woman. So he was put on trial for her murder and served 10 years in prison until he was let off on a processing technicality

He didn't care.

He was modest with everything else, maybe it would be time to develop an imaginary wonderful girlfriend that he would tell his friends was studying in Canada somewhere. That way he would never have to worry about being in a relationship again.

Thus was borne Rachel, the imaginary Canadian botanist.

'She's studying a rare plant in Edmonton, so you'll probably never meet her' he would tell people at parties.

'wow, he's full of horseshit' people would whisper to each other when he turned away.

Sometimes Roland would write himself e-mails from Rachel; talking about love, life and certain brands of sugar-free cereal. He would joyously show these to his friends and they would swiftly notice that they came from his other email account. They smiled and ran quickly away from him to attend parties he wasn't invited to.

Roland, however, didn't notice. He was beginning to fall in love with Rachel. All of her emails seemed to really connect with him. She began to remind him of someone. At first, he couldn't think of who it could be, but it dawned on him:

It was himself! He was finally, truly and madly in love with someone, and it was him!

He was the perfect soul mate for himself and he decided he would ask Rachel to move in with him. The very next week, Roland moved a big mirror with "Rachel" written on it in sharpie into his bedroom.

But, alas, like all passionate romances, they drifted apart. Roland couldn't stand being around himself and the mirror was annoyed that it was constantly foggy.

The relationship ended one day when Roland caught the mirror in bed with reflective glass. Roland stormed in and broke the glass, and wound up being arrested for glassicide, which is a crime that doesn't actually exist. Neither did the policeman that arrested Roland.

Roland died in the New York City Mental Ward 60 years later.