Taming Of The Bastard
After the attack of the killer clowns you may remember that Bret was due to be called into court. Rather than bore you with a boring tedious courtroom drama I will take you through the main points. Bret was accused of wilful destruction of property. Being the immense egotist that he was he decided to defend himself. He defended his case well, considering he had no idea what the hell he was doing. After getting very agitated with the prosecutor and decking him his standing with the judge wasn’t great. However the interruption of the Snakecharmer changed all of this……
(The Snakecharmer is a man who uses snakes for his evil purposes. He controls them, not by mind control or by and sophisticated electronics, not even with a snakecharmer’s pipe. In fact he charms snakes by being a complete flirt he entices them into bed and then promises them sexual favours …anyway back to the story).
The Snakecharmer broke into the courtroom and was about to kill everyone when Bret told him that his had shit on his shoes. Not realising that he wasn’t wearing shoes and that in fact he was wearing his patent applied for snakeskin flip-flops, he was quickly overpowered by Bret who knocked him over by hitting him with the entire jury and then the prosecution. After which the judge decided to let Bret off with a caution and a promise from him that he take a course of counselling to deal with all of his anti-feeling for the rest of humankind. Bret had no choice but to agree, I mean they wouldn’t put him in prison because the prisoners…well…they were all afraid he would hurt them. Thus begins this episode of Bret’s Journals…
Bret looked at his watch. He was late for his counselling session mostly due to Blow-up-banana boy going on holiday with the Bastard Mobile. Bret did not like public transport. When he did finally reach the building he approached the receptionist who told him to go right up to the office. He knocked on the door and went in.
“Please take a seat” said the woman behind the desk motioning to the sofa.
“Tell me, what would you like me call you Mr. Bastard?” asked the woman.
“Master would be nice!” answered Bret “Preferably preceded by ‘…Is there anything I can do to give you endless pleasure!’”
“Mr. Bastard if you continue to speak in this manner I will be forced to tell the court that you are not co-operating!…Now I shall call you Bret and you may call me Maria”
“Ok Maria!” said Bret
“Right lets start with your need for violence”, Maria began,”Why do you feel you need to express yourself with violence?”
“…..well” replied Bret “It all stems from my childhood….”
“….really” said Maria obviously enthralled.
“….no not really…bwahahahahahaha I just thought I’d wind you up!…bwahahahahah!”
“Mr. Bastard…..what did I tell you?”
“Ok…..ok…..”
This was clearly not going to be a barrel of laughs.
“Right shall we instead start with your childhood” suggested Maria
“I didn’t have a childhood different from any other child. I wanted the same things …y’know cool toys, more food, a pet crocodile to beat up, a fluffy bunny to destroy those kinds of things.”
“Hmmmmmm…….what about your parents?”
“My parents? I never knew them…I mean they were never there”
“Your parents never cuddled you, held you or talked to you?”
“Well no it would have been quite disgusting if they did!”
“Why was that?” said Maria (putting on her extremely concerned look)
“Well they were dead!”
“Oh I see…what about brothers and sisters?”
“I had a brother and a sister”
“HAD a brother and a sister?”
“Yeah , me and my brother were always competing…like all kids do. Then one day there was a challenge neither of us could resist. You see there was this old man who lived next to us and he had a dog called Fluffy, one of those faggotish poodles with Brian May hair. Anyway, he went out for the day and we dared each other to shave his dog. Naturally I whacked my brother over the head with a shovel so that I could get there first.”
“You killed your brother with a shovel?” (Horrified face)
“…no don’t be stupid…I went on over and started shaving the dog but something went wrong with the hair trimmer. It was set to grade -7 and I managed to clip the dogs head right off. Now I was in trouble and that wasn’t good. So, I went to my brother, who was at this time recovering from the shovel incident and I said to him that I had shaved the dog and that he could have the glory if he gave me his piggy bank. He thought about it for a while and then he said Ok (Not very bright my brother you understand). I told him where the clippers were and he went off to get them. Just then our neighbour Mr. Stalin came home and naturally he wasn’t all too pleased when he found that his prize poodle was missing his head, as you could understand! He caught my brother and then commanded that he be shot and that’s as far as the story goes…”
Maria looked ever so slightly disturbed.
“So……er……….what about your sister?” she asked
“My sister she ran away after the head shaving thing because she said that she loved my Brother more than me and that it was my fault that he had been killed. I didn’t really see her side….y’know…..I….mean…..it could have been me executed…I mean….NO THANKYOU!”
“I see” said Maria, wondering if she should have tried a different career. “It seems that childhood trauma could have affected your judgement! Lets proceed further shall we”
She shifted position in her chair.
“How about you first sexual experience?”
“……er….well there was this girl who I liked called Samantha Apples and it was her birthday, so she and I celebrated upstairs for a couple of minutes if you know what I mean. Then we went back downstairs to play musical chairs and get our pieces of cake”
“Musical chairs? Pieces of Cake?…how old were you?”
“Oh I must have been about three and a half then. Its hard to remember there were quite a lot of parties around then. Yes, three and a half. Early developer you see!”
“I see” said Maria.
“Of course there have been a few since then…..”
“Really…”said Maria crossing her legs and relaxing in her big chair.
“Tell me about your sister”
“Not much to tell really I have no idea where she is at the moment…”
Strangely enough right at that moment Bret’s sister was attempting to assassinate her brother while he sat in Maria’s office. However rather than shoot him from miles away she decided that she would crash in the window and cut him to pieces with a very blunt biro. Intelligence in the Bastard Family was never a stongpoint!
“Diiiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!!” she shouted as she careered through the window causing glass and wood to fly everywhere.
“What the?……Sis how are you?” questiond Bret the surprised Bastard
“Diiiiiiiiiieeeeeee you scumsucking pig! You don’t deserve to live! You sorry excuse for a human being. I shall rip out your nose hairs one by one with a pair of pliers and then drive you slowly insane by playing Summer Holiday by Cliff Richard over a million times in only one of your ears while playing Wonderwall by Oasis in the other! I hate you you bastard! Come here and let me show you how much I hate you”
“……….er…..my you have grown since I last saw you…..!” replied Bret.
Is this the end for our hero has he met his match in the form of family …….is he to be slain by his sister? Find out in the next instalment of…Bret’s Journals!