fong: a story
(this is a story i wrote when i was 15-16 years old. it is not good and i am not proud of it. the entire story follows the humiliation and destruction of a high school student named fong. my obsession with humiliation, with incomprehensible horror apparently began at an early age. i have no idea what the hell this shit is or why i am posting this.)
Fong rose out of bed in his usual state-- covered in a mix of urine and cold sweat, to the rhythmic taunts of his mother. "what a day this could be!" fong said gleefully. "fuck you." his mother yelled. After relieving himself, Fong gathered his belongings and ran downstairs to see what was for breakfast. “nothing, why can't you get that through your shitty head!?” his mother chimed. Fong, knowing this to be tough love, skipped out the door just before a handful of trash flew his way. “Ahh...now to catch that darn bus...” His bus stop was located just beyond the local shit hole known as his yard. The bus soon rounded the corner striking his neighbor, Mr. Gaine's new puppy. “goodbye sparky” fong called out in a warm voice.
Upon entering the bus, Fong desperately tried to find a seat, but to no avail. Each one was filled with a person boldly saying he smelled like “sperm covered ass.” Usually Fong took these compliments wholeheartedly, but today he felt like he wanted to breathe in everybody's sunshine and love. At the end of the aisle was where Fong found a seat. Luckily for him his companion was the well known and less loved deaf boy name Gabe Peter. “Hi Gabe, beautiful day yes?” Fong said. Since Gabe lost most fingers last year, he did not sign a response. “the sun makes me speechless too. Hey Gabe do you have any lunch money?” Gabe responded by releasing a glob of vomit onto his collar. Fong took this as a 'no' and both were silent the rest of the ride. The crumbling sign to the High School greeted each student. Pulling into the parking lot the bus driver ordered, “git yer asses off my boos before i shoot you with me gun.” Fong asked the driver, “sir, telling from your accent, are you from the midwest?” turning his head ever so slightly, the driver gathered a wad of chewing tobacco from his mouth and wiped it on Fong's face. This was not the answer Fong was expecting.
Entering the school with the shrieking driver behind him, Fong was greeted by his friends Harvey and Marvin. “Hey Fong...” the two sneered. “Oh hello Harvey, Oh hello Marvin.” “we got something for you in the bathroom boy.”
Gasping, Fong followed the men to the bathroom. They opened the last stall with the excitement of a child on christmas morn. In the porcelain bowl lay a filthy brown mass of goo. “why would I want that?” fong asked. “Who wouldn't” harvey replied, picking up the waste and seductively spread it on his and Marvin's torso. Fong, bewildered, slowly backed out of the door, staring at the scene unfolding. After witnessing what had to have been a rule infraction, he galloped to first hour PE. Not being the most athletic child, Fong was usually ganged up on during dodgeball and spit on then pushed down. Only the faculty joke about what happened to Fong in the locker room. 20 minutes into class, Mr Henderson, the gym instructor, assigned teams for dodgeball. The teams, as usual, were Fong and the Losers vs. The All Stars. The whistle blew as Fong cowered against Gabe. “get em gabe! Strut your magic!” gabe did not.
The hard rubber ball immediately struck gabe in his fleshy neck and he went down in a sloppy pile within the blink of an eye. “youre next Dung!” screamed an All Star. “my name is Fo---” his remark was cut short with a point blank blast to his groin. “We Won!” celebrated Mr. Henderson, belly bumping and high fiving the all stars. “clean that piss up Fong” commanded the teacher.
Fong spent the rest of the day in the nurse's office. Instead of pity, fong received the phrases “i am sick of your bullshit” and “grow up.” after the bell rang, Fong was visited by harvey and marvin. “Oh hello Harvey. Oh hello Marvin.” “Fong, we got another suprise for you.” “I dont know, the last one was disgusting.” “This one is just as good, trust me” Harvey said. “Fine where is it?” “Right here silly bunny” Marvin said. From behind his back Marvin produced something Fong has never seen before. “what is that?” fong asked. “Money” Harvey said. “Can I have it?” Fong asked. The two men laughed, tucked Fong into the infirmary bed, kissed him, and walked away. Fong went gently to sleep.
Awakening from his slumber, he was alerted to the fact that the school was closed, and no one could enter or leave “Fiddlesticks! I'm trapped til daybreak. Not again.” Putting on his trouser, Fong decided to adventure down the halls and into the gymnasium. Upon entering, he witnessed the custodian plunging his member deep into the abyss known as a wrestling mat. The janitor, with his keen sense, started at Fong like a deer in headlights and sprang up on all fours, crawling away into a giant rat hole. Fong followed closely and attempted to peer into the hole but was immediately brought to his knees by the recognizable stench of feces. Fong's sobbing did nothing to stop the guttural roar reverberating through the danger zone. “Uhh, hello?” Fong called out.
“Friend?” a voice answered. After some brief soul searching, Fong opened up his emotions and entered the sanctuary. “Finally a customer” the custodian said. “Whatchya got?” Fong answered. “Hang on handsome, make yourself comfortable and lie down.” The aroma soon became too much for Fong and his eyelids became heavy, like the cinderblocks he was punished under as a child. Startled, Fong rose up and discovered he was back in his own bed. “What the heck. Was that a dream? It was, it was...so real.” Pulling up his slacks, he looked over at his nightstand. Fong saw a polaroid of him and the custodian with lipstick stains on the photo. Clutching the evidence to his bosom, he let out a wailing cry that sounded not unlike a breaching baby. The sound echoed throughout the home and his mother barged in, only wearing skivvies, swearing at Fong to “shut the fuck up or she'll scrape his lips again.” Turning to the side to allow her rump to pass through the door, she glided back into the obscurity of the hallway. Again Fong fell back asleep. The next day, Fong was in a daze up until 6th hour. This was all fine to him, but he desperately desired to understand why he was wearing fur and heavy eye make up on. The one clue he had was the dry stain on his pants. His mental processing was soon broken by a chilling sound. “LOOOOOOVE.” a voice was calling. “Uh, I don't know.” Fong replied. “LOOOOOOOOOVE.” the voice became angry. “What? Oh, haha. Ok let me just put my pants on.” “LOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!” The voice couldn't wait any longer. The ceiling tiles burst open above Fong and one burly arm grabbed the boy and retracted up into the ceiling. Students and faculty watched with open eyes and closed mouths as Fong was swallowed up into the asbestos filled tile. “Why won't you help me?” Fong pleaded as he tried to fight off the forearm grabbing his torso. “people! Help me! Why can't you help me?” One brave student dropped his jansport pack on the ground, laid his head on it and watched the scene unfold. Fong's sobbing and low moans blocked out the police sirens entering the parking lot. The beast and Fong were trapped in a stymie—Fong was stuck in the ceiling and couldn't escape either way. Locked in battle, Fong did not notice the squadron of SWAT officers underneath him until the last moment. “Oh jeez, you guys are here. Something got me, help if you can. Uhh, don't pull your guns out, you could shoot and kill me.” The stubborn officers unclicked the safety on their pistols and let out a volley of lead, tearing everything above them apart. “GLUGGHGHGHJGHGHG” Fong vomited as his upper half was entirely decimated. Tumbling down to the linoleum floor, Fong was mildly responsive. The burly armed man lay on the floor next to him, but soon regained consciousness and eluded the police with expert juke moves and leaps of faith. The last thing Fong saw before blacking out was the heel of a boot coming down to squash his pancreas. The officer sweetly said “you're coming with us Jolly Roger!” Fong continued to drift between consciousness and unconsciousness until he underwent non-emergency surgery.