Tales of Bob Dean #1

Bob Dean

http://www.subgenius.com/bigfist/Art_Mines_24/zzzLol_Assholes/loldean... stood on the streetcorner, stamping his feet and rubbing his shoulders against the bitter cold. Bob Dean had a small cardboard stand next to him with a stack of copies of his self-published pamphlet, "FIVEBODIED".

It was damned cold, but Bob Dean KNEW today would be the day; today would be the day that somebody took one of his pamphlets, read it, realized that Bob Dean was the greatest genius ever, and this would in turn lead to world-wide fame and fortune for Bob Dean. He just needed to keep pushing his pamphlet on people long enough, and eventually it HAD to happen.

In fact Bob Dean had been on this same streetcorner for over fifteen years, and had only given away a total of about five of his pamphlets in that time.  And these had all been to people who couldn't read. And who were mostly completely insane.  Like this guy for instance: http://www.subgenius.com/bigfist/Art_Mines_24/zzzLol_Assholes/loldean... But Bob Dean had the irrepressible confidence that comes to people who are either natural-born salesmen, or who are not bright enough to link effect with cause.  Given that Bob Dean had not made a single sale in fifteen years, maybe we should not think too deeply about that.

But Bob Dean knew today would be the day.  He had known it every dayfor fifteen years.  It had never been, but he KNEW today would be the day.

A harried-looking man walked up the sidewalk in Dean's direction, holding his overcoat shut against the wind, looking down at the sidewalk.  Bob Dean leapt out at the man, blocking his way, and started shouting at him.

"HEY MISTER!  HEY MISTER!  Learn all about Xenochrony and The AndroidMeme!  Hear the truth about Kroker and the Chip Body and Marshall Macluhan!  My pamphlet, FIVEBODIED, will explain it all!  Just turn to page 17!"

The man stepped back and eyed Bob Dean, trying to gauge if he were crazy enough to be dangerous.  He wasn't quite sure.  There was no getting past him without shoving him into the street.

"What the hell are you talking about?  I have never heard of any of that stuff or if I have, I have absolutely zero interest in it.  So I don't need it explained.  Get the hell out of my way."

Dean absolutely and completely failed to register that he had not generated any form of interest in his target.  He blustered on, flapping his arms in the air for emphasis.

"You should turn to page 21 in FIVEBODIED, and then you WOULD be interested in what I'm talking about!  Here, let me shove this pamphlet into your face!  Page 21!"

The man had decided that this dancing loon was too agitated to safely shove him out of the way, he seemed on the verge of throwing a fit. "Look, friend", he patiently explained to Bob Dean, "I have no interest in reading your pamphlet.  If you can explain to me in a concise manner WHY I should be interested, what your ideas are, I might be willing to take one of your pamphlets.  But so far you are just babbling a bunch of double-talk and there's no way I am going to even waste my time on it if you can't even tell me what the point is. Do you understand?"

"The explanation is in FIVEBODIED on page 37!  Just take a pamphlet and read it!  See page 37 in FIVEBODIED!" Bob Dean crowed joyously.

In his mind, Bob Dean thought he was being the most convincing pamphlet salesman in human history.

He wasn't.

The man realized this was going in circles.  Grabbing Bob Dean by the elbow, with a deft twist he threw him hurtling into the busy street. And then went on up the sidewalk.

Bob Dean barely kept his balance as he flew into the street.  Directly in front of a taxi doing 30 miles per hour.

The taxi hit Bob Dean solidly, and he was flung spinning into the air, feet spinning over his head then head over feet then feet over head again, as fast as a pinwheel.  He was flung a good 11 feet in the air, then, gracefully spinning, he began dropping again, falling into the next lane of traffic, directly in the path of a Humvee doing sixty.

Bob Dean's plummeting body cracked the windshield of the Humvee and he was flung up again, this time flying face-first into the air, like a human rocket flying towards outer space.  But Bob Dean did not achieve escape velocity, and instead arced and fell again, this time back to the side of the street from which he had originally come, and head-first he smashed into his little stand of FIVEBODIED pamphlets, cracking his skull on the sidewalk beneath.

Fortunately for Bob Dean, the part of the brain which registers pain and danger and which says to people "THIS IS A VERY BAD IDEA" did not work in Bob Dean at all.  Indeed the part of the brain which links effect with cause was completely non-existent in Bob Dean.  In fact the only part of Bob Dean's brain which seemed to work at all was the part that told him that people would be interested in FIVEBODIED. Even the part of his brain which might have told him that they weren't, and never had been, and never would be, was, in Bob Dean's brain, only a few thin strands of mucous.

So as Bob Dean picked himself off the sidewalk, blood and brain matter gushing from his nose thickly, half the bones in his body shattered, he was completely oblivious to what had just happened. "Exactly!", said Bob Dean, and then "hehehe".

And Bob Dean ran up the sidewalk towards his target.

"This time", Bob Dean thought, "he will HAVE to look at my pamphlet!" "HEY MISTER!  HEY MISTER!", Bob Dean cried at the man.  "Look at FIVEBODIED, page eleventy-six, about what just happened!" The man looked back in amazement.

"Look, I'm sorry about what just happened, but just fuck off.  I'm not interested.  I never have been interested.  I never will be.  Can't you grasp that?"

"Exactly!", said Bob Dean, "he he he".  "Just look at FIVEBODIED, pagequallo nurk nick!", and Bob Dean shoved a copy of his pamphlet in the man's face.

Bob Dean's prospective worshipper had, unfortunately, boxed professionally for several years.  And he had really lost any semblance of patience with Bob Dean.  He was now literally seeing red. He hooked a solid right cross into the side of Bob Dean's head.  Bob Dean's head jerked in the other direction, yanked up into the air, stretching his neck like a spring.  Every tooth in Bob Dean's head jetted into the sidewalk in a slurry of blood and ruined shredded gums.  His neck, like a spring, snapped back with such force that Bob Dean's eye was ejected from its socket.

"Exactly!", said Bob Dean, and added "heh heh heh!".  "Just read FIVEBODIED, the article where I channel Frank Zappa and he talks to Lyndon Larouche about the numbers eight and sixteen!"

Just at this moment, a brace of nuns walked up the sidewalk and witnessed what was going on.  They rushed to Bob Dean's side, seeking to aid this poor horribly injured soul.

But unfortunately, there was just something about Bob Dean which simply irritated the living fuck out of the nuns;  as it did everybody he ever met.

The nuns, horrified by what they were doing even as they were doing it, beat Bob Dean mercilessly.

Next they laid him in the street, put his ankle up on the sidewalk, then stomped down on his knee it until his leg broke.

Next, they all mounted strap-on dildos (WHERE did nuns get strap-on dildos?  They're NUNS!  Nuns all carry strap-on dildos in those robes, you know).  Two of them at a time held him face down on the sidewalk, his pants down around his ankles, while a third savagely butt-secksed Bob Dean.  They then rotated in turns until each of the nuns had done so until Bob Dean's ass was shredded like raw hamburger and was bleeding copiously into the gutter.

"I should feel bad about what we've just done ... but there's just something about that guy that irritates the fuck out of me", said the youngest of the nuns.  The others all nodded philosophically in agreement and they continued on their way.

"All in all", Bob Dean thought to himself at this point, "I think that went well.  I think I was REALLY getting to them!

I mean, they WERE paying attention to me, after all!"