#obunga MEGA FIGHT !

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#obunga OBUNGA NO! NO! Scary RUSH!

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#obunga 1st battle

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Jim's Subway 27 : Make it up son!

Jim, Rod and Butch worked so hard - they were all determined to make a success of things!  Nothing was going to keep them back or hold them down, not even the law!

  Damn with the law and all that nonsense!

  They would break it a thousand times if it meant making money!

  In five weeks Jim's new business venture had produced nine barrels of G-Juice.  

  So far Butch had managed to sell three of them, and then the trio drank the rest.

  In all that time they had accrued a profit of fifty pounds.

  Butch was quite happy with it, being the simple lad that he was money was money, but Rod who understood the value of such things far better understood that his ten thousand pound investment wasn't working at as well as he'd liked.

  he still hadn't quite his job yet, and he was sitting in the corner of the room, hugging his knees to his chest, and was sobbing.  He was drinking too much and was growing steadfastly depressed because of it.

  'I can't believe it!' he said through his tears.  'I am sixty and I have lost all of my money!'

  'I told you before there is a silver lining to being sixty,' Jim replied.  'You might only have ten years left to live, and then you get your ticket-out of this mess people call life.'

  'Wait a minute I am twenty!' Butch spoke up.

  Jim heard this and shut the young man down immediately:

  'If you are then I feel sorry for you!' he said.  'Now be quite Butch and don't say anything like that again!  I am trying to cheer Rod up here!  I don't want him thinking he is wasting his money, and he is no good to us crying like a child.  He has been like this all day.  We need to get him out of this state, and unhelpful comments from you are not helping!'

  Butch heard this, and promptly apologised.

  'It's different for you two,' said Rod from his corner.  'You've got nothing to lose!  My on the other hand?  This is my life!'

  'I am not giving up yet on this business,' Jim replied.  'Look!  We have made profit.  It's fifty pounds, I know, but at least we have made money.  We know for certain that there are people out there who want our product and are willing to part with their hard earned cash.  That's a good thing.  Look Rod stop wasting your tears like that.  It isn't helping.  We can only do this with a sober and steady mind.  Here, have a glass of G-Juice.  It will warm your soul and cheer you up.  Now listen, all business go through hard times.  You have to spend money to make money.  You win you lose, you lose and win.  That is the territory that we are in.  Your money is safe, Rod.  Look at me and Butch.  We are hard working serious men.  We are going to do everything in our power to earn your money back!'

  Rod continued to cry as if he hadn't heard a word JIm had said.  'It's not enough,' he said.  'I need assurances!  I was a fool to give strangers my money!  I like G-Juice.  I believed in it!  That's why I handed my money over.  But now the real world has kicked in, and I cannot cope with it.  I know I have lost everything.  I just want to cry!  Cry forever!'

  Jim was totally unsympathetic.

  'What are you crying about?' he said.  'You live in the largest house in town.  You must have loads of money stored away with such privilege?  So cut the tears you entitled idiot!'

  'My father spent all the money the family had.  That ten thousand I gave you was from my personal savings.  If this business doesn't work then I go down hardcore.  I can see a confused look on your face, Jim, so please let me elucidate:  If this business fails then I will go from living in the largest house in town to the smallest box in the streets.  Does that make more sense to you now?  Do you finally appreciate the full uggliness of my present situation.  Have I opened your eyes to the reality that is my life right now?'  

  Rod was acting out of order.  This was not like him.  Jim put it down to the drink.  After Rod had gone to bed Jim pulled Butch aside and said, 'The man is drunk!  Let him sleep it off.  We need to get Rod back on our side if this business is going to work, and it IS going to work.  Once he is sober again we will brew more G-Juice and you will sell as much of it as you can in the streets.  What we need now are glass bottles.  Hundreds of them.  Then we can sell the stuff on mass.'

  'Sure thing,' Butch replied.  'I don't know where we are going to get glass bottles from.  There is not much business for that kind of thing around here.'

  'Then we will find someone who knows someone who can get is glass bottles,' Jim replied.  'Speak around Butch.  You know Fenwick and its denizens better than I.  You know all the hidey holes of this place, you know all the characters.  There must be someone out there who can help us do this.'

  'I will get out now and look about,' Butch replied.

  Good Butch!  Everyone could rely on Butch!

  Especially when they had no choice...

Butch returned later that evening.  He looked very happy about something and couldn't wait to speak to Jim:

  'I have got good news and bad news,' he started.  'Good news is I have found somebody who will help us in our business!  Don't ask how - I just got talking to a few folks I know, and then I met someone who knew somebody who was best friends with the guy who runs the pub down the road.  The same guy runs a hotel as well as a few other businesses.  I have him a sample of the old G-Juice and he liked it and said he would be willing to sell it for us for cut in the profits!'

  Jim couldn't believe it!  

  'You're fine man Butch!' said Jim.  'I think you might have very well just saved us from going under!'

  'Slow down!' Butch returned.  'Now this is where the bad news kicks in!  I told him that you were a major producer of ales.  It was the only why I could get him to listen to me and sample our product.  Now he wants to meet you at the Short Tailed Fox tomorrow, and that's not all!  he wants to see our profit margins!'

  Rod started to have a panic attack when he heard this - it took both Jim and Butch working together to restrain the poor man.  Once Rod had calmed down and drank a glass of water, they sat the quivering man on a sofa and began to think about how they were going to do deal with the current problem.

  'It's fine,' said Jim.  'We want to see G-Juice.  We need to sell it if we are going to survive.  We were always going to have a business meeting with somebody at some stage.  And here we are, about to do what we were always destined to do!  It's not a problem!  This meeting is an opportunity!  I am actually excited about it.  So, what's the name of the man I am going to meet?'

  Butch said the man was called Tony King.

  'Very well.  Then I will meet with Mr King tomorrow and I will sort this out!' said Jim.

  'Have you ever been in a business meeting before?' said Rod.

  Jim shrugged and then said that he hadn't.  

  Not ever.

  'Well what great start,' Rod replied.  'Not that it matters, I am sure Mr King was be impressed when he sees that we have made a grand total of fifty pounds in the last three months.  Maybe you should tell him that we are also ten grand in debt!  Sweeten the deal, yes!  That will be the icing on the cake that!'

  'O stop being so negative you silly wet floppy excuse for a man!' Jim snapped.  'I can do this!  All I need is my wits, and a posh suit...'

  'We can't afford fish and chips for one let alone a posh suit!' said Rod.  

  He was right.

  They only had ten pounds in their coffers:

  'Do you know how expensive those things are?' Rod continued.

  'Don't worry about the suit!' Butch spoke up.  'I know a good place down town where I can steal one from.  I will get my hands on it by the morning, Jim, you can rely on me to do that no problem!  Stealing suits is like stealing apples!  You just got to keep a club around in case the farmer catches you, in this case it will be a tailor, but farmers and tailors are all the same underneath, especially after you have battened them over the head once or twice.'

  'Thank you Butch, I know I can rely on you to get us through these dark times,' Jim replied.  

  Jim was very grateful to Butch at that moment.  The man had done a lot of good work!  He had landed a fine profitable business deal, and a fancy suit all in one day!

  Butch admitted that he couldn't read or write and had never tried so right then as far as Jim was concerned, he was the very definition of an illiterate genius!

  'Right let's get to work!' said Jim.

  'What about the fifty pounds?' said Rod.  'Are you forget the very real fact that we aren't making any money right now?'

  'I have got a solution to that,' Jim replied.  'I need to be left alone now.  All will be revealed in the morning!  Stop worrying Rod for goodness sake!   I have a plan and it is a good one, you will see.  When this is over, we can wave goodbye to the debt.  And better than that, we will be swimming up to our necks in dough.  Trust me on this, Rod.  This is a turning point for our business.  We are going to win this!'

  Rod was so tired and stressed that he gave up on everything and slumped off to his miserable bed so he could sleep in it miserably.

  When they were alone Butch started to speak:

  'Okay Jim!  So what are you going to do when you meet that guy tomorrow?' 

  'I am going to lie,' the said man replied.

  Butch heard his and was confused.  Jim understood that Butch was confused after surveying his complex expression, and so he decided to elucidate, and give his friend some idea of his design:  

  'I am older than you Butch,' Jim started.  'I am not trying to sound like an elitist when I say this, but I know the world better than you.  I know it so well because I have lived in it longer.  I am older than you right?  So I know things better.  And I know that things don't ever get better, accept our chances of dying.  But the one thing I have learned in all my days is that lies win.  There is an old saying that is BEYOND true and it is this:  fake it till you make it.  And there you can see the seeds of my plan!  Everything in life is all make believe.  Everything that we do is literally nothing in the end.  The words that we speak are nothing more than just a bunch of fancy sounds strung together to appear nice.  That's what life is all about, Butch.  Do you hear me?  It's all just make-believe.  It's really nothing more than that.  And all we have to do is make those who don't believe, believe in us.  That's the trick!  And I am going to pull it off tomorrow.  You will see...'  

  

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

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#obunga AFTERMATH

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#obunga What the HECK happened?

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Scary #nextbot HAUNTS this HOUSE !

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#obunga ALIEN InVaSion !

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THE BACKROOMS & DREAMS

Welcome to the Backrooms...

  They are out there I assure you - 

Well, sort of.  

  I have had nightmares, dreams and lucid dreams that really do resemble something like the Backrooms.  My lucid dreams can quite often be this eerie, empty, rotting limbo land of corridors and doors and pointless rooms.  A realm where stairs that go up actually lead down, where there are no windows or lamps, but yet there is still light.

  There is also a feeling as well, a dark feeling, that somewhere outside beyond sight there are nasty eyes watching, a hunter, a feeling of a very dark presence: something deeply malevolent in fact.  Maybe Lucid dreams are purgatory, that place between life and the end of the journey - the void between the light and the dark.

I try to show this in my video.

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Jim's Subway 26 : Here is the deal...

  'We got him,' said DC Peddler, passively.  
  He was secretly hoping that Jim was lying, so that he was finally given the opportunity to arrest the man for wasting police time.
  But no...

  It was all there.  Everything the police needed to arrest any locked up?'

  'Don't worry.  He won't be able to get at you, not form one of my cells,' DC Peddler replied.

  'You almost sound despondent?  You have just captured a major felon who was threatening the well bing of this whole city.  That is going to be a pretty big feather in your cap for your career.  I thought you would be happy.'

  'I just wanted it to be you so much,' said DC Peddler.

  Well at least the man was honest.

  He didn't like Jim.  There was no discerning that.

  Actually his hatred for Jim was quite impressive.

  Even Jim was impressed.

  'I really don't understand your obsession with me?' Jim replied.  

  DC Peddler glared at Jim reproachably, and then sighed and started shaking his head.  'You are a loser, Jim,' he replied.  'You are a loser, nothing more, and I don't need to explain my behaviour to you.'

  'Yes.  You are right,' Jim replied, stoically.  'I am a loser.  For now.  But things are going to change in the future.  Seeing as I am stuck in this city for the interim, I have decided this morning that I am going to make something of myself.  yes, you heard me correct.  I am going to make it big.  I am going to take over Fenwick.'

  DC Peddler couldn't tell if Jim was joking or not.

  'I won't hold my breath,' Peddler responded.  'You couldn't take over a sock.  You're the kind of man who struggles to tie up his shoe laces in the morning before going to work.  You're the kind of man who needs his mother to tell him what to do.  You are the kind of man who can't play a game of football without his fathers help.  You're the kind of man who would dodge conscription.  You're the kind of man who would let another man take a bullet for him.  You are the kind of man who would let another man take the blame for your actions.  And worst of all, you are the kind of man who doesn't know how to turn on a water sprinkler.  It makes me weep thinking of all that poor dry grass.  I will water the grass with my tears, if needs be, but at east I care.  At least I care about keeping my garden moist.  What do you care about, Jim?'

  'Wait a minute!  I don't play football!' Jim retorted.

  'Exactly my point!' Peddler returned.  'Face it, Jim.  It's over for you!'

  'I am going to make it in this city, you'll see,' Jim replied.

  Peddler simply shook his head and walked away.

  After the pleasant conversation with DC Peddler came to an end Jim went for a walk.

  Ah!  Those lonely walks along the streets if Fenwick.

  be glad, dear reader, that you are merely the reader, and not Jim himself, but those walks were sincerely awful.

  The town was always empty, especially at night, but even during the day you were lucky to see a single soul, and after a week of living in Fenwick you knew that anyone you did meet was going to be eccentric, or mad, or a fine blend of both.  

  That was Fenwick, all streets and red brick walls and nothing else.

  And Jim was tuck in the place!

  He chuckled darkly to himself:

  'What if this is my fate?  Maybe I am dead - a lost soul, stuck in purgatory.  Darn!  If hell really is  place it might as ell be Fenwick!'

  But seeing as he was stuck in the Jim's survival instincts kicked in and he was adamant to make some paper.

  He was never going to get a real job in Fenwick, no one would ever employ a colossal loser like he was, but the one edge he did have was peoples love of the devil's broth, and the recipe that was sitting in his pocket.

  He made the decision to brew his own version of G-Juice and sell it to the public the very same minute he sold Ivan to the police.

  But who was he going to sell too?  Fenwick was nothing but empty streets and red brick walls, right?  But Jim was adamant he was going to find a way:

  'I will find a way!  I will find a way!' he kept on repeating that mad sentence in the piece of jelly between his skull again and again like an attention hungry parrot.'

  So yes, he was going to find a way.

  He had a good product, and an empty city was not going to stand in the way of his plans to sell it.

  He chuckled again to himself.

  It was in a very dark mood that day.

  Jim had a plan cooking in his head.  Part one had ben done, and now it was time to slide part two into action.

  Yes.

  It was time to put Butch to work...

  Jim returned to the Short Tailed Fox to meet with his accomplice, Butch, and a pint of something strong.

  'Okay, Butch, now is your moment!' said Jim.  Jim's nerves had been steadied by three pints of cider, and Butch, as loyal as a sober dog, was listening ion on the other side of the table and wagging his head in response.

  'My moment!  O I can't wait!  Time to prove my worth!  My mum said I would never amount to much!  I can't prove her wrong now because she's a decent distance under the earth right now, but I can defeat her in spirit and show not only her but the whole world what a great guy I am!'

  Butch was positively brimming with the prospect of working with Jim on his next endeavour.  He was impressed by Jim ruthlessness in removing Ivan from the scene.  He couldn't wait to see what the man planned to do next!

  'Right this is what I need you to do,' said Jim.  'I need you to break into Ivans lab and steal his distillery and anything else that you can lay your hands on.  Take as much as you can.  We are going to need his equipment  if we are going to brew our own G-Juice.  Everything you take you hide in the old subway.  It is abandoned and no one will look there.  And even if they did no one is going to want to steal a distillery, right?  I mean, what is a theif going to do with that thing, right?'

  Butch nodded.  He completely agreed and understood everything that Jim was talking about, and so did Billy the dog sat nearby.

  'Be quick,' said Jim.  'You have got to do this before the day is over, by tomorrow it will be too late.  We are working against DC Peddler and his cronies, and they will seize all of Ivans work as part of their investigation.  We have got t get there before them!  You can do this Butch!  I believe in you!  And don't worry about the police.  You look like a thug so they'll leave you alone.'

  Butch nodded and immediately set out to do the deed!

  The next day.  Butch had looted the lab high and dry, and dumped the spoils deep down int he subway...

  After that Butch and Jim returned to the Short ailed Fox for a celebratory drink!

  'You are a fine man, Butch,' said Jim, who was seriously half cut at that moment on whiskey.  'We are going to take over Fenwick.  Thats right!  You and are are going to be kings in the streets of this wretched town!'

  'I'll drink to that,' Butch replied.  'I did a good job on the Ivan's old place if I don't say so myself.  I took everything I could lay my hands on, even his old cheese grater.  Yep!  Took it all.'

  'Yes well, we don 't need the cheese grater so you can throw than thing in the canal first thing,' said Jim.  'The only thing we need now is a place to brew our special potion...  Can you think of any place?'

  'I know somewhere secret.  but it is a very scary unsavoury place,' Butch replied.  'They call is The Swamp.  polish off your drink there and I will show you to the place right now if you like.'

  

The Swamp turned out to be the local sewer, right beneath the whole of Fenwick.  A dirty dreadful stinking place but apart from that there was also something very sinister going on in the dreadful dank tunnels of that vile underworld.

  'They dump people here you know?' spoke up Butch.  'I have done it myself a few times.  When someone messes around and the locals take a dislike to them we knock 'em over the head and throw 'em down here.  They call the place the Swamp.  This is where we bury people.  This is where people go to disappear forever.  Some infamous folks have vanished in the depths of the Swamp!  I think this will be a fine place to brew G-Juice I mean who is going to look for us down here in this vile wasteland?'

  Jim was struggling to find his breath in the vile place.  'I think we need to rethink our strategy!' Jim replied.  'Let's get back to the pub.  After we have begged for another drink we will think of a better plan.'

  'After you then sir,' Butch replied.  'Let's go back to our begging ways!  Ah!  But not for long, hey?  boss?  We are going to take over, like you say.  We are going to be kings!'

  'Yes, Butch, kings,' Jim replied, while trying not to choke on the fumes of rot and filth.  'I plan to make us both filthy rich by selling our G-Juice product to the world!  But we are not going to becomes kings stuck down in this damn place!  So let's get back to the pub post haste - and O!  Butch!  Keep calling me boss...  I like that!'

  Butch gave Jim a salute, and nodded his head.  'After you Boss!  Let's get back to the pub!'

  

After begging for another round of drinks at the pub, Butch and Jim sat down to rethink their strategy of taking over the world.

  'We can't work in a sewer,' said Jim.  'It's not practical.  And it's also undignifying.  I want to start a legitiment business.  I want the people who we are going to be trading with to take us seriously.  If they figure out we are working knee deep in other peoples slurry they won't want to deal with us.  Remember, we are trying to brew one of the finest alcoholic beverages in town, so we must at the very atomic level take hygiene into consideration.  We need to at the very least make sure we do not make our special drink in a place where people are guaranteed to contract diseases and possibly die.  We would be sewed into oblivion if people ever found out what we were up to.  So no!  We can't set up shop in a sewer.  We need to find something else.  Something more respectful.  We will only work in the sewer if we ever get completely desperate - and we are still a few feet just above the desperate level.  If the time comes when it is impossible to beg for free drinks then we can say we are officially desperate.  We must work hard to make sure that day never comes to pass.'

  Just then Rod entered the building.  He was looking as nervous and shaky as ever!

  But then that was just Rod's way.

  He had just returned from the Castle, and joining Jim and Butch at the table started to moan about his career as a dog.  

  'I don't think I can stand working in the Castle no longer,' he said.  'I would ask for a drink but I wont because I know it will not cure me of my depression, and neither will it calm my nerves.  It will only make me feel more sick than I already am and I don't need that right now.'

  Jim heard this and chuckled.

  'Just as well because Butch and I are both poor as mice, we have been begging for drinks all day,' said Jim.  'There will be no drinks heading your way from our table!  Not as long as our pockets remain empty.  Anyway, what's with all the negativity?  I thought you liked working in the castle?'

  'I lied,' Rod returned.  

  'I don't believe you!  You are a privileged citizen!' Jim replied.  'You are the only person alive in Fenwick who has access to the place!  You are friends with the elite of the city!  I feel privileged just to sit next to you!  I think this is what it must feel like to be in the company of royalty!'

  'Please tell me you are joking?' said Rod.  'My life is the worst thing imaginable.  Well, maybe a maggot has it worse... sort of.  But i can't stand the way things are going right now.  No sir.  It's just gotten too much!  They just want me to be the court jester in the castle.  All they do is laugh at me.  It's so humiliating.  And at my age!  You know?  This year I turned fifty.  Yes, that's right.  I am fifty years old!'

  'Wow slow down!' said Jim.  'You talk like that is a bad thing!  You are lucky!  Think about it like this, Rod.  You could just be turning twenty right now and still have sixty years of life left to live.  But at fifty you only have twenty years to face at worst, ten if you drink and smoke.  So it isn't all that bad!'

  Rod had to sit and think about this for a moment, and when he had he smiled and replied, 'By gum you are correct, good sir!  Yes!  I am that much closer out of the game!  You have made me feel so much better!  So much better as it were that I am willing to offer you a deal!'

  Jim asked the man what kind of a deal he was offering.

  'Money and more,' Rod replied.  'So you are trying to setup a new business?'

  'How did you find this out?' said Jim.

  'Everyone in Fenwick knows,' Rod returned.  'You talk about it all the time while drunk.'

  Jim felt so defeated after hearing this...

  He remembered again the horrors of being the blackout drunk - a style of living where memory meant absolutely nothing.

  However, Jim continued with his offer.  This is what he proposed:

  'Look here, lads.  I own the largest house in the city!  You can stay in one of the rooms in my house.  And I have a basement as well.  Yes.  It will be the perfect space of a laboratory!  I will give you a line of credit as well.  Ten thousand of my life savings are yours upfront so you can purchase all the equipment that you need!'

  'Slow down!' said Jim, once again.  'This all sounds far too good!  So let's get something out of the way first before we talk any further - what do YOU want in return for all of this goodness?'

  'A cut in your business,' Rod replied.  He put it just like that, straight and simple, no dithering around.  'You make the business profitable, and make me enough money so that I can quite my humiliating castle job, and my home is your home.  So how about it fellows?  Are you with me?'

  Jim got up and started literally shaking the other mans hand off!

  'Good doing business with you, Mr Rod,' Jim replied.  He was simply ostentatious!  There was no other word to describe how positively brimming he was with obsoletely pure unadulterated positivity.  And he knew right away that it was positivity that he was feeling because he had never felt positive about anything before in his entire life!  'This will be a nice earner for you,' he said.  'And you can say goodbye to that embarrassing castle job of yours, Rod, my boy!  You no longer have to play the dog - you can finally stand with your head held high and be a man!  Congratulations!  You have made all of our lives a better place to be!'

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

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