[-------------------------------------------------------------------------] -oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo- [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] ____ ____ ____ _I_R_ | || |\ \ M E | || |/____/ Phillip Fights the Law P A | || |\ \ ir file number 055 U L |____||____| |____| released 10.13.00 L I | || |\| | by nawleed & linear S T |____||____| |____| we're just fucking with your mind. E Y even_god_reads_it [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] -oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo- [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] SWEET FUCKING CHRIST! was all little Phillip Van Rothorne could think as he looked up into the eyes of his father, towering over him in a rage of anger. Phillip was paralyzed with fear, he lay frozen on the floor. He wished that he had never crossed his father, he knew he had a temper, and this was certainly not the first time he had felt the wrath of the drunken madman. Phillip wanted to scream, but the only speech he could manage were the letters W, T and F. "WTF DAD!!" he shouted. "LIKE WTF!!!" This continued for some time, and Phillip's father was aghast. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU," he yelled, "YOU WORTHLESS MOTHERFUCKER? IS IT SO FUCKING HARD TO TYPE 'WHAT THE FUCK'?? WELL? IS IT, TOUGH GUY? ANSWER ME!" He then smashed the empty beer bottle which he had been holding against the table, breaking it in half, and moved in for the kill. Phillip had to think fast. "Whoa, dad! Like, STFU d00d!" he said calmly, in the best hacker- esque voice he could muster. "What did you say? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?" said his father, raising the broken beer bottle... "I said like, chill yo! :) :) :)" Phillip's father was too confused to do much, and dropped his broken beer bottle. "Where do we keep the Asprin, punk? I gots me a headache now!" "d00d, like, BRB dad," was all Phillip said as he ran out of the room. Phillip ran out of that house, which had been home to all of his rage and sadness for far too long, and down to the street to his friend Joey's house. When he arrived he knocked on the door and Joey's mother answered. "Hi Mrs. Joey," Phillip said. "Is Joey home?" "Sorry Phillip," Joey's mother said, "But Joey was arrested a week ago for hacking the planet. And by the way, this _Hackers_ reference really isn't funny. You should be ashamed of yourself." Shocked and confused, Phillip stared wide-eyed at Joey's mother and said nothing. Phillip, having becomed very uneasy with Joey's mother's vacant stare and odd silence, slowly started backing away from the house. Once he was off the property, Phillip realized that school got out just an hour or two ago, and maybe his teacher would still be there. Maybe he could help. "Mr. Anderson!" Yelled Phillip from across the hall as he arrived at the school. "Mr. Anderson! You got to help me! I think my dad is going to hurt me again!" "Whoa... I know Kung Foo..." "Dammit, Mr. Anderson, there is NO WAY that _The Matrix_ took place only one week after _Hackers_... so knock that shit off!!" "Whoa..." "Anyway, about my problem-" "Yea, I've got a problem too... It's been there like a thorn in my side all my life, but-" "KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF!" "Sorry. Seeing as how I'm THE ONE and all, it's difficult to focus on anything else for any amount of time. Anyway, what's on your mind?" "Look: you are not 'THE ONE'. There is no 'THE ONE'. That's from a movie. A shitty movie. So knock it off." "Shitty? I thought it was a fairly accurate reflection of our times. Plus, Keanu Reeves is, like, dreamy." "ARGH!" "You think that's air you're breathing now? Hmph." With that, Phillip had built up so much rage that he smashed Mr. Anderson's face in with a large crowbar which had been conviently left on the ground in the hall. Phillip knew he could get away with murder - after all, hurt people hurt people. And Phillip was hurt. Emotionally, that is. After dumping Mr Anderson's body in a very deep river that conviently ran through the middle of the school, Phillip realized that it was HE who needed to do something about his situation, and seeking help from others was not going to get him anywhere. What Phillip failed to realize when thinking about his problems, however, was that there might be witnesses to this brutal act of violence. Sure enough, the police arrived mere minutes later and arrested Phillip. When it came time for Phillip to testify for himself in court, he had worked out a plan with his lawyer--the best in the city--that would virtually guarantee him to be found innocent. Phillip took the stand and told the unsympathetic jury his entire story. He left nothing out. The countless hours of abuse he had received from his father, the utterly unfunny references to shitty movies; he told it all, but he could see that the jury was not phased. He would have to come up with something more convincing. "And um," Phillip said, stuttering, "Before the time of the, uh, act of violence that I er, committed, I ate an unhealthy amount of twinkies, which caused me to go temporarily insane. Uh, yeah, that's it." It only took the jury a few minutes to reach a verdict: not guilty because of temporary insanity. Phillip, with his abusive childhood and movie-referencing associates, was not to blame. Rather, HOSTESS, the maker of the twinkies that had fueled Phillip's madness, was at fault here. Phillip and his lawyer used this as motivation for a lawsuit against HOSTESS, which Phillip won easily. He got a shitload of cash and lived happily ever after. And um, his Dad died or something. [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] Copyright (c) 2000 IMPULSE REALITY PRESS - http://phonelosers.net/ir [-------------------------------------------------------------------------]