The Man Who Sat Alone

Let me tell you the short story of a man who sits alone. This guy lived as one of the many characters in my book. But he did not make it past chapter five. The reason: I hated him. I did not even give him a name. But you shall know him as the man who sat alone (he does not even deserve title caps).

Anyway, all he did was sit alone; he did not get along with anyone. I placed him in a scene with the nicest people in my book in chapter two, and he pissed them off big time. I gave him a second chance in the third chapter and allowed him to correct his mistakes. But instead, he broke the heart of the funniest character ever in the book. As God, I gave him yet another chance to redeem himself.

In chapter four, I let him sit all alone in a corner so he could just exist without bothering anyone. And even in that secluded place, he managed to go out of his way to destroy the peace of everyone around him. By now, I knew what best to do.

So, in chapter five, I took out his heart and fed it to the dogs, and let the rest of my nicest characters feed on him. But they refused. Too much filth, they said. So, I had no choice but to transform the rest of his heartless body into a fat turkey, cut him up and deliver it to the poor and needy for Thanksgiving. At least now he can contribute to others.

But what about his soul? No worries. I gave it to Stephen King who has other plans for it in his next book. And now I can finally rest and continue with the rest of my writing career.

My next book? "The Dog Who Ate a Man With No Heart."