Categories > Cartoons > Transformers > Garlic Pizza and a Crab
Gavin's brain often took the strangest of times as an opportunity to try and re-evaluate life.
Sitting in a dim apartment wearing nothing but hole-filled underwear and socks, eating garlic pizza was clearly the perfect time to reflect back on his life.
Rather fucking shit.
He was a student that was 'going places'.
Bullshit.
Every student got fed that crap from the day education started then when it starts going downhill teachers and parents wonder why the students get depressed. You get told you're going places then it's all in the shitter before you can blink.
Gavin wasn't quite sure where or when he underwent the 'going places' to 'going nowhere' change. Besides he preferred looking back on his best parts. Which Gavin thought was most of them. Though right now he was anything but inspiring.
Somehow managing to make a bite of grossly over-seasoned pizza seem thoughtful, he thought back on how awesome he'd been.
Construction class, or woodwork, whatever, he was great at that! Built a functional weapon out of the random assortment of tools, the school branded it as 'terrifying and violent' but he thought of it as proof of his 'imagination and skill'.
Got some great times in with the teachers too! 'Are we sitting comfortably?' he remembered one asking the class before he raised his hand and used his most innocent voice to say 'No miss, I got worms.' oh wonderful times, the detention was worth it.
Flunked drama class, then again punching the screaming kid in the face wasn't going to help him. Stupid class anyway, heh, that gave the kid something to actually scream about.
Gavin had every confidence in his abilities, they were undeniable, it was just the School system he didn't like he guessed. The violent behaviour landed him in a therapists office. That became boring so quick.
The therapist himself was awful.
Spoke to Gavin in a child's voice. Damn he wasn't stupid but that asshole spoke to him as if he was. He decided that 'fuck therapists' was a good philosophy and he tried to knock some sense into the bastard. Though clearly this guy had dealt with that happening before and had a goddamn taser under his desk, Gavin didn't even know the guy was allowed to have that in a office. Pissed his favorite pair of pants. That asshole.
Got sent to another because it sure helped the first time. Gavin treated that guy as a joke and had some fun the first few sessions, deliberately misspoke words like said 'kilt' instead of 'killed' and watched as the man's nose scrunched up in quiet frustration from behind his glasses. Brilliant. Another game you played was 'count how long it was until the therapist asked about your parents'.
Half a hour into the first session actually.
You told him straight, dad was a arrogant cunt your mother moved back to somewhere in Europe apparently, which you told the therapist was probably a lie, given your dads behavior your mom was probably just some one night stand who dumped you with him before pissing off somewhere else. The therapist noted that down and proceeded to make the next load of sessions all about them.
Though that's what you did most of the time now, go to therapists or anger management classes, it took up most of your time now you ceased being a street thug. Yep. There was something else the therapist latched onto.
What could be said about being a 'unlawful youth'? You mostly messed with some drugs and beat the shit out of whoever you felt like, you didn't care. You still didn't care now but you feel more apathetic about it, beating people up seemed boring right now. The attitude change could also be pinned on said drugs. It was a new thing being spread about, pretty bad shit too as a fair few people had already died from it. The media reported it as 'the latest drug craze to sweep the streets' and it earned the nick name of a 'plasma bath' due to the all-over sensation it gave. As a former, albeit kind of brief, user Gavin could personally agree to such a description. What he meant by 'brief' was that the shit was hard as hell to come by and he got little of it, which was arguably a good thing. Given how the ingredients had dubious origins and the concoction seemed fairly lethal given how quickly it had caused a few deaths. Other than the drugs it was mostly senseless violence which is what you became known for quite quickly in your home town, obviously you wern't there any more, with a reputation like yours it was safer to just leave.
Said reputation had earned you the nickname of "Cheshire". You grinned like mad when you were beating someone to a bloody pulp this lead to a altercation with a street gang where they decided to take your nickname to the next level, and well you now wore just a bit of make up every day so the scars around your mouth wern't so visible. If you had it your way you would wear nothing at all to hide the scar but it was when people started staring at you. That made you visibly twitchy and jumpy and close to violent behaviour again.
Disgruntled murmuring brought your attention back to the dirty table, littered with food boxes and empty cups, where the now empty pizza box joined the mess.
"'Sup Scourge" you greeted the mangy cat that had crawled in through an open window. Scourge sniffed the air and looked as disgusted as a feline could be, the cat never liked the smell of the garlic. Scourge wasn't even your cat he just appeared every now and then, made you wish you were a cat. No therapists, getting to go where ever, eat whatever, shit whenever and sleep for as long as you liked.
Your aspirations right now wern't aiming high, though you once claimed to a pre-school teacher you would 'rule the world'.
Gavin laughed out loud startling Scourge. He didn't even understand anything he'd just thought about almost as if he was reading some garbage and tossed the remnants of the crust back into the box.
He guessed he'd better get some clothes on.
Hoisting his body off his seat he glanced around his scarcely decorated domicile and located the pile of, hopefully, clean clothes in-between a few stolen street signs you refused to let go of and a stack of CDs. Pulling on a pair of tatty denims Gavin rummaged around the pile for his favourite, a black band t-shirt proudly displaying the band's name in garish colours "Unicron's head" it said above the image of a decapitated demons skull that seemed to be floating in space. They were a 80's-style rock band and he couldn't get enough of their music. Applying the shirt to his body Gavin grasped the only piece of clothing he truly loved. A now rather battered purple leather jacket.
It matched the purple colour he had dyed into his hair too, hair that used to be fairly tame but now looked as if he was the victim of a particularly bad electrical shock. Only permanent. Not that he didn't care about his hair, he still kept the dye in, he just never bothered to do much else with it apart from brush and dye although given how liberally said dye was often applied Gavin had probably permanently dyed it that way.
Gavin was dressed. Now what.
He hadn't thought that far ahead.
Again.
Scourge had lost interest and was crawling back out the window again.
Yeah.
Let's just go out. A walk. Yes.
Yanking the door handle Gavin strolled out the building with all the grace of a moody shoebill bird. Fantastic. The day was off to a brilliant start, damn sun too bright, air too hot, birds too loud Gavin could go on with this. Kicking a can on the lawn he shuffled around back keeping his head down and away from the sunlight.
"Hello pig" he muttered to his other 'pet'.
Pig was a Cow.
It was penned in by a half-rotten wooden fence and had been there longer than he had, for all her knew it probably didn't even have a owner. Pig lazily hung its head over the fence demanding a pat with a soft moo. It got it's pat and trotted off done with the human.
Right okay. time to actually walk somewhere.
Gavin kept his eyes down. The sun was bright, reflections off the windows were irritating and lord knows he'd probably punch someone if they made eye contact with him.
Slinking into the park he placed himself down onto a shady bench and stared at the leaves above him and the tiny rivulets of soft light that leaked between them.
Sitting in a dim apartment wearing nothing but hole-filled underwear and socks, eating garlic pizza was clearly the perfect time to reflect back on his life.
Rather fucking shit.
He was a student that was 'going places'.
Bullshit.
Every student got fed that crap from the day education started then when it starts going downhill teachers and parents wonder why the students get depressed. You get told you're going places then it's all in the shitter before you can blink.
Gavin wasn't quite sure where or when he underwent the 'going places' to 'going nowhere' change. Besides he preferred looking back on his best parts. Which Gavin thought was most of them. Though right now he was anything but inspiring.
Somehow managing to make a bite of grossly over-seasoned pizza seem thoughtful, he thought back on how awesome he'd been.
Construction class, or woodwork, whatever, he was great at that! Built a functional weapon out of the random assortment of tools, the school branded it as 'terrifying and violent' but he thought of it as proof of his 'imagination and skill'.
Got some great times in with the teachers too! 'Are we sitting comfortably?' he remembered one asking the class before he raised his hand and used his most innocent voice to say 'No miss, I got worms.' oh wonderful times, the detention was worth it.
Flunked drama class, then again punching the screaming kid in the face wasn't going to help him. Stupid class anyway, heh, that gave the kid something to actually scream about.
Gavin had every confidence in his abilities, they were undeniable, it was just the School system he didn't like he guessed. The violent behaviour landed him in a therapists office. That became boring so quick.
The therapist himself was awful.
Spoke to Gavin in a child's voice. Damn he wasn't stupid but that asshole spoke to him as if he was. He decided that 'fuck therapists' was a good philosophy and he tried to knock some sense into the bastard. Though clearly this guy had dealt with that happening before and had a goddamn taser under his desk, Gavin didn't even know the guy was allowed to have that in a office. Pissed his favorite pair of pants. That asshole.
Got sent to another because it sure helped the first time. Gavin treated that guy as a joke and had some fun the first few sessions, deliberately misspoke words like said 'kilt' instead of 'killed' and watched as the man's nose scrunched up in quiet frustration from behind his glasses. Brilliant. Another game you played was 'count how long it was until the therapist asked about your parents'.
Half a hour into the first session actually.
You told him straight, dad was a arrogant cunt your mother moved back to somewhere in Europe apparently, which you told the therapist was probably a lie, given your dads behavior your mom was probably just some one night stand who dumped you with him before pissing off somewhere else. The therapist noted that down and proceeded to make the next load of sessions all about them.
Though that's what you did most of the time now, go to therapists or anger management classes, it took up most of your time now you ceased being a street thug. Yep. There was something else the therapist latched onto.
What could be said about being a 'unlawful youth'? You mostly messed with some drugs and beat the shit out of whoever you felt like, you didn't care. You still didn't care now but you feel more apathetic about it, beating people up seemed boring right now. The attitude change could also be pinned on said drugs. It was a new thing being spread about, pretty bad shit too as a fair few people had already died from it. The media reported it as 'the latest drug craze to sweep the streets' and it earned the nick name of a 'plasma bath' due to the all-over sensation it gave. As a former, albeit kind of brief, user Gavin could personally agree to such a description. What he meant by 'brief' was that the shit was hard as hell to come by and he got little of it, which was arguably a good thing. Given how the ingredients had dubious origins and the concoction seemed fairly lethal given how quickly it had caused a few deaths. Other than the drugs it was mostly senseless violence which is what you became known for quite quickly in your home town, obviously you wern't there any more, with a reputation like yours it was safer to just leave.
Said reputation had earned you the nickname of "Cheshire". You grinned like mad when you were beating someone to a bloody pulp this lead to a altercation with a street gang where they decided to take your nickname to the next level, and well you now wore just a bit of make up every day so the scars around your mouth wern't so visible. If you had it your way you would wear nothing at all to hide the scar but it was when people started staring at you. That made you visibly twitchy and jumpy and close to violent behaviour again.
Disgruntled murmuring brought your attention back to the dirty table, littered with food boxes and empty cups, where the now empty pizza box joined the mess.
"'Sup Scourge" you greeted the mangy cat that had crawled in through an open window. Scourge sniffed the air and looked as disgusted as a feline could be, the cat never liked the smell of the garlic. Scourge wasn't even your cat he just appeared every now and then, made you wish you were a cat. No therapists, getting to go where ever, eat whatever, shit whenever and sleep for as long as you liked.
Your aspirations right now wern't aiming high, though you once claimed to a pre-school teacher you would 'rule the world'.
Gavin laughed out loud startling Scourge. He didn't even understand anything he'd just thought about almost as if he was reading some garbage and tossed the remnants of the crust back into the box.
He guessed he'd better get some clothes on.
Hoisting his body off his seat he glanced around his scarcely decorated domicile and located the pile of, hopefully, clean clothes in-between a few stolen street signs you refused to let go of and a stack of CDs. Pulling on a pair of tatty denims Gavin rummaged around the pile for his favourite, a black band t-shirt proudly displaying the band's name in garish colours "Unicron's head" it said above the image of a decapitated demons skull that seemed to be floating in space. They were a 80's-style rock band and he couldn't get enough of their music. Applying the shirt to his body Gavin grasped the only piece of clothing he truly loved. A now rather battered purple leather jacket.
It matched the purple colour he had dyed into his hair too, hair that used to be fairly tame but now looked as if he was the victim of a particularly bad electrical shock. Only permanent. Not that he didn't care about his hair, he still kept the dye in, he just never bothered to do much else with it apart from brush and dye although given how liberally said dye was often applied Gavin had probably permanently dyed it that way.
Gavin was dressed. Now what.
He hadn't thought that far ahead.
Again.
Scourge had lost interest and was crawling back out the window again.
Yeah.
Let's just go out. A walk. Yes.
Yanking the door handle Gavin strolled out the building with all the grace of a moody shoebill bird. Fantastic. The day was off to a brilliant start, damn sun too bright, air too hot, birds too loud Gavin could go on with this. Kicking a can on the lawn he shuffled around back keeping his head down and away from the sunlight.
"Hello pig" he muttered to his other 'pet'.
Pig was a Cow.
It was penned in by a half-rotten wooden fence and had been there longer than he had, for all her knew it probably didn't even have a owner. Pig lazily hung its head over the fence demanding a pat with a soft moo. It got it's pat and trotted off done with the human.
Right okay. time to actually walk somewhere.
Gavin kept his eyes down. The sun was bright, reflections off the windows were irritating and lord knows he'd probably punch someone if they made eye contact with him.
Slinking into the park he placed himself down onto a shady bench and stared at the leaves above him and the tiny rivulets of soft light that leaked between them.
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