A fellow named Greg lived in the basement
of his mothers dingy little house on first street. He suffered from severe
xenophobia, causing him to rarely leave his underground kingdom. He built his
life down there, he had his best friend, Scruffy the dog. He was quite the lackadaisical
fellow, sitting with Scruffy all day long watching soap operas, occasionally
yelling at the television set. This is how Greg found his tranquility, his
peace. Although this had an obvious impact on his mother, who suffered from
severe monophobia. She would try and be with her only son, and he would go
absolutely upside down whenever anyone came down stairs, disturbing Scruffy and
him. Then one day his mother got tired of him, he was a charity case looking
for a free ride, she couldn’t handle it anymore so she kicked him out in the
rain on the curb, without Scruffy. He screams at her “Deodand.” “ That makes
absolutely no sense in this moment” replies his mother. He ran away like an
embarrassed 11 year old girl never too be seen again.
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