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Cardboard Cutouts
By OrwellRedenbacherCreated: 2024-07-01 19:22:16
Updated: 2024-08-05 22:14:29
Expiry: Never
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1.
>"What is it this time?"
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2.
"No good, not now. I need to review it sober, and then it'll probably still suck."
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3.
>"Why review when you could just post it?"
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4.
"Because to quote Gaben, suck is forever."
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5.
>"You hold yourself in too high of a regard."
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6.
"Why not? I'm one of less than ten people who writes here anymore. I can afford to think highly of myself."
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7.
>"Your last 'stroke of literary genius' was an SCP that's a tranny that splits by mitosis and then fights itself to the death. You're cliche at best."
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8.
>You tack away at the keys with your hooves, a skill that takes fucking millennia to accomplish
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9.
>Sometimes you wish you hadn't taken your own fingers away
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10.
"Cliche is cliche for a reason... there we are. Read it and weep."
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11.
>"A rip-off of Gunslinger Girl with petponies... what the fuck is this?"
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12.
"It's edgy."
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13.
>"You care about more than that now."
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14.
"Try me, I'll hit enter."
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15.
>"Do it, see if I care. But like you said, suck is forever."
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16.
>You let out a string of literal and figurative slurring.
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17.
>Your clone, staring at you as if through the leak, smirks at you.
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18.
>She presses a hoof to your cheek and you feel her pulsing heartbeat
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19.
>"If you call me that, you mean it for yourself too."
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20.
"No, no. I'm even less than you are."
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21.
>"We're both a literary exercise."
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22.
"Damn, I'll bet you feel cool for breaking the fourth wall. Next you'll be begging for anal like that faggot Deadpool."
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23.
>"God is dead and Stan Lee raped his corpse."
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24.
"Amen."
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25.
>The two of you look around the shitty little motel room laboratory
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26.
>True to other you's words, you're in a story.
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27.
>The bunsen burners are lit, but the alcohol flames look like that faux fabric fire shit
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28.
>and everything is just generally desaturated except for the two of you
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29.
>Not that your coats aren't boring damn colors
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30.
"Nothing satisfies you anymore."
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31.
>"You haven't even given the Meslam story a fair shake. It's always some excuse about how you'll get to it when you finish the next thing. Then, just a few minutes ago, I see you digging through archives from 2019 for scraps of some sort of far-flung nostalgia. What the fuck do you think we'll find there?"
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32.
"I don't know! But it's sure as hell got to be better than this rotting corpse of a general. No wonder everyone but you moved on."
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33.
>"and you. Hey, let's get a third clone and we can be the three stooges."
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34.
"Fuck you."
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35.
>"No, fuck you leathermare!"
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36.
>You growl and pounce on her, a knife materializing in your muzzle from nowhere
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37.
>"Woah! Secure contain protect my dude! Didn't know we were cannibalizing ideas."
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38.
"It would be too cliche."
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39.
>"But cliches exist for a reason."
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40.
"Okay, I've changed my mind."
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41.
>You drive the knife into her throat and she grins at you devilishly.
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42.
"Lemme take the fun out of it for you. You were either going to ask if this is suicide or murder, or just say 'I always come back.'"
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43.
>She frowns, then quickly and unceremoniously bleeds out and dies
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44.
>The door breaks down
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45.
>"Mobile task force delta-9, we've got the anomaly on optics."
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"I'll go peacefully. Can't be any worse than here. Have you been briefed on my properties?"
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47.
>They chatter further, clearly not paying your words any attention
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48.
>You sigh, considering rendering enough space for an SCP arc where you try to escape like it's containment breach and you're thumbnail clickbait faggot markiplier
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49.
>But you're tired, it's been a long life
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50.
>So you go willingly into the doggy crate and lay down your head on the single, uncomfortable pillow like a good girl as they walk you out into the non-space parking lot
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51.
>Into oblivion
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52.
End of line.
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PASSWORD: MASTER.
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>You died again
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56.
"Well, that's life..."
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>Stupid bitch, she didn't know you even if she was you
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58.
>Speaking of, where was she?
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59.
>You open up the notebook that's resting between the flask of boiling Temporalase and fuming Bechtel acid
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60.
"Mobile task force arrives, takes the living clone into the void where nothing is written... well, shit. I guess that's why I got brought back"
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61.
>Though you kinda wish the setting hadn't bothered
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62.
>Well, enough of this shit for the night. You've got a long day of being a neet tomorrow.
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63.
>You birth yourself from the realm of fiction you control into the one you don't like a drowned cat gasping for air
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64.
>The process never does lend itself to complacency, especially post-post-mortem
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65.
>You fill up a glass with cold water and drink deeply, a bit spilling down your muzzle and onto your worn hoodie
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66.
>Maybe every stereotype about troons like you is true, but you'll be damned if you admit such a thing
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67.
>Besides, you are biologically female now by pure technicality. The narrative contrivance that brought you to this plane made sure of that.
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68.
>You look in the mirror and groan
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69.
>The mark where she skewered your neck is sticking down, you'll have to wear a scarf from now on
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70.
>In this summer heat? Unpleasant, but at least better than worried questions about your mental health.
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71.
>You almost envy the dead Redenbachers, your clone and your namesake.
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72.
>You rub your hoof against the enchanted notebook, carefully caressing the runes on the surface before you open it to the last page that was written on
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73.
>You think you'll do this next one fully naturally, better the characters don't see you.
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74.
>You hid yourself decently enough behind the veterinary hospital curtains, you think.
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75.
>You pick up your pen and continue where you left off.
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76.
>"Ferri?"
by OrwellRedenbacher
by OrwellRedenbacher
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