Rectal Failure (by SuperBall)

You lose the will to brush off the dirt and worm spit from your shoulders and lie defeated instead of standing tall. How did it come to this? Was there something that you could have done to avoid being sucked into the cave by the land-sphincter or ambushed by worm anuses? Has you entire life just been a series of rectal failures? Maybe if you had gotten up the nerve to ask Myrtle Melroy to Hogwarsh Middle Summer Festival -or maybe if you had not given up on playing the electric violin when your neck fat started getting in the way – then perhaps all would be different.

But a person who has given up can't hold on to regrets. You let parts of your life slip away in increasingly larger steps until you're just a ball of flesh that sleeps and wakes indiscriminately. Your position gradually changes to upright against the worm wall. No, you haven't regained your gumption; the worms have just been slowly reeling you in along their salivary strands. At least your body will be put to good use, become fuel for worm brood for decades to come. Your last thoughts are of luminous, secret, whispering eyes stalking you in the dark – yeah, that would be worm anuses caressing you as you begin your descent into the great unknown.

THE END