In Another World

In Another World:
A story of human nature, morality, and power with twisted humor.















Written by Louie Trasker and Mary Smithlord Tracker



PART 1: Foundings

In another world, Timmy is normal. But in this, he is dead. But you are not. If you wish to differ, you are dumb. However, because he is dead, he can’t do many things. He just is no longer there. But, in another world, he is alive. In that world, he is expected. He is a nice person, except for his manners. He has terrible manners, like you. You are probably an ungrateful little brat, a no-good, money-loving drug addict who likes to vape. Timmy isn’t. You are not Timmy. You are an ungrateful bitch that most of the 8 billion people in the world don’t even know you exist or care about your existence. They don’t care. But in that world, Timmy’s world, he is cared for. That’s because he is the only “normal” person worldwide. Everyone else is either retarded, autistic, or dumb overall. Timmy is normal. He can write his name in English, eat, cook, fix things, and make other people slaves.

He’s excellent at making the dumb population his slaves. His strategy is:

1. Hire them
2. Train them to do what they want
3. Tell them when they will get paid a certain amount of money
4. Make them work
5. Tell them that [whatever junk he has] is the new currency
6. Give them it
7. Wait until they dare to rebel and crush them without any change.
8. Repeat

And with this, Timmy hates obese people. He would like to think that he can stab them, and all their fat will spill out. Like water. It will just spill out. But, there were no fat people because they were too retarded. So he made 10 of his slaves become eating machines and fed them constantly with lard and rendered pork, beef, chicken, and mutton fat. Of course, they were allowed to eat veggies, but he re-educated them so that they thought they were being fed veggies, but they were just eating pig feed. Everything went without a hitch.

When their weight was at an acceptable range, a thousand pounds, he just used a knife and sliced one. On the first one, the fat was stuck to the organs and the skin, but in about 30 seconds, all the organs fell out in a massive heap, rendering the truck of a slave nothing but a waste of space. He ordered the slaves to clean it; perhaps that trash pile could be useful for eating.

On the second subject, it was less fat. But Timmy cut the second obese person open anyway, and the fat spilled like water, just as he predicted. He collected the juices and fed the other slaves.

If you think Timmy is ruthless, perhaps a monster, you’re wrong; you disgust me; he is not bad. You are. He provides his other slaves with a healthy diet. A pound of fruits and veggies, 30 oz of various meats, 50 oz of carbs, and milk or juice to everyone. But just this week, they are being served human meat; the trash of the slicing experiments may be helpful. This will give the slaves enough energy to work because of the high fat of the slaves.

The slaves were given a 12-hour sleep period, more than Timmy. Because the slaves were too retarded to fix anything wrong with the windmills, plumbing, and electricity. He has to fix things overnight. What a kind man. But, sometimes, he goes on a killing spree. The people he mainly kills are the bullies of children or people who talk wrong about others. Using their bodies, he grinds them and feeds them to his earthworms to make fertilizer. Every person, whether alive or dead, has a purpose.

Then, one day, he found a slave that wasn’t retarded, perhaps a gift from the gods. So he freed him and taught him everything he knew so the normal person could help Timmy fix things. The normal person’s name is Jim, and he came from the normal world when he died. Jim helped Timmy build a sports center so that they could force the slaves who were obese to lose weight. Timmy and Jim became smitten, but something happened…

One day, Jim was fixing a mill when an autistic slave went over and tripped over the ladder Jim was using. And Jim fell into the grinder and was crushed to his death. This all happened when Timmy was watching, and now Timmy hates mills. In his rage, he made the family of the murderer see the video of Jim dying and made them work somewhere else. His next order of business is to torture the millers, or Miller Coach, as he called them, to death. He would punch them, whip them, shoot them, slap them, stab them, and all bad things, you, the little brat who is reading this sinned text, can imagine.

Then, he went to most of the births in the hospitals to see if the babies who were being birthed were not retarded. If they are retarded, he puts them into a windmill’s grinder and feeds them to his earthworms to use as fertilizers. He also forced the parents of Jim to have more kids so that they could produce an un-retarded babies. The plan failed, and he dismissed the couple. By dismissing them, he means he gave them a palace and a lot of food—a luxurious life for their services.

Now, let me remind you, Timmy is a regular man. You will never know his woes; he could’ve been a horrible man with no morals or perfect ideals. The only difference between dead Timmy and Timmy in this world is that he has the power to do what he wants.

And in a world where no one is smart enough to know what he is talking about, one can get crazy.

Back to this Timmy, his anger has died; he orders his servants, that were not as retarded, to build a computer that he can use to tell a group of servants to do something directly. The servants worked on it for a month but only made a rubber duck. He sedated them, put them into his grinders, and fed them to his earthworms as fertilizer. No one is getting smarter these days. So many people died that his earthworm mill turned into a factory. The soil around North America (as it is called in the ordinary world) became very fertile.

Timmy also commissioned a lot of poop to fertilizer factories around the world, so the whole world’s soil is filled with shit. But it is good shit that is on the floor, not like your blasted shit. When you go to the toilet, you will spray your shit everywhere and have your wife or (if you are gay) husband clean it up.

Because of the fertile soil, plantations flourished worldwide, and everyone was fed. Except for the prisoners, they were starved to death and beaten up 15 hours a day.

What did the prisoners do to become prisoners? They ate dirt. The fertile dirt. They ate it because they were bored and retarded. When Timmy heard of this, he sentenced them to prison. But don’t think he is cruel; he is not. He has his reasons. The soil has bacteria that help plants decompose; by killing them, fewer plants have nutrients. The soil could benefit the slave plantations, but by eating the soil, fewer crops would be grown, and more people would be hungry.

Most of the reasons his factories break down are because his slaves are too retarded to fix anything and constantly break the machines in his factories, no matter how retarded-proof it is. But he has his ways of enforcing his workers not to damage the machines.

The retarded slaves that break his machines will be put into the grinders in a mill so they will never break anything ever again. Their family and fellow slaves working in the same factory will be re-educated by showing them what will happen if they die the machines and teaching them how to work it. But because they were retarded, it takes a long time to prepare them for it. Fixing the machines is hard, too, as the autistic slaves break them so retardedly that it takes days to fix a simple issue.

The servants who worked on the computers turned the steel factory into a rubber company, except they just replaced the raw iron they should have put in with rubber, which broke the machines and the steel mill. The whole factory was bulldozed by kids (because they like breaking things), and the factory was replaced with a mill to grind the workers that worked there and transport them into the earthworm factory.

That is just one example of the retarded slaves breaking expensive factories, and there are so many that happens. Another time, the retarded slaves got a large stone (don’t ask me how) stuck in the gears in the grinder. So Timmy told the slave workers in the factory to go into the grinder to clean it up, and we would remove the stone. The stone was loose, and all the slaves in the factory were ground into a pulp and fed to the earthworms.

Despite all of Timmy’s kindness to his slaves, they still weren’t satisfied; they wanted better working conditions, even if it was the best. What? Do you think they are justified? No, you are just a whiny brat who thinks they can get anything they want. Be better. The slaves decided to enact a rebellion; however, this rebellion differed from the others. Someone, a diamond in the rough, his name was Dumbo. Between Jim and Timmy, Dumbo was more competent than them, even if only marginally. He disagreed with Timmy, unlike Jim; however, he wanted the slaves to work a better life, without pain, and to be paid with valued items. He gathered all slaves for their purpose.
Factory Workers: The weapons men, as they have materials for weapons and have worked their hands hard.

Plantation Workers: Great for stockpiling food and providing food.

Obese Workers: Great for Meat, Shielding guns, and weapons.

Every other worker: Soldiers who can be sacrificed at any time.

Thus, the war between Dumbo & the Slaves VS Timmy began. It started with a protest of Factory workers refusing to work at their stations. Timmy couldn’t believe them; he tried to bring all of them into their designated grinders. Until Timmy realized the slaves generating energy for the grinders had also quit. Timmy couldn’t think of anything; how could he be defeated? Dumbo emerged from the crowds of slaves.
“You will lose your shackles on us.” Dumbo Said,
“How did you learn my language? I thought you were too dumb to learn anything!” Timmy had said in anguish.
“I am too dumb; however, everyone here, we all did our chip in to help me learn. In fact, we estimate that all of our intelligence is equal to you, my enemy.” Dumbo said to Timmy.
Timmy had nothing; he was powerless to stop the rebellion. Dumbo pitied Timmy, jailing him forever, despite a death sentence being the best.

GODHOOD

A horrible paradise was here; slaves were paid in gold, absolutely horrid. But there was something to salvage; Timmy was still alive, in the Jail. Grabbing a dagger and stabbing the guards, too stupid to do anything and too stupid to create cameras, Timmy escaped. Timmy then took a horse and reached into the empire of Dumbo; Timmy recoiled in disgust; being a forgiving and gifting man, he thought this was too much.

Timmy went into Dumbo's room, Dumbo, however, looked very bored, with nothing to do, nothing to happen. Timmy sneaked behind Dumbo and stabbed him in the back. Timmy knew that Dumbo had gotten rid of all of his hard work and made the slaves think for themselves; he needed to be smarter than this rather than tell his slaves to go back to work. Taking Dumbo's body, he skinned the face off him, putting it on as a fleshy mask. Timmy, Now a new man, was Dumbo. “Dumbo” went to his slaves, telling them all that a new rule was put in place. The slaves seemed obedient, perhaps overly obedient, even more obedient than before. “Hail Dumbo!” they all said in a flurry of voices. “Dumbo” was not used to this until it clicked. Dumbo, in his boredom, became worse than Timmy, making all his slaves believe he was a god.

Then, “Dumbo” Went outside and climbed onto the top of a cliff, and parachuted into the village of the followers. They tell them, “You see me! I am your God! You can not! You WILL obey me. A new rule shall be in place! You are my slaves, and you will not be damned enough to defy me!” Then he said, “You WILL obey me! I am your god!” Timmy then takes off the flesh mask of Dumbo and says, “Your “Dumbo is defeated, and your Dumbo is evil. Dumbo is Dead!” to his surprise, however, the slaves didn’t listen, “Evil! Evil! The apocalypse is here! Enact Plan Destroy!” we may hear what they say, but to Timmy, it was all gibberish; they were too stupid to learn any language. The launched lava and fire over the lands and the sea where the followers live, and soon, not one survived. Timmy, in Dumbos office, found a paper, it read. “Plan Destroy:
If the evil one (Timmy) is ever released, never let him control us, no matter what.
No matter what, take your lava bucket and pour it on yourself; this will kill all of us, letting Timmy never accept us.”
And so the soil is burnt, and earthworms are released into the land to eat the flesh and create a better soil that could be planted with plants for food. While Dumbo wins the war, the world is still Timmy; he gets to control everything. Timmy, now having a mess to clean up, was stricken looking at his profits; Dumbo’s new payment rates for his slaves being through the roof put Timmy in a lot of debt. So he told the slaves that burnt humans were the new currency, and they could have all they wanted.

Well, what they thought they wanted. Every slave who could think for themselves was in Dumbo’s Cult, meaning all of them were dead now. Every living slave was as dumb as a brick. Timmy could easily reeducate them, teaching them that trash and junk were valuable again. They listened, and the routine became normal again, good.

Everyone was happy except Timmy. This is because there hadn’t been anything to do; for every answer Timmy wanted, he got it. That was until Timmy got word that his planet had a group of unsubordinates. A group of retarded (that was what he called the retarded people) was trying to get more rights. So he flew down to what would be North Korea; in this world, it was named The Great Nation. When he got there, he stopped anyone from leaving the area and gave them junk as money. He whipped them, forcing them to eat until they could not move, and started beating them.

Screams of agony can be heard in the hallways of the detention camps. People were being whipped, beaten, punched, stabbed, and electrocuted by machines. Timmy did not want another Dumbo on the Rise. They were cut open to feed the population of the planet. He called the meat “High-nutrient chicken,” stuffed them with feces, and forced everyone to eat it. Well, was forced the best word? In the slaves' delusions made by Timmy, the slaves believed that it was high-nutrient chicken, making their tongue taste great-quality chicken.

Then he gathered half the world’s population (about 100,000 because most were too dumb to have kids) and made them start working. He also enforced strict laws that said that if you break a machine, then you will be killed by that machine.

One person in the plastic department burnt his hand with the plastic squirter. Then he dropped the squirt gun; the plastic had broken, destroying the control board. The control board was costly, yet he broke it. But, the control board cameras saw who made the mistake, so Timmy ejected him into the plastic melter, and he was burned until he died.

Another time, Timmy saw some retards working in the whipping mill and was increasing the speed of the whips that were whipping the people. But he spilled tea onto the control panel, and the whippers stopped. The slaves were mistakenly freed, so the person who made the mistake was whipped at the highest speed possible on the whipper, and he got so hot he started smoking and either died of burns or starvation.

This new law seemed great; any slave got to die from the mistake they made. However, this didn’t seem all that it came to be. When a Retard with great strength and a degraded mental state found a machine built for making metal. The Retard, named [REDACTED], had destroyed the machine, making it far gone, too shattered to be fixed into its normal working conditions. This meant it couldn’t be fixed into a torture device, either. Timmy didn’t know what to do, and he had fired all slaves whose job was to whip criminals. Timmy had overthought overthinking, as [REDACTED] charged at Timmy, making him black out. Timmy may be brilliant, but brute force can kill.

THE WRATH OF ONCE WAS
Timmy, now finally waking up, was injured but not dead. He knew reeducating his slaves not to build hospitals and not care for others that are dying was a bad idea, yet he still did it. Timmy was still in shock; he was semi-fine with Dumbo winning; after all, he outsmarted Timmy. But this person won by stupidity; they won by charging at him and not doing a single intelligent thing. How could he? How could he? Timmy had thought he was as angry as anyone could be!

But what could he do?

“That thing could’ve escaped by now!” Timmy thought. Unlike Dumbo, he didn’t have a location most knew; every slave didn’t have an area; they were always at their workplace. But he never thought they would just escape their work post.

“How idiotic! I’ve had so many workers rebel, yet, I had never thought of such a stupid idea of brute forcing escape!” Timmy screamed into the abyss of his routine work area. In defeat, he returned to his office, permanently defeated, for the first time.

Timmy never noticed, the faceless corpse of Dumbo, still there, as if he never died; it felt as if he was mocking him.

“Hah! And you were humiliated by a mentally ill, muscular, Idiot! You’re getting weak.” Timmy felt the body saying to him,

“I’ll show you who’s the idiot! You were defeated by said person who got defeated by a brainless muscular infant!” Timmy replied to the body. Now realizing he hadn’t slept, Timmy decided to take his mind off things by sleeping.

There he dreamed of a time when Dumbo had killed Timmy rather than imprisoned him. Timmy, having noticed for once in his life, happiness, real happiness, not happiness formed by Timmy workers, but genuine happiness. It was of a sanitation worker, a job Timmy always hated.
“Muck and dirt, I’m lucky it’s a dumb enough task for my retards to do.” Timmy had thought the sanitation worker was cleaning the floor happily. It was then Timmy woke up. The corpse of Dumbo was once again quiet. So Timmy got up and sent a sanitation worker who looked very similar to the one in the dream home with a lot of food. Timmy, in his madness, went on a killing spree. He was now armed with a machine gun he had built secretly one day long ago.

The next day, he traveled to China and started shooting everyone. The rice farmers, the factory slaves, and retarded hospitals. Then he skinned everyone and made a giant rug from the dried skin. Timmy then placed it in front of the [REDACTED] shack and spray-painted, “This is what happens if you disobey me” in red paint.

[REDACTED] then came out and tried to throw a fight with Timmy. But Timmy used his machine gun and shot him so much that he became a pulp. The juices of the victim were put into a blender with fat and fed as hamburger buns to the neighboring villages. So the people ate the meat and were found to like this “new meat,” so Timmy went to work. He set up a gym that forces all people in North Korea to eat a lot of fat and chicken to give them a lot of energy so that they have a lot of muscle they like to eat. They were about the same fitness as [REDACTED]; we will soon see this was a mistake. Their meat was too tender, like wagyu, so they were whipped 10 hours a day to make it more rough.

They were then skinned and blended. Their skin was roasted to have a crunchy texture, and fat was added to make it more juicy. It was then mixed up and toasted, fried, or baked to be fed to the people. The people rejoiced while being provided with “Good Meat 2.0.”

Everyone was strong, and everyone was happy. The retarded slaves were soon too delighted and were noticed by Timmy. Timmy was mad at this; he thought they would get bored with other meat since they were so happy, meaning his old meat would be inferior. So, Timmy decided to murder all slaves out of line with their opinions on meat and then skin them. With the skin, he fried it until it was crispy and fed it to the slave workers. And he took the shit out of the workers and deep-fried them and fed them as chips to the slaves. The slaves saw it and threw up. So Timmy tied them up and forced them to eat it by pushing their mouths open and fed them using a stick to stuff it all into their stomach.

Then, he took the insides of the humans he murdered and cut them up. He removed the bones so the meat would still have the same texture as the original. He decided not to bland it up and boiled the human with water and salt. He put it in a large can full of vinegar when it was half cooked and pickled the humans. In about a month, he took the meat out and fed it to the people in Mexico.

The people in Mexico are known to be a bit on the obese side. And by that, it means that they were two thousand pounds overweight. So when Timmy visited the autistic and retarded slaves in Mexico, the slave could only sleep all day and eat. So he forced his servants to roll the Mexicans to the beating machine and beat and whipped them until they were in shape. Then, once a week, they were allowed to eat meat. But because the slaves were either autistic or retarded, they didn’t know what this means. So the slaves just didn’t eat, making Timmy mad. So he started beating them 16 hours a day and forcing them to go onto the Mexican deserts to run five hours a day. But if they could not run fast enough, they would be beaten every night for fifteen more minutes and forced to run an extra mile.

Because of this rule, many slaves died of exhaustion or were generally too fat. The corpses were being ground up and fed to the earthworms, sure, but Timmy didn’t like this; more deaths equaled fewer beatings or health “classes.” What could he do?

THE THING

““Aha!” Timmy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he suddenly thought of an ingenious idea. What if, just maybe, he could invent the miraculous power of immortality to keep the slaves alive, even after they endured the most brutal tortures and punishments?”

Now, let me get this straight: alive, not indestructible. The immortality Timmy was looking for was something that kept you alive, yet you could still feel pain and be on your last legs. Maximum pain. So much pain that it would drive the slaves insane, even if they already were. So much that they just stopped moving, but they were still forced to. So much that they just explode, not precisely explode, more like they deflate into a thing of flesh. They will still be alive, but barely alive, just conscious enough to hear but not see. Just enough to feel pain but not pleasure.

“How could I achieve such a thing!” Timmy spouted in his office.

“Nobody even hears me, can somebody just listen to me for once?” Timmy looks at the corpse of Dumbo.


Then, a person walks through Timmy’s room and says, “I can talk to you, but you must pay me fifty dollars per hour!” Timmy was interested in the proposition.


The thing saying it was very shaky, wearing the mask of a crying puppy. He seemed physically transparent, even spirit-like. The thing raised his hand.

“Deal?”

Timmy shook it and said, “Oh, even God is on my side!”


The thing said, “Great, now our meetings will be interesting.” The thing disappeared.


Timmy then hit himself, and he woke up. But he lost fifty dollars when he logged on to his bank account. Now his perfect trillion is nine hundred ninety-nine billion nine hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred fifty.

The thing appeared once more, “Well, you took the deal? Didn’t it? Haha…”

“Help me in the office, alright?” Timmy answered.


Timmy then toured the thing, showing his many things, a shelf made by Dumbo, the walls, and the empty desk that in our world should have a computer there. The thing said, “I know how to make a computer.”


Timmy was angered, “Did you just make up a new word without my permission? I am not to be played with!”


Timmy tried to shoot the thing, but the bullet passed right through it and into an old picture of Dumbo. Then the thing said, “I can not die, as I am already dead. The word ‘Computer’ is already created before you came into this world.”

Timmy then said, “What else don’t I know?”

“There are endless things you don’t know. But you don’t need to know them because I am the last unretarded person before you. I want to talk to you because we are very similar; we both like to torture people and rule our supremacy over the retards.”

“Well, one thing differentiates us: I’m smarter,” Timmy said sarcastically.

“You are not. In fact, according to the computer, we have the same level of intelligence as all the ones that came before me. We both have the same IQ of 150, and we both were killed because of an accident involving a phone when we were boarding a train. It’s a vicious cycle but an enjoyable one.”

“I’m glad that these retards and slaves were being tortured every single part of their history. But one thing that I don’t understand is that why are we chosen to torture these retards? I am not saying I don’t like my job, but I just wanted to know the reason.”

“Let me ask a question to counter yours: do you remember where you were born?”

Timmy thought for a second, “I don’t remember being birthed, but I do remember dying and appearing in this world, one thing I am glad about though is that I didn’t end up in a world where my job is to act nice to everyone because they are smarter than me.”

“Heh, heh, well, you’ll learn soon enough that maybe being the leader is a prison, I know it’s your destiny, but watch out for phones. You’ll see.”

“What do you mean? Can you explain? I am unaware we were chosen into this world but by chance.”

“All I can say is,” the thing had to think for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Remember Jim, ground in a grinder, rage bundled up, all grinders destroyed, yes? Well, Jim, let's just say he was someone more special than you, in a way. And with that, our contract appears to be over. You’ll be in this position soon, Tim.”

The Thing's mask broke before the Thing seemed to undergo torturous pain before fading away. The computer the thing instructed Timmy to build was now gone. Timmy felt himself fall asleep, and when he awoke. He was back at his office, and he checked his watch, the same time when the thing had given the deal. Everything was the same; only the thing was gone.

Timmy, confused, looked around; something felt wrong. Empty desk, check. Clean walls, check. The rotting corpse of Dumbo, check. What was wrong? He saw that there was strange dust on the floor. He collects the dust and puts it into a jar. Timmy then thinks for a bit. The thing wore a mask, but when he left, his mask seemed to break.

Aha, the dust must be the remainder of the mask that fell. So Timmy took the jar and went to a retarded slave and made them make a mask mold for him. The mold was finished an hour later, and he melted the powder. The powder was made of gallium, so it was easy to melt. It was poured into the mold, and after it was cooled, he placed it onto the spot where the thing disappeared.

But, one minute went by, then another minute, and soon 10 minutes went by. An hour, or 2 hours, nothing happens. Timmy decided to go to bed. The day was over. The thing was still not there. Out of sheer boredom, Timmy put on the crying puppy's mask. And he saw that he could see through walls, and a computer was on his desk. He took off the mask, and the computer was no more. Suddenly, a loud “Hey!” echoed through the rooms, and Timmy dropped the mask onto the floor. He couldn’t hear the “Hey!” anymore. Timmy passed out on the floor out of sheer shock alone.

After an hour or two, Timmy “woke up” and was shocked to see the thing was staring at him. The Thing screamed, “Ahh,” Sarcastically.

The thing then stood up with its ghostly body. The thing said, “That's what happens when you take my mask.” Timmy was mad and said, “Well, you are the one who left it here!”
“Since when did I tell you? Never mind, you know Tim, I also once did that. When it was my turn to be in the spotlight. 89 Decades ago. It’s crazy to believe, but time moves way slower here than in the world of the undead people.”

“So, what’s so special about Jim?” Timmy asked the thing.

“I’m not the wisest when it comes to being a ghost, but I will tell you this: when it was my turn for the spotlight, my Jim never happened. I had my Dumbo, his name was Gertrude, I also had that brute. I’m not the best with my memories, so I don’t remember his name. But I know I had, ‘eliminated’ him, much like yours, but not exactly, but very similar.”

“So, how did you kill him? I need ideas on how to find more ways to kill someone.”

“Now, don’t expect me to be your advisor, but I feel obliged to give you a hint: when you kill them, don’t make others want to kill you.”


“Then I just secretly murder them? What is the fun of that? I want the people to see what I can do. And the retards probably aren’t smart enough to know what is killing. Heck, most of them can’t even have kids!” Timmy said madly.

“Do you think so? Wouldn’t they be smart enough to know the idea of ‘killing’? We may be equal in intelligence, but wiseness is not the same as intelligence. I’m much more superior in wiseness, and that wiseness tells me that your people have advanced. You may have not noticed it, but they are getting smarter. At the beginning of your reign, they probably wouldn’t know a singular thing, much less the idea of murder. But now, they’ll know something. Possibly murder even.”

“Then do I need to castrate the people so that the smarter ones will die out, and the dumber ones will survive?”

“Heh, as if. Tim, you must realize that the dumber ones don’t exist anymore. Everyone is the smarter one. As people grow more intelligent, you have to beat them at their own game. Outplay them, outsmart them, defeat them in a way they destroy themselves.”

“How would I do that? With only 150 IQ, I am the only average intelligence in the world of alive people. Sure, I could reeducate or hit them in the head so they become dumb again. But that would only waste my precious time.”

“Again, they are too bright to be simply dumbed down. By now, they probably realize the idea of ‘skeptically’; they’ll question your reeducation, meaning the reeducation won’t affect them.”

“So the only way to dumb them down is to what?”

“There is no easy way to dumb people down. You have to face it; your victims are starting to grow. Remember Dumbo? He even won for a second there, and he and his people were the lower half of intelligence. You can’t stop intelligence.”

“So the only way for me to rule is by ‘resetting’ the population, or can we slow down their advancement?”

“Why do you think I’m dead? Think about it. I tried the solution you just mentioned. That’s why your people's intelligence reset when you came in. What happened was that when I killed the majority of the species, the people took me down with them. The cycle repeats once again.”

“So are you saying that Jim might be the only way to end this cycle, but a retarded slave killed him?”

“Well, Jim was a reason the cycle repeated, but he could also serve as a way to stop it. But yes, I would say the ending of Jim was unfortunate. I’m sorry, Tim, but I believe this is a failed attempt to stop the cycle. A one-in-a-million chance, a smart slave, yet wasted on a grinder. Goodbye, Timmy; I won’t be seeing you again any time soon.”

The Thing, instead of the mask breaking, disappeared into nothingness. It wasn’t much time later when Timmy woke up for real. Then Timmy got an idea. He could free a person in the slave community, a person near his homeland, and teach him many things, and one in particular is that slavery is good and retarded people should be tortured but respected.

How is he supposed to pick a person to be freed? Timmy walked around in circles while pressing random buttons on his control board. He suddenly thought of an idea—IQ tests.

Even though IQ tests are complex, Timmy used all his knowledge to make an IQ test. The making of this test took ten months, but finally, he had a perfect version of it. He then sent out the tests into people’s homes in North America and ordered the no-killing of slaves.

THE TRAINING

Many took the tests, and the results, while higher than Timmy expected, weren’t much. The average number of slaves was only 54. Some scored 70; a few scored 80. But few achieved a 90 or above. Timmy knew he had to train one of his slaves to no longer be retarded. He sent books on math and reading and even a book that taught them how to read or write in the first place to the smartest slave. However, the price of the books was relatively high—50 dollars for each. That would take a slave 50 years to get enough to buy a book. He ordered some slaves, whom he chose not to become competent in, to make a counter for how many books would be purchased.

Days went by, 72 to be exact before a counter went up by one, but slowly, each counter for each book went up by one. A singular slave, one that accumulated 250 people to give away a year's salary to afford each book through empty promises and empty debts. The slave, after learning all the books, named himself “Jonathan.” He was as bright as he knew he could be.

Meanwhile, Timmy debated whether to re-release the IQ test or give up on the ordeal. In the end, he decided to release another one, and six months later, when he had taught John everything he knew, the results came in. A girl named was the second smartest, named “Thorne.” She had an IQ of 130. While the first, “Johnathan,” Had a staggering 140. A bit less than Timmy. Timmy knew what to do; he would put Thorne and Johnathan in a battle of wits and intelligence.

Timmy set up a ring with the help of many slaves; he specifically picked ones with 20 IQ or lower to keep them from questioning. Timmy thought, “What would the thing think of this? It would probably say,' I don’t believe this is a good idea, Tim.’”

“Heh, you’ll see, my masked friend, you’ll see.” Timmy thought.

The battles will be separated into three categories. Each one would be 210 minutes. The first one would be math, then language, and then leadership. John and Thorne will be given questions during those 210 minutes: 50 Minimum Questions.

The guidelines were plastered everywhere. The intelligence tests would begin in 31 days, with only a month to prepare. Timmy gave Thorne and John enough time to study and rehearse.


Thorne would study using flash cards.

John would study using books that included the information.


Feeling competent and ready, they decided to do the tests a week early. Six hundred thirty minutes passed, and more than 10 hours passed that day for them.
The results were out! Timmy graded the answers and gave feedback while allowing Thorne and John to kill as many as they pleased for stress relief.


Neither Thorne nor John killed any. What fools, stupid like you. You probably got an F in your High School Final, but your parents bribed the university to get you in. You’re pathetic and probably didn’t even get into a university.


Thorne got a 60% on Math, 86% on Language, and 103% on Leadership due to extra points on the test for such good answers. John did better in Math than Thorne; he got 107% due to his adding in-depth explanations for each problem. John got 85.42% on language, which is the same. And a poor 58.9% on Leadership, his ideals on what to do were relatively poor.

Timmy thought John and Thorne were good people and ensured they were treated well. Timmy gave all of them lessons on torture and murder every day and had hands-on lessons. There was also math, language, and leadership every day. But not the type of leadership you would expect. It was the type of question like, “Would you rather freeze someone then grind them or skin them then burn them?” Of course, the correct answer is to skin them and then burn them because freezing will cause minor pain, and less pain is terrible.

The first lesson after the battles is how to create new torturing devices. They are designed to inflict as much pain on the retarded slaves as possible. Especially on the obese ones. They don’t deserve to exist. In a classroom, at least ten retired prisoners are in a cell. This is so that John and Thorne can have Hands-on lessons. One day, Thorne and John created a heat gun that heated up slowly so that the slave’s skin could burn very slowly and be fried to a crisp. The remainder can be fed to people as a substitute for other meats.

“I don’t know if this is a great way to be a leader…” John questioned. Of course, he would; it makes sense, considering he only got a 58 on leadership.

The second lesson was math. To create complex torture devices, they have to be highly proficient in math. But soon, they found there wasn’t much to learn, so they went on a murder surge instead. They flew with the plane they built and went to an island south of Asia. The people there were the utmost retarded, as the outside world did not contact them. Well, only Thorne did the mass murder. John still questioned; it seemed that his ideals of leadership were still relatively poor.

“This is wrong! We shouldn’t kill people!” John yelled.

“This is why you had a 58 in leadership, Johnny,” Thorne told John bluntly while heating that part of Asia to 500 degrees.

You might be wondering. “Oh, oh, why is Thorne so fine with this?” you whine while holding your iPad with your baby's hands. But I am obligated to answer even the stupidest of questions. You see, back when Thorne was a little girl, she was abused as a child. Being hit, being told she was nothing but a speck. Well, I guess she couldn’t be told anything, everyone’s too retarded to say anything.

This had sparked a fire in Thorne that couldn’t be put out. She wanted revenge, to torture others. But she didn’t want to torture Timmy; she respected him, but others couldn’t understand her angle. They were simply more stupid. So, she wanted revenge on the slaves and made them scream and feel pain.

This fire was evoked more when one day. She found a bookshelf in Timmy’s office, holding only two books. “Dumbo and You” by Dumbo Lordhead and “101 Rituals for dealing with Ghosts: You Could do it too!” by ████████.

She read about Dumbo. Not knowing that the corpse in his office was him all along. She had thought Timmy called the corpse Dumbo just because he was rubbing it in the corpse's body and that he was better. She saw the horrors that were Dumbo's short reign. Closing the book, she was furious. She had to make a machine so torturous that the entire continent of Eurasia would feel her wrath. But she couldn’t do this alone. She needed smarts, and that would be John.

“Hey, Johnny, it was Johnny, right?” Thorne said as she came into John’s training room.

“Jonathon, what do you want?” John asked while reading a book.

“So, you think you could help in a project? A small one, a minuscule one, just a simple heat gun.”

“Now, why should I help you, miss?” John replied.

“Maybe we could get points from Master Timmy,”

“Oh please, Timmy isn’t going to help us; he is going to want us to work on it by ourselves as a small project. And stop calling him master. You aren't his slave.”

“Just, come with me, alright? I need your help with this.”

Thorne grabbed John into a workroom. She handed John some blueprints.

“Look, here’s the architecture for it, but I need your help with some simple equations to get the build on it just right.”

The equations were relatively easy. Something like X^2 = y
Y = -1. What is X? Or (2[3x + 89y]+9z-4d)/(b - [3/6 + x])

But John spotted some errors in her design. How quickly she made it, as it was a sloppy design. The cooling doesn’t have enough power, and the heat will quickly melt the plastic. The over-temperature cut-out switch is missing, so it might explode, killing John and Thorne.

“You going to solve it or not? If not, I’m going to have to give you motivation.” She locked the door and threw the key into a pit of lava next to the heat gun.


“Solve the equations, or else you are dying of hunger in this room!” Thorne said

“Fine, but remember to give me credit.”

John solved the equations and fixed the heat gun's design to ensure it wouldn’t blow up.

“Hah, now that's what I call a heat gun!” Thorne quickly made the gun easily, putting the prints in her pockets for later. She then pointed the finished heat gun at John.

“Uh, what are you doing?” John said,

“You think I’m that stupid? Of course, I’m not just going to let you out. You were a slave, after all. I still have unfinished business with your kind.”

“I need to remind you, you were a slave too, why don’t you kill yourself, huh?”

John took out his windgun and shot the heat gun out of her hands.

“Who do you think I am? I’m not an idiot!” She started running after the heat gun.

John used his wind gun and shot the heat gun into the tub of lava. “Now you will never kill me!”

John then shot the door open and reported Thorne to Timmy.

Timmy called Thorne and asked her, “What the fuck are you doing, trying to kill your almost brother? He is way smarter than you in the way of math. He can calculate things so quickly that you are just a blister in his thumbs. Stay out of trouble; there will be punishment next time. But for now, your punishment shall be John taking credit; he will own the design.”

“Alright, I’ll stay out of trouble,” Thorne replied, but she heard gibberish. She dismissed it as her imagination.

In reality, she had a lot of ideas.

“Heh, I still have the blueprints for the gun. I can still make Eurasia suffer! But how will I do it without Timmy nor John noticing?” She thought.

Timmy noticed a blue paper.

“One thing, hand back the blueprint to me, so I know you won’t do anything with it. I am sure John won’t trust you from now on. If someone is just a bit smarter than the slaves, they will know not to trust you.”

“Not like he trusted me anyway,” Thorne muttered. She was about to hand Timmy the blueprints when she noticed something. The Blueprints were gone.

Timmy replied, “He has always trusted you. That’s why he helped you. But you destroyed his trust in you. Don’t think he will help you anytime soon. Now, are you going to give me the prints or not?”

“Wait, what? I can’t find them! Where are they? What!”

In the distance, she saw a figure slip out of the window, a blur of purple and some blue. Someone had stolen the prints while she was talking with Timmy.

‘What do you mean, someone stole them!? Well, we better find it. Jonathan!” Timmy screamed.

Jonathan entered, saying, “Don’t worry, we will find it. I put a tracker in the blueprint in case Thorne didn’t want to give the design back to me.”

“What a smart idiot you are, Johnny. I should’ve taken the chance to kill you.” Thorne muttered quietly.

“I heard that!” said Timmy, ‘Now, apologize.”

“What? I didn’t hear anything?” Thorne replied,

“You know what you said; now apologize, or you will be put in the coal room for an hour. We unretards deserve respect. And Johnathan isn’t getting any from you. He gave you respect, but you took advantage of it.”

“Unretards deserve respect from other unretards; hmm, I don’t think that was the same with Dumbo.”

“How do you kno-.” Timmy sighed. “Dumbo is different; he was competent, not smart. Now, are we just going to banter, or are we going to find the prints!”

The three exited the palace and used Johnathan’s phone to track the location of the print.

“It seems it is going to be brought towards the mountains.” John commented.

So the group got onto Timmy’s truck and went towards the location.

John and Thorne took out their machine guns and shot at retards during the trip. The retards screamed and were eaten by earthworms. More fertile land!

“Oh, look at mister, ‘this isn’t right!’ over here, and I thought you were a wimp who couldn’t kill. I guess I’ll start respecting you more then.” Thorne said to John. John didn’t reply.

John then looked at the location and saw the tracker had been stopped in a field. They got out of the truck and saw that there wasn’t anyone around the field. But there was a track in the grass, so they entered it. John saw a flickering light in the grass and went over and picked it up. It seemed as though it had been ripped out.

“I just realized that’s why the stupid tracker wasn’t moving the whole time! I thought that bastard was just camping somewhere!” John said in anger.

“Well, we better follow the track and try to kill the bitch. When we get a hold of him, we’re going to make his death as painful as possible.” Thorne said.



PART 2: Rebellions
Hello, as the person reading to the retarded person you are. I shall be taking my leave from now on, well, for now at least. This shall be in the POV of the robber.

“Hah, what fools they are,” I said in my language. I’m not the most intelligent person; I can’t understand a word of the gibberish our torturers say. I put on the footage of the camera I hacked. Looking at the footage, I could tell they were pretty occupied.


“Eureka! They’ll never find out anything about me anytime soon!”

I walked over to an old photo of my Grandfather; he knew the Torturer's language.

“Oh, gramps, I’ll make you proud,” I said.

I went into the palace and slowly inched my way into the office. The funny thing is, there was no guard around, even though it seemed to have a guard’s bedroom. I studied the room and soon found a crawl space behind the giant bookshelves with only one book. It was “Dumbo and You” by Dumbo Lordhead or my grandfather. Well, that's what the elders told me the book was called. I never learned to read. I thought even the Torturer admired my grandfather, but I was wrong. Their leader was shooting bullets into my grandfather’s portrait.

“Aim for the print.” I said. I was strolling towards one of the traitors. I trusted she would be a big part of the rebellion. I never thought she would go against our entire idea! She was my grandfather’s grandniece, but she betrayed him. So much that he died! It's all just for a bit of privilege. So I dashed towards her, took the blueprint while no one was looking, and ran to the window. I jumped off; it was a bit sloppy. Someone could have seen it, but is that anything in the scheme?

I ran off; it wasn’t until looking at the point when I thought it was safe in a grassy plain that I saw something.

“Now, what's that flashing thing?” I didn’t know what it was, and a light being made so small was beyond me. But I thought it might be dangerous and had better rip it out. So I did. But part of the paper was ripped out when I ripped it out. I didn’t think it was necessary, so I kept running.

That's when I thought I heard some gunshots in the distance. How did they know where I was? It must be the light! Such an idiot of me! So I kept running. I ran and ran until I got to Rebelliaÿ.

The only land that the Torturer didn’t control.

I went into my shack and shut the fence. I might be too slow! Whatever, it’ll take them a bit to find the place. I go over to the elders and show them the blueprints.

“By the gods of Dumbo! You have found it! You really are the chosen one!” The elders said in the loudest voice they could muster.

“Yeah, I found the prints, what about it?” I said.

“This print could be the key to our freedom. It seems as though it is a heat gun. And a great one indeed. He can use it to stop the torturers!”

How I managed to complete this feat, I don’t know. I started as a young boy in my village. Most of the people with gray hair were grounded because they served no use to the torturers. If I have any regrets, it's eating the new “meat” the torturers produced right after. Anyway, I spent most of my life as a slave. The only memories I had back then were memories of seeing my parents die, along with everyone around me, due to something called the “Destroy Plan” or something like that.

Some people came into the ruins, and I was scared out of my mind seeing my parents die. They knocked me out, and there I was, in my place as a slave. After, like, ten years, I guess? I was knocked out again randomly while I was working. Now that I think about it, all the times I’ve been transported was by being knocked out. When I woke up, I found myself in Rebelliaÿ. All my time there, I learned about this world's horrible things. This made me want to have revenge on the Torturer and save the ones who have been brainwashed. I trained, I trained, and my agility felt as high as possible. But I knew I was too young to do anything.

I was taught how to be as quiet and quickly as possible. Many tedious lessons were taught to me on how to sneak into places.

Ironically, I just stole the print out of boredom. One thing my teachers never told me was the location of the Torturer. I was adventurous, so I ventured into a large building with an office inside it. There, I saw the torturer and the traitor. That’s when I realized, “Oh shit! This is the building to the Torturer!” I said that in such a quiet voice, you wouldn’t even be able to hear it when put through a speaker.

The Traitor used to play with me when I was tiny. We did almost everything together. We ate together, we played together, everything. But it stopped when the torturers came and killed everyone with gray hair. It was sad, but the Traitor didn’t seem unhappy; she seemed happy about it as if her expression was “They deserved it.” It was then right after I was knocked out and transported to Rebelliaÿ.

I saw it in the Traitors' pocket before I stole the print. She looked distracted with the Torturer, so I took a moment to steal it, you know, as a keepsake. I hopped out as quickly, albeit carelessly, as I could. And you know the rest.

Now, back to the present, everyone was cheering, preparing a feast of the finest cuisine we could afford—slightly better Rat Meat and dry lettuce, a delicacy. The most intelligent people in our group and the elders took the print and started recreating it. They took the recreation and went to the inspection room. I never knew the inspection room; they never let me in. Luckily, with my skills, I slipped in quickly.

What I saw next, I could never recover from. I saw people around a strange symbol with the recreation of the print in the middle of the symbol. They were screaming something in the torturer's language.

And then, a ghostly figure came out of the symbol; it had a mask on, screaming, somehow knowing our language.

“Who dares summon me, the previous one of the cycle!” the ghost moaned.

“’Tis is I, the leader of Rebelliaÿ!” Said an elder, “And we have a document we would like you to look at it. It seems like a heat gun, and we want to know if it is true!”

“I will only say this, it is easy for the torturers to fix this mistake, but it will take you many years just to solve one part of it. Your so-called “Torturers” can make a better version in seconds, and you retards will not dare to turn against the race of the all mightiest! They will kill you soon. No matter if you fucking make the heat gun. You will perish, as they can create powers beyond your imagination. It is by pure luck that they haven’t found your town. But soon, you will be ended, and don’t expect me to help your side. Have the next twenty-four hours, and our ghosts won’t be back.”

“Then we’ll force you to stay,” The leader exclaimed before doing another ritual.

Chains formed around the ghost while it screamed, “Blasphemy!”

“You dare chain me up like a little child? I will always be free; it’s my destiny! Your destiny is to be dead! So accept it as it is and-”

“Shut up, you idiot.” The leader said.

The ghost then compressed into only its mask, the chains still on it. It appeared it had hibernated to sleep until it was unchained. Then, an eerie voice was played in the room. More ghosts started to appear, and soon, everyone ran out, as breathing was hard. The Ghosts, however, seemed like they couldn’t do anything but scare them; it appeared they couldn’t interact with the physical world without a ritual.

I had seen enough, so I quickly escaped the room, grabbing planks as quickly as possible. And in no time, the room was boarded up.

But the crisis isn’t over yet, as one of the elders told me,

“While we were in the inspection room, we guessed you also heard what he said; he also told us another message through telepathy to keep it a secret: the Torturers and his two Traitors are coming in merely an hour.”

ARRIVAL

Thirty minutes after the ghost incident, we see the Torturer’s truck arriving at the edge of our view. We could see they were armed with guns and cannons and bombs. That is not a good sign. And we saw that the grass that I trekked in was lit ablaze. The truck visited our humble village, and everyone was worried. We were the brightest groups of retards on the planet, and they were here to end all of us. What will happen to the not-so-smart brothers that are in this horrid world? Will they all perish like us? I don’t know. I am not as intelligent as the torturers.

But away from the depression, we were prepared. The heat gun was built, and we have swords. Bows and arrows were being given to everyone. We are battle-ready. I was the most feared out of everyone in my group, so I was given the best item. A sword made from the control panels material was stolen from the factories. A makeshift gun made with gunpowder, material from control panels, and many springs by taking apart thrown away outdated machines.

As the truck quickly climbed up the hills and cliffs that took me an hour to climb, I got worried about our defensive side. We don’t have a bunker of any sort. None of our shacks and buildings were very secure. They could fall any second. The gates were made of termite-infested wood and scrap plastic. The heat gun the Torturers invented could quickly burn up the wood and melt the plastic. And it seemed they had a heat gun mounted in front of the truck. And a wind gun, too. Oh god, what can we even do?

As the truck arrived, the Torturer spouted something; I couldn’t understand, so I yelled.

“Say something Useful”

The torturer looked confused, and the girl traitor looked surprised and said something to the torturer before she said something in a way we could understand.

“This is a message from Timmy; we know you have your language. Luckily, me, Thorne, was from your place, a long time ago. This means I know your language. We offer you a deal, you all turn yourselves over to die, while the person who robbed the print will be tortured, or we can do this the hard way, and we easily win. Killing all of you in the process.”

The elder announced, “We will not give up. We will fight instead of giving up and be executed. We will not perish. This is a declaration of war between the Retards, or what we like to say Rebels and the Torturers!”

THE BATTLE OF REBELLIAŸ

Timmy was confused before Thorne said, “They’re saying that they will commence war on you, Rebels vs. Torturers.” Timmy translated the Rebels and Timmy’s group. Timmy was outraged. He was so mad that he didn’t care if his incredible truck would be scratched. He turned on the heat gun and told Thorne to arm the machine guns and Johnathan to arm the cannons. After the preparation, he turned on the high beams and went full speed. The truck went 300 mph, and the rebels couldn’t believe what they saw. Something so fast, the mountain lions they were used to, were merely as quickly as a snail compared to the truck.

And so they burned the wood and melted the plastic as soon as the heat gun came in contact with the wood and plastic. They drove right into the village and started a massacre. But the rebels also had their defenses. They used their arrows and tipped them with fire to try to send the truck on fire. Swords were everywhere as Timmy exited the truck and dismounted the heat gun. Thorne took the windgun, and the rebels flew around. Some landed on roofs and fell into the houses. Some were not as fortunate and landed in fire pits. Then John dismounted the truck and used his sword to battle the rebels.

Timmy’s group underestimated how many rebels were there; this was proven when John started dueling a rebel with his sword when ten more rebels joined and fought against John. But one by one, the insurgents were killed, and John climbed out of the enormous pile of corpses.

The rebels also had their victory. They are very good with their bows. In one incident, Thorne was shot with a burning arrow, and her jacket quickly caught in flames. This caused a burn in Thorne, and Timmy had to use the windgun she dropped onto the floor to blow it out. This made one of Thorne’s hands immobile, and she had a disadvantage.

Timmy used the fire gun to burn up many houses. The houses were caught in flames, and the children inside were trapped. The elders quickly rescued them before they were roasted, and giant bonfires erupted. Timmy chased an elder and demanded to know where the blueprints were. The elder didn’t say anything, so he tortured him by slowly burning him. He finally gave in and said, “It’s in the hall with the ghosts.”

The ghosts were news to Timmy, as he didn’t know there were more ghosts. He supposed it made sense and went in. There, Timmy's predecessor welcomed him. He told him that one of the ghosts was trapped and the only way to free him was through a ritual. After a minute of briefing on how to do the ritual, he chanted some words and burned some wood. Then, the ghost was released from his shackle, and they all flew out of the hall.

Timmy wanted to talk to the thing, but he knew this isn’t the time. But when he tried to exit the hall, the thing stopped him. He said, “Listen, Tim, they are building a heat gun somewhere in there.”

Timmy was surprised and wanted to ask some questions, but the thing flew away. He came out of the hall and was amazed to see that half of the rebels were dead. But something was wrong; the elders were not there. They seemed just to disappear. When Timmy checked the corpses, he couldn’t find a single elder. He dismissed it and would find them later when he had to crush the rebels.

Timmy continued to use this firegun to kill the rebels. One after another, their clothes caught on fire, and they were burned alive. Some insurgents were so fat that they had to be drenched with gasoline to burn correctly. But when the fat spewed out and melted, the fire burned quickly.

He then saw someone in a purple kilt running towards the hall, carrying a paper. Timmy chased after him and saw he was the one who robbed the blueprint. He shoots him, but in a way that he will slowly die in pain. He shot everywhere but the heart and brain, so he would only slowly die. Then he used a rock to hit his skull, and it fractured.

Suddenly, Thorne said, “What's the fuck is that!” And pointed towards a group of elders hauling out a large firegun. They said, “While you were massacring this village, we were building the firegun, and here it is. Thorne translated it to Timmy and John, but it came outs as, “While you bitches were fucking killing all of us, we were building a fucking gun, and here it is.”

Then John whispered to Timmy and Thorne, “I think it is going to fucking kill all of us. Tim, you should’ve made the immortality potion when you had the chance.” the fire gun was pointed at the “Torturers,” so they fled into the truck. This wasn’t a problem for the firegun, as it gets hot. So hot that it can quickly melt steel if it is concentrated correctly.

After hours of teamwork, the elders could finally end the “Torturers'” lives and create peace. But the elders don’t know that when Timmy dies, everyone will die, and the cycle repeats. It might as well be a suicide for the entire planet. Timmy thought about this and felt sorry for not being able to end the cycle. As they turned on the gun, Timmy started the truck and tried to drive away.

In about three seconds, the firegun will be on. Three, they were nearing the hall, half a mile away from what used to be the village walls. Two, a third of a mile to the walls, one, a quarter mile to the walls, but their truck didn’t melt. There was only a tiny shake. Everyone survived. But when they looked behind them, it seemed like the giant firegun exploded, and everything around it crumbled.

Then, when John took out the locator, he saw the locator had a piece of blueprint stuck on it. After further inspection, John found that the part of the paper was the over-temperature cut-out switch design. The elders didn’t put the switch in it, so the firegun overheated and exploded. This burned everyone, and the whole village was gone. It seemed as though when Dumbo’s grandson ripped the locator off, he saved the Torturers’ lives. A slave saved the Torturers’ lives in a roundabout way. It’s so lucky that the group hasn't died. The consequences are tremendous. Timmy would have been the tyrant with the shortest reign. And all his efforts will be gone, all because of a slave. And this is what happened with Jim.

After this battle, they drove back to the village. What used to be the wall is now ashes and burnt plastic. The shacks inside the town are unrecognizable. There are edible corpses everywhere. They are perfectly cooked and can be fed to everyone. So Timmy and the team gathered all the food into the truck and continued to inspect the village. The robber is dead. The hall was crumbled into fine sand because of the explosion. Some even melted and turned into glass. Timmy took the airgun and set it to weak. He used it to cool the glass and put it in a box to keep as souvenirs. Then he said to everyone, “You can take whatever you want from here. The bodies that blown off, the foot over there, and of course, the elder’s bodies.”

After the area survey, they returned to the truck and returned to Timmy’s palace. Timmy and the team went into the meeting room and discussed what to do with this whole situation. Of course, the first thing to do is grind up the meat and label it “Smart Patties.”

Timmy asked the room, “So what should we do now? I know we need to up security, but any old retard won’t do. They are too easily fooled by other people. We need something that will be on our side, no matter what.”

John replied, “The only thing that would work can be human, so would the ghosts work?”

“Of course it won’t. I thought you were smart! What can they do? They can only pass through the wall and moan all day.” Thorne said.

Timmy replied, “Thorne, watch your language. John is smarter than you, in terms in IQ. I am surprised you even passed your language test. Maybe I need to reevaluate it. But what both of you said is true, at least partly. Now, I trust you to find a solution in a couple of minutes. You both are very smart and can do it. Unlike those retards who almost blew us up. Mabey I need to feed them to the earthworms…”

“Now, think!” Timmy said.

THE BATTLE OF FREELAČ

After a couple of minutes, the room was still silent. So Timmy encouraged John and Thorne to go on a killing spree. So they took a plane and flew to a continent south of Europe, Africa. In this vast land, there are new ideas everywhere. The blacks had their own culture and religion. Perfect for inspiration.

So they armed themselves and shot everyone they saw. Timmy gathered a group of retards and made them stand in a line. Then he put them in a pool of safari ants and started dismembering them. Then he fed the flesh of the humans to other humans to fatten them up. Then, it was time for his signature move. Slicing the obese people open for the fat to spew out so that it can be fed to the earthworms.

Thorne used her firegun to boil and fry the skin of the retards while they were alive and cut them off to deep-fry. It was the best way, she thought, and fed them to the retards. John used the airguns to blow the retarded slaves around and make them hit their heads and other vital areas. Then, suddenly, John said, “I’ve got it!”

Timmy and Thorne both asked, “Got what?”

John replied, “The way to have security in the palace with no retards in the mix. We should use robots!”

“It’s a fine idea. We will get back and work on it.” Timmy replied.

They flew back and went to work. But while they were trying to pass, something caught in the jet engine damaged it so severely that they had to make an emergency landing. They landed in a field in the middle of Europe, and it caught fire. They ran from the field, and Timmy used his windgun to blow the fire out.

Success! But they needed the plane to get back to the palace. And with only one jet engine, the aircraft will fly lopsided. It is essential to get back to the palace and build the robots in fear for Timmy’s safety. They might even need an army of robots.

After a bit of thinking, they had a compromise. The math told them they could return in a day if they worked as a team. They only had to remove the broken jet engine and move the working one onto the top. The good thing was that the fuel tank wasn’t lit on fire, so they still had fuel.

Timmy used the firegun to melt the broken engine out of the plane and used it for scrap metal, while Thorn and Johnathan melted the steel from the engine and moved it to the top of the aircraft. And with that, a day passed, and the team went into the plant to sleep. But they were jolted awake.

It was a retard walking in. He carried a dagger made of bamboo. Timmy grabbed the heat gun, and Thorne said in the retard language, “Who dares to come in here, where the mighty one resides!”

The Retard replied, “I am the leader of the Freelač. Who is this?”

“I am the translator of the all-mighty leader, Timmy. Obey Him, or else.”

“Why should my tribe and the neighboring ones obey you?”

“We have powers you haven’t dreamed of!”

The retard didn’t budge, so Timmy shot his leg, and John used the Fire Gun and slowly roasted his feet. Then, John used the windgun to fly him back to his tribe. They fell asleep and woke up in the morning. They burned a wild hog they found and ate it. It is now time for work. They drove their truck out of the plane and used it to haul materials.

It was time to weld the engine to the top of the plane. But halfway through, they found that they needed painite to stabilize the control over the engine. But, painite was very hard to find; originally, it was all over the place. It used to be very easy to find, but now, it is rarer to find than finding a needle in a haystack on the first try. The findings of painite were like a metaphor for the slaves.

Way back when, back to the first experiment, the obese slaves, back when they were called slaves and not retards. They were submissive; they ate what Timmy told them to eat, and everything felt fine, but now. Everyone is idiotic. Now, they need to listen to Timmy. Every person they meet has to force them to do what Timmy wants. Back then, everyone was too dumb to want to do anything alone. It's a metaphor for you; you used to listen to what your parents told you. Yet now, you never listen to them; you are probably a stupid brat who thinks they can do anything they want. You used to be wise, but now you aren’t. Why am I still here? Why am I still reading you a dead tale?

Then, Timmy thought of an idea. They could “see” if the tribe had any. They only need to find the retard who wasn’t following Timmy. But the villagers seemed to be as bright as the people from Rebelliaÿ. The people might be able to talk to ghosts.

Timmy said, “We are going to find the village of Freelač and take their painite and use it!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be far from here. We have the truck to use. It shouldn’t be hard.” John replied.

Thorn pointed out that if Late can walk to Freelač in a couple of hours, it should take them too long.

When they started to drive, they saw a trail of burnt ash on the floor. So the group followed it, nearing a valley in about an hour. While John was driving, Timmy and Thorne decided to ease their nerves by killing people. They killed the young, the obese, the old, and the normal. It is all fun and games for them to kill people. Another hour passes, and the earthworms should come out in time to eat it. And the factory workers should be coming to collect the bodies to be ground up.

That's when they see the walls of the village of Freelač. It is made of stone and raw iron. Nothing they couldn’t deal with. Timmy mounted the front of the truck with the fire gun, melted the stone and iron into lava, and went through it. The leader should have expected them to be here, but the villagers wandered around, traded, and talked. The children were playing, and the elders were chatting. But when they drove in more and killed more retards with the truck, they saw an army of people.

An army came out with acid-tipped crossbows and swords. It was time to fight. Timmy took out his machine gun, and Johnathan used the air gun. Thorne used the firegun. They got out and started shooting at everyone. People were burnt, and some were air-fried. The battle continued, and Thorne and Johnathan worked quite well as a team.

While John was blowing people away, Thorne burnt the people in the air, and it was raining cooked humans. Then Timmy collected the meat and put it in a truck. Timmy sent bullets flying everywhere. Old people were killed. Babies were killed. Strong and muscular men were killed. It was such a pretty battle. One that would be in history for ages to come. This battle would be taught to unretards in books, videos, and images.

Just as Timmy was sending bullets flying, he bumped into a tank. The tank was depositing acid to the army men. He could take it and dip his bullets into them so more damage would be caused. He did precisely that, and the rate of death increased.

Timmy invented something called the “Death Index.” If the index is shallow, that means you as a retard and don’t know what you are doing to kill someone. It is measured by finding the “Kill per minute,” or kpm. The higher, the better. When John and Thorne realized the combined kpm was only ten, they went into the truck and tried to think of something with a higher kpm.

Jonathan thought of making a bomb, and Thorne thought of a great addition. She could put acid in a separate compartment in the bomb, so when the bomb explodes, it would heat the acid and make it more violent and kill more people. They built a hundred in twenty minutes and took them out. They threw one out, and in a minute, it killed one hundred people. This would hardly make a dent in the world’s population.

They killed a lot of people, sure, but the flesh can’t be made as food. That's when Timmy spotted a large, divine-looking building. He entered it but was protected by large, beefy, muscular young guards. Timmy shot them with no mercy, and they bled to death. All the guards weren't clothed, so Timmy was disgusted by what he saw. But he stepped on them and went in. The inside was a bright room with an open roof with the sun shining into a box that reflected blood-red light to ten tanzanites, which focused light into a lens that pointed to an emerald.

It was noon, and the emerald was completely lit up. The light was very blinding, but Timmy saw into it. He then passed out for a minute…

After a minute, Timmy woke up and saw ten ghosts staring at him. They said, “Hello, Timmy…”

Timmy replied, “Ahh, so this is what this light is. To communicate with ghosts. I see that many more innovative villages have the knowledge of how to communicate with ghosts.”

A ghost said, “Yes, but we try to remain unbiased, as not to change how things unfold. But, the ghost known to you as “the thing,” has given you some tips on how to change the course. And you did.”

Then another ghost said, “And a wonderful job you did too. Now, you made discoveries of killing unknown to us.”

“But, you won’t be seeing us soon, as noon is now over…”

Timmy then saw the ghosts leave into the emerald, and one by one, the Tanzanites lost their light, and the emerald dimmed. Timmy thought, “If it worked so well, I better make one too, or batter yet, steal it.”

He opened the box of the blood light and saw inside there was a giant painite crystal. He took it, along with all the other tanzanites and the large diamond. He can produce the lens on his own with John and Thorne. So Timmy went back outside to put the minerals into the truck. He then went to John and Thorne and helped them kill more people. He then told John to throw bombs into the temple. He did, and all the people still remaining inside were dead, and the building was in ruins.

After this massacre, they lit up every building and the surrounding forest to ensure everyone was dead. Then, they returned to their jet and placed the painite into the module. After sealing everything up, the plane started, and they climbed in. The truck was hauled in, and everyone was happy. Freelač was no more, and the forest fire would destroy the surrounding villages. Timmy and the crew took off, and for a while, everything was peaceful. There was clam chatter, and they crossed the Atlantic peacefully.

Timmy set the jet into autopilot and started working on the lens. He took a large piece of glass and began molding it with the heat gun. After the acceptable shape was crafted, he used a diamond tool to curve it.
THE BATTLE OF LIBERTARIOS

Abruptly, a large spear went through the floorboard, so John and Thorn looked outside the window. A tribe of retards was throwing spears at them. So Timmy disengaged the autopilot and landed in a field two miles away from the town.

“What the fuck was that?” Asked Thorne, shocked.

“How did they even get through the carbon fiber body of the plane?” Asked John.

Timmy replied, “The spear seems to have been made of emerald, so it cut through the plane. Nonetheless, we will kill those bitches who dare to damage our plane. But the plane will still be functional to fly back to our palace.”


Timmy, John, and Thorne went on the truck and drove it out into the desert. It wasn’t long until they saw a town in the distance. That is when Timmy thought of an idea. He could use the lens he made to burn people much quicker. And in the desert sun, it gets way hotter, so it could quickly kill someone in a matter of seconds. They drove towards the town, which was called Libertarios. They saw all the men were entirely naked, probably from the desert sun. The women were partially clothed. Their breasts were, and so is their pubic area to the knee. But the men were battle-ready.

They held spears and swords that were heated until they were red-hot. The women had slingshots with hot rocks. So Timmy’s group used their weapon and mounted the lens to the truck. As soon as the people were in front of the car, they were air fried and used as food for the retards that lived nearby. But this group of people wasn’t as dumb. They had someone young as their leader.

Their leader was in a temple, naked, on top of a hill overlooking the town. This gives him a significant advantage, as he can attack from the top, and others can’t attack him. But Timmy got Thorne and John off the truck and drove around to the back of the hill. John and Thorn used their regular tactics to kill people. But they also used the bombs they created in Freelač to achieve the 100 kpm they aimed for quickly.

People tried to run away from the bombs, but they couldn’t because of how the hot acid blasted everywhere. If a retard were 100 ft away from the radius of the bomb, they’re dead. They had even less protection because they weren’t clothed. Quickly, three-quarters of the villages were destroyed and melted.

Timmy drove the truck up and crept behind their leader, who was throwing spears into the mess. Timmy tackled him and tied him up. He took him into the building and started to interrogate him. Timmy could speak his language because of the lessons Thorne taught him during the plane ride.

Timmy asked, “Why are there three attacks so close to each other?”

There was no response from the leader, so Timmy moved the lens, and it started burning the floor.

“I will repeat the question: Why are there three attacks so close to each other?”

No reply. So Timmy moved the lens and focused it on the bit of toe of the leader. The leader is in visual discomfort.

“Answer my question, or else.”

The leader replied shakily, “This was a planned attack... Ahh!” The lens focused higher up on his feet. “He knew you were coming…”

“And how did you know?” Timmy asked while moving the lens an inch higher up his feet.

“We..ee.. Had a communication network set uppp by ghosts. They were…”

Timmy took out his firegun to help him think.

“They were binded by a spell..ll we made and was used as a comm…unication network. We planned the attack so we would weaken youuu..u.”

Timmy moved the light to his shin.

“AND WE PLANNED FOR YOU TO LAND IN ALL THREE SPOTS SO YOU WOULD DIE… AHHH!!!”

“And that didn’t work, did it?” Timmy asked.

“No, it didn’t, and I failed.” The leader replied, while his future potential slowly ceased from the chance of existence. “I plotted the battles, but didn’tttt think you would winnnn all three of themmm… AHHH!”

Timmy splashed water onto the leader and said, “As I am a person of mercy, you will die a painless death. You will have no more children ever again. No more people shall be smart, which will mark this plan's beginning”.

Timmy fed the leader some pills, and the leader died a minute. Then he drove back down to see most of the villagers died, but some were still running around, so he had the fun of shooting people and burning them. They even have a game where they try to achieve the highest kpm to win. In the end, all the retards died, and it was over. But the trouble was, there was acid everywhere, so they needed to be careful. This time, there were no bodies to haul, as the acid may damage the truck. They drove back to the jet and flew back to the palace.

At last, the union of the three towns was ended. But there was still a problem. The ghosts were trapped.

So when they got back to the palace, Timmy got out the book, “101 Rituals for Dealing with Ghosts: You Could Do It Too!” from his bookshelf and flipped to the page, “41: How to End a Spell Cast on a Ghost.” It said it needed acid, crimson leaves, and ground allanite.

Timmy followed the book and started burning the mixture. A few minutes later, the ghosts went from silent to whooping around, happy that Timmy freed them. One of them asked, “Those retards deserved to be ground up. But why didn’t you do so?”

Timmy couldn’t think of an answer, but he felt they were dead enough, and his earthworms could devour them. Great for fertile dirt. As for the desert, the vultures will eat it.



PART 3: INNOVATION

One of the biggest reasons for the cycle was that the “Torturers” were dying because of rebellions caused by the retards. Timmy has the earliest rebellion in all the torturers’ history. He could only crush the rebellions because he had the help of Thorne and Johnathan. Without them, he would have been dead for sure. A plan was created where they would make an army that could crush any rebellion.

But how could they create an army? If they were to educate the retards and make them become his army, then they would think for themselves and cause all Timmy had worked for to vanish. He needed something that wasn’t human, directly under them.

That’s when John came into Timmy’s office with an idea.


ROBOTICS

“We should make an army of computers with a human body!” John said.

“Do you mean robots? That is what robots are, and that would be a good idea. But how could we make a large army of them? They are going to be hard to make.”

“We should make a prototype version that would be your bodyguard then. I will get started now. But we need a lot of heavy steel that wouldn’t break in contact with acid. How are we going to make that?” John asked.

“I think titanium might work. We got some in the storage, right? Thorne can make the design and you can fix her mistakes. Get started now.” Timmy replied.

John went to talk to Thorne. “Timmy told us to make robots or computers with a human body; Timmy told you to work on the design since you make the firegun. He also said to use titanium as the frame. I’ll do the math, and you do the design.”

“Fine, but don’t just stand there!” Thorn replied.

John went to get the titanium from the storage. The storage room is brightly lit, with many high shelves full of the objects and minerals Timmy has found. John went to the “Metals” area and found a shelf full of titanium. He only needs to haul it down. He took a lift with wheels and moved the bin of titanium to the car. Then he drove it back to Thorne’s workroom and put the box onto the floor.

By this time, Thorne had already finished the design and handed it back to John to examine it. He started on the motors on the feet and moved up as he went. He installed guns and bomb launchers on the shoulders. He then created a computer that controlled all the body’s movements. At last, the robot is fixed. But here’s the biggest problem: building it. It seemed easy on paper, but it is going to be complicated.

John started to build the body while Thorne began to on the arms. The body is made of a titanium frame and a metal body. After about an hour, he finished making all the mechanical parts inside the body. He then started piecing it all together. This is the hard part because they don’t fit together perfectly, like a Lego. He had to move certain parks to put in another, a tedious task. But after another hour, he finally made it. He created a body that could bend forward, backward, sideways, and upwards.

Thorne had successfully created both feet. The challenging part of the feet was the small motors needed to fit into the frame. It took ten broken motors to put one in, but in the end, the motors worked, and the front panel was put on.

Timmy then came in and saw the excellent progress they were making. “Need any help?” he asked.

“We would appreciate it if you worked on the software for the robot.” John replied.

“Fine, but keep up the labor.”

John went back to work. Now that he was done with the body, it was time for the head. The head is relatively easy. He only needs to install a screen and cameras in the face, with microphones and suck. He completed it in less than an hour. Thorn made the hands and it also wasn’t hard. Now that she knew how to make the feet, she used her experience to make the fingers. After seven hours of hard work, the robot was finally finished. They uploaded Timmy’s code and sent him to walk to Timmy.