Patrick : The Bald Paintbrush

              

          Once upon a time there was a bald paint brush named Patrick. Patrick’s life was absolutely miserable. People don’t often understand how tough life could be for a bald paintbrush. You see, everyone has a purpose in life. Paintbrushes are used to create art. They help people unlock their creative abilities and to express themselves in a way words could not possibly. However, Patrick was useless. He had no hair, no bristles, no real point for existing and he knew this. The other children would mock him and beat him up. His only source of joy was knowing that the bullies got splinters as they beat him senselessly. Obviously, Patrick deserved it. Nerds deserve to be beat up. In fact, anyone weird or different should be beaten and ridiculed so that they will conform to the standards that we all hold dear and sacred. Patrick did have two friends who were equally pathetic. A conjoined twin alligator named Joey and Mitch the lit Match. Oh, how they were hated by the school.

                One day, Patrick decided to church up his image. He watched the movie Grease with his mother and saw the T-birds prancing around singing about making out and scoring. Patrick wanted to score so bad! “That’s It!” He thought. “If I had a leather jacket then I’d be cool!” He was wrong. Children can sense losers. It’s known as the “sixth” or even “seventh” sense depending on the circles you run in.

                The next day Patrick pranced his merry way to the playground thinking that all his dreams were about to come true. He was wearing the most exquisite black leather jacket. It was covered in chains and zippers and as far as leather jackets go, this was a beauty. But children are more intuitive than we often think. They see straight through fancy clothes and zippers to the loser beneath. It was mere seconds before the bullies were on him pummeling him with new rage. How dare this loser try to act cool? What could he possibly be thinking? The bullies were relentless as they taught Patrick the lesson he should have already known. Some tore the jacket into pieces while others were busy making him eat the various zippers and chains.

                Patrick had a determination, though. He knew that he had no purpose but still he pined for acceptance. “If only I could be loved”, he thought as he struggled to his feet. That was when he saw her. Like an angel, glowing in the door way. Brenda the Broom standing near the entrance to the girls bathroom, a shocked look on her face.

                She rushed to help him up. With tender love and care she helped him to the girls bathroom. There she tended to his wounds with all the diligence of a new mother. Patrick was overjoyed. Somehow his pain was so much less when this beautiful girl touched him. As she tended to him he gazed lovingly into her eyes and knew that this was it. He would give anything to have this young woman with him for all his live. “Brenda,” He said longingly. “Will you be mine?”

“Of course,” whispered Brenda. “I’ll be right back, I have to get some more bandages.” She winked at him as she left.

                Patrick was ecstatic over his new love. He sat there swimming in a daze, nearly unconscious daydreaming of marriage and all the little paintbrushes they would have. The possibilities were endless and he could finally see the light at the end of his very dark tunnel. He was so dazed, in fact, that he did not hear Brenda as she called out. “I found the nerd!” She yelled. “He was watching me in the bathroom!”

“Thanks, babe,” said the biggest, ugliest bully, smacking her on the butt as he rushed past. “Snuck into the girl’s bathroom so you get a peek at my girl? You’re gonna pay for that!”

                Patrick did not think it possible to receive any more vicious of a pounding than he had received to that point. He was wrong. The brutality of the attack combined with his heart and soul being crushed by the lying succubus, Brenda, was nearly more than he could take. As he lie on the floor being demolished by these bullies, he stared up at the ceiling. He focused directly on the light through the fists and soon his vision began to become a blue dot, growing larger until it engulfed him. All he could see was blue. All he could feel was blue.

                Patrick didn’t know how much time had passed when he awoke. He had vague recollections of the bullies shoving him into the toilet and dousing him in kerosene (“Perfume for your date,” they kept saying maniacally as they poured it over him. “You’ll smell so pretty!”).

                Patrick remembered the blue. What a feeling. He stared into the lights again hoping to slip back into that time but couldn’t quite get it. He knew what to do. “MITCH!” He screamed. There was no clock in the girl’s bathroom and in his state he had no concept of time but he thought it was worth a try. “MIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!” He screamed.

                Mitch came around the corner and Patrick’s plan flew into action. Just as he thought, Mitch, being the good friend that he is ran towards Patrick to help him. “Patrick!” He cried. As he picked Patrick up, flames jumped from Mitch’s head onto the kerosene. Flames dancing around them, Patrick again looked into the lights and stepped into the blue.

                The explosion was incredible. The only thing Patrick ever did that was ever noteworthy.

The Moral :         Women are dirty, dirty liars. Don’t trust them.