Fabrications of a Lost Mind

The Matrix: Reloaded

Ah. Hi. Yeah, you're probably wondering about this. This... Er... This is my sort of half-assed parody of "The Matrix: Reloaded". It's not finished yet. 

Do NOT, do NOT take this and copy it, post it, paste it, edit it, or otherwise claim it is yours, or I will staple your lips to the back of a bus. It may not be great, it may be a pile of crap, but I wrote this pile of crap. kthnx. :D

<3 much!



Parody by MK


Security Guards: *yawn* G'night, ya'll.
Trinity's Bike: VRRRROOOM! Out the way, bitches!!!!!!
Trinity: *backflip*
Trinity's Bike: I regret nothing! *splody*
Trinity: *sexy and painful spread-eagle landing*
Security Guard #1: Hey! Did we order a stripper??!
Trinity: Eat helmet, police academy rejects.
Security Guard #2: I didn't know she was a dominatrix.
Security Guard #3: That's what you get for ordering from 1-800-VINYL-HO.
Trinity: *kicks mall security ass*
All Security Guards: *death*
Trinity: Can you hear me now?
The Matrix: *BLEEPS*
Trinity: Good!


Window: I didn't like my life anyway. *SHATTERS*
Trinity: *suicide dive*
Trinity: Aren't you glad we live in an alternate plane of exsistance where we don't have to worry about reprocussions from this world?
Agent: *drools*
Trinity: DIE!!!! *shoots*
Agent: VINYL HO!!!! *shoots back*
Glass: *tinkles*
Trinity: *misses*
Agent: *misses*
Trinity: *misses*
Agent: *misses*
Trinity: *misses*
Agent: *misses*
Trinity: *misses*
Agent: *misses*
Trinity: *misses*
Agent: *misses*
Trinity: *misses*
Agent: *scores a hit!*
Trinity: Oh, shit.
Agent: HAH! I WINZ!
Time: *speeds up dramatically*
Car: *implodes*


Startled Neo: Damn. Last time I drink Red Bull before bed. Ugh.
Trinity: *sleeps peacefully...angelically...beautifully... no sane man would ever leave her side while lying next to her*
Neo: *gets up* ...If I'm really quiet, I can sneak down to the 7-11 and get one more...


Link: I'm spazzing out here, man.
Morpheus: *slap* Keep it together, Zelda.
Link: Don't use my girlfriend's name in vain. Once peace returns to Hyrule... I mean, Zion, we'll be happy together again. TRIFORCE! XD
Morpheus: ...Right. Never question me, bitch.
Link: Yes ma'am.
Morpheus: *stares*
Link: I mean, yes sir.
Morpheus: I hope so. Now get me my walkman and replace the double AA's. I want to listen to Jackson Five.


Trinity: I KNEW IT. ANOTHER Red Bull. You hor.
Neo: They give me bad dreams.
Trinity: Are you having one of your insecurity fits again?
Neo: I just wish I knew what to DO with my life, you know? How can everyone expect me to SAVE THE WORLD?! Can't someone else do it? I just want to be NORMAL! GOD!!!!
Link: He having a fit again?
Neo: *sobs*
Trinity: We leaving?
Link: We're already late.
Trinity: Oh. Great. I love being punctual.
Neo: I just wanna be normal... *weeps*


Naiobe: It took me sixteen hours to get my hair like this. It hurts like hell and looks like shit. Also, look at these pictures.
Everyone: Crap. We're screwed.
Naiobe: Pretty much. Nice knowing ya'll.
Morpheus: Hi. *arrives fashionably late*
Naiobe: Thanks for showing up on time, asshat.
Morpheus: Yeah. Sorry about that. Anyhoo, I'm here to be a party pooper. What's el Commander going to do about 250,000 Sentinals?
Naiboe: We... Uh... Haven't... Figured that part out yet. BUT WE WILL.
Morpheus: You suck.

Audi: *screeches*
Agent's Foot: *steps ominously!*
Neo: I sense a disturbance in the force!
Trinity: What?
Neo: SPIDEY SENSE IS TINGLING!!! *leaves meeting*
Morpheus: PROPHECY!!!
Naiobe: Dude.
Random Guy: Fuck you. You're asking us to disobey el Commander?
Morpheus: Yeah. ...You KNOW you want to.
Random Guy: ...Sure, why not.

Smith: *knocks*
Door Guard #1: Who is it?
Smith: Girl Scouts!!!!
Door Guard #1: *opens slat* Hey, you're not a Girl Scout. ...Do you have cookies?
Smith: Where's Neo?
Door Guard #1: Who?
Smith: Neo. I have something for him.
Door Guard #1: I knew you had cookies. You were holding out on me you, you bastard!!!
Smith: Give him this.
Door Guard #1: *sniffs envelope* I knew it was cookies. *cries*
Neo: Who was that? Is it about my cookies?
Door Guard #2: How'd you know?
Neo: Followed my nose. Get out of here, Girl Scouts are coming.
Door: *is dented mercilessly in the shape of Thin Mints*
Neo: Adolescent bitches.
Door: *falls down*
Neo: Sup?
Agent #1: Dood.
Agent #2: It's him.
Agent #3: That one guy.
Agent #1: Can I touch him?
Agent #2: Let's kill him.
Agent #3: Agreed.
Agent #1: Neo, I'm your biggest fan!
Agent #2: Prepare to die.
Agent #3: Grrr.
Agent #1: Can I have your autograph?
Agents 2 and 3: *attack!*
Agent 1: Neo, will you marry-
Neo: *punches Agent #1 into a wall*
Agent #2: HA HA!
Neo: *punches Agent #2 into a wall*
Agent #3: You guys suck!!! Hahahahaha-
Neo: *kicks Agent #3 into a street lamp*
Agent #3: Oh man. Death.
Asphalt: I love Neo... *ripples*
Neo: To the Batcave! *flies off*
Smith #1: I knew that would happen.
Smith #2: Yeah, me too.
Smith #1: Me first...
Smith #2: No, me first.
Smith #1: Dude, I MADE you, I thought it first.
Smith #2: TECHNICALITY!!!!

Morpheus: Clue me in, Zelda.
Link: Morph, I'm just as lost as you. *eats a Thin Mint*
Morpheus: Don't call me Morph.
Trinity: Is my loveboy ok?
Link: *ignores Trinity* Morpheus, you should have seen him.
Morpheus: Where'd he go?
Link: To put on his tights, cape, and pink pumps.

Neo: *twirls! dives! flutters!!!!*
Clouds: *spin!!*

Neo: Ahhhh, home sweet home. Excuse me while I pay no mind to manners and enter your graffitied apartment without permission or notice. ...Oh God. Interior decorationg faux par. By the way, where the hell are you?

Link: Let me in, ho.
Zion Control: 10-4, good buddy.
Morpheus: There's no place like home... There's no place like home...
Link: *clicks heels*


Morpheus: Captain Dude.
Mifune: Captian Morph.
Morpheus: You're here with the 5-0, man.
Mifune: Shut up and come quietly.
Random Guard: Commander Lock DEMANDS...
Mifune: *glares*
Random Guard: I mean... Politely asks that you join him for tea.
Morpheus: Link, take my shit. Imma beat the crap out of this skinny piece of---
Neo: What's with them? THEY don't have to save the world...
Trinity: Naiobe. She was with Morpheus, now she's with Lock. Springer aired it last week. Great ratings.
Neo: Huh?
Trinity: Morpheus went to the Oracle.
Neo: That whore. Who'd sleep around when they've got a fine piece of meat like Naiobe to warm up to?
Trinity: The only warmth you feel is from your energy drinks.
Neo: ...Yeah. BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU WON'T PUT OUT! I don't have much longer to LIVE, Trinity!!! COME ON!!!!!!!!!
Neo's #1 Fan: ZOMG! NEO!!!!
Trinity: Fuck. Your gay lover is here.
Neo: I did NOT have sexual relations with that boy.
Neo's #1 Fan: Hiya Neo!!! ...Hi Trinity. Hey Link. *stares at Neo* It's SO awesome you're back!!!!!
Neo: Yeah... Uh... Thanks.
Neo's #1 Fan: Need any help with your bags, sugarpants?
Neo: Uh. No. No thanks, I'm ok.
Neo's #1 Fan: Trinity? You're a lesbian, but you're the girl in the relationship right? Want me to carry that for you?
Trinity: I hate you.
Link: You can carry these!!!!!
Neo's #1 Fan: ...Alright. But only because Neo's watching. So... Uh... I was thinking, I wanna join your crew. What do you think, Neo? We could be SHIP MATES. >:D
Neo: No.
Neo's #1 Fan: But it's FATE.


Lock: Morpheus.
Morpheus: Lock. Your desk looks stereotypical late 90's Corporate Asshate with a retro twist almost resembling something found in a recycling bin.
Lock: Speak, dog.
Morpheus: I don't have to explain myself to you. You never understood me anyway.
Lock: I TOLD you not to disobey me. You made me look a FOOL in front of all the other Commanders. How could you do this to me??
Morpheus: Neo is the only way to save us.
Lock: That's a load of crap. No one believes that.
Morpheus: No one has to! THE GUY CAN FREAKING FLY, Lock! WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?!




Neo: Yo.
Sereph: Whut up.
Neo: I'm here to see -
Sereph: *ATTACKS!!!*
Neo: Shit, it's Law!!!
[Impressive and unrealistic fight scene commences!]
Sereph: Kay. You coo. Step through my magic door, homie. Lady Marmalade is waiting.
Neo: Sweet.

Roofie Colada (Dreams About God)

Roofie Colada (Dreams About God)

God lives in a swanky apartment complex in downtown Milwaukee in the nicest building around (top floor, of course). Anyway. I live next door to God. Since things in my life were really, really shitty I decided to knock on God's door one night and ask him for advice. What did I recieve when the door swung open? Witness to God's most kicking party ever - there were angels and hot chicks everywhere just getting plowed. There's God, table dancing with purple mardi gras beads around his neck. I was so angry that God was ignoring me and slacking off that I stormed home to write an angry message. I slipped it under his apartment door before I went to bed.

God wakes up the next day, carefully slips out of bed so he doesn't wake up Candy (the beautiful and heavily underestimated single Mother of three from two floors down) and pads in his puppy slippers down to the kitchen to fix himself some orange juice. Blinking blindly through the morning sun, he examines the damage - apartment's trashed.

"Aw, man... Tch... Lousy angels. Never around to help clean up."

With a small flick of his finger, the apartment is spotless and smelling of fresh cinnamon rolls (yeah, God loves cinnamon rolls). Only a small piece of paper near the door remained.

"What the?"

Opon opening the paper he sees, in bright pink permanent marker, the following message:


God sighs.

Puppy slippers and hair with the appearance of fork-to-light-socket syndrome, he walks over to my apartment and slides open the door. There I am, in my frump pajamas, in front of the TV with a pint of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough ice cream and a tall glass of milk.

"What do you want," I asked, between spoonfuls.
"You and I need to talk about the cute note you left. You could've at least thrown some x's and o's at the bottom."
"Ha. You don't deserve hugs right now," I scoffed, flipping through channels on TV and grabbing a nearby stuffed animal.
"Ever the dramatist. Did you know that the rest of the world was on pause last night when that party took place?"
"Well tch YEAH! I mean - wait. I saw people in there. How was the world 'paused'? And why wasn't -I- paused?"
"The people you saw last night are new residents to Heaven, dollface."
"Whatev- what?"
"Yup. And the world was paused. I can't very well leave the world unattended, can I? I did that once and never lived it down. You honestly think George Bush in office was my work?"

God sat down on the couch beside me. He picked up a small, stuffed red dinosaur and fiddled with it idly.

"I figured you could handle yourself for a night," he said, softly.
"Look, I know things are kind of hard right now. You feel like poo and I know it. I hear you, I really do. But I can't just -fix- things for you. All I can do is give you opportunities and hope to cheesecake that you take them."
"Hope to... Cheesecake? Wtf."
"Well I can't really say' Hope to God', now can I?"
"Oh. Uh... Well, yeah..."
"You're tougher you give yourself credit for. You need to spend less of your strength wearing down your confidence and fuse yourself with it instead. Stuff happens, but you're built to last. You have to remember that."

God leaned over and took my spoon, swirling it around inside the ice cream carton searching for cookie dough bits before taking out a huge spoonful and scarfing it down.

"You should watch channel 12. 'Romeo and Juliet' is on. I know you love that movie," God said before swallowing a second spoonful of ice cream. "Well, see ya. Oh, and cute PJs. Dig the sheep." He did the 'snap-point-and wink' thing before turning around and heading out. I heard the soft click of the apartment door next to mine closing.

I stared at the door for a while before dumbly flipping the TV to channel 12.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much... Which mannerly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrim's hands do touch; and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss."
"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"
"Aye, pilgrim - lips that they must use in prayer!"
"Oh then dear saint, let lips do what hands do! They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."
"Saints do not move, though grant for prayer's sake."
"Then move not while my prayer's effect I take."

Claire Danes smooched Leondaro DiCaprio on TV while I curled up with my oversized stuffed hippo and fell asleep. A small piece of paper slipped under my door later that day.

Cupcake Brigade

Cupcake Brigade

There I sat in the corner, looking as pathetic as a colorful JCPenny's ad that got trampled in a ton of mud and run over a few times. Strawberry panties and a neon pink top with red eyes and wet cheeks and a big bottle of cheap wine sitting next to me. I was in another bad spot, and as I normally do in such situations, I shoved everyone that cared away out of fear of ruining them.

Remember how I mentioned that I lived next to God? That changed. After the "Romeo and Juliet" incident, I'd begun having a little more faith in my life and trying to be happier and more positive. Things kept getting worse, but no matter what, I tried to be positive. Kept plugging along. Eventually, things got so bad I started praying. I talked to God's door, the one right next to mine, which now had Batman stickers and lots of old Polaroids taped on it. He even put up a dry-erase board like the college kids; it was filled with "I <3 you" messages and hugs and kissses and "call me!" scribbled sloppily, as if someone was in a huge hurry. So happy. So friendly. I tried to be inspired by it, every time I prayed. God was never home lately... And I tried to remember what he said the last time he came over to my apartment in his puppy slippers. Things were rough then, but they were even worse now, and he wasn't to be found.

I couldn't be mad, like I was last time. I wanted to push God away too... Lest he become hurt by me. Even God isn't immune to the pain I can bring.

So remember how I said I lived next to God, a few sentences ago? After praying to his door failed me... I moved. I saw his door as a sort of dark hope... The kind that works for most, but not for everyone. It seems sometimes, to us all, that God plays favorites. Take Candy, for example. When she was alive, she lived beautifully after the mess with her husband. God told me her backstory once over a bottle of gin: she was a mother of three. She was absolutely beautiful. After she left her abusive husband and took her gorgeous children with her to start a new life in a cute little city in Nebraska, they lived the fairy story life. God favored her for her radiant soul and her pure heart; and so, being that she was too good for this world, he took her from it so she could get the treatment she deserved. She had worked herself to death all for the love of her family. If you care to know, God is watching over her kids right now as their Grandmother raises them, and they're doing just fine and turning out to be just as angelic as their loving mother.

I felt that God had forgotten about me, again. Not hated me; I'd just slipped his mind. I wanted it to be like the day he was in my apartment, but I wanted it to be like that every day. I needed it. I wasn't strong. I wouldn't let anyone be strong for me. But since it wasn't, I moved. I didn't say goodbye. I packed my things and left while he was on a vacation to Hawaii to visit some old musician friend of his from the 60's after ranting about how much his music "moved him like a vaccuum cleaner" (what a strange comparison).

So there I am. Once again, in the corner. I shoved everyone away again, like I always do. I seem to have this irrational fear of hurting those around me like a drunk driver on the freeway with a semi under his fingers. At times like this, I missed my parents. All my thoughts are chasing each other through my head like cat and mouse.

Cheap booze is horrible for you on an empty stomach.

Red wine slowly seeped into the white carpet as I heaved the contents of my stomach into my new kitchen sink. My bare feet slid against the linolium as I vomited, tears escaping my eyes. I hadn't eaten anything that day but still somehow my stomach found content enough to bring forth all the wine and bits of food. Misery.

After what felt like hours (but was really only ten minutes) of horfing in the sink, I felt a hand gently brush my head and pull my hair back from my face. It was warm, incredibly soft, and smelled like a bakery.

I couldn't speak. Partially due to still being queasy and on the verge of puking, and partially because he was here again. He reached above me as I looked at him and opened the cupboard, pulling out my Beatles "Abbey Road" mug. He filled it with tap water, and then sniffed the glass.

"Oh God. How do you drink this crap? Yuck." He dumped the tap water into the sink and reached into the fridge, which I knew was empty, and pulled out a large bottle of Evian Spring Water.

"I totally reccomend this stuff - it's all I drink." He carefully filled the mug with water before handing it to me. "Megan..." he trailed off.

I looked utterly pathetic. I was hovering over the sink in my panties and a tank top. If I hadn't been crying and puking, I'd look like one of those cute college girls that wander around the dorms in their undies either without a care or without decency, one of the two.

"Even when you're twenty-two, you still wear strawberry undies," he chuckled before smoothing my hair and wiping my face with my kitchen rag. "That's part of the reason I love you so much."

A tear or two slid from my eye and fell onto my shirt as I sipped my water. I stared down at my toes. I'd forgotten that I painted my toenails pink earlier that day. I stared at the nailpolish and the linolium.

God lifted my chin and looked at me. I must've been horrifying. My eyes were red and my lips were trembling. I felt pathetic and weak. I stared at God's shoulder for a while, which was sunburned and kind of peely. I hadn't even noticed what he was wearing this time. My eyes wandered a bit to scope him out; neon yellow swim trunks, purple flip flops and a white tank top. He had Ray-ban sunglasses pushed up into his bushy white hair, and obvious tan lines from where they had been. Somehow, even after leaving a trip to Hawaii to be with me, he still smelled like a damn bakery.

"Honey, what's wrong? Can you talk?" I said nothing. I stared at the floor again and let the tears roll silently onto my chest as I put the mug on the counter.

What happened next was nothing short of incredible. God looked at me and started crying. He pulled me away from the counter and hugged me, crying into my hair. I felt it unfair - he smelled like cinnamon rolls and I smelled like puke and bad wine. I didn't know what to do. I just stood there with my arms at my side and let him hug me.

"Honey I'm so sorry," he sobbed into my hair, which was now wet with tears. "I've missed you so much, why did you leave? I even came by your apartment once - I wanted to drop off cupcakes. I made them with this new flour I found in Paris... They were really good... And you just weren't there to taste them. I can't tell you how sad that made me. I felt like a frigging Pink Floyd song."

I knew which song he was talking about. It was one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs. "Wish you were here," we both said at once with crackly voices.

"Yeah!!!!" he said and smiled at me. We both stared at each other for a minute before He broke the silence. "Hey, um, can we sit down? I'm not feeling too good at the moment."

I nodded and we moved over to the couch, sitting on opposite ends staring at each other like two conundrums.

"I got you something," He walked swiftly to the front door where he'd apparently entered without my hearing him. He picked up a large pink backpack and came back to the couch, rustling through it's contents. He pulled from it a large yellow bear wearing a white shirt with "HAWAII" on it.

"Here, I thought you'd like that," he handed it to me. I smiled and gently fiddled with it, playing with it's ears and adjusting it's shirt. "Megan?"
"I'm sorry," I said, cutting him off as I stared at my new bear.
"Sorry?" he asked, looking puzzled.
"Yeah. I'm sorry," I said once again, wiping my face of fresh tears. "I was being selfish."
"Hon, listen - I've been watching what's happened to you. I can't tell you how sorry I feel that this is... What you go through."
I fell quiet.
"I can see in your head - you're thinking like you always do. 'There are people who have it worse and I shouldn't be so ungrateful', you're thinking," he snorted and attempted a smile. "Yes there are people who have it much, MUCH worse than you do... But that doesn't mean you have to be immune to the things happening around you. This is a lot to handle. I don't have to reiterate everything to you because I'm sure you're still reeling from what happened a few hours ago..."
We stared at each other again. I hugged my bear, which I'd silently named Waii.
"You have people that want to be there for you. Your Mom and Dad and friends love you very much... You should let them. You should let me."
"I thought you'd-"
"Forgotten about you. You're one of my favorite people. I mean, yeah I love everyone and there are some pretty cool cats out there, but you're pretty special to me. You feel things like other people don't and your heart is genuine. You just want to help, and you expect nothing back. It's really cool."
"Doesn't -feel- cool. Feels like I get dumped on by one of those huge smelly garbage trucks."
"Haha," he shifted. "Yeah. We all know that feeling. I do, especially. Every time you do, I feel it ten times worse."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I do... You and I have a pretty strong bond, no matter how much you try to block it out. You can't ever hurt me, dear. All I feel is love for you, even when things are bad." silence fell over both of us again. "Megan, there are people that want to be there for you. You should forgive your pain right now... Allow yourself to be hurt, and talk to them. Talk to me, even. I'm never -NOT- listening to you. You have quite a melodious voice, after all. Which I totally won't take credit for."

He grinned sensitively and continued on. "Please move back to the apartment next to mine? Those cupcakes are just going to waste if you don't. I'll keep dropping them off there and whoever moves in is going to be very confused as to why they have cupcakes on their counter, and even more baffled as to why they spell out "MEGGUMIBEAR" in those ever-so delicious candy letters. There will be foreign people screaming in strange languages about cupcake ghosts and ranting to the landlord about how the joint is haunted."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at the thought of a tiny old Spanish woman yelling "¡El diablo! ¡El diablo vive aquí! ¡FANTASMAS! ¡Fantasmas del caramelo!"

"Gladly. Can't pass up the cupcakes," I smiled from ear to ear.
"Well they are quite -heavenly-... HA!" God always was the king of bad puns.

I smiled gently and curled up in a ball on the sofa. He pulled a large fluffy green blanket out from his backpack (how it fit in there, I have no idea - I guess God is like Mary Poppins with that trippy carpet bag) and threw it over me. We remained there, watching Clerks 2, laughing at Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes. It seems God likes movies a lot too, and seems to favor the View Askew collection.

He didn't even have to tell me what happened. Through all my emotional crap, I knew deep down (though I didn't want to acknowledge) that God could hear me crying, tonight. When I started throwing up, he urgently excused himself from the bar at the beach and popped over here because he didn't want things to get worse. Crappy wine is always a bad choice.