Jul 4, 2008

Funny Death

Death can sometimes be a funny little bitch. 

Just like she was funny for Jeister Mok, The Man Who Could Not Die.

Mok did die in the end. No one escapes the sister of Morpheus and the daughter of life. Death gives everyone a chance for a date. Last date, of course. But Mok had avoided his date for the past three hundred seventy six years to be exact. The day he died was his three hundred and seventy seventh birthday.

Death herself came to fetch him. A special man, our Mok. He knew death was coming, and he was waiting for her. 


More ready than he had been for three hundred and seventy six years. 

Mok sat in the balcony of his mansion, overlooking the vast sea and the mountains as a flock of seagulls flew in a perfect V formation into the sunset. The setting sun cast its orange hues all over the water and everything was made from liquid fire that God himself had used to paint the heavenly scene in front of Mok's eyes. 

He picked up the glass of vodka and took another sip that burned down his old, old throat and settled like a mini nuclear explosion in his stomach. His entrails were on fire the second the vodka reached inside him. He squirmed in his chair and slammed the glass back on the big mahogany table. (The table deserves a mention here. It was a massive piece of wood that could house a small family, a kitchen and two bedrooms under it if need be. In short, it was a massive table.)

More vodka miraculously appeared in the glass. Damn, how he loved the self filling glasses. He downed the shot, neat and fiery, inside him. Might as well drink myself silly considering how long life is now- he thought.

And so, he drank. And so, passed the hours. 

The evening turned into the night and soon the clock in the hallway struck 12. As it chimed away to a senseless world that no longer cared about time, a figure appeared in the open door. She wore a black gown darker than the night and her skin glowed a ghostly white. Black colored her lips and nails. She looked fucking ethereal.

Mok saw her and squirmed in his chair, his breath became ragged, he gasped one final time and slammed his hands on the table.

"FuckinHellFuckingSatanFuckinAllAngelsFuck!." He shouted and collapsed on the big table in front of him. Death, a little surprised, walked up to him and said, "I have come, mortal."

"So have I." squeaked Mok as a figure extracted herself from under the table and bolted for the door. Death snorted in disgust, grabbed Mok's head and slammed it in the mahogany table. 

Again and again and again.


If you figured this out, buy yourself a beer for having a twisted mind. If not, don't bother to ask. ;) 

And forgive me if the formatting is fucked up. We are not doing too good on bandwidth here and have to make do with lot of crap floating around on the internet connection.

Next story, soon.


  1. get the fucking connection dude!
    as for the post..its about death an i have to like it:)

  2. IG...I So WISH I had fucking connections! Sadly I do not :(
    You like posts about death? well, that makes the two of us ;) he he


  3. oh yeah get ur fucking connection!!!

    between i like the way you described death ,really interesting dude...and well wud like to see ur poetries as well :)

    really good

    well waiting for ur next story

    hey wud u mind if i blogroll u :)
    any way perhaps check out my blog ,and leave ur comments ...as even i am a writer an d a poet :p



    The Solitary Writer

    i am coming here for the first time and i liked this space very much ,wud be visiting again

  4. eeeeeeeee.. (you know that sound? Dont bother to ask. I wont tell. Coz even you not up for explaining the meaning of your story.Ughhh.)

    I am NOT asking. Not asking. Not asking you anyfuckingthing. I just hope what i understood is right. :P

    I liked the font colour. (Grreeennnnn..reminded me of goosebumps, that book?) ;)
    I am good at being lame.
    So, you want me to keep commenting like this?
    Waiting for the next story. :)

  5. SW...welcome here man, glad you liked it. But when it comes to Death no one does it better than Neil Gaiman. Catch him if you get a chance.

    will blogroll you too.


  6. Sakshi...most readers here have uttered that sound once atleast. I have never read goosebumps though, but the font was meant as Mountain Dew color, besides makes for good readibility ;)

    i'm the best at being lame! better not compete with me :P

    And yes! We like comments!!


  7. I want a mahogany table too.

    You should've made him 666 years old, would have been a nice referal there.

  8. pardon the rare visits.....but as a rare visitor....you bring more love to the website each time....long live N and satan :-)

  9. I suspect that he didn't know whether he was coming or going but I could think of no better way to slip off yer mortal shackles - heh!

  10. I'm not sure I have a twisted mind then. :/ Meh.

    But I really liked this story! Yes I know it sounds lame since I just admitted that I'm not sure I understood it right. Still, loved the style and theme!

  11. Weird, as we have come to expect Nman! Liked the description of Death, very freaky...how many people were under the table?