by Johnny Hollywood
Before I begin this story, I would like to lay bare for the reader to see the headspace I was in when I created this work.
Coming from humble beginnings, a farmer’s son with almost a highschool education under my belt, I’ve found myself lost within the artistic Mecca of the world, New York City. This change from small hick town to the center of the artistic universe has dazzled me to my core. I’ve found myself overwhelmed by the scores of wonderful artists I’ve seen, nearly blinded by their sparkling brilliance.
Having lived here for over two years, I feel I owe a creative debt to the great minds of the New York City Art World and I wanted to create something that could truly be appreciated by the cunning minds and tender hearts present within this city. I set aside all my previous efforts and decided to strive for something that wouldn’t just engage the mind, but stir the soul.
This was a challenge for me, it took a lot out of me physically, mentally, and mental physically, but I do believe this to be my finest work. I feel I’ve created a piece of great importance, worthy of the hungry minds of the New York City artist, something elevated, something that they could truly connect with at their level.
This story is far more restrained, subtle, and cerebral than my earlier work, but at the same time it overflows with passion, love, and sometimes even wonder.
What I’ve done is attempt to capture the very essence of the human soul within words, the ethos of love. As a result, I present something that takes the minuscule under a microscope, something that buzzes with life from word to word.
I ask that you stick with me through this piece, it may be a bit of a challenge at first, it’s slow, methodical, and maybe even controversial, but every word holds a heavy power within it. Once immersed within the world of this piece, I trust that the truth weaved within every word will shake you to your very core.
I would like to thank you all, every one of my readers and the bright minds and beautiful souls of New York City. From the moment I arrived, I’ve experienced nothing but the most gorgeous outpouring of kindness I’ve ever seen, and I continue to receive your beautiful kindness every day. I will always be grateful for the amazing friends I’ve made here. This is the most vibrant community I’ve ever been apart of and I value the fact that every person in NYC is a giant genius with absolute great taste, massive talent, honor, and steadfast art values. You people make art that is worth experiencing, and more importantly, your kindness makes life worth living.
I am so amazed by how open this community is, how accepting you all are, how you don’t value people based on money or influence or “clout,” but instead actually care about the art being produced by your peers, and more importantly, care about the life and struggles of your fellow human beings. It’s as refreshing as it is beautiful. You’re all beautiful, and you’ll all live forever, because I value the artists of New York City, you’re each the greatest geniuses in the world and your work is absolutely worthwhile. People the world over, and especially the people immediately in this art scene, love you because you are genuinely talented. I promise that people the world over will not only remember you all, but truly care about the work you’ve created, and they’ll care about it for years, if not decades, I’m sure.
God bless all you brilliant geniuses. So, without further ado, I dedicate this piece to the brave and brilliant artists of New York City, my dearest friends, who I am sure have worked so fucking hard at perfecting their craft to get where they are at today. I created this work for you because it is the kind of work you all deserve, thank you for everything!
***
It’s late when Kyle gets home, he opens the fridge. Something’s missing. “Chris?” He usually wouldn’t bother, this late and all, but some things matter more than others. “Chris? You awake?”
Chris is in his bedroom, he wasn’t asleep yet, just watching TV. He’s sipping from a mason jar, flipping through channels, when he hears Kyle making all that noise. He comes out to the kitchen, finds Kyle with his head in the fridge, “Yo, what’s up, dude?”
“Hey dude, didn’t mean to bother you, but I can’t find my—” Kyle stares at Chris, he’s wrapped in a bathrobe, drinking out of the jar, and Kyle’s words lose traction in his mouth. His eyes dart, to Chris, to the fridge, to the jar. “…dude.”
“Yeah, dude?”
“Chris.”
“Yeah…what, dude?”
“Dude, are you drinking my piss?”
“…what?”
“Dude, you’re drinking my piss!” Kyle points to the jar in Chris’s hand. Chris holds the jar up to the light, taking time to carefully examine it. It’s pale like champagne, absolutely clear with a light bubble fizz at the surface.
“Kyle, I—”
“Dude, what the hell. I was saving that piss!”
“Oh, dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought it was mine. You can take one of my jars, okay dude?”
Dumbfounded, Kyle echoes “take one of your jars?”
“Well, yeah. My bad, you know? I drank yours so you can have one of mine.”
“Oh, all well and good, dude, all well and good. Except, here’s the thing, Chris, I don’t want to drink your piss, I want to drink MY PISS!”
“I—I’m sorry but I already drank most of it. It’s my bad dude, I’m really sorry. You—you can have two jars of my piss. I’m sorry, I feel really bad, dude.”
Kyle loses what little cool he has left. “Chris! I don’t want one jar, two jars, a million jars of your piss. I don’t want to drink any of your piss at all because your piss tastes like shit!”
Chris recoils. He’s always considered himself a bit of an artist when it comes to piss and to hear his best friend tell him that his piss tastes bad isn’t just an insult to his art, it’s an insult to himself as an artist. “My piss does not taste like shit.”
“Yes it does. Everything about it sucks, it’s flat, bitter, no mouth feel, no hints of flavor whatsoever. You make dull, flavorless piss! Why do you think we have so many extras of your jars, because nobody likes it!
“Now, my piss, my piss is aged, I take into careful consideration exactly what I eat and drink. You can taste the care I put into every drop.”
Kyle swipes the piss jar out of Chris’s hand and takes a sip, teases it over his tongue, “mmmm, hints of vanilla, fruity aroma, full mouth feel, a crisp fizz to it. *gulp* goes down smooth, sophisticated, delicious. Yours on the other hand is juvenile at best, it tastes like a child’s piss.”
This is the breaking point for Chris, having downed several gallons of child’s piss in his life, knowing exactly how flavorless it is, he feels that Kyle has crossed a line. “You know what dude, fuck you! Alright? My piss might not be as sophisticated as yours, but it has one thing yours will never have, passion. I don’t just make piss with my penis, I brew it in my heart. And newsflash, dude, your piss is mediocre at best.”
“Oh yeah,” says Kyle, holding a nearly empty piss jar, “mediocre at best, huh? Is that why you gulped down most of it?”
“Dude, I don’t know what you want me to do at this point. I offered you my piss and you’re being a dick, why are you making such a big deal about this?”
“Why am I making such a big deal of it? Dude, are you serious? Do you understand the work I put into all that piss, the stress on my bladder, the precise diet? I’ve been aging that piss for weeks, it was a special brew! I made it specifically to be served at dinner with my girlfriend’s parents, you know, the same dinner I’ve been planning for a month, the dinner where I was planning on asking her father for her hand in marriage.
“I put all my hopes and dreams into that piss jar and you just gulped it down like a hillbilly! And you’re supposed to be my friend.” Hot tears streak Kyle’s face, it’s a slow collapse of the knees and he’s sitting in a ball of himself on the dirty piss stained floor. “I love her, dude. I really needed that piss jar…”
Chris kneels down beside him, unburies Kyle’s head out of his arms and holds him tenderly by the chin. “Dude, Jessica loves you and no amount of piss is going to change that. As for her parents, they’ll love you for who you are, a kind, tender, playful, wonderful boy.” Chris brushes the tears from Kyle’s cheek.
“But Chris, I promised them piss. They’re counting on me. I can’t show up empty handed.”
“Then I’ll help you. We’ll make more piss, together.” Chris sticks his hand out, Kyle looks up, looks into Chris’s gleaming eyes, sees the conviction in them. Kyle grabs his hand, they pull each other into a hug.
“Yeah,” says Kyle, “together.”
“I love you dude.”
“I love you too, dude.”
It’s all smiles and tears now, a ghost of a kiss threatens their lips. They don’t need to say it, but somehow they feel that together, they can achieve anything they put their minds to.
***
There’s a knock at the door. Kyle smiles, “ha, well, I better wash all these tears and boogers off my face, would you get the door?”
“Sure dude.”
While Kyle’s blowing his nose in the kitchen sink, all over the dirty dishes, Chris answers the door.
At the door, it’s their mild mannered neighbor, Mr. Johnson.
“Oh, hello Mr. Johnson, what can I do ya for?”
“Hey Chris, I’m doing some baking and was wondering if I could borrow a few ingredients.”
“Of course, come right in.” Chris leads him down the hallway.
Kyle calls from the kitchen, “Chris, who is it?”
“Just our mild mannered neighbor, Mr. Johnson. He’s here to borrow some baking stuff.”
Kyle pukes a little then takes his head out of the sink, “oh, hello Mr. Johnson.”
“Hello Kyle, nice to see you.”
They’re all standing in the kitchen now. The sexual tension dances through the air like a faggot. “Well, Mr. Johnson, what can we get you?”
“Well, me and the wife are making an angel pee cake and I was wondering if we could borrow a jar or two. I’d make it myself but, well, when you get to be my age, the stream dries up quite a bit, hahaha. And well, I’d ask the misses, but,” and he playfully nudges both of them, “well, you both know how girl pee tastes, hahahaha.”
Everyone gags at the thought of drinking girl pee, but then it resolves into a light hearted laugh. “Ew, girl pee,” says Chris.
Kyle checks the fridge for piss, all that’s left is two jars, one of Kyle’s brew and one of Chris’s. Kyle considers it, his jar still needs to be aged for some time before it’s suitable for fine drinking, but it’d be perfect for baking. But then again, it’s his last jar…
Chris sees his jar in the fridge, his latest work, and he feels that it may be his best. It would be a shame not to drink it… but it’d also be a shame to waste Kyle’s excellent piss.
The two look at the jars, then to each other. At the same time, they reach for their respective jars and offer them to their neighbor, and at the same time they say, “here Mr. Johnson, you can have my pee.”
They turn, lock eyes, realize what they’ve done, bite their lips and laugh playfully. They both say, “oops, I mean, you can have OUR pee.”
“Wow, thanks boys. This piss looks great! Thank you so much, I’ll be sure to send over some slices once it’s out of the oven.” He turns to leave and when he’s nearly out the front door he turns around, over his shoulder he says, “oh yeah, one more thing…”
A whirlwind kicks up around Mr. Johnson, smashing every plate and piece of furniture Kyle and Chris own against the wall, ruining their entire house, shattering the windows, ripping the studs out of the drywall, lightning strikes the mild mannered Mr. Johnson, all at once, starting a small fire within the house, transforming Mr. Johnson into the mighty PISSMAN.
Kyle and Chris are astounded, they shout, “Oh my God, dude, it’s PISSMAN!”
PISSMAN offers a hardy laugh, “Hahaha,” and flexes his penis into a heroic pose. “That’s right, boys. It’s me, PISSMAN.” And with his big penis he points at the two of them, “and I need your help.”
“Wow, PISSMAN, you need our help?”
“Hahaha, yes! My archnemesis, Incontinence Man, has stripped me of my Piss Powers by placing a forcefield within my urethra. Luckily, I know his one weakness, being soaked in piss. I need you two to make gallons of piss and throw it at him, lowering his shields long enough so that I can fucking kill him.”
“Yes sir, anything for you, PISSMAN,” says Kyle.
“But PISSMAN,” says Chris, “there are billions of people who piss into jars and drink it all over the world, why us?”
PISSMAN rests his cock on Chris’s shoulder and explains, “well, son, I heard your argument earlier with my SUPER PISS HEARING, and I heard how you two resolved it. Right then, I knew for sure it had to be you two, especially when you both offered me your cherished piss. You see, Incontinence Man is a dangerous adversary, we’ll need more than just strong piss to take him down, we’ll need something stronger, we’ll need the power of friendship!”
Kyle and Chris look at each other, then back to PISSMAN. “Okay, PISSMAN, we got your back, let’s do this.”
***
They immediately get to work. Kyle and Chris gulp down gallons and gallons of water and piss it out into a kiddy pool. With his SUPER PISS SPEED, PISSMAN rapidly fills up gallon jugs in the sink and hands them over to the boys to suck down.
After an hour of straight pissing, the team starts to feel the strain. “Ow,” says Kyle, “I feel like my urethra is getting stretched out from all this piss.”
“Me too, dude, look.” Chris shows Kyle his penis, his urethra looks like one of those earlobes that got stretched out by those big stupid-looking gauges people used to wear a decade ago. It looked like Chris could stick his whole finger inside it without touching the sides. Kyle was tempted to pop a finger in, and maybe Chris was hoping for it…
“You boys have to keep going,” says PISSMAN, “the city’s depending on you!”
The two strain harder to squirt piss from their dicks, veins popping out of their foreheads and cocks, they hold on tight to each other and try their best to squeeze every last drop out of each other. Tears well in their eyes.
“No crying,” says PISSMAN, “save it for piss!”
After six hours of continuous pissing, they’ve filled up the pool, with piss.
“Very good boys, now let's have a taste.” PISSMAN dips a ladle in and takes a sip. “Oh no.”
“What is it, sir?”
“This piss, it’s too weak to defeat Incontinence Man, we need to strengthen it.”
“But PISSMAN, how do we do that?”
“You two need to slurp up all this piss and pee it out again, it’s the only way.”
They’re both unsure if they can do it, but they look into each others eyes and know that the strength of their friendship can overcome a kiddy pool filled to the brim with their own piss.
Hand in hand, they kneel down and start slurping, and something surprises them. The piss isn’t just Kyle’s and it isn’t just Chris’s, it’s the perfect blend of the two, and they realize that the piss they're drinking now is the most delicious piss they’ve ever tasted.
It’s so good that they empty the pool in a little under 25 minutes and lick the bottom for stray piss droplets. They immediately start pissing it all out again. PISSMAN tests the strength of the new piss, “This is the strongest, most delicious piss I’ve ever tasted. It’s complex, fruity, dignified, passionate, and most importantly, it tastes like friendship. You two should be proud.”
They bottle all the piss into EZ Xplode Tactile Piss Jars and set out in search of Incontinence Man.
***
Incontinence Man is in the middle of the city square, carrying out a ‘demonstration’ for all those around him. He twirls his handlebar mustache in one hand while holding a crowd of a thousand people at gunpoint with a pistol.
In the middle of the square, eight pregnant women. “Hahaha, yes. Now, watch as I show you all the meaning of Incontinence, by making sure these eight pregnant women, who are all nine-months pregnant, never give birth to these babies, hahaha.”
In a panic, the women try to give birth but find they cannot push the babies out at all. “No! I can’t push it out!”
“You monster! Somebody stop him!” someone shouts from the crowd.
Incontinence Man instantly shoots and kills that guy. “Hahaha, yes, now all you people watch as I, Incontinence Man,” and from his breast pocket, he pulls out a wire coat hanger, “abort eight fetusi in front of you all. And the best part is, nobody can stop me, not even your beloved PISSMAN.”
Then, from out of the crowd emerges Kyle, Chris, and PISSMAN. “Stop right there,” says PISSMAN.
“PISSMAN?” says Incontinence Man.
“That’s right! And now, your reign of terror is about to pass.”
“Oh, don’t be so sure, PISSMAN, I’m sure I can work out a way to…” and he fiddles with his wrist mounted computer, “clog up your plans.”
Incontinence Man presses a button and PISSMAN reels in pain.
“AAAAHHHHH!”
“PISSMAN? What’s wrong?” says Kyle.
“AH! The forcefield he’s implanted within my urethra, he’s expanding it. AHHH! Hurry boys, the plan, just as we discussed, before I’m completely stretched out!”
“Yes sir!” they both say.
***
It was a hard-fought battle.
Kyle and Chris woke up next to each other in the hospital. “Ugh, where are we?”
“Good, you boys are awake,“ says PISSMAN, “you’re in the hospital.”
“Did we win?”
“Hehehe, yeah boys, we sure did. It was a hard-fought battle, I took a pretty bad beating myself.” PISSMAN is in bad shape, two black eyes, an arm in a sling, swollen cock and shriveled balls bulging out from his latex superhero suit. “But we gave it our all, and we did it.”
“What happened?”
“We were ambushed, thousands of henchmen clogging in, and I was nearly crippled with my penis under his control, but in the end, you boys soaked them all. The piss shorted out the computer controlling the forcefield in my urethra. Having been blocked up for so long, I immediately pissed myself and then punched him in the back of the head, instantly paralyzing him. Then I boxed his ears and killed him. But before we could celebrate our victory, you two passed out from dehydration, so I flew you to the hospital, and here we are.”
“We did it, Kyle.”
“Yeah, we sure did, dude.”
“You two are heroes, we saved the city together, as a team, and as a little token of my appreciation, I’d like to give you something special. Drinks on me, boys!”
PISSMAN pulls down his pants, revealing his battleworn but still larger-than-average cock. He walks up to their hospital beds and starts pissing directly into both of their mouths, they love it! “I’ve dialed in my piss precisely to pass along my Super Piss Powers. Drink long, my friends, because each mouthful of piss will transform your DNA, molding you into super human beings!”
And with each successive mouthful of hot piss sloshing in their mouths, Kyle and Chris felt their DNA break apart and transform into something extraordinary.
Unfortunately, their story ends soon after. PISSMAN underestimated the strength of his piss. Within a day, Kyle and Chris’s skin fell off due to extreme radiation poisoning and they died next to each other in extreme pain. In fact, every nurse, doctor, and patient in the building suffered extreme radiation poisoning, killing many.
The event was swept under the rug in order to protect PISSMAN’s reputation. Instead, it was reported that two brave friends, Chris Edwards and Kyle Dunn, gave their lives to protect their city from the evil Incontinence Man. They went down in history as true American Patriots.
Inspired by Chris’s and Kyle’s valiant efforts, one of the pregnant women they saved from Incontinence Man’s forced abortion scheme decided to name her infant son after the heroes.
On April 8th, 1972, American Sniper Super Soldier Chris Kyle is born. Hailed as the greatest American hero of all time, it is well known that, in honor of his namesakes, Chris Kyle would glug down a full jar of his own piss whenever he killed a stupid ugly smelly infant in Iraq.
In honor of Chris Kyle and all our brave fallen soldiers this Memorial Day, make sure to give 'em a mouthful. The boys are thirsty, piss on their graves.
______
Johnny Hollywood is a Famous Millionaire. His work’s everywhere, he’s quite successful!
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