to understand all the sick memes in this story watch the following:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIYF9exhm-Q
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LG1eULv3e8
The Hands were holding each other. Times were hard for hands. They had been working at various fast food shops for t he last month trying to gather enough cold hard cash to get a roof over their knuckles with no luck. They had no place to wash themselves and they were slick with fryer oil from their last Micky D gig.
Just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, their landlord kicked them out of their half bedroom apartment. They didn't think they'd survive. They had to do the unthinkable just to be able to stay out the harsh cold for the night. They had the do... their /hand job/
They dragged their fingers across the concrete, heavy with the knowledge of what they were prepared to do. Their pimp had already informed them of the location and the fact that they had 2 clients. Apparently... they were into some weird stuff. Something about some other guy named Stevie B. The Hands were feelign too down to even questioni t, they just sullenly made their way down to the projects to begin their cursed work.
They hundled together as they fingered the filthy streets, "How did we end up this way?" they wondered. They had such a loving childhood, so where did it all go wrong? That's when the flashbacks came in... the Hands clamped together to shake off the horrifying thought, and carried on. "Halfway there," Lefty signed.
To take their mind off their deep dark past they instead cracked each other, an exercise they had often done whenever they felt too pressured. They kept their minds focused instead on the few good moments of their childhood; when they first held hands with someone else. They didn't have tear ducts or hearts, but they still had feelings goddamit. Fingering down the street, they pumped into a couple. They raised their fingernails and took a look at who it could be.
They stood there in shock. The only thing they felt was a tiny bit of happiness, for two reasons. One, the couple couldn't tell who they were, after all, the Hands had been worn out from all the tiring work. Two, the couple they bumped into... It was the Feet!
The Feet were the Hands' childhood friend. They had walked to Human Body Elementary together beneath the sakura trees each day. Years had gone by since then, though. Things were not the same but The Hands still felt elated at the sight of them. Their nails were polished and painted and there was not a toe hair in sight. They were donig good. The Hands supposed that they had enough time for some kind of interaction.
The Hands signed to the Feet an apology, but the Feet turned away in disgust. "Who are these two?" they asked each other. The Hands were fingerbroken. The Feet couldn't tell who they were, they had become something horrible. Hell, even the Hands didn't know who the were anymore. They signed a tear and fingered away in despair. They stopped at the front of Rotolo's, looking back remembering the last time they saw feet. Back in highschool, 1969, on April the 20th to be exact. They had heard the Feet were getting an exchange to Faytesh Catholic High. They signed one last tear before walking in to meet the client.
The shop smelled like the broken dreams they had abandoned long before they had resigned to this life of dirty work and... /hand jobs/, and of course, pizza. The shop was empty except for two individuals sitting at a table. One was a girl that looked like 12 with short bobbed hair, donning a meme shirt. Across from her was a male much taller with rather large feet (the Lefty signed a sigh to the Righty at the bittersweet parting of The Feet that had only occurred moments ago) wearing shades over his eyes and grapes in his hair. Were these their clients? Fingering themselves over to the table with slippery steps, they signed, "Are you... here for the goods?"
The girl looked to the male and whispered, "You're the nerd, what're they saying?"
The girl spoke in a large variety of fluxuations in her voice "I don't know you emem I don't speak Chinese!" The Hands were highly confused. They fingered away but stopped at the sound of the voice of what sounded like... an angel. The voice spoke in unintelligable gibberish, but it was as though the words were dancing in a rhythmic pattern of nothing they had ever heard. They turned around and stared at what seemed to be a god.
"This is our representative." The cool-looking nerd explained, not daring to gesture or point to the mythical beast that stoof before them.
"Take it away Stevie." The girl nodded, wiping away a tear from her eye that she could not explain.
The godly being released another burble of nonsense that sounded to the Hands as a song. All else faded away to white until there was only Stevie B in front of them. Yes, in front of them. Because they could not go back now. Stevie B was the only way forward. Then, the noise stopped. All was silent. Then, Stevie B lifted it's limbs, music began to play, and it was dancing. The Hands was dancing. The Hands understood now what it needed to do. Everything had been made clear.
"Come with me." It signed, and Stevie B conveyed the message through his interpretive dance to the mortals because it felt mercy and compassion toward them.
"Woah, hold up. You can't just take our God with yo--" the cool-nerd was interupted by a glass of sticky maple syrup, "Let him go Lgaon, he knows what he's doing!"
"Fine."
Stevie B knew what was going on. He led the way, the Hands followed close behind, gesturing thanks to the meme-nerd. Soon their troubles would be gone. They would break free of their bonds with their Arm pimp.
The Hands were amazed and blown away. For once their life seemed to have a purpose and direction. The longer they stared at the back of Stevie B, the more of the universes mysteries began to be revealed to them. The hurt they felt from their childhood and from the rejection of The Feet began to ebb away and their mnid felt like the glass of sticky maple syrup they had seen the girl at the table gulp down with ease. God, Canadians.
If Stevie B demanded a hand job, it would be done. And it would be glorious.
Back at Rotolo's the teens had their faces pressed to the glass. "On the other... hand," The girl tired to keep herself from laughing, "At least our pizza was paid for."
The boy grabbed a handgun and screamed, "I CAN'T TAKE YOUR DAMN PUNS ANYMORE" and held it to his temple. He struggled for a moment, then threw the gun to the ground. The gun fired, and flew through the door. There was a shive down lefty's wrist. He pointed to his right and saw Right bleeding there in the cold. Righty fell the the ground as Stevie B danced harshly. Logan saw what he had done, and sprinted out the back door. Chadny sat there still, drinking maple syrup, laughing like a fuckhead while unaware of what had just happened. Lefty signed "This wasn't supposed to happen, Righty... It was just a simple /hand job/!"
Righty knew his life was coming to an end. Stevie B held him in his arms, and he felt as if he knew him his whole life at this moment. Stevie B's Costume disappated , revealing that the person inside the suit, was Ratboy Genius all along.
"I know that there are some things to say," he spoke "but first I must conduct the delay." His rhymes summoned a warm ray of sunlight to shine down on Righty. Lefty frantically signed his love for Righty and knew he wouldn't be here much longer.
"Is there anything you can do for Righty, my liege?" Lefty signed desperately to the Ratboy Genius.
His voice was permanently set monotonuously but somehow it sounded almost sad as it whispered, "Knarck knarck it's me the Ratboy Genius. I just came over to say bye." Then like the dove that had delivered the good news of the flood to Noah in the Bible, the Ratboy Genius began to levitate, a heavenly glow enshrouding his form. His miniature 3D hands took Righty, his blood still running warm, and took a hold of him strongly, bringing him up to the absolute light that shone from the heavens. There there would be no more pain.
"The key... to freedom... from the Arm pimp... it lies in the teens. Find... the ultimate meme.... take it... to them...." Righty managed to rasp out with his last breath before he disppeared beyond the clouds with the Ratboy GEnius.
Lefty knew exactly what to do. He vigorously fingered his way back inside the restraunt and grabbed Cahdny by the neck and signed with his pinky and ring finger, "WHERE'S THE MEME?"
Chadny didn't know how to respond and Lefty's grip grew stronger. Suddenly, he was dazed and lying on the floor. Lgaon had struck him down with his Ahoge. Lefty pulled himself together and apologized. He simply wanted to know where to find the meme.
Chadny pushed logan behind the store's counter and pulled out a little box with a large folded glove in it. She unfolded the whole thing and brought it back to Lefty, offering it to him in place of his friend who was now gone. Lefty stormed out the restraunt in his new digs, fingering quickly to the nearest bus stop.
"Bless ur logahoge, cool kid." Chadny said beneath her breath, patting the majestic and razor sharp ahoge. "Only he can find the ultimate meme... He is ready for his journey with the Glove of Memeries. It is within him. He can do it."
Logan nodded deeply. "Hell yea bitch dis go hard as hell FLOCKA. D I C K S Q U A D"
The bus stop was empty and allowed Lefty time to think things over. Of three things he was absolutely certain. First, Stevie B was a god. Second, there was a part of him and he didn't know how dominantly that part might be, that knew where the ultimate meme was. And third, he was irrevocably and irresistibly in love with this glove goddamn. Was it made of silk or something? Shit, man.
The bus arrived soon enough. It loaded quickly and he looked around at the over fellow bus riders in silence at it took off. Loli's, bronies, hentai... There were all kinds of users riding, and in it's own way, it was beautiful. But he could not see any hints as to where he could find the ultimate meme. Maybe it was time to chat someone up for information.
[6:50:58 PM | Edited 6:52:38 PM] crafty dinner lgoan: He signed to his left and asked "So... what brings you to 4chan?"
The man tipped his fedora in greetings, "We come to seek--" he snorted, "the anonymous."
"He holds... a meme like no other..."
"Are you talking about, perhaps..." He hesitated, wondering if this could possibly seal his fate. He wasn't in the best of places right now. He wasn't sure what he could trigger in these freaks. Seriously dude, that guy over there is in fucking blue under wear with rainbow streamers taped to his ass? What the hell. He continued, " Are you talking about the ultimeme?"
The bus halted. "END OF THE LINE" Everyone rushed off, the fedora'd fuck led Lefty to a secluded alleyway. "I can actually tell you where to find Anon... for a price." Lefty started to slide off his silky smooth glov-- "What the hell are you doing? No I want your hats from TF2." Lefty wondered what a TF2 was? "I can't help you with that sir, I'm not sure what that is," he signed.
From the pocket in the glove (God, who thought of these things? The world could be a wondrous place, and filled with surprisingly useful things). Lefty didn't even have to glance at it to know who it was. The Arms Pimp was up in arms. He hadn't reported back about his client yet. He didn't have time to entertain this clown. Lefty never considered himself a violent person, back in elementary school he'd always stopped to pet kittens with Righty, but right now he had run out of patience.
"Where. Is. Anon." His abrupt and hasty hand gestures seemed to make the fedora'd fuck a little nervous.
"Alright. No TF2 hats. Got it. What about uh... interesting pictures?"
Lefty pounded the space beside his head with his clenched fist.
"Fine, fine! You can find him in /b/ okay? Jesus. I'm going home to my pony porn." He grumbled and tipped his fedora in a flustered farewell. With a new direction for him, Lefty set off for this... /b/
Lefty found it almost suddenly. It was right around the corner. He went in and was stopped by the guards, "Who the hell is you nigga, we don't let no hands in this bitch."
Lefty signed angrily "Listen here you white knight, I'm here to fucking talk to Anon. Now get out my fucking way, you aren't even black." The guard was stunned, and let Lefty right through.
"...Nailed it." Lefty almost wished he'd been entrusted with that cool-nerd's glasses at that moment. All 5 of his fingers felt charged and ready to take action. This Anon would surely help him on his quest for the ultimeme.
"lol i kno what u search 4" a spitty voice with a lisp called from ahead. "the ultimeme. ur lookin for the ultimeme like a n00b lmao'
"Yes... yes I am. You are Anon?"
"listen douchebag ive seen it once. it got me pretty hard tbh ok. if u solve my riddle ill give u a link. i saved it to my gif fodler. my riddle is this: whats the hardest part about eating vegetables'
"lool u fukin' n00b im not gonna tell u sht now leave i haf 2 look at my hentays before mom gets home"
Then suddenly, Lefty opened his eyes and saw the ray of light that had taken his kin away earlier. Stevie B's voice rang down from above unto him, whispering the answer to the inane riddle of the Anon. He granted him the ability to sink to the Anon's level and think like him. It was painful, but he knew the answer and he managed to choke it out.
"The... The answer is the wheelchair." THere was silence before an automated ding announced that a download was starting.
"that was p good for a total asswipe. no more tiem 4 u though i got some dickin around 2 do if ya catch my drift trololol'
Wincing, Lefty accepted, ignoing the ring that announced him that a text had been sent to him. In fact... several. The Arm Pimp could not be satiated for long.
I'm not sure where to go with this. But Lefty had many trials to endure. Some of them hard, some easy. Finally, on his way back out with the ultimeme, the Arm Pimp found his way to /b/. One last time he called for help, but it was not Stevie B, oh no. It was Dr. Dick.
His songs made everyone that heard it merry and also very horny. Only Lefty, having no genetalia (unfortunately) was immune to it's incredible charms. He watched before his eyes as the Arm Pimp flexed it's muscles for the Dr.
"Doctor, aren't these pythons sick?" Arm Pimp whispered seductively.
"I'm not a veterearari annaian " Dr. Dick managed to say between his groovy singing.
"Who cares. Just take me now." Lefty had never seen his pimp so vulnerable and utterly aroused. He prayed fervently to his god for guidance, then to his amazement Dr. Dick sang.
"I will take you with me for eternal loving if you release this tortured soul."
"Done, done, and pls let me cum."
Lefty went to the teens and shoved the ultimeme up lgaons ass the end
