Aaron's life is shit. Aaron wants to end his life. Aaron's life isn't worth living. Aaron sits at a barstool, sucking on a bottle of beer, looking around The Pig. Animals are everywhere. There are animals in the stools, animals in the booths, animals at the piano.

Laugh at Aaron now.

They're all animals, you see. SCABS animals. They're animals, too. They were all animals doing animal things. You should hate animals they're not cool. Hate Aaron for that reason. Never hate someone for that reason.

Aaron finishes the last of my whiskey and stumbles out of the seat and looks around the bar. They all look back at him. They all hate him. They all think he's a failure. Well, of course they don't actually think that but that's what Aaron thinks. Aaron thinks they hate him. They think Aaron thinks they hate him. They all hate him because he's a failure. They all hate him because he's not rich anymore. It's their fault that they hate him.

See, Aaron was a rich guy who had lots of money and lots of people asking for it. Now he is poor. Now he's not rich anymore. He has no money. Poor people are funny. Laugh at Aaron again.

I never talk to them. They hate me. I hate them. They want money. I don't have money. Because they want money that I don't have, they can't be happy with me. They hate me.

Aaron's eye was caught by a rabbit sitting in the corner. He was a dark gray color, and leaned over his drink with a angry face. I walked over to him and sat down. He didn't say hello to Aaron. He hated Aaron, just like you should. Well, no, I shouldn't tell you to hate Aaron, because you don't know Aaron, and because you don't know him, you have no right to hate him, but for sake of the story (and since I don't want to go back and change that last sentence) you have to hate him. Okay?

"So, do you talk?" I said.

"Not usually." He fluffed a little of his white fur, and wrapped his fingers around a large glass of scotch.

Silence. A large, fat cheetah ran up to me, gave me a big hug and said, "I'm Jubatus. Don't worry about Phil; he's always like that." Aaron turned him into a rock. The rock fell on Aaron's foot, and broke his paw. He yelled, "Fuck!" Laugh at Aaron now.

Phil turned and looked at my toe. "So you dropped a rock on your foot, no?"

"Yep."

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yep."

"I know; I dropped a rock on my foot once."

"You did?" He took another sip from his bottle of beer and nodded. Beer is good.

"You did that to Jubatus, didn't you?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I felt like it."

"Nice job."

Splendor and Rydia came up to Aron at the same time. Aron looked at both the rabbit and the vixen. He smiled and walked off with them.

"So, you're here for some reason," Phil said. Phil is a smart one. Phil hates people. Phil is loved by all. Phil can really rock it out.

Are you remembering to hate Aaron? Just making sure.

I ordered a pint of scotch. "Yeah. Everyone hates me."

"But did Jubatus hate you?"

"Jubatus was being nice, that's all."

"He didn't hate you."

"He probably hated me. Everyone hates me." It was crowded at the Pig. Someone bumped into my arm. It was BlueNight. Now you're not supposed to hate BlueNight, okay? BlueNight can rock it out like a black man on acid, but not as badly as Phil can do it.

"Hey, you're using my name," the real BlueNight said.

"Sure thing!"

"But that's plagiarism."

"What's plagiarism?"

"It's bad." With a wink Aaron turned him into a piece of vanilla bean cheesecake.

Now we're going back to Phil. Remember that Phil can Rock it out, and you're supposed to hate aaron. Aaron = hate, and Phil = good. Got it?

"I don't hate you."

"Why not?"

"You don't give me any reason to."

"Well, what if I did this?" Aaron looked down at some mousemorphs and stomped on them.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do you hate me now?"

"Of course! Those were good friends of mine!"

I threw myself at Phil. "See? I told you everyone hates me. Why do you all hate me? I should kill myself."

Phil beaned Aaron on the nose. "Nobody hates you. You can kill some mice, but no one will ever hate you." Continue to hate Aaron, though. It's not good to stop hating him now, for the story gets worse. Just giving you a little hint.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Gee, thanks Phil!" At that very moment the mousemorph's parents ran in and shot them both, thereby ending the story.

"If only they read Ph33r P|-|/\<T0R's work," one of the parents said.

FIN!