'Holy shi-'. I was dead. Judging by the truck hurtling towards me at 80mph with diaper advertisement painted on its side before I was consumed by this darkness, it not a very dignified death. After the initial shock had passed I stumbled forward a little with my mouth still very much aghast. It had not been a very good day so far.

Twenty-three minutes earlier

Oh I love you so much. I kissed the warmed polystyrene container my hand was so firmly grasped around with religious fervor- the judgemental glares of those around me doing nothing to dissuade my passionate love affair. I broke off my brief foray into relationships with inanimate drink vessels to give heartfelt thanks to the heavens. You see it was that very morning that I came to a shocking discovery, I hadn't drank a hot chocolate in easily a decade. I woke up that fateful morning knowing with bone-deep certainty that it had been too long since my last hot chocolate, too long since my last sip of that divine nectar. Today, life had a purpose. Today I would drink from the molten rivers of culinary perfection. The anticipation was almost more than I could handle. All thoughts were hot chocolate thoughts, and all hot chocolate thoughts were good ones. So, it was with possibly the most genuine smile I'd had and even felt in a while I raised the cups lip towards mine. The bliss I felt in that moment was better described as a deep fulfillment, a purer from of happiness than us humans are used to experiencing, simple happiness that so often alluded me in the daily 8 hour work and rest cycle I lived in. It's the joy that can only be derived from the simple things, the unadulterated contentment you get from gazing out a beautiful landscape or smiling while listening to beautiful music. It's that happiness you feel when the mind takes time to relax and appreciate, and maybe even your eyes water a little. It's the feeling you wish to share with others and maybe even that one person you find yourself in love with; not that you want to gloat and show off how perfectly happy you're feeling, but because you just really want them to feel it too- you want to be able for them to somehow experience the elation your feeling. Yet, just as the first wave of flavor poured over the tip of my quivering tongue. Before the first mouthful of this velvety chocolate perfection could coat my mouth and subsequent insides in a swallow, the cup was knocked from my hand to fall ever so slowly to the ground. My world shattered.

A stupid troll of a human being glanced back with an apologetic grimace.The sun shone on his pale skin as to illuminate the fool to the world around him, to mark him as someone to avoid- a warning beacon to other defenseless civilians. This animal, this scrap of inhuman filth had the gall to tear literal liquid bliss from my lips dash it to the ground and then shift away into a crowd as if nothing happened... Throughout my life I had never felt such rage. My insides seethed. I needed to get away, to flee from this dementor's torturous visage. I couldn't contain the impotent rage within me- I had to flee. Head down fists clenched I walked away from the cafes aged entrance toward the nearest road crossing in the opposite direction to the fiend. I left the cafe's green store front with it's slightly peeling paint and the employees empty promises of soon refurbishment to swiftly walk past it's more dilapidated neighbour- who probably promised much of the same. Then I crossed the next intersection where the paint covering the establishments and occasional apartments turned from the bright yet faded greens, blues, orange and reds of competing small outskirt business to the streamlined blacks and grays of a bustling inner city. Street after street I passed with no quelling. After my angry speed walking time reached the milestone of around 14 minutes I was forced to slow down.The streets were devoid of all traffic due to the preparations for the new Dank parade. Why this stupid city was getting a stupid parade made no sense to me as the new mayor (Barbra Morton Dank, a 68 year old white man) had renamed it a literal week ago. There was only reason this city could ever celebrate, and that was if that despicable drink sundering fiend was ever caught and fairly prosecuted.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I kept walking, albeit with less speed and more shoving, enjoying the excursion of bumping shoulders with a never ending tide of random people and releasing my violent urges in a more civilized manner than the first degree murder I was previously pondering. Ignoring the hostile stares from the human stress balls I was inconsiderately stress bumping, I scanned my eyes over other people like myself pressed in the crowd to the metal fence palisade beside me until I found an empty spot to force myself into. I drew in frantic breaths between my teeth as I waited for the city to bring various parade floats down the long road that ran rigid through the centre of the sprawling city. It was an uninterrupted straight that went uncompromisingly through the metropolis to lands beyond, and therefore was the perfect route for a long public parade. The roads nickname had been the jugular for as long as I could remember and it seemed large even back in the day when I was but a little child in the world, one who still enjoyed the wonders of drinkable chocolate. It was too painful to bear, I had to leave , I had to get home where I could relax and maybe smash the cheap table I had bought and built two years ago that couldn't balance properly.

However, my deepening psychotic breakdown was put on hold while I watched a most probably stolen diaper van veer around a corner about twenty streets down at a speed that put it so dangerously close to flipping over it could have been in a fast and furious movie. It crashed through the faux battlements and continued to accelerate down the jugular to an unrealistic speed before a cop(armed because of the scope of the event) shot its front left tire as it was about to fly past me causing the truck to swerve and collide with me and the fence before me before swerving into the buildings behind me. Belatedly I realized all other civilians had fled away form the rampaging vehicle while I was simply staring at it. So, it was such that the collision with this diaper truck ended my pitiful existence. The manic diaper drivers one victim being me, Monson Wells, the man who was denied a hot chocolate and died in a haze of regret, anger and agony. That was at least, where I thought it would end.