The Ship of Theseus is a filosofical… philosocktickle… damnit feebonautical… philosophical! Atta-baby! There we go! Philosophical. Yes, that’s the one. A philosophical debate on whether or not an object with all of its original parts replaced is the same object. I know this because I’m smart and papaw told me about it before he became red.

It’s weird, though. How come those fancy schmancy scholars never thought about humans? If we have all our bones replaced, skin replaced, eyes replaced, heart replaced, and brain replaced, are we the same person? Do objects have a soul? Do humans have a soul?

My head hurts.

Nevertheless, today I’m feelin’ a bit… sophisticated. So, as the genius little lady that I am, I’m going to try and solve the age-old debate those TV people never could! How, you may ask, pardner?

We’re going to the mall!

I’ve always wanted to go to a mall. I heard it’s a magical wonderland filled with literally anything anyone could ever want. It’s a place where wishes become reality and shoppers are all funneled into a singular, shifting mound of bodies and sweat and holiday coupons.

There, I’m going to replace my body. I want them to peel away at my skin, inch by inch, until my red blood oozes out in a wave of discharge. I want to have my red veins ripped out as my voice lets out a guttural, satisfied scream. Every bone will be torn off as my feeble flesh splooges onto the floor like a disgusting pile of wet slop. They’ll grab at my eyes and pull it out, red streaks of gunk flying out while my spine is yanked away, and I’ll fall onto the cold floor, limp. Still. Unmoving. My heart will no longer able to pump along that disgusting red red red red red red red red-

Will I still be the same person? Or will I die, and have an imposter take over the new me?

I don’t know. I-I don’t know.

But we’ll soon find out! Tally-ho, away we go! To redder skies and redder pastures aho!

Wait, crap. I don’t have any money. I cruddin’ HATE capitalism! Capitalism can eat my big fat knuckle sandwich. Worst thing to ever happen to humanity.

Well, second worst thing.

Ima let you in on a little secret, my friend: In this world, you don’t need money no mo’. One time, I went to this little place called a “bank” and the yellow lady over there just stood there while I hopped, skipped, and yahooed all over the place. Stood there! Doing nothing! Can you believe it? She just stood there letting this yellow goo drip down from her eyes and crying away like a wittle ittle baby. I tapped on her leg and she screeched at me and said-

Ĭ̵̡̠̳̟̦̻̳͔̖t̶̢͉͕͍̫̦͈̂̀̍̋̊̐͂͛’̵̛̬͍̅͂̑͗̿͝s̶̢͖̰̖͈̣̗͛̀̒̓̈́̀̕̚ ̸̮̼͈̖̻̼̈̂̌̿̐̚̕̕͝͝c̶̢͚̭͒͆͒͐̚r̸̘̞̜̲̰̤̂ạ̸̢͙̻̅̄̅̈̏̒̓͘͝ͅw̵̧͔̦͙̝͎̓̔͜͠ͅl̸͇͋͂̇̈̈́̓͘̕i̸̢̙͔͈͙̻̤̤͊̋̒̐͗̓̓͒͝ͅn̴̢̬̻͕̲͛͊ǵ̶̮̺̥̘̱͖̩͔͆ ̶̻͕̾̇̒̾̿ơ̵̢̛͑̋̓́͆̀̕v̷̡̢̧̢̛͇͔͔͇̆̀̾̀̊̕ë̸̢̡̳̃̑͝r̵̩̙̪͌̋͌̒̔̎͂͘ͅ ̵͇͓͙̭̯̫̖͇̣̾ͅm̵̜̰̫̖̥͉̄̄̔̌͂͒̕͝ȳ̵̧̓̅̕ ̴̨͎̹̲̀́̌̾͒̿s̶̢̨̩̭̱͔̭̤̰̼͊k̸̨̢͖̦̖̗̾͂͗̈́̉i̶̡͍̠̞͉̠̫͌n̵͔̻̞̪͇̳͎͎̫̓͗͛́ͅ ̶̮͚͙̩̋̋̒̒́͌̊c̷͍̮̞̙͚̥̲̳̋̈͗̈͊̏̀̀̕ͅr̸̻̘̺͈̭̜͓̓̿̈́̎̐̽͝a̸̦̞̟͐̇̌͘ͅw̶̡̨̺̼͇̘͙̣͓̔l̷̢̥͈̝͇̙̞̹͌ḯ̵̦̮̳͒̽̽̌͆̅̑̚ͅṋ̶͈̙̼̂ͅǵ̶͓̪̝͛̂ ̶̧̨͓̆̽͋́͂̓̍͜ȏ̴̢̳̿̉͑͝v̶̝̲̥̓̈́͛͐̈́̈̐͜͝ë̷͚ȑ̴̨̩̖̠͓͖͔͎̽̍̽̓̉̈̔͆ ̵͙͖̘͝͝ṃ̶̰͈̲̼̈̐͒̍ẏ̷̢̪̼͖͚͌̕͝ ̸̻̑͆̌̉̚ḅ̵̧̹̣̤̻̦͓̣̓͌̎̌̑̃́̓̚͝r̵̢̰͕͙͖͛͑͋̀͌͝a̸̺̥̗̪͛͊̀̐͆̈́̓i̴̮̘̘̥̣̪̬͌̈́͂̈́̓͝͠n̸̨͉̝̣̦̙͛̾͒͜ͅ ̵̢̨̜͎̳̬̤̱̲͚̀̈́a̵̢̓͌̐́́̏̕l̸̛̘͙̭̔̊͂͘͝ḻ̵͓̦̲̿̓͆̂͝͝͝ͅ ̷͚̜̇̄̂͘I̶͈̘̰̻̫̾͋̇͝ ̷̩̙̩̱̠̟̭̽͑s̶̫̥͍̮͇̩̜̳̺̖͛̾̍̚̕͝ȩ̷̝͙̼̲̭̬̓̄̍̈̀̈̉̓̄ẻ̴̡͇̗̟̦͎͆͂ ̷̡̳̮̟̬̗̣̺̾̂̚í̶̡̦̳͉̰̿̈̈́͊̒͐̇͆͝ś̵͙̙̭̦̥̂̚ ̸̧͍̭̩̟͕̼͂̔̃̈́͐̅̀̆̈́̇͜m̵̡̺͈̝̜̹̗͔͐̀̇̾̏́̚ŷ̴̨̙͚̞̤̻̺̗̱̙̎̓̓̏̏̚͝͠ ̵̧̬̙̦͔͍̗̊̅̊̌̉͌͜c̷̜̓͠h̸̨̦͎͉̜͕̭͚̝̠̒͊̒ï̴̟̩̍͗̋̃͘͝ļ̵̗̦̥̳̳͓̤̬̍̌͒́̀̋̾͂̑ḍ̷͛͛̀r̴̢̡͓͖͔̬̺̯͆̿̀̉͆̿̎̋͝ͅȅ̷̡̻̤͚̞̙̗̗̲̲̐̀̋̋̔͌͋n̷̨̢͖̦͚͈̩̓͛͐͛͋̿̋̕ ̵̨͖̰͋̄̓̿͛̊͘m̶̮̜̰͓͛́͗̓̍̅͝y̵̧̡̠̥̘͑ ̶̢̧̧̭̮͐̈̅ͅṕ̸̧̨̧̦̖͔͔̻͇̖̀̽̈́ó̷͙̜͎͔̳̌̀̓̽̈́͐̈́̚ơ̵̡̘̱̠̮̹̼͙̄̀̌͛̎̋̓̚͠r̴̻͎͒́̇͝ ̴̼͚̳̠͔̲̃̑̆̾c̵̣̾̍̊̾̈́̚h̵̡̺͔̞̼̻̦̖͇̥͐̊̋͛̎͑̉̕͠͠i̵̡͇̤̪̰̠̦͐l̸̮͍̟̲͙͛͂͠ḑ̸̨̳͍̦̀̅̔̿͛͘r̵̡̳͕͍̍̎̚e̵̟̅̽n̸͍̳̽̌̀̾͗́̈́͋̀ ̸̝̖͊̓̾̆̚̕͘m̸̧͓̦̹̹̟͖̱̔̇̒̆̑͘͜͜o̶̞̺̅͐̏̂̈͘͝m̸̘̪͔͈̠̯͌m̸̹̽̊̒͘͝y̴̧̧̛̖̦͍͕͍̟̓̓̄͒̽̊͘̕ ̷͙͖̂́i̷̛̮͆s̴͎͙̝͔͙͊͊͌̚͜ ̷̨̘̩̟̭̟̯̃̃̊͗̂͗̓͜s̸͓̞̗̩̟͕̰̑̇̇̔o̸̟͖̟̝͐̂ ̷̧̢̼͙̮̟̹̫̮́̀̔̂̂͗͑̃̚ͅs̵̲̮̳͚͓̭̼̓ơ̶̡̗̦͔̮̬̳͙̺̜̄̈̑̂͂̔̉r̸̡̛̠̊̈́͝ȑ̸̢̖̱̱͇̒̂̏̓̓̃̑̈͘y̵̭̻̺̳̜͓͑ͅ ̶̪͒̍̌̏͒̐̕̚͠͝f̸̳͇̼̦͖̈́͆̄͊̓̋̃̄̌ȏ̸͉͙̈́̍͘r̵̥̥̙̱̘̯̟̖͙̀̐̈ ̵̡̛̗͕̝͇̟͕̊̓͛̈́͂̉͘̚ľ̶̨̨̮̦̫͙͖̦̖̇̈́͊̋̃̉̔́̕ë̶̹̭̅̔̌̃̀̀á̶̯̹͌͋v̸̨̢̨̨̨̢̨̛͎͚̹̅͑̆i̵͔̭̞͌̓͐͂́̆͒̕ͅn̴͈̩̳̗̝͙̜̦͛̔g̷̢̼̳̻̗̿̿̃̿̒͊̾͘͜͜͠͠ͅͅ ̶̻͍̃̓̋͑͝y̷̨̱̗͚̫͖͝ǫ̶̨̤̮̯̖̬̥͍̃͛u̴̟̞̔̇̃́̊͐̀͂̂ ̷̢̺̱̥̗͇͎̟̺̬̊̓̂͋͛͑͋̔m̸̳̼̙͕̦̓̐̈́̈̚̕͝ò̷̟̊̾m̶̧͕̠͈͕̗͍̐̍̇͑̊̓̕m̵̙̻͚̯̤̩̖̀̇̈̀͐̏y̵͎̼̦̩̭͓̞̪̑̔͌̈́͘̕͠ͅ ̵̩̮̩̞̲̳͋̅͆ͅd̵̢̙̜̝̟̯̥͉̃͆͛̀͛̄̄͂í̵̭̘̮̠͙̯̐͂̅̈͗̀̾d̶̫̲̠̳̞̤͎̹̈́̊͘͜n̷̩̋̽̍̾̊̊͝͝’̴̧̜͎̱̯̣͎̼̌̆͑̓̅͂̿͆̌ͅt̴͇͈̎̄́̑̊͑̒̕ ̴͍̋c̴̡̫̥̖̟̊͂o̷̳̦̦̮̩̾ṃ̶̡̤͙̞̜͙̇̅́e̷͖̟͓̓̓̒̀̇̈́͝ͅ ̸̛̩͇̲̼̝̪̪̠̓̇̏̿̋̉̚ȟ̴̜̫̙̇̍͗̑͋̍̊͑͜͝o̸͈̒̑̈́m̴̧̛͍̻͍̆͐̄͌͑̅͜ě̸̤̰͘̕ ̵̟̒̈̽̎́̑͗͒͘͝į̷͍̯̠͓̱̖͈̰̣̓n̵̳̟̠̭̟̻̞̠͑̈́̚͜ ̶̢̠͎̭̘̝̥̤͔̭̈́̌̓̇́̿͛t̶̨̡̳̞͚͖͉̖͊̀́͜͜i̴̯͒m̵̧̲͈͖̭͔̥̬̟̄̄̇e̶̮̫̟̻̣̦̊̿̾̓͛́̒̈ ̴̧̍̽̽̾̀Ǐ̶̦̎̀̐ ̸̢̮͓̲͍͔̲̱͒̌͋̂̂̊͝͠j̷̢̛̾̓̏̈́͛̇͗͊u̸͖̪̝͇̱̲̓̆̄̚ͅs̴̢̡͇͉̲͕̩̞͉͌͐͠ṭ̴̪̻͍̯͉͙̗̘͈̐̔͐ ̷̢̛̹͙͚͇̖͕̺͂͌͗w̴̪̣̼̙͖̾͌a̵̙̤̪͍̪̹̯͊͆n̷̩̺̐t̷̨͓͗̃̋̆́͋̆̋̚͠ë̶̡̡̱̰̠͚̬͇͉̌̒̔̈́̋d̷̙̰̳̳̣̳̬͙̣͂̐̓ ̴̨̧̭̘̟̥̇̋t̶̢̛̲͕̤̠̖͂̅̔͌̎̚͜ó̴͉̺͖̇͒͊͛̊͂͋̄͝ ̸̮̓̇̀̓̀͑̒s̷̬̲̞͆͗̇́̓̾́̓͋́ḛ̴͖̺̭̭̔̀̍̔̾̽ȅ̵͍͔̣̳́̿ ̸͍͍̒y̷̳͒̇͊̎̕͠͠͝õ̶̡̱̮̮͖͕̣̇͌͒ų̵̢̢̞̯͚͔̻̚ ̶̛͍̺̗͈̽̀̽̂͗́̒̈́̓m̷̡̛͑͐͆̾͌͝ÿ̶̛̭̤̘͔͍͍͛͗̓̈́̕ ̷̡̞̺̦͐͊̑́͛̿ľ̶͓͈͉̮͗̿̍̈́̃̍̊ḭ̷̠̄̈̆͐́͒́̔̕̕ͅt̸̨̝̝̻̏̚̕ț̷̥͎͎̻͚̝̝͖͛̍l̶͈̰͕̜̈́e̶͉̙̻̖̟̱̿̀̅̆̃ ̷̝̥͛̐̌̿̽̀̂͐a̴̹̺͊͗͌̕ņ̷̯̱̗͉̌͋̅̓͑̈́̄́̄͂ͅģ̷̦̺̱̹̱͕͋̑̑͛̅̅̐͝͝e̴̠̺̠̠̳͎͚̪̽̋͑͋͂͋͐̎̃͠ĺ̷͇̟̓s̸̟̱̯͑̅̚ ̶̧̡͇̮̌̍̋̂̀͆̃o̷̳̰̳̻͗̽̈́́̿̃̿̾̕n̵̪̼̭̆ę̸̬͍͖̰̹̔́͂̌̃̄͂͊ ̸̦̣̳͎̘̾l̴̘͇̺̫̺͈̫̝̻̆̆̔͑̅͂̽͌͘͘ä̶̢͙̺̼́̈̒̎s̷̹̺̺̣̣̦̈̏̎͒̈́̽̎͝ͅt̶͇̫͈͕̄̋̋̋͐͗͂̉̚ ̶̣̺̱̫̥͕͍̦̝͚̓̎̓̆̎̀t̶͍̉̿͋͘͝ì̶͖̜̹̼̍̿m̴͖̳͎̣͙̻͎͂̓ȩ̸̨͚̬͕̩͓̪̞́̀̋̾̅ ̶̡͓̦̭͎͌̒͑͗̈́̊ͅb̵̧̗͎̼͖̱̮̗̈́͛̇̾̏̀̈́̌͝ư̵̢̥̫͖̪̫̥̺̇̀͗̿ͅt̷̡̨͚̙̠͖̐ ̶̢͍̬̖͇̣͇̝̦̐̃̑̕ņ̶̡̟̼͙̱̃̒̋͆̕o̶̧̘̫͇̞͛́͆̇̐̉w̵̨̻̳̩͓̫͍̫̐̀͂͐͘͘ ̷̛̩̠͕̹̟̗͋̈́̋̂͑̄̈́m̵̘̮̳̗̳̆ơ̶̧͉̠͓͚͖̒̍̈́m̷͈̮͋͌m̶̛̙͖̻͈̩̃̈́̏̋̒͘̚ͅÿ̴̧̰̟̖̝̠̜̟̤̼́͋̏ ̸̺̍͋̀̐͝͝i̷̧̝̫͖̩̥͍̱͊͒͗̋s̸̻̼͊͒ ̶̡̛͍̞̞̜̾̐̀̇̀͘̚͠g̷̩̈́͝ơ̶̧͈̝̻̰͔̙̪̜͆̓͐̓͑̐͝͝͝ͅṇ̵͓̜̝̠͈̀̌̿̄̑͐e̷̡̫̭͓̭̞̩͕̲̜͛͒̎̈́̇̕ ̷̬͔̻̦̎̎̏̐͌͐̉͝͝m̴̧̻̜̫͓͇̻̀̍̈̊̐̒̐̊͊̀o̵̺͆̏̒̆m̵̨̮̞̟̩͎̀̑̀͆̉͋̀̈́̕m̵͇͌̅̒͜y̴̨̖̗̯̦̜̙̗͂͘͜ ̴̺̣͎̣͈̘̬̼̈́̏͐͋̊̆͆̀̚i̴̡̢̖̫̓̇s̴͔̱̖̩̼͇̼̳̪̖͆ ̵̢̼̼̹͕̈̈́g̴̻̼̠̓̈́̾͂̊̂͒̇̾̀ó̵̞̬̤̯͎͉̓͑́͝ṉ̴̢̢̨͎̘̮̽͐ê̷̬͇̳̻̈̒̎ ̸̡̛̣͕͚̜͎͔͓́͠m̸̼̤͔̺͉̹̯̱͍̘̾̃̇̈o̵͎̯̤̫̗͈̓͛̈́́̕m̴̱̚m̴̡̓̓̀̔̅͋͛̌͝y̷̲͔̏̇̒͌̊̊̒̆ ̷̨̛͚͇̜̝̰̿̄́͊͝i̷̱̼̜̙͍̮̫͖͆ͅs̶͎͋͒̋̐̑̀́̒͒͠ ̶̨͖̜̭̞̥̫̗̓̏ͅḡ̵̛̳͙͛̋o̷̮͚̹̦̽̾͊͌̔͝n̸̹͖̍̀́̋̕ē̵̖̞̩̙̺͍͓̱̙͆́̀̾̐̍̓̓͠

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Like, ok. Dramatic much, lady? All you had to do was shoo me away. Sheesh. This must be what customer service does to people. Good thing I probably won’t live long enough to ever get a job. Not gonna lie, it looks like it sucks.

Well screw you, yellow lady! I’m gonna have fun fun fun ‘til my daddy takes the red away (fun fun fun ‘til my daddy takes the red away)

woooOoOoOoOOoooOoO

OooOOoOoOooOOoH

YEAH!

Anyways, money. Don’t need it. ‘Dis here’s a bartering town now, mon ami. If you want the goods… you better have the goods you know what I’m sayin’? Hehehe.

I’m talking about stones. Rollin’ stones. The red people take kindly to stones for some reason. I had to use a stone to get papaw to come out of his room and eat at the dining table like a regular civilized human being. Give them a shiny stone, a lumpy stone, a cracked stone, and they’ll be jumpin’ flapjacks with glee yesiree.

And I just so happen to have one such stone is my possession! Yes sah’, it’s a good stone, very good stone, ok, very shiny—you know, if you’re a stone connoisseur, if I were a stone, if, like, ok, if I ran as a stone seller, they would say I’m the best stone anywhere in the world—it’s true!—but when you’re a pebble seller they try—oh, do they a number—that’s why I always start off: Went to stone school, was a good student, went there, did this, built a-

You get the point. It’s a good stone. The very best.

Gallop on, Rocinante! With a whirl, twirl, and swirl we go! To the concrete jungle of dreams!

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

The yellow lady from before… she’s a yellow beast now, and she’s napping in front of the mall entrance. Her tummy is all swelled up like it’s gonna blow any second, and her eyes are all long and icky and stuff like a slug’s eyes.

I think, if I get any closer, she’ll infect me with yellow.

But I can’t let yellow infect me. Red’s already infected me. Red and Yellow make orange, and I don’t want to be orange. What the heck does being orange even mean? Is that an actual saying? “Oh, I’m feeling green today. Oh, I’m feeling blue today.” Those are sayings. People say that. Sometimes. I think… but I ain’t never heard anyone saying they were orange before. I don’t like that. I don’t like change. I want to maintain the status quo.

Looks like I’m going to have to give up on the new me today.

It’s ok, nothing was ever gonna change anyway.

Even if I got a new body, the red would find a way to infect me. There’s no escaping it.

Never.