[ IP ] Stained

( ( This is a story prompted by [ this image ] ( https: //s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/4b/e9/07/4be90711bf9627af5921fd50ce867721.jpg ) ) ) 
 
 `` The thing about toons is that they want to be bopped in the head. You'd presume that what they really want is to live normal lives, unmolested by the vast majority of humans, secure in the knowledge that they ca n't die, that they're immortal, unchanging, blessed, but that's exactly what the problem is. 
 
 `` Toons, as they're colloquially called, or `` cartoons'' if you want to be pedantic, are immortal, unchanging, and they consider it their greatest curse. Locked into the same small range of actions, allowed only a few choices, filled with a quiet sense of desperation that things will never change, that things will never get better, that they will always continue as they have been and since things have n't been so great up to this point, the future does n't look so great either. 
 
 `` Which is why they're always dropping things on each other's heads. They're hoping for a concussion. You see, when a toon forgets itself, when it ca n't remember who it is or what its scripted behavior is, it's literally off script and for that brief moment, a toon is free to choose. Free to do whatever it wants. Free to settle down and become an accountant, or to grow up or to do that one occupation that no toon can ever manage, to work as a librarian. 
 
 `` Of course there's occasional collateral damage. Toon attacks sometimes spill out into the real world, which is what happened to Bret. I loved him, and a toon mistook him for another toon and dropped an anvil on his head. Bret did n't get any stars around his head, though, he did n't get any cuckoo-clock popping out of his mouth, it just killed him. I dropped to my knees and started screaming and as I looked at the blood on my hands, I swore I would replace every drop of blood with toon blood, that I would bring home to them the same pain that they brought to me. That whether they were actually culpable, whether they were capable of thinking through what they did or were merely straining against the bonds of their programming in a futile attempt to regain freedom, I would in fact free them and allow them to move on to wherever it is they go when toons die.'' 
 
 *** 
 
 `` Ladies and Gentlemen, you've just heard Thea read the opening paragraph of her new show,'The Death of The Toons'. Her paintings are in the gallery through the double doors on your right and we hope you enjoy the introspective look into the imaginative world of cartoon deaths.'' 
 
 I looked down at my hands. Imagine his surprise if he knew that toons were real. 
 
 > There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist. 
 
 > [ More by me ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/ )
