The Man Who Could Not Win

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This is a demotivational story, designed for people who really don’t need encouraging. If you want to be encouraged, go look at kittens or something. If you want to be amused, keep reading. If you’re hungry, eat some popcorn while reading this. If you’re lost or you mistakenly clicked on this link, read this anyway. 

Marvin walked out of his door and into the weather–more specifically, the bad weather. It was raining buckets, and he had left his umbrella at home.

“Luckily,” he thought to himself, “I have this spare umbrella.”

Marvin never had any luck. Not the good kind of luck anyway. He opened his spare umbrella. Out fell a dead mouse. If you’ve never had the experience of opening an umbrella and receiving a mouse, I can assure you it is not pleasant. After brushing the rodent off of his shoulders, he looked up at the sky–through the shredded umbrella. Unfortunately for the umbrella, it was allergic to mice. Unfortunately for Marvin, so was he.

Marvin shrugged. He didn’t really need to stay dry, anyway. He walked out into the pouring rain. That’s when he realized that his laptop case was unzipped. He reached down to zip it up, but he was in such a hurry that he ran crookedly into a telephone pole. (Most people run straight into things, but that’s far too easy. Marvin never did anything easily.)

When his brain received the message that his head had attempted to knock down a telephone pole, it decided to shut down all systems and make sure everything was ok. In an effort to resolve the situation quickly, his body decided to test the functionality of gravity. In short, Marvin blacked out.

When the systems were all deemed operational, the lights were switched back on, and Marvin found himself lying in the middle of the sidewalk with a strange ringing in his ears and an invisible vice on his brain.

He looked up and found that the sun was shining, and the ground all around him was steaming from the rain. He looked down and saw that he was laying in the middle of an ant hill. He tried to jump up, but in the process he dropped his laptop case, out of which spilled a fizzled laptop, a tangle of cords, and a soggy dead mouse. He bent down to collect his belongings and muttered to himself something about misguided anchovies (he still wasn’t thinking quite clearly).

Once he finally repacked his laptop case and chased most of the ants from his clothing, he started down the sidewalk again. He walked three blocks before he realized that he was heading in the wrong direction. He turned around to head towards his home and was hit in the chest by flying ball of donut dough.

In Marvin’s town, the people have a peculiar habit of throwing uncooked donuts at passersby. The reasoning has still not been worked out, but local superstitions take most of the blame. Most people wouldn’t have been too upset at being smacked in the chest with a donut, but along with being allergic to mice, Marvin also broke out with a rash every time he touched chocolate. Strangely enough, this was a strawberry donut, and it seemed his luck had actually come through. The original donut throwing culprit seemed to be having a slow day, though, so he threw another donut just for good measure–a chocolate one.

Marvin finally arrived at his house. He panicked momentarily, for he realized that he had locked his keys inside, but he remembered that he had left his windows open. His landlord had noticed, though, and closed them, but not before the rain had drenched everything inside.

Marvin was much too tired to remember his spare key, so he broke one of the window panes, cutting his hand in the process. He opened the door just as his roommate showed up with the second key.

Marvin walked in, noticed that the water was still running in the sink, and found out the hard way that the stove burner on which he had placed his jacket was still on high.

“You know what?” He said rhetorically to his roommate, “I just can’t win. I’m going to try to lose. Maybe I’ll fail at that, too.”

So he played chess with himself. He tied.