5X Better Than The Emporer Thread

The Emperor Thread could be topped. We've so many more new members, so many more stories. I'd like to see some people try and top it again.

What challenge are you talking about, also? Shouldn't this be in General Discussion?

I was about 7 or 8 years old, it was Easter, I had painted the eggs and was ready to go to bed, my father left a bowl under my bed for the rabbit to leave his candy, I wanted to see it, i stayed up for a while until a heard my parents Cumming in and dropping the sweets, i felt bad for a while, I realized everything was a lie, Santa clous, the tooth fairy, and maybe god, but i never told them this and played along, i learned how easy it is to manipulate people and i love doing it.

PS. Santa clouse is evil! and i truly feel identified with your father!

The emporer is nekad.

Fuck these idiots. I'm going to make a new thread that's good.

[QUOTE=bl33dth3fr34k;981500]By far not my best work, definitely not even remotely close to Prototype's works of genius. But... In response to Nathaniel Parker's challenge...

Just a simple story from elementary school. I think I was in third grade. My mom and dad had picked me up from school and we drove to go pick my younger brothers and sisters up from daycare. I was sitting in the car with my father as my mother went inside. It was mid-November. I, being a child, was infatuated with the thought of Christmas coming around the corner. My father, being in his early thirties with four children and a serious love affair with alchohol, was quite disillusioned.
I was relaying the gifts I wanted from Santa Claus to my father. He listened silently, groaning here and there at the inevitable high price of my list. He responed with something like, "And how do you suppose Santa is going to pay for all of these things?" I obviously went off on a tangent about elves and reindeer and otherwise.
So, we sat there in silence; I, waiting for his reply, he, waiting for the proper answer to give to a nieve and hopelessly optomistic seven-year old. It's raining lightly and cars are flying past us on the city streets. He looks back to me from the front seat, eyes in direct contact with mine and says, "You know, Santa Claus Doesn't exist. It's completely impossible to travel around the entire globe in just one night. Reindeer can't fly. And for that matter, no one works for free."
I'm on the verge of tears, and yet he continues, "You know no one gets us roofers presents."
Both of us sat in dead silence while I tried to regain my composure before my brother and sister got in the car. I looked down at my lap, sobbing quietly as I tried to rationalize my father's logic. I knew he was wrong, why would people concieve so great a lie as Christmas? Why would the happiest time of a child's year be fake? Finally, I had decided that he had only told me these things to surprise me once again when I recieved those dilligently wrapped packages marked "From Santa." I knew he only wanted to see that happy smile on my face when I saw the few remaining crumbs of cookies and milk left on our ratty coffee table.
I sat there knowingly, full of self-reassurance when he turned around once again. "You know, God doesn't really exist either."

Like I said, it's not the best. So it should be easy to top. I challenge you Nathaniel Parker.[/QUOTE]

Good story, did you end up getting any of those presents that Christmas, you remember? I like the idea of starting a Emporer-type thread about getting joy through pain. But you should edit the thread title to give this one it's own unique kind of identity instead of relying on the other one.
I'll have to think of something to add to this story-wise.

[QUOTE=nathaniel parker;981550]Good story, did you end up getting any of those presents that Christmas, you remember? I like the idea of starting a Emporer-type thread about getting joy through pain. But you should edit the thread title to give this one it's own unique kind of identity instead of relying on the other one.
I'll have to think of something to add to this story-wise.[/QUOTE]

I'm new here. What's all this Emporer thread talk? Somebody fill me in? And is that the same Vallista guy that called the dude a shithead in the other thread?

[QUOTE=bigshrimpn;981570]I'm new here. What's all this Emporer thread talk? Somebody fill me in? And is that the same Vallista guy that called the dude a shithead in the other thread?[/QUOTE]

[URL=http://www.chuckpalahniuk.net/community/showthread.php?t=7219]Here it is.[/URL] I don't know if the "freebies" can access it or not though.

[QUOTE=nathaniel parker;981573][URL=http://www.chuckpalahniuk.net/community/showthread.php?t=7219]Here it is.[/URL] I don't know if the "freebies" can access it or not though.[/QUOTE]

Thanks dude. I can access it but it's closed. I'm sure there is hours worth of great reading on there, how/why does a thread get closed?

[QUOTE=bigshrimpn;981617]Thanks dude. I can access it but it's closed. I'm sure there is hours worth of great reading on there, how/why does a thread get closed?[/QUOTE]

Usually when they get sent to the hall of fame they get closed.
That thing used to be HUGE, I dunno how big it is now, but there was a big bruhaha when they first moved it to the hall of fame. A ton of the posts got lost. It was like half the thread got dumped into cyber-limbo somewhere.
Also, of note, If you look under the Author section, you'll see "Birthday Book". Check that out, they compiled the entire Emporer Thread and had it published for Chuck on one of his birthdays.

Dude that's insane!!! Thanks for the tour. You're right about some of the posts being gone and when the missing ones are commented on afterwards, the desire to know what these posts contained is unbearable. Especially when someone says it was their favorite, much less multiple people stating this. I wonder where the missing posts went? All too cool. Thanks again.

No I do not remember ANY of those gifts I received. I guess that's how childhood is though, we so desperately want things that are not of any real significance in the long run. I do, however, cherish my father's honesty. Maybe it was not the greatest thing to tell someone so young, but I didn't believe him anyway. I guess the story was supposed to be funny in a dark way. I guess it was supposed to show that children are hopeless romantics, and that as we get older we grow more cynical towards them, all while wishing we could recapture some of their faith.
Villista....I play along still, and I'll be eighteen soon. My grandmother will not let me have presents unless I "believe". It's the kind of corny, yet irresistably sweet thing that only a grandmother will do. I'll post a good story about her if someone else will post one first. Come on guys, we don't need to pay to be able to write on here.

[QUOTE=bl33dth3fr34k;981962]No I do not remember ANY of those gifts I received. I guess that's how childhood is though, we so desperately want things that are not of any real significance in the long run. I do, however, cherish my father's honesty. Maybe it was not the greatest thing to tell someone so young, but I didn't believe him anyway. I guess the story was supposed to be funny in a dark way. I guess it was supposed to show that children are hopeless romantics, and that as we get older we grow more cynical towards them, all while wishing we could recapture some of their faith.
Villista....I play along still, and I'll be eighteen soon. My grandmother will not let me have presents unless I "believe". It's the kind of corny, yet irresistably sweet thing that only a grandmother will do. I'll post a good story about her if someone else will post one first. Come on guys, we don't need to pay to be able to write on here.[/QUOTE]

I’m checking out this Imperator field, ad about calling that dud Shit head it was totally a joke (that’s for your shrimp), I got a strange sense of humor a guess. I’m also turning 18, your from 07?

. .

[QUOTE=bigshrimpn;981657]Dude that's insane!!! Thanks for the tour. You're right about some of the posts being gone and when the missing ones are commented on afterwards, the desire to know what these posts contained is unbearable..[/QUOTE]
No worries, [URL=http://www.chuckpalahniuk.net/downloads/birthdaybook/emperortextonlineversion.pdf]here's the PDF[/URL]
and for you windows junkies, [URL=http://www.chuckpalahniuk.net/downloads/birthdaybook/emperortextonlineversion.rtf]here's the uploaded RTF version[/URL]

and if you wanna see the book in pictures and fanfare, [URL=http://www.chuckpalahniuk.net/author/birthdaybook.php]go here[/URL] Lotta cats put a lot of love into it. you can note how much attention Tuffy put into it, before the bastard ran away--wish i coulda known em better. ho-hum.
-kabol

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[QUOTE=Villista;982033]I’m checking out this Imperator field, ad about calling that dud Shit head it was totally a joke (that’s for your shrimp), I got a strange sense of humor a guess. I’m also turning 18, your from 07?[/QUOTE]

Yeah, I just graduated last night. Ok, so since no one wants to respond with a good story, I'll write one myself. Well, not good, but I'll write one. Quit being pussies and post!

Like I said, I'm seventeen, so my experience in life is sort of limited. I did however go through my "experimental" stage quite young. That is to say, I started drinking and smoking and "whatnot" around the same age as most people (12,13), but I gave it up a whole lot quicker. So, as you may believe, the last two years of high school have been an excruciating living hell without having been able to get totally fucking blasted out of my mind. So, I will give you one of my favorite and least depressing stories about reckless times as a "pot head"

On two separate occasions I had the pleasure of getting high with my grandmother. The first time it was sort of akward, but the second time it was absolutely hilarious. We're not a wealthy family by far, don't get that idea. But my grandparents have a cabin about three hours away from where I live. we used to camp in this big field in a trailer we owned for years until all of my grandparents' friends chipped in to help build this big ass cabin. Almost al of the labor was free. Now, to fully understand this story, you have to know a little about my grandparents and their friends. Both my mom and my grandmother were teen parents, so my grandmother is only in her fifties. They both missed out on a lot of their youth. My grandparents both belong to what is called "a van club." These "vanners" for those of you that don't know, were like "druggies" that came right after the hippies. My grandfather told me that he once did heroin. Quite the strange revelation, considering it wasn't in Nam or anything like that. He was actually a little too young to be involved in all that (he's younger than my grandmother). No, it was more of an experimentation at a concert or something like that.

So, anyway, they had to get their acts together sometime in their forties because of drug testing at work. They've told me about the sad day that they had to flush the last of their pot down the toilet. So one weekend my mom and brother and sister and my mom's friend all go up to this cabin. My mom's friend, Rose, was in fact a "new-age" type hippie. She was into wicca and patchouli and all that nonsense. SO, we've unpacked and we're sitting at the dining room table playing cards, people are drinking and having a good time, when Rose asks if I'd like to go for a walk with her. I get up knowingly and we go and sit on a hill just a few hundred feet away from the cabin.

She lights up a joint, and I, smoking furiously in a paranoid fashion abide by the "puff, puff pass" rule with unforseen obedience. My back is to the cabin, and about halfway through the joint I'm a kite and I hear this giggly voice, "Hey what are you guys doing?" I turn to see my grandmother stumbling drunkenly towards us. I beg Rose to put it out, but like a generic stoner she says, "No, it's cool, she's cool."

So my grandmother struggles to come sit with us as she is in such a drunken state. I await her reprimands, but the only words she said were, "Hey, I want some." Rose promptly hands her the joint. I don't remember much fromthis point, except that we sat there for a really long time after it was finished, trying very hard to get up. Eventually, Rose and I stood and lended our hands to my grandmother. She gets up, all of her weight pulling against us. She stands for a moment and begins walking with us toward the cabin. A few seconds later I hear, "I CAN'T STOP! I CAN'T STOP!" I turn behind me to see my grandmother walking quickly backwards down the hill. Her arms swinging in a strange attempt to stop herself. She's almost squatting when, eventually she gives in and rolls backward about twenty feet down a fairly level hill. We all burst into uncontrollable laughter which was all the more irrepresible once we arrived inside about an hour after our departure.