Daniel Rothwell
In truth I was just looking for words that began with “cat” to justify drawing the front cover. This seemed to fit, given this is actually a cat-alogue of “one sentence stories”(ish). Also, this is was a “C.I.Y.” zine – Colour It Yourself. How exciting!
“But narrative voice inside my head! What's this thing called a one sentence story?” I see you thinking as you read the words on this page. Let me fill you in:
A group of humans stand in a line, and tell a story sentence by sentence in succession.
This is an online version of a printed zine for Beijing Cassette Store Day 2017. Fifty were printed, all but three were given out with the purchase of a cassette. Two remain on my desk. One got lost. I wonder if anyone's actually coloured theirs in.
Nasty Wizards –
'In between making “art”' - Somewhere
Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived a magical cat named Marco Polo who travelled the depths of his owner’s house, and used his Kitty Litter as a time travel device.
Shitting through the winds of time, Marco Polo transported himself back to the age of five minutes ago, because that was before he shat and he realised he couldn’t choose another time, instead of that time he was thinking of but then he realized that it kind of sucked.
Then, Marco Polo found a ball of string, and forgot about all of his worries until Evil Tape Demon Grim Lord burst through the ceiling and asked “What have you got in the fridge, I’m a little bit hungry. Got a sandwich?”.
Marco Polo kindly grabbed his half eaten tuna sandwich from the refrigerator and said “Bro you can have my sandwich, but only if you come with me to Four Corners later, because Tavey’s organizing another Dungeons- -and Dragons meet, and I totally need some of my squad to best that dragon. If you don’t, I’m never going to buy you a Deathstar at Temple. That’s it Bro. Totes.”
Struggleguts
Struggle Session, Spill Your Guts, & Friends - Wuhan Prison
And then, the cat tried pizza, and realized that the pepperoni on the pizza was just another example of slaughter of another animal. That pepperoni was particularly spicy, and the cat was left with hardcore diarrhoea.
“Hey New York city, what's good?” the cat said. “This pizza tastes like the death of another animal. I dig it, man. The sauce is good, it's genuine you know”. He knew what he was talking about. He knew everything about pizza. And then the cat was like “Dude, that was a good slice of pizza, I would like another slice. Another slice of that spicy pepperoni good shit, from New York City.” The cat was enlightened now, on taste level superior to that of a human. A regular human, not living in New York City.
So all of a sudden, the cat started to realize that people were blatantly disregarding the cat, but people don't care about the cat, poor cat. The cat needed to stand up for itself, the cat decided to start a group.
In that group, the cat built strength. And in that group they grew, and they grew, larger and larger, to the point that they were fucking secreting wealth. Wealth and character, and they were secreting many things and they realized that meat is murder.
I'm vegan level three man, I don't eat anything that casts a shadow.
So, as the cat was contemplating its shadow, it realized that existence was futile, because all that casts a shadow, also casts an existential spell on those that contemplated existence. And then the cat realized that the futility of life is nullified, so the cat decided, to end its life.
North Capitalists
Three girls, one guy - North Capital
Oh fuck, I failed again. I don't know how I'm going to actually end this. Maybe I should keep on, and... I don't know. I really just want to fuck a whole lot more.
Or do I? Because that last one was really terrible, I'd like to say that I could try it again but I don't think she'd let me. Or maybe she would let me.
It all depends, because that's the conundrum I'm having right now, experiencing “Do I go for it, do I not go for it? Or did I already do it?”.
I'm totally going for it. I see myself going for it, and...fuck. I feel like I need to shit.
God I'm so horny. Oh god I want that cock so bad. I'm going to behave myself though, I'm going to play coy for just a second, and it's going to involve me fanning myself. I'm going to fan myself, and wear something really fancy, and pretend that I'm a lady, for just a moment. Oh shit, I'm going to shit my lingerie, but who's going to wash it? Who's going to be around to just like, take my lingerie, put it in the bath tub, and wash it?
It's okay. I got it.
I'm going to walk out the door, or maybe not. Maybe I should order something. But what? Kibble? I don't even know if I'm going to get out of the door because I just got aroused by something ridiculous. I'm just watching something about a sixties cult, and for some reason I'm really hot right now. I don't know what to do, I'm just going to rub one out, and just see if I can manage to leave the house afterwards.
So I guess that's kind of a reason to keep living. Is it really though? Just another night, another pussy, another night, another pussy. Is that really the reason to keep going?
I'm sure it is, but then God speaks to me sometimes and she says “mheh”.
Subtropicartists
A bunch of artists outside the Subtropical Market - DDC
“Am I real?” I wondered, as I looked up into the sky, and realized this is not my bedroom. I then went to the bathroom, and found that I couldn't pee. I felt weird! To confirm my theory, I tried to shit, and that didn't work either.
I don't know why I have fifteen cats in my house. I also don't know why I have fifteen willies.
I looked in the mirror, but I found that I'm not human. I then found a lot of Barbie dolls lying on the floor, with blood. So every cat had a Barbie doll, and every cat had to have its Barbie doll before it went to sleep every night. There were fifteen Barbie dolls, fifteen cats, and fifteen dicks. I don't know why this number was special, but it obviously meant something.
And then I said “Woo!” - all fifteen willies got hard, and all my cats were hungry at the same time, and I had to go to a party! I had to get ready!
I dressed up, and drank some shots before I went out. I realized that the cats needed to be dressed so I took the Barbie doll's dresses, put them on the cats, and then found out I had one dress extra.
Even though we had one dress extra, we knew we couldn't wear it because the cats, and me, had the same artist...favourite artist which is Prince. That meant we had to wear velvet. That was our only option to look amazing for the evening.
I looked into the mirror and all I saw were my clothes floating. I saw colours, and shapes, but they weren't touching me.
“Where were all my bits and pieces?” I wondered.
That being said, I have a horrible velvet allergy. I stripped completely naked and ran out into the street.
I was stopped abruptly by my brother in law, and he said “What are you today?”
So at the party, I'm wearing these velvet dresses, and Bob from next door is there, and he's wearing velvet, and covering up his sixteen willies too. Why is he always here? Why is he always trying to upscale me? We knew that the amount of willies would never be enough. The amount of cats would never be enough, so we just had to go home and look at all the cats, look at all the willies, and appreciate how beautiful we were.
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