Unsane Sam – Chapters 3&4

Chapter 3

I am the No One from Nowhere. The No One from Nowhere will tell you a story about Sam. Sam has always wanted to write a story. Sam has always wanted to write about killing or murder or war. But Sam thought about what underlining message that could send.  So Sam wrote nothing. And now, I will also write nothing. My nothing is Sam. Sam is the perfect nothing.

Sam is Unsane. Sam has a great mind, but like so many with great minds, Sam has been blessed with zero personality. Sam is overweight and extremely hairy. Sam is almost as hairy as a Sasquatch. In fact, Sam was voted by his class in high school, most likely to be mistaken for a Sasquatch in the San Joaquin Mountains.

Sam has two roommates that he never sees, a job that does not work and a lover he doesn’t love. Sam smokes cigarettes that are smoking him to death and Sam drinks scotch whiskey that does the same.

But let’s get back to the lover he doesn’t love. Sam has an inept capability of making girls fall in love with him even though he is hindered by his Neanderthal appearance. The problem here is that the only girls that fall in love with Sam are girls that he genuinely has no interest in. Or to put it another way, he can’t fucking stand these women. Sam hates them. They annoy him to all ends.

Sam has sexual intercourse with all the women that fall in love with him. He does this only to keep in good practice so that when he does find a girl that he loves, he can impress her by all the different ways that he can make her climax. If Sam doesn’t have sex with these women, he fears that he will forget how to fuck well, or worse, become so unfamiliar with the opposite sex that he will end up premature ejaculating at the first sight of a naked woman.

It is also known that Sam can no longer masturbate. He developed carpel tunnel syndrome so now when he wants to masturbate, he must find other instruments like a pillow, a wet shower wall, a sock filled with Vaseline shoved in between two couch cushions. He has also been known to lie on his back on his bed which is shoved in the corner of his messy room, and swing his legs over his head until his toes or feet touch the walls. He would then walk his feet down the walls until his knees were right next to his head. He would do this just enough so that the very tip of his erect penis could reach over his fat tummy so it could be placed in his mouth and he could suckle it.

It is safe to say that Sam has had very few normal sexual encounters. That’s not to say he hasn’t had many partners though. In fact, he has had forty-seven sexual partners. That’s not even including fellatio, cunnilingus, digital penetration or even heavy petting! Sam has actually stuck his fat hairy penis inside forty seven vaginas; some, more than once. Some even let him stick it in their asshole!

There is more to Sam than sexual frustration. He also has a shitty job that he doesn’t like very much. Sam is a bartender; the worst bartender in the tri-state area. Sam is not weak and timid when he gets behind the bar though. When he gets behind the bar he becomes Samuel the Sarcastic!

Samuel the Sarcastic knows his clientele. Samuel the Sarcastic knows that the only two kinds of people who come into the bar are the horny and the lonely. Samuel the Sarcastic knows that at any time the horny can become lonely and that the lonely can become horny but they could never be both at the same time.

Samuel the Sarcastic also recognized that both the horny and the lonely needed the same thing –  attention. Short or long term but it was a quest for them both to achieve.

In this way Samuel the Sarcastic also became a philosopher, and a therapist. He developed his great mind by observing both the horny and the lonely at his bar the way one would observe fish in a fish tank. He learned the rules of edict this way.

For example: he realized that you couldn’t call all women “ma’am”. This would upset the females greatly and would scar them for life. Every woman in the world could tell you the exact time and place and everything surrounding the event, no matter how long ago it was, the last time someone called them “ma’am”. Every woman’s fear is to become old and unattractive. Sam knew this. So he would call them things like “Love” or “Sugar” or “Sexy” or “Honeycunt” and so on and so on.

Samuel the Sarcastic also realized the art of being a woman. Women would spend hours a day painting their faces pretty and finding the most revealing and yet attractive outfits that they had and then squeeze themselves into them no matter how painful. They would do their hair to the point of perfection just so that when they arrived at the bar, men would approach them and buy them drinks. Women figured that men should by them drinks based upon the time they spent making themselves appear attractive. It was their salary for looking good. Women would never bring money into the bar. They would just sit there until an “employer” or “art critic” would waddle over to them with their liquid pay check. They would stay at that job for a drink or two and then quit to work for another “employer”.

Chapter 4

“It’s coming from the girls’ locker room.”

“What is?”

“The transmissions!”

“Transmissions? To where?”

“To outer space! What the hell is wrong with you? Didn’t you read the report?”

“The what?”

“Unbelievable. I am making a note about this in MY report!”

He could tell that he had really pissed this guy off. He stopped asking questions, even though he had no idea where this guy’s report will go and what repercussions he might face because of it.

“This guy kinda looks like Napoleon,” he thought. He is short, fat, bald on top, not on the sides. He won’t shut his mouth. Then he thought “This guy looks nothing like Napoleon.”


“What, What?”

“You just said something about Napoleon.”

“No I didn’t”

“Yes you did. I definitely heard you say Napoleon.”


Apparently the last sentence he thought to himself, he actually spoke aloud.

The car stopped in front of an old castle with a sort of belfry. No pun intended, but, there were bats in the belfry; quite a great lot of bats flying around the top of it in a circle.

“Where are we?”

“The school, dumbass! The catholic girls’ school. St. Helen’s. The Transmissions!”

“Right, right. Transmissions.”

After walking around the school for a while, he realized that every porno he has ever seen that had anything to do with catholic school girls, took place within these very walls.

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