The Drug Commercial That Gets Way Too Real With You
The camera pans to me sanding down a piece of antique furniture. I look handsome and confident, assured in my movements.
"When my doctor told me I had Distressing Ass Syndrome, I had a lot of questions. What was that? Would I be able to keep sanding antique furniture? Would the police finally find me? Would children point and laugh at me on the street, more so than they do now?"
I walk across my workshop and sit down, where I begin sanding two pieces of antique furniture, one with each hand.
What an easy-to-film, appropriately upper-class hobby.
"But after he explained DAS, and why God had so forsaken me, and asked me to settle down and climb off his desk, he told me about Comtransa, a new drug from the makers of Philaxistool. He said that Comtransa can help sufferers of DAS lead normal, healthy lives."
Now I'm rubbing one piece of antique furniture with another. An attractive woman in her 50s brushes my hair. We both turn to the camera. I go on:
"Now I don't have to worry about the hate-filled stares, or the odor, or suddenly rising a few feet off the ground. And I don't need to tell you ..."
I turn to smile at the beautiful woman brushing my hair. She smiles back warmly.
"... it's made me a far more selfish and uncaring lover, as well."
Myself, the beautiful woman, and another even older and even more attractive woman ride a horse on the beach.
Just the one horse.
"Comtransa isn't for everyone. People with heart conditions or a fear of spiders may experience side-effects related to those conditions. For the first few weeks after beginning to take Comtransa, sexual activity may result in an unidentified calamity. Users who are psychically attuned with the null plane may be summoned to fight in the Final Battle. In clinical trials, a small number of users have reported 0hallucinations."
Myself and hundreds of attractive mature woman wage war in the null plane.
"So discuss the risks with your physician. Be wary of their lies, though, for they have but the hearts of men, which will turn black with envy at the prospect of your newfound abilities."
I lift a physician above my head and cast him down on the rocks below.
"You shall restrain my power no more, bloodletter!"
"Thanks to Comtransa, I no longer worry about the effects of Distressing Ass Syndrome. My concerns are of a higher order now. Is it right that I have such power? Should I share it with others or hoard it for myself? But who better than I to manage the affairs of man? A new, golden world awaits us all, if only I have the courage to take us there."
A shining vision of a golden world in the distance. But something dark pollutes it.
"But what heights we could attain if only others could transcend their filth! If others had this power, what glories we could achieve! If they could manage it."
I brood, perched atop a piece of antique furniture, holding the globe in my hands.
"Perhaps other DAS sufferers, after consulting with their physicians and then hurling them down on the rocks, would be my equal. But what would happen if a lesser person, someone without DAS, took Comtransa? Can I find out? Is it right to experiment on humanity like that?"
The golden world turns to ash. Fade to my grinning face, which pulls back. I'm now sanding three pieces of antique furniture simultaneously.
"And who would stop me?"
The camera passes a row of twisted, bleeding hulks. Were they once humans? It is unclear.
Was this a failure? Or a success? Or did I just ruin a perfectly good cow?
"The path is clear. Everyone must take Comtransa. Every rock must have a physician cast upon it."
A single screaming physician is methodically flung onto rocks, one at a time.
"Comtransa. Consult your physician and cast them onto the rocks."
Chris Bucholz is a Cracked columnist and very unhealthy. The author of the science fiction novel Severance, his next novel, Freeze/Thaw, is available right now! Holy shit! Join him on Facebook or Twitter.
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