Shadow Dream Girl - A Bennet the Sage Psychological Horror Tale

[Complicity]

a character study of a mildly mentally-ill nobody doing nothing.

That's where the true horror lies.

Mike Jeavons (yeah, you forgot I reviewed that) = a kids fantasy tale, that I have completely forgotten what it was about

I believe it was about a secret society of magical niggers.

I've also completely forgotten about Brad's book

It was a carbon copy of Slaughter High, inside a shitty, nonsensical copy of Night of the Comet/Rats Night of Terror/Fallout in which a single nuke hit the USA.
No scarcity of food, gasoline or water somehow, but Mad Max-like gangs killing each other and acid storms which would turn you into a skelly in a matter of minutes.
Group of douches goes to their old high school for reasons, and gets killed by a nerd they disfigured as a prank and his clones.
There was a Christian jock in it to make fun of evil Christians, and never-ending masturbation.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

Oh yeah, I skimped over the thread to re-familiarize myself with it, but man was it weird that I had forgotten everything.

[Complicity]

Oh yeah, I skimped over the thread to re-familiarize myself with it, but man was it weird that I had forgotten everything.

The only thing i remember about the other "novels" is that Spurdo Rodriguez named one of his characters Charles Chan.
Oh, and The Marsh Part of The Marsh.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

That's the best part of the marsh.
Also I envy you for forgetting all about the excellency that is Kassandra Killjoy.

[pibbs]

The DHI Autistic Book Club

Shadow Dream Girl
by Bennet “The Sage” White
Chapter 8: IT"S HAPPENING!!!
protected by Fair Use, bitch


Must be Tuesday, because Ian goes back to therapy. We open with Ian in the waiting room.
More Bennetian writing:

Seconds were minutes, minutes hours, and an hour might as well be eternity. It was a pressure chamber where one could only dwell on how they got there; either by some internal malfunction, or by the absence of some...

I'm really sparing you guys from reading pages and pages of this shit.

In Ian's mind, he tilted back and forth on which case he was. On some days, he felt as if he was just a broken man with a broken brain that tries to fix himself by whatever means he could. Other days, he felt that he was lacking some base element that...

Not that anyone, including DHI, would read this garbage anyway.

Maybe that was why waiting there was so unbearable; one would torture themselves with the thought of talking with a shrink to the point that actually talking to them would then seem like the better, more painless option. It was a cruel trick that they played, but Ian couldn't fault the effectiveness.

White, Bennett. Shadow Dream Girl (p. 88). anonymous. Kindle Edition. .

I remember I started with Lindsey's book thinking, one of Doge's people wrote a book. LOL! This might be fun, but I need more of a reason to waste my time on it. What if I just review the reviewers on DHI. That might be worth some LOLs.

In his fumbling attempt to distract himself, he had grabbed a copy of Time, bearing the date of November 30th, 1998. He shrugged before flipping it open, telling himself that at least now he could find out if Ritalin was right for his non-existent child.

It occurred to me, this might be the last IN book. Sure peeRod is working extra shifts as a night watchman somewhere to afford to get his sequel published. I still have half of Lindsay's 2nd, and her third to look at (which I just cannot bring myself to restart that) and I actually have Vamp girl's book that I never looked at. PUR mentioned writing a romance novel, but HA, we'll see her butthole long before we get her book.

Could this be the end of an era?

BTW here's a pic of the Time magazine mentioned.


OH SHIT! COULD IT BE!!! THE WOMAN ENTERS!!!!

Ian smirked as he thumbed further into the magazine, barely scanning article headlines that wondered aloud if children should be allowed to hunt, when the sound of the door opening shook him. He snapped to attention, expecting the sound to be from the door leading into the hall toward Luke's office, but was startled to see it closed. Logic dictated that the sound must have come from the only other door in the room, but Ian couldn't remember the last time someone else had entered to wait for an appointment. Still, he turned to the door leading outside, where he saw a woman that he couldn't help but feel he met somewhere before.

HOLY HELL!!! I don't believe it! Is this THE woman?

Despite the balmy afternoon, the woman wore a light, blue coat that was in the middle of being taken off and slung over her shoulder, revealing the woman's black, halter neck top that was tucked into her tight, grayish-black jeans. It seemed that she paid little mind to the fact that her outfit left little to the imagination, as every article of clothing clung to her figure. On instinct, Ian traced his eyes up the woman's body, spying the tiny, dark freckles that dotted her shoulders that served as altars for her bright, red hair. He glimpsed at her face long enough to distinguish her delicate features: a slightly upturned nose, peach-colored lips, and slate-gray eyes. On instinct, he averted his look just before he could be accused of staring at her, but she had imprinted herself onto his mind, and she wasn't about to leave. Ian buried himself into his magazine...

Finally, he describes something interesting.

The woman is there to pick up a friend. So, she sits near Ian to wait.

Ian's fingers flinched, having to be kept from clutching and tearing at the magazine. He knew he was able to put the magazine down and face her without coming across as a creep, since he now was an indirect part of their conversation. But knowing where he was, and who he was, he felt torn. He wanted to greet her, ask her name, and have her ask his, and have this be the conversation that started everything, but he also wanted to shut up and pretend she wasn't there.

You stupid asshole. Stop it. You've been waiting for a chance like this ever since high school. You want this. Fuck it, you need this. Grow a spine and start acting like a goddamned man, you little shit.
“Hey,” Ian whispered, “you can sit here.”
“Thank you.” The woman smiled a bright grin before taking her seat, removing her coat from around her shoulder and placing it onto her lap.
“Uh, do you want a magazine?

No, dumbass, she has her phone.

“But you know, these old magazines can be kind of funny. You know, in that sort of 'Wow, how long has it been since I thought of that?' kind of way.”
“Yeah, I guess that can be fun.” The woman continued to smile, shrugging her shoulders before turning to her cell.
“I mean, you have to make your own phone around here.”
“Phone?”
“Fun! I meant fun.” Ian gasped, realizing what he just said, “I meant to say that you have to make your own fun around here, and then I saw you going to your phone, and you know. Phone? Fun? They just sound alike, and all of a sudden, your brain thinks phone when you meant to say fun. Goddamn English sometimes, right? Am I making sense? I hope I am.”
For the love of God, shut the fuck up, you creepy-ass fuck-stick. Men like you are the reason why women are scared to even talk to strangers, you fucking waste of air. You hopeless, loveless, hapless little shit-brick. Fucking choke on your own severed balls. Just swallow all your pills and kill yourself, like you should have done years ago.

Ian pull yourself together, man. Love how the IN liberal white man guilt always finds a way into their work.

“No, I get it.” The woman giggled slightly, turning her attention back to Ian, “What is that, a Freudian slip?”
“I guess? I mean, it would be appropriate seeing as we are where we are, you know? Hey, that reminds me of a good joke I heard once; how many Freudians does it take to screw in a light bulb?”
“Um, dunno.” The woman cocked her head to the side, scrolling through her phone.
“Two!” Ian exploded the answer, forgetting that the laugh was supposed to come later.
“Why two?”
“Wait, um, yeah two! One to screw in the bulb, and one to hold the penis- I mean father- I mean phone- I mean ladder!” Ian didn't mean to struggle as much as he did with the punch line. He quickly tried to save the joke with as wide a grin as he could muster, but the woman had kept her eyes on her phone. Ian heard a chortle behind him, and turned around to see Linda covering her mouth.

Guys, I'm just so happy SOMETHING is happening.

If only you had a gun.
“I guess it wasn't all that funny. I- I should shut up now.” Ian sank into his seat, flipping the old magazine back onto the counter beside him.
“It was cute.” The woman surmised, her eyes still on her phone, “Thanks, I think I'll remember that one.”

If we get ten pages of Ian furiously masturbating over this encounter, I'm done. Do you think this is how it was for Bennet when he met his man-wife?

Anyway, Ian angsts in his head over his performance until LUKE the Jew shrink calls him in. Two pages of Luke trying to get Ian to stop fiddling with the hole in his couch. Ian fidgets with a tuft of stuffing he pulled out.

Basically, we get a Lindseyian recap of the previous chapters, but this time told through a nervous wreck of a human being. Nothing interesting here.

“Anyway, the both of them wind up ignoring me to play their little reference game, reciting names from an old episode of MST3K like squawking parrots.”
Pursing his lips, Luke tilted his head, “Uh, MST3K?”
Ian sunk into his seat, and rubbed his temple, “Mystery Science Theater 3000. It's an old comedy show where a guy and a couple of robots make fun of bad movies.”
“Oh, that sounds kind of funny.” Luke seemed genuinely intrigued at the prospect...

Go fuck yourself, Bennet.

Most of this session is spent on his interaction with the Brians. No mention of fiery hands or spontaneously combusting DVDs. The point of it, is to show the Brians asked Ian over because they wanted to be friends, and maybe Ian yelled at them because them seemed happy and Ian isn't.

Sigh.

End of chapter.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

Still can't believe that this book focuses on a ginger. It's Current Year, dammit.

And who wants to ask Ian over for anything? Interacting with him is as fruitful as giving Spoony tips on being less #sad.

It occurred to me, this might be the last IN book. Sure peeRod is working extra shifts as a night watchman somewhere to afford to get his sequel published. I still have half of Lindsay's 2nd, and her third to look at (which I just cannot bring myself to restart that) and I actually have Vamp girl's book that I never looked at. PUR mentioned writing a romance novel, but HA, we'll see her butthole long before we get her book.

I don't think PUR has it in her to write a book. The only things she will plan and follow through are:

• ordering scones
• getting another tattoo
• uploading a Murder, She Wrote episode that will get demonetized like all the others

As for others, Linkara is unlikely, too. He prefers audiovisual media because he loves to hear himself talk. Plus restarting his career as an author might cause more people to become aware of his epic Linkara saga.
The Troon Formerly Known As LordKat should write a book if he were halfway smart. It's not that hard for a troon to find a publisher willing to publish his novel for Good Boy Points, even if the novel is basically an overly violent rape fantasy.
The one I could see write a novel is FilmBald. At least once he starts looking for ways to fame that aren't hampered by a face for radio and a voice for silent films.

[Complicity]

Still can't believe that this book focuses on a ginger.

Saya No Uta but nothing happens, with 100% more Ernest Cline-like references to consumeristic pop culture garbage, starring Lord Spoony and the Red Dragon.

[pibbs]

The DHI Autistic Book Club

Shadow Dream Girl
by Bennet “The Sage” White
Chapter 9: The Most Unbelievable Horseshit I Have Ever Read!!!
protected by Fair Use, bitch

It's Friday and that means the busiest day of the week for the little video store. What follows is a multi-page dissertation on working in retail and the annoying customers. Basically, bitching about the job we all have had when we were younger. In this case, it's mostly about those customers who want a movie but can't really describe it.

As Stan and Ian weathered these bouts with customers over the years, the both of them realized that the only way they could stand having to do it was if they made a sort of contest out of it.
Over the course of the week, the two men would keep track of how many times they had managed to correctly guess a movie with a customer, and by end of day Friday, the loser would have to pay for the coming week's dinners.

This reads like an actual Bennet experience.

Scene: Stan helps a customer find a Hannibal Lector movie. Ian swoops in and steals the win. Ian gushes that the customer thanked him. Stan be angry Ian won this round.

Bored.

Uh.. Stan admits that he hates that he cares too much about movies. Bennet, this is called projecting. Figures, Bennet's self-insert is the dude working retail who hates his movie-related job, but loves movies. *eye roll

Stan rapidly tapped the counter with the edge of his fingertips as if it were a conga drum, “Movies. Plain and simple. I love watching them, I love talking about them, I love thinking about them, and more than anything, I love hipping other people to them.”

Really, so far, this chapter is mostly this shit.

Not knowing what else he could do, having shuffled around the same couple of DVDs in front of him for an indeterminate amount of time, Ian placed himself behind the counter again. He parked his elbows on top to form a pyramid to rest his chin on his interwoven fingers and scanned the wall in front of him, following the rows of Blu-rays and DVDs side to side, only moving on to find another shelf to repeat the same, time-wasting process...

Then, in an ironic twist, Ian's stream of thought perfectly sums up my thoughts about this book.

Something needs to happen.
Anything.
Just fucking happen already!

I'm always amazed at these IN's lack of self-awareness.

And then, amazingly, something happens. I saw it coming, but still. The only female character in this book, walks into the store.

”I'm Lisa.”
Lisa took his hand in hers, and Ian felt an electric tingle run up through his arm and into his spine as the soft, silky touch of her palm met against his. It shot through his synapses like fireworks, exploding with a joy that made his heart race.

Ian, Stan, Lisa, and Luke. Only four characters in this book and none of them have a name with more than four-letters. Not an interesting observation, but what the hell else have I got to analyze here?

She wants All That Jazz and couldn't find it streaming. So that answers one question I had, it's set in current time, and not late 90s or something.

Lisa played with her hair as she explained herself, letting her fingers tease and twirl her red locks. Ian watched her, utterly transfixed by how gracefully she weaved her delicate fingers through such ravishing, silken strands. He reflexively gulped to try and stifle his trembling lips, failing to keep his mounting excitement from showing.

No woman, esp that looks like the she's described, is going to fall for this nervous flop-sweat of a human being. PeeRod's story will be more believable than if this happens here.

You fucking idiot, you've already ruined it! Kill yourself. Kill yourself. KILL YOURSELF.

Yes! Do it! That would be so awesome! Could you imagine? Brad Jones would certainly have a main character kill themselves.

Lisa likes the movie because she used to watch it with her dad.

“Oh my God, it's been twenty years since I've seen this!”
Hugging the DVD to her chest, Lisa hummed to herself, enraptured in a feeling of nostalgic bliss. Ian couldn't fathom how much more perfect she could look.

Then the funniest scene so far happens.

“I suppose it's a great way to honor the memory of your dad.” Ian surmised.
Lisa let her hug go, bringing herself back to the moment, “Oh, my dad isn't dead.”
Ian took in a sharp breath, “Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I just assumed that that was the reason why you wanted to watch a forty-year-old movie, and I am an idiot, and I am so sorry, and I am a moron, and-”
Do you want to be miserable all your fucking life? You deserve every nanosecond of the hell you live in, you spineless, worthless retard. Put a bullet in your head. Jump off the roof. Stab yourself in the neck. Step in front of a bus. Drown your-

Followed by the most unlikely thing.

“Hey.” Ian snapped out of his mental flagellation, raising his eyes to meet Lisa's. Her face had grown concerned, and she reached forward to place a delicate hand on his shoulder, and her warmth spread through him, pulsing through his frayed nerves wherever it went.
“It's okay, it's just an honest mistake. You're good.”

No, no, no. Modern woman has been trained to flee from any demonstration of flaw in a man, not to show sympathy. And modern woman would never enter a shady store alone with a nervous, sweaty creep like this.

In no reality would someone like her want to spare him the feeling that he was a disgusting little turd, especially when he opened his mouth to prove it.

Shut the fuck up, Bennet.

if she was okay with his faux pas, then he should be too. It did little to keep himself from retreading his suicidal thoughts, but they had begun to sound like the background noise they usually were.

Are we having fun yet, DHI?

Lisa wants to rent another movie. Kill me. How many ways can I say how dull-

“Do you have a porn section?”

*record scratch
Fucking WHAT?!

Bullshit.

Oh shit, what is the right answer to this question?

A question that a woman would never ask, unless she was fat, tatted, blue-haired, and insufferably a galloping bull dyke?

“What, you're not going to join me up here?”
Ian's thoughts were jumbled and sporadic, always leaping and darting away from his attempts to grab a hold onto any one of them to pin them down with words, “Um, do you, like, want me to?”
“Come on! It'll be fun.” Lisa motioned for him to follow her with a nod of her head, which might as well have been a command for Ian, “I've never rented a porno before.”

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!

Is this one of his waking dreams? I don't know which would make me angrier. That this scene is real, or it's a dream.

SO, he follows her, while checking out her hot bod. They go behoind the porn curtain. He's now checking her out in the red lights of the porn section.

...he was struck by how her face caught the cheap red lights that were strung-up around them. Her beauty had taken on a new dimension, highlighted by mauve shadows that contoured around the angles and curves of her face. The usual harsh, dark-room lighting that normally made the entire section look like a crime scene made her a vision of loveliness; a vision surrounded by portraits of naked, lusty-eyed women. Disparate in appearance, but united in desire, they formed a chorus of perverse nymphs to sing sensual praises for the woman in front of Ian. He was consumed by lustful fire and passionate heat.

Ugh. I can hear Bennet fapping as he types with one hand.

Ian tries to direct away from one part of the section and has to explain that's where some dude ejaculated on the floor. I can't believe I just typed that sentence. Damn you, Bennet! I expected this of Brad, not you. Actually I don't know what I expected of you. I only really know him from cross-overs with Spoony and those CA movies. Tried watching his stuff, but wasn't my thing.

“-well, the guy just whipped it out and left a mess.”
Lisa sneered her face in disgust, “Oh my God, the dude came? On the floor?”

Then a ridiculous sentence.

Ian flinched at her tone, scrunching his eyes tight. But the sound of Lisa's laugh relaxed his muscles. She laughed with her entire body, and it rolled out of her like a small waterfall in a creek.

Followed by another conversation that humans have never had.

“That over there is where you're going to find the 'Female-friendly' porn.”
“Oh come on!” Lisa snapped back, stepping forward to give Ian's shoulder a light shove, “If I'm going to rent a fuck-flick, I'm not going to rent soft-core. It's boring. It's like wanting to play baseball, but you're stuck playing wiffle ball.”
Ian couldn't stop from cackling, “I suppose you're right. What do you have in mind, then?”

She makes a selection.

He twirled the DVD so it faced him, and read the title aloud, “Honey, I Blew... Everybody. You sure you want it?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Ian felt like the biggest idiot for even thinking of asking what was forming in his mind, but standing there in the porn section, with her looking at him with her wide, moon-like eyes, a sliver of courage found its way into his spine, and pushed him forward.
“Well, you just kind of picked it out at random, and maybe it's not going to, you know, scratch your itch?”

Gawd.

This... this conversation gets worse.

Lisa shrugged the question off, tucking her thumbs between her hips and her jeans, “Probably not, but then again, it's not like I'm renting this to get off. Most straight porn is boring to me.”
“Oh.” Ian had been caught completely off guard with the frankness of her answer, but he was nonetheless encouraged by her wanting to be candid, “Well, if you don't mind me asking, what kind of porn do you prefer?”
“I usually like lesbian porn.” Lisa flatly admitted, using the same tone as one would use to describe how they take their coffee, “Which is kind of weird, because I'm not a lesbian at all. But, you know, there's something about seeing women let go of themselves and just enjoy each other that just gets my engine going. It's like, if they can be allowed to enjoy themselves, then so can I, right? I dunno, maybe I just need to feel like I'm given permission to go wild.”

I was wrong. Bennet IS writing a fantasy, just not the kind I meant.
My suspension of disbelief has collapsed into the river of disdain.
IT still gets worse!

“What kind of porn do you prefer?”
It was surprising to Ian just how easy his answer came to him, and how even easier it was to tell Lisa, “Well, I like all kinds, I suppose. But, I got a thing for red-heads.”
“Oh, do you?” Lisa began to tease the hair around her shoulders again, giving Ian a knowing smirk, “Isn't that interesting.”

Is-is she flirting with you? YOU?! Get those thoughts out of your head, you douchebag. Ian wanted to slap himself for being delusional with such a ridiculous notion,

STOP THAT, Bennet. You can't wash away the absurdity of what you are writing simply by acknowledging it. That alone doesn't make it less absurd.

Ian turned toward Lisa, feeling more and more daring with every second, “Well, if you're just doing this for a joke, maybe I can help you find another funny title to rent? I can probably find you a copy of Anal Chiropractor.”
Lisa's hand tried to cover her mouth in time to stop herself from letting out a loud guffaw, but her muffled laugh poked through, punctuated by her lungs snorting in much needed air and making her sound like a piglet. Ian knew he was in love.
“No.” Lisa managed to gather herself, letting out a few sighing giggles, “No, that's fine. I'm okay with Blowing Everybody.”
“You must be very popular.”
Ian let out a sophomoric chortle, as he watched Lisa realize her mistake, and burying her now reddened face into her hands.
“Oh my God,” Lisa gasped out between fitful giggles, “I'm so embarrassed.”

“Okay, okay. So, that's All That Jazz, and Honey, I Blew... Everybody. Will that be all?”
“Yeah, I think I am good.” Lisa gave a wipe of her nose with her thumb, buying herself any time she could to fully calm down from all of the giggling. “Alright, let's get you

As he checks her out (at the register I mean) he gets the sads because how happy he is. Don't ask me. I didn't write this fucking thing.

He was grateful that he had his back to Lisa, so she couldn't see the tears welling in his eyes.
GET OVER YOURSELF, YOU UNFUCKABLE PIECE OF SHIT!

Lisa asks him to join her and her friends at the club later that night. Maybe she thinks he's gay. That would explain this entire scene. I just realized the club is called INFERNO. Goes along with the fire motif of this book I guess.

Leaning toward Ian, Lisa flashed another smile before lightly pecking him on the cheek. Lightning struck the spot where her lips met his face, frying his entire system into a stupor. He could only touch the area with trembling fingers as he watched Lisa take her DVDs and leave the store. If nothing comes of tonight, if meeting her friends goes terribly wrong and he makes a complete ass out of himself in front of the entire night club, then it would be worth it for that kiss alone. Today, for all intents and purposes, and with all things considered, was the greatest day of Ian's life.

Stan enters just in time to see Lisa leave.

“And, well she just invited me to go out clubbing with her friends.”
A sudden, hacking cough erupted from Stan, as if his body was trying to physically reject the information it was given, “You, Ian O'Riordan, have a date with someone like her?”
“Well, she said it was with friends, so I don't know if it's a date.”

Stan, like me, can't believe any of this horseshit.

“Hey, asshole!” Ian quickly snapped, girding himself by tightening his chest and shoulders to punctuate his anger, “I'm not a virgin. I've had a girlfriend before!”

Bennet's most real life used phrase.

End of Chapter.

We are halfway done with this shit.

[RedLine]

I don't think Bennett is so retarded that he'd write a story where a super attractive woman is into some sad sack and it not being a ruse or plot device.

My guesses:

• This is some Matrix or Total Recall situation where reality isn't what we've been shown.

• he conjured up Lisa using his special narcolepsy powers after seeing a similar woman on the porn DVD

• some sort of purgatory/afterlife allegory

• Lisa is a witch/cult person and Ian is a human sacrifice to the corn gods or something.

That said, the plot really needs to get its ass in gear.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

Stan rapidly tapped the counter with the edge of his fingertips as if it were a conga drum, “Movies. Plain and simple. I love watching them, I love talking about them, I love thinking about them, and more than anything, I love hipping other people to them.”

Too bad that latter basically never happens because no one wants to deal with this charisma vacuum.

Lisa took his hands in hers

Her face had grown concerned, and she reached forward to place a delicate hand on his shoulder

Yeah, because women love nothing more than to get touchy with mouthbreathing strangers / potential stalkers at the slightest provocation.

And some more plausible behavior from the very plausible woman: Why rent your precious childhood movie when you can buy it? It'd be a couple clicks on Amazon.

Ian, Stan, Lisa, and Luke. Only four characters in this book and none of them have a name with more than four-letters. Not an interesting observation, but what the hell else have I got to analyze here?

The names need to be that short for the retro-style Earthbound-like JRPG adaptation.

She wants All That Jazz and couldn't find it streaming. So that answers one question I had, it's set in current time, and not late 90s or something.

The mentions of "Blu-Rays" didn't tip you off?

Are we having fun yet, DHI?

My guesses:

• This is some Matrix or Total Recall situation where reality isn't what we've been shown.

• he conjured up Lisa using his special narcolepsy powers after seeing a similar woman on the porn DVD

• some sort of purgatory/afterlife allegory

It's Song-of-Sayashit. Maybe a bit of Fight Club. I mean, isn't it funny how the other established characters are conveniently always absent when this Totally-Real-And-Totally-Hot woman shows up to brighten up Ian's day?