by Alex Bienstock
Chuck Luck was a man who had no desires. He didn’t need to eat, fuck, fart, talk, smoke, drink, laugh, cry, sleep, anything. All he did was sit and stare out of a window, rocking back and forth like Norman Bates’ stuffed mom in Psycho. When he would get up and leave his paid-for room to walk around – simply to change his view and not out of desire, only pure arbitrary differentiation – he would count his steps to occupy his mind. Now he had to occupy his mind, of course not out of desire, but again, only for pure arbitrary differentiation. He simply did not know the concept of relief. He did not need the concept of relief, only pure arbitrary differentiation.
One day when Chuck Luck, the man who had no desires, was counting his steps outside, a small, supposedly attractive woman interrupted him and asked, “Hello sir, can you clasp this delicate necklace for me? It is much too hard for me to see.” Chuck nodded his head and began to get to work. While behind the small, supposedly attractive woman, fumbling with the delicate necklace, Chuck showed no embarrassment whatsoever, for he did not desire to display competence around this woman. Because of his unintentional fearlessness, the woman became very hot and horny and grabbed Chucks eternally limp penis. Dismayed that she did not get Chuck erect, she began to cry, feeling rejected, and not so supposedly attractive. Chuck simply looked at her, blankly, and mumbled, “I have to get back to counting now, for pure arbitrary differentiation, good bye.”
While Chuck Luck, the man with no desires, was counting his steps, he accidentally bumped into a group of tough looking men. He of course did not say sorry, as he did not desire to be polite, and one of the tough looking men got quite pissed at Chuck. The tough looking man had a full head of healthy thick hair, swollen and shiny muscles, and towered over Chuck by at least 3 inches. Mr. Luck did not care one bit, as again, he did not have the desire to stay safe from harm’s way. The tough looking man had never seen such stoic grace and became quite humbled and excused himself, bowing his head in servile respect. The moment Chuck stepped away from the group, counting his steps as usual, the tough man said to his tough group, “Boy, that guy is as cool as a cucumber, I sure hope he didn’t lose his count because of my foolish ways.”
One day Chuck Luck, the man with no desires, woke up with a ginormous boner leaking with salty pre-cum, which after awhile, just stoically laying there with his vertical cock, he tasted with his pink tongue to of course experience arbitrary differentiation. It’d been awhile since this happened and his usual blank mind became fixated on his wet throbbing meat tube. Being that he had no desires, he was not all that familiar with this change of his body and he was quite alarmed by the quickening pulse in his spongy bulbous head. Curious, and of course only to provide some arbitrary differentiation, he figured it’d be best to return to his usual flaccid self, because frankly, it hurt less. Because of this being such a rare occasion, he had never learned about masturbation but figured that some kind of stimulation would scientifically transform matter. He got up, shlong pointing north, and walked to his kitchen cabinets. He took out 6 tuna cans, lied back down, and poured the wet stinky tuna meat all over himself and his pecker and let his four cats lick him until violent erratic climax. Drenched in smelly tuna water, cat saliva, and gooey semen he finally shed his first tear. Chuck Luck never did clean himself though, for he simply had no desire to be clean. Chuck Luck was one sick fuck, but at least he finally understood what it meant to be a man.