Her eyes were blue, her hair was blonde. She had nice breasts and a couple of fat CHEEKS. She was the Countdown Girl and she loved me.
We met at McDonalds last year, where she was sitting alone counting down from seven trillion and seven thousand and seven. She never says any words, just counts down every time she sees another human being. I did a little research on the internet and apparently the Countdown Folks count down and when they reach zero the next person they see will DIE. Huh. She’s just under seven trillion so I think I’m pretty safe for now, even though every time she sees me she counts down by one. I guess there aren’t seven trillion people on earth, so it’s understandable. Sometimes I’ll rapidly enter and exit the Countdown Girl’s field of vision, much to her chagrin. I’ll do my best to try and mess up her countdown, but she’s pretty good. When I take her to the “bone zone” she constantly moans the number she’s currently at. It was kinda annoying at first, but you get used to it. When we order at a restaurant, I purposefully let her order her meal herself, and the look on the waiter’s face is priceless. Apparently, a “Number Seven Trillion Sixty Two” does NOT correspond to a meal on the menu! Who knew?
I tried communicating with her in a number of ways. Well, actually just one: smoke signals. You can figure out the rest yourself! I tried taking a photo of her, and it came out blurry… but then I noticed that my camera had vaseline all over it. After cleaning it up, I tried taking the photo again. It came out blurry AGAIN. But then I noticed that I accidentally picked some sort of blur filter on my phone. I tried taking the photo again, but it came out blurry once AGAIN. But then I remembered that it was cold and my hands were shaking when I was taking the photo. I tried taking the photo again, but it came out blurry yet AGAIN. But then I noticed that she was headbanging to Witching Hour by Venom. I tried taking the photo again but my phone died. It’s currently recharging. She is real pretty tho.
I was her seven trillionh boyfriend, a few thousand give or take, and apparently her previous bf was a countdown man himself. He also counted down from seven trillion, but a couple of thousand numbers ahead. Needles to say, it got confusing for them real quick, so they broke up. I’m not a numbers guy, so she instantly took a liking to me. Also I have no friends and live alone, so she can hang around my house without having to keep track of her countdown.
Her wardrobe consisted of mostly generic goth crap. A big tiddy goth gf in the flesh. Worst part is, I’m not into goth babes at all. I’m into goth men. Visigoths, to be exact. But hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
I asked her if she counted down every time her mom played “peek a boo” with her when she was a baby. She looked me dead in the eye, and said: “Seven trillion forty one.” Oh, right!