File 133261463347.jpg - (44.09KB , 436x500 , PfQDD.jpg )
The Rexic Family IdiomAlpha!a1..dIzWW2 2012/03/24(Sat)11:43 No. 20792 ID: 067a04

Okay, so I wrote all this in posts on IRC, mostly just so Trout wouldn't write another one of those dragon rape things.

Pic most likely irrelevant.

~ Beginning ~

The Rexic family wasn't very well known before the 1800s, mostly being a very old line of very boring people. That all changed when Coby Rexic, a bean farmer, was dealing with his very boring problems and accidentally found an old cache of Spanish gold. Thirty tons of Spanish gold, actually. When experts were asked where this gold came from, they weren't sure, but considered it might be the result of ancient Spanish automatons made out of gold. From then on, every member of the Rexic family was a giant success in some way or another; Jack Rexic was a very influential member of British parliament, besides being five years old and American besides, Tom Rexic was the first boxer to win every boxing match he fought in while completely naked, and Mary Rexic was a housewife. But she was a very good housewife.


This string of success lasted until the 1980s, when the latest member of the Rexic family line, coincidentally also named Coby, was born. From the moment he slipped out of his mother and somehow (probably accidentally) killed his father, he was the unluckiest person on the entire continent. This title was scientifically proven, but all the scientists went missing under mysterious circumstances before they could reveal their findings. His bad luck seemed to radiate out and touch everyone who shared even a bit of blood with him. His mother, while taking him to watch the shuttle Challenger be shot into space, ended up being the world's first accidental astronaut, while the young Coby Rexic watched the pretty lights in the sky and thought about how much he loved Cabbage Patch Kids.


His biologist aunt Emily, one of the few adults of the Rexic family still left alive, went traveling in Africa, and ended up discovering a new, rare species of extremely deadly snake. Unfortunately for Emily, this discovery came about when she woke to find every member of this new species had slithered into her bed while she slept. To this day, nobody else has died of three hundred and twenty-nine simultaneous snakebites save for Coby's cousin Henry a week later.

Back at the Rexic Family Mansion, Gerard Trice, the Rexic Family Butler, became the manager of the estate's dwindling affairs, while the oldest living member of the family, Madison Rexic, attended to the family's less official capacities as the spokesperson for a family of celebrities. This reputation would soon be lost when the sixth wall of the Pentagon went missing while Madison was visiting, never to be seen again. The government covered up many of the historical events surrounding the Rexic family, and for the good of the world, the Rexic family became pariahs.

After Madison disappeared, Coby was sent away to what the butler called an 'all-daycare', but what everyone else called an orphanage. It burned down the day after he got there, and he was taken in by the fire department, who all soon drowned to death in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. After Coby washed ashore in Toronto, somehow, he was adopted by some people who called themselves 'American Gypsies', but who everyone else called 'Homeless Scum'. These people were used to going through life's hardships, and thus Coby felt at home among them, and they were able to survive his presence. For the next twenty-two and a half years, Coby Rexic lived the lifestyle of a hobo, and since the rest of the Rexic family believed he had died long ago, nobody ever came looking for him. Not for twenty-two and a half years…

It was a late night at the Rexicville police station. Erin Tarmoc, the police chief, was balancing a pencil on the tip of her nose, a skill she had picked up in kindergarten and put on every resumé she had ever written, the grand total of which was one. Its usefulness had long since been proven in the slow hours at the police station, for she was forced to sit in her office for long periods of time and do paperwork. Luckily, she was allergic to paper, so she simply burned it all at midnight with the aid of her disability dog Joe, figuring that since she was the police chief, nobody could arrest her.

There came a knock on her door. The pencil on Erin's nose slipped and fell deep into her left nose-hole. "Bluuuuaaargh!" was the noise she made then, which Andrew Kodinski took as an invitation. He entered the room without looking up from his crossword puzzle, the answer to which was 'James Dean'.
"Got some arrests for you to finalize, chief." He dropped a thick stack of ill-fated paperwork onto Erin's desk, then started to recite the official business he had come to deliver. If he had looked up at that point, he would have seen Erin ripping a pencil out of her nose and snapping it between her fingers, but he didn't, so he didn't. "We've got a murder, a crazy dude shouting something about dragon rape, and a bomb threat."
"Another one?"
"Yeah, I sent Freddie to deal with it, so no worries."
"Mmkay. Tell me about the murder."

"Yeah, according to the call it happened up at the old Rexic place."
"People still live there? That place is like a minefield somebody walked through. So, who bit it?"
"The butler, apparently."
"Well, that rules out the obvious suspect."
"We've gathered up all the people who still live there. Half of them are idiots, the other half are also idiots, but they're entitled idiots as well. Say, do you have any idea what 'lived fast, died young, and left a beautiful corpse'?"
"Uhh.. A turtle?"
"Nope, doesn't fit. Unless I put it in Swedish! Yes! Oh, and there's some new homeless scumbag I picked up downtown. I put him in the really, really dirty cell."
"Oooh, a new one. I'll break 'im in before we leave."
"Huh? What? Where are you going?"
"We're going to the old Rexic place, to solve the murder."
"Oh, come on, can't we just declare it a suicide like the last one and be done with it? I'm really hungry, and I don't really want to die tonight. Too humid."
"Sorry, Andy. This isn't optional. Get your coat."
"I don't have a coat."
"Then we'll stop at a thrift store or something on the way and get you one."

Coby Rexic sat in the dismal cell and wondered what he was doing there. He had only been walking down the street for a few minutes, but was then grabbed by a tiny, French-looking cop who was doing a crossword and was very generous with beatings. He had begun to carve an escape tunnel in the wall with his fingers, but stopped when he discovered all four walls of the cell were coated in a warm, inch-thick layer of slime. He decided he would never touch any wall ever again. Then there was a clank-clank-thump-crack-whistle as the cell door opened, and a very thin, very excited policewoman walked in with a terrifying grin on her face.

"Uh, hello. Have you come to let me out? I don't think I've done anything wrong."
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong." The woman whispered. "You're homeless, and you got in the way of official police business. That makes you guilty, forever, without bail."
"Hey, I'm homeless, but I still know some law, and what you just said is definitely not law. I do get a trial, and an attorney, and-"
"You don't seem to understand the situation you are in. This is the worse-than-hell-cell. Do you know why it is called that?"
"I would guess it is because the cell is supposed to be worse than hell."
"Right. Also wrong. This cell is worse than hell, but a long time ago, I learned that some people believe that the soul lives on after death, and goes off somewhere and frolics in the dew-soaked end of some deity or other's ancient, amazing ass. But not from this cell. I had the walls coated in ectoplasm, so that even when you die, your soul lives on, never able to leave this cell. There are probably thousands of dead hoboes in this cell, unmourned, crying and shouting beer-soaked soliloquies into the mist. That is the cell you are in. The worse-than-hell-cell."
"Meh. I've seen worse."
"What? How could.. What?"
"Well, it's not like the cell's gonna be around forever. Walls fall down, and then you're probably gonna have a lot of very drunk, very angry ghosts on your hands."
"Oh, these walls will never fall down. We're on the first floor of a three-story station, this is in the middle of the building, and it's inside a big cement-" the policewoman had stopped talking, mainly because one of the walls had fallen on her, along with all the other walls in the police station that happened to fall in that direction. Coby, having been narrowly missed by the destruction, simply sighed, dusted himself off, and got to work making his way over the rubble of the walls. "Please don't haunt me, hobo ghosts. I like hoboes. I've been one on occasion. Please don't haunt me."

Moments later, Andy and Erin walked in. Well, Andy walked. Erin strutted. They came in and saw the wreckage. Well, Erin saw it. Andy was still working on his crossword. "You know, I'm not sure that 'a turtle' in Swedish really was the answOH FUCK what happened here?"
"Death." Erin said, with a sad smile. "But it was Suzie. I liked Suzie. We shared a love of beating hoboes. And it seems I'm going to have to make it my duty to entertain that pleasure on one very specific hobo. Come on, Andy."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."

TO BE CONTINUED DUN DUN DUN

>>	a43a6c.jpg Jingling Bud a43a6c Trout 2012/03/24(Sat)12:33 No. 20793 ID: a43a6c File 133261759147.png - (61.49KB , 500x300 , 4efffc46b8d9ea5613000110-10.png ) YES