I
got so little attention from having my head really bashed by a motor
that I thought what I should do it again and cause a major injury to
myself and try and get a lot of attention. The problem with that was
to get some attention from getting a major injury I would need a
major injury. I am not a huge fan of pain so I was trying to work out
a compromise between lavish sorrow for my plight and minimal actual
plight. I hit upon a plan, called faking, where I would be getting
all of the sympathy and none of the pain. To set up myself up right
I went out to that shop one day making extra certain that I told my
mom that I was going out there working and that she better come check
on me sometime your make sure I'm not hurt badly or anything. I went
out and organize a little motor avalanche scene in the which it
appeared that some motors and transmissions would've fallen, quite
plausibly from a broken shelf I had arranged, down on me. I was going
to play the part of the crushed and nearly killed victim and got into
character by wedging myself back into the pile and then set dressing
a few pieces on top of myself. It was completely authentic and I set
them up like they just fallen over caught me unaware all I had to do
now is wait for my unassuming and dutiful mother to come check on me
and the pathetic trap of sympathy would be sprung. I laid down there
in the midst of motors, transmissions and obvious distress waiting.
Now it is important to know I am not overly patient and after twenty
minutes of waiting to be discovered and saved I started to get bored.
I gave it about five more minutes and was ready to call it quits. I
had been gone an hour and my mom never come check on me so I was just
there bored and in a mess of appliance detritus and getting no
sympathy. I decided on a plan to so mournfully relate my fake injury
and entrapment that I could get some real sympathy so I shuffled off
the motors and went inside. I told my mom I had an accident up there
in the shop and that I was trapped under some motors for some hours
and she had never checked on me so maybe I would have died. She said
that it was good I didn't die and that she was glad I was okay. She
didn't even give me the time to check out my wounds. Stupid dang fake
tragedy is stupid good for stupid nothing.
