Lenny (Part 2)

Lenny slept little. Most of the night was spent watching challenge videos. There was the Mentos challenge where you put Mentos into a coke bottle and try to chug it before it explodes. Lenny watched as two young brothers went the extra mile and drank a two liter bottle of coke with an entire pack of Mentos. By the end of the video the younger brother looked like he wanted to puke. There was the Carolina reaper challenge. The Carolina Reaper is the world’s hottest pepper bred by some guy who calls himself a “mad scientist.” These peppers are so hot they’re grown for military grade pepper spray. Still, that didn’t stop people from doing the Carolina reaper challenge.

Lenny set up his webcam as he waited anxiously for his jar of peppers. These peppers were not any pepper you could just buy at the store (not that Lenny would do that anyways.) These peppers needed to be ordered straight from the breeder himself, the so-called “Mad Scientist”. Lenny lacked patience and as a result paid double the standard shipping rate to have the peppers shipped overnight.

Lenny’s phone buzzed with a notification, it was an email for his shipment, the email read:

“Dear Valued Customer, we regret to inform you that we are receiving a large number of orders and as a result, your shipment may be delayed for a maximum of two days. We understand this may be frustrating and apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. We appreciate your understanding and look forward to your business in the future.

Sincerely,

“Fuck!” Lenny shouted as he slammed down his fist breaking his keyboard in half.

Lenny sat by his kitchen window waiting, watching for the delivery truck carrying his peppers to pull up. He barely slept the past few nights, the words of PurplePanda9813 played in his mind over and over until language itself lost all meaning. “Alright bigshot, let’s see you do it.” Those words cut deep, deeper than Lenny would like to admit. He couldn’t rest until PurplePanda9813 knew what it felt like to be a fool in front of the whole world. Lenny snapped out of his dazed state by the sound of a car door slamming shut. It was the delivery driver. A tall woman with red frizzy spring loaded hair and a wide muscular frame. “She must be in good shape from lifting packages all day.” Lenny thought to himself. He looked down at his over-extended stomach and thought for a moment how life could have been different had he taken another path. The woman carried a little brown box in her hand and gently placed it on his doorstep. Lenny’s phone buzzed revealing a notification saying “Your package has arrived!” with a picture of his decrepit porch with the rotting wood and broken stairs. A glimpse of the woman’s thigh was in the photograph, Lenny screenshotted the picture saving it for a later date.

Lenny walked through the sea of garbage passing through the skeletal frame that once was the “Family pet.” Rats scurried from bags left for them to feast upon. He opened the door just enough to grab his package and closed it quickly hoping no one saw him. He was not much of a planner, not usually at least, but today was different, guided by his hatred for PurplePanda9813 Lenny set up his webcam and even went as far as adjusting the lighting to ensure the picture quality is clear.

Lenny’s biggest fear is to be called out as a fraud. Ensuring the quality of the shot was perfect was his best chance to eliminate any idea there may be tomfoolery or so called “camera tricks.” He started the webcam program and the little red light flashed on, this was an indication a recording was in session. Something about the red light stunned Lenny. He knew from this point forward anything he said or did would be encapsulated forever in time to be ridiculed. He took a deep breath, his chest rattling from the mucus build up in his lungs and thought to himself.

“Don’t fuck this up!” Instead of pre-recording and editing a video, Lenny wanted to livestream the challenge so people could watch and comment in real time. For those who missed it? The livestream would be saved and uploaded to carve out Lenny’s legacy in history forever. He hit the big red button that said “Go Live” and it was showtime. Lenny saw himself in a little box in the corner of the screen with a little flashing red button that said “Live”. On the right side of the screen was a section dedicated to a chatroom. Here, users could ask questions to the streamer or talk amongst themselves in real time.

Lenny looked at himself and saw a man desperate for attention, lonely, scared of dying alone, unknown, forever forgotten to history. Lenny took a deep breath and said “You may not know me.” he paused. “That’s dumb, of course no one knows you, why would you say that?” He thought to himself. He noticed a disheveled obese man staring at the screen. While lost in thought, he forgot he was livestreaming to the whole world. Lenny took another deep breath, his chest rattling like a xylophone. “Okay, no bullshit. I was watching Tyler Zyte doing the habanero challenge and really, I didn’t think it was all that impressive. I eat habaneros all the time so I called him out. You guys didn’t like that and some of you, specifically, PurplePanda whatever the fuck numbers.” Lenny stared intently at the screen. “I know you’re watching.” He lifted the unopened package in his hand. “See this?” Lenny asked. He tore open the package with his teeth. Pain shot through his gums as the pressure revealed every cavity in his mouth. His ears rang as his eyes watered from the pain but trying to appear tough, he pushed through. Lenny removed the package containing the chillies from the box. The package was bright orange with warning labels in big letters saying “WARNING! SPICY!” with a cartoon scientist on the front holding a smoking beaker in one hand and a chili in the other. The front of the package read “World famous Carolina Reaper. The world’s HOTTEST pepper!”

Lenny tore open the top of the bag and the smell of the spices was enough to induce sweating. The sharp spice stung Lenny’s nostrils and raised every flag in his brain screaming “red alert!! Don’t do this!!” Lenny pulled out a misshapen tiny pepper from the bag. Its bright red skin almost glowed in his hand. Lenny held it by the stem to the camera holding it in place until the camera auto focused on the pepper in the foreground. The capsaicin of the pepper was so high Lenny’s skin began to tingle and burn. He looked at the camera with pepper in hand and said “This, this is the Carolina Reaper. The hottest pepper in existence.” Lenny saw activity in the chat window, there were two users. One said “You’re not going to eat that” The other replied “Please don’t encourage him, he can die.” Lenny continued. “These peppers were bred for military grade pepper spray. But fuck it!” He popped one in his mouth and chewed.

Lenny expected an overwhelming spice given their reputation but it almost had a bitter taste more than anything. He swallowed and quickly grabbed another one, chewing that just as fast. Before Lenny swallowed he popped three more in his mouth just to show how tough he really was. The people in chat continued “Nooo!!!” “Holy fuck! Did he just eat five?!?! Is he retarded?!” “They aren’t that spicy.” Lenny thought to himself. Suddenly, he was overtaken by hiccups. Lenny’s mouth began to feel a burning sensation that crawled down his throat and esophagus to his stomach. He looked at the camera “That” *hiccup* “wasn” *hiccup* “so” *hiccup* “ba” *hiccup* “bad.” Lenny read the chat. “You fucking moron, it’s a delayed reaction.” Lenny looked at the package, it read “WARNING! Spice will be delayed, wait up to two minutes before consuming more.” Lenny’s heart began to race. His skin became red hot. Profusely sweating his esophagus felt like it was on fire and closing. His stomach ached as if he swallowed razor blades dipped in acid. The thumping of his heart was so loud he wondered if the camera could pick up on it. His vision began to blur. The pain was the worst thing he’s ever felt. “Am I dying?” He thought to himself somewhat okay with that result if it meant an end to this torment. That thought quickly took a back seat as the spins took Lenny’s attention. Blood pooled in his mouth and throat as the spice stripped away whatever thin layer of skins Lenny had left. He tried to calm himself but any time he tried to take in a breath of air his lungs felt tight and like they were filled with bile. His throat sealed, nothing would go down, not even precious oxygen, Lenny felt like he was going to black out. His vision became a small tunnel, Lenny looked at the chat and could barely make out the words. Without warning he projectile vomited blood and bile all over himself and blacked out.

Lenny was deep in the dream world. He dreamt of hot springs in the middle of his living room, the steam whispered into the air as the warm water brought his chilled bones to a toasty temperature. In this dream it was snowing heavily which may raise questions but in dreamland, snow inside is no more obscure than Lenny’s house being clean enough to install a hot spring in the middle of the living room. Lenny snorted and awoke discovering the warm sensation was a pool of his own bile, the greens and browns mixed with the half digested chili in a mosaic pattern. “Lenny De La Art’’.

He looked to the top left of the screen and saw a flashing red bell with 100+ notifications, curious, Lenny clicked the bell icon. “The fuck?” He closed the page and reopened it. The number remained the same. Clicking the page labeled “Statistics” Lenny was surprised to see under view count the numbers read two hundred thousand with fifteen thousand comments. A smile drew across his face. He cackled manically to himself in a fit of glee. “Are you fuuuuuckin kidding me?!” Lenny clicked the comment section and read what his loyal followers had to say about his new fame.

The JewishNazi Wrote: “ Good shit man. Ya got balls.”

PurplePanda9813 said: “ Bravo, credit where credit is due.”

Pinkominko wrote: “ LOL ur nuts!”

To Lenny’s surprise Tyler wrote: “ Great job! You crushed it ma man! Hope to see more challenges. Welcome to the community.”

Lenny sat back in his chair. Crumbs crunched under his wheels as the foam inside the chair hissed as he repositioned. “The community?” Lenny smiled for the first time since he could remember. Lenny was never part of a “community” before, this could only mean one thing. He opened a word processor and at the top of the page wrote “challenge ideas”.

Lenny’s stomach grumbled. He gazed at the clock, it was noon, time for a thawed pizza. He made his way to the kitchen avoiding the bags of food, crushed boxes and whatever was left of the skeletal frame that was once the family pet. The kitchen smelled like decay but he paid no mind. The counter was covered in discarded pizza boxes, among them was a fresh pile of thawed pizzas sitting on top of one another like stacks of paper. He grabbed the top pizza supporting the bottom as the thawed crust broke apart in his hands. Suddenly, he saw something move, without thinking he reacted by smacking the counter. It was a centipede and not just any centipede but the biggest gangly legged son of a bitch Lenny has ever seen. It had a tan brown exoskeleton with stilts for legs, the body was the size of half a hotdog with antennas as long as his index finger. The centipede was so large, his smack didn’t even kill it. The centipede jerked and twitched with the few legs that weren’t broken or dismembered. Lenny looked to his left where a mason jar once used for food now sat amongst the pile of dirty dishes and rusted silverware, the mason jar had multiple colonies of mold fighting in what one could only imagine was a war for territory. Lenny grabbed the jar and unscrewed the rusted lid, flakes of rust and spores puffed out of the jar in a cloud of smoke which quickly dissipated. He grabbed the now disabled hotdog sized centipede and forced it in the jar, its bulbous frame barely fit. “Don’t worry buddy, you won’t be in here long.” Lenny laughed as he carried the jar under his arm supporting the pizza with two hands preventing the thawed dough from falling apart. Lenny made it safely to his desk and placed the greasy thawed pizza on his keyboard. Remnants of thawed cheese fell into the cracks of the keys as he placed the jar on his desk. Lenny looked at the jar and said “You’re going to make me famous!”

Thunder as loud as dynamite awoke Lenny from his sleep. His saliva formed a thick crust that ran from his mouth down to his keyboard. As he lifted his face to return to the land of the living, he released the keys he was pressing while he was passed out. The computer screen lit up and what Lenny saw he couldn’t believe. “1.2 million?” He said under his breath. Lenny rubbed his eyes to confirm he was truly awake. “1.2 million!” He said the numbers out loud again but it didn’t make them feel any more real. Lenny clicked the tab titled “Comments” “Nine thousand three hundred.” He cackled manically to himself. A cackle so wild, that if anyone heard they’d think he’s mad. Lenny read the comments.

TickleFucker wrote: “Its legs were still moving as you chewed. Fucking gross man”

ModernNazi wrote: “ They eat centipedes in Thailand all the time, big deal.”

PurplePanda9813 wrote: You’ve outdone yourself again. Challenge idea? I dare you to eat a stick of used deodorant.”

PurplePanda9813’s comment remained at the top with the most likes, 726 to be exact. A chain of comments followed his comment in a thread. The chain was a list of recommended things to eat. 914 comments to be exact. The list contained everything from lighter fluid to Lenny’s own urine. Lenny read through the comments delighted to receive so much attention. For the first time in his life, he was good at something, even more so, he was finally a part of something. Lenny needed to up the ante, the rest of the day was spent brainstorming ideas for the next video.

“Can you guys see me?” Asked Lenny as the comments flooded in.

“You look great!” “What happened?!” “Are you on coke?”

Lenny adjusted the camera to point down. He lifted his shirt to reveal folds of skin that once held sixty pounds. He slapped the flabby skin. “She’s gone boys.” Lenny chuckled to himself.

He lifted the camera to his face. “Some of you may have been wondering where I’ve been the past week. Well, I took a quick trip down south and got lipo.” Lenny waited with a baited breath for the comments to flood in.

“Ur still fat as fuck!” “Still ugly as shit but we love you.” “Happy for you man.” “You look great Lenny!”.

He watched as thousands of comments darted by. He looked back at the camera. “I have a surprise for you guys.” Lenny lifted a jar of pinkish white liquid that appeared viscous in nature. “This is 22 pounds of fat the Dr. removed from me. Normally, they don’t let you keep it but,” Lenny winked at the camera. “Life finds a way.” Comments flooded in.

“That’s fucking disgusting!” “Eat it bitch!” “Lenny….” “thats gross”

Lenny screwed off the top of the jar. The comments went wild!

“Do it!” “Please throw it away” “Fuck hes going to do it!”

He put the jar to his mouth and could smell the acrid stench of blood and decay. The fat was not stored in a solution and began to decompose moments upon entering the jar. Lenny hesitated then suddenly he began to drink. The pink liquid spilled out the side of his mouth. Comments poured in synchronistically in tune with the contents of the jar. The lipid smoothie resembled the texture of gelatin if you cooked jello in grease instead of water. As it slid down his throat his mouth became coated in a waxy substance. The bitterness was nauseating but Lenny has a legacy to maintain and on top of that, he built a tolerance to texture and taste, at this point he’s a pro. Lenny finished the contents of the jar and let out a big “ahh” as one would drinking a cold glass of iced water on a hot summer day. The comments went wild and the sound of a bell began to chime only to continually be cut off by the sound of the bell being rung again. Lenny looked at the comment section, currently, the donation tab is up to $1500 and it keeps rising. With the confidence of a celebrity at a charity telethon Lenny said “keep those donations coming.” He let out a large belch that shook the house. Some lard tried to escape his esophagus filling his mouth with a burning bitter taste but he quickly swallowed it back down. “Okay boys, let me know in the comments what to eat next and while I can’t make any promises, I will do what I can. See you tomorrow!” Lenny gave the camera a peace sign and palmed the webcam shutting off the livestream. With the fat still lingering on his hand, Lenny pulled down his sweat stained boxers and began to masturbate.

The bulb clicked as light poured into the room. A tall woman with jet black hair and skin the seductive color of caramel adjusted her chair trying to find a spot on the floor where she wouldn’t catch garbage under the legs of the chair. Her name was Sharon Estaves and she was a journalist for Splat Media, a news organization with heavy emphasis on internet culture. Despite some pieces being about frivolous topics like a keyboard playing chihuahua, she took her job seriously and expected her team to do the same.

“Sorry about the mess.” Lenny said in an embarrassed tone. “It’s not normally this bad.”

Sharon smiled, “I’ve seen worse.” (She hadn’t). Sharon looked at a skinny man in a black slim T-shirt with black jeans that if Lenny didn’t know better were painted on. The man had a well trimmed auburn beard and a purple beanie with a pride flag pinned slanted to the left. He was known as Carl, just Carl. No one knew his last name and he preferred it that way. “I’m more than a name” rhetoric he would repeat at the occasional dinner party.

He may have thought of himself as more than a name but for today he was a camera operator and nothing more.

Lenny watched nervously as the man adjusted the settings of the camera. The woman noticed Lenny’s eyes darting back and forth like a lone deer in bear country.

Sitting across from him, Sharon placed a hand on his knee to gather his attention. Lenny locked eyes with Sharon. She could sense his nerves, this wasn’t her first rodeo and the telltale signs of “I can’t do this!” brewed beneath the surface waiting to break free in the form of a violent panic attack. Hoping to quell the beast, Sharon said “Don’t be nervous.” There was a maternal tone to her voice, something about not what she said but the way she said it comforted Lenny. “You have been the most requested interview for months, you’re going to do great!” He forced a smile but said not a word. His mouth was sandpaper, his heart thumped with rigidity that felt unnatural. Lenny looked down and saw his stretched out Iron Maiden T-shirt stained with years of food and sweat quivered with the rhythm of his rapid heart. His hands were clammy, to help, he ran his hands from his knees to his crotch hoping the friction and material would absorb some of the moisture bleeding from his hands. The sweat left a trail like the mucus produced by a slug. Lenny noticed and quickly crossed his hands, as skin met skin the moisture rubbed together creating an uncomfortable wet warmth that felt as slimy as it did hot.

Sharon turned to the camera operator who was adjusting the lens “How we doing Carl?” There was a twinge of impatience in her voice. Carl said nothing and continued to make adjustments. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Carl stuck his hands out giving a thumbs up and said “We’re good.” The woman turned to Lenny, “we’re going to keep the camera rolling. I’ll ask some questions, answer as best you can.” Sharon glanced down at her notes, Lenny tried to see what she was reading but it looked like scribbles from a bleeding fountain pen on an expensive moleskine notebook.

As Sharon’s eyes darted from left to right reading the notes she mouthed what she read under her breath. Lenny watched her plump lips open and close as they formed the syllables hypnotized by her beauty. He imagined what life would be like with someone like her, how happy he would be, how great the sex was. He was startled by her voice “Don’t worry about how you sound, we’ll fix everything in post.” Lenny’s mind raced “How long was I staring? Did she know? God, she thinks I’m an idiot.”

Her voice snapped Lenny back to reality again. “Of the twenty questions we’ll probably keep the top six answers.” He nodded. “How are you feeling?” She asked with real concern in her voice. Lenny said nothing. She noticed his fidgety behavior “still a little nervous?” “Nervous?” Lenny thought. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. The thought of suicide was a sweet embrace if it meant he didn’t have to be here doing this interview any longer. Lenny felt a tightness in his chest, his breath was shallow and labored. He knew it was only anxiety but wished it was more. At least, if it was a heart attack he could get out of this godforsaken interview. Lenny tried to collect himself and in his best calm voice he said “I’m ready.”

Lenny was lost in her dark chestnut brown eyes. He imagined a life with her, two kids, a clean house with a golden retriever and a white picket fence. They would attend weekly P.T.A. meetings and charity banquets. At night they would sip expensive red wine and…

“Lenny?” Asked Sharon. He snapped back to reality. “How long was I daydreaming?” He wondered. Embarrassed Lenny felt a wave of anxiety overtake him. Sharon quickly noticed this and asked the question again hoping it would bring Him back to earth. “Why do you do it?” Why eat all the stuff you do?”

Carl panned in for a tight show on Lenny’s face. Silence filled the room as the bright Hollywood lights blinded Lenny and made sweat race from his back down to his buttcrack. He thought for a moment about how honest he wanted to answer. Lenny knew if he revealed the truth, he could be opening a door he may never be able to close again. his eyes wandered as he looked for the words hoping he could pluck them out of the air.

Sharon leaned in intensively. “Why do you do it?”

“Legacy,” said Lenny. As the words left Lenny’s mouth even he was impressed by the confidence in his response.

“What do you mean by “legacy?”” Sharon asked.

“When my parents died I realized other than being nice people and friendly neighbors, they left nothing to this world to be remembered by. Other than me, a decade from now, no one will remember they ever existed. As far as the world is concerned, their existence meant nothing.” Sharon nodded intently.

“After I’m gone, no one will remember Ari and Pauline Whikter. Their life amounted to nothing. Their hopes, dreams, desires will fade away like their bodies. After I’m gone it’s like they never existed. I don’t want that for myself. I want people to remember Lenny Whikter.” He took a deep breath as if a weight he’s been holding for years has finally lifted.

“That’s a deep answer. Are you always this philosophical?”

Lenny chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not sure where that came from.”

“I’d like to think it came from the heart.” Sharon said with a smile.

Lenny smiled at the thought of someone recognizing him as someone with hopes, desires, fears and value to share with the world. For the first time in a long time, Lenny felt human.

A week later an article came out with the title “How one man built his legacy by eating the grossest stuff imaginable.” The title was a little wordy, it was no Hemingway but it was nothing to gawk at. Lenny’s chair let out a loud squeak as he sat back. He took a deep breath filling his lungs with the stench of his living room and thought to himself “I’ve made it.”

Next week will be one year since Lenny’s stardom. He scrolled through the analytics to see how the video titled “Eating a bar of used soap” preformed. The view count read 347 views. “Fuck!” Lenny screamed as he brought both fists down on his keyboard, snapping the frame in half and sending the keys flying to elevations higher than his view count. During his meteoric rise to fame, Lenny made an unlikely alley in the form of a creative consultant.

Troy Bryair otherwise known by his screen name PurplePanda9813. Troy lived a double life, to the outside world he was a devout Christian, a father to two young girls and a congregation of 70. Troy’s wife was a good person, God fearing but good hearted. Troy Bryiar was a conduit of faith during hard times. When Charles Brixton was diagnosed with M.S. Troy created a fund which raised over thirty thousand dollars for a top of the line mechanical wheelchair. To his community, he was a saint, no one suspected, not even his wife the darkness that lurked within him when he shed the skin of Troy Bryair and stepped into PurplePanda9813.

PurplePanda had a reputation of being a cynic and a bastard but he knew VideoTube and internet culture like Cash knew his Martin D-35. At first, Troy didn’t like Lenny, he thought Lenny, like most, was a fly by night sensation trying to make a quick buck on his virality. Eventually, Troy began to respect Lenny’s dedication and whether he wanted to admit it or not, Troy enjoyed the darker side of the internet. Troy was well versed in the kind of videos that would get you on a some kind of government watchlist. Snuff films, beheadings, self-mutilation, bestiality, if it existed, Troy saw it. With knowledge of the dark arts Troy was a powerful asset for helping Lenny push the boundaries. For Lenny, it was important people kept watching regardless of the cost, for Troy, he wanted to see how far Lenny would go. With the recent decrease in viewership Lenny was anxious and desperate to remain top of mind. In an attempt to win his audience back he reached out to Troy for help.

“Can you hear me?” Mouthed Lenny.

Troy pointed at his headphones. The grainy picture was just clear enough that Lenny could make out his lips. “No sound.” Troy said.

Troy was a private person but Lenny noticed in his background was a small library of what looked like leather bound books. Lenny wasn’t much of a reader but he knew enough to know that a collection like that requires deep pockets. Lenny clicked a microphone with a line through it and suddenly it changed from white to blinking red.

“How about now?” Asked Lenny.

Troy gave a thumbs up. “Perfect.”

“So, one year is next week.” Troy said with little emotion.

“That’s the problem.”

“What is?”

“I don’t have anything planned. I need it to be big, bigger than anything I’ve ever done before. I feel like I’m losing them.”

Troy sat back in his white Herman Miller chair. Interlocking his hands behind his head. “That’s the nature of the beast.”

Lenny leaned forward, his chair squealing like a wounded animal. “My last video only pulled 347 views. That’s a 88% decrease. It’s been on a steady decline for months.” There was panic in Lenny’s voice. Saying it out loud for the first time solidified the reality of being forgotten to time, leaving no legacy, dying without anyone remembering Lenny Whikter.

“Relax” Troy said in an emotionless tone.

“I’m losing my fuckin mind!”

“Relax!” Troy said with a little aggression in his tone.

Troy got up and walked over to the drink cart where fancy crystal jars contained various brown elixirs. Troy grabbed a glass, two ice cubes and poured a glass of a dark brown liquid then returned to his chair.

“I thought Mormons aren’t supposed to drink?” Asked Lenny in a humorous tone.

“And I’m supposed to take advice from Lenny “I’m afraid no one will remember me so I eat my own shit” Whikter?”

There was silence. That cut deep and hurt more than he was willing to admit. Lenny didn’t care about much but he was terrified of not being remembered. Without kids or a wife, Lenny relied on his own talents to build a legacy people would remember forever. He held a cold exterior but the truth was, the fear of dying alone, forgotten by the world sent a chill down his spine. “I need to do something big, something to win them back.”

“I have an idea” said Troy. He leaned forward looking deadpan into the camera. The smirk on his face faded and Lenny could tell he meant business. “But you need to be all in, there’s no going back once you commit.”

Without hesitation Lenny said “I’m in.”

Troy clicked his tongue and rolled his white leather Herman Miller across the pristine hardwood floor towards a black metal filing cabinet. He reached in and pulled out a little card and wheeled back to the camera. “Call this number, they’ll send you the supplies you need. Tell them I sent you and to bill me. Consider it a gift from a friend.”

A shrill voice could be heard in the background of Troy’s video. “Troy honey, are you in there?”

Panic drew across Troys face. “Shit, I gotta go!” He quickly finished his glass, winced and hid it under the desk. Troy leaned back in his chair and said. “Coming sweetheart”. He winked at the camera and the screen went black. Lenny held in his hand the number troy gave him. He didn’t recognize the area code but after a quick search it turned out to be Kiev Ukraine. Lenny called the number and a woman with a thick Russian accent said “Bryair medical supplies”.

It’s been one week since Lenny spoke to the woman with the heavy Russian accent. By the fifth day with no tracking number he was certain nothing was coming. The internet is a cruel place, twenty four hours without attention left you as good as dead in the eyes of the viewers. Lenny hasn’t posted a video in almost two weeks. Night after night Lenny was haunted by the idea of being found dead in his home, rotting in his chair as the flies lay eggs in the sockets that were once eyes. The police identify the body as “John Doe” and that is the legacy etched into history until the end of time. Lenny never understood purpose, the idea of setting goals and ambition always felt like the greatest trap man ever fell for, that was until he got a taste of fame. Suddenly, he understood why brave men took a chance aiming for the moon, climbing the tallest mountain peaks, putting their body on the line despite every fiber of their being saying “You can and probably will die.” Fear of death couldn’t hold a candle to the relief of knowing your footprint will be etched in time forever. Long after you die you survive through legacy and that in itself is what makes life worth living.

Lenny was scrolling through comments on his last video. 212 comments total. That was the least amount of comments he’s ever received. When he drank a diarrhea smoothie, he got over 500 comments within the first twelve hours. Lenny could feel his legacy rotting away like the carcass that was once mittens the cat. He began to relive that horrid dream again when he was startled by a loud *BANG* at the door. He leapt to his feet, knees popping from the pressure of little movement they tried their best to steady themselves as he wobbled. Blood rushed to his head as he felt woozy a moment. He held onto his desk while the headrush faded and he returned back to the land of the living. Lenny wobbled over to the door checking the eyehole to see the origin of the noise. There appeared to be no one there, could it be? Lenny opened the door and lo and behold, standing at his feet in a beat up brown cardboard box was the long awaited package.

Lenny bent to lift it and each knee screamed with a loud crack. He let out a loud “ugh!” as he used what little muscle he had to lift the box that felt heavier than it looked. Carrying the box over to his desk he plopped it down to the left of his keyboard. As the box landed the monitor shook, recalibrating the image on the screen. The brown cardboard box had Russian letters on the side with no return address. A red stamp sat on the top that read in broken English “Animal Live No Shake”. When Lenny opened the box he was surprised by its contents.

The same day Lenny placed his order, still hopeful the package would come, he decided to get a step ahead and do a little research. Thanks to the wonderful community of Reddit, a user by the name of “DavesNotNear” was able to point him to an invite only website hosted in the U.K. where laws about this kind of topic are more liberal. EunichLyfe.UK is a closed community of like minded men who have taken their life back from the oppressive medical regime. Upon first discovering the site, Lenny couldn’t get anyone to answer his questions but by the end of the week, he was 50 pages into a thread about methodologies and best practices. The general consensus was, it was safer than most dental procedures if done correctly. Lenny felt confident enough and planned the rest of his week in preparation for the big day. VideoTube is tricky, what they allow and deem inappropriate changes from hour to hour. Lenny had one chance to get this right and the pressure was a lot. In his mind, if done correctly, he would forever be etched into the internet hall of fame like the kid who fed his brother too many Mentos or the cat that played the keyboard. Lenny’s fridge and counter was stocked with weeks of food so he wouldn’t need to go out during his recovery. With the year anniversary celebration happening in twenty four hours Lenny wanted to treat himself one last time. With a growl that could shake the house, Lenny built up spit in the back of his throat and launched it in his hand. With a moist hand around his shaft, stroking in a rapid motion Lenny began to cry.

It was 7:00 AM the following morning. Lenny looked at a quote that hung above his desk “Our dead are never dead to us, unless we have forgotten them.” — George Elliot

Lenny thought back to his parents and for the first time in a long time, he missed them. He wondered if anyone other than him even remembered they existed or if they were lost to the endless void of time and forgotten like so many before them. Lenny noticed a nausea that crawled from his stomach into his throat. An unsettling feeling he hasn’t experienced for some time, the feeling was fear and if he never felt it again, it would be too soon. This feeling was different from what he felt before, this wasn’t sweaty palms, teeth chattering anxiety, this was something deeper, something much more primal. Lenny took a deep breath, his chest rattled as oxygen tried its best to evade the mucous and mold spores that now took home in the deep recess of his lungs and he let out a loud “whoosh” as he exhaled. He spoke aloud to himself as if he was a coach giving a speech to his team in the last quarter of the seventh game.

Lenny chanted “Remembered forever, remembered forever, remembered forever, remembered for-fuckin-ever!” his face was beat red. He was panting as sweat rolled down the folds of his back. The event started in thirty minutes and Lenny was as ready as one could be. Time crept at a snail like pace until it was finally showtime.

The smell of burning filled the air as Lenny wedged a rusty dulled knife inbetween the rings of the stoves element. The rusty knife glowed an eerily orange as the knife hummed from the heat. Distracted by the big event Lenny grabbed the knife by the metal handle “Fuck!” he screamed in agony dropping the knife on the floor. Thinking quickly he grabbed the charred stained oven mitt that hung over the oven and picked the knife up blowing on it to remove the few hairs and particles that stuck to its hot metal. “Five second rule!” Lenny said aloud as if someone was there to judge his actions. His hand hurt and he could feel a blister forming on his palm. The stinging sensation was intense but would be welcomed compared to what’s to come in T-minus twenty minutes. Lenny reread the instructions one final time to ensure he was following the plan.

DonkeyDong69 wrote: “Listen for the humming, once you’ve reached this point the knife should be sterilized to prevent any infection.” With the orange knife fading in heat and the medical equipment laid out on his desk, he was ready to begin.

Lenny took a deep breath and with that, he hit the big red button that said “Go Live!”. Lenny watched as the crowd filled. Chat quickly became a blur of unreadable messages. The view count continued to jump faster than it could count in real time jumping from 400, 600, 914, 1465, 2020, 2389, the views continued to skyrocket and a smile drew across his face. The world was ready and all eyes were on Lenny. “Remembered for-fuckin-ever!” kept playing in Lenny’s mind on repeat. The moderators in chat had functions the average user did not have access to, PurplePanda9813 being the head moderator used his powers to bring comments from chat and project them to the screen for everyone to see.

“Rooting for you Lenny!”

“You got this buddy!”

“He’s a fuckin savage!”

“Love you Lenny!”

The moral support brought a smile to his face, a rare sight.

“Thanks guys, for the kind words. When I first started I didn’t know what to expect.” Lenny stopped for a moment, he didn’t know where he was going with this thought.

“I guess..” Lenny let out a loud sigh. “”Fuck it!” “I wanted to be remembered. I wanted to know, when I died, people would say “remember Lenny?” I don’t know why man, it’s just important. But I guess I just…well,…you guys showed me what it’s like to have friends, to be a part of something bigger than myself and for that I love you guys.”

Chat filled with hearts. The view count continued to rise with a lightning pace.

A comment popped up on the screen “what are you going to eat for us?” Lenny chuckled. “You just wait” He said in a sly tone.

Lenny rolled his chair back to ensure his whole body was in frame, he looked at the screen and saw an overweight dirty man sitting in his broken and stained computer chair. His untrimmed beard, straggly with gray hairs protruding like a game of whack-a-mole. He took a deep breath and dropped his sweat stained stretched out boxers to the sea of garbage that was once a carpet. The comments exploded.

“fucks he doin?” “Fuckin faggot” “I dun want to see this shit”

Lenny grabbed the tourniquet and took another deep breath. Under his breath he said “here goes nothing.” Lenny lifted his scrotum and placed the tourniquet behind the base of his testicles. He quickly tightened the device and within seconds Lenny could feel the tourniquet cutting off circulation to his penis and testicles. The tightness was nauseating. Lenny’s mind screamed “Take it off you idiot!!” but a voice much louder in his mind spoke up “Remembered for-fuckin-ever!’’ The pain was the worst thing he has ever experienced.

Lenny remembered the wise words of DonkeyDong “it’s all a mental game, get over that and you’ll be okay.” Chat went wild as Lenny’s genitals went from a pale white to purple and slowly creeping to a cool blue.

“The fuck is he doin?” “Micro penis hahahaha”

He took deep measured breaths to slow his heartbeat. Lenny’s penis and testicles felt frozen and dead. The bluish tinge now completely took over and he no longer recognized his genitals as a piece of himself. It looked as alien as it felt. The pain was excruciating to the point where he debated calling it but that voice kept getting louder “Remembered for-fuckin-ever!”. He began sweating profusely. In one final attempt Lenny heard a voice “it’s not too late to turn back! Just take it off and turn off the camera.” Lenny thought about it for a moment, he looked down and what he saw was unrecognizable. Purples and blues, veins bulging to the point where they looked like they were going to break through the skin. Whether he was going to go through with it or not was never as unclear as this moment. Suddenly, Lenny remembered the wise words of EunichWizard “You will try to talk yourself out of it, that’s not you, that’s society forcing you to conform.”

The pain was intense and bordered on euphoria. It was now or never. Lenny took one final breath and said “Remembered for-fuckin-ever!”

He grabbed the rusted dull, questionably sterile knife, he took a deep breath, his lungs rattling as oxygen dodged the scarring and mucus like a biological pinball machine. Lenny’s heart was racing, beating out of his chest. With each beat his genitals throbbed making the pain more intense than he could have ever imagined. He was borderlining blacking out. He unscrewed the bottle of Iodine and poured the entire bottle over his junk. As the dull knife pierced the tender flesh blood pooled from the incision. Despite how it looked, the pain was less intense than he expected. The dullness of the knife made slicing difficult, instead, Lenny had to hack in a saw-like motion back and forth. Chat went wild. The moderators couldn’t keep up with the influx of comments. Lenny increased in speed hoping to finish the job already. Back and forth, back and forth. The rusted knife pulled at the blue skin as he applied more pressure to make up for the dullness. “Ahhh!” Lenny screamed as he held his penis and testicles in the air. He quickly placed the gauze over the open wound that once held his manhood and removed the tourniquet. Lenny looked at the screen, sweat pouring down his face, eyes watering as snot ran down his lips. His heart pounding as his groin throbbed. Lenny with genitals in hand screamed “this is my legacy!” and began to chew. The meat was tough and stringy almost like beef jerky. The urethra crunched releasing a bitter combination of blood and seminal fluid. Lenny continued to chew quickly. The testicles popped in his mouth releasing a bitter concoction of bodily fluids. The fluids ran out the side of his mouth and dripped all over his bare chest. He forgot the camera was on, at this moment, his only goal was to finish this hellish nightmare. He swallowed in one big gulp. He could feel the chunks of muscle twitch and fight their way back up his throat. Lenny kept swallowing and eventually, it stayed down. Forgetting the camera was on, he grabbed his phone and dialed 911 before everything went black.

“Good morning Lenny, do you know where you are?” a plump black woman, short in stature with a friendly face and a short bob cut leaned on the rails of Lenny’s bed.

She wore pink scrubs with a bandana plastered with colorful fish.

He looked around at the neon lighting and pale white walls. The smell of bleach and alcohol filled his nostrils. “I’m in the hospital” Lenny said unenthusiastically.

“And do you know why?”

“Well, I originally called 911 because I accidentally hurt myself.”

“Is that so?” Asked the nurse.

“As I told Dr. Shanji, I fell off my bike and tore my groin.”

The nurse glanced at his chart with a smirk on her face. “I see it says that but you need to understand our perspective, I’ve been a nurse for over twenty years and seen it all but your injury doesn’t indicate something that could have happened on a bike.

We don’t judge but to help you, you need to be honest with us.”

With a blank expression Lenny asked “Can I go home?”

“Soon.” Said the nurse. “First, we want you to speak with Dr. Ingham. She’s a lovely person you will really like her.”

“I’m not crazy! I just want to go home.”

“No one thinks you’re crazy, what’s so important at home?”

“I have work I need to finish.”

“And what work is that?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Heard it all before, try me.”

Lenny scanned the room like an animal looking to make a mad dash for the exit.

“No chance” He thought to himself.

He looked up at her smiling face and said “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Is this “job” related to your injury?” She asked with great concern in her voice. “I want you to know if you’re in trouble we have people that can help you. No one has to know.” Lenny said nothing.

“Well, I’ll have Dr. Ingham examine you if he feels you’re not a danger to yourself or others, we can’t force you to stay.” The nurse tapped the guard rail and waddled out of the room.

It was 6:00PM by the time Lenny got home. An icepack sat between his legs, it was cold but between the thousand milligrams of Ibuprofen, the morphine and the iced pack, the pain was manageable. It’s been seven days since Lenny last uploaded.

His wound suffered a minor infection from the “injury” and as a result, pus seeped through the bandage. It was time to replace the gauze and that’s when Lenny had the brilliant idea. Lenny hit the big red button and began to eat the pus soaked bandage. It was dry, bitter and sour but like everything else, Lenny got it down. “Remembered for-fuckin-ever!” Lenny said to himself as he uploaded the video. He sat by his computer refreshing the page every 10 minutes to watch the view counter. By the end of the first day he had 3 views. By the second day it was 5, three days passed then, four, finally a week later Lenny only had 13 views.

Lenny reached out to PurplePanda9813 but he never responded. It was Friday night, New Years Eve. The word world was celebrating a new year and new beginnings. Lenny was eating a thawed Pizza with his girlfriend. “Hey boys! Kandy Gestin here. Back from Mexico! Did you miss me?” Lenny looked at the clock, it read 12:02 “A new year, the old me.” Lenny began to cry.

• The End

P.S. If you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, check out my Substack for more original stories!

Originally published at https://botgore.substack.com.