Progress Report

This sort of really happened recently to Kenny.

Francis U. Jones
3rd Period Computer Science (Mr. Brown)
April 3, 2005

I see on my syllabus that I am required to turn in as of 3rd period tomorrow a progress report on the project I’ve been working on for the past two months involving my project topic. With that wonderful thesis for this paper out of the way, I shall begin to report on my progress.

I’m afraid to say that this project has sapped all of my dwindling resources, preventing me from completing the cold fusion project that was just days from reaching fruition before the start of the semester. Because of the rigors of my project topic (which I’m sure I don’t have to tell you is very involving, being the topic that it is), I now fear that I will not be able to complete this scientific savior of mankind before the cancer that ravages my flesh from within overwhelms my last remaining fortitude and takes me into the horrible embrace of death.

Since beginning this project, my love life has suffered. My girlfriend left me, saying that I was spending far too much time perusing ancient lexicons to better understand the topic that I was given. She was 8 months pregnant with my first child, a child we were planning to raise despite our young age, but was so stricken with grief that she tossed herself in front of Bus 324 right before second load. Sadly, it was full of elementary school students.

This project has ruined the lives of those children. It has killed my only love, and my unborn child. It has taken from me all will to live. The only progress I feel I have made of any significance is in understanding the true depths of insanity. To be frank, I am now bat-shit crazy. Last night, I broke into the house of a twelve year old girl and watched her sleep.

It’s been weeks since I flushed the toilet.

I’ve contemplated becoming a Republican.

Mr. Brown, I’m not sure what abilities I showed you before you assigned me this project, but it is now readily apparent by the fact that I have not bathed in weeks that my superior intelligence, so much greater than that of the other students, is still incapable of fathoming the implications of this project on the world at large. I am not capable of such a task, sir. My mind is broken. The only way I’ve been able to keep what little hold I have left on reality is by having wild sex with your wife every night while you’re asleep on the couch, watching the Sci-Fi channel. Without this one pleasure, I surely would already be dead, either from my demons, or the horrible disease that is eating me alive.

With that said, I shall press on until the very end. I ask only that you keep these problems in mind when it comes time to evaluate the final product.

Also, some of my fellow students have been asking me what, exactly, my project topic is. Since I wasn’t entirely sure if I should tell them, since it might be a topic you planned to entrust only to me, I told my classmates that you would announce my topic to them at the start of class on Monday, as soon as I got there. Would you be so kind as to do this?

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