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Delete this page.No, really. Delete it immediately. Don't look at another word.What are you waiting for? It's for your own good, really, for if you continue to read this article about my humble memoir, Mister B. Gone, penned by one Mr. Clive Barker, you will only get yourself into more and more trouble. Mind-rending, soul-shattering, sanity-obliterating trouble. You'll go utterly mad, forgetting all that you were, all because you kept on reading this page.Who am I? I am your humble servant, Jakabok Botch, and I have been trapped in this state for hundreds of years, having endured such unimaginable pain that you would be better off not finishing this article.If you are the merciful type, you will end my suffering and Delete. This. Page. Immediately. I have experienced so much suffering in my long life that it would be a great relief to me if this page were utterly annihilated.Why are you still reading? Are you so morbidly curious about this book that you won't perform this one act of kindness without hearing more about it?Oh, very well. I suppose the miserable tale of my long, wretched life must amuse you. But you must promise that when you are done you will delete this page and end my centuries-long torture.Agreed? Good.
This book contains examples of:
Abusive Parents: Pappy Gatmuss, who would often come home plastered to the gills and beat me until I howled in pain. He beat my Ma, too, but see The Stoic, below.
Baddie Flattery: A flatterer? Moi? Oh, certainly not! Don't be so modest, Troper. I know someone with your steadfast integrity, depthless compassion, and shining intellect is just the sort of person who'd find it in their heart to help me. I can only hope someday a reader's vain enough to fall for this.
Beast and Beauty: My partner Quitoon was always the pretty one. Me? Not so much.
Berserk Button: You can stab me with your blade, but laughing at me and calling me an abomination? Unforgivable. I see you smirking at me, Troper.
Blood Bath: There's nothing like a relaxing bath in a tub of baby blood, although it's a bitch to keep the little critters alive long enough so the bath would be warm when I empty their blood into the tub.
Brown Note: I tried to warn you at every turn, but noooooo...
Cold-Blooded Torture: This happens frequently throughout my tale, some of it perpetrated by humans, but it's child's play compared to what I have in store for you if you don't delete this page...
Compelling Voice: I got that from my Ma. I'm very proud of it - but it doesn't work on anyone who's deaf.
Cool Sword: Quitoon had such a beautiful blade that showed me the intense physical beauty of the world as I used it, like the black and blue with orange specks of a grown man's cries, as bright as his blood. It also acted on a will of its own to great effect.
Corrupt Church: You better believe it. Quitoon and I had some fun with these guys.
Deadpan Snarker: At times, of course. If you were exposed to the kind of things I've experienced, it helps to throw a little bile in their direction.
Deal with the Devil: Wanna make one? I can give you anything your heart desires, truly. There's just one little favor you have to do for me.
The Grotesque: Oh, I originally got my good looks from my Ma, but then Pappy left me face-down in a bonfire for a few minutes while he beat the everloving snot out of her...
Half the Man He Used to Be: Remember Cawley? The man who had Pappy G. and I captured in that net? Well, Quitoon's sword made sure that wicked smile of his was evenly split.
Heterosexual Life-Partners: Quitoon and I become quite close friends during our century of travelling together. Then things get quite a bit more complicated, right at the very end. At least until I was shoved into that horrible press..
I'm Having Soul Pains: A curious property about an angel's sword, really... although the wound was physically not deep, it laid my soul open to the core.
Inescapable Net: The means by which I am hauled into the World Above. It was baited with steak and beer. I am, admittedly, a bit ashamed of that, but I did help Pappy G. get out. Too bad he was about two miles above the World Below when the rope snapped...
Interspecies Romance: I do fancy myself a decent kisser, even with my lips burned off, and Caroline was quite a lovely girl until her face got boiled off.
Secret Diary: I used to keep a collection of notes regarding the tortures I wanted to inflict on my tormentors. Ma made me burn them all so that Pappy wouldn't discover the very large section devoted to him.
Spiritual Successor: While my book is more comedic in tone, you can make a very strong argument that I'm this to Clive Barker's short-story Hell's Event (possibly even in the same universe).
The Stoic: Pappy G. beat my Ma even harder than he beat me, but she never made a sound. Not even a whimper. I eventually find out that she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt her.
I couldn't help but notice that you still haven't deleted this page. It's probably for the best. I have a confession to make, though... deleting this page would have released a very angry, quite dangerous being upon the world - yes, moi - and of course my first order of business would have been to slaughter you and destroy everything you hold dear. Oh, don't look so taken aback. I do this sort of thing all the time. Not to worry, though, as I am very patient...and there's always the next troper...