The following has swearing, please use own discretion.
He had been sitting on the hard wooden chair at his desk for nearly two hours. His back was aching, but he sat perfectly still facing forward into a blank wall. A few feet to his left was a large window overlooking traffic and a small park. On the desk sat a vintage typewriter that performed better than it looked and in the typewriter awaited a blank white sheet of paper. He stared at the wall with his hands on either side of the typewriter just sitting. Waiting. His apartment was quiet, except for the moan of afternoon traffic and the songs of various birds. He had been staring so long at the bland cream-coloured wall, that the texture of the paint on the wall began making odd shapes and he had to blink his eyes several times just to make sure it really was what he was seeing. He banged his fist on the table which made his cat, who was lying lazily on the foot of the bed behind him, jump awake.
“This is fucking useless!” he said to no one, but directing it at his cat, who simply went back to pretending to sleep. “I have sat here for so long. We should have had at least something by now!” He turned and looked at his cat, who wasn’t in any way interested in his problems. “Thanks a lot!” He said to his cat. “You couldn’t perhaps try be a little more helpful, no? An idea or two? No?” He paused, almost expecting an answer. “Lazy shit.” and like a little school boy, tossed a pen at his cat.
“WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!” Meowed his cat. “What you do that for? Are you fucking nuts?”
“I’ve sat here for nearly two hours, trying to write a story, my back aches, my eyes are seeing weird shit on the wall and you haven’t contributed a fucking thing!”
His cat sighed and rolled his eyes “Could you be any more whinny?!”
“Yeah. Shall I do an impersonation of you at dinner time?”
“What does that even mean?” The two looked at each other and gave each other a half-hearted shrug. “Could you just help me please, instead of sleeping all the time?” he said to the cat.
“Fine.” Said the cat through a yawn that almost unhinged his jaw. “Where are we?”
“Nowhere.” answered the guy.
“So, at the beginning then?” questioned the cat.
“We need an idea to be at the beginning. Right now, we are before the beginning. We are in the middle of nowhere, without an idea. How are we suppose to get around without an idea? Ideas are like the vehicles of the mind!” he said, as if high on MDMA.
“Jeez, chill out man. Take it easy!” said the cat as he got up to sit.
“You know, for someone who can tell great stories, you’re really shit at coming up with ideas.” said the guy to his cat, whom now sat licking his right paw.
“Ooh, ouch! Project much?” retorted the cat.
“Project? What?” muttered the guy confused.
“Yeah. You’re projecting because you can’t come up with a good enough idea. Its you, not me.” and the cat went back to cleaning his paws.
“Get stuffed!” The two looked at each other, paused and shrugged.
“Well you could at least help me a bit.” said the guy. “You’re good with stories.”
“Oh snap. I thought I was a lazy shit?” retorted the cat.
“Well, in some alternate universe you are.”
“Oh yeah? Well in some alternate universe you’re douche bag.” proclaimed the cat.
“Some would say we live in that universe.” replied the guy.
The two laughed. “Wait.” Said the cat. “That’s brilliant. Tell the many stories of the multiverse.”
“Great! How do we start it?” Asked the guy
There was a few moments paws…and then the cat answered “Somewhere in the multiverse…”