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! REPORT
I Am Jack's Raging Smile
3D Render by mrtauredGenesis 8 Males participating in Fight Club.
From the POV of The Narrator.
Today, I wanted to tell my boss to go fuck himself.
And that I knew about the thing. The thing at Chi's Chi's Bar N Grill on 10th street. The company threw a party, and he took a waitress to a hotel after. He drove drunk too. I know because I followed him. I took a picture of him going in with her. I wanted to lay it on his desk and walk in after him to tell him to give me a raise. To pay me what I'm worth or I'll show his wife what he's worth. But... I didn't. And also, that bastard dumped a shit ton of paperwork on me. I just did it. I didn't stand up for myself.
I am Jack's blind obedience.
I get home late. It's 6 pm already. I toss the bill I picked up at the mail slot downstairs on the counter. My ex would have bitched about it. But she left. Sometimes I pretend to miss her. It's a lie. The truth is she was like a teddy bear kids hug at night for me. I'm supposed to have someone there, so she was there, because she was who I met and agreed to come. That's it. Social comfort. We hardly slept together. Sex. We hardly had sex.
Get a wife. Have kids. Have grand kids. Let the state raise them while you make your boss richer and prepare for a nursing home. This was the life I was prepared for.
I am jack's bleeding heart.
It's late, but not late enough to miss dinner at Five Guys. Plenty of time to walk so I do that. I should walk more. Exercise more. That's what the doctor said anyways. I don't get enough sleep, and he thinks I'm faking it and staying up to render or play games. In truth... I just sit there and watch infomercials all night. Then I go and get screwed by a multimillion-dollar company before next round. I just do it alone now. I imagine better things in my life. I've heard you can manifest a better life simply by imagining it. I see myself in a field of sunflowers.
So many sunflowers.
Suddenly. Like a cure. The water sprays across the back of my hundred-dollar coat. I'd managed to think about something better, but I forgot it, freed from my imaginary broken promise land by this. I turn and there he is. A punk looking dude in a mechanics uniform with a black eye, holding a hose. He's spraying off the sidewalk outside a small car shop like nothing happened.
"Excuse me."
Like a 2nd dose. I'm hit again. This time right in my face. My body reacts and so does my mouth.
"What the hell man?"
We exchange words. He uses the hose again. I wanna punch the guy. But I can't. It's against the law-
He punches me.
It's a light punch. Like a baby brother would. I try to walk away. He hits me with the hose and chases me with a constant stream up my ass. I can't. I... I... I swing. He drops the hose and holds his eye. Then shakes it off and swings at me. I duck and I just keep swinging. It was better than sunflowers. Better than oceans. Beaches. Masturbation... Sex.
Next thing I know. He has another black eye and a busted lip and I'm holding a business card in one hand, his hand in the other. Fight Club? He's proud of me for fighting back. Says I deserve my life back.
I am jack's overwhelming courage.
It's a bar. My life is in the basement of a bar. Is this rock bottom? I haven't fought in years and the guy I fought gave me a card and said I deserve my life back. And I just did it. I went like I was told.
It's like the world took a shit and hid it here. David. The punk. Nods at me and tells me to go stand over there. I go stand over there and watch the basement fill with more and more men like him and me. I can tell at first who they were. Businessmen. Fast food workers. Average joes. My mail man.... Everyone is chatting but me until He comes down the stairs. Then no one says anything.
A beaten face stares though blue light glasses that shimmer as he takes it all in. I can't tell if he's looking at me. It feels like he could see me without turning his head with those things on. He just stands there and waits for the last hard heads to shut it.
Then he speaks. A voice that I immediately love. Like a father that cares for me and only me.
"Gentlemen. The first rule of Fight Club is. You do not talk about Fight Club."
My mail man is near me. I can see him closer now. I thought he had fallen or something the other day. His lip was busted and now I see his ribs are bruised too. He smiles at me. His gums are blood blistered.
The man went on.
"The 2nd rule of Fight Club is. You Do Not Talk About Fight Club."
He takes off a button shirt that's missing three buttons and was crooked. Chucks it.
"The 3rd rule, if someone yells stop, goes limp, or taps out, the fight is over."
He kicks his shoes off. I do as the romans do and take off my coat and shirt. My shoes. Everyone is doing this. Their tops and shoes as if to prepare. Everybody looks like they've been chewed up and spat out by earth itself except me. Hardened Joes shed their skin.
I feel weak. Like a sick boy.
"The 4th rule, only two guys a fight, gentlemen. The 5th rule, only one fight at a time. The 6th rule, No shirts and No shoes. The 7th rule, the fights will go on as long as they have to."
Knuckles are popping. Necks are cracking. fuck yeahs are whispering. I can feel the energy shoot up my feet to my head. Suddenly it was all so clear. His back was turned my way until he turns around with the glasses on his head now. His eyes are like flames that light the current me on fire. I am scared. I am about to get my life back. I can feel it. Whatever this is. It is a part of me now. Or I am a part of it rather.
He looks right at me.
"And the 8th and final rule. If this is your first night at Fight Club. You have to fight."
I am Jack's raging smile.
Haha. A little story to go with this Fight Club Render. I am often inspired by the movies I watch, so I hope you enjoyed this.
Have a great day!
From the POV of The Narrator.
Today, I wanted to tell my boss to go fuck himself.
And that I knew about the thing. The thing at Chi's Chi's Bar N Grill on 10th street. The company threw a party, and he took a waitress to a hotel after. He drove drunk too. I know because I followed him. I took a picture of him going in with her. I wanted to lay it on his desk and walk in after him to tell him to give me a raise. To pay me what I'm worth or I'll show his wife what he's worth. But... I didn't. And also, that bastard dumped a shit ton of paperwork on me. I just did it. I didn't stand up for myself.
I am Jack's blind obedience.
I get home late. It's 6 pm already. I toss the bill I picked up at the mail slot downstairs on the counter. My ex would have bitched about it. But she left. Sometimes I pretend to miss her. It's a lie. The truth is she was like a teddy bear kids hug at night for me. I'm supposed to have someone there, so she was there, because she was who I met and agreed to come. That's it. Social comfort. We hardly slept together. Sex. We hardly had sex.
Get a wife. Have kids. Have grand kids. Let the state raise them while you make your boss richer and prepare for a nursing home. This was the life I was prepared for.
I am jack's bleeding heart.
It's late, but not late enough to miss dinner at Five Guys. Plenty of time to walk so I do that. I should walk more. Exercise more. That's what the doctor said anyways. I don't get enough sleep, and he thinks I'm faking it and staying up to render or play games. In truth... I just sit there and watch infomercials all night. Then I go and get screwed by a multimillion-dollar company before next round. I just do it alone now. I imagine better things in my life. I've heard you can manifest a better life simply by imagining it. I see myself in a field of sunflowers.
So many sunflowers.
Suddenly. Like a cure. The water sprays across the back of my hundred-dollar coat. I'd managed to think about something better, but I forgot it, freed from my imaginary broken promise land by this. I turn and there he is. A punk looking dude in a mechanics uniform with a black eye, holding a hose. He's spraying off the sidewalk outside a small car shop like nothing happened.
"Excuse me."
Like a 2nd dose. I'm hit again. This time right in my face. My body reacts and so does my mouth.
"What the hell man?"
We exchange words. He uses the hose again. I wanna punch the guy. But I can't. It's against the law-
He punches me.
It's a light punch. Like a baby brother would. I try to walk away. He hits me with the hose and chases me with a constant stream up my ass. I can't. I... I... I swing. He drops the hose and holds his eye. Then shakes it off and swings at me. I duck and I just keep swinging. It was better than sunflowers. Better than oceans. Beaches. Masturbation... Sex.
Next thing I know. He has another black eye and a busted lip and I'm holding a business card in one hand, his hand in the other. Fight Club? He's proud of me for fighting back. Says I deserve my life back.
I am jack's overwhelming courage.
It's a bar. My life is in the basement of a bar. Is this rock bottom? I haven't fought in years and the guy I fought gave me a card and said I deserve my life back. And I just did it. I went like I was told.
It's like the world took a shit and hid it here. David. The punk. Nods at me and tells me to go stand over there. I go stand over there and watch the basement fill with more and more men like him and me. I can tell at first who they were. Businessmen. Fast food workers. Average joes. My mail man.... Everyone is chatting but me until He comes down the stairs. Then no one says anything.
A beaten face stares though blue light glasses that shimmer as he takes it all in. I can't tell if he's looking at me. It feels like he could see me without turning his head with those things on. He just stands there and waits for the last hard heads to shut it.
Then he speaks. A voice that I immediately love. Like a father that cares for me and only me.
"Gentlemen. The first rule of Fight Club is. You do not talk about Fight Club."
My mail man is near me. I can see him closer now. I thought he had fallen or something the other day. His lip was busted and now I see his ribs are bruised too. He smiles at me. His gums are blood blistered.
The man went on.
"The 2nd rule of Fight Club is. You Do Not Talk About Fight Club."
He takes off a button shirt that's missing three buttons and was crooked. Chucks it.
"The 3rd rule, if someone yells stop, goes limp, or taps out, the fight is over."
He kicks his shoes off. I do as the romans do and take off my coat and shirt. My shoes. Everyone is doing this. Their tops and shoes as if to prepare. Everybody looks like they've been chewed up and spat out by earth itself except me. Hardened Joes shed their skin.
I feel weak. Like a sick boy.
"The 4th rule, only two guys a fight, gentlemen. The 5th rule, only one fight at a time. The 6th rule, No shirts and No shoes. The 7th rule, the fights will go on as long as they have to."
Knuckles are popping. Necks are cracking. fuck yeahs are whispering. I can feel the energy shoot up my feet to my head. Suddenly it was all so clear. His back was turned my way until he turns around with the glasses on his head now. His eyes are like flames that light the current me on fire. I am scared. I am about to get my life back. I can feel it. Whatever this is. It is a part of me now. Or I am a part of it rather.
He looks right at me.
"And the 8th and final rule. If this is your first night at Fight Club. You have to fight."
I am Jack's raging smile.
Haha. A little story to go with this Fight Club Render. I am often inspired by the movies I watch, so I hope you enjoyed this.
Have a great day!
Working for others is a never ending thankless task (Asshole bosses who fail upwards are ever present) So thanks for this story and Render, Fight Club is a great fk you movie along with Falling Down imho.
The lighting, main character nad the crowd in the background sell it for me Cheers!
The lighting, main character nad the crowd in the background sell it for me Cheers!
REPLY
! REPORT
mrtaured
Karma: 14,460
Tue, May 06Hahaha. Thank you my friend! This one did turn out pretty cool and fight club is awesome.!
Oh you really did it this time, Mrtaured.
You dropped a cinematic monologue so raw it left my soul bruised and whispering the rules under its breath like gospel.
This wasnt just a renderit was an existential punch to the pixels, a therapy session held in the shadows of a bar basement, with the ghost of Tyler Durden bartending and handing out knuckle sandwiches. And you? Oh, you didnt just walk into Fight Club... you rendered the first rule in 4K.
But hold upwheres my girl DD Kimora, aka Lethal Rabbit? Because you know damn well she'd be in that basement in a crimson leather jacket, chewing bubblegum and side-eyeing the chaos like,
Aww, look at all these emotionally constipated men solving trauma with punches. Precious.
And THEN shed throw someone through a folding chair just to see if it sparks. (Spoiler: it does. It always does.)
This whole vibe is a cocktail of angst, adrenaline, and just enough self-awareness to make it feel like you're spiralingbut with style. You really said,
I am Jacks shattered expectations... but make it art.
Absolutely brilliant. Absolutely bonkers.
Absolutely you.
Now get back in the ringI heard your next opponent is feelings.
And they dont stand a chance.
You dropped a cinematic monologue so raw it left my soul bruised and whispering the rules under its breath like gospel.
This wasnt just a renderit was an existential punch to the pixels, a therapy session held in the shadows of a bar basement, with the ghost of Tyler Durden bartending and handing out knuckle sandwiches. And you? Oh, you didnt just walk into Fight Club... you rendered the first rule in 4K.
But hold upwheres my girl DD Kimora, aka Lethal Rabbit? Because you know damn well she'd be in that basement in a crimson leather jacket, chewing bubblegum and side-eyeing the chaos like,
Aww, look at all these emotionally constipated men solving trauma with punches. Precious.
And THEN shed throw someone through a folding chair just to see if it sparks. (Spoiler: it does. It always does.)
This whole vibe is a cocktail of angst, adrenaline, and just enough self-awareness to make it feel like you're spiralingbut with style. You really said,
I am Jacks shattered expectations... but make it art.
Absolutely brilliant. Absolutely bonkers.
Absolutely you.
Now get back in the ringI heard your next opponent is feelings.
And they dont stand a chance.
REPLY
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GIMP
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