It was a terrifying moment in my life...for as I pressed the "send" button, I noticed I had made a typo...and it was too late to change it. Frantically, I checked my "sent" messages, and I located what I had just sent to my dear friend, Keita. There the typo was, standing right in front of me...looking at me...mocking me.
"No damn typo mocks ME!" I exclaimed, bravely.
"I will do whatever I darn well please!" On(one*) replied.
"Please, just let me fix you and we can just pretend that none of this happened." I glanced around at my surroundings, in search for something that I could hit On(one*) on the head with.
"Don't think that I don't see you searching your surroundings, trying to find something to hit me with! I know what you're up to!" On(one*) said.
It was then that I realized I was not strong enough to defeat the typo on my own. Without my love, Keita, by my side...I was nothing...Nothing but a waste of space in the boiling desert lands of California.
I fell to the ground, defeated. All that I could hope for was that my dear old friend would come across my dying body and give me CPR.
"Quit pretending you're near death, just so you can get CPR from a chick with an accent," On(one*) sneered at me."
SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I shouted. "I MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD ANYWAY...THERE'S NOTHING IN THIS WORLD LEFT TO LIVE FOR...NOT AFTER A TERRIBLE TYPO LIKE YOU CAME AROUND!!!! I'D RATHER BE DEAD THAN BE ALIVE AND KNOWING THAT I BROUGHT A DEMONIC MISTAKE LIKE YOU IN TO THIS WORLD!!!!!"
On(one*) bent his head down, frowning. Tears began to build up in his eyes as he looked toward me and asked, "...Do you really mean that? That's all I am to you? A mistake? A broken condom?"
"Yes, On(one*)...the only thing you're good for is a hole..."
"Well, if that's really how you feel...I guess my life isn't even worth fighting for anymore...go ahead, fix me, turn me in to whoever you want me to be. Just know that I will never live a happy life, knowing that you turned me in to something that I'm not."
"LEGIT." I said, confidently, as I brought a flyswatter down hard on to the face of On(one*). I stared at his shaking body, and I knew what I had to do.
I unsheathed my sword. I had yanked it out of some stone back in the day...I never knew what I would need it for...but now I knew the time had come. I gently brought the sword down on one side of On(one*)'s shoulder, and then the other.
"From this day forth, On(one*) will now be reffered to as One."
And that, my friends, is how typos are fixed.