The Psycho Plastic Surgeon of City Centre

This story was created during an English Class, as an exercise in the usage of expressions. As usual whenever we need to create something, I use it as creative exercise as well. In this exercise, we received a bunch of keywords that needed to be used. These words will be highlighted in bold font. And the story will sound… peculiar. Not to say stupid.

 

Once upon a time, there was a delivery man who suffered of ill mental health. He was kinda slow, but no one worried too much about him. One day, this man received the task of delivering a huge parcel. He found out that the parcel was, in fact, plastic surgery equipment. As he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, (bad) memories were triggered, turning him instantly into an unscrupulous artist of deception and deformation. He simply set up an office on an old building, and invited people in for plastic surgery. Most refused point blank, but there were always a gullible few who ended up being taken for a ride with his doctorly manners. The scene of the crime was not limited to this old building, however, and sprawled over the area known as Dublin City Centre. But this madness did not come out of nowhere, it had an origin. It had a “why”.

Long before the Desfigurements of Dublin, as the story would eventually be known, there was a slick young man, who was planning to become the world (or, at least, Ireland’s) best plastic surgeon. But, after only one year in college, he was categorically denied a continuation of his studies for his erratic behaviour (and his “cosmetic improvements of farm animals” as he called it). In other words, he was a nutcase. Devastated, the slick young man had a trip over to County Wicklow, where he would remain for a long time, living a reclusive life until his later years. Some say time heals, but after years, nothing changed. To cut a long story short, he could never live up to the dream he had been clutching for so many years. Although he still felt young at heart, the years caught up to him, he ended up moving back to Dublin to live his last years with any job he got.

Turns out that, unbeknownst even to him, his life was about to have an unexpected turn of events. Strictly speaking, after a few more years working as a delivery man, he went batshit insane.

That is to say, boys and girls, that you should not fall for any crazy talk about a cheap makeover in the city streets. So there.

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