Gonzalo's a fucking bitch.
The following was a note found attached to a diary. These are the diary pages, in order the pages were written:
10/5/12:
That senile old man keeps telling me stories. Something about how Barrack Obama is actually a shape shifting reptilian-like creature that can shoot lasers out of his urethra and is threatening to destroy all of the ice cream trucks in existence. I'm actually quite curious about these stories the old man keeps telling me. I'm also curious as to who this old man even is. I'll find out more on Tuesday.
10/9/12:
I asked the old man what his name is mid-conversation. He was talking about how bubble gum is made out of severed monkey penis meat and that it will infect all kids who chew it with a mind-controlling bacteria to believe that Justin Timberlake is god. Anyhow, his response to my question was what really confused me though, he kept spewing random gibberish. All I could make out as was "Gone son low". I took this phrase and made it his name. Gonzalo. I'm still confused as to who exactly Gonzalo is though.
10/12/12:
I stopped by Gonzalo today. He seems extremely ill though, like he hasn't eaten in days. He was barely breathing. I'm worried.
10/27/12:
Gonzalo is dead. He died one week ago and his funeral was yesterday. All of his friends and family were there, and it turns out his friends and family were rats. I was the only human who attended. It was really sad, but senile old men don't tend to live long.
11/3/12:
I keep hearing this ringing sound, like a telephone. I check my phone and nobody is calling or anything. I need to investigate this.
11/7/12:
The damn ringing. It won't stop, I haven't slept in days. I also hear slight laughter too. Followed by a horrid stench that smells like skunk spray. But then I remembered, my roommate is a skunk and she sprayed me because I took the last slice of pizza.
11/14/12:
I finally got a call. It was from Gonzalo. I was in shock, he's fucking dead. He's. Fucking. Dead. I'll answer it tomorrow.
11/15/12:
The phone never stopped ringing. I finally picked it up and answered. It was Gonzalo's old raspy voice saying asking one question. "Did I ever tell you about how blankets are made out of hooker unicorn skin...?".