Your Cells Are Showing

Once upon a time there was a little mobile phone, who was also a pro-gymnast. A sexy pro-gymnast

His name was Jimdump. Jimdump had been given the honor of competing in the Olympics. This was of course a moment of great pride for his parents, Jimflop and Jimbloat.

 But Jimdump hated gymnastics. He pretty much hated everything, though, so whatevs.

 His father told him he had to practice more. All that sleeping 5 hours a night and eating two  meals a day was holding him back. So he locked him in a coffin, which was actually pretty spacious for a cell phone, and told him not to come out until he could do a septuple head spin.

 I should take this time to point out that his father didn't know much about the sport. But he damn well wasn't going to let that stop him from being the best coach ever.

 Jimdump tried and tried, but no matter what he did, he could not for the battery-length of him complete the septuple head spin. That was for break-dancers anyway, and he had long before decided they were all massive dickheads, cos they were infamous for phone abuse.

He came up with a plan. His designers had installed a swiss army knife in him, obviously with the possibility of a phone getting locked inside a coffin in mind, since mostly the kind of people who use flash phones wouldn't have the first idea about survival techniques. They'd just google it on their iPads and then when it said you can survive off eating gravel, they'd be like 'awe3ome dudez!!'

  After about 10 hours Jimdump had managed to cut a slice out of the coffin (which he saved for later. you never know) and wriggle his way out.

Now he was free, he had to figure out what to do with his life. Could he ever have a career in gymnastics? Or break-dancing? Or should he try something entirely new, like robbing a bank?

 So hmm, he thought, what can I use my gymnastic skills for?

 Something that requires a lot of coordination...

 A lot of movement...

 Hmm

 Ah! I know!

Prostitution!

A convenient store clerk!

 A convenient store clerk who offers quickies on the side.

 So he took out a loan on his merry-go-round (don't ask) and used the money to rent a building. He hired some help from south of the border to paint a sign for him. They were fluent in exactly zero languages. So he just used the tried-and-proven method of pointing and grunting to communicate.

 They didn't take kindly to this, as their culture considered communication to be insulting. They tied him up and put him on a boat and took him back to their home land.

 Then they had a coconut party, which was supposed to be welcoming to Jimbump. But he had nowhere upon his person (phone-some) that he could attach coconuts. So the islanders voted to burn him.

 He tried to run away, but you know, no legs. So he did the only thing he could do. He used his swiss army knife once again to carve himself a raft. Then he floated on the lush blue sea for days. Later it occurred to him his basic shape was that of a raft, and he could have saved himself a lot of time by simply floating himself.

 Soon a seagull spotted him and tried to eat him. But once they'd figured out the misunderstanding, they became the best of friends.

 The seagull would use Jimdump to call all his friends. But Jimdump didn't feel used at all. He was just happy to be used in a way that wasn't prostitution.

 One day, the seagull was calling his mates to arrange a party. They invited Jimdump too. This is how he found himself amongst 50 seagulls all squaking and boasting about how many fish they'd eaten and how many eggs they'd had laid by some bitch of a seagull.

 There were other people at the party too. And to really make this story successful, we have to shoehorn a female interest into it. So get in there! *Shove*
 A hot female girl stumbled onto the dance floor. Because if she wasn't hot, then she wouldn't be worth falling in love with, would she?

 The second he laid eyes on this lush female girl lady, he knew she was the one. Mostly because she was the only other cell phone he'd ever met who wasn't related to him.

 But of course there has to be some drama/suspense, so their first encounter can't go too well.

 "Hi, my name's asf;slfdj. Wait, come back! I meant to say Jimdump!"

 By that time, she was already buried deep in the belly of a women's bathroom, a sacred realm he'd never set foot in. But perhaps today was the day.

 By nature of being a phone, Jimdump didn't actually have to enter the women's bathroom, for which I'm sure the reader is glad (they are haunting places). He just rang her. All phones have each other's number.

 He rang her and said 'Hey, babe. Can I have your number?'

 'Okay. It's the one you're calling me on'

 'Awesome. Let's go out. We were meant for each other baby, you and me, I floated across the sea, balla-bing-balla-bong.'

 The female girl lady phone had heard all this before, and was ready to hang up, but there was something about 'asadsghjkl' that made her think twice. She resolved to give him a chance.

 'Okay,' she said, 'if you can do a septuple headspin, I'll go out with you'

 Oh this old trick, he thought. Why didn't I listen to my father?

  He said, "Okay, but first I need to buy you several drinks."

 (He knew a thing or two about women)

 So she came outside and walked up to the bar and asked for a fuzzy navel. The bartender didn't actually know any of the drink formulae. He just grabbed Pepto Bismol and Mountain Dew and mixed them together with ice and nobody ever complained.

 But as she started to drink, he noticed she was getting fatter. This isn't how drinks are supposed to work!

 After about four drinks, she was one of those cell phones from the mid '90s.

 "Uhh... look at the time. I'd better get back to my mom. I mean apartment!" He ran out before anyone could react to that.

 And the love interest of the story was never seen again. Not just by him, but anyone. She like, imploded into herself or something. It was some crazy shit.

 But Jimdump didn't know about it. He was too busy being a drunk. And a homo.

 Before he knew it, he'd picked up several STIs from his gay drunken love affairs. In phones, these manifest themselves as those annoying sales texts, and PPI claims.

 No one wanted to be friends with him, because whenever they were talking, he'd suddenly blurt out 'ARE YOU DUE COMPENSATION?' mid-conversation. So Jimdump ended up alone and on the streets.

 'This is it,' he thought. 'If there's ever a time in my life I need to learn the septuple headspin, this is it. And what better time to train, when I have nothing else going on in my life and this whole pavement and bit of cat puke?'

 *Cue training montage*

Two weeks later he woke up ready for action. He was going to make the world his bitch today. He ran out into the streets and said, "I'm not afraid of you!"

 This triggered a gang of gang members--who were currently out ganging it up--to approach him in the most gangly manner they could.

 He promptly ran away like a little girl.

 It was at this point he realized his life had gone on too long, and it would never end until he was dead (he was a real deep thinker when he wanted to be).

 So he recycled himself. Nobody wanted crappy old flip phones anymore anyway.

Epilogue: 

 He was recycled into a new awesome phone that everyone loved, and was accepted into a family with children and babies and kitties. And they had a warm fuzzy christmas and people appreciated his ring tones.

THE END