A week ago in the mail I received two letters: a curiously thick yellow envelope from my friend, and a letter informing me that he was recently deceased
It's made me very bitter, for my friend was truly a wonderful toast and fellow writer, but he has sent me his autobiography, very aware of his circumstances, in hope I might publish it and let the world know of his greatness.
I will share it here in segments, in hope that a fellow Toasty will be remembered.
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Part One
It is with great haste I write to you, dear friend, and I hope you will excuse my quickly, poorly thought out analogies. One does not usually rush an autobiography, I am aware, and you are probably wondering at the strange manner of this letter, et cetera. The reason I am more hurried than a barrel of monkeys is this: I am being chased, accosted by a group of humans. Now, I know you are horrified, but you mustn’t let that distract you from the contents of this envelope. It’s very important that you pay close attention to it in its entirety, for if I am to be caught by these humans I would like my life story to be documented.
In it you will learn of my present situation, and just how I came to be in it.
Thanks for everything, BitterToast; you’ve been smashing.
It begins with the story of my parents, I suppose, but I don’t really know much about their histories, to be perfectly honest. The fact of the matter is I didn’t know my parents very well; my siblings and I grew up living with my grandparents, who taught me to enjoy literature and stick to the classics. My parents were too busy working so that they might have successful futures (futures in which they might have the opportunity to work even harder, and perhaps not really enjoy their success). BlandToast was the eldest, and we were never close—then there was BittyToast, the youngest, and she and I never got along in our childhood, I must admit. I was BlandToast’s charge and he looked down on all I did. I was BittyToast’s role model and she looked up to all I did, though we argued constantly. Therefore, I was happiest when in the company of my brother BrightToast. I was only one year his senior, and we got along smashingly.
BrightToast was a very intelligent young fellow, far above average. My parents favored him, saying he was a prodigy; my grandparents treated us all equally well. I never resented him. He only made me strive for academic success harder and longer.
When I was old enough, I was sent to the Toasty Academy, and BrightToast went with me. We were overjoyed, for our grandparents had made us appreciate learning, and the Academy felt like a special place. It was smashing, so smashing. It was there I remained for years, and it was like a second home to me. But my existence there was most unusual, for I lived upon a tower of lies.
As far as any of my fellow Toasties I knew, my parents were very rich and successful entrepreneurs. (True.) They could have bought me anything I wanted. (True.) And they did, every Christmas. (False.) They lived in a big, luxurious mansion. (True.) I resided in the largest bedroom. (False.) BrightToast was my only sibling—well, Bitter, you know that’s false. How I regretted the lie the following year.
It was then that there was an attack on a Toasty colony. You weren’t around then, of course, Bitter; you’re far too young. Bland, Bitty and our grandparents did not survive. Bright and I were left orphans. Because of Bright’s continual academic achievement, he was allowed a place to stay at the Academy. But my grades had slipped in my distraction and sadness, and I was sent to an orphanage in a remote Toasty colony. Tragedy after tragedy—you’ll know about that, Bitter, you think it happens to you every day. No offence intended.
Thus, I was sent the State Toaster. It seemed for a while there was nothing smashing in my world. And then I enrolled in the Toaster’s Shakespeare class...
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Part Two
Part Two
The Shakespeare class was perhaps the best thing that had happened to me since the invasion of the Toast colony. I was happily occupied much of the time, pouring myself into those delightful works. Though I missed my brother Bright (with whom I corresponded through daily letters), without him in the limelight, I realised I was quite talented academically, myself. Not a genius like he was, not a “prodigy,” but I was in fact very intelligent. My teachers looked on me favorably and never complained that I “wasn’t as brilliant” as my brother.
My gift for reading Shakespeare earned me respect amongst my peers, and eventually I was appointed to the role of tutor. I’d never had to teach anyone anything before, except perhaps helping Bitty with simple math. This was a surprisingly enjoyable experience for me, as well. I told my brother all about it, and he was very happy for me. Likewise, I applauded his smashingly extraordinary achievements—he was entering college at the age of twelve.
When I was fifteen years old age, three years after arriving at the Toaster, I received some shocking news. I was told someone named BenevolentToast had come to see me. He looked very disheveled and distressed when I met him.
‘I was told you wanted to talk to me, sir?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ he answered, looking surprised at my very appearance, as though he hadn’t called for me. He listed some names, then asked if the first one belonged to me—I answered in the affirmative—if the second and third belonged to my parents—I answered in the affirmative again, hesitating a little. Then he asked if my parents were ‘doing quite well.’
What he expected to hear, I could not imagine. Why was I in a State Toaster, if my parents were ‘quite well’?
‘No, sir,’ I said.
‘Don’t call me sir, it’s odd.’ He hesitated. ‘Where are they?’
I stared at him. ‘They died three years ago, sir.’
‘Oh! That’s horrible to hear.’ He collapsed into an armchair. ‘Terrible. Terribly unfortunate.’
‘I…I suppose so, sir.’ I knew this wasn’t a proper response as soon as I said it, but the stranger known as Benevolent didn’t seem to notice.
It was then that I learned the whole strange story: and how, exactly, my parents had come upon their fortunes.
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I apologise for the typographical errors, I am trying to type this up quickly!
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It is because I'm a Toast and my friend was too
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I recently heard news of Butter's unfortunate demise spreading around my part of the commune and decided that I would write a eulogy in honor of such a great toast.
So without much inspiration I have written my story of how I came to know him and what he means to me.
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I was born in 1970 and had grown up under harsh conditions. While not to stray off the topic of the departed ButterToast, smashing accomplice that he was, I find my own part of this tale rather heartwarming as well. Now, as I was saying, I was in very harsh conditions growing up. My family rode the line of poverty carefully, barely scraping up enough to survive and often in unemployment. Times were miserable for me until I grew up. That's when the hard-working life I was accustomed to paid off. I rode my way to the top of the economic chain and could afford me and my parent the good life.
Now after about 5 years of some hard-work at the top as well as some fun-times to go along, I had started to be included in some exclusive investment opportunities. Now, when I heard there was a time machine in the funding, I jumped on the offer. Everyone else with enough wealth to invest supposed that such a smashing endeavor could only be impossible! A toast! Travel in time! It was absolutely preposterous to most and perhaps blasphemous to a few. But I was a believe in the idea, and entered 1 billion dollars to the cause.
It definitely took a while to come about and I was very impatient during the process, However, 7 long years later I had gotten it. I, due to my significant financial donation, would be the FIRST to travel in time! Experimentally, though, which meant that I would have no idea where I may end up. This didn't particularly bother me as I had grown up being a survivor at heart and knew I could tough it out in almost any conditions.
As it so happens, I was lucky. I landed in 1936, a calm and relaxing time amongst the toast commune. Now, I was indefinitely stuck here, for the machine traveled with me but would need quite a bit of warming up to use properly. The one they managed to make safe on the experimental product was going back to where you came from. Bored with living a simple life in a small house I had bought for temporary purposes (and intended to resell before leaving), I decided I could afford to be a bit more fraudulent. I'm rich, I'm time travelling, let's make someone's LIFE! Assuming the way I time was true, that the Universe works everything out and any action I do now has already had it's effect on life in the future, I went looking for potential candidates to inherit a bit of money.
Many in the then small community were instantly discounted. Either idiotic or uneducated, money for them would be no good. Quite a bit of searching through names ensued but eventually I found those who I trusted to use the money wisely. The sweet BriskToast and her husband BrittleToast were newlyweds dedicating the rest of their life to scientific researches. Inspired by their dreams, and in admiration of science for the time machine, I gave them a sweet million to invest and save with.
I went back to my own home in the times I was used to eventually, and lived a now even more publicized life as the first successful time traveler, billionaire, and science lover extraordinaire. Sometimes I found myself wanting to get away from it all, but I knew I was blessed and wouldn't trade anything for it. However, I always did wonder what came of the couple I had given money to, as I never told people from my time what I did so this caused them to be entirely boring citizens of the community with a bit more money than normal. I eventually decided to have the refined time machine that people had been working on which could allow you to choose your destination to see them in the future.
I went back to around the time I was born, 30-more-or-less years later, and rang on their bell where an enthusiastic young teenager greeted me. After inquiring where the smashing Brisk and Brittle were I was answered with a small pause then had the situation of their death explained to me. I was saddened but spilled the story of my adventures to the young boy, who swore to secrecy until the true event happened. This boy was the ButterToast who has now met his sad end here in 2012 (a part of my linear timeline, and therefore carrying great weight).
Reassured by my confession, me and the boy became good friends and I would meet him in the future when I returned. We became very close and I led and mentored him through his life. I don't want to bore you with the details, and I don't believe the immense respect and friendship I had for the boy can be described easily. To me he was youth, and adventure, and one of the only friends I could truly count on. I'm finding myself crying as I finish this sentence, and believe I must end the story somewhat short, though the what this toast truly meant to me is almost unexplainable.
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Wait a second, who's this other user? And I'm sorry if this sounds insulting, but did you really have a friend who died, or is this just a story? Because I read something about one of you being born in 1970 and due to this I don't see why you would come to Scratch to write about it. And of course, there's the ongoing charade where you pretend you're pieces of toast. And Benevolent only has two posts. ._. So this all seems very curious to me.
Last edited by Cozyhut3 (2012-08-21 20:37:12)
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Part Three
BenevolentToast was discontented as a young Toast. He was very interested in science, and found it the most smashing thing in the world, but hadn’t the means to do what he loved best. Thus, he worked hard, and became very rich. He didn’t go into incredible details describing this part to me, I suspected for the sake of anonymity.
Being incredibly rich, almost obscenely so, Mr. BenevolentToast had joined a project. A time machine was in the works. He was one of the only ones on the planet who could have afforded to risk the loss of so much money; he was also perhaps one of the most gifted scientists of the age (being an excitable teenager, I kept asking what age he was from, exactly—what point in time? The year 1790? 6023?). With this lucky combination, a time machine was finally created, and it was smashing to say the least. It was experimental at the moment, he told me, but still probably the greatest scientific achievement of all time.
His story twisted and turned and backtracked very confusingly, but this much became evident after some time. Before Bland was born, my parents were actually quite poor. They were worried that they wouldn’t be able to support a family properly. My father was unemployed, and my mother’s job didn’t bring in a very good income. They were desperate.
This was where BenevolentToast ended up on the first try using the time machine. The friends he made in the past—or the future, he would never say which—were BriskToast and BrittleToast. My parents.
He took a liking to them, and though he wasn’t sure whether interfering with time, he loaned them quite a lot of money in order to get started. Then they were happy and wealthy—‘weren’t they?’ he asked me anxiously, interrupting himself. ‘They were successful, weren’t they? I’d hate myself if I set them up for an awful disappointment.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said sullenly. At this point in the story I resented Benevolent, I must say. Maybe if he hadn’t helped my parents, my life would not have ended up like this. Perhaps we would be poor, but my parents would have had time for Bland, Bright, Bitty and I. And maybe we would have lived somewhere else when the Toasty colony raid occurred.
‘Did it go well?’
‘They were certainly successful, sir.’
‘Smashing.’ He smiled for the first time. ‘Listen, I’m sorry this had to happen, but how was I to know—?’
‘I know. You didn’t.’ Suddenly I felt rather tired. Had he just come to tell me the story? I appreciated it, but all the same, I might have been more lighthearted if I hadn’t known. Those were the days I didn’t yet hate the saying “Ignorance is bliss.”
‘I just came to see how they were doing,’ he said, ‘and in trying to find them, I found you.’
‘Me? Bright,’ I said, ‘is famous. How did you find me first?’
‘Well, I found out about your brother first, but he gets enough attention already, doesn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ I admitted.
Somehow, I found it very believable that this gentleman had arrived in a time machine. He seemed so odd.
‘Can I come with you?’ I wanted to know. Despite myself, I wanted to see the future. Had I seen then the predicament I am in today, I would likely be horrified. So it was for the better that Benevolent refused. He was a kind Toast, but he didn’t want to make any more changes in time, not when he saw the ill effects that had resulted in Bright and I orphaned. He told me he would visit again sometime, and with a tip of the hat he was gone.
That was the last I saw of BenevolentToast for a while.
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Cozyhut3 wrote:
Wait a second, who's this other user? And I'm sorry if this sounds insulting, but did you really have a friend who died, or is this just a story? Because I read something about one of you being born in 1970 and due to this I don't see why you would come to Scratch to write about it. And of course, there's the ongoing charade where you pretend you're pieces of toast. And Benevolent only has two posts. ._. So this all seems very curious to me.
I do believe these rather articulate chaps are characters made by some fellow out there. I am perhaps mistaken, but I feel as if this is all a story that this toasty character is conjuring up, not in fact an autobiography of a deceased friend (who strangely has a similar username, types in a similar manner, and has low posts, just like our buttered bloke who is posting. Curiously, both users might go well with marmalade.)
If I have in fact mistook, I apologize for I did not mean to come across as rude, or, ahem, bitter. I simply find it rather improbable that three breakfast breads decided to have a jolly good time on the Scratch forums, posting in a rather eloquent fashion about various going-ons and ramblings, to soon have one move on to the jolly old toaster in the sky where all good breads go, while the others grieve and mourn by posting the life story of this particular toast.
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Buttertoast? Gone? Why this is the most un-bashing day of my life
I can't even bring myself to end with, "Haha!"
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I am a bit dubious about the moving of a topic entitled 'My friend's /autobiography/' to 'Things / am Making and Creating'
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Butter died? I
I'm sorry
I loved his presence on these forums, and I'm sure the loss is harder for you, knowing him personally. He was a jovial soul, and always cheered me up. I can only be glad his fascinating life is recorded on these forums
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That is a rather unfortunate occurrence. It grieves me Bitterly.
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sonatina wrote:
omg is the toast thing continuing again where was i in all this
You're on!
I was going to show you the real paper at school, but like
go to stupid school assignments and excellent answers under reading and playing
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Wickimen wrote:
sonatina wrote:
omg is the toast thing continuing again where was i in all this
You're on!
I was going to show you the real paper at school, but like
go to stupid school assignments and excellent answers under reading and playing
oh i saw it!
haha it was cool. your brother is a real genius.
yeah i'd participate in the toast thing except i have no idea what's going on and i'm too lazy to read the entire thread and i'm also too lazy to log into that account.
actually i only came on here because.
actually.
what possessed me to.
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sonatina wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
sonatina wrote:
omg is the toast thing continuing again where was i in all this
You're on!
I was going to show you the real paper at school, but like
go to stupid school assignments and excellent answers under reading and playingoh i saw it!
haha it was cool. your brother is a real genius.
yeah i'd participate in the toast thing except i have no idea what's going on and i'm too lazy to read the entire thread and i'm also too lazy to log into that account.
actually i only came on here because.
actually.
what possessed me to.
No man
You didn't actually find it funny
I can tell
YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIE!
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Wickimen wrote:
sonatina wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
You're on!
I was going to show you the real paper at school, but like
go to stupid school assignments and excellent answers under reading and playingoh i saw it!
haha it was cool. your brother is a real genius.
yeah i'd participate in the toast thing except i have no idea what's going on and i'm too lazy to read the entire thread and i'm also too lazy to log into that account.
actually i only came on here because.
actually.
what possessed me to.No man
You didn't actually find it funny
I can tell
YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIE!
okay i
fine
it's like when you laugh at a joke and you secretly have no idea what's going on
i'm sorry sobs
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Interesting! But you are typing awkwardly.
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Yes
BitterToast wrote:
I apologise for the typographical errors, I am trying to type this up quickly!
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Cozyhut3 wrote:
And I'm sorry if this sounds insulting, but did you really have a friend who died, or is this just a story?
Yes, dear Butter has died. He was the one who introduced me to Scratch.
Cozyhut3 wrote:
And Benevolent only has two posts.
He hasn't been able to be on often, due to... Family problems....
And one other thing- Bitter, do you know this fellow, WrongToast? He seems to be an imposter!
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Yes, I know WrongToast and I can understand why you might believe him an impostor
(We don't talk about it)
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BeautifulToast wrote:
Cozyhut3 wrote:
And I'm sorry if this sounds insulting, but did you really have a friend who died, or is this just a story?
Yes, dear Butter has died. He was the one who introduced me to Scratch.
Cozyhut3 wrote:
And Benevolent only has two posts.
He hasn't been able to be on often, due to... Family problems....
And one other thing- Bitter, do you know this fellow, WrongToast? He seems to be an imposter!
What! Why would you ever think that! Of course im not an imposter! How un-bashing of you to assume that! Why it's so silly it's funny! Yeah! Haha! Ha!
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Interesting post Bitter.
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