Thank you @diebitch for nominating me for a comedy open mic entry. But first I must warn you that I'm lazy and not funny. So here is my story, a true story.
This is a story about Jack. We don't know if Jack was his real name. We called him Jack because he called everyone as Jack. He didn't bother to ask my name. Never.
"Jack, where are you going?" He asked me.
"I'm going to Badminton, Jack. This is Wednesday!" I answered.
"Nice!" He gave his thumbs up and offered a big weird smile. His teeth were yellowish and messy.
I remember the first day I met Jack. I was sitting near a Starling (an abbreviation for Starbucks Keliling---literal meaning: Wandering Starbucks---because they are selling coffee by bicycle). Suddenly this dude stood beside me. With a messy hair and smelly odor.
"Hey, Jack, may I have your cigarette?" He asked.
I was like, wtf?! Who is this messed up dude? I was still amazed by that weird straightforward guy. "Hey, Jack, may I have your cigarette?" He asked another guy standing in front of him.
I remember clearly, no one gave him a cigarette.
Same things started to happen on daily basis. Jack will stand there near the starling's basecamp, he will ask for a smoke to every Jack he met. And the existence of Jack started to seem rational.
I started to call all my friends with 'Jack' too. And so did my friends. We've been Jacked by Jack. We don't want to Jack off. We are Jack!
You can say that our mind was being hijacked by Jack. But who cares. We were happy being a Jack.
Nothing last forever. And so did Jack. One day he was gone. Just like that. I never see him again. Nor that I want to see him again.
I was too lazy to write this story. Now I'm tired. I thank you, Jack, for keep reading this meaningless post until the very end.
Gosh. I need smoke. Do you have any? May I have your cigarette, Jack?