Jim: The tale of one man's hunger

[wooletang]

This is the tale of Jim, and his quest to satisfy hunger. Comments are appreciated.

There is a gnawing sensation at the pit of Jim’s stomach. It feels as though acid is eating through the lining of his gut in an attempt to grow legs and find food. He feels faint. There is a light breeze wafting through the room, and it’s pulling at the condensation on his forehead, causing chills to run up and down his spine. He’s got the shakes, the tremblies, the jitters. If food does not enter his face soon, he’s going to collapse into a jiggling ball of pain, and curl up into a ball next to the couch.
In a desperate attempt to curtail the agony, he trots over to the fridge and pulls it open. It’s empty. So are the cupboards, the washing machine, the dryer, the furnace and his neighbor’s fridge. His neighbor isn’t too pleased to see Jim poking about in his fridge at two AM, so he and Mr. Shotgun kindly ask Jim to leave.
Jim obliges, but he’s still hungry, so he marches down the stairwell outside his apartment, across the parking lot and into the middle of the street, where he promptly gets hit by a car, goes to the hospital, and gets a packet of pudding for his trouble. The owner of the car would press charges, but he’s hungry too, and he doesn't have time to fool around with the poor sod who just wanted something to fill his belly.
After a week or so of recuperation in the hospital, Jim leaves. He’s been well fed for the last few days, and is ready to go back out into the world and take it by storm. So he climb to the top of a twenty story building and leaps off, spreading his brain matter all over the concrete and a little old lady called Beatrice.
Beatrice goes into a shock-induced heart attack and is rushed to the hospital, where she is revived and subsequently fed very well until her body mends. She goes back to living with her son at his flat, which, coincidentally, was directly across the way from the apartment of our dear deceased Jim.
Jim’s mother came into town for the funeral, which was closed casket for some odd reason. She went by her son’s apartment to collect his belongings and pay the final rent. She got into a terrible car accident on the way there, and was killed on impact. The driver of the car that hit her was the same man who Jim had walked out in front of in order to get a meal. He too was killed on impact. The lesson to be learned is “Slow down, and wear a seat belt.”
The man who died in the accident also happened to be the lover of the man who lived in the flat across the way from Jim’s apartment. Driven to madness by grief, the man in the flat across from Jim’s apartment made a pact with Mr. Shotgun. Mr. Shotgun promised to kill both dear little Beatrice and the man in the flat’s life that very night. He was as good as his word.
Police Chief Hancock, who was in charge of the homicide department, came in to survey the scene. She determined cause of death to be greed. Her reason? The man in the flat across the way from Jim’s apartment had a full fridge, and he never shared any of it with his starving neighbor. Had he done so, he’d still be alive, along with Beatrice, Jim, Jim’s mother, and his own lover.
The moral of the story, she said, was that shit happens, and you should always be nice to the bird outside your window, because if you don’t hear it any more, it might be because it killed you for want of suet.