Stressed Memes Novels & Stories

I taunted him. "Nothing is enough," he huffed. "Should I break your skull or chop off your finger? And then, you can imagine the 'oh ho ho ho' tone in your mind in the background," I jokingly threatened him. (Oh ho ho ho is a song that's widely used as a meme for depicting sad or fucked up situations in India) "What the fuck? I am upset and crying over here and you're imagining about a meme in such a serious situation?" He complained.

I said chuckled " Don't worry man... I am sure of the amount of 'balanced diet' We have to consume. I will be as strong as a buffalo." We laughed " Don't you think they are being too much?" " Well particularly yes, I didn't deserve any of this." Peter glared at me. " Neither did I" I raised my eyebrow at him then he said, " See I know I shouldn't have skipped the meals but I was seriously stressed. They are being so annoying like they are ganging up on us... Don't you think so?" " Well, yes... They are being EXTRA." We sighed at the same time then laughed

He didn’t sigh when she arrived three minutes late to a pitch. He smirked — smirked! — when she called him “Spreadsheet Daddy” under her breath. And then, on Friday, the impossible happened. He laughed. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. A real, low, quiet chuckle. All because she’d Photoshopped his face onto a Renaissance painting for a meme she titled: "Sebastian Mason, Patron Saint of Budget Cuts." It was in the middle of a staff email chain titled “Friday Madness.” She hadn’t expected him to see it.

“Your eyes look like you haven’t slept in two days, but you’re bouncing off the walls. What is going on with you?” “Nothing is going on. I’m just busy. Work is really stressful right now,” I tried to say. It was a dumb excuse. My job was boring, not stressful. Mia just shook her head. “No. You don't get this energized from being stressed. When you’re stressed, you eat all the ice cream and watch documentaries about unsolved murders. Right now, you look like you’re trying to keep a huge balloon from floating away.” She walked closer. She moved the napkin and saw my phone. She didn’t pick it up, but she knew.

WHAT'S 'ASSHAT' AND 'NOE' AND 'ZOE? I_pooped HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I_love_my_mommy TRUST ME, WILL, YOU DON'T WANNA KNOW. I_pooped YES, OR YOUR PRINCELY BRAIN MIGHT EXPLODE. Cereal_killer TEA. Yes_you_suck FR FR. I_pooped EW, SHUT UP, GUYS. STOP RUINING TEA. Will_the_devil WHERE THE HECK DID 'TEA' COME FROM?

My skin crawled in desperation for him. The first week I started sending him memes during the day, but he didn’t really understand them, much like the emojis, and it took him a moment to pick up. I had a feeling his office may have been a little too stuffy, and memes weren’t a part of his everyday life like they were with mine. Jenna sent me a dozen a day. Baby Yoda memes were his favorite, and mine as well. His office, his life, had been too stuffy, and I was happy to be breathing life into him.

And now, the internet was having a fucking field day. Noah stopped pacing, long enough to grab his phone again, thumbs flying over the screen as he scanned the endless floods of comments on his innagram. I sucked my teeth, irritation clawing up my throat. “You need to stop reading that shit.” He snapped his gaze to me at that, and I’ve never seen such pure anger in his gaze. “Do you know what they are calling me? Have you seen the fucking memes they’ve started to make about me? I’ve spent my entire life--?”

Someone had even turned Dexter's frosting-covered face into memes. She soon received one from Clara. In the meme, only half of Dexter's handsome face was not covered in frosting. The text beside it read, "Dead inside." For the next three or four days, everyone around Angela couldn't send her a text without adding a few of those memes. Zack was the worst of all. He sent her dozens every day—half of them were ones he had made himself in his office when he had nothing better to do. Wasn't this a little over the top?

I am such a couch potato. I’m laying on the orange and brown floral couch my grandmother has always had. A whole box of saltines and a galleon water bottle within reach and the remote at the ready. My training program doesn’t start for a couple weeks, so I am soaking up every moment of responsibility free time that I can. The phone resting on my stomach chimes. I pick it up and see Jareth has reacted to the meme of a baby goat screaming. Then after moment he sends me a meme of a baby pig eat ice cream.

[What kind of trash bag are you, holding so much garbage?] [Peacocks flaunt their tails to attract mates. What's your excuse for parading your ass online?] [Patricia Harris, why don't you just die?] [Slut, you're probably wild in private, right? That video's gone viral.] [Heard you're diseased. Stay home! Don't infect us!] I stared at my phone screen, the barrage of insults washing over me. Doctored memorial photos and grotesque AI-generated images assaulted my eyes.