The Three Stooges of the Self

A commentary on how the different parts of the self affect a college student's day.

AN: I wrote this back in 2010 for a creative writing course. It's a philosophical commentary and I hope you all get a kick out of it!

“Beep! Beep! Beep!”

The three members in bed slowly stirred at the annoying chirps of the alarm clock. While they all departed to bed last night and slumbered together, all three of them faced the challenge of waking up differently.

“It’s 7:00,” Psyche announced hastily, transitioning from a provocative dream to consciousness quite abruptly. “Time to get up.”

Corpus groaned in opposition to Psyche’s command and slammed his hand on the snooze button. His eyes only opened for a second before they slowly shut themselves again and his momentary spark of life drifted shakily back into slumber again.

“We’ll be late again if you hit that snooze button,” Psyche warned frantically, although his words seemed soft and faded to Corpus’ heavy lull of grogginess.

“Sllllleeeeeepp,” Corpus droned, rolling over and doing his best to shut out Psyche’s criticizing so he could pass out again.

Psyche turned to Ghost and began prodding him and nagging him with the time.

“Good dream…” Ghost sighed, rolling over and nuzzling the pillow, trying to ignore Psyche. “Five more minutes won’t hurt.”

As much as Psyche rattled and reminded his two sleepy friends of school and their record of being late, he found himself grow weary too of bothering to challenge the two anymore; democracy won. Besides, Psyche agreed, it was an interesting dream...

Psyche sighed and drifted off once more, with the interest of seeing to finish the dream.

Corpus moderated the snooze button for Psyche and Ghost, although each time the “beep” sounded it beckoned Psyche’s protests once more of being late which were still drowned out by sweet slumber and salient dreams. Some time later, the beeps sounded again and Corpus’ eyelids peeled open and squinted by a brilliant beam of morning sunlight that shined down upon the three.

“The sun is shining! Oh what a beautiful day this will be!” Ghost chimed as Corpus groaned and groggily regained the feeling in his right arm that he slept upon.

“What time is it?” Psyche pondered.

Corpus and Ghost were quickly set into immediate alarm at the notion of having lost track of how many times the snooze button was pushed, and Corpus immediately sat upright and turned with lightning speed to see what time it was.

“7:45 A.M.” The digital alarm clock read.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Ghost swore frantically in absolute terror, knowing that class was to start in fifteen minutes.

Corpus jumped out of bed with Ghost and Psyche and sprinted out of the bedroom, moving with great haste into the bathroom with Ghost kicking and swearing at him to move faster while Psyche nagged Ghost saying “I told you so” and calculating how late they’d be for class.

Ghost’s relentless swearing and terror settled to being less vulgar once they were in the shower. Corpus shivered at first before adjusting the temperature of the water to a perfect, lulling warmth and let out a long sigh of relaxation and refreshment of feeling clean once more while Ghost burst out in song in respite of feeling awaken and refreshed. While Psyche would have normally began daydreaming in the shower and let Corpus and Ghost take their time, he knew time was desperate and poked both of them continuously to hurry up.

Corpus jumped out of the shower and posed manly for Psyche and Ghost in front of the fogged-up mirror. While Ghost cheered at Corpus’ good shape, “Lookin Good!”, Psyche continually reminded and prodded the two that they were running late and needed no shenanigans that morning. After toweling and getting dressed, they all returned to the bedroom and checked the alarm clock once more. Ghost sunk in terror seeing they had five minutes to get to school when it was at least a twenty-five minute drive.

“We gotta go now!” Ghost said frantically. “Where are the keys?”

“Tie your shoe first. You‘re going to trip and look like an idiot,” Psyche instructed Corpus, who dumbly looked down at his untied shoelaces.

“It’ll be fine! We got to go! Now! Out the door! Now!” Ghost yelled.

“Wait,” Corpus interrupted, feeling his insides tremor and churn. “Food first.”

“We don’t have time! We’re already late!” Ghost argued, terror spurting out his words faster than ever.

“Foooooooood!” Corpus moaned, gripping his stomach.

“Going to be late!” Ghost shrieked.

“Food might help concentration on class and keep us awake,” Psyche argued.

Ghost sighed in defeat and made a compromise for Corpus to grab a poptart to eat on the ride to school. It was by no means a peaceful drive. While Corpus did his best to stuff his face with food and drive at the same time, Ghost and Psyche constantly argued, bickered, and did some back-seat driving.

“The speed limit is 40,” Psyche noted, condescendingly.

“It’s not when people are running late!” Ghost argued.

“Will that be our excuse when a cop pulls us over?” Psyche asked.

Ghost ignored the remark, still telling Corpus to keep up the speed, fretting with each passing minute of being late for class. Psyche sighed watching the speedometer go up and seeing Corpus alternate from driving with one hand to none as he tried to quickly down his second poptart.

“This can’t be safe,” Psyche thought aloud. “If he chokes, we all die.”

“We’re not going to die. Have some faith,” Ghost replied nonchalantly.

“Speaking of death…” Psyche began.

“Wow! Wasn't that a messed up dream?!” Ghost chimed in awe and excitement, finishing Psyche’s thought.

The rest of the ride there did Ghost and Psyche debate the significance of the dream that they had. It was no more bizarre than any other one, but involved sharing a kiss with a college crush--her name was Kristen-- that the three of them had and ended up with being shot. The details were very obscure and the two debated them constantly while Corpus rolled down the window and drove a little bit faster, ignoring them and enjoying the rushing feeling of wind over his face and through his hair.

The three of them arrived to class about fifteen minutes late. Corpus marched in lazily while Ghost shuddered feeling the Professor’s eyes, as well as his fellow classmates, leer at them and their tardiness. Corpus plopped down in his seat lazily, feeling ready to doze off again, but quickly straightened out as Psyche and Ghost both slapped him upside the head.

The class droned on for only ten minutes and the three began bickering again.

“Soooooo tired…” Corpus whined in a low voice, rubbing the bags underneath his eyes and wanting to put his head down and drift off to the lulling sound of the Professor’s voice.

The second his eyes snapped shut Psyche slapped him upside the head and he straightened up once more.

“Pay attention. Do you want to fail the next exam again?” Psyche warned.

“Five minutes,” Corpus begged. “Just five minutes of closing my eyes, that’s all.”

“No!” Ghost and Psyche said in unison, breaking Corpus’ nodding off into attentiveness once more.

“I think drawing might help,” Ghost suggested.

“With the next exam? I don’t think so,” Psyche replied.

“No. In staying awake,” Ghost replied.

“Do you want to fail this class?”

“The Professor will fail us only if he catches us falling asleep again in his class!” Ghost argued. “Besides, this class is boring!”

“No it’s not,” Psyche protested.

“Yes it is!” Ghost retorted, almost childishly.

“Boooooriiiing!” Corpus chimed in.

Psyche sighed. “Fine,” submitting to the two.

The remainder of the class period, Ghost instructed Corpus what to draw, which had proven successful in keeping him awake, all the while being did Psyche do his best to pay attention to the Professor’s lecture, but was far too distracted by the obscene images that Corpus and Ghost were drawing and giggling about to have gathered anything useful.

After class, the three walked down to the cafeteria by the will of Corpus whose stomach began rumbling once more. Psyche reminded Corpus to tie his shoe again but Corpus ignored the suggestion and groaned in hunger.

“Do you ever think about anything except food?” Psyche asked Corpus.

“You should know,” Ghost quipped.

“Sex, food, and sleep,” Corpus reaffirmed proudly as if it were some political banner that he stood by.

They entered the cafeteria and Corpus started drooling over the choices that lay before the three of them.

“Let’s keep it cheap,” Psyche suggested, recalling the miniscule amount of money that the three of them had. “We still need to buy gas, remember?”

“Mmmmmm,” Corpus moaned with an appetite as his eyes laid upon a fresh, steaming slice of pizza. “Pizza…”

“All those fats and greases,” Ghost said with disgust. “That can’t be good for you. You can’t live on that!”

“We have had Pizza twice in a row already,” Psyche agreed. “Maybe another day.”

“Pizza…now?” Corpus asked, pleading pathetically.

“No, not today,” Psyche reaffirmed.

“Pizza now!” Corpus begged, almost like a desperate child.

“Think about your image!” Ghost snapped. “You want to get fat? Ruin your complexion?”

“Pizza now!” Corpus’ begs were relentless.

“We need to save our money!” Psyche argued.

“Think about your looks! We need a girlfriend!” Ghost reminded.

“NOOOOOOOW!”

The two sighed, groaned and gave into the tyrant, seeing no end to his gripes, groans and protests unless he had something tasty and filling go into his stomach. While Corpus downed the slice of pizza, sloshed down with an energy drink, Psyche calculated how much gas they could get with $8.75 while Ghost fretted of Corpus packing extra pounds over his muscles or breaking out.

The rest of the day proved to be normal as usual, with the three continuing their disagreements and disputes such as whether or not to leave school early, whether or not to spend the rest of their money on snacks, and where they should go or what they should do after they departed campus. Psyche managed to pull through to keep Corpus or Ghost from spending any left of their minimal budget and convinced the three of them to head to the local convenient store/gas station on what little gas and fumes they had left.

Upon entering, Corpus more than on one occasion begged and asked for usage to the credit card in order to buy a liter of soda, a bag of chips, and other junk food, yet Psyche and Ghost were able to fend him off from spending any more money on such unnecessary items up until she walked in.

Corpus froze, Psyche gasped, and Ghost shivered as Kristen--their crush, the girl of their dreams--walked through the threshold. Ghost straightened up Corpus’ slouching posture while Psyche reminded Corpus not to drool in her presence.

“Hey Max,” she said, waving politely and smiling at the three of them.

“Hey Kristen.”

“She remembers us!” Ghost squeaked giddily, silently to his comrades.

“I‘d tap that,” Corpus affirmed as she walked past, his eyes never leaving her swinging hips.

“I wonder what kind of music she likes,” Psyche mused, as he noticed her rummaging through various magazines featuring different bands.

She crossed them again, winking at them as she headed over to grab a bag of candy.

“I think I’m in love,” Ghost whimpered hopelessly.

“Pussy,” Corpus grunted.

“Is that all you ever think about?” Ghost asked.

“No, I was calling you a pussy. I just want to get with her.”

“You’re both idiots,” Psyche interjected, “She’s way out of our league.”

“But that dream,” Ghost reminisced. “She was in it!”

“So?”

“It was meant to be,” Ghost replied dreamily.

“Get a hold of yourself!”

“What’s the best way to cop a feel?” Corpus asked Psyche.

“Would you both stop! You’re going to make an idiot out of all of us…or get us arrested for sexual harassment.”

“We got to go talk to her,” Ghost persisted.

“Bad idea,” Psyche argued.

“I want her!”

“Remember the last girl I let you talk us into going after? You want to end up getting hurt again?” Psyche reminded.

“She could be my soul mate!”

“She could be in bed with us!”

“No! No! No!”

It was no use, however, for Psyche’s protests and arguments. As per usual, he lost to democracy once more as Corpus swaggered over to Kristen, who was checking out at the counter while Ghost got in character, trying his best at imitating every suave, cliché charming techniques he’d seen in movies.

“So what brings you here?”

“Oh, just getting some gas, candy and magazines,” she replied, smiling politely back at their awkward smile.

“That’s cool…”

They were at a lack of words

“Quick! Think of something witty or impressive to say!” Ghost begged.

“Not helping,” Psyche refused.

“C’mon! C’mon!” Ghost pleaded, growing incredibly nervous in the awkward silence between them and Kristen.

“You’re going to end up regretting it. I want no part in your conquest.”

“Corpus?” Ghost asked, looking desperately at his only present ally.

Corpus faked a yawn while outstretching his arm and flexing it as conspicuously as possible yet still trying to get Kristen to look at his biceps. Her reaction was a confused glance as she handed the clerk her money.

“That didn’t work!” Ghost cried.

“Should I try going to first base instead?” Corpus suggested.

“NO!” Psyche and Ghost shouted at Corpus in unison.

Suddenly, a man wearing a ski mask and holding a gun barged into the gas station, pointing his firearm at the clerk, Kristen, and the three of them, causing Kristen and Ghost to scream like little girls.

“Put your hands up! All of you!” The masked gunman demanded.

Kristen, the clerk, and Corpus all complied immediately as he made his way to the counter. He shifted the aim periodically between them before looking at the clerk and shoving it in his direction.

“You! All the money! Now!”

The clerk hastily got to work at opening up the till while Kristen and Corpus remained standing still, and shaking.

“Oh God!” Ghost whimpered.

“I think I gotta go to the bathroom,” Corpus mentioned.

“Just remain calm,” Psyche advised.

“He’s got a gun!” Ghost panicked.

“He’s not going to shoot us so long as we don’t do anything stupid,” Psyche reassured.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Ghost swore frantically.

“Speaking of that…” Corpus interjected.

“You!” The masked gunman said pointing the gun at Corpus after collecting the money from the clerk. “Give me your wallet!”

“Ummmm…”

“Oh God! I hate having guns pointed at me!” Ghost cried to himself.

“Give him the wallet, dumbass!” Psyche commanded.

Corpus dug into his pants and offered the gunman his wallet, who snatched it greedily from him. He then moved over to Kristen, pointing the gun at her, and asked the same, but Ghost’s fear of being shot suddenly became overridden with concern for Kristen. She dug through her purse frantically, fumbling around helplessly in shear anxiety and terror with the gun pointed at her head, all the while the three watched and considered the sight.

“Hurry up, bitch!” The gunman shouted.

“He can’t do that to her!” Ghost protested.

“Um, yes he can. He has a gun,” Psyche argued.

“She doesn’t deserve that! You’re supposed to treat a lady with respect!” Ghost proclaimed, a hint of zealous chivalry in his voice.

Psyche considered Ghost’s motive, the resolve in his attitude and sudden courage that he had which was rarely ever present. Psyche became very concerned at that moment.

“Don’t even think about it…” Psyche warned.

“Thinking is your job. We just do. Right?” Ghost asked, turning to Corpus.

“Huh?” Corpus replied dumbly.

“Don’t be a hero…” Psyche warned.

“Think about it! She’ll totally fall for us! She’s a damsel in distress, and we’re her knight in shining armor!”

“No, we’ll all be dead! We‘ll be on the news as a stupid, no-name civilian who tried and failed to stop an armed robber!”

“We’d be martyrs,” Ghost mused.

“I don’t like dying!” Corpus whined.

“Fine! We’ll be heroes then!”

“We have so much to live for!” Psyche protested. “So many things in life we haven’t done! Of all the stupid things you’ve ever proposed we’d do, this has to be it! We’re not going to end up with a monument or some profound news story! We’ll all be gone!”

“Not with our strength,” Ghost argued, turning again to Corpus for approval. “Right?”

Corpus flexed for himself, feeling quite manly and capable. The adrenaline coursing through his veins, empowering himself, accompanied by his own testosterone boosting his ego of strength. He, once again, was behind Ghost.

“He’s got a gun!” Psyche reminded, “You know the odds of you succeeding a hit and surviving?”

“What are the odds that the gun is loaded?” Ghost asked. “Could it be a bluff?”

Psyche pondered the thought in his head for a moment, taking into consideration of the possibility that the gun actually wasn‘t loaded but quickly shook his head, dismissing the absurdity of considering the probability knowing that siding with Ghost and Corpus was a very stupid thing to do. “Don’t make me answer that.”

“We’re going to teach this guy a lesson, and be the heroes, today,” Ghost resolved, ignoring Psyche‘s dismay.

“And after that, we get the girl?” Corpus asked.

“Yes, yes that to.”

“Please, stop and consider this,” Psyche protested one last time.

“CHARGE!” Ghost roared.

Just as Corpus took a step forward and wound up his punch, he shifted and tripped by the misfortune of never having tied his shoelace from the beginning of the day. He staggered and tried to keep his balance but eventually fell backwards after being shot twice in the stomach by the robber, having seen at the attempted assault.

“OOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!” Corpus moaned, clutching his bleeding stomach.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Ghost swore.

“I told you so!”

“Ooooowwwwww,” Corpus wheezed.

“Damn it! I’m sorry, guys. I let us down,” Ghost apologized weakly.

“This is what happens when nobody listens to me,” Psyche said vindictively.

“Ooooww-ch,” Corpus griped.

“Think we can make it?” Ghost asked.

“I’d say its fatal,” Psyche said, considering the location of the bullets through their stomach and hitting a major artery. He turned to Corpus just to make sure. “What do you think?”

“I don’t got to go to the bathroom anymore,” Corpus answered.

Psyche sighed, “Glad to hear it.”

“So we don’t even get to die with dignity? We die with shit in our pants?” Ghost complained, his voice becoming fainter.

“Guess so,” Psyche mused. He paused for a moment, considering all that happened that day. The dream, the shoelace, and their predicament. He laughed to himself, finding some appreciation in it. “Ironic isn’t it?”

“I feel cold…and hurt,” Corpus griped.

“Did we learn anything today?” Psyche asked his comrades.

“At least I get to sleep now,” Corpus groaned weakly, having not heard Psyche as his comrades began drifting away.

“Hey guys! I think I can see a light at the end of a tunnel!” Ghost said, with hopeful rapture.

“Sorry, I don’t believe in that,” Psyche retorted.