Writer's Craft Prompt: Torture

Hi everyone! I just wanted to share a quick thing I wrote in like ten minutes for my wrtier's craft class. We get daily prompts in that class and I thought this one was particularly interesting. 

Prompt: Write a humorous take on Article #5 from the UN Declaration of Human Rights, “freedom from torture and degrading treatment”.

You have the right to freedom from weaboos and the ways of weaboory. No weaboo may thrust their strange anime fanart pictures in your face when you’re just trying to mind your own business. Nor may they stick earbuds in your ears with full-volume intro songs when you’re trying to do your homework. They absolutely may not, under any circumstance, force you to read their shipping fanfictions. Any weeb who fails to control their urges to the point of endangering the normal, sane human beings around them must answer in international court for their gross disregard of human rights.

I recited these words to myself over and over again and took in a deep breath. “Alright,” I told myself, “no matter what happens, I can rest assured that it won’t be terrible. Weabs can be vicious as they are usually all rabid fangirls who foam at the mouth when they see their favourite voice actors, but that doesn’t mean they’ll attack me unless I do something really stupid.” I reasoned that walking through the anime fan convention would be perfectly safe as I’m sure the weabs there would be relatively tame and law-abiding. As long as I didn’t shout out “SASUKE SUCKS AND SO DOES HIS VOICE ACTOR” at the top of my lungs, none of them would come at me. I took in a few deep breaths and tried to compose myself. My phone interrupted my zen state of mind and made me start panicking again.

“Are you there yet?” my friend Vicky asked. She was the one who was subjecting me to the punishment of walking through the fan convention.

“Yup. I’m at the gates. Bought my ticket. I’m just about to go in,” I said.

“Good. That’s what you get for losing the bet. Make sure to film all of it.” She hung up.

I sighed. The ticket collector was wearing a Sailor Moon cosplay outfit. She looked at me funny before letting me pass. I became painfully aware of how I was the only person there dressed normally. Everyone else was dressed up like their favourite characters. It made me stand out and look like an idiot when they were the real idiots.

I passed by a long line up of fans who were squealing and waiting for an autograph from their favourite voice actor. Artists hung out at the vendor booths, selling overpriced merchandise and fanart. Damn those artists. They deserved to starve for not having a real job, yet here they were travelling from convention to convention making an obscene amount of income.

A teenage boy in a ridiculous long, white wig approached me. His girlfriend was with him. “Hey, do you mind taking a picture of us?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. What could I do?

They made some dumb poses and then thanked me.

“What are you guys supposed to be anyway?” I asked them, looking at their strange attire. The question was a grave mistake.

“You’re kidding, right? We’re Inuyasha and Kagome.”

“Oh… right… I have a friend who made me watch a few episodes of that anime,” I remembered, thinking of Vicky and how much I was starting to resent her.

“Anime? Wow, how uncultured. You should read the manga.”

My jaw dropped in shock and indignation at being called uncultured as the couple walked away, laughing at me.

I decided that a new clause needed to be added to the UN declaration of human rights, or else I’d become the next Hitler trying to purge the world of these subhumans:

A weeb may not subject you to the cruel and inhuman punishment of suffering the drudgery of an anime fan convention.