Official Alternate Endings For the Great Gatsby

Now, I have extremely close ties to Great Gatsby Author F. Scott Fitzgerald’s estate. Back in the day, we all use to vacation together. Me, Scott, Zelda, the whole gang. We’d call each other “The Brew Crew” as a symbol of our friendship and our favourite activity (crushing mad beers). Unfortunately, Scott died in 1941 and Zelda soon after, bringing an abrupt end to our crew. It was a sad day for America, but most of all me, the person most effected by the events.

Still, I’ve kept in contact with Scott’s dumb family. They’re the worst. Apparently, Scott had many alternate endings for his greatest work, The Great Gatsby, and the Fitzgerald Estate has been itching for a chance to release them to the public. And there’s no better way to do so than releasing them on freefootballscholarships, the only blog in America.

But, before you read, the Fitzgeralds asked me to include a little disclaimer. Apparently some of the endings ended being a little too close to real-life political events. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
So now, for your viewing pleasure, the official alternate endings for the Great Gatsby.

One. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night. I thought about this all, one morning in Dallas, Texas, as I stood on the grassy knoll and decided to make them all pay. Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. I stopped for a second to give a discrete thumbs up to the second gunman on the grassy knoll. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning.

So we beat on, and I fired the rifle twice, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

 

Two. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
I thought back to my last conversation with Gatsby, to the evanescent glee behind his eyes.
“Old Sport,” he had said, “I have an idea.”

“What’s that bro?” I asked lasciviously.

“We take all of our computers, right? And we put them together so they can share information.”

“You crazy for this one, Jay!”

“And you know what I’d call it, Old Sport?” Gatsby asked me with a glimmer.

“What?”

“The Internet.”

This is because Gatsby believed in the green light, the green light of the Internet modem. the orgastic future that year by year becomes more technologically complex. It eluded us then, but that’s no more.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the future.

Three. And as I drove Ted Kennedy’s car off the pier at Chappaquiddick Island, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. I also asked Ted to muffle the woman’s screams coming from the back seat. Gatsby had come a long way to that blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.

“Will this hurt my political career?” asked Ted Kennedy as he began to throw all of our cocaine out of the window so it wouldn’t be found in the wreckage.

“No, you’ll be fine,” I barked back at Ted, “You’re a Kennedy, you can literally get away with murder.”
”Interesting,” yawped Ted Kennedy excitedly, “I might have to test that theory.”

“Now shut up Ted, I’m trying to think!” I yelled as I tied off in preparation for just a little more heroin.

Gatsby did not know that all this already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning ——

So we beat on, boats against the current, car sinking into the channel, borne ceaselessly to the bottom of the lake.

Four. Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter. I gave a discrete thumbs up to Sirhan Sirhan and snuck out of the rally.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Five. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. This is probably why Gatsby spent all those years in Science School, becoming the first man to create a time machine. The Gatsby Time Device had been his life’s work and I was going to be the first to use it.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the on light, the orgastic future-liquidity that year by year becomes more achievable. It eluded us then, but then we found plutonium, and now it pretty much works.

So I beat on, activated the Gatsby Time Device, boat against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s