Hardcore Hershel

HARDCORE HERSHEL

Get off my lawn or I’ll bury your keister

Explode your noggin like the eggs of Easter

One shell from my shotgun is all it takes

Go and get a job, you millennial snake!

SOFTCORE SEBASTIAN

Calm your ass down, Mr. Hardcore Hershel

You’re sounding like an NRA commercial

I’m just walking along and enjoying the view

Stop being afraid of everything that’s new

HARDCORE HERSHEL

This gun’s been in my family since a million BC

I’ll be damned if it’s taken away by Washington DC

I’ll be damned if you come here looking for a handout

Original Go Fund Me was being a working class standout

SOFTCORE SEBASTIAN

Pump those damn brakes, Mr. Badass Billy

Too much Fox News is making you sound silly

I’ll be on my way if you take your aim off me

If you do, nobody will think of you as a softy

HARDCORE HERSHEL

I forgot what the hell I was jibber-jabbering about

Something about your generation doing dumb shit for clout

Eating Tide Pods and putting Gorilla Glue in your hair

I’d never do those things because I’ve got a brain to spare

SOFTCORE SEBASTIAN

Take it nice and easy, Mr. Army Man Arthur

There’s no reason to make your heart work harder

Not all of us are like that, perhaps none of us are

Your brain is being washed by Boomer Bill Maher

HARDCORE HERSHEL

I fought in every war that this country has waged

I’ve earned my right to bask in my elderly age

Knowing that you kids will inherit this world

Makes me want to double over and unleash some hurl

SOFTCORE SEBASTIAN

Slow the fuck down, Mr. Bullet Bubba-Bob

You can’t live forever whether you like it or not

Just raise the minimum wage and forget my age

Let someone else have the spotlight on the stage

HARDCORE HERSHEL

You’ll have to pry this gun from my cold dead hands

You’ll have to spray my red blood across the land

When was the last time you fought a war in the sands?

I’m the king of the hill and you don’t stand a chance

SOFTCORE SEBASTIAN

I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t want any trouble

And for you that goes double, Mr. Barney Rubble

BOOM!

HARDCORE HERSHEL

The world is mine! The world is all mine, you whippersnapper!

HEART ATTACK NOISES

FINAL LINE

And this, boys and girls, is why we can’t have nice things. The end!

Solutions

***SOLUTIONS***

Before I begin, I want everyone to know that this particular topic isn’t directed at one person in particular; it’s just something I’ve had brewing for a while. One of the most popular ways to generate interest in your story is by piling on problems on your main character’s already hefty workload. Or as TV Tropes likes to say, Just Add Ninjas. Or as Jenna Moreci says as well, “Break your hero’s legs with a baseball bat.” I will admit that I struggle with not putting my characters in enough danger. It’s not because I don’t like tension or that I’m intentionally babying my heroes. The main problem with me is that I can’t come up with realistic solutions to these many problems the heroes are facing.

For example, a recent critique against Incelbordination’s seventeenth chapter is that subduing Antero was too easy of a task for Oswald. That’s actually a fair criticism. For a guy who had Oswald wrapped around his finger the entire story, Antero certainly chose the dumbest way to confront him, armed with just a machete and no backup. In hindsight, Antero should have had a better plan. But how many obstacles for Oswald are too many before the little guy gets brutally murdered and nothing is solved? Suppose Antero brought a handgun instead of a machete. It’d be smarter, but how would Oswald realistically combat someone with that kind of advantage? Suppose Antero drove a tank to the dorms. Should Oswald turn into a Super Saiyan Level Four and throw a Kamehameha wave at the oncoming war machine? Again, I’m not trying to disparage the person giving me the critique, but these are points that need to be considered if such a debate will happen.

Another example of something I can foresee going wrong is how easily Scott George from Silent Warrior was freed from prison. Spoiler alert: his bail was paid via a Go Fund Me page set up by Principal Williams. Given the nature of Scott’s crime and how little he knows about prison life, how else was he supposed to walk free? Perhaps instead of bunking with Alan Young, he could have Andy Dufresne from Shawshank Redemption as his cell mate. Once the two dig a tunnel behind a Raquel Welsh poster, they can read copies of Count of Monte Crisco by Alexandree Dumbass until the end of time. Even if escaping jail somehow became the non-sarcastic solution, it’s too ambitious of a plan for someone like Scott. Once he’s free, he’s forever on the run and has no way of redeeming himself. He doesn’t get the girl (Adrienne Simpson), he doesn’t graduate from high school, and he doesn’t teach Adrienne’s father a valuable lesson in respect.

Want another example? Of course you do, that’s why you’re here. About a year and a half ago, I wrote a heavy metal urban fantasy novel called Demon Axe, about a singer who uses a magical microphone to slay his enemies (audiomancy). The microphone in question is considered a MacGuffin, which is defined as any object in which the story revolves around. Spoiler alert: the microphone determines the outcome of the story. MacGuffins are considered a literary sin in most critical circles, but then I ask, what else is Daniel Mercer (the singer) supposed to do? How can he realistically combat someone who has enough fighting experience to murder entire crowds of people at once (that person being the elven terrorist Roger Zee). Daniel’s only combat experience comes from barroom brawls, which hardly emphasizes the technique Roger spent decades learning. Having a powerful weapon like the MacGuffin microphone is the only way to subdue someone as powerful as Roger.

Solutions to major storyline problems aren’t easy to come by, especially if you’ve painted yourself into a corner like I’m so often afraid to do. It’s okay to ask for help. In fact, that’s one of the beta reader’s roles in his or her job: to help come up with solutions for seemingly impossible situations. Granted, they can’t do everything for you, but if you split the brainstorming 50/50, I’m sure the two of you can come up with some feasible solutions. It could be that there is no solution and that your characters have to die a nasty death. It could be that something major has to change in the storyline before the solution is readily available. Working out such kinks is a team effort and acknowledging this will lead to a healthy professional relationship with your beta reader. You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“If you need somebody, call my name. If you want someone, you can do the same. If you want to keep something precious, got to lock it up and throw away the key. You want to hold onto your possessions, don’t even think about me. If it’s a mirror you want, just look into my eyes. Or a whipping boy, someone to despise. Or a prisoner in the dark, tied up in chains you just can’t see. Or a beast in a gilded cage, that’s all some people ever want to be. You can’t control an independent heart. Can’t tear the one you love apart. Forever conditioned to believe that we can’t live here and be happy with less. With so many riches, so many souls, with everything we see that we want to possess. If you love somebody, set them free.”

-Sting singing “If You Love Somebody Set Them Free”-

Silent Warrior, Chapter 21

As a handsome middle-aged gentleman in a brown ponytail stood by her side, Linda Williams took center stage of the gymnasium with a microphone in hand. She noticed the sullen expressions on her students’ faces as they filed into the bleachers one by one. Linda caught a glimpse of Adrienne Simpson sitting in the far upper corner by herself. The Principal’s heart ached for her and all of this new trauma she had to deal with. That was not to undermine the sadness of the other students filling the seats, all of which had slumped over postures and saggy frowns.

Right at the time everybody was seated where they needed to be, Linda tapped the microphone a few times and tested it for feedback. She gazed around at the audience before her with a combination of sympathy and strength in her face. She needed to be strong when others felt they had the strength sapped right out of them. Linda took a few breaths to steel her nerves and brought the microphone up to her lips to begin her oratory.

“Before I get started with this emergency school assembly, I want to get two talking points off my chest. First, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for coming today, students and teachers alike. I wish this was all under different circumstances, but it is what it is. And secondly,” Linda patted the ponytail-wearing gentleman on the shoulder and said, “This is Paul Corbin. He will be your new US history teacher as he’s taking over for the departed Tom Simpson. He’ll take good care of you and hopefully you’ll find him to your liking.”

Linda gazed down at her loafers to allow for a beat of silence. Reengaging the audience, she said, “I’m sure some of you heard by now what happened with Tom Simpson and why he’s not here today. For those of you who need to be brought up to speed, let’s just say he won’t be working here anymore. He made a bad decision and it cost him his job. I know that argument sounds familiar to those of you who were close to one Scott George. I know how quickly rumors can travel.”

Pacing back and forth with slowness in her step, Linda cleared her throat and said, “We can debate all day long about the morality of what Scott George did. Then again, we can also do the same thing for Mr. Simpson. And for Alan Young, another student whose name you might recognize. Varying opinions aside, I have a confession to make as it pertains to my tenure here at Perkins High.”

“I haven’t been a perfect Principal. I’ve made a few enemies here and there. But the one thing I can never forgive myself for…is allowing my own students to be victimized. I’ve been blind to the mistreatment going on around here. I thought it was just another day at the office. And then I saw a You Tube video of Scott George sobbing at his father’s grave while the so-called filmmaker Alan Young laughed in the background. That never should have been the ultimate breaking point and for that I’m sorry.”

Pointing her arm at the new teacher, she said, “As you can see from Mr. Corbin’s presence, there are going to be some changes around here. These changes are going to shake the very foundation of this once esteemed high school. No more abuses of power. No more hostile work environments. No more mediocre school lunches. Everything is going to change around here from top to bottom, left to right. Mind you, these changes aren’t going to happen overnight. Reforming a broken school takes time and effort. While I realize that patience isn’t always a virtue among everyone here today, it is needed if we’re to make these changes in a civilized and methodical way.

“To put it as delicately as possible, Scott George hit some bumps in the road during his educational experiences here. I’ve no doubt that many of you feel the same way. The only difference is, his story came to my attention first. And his story is the reason why these radical changes are happening in the first place. As long as they’re happening, I’d love know your stories as well. You know why? Because unlike what Tom Simpson had been preaching this whole time, democracy isn’t dead. Your voices matter now more than ever. You have the right to be heard and there’s not a teacher walking this earth that can take that away from you.

“Which brings me to my final talking point of the day. If you’ve been following the local news, you’d know that Scott is currently sitting in jail awaiting his final sentencing. The crime he committed had no victims, yet he currently has a five thousand dollar bail looming over his head. He doesn’t have a lot of time left before that bail will be revoked and his prison sentence will officially begin.

“Therefore, I am announcing to you all this morning that I’ve set up a Go Fund Me page to pay for his bail. The link to the page will be posted on the bulletin board outside of my office. I don’t expect any one person to fork over the full amount. In fact, I don’t want any of you to think that the new changes to this school will be contingent on how much money is donated to the cause. This isn’t extortion. This is purely optional. One dollar would be fine. A quarter. A nickel. Every little bit will help.

“If you’re wondering why you should care about a kid who was rebellious at his worst and tearful at his best, then know that I would do the same for any one of you if you were placed in a similar situation. No student deserves to be taken advantage of. No student deserves to be silenced. Every student has the right to an education should he or she decide to pursue it. I feel that way about Scott George, a kid with so much promise and so much of an upside that it breaks my heart to see him lose it all over an asinine loophole in the law he allegedly broke.

“I’m not asking you all for help. I’m pleading with you. I’m all but on my hands and knees. I’m asking for this school to be united, not torn apart by bullying or abuse of any kind. If there’s one thing Scott George will teach you all, it’s that empathy and love will go a lot further than empty disciplinary tactics and mindless conformity. He wants you all to be free thinkers. He wants you all to take advantage of the opportunities you have. He wants to see these changes to our school just as much as you all need them. I’ll close this assembly with one final plea: can you find it in your hearts to give Mr. George another chance?”

The expressions on the students’ faces spoke volumes: angry eyebrows, defeated frowns, and tense stares. One by one they left the gymnasium without waiting for Miss Williams to give permission to exit. They never said one word, presumably because for so long they had been fed the “democracy is dead” shtick like it was the worst tasting medicine imaginable, worse than any worm-infested food Scott George would eat in his new home. The only student who didn’t get up and leave was Adrienne Simpson, who pulled her knees up and tucked her head in her lap, feeling dejected and forlorn.

As soon as the bleachers were empty sans Adrienne, Paul Corbin placed a gentle hand on Linda Williams’s shoulder and said, “You did your best to convince them.”

“Did I really, Paul? Is this just another chapter of broken promises and ignorant leadership?” asked Linda in a sullen tone.

“Nobody’s perfect, Linda. Not you, not me, not Scott George himself. But that’s what makes us human. We grow, we adapt, and we learn things. Isn’t that what school is all about?”

“It’s too late for us now,” said Linda. “These changes should have been made long before Scott was taken into custody. I could have prevented all of this from happening. But instead, I sat by and did nothing. I was naïve to think everything was okay. Does anybody really tell you that everything is wrong in their world? For god’s sake, I should have never hired Tom in the first place.”

Linda’s stonewall strength had crumbled all around her and she couldn’t help but shed a few silent tears. How could she remain strong after all that’s happened? She believed it was all her fault and that she had no right to cry about it in the first place. But the tears kept coming, albeit in a silent sob that still caught the attention of Paul Corbin. The new history teacher gave the Principal a hug light enough to avoid awkwardness, but strong enough to know that he was by her side.

“Excuse me, Miss Williams?” said Adrienne, who was now standing within close range and Linda hadn’t even realized it until she picked her tear-soaked face up. The little freshman held out a twenty dollar bill and said, “I want to contribute this to Scott’s bail. It’s not much, but I hope it’s a step in the right direction. I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.”

A smile spread across Linda’s face despite the flowing tears. She accepted the twenty dollar bill and said, “Oh, Miss Simpson, bless your little heart. I know Scott means a lot to you. He means a lot to me too. Speaking of rainy days…” The last sadly joking sentence was punctuated by pointing at her own teary face, hence the raindrops.

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately too, Miss Williams. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re still one of the strongest women I know, next to my mom.”

Linda sighed, “I guess we all have to be strong now, don’t we? I just hope Scott feels the same way. Of course, it’s hard to be strong when you’re all alone behind those barred walls.”