Tifa and Aerith vs. Tim Pool

 

Uncomfortable

VERSE 1

All this time I was dating a stranger

Thinking she was my queen and savior

Couldn’t get comfortable for a second

I couldn’t form a wisecrack sentence

Stutter, stutter, stutter, stutter

Iron courage melts like a stick of butter

The keys to her heart, far out of reach

Infinite charisma, could never teach

CHORUS

Uncomfortable on her couch

Uncomfortable kissing sounds

Uncomfortable silence so loud

Uncomfortable! Uncomfortable!

VERSE 2

They say I’m too shy, too out of place

Too much sadness written on my face

Too much anger building up inside

Not enough zeal, too much pride

Could never open up, make the first move

For fear of having everything to lose

Couldn’t get comfortable for a minute

The kiss goodbye never tasted so vicious

CHORUS

Uncomfortable on her couch

Uncomfortable kissing sounds

Uncomfortable silence so loud

Uncomfortable! Uncomfortable!

VERSE 3

A new friend, a new song of silence

Cower away from the seductive siren

She takes my hand, she tries to dance

Another way to try to get in my pants

Discomfort became seen as weakness

My broken heart shattered into pieces

I swear it’ll be different the next time

Except there won’t be another next time

EXTENDED CHORUS

Uncomfortable on her couch

Uncomfortable kissing sounds

Uncomfortable silence so loud

Uncomfortable! Uncomfortable!

Uncomfortable in my head

Uncomfortable is what I said

Should I try to say it again?

Or will this loneliness never end?

Skin On Skin

VERSE 1

A squeeze of her shoulder, a ruffle of her hair

Let her know that you’ll always be there

A scratch of her back, a hold of her hand

Comfort your lover any way that you can

A kiss of her face, the gentlest of hugs

Gets her high like the strongest of drugs

It’s better than spending another minute alone

No such connection can be found on your phone

CHORUS

Skin on skin is never a sin

Her heart is yours to win

Skin on skin is never a sin

Her heart is yours to win

VERSE 2

I know you’re scared, somewhat unprepared

I know it’s not fair when it’s truth or dare

I know you think what you touch turns to ash

I know that mirror is all but yours to smash

What do you do when she calls your name?

Walk away? It’s just like more of the same?

What do you do when she wants your touch?

Can you find it within you to love and trust?

CHORUS

Skin on skin is never a sin

Her heart is yours to win

Skin on skin is never a sin

Her heart is yours to win

VERSE 3

Take a walk together on the beach’s dockside

Lose track of the time as it passes clockwise

You can talk for hours on what love truly is

Sooner or later, she’ll want to sneak a kiss

Will you curl on the ground as your heart pounds?

Or will you listen to her voice’s sweet sounds?

Make the right call, your back’s against the wall

When it comes to love, how hard will you fall?

CHORUS

Skin on skin is never a sin

Her heart is yours to win

Skin on skin is never a sin

Her heart is yours to win

Silent Warrior, Chapter 20

With the sun’s gentle rays caressing their skins and the ocean’s waves to lull them into comfort, Scott and Adrienne strolled along the beach together hand in hand without a care in the world. Scott’s tan cargo shorts clung to his hips like he actually had the body of an athlete. Adrienne’s purple bikini revealed her best physical features, though none could match the beauty of her smile as she pecked her boyfriend on the cheek.

Somewhere in one of the straw huts, a portable stereo played the underrated Sting classic “When We Dance”. And by god, the couple was going to do just that. Scott spun his girlfriend around and leaned her backwards while she lifted one of her gorgeous bare feet in the air. The two lovers shared another kiss together, this one much longer and more passionate than the first.

The two hugged each other and slow-danced to Sting’s lyrics. When Adrienne asked him why his face grew serious all of the sudden, Scott said, “Can we never leave this beach? Do we have to go back to Perkins City?”

“Trust me, babe, I’d love nothing more than to spend forever with you on this beach. We have everything we’ll ever need here: good food, gentle waves, and enough sunshine to keep us warm until the end of time,” said Adrienne in a seductive voice. Her face also grew serious when she finished her sentiment with, “Unfortunately, we have to go back soon. Vacations are only temporary as we both know from going to school all the time. It seems like time is just flying by and we can’t catch up with it.”

Scott embraced his girlfriend tightly and begged, “No, I’m not going back! Please don’t make me go back. I fucking hate that place. It’s like a reverse fucking Disneyland!”

Adrienne pushed him to a close distance and said, “I know, Scott. Trust me, I know. If I go back to Perkins City, my dad is just going to make my life a living hell, just like he did yours. Reality sucks, but that’s what life is.”

“I don’t want this life anymore,” confessed Scott. “I’ve waited all this time to be free and I’m not going to just have it snatched up from underneath me.”

“But then who’s going to pay the bills, honey? What will we do for money? This beach isn’t paying our rent. It’s just an escape from our responsibilities. Whether we like it or not, we’re part of a community.”

“No, don’t say that word! Don’t say the C-word!” snapped Scott as he dropped to his knees and covered his ears. “Don’t say that fucking word! I hate that word! Oh god, oh god, oh god, I hate that word!”

“Scott, please! You’re scaring me! I didn’t mean to trigger you!” said a frightened Adrienne as he gently rested her palm on her boyfriend’s shoulder. The minute Scott’s tears splashed on the soft sand, she hugged him around the head and comforted him with, “I’m sorry. I’ll never say that word again. We can stay here if you’d like. It’s not like this island is in short supply of jobs or anything like that.”

“Jobs?” wept Scott. “Who’s going to hire me? What boss in his right mind wants to hire a guy who falls to pieces after every little thing?”

Placing both hands on her boyfriend’s shoulders and giving him a stern look, Adrienne said, “You have to take responsibility to wake up from your nightmares. You can’t live this way forever, my dear. I can only do so much for you. Now it’s your turn to fight back against the world. You can’t let these people beat you so easily. Fight for me, Scott. Fight for us. Fight for our child!”

The two of them stood up slowly together and Scott’s watery eyes were now staring lovingly into his girlfriend’s sweet face. “You’re right, babe. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry I acted the way I did. Can you do me one last favor before we leave here? Kiss me. Kiss me as hard as you can. If I’m going to fight for what’s right, then I’m going to need all the strength I can get.”

“Of course I’ll kiss you, silly. Come here.” Just as promised, the two of them locked lips and swirled their tongues in each other’s mouths. Adrienne’s lips became much more aggressive as Scott held her closer.

Scott closed his eyes and enjoyed the passionate kiss…until he felt some strange presences crawling around on his tongue. He forcefully pulled away and his eyes shot open in horror at the face he was now gazing into. The visage of Aloysius Striker sang her operatic “Good Morning” song while Scott desperately spit out worm after worm, maggot after maggot. He stuck his index finger in his mouth and barfed the last of the worms onto the sand below, turning his body nearly inside out from the deadly force.

“Good morning to you! Good morning to you! Good morning, dear Scotty! Good morning to you!” Mrs. Striker’s voice became progressively deeper and more demonic as she sang her whimsical tune. Her teeth looked more dangerous than those of a great white shark. Her evilly-slanted eyes glowed with orange neon. The worms in the back of her throat slithered down her jaw and all Scott could do about it was scream his head off.

“Order! Order in the courtroom!” commanded the judge as he smashed his gavel and awakened Scott from his nightmare. Drenched in sweat and still wearing his hospital scrubs, he found himself back in the defendant’s chair with his lawyer by his side. Scott’s breathing grew deeper and deeper while his lawyer tried to calm him down with shoulder pats.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge.

“We have, your honor,” said the lead juror. Scott’s hazy vision was now laser focused as his heart beat quickly and adrenaline flooded his nervous system. Even though his “vacation” with Adrienne was only temporary, he had to take that lesson to heart: fight for what you believe in. Fight for what’s right. Never give up. This internal monologue steeled his raw nerves to where he could focus on the verdict. No matter what the jury decided, this fight wouldn’t be over by a long shot and Scott showed that with his eyebrows furrowed.

“In the case of The People vs. Scott George, on one count statutory rape, we find the defendant Mr. Scott George…guilty as charged.”

“No!” cried Adrienne from a far corner of the courtroom while the judge’s gavel banging restored order to a chaotic situation. No amount of mallet whacking could drain the tears from Adrienne Simpson’s eyes as she hugged her mother tightly.

“Bail set at five thousand dollars. Thank you, members of the jury. Bailiff, please take the defendant away. I’ll hand down his sentence soon enough. Case dismissed,” said the judge before banging the gavel one last time.

The bailiff grabbed Scott’s arm and brought him to his feet before cuffing his hands behind his back and pulling him away. The defendant’s eyes watered as his lawyer mouthed the words, “I’m sorry for everything.” Scott nodded at him as he was being half-dragged down the aisle.

“Scott!” shouted Adrienne as she rushed to the center, stopping the bailiff and his charge in their tracks. She placed a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder and whisper-sobbed, “Promise me this isn’t over! Promise me you’ll fight through the pain!”

“I promise you, Adrienne. We will see each other again.” He tried to kiss her, but was immediately pulled away by the scruff of his neck. He never took his eyes off of his beautiful, yet sorrowful Adrienne Simpson, even when she turned away to hug her mother once more.

Before Scott could cross the threshold leading to the outside world, he distinctly heard his girlfriend shout, “I’m not a goddamn victim, you assholes!” The uncaring judge banged the gavel even louder in order to shut her up.

The one thing that raced through Scott’s mind as he was being hauled away into the police car was anxiety over whether or not he made a promise he couldn’t keep. Maybe the two of them would see each other again…in the next life. Maybe there could finally be justice in a political climate where there was none…in the next life. Maybe the world would finally pull its head out of its ass…in the next life.

Such a funny phrase for someone as atheistic as Scott George: the next life. He had only heard about its beauty through the Pop Evil song of the same name. Even without his trusty MP3 player, he could still hear Leigh Kakaty’s golden voice crooning that lovely rock tune to him. Scott was surprised that his mind was cooperative for a change instead of trying to force-feed him worms, or worse yet, the philosophy of a conformist community.

In many ways, the prison system was a “community” of its own. Everybody wore the same clothing. Everybody did the same activities. Ate the same disgusting food. Lived with the same disgusting people. Lived by the rules of the same disgusting prison guards. Lived under the thumb of a warden who could only be described as Aloysius Striker on steroids. And to think, that woman was actually a real person instead of a traumatic Floydian ghost.

That reminded Scott of something that brought out even more wormy feelings in his stomach: would he see Alan Young in prison too? What kind of person would he become after such a short time of captivity? Alan was already a nasty son of a bitch. What would he look like in an orange jumpsuit? Would he be covered in prison tattoos? Would he look twice as ugly as when he went in? Would he actually be good at fighting this time around? Scott somehow took solace in the idea that the other prisoners wouldn’t put up with his rotten attitude. But even that modicum of solace wasn’t enough to shut up the worms in Scott’s belly and brain. Where was a gavel when he needed one?

Witch Hunt

Sonya Jade allowed the calming effect of stirring pie-filling to wash over her like warm beach water. There she was sitting cross-legged with her chin propped up on her fist and her eyes closed while she hummed a gentle tune. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about baking pies that made her so relaxed. Maybe it was a hobby. Maybe it was a future career choice. Maybe it was an escape from the daily grind of religious school. Whatever it was, she licked her lips in anticipation of the resulting gooey strawberry pie. The tart flavor, the moist texture, the crunchy crust, they would all come together to create a symphony of heaven on her tongue. The thought of it made her mouth water so much that she wiped some spittle from the corner of her lips.

Her baking-induced hypnosis was rudely interrupted by a rapid-fire knock on her cottage door. Sonya gasped heavy and scrambled to move the pie filling away from the heat. She dumped a tiny portion of it on the straw floor and stifled a storm of curse words when a tiny droplet burned her toe. She ruffled her baker’s dress and straightened her long purple hair as the knocking grew intense. “I’m coming!” she yelled impatiently while power walking to the door.

She messed with her hair one last time before opening the door and nearly getting bowled over by her best friend Devon Cross. Her own black dress and messy black hair suggested she had been in a struggle of some kind, not to mention her erratic pacing and nervous shaking. Devon grabbed Sonya’s arms and begged her, “Please! You’ve got to help me! They’re after me! They think I’m a witch!”

Sonya cupped her hands over Devon’s face and said, “Settle down. Who’s after you?”

“The Order of Light! They’re going to burn me alive! Hide me somewhere!” Devon shouted frantically, to which Sonya shushed her and motioned her to hide under her straw bed.

There was another knock on Sonya’s door and this time it sounded like boxing punches. “Open the door, harlot!” a male voice shouted. “We know you’re in there! God has no place for you in this world! Come out here so we can send you straight to hell with the rest of the demons!” The knocking grew so violent that splinters breezed off the cottage door. Sonya once again scrambled to fix her dress and hair before frantically answering the door.

At her doorstep stood a small, white-robed militia carrying poleaxes and torches, their leader as hefty as a pumpkin and scraggly as a yeti. “Where is she?” asked the leader in a gruff and furious voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, good sir,” said Sonya with a modicum of innocence as she leaned against her doorway.

“Don’t lie to me, young lady. Lying is a sin. We know you’re harboring a witch in that cottage of yours and if you don’t surrender her to us, we’ll have you crucified as well!”

“There’s nobody here but me, sir,” said Sonya. “I’m just baking pies and getting ready for a wonderful meal.”

“Baking pies, huh?” asked the lead witch hunter, who sniffed the air with his piggish snout and gagged with his tongue hanging out. “Smells like ogre dung if you ask me! Your husband should be ashamed of such perverse cooking methods!” The chubby man peeked down at her fingers and noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding band of any kind. “You don’t have a husband, do you?”

“Unfortunately, no, sir, I don’t. It’s just me here,” said Sonya with a sullen expression.

“Well then,” said the leader as he smacked his horse lips. “We’ll see if that pie of yours is any good after all.”

“I thought you said it smelled like ogre shi, I mean, ogre dung,” said Sonya while sheepishly covering her mouth after that accidental swear words.

“I wasn’t talking about that abomination you were baking,” said the witch hunter while gazing down at Sonya’s crotch with drooling lips and wild eyes. The single lady slowly backed away, but the witch hunters swarmed on her, grabbing her arms and legs while she struggled and yelled to be let go. “Come on, everyone! Who wants to get married to this fine young piece of ass?!”

The cheers of the witch hunters sent shivers down Sonya’s spine and numbness throughout her brain while she was being pinned to the floor by these heavy men. She had experienced sexism all the time at her religious school, but never once had this many men tried to gang up on her at once. The brushing of their skin against hers, the whips of their tongues, and their ale-stench breath made her want to vomit inside out.

Sonya’s dress was flipped over her head and her crotch was exposed to these piggish beasts who dared hide behind religion to justify their actions. Any minute now, she would feel a disgusting piece of meat driven into her repeatedly again and again. And then…the witch hunters backed off toward the doorway.

After catching her breath and flipping her dress back down, Sonya gazed with weary eyes at the floating pot of pie filling, which glided across the air and toward the jittery witch hunters. The still piping hot filling bubbled and shot in the air like a geyser before splashing down on each of the witch hunters’ faces. They screamed like little girls and scrambled around clutching their burned flesh.

Sonya took this opportunity to leap to her feet and kick the lead witch hunter in the balls, which made him scream at an even higher pitch. He plopped to the ground while crawling away on his hands and knees. One of the other witch hunters tried to “grab that bitch”, but the pot of pie filling slammed him square in the stomach and doubled him over. Taking a hint from each other’s misery, the witch hunters scrambled in retreat and disappeared behind the dense foliage of the forest, shouting like they were being gutted alive with an olive fork.

Sonya shivered in both anger and traumatic fear. Somehow kicking that man in the balls wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to rip him limb from limb and use his body parts to beat the holy hell out of his disgusting friends. She wanted to rip their skins off and wear them like a winter coat. She wanted to use their innards as filling for her strawberry pie and wolf it down like…well…a starving wolf.

“Are you at all considering dropping out of religious school?” said Devon Cross, who stood in Sonya’s doorway with a green aura surrounding her hands and a wicked smile on her face.

Sonya wanted to thank her for the obvious witchcraft that saved her from a gang rape, but instead she slapped the smile right off of her friend’s face. “How dare you lead those men to my house?! If your witchcraft is so great, why didn’t you just take them down beforehand?! I actually believed that you were anything but a witch! You lied to me, Devon! You lied to me and almost got me killed!”

“Settle down, sweetheart,” mocked Devon. “I came over to your house because I didn’t know if my magic would work or not. I’d only been studying it for a couple of months now and, really, how much can you learn in a couple of months?”

“You shouldn’t be studying that crap at all, Devon!” belted Sonya. “You could have gotten the two of us killed! You know the Order of Light despises that kind of magic!”

“So you’re just going to do what the Order of Light tells you to do for the rest of your life?” asked Devon with arms folded. “You’re a fucking drone, Sonya Jade. You really are.”

“Watch your mouth, Devon! He could be watching us!” whispered Sonya angrily.

“Who could be watching us?!” roared Devon. “The man upstairs? The man downstairs? The man in the middle level? Who?! Who the fuck is listening to the conversation about witchcraft?! And while I’m at it…” Devon stepped out in the middle of Sonya’s hard and did a kick dance while singing “Goddamn it!” repeatedly in a joyful tone. Sonya tried to shush her, but the dancing and singing continued even louder.

“For fuck’s sake, Devon, knock that fucking shit off!” shouted Sonya, which prompted her to cover her dirty mouth and Devon to stop dancing like a fool.

“You hear that, babe?” asked the witch while cupping Sonya’s face in her hands. “That’s what I like to see. You don’t really give a shit about that stupid religion. You’re just scared. You’re scared of what those men will do to you when they recover. You’re scared of what the entire Order of Light will do. You’re scared of the afterlife that follows. Or maybe what really scares you…is that they’ll eventually find out your little secret.”

Sonya’s eyes widened and her lips quivered while she stuttered, “W..what secret?”

“The secret that involves one of these,” said Devon with lust dripping off of her words like the pie filling that never was. She planted a passionate kiss on her friend’s lips and Sonya did nothing to reject it or even show the slightest amount of disgust. The tongues swirling sent butterflies flapping in Sonya’s stomach and a sparkle of wetness in her nether regions.

Once their kiss was over, Devon fondled Sonya’s hair and wiped the resulting tears from her eyes. “How did you know?” asked Miss Jade.

“Never mind how I know, Sonya. You’re asking the wrong question. The real question is…why are you so afraid? You’ve crossed the point of no return with that kiss. The Order of Light has nothing over you anymore. If you learned witchcraft with me, the two of us can be unstoppable. Catch my drift, sweetie? Or am I about to get you killed again?”

This time, it was Sonya’s turn to plant a sexy kiss on Devon Cross’s mouth. Her lips tasted sweeter than any strawberry pie she could have baked. Wrestling with her tongue eased the demons in her mind of what almost happened with the witch hunters. Men were disgusting to her, but Devon was easy to fall in love with. Her silky black hair, her creamy dark skin, and her curvy figure made her feel alive with every kiss. Fuck the Order of Light and everything that they stood for.

I Owe You Nothing

It didn’t matter how many times Tina Williamson replayed the incidents in her head, because they made less sense with every mental edit. What part about “No!” did John Link not understand? It was a two-letter word that even the most rudimentary English speakers could understand. Regardless of how many times she said it, John kept on asking her out on dates as if high school romance had become a war of attrition. At first it was just a simple series of requests. Then John started saying things like “You owe me!” and tugging on her clothing, almost enough to pull them off.

When these frightening thoughts prevented Tina from concentrating on school work, she decided enough was enough. Giving a D+ to a hardworking student like her was unjustifiable. She had to tell someone of John Link’s misdeeds. Why not start with her parents? That should have been a secure conversation to have. She couldn’t imagine going to the Principal with something like this, considering the school’s track record with handling student complaints.

As Tina gingerly walked home, her legs and arms shook not just because of the cold weather, but also because she didn’t know what the hell she was going to say. She stared through her thick-rimmed, fogged up glasses with dead emptiness. She stuffed her hands in her blue jeans pockets, but the denim wasn’t thick enough to protect against the cold. The black skull cap and pink sweater didn’t do much good either since she was still shaking. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a few minutes alone in her room with the heater blasting at maximum power. It would have been like a sweet Hawaiian breeze, the calm before the storm of knowing she eventually had to talk to her parents.

She finally made it to her house and fumbled with her keys. Her hands shook so badly that they fell out of her grip once she pulled them out of her pockets. It took her a while to get a good grasp while bending over, but once she did, she wasted no time in unlocking the door and being in the comfort of her…well, comfortable home. At least it was supposed to be comfortable.

Tina’s eyes widened with horror as she shut the door behind her. Her jaw was quivering and her teeth were chattering at the sight of John Link sitting on the living room couch with her parents, Kenny and Melissa Williamson. John, who wore his studded leather jacket and black jeans, had his arm around Melissa while the two of them plus Kenny laughed like a happy family should.

“Tina, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us about this handsome young boy?” said Melissa with a charming smile. “He was going on and on about how he’d love to have you as a date to the winter dance.”

“He’s a stud, Tina. He’ll take good care of you like a grown man should. Hell, I’d even call him husband material!” said Kenny as he ruffled John’s spiky blond hair.

The image of those three sitting together laughing, joking, and buttering each other up lit a fire in Tina’s belly. She threw her brown leather book bag on the plush chair opposite of the couch and folded her arms while giving John Link the gorgon death stare. “How many times do I have to tell you no? Are you deaf? Do you need a hearing aid? Or are you just plain stupid?”

“Tina, don’t be rude to your guest!” insisted Melissa.

“No, I’ve had it with this shit!” screamed Tina as she threw her arms by her side. “I’m tired of this Neanderthal coming around me thinking I owe him a fucking relationship! I’ve got news for you, dumb-ass! I owe you nothing! You’re not entitled to free sex! You’re entitled to get the hell out of my house before I call 9-1-1!”

John stood up and extended his arms in a “calm down” manner and said, “Hey, hey, hey! There’s no need for that, Tina. I just want to take you out and show you a good time. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I was just telling your folks here that it would be a great idea for us to get dinner at your favorite Italian place after we mingled at the winter dance. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Not nearly as much fun as watching you being dragged away in handcuffs!” screamed Tina.

The mock boyfriend hung his head and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. With a solemn attitude, he said, “Okay, okay. You’re absolutely right, Tina. You’ve said no to me for a long time now and I’m just too thickheaded to get the point. I’ll be on my way soon enough.” A beat of silence hung in the air and cold chills were building within the Williamson family. “But then again,” said John. “You’ve shown me disrespect just now and…and…I can’t let that slide!”

John pulled a revolver out of his jacket pocket and put a bullet in Kenny’s leg. The old man dropped to the floor clutching his bloody wound and howling in agony while Melissa knelt beside him, also screaming like a demon. Tina’s eyes shot up as she held her hand to her mouth while watching this scene unfold. She tried to help her father, but John kept his gun trained on her and said, “Hey! Back off!”

Holding her hands in the air defensively, Tina said, “He needs help, John! He needs an ambulance!”

“For God’s sake, Tina! Why couldn’t you just say yes to the poor man!” yelled Kenny in between fits of pain.

“Your dad has a point there, sweet cheeks. All of this could have gone away if you just said one simple word. One word, three letters, one of them being a Y. That’s all you had to do. Instead…” John twisted his head around eccentrically and said, “You had to reject me and make me feel like a worthless piece of shit! Do you think I’m a piece of shit, Tina?! Huh?! Do you think you can label me like that?!”

John fired another bullet, this time into Melissa’s back, causing her to wail at her loudest. Tina wailed as well when she screamed, “Stop it! Leave them alone! They’re my family!”

“Now look what you’ve done, Tina! How could you do this to your mommy and daddy! We’ve worked so hard for you!” screamed Kenny before he went back to clutching his leg and grunting through his teeth.

And then Tina Williamson had a moment of clarity. Here was this maniac standing in her living room with a loaded pistol and her own parents were putting the blame on her for refusing John’s advances. Tina’s parents always had a conservative state of mind where women were subservient to men. But Tina never bought it for a minute. She was nobody’s slave. She was her own woman and she planned on keeping it that way. But with a pistol pointed at her face, her options were limited. Just one word could change it all.

“Yes.” Tina let that word hang in the air for a while so that it could resonate throughout the room. In a calm manner, she said, “You win, John. If you want to date me, you can. But first, there’s something I want from you.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, lady! I’m the one with the gun! I give the orders!” screamed John.

“All I wanted was a kiss. Why can’t we start things over with just a nice kiss?” said Tina. Those words hung in the air as well. Every syllable could be felt by all in the form of blood chilling and temporary silence from screaming in agony.

A smile formed on John’s face when he said, “Okay, baby. That’s actually a good idea.” He lowered his weapon as the two of them came together in the center of the living room for what would be a passionate make-out session. It started with a peck on the lips. Then their tongues danced in each other’s mouths. And then once John’s tongue advanced passed Tina’s teeth, she bit down hard and amputated the oral organ.

John dropped his gun and held his rapidly bleeding mouth while shrieking in pain. He tried to swear, but there was too much blood and not enough tongue for words to be formed. It all sounded like a monster’s gargling. In the time it took John to sprawl across the ground and dribble blood on the carpet, Tina picked up the fallen gun and put a bullet into the sex offender’s head, causing Melissa and Kenny to squeal in fear and jump backwards a little bit, but not too far since they were still in god-awful pain.

Tina never fired a gun before in her life, yet she slew John Link like a professional assassin. Her arms were shaking, her eyes were teary, and she could barely stand up as she trembled.

“Tina…sweetie?” said Melissa in a soft voice. “Give me the gun and we’ll take care of this for you.” No answer.

“Come on, Tina, what are you waiting for? Give your mother the goddamn gun!” insisted Kenny.

In a sudden burst of volcanic anger, Tina pointed the gun at her parents and yelled, “You sold me up the fucking river with no paddle! Die, you motherfuckers! Die!” She unloaded the last remaining bullets on both of her parents, leaving the living room with three dead bodies and one sobbing girl.

Tina threw the empty gun aside and dropped to her knees, letting her sore red eyeballs drain onto what was left of the now bloodstained carpet. She could see it all unfold before her. It didn’t happen yet, but it was going to. Tina would be sentenced to life in prison, the newspapers would label her a psycho, her fellow classmates (male and female) would laugh at her, and it would all boil down to one stupid question that nobody should ask: “Why didn’t she just say yes?” The disgusting thoughts caused Tina to vomit heavily onto the carpet before laying down in her own mess and passing out. She knew the world was cruel to women, but she didn’t know how bad it had gotten until that day.

I Shouldn't Have Fallen In Love With Her

Valentine’s Day, Singles Awareness Day, VD, SAD, it didn’t matter what Alex McKenzie wanted to call it, because it wouldn’t change the theme of February 14^th: lovey-dovey ooey-gooey romance, something he knew little about. God, I hate this fucking day, Alex thought to himself. With the hood of his black My Darkest Days sweater pulled over his head, sunglasses over his eyes, and “Perfect” by, you guessed it, My Darkest Days playing in his ear buds, he was prepared for a long night of shopping at St. Vincent’s Drug Store.

He stepped past the automatic glass door and languidly walked up and down the isles looking for some sweet confectionary goodness to drown his sorrows. In his mind, that was the only thing Valentine’s Day was good for. Not for kisses, not for hugs, but for candy. The taste of a candy cane was much more pleasing to the tongue than a horny woman’s mouth. But candy canes were only a small portion of what he put in his shopping basket. Peanut butter cups, crunchy hearts, chocolate mints, mmm-mmm-mmm!

Alex had been shopping for so long that he lost track of time. He was so focused on the delicious candies in his basket that he failed to notice it when the clerk was calling him out. A tap on the shoulder was a better idea and it actually got Alex’s attention. He pulled the buds out of his ears and turned off his MP3 player before turning his attention to the clerk.

The clerk would have made the perfect Valentine to any lucky guy. Her raven hair flowed down her slender shoulders and her benign smile lit up just about any room she was. She may have been walking around in a clerk’s apron the whole time, but it looked good on her anyways. Her nametag read “Vicki White”, but Alex’s darkened eyes were focused solely on her gorgeous face.

“Hi there!” said Vicki in her excited college girl voice. “Can I help you find anything today?”

“No thanks,” said Alex in an uncaring tone. “I have everything I need right here.”

As the heartbroken shopper turned around to look for even more candy to stockpile, he was interrupted by Vicki calling him, “Sir!” and turned around again. She said, “We don’t allow our customers to conceal their faces in our store. It’s nothing against you personally. In fact, I kind of like that My Darkest Days sweater you’ve got on! It’s just that we’ve been robbed before and we want to make sure everybody visible to the security cameras.”

“Listen, sweetheart,” said the hooded customer. “If you think I’m not capable of paying for these treats, then we can go to the counter right now and I’ll buy them right away. I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the night. I promise.”

“Sir, please just do as I say,” said Vicki while she maintained her sweet grin.

“No, you don’t understand.”

“What do you mean I don’t understand?” Vicki started to say in a flirty voice, perfect for Valentine’s Day. “I bet you look good underneath all of that! Come on, just humor me for a minute.”

From there the two got in an unintelligible conversation as Vicki tried to physically remove Alex’s hood and Alex tried to brush her hands away. In this somewhat playful struggle, Alex leaned backwards slightly to avoid being touched and his hood just slid off of his head. What Vicki saw took the smile right off of her face: a completely bald head with a surgical scar running from where the hairline should be to the back of his skull. The secret was further exposed when the now despondent customer took his sunglasses off and crushed them in his hands, revealing he had no eyebrows.

Vicki White held her trembling hands to her shocked face when she slowly backpedaled into the checkout counter without looking. “Sir, I’m really sorry about that. I was just following protocol. I had to make sure you weren’t suspicious.”

“Protocol, huh?” said Alex McKenzie as he paced up to the counter and dropped his overloaded basket on the scanner. “Did those security cameras get a good enough shot of me?” Vicki trembled in fear and couldn’t respond. “Did your paparazzi get a good shot of the scar on my fucking head? How about the fact that I have no goddamn hair on my head or face? That has to be the shot of the century right there! I’m sure some tabloid magazine will pay good money for that kind of footage!”

As Alex drew closer to her, Vicki sat down in the fetal position and planted her back against the checkout counter. The bald man continued his angry speech. “Brain cancer, sweetheart. Brain cancer. I’ve had it since I was a senior in high school. I’m 100% cancer free now, but I wasn’t back then when it really counted. I looked just like I do now except that I wore a hairpiece to my senior prom.”

He placed a tender hand on Vicki’s vibrating face when he said, “The girl I took to the prom looked a lot like you. Very pretty. No, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She was like an angel that descended from the heavens. Her jealous ex-boyfriend slapped me in the back of the head and knocked my hairpiece off. She saw me for what I really was: a cancer patient. She knew I could have died any moment and decided she didn’t want that on her conscience. So now she has something else on her conscience: breaking up with me the next night. Seeing me die would have been too heartbreaking for her. Seeing me lonely and humiliated, on the other hand, would have been JUST FUCKING DANDY!!”

Alex’s face was in Vicki’s as he stared intensely into her beautiful teary eyes. She was breathing heavily like she was fearing for her life. But as the ex-cancer patient backed up, he revealed himself to be just as harmless as she was, though he wasn’t done yet with his tirade. “Valentine’s Day: a day where we love each other and have mind-blowing sex until the sun comes up. Meanwhile, all the heartbroken single people can go straight to hell for all anyone else cares. I’m buying all that candy because eating is the only thing that gives me pleasure anymore. Sure, it’s not what everybody does on this special day, but it’s pretty damn good to me! So go ahead, honey-bunch: ring me up so I can get my ugly ass out of your store!”

Vicki grabbed onto the counter for support and gingerly pulled herself to a standing position with her legs shaking uncontrollably. She stumbled around the counter to the cash register and started to scan Alex’s items. Her hands were shaking as well and there were times when the price scanner didn’t register. She wasn’t scared for herself anymore. She was scared for this poor soul standing in front of her.

After scanning the same candy cane over and over again, Vicki finally got frustrated and threw it on the ground where it shattered upon impact. She breathed deeply while Alex was watching her with an angry look on his face. She said, “You say you’re 100% cancer free, right? Well, shouldn’t that be something to celebrate? By surviving that horrible disease, you showed your shallow-assed prom date that her stupid decision was all for nothing.” She wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her manicured hand and said, “You’re not ugly to me. You’re beautiful. You’re a warrior. Don’t let anybody tell you differently.”

Alex sarcastically clapped his hands and said, “Well, bravo for you! But there’s just one problem: I don’t believe a goddamn word you say. I think you’re just saying those things because you work in customer service and you don’t want to be fired. Either that, or you suddenly have the urge to feel sorry for me. You don’t have to give me sympathy, or even understanding for that matter. Just ring up my candy and I’ll be the happiest man on earth.”

Vicki picked up a package of peanut butter cups and said, “These are not good for you, especially if you’re trying to stay cancer free. I can’t in all good conscience sell these to you. Hell, I might as well give you a big ass carton of cigarettes to go with these.” A beat of emotional silence fell between them before she said, “But I can give you something else.”

“You had the chance to prove yourself to me and now you won’t even ring me up like you’re supposed to. That’s a hypocrisy if I’ve ever seen one. Seriously, what could you possibly give me right now that would show me how much you care, given the fact that I’ve got the world’s worst scar on the top of my head?!”

Instead of the sweet taste of chocolate and peanut butter, Alex McKenzie got the sweet taste of Vicki White’s lips and tongue as she pulled his face in for a deep, genuine, romantic kiss. Rather than feeling disgusted at Alex’s so-called “ugliness”, Vicki smiled her Hollywood smile for him one more time and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

After a while of intense contemplation, Alex said, “Happy Valentine’s Day” back and properly introduced himself by his first and last name. It was only right that Vicki give such an intense kiss to someone she knew the name of. After all, there would be plenty more where that came from!

Mysterious Writing

Quick question before I begin: does anybody here know what a “whale road” is? When I first heard this term in college, I never once imagined that it could be interpreted as an ocean that Beowulf swam through just for fun. I actually thought it was a dirt road littered with fresh whale corpses that stunk up the place worse than a limburger factory in the middle of a cow pasture. You know what else confused me? “Romeo, Romeo, where art thou Romeo?” “I’m over here, you dumb bitch!” Yes, that’s an actual joke I used in Foe vs. Blade’s medieval fantasy story called Down. These two examples don’t even scratch the surface of what I like to call “mysterious writing”. It’s not to be confused with the mystery genre, which is a legitimate business considering that my first favorite book was a crime thriller called “The Cleaner” by Brett Battles. When I say “mysterious writing”, I mean writing that uses weird descriptors that take way too long to sink in. Shakespeare was the worst offender when it came to mysterious writing. Somewhere in his works is a description where he talks about a wreath being pulled down a metal pole that’s somehow supposed to represent a woman being a slut. Actually, a pole going into a wreath can be construed as sexual, but I don’t think that’s what Shakespeare was going for. In all of his infinite wisdom, he decided that it had to be deeper than a mere Freudian complex. Kids, take this as a lesson not to engage in deep writing unless you actually know what the fuck you’re talking about. Being deep is not the problem; being arrogant and confusing is. I don’t care how many Pulitzer Prizes you win as a result of using awkward descriptions. If you use awkward descriptions, chances are good you suck at writing. But of course, it’s hard to convince somebody of that when they’re making millions of dollars from royalties and living in houses with golden swimming pools in the back. In case you think I’m being mysterious by saying that, I actually mean swimming pools made from melted gold. The lesson you can take away from this blog entry comes in the form of a four-letter acronym known as KISS: Keep It Simple, Stupid. Nobody’s going to think you’re boring if you use a simple writing style. In fact, they may thank you for it in the long run. But if you’re going to be complex, then at least make it accessible to anybody who happens to live in the 21^st Century. I’m not saying you have to LOL at your BFF. In fact, you should never do that under any circumstances!

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

"Cold turkey’s getting stale. Tonight I’m eating crow."

-Green Day singing "Hitchin' a Ride"-