Panic Attack

Like stage fright, except on the city streets

Hyper aware of the death-marching feet

Hyper aware of your own perspiration

Hyper aware of your own condensation

You wish your heart would slow down

As you blindly navigate this neon-lit town

Where’s your car? Did you walk too far?

Did you park too close to the rowdy bar?

Deep breaths in and out, you’ve got this

And then insanity takes off like a rocket

Too many people with judgmental voices

Too many cars with horn-honking noises

A dark alley is better than any of this

A fast food restaurant would be bliss

A hotel lobby to stay for this one night

Until you overcome this crippling fright

Float in the pool, let the water calm you

Watch TV, whatever show you choose

Do you feel safe to go back outside?

Feel comfortable to lock up and hide?

A working day is around the corner

No days off, it’s what the boss orders

Pulling yourself together yet again

Is hard when comfort is easier to defend

Where are your pills? Back at your house?

Only one way to truly find the fuck out

Trapped in a cage like a common thief

Trapped in a mind with paranoid beliefs

Do you need a visit to the emergency room?

Or are you forever trapped in your own doom?

The phone is right there, pull it off the cradle

Put an end to this medieval Grim Dark fable

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m dying inside! It’s of utmost urgency!”

“I’m sending an ambulance to your location”

“Thank you for being good at your vocation”

Counting down the minutes and hours

Until you one day recharge your power

You never know when you’re coming back

Remember the name: it’s called a panic attack

Roger Waters: Us & Them

***BEFORE I BEGIN: GREAT WOLF LODGE***

This past Monday and Tuesday, I was staying at the Great Wolf Lodge in Centralia with my brother James, my niece Reina, and her friend Abby. The indoor water park had some badass slides, to say the least. My Old Yeller moniker was in full effect that day as I flew through those tubes at a million miles an hour. I also liked those buckets of water that kids could dump over our heads once they filled up automatically. It’s the most innocent form of trolling imaginable. But the food, goddamn, all that food. The burger joint across the street had a one-pound burger with four fucking patties, enough cheese to fill an entire dairy farm, and more grease than the water park had water. There were probably enough calories in that meal alone to power The Rock through his six hour workout. All in all, it was an enjoyable trip and a worthy birthday present. And now here’s your feature presentation.

***ROGER WATERS: US & THEM***

This coming Saturday night, former Pink Floyd bassist, singer, and songwriter Roger Waters is going to do a concert at the Tacoma Dome. Like nearly all of his shows before this one, he’s not going to have an opening act. This will be my fourth time seeing him live with my first three times being in 2000 in Portland, 2006 in Seattle, and 2010 at the Tacoma Dome. Roger puts on such elaborate shows that transcend the music itself. It’s never the same concert twice. The giant video screen, the inflatable pig, the laser show, and the pyrotechnics all come together to accompany the always awesome music of Mr. Pink Floyd himself. For this particular concert, he’s supporting a solo album he put out recently called “Is This the Life We Really Want?” I got it for my 32^nd birthday this year and I love every track on the album. I believe it’s the first one of his that received an explicit lyrics warning. Swearison Killy loves his filthy language! As far as creative output goes, I’m going to try and get my WSS contest entry written before Saturday night. Since we’re on the topic of that:

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

TITLE: Dayton Spoke Choir

CHARACTERS:

1.      Laguna Pearman, Charismatic Cult Leader

2.      Matt McQueen, Detective

3.      Caylee McQueen, Matt’s Daughter

PROMPT: Into the Unknown

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Matt doesn’t know what to expect when he enters the church, so he’s definitely diving into the unknown.

SYNOPSIS: Matt takes time off work to rescue his kidnapped daughter. He finds her in an abandoned church, but not the way he wants to. Caylee is singing in a brainwashed choir of kidnapped children led by Laguna. Sickened and infuriated at the same time, Matt won’t hold back when he tries to beat the crap out of Laguna.

EXTRA NOTE: I’m having second thoughts about this one since it sounds eerily similar to a Poison Tongue Tales story I wrote called “Lord of the Crack House”, which involves a detective father trying to free his drug addicted daughter from a boarded up building occupied by a crazy coke dealer. I’ll have to think of some ways to differentiate the two stories before I go in and write it out.

***CONCERT QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Stop letting off fireworks and shouting and screaming! I’m trying to sing a song! I mean, I don’t care! If you don’t want to hear it, you know, fuck you! I’m sure there’re a lot of people here who do want to hear it! So why don’t you just be quiet! If you want to let your fireworks off, go outside and let them off out there! And if you want to shout and scream and holler, go do it outside! I’m trying to sing a song that some people want to listen to! I want to listen to it!”

-Roger Waters-

Seaside Vacation

***SEASIDE VACATION***

From May 3^rd to the 5^th (Wednesday through Friday), I’m headed out to Seaside, Oregon for a vacation with my parents. I’ve been to this city three different times and it never loses its beauty. Dog friendliness, fun beaches, lovely weather, good food, and lots to do; that’s Seaside in a nutshell. During these three days of rest and relaxation, there will be no creative output from me other than reading my book and maybe some photography (which I won’t upload until after I get home). However, since the WSS contests begin every Wednesday with a new prompt, I’ll only be gone until Friday, so that means I have Saturday to recover and Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday to pump out the next chapter of Demon Axe. Keep your fingers crossed that I get to do some writing before the next contest. There will be another vacation I’ll tell you guys about two weeks from the Seaside one, so look forward to that blog entry in the near future. I may be gone, but I’ll always come back and chitchat with my awesome audience. I may even do some of that when I’m using the hotel computer or an internet café. See you later, alligators!

***DEMON AXE, CHAPTER 22***

The novel’s almost over, folks. Just this chapter and an epilogue are all I have left. I don’t want to give away too much of chapter 22 because I ended chapter 21 on a cliffhanger. Roger Zee sees something out in the distance that keeps him from slashing the hell out of our main heroes. If you’ve figured out what this is, then congratulations to you. If you haven’t, enjoy the surprise. Hopefully it won’t translate to a Deus Ex Machina surprise.

***WRESTLING JOKE OF THE DAY***

If John Cena and Nikki Bella ever decide to have a child together and it’s a daughter, they probably shouldn’t name her Tina. Nothing says “Gooker Award Winner” like a grown woman named Tina Cena.

Hawaiian Vacation

This coming Monday morning, I’m headed to the Sea-Tac Airport for a week-long vacation to Hawaii with my aunt Ruth, my step-dad Dale, and my mom. The last time I’ve been to Hawaii was around this time in 2010. Beautiful sunshine, beautiful beaches, beautiful women, and cute cuddly chickens: that’s what Hawaii is all about. I couldn’t ask for a better way to kick back and relax. Because I’ll be busy soaking up the sunshine and petting chickens, my internet time will be limited to short bursts on the hotel computer. That means for the week I’ll be gone, I won’t compete in the corresponding contest at the WSS. But that’s next week. I still have a few more days to submit a story for this week’s contest, which I haven’t decided what I’m going to do just yet. The prompt is “Energy” and lord knows I have a lot of magical story ideas in my archives, but nothing definitive. Before I get too far off track, if you want the exact dates I’ll be gone, the vacation lasts from October 3^rd to October 10^th. Again, this means minimal internet contact and zero creative output, which means the WSS, Demon Axe, Dark Fantasy Warriors, and reading commitments to Marie Krepps will have to wait. But do you know what the best part about vacations is? Coming home to sleep in your own bed with your own kitty while using your own computer. I’ll be back, no doubt about it.

Kill Me or I'll Quit

What a waste of fucking time, said Norman Long in his head. He sat on one of the fluffy couches of the Lion Pie Hotel with his back hunched over and his head hung low. Every once and a while, he would ball up his fist and pound the couch cushion he was sitting on. Anyone who was around him and saw the act of frustration walked a little faster toward wherever they were going, even going so far as to shield their children.

Norman Long had the look of a brooding high school nerd even though he was much older. His black hair was shaggy and unkempt. His beard was out of control as well. His glasses had a hard time staying on the bridge of his nose while he held his head in that position. The black leather jacket, blue jeans, and white Star Wars T-shirt gave off a gothic geek combination to anyone who actually had the stones to judge him at that moment.

“Kill me or I’ll quit!” In the finals of the Magic: the Gathering card game tournament, those were the simple instructions Norman gave to his opponent, Larry Bryce, a middle aged man with a gray and brown ponytail and beard, glasses of his own, and a black Pink Floyd T-shirt with gray jeans and sandals. Peace, love, and understanding was the motto Larry portrayed with his hippie ensemble. In fact, the final match was so peaceful that Norman actually considered falling asleep to show his boredom.

Larry could have finished off this overly drawn out game of Magic: the Gathering anytime he wanted. He had an army of creatures in play and they were much bigger and stronger than Norman’s piddly ass Llanawar Elves. Just one big ass stampede of ogres, orcs, and berserkers and the battlefield would have been covered in elf juice and Norman’s tears. But instead, Larry decided to stall for as long as he could just so he could flaunt his arrogant might. He didn’t kill Norman off in that game. Norman packed up his cards and forfeited the game, leaving the older player with a big fat five thousand dollar check.

Had this been a friendly game, Larry’s sins would have been forgivable in Norman’s eyes. But it was five thousand dollars, which would have been enough to cover his travel and hotel expenses while still having enough to pay his apartment bills back home and get something extra for fun. He could have bought World of Warcraft action figures. A new laptop. An MP3 player with thirty gigabytes of memory. But instead, Norman sat in the hotel lobby with pieces of his broken heart in his hands and a possible eviction notice on the way.

Just when he was ready to burst into a waterfall of tears, he felt a feeble hand pat him gently on the shoulder while the person said, “Good game!” That voice belonged to Larry Bryce, who walked past him only to stop at Norman asking him in an aggressive tone what he said. The defeated MTG player stood up and scowled at Larry with vicious eyebrows and dewy eyeballs.

“Come on, man, it’s just a game. You’re pissed off about a game of Magic?” said Larry.

“Don’t bullshit me, Larry!” grunted Norman, catching the attention of clerks and patrons around him. “You could have ended that game anytime you wanted! Instead you chose the cheap way to win by boring me to tears! Magic games are supposed to be fast-paced and fun! That’s the whole reason I started playing in the first place! Well, guess what, Larry! I’ve played against arrogant nut sacks like you before! And if there are more people like you out there…” Norman pulled his deck of Magic cards out of his jacket pocket and said, “I don’t need this anymore! I quit!” With a basketball like hand motion, he threw his deck into a nearby garbage can.

Larry shook his head no and pulled the deck out of the garbage can. “You know, buddy, if you’re not going to play anymore, then don’t waste a perfectly good deck of cards. There are lots of players in this hotel who would love to have something like this.”

“And once again, you’re so full of shit that you’re bursting at the fucking seams!” shouted Norman with more vigor than before. He speed-walked up to Larry and pulled the deck of cards out of his hands before ripping them into pieces. He then threw the pieces of confetti into Larry’s face and watched him shake his head no yet again.

“Do you have any idea how expensive Magic: the Gathering cards can be? That’s easily hundreds of dollars down the drain, buddy. Look, if you want to have a conniption over a game of Magic, that’s fine with me, but don’t take your anger out on those expensive cards. You wouldn’t rip up the Mona Lisa in a fit of rage, would you?”

Norman smiled psychotically and shook his head before grabbing Larry by his Pink Floyd T-shirt and grunting through gritted teeth, “No, asshole! I’ll rip you up instead!” From there, shoves and punches were thrown between the two Magic players. Several bystanders, including hotel staff, tried to break them up, but they too were met with strikes and shoves. There was even one instance where Norman and Larry both dove over the couch together.

***

In hindsight, fist fighting over a game of Magic (even though five thousand dollars were on the line) was dumber than eating a pepperoni pizza in Israel. In the Paulson City Police Department holding cell, Larry and Norman sat across from each other with hunched over spines and wicked facial expressions. They were the only ones that night who had to cause trouble, thus they were alone together. They could have ripped each other apart that night if it wasn’t for the guard standing at the entrance.

They didn’t speak to each other for a whole half hour before Larry broke the silence with, “Just so you know, you’re going to be serving this jail sentence alone, buddy. I’ve five thousand dollars richer, which means I can post bail. What have you got to show for your rage, huh? You could have sold those Magic cards to a lucky kid and have your bail posted as well. Instead you chose to…”

“Can it, Larry!” interrupted Norman. The tension between the two troublemakers would have had the hotel patrons and staff quaking in their shoes if they were still at the Lion Pie. “You think you’ve got me figured out? You think you know what the hell is going on here? That deck wouldn’t have done anybody good anyways! It lost to yours, right? It didn’t make me five thousand dollars richer, did it?”

“That’s all you care about?” asked Larry when he stood up. “You play Magic: the Gathering for money? It would be a cool professional gig, but that’s not something that would look good on a resume. You know what looks good on a resume? Being a tech support guy for five long years and providing for a wife and two children. That’s what I’m doing with my life. Playing Magic is just for fun. Did you already forget how to have fun?”

“Sure!” yelled Norman as he stood up and put his face in Larry’s. “I’ll have all the fun in the world when I get my ass evicted! I was depending on that five thousand dollars to keep my apartment! Not only am I now going to be homeless, but I have this mental image of you rubbing it in my face during the tournament finals! So from now on, every time I beg someone on the street corner for money, I’m going to see your smiling jackass face handing me a bottle cap or a rusty wing nut!”

“First of all, dingus!” screamed Larry. “You don’t have to worry about being homeless, because you’re going to jail for assault! Second of all, if you were so dependent on rent money that you’d take a chance with a Magic: the Gathering tournament, you might be taken to a nut house instead of jail, because that’s the craziest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of! Only one person could have won that tournament! One person out of God knows how many! Somebody had to win and that someone was me! I’ve got news for you, buddy-boy! There’s always somebody out there who’s going to be better than you! The only reason why I won was because I had the luck of the draw when others didn’t!”

Larry shook his head, chuckled in frustration, and sat back down on the bench. “You took a chance and your chance didn’t pay off. Then again, you shouldn’t expect it to. Magic: the Gathering is based on fairytales. Real life is not, my friend.”

Those harsh, but true words hit Norman like a heavyweight boxer’s punch to the gut. His eyes were sore, his heart was broken yet again, and all he could do was sit on his side of the holding cell and wait for dawn to come. Larry was an arrogant Magic player, but he was right on all levels. This was the fuel Norman would take with him to the dream world that night. He curled up on the bench and hugged himself for warmth. He didn’t want to look at Larry anymore because of what other harsh truths he had in store. No more hammers brought down on Norman. Just sleep. Just a long, dreamless, haunted sleep.

***

The sunshine-filled morning descended upon the police station. No amount of burning light could wake Norman up from his empty slumber. A knight stick rapping the cell door repeatedly, however, was just obnoxious enough to bring Norman Long back into reality. The stiff and sore sleepyhead slowly sat upright in his bench as his eyes adjusted to the morning light. He looked around and thought he was still exhausted when he saw that the cell door was open. It was the furthest thing from a dream, however. “Mr. Norman James Long? You’re free to go.”

Norman formed a confused look on his face before the prison guard said, “What are you waiting for? I said you’re free to go!” The dejected Magic player stood up and trudged out of the holding cell. He was guided to the front desk to collect his personal belongings in a manila envelope. He opened the envelope once he got outside the station and sat down on the concrete stairs to inspect everything.

Glasses? Check. Wallet? Check. Keys? Check. Cell phone? Hell yeah. An ass load of cash? Check. Wait a minute. An ass load of cash? With a note attached to it? What the hell was going on here. Norman unfolded the piece of paper and read it with much clearer eyes than when he exited the station.

“Dear Norman: I have to admit that I acted like an ass back at the Lion Pie Hotel. I’m sorry about that. There’s no excuse for drawing the game out that long and I could tell you were pissed off about it. I posted bail for you and there should be enough cash in this envelope to pay off your rent for the month. If you unwrap the wad of cash, you’ll see something else in there that will bring your hopes up. I’m bailing you out on one condition: you’re getting back into Magic and you and I are going to play more often until you’re good enough to enjoy yourself. Never give up. Never. Yours truly, Larry Bryce.”

Norman pulled the rubber band off of the wad of cash and saw a deck of Magic: the Gathering cards underneath. He looked through them and saw the same hulking ogres and dragons Larry used to defeat him. A tear escaped Norman’s eye and gently splashed the manila envelope. “Thank you, Larry,” he said softly to himself.