***STEAMBOAT SPRINGS VACATION***
This coming Wednesday (September 9th), I’m headed to the airport to begin my family vacation in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I come home from vacation on the 14th of that same month. That means I’ll spend five days in a place that has been described as “beautiful” and “dog friendly” by my mother. I’ve been in lots of places that were beautiful and dog friendly from Monterey Bay, California to Long Beach, Washington to Seaside, Oregon to Victoria, BC, Canada. If Steamboat Springs promises the same thing as those places, I’m in for a relaxing and stress-free vacation, which is the only kind of vacation I’ll do these days.
For all of you internet folk, it means the same thing as every other time I go on vacation: limited internet access and an inability to create new pieces of art whether it’s writing, photography, or drawing. For Deviant Art and Face Book, this means the most activity you’ll get out of me is replying to messages and nothing more. For Good Reads, particularly the WSS Contest, it means I won’t be able to participate in that week’s competition. For Read Together, Blog Together, don’t worry about a thing, because as soon as I get back from vacation, the first thing I’m going to do is read and review “So…I Met a Vampire” by Paul McAvoy. Last and sure as hell not least, Mr. Andy Peloquin, you don’t need to worry about a thing either, because your September 8th guest blog post about music and creativity will go live at midnight that day. Blogger.com allows for delayed posting, so I’m not scrambling to put things together at the last minute.
Just like with all vacations past, present, and future, I will return to the internet and I will get settled back into my daily routine. Try not to laugh when I say “daily routine”. I may be jobless, but that doesn’t mean I sit around with my thumbs in my ass all day long. Hehe! We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***AMERICAN DARKNESS***
If you’re on Deviant Art, you would have noticed several messages in your inbox that are updated short stories from this series. Those recent four stories have been completed and American Darkness is now fully repaired. All I have to do now is put together the .DOC files for Smash Words and Create Space and it’ll be ready to go. Despite the overwhelming numbers of crybaby male characters and bitchy female characters in these short stories, I can say with undying confidence that this version of American Darkness is ten times better than the one currently holding a 2.75 star rating on Good Reads. A big thanks goes to Marie Krepps for being there for me throughout all 50 of those stories. I pay a lot of lip service to that woman, but that goes to show how important a good beta reader is. Hell, I’d build a religious temple with her likeness on it if I wasn’t too lazy for manual labor. Hehe!
***TELEVISION DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***
KRAMER: Things are going pretty well for me here in Hollywood. I met a girl.
JERRY: Kramer, she was murdered.
KRAMER: Yeah, well, I wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship anyways.
-Seinfeld-
Friday, September 4, 2015
Massage
(Spoken in a whisper to gentle bass and electric guitar music.)
VERSE 1
Dancing fingers across my spine
Give me the chills every time
Squeezing the pain out of my neck
Squeezing my shoulders, you are the best
Gentle scrapes across my scalp
Shocks of pleasure will make me melt
Relaxing my muscles into true nirvana
My head is swimming like a puff of marijuana
VERSE 2
Peace and love are the ways of New Age
To ease the pain brought on by rage
To put the past behind and turn a new page
To know the wisdom of a heavenly sage
The simple act of a therapeutic touch
Will mean the world and then so much
Tingling waves of loving pleasure
Take away my moments of pressure
VERSE 3
There’s no need to fear such a gentle gesture
Just reach out with your aching sensors
Physical contact has never been so clean
Releasing serotonin and yummy dopamine
Lie on a table with your body face down
Sit in a chair where paradise is found
The harps and pianos will give you peace
The squeezes and rubs will put you at ease
VERSE 4
When the time comes to rest your head
Do so in the softest and fluffiest of beds
Dream about worlds of great imagination
While the radio’s tuned to the New Age station
Wake up in the morning feeling beautiful
A cup of warm coffee would be suitable
Make another trip to the therapy lodge
Give into the pleasure of a back massage
VERSE 1
Dancing fingers across my spine
Give me the chills every time
Squeezing the pain out of my neck
Squeezing my shoulders, you are the best
Gentle scrapes across my scalp
Shocks of pleasure will make me melt
Relaxing my muscles into true nirvana
My head is swimming like a puff of marijuana
VERSE 2
Peace and love are the ways of New Age
To ease the pain brought on by rage
To put the past behind and turn a new page
To know the wisdom of a heavenly sage
The simple act of a therapeutic touch
Will mean the world and then so much
Tingling waves of loving pleasure
Take away my moments of pressure
VERSE 3
There’s no need to fear such a gentle gesture
Just reach out with your aching sensors
Physical contact has never been so clean
Releasing serotonin and yummy dopamine
Lie on a table with your body face down
Sit in a chair where paradise is found
The harps and pianos will give you peace
The squeezes and rubs will put you at ease
VERSE 4
When the time comes to rest your head
Do so in the softest and fluffiest of beds
Dream about worlds of great imagination
While the radio’s tuned to the New Age station
Wake up in the morning feeling beautiful
A cup of warm coffee would be suitable
Make another trip to the therapy lodge
Give into the pleasure of a back massage
Thursday, September 3, 2015
I, Barbarian
“So your name is Corey Darkside, huh? Is that the name your momma gave you or are you just being cute with me? You wouldn’t happen to be an injun, would you? Either way, missy, it’s time to cut the crap. You’re here for a reason, which happens to be that vagrancy is illegal and you’re being accused of it. You have anything to say for yourself, sweetheart?” said the heavyset Sheriff Ace Hank, who sat across the interrogation table eating a pink-frosted donut and sipping a cup of coffee.
“This is the way you treat your homeless? By locking them up in monkey cages? Even a barbarian like me would be disgusted by the behavior of your world, which is why I prefer living in solitude,” said Corey Darkside, a muscular female warrior dressed in bear skins, furry boots, and metal armor. She looked like she leapt out of the pages of a Dungeons & Dragons player’s handbook.
Ace, on the other hand, thought she looked more like a loony as evidenced by the look of puzzlement on his chubby face, which was now covered in donut sugar. He said, “Listen, lady, I don’t know where you came from or why you decided to wander the streets of my city looking for handouts, but whether you want to believe it or not, you’re in serious shit, my friend. And you’re not doing yourself any favors by arguing vagrancy politics with me. I for one support clean streets and working folk.”
The unimpressed Corey spit at her inquisitor and happened to get vile green fluids in Ace’s coffee. The unhappy sheriff threw the rest of the coffee in the barbarian’s face. The coffee had gone tepid, so it didn’t burn her face that badly, but it still had all of that oral muck Corey shot from her mouth earlier. “Now we’re even, bitch,” said Ace.
The barbarian wiped the snot and coffee off of her face with her bear skin tunic. She said, “I don’t know what kind of information you hope to get from me, but as long as you sit there with your arrogant ways and your disgusting junk food, I shall tell you nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“That’s okay, sweetie pie. I don’t need anything from you. I’m just here to tell you to get ready for a court hearing sooner than later. Until then, my men are going to transport your smelly ass to jail so you can think about what you did.”
“There’s nothing to think about, fat boy. All I did was wander into your town and you’ve shown me how you treat your less desirables. It’s a sad day when barbaric tribes behave better than those who claim to be civilized.”
Ace reached across the table to slap Corey in the mouth, but the steadfast barbarian caught the massive hand and squeezed with a vice grip at the wrist. The sheriff grimaced in pain as he tried to suck it up and free his hand, but the woman’s grip was too powerful. The cop’s fingers began to turn purple when a swarm of other police officers descended upon the interrogation to pull Corey off and restrain her arms and legs.
Miss Darkside thrashed around and screamed in a guttural voice, but the many cops who came to hold her still were too powerful. They even managed to get her wrists behind her back and zip-tie them together while pressing her face-down to the floor.
With the barbaric warrior still howling like an animal, Ace shook off the pain in his hand and wrist and said, “There, are you happy now?! You can add assaulting an officer to the list of charges! Get this crazy bitch out of here! Jail is too good for this renaissance fare freak! She’s going straight to the rubber room where she’ll really have some fun!”
After a count of three, the many police officers hoisted Corey up by her arms and legs and carried her out of the interrogation room. She was still thrashing and screaming, but again, the officers were too powerful for her. It wasn’t until a thunderous bang resounded throughout the police station that the fierce action stopped.
“What the hell was that?!” asked Ace.
Corey managed a smile with razor-sharp teeth and said, “He’s here. He wants to put an end to our rivalry once and for all. If it’s a brawl he wants, it’s a brawl I’m going to give him!”
“Who the fuck are you talking about, lady?” asked Ace.
Even more monstrous bangs blasted throughout the building. The source of the tremors came rushing in like an F5 tornado, slashing and throwing around any police officer who would try to stop him. It wasn’t a mere mortal, but a 7’5” grizzly bear decked out in metal armor and carrying steel claws on his already massive paws. He let out a deafening roar at the officers who were holding Corey, who were then so terrified that they dropped her on the floor and drew their pistols to open fire.
A storm of bullets that powerful would send anybody to heaven. Instead the bullets either deflected off of the bear’s armor or served as a mere annoyance like a fly landing on his fur. “Pathetic! You all are pathetic!” screamed the bear before spinning like a hurricane again and bulldozing the officers into a pile of ripped flesh, bitter blood, and shattered bones. Corey had long gotten out of the line of fire before she too could become worm food.
The bear had his sights set on Sheriff Ace Hank, who was shivering in terror with his eyes wide open while sporting a urine stain on his oversized trousers. With one gigantic paw, the bear lifted Ace in the air and pressed him against the wall before asking in a throaty roar, “Where is she?! Where’s Corey Darkside?! I know that bitch is in here! She fucked with my tribe for the last goddamn time!”
“Sheriff, I want you to meet my rival, Magnus Warcry, leader of the Warcry Nation. Do you want to arrest him for vagrancy too? Well, do you?!” said Corey, who stood next to a pile of dead cops with her arms folded.
Magnus tossed the pudgy sheriff aside and focused all of his attention on Corey, who cracked her knuckles, back, and neck before getting into a martial arts-esque fighting stance. The malevolent bear let out a destructive roar and then charged into his fierce rival, who wasted no time in throwing kicks, punches, knees, and elbows to the bear warrior’s ribs and stomach. These stiff shots rocked the monstrous creature back several steps, but it wasn’t until Corey threw a flying kick to the bear’s face that he was knocked on his back.
Corey jumped up in the air and planted both feet in Magnus’ gut, but the pissed off grizzly smiled a devilish grin at her and grabbed her ankles before standing up and spinning her around in a dizzying circle. The circular pressure made Corey so nauseous that she projectile vomited right in her opponent’s face, causing the big guy to drop her near one of the cops’ desks.
The human warrior was exhausted and was ready to pass out at any moment while the bear warrior, who just wiped the puke off of his face with his paw, was still ready to go. He even let out a battle cry that was so loud it could have waked the dead. But still there were cop corpses lying around everywhere bathed in blood and broken beyond repair.
The one cop who decided this vagrancy case was too important fired a shotgun blast right into Magnus’ ribcage. Hell yeah it hurt, but no more than a bee sting or spider bite. Instead of being in tremendous pain, Magnus just looked annoyed as he stared down Ace Hank with the intent to rip him to shreds.
As Ace shook while keeping the shotgun trained on the bear, Magnus Warcry said to Corey Darkside, “You know what, babe? I think I may have found someone who’s more of an asshole than you.”
The human barbarian was just coming around when she said, “Tell me about it. This guy cares more about his stupid vagrancy laws than he does about the people he’s paid to protect. Hey Magnus, I got a proposition for you.” She stood up and shook off her battle wounds. “What do you say we call a temporary peace between our tribes and instead beat the shit out of this guy. Hell, we can tear down his building for all I care. Truce?”
After Corey Darkside extended her hand, Magnus reluctantly shook it, but the mutual agreement was there nonetheless. He even said, “Don’t forget, woman, this is a temporary peace. Now let’s beat some ass!”
Ace Hank was terrified by what he just saw: two vagrant barbarians agreeing on the fact that he deserves to die and this building deserves to burn. He tried to aim the shotgun, but his hands were convulsing too hard to keep his grip and he eventually dropped it. He turned around and tried to run away, but his shaky legs and overweight body kept him from getting too far. He even stumbled over the dead body of one of his coworkers and just laid face down crying his eyes out and begging for forgiveness.
With Magnus grabbing Ace’s wrists and Corey grabbing the sheriff’s ankles, the bear warrior said, “On the count of three, were rip this chubby piece of garbage in half! One! Two! THREE!!”
RIP!!
“This is the way you treat your homeless? By locking them up in monkey cages? Even a barbarian like me would be disgusted by the behavior of your world, which is why I prefer living in solitude,” said Corey Darkside, a muscular female warrior dressed in bear skins, furry boots, and metal armor. She looked like she leapt out of the pages of a Dungeons & Dragons player’s handbook.
Ace, on the other hand, thought she looked more like a loony as evidenced by the look of puzzlement on his chubby face, which was now covered in donut sugar. He said, “Listen, lady, I don’t know where you came from or why you decided to wander the streets of my city looking for handouts, but whether you want to believe it or not, you’re in serious shit, my friend. And you’re not doing yourself any favors by arguing vagrancy politics with me. I for one support clean streets and working folk.”
The unimpressed Corey spit at her inquisitor and happened to get vile green fluids in Ace’s coffee. The unhappy sheriff threw the rest of the coffee in the barbarian’s face. The coffee had gone tepid, so it didn’t burn her face that badly, but it still had all of that oral muck Corey shot from her mouth earlier. “Now we’re even, bitch,” said Ace.
The barbarian wiped the snot and coffee off of her face with her bear skin tunic. She said, “I don’t know what kind of information you hope to get from me, but as long as you sit there with your arrogant ways and your disgusting junk food, I shall tell you nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“That’s okay, sweetie pie. I don’t need anything from you. I’m just here to tell you to get ready for a court hearing sooner than later. Until then, my men are going to transport your smelly ass to jail so you can think about what you did.”
“There’s nothing to think about, fat boy. All I did was wander into your town and you’ve shown me how you treat your less desirables. It’s a sad day when barbaric tribes behave better than those who claim to be civilized.”
Ace reached across the table to slap Corey in the mouth, but the steadfast barbarian caught the massive hand and squeezed with a vice grip at the wrist. The sheriff grimaced in pain as he tried to suck it up and free his hand, but the woman’s grip was too powerful. The cop’s fingers began to turn purple when a swarm of other police officers descended upon the interrogation to pull Corey off and restrain her arms and legs.
Miss Darkside thrashed around and screamed in a guttural voice, but the many cops who came to hold her still were too powerful. They even managed to get her wrists behind her back and zip-tie them together while pressing her face-down to the floor.
With the barbaric warrior still howling like an animal, Ace shook off the pain in his hand and wrist and said, “There, are you happy now?! You can add assaulting an officer to the list of charges! Get this crazy bitch out of here! Jail is too good for this renaissance fare freak! She’s going straight to the rubber room where she’ll really have some fun!”
After a count of three, the many police officers hoisted Corey up by her arms and legs and carried her out of the interrogation room. She was still thrashing and screaming, but again, the officers were too powerful for her. It wasn’t until a thunderous bang resounded throughout the police station that the fierce action stopped.
“What the hell was that?!” asked Ace.
Corey managed a smile with razor-sharp teeth and said, “He’s here. He wants to put an end to our rivalry once and for all. If it’s a brawl he wants, it’s a brawl I’m going to give him!”
“Who the fuck are you talking about, lady?” asked Ace.
Even more monstrous bangs blasted throughout the building. The source of the tremors came rushing in like an F5 tornado, slashing and throwing around any police officer who would try to stop him. It wasn’t a mere mortal, but a 7’5” grizzly bear decked out in metal armor and carrying steel claws on his already massive paws. He let out a deafening roar at the officers who were holding Corey, who were then so terrified that they dropped her on the floor and drew their pistols to open fire.
A storm of bullets that powerful would send anybody to heaven. Instead the bullets either deflected off of the bear’s armor or served as a mere annoyance like a fly landing on his fur. “Pathetic! You all are pathetic!” screamed the bear before spinning like a hurricane again and bulldozing the officers into a pile of ripped flesh, bitter blood, and shattered bones. Corey had long gotten out of the line of fire before she too could become worm food.
The bear had his sights set on Sheriff Ace Hank, who was shivering in terror with his eyes wide open while sporting a urine stain on his oversized trousers. With one gigantic paw, the bear lifted Ace in the air and pressed him against the wall before asking in a throaty roar, “Where is she?! Where’s Corey Darkside?! I know that bitch is in here! She fucked with my tribe for the last goddamn time!”
“Sheriff, I want you to meet my rival, Magnus Warcry, leader of the Warcry Nation. Do you want to arrest him for vagrancy too? Well, do you?!” said Corey, who stood next to a pile of dead cops with her arms folded.
Magnus tossed the pudgy sheriff aside and focused all of his attention on Corey, who cracked her knuckles, back, and neck before getting into a martial arts-esque fighting stance. The malevolent bear let out a destructive roar and then charged into his fierce rival, who wasted no time in throwing kicks, punches, knees, and elbows to the bear warrior’s ribs and stomach. These stiff shots rocked the monstrous creature back several steps, but it wasn’t until Corey threw a flying kick to the bear’s face that he was knocked on his back.
Corey jumped up in the air and planted both feet in Magnus’ gut, but the pissed off grizzly smiled a devilish grin at her and grabbed her ankles before standing up and spinning her around in a dizzying circle. The circular pressure made Corey so nauseous that she projectile vomited right in her opponent’s face, causing the big guy to drop her near one of the cops’ desks.
The human warrior was exhausted and was ready to pass out at any moment while the bear warrior, who just wiped the puke off of his face with his paw, was still ready to go. He even let out a battle cry that was so loud it could have waked the dead. But still there were cop corpses lying around everywhere bathed in blood and broken beyond repair.
The one cop who decided this vagrancy case was too important fired a shotgun blast right into Magnus’ ribcage. Hell yeah it hurt, but no more than a bee sting or spider bite. Instead of being in tremendous pain, Magnus just looked annoyed as he stared down Ace Hank with the intent to rip him to shreds.
As Ace shook while keeping the shotgun trained on the bear, Magnus Warcry said to Corey Darkside, “You know what, babe? I think I may have found someone who’s more of an asshole than you.”
The human barbarian was just coming around when she said, “Tell me about it. This guy cares more about his stupid vagrancy laws than he does about the people he’s paid to protect. Hey Magnus, I got a proposition for you.” She stood up and shook off her battle wounds. “What do you say we call a temporary peace between our tribes and instead beat the shit out of this guy. Hell, we can tear down his building for all I care. Truce?”
After Corey Darkside extended her hand, Magnus reluctantly shook it, but the mutual agreement was there nonetheless. He even said, “Don’t forget, woman, this is a temporary peace. Now let’s beat some ass!”
Ace Hank was terrified by what he just saw: two vagrant barbarians agreeing on the fact that he deserves to die and this building deserves to burn. He tried to aim the shotgun, but his hands were convulsing too hard to keep his grip and he eventually dropped it. He turned around and tried to run away, but his shaky legs and overweight body kept him from getting too far. He even stumbled over the dead body of one of his coworkers and just laid face down crying his eyes out and begging for forgiveness.
With Magnus grabbing Ace’s wrists and Corey grabbing the sheriff’s ankles, the bear warrior said, “On the count of three, were rip this chubby piece of garbage in half! One! Two! THREE!!”
RIP!!
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Creative Fuel For Kids
***CREATIVE FUEL FOR KIDS***
When I was a kid and I got in trouble, I made no mention of the media I liked because if I did, that particular medium would get taken away from me. I’m sure we can all relate to this in one way or another. Let’s say for instance you and your older brother wanted to practice martial arts. One of you gets injured, so what do the parents do? They take away your Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee movies. As a kid, you keep insisting that those movies don’t make you act the way you do and there may be some truth to that.
However, there’s also a truth to the ratings they put on TV shows, movies, and videogames. If a seven-year-old watches the Faces of Death documentary from the late 1970’s, then he’ll grow up thinking those graphic images are a normal part of life. In some ways they are, but that mentality takes away from the beauty that life can become. That’s not to say that movies turn kids into murderous sociopaths, because that’s a stretch. Those same movies do however define normality for those kids for the rest of their lives.
Take me for instance. I didn’t become a fan of WWE until I was six years old and at that age, I didn’t want to believe it was scripted and that wasn’t how people fought in real life. Over the years, WWE started incorporating more disgusting storylines that involved racism, sexism, sexuality, and humiliation. I watched all of that until my mom banned wrestling from the house for the foreseeable future.
But that didn’t stop me from finding other sources of creative fuel that were to my liking. I watched Pulp Fiction when I was 11 and didn’t question any of that movie. I had it in my mind that you didn’t have to be a racist in order to use racial slurs. Boy, was I wrong. I watched Clerks when I was 13 and thought the words “cock” and “cunt” were exclusive to that movie. I was wrong again.
And then I was 14 years old when I watched my first soft-core porn movie. It was called Playtime and focused on female masturbation. Ever since watching that horny movie, I started looking for internet porn and somehow thought sticking a ball gag in a girl’s mouth and sucking her feet was an instant turn-on. It’s not. In fact, most girls I know think that’s weird.
So let’s take an inventory of all the horrible things I thought were normal: violence as a solution to everyday problems, women dressing in skimpy clothing, racial slurs with no racism behind them (or so I thought), instant lesbianism, gay jokes in public places, god knows what else. Good thing I’m not a sociopath or else this would have been a really destructive life.
In spite of all the misconceptions of what acceptability was, I’d like to think I’ve always been on the benevolent side of the spectrum. I got in so many fights in high school not because I was a psychopath, but because I wanted to end bullying and injustice. Ending those things is admirable on any level. So at best, my intentions were always pure, but my methods were questionable. Cussing out internet folk to end trolling? Doesn’t work. Using ball gags and duct tape during an internet version of “making love”? Doesn’t work without consent. Using the word “faggot” because Immortal Technique used it liberally despite being a leftist? Yeah, not going to happen.
I’m not trying to convey the message that media makes small children into school shooters. It doesn’t. It does however set the standards for what children perceive as normal and justified as they grow up into adults. Children absorb everything like a sponge. And I do mean everything. They don’t develop a strong filter for bullshit until they’re teenagers, where they rebel against everything that doesn’t agree with their lifestyles.
I suppose you could blame parents for allowing kids to see things they shouldn’t, but that’s not necessarily true. Kids today have access to materials that can be hidden from even the most watchful parent’s view. Even if parents could monitor their children 24/7 (which they can’t), kids can be sneaky and venture into worlds that nobody else can stop them from seeing.
Frankly, I’m more concerned about parents who abuse their children instead of parents who fail to catch their children watching a bloody kung fu flick. I was fortunate enough to have loving parents and a healthy childhood. No school shootings or other criminal behavior here. In fact, I have no criminal record at all, so that’s one less thing I have to worry about.
I was bound to have a wakeup call sooner or later on what was decent and what wasn’t. In the summer of 2014, I wrote an erotic short story for the WSS called “Tainted Love”, where the female protagonist was bound and gagged by a complete stranger and loved every minute of it. I’ve never felt so ashamed of myself in my life. No woman in her right mind would ever think being kidnapped by a criminal is sexy. But that’s what maturity is all about: having experiences, learning from the mistakes, and chipping away at the rough edges to make a beautiful sculpture.
I’ve said enough for today. I welcome all viewpoints and talking points as long as they’re decent and maturely presented. We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTEST AND COMPANY***
The new week started yesterday and the theme is “homeless”. My story, should I get around to writing it, will be called “I, Barbarian”. Yes, I get stereotyped by my family a lot for writing barbarian stories, so if you have a joke, let it out now or forever hold your peace. The story goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
Magnus Warcry, Bear Barbarian
Corey Darkside, Human Barbarian
Ace Hank, Sheriff
PROMPT CONFORMITY: Corey is being accused of vagrancy, which is defined as wandering around without a permanent address (aka being homeless).
SYNOPSIS: Ace brings Corey to the police station on charges of vagrancy and resisting arrest. While he’s interrogating her, she insists that her barbarian gimmick isn’t an act and that Magnus Warcry must be defeated. Ace is contemplating sending Corey to a mental institution when Magnus shows up to the police station and starts mauling everything and everyone in sight. Not only is Corey Darkside not crazy after all, but she might be Paulson City’s only hope in this battle of primitive warriors.
***AMERICAN DARKNESS***
Yes, I know you all were expecting three more edited short stories, but they won’t get here today or even tomorrow. I took a one-day vacation from editing today so that I could catch up on my reading obligations to Edward Davies, Paul McAvoy, and Daniel Bryan. I’ll probably take another one-day vacation so that I can concentrate on “I, Barbarian”. I can take as many vacations as I want, so suck it. Besides, I only have four more stories from American Darkness to edit, so I’ve pretty much got this in the bag.
***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“Ladies, at least one time in your man’s life (at least once, don’t let him lie), he has stood in front a full-length mirror absolutely naked and he tucked his dick between his legs to see what he’d look like as a woman. And men, if you haven’t done that yet, you will now that I’ve mentioned it.”
-Tommy Blaine-
When I was a kid and I got in trouble, I made no mention of the media I liked because if I did, that particular medium would get taken away from me. I’m sure we can all relate to this in one way or another. Let’s say for instance you and your older brother wanted to practice martial arts. One of you gets injured, so what do the parents do? They take away your Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee movies. As a kid, you keep insisting that those movies don’t make you act the way you do and there may be some truth to that.
However, there’s also a truth to the ratings they put on TV shows, movies, and videogames. If a seven-year-old watches the Faces of Death documentary from the late 1970’s, then he’ll grow up thinking those graphic images are a normal part of life. In some ways they are, but that mentality takes away from the beauty that life can become. That’s not to say that movies turn kids into murderous sociopaths, because that’s a stretch. Those same movies do however define normality for those kids for the rest of their lives.
Take me for instance. I didn’t become a fan of WWE until I was six years old and at that age, I didn’t want to believe it was scripted and that wasn’t how people fought in real life. Over the years, WWE started incorporating more disgusting storylines that involved racism, sexism, sexuality, and humiliation. I watched all of that until my mom banned wrestling from the house for the foreseeable future.
But that didn’t stop me from finding other sources of creative fuel that were to my liking. I watched Pulp Fiction when I was 11 and didn’t question any of that movie. I had it in my mind that you didn’t have to be a racist in order to use racial slurs. Boy, was I wrong. I watched Clerks when I was 13 and thought the words “cock” and “cunt” were exclusive to that movie. I was wrong again.
And then I was 14 years old when I watched my first soft-core porn movie. It was called Playtime and focused on female masturbation. Ever since watching that horny movie, I started looking for internet porn and somehow thought sticking a ball gag in a girl’s mouth and sucking her feet was an instant turn-on. It’s not. In fact, most girls I know think that’s weird.
So let’s take an inventory of all the horrible things I thought were normal: violence as a solution to everyday problems, women dressing in skimpy clothing, racial slurs with no racism behind them (or so I thought), instant lesbianism, gay jokes in public places, god knows what else. Good thing I’m not a sociopath or else this would have been a really destructive life.
In spite of all the misconceptions of what acceptability was, I’d like to think I’ve always been on the benevolent side of the spectrum. I got in so many fights in high school not because I was a psychopath, but because I wanted to end bullying and injustice. Ending those things is admirable on any level. So at best, my intentions were always pure, but my methods were questionable. Cussing out internet folk to end trolling? Doesn’t work. Using ball gags and duct tape during an internet version of “making love”? Doesn’t work without consent. Using the word “faggot” because Immortal Technique used it liberally despite being a leftist? Yeah, not going to happen.
I’m not trying to convey the message that media makes small children into school shooters. It doesn’t. It does however set the standards for what children perceive as normal and justified as they grow up into adults. Children absorb everything like a sponge. And I do mean everything. They don’t develop a strong filter for bullshit until they’re teenagers, where they rebel against everything that doesn’t agree with their lifestyles.
I suppose you could blame parents for allowing kids to see things they shouldn’t, but that’s not necessarily true. Kids today have access to materials that can be hidden from even the most watchful parent’s view. Even if parents could monitor their children 24/7 (which they can’t), kids can be sneaky and venture into worlds that nobody else can stop them from seeing.
Frankly, I’m more concerned about parents who abuse their children instead of parents who fail to catch their children watching a bloody kung fu flick. I was fortunate enough to have loving parents and a healthy childhood. No school shootings or other criminal behavior here. In fact, I have no criminal record at all, so that’s one less thing I have to worry about.
I was bound to have a wakeup call sooner or later on what was decent and what wasn’t. In the summer of 2014, I wrote an erotic short story for the WSS called “Tainted Love”, where the female protagonist was bound and gagged by a complete stranger and loved every minute of it. I’ve never felt so ashamed of myself in my life. No woman in her right mind would ever think being kidnapped by a criminal is sexy. But that’s what maturity is all about: having experiences, learning from the mistakes, and chipping away at the rough edges to make a beautiful sculpture.
I’ve said enough for today. I welcome all viewpoints and talking points as long as they’re decent and maturely presented. We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTEST AND COMPANY***
The new week started yesterday and the theme is “homeless”. My story, should I get around to writing it, will be called “I, Barbarian”. Yes, I get stereotyped by my family a lot for writing barbarian stories, so if you have a joke, let it out now or forever hold your peace. The story goes like this:
CHARACTERS:
Magnus Warcry, Bear Barbarian
Corey Darkside, Human Barbarian
Ace Hank, Sheriff
PROMPT CONFORMITY: Corey is being accused of vagrancy, which is defined as wandering around without a permanent address (aka being homeless).
SYNOPSIS: Ace brings Corey to the police station on charges of vagrancy and resisting arrest. While he’s interrogating her, she insists that her barbarian gimmick isn’t an act and that Magnus Warcry must be defeated. Ace is contemplating sending Corey to a mental institution when Magnus shows up to the police station and starts mauling everything and everyone in sight. Not only is Corey Darkside not crazy after all, but she might be Paulson City’s only hope in this battle of primitive warriors.
***AMERICAN DARKNESS***
Yes, I know you all were expecting three more edited short stories, but they won’t get here today or even tomorrow. I took a one-day vacation from editing today so that I could catch up on my reading obligations to Edward Davies, Paul McAvoy, and Daniel Bryan. I’ll probably take another one-day vacation so that I can concentrate on “I, Barbarian”. I can take as many vacations as I want, so suck it. Besides, I only have four more stories from American Darkness to edit, so I’ve pretty much got this in the bag.
***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***
“Ladies, at least one time in your man’s life (at least once, don’t let him lie), he has stood in front a full-length mirror absolutely naked and he tucked his dick between his legs to see what he’d look like as a woman. And men, if you haven’t done that yet, you will now that I’ve mentioned it.”
-Tommy Blaine-
WWE NXT Rival: Hideo Itami vs. Tyler Breeze
MATCH: Hideo Itami vs. Tyler Breeze
PROMOTION: WWE NXT
EVENT: Rival
YEAR: 2015
RATING: TV-PG for violence
GRADE: Pass
Hideo Itami signing with WWE was a long time coming. In Japan, Itami, then known as KENTA, was a staple of his home country’s pro-wrestling. The number of championships and awards he won while wrestling in Japan is absolutely ridiculous. The Wrestling Observer Newsletter readership took a huge liking to him since he won Best Wrestling Maneuver in 2006 and 2007 (Go 2 Sleep) and was one half of the Tag Team of the Year in 2003 and 2004. The award-winning move known as the Go 2 Sleep is a fireman’s carry into a knockout knee to the face.
CM Punk used that move to win multiple world championships in the WWE from 2006 to 2014 when he retired from wrestling. Another KENTA move that was used by a WWE superstar was the Busaiku Knee, which is basically a running knee to the opponent’s face (he sure loves kneeing people in the face). Daniel Bryan, who’s been with the WWE since 2010, uses the Busaiku Knee as his finishing move and won many world championships himself with that move. The newly christened Hideo Itami was a godsend to WWE NXT.
One NXT staple who didn’t exactly greet Mr. Itami with a warm welcome was Tyler Breeze. After Hideo Itami had a successful feud with The Ascension (Konnor and Viktor), he and Tyler Breeze were part of a tournament to determine the number one contender for the NXT Championship, which at the time was held by Sami Zayn. Itami and Breeze’s first encounter together was in the quarterfinals of that tournament. Hideo won in convincing fashion, but was defeated in the semifinals by longtime friend Finn Balor (formerly known as Prince Devitt in Japan).
The “Hero of Pain” wasn’t sour at all about losing to Finn Balor. He was sour, however, when Tyler Breeze beat him up in the locker room shortly after conducting an interview with Devin Taylor. Tyler, who had been hanging around in number one contender situations for a long time now, was sickened that an “uggo” like Hideo Itami would keep him from another crack at the NXT Title. And now we’ve got a rivalry that needs to be settled. What better place to settle it than NXT Takeover: Rival?
From the beginning of this match, it was highly apparent that Tyler Breeze and Hideo Itami learned a lot about each other after their first match. They countered pretty much every move they could throw at each other and did so in an intelligent and athletic fashion. Remember, these two wrestlers are known for their speed, agility, and technique. If they’re going to move away from each other’s moves, they’re going to do so like a bolt of lightning. The feeling out process was fast and furious, which is weird for a feeling out process.
And then Tyler Breeze got the idea to target Hideo Itami’s legs. The Japanese superstar was at one time an amateur kick boxer, so when he kicks you, you’re going to feel it until the grave. Hell, it might be an early grave if he kicks you in the right place. Twisting Hideo’s legs in painful submission holds, dropping knees and elbows on them, even the occasional Dragon Screw (which is throwing someone down by their calf muscles) came off as intelligent strategy by Tyler Breeze. There was even one point in the match when Tyler not only slammed Hideo’s knees against the ring post, but also performed a Figure Four Leg Lock on them with the steel ring post as the fulcrum between Hideo’s legs and his groin. Ouch!
But if there’s one thing about Hideo Itami fans of Japanese wrestling know, it’s that no matter how savagely beaten up he is, his opponents will never take away his warrior spirit. If you had to spend years on end training for six hours a day in a wrestling dojo and then having to scrub down the gym, do laundry, and cook meals for the experienced wrestlers, you’d have a hard time giving up your warrior spirit as well (that is, if you don’t quit your first day).
Even with one injured leg after Tyler Breeze’s constant aggression, Hideo Itami still found the resolve to throw disgustingly strong kicks. And when Hideo threw them, Tyler sold them to perfection. “Prince Pretty” flew around the ring and grimaced in severe pain after each strike. Then again, even if you’re a wrestler who no-sells all of your opponents, you pretty much have no choice after taking a kick to the ribs, legs, and head. Even a lower corner drop kick is hard to regain oxygen from. And then we had the exciting finish to this match in the books: Hideo Itami knocking Tyler Breeze loopy with a single leg dropkick appropriately known as the Shotgun Kick. One, two, three, and your winner is Hideo Itami in a match that could be accused of stealing the entire show.
Ever since that historic badass match, Hideo and Tyler continued to feud over the number one contender status of the NXT Championship, which was taken away from Sami Zayn at Takeover: Rival by 300-lb. Canadian juggernaut Kevin Owens. Some matches Tyler Breeze won while others Hideo Itami won. There was supposed to be a triple threat number one contender’s match at NXT Takeover: Unstoppable between Breeze, Itami, and Finn Balor. The match was watered down to a one-on-one battle when Hideo Itami suffered a serious shoulder injury that would keep him out for six to eight months.
If you haven’t learned anything about Hideo Itami from watching Japanese wrestling, then you should have learned something from watching him on NXT programming on the WWE Network. This guy doesn’t quit for anything. You can punch him, kick him, break every bone in his body, but as long as he still has the tiniest puff of breath in his lungs, he’ll never give up. A shoulder injury is just another obstacle for him to conquer, which he’ll no doubt do in convincing fashion. The rise of the Japanese warrior has only begun. Konnor and Viktor of The Ascension were the first to fall. Tyler Breeze was the second. When Hideo Itami returns to action, there will be a third.
PROMOTION: WWE NXT
EVENT: Rival
YEAR: 2015
RATING: TV-PG for violence
GRADE: Pass
Hideo Itami signing with WWE was a long time coming. In Japan, Itami, then known as KENTA, was a staple of his home country’s pro-wrestling. The number of championships and awards he won while wrestling in Japan is absolutely ridiculous. The Wrestling Observer Newsletter readership took a huge liking to him since he won Best Wrestling Maneuver in 2006 and 2007 (Go 2 Sleep) and was one half of the Tag Team of the Year in 2003 and 2004. The award-winning move known as the Go 2 Sleep is a fireman’s carry into a knockout knee to the face.
CM Punk used that move to win multiple world championships in the WWE from 2006 to 2014 when he retired from wrestling. Another KENTA move that was used by a WWE superstar was the Busaiku Knee, which is basically a running knee to the opponent’s face (he sure loves kneeing people in the face). Daniel Bryan, who’s been with the WWE since 2010, uses the Busaiku Knee as his finishing move and won many world championships himself with that move. The newly christened Hideo Itami was a godsend to WWE NXT.
One NXT staple who didn’t exactly greet Mr. Itami with a warm welcome was Tyler Breeze. After Hideo Itami had a successful feud with The Ascension (Konnor and Viktor), he and Tyler Breeze were part of a tournament to determine the number one contender for the NXT Championship, which at the time was held by Sami Zayn. Itami and Breeze’s first encounter together was in the quarterfinals of that tournament. Hideo won in convincing fashion, but was defeated in the semifinals by longtime friend Finn Balor (formerly known as Prince Devitt in Japan).
The “Hero of Pain” wasn’t sour at all about losing to Finn Balor. He was sour, however, when Tyler Breeze beat him up in the locker room shortly after conducting an interview with Devin Taylor. Tyler, who had been hanging around in number one contender situations for a long time now, was sickened that an “uggo” like Hideo Itami would keep him from another crack at the NXT Title. And now we’ve got a rivalry that needs to be settled. What better place to settle it than NXT Takeover: Rival?
From the beginning of this match, it was highly apparent that Tyler Breeze and Hideo Itami learned a lot about each other after their first match. They countered pretty much every move they could throw at each other and did so in an intelligent and athletic fashion. Remember, these two wrestlers are known for their speed, agility, and technique. If they’re going to move away from each other’s moves, they’re going to do so like a bolt of lightning. The feeling out process was fast and furious, which is weird for a feeling out process.
And then Tyler Breeze got the idea to target Hideo Itami’s legs. The Japanese superstar was at one time an amateur kick boxer, so when he kicks you, you’re going to feel it until the grave. Hell, it might be an early grave if he kicks you in the right place. Twisting Hideo’s legs in painful submission holds, dropping knees and elbows on them, even the occasional Dragon Screw (which is throwing someone down by their calf muscles) came off as intelligent strategy by Tyler Breeze. There was even one point in the match when Tyler not only slammed Hideo’s knees against the ring post, but also performed a Figure Four Leg Lock on them with the steel ring post as the fulcrum between Hideo’s legs and his groin. Ouch!
But if there’s one thing about Hideo Itami fans of Japanese wrestling know, it’s that no matter how savagely beaten up he is, his opponents will never take away his warrior spirit. If you had to spend years on end training for six hours a day in a wrestling dojo and then having to scrub down the gym, do laundry, and cook meals for the experienced wrestlers, you’d have a hard time giving up your warrior spirit as well (that is, if you don’t quit your first day).
Even with one injured leg after Tyler Breeze’s constant aggression, Hideo Itami still found the resolve to throw disgustingly strong kicks. And when Hideo threw them, Tyler sold them to perfection. “Prince Pretty” flew around the ring and grimaced in severe pain after each strike. Then again, even if you’re a wrestler who no-sells all of your opponents, you pretty much have no choice after taking a kick to the ribs, legs, and head. Even a lower corner drop kick is hard to regain oxygen from. And then we had the exciting finish to this match in the books: Hideo Itami knocking Tyler Breeze loopy with a single leg dropkick appropriately known as the Shotgun Kick. One, two, three, and your winner is Hideo Itami in a match that could be accused of stealing the entire show.
Ever since that historic badass match, Hideo and Tyler continued to feud over the number one contender status of the NXT Championship, which was taken away from Sami Zayn at Takeover: Rival by 300-lb. Canadian juggernaut Kevin Owens. Some matches Tyler Breeze won while others Hideo Itami won. There was supposed to be a triple threat number one contender’s match at NXT Takeover: Unstoppable between Breeze, Itami, and Finn Balor. The match was watered down to a one-on-one battle when Hideo Itami suffered a serious shoulder injury that would keep him out for six to eight months.
If you haven’t learned anything about Hideo Itami from watching Japanese wrestling, then you should have learned something from watching him on NXT programming on the WWE Network. This guy doesn’t quit for anything. You can punch him, kick him, break every bone in his body, but as long as he still has the tiniest puff of breath in his lungs, he’ll never give up. A shoulder injury is just another obstacle for him to conquer, which he’ll no doubt do in convincing fashion. The rise of the Japanese warrior has only begun. Konnor and Viktor of The Ascension were the first to fall. Tyler Breeze was the second. When Hideo Itami returns to action, there will be a third.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Pet Names
***PET NAMES***
When going to the Humane Society to adopt a pet, there are certain things a future animal owner looks for. Sometimes age plays a factor. Species is another important one. Friendliness with other animals is a must. But did you ever figure that an animal’s given name would have any effect on his or her adoptability? Because most of the animals are taken from the streets, they don’t already have names assigned to them. Therefore, the Humane Society does that for them. Some of the names are cute and cuddly (Oswald, Ozzy, Tori, and Sitka can all attest to that). And then there are names which are so fucking weird that nobody bothers to adopt that animal. It’s sad and unfortunate, but it’s true. Would anybody adopt a kitty named Boompsa? Admiral Akbar? Sniper? Killer? What the fuck, man? So in this journal, I’m going to give you all ideas for pet names that aren’t too fruity or too weird. They’re just right and if they don’t feel right yet, you’ll get used to them over time. Starting with….
MALE:
Adam
Albert
Angelo
Barry
Biggie
Billy
Blake
Bo
Bray
Buddy
Caesar
Calvin
Chuck
Clay
Connor
Cooper
Dallas
Damien
Danny
Diego
Drake
Duncan
Dusty
Eddy
Finn
Frankie
Fred
George
Gerald
Henry
Howie
Jack
Jake
Jerry
Jimmy
Joey
Josh
Kingston
Larry
Louie
Luke
Mac
Marty
Mickey
Mojo
Monty
Nacho
Neville
Norman
Oscar
Owen
Pete
Randy
Ricky
Rocky
Sammy
Scotty
Seamus
Shadow
Simon
Sunny
Sylvester
Thomas
Titus
Tony
Tucker
Tyler
Victor
Woody
Wyatt
FEMALE:
Bailey
Becky
Bella
Brie
Cammy
Carmella
Charlie
Cherry
Cookie
Emma
Eva
Harper
Hattie
Jasmine
Jeanie
Jordan
Kelly
Lana
Lexi
Lilly
Marie
Mattie
Murphy
Naomi
Natalie
Nikki
Paige
Patty
Riley
Rosie
Sasha
Summer
We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***UPDATED CREATIVE TASK LIST***
EDITING TIMELINE:
September 1stt: Teach Me Passion, Twice the Cuteness, Walkabout
September 2nd: War Is My Destiny, Wendell Backland, Wishes in the Night
September 3rd: Wrestle Maniac, Format E-Book, Replace Old Copies with New One
READING PRIORITIES:
“The Girlfriend Wager” by Edward Davies
“So…I Met a Vampire” by Paul McAvoy
Weekly Short Story Contest and Company: “Flea Market”
“YES!” by Daniel Bryan
WRITING PRIORITIES:
Blood Brawl: “Chapter 2”
Character Profile: “Cain Lockhart”
Movie or TV Show Review: “Dennis the Menace”
***PROVERB OF THE DAY***
“Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”
When going to the Humane Society to adopt a pet, there are certain things a future animal owner looks for. Sometimes age plays a factor. Species is another important one. Friendliness with other animals is a must. But did you ever figure that an animal’s given name would have any effect on his or her adoptability? Because most of the animals are taken from the streets, they don’t already have names assigned to them. Therefore, the Humane Society does that for them. Some of the names are cute and cuddly (Oswald, Ozzy, Tori, and Sitka can all attest to that). And then there are names which are so fucking weird that nobody bothers to adopt that animal. It’s sad and unfortunate, but it’s true. Would anybody adopt a kitty named Boompsa? Admiral Akbar? Sniper? Killer? What the fuck, man? So in this journal, I’m going to give you all ideas for pet names that aren’t too fruity or too weird. They’re just right and if they don’t feel right yet, you’ll get used to them over time. Starting with….
MALE:
Adam
Albert
Angelo
Barry
Biggie
Billy
Blake
Bo
Bray
Buddy
Caesar
Calvin
Chuck
Clay
Connor
Cooper
Dallas
Damien
Danny
Diego
Drake
Duncan
Dusty
Eddy
Finn
Frankie
Fred
George
Gerald
Henry
Howie
Jack
Jake
Jerry
Jimmy
Joey
Josh
Kingston
Larry
Louie
Luke
Mac
Marty
Mickey
Mojo
Monty
Nacho
Neville
Norman
Oscar
Owen
Pete
Randy
Ricky
Rocky
Sammy
Scotty
Seamus
Shadow
Simon
Sunny
Sylvester
Thomas
Titus
Tony
Tucker
Tyler
Victor
Woody
Wyatt
FEMALE:
Bailey
Becky
Bella
Brie
Cammy
Carmella
Charlie
Cherry
Cookie
Emma
Eva
Harper
Hattie
Jasmine
Jeanie
Jordan
Kelly
Lana
Lexi
Lilly
Marie
Mattie
Murphy
Naomi
Natalie
Nikki
Paige
Patty
Riley
Rosie
Sasha
Summer
We’ve got ears, say cheers!
***UPDATED CREATIVE TASK LIST***
EDITING TIMELINE:
September 1stt: Teach Me Passion, Twice the Cuteness, Walkabout
September 2nd: War Is My Destiny, Wendell Backland, Wishes in the Night
September 3rd: Wrestle Maniac, Format E-Book, Replace Old Copies with New One
READING PRIORITIES:
“The Girlfriend Wager” by Edward Davies
“So…I Met a Vampire” by Paul McAvoy
Weekly Short Story Contest and Company: “Flea Market”
“YES!” by Daniel Bryan
WRITING PRIORITIES:
Blood Brawl: “Chapter 2”
Character Profile: “Cain Lockhart”
Movie or TV Show Review: “Dennis the Menace”
***PROVERB OF THE DAY***
“Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”
Friday, August 28, 2015
Flipped Off
A massive red pickup truck pulled in slowly in front of the rickety three-tier house on top of Claymore Hill. On the outside the house looked like it was used every Halloween to scare the shit out of little kids. Cobwebs, broken windows, loose doors, shoddy construction, basically this place looked like a nightmare to live in.
When Ivan Savage and his heavyset buddy Mickey Ryder got out of the truck dressed in blue jeans, stained white T-shirts, and black combat boots, that could have only meant one thing: it was time to go to work on this puppy.
Ivan ran his gloved hand through his messy brown hair and said, “This feels wrong. This feels very wrong.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mickey.
“What do you think I mean? Didn’t you hear on the news who this house used to belong to? Angelo Crockett. Not just any Angelo Crockett, but the same guy who used this house for a goddamn rape dungeon. He kept anywhere between twenty and thirty underage girls here. If I start talking about what he did to them, I’m going to vomit. We should just get back in the truck and get out of here.”
Mickey made a flat tire noise and said, “Dude, what did you expect? You bought this house sight unseen at a flea market. A flea market, for shit’s sake. Hell, there are probably a bunch of fleas living in there right now. But you know what? This is the kind of work we get paid to do. As flip men, we have certain obligations and though they may seem cruel and unusual, they do include flipping houses and getting them ready to be sold at a high price.”
“Hey, I have no illusions about what I do for a living. It’s just that this is the most disgusting assignment I’ve ever had to do.”
“You think I feel any better about it, Ivan? You think I condone what that bastard did to those kids? That’s why we owe it to those young girls to clean this place up. Trust me, buddy, by the time we’re finished, Angelo Crockett’s name will be long forgotten about. Let’s get inside and see what we’ve got to work with.”
Mickey waddled his fat ass up the stairs and into the house while Ivan shook his head and reluctantly trailed him inside. The outside and the urban legend surrounding this house was vomit-inducing enough. But the inside was a disaster. The floors were covered with blood, puke, and feces. The walls were covered in even more sickening bodily fluids. The kitchen was so caked in urine and dirt that eating anything from there would be certain death. The bathroom reeked so badly that stepping one foot could mean a gut-busting assault on the nose. The basement? Well, that was easily the most sickening part of the house since it was everything the above two tiers was multiplied by ten.
Despite the horrific condition of this lonely house, the stench of it all was something Ivan and Mickey were both used to. They were flip men after all and remodeled houses as bad as this all the time. In fact, Mickey was already on the attack when it came to his plans to fix this house up.
“Alright, so here’s what I’m thinking. The carpets and the linoleum both have to be ripped up from the ground. There’s no saving them. In their place will be wooden floors. We’ll have wooden floors all around the upper two tiers and even the staircase will be like that too. We’re also going to use wood paneling for the walls, which are going to be painted afterwards, probably in the neighborhood of greenish blue. The bathroom will be a different story; it’s going to have square tiles both on the floor and on the walls. The appliances will all have to go from the sinks to the oven to the refrigerator to the toilets to the tubs. We’re going to buy brand new appliances and put them in their respective places. The cupboards are also going to have to be replaced with new wood. And finally, those light fixtures above us are going to have to be replaced with ceiling fans. You think we can do all of this, Ivan?”
Ivan gave his friend an “Are you kidding me?” look and said, “That’s all fine and good, but did you forget that this place used to be a goddamn rape dungeon for small children?!”
If either flip man needed a reminder of that, all they had to do was look on the kitchen floor next to the burned out stove. Ivan knelt down and picked up what appeared to be a porn magazine. He dusted off the cover and gagged when he saw what the book was titled: “Sexy Teenagers Weekly”.
“I’m going to be sick! I’m going to be sick! I’m going to be sick!” Ivan kept saying to himself as he dropped the magazine, ran out the front door, and retched all over the lawn. He shook hard as he tasted his McDonald’s breakfast sandwich from earlier that day. His decade-long experience of being a flip man didn’t prepare him for this.
“I’m going to go ahead and survey the basement. You can feel free to join me once you’re done throwing up,” yelled Mickey from the inside. Ivan was huffing and puffing while struggling to make it to his feet. As soon as he wiped the vomit from his mouth, he heard his construction buddy let out a blood-curdling scream followed by the sounds of fire and shredding.
Ivan slowly turned his head around and said, “Oh dear lord, no…Mickey!” He bolted inside and visited all of the rooms in the house in search of his friend. No sign of him. The one place he hadn’t looked was the basement aka Satan’s port-a-potty. Ivan swallowed a glob of barf-flavored saliva and shakily ventured down the stairs into the dark basement.
He struggled to find a light switch, but eventually found one at the bottom of the world’s longest stairs. He flipped it on and saw the ashen and shredded remains of what was once his best friend Mickey Ryder. “What the fuck?!” yelled Ivan as he rushed to the middle of the dingy basement to check on his friend. Once on his knees, tears formed in Ivan Savage’s eyes.
His sadness would be blended with fear when he heard the whispers of small children all around him. There they were: the ones responsible for the soul-stealing death of Mickey Ryder. They were the ashen souls of the thirty raped girls, who were forming a large circle around Ivan by holding hands and dancing around him.
“Please!” begged Ivan. “Please let me out of here! I never wanted to be here in the first place! I don’t even want to be a flip man anymore!”
In demonic, unified voices, the ghosts of the girls said, “Your friend had to pay the price! He wanted to use our deaths as a way to make money! He wanted to exploit us just like Master Angelo did!”
Disturbed by the fact that these girls just called their rapist “Master Angelo”, more tears formed in Ivan’s eyes when he said, “Listen…that man will never hurt you or anyone else again. He’s behind bars and he’ll never get out. He’s probably being stabbed to death in the showers right now.”
The ghosts said, “As well he should be! But that doesn’t solve the problem of you, my friend. You came here for the same reason as that giant sack of protoplasm over there. You wanted to exploit us for some easy cash! We’re not going to let you nor anyone else get away with that!”
“Please! You have to believe me! I wanted no part of this! I’ll do whatever you girls want! Anything you want!”
“…Anything?”
“Anything you want! Name it and it’s yours!”
The ghosts stroked their chins in mock contemplation before dancing around in a circle again and closing in on Ivan, who was curled in a little ball waiting to be murdered. But then the girls picked him up off the ground and made their conditions known. “You want to live, money man? Then you set us free right now. You will not flip this house. You will instead burn it to the ground. No one shall make money off of us again! Nobody! Do you understand?!”
“I…I…I…” Ivan swallowed hard. “I have a gas can and some matches in my truck. As soon as you girls let me go, I’m burning this place to the ground. Just like we promised.”
The next time the girls danced, it was in a celebratory ballet style. They hugged each other and spun around in happiness while Ivan ran past them, up the stairs, and out to his truck to do what he promised.
He scrambled in the back of the pickup truck for that gasoline. He panicked when he almost didn’t find it, but there it was buried underneath the lumber. The matches he got from the glove box. Ivan took a few deep breaths and steadied his nerves before slowly approaching this former rape dungeon to do what he wanted to do all along. He splashed some gasoline on the walls, lit a match, and watched the fire consume the entire house.
Before the fire could get too out of hand, Ivan hopped in the truck and drove away in a hurry, easily doing 80 miles per hour. Sooner or later, someone would call the fire department and the rape dungeon would be nothing more than cooling ashes. Knowing it was all over gave Ivan a sense of relief, therefore he slowed down his driving speed and breathed a sigh of relief. All he needed to do at that point was come up with a little white lie to tell his superiors when they ask him about what happened to both the house and Mickey Ryder.
When Ivan Savage and his heavyset buddy Mickey Ryder got out of the truck dressed in blue jeans, stained white T-shirts, and black combat boots, that could have only meant one thing: it was time to go to work on this puppy.
Ivan ran his gloved hand through his messy brown hair and said, “This feels wrong. This feels very wrong.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mickey.
“What do you think I mean? Didn’t you hear on the news who this house used to belong to? Angelo Crockett. Not just any Angelo Crockett, but the same guy who used this house for a goddamn rape dungeon. He kept anywhere between twenty and thirty underage girls here. If I start talking about what he did to them, I’m going to vomit. We should just get back in the truck and get out of here.”
Mickey made a flat tire noise and said, “Dude, what did you expect? You bought this house sight unseen at a flea market. A flea market, for shit’s sake. Hell, there are probably a bunch of fleas living in there right now. But you know what? This is the kind of work we get paid to do. As flip men, we have certain obligations and though they may seem cruel and unusual, they do include flipping houses and getting them ready to be sold at a high price.”
“Hey, I have no illusions about what I do for a living. It’s just that this is the most disgusting assignment I’ve ever had to do.”
“You think I feel any better about it, Ivan? You think I condone what that bastard did to those kids? That’s why we owe it to those young girls to clean this place up. Trust me, buddy, by the time we’re finished, Angelo Crockett’s name will be long forgotten about. Let’s get inside and see what we’ve got to work with.”
Mickey waddled his fat ass up the stairs and into the house while Ivan shook his head and reluctantly trailed him inside. The outside and the urban legend surrounding this house was vomit-inducing enough. But the inside was a disaster. The floors were covered with blood, puke, and feces. The walls were covered in even more sickening bodily fluids. The kitchen was so caked in urine and dirt that eating anything from there would be certain death. The bathroom reeked so badly that stepping one foot could mean a gut-busting assault on the nose. The basement? Well, that was easily the most sickening part of the house since it was everything the above two tiers was multiplied by ten.
Despite the horrific condition of this lonely house, the stench of it all was something Ivan and Mickey were both used to. They were flip men after all and remodeled houses as bad as this all the time. In fact, Mickey was already on the attack when it came to his plans to fix this house up.
“Alright, so here’s what I’m thinking. The carpets and the linoleum both have to be ripped up from the ground. There’s no saving them. In their place will be wooden floors. We’ll have wooden floors all around the upper two tiers and even the staircase will be like that too. We’re also going to use wood paneling for the walls, which are going to be painted afterwards, probably in the neighborhood of greenish blue. The bathroom will be a different story; it’s going to have square tiles both on the floor and on the walls. The appliances will all have to go from the sinks to the oven to the refrigerator to the toilets to the tubs. We’re going to buy brand new appliances and put them in their respective places. The cupboards are also going to have to be replaced with new wood. And finally, those light fixtures above us are going to have to be replaced with ceiling fans. You think we can do all of this, Ivan?”
Ivan gave his friend an “Are you kidding me?” look and said, “That’s all fine and good, but did you forget that this place used to be a goddamn rape dungeon for small children?!”
If either flip man needed a reminder of that, all they had to do was look on the kitchen floor next to the burned out stove. Ivan knelt down and picked up what appeared to be a porn magazine. He dusted off the cover and gagged when he saw what the book was titled: “Sexy Teenagers Weekly”.
“I’m going to be sick! I’m going to be sick! I’m going to be sick!” Ivan kept saying to himself as he dropped the magazine, ran out the front door, and retched all over the lawn. He shook hard as he tasted his McDonald’s breakfast sandwich from earlier that day. His decade-long experience of being a flip man didn’t prepare him for this.
“I’m going to go ahead and survey the basement. You can feel free to join me once you’re done throwing up,” yelled Mickey from the inside. Ivan was huffing and puffing while struggling to make it to his feet. As soon as he wiped the vomit from his mouth, he heard his construction buddy let out a blood-curdling scream followed by the sounds of fire and shredding.
Ivan slowly turned his head around and said, “Oh dear lord, no…Mickey!” He bolted inside and visited all of the rooms in the house in search of his friend. No sign of him. The one place he hadn’t looked was the basement aka Satan’s port-a-potty. Ivan swallowed a glob of barf-flavored saliva and shakily ventured down the stairs into the dark basement.
He struggled to find a light switch, but eventually found one at the bottom of the world’s longest stairs. He flipped it on and saw the ashen and shredded remains of what was once his best friend Mickey Ryder. “What the fuck?!” yelled Ivan as he rushed to the middle of the dingy basement to check on his friend. Once on his knees, tears formed in Ivan Savage’s eyes.
His sadness would be blended with fear when he heard the whispers of small children all around him. There they were: the ones responsible for the soul-stealing death of Mickey Ryder. They were the ashen souls of the thirty raped girls, who were forming a large circle around Ivan by holding hands and dancing around him.
“Please!” begged Ivan. “Please let me out of here! I never wanted to be here in the first place! I don’t even want to be a flip man anymore!”
In demonic, unified voices, the ghosts of the girls said, “Your friend had to pay the price! He wanted to use our deaths as a way to make money! He wanted to exploit us just like Master Angelo did!”
Disturbed by the fact that these girls just called their rapist “Master Angelo”, more tears formed in Ivan’s eyes when he said, “Listen…that man will never hurt you or anyone else again. He’s behind bars and he’ll never get out. He’s probably being stabbed to death in the showers right now.”
The ghosts said, “As well he should be! But that doesn’t solve the problem of you, my friend. You came here for the same reason as that giant sack of protoplasm over there. You wanted to exploit us for some easy cash! We’re not going to let you nor anyone else get away with that!”
“Please! You have to believe me! I wanted no part of this! I’ll do whatever you girls want! Anything you want!”
“…Anything?”
“Anything you want! Name it and it’s yours!”
The ghosts stroked their chins in mock contemplation before dancing around in a circle again and closing in on Ivan, who was curled in a little ball waiting to be murdered. But then the girls picked him up off the ground and made their conditions known. “You want to live, money man? Then you set us free right now. You will not flip this house. You will instead burn it to the ground. No one shall make money off of us again! Nobody! Do you understand?!”
“I…I…I…” Ivan swallowed hard. “I have a gas can and some matches in my truck. As soon as you girls let me go, I’m burning this place to the ground. Just like we promised.”
The next time the girls danced, it was in a celebratory ballet style. They hugged each other and spun around in happiness while Ivan ran past them, up the stairs, and out to his truck to do what he promised.
He scrambled in the back of the pickup truck for that gasoline. He panicked when he almost didn’t find it, but there it was buried underneath the lumber. The matches he got from the glove box. Ivan took a few deep breaths and steadied his nerves before slowly approaching this former rape dungeon to do what he wanted to do all along. He splashed some gasoline on the walls, lit a match, and watched the fire consume the entire house.
Before the fire could get too out of hand, Ivan hopped in the truck and drove away in a hurry, easily doing 80 miles per hour. Sooner or later, someone would call the fire department and the rape dungeon would be nothing more than cooling ashes. Knowing it was all over gave Ivan a sense of relief, therefore he slowed down his driving speed and breathed a sigh of relief. All he needed to do at that point was come up with a little white lie to tell his superiors when they ask him about what happened to both the house and Mickey Ryder.
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