A New Introduction for a New Era of Death and Carnivals!

Two years have passed and like quite a few sincere projects this languished due to neglect, in those two years I've traveled quite a bit and perhaps am a little closer to my quest as a writer for the holy grail. In any case, writing short stories was a relatively short period of my life and have since dedicated most of my time to script-writing.

So what shall this blog serve to do? Merely a breeding ground for my ideas, a place to comment and sprawl various thoughts and notations, for those of you interested in my work, to get a glimpse in my thought process, but more importantly its for me to keep my ideas contained.

Within the Weeping Willow
By Eric H Emma

Once upon a time in an uncanny world filled with exotics inherent with mundane and petty motives an egg fell through a majestic willow tree. The egg collided with the soft soil, the thick membrane shell had shattered on impact, and it revealed what lay within, a small boy. His consciousness shocked into being by pain followed by a cacophony of the senses, light stormed through his retina, sounds beat down upon him, smells flared into his nostrils, the texture of the soil was frightening to his small fingers, and yet within seconds his self came into being. The boy at first crawled, enjoyed the simple pleasures of the senses that had once tormented him, and when he was ready within the overcast protection of the grand willow tree he stood. To the naked eye the boy was but a child not more than the age of nine.

The boy stepped out of one cocoon into yet a bigger one, the weeping willow’s core. The boy was enshrouded by darkness for few rays from the sun could penetrate through the thick foliage of the weeping willow and thus the boy was confronted by another daunting wall. The enclosed space was cramped by the willow’s many branches, its tears proudly hanging from them, and each strand of vegetation bearing the sweetness of bitter fruits to sustain the boy’s hunger. The willow took care of the boy’s every need and the boy was happy, at least in the beginning.

The boy would spend his days exploring every nook and cranny of the willow in an exuberant search for sensations he had yet to experience: the toughness of the bark as it scraped his small hands, the softness of the soil as it caressed his feet, the texture of slug on the tongue, and various other wonders of the willow delighted the lustful boy’s curiosity, till finally he had explored all there was to explore in the willow, and then a gnawing began to take shape in his soul as he wondered what laid beyond the wall. It was during the quiet of night during those brief everlasting moments before sleep with only his thoughts for company, it gnawed.

The willow granted curiosity’s wish and began to shed its tears. The dense foliage gave way around the timid boy and he noticed how small his world was as it begun to expand around him. At night the boy saw the outline of a lecher, a frightening winged beast, which alighted at the top of his beloved willow tree and he began to learn he was not alone in this world. As he saw the world that surrounded him, he retreated, closer and closer to the only thing that he ever knew the willow.

One day, before all the willow’s tears had dropped, an odious smell befell the naive boy. The musk was so poignant, so distinct, yet so utterly magnificent it awoke a dormant force within his soul. The gnawing overtook reason and the boy just ran, far from the protection of the willow tree. The boy squinted under the tremendous force of the sun’s rays, his skin’s nerves were sparked with life as ultra violet rays kamikaze on his cells, the gentile grass yielded to the tremendous force of his feet, and his lungs inhaled fresh air for the first time. The boy felt alive. His eyes finally adjusted to the sun to behold the beauty of the valley, yet he discovered yet another wall, a forest of trees encased this enchanting grove.

Finally, when his little legs could run no more he crumpled and fell on the soft, soothing grass. He laid there basking in the sun and letting UV rays dance upon his skin. Starring up toward the heavens he discovered the great beasts of the skies known as clouds. His nose however had caught whiff of the pungent musk that had originally inspired him to dare make this marvellous journey. The boy raised his head and to his horror he spotted whence the musk came, from “it”.

“It” was alien, a grotesque representation of the world’s twisted achievements. Aliens are the following: humanoid, male, and bipedal. Physically speaking they have two grey, beady, little eyes, lack a nose, and are endowed with something that can only be likened to that of a beak. An alien has two long, slimy, and ensnaring tentacles. Aliens also dress the same: a dashing pin-striped suit, a black top hat, black leather shoes, and a matching black attaché case. Aliens are identical in every way, not an ounce of uniqueness lay within their ugly bodies, except for the distinct musk they carry with them.

The alien in his dashing pin-striped suit and with his long soothing tentacles extended outward glided toward the frightened boy. The alien opened its ghastly beak whence flowed the first question the boy would ever hear, “What is your name little boy?” Much to the boy’s surprise he understood thus his identity was born in the face of another.

The boy’s face formed a grimace followed by his first utterance, “I don’t know”. The alien let out a boisterous laugh, its tentacles flew up into the air blocking the sun, and his beak cracked wide open, “I once was as you are... an empty shell till I was found and brought to the city.” The boy looked up at a monster that was growing more and more amicable as the conversation went on. The boy asked, “What’s a city?” That familiar laugh had yet again erupted from the jubilant stranger and when it had settled down it replied, “Why, it’s a wondrous place filled with people and it is always in need of workers” The boy frowned and asked, “People like me?” The alien was quite offended by connotations not meant by the small boy perhaps the alien felt a twang of envy for opposable thumbs. “What do you mean people like you? You mean dumb and ignorant people who don’t know the meaning of work? Do you want to be like that? How can you do work with those puny arms, you need tentacles!” The stranger proudly threw its tentacles in the air and the boy felt the prickly needles of shame for the first time as the stranger towered above him.

The stranger feeling it had firmly asserted itself then asked, “The reason I came over in the first place is that I’m somewhat lost, you wouldn’t happen to know which way the city is?” The boy shrugs ignorantly which made the alien quite indignant and thus responded, “Of course not”

After a few moments of silence, in which the boy first discovered the finer points of society known as awkwardness, the alien said, “I say little boy, how would you like to come to the city with me, forever surrounded by company, it’ll be hard work during the day but at night, you’ll have the time of your life” The boy turned away absorbing the valley and the willow’s immense beauty as well as fully realizing the coldness of solitude. The boy yearned to give into temptation, to let it fully coil around his soul, to give into such hedonistic ecstasy, and to become one of them. The boy asked, “Would I become like you?” The alien was silent and though the boy was young it needed no explanation. The boy stared out across the great divide racked with great causation. In the end, the boy rejected the alien’s offer and it went on its merry way.

As the alien walked off into the night it was being watched from the skies by a lecher. It descended from the skies, black metallic wings blocked out the sun, and talons ready to tear flesh were fully extended out. In the few moments the alien had, he was enraptured by the sight of such a divine creature, her beauty was only matched by her unrelenting cruelty. His awe was brought to a screeching halt as the lecher’s talons gorged into the alien’s face, she smiled and he screamed. The alien’s useless tentacles flailing in the wind as the lecher dragged him through the air back toward the weeping willow.

The boy whom bore witness to the entire scene stood in awe. All it took was a few glimpses of femininity and already the boy was ensnared. The gnawing had now engulfed his being and he knew he must go after his divine goddess. The boy returned back to his once protective cocoon, to venture to the top, to confront his fears, and to cross the final threshold. The boy looked up and the willow seemed to stretch to the heavens. Men were not meant for such heights yet the boy knew to survive he must climb it and defy the impossible if he was to see his lecher, the gnawing commanded it.

The boy began his trek to the top. He grabbed one of the willow’s strong branches and hoisted himself up. As he climbed he discovered the world that had lain above him all this time and was humbled. Soon hunger had set in and no longer could he have lived off the tree’s succulent fruits for he had travelled too far. There he lay as he reached a height never dreamt by an alien but paltry to a lecher. Feelings of failure entered into his consciousness and he considered giving up. The boy had discovered hardship.

The boy persevered and eventually found at the end of one of the weaker appendages was one last bitter fruit. He began one step at a time. The branch started to shake halfway there. He lost his balance. Regained. Deep breath and he continued on. The farther out he got the less stable it became. Almost there. CRACK. His head darted back. His eyes shot up. Fear consumed him. With only moments to spare the boy did the unthinkable he jumped into the abyss, straight off the tree into the darkness of night.

As the boy fell he saw the harbinger of his doom descend upon him. Metallic wings blocked out the night. Her talons opened. The boy screamed. No escape. He was the lecher’s now. This was not how it was suppose to be. BLACKNESS. There was no pain. In the next instant a thought fluttered through the boy’s mind as he wondered what had happened. He realized he could still feel, he could still hear the wind, he could still wobbles his little legs, and thus he was still alive. The lecher had not sunk her talons into the boy’s face instead she gently plucked him out of the sky as if plucking an apple from a tree. Within the blackness the boy was forced to face himself, his thoughts, and his fears for he truly was in purgatory now. For the first time he was forced to think. He suffered the burden of such a privilege.

Trapped in purgatory the boy was led to a frightful quagmire. He was faced with a question to which he had no answer, what did he want? For he certainly did not wish to become a grotesque alien, nor did he wish to be alone, perhaps his lecher had saved him? CLACK. The world opened to the boy again. Her daunting yet divine figure towered above him for the first time he saw the magnificent beast up close. He was in her lair, her nest that lay high in the heavens. The nest was adorned with the skeletal remains of devoured aliens as if displayed accolades.

The boy looked up at the cherub’s face and her beautiful blue eyes bored into his soul. Etched across the lecher’s face seemed a tint of pride as she began their discourse, “Little boy, how fast we’ve grown yet why have you travelled where you do not belong.” The boy, who seemed strangely at ease, replied, “I needed to see you again.” The lecher, taken aback, replied, “Tell me what it is you want?” The boy responded, “I want to be like you” The lecher affectionately laughed at the boy’s innocence and with a tint of sadness broke to him the sad truths of the world, “No, your fate is resigned to that of an alien for it was written in the stars.” The boy was repulsed and lashed out with “Am I doomed to be so grotesque?” The lecher replied, “It is your choice little one, it always has been.”

The child changed his rhetoric turning to the alien skeletons, “Why do you eat them?” The lecher’s mood turned melancholy and she responded honestly albeit ashamed, “I hunger.” The boy asked, “Does the tree’s fruit not satisfy you?” She turned her face away from the boy and she responded, “Fruit does not provide me with virility” The lecher had revealed her ugliness for her freedom was dependent on the grotesque aliens. The boy, repulsed by the impurity of the divine, replied “Though grotesque they don’t deserve such a fate”. The lecher angered by such judgements, “You have much to learn little boy! This is not a nice world you been borne to! Aliens are vicious creatures, who prey on a weaker kind then yourself!” Her wings then lifted her into the sky.

The boy ran to the edge of the nest to stop her from leaving instead he was awed. His perception of the world had hit its zenith, expanded beyond anything he imagined, far past the green valley to uncharted places that seem to stretch on forever, and he learned there are no walls enclosing him in. CRACK! The boy turned to see out of the nest’s floor a hand popped through. The lecher had hidden one of her eggs within her nest for protection and for the boy. However what had emerged was not a small boy but a small girl and she had wings. The boy now understood the lecher’s cryptic last words and knew it was his duty to protect his companion from the horrors of the world. He took one last look at his brave new world atop his weeping willow, a world of lechers and aliens but also of humankind.

To the Man Who Had It All
By Eric H. Emma

For a few futile moments, Sam Sheppard is allow to think while he and his imprisoned brethren wait on the tarmac in a perfect line. They await the Red Beast, as it was affectionately known, the abrogation that delivers them to their prison work. However, today was not a normal day, his fellow inmates were not familiar to Sam and the Red Beast was no where to be seen. The guard who escorted Sam to the tarmac is relieved by what seems to be another dull and nondescript guard except something about his eyes irked Sam. A futile thought creeps into Sam’s mind, it’s of the letter, it’s the same thought every morning, much to Sam’s chagrin. (In this sanctum, being a mindless drone is what one strives to become.) This line of thought, however, was interrupted by the intrusion of a decrepit beige van, it pulls up to the tarmac with two more guards in it. Sam steps into the van, he takes his usual position, alone and in the back. When he sits down he carefully examines the ground, it doesn’t have any glaring holes like the red beast had, the van’s engine doesn’t sound like it has cancer either, and it rides semi-decently. Surprisingly, it’s an improvement except for one tiny detail, it’s smaller than the beast, it’s packed to the brim. The ride wasn’t bad, ignoring the acrid stench of ten prison inmates crammed into a small van on one of the hottest days in the year. The van finally stops at a nondescript location, full of anonymous trash, on a dull, excessively hot, and monotonous day. Everyone gets out, Sam simply gets to work, alone.

The usual beat of monotony, then that horrible sound shatters it, a sound heard only once before in Sam’s life, a guttural cry for life. One of the guards was falling on to the dead grass, a knife protruding from his back. A second guttural yell, the other guard has fallen to the dead grass, impaled by a pick. The barbarians were now encircling the irksome guard. Sam was mortified, he knew he had to make a choice, either go along with these barbarians or take a stand, not to be hero because it doesn‘t matter, he’s already dead. With a pick, Sam walked nonchalantly to the gun-totin’ ringleader, stuck the pick to his neck, and said, “Drop it”. Sam is confused, nothing is happening, then the irksome guard starts speaking, “All right men that’s enough, you did good, now pack everything up, and I’ll meet you in the van.” To Sam’s horror, all the prisoners and supposedly dead guards, are gone, just leaving the man, Sam, dead grass, and anonymous garbage.

The man walks up to Sam, sticks out his hand and says, “Sam, the name’s Jack Stratton, head of secret projects at the pentagon”. Then it comes, that unbelievable phrase which always has to come, “Sam, we need you for something very important”. Sam thinking, important, he’s a convict, a word synonymous with worthless. Sam‘s response, “What’s the catch?”. Jack tells him that he will die but it will be of national importance. Sam laughs, these bastards locked him up for the last twenty five years for one simple mistake, and now they want him to die for this god-forsaken country? Sam then realizes why this ordinary looking man is chief, he’s holding all the cards. Jack says, “Tell me, how are you going mail that letter, if you don’t know where your daughter even lives?”

Jack had shot Sam, a wounded animal, point blank, Sam lets out a hearty roar in the hopes of scaring the poacher away, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MY DAUGHTER!”, but Jack sees right through this. Jack lights up a cigarette, and then says, “Everything, here’s the deal, you do what I want, I’ll deliver that precious letter and your diary to your daughter? Or you can go back to rotting away in that cell of yours, and be completely forgotten, if you care to join me, get in the car”. Sam gets in the car, the man holds all the cards, what does it matter.
As Sam awakes, he feels the chill in his bones, his mind teetering on the brink of sanity. Remembering only his name, indiscernible images of chaos & imprisonment flash through his mind’s eye. He starts to try and get up, but he’s brought crashing down by an intense gravitational force, as if the world beat upon him. Sam looks around he’s in a cemetery, he feels the robes of death that imprison him A thought manifests in Sam’s mind, he breaks into a run with the burden of the world beating upon him, his muscles moan in agony. With instinct as his guide he passes marble angels, squirrels, cars, and other oddities masquerading as tombstones, finally he escapes the eerie cemetery. Sam glides down a road in his deathly robe, it’s quiet, too quiet, as if the world had died while he slept. Left on North Street. His memory starts to trickle down, the screams of delirium and pain of his bedridden mother, the absence of his two-bit gangster father, and his will to be a better parent. Right on Second Street. He remembers the cold concrete of prison. Left on Wonder Street. A number blazes in his head, 616, he’s close he can feel it. He stops, he’s found the number, the house, he’s found his daughter.

Sam’s instincts have gone cold, he knows he’s never seen his daughter, he’s paralyzed with fear. The fragmented memories continue to rush through his head, the divorce notice was the last he heard from his wife, she had taken his daughter to some obscure nook of the country, his will to live slowly faded away. He decides to head into the house, the door is open, he’s found the master bedroom, he slowly peers into the room. He remembers being ushered into a huge auditorium, donning the robes of death, and sitting in death’s chair. His daughter is sitting at her desk doing work, a grown women, she is completely frozen in time as if a real live photo, and then his memory hits him like a sledge-hammer.

Sam remembers everything, the shroud had been lifted. Sam is moving at incredible speeds, time has stopped for him, and as a safety precaution, he will die in three days due to a poison in his system. In his daughter face he read a story of pain and anguish, a story he knew well, not having a father. Her husband is in the room, he has an ID tag, “Oliver Lance - Resident Doctor”. Sam in self-pity, thinks good for her, she married rich, if only he could have had that option. However, Sam quickly spots Dinah’s ID Tag, “Dinah Lance - Resident Nurse”. For a moment Sam can forget his plight and bask in pride. Sam conjures up a fantasy involving a big lonely hospital, ironically their love had nothing to do with their professions, it was over a cup of tea at the local Asian market.

Sam begins to pace the room, pondering about the mission at hand. National security had nothing to do with him, he could spend his time figuring out on how to rid himself of this suit. Sam turns to his daughter, how many lost years did he lose because of this frickin’ government? Sam hope she‘ll understand, life was unkind to him. Sam knows he has to carry out the mission he’s just been deluding himself, she needs to get that letter, for his sake.

Sam begins to go over the particulars of his mission. His mission is to stop a man who’s out assassinate the president and is using a similar suit as his. His name is a Dr. Shawn Freedman, 45, same age as Sam except the doctor was born with a silver spoon. The doctor’s story reads like one of those fluff pieces you find in the back of a society magazine, wealthy family, best schooling, renown scientist, marries his high school sweet-heart, and has a family. What they don’t mention in the society pages is that the doctor became obsessed with his work, neglecting his wife and family, till one day he woke up and his wife had cancer. Jack Stratton met the doctor locked away from the world, slaving away at “cure”, offering a way to conduct his research in the blink of an eye. The doctor went astray and has been causing mayhem all across the United States, and is heading straight for the white house. Sam laughs bitterly, thinking serves them all right for playing God. The doctor’s been given everything and he just threw it away, Sam needs to know why.

Sam, knowing what he must do, steps out of the house, he walks to the end of the street. What he’s about to do might just kill him, however, he has no choice. Remembering his training, he opens a concealed layer of his robe, pulls out a compass, ruler, and map. He puts the map on the ground, drawing a line from Arlington to Fairfax, the home of the doctor, he determines it’s a eleven miles in a straight line to the west. He opens up another flap in his suit to reveal a button. Basically when he holds down the button, the suit will begin to rack up huge amounts of kinetic energy, for every ten seconds he holds it he can go a mile, in theory he’ll be moving so fast, he’ll essentially vibrate through anything in the way, and hopefully he won’t disintegrate in the process. Sam doesn’t really understand much about the suit, they don’t explain things to a rat. He begins to hold down the button, the pain is gradual at first, then he starts to feel his organs tearing at the seams, then the nose-bleeds starts, he can taste the blood on his lips, he starting to lose consciousness, needs to hold on for twenty more seconds, there’s blackness. When he awakes, he’s in Fairfax, VA.

When Sam opens his eyes, he wonders if he’s finally free but he quickly remembers the grim reality. He stands up wondering if he can truly knows if this is Fairfax, VA, then he sees the horror. A line of carnage lies before Sam, cars, buildings, and people ripped in half by the wake of destruction left by an unforeseen force. The faces of the poor souls ripped in half were the most ghastly, for they were still smiling. Sam trudges on, following the path of carnage, it leads him to a house, the door is open.

Crossing the threshold fully conscious there‘s no turning back, Sam wheels around the various rooms, retaining a glimpse into the life that the doctor had missed. Children of all ages graced this house of death which in turn constantly plagued Sam’s mind with the question, “Why did the doctor throw it all away?”. Sam finally makes it to the end of this labyrinth of lost dreams, the master bedroom. He hesitantly peers in, much to his surprise, he sees a man staring at his dying wife’s face and truly knowing there’s nothing he can do, even stopping time wasn’t enough to save her. The doctor had known of Sam’s presence the minute Sam stepped into his home, though the doctor was still pondering his next move. The doctor didn’t believe in prolonging the inevitable and the trespasser had already made it to his inner sanctum, so he would make the first move

The doctor finally acknowledges Sam’s presence, they look each other straight in the eye, measuring each other’s grit, silence pervades the room. Finally the doctor says, “They sent someone to take care of me, did they?”. Sam is dumbfounded, realizing he’s not ready to throw his life away. The doctor further pushes, “Are you mute or simply plain stupid?”. Sam quickly shifts from being dumbfounded to indignant, Sam lashes back with, “Who the hell do you think you are?”. The good doctor simply laughs and turns toward the window. Sam presses on, “Don’t laugh at me, I’m talking to you!” The doctor, not as a murderer but as a human being, turns around and softly replies, “Have you ever loved anyone before?”. Sam ponders this, for the first time in his life, he has never consider the fact that he was never given the chance to truly love someone. Sam’s silence is the doctor’s answer. The doctor further presses on, “If you had, perhaps you might know the pain of sacrificing everything and having it mean nothing”. Sam become enraged at this and responds with, “YOU THINK THAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO MASSACRE HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE BECAUSE YOUR EGO COULDN’T HANDLE THE THOUGHT OF FAILURE!” The doctor can no longer keep his cool, he responds with, “How dare you judge me, you presumptuous cockroach, I am a god! If I choose to take the lives of more insignificants then I shall!” The doctor sighs, regains his composure and takes a walk toward the window. Sam knows he could complete his mission now, a simple punch would yield enough power to kill them both, however, he needs to know why, why a man who had it all, threw it all away.The doctor’s looking out at his frozen world wondering where it all went wrong, a battle rages inside him between an angered god who hungers for blood and a man, the man his wife had once fallen in loved with. The doctor, the man, turns toward Sam as if trying to reach out to another soul for some pity, he asks, “Look at her, she’s dying, she was the love of my life! What was I suppose to do just stand by and watch her wither away!”. Sam won’t grant this poor soul his pity, he replies back in anger, “WHAT WERE YOU SUPPOSE TO DO? YOU WERE SUPPOSE TO BE A MAN AND TAKE CARE OF YOUR FAMILY!”. The doctor can no longer contain it, the god has taken over, there is no time for small pleasantries, the cockroach must be squashed, he lunges at Sam, Sam dodges, the doctor punches a wall, the wall trembles. Sam knows he has to get out, lead the doctor somewhere desolate, he runs out of the room, the strain of the earth still beating upon him, the doctor is in hot pursuit.

Outside, Sam knows he’s got to get as far away from innocent people as possible, before. Then it hits him, he remembers that during his training they told him to never to jump because every force gives off an equally powerful reaction. If he jumps it should sling shot him out of the city but at the risk of causing a seismic earthquake. The doctor comes bustling out the door, Sam needs to make a decision, he jumps, he screams in pain as he’s hurtled at super speeds out of the city. The doctor quickly follows, they both end up falling hard in a forest right outside Fairfax, they both lose consciousness.

When Sam awakes, he’s reminded of a memory, a memory he hasn’t thought of in many years. It was the catalyst which led to this moment and why he is here. Sam is reminded of being at a high school party, he remembers the smell of booze and marijuana so well. He remembers sleeping with the hottest chick at the party, on his friend’s pool table no less. Then he remembers her gorilla boyfriend coming in and beating the shit out of him, that is how he feels right now. That girl would later become pregnant with his child, and he would marry her out of a sense of chivalry long dead in this day and age. It wasn’t love, it was honor, but he needed money and he needed it bad, which led to his diamond heist. Sam thought about that poor police-man and his family, he still remembers the look on the cop’s face when he had shot him, and for once Sam truly feels sorry for what he did. It is then Sam understands, him and the doctor are the same. Sam starts to get up, he understands how a man could abandon his family, he did it with the diamond heist, he is no better, he killed an innocent, but it’s time to stop running and face himself.

Sam stands, it hasn’t gotten any easier but he has a will to live now, for he knows he has to stop the doctor. The doctor isn’t hard to find, considering the thirst for Sam‘s blood has taken hold of his mind, the doctor continually thinks how dare such a cockroach judge him. They both meet in a clearing in the forest, it’s a showdown, they both could run, but they know the end is here. As if in an old western, they both stare each other down, both waiting to see who makes the first move, the doctor is impudent and beings to run toward Sam. He underestimates Sam, Sam dodges and pushes the doctor with so much force, that his body is scattered all over the great state of Virginia, of course Sam is hurdled quite a distance as well but he survives.
Sam’s first thought is to race back and try to find someway to talk to his daughter, but he realizes that he’s been handed his redemption but at a high price. The poison has started to kick in, he only has a day left at the most, he remembers the faces of those ripped in half by the doctor. It’s going take at least a day, even at super-speeds, to repair all the damage that madman has created. There was no way he was going see his daughter again and that’s the price he needed to pay, because there was more to the world than just himself. So with that thought, Sam sped off with his duties as a glorified janitor.

The next day Dinah Lance awakes from her dreamless sleep, it is morning, though that has no relevance to her All she knows is that within moments she will begin the day’s monotonous tasks, little does she know what today has in store for her. She is finally fully awaken by her radio alarm clock, a news reporter is reporting on a strange occurrence in Fairfax, VA, it seems a small earthquake befell the town, luckily no one was hurt. She quickly turns it off, she then notices her husband in the chair across from the bed with a shot glass, and some gin. She instinctually knows something is wrong, yet it hasn’t occurred to her that this is the day she’s waited for all her life, the day she learns about her father.

When Oliver Lance first saw Jack Stratton earlier that morning, he thought he was being accosted by a traveling bible salesman. However, as Sam had found out, when Jack opened his mouth he learned he was anything but what he seemed. When he had explained that he was carrying Dinah’s father’s diary and a letter, he thought it was a joke. But he quickly dismissed the thought since anyone who knew Dinah would never pull such a thing, it’d be just too hurtful, based on Dinah’s own thoughts toward her father. Oliver had always urge Dinah to go meet her father, he even one year tract him down, some prison in North Carolina, but still Dinah chose not to. Oliver understood, he was a wise and caring man, and knew the decision was her, he figured that deep down she was in many ways the little girl waiting for her father to ride in on a white horse. Which is all the more reason why this blew his mind. He gave Jack a quick thanks and Jack was on his way. He quickly glance through the diary and the letter, just to make sure it was legit, then close them quickly, as to respect Dinah privacy. For the most part they seem to be the real deal. So in such baffling times as this, there was only one thing to do, which was take out a good ol’bottle of Jack Daniels, and drink. “What’s wrong?”, Dinah says instinctually. Oliver gets up very nonchalantly, walks over to Dinah, kisses her on the head gently, hands her the letter and the diary, “Don’t ask questions, honey, just read and be happy, I’ll be downstairs” Dinah is baffled, but simply takes the book and letter. She opens the letter and begins to read, it wasn’t a white horse but it was pretty close.

The Importance of the Towel

Mad ravings on this blog come and go like that crazy uncle who bought your love with cold hard cash. Today’s topic an ever growing controversial topic in the public arena, hell it concerns both Muslims and those immigrants we keep hearing about, THE IMPORTANCE OF THE TOWEL! First off I liked to pay respects to the creator of the towel, but sadly the man who created this is so humble that he has remained anonymous. Some people might say there are more important things than the towel, these would be seditious communists who deserve to be sent out back and shot, for they are trying to blind you from the importance of the towel. Tell me when you spill something where’s the first thing you turn to, a towel of some sort. When you step out of the tower and you need to dry off, what object do you subject the horrible task of drying your barren ass, the towel.

In recent years the towel has been under attack by technology though, soon we will live in a world devoid of towels, I know it’s too horrible to imagine. Tell me when people wash there hair, where do they turn to now? The hair dryer instead of the reliable towel, but let ask all those seditious users of hair dryers out there, would a towel kill you in the shower? I think not! I see grave times ahead of us, there seems to be a cultural rift forming, those who use the towel and then those who are gung-ho for technology. Technology is the devil, I saw Terminator 2, we all know what happens, that technology goes nuts and tries to kill us all, but thank god for those of us still not plugged into the system.

The towel symbolizes democracy in a world that wishes to resort to being mindless tools led by technology! So I put forth all of you a challenge, STAND UP TO THE EVILS OF TECHNOLOGY AND WEAR YOUR TOWEL PROUDLY!!! For you see, the opposition, that evil opposition, which would you like to confuse you wiht mis-direction by saying you can find it to either the left or right, wants to lull you into a false sense of security with it's high tech security systems and fancy lights, but just watch when the seditious traitors slither into your home, steal your children and leave you for dead! And while your life-force ozzes out of you while you lay on your bathroom tile floor, you'll see a towel and remember that where it all began. It starts now, WILL YOU TAKE A STAND FOR YOUR RIGHT TO OWN A TOWEL!!!

Introduction
Another blog to join the ranks of a passe fad gone astray, at one point one could argue that this could possibly be the grassroots movement the liberal left has been waiting for all these years. The grassroots movement is now merely a façade, much like the theme-park that had that beautiful sign on the highway yet it’s most memorable attraction is a fat man who can sing in perfect pitch while running from a geriatric alligator. I digress though, blogging once was perceived as a grassroots movement promoting the ideal of the spreading of information that would finally bring the conservative right, elitist pricks, to it’s knees. Obviously, since the majority of people are of the liberal left persuasion, they are being put into submission thus rendering them ignorant and as useless as a limp dick, by the notorious conservative right, but alas blogging is nothing more than a caricature, or more appropriately poor propaganda made by the liberal left, a group that has long sought to usurp the conservative right of its power through seditious rumblings. Great minds have often pondered, why one side hates the other so much, for you can not have one side without the other. If there was no left, then would not half of the right become left itself? Then again while those are amazing observations by probably a man who hasn’t been laid in months, and I do say is probably a dirty seditious card carrying member of the right, I simply look to the simpler, and dare I say more petty reasons why this altercation has arisen. My very astute observation being that the left is obviously more jealous that the right is used more in the sacred act of masturbation, but of course that would be seen as a very masculine look on the world but I’m sure the feminine left have a similar quibble or perhaps on the feminine side of the equator it’s more of an appearance thing, the world may never know, though I will tell you one thing is for sure, the left is sure glad more people are right handed since the left are a lazy bunch of sons of bitches. In either case, the history of blogging is a compendium that I do not dare try to write, for the disagreeable north and south would rear their ugly heads, at least that’s the fear of the lefts and the rights to both I‘m sadly proscribe to by birth, and I'm no match for the fury of misdirection hence why I choose not to watch TV News. Now that you know that this is neither left nor right, nor will it go up or down, and will constantly stay in a state of funk, something which I find preferable much like that piece of cheese you seemingly forgot to put back in the fridge, the piece left in the room no one goes in, due to the subconscious fear it’s haunted, by that aunt who slept there once and died, and so there that cheese lies, moldy, and the home of Arthur the cockroach, it’s not really fresh but it’s not exactly rotten, so what else can be said other than it is truly in a state of funk. In which case the Carnival of Death may open its doors to all the children of the world who wish to adorn its dismal theme park.

Who am I? A question that feels as stale as the joke, why did the chicken cross the road? It’s stale because through my vernacular and perhaps the very fact I'm posting on a blog which I did not aptly title clearly shows, like a window at Tiffanies, that I am none other than a wanna-be writer college student. So why is such a pernicious soul such as I, diffusing ideas of an indecipherable nature across the web using a medium known for the pretentious and less-than-lively well it's because I need some rigid structure to my not so rigid structured life in terms of writing. So this will by my new platform for throwing out whatever stories come to mind, much in the same way the sleazy drunk uses a nightclub as a platform to show off his verbose wit to the opposite sex. So let us begin on this magical carpet ride of titillating vanity of a soul who has demonic creatures coiled round it.

The Legend of Wally the Railroad Man!

There once was a train, the A-Train, it was the most efficient trainin the whole catchet of trains that ran at the time. Perhaps it wasdue to good ol'American Craftsmanship but most likely that's a crockof shit, for everyone knew it's because of Wally. Wally was a railroadman, and Wally use to have a saying, "Nobody fucks with the A-Train".Wally was a frenchman, some use to say that his own people desertedhim, which is why he ended up in this shithole. But the legend goesthat Wally found this place all of his own free will, a place where hecould be cruel and malicious as long as it was to those who deservedit but there was always some collateral damage. Wally had a bad eye,so he use to wear this crusty old monacle. Some say it was God's wayof evening the tables, giving Wally one bad eye but if that was thecase why give him two good hands to wreak havoc with? Wally use to also carry around a billyclub to enforce his tyranical rule of the A-train. For when you got beat with Wally's billyclub, it was like being beat by a lumberjack, some use to say that Wally came of lumberjack descent due to his uncouth beard. Now to top off this ridiculous fashion he use to carry around his trustypocket watch. Wally had one love in his entire life andthat was for his billyclub, and the sounds it made during a goodthrashing, it just put ol'wally heart at ease. For you see if you werecaught sneaking on Wally's train, pray to god you had some good healthinsurance because you were going to need it. Wally was devoid ofemotion besides his bloodlust so he never settled down and had afamily. Truth be told no one really knows what happen to Wally. Foryou see Wally was a product of a different time, a time when a goodthrashing is all you needed to keep a train going, now a days you needto be kind to those in need, and hurting people that'd try to wrongthe A-Train just isn't tolerated. So Wally like all the oldinstitutions of America simply faded away, some even question ifol'wally even existed.

LIVE OR DIE IN LA

VOL 1,

The Day I Awoke to The Apocalypse

Prologue- 16 years Ago
Helen was seventeen years old, there she sat at an awkward dinner table, an only child, her parents thought of her as a disgrace. Her mother had made a delicious pot roast, it was a shame it couldn't be enjoyed due to the bitter taste of disgust in everyone’s mouth. The silence was unbearable, it was so that you could hear the chewing of food. All of a sudden Helen just screams out, “You know what, I got a fucking abortion!”. The mother just starts to cry and the father can‘t even look at his daughter. The mother starts prattling on about how the Lord forsakes such things, and how she’s going to hell for sinning against Jesus Christ. Helen responds with, “IT’S NOT LIKE YOU EVEN WANTED ME TO HAVE THE BABY! YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK ALL OF YOU!” And with that, Helen stormed out and never talked to her parents again.

Chapter 1 - Forgotten Dreams
The arrogant sun has risen yet again to sit upon it’s stately throne. The vultures circle the sky, as kings in front of a feast deciding whether to start with the pork roast or the broiled chicken. Hundreds of cars remain motionless on this Nevada state highway as if time has stopped, but there's a simpler reason, all the drivers are dead. In one of the many motionless cars that adorn this dirt encrusten highway, a passenger is remarkably not dead, and she's finally awakening. She awakens, she is in a daze, she looks around, trying desperately to figure out how she got here. For in her mind, only moments ago she was in her designer bathroom, crying in her Jacuzzi that’s worth more than a teacher’s salary in south central, her life force oozing away from the slits in her writs. That was six years ago and now she’s in a car, on a highway, in God knows where, awakening to the apocalypse. The woman’s name is Helen, in the time before the apocalypse she was a super-model, she posed in such popular magazines as Maxim and Playboy, now she nothing. She finally notices that she on a highway with hundreds of cars yet not a single car is moving.

She gets out of her car. She looks into the car next to hers, what she sees is the corpse of a Larry Arthur Miller of 51st Street. Larry’s been dead for about five years, so he’s become home to many organisms especially Benny the worm, whom is currently crawling out of his eye socket. Helen screams and starts running. Helen starts to look in other cars and everyone is dead, her mind is racing she isn’t even considering the fact that these bodies have been dead for awhile. Helen keeps running till she sees a man, she is relieved, but she realizes too late that this is not a man to be running to. For the man’s already put his hand around her mouth, and she's passing out. Helen’s last thought is whether she died and went to hell, and if she did, it’s a lot more mundane than she thought it’d be.

Chapter 2- Acquaintance of the Devil
Helen regains consciousness, she immediately feels her cage, she awakens to the strangest sight. Before her are two women on a log in front of a fire, one is extremely obese and the other is obviously mentally retarded. The fat one greets Helen in that snobbish way that somehow manages to constitute as politeness. Helen immediately begins probing Chunky for some information, Chunky is not so willing to give. Helen does glean that there is a six year gap in between her last memory and her waking up in the car. What’s more shocking is that in those six years there was a nuclear holocaust, and there is no United States anymore. Helen is taken a back and it takes her awhile to grasp what she just was told. Her whole world means nothing, yet what happened in those six years. Chunky seems to bask in Helen’s confusion, and jeers at her. Helen then asks why she is caged. Chunky puts on a big old smile like a Jack A Lantern and says, “Because your to be sold of course!” Helen asks about her and the mentally challenged woman, who occasionally interrupted with a squawk from time to time. Helen learns they are to be sold too, Helen finds this far too insane and starts just pleading to be let out. Chunky just laughs at her in that cruel and callous way that only the ugly of the world do possess. In retaliation Helen begins to scream, Chunky starts yelling at her, “SHUT UP! DO YOU WANT TO ATTRACT RAIDING PARTIES!!!” Helen won’t stop, she’s going scream till she gets what she wants. Chunky is more than happy to give her a good thump on the head with her walking stick, Helen goes down but before she does she notices a black woman in the same plight as her across from her.

Helen once again regains consciousness, she playfully think that hell’s not so bad if they knock you out every time it gets too intense. But then she remembers you always have to wake up eventually. She’s no longer in the cage she now sits by the fire in a circle with other people. She now finally takes in her surrounding which is the dessert. There’s a fire, and there happens to be a donkey tied up, and what appears to be a laundry basket set up. But everyone in the camp minus the black woman seems to be sitting around in this circle around the fire. Chunky and Squawks are sitting in this circle, but playing with Squawks is nine year old girl, next to her is her 16 year old brother, and then the man who had render her unconscious sitting right next to her. The poacher hands her a bowl of beans, the first though to enter Helen’s mind is whether or not it’s poison, she realizes that there are far simpler ways of killing someone. She also realizes that there is a sort of tenderness in the poacher face which takes her back, since this is the man that kidnapped her. She takes the beans, eats it, and then puts on a horrible grimace to show her distain as if she still in one of her many frequented expensive restraints where things are completely autonomous of thought or speech. Chunky just laughs at her saying, “The beans aren’t good enough for your highness?” The poacher tells her to shut up and then turns to Helen.

The poacher says to Helen, “My name is Bill, and I’m asking you clear cut do you want in or out?” Helen is confused by what he means, he further elucidates that the majority of the women he sells to men are here of their own free will and don’t wish to be on their own, except for Wanda over in the cage, she’s here only because she catches a high price with the black tribes. Now being that Helen is a scrawny super-model, it doesn’t look like she will last long in the cold harsh winters so her price would be rather low to which Chunky laughed and Squawk squawked. So Helen can either stay and be eventually sold, or strike it on her own. Bill says all of this in a very kind tone, never once being harsh, just stating the facts of life. Helen ponders this for a moment, on the one hand she’d be safe here but on the other she’s never been dependent on a man and never will be so she decides to strike it off on her own. She gets up and just starts walking.

It’s remarkable how far a person can walk in a matter of minutes, in no time Helen can no longer see the fire and she finally feels alone, for better or worse. Helen decides to finally lay down and bask in the moonlight, she looks up at the sky, the stars are so beautiful. She tries to remember when the last time she could see the stars so clearly. Yet the warmth of the stars could not save her from the arid chill of the Nevada dessert, she sits up and looks out upon the dessert. All she can see are looming shadows, it’s as if she had sent her imagination to a playground and it was having a ball. At one point she thought she saw the shadow of a bear upon her. The next thing that creped in her mind was boredom, a matter of minutes turned into a lifetime, god knows how she'd be able to endure a hour of this. She quickly realized that she had absolutely nothing to think about either, everything that ever mattered to her was gone. In that instant she heard a growl, and she immediately ran. She ran straight back to camp, perhaps for the fear of the beast or simply because she knew she had no other choice.

Chapter 3- The Forge
The camp didn’t ask many question besides Chunky, she kept mocking Helen. Helen seemed to fit right in, like finally the missing piece of the puzzle was finally put in. She did everything a motherly figure would do, she did laundry, looked after the kids, and just made sure everything went smoothly. So time went by rather quickly once she found her role in the camp. The children took well to her, she even spent time with poor Wanda who was caged up, but things between Chunky and her didn’t change much and as a result Squawks wanted nothing to do with Helen as well. Helen and the girl, Sarah, got along really well. Bill was happy that his little girl finally had a motherly figure of sorts, if anything he tried to keep her away from the usual riff-raff he traded but there was something different about Helen, an innate good he sensed within her. And occasionally Helen and Bill would have some alone time, yet most of this time was awkward, like two teenagers in love but each afraid to make a move. This went on for a month, and in this period Helen was actually happy compared to her old life. Then came a fateful night.

One night, Chunky had gone to bed early due to her not feeling well, and the boy and girl had also gone to sleep, and Squawks always goes to sleep early. The aroma of beans permeated in the air, but at this point the smell had been as regular as the arid cold of the dessert. Bill took out his pipe, which he only did on rare occasions when he was in a fine mood, and began to puff on it a bit. Helen and Bill began ruminating on the ethics of what he was doing, Helen still argued what he was doing wasn’t right, she seem to be pleading to the human side she had grown to care for. Bill on the other hand knew deep down there was no other way so he had grown to just rationalize it as something good. So each clashed with rhetorics they both knew to be false yet they trudge on with the good fight as if fighting for redemption of their souls, in some epic battle of words to prove their humanity, which is perhaps why it ended with them in the sand making out like two teenage kids. It begins in pronouncements of love yet is ended by sounds of terror. For they hear the earth shake, and they hear a great stampede. Bill immediately knows it’s a raiding party, he tells Helen to run, and to wake everyone up.

Helen gets up and starts to run toward the first tent, she unties Wanda and tells her they have to go. Helen gets out of the tent with Wanda, she sees the raiding party and panics. Coming out of the emptiness of the dessert are a multitude of cars and motorbikes, the sound of old engines rips through the air like an ancient battle cry. Helen and Wanda just run. They don’t know where but they run with their tails between their legs. They run till they can run no longer, and then they stop, until that point Helen’s mind has been frantic she hasn’t even had time to think, Wanda already knows her next move which is to keep running after she rests. They both sit down and take a breather, Wanda thanks Helen, Helen then realizes what she’s done which is ditch her new surrogate family. Helen starts to weep since she is now alone yet again, Wanda just looks at her funny and asks what’s wrong. Helen responds with, “WE JUST LEFT THEM FOR THE RAIDERS!” Wanda laughs, she laughs a very cruel and callous laugh just as Chunky would always laugh at Helen, Wanda replies, “What is wrong with you, BILL WAS A GOD-DAMN POACHER!” Helen was just astounded, everyone in this world was just so callous, and the only person she found who seem to give a damn, she just left for dead. She decided then and there what she must do is rescue them.

Helen tells Wanda about her plan to rescue them, she just lets out that callous laugh again. Helen tells her that she needs Wanda help, as well. Wanda is just flabbergasted by this, Wanda can not comprehend how someone who just escape the belly of a lion wants to go right back in. Wanda just looks up in hope of some type of answer, all she sees are those same spiraling vultures just waiting for their eventual death so they can feast. Wanda says, “WHY SHOULD I HELP YOU!?”, Helen replies with, “Because you know just as I do what it’s like to be alone in this dreary world, you might survive for a little away but what happens when you run into another tribe? How lucky do you think you are?” Wanda knows she’s right and that she’s better off with them then alone so she agrees to help.

The world maybe barren, desolate, and downright depressing but some things remain constant. So with that in mind, Helen and Wanda venture forth on there mission to rescue a family that intends to sell them into bondage, but in the end it’s all they have. The raider camp has been set up for the night, they have there cars and motor cycle at one end, with a couple of tents set up in the middle, there some scouts on the edge. At the perimeter of the raider camp is a man named Larry, he was a Jew in his past life, but such things matter not unless he had joined up with the tribe of David, but for all intents and purposes his nationality is now raider. Larry, like most of the men in the camp were basically hungering for sex, the last time they actually saw a woman was months ago, at the moment the leader was having his way with Chunky, Larry could hear her lovely song off in the distance, it went something like “AHHH OH MYYYY GOOOODDD!”. So when he saw Helen, it was as if someone had thrown a juicy red steak in front of a tiger, and he just pounced without thinking, and as such he didn’t even noticed the rock go slamming straight into his skull. The sound of his lifeless body hitting the ground made Helen cringe, Wanda was devoid of emotion, she knew what she had to do. They stole his weapon, and made there way further into the camp.

Elsewhere in the camp, there was a tent where brewing was the making of a man. There lie in the tent Sarah and Abrams, Abrams had spent most of his time consoling his sister and making sure she was all right, while at the same time trying to break free of the rope that shackled him. In walks in another member of this notorious gang, he also has been starved of sex, yet he seems to be fixated on Sarah. He starts to move in on Sarah, Abrams of course makes empty threats. Abrams watches on in horror, but at that moment he knows he must save his sister, so he uses all his strength to break free of the bonds, lucky for him, Larry was the one who tied his knot, and his knots suck. As he is released from his shackles, he takes the gun on the table, and just fires till the man is not moving. Before that day Abrams never did a cruel thing before but now he’s experienced what his father has since the day of the holocaust, the will to survive.

The entire camp of raiders hear the gunshot and flood to it, in the meantime Bill finds himself tied to a chair with a blindfold, his heart skips a beat when he hears that gunshot. His heart is racing now, he knows it has to do with his kids, he starts to struggle, and eventually his chair just tumbles to the hard sand. There he lays on the floor in pain and helpless to save his kids. He does something he hasn’t done in many years but it’s the only thing he can do which is pray to God for a miracle. Wanda and Helen walk in, they’re carrying guns and there bloody. They untie Bill, Bill and Helen just look at each other and they understand each other. They give Bill a gun, and Bill then tells them that he’s going create distraction, and he wants them to get the girls and the boy and haul ass. Helen asks what about him, he says that if he doesn’t make it, that she promises to watch over his family. She says no and walks away, Bill walks up to her, put his arm around her, and tells it’s the only way, she says okay.

One raider, Charlie Bowman, was a shrewd man and he also knew to trust his instincts. He knew their was something wrong and that, he was on a sinking ship, he just couldn’t place his finger on it, till he saw Wanda and Helen go into Bill’s tent, while the rest of idiots raced off to the gunshot, Charlie bided his time outside Bill’s tent. He heard what was going on inside, he knew he had a choice, ally with these suckers, or stay as a fucking rat part of this shit crew. All he did was stand by and watch innocent people die, now Charlie wasn’t a good human being but he was not without heart, though it might also have something to do with how he lives in squalor as well. But there’s one thing Charlie knows that in this dessert, you got be one crazy son of a bitch to travel alone. So ol’Charlie decides he’s going help these suckers out and see if this venture more luxurious than this ship wreck. And truth be told he thought Helen was one sexy fox.
Helen is the first to exit the tent, Charlie grabs her by the throat and puts gun to her head. Helen is taken aback, but not because of her plight but because she finds herself slightly turn on. Bill and Wanda walk out next and are in complete puzzlement, they don’t know what to do. Charlie makes the first move, “I know why you’re here and what you plan to do, I’m willing to help you under one condition?” Bill doesn’t trust him but he asks what? That in exchange for his help, they’ll provide him shelter and food. Bill asks how he knows he’s on the up and up, Charlie tells them they don’t. Wanda automatically says no, she knows there’s no conning a conman, but Bill knows there no other way other than to deal with the devil. So they agree, he releases Helen, Helen gives look of Hell’s fury yet deep down she attracted to the slimy character. Bill and Charlie go off to cause a distraction.

In the tent where Sara and Abrams were it’s now crowded with the raiders and there leader. There leader was a tall, broad shoulder man, with scars all over his face, and he didn’t say much, but he was deadly. When he saw Charlie walk in with Bill as his prisoner he was taken back, because he didn’t know what the hell was going on. Charlie explain he found Bill trying to escape, Charlie knew what would happen next they’d attempt to kill Bill so he ask that the kids be led out of the tent. The leader wasn’t without a heart so he allowed it. Once they were out, Charlie knew what he had to do, he took out his gun, and shot the Leader twice in the face, he then turned around and went straight over to the next scariest guy in the tent. That’d be a huge Japanese man, who use to be a sumo wrestler, Charlie knew that he always vied for leadership, and god knows Charlie didn’t want the spot because he knew sooner or later a snake would pop him just as he done. So he told him he was the new leader, and that all he wanted in return was that he take Bill as his prisoner. Bill all of sudden jumps from his docile state and start screaming about how he’s a backstabber. The sumo wrestler accept these terms and Charlie walks out.

Squawks isn’t stupid, she has a mental disability but it doesn’t make her stupid. She knows how everyone perceives her because she can’t communicate her thoughts, but that’s why her and Chunky got along so well. They understood each other, they were both outcasts of a society. So it was right now that she was truly sad for her disability because there was nothing she could do as her only friend was about to kill herself. Chunky did know what to do for the only thing she ever had was her body as silly as it sounded, but she firmly believed her self-worth was tied into being a virgin, and that was stripped from her. She hears a gunshot, Wanda and Helen burst through the door. Helen yells out to Chunky to stop, Chunky asks what does she know about this. Helen walks over slow to Chunky, looks her in the eyes, and tells her she knows. She knows of the pain, of knowing your living a hollow life, the overbearing question of what the point of living, seeing everything stripped from you, of being a lesser being, but in the end it’s all bullshit and your just being a coward. So she says you can either bitch up and live, or sit there and die. She says her and Wanda will be outside. Squawks gives her a pleading look and then walks out. Chunky sighs, and says what the hell, then walks out too.

Helen leads everyone to the cars, they all hop in, Charlie comes out of no where with the two kids, Helen asks where Bill is, he tells her he didn’t make it. She about to cry but she remember he’s speech about bitching up, and just gets in the car and they drive away.

Epilogue - 2 Months Later
Helen stands on the outskirts of a barren town, she looks out into it, wondering how the fuck she got to this point. She wonders about Bill and how he judge her performance leading to this rag-tag group of miscreants and how she’s raised his kids. She wonders if what she’s doing is right, she’s a fucking poacher for Christ sake of her own kind, they just picked up a scared 18 year old girl the other day. She has a meeting tomorrow with someone tomorrow for the selling of Chunky, Squawks is unhappy she can tell, for she’s stop squawking. So there she sits with a gun in one hand, and one eye watching her back. And then she hears that voice, Charlie’s, “Babe come back to bed, we still got round two.” He’s slime, she knows, but there are something that a person need, and that’s one of them. So she returns to bed before another excruciating day begins.

Before she goes to bed she looks up at the huge sign, there camped under, it says, “Welcome to Las Vegas” then she notices those blood thirsty fucking vultures that are always swarming.

The End

DIE INFIDELS!
THE CARNIVAL DEVOURS ALL!

Dialogue:
Commie 1's Sign: "I want bread!"
Commie 2's Sign: "Viva Resistance!"
---
USA: "Oh man, we so sexy, we so fast, GO USA!"
---
Carnival: "Fo' Sure, you dig it?"
---
Terrorist 1: "So about the heat?"
Terrorist 2: "We got a nuke, what more could you want?"

Psalm 151:
The Lost Psalm

1. Blessed are those whom hold no grudge,
their souls as clear as a midsumer's morn.
2. Their souls are beacons of light,
for the Lord's earth shall never go dark.
3. But do not let Satan lull you to sleep,
for with light, there are shadows.
4. In the shadows, lie the abrogations of the land,
they toil every day to destroy the light of the world.
5. Cast out the abrogations of the Lord's land,
for we are the stewarts of the earth.
6.The avarice & scornful will beg for God's mercy,
put them down as you would a rabid dog.
7. For the Lord's creation is like an apple,
pure to the core till the worm burrows deep within.
8. Sin, a limbless creature who slithers on thy belly,
shall coil itself round the souls of the Lord's chosen.
9. A coiled soul shall become a horror to behold,
God's creatures shall transform into soldiers of satan.
10. Satan's Soldiers shall rape, pillage, and plunder,
and the uncoiled souls of the earth shall weep.
11. So I say, take to the earth and uproot the vile,
for they are the abrogations!
12. Maul, Burn, Torture, whatever must be done
to fend off the infestation of sin in the Kingdom.
13. For when the stewards of the garden uproots the weeds,
they shall bask in God's Love.

CHRONICLES OF GERARD THE KNIGHT, VOL. 1

Gerard & The River of Decadence

The symphony of the night was in it’s encore when Gerard had stepped on to the ruins of what once was a road. The rain was crashing down on the ruined road as if kicking an already beaten empire. The road looked to be wailing sobs of regret under a warring night sky that was occasionally lit by the gods arsenal. Gerard was sheathed in armor yet the pangs of blinding light from the barrage of artillery from the war that the Gods were waging, he could not avoid entirely. Gerard, like all soldiers before him, trudge on fulfilling some cosmic duty he did not yet understand. Gerard knew what the others at court thought of him, which was a mere triviality produced by a once great duke who‘s been long dead. Under that prison called a helmet, he knew everything they said, but regardless he knew what he saw. He knew that he had received a message from the god and he was on a holy quest. With that sentiment he trekked through the treacherous battle ground, he trudge on following the crying road.
Gerard was the only honorable knight in the kingdom of the Grove yet his heart was not pure. His heart was dark and calloused, as a farmer’s hands are from all the work in the field. Being exiled to an invisible prison since the moment has been born has hardened his heart so. They say when Gerard was born his own mother screamed when she saw his face, and from thence forth it was decided he shall wear a metal helmet. Unknowingly they did not realize they had thus decreed for the rest of Gerard life would he be an outsider. So his heart carried a plague more devastating than any physical ailment. As he set foot on his journey back to his home, the Kingdom of the Grove, he was blocked by the river of decadence. He shrewdly mapped out a course based off the naked eye and preceded to walk an edge that could be likened to a tight rope. Yet amidst the chaos and turmoil, Gerard was reminded of yester years, in the days before quests and other noble ambitions. To the days of child-hood, the days before the decadence took over, before the armies of evil had marched across the land. The days of playing tight-rope, while all the other boys went to school. He push out such memories and focused on the task at hand. At that precise moment demons arose from the river and descended upon Gerard. Gerard was in no shape for battle so he dove into the river of decadence, his scent of foolish honor was a washed by the stench of evil.
The river of decadence is no normal river, it is a purging of one soul, one either survives or does not. One‘s physical body is not harmed in this battle, but what is the body without the body? Gerard has escape to the ethereal planes, left one deathly ailment for another. For I wish one could say that evil demons and other such monstrosities plague you in the river, but the decadence creeps from our own souls, perhaps that is why it is so devastating, for we are our worst enemies. Gerard is forced to face his self-serving self-righteousness, a callous exterior that was essential to his survival. All these years he manage to keep himself from the scourges of depression, with the believe he was somehow a better person than the sinners around him, and he believe that was proven by the vision.
Gerard finds himself in a memory, he is a spirit who sits back and observes. He sees teenage boy in a metal helmet peering through a hole. He immediately knows who the boy is, it’s himself when he was younger. He tries to turn away but he’s frozen, he is a paralyzed ghost forced to watch what’s going on in front of him. A couple of other teenage boys come by and they stop, and they just start laughing at him. The apparent leader of the group goes over to him, and starts jeering at him about how if he thinks he’s going ever be with the princess then he stupider then he looks. The other guys say that he’s deaf and dumb, and for a moment Gerard is relieve that these morons will pass on, but the leader of the group knows better and sees through Gerard’s ruse. The leader says, “No, it’s all an act this thing can hear us and he damn well knows what I’m saying, so listen up!” The leader kneels in real closely, and points to the scar on his face. He tells him that he’s a man, and he got that hunting, and that’s why a freak like Gerard will never get with the princess, and he will. Then the leader and the other kids leave, Gerard falls down, and you can hear the faint sounds of crying. Gerard has had enough and screams, “ENOUGH!” The memory disappears and Gerard finds himself in utter blackness, and then a voice booms, “GERARD, YOU ARE CHARGED WITH VANITY AND UNPURE MOTIVE IN THE FACE OF THE GODS!” Gerard just falls to the floor, and starts crying. “KILL YOURSELF AND BE SAVED!” A knife is revealed, Gerard stares at it and understands, he has disgraced the Gods, and this is his punishment, he took this quest for reasons of vanity, not for the Gods. Gerard takes the knife and stabs himself in the stomach, and screams in pain.
Gerard is struck with fear, his demons have coiled around his heart, his heart beat slows, the demons have release there hold and die. He sees a white light, it’s the Gods of the woods they deliver a message. “Gerard, you are our champion, remember your mission is for us, and all shall be yours”, the light dissipates. He emerges from the river, gasping for air, for he has won, for he has purged his demons, for he is not pure, but he is good.
Gerard, shed of his armor, purged of his self-righteousness, and drenched from the river of decadence trudges on again. He faces one last obstacle till he can safely reach his den. He stands before the darkness, the light of the gods can not pervade down into this ghastly forest, Gerard’s only consolation is the shortness of this final part of his trek. Armed with the light of his noble ambition he trudges on into the darkness. The evil from below tries to grab at his feet, Gerard weaken, so he runs, he runs as fast as he can but alas he faces the monster which guards his path, he is weak and tired. Gerard takes out his sword, and goes in for one strike, he strikes to kill, he has only enough energy for one attack, he aims for the heart.

TO BE CONTINUED!