My Fanhood

Hey everyone! Sorry about the late post here today but work was a bit more taxing than normal last night.

 

As I’ve foreshadowed recently on twitter and mentioned in the blog update earlier this week today’s blog post is about my fanhood. Before I get into that though, I just want to ask everyone reading this post to take the time to check out one of my blog subscribers Shoom Isaacs music based podcast and blog over here. She’s a very talented person who has a great ear for music and is doing some very refreshing things in today’s world of music that seems to be lacking the substance that our parent’s music once carried.

 

Where do I begin…

 

Me and Alabama head coach Nick Saban in statue form.

Me and Coach Saban

Well, you could say I was born into an Alabama family. With my dad being born and raised in Tuscaloosa, Alabama and my mom growing up a few miles outside of Tuscaloosa in Samantha, Al. You could almost say I was destined to be an Alabama fan. The truth though is, as a kid I wasn’t even too big of an Alabama football fan. Sure, I liked them and the colors were my favorite but as a youth I was more into basketball than anything. Basketball is and forever will be my first love and I never even considered the idea of playing football. LOL I could remember going to friends house and they’d play 7 on 7 and I’d sit off to the side to do “Commentary”. I honestly didn’t get too deeply invested into Alabama football or any college football at all until I was in middle school. At this time my dad used to tell me a bit more about his college years and would tell me of how he always dreamed of going to Alabama but because of tensions at the time he never was allowed the opportunity. At the time and even now I still didn’t really buy that from my dad, but what I did buy from that was my dad’s genuine admiration of another program I became a fan of…..

USC logo

Southern Cal

The way my dad’s voice and entire demeanor changed when he talked about USC shocked me. I mean, having grown up around my old man and seen his dismissive attitude toward everything college football related it had been years(1992) since I saw him have any sort of positive attitude about USC. So, every day on the way to school I’d ask him more about those times and learn about OJ Simpson, and how Southern Cal’s trouncing of Alabama basically did more for sports integration in the state than any piece of legislation could. Around that same time Pete Carroll began to revive the program and of course I became a fan! Talented players along with that “Cool” vibe that came from being in L.A.? USC was the business! hahaha. Though personally in retrospect now, I believe the only reason my dad was such a big fan of Southern Cal was due to his unhealthy love for the Los Angeles Lakers. ‘Course, this post isn’t about his fanhood. Now, while I’ve got you here there’ s one other sports program I’m an absolute fan of…

Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, and Dennis Rodman.

Jordan, Pippen, and Rodman unbelievaBULL.

The biggest thing I was a fan of as a child and even now at times is the Chicago Bulls. A lot of that has to do with my unhealthy admiration of Michael Jordan and his exploits of sports athletics and swagger. The rest had to do with seeing the passionate fanbase and the efforts their teams put forth no matter the talent level. No can ever convince me that there was a greater NBA team than the 96 Bulls squad that won 72 games. I mean, to this day I can remember the starting lineup music and every player on the roster from the Bill Wennington’s to the 10 day contracts of free agent guard Randy Brown. It was insane to see what that squad to do night in and night out on a basketball court because of how much pride they took in WINNING. Not only that, but they did in an era where the NBA still had some of it’s remaining grit from the 80’s.

 

Now, since I’ve listed my three fanhoods I’d like to point out a few peculiarities about myself in regard to being a fan of a sports team.

 

#1. I have never have and never will own a jersey with another athlete’s name on the back.

- I don’t know if it’s a mental thing because I played sports at a high level, or just some sort of inner narcissistic streak but I just can’t do it. Hahaha.

#2. Up until recently, I have never really owned a lot of my teams paraphernalia.

-As a kid I had maybe 1-2 shirts Bulls championship shirts and one or two Alabama windsuits haha. But other than that I never really owned any team gear outside of a team I played for. It wasn’t anything against or about me supporting my programs I just have never been too big on what type of clothes I wore and what not. As I’ve gotten older that’s changed considering the assortment of Alabama gear and Bulls attire I’ve accumulated. I still need to acquire some Trojans swag at some point though.

 

 

I think this sums up my fanhood, hope you guys enjoyed learning a bit more about me.  Before you guys go, if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor and checking out a great source of information on Alabama Football over at The Houndztooth.com. They’re a great source for all things related to Alabama Athletics and will keep you up to date with the latest in college football recruiting, through their ensemble cast of awesome writers and good folks!

 

Here’s an update to the blog schedule:

 
07/26 – Original piece
07/28 – Original piece
07/30 – Music post.
08/01 – New Audio blog Controversial Jack!

Future blogging schedule, short excerpt, and idealistic thoughts!

Hey all, welcome back to An Insomniac’s Dreams!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted so I’ve decided to make this update as action packed as I could. So, let me get started by posting the upcoming blogging schedule.

07/19 – Sports related blog.
07/20 – Something for my big sister’s birthday.
07/22 – MMP promotion
07/24 – Original piece
07/25 – Original piece
07/26 – Music post.
07/27 – Audio blog

So, that’s 1,2,3, – 7! Yes, SEVEN blog posts on the way in the near future! I’ve already gotten 3 of them prepared so I really look forward to seeing what you guys think of things.

Also, very recently I had a birthday. Birthday swag

Sure, I don’t look very enthused..but off of 3 hours of sleep eh, who could blame me? Had a pretty solid day on that evening with my sister’s taking me out to eat and another friend treating me to the movies. Weekend wasn’t what I expected but, I finally got to see Maleficent and make a trip to the arcade with one of my good buddies! I also obtained Mario Kart 8! so, a lot of Luigi DEATH STARE has been going on.

Before I get to the excerpt, I’d like to make a formal request of my readers and all future readers as I’ve had an ideal in my head for a while I’d like to share it with you folks. For the longest time I’ve always envisioned this blog becoming something more than a release for all my creative energy each time something in my life has frustrated me or dampened my spirits. Now that I’ve had it around for a bit longer and developed a bit more of an identity I’ve begun to expect more. I would really appreciate it you guys began to help me turn this little humble blog into a bustling community of writers, readers, and creative people in general. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how you can help me build this community…well for starters you can help me out by being a bit more active in the comments. Share your thoughts with other readers and try to interact with them more when you agree or disagree with their thoughts. Make new friends and in a lot of cases follow their blogs as well. I’ve had lots of consistent commentary from several very talented and awesome folk. I’d love to see you guys support them as well so we can build a unique chain of give and take all the while developing something extraordinary and uplifting! So, if you agree with this chain of thought and want to help please help me out by following and adding these great folks to your blog read as well.

 

Sammus- Super dope music and updates on the career of one of my favorite artists.

 

Nike Writes- Introspective, timeless, and awe inspiring writing from one of my mentors. :)

 

Dyscyplnynary Action- Reviews of music, life, and general awesomeness.

 

Put a Wedge In It- Relationship coaching, writing, and introspective from another of my writing mentors.

Chanice Nykole- Another one of my talented friends. She offers meal plans, positive messages, and can SANG!

In The Mix With Shoom- Exclusive music, interviews, and material from talented podcast host Shoom Isaacs. Someone I’ve become a very big fan of lately.

The Superficial Queen- One of my favorite writers who’s work will always evoke some sort of emotion from you. Check her out!

 

The Houndztooth.com- Sports blog that covers one of the most rabid fanbases in all of sports.

New Mommy New Life Style- Blog home of a fairly new writer friend of mine who I think has the potential to really carve out a special place here in our world!

 

Eddie Lamar Sharpe Jr- Home to one of the writer’s I respect most on the web. Very introspective and very talented author on the rise.

 

Mocha Memoirs Press- Home to erotic fiction and some of the most talented writers I’ve ever interacted with!

It’s actually MMP’s birthday month, here are some unique details on what’s to come!SaleBanner2014

Mocha Memoirs Press began in 2001, but reopened our doors in July 2010 with the hope of spotlighting fantastic fiction in the genres of science fiction, horror, fantasy, and romance. Each year we do something fun for our birthday, and this year will be nodifferent.

Since we’re giving gifts, it’s Christmas in July! What’s in our holiday sack?

Gift #1-New fiction! Four new titles will launch our TOIL, TROUBLE, AND TEMPTATION line.

Gift #2- MMP GIFT bag. It will include the following:

  1. A sample of our books (both horror anthologies, a science fiction title, two erotic romance titles, and a fantasy title).
  2. A MMP tee-shirt.
  3. A MMP journal to write down your own inspiring ideas.
  4. Starbucks® coffee
  5. Other surprise goodies.
  6. All will be contained in a MMP cloth bag.

(You have to sign up for the MMP Newsletter to enter. More details to follow on our blog and our Facebook group).

Gift #3-Black Friday sale in the summer-All Christmas and holiday stories are .99!

Gift #4-Sizzling Deals for HOT summer nights-All erotic romance titles are $2.99 or LESS!

Gift #5-Select science fiction, fantasy, and horror titles are $1.00 or 0.99.

 

 

There’s a few more writer/blogger folk I’d like to promote, but this is all I could squeeze in for now. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, here’s an excerpt from a piece I’m currently revising and preparing to share with the world. I hope you all enjoy and PLEASE leave me some commentary after you finish reading!

 

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The Emissaries of Evil were busily explaining their employer’s insurance policy to a client.

 

Of course as the Emissaries of Evil were criminals, the insurance policy they were selling was far better than one you’d receive from a legitimate company. When a criminal sells you an insurance policy it is absolutely certain that the disaster he’s selling it for will occur if you don’t pay.

 

The Emissaries of Evil were stressing this point.

 

“You know,” said Ray, the group’s field leader, “Egghead doesn’t like to be let down…”

 

“I’m very sorry sir,” muttered the storekeeper.

 

“With the Emissaries of Evil, you don’t get sorry,” whispered Ken. “What you get is hospital bills if we don’t get paid.”

 

“Do you want a demonstration?” asked Bruce, the most violent of the four enforcers.

 

“Yeah, ’cause we can do that!” said Jim, his voice subtly muffled by his faceplate.

 

“See?” laughed Ray. A man did not become an enforcer at his young age without a damn terrifying laugh.

 

“The general opinion in this room is you should pay up…”

 

The shopkeeper was not a brave man, but he considered that a better option than being a brave corpse. He began to get them the money. That was when the whistling started. It was shrill, slightly off-key, and had a quality that caused your teeth to chatter in your skull. Ray glanced at the others. Criminals are, as a rule, rather uneasy at having a protection shakedown being observed, as witnesses rarely grasp the subtle nuances of the deal.

 

“Ken. Bruce. Go outside. See who it is.”

 

The pair nodded and headed out.

 

Jim glanced at Ray, clearly offended. “How come you always send them out first?”

 

Ray froze for a second. This would take some thought. “Because you’re the only one I trust to guard me.”

 

“Oh. Thanks, Ray!”

 

Ray breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Bruce returned. “Umm, guys—you should see this….” They followed him out.

 

There, on the side of a building, a young man in a red cape stood whistling.

 

This was far more disconcerting than it sounded, as he was quite literally standing on the side of the building, as if it were the ground, while gravity failed to have the least effect on him. The Emissaries stared at him awhile. Finally, Ray coughed. “Um—excuse me—what are you doing…?”

 

The young man turned to look at him. His face was astonishingly pale, and rather strikingly ugly. He shrugged with almost suspicious casualness. “I’m out for a walk.”

 

Ray glanced away. The longer you looked at the young man, the more you got the horrible feeling that you were the one in defiance of the laws of physics. “On the side of a building?” asked Ray forcefully. This resulted in another shrug. “It’s the only way to beat the smog, really.” The boy gave a mild laugh. “Can you believe they’re selling air now? I mean—air. Sad, isn’t it?”

 

Jim scratched his head—or tried to, the large metal helmet getting in the way. “Are you a superhero?”

 

The young man snapped his fingers in apparent frustration. “Damn. You had to ask that question.” He sighed. “Yes. Yes. I am.” And with that he leapt off from the wall, floating down with eerie grace. He glanced at the Emissaries confidently. “So I guess now comes the part with all the screaming, and the yelling, and the cries of mercy, and the passing out?” He looked around distractedly. “Could you promise not bleed on me too much? I’m finding the dry cleaning bills horrible.”

 

Ray stared at him. “Do you realize who we are, idiot?”

 

His opponent scratched his chin in thought. “An all-male Judy Garland impersonation group that’s turned to evil?”

 

Ray frowned. “No!”

 

“Oh,” said the superhero in resignation. “Liza impersonators, then?”

 

“NO!” shouted Ray, offended.

 

Now he seemed puzzled. “Don’t tell me you’re not all male?”

 

It was at that point that Bruce lost his temper. “We are the Emissaries of Evil, you fool!”

 

“Gosh,” laughed the hero bashfully. “That was going to be my next guess! Boy, I’m bad at these things…”

 

“Shut up!” shouted Bruce. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with! Well, we will tell you!”

 

The young man nodded. “Right, right. And then we’ll get on to the part with all the screaming, and the yelling, and the cries of mercy, and the passing out…”

 

Bruce raised his hands, revealing gauntlets with buzzsaws built into them. “I am the Gladiator! Master warrior, and assassin!”

 

“Because power tools just scream ancient Roman ritual warrior…” muttered the young man.

 

“Quiet!” screamed Bruce.

 

Ken threw off his cloak, and flexed his muscles, revealing the greyish bodysuit underneath it. “And I am— Rhino! I have the strength and the charging power—of a rhino!”

 

Ray summoned a solar flare at the tips of his fingertips. “I am their leader, Solarr—the solar-powered man!”

 

Jim stepped forward, and started up his suit’s power cells. An eerie blue glow covered him. “And I am Cobalt Man. The—well, cobalt powered man…”

 

The man nodded. “Took you a while to come up with those names, didn’t it? I bet you strained your minds and stayed up the entire night, trying to think of something that conveyed the awesome spectacle of might that is you…”

 

Ray snarled. “Listen you—laugh all you want…you’re outnumbered four to one!”

 

The young man smiled slightly. “But don’t you want to know who I am…?” He spread his hands, and waved them menacingly. “I am… DR. STRANGE!” There was a peal of thunder, which was quite unusual when you considered that there were no clouds out at the moment. “Master of the Five Elements! Wielder of mystic forces beyond the mortal ken! Guy who can talk in a really florid manner, and use lots of adjectives!” Dr. Strange stared at them forcefully. “Can you say these things as well? Can you even understand them?” He smiled. “Please respond. We’d be delighted to hear from you.”

 

****************

 

So, what’d you guys think? I know it’s a bit unpolished but, this is just a small segment of what I’m working on. Leave comments below and thanks all!

Wrote a bit recently, thought I should share!

Hey guys! Been a while since I updated sooooo here you go! here’s an excerpt from my continuing story Unreal Estate hope you folks enjoy!

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‘Tidying up’ was too cutesy of a word for it. Mallory was a lean, mean cleaning machine. Whatever machismo he could gather unto himself he did, eliminating dust and dirt like a focused filth assassin. He was the Zen master of tidying up—a familiar and comfortable state of daily routine.

He ran the dust-sweeper around the corner of the coffee table, eliminating a dustball kicked up by Eiko’s playing—Most Terrible Lizard King™ was doing battle with Peacemaker Pretty Soldier Biiko™ in her lovely pink camouflage with matching pink non-violent stun weapons, and so far the only casualty was the carpeting.

He scooped up the end result of the horrors of plastic war, then rounded the next corner, asking Lorelei to put her legs up—she promptly put them behind her head, which made him do a bit of a double take, but then it was back to the Zen cleansing routine.

Kisei smoothly shifted her legs onto the L-bend in the couch before Mallory even got there, opting for the more sensible route of simply relocating them while giving Lorelei her usual look of mild disdain. As usual, Lorelei bit back with a sarcastic comment which Kisei ignored, as she resumed writing in her journal.

The carpets finished, it was time to break out the feather duster. He ran it over the various framed pictures of Eiko and Meiko from their earlier days, and took special care to clean the one recent group photo they had taken during the Nippon stopover; the only picture of Mallory in the House, and most importantly, the only picture where Mallory and Meiko were together…

On a whim, he walked over to the RealNet Workstation where Meiko was browsing job listings, and dusted her a bit. She flinched and then sneezed when he flicked the duster over her face… and they both shared a laugh, a wonderfully silly and heartfelt laugh.

Just one perfect moment in time, one which Mallory never wanted to end. If he spent the rest of his days like this, with all of them, he’d be the happiest man in the multiverse…

In order to maintain that happiness, he tried his best to ignore the ghost. Dusting Meiko’s Workstation screen a bit, he moved on to dusting the engine in the alcove behind her. Then he’d have to head to the kitchen and clean up Meiko’s last attempt at proving her worth in the field of cooking, and he could move on to the laundry…

The ghost stood in his way. His expression hadn’t changed since he got there—one of anticipation, of prompting. Prompting Mallory to take some sort of action…

“Leave me alone,” Mallory said, pushing past him. “I’m happy. Just leave me alone… I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to. Not against him—”

Him. The memory alone broke his trance, and broke his wonderful moment.

Because immediately, he was there. And he didn’t wait, he didn’t pause, just as before—he simply burned it. All of it. In one horrifying moment everybody he knew and loved was gone in a flash of purple fire. All that remained was himself and himself and himself. Mallory and Mallory and Mallory, Mallory and the ghost M and the killer Multi…

Multi, who was wearing a sweatshirt much like Mallory’s, except with the black and the white of its yin-yang reversed.

Mallory awoke in an instant. It was better to wake an hour ahead of schedule than to have nightmare after nightmare.

Short action scene from an upcoming story

Hope you all enjoy this bit. Wrote it out last night after I finished doing a bit of reading.

 

*****

 

“Akiko the Empty, I presume?” Richmond Gray asked of what appeared to be thin air.

“That is correct, Silent Knife,” the thin air replied. “How did you know I was here?”

Gray laughed slightly. “Why, I would have to be blind to miss a woman of your beauty.”

“You have nowhere to run to this time, Knife. No girders to hide behind, no corners to run to. Just a big empty stone room.”

“Ah, you forget the rubble and bodies behind me. Mostly my allies’ work, of course, so messy. But effective nonetheless.”

“You have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run,” taunted Akiko. “I can see everything you do, but you can’t see me. You will die.”

“Of course I will die,” said Gray cheerfully. “Everyone dies. However, it still remains in question if you will be the one to kill me.”

“Then let us answer it,” said Akiko as she launched a flight of her tiny needles.

Needles that the Silent Knife effortlessly sidestepped.

“Impressive,” said Akiko as she moved stealthily to a new location, the voice software on her suit echoing it so as to make it seem like she hadn’t moved at all. “But can you do it again?” Another volley, and another effortless sidestep.

“You shouldn’t rush so much,” suggested Gray. “This is only our second date, after all. I’m sure you can do better than that.”

Akiko mentally cursed and moved. Perhaps the voice software was defective? Or maybe he was just good enough to hear through it. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t be so lucky next time. Aiming perfect for his lower back, she shot-

-and he dodged again, a single quick movement that left his coat hanging in the breeze, so fast you couldn’t even see him move.

Akiko fired again and again quickly, but with no more effect than the first time. Snarling, she began moving as rapidly as she could while remaining stealthy, firing at uneven intervals. Left, right, even up onto the walls and ceiling, it didn’t seem to make any difference. Every shot was precisely dodged with seemingly no effort at all.

Richmond Gray turned to face her, to face the invisible her that he should be able to see, and he said, “Do you want to know how I can do that?”

Mentally, she screamed YES, but her pride and honor would not allow her to beg out loud. Instead, she moved slowly, as quietly as she could, to the left.

Gray’s eyes followed her. She froze, and so did his eyes.

“The thing most people don’t realize,” he said cheerfully, “is that every weapon has strengths and weaknesses. There is no such thing as a perfect weapon. Take your needles, for instance. They are weaker and slower than bullets, but also smaller and without the flash and bang of guns. A good weapon for someone like yourself who hides in the shadows as an invisible presence. Better to give up power and speed to maximize your invisibility. However, this choice creates new weaknesses even as it gives you strengths. In this case, the slow speed of the needles gives me time to dodge after I hear them being fired.”

“But how do you know where the needles are coming from?” Akiko nearly screamed. “How can you tell where I am?”

The Silent Knife began to walk slowly forward, straight at Akiko’s fearful form. “The weakness of your suit,” he said happily, “is sound. I couldn’t take advantage of it at the club with all the terribly loud music, but in this place it is simple to hear your footsteps and keep track of your location.”

“Th-that’s impossible! My stealth is perfect! It’s impossible for you to hear me!”

“My dear, you are wearing a suit of metal mesh and walking on stone. You are very quiet, but far from total silence. You provide just enough sound for me to locate you.”

“How can you hear me when I can’t even hear myself?” asked Akiko as she desperately raised her arm and shot a last volley of needles at the slowly approaching figure. He dodged aside and rushed forward the last few feet, twirling his knife to cut through Akiko’s crossbow and press against her invisible throat in one fluid motion.

My Writing Process:

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What are you currently writing?

I haven’t gotten much time to write as I usually like between my job and this school semester rapidly coming to an end. But, when I’m afforded the time to write I’ve been working on three very different stories. Yet another rewrite for Magical Girl Hunters, making some edits for consistency with Unreal Estate, and an untitled mob/mafia action story.

What makes your work different?

I think my work is different because I do my best to incorporate different elements that have entered my interests or life and try to turn them into something everyone can relate to. With Magical Girl Hunters it’s my take on several different anime with a hint of Tarantino-esque and Noir. With Unreal Estate it’s that classic Rom-com that everyone loves to take their date too minus the clichés. The manner in which I present these different mediums and my ability to make them appealing to all readers is what I feel makes my work different.

Why do you write what you do?

I write what I do most of the time as a coping mechanism. I’ve dealt with some pretty nasty and unfortunate circumstances in my life so I use my writing in order to escape from all the negativity that tries to dominate me. It’s actually pretty funny, when I’m pretty content or in decent spirits I won’t write much of anything at all and I tend to get really lazy about it. If I’m angry, depressed, or oozing negativity from my pores then I can rattle off 10,000 words of texts in a few hours if I’m left to my own devices.

What is your writing process?

When I first began writing, I used to do the online roleplaying thing. Via e-wrestling and chat rooms when I was in middle school. E-wrestling roleplaying used to consist of writing promos or vignettes for characters and addressing your opponent and developing an ongoing story a your opponents wrote their own vignettes in response. As a former athlete I’ve always been real competitive, so back then I used to spend hours on end writing, working, and tweaking these vignettes to make them look like some of the text I’d read in books. Back then I was reading a lot of different types of literature but most of it consisted of traditional pieces like Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and The crucible. But outside of school I was diving into graphic novels from Marvel and DC with a lot of Japanese anime starting to pepper my interests. All of these influence led to me developing different concepts a certain way which has continued on to this day.

 

Step 1: Imagine a setting. In a lot of cases I’d do this by going out at night to a park or something. Or just when I rode in the car with my dad somewhere imagining an area and writing down everything I could think of about it. From how it felt, the colors, what type of bugs were around, etc.

Step 2: Develop a character. This is something I’ve never had issue with as each time I’ve ever written someone they’ve always been based off of someone in my life. When I first came up with the idea for Controversial Jack for example I’d been reading up on a lot of characters like Xelloss from the Anime Slayers and Loki from Marvel. Once I developed that main character the next step would be pretty easy….

Step 3: Give that character a supporting cast and goals. This has always been easy for me. I consider myself pretty good at this due to a lot of my influences. I’ve actually got a word document on my computer full of different characters that I will sort through and pull from whenever necessary in order to best align them with my protagonist/antagonist.

Step 4: Develop the scenery. Basically figure out where I want the story to take place and what type of time frame the story will take place in.

Step 5: Write. The easiest part of the process.

 

Eh, I think that sums it all up. For now, let’s consider this “Draft 1″ for now lol. The next person in this blog tour will be http://thequeenofthesuperficial.wordpress.com/ I’m sure her writing process will be infinitely more interesting than my own. Hope you folks enjoy!

MGH Scene 3 w/Audio

 

Here’s another scene from Magical Girl Hunter Chapter 1 in audio form. This is scene 3, I hope you guys enjoy.  PLEASE leave commentary so I can learn how to improve these pieces.

 

I have to say that Marc is damn good at darts. I guess he’s just talented in anything that involves throwing sharp objects. I don’t know… I suck at it, myself, so I was pretty relieved when I heard a knock on the door. Eight o’clock, right on the nose. It seemed that our client was one eager beaver. I quickly shoved the dart board underneath one of the many unruly stacks of papers that covered the two desks in our office (I know this wasn’t the best place, but hey it’d work for the short term right?) and went to open the door. What I saw was not a good sign. The guy was covered from head to toe. What he couldn’t hide with his long, black coat, he hid with sunglasses, a derby, a scarf, gloves, and galoshes. The whole setup just screamed, “Look at me! I’m trying to be inconspicuous!” I mean, it’s not a requirement that our clientele possess a modicum of intelligence, but it sure helps! Still, a client was a client.

“Welcome Mr. ‘Insidious Marduk’ was it?” I greeted him, smiling.

“Shh! Not so loud,” he loudly whispered, accentuating his request by putting his finger up to where I guessed his lips must have been. I fought back the urge to roll my eyes and ushered him inside. Once there, the first thing he noticed was the first thing everyone who comes to our office notices: the typical short skirt most magical girls wear was pinned to the wall. I had heard Marc call it a ‘fuku’. Apparently girls in Japan wore those things as a uniform from primary school up until they graduated from high school. Moving on, it never belonged to any magical girl, mind you. I actually bought it online from a school supply store in Japan. Initially, I put it up there as a joke, but it seemed to have quite an effect on our clientele. Anyhow, once he got over that, he took off his get up, and I saw that he was probably justified in wearing it. I mean, as conspicuous as that cute little costume was, it wasn’t quite as conspicuous as a huge, blue skinned guy, with four arms, three eyes, and no visible nose to speak of. Marc reluctantly got out of his seat and offered it to Marduk. We only have two chairs, you see and it was his turn to give up his as I’d donated my seat for the last client. I turned my seat around and straddled it taking up the informal sitting position all the cool kids used in high school.

“Well, I believe that introductions are in order,” I reasoned cheerfully. “I am Wil, and this is my partner, Marc.” Marc actually managed to wave. Sure, he didn’t bother to pick his head up or look anywhere near Marduk, but it was quite an improvement, anyway.

“It was very wise for you to come to us with your particular… problem,” I continued. “We’re specialists in the field, you know.” Marduk just nodded, his eyes darting around the room like gnats on cocaine.  “Mr. Marduk, I assure you that we’re completely safe here,” I said using my best soothing voice. I was pretty good at getting people to calm down. Like Qualudes without the side effects. “I… I’m sorry,” stammered Marduk. “It’s just that… I’ve been on edge ever since…”

“I understand what you’re going through,” I sympathized, doing my best to ooze compassion from every pore. Sure, I interrupted the putz but I hate hearing how pathetic these clowns sound.  “It must be terrible for you.”

“I mean, it’s not like mine is the only organization of this sort, why doesn’t she pick on someone else for a change?!” Marduk’s voice had a pitch so annoyingly high I thought my head would explode. Any sort of pity I wasn’t feeling had to be covered up though, the poor guy was close to tears.

“They tend to ‘latch on’ to specific groups and badger them incessantly,” I explained, doing my best psychiatrist impersonation. “Our studies have shown that their ‘obsession complex’ develops early on, usually regarding the first organized business they run into… they’ll continue their terrorist activities towards that one group until they are stopped or it is at the very least destroyed.” Insidious Marduk gulped; little beads of sweat beginning to slide down his forehead. He was really worried now. “Really, it’s an obvious crime; what these parasites have done to entrepreneurs, such as yourself. Of course, the police don’t want to have to deal with the problem, and the public certainly isn’t pressuring them to. I’m afraid they’re image has become quite positive. So you see, you’re not only helping yourself, by enlisting our aid. You’re also providing a valuable public service…”

Ah, the ol’ rationale. See, despite the… shall we say less than morally sound nature of the organizations (okay, gangs) that Insidious Marduk headed. The idea of hiring someone to… well… to blow the heads off of little girls magical or not sometimes didn’t sit entirely well with them. I mean, they might constantly go on about offing the squirts themselves, but the simple fact that they were always guaranteed to fail, meant that they never really considered what that would really entail. They had to, when they hired us, though. We had a ninety-nine percent success rate. “If… if you say so,” he conceded, calming down visibly.

“So who do you want us to kill?” asked Marc. I swear, that boy has no sense of human (well, near human) relations. “Marc,” I chided, “You know we don’t use that word here. Its ‘remove from active operation,’ remember?” Marc gave me a look of quiet disgust, but didn’t agitate the situation further, thankfully.

“Her… her name is,” He began, before pausing. Insidious Marduk’s eyes started shifting again and he lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, “Captain Cute.” He started rummaging through his pants pocket and produced a dog-eared photo. “This is her picture. Please! I’ll pay you anything! Half my staff’s quit already!”

“Have no fear, Mr.Marduk,” I assured pleasantly, plucking the photo from his hand. “You can consider your problem solved.”        

MGH: Scene 2 w/ Audio!

For those who missed the first scene’s audio http://wildpalazzo.wordpress.com/2014/05/08/we-have-audio/

 

 

 

Here’s the text, click play above and give a listen. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Thanks for visiting!

 

Now, I’m sure you’ve got some question after what just what went down.  Well, before I delve too deep into things, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Wil. Wil D. Palazzo. I’m a magical girl hunter. What’s a magical girl hunter you ask? Basically, I’m a hired assassin who accepts hits on female superheros for a reasonable fee. I know this isn’t the most noble of ventures in the world, but hear me out before you rush to any sort of asinine judgments. The work I’m doing is a necessity in a world where these jokers run rampant with no regard for collateral damage. The way I look at is, we’re doing people a civic duty by eliminating these sources of increased insurance rates. Business had been picking up recently. We used to have long gaps between -real- work, which unfortunately had to be filled by “working” in the kinds of establishments where we got those burgers from. Now we had a waiting list. I’d like to think that this was because we had developed a widespread reputation, but I knew what the real reason was; they were multiplying like cockroaches. With each day that passed there was another new paragon of cuteness and heroism appearing. Despite that, it was good for business. I mean, after all, now we could afford to eat the kind of food we used to have to serve on a consistent basis.

I had a lot of time to think about this kind of stuff, while I was driving to work, because my partner Marc’s really not the chatty type. No, he’s more of the type of person that could be a real role model for suicidal teens. He prefers staring off into space over small talk, which I can’t say I mind, but it does make for rather boring car rides. I briefly thought of saying something to him as we pulled up at the stop light, but when I looked at him, I felt compelled to check myself in the mirror. See, Marc’s kinda scuzzy looking. He was of Asian descent and his uncombed black hair seemed to form a shroud over his face. Not only that but he had a five o’clock shadow, and didn’t seem to want to be bothered with shaving. Sometimes, I feel grungy just looking at him, and this was one of those times. You’d probably be correct if you called it obsessive-compulsive of me. Unlike my partner I was more of a clean cut fellow. Hair trimmed and edged up to perfection and there wasn’t a black wittle hair not perfectly aligned within my goatee. I gave my reflection that winning smile of mine, and then resumed the driving as the light turned green.

After a short time I pulled up to a large ordinary looking office building; this was the place that housed our business office. There was nothing about it that seemed to stick out in any form of fashion but, it suited our purposes perfectly. We quickly slipped out of the car and into the building. After a brief elevator ride we found ourselves strolling into our office. Taking a quick glance at my watch I took note of the time before speaking aloud.  

“Hmmm… Looks like we have some time to kill,” I mused.

“Yes… we do,” replied Marc, in the same way you might say, “My mother died today.”

“Darts or Black Jack?” I questioned him with a sly smirk making its way upon my face.

“Darts… you always cheat at Black Jack.” He replied in the very same tone.

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