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#TheDefenders Snippet Dr Strange vs Hellcat and Son of Satan

Hellcat

Hey all. Just a quick blog update before I head to work. Will spruce things up a bit more later on when I get away from work, until then hope you all enjoy!

 

Everyone give a special birthday shout out to #insomniacfamily member Shoom Isaacs today!(March 17th)

 

**

 

“So,” muttered an AIM member, “which of us will get the U-ray?”

 

Someone cleared their throat. “I believe the correct answer is ‘none of you’.”

 

It took everyone a moment to realize that the speaker was a pale young man in a rather expansive cape that had somehow wound up standing in the middle of them. He fidgeted nervously, as all eyes went on him. “Mind you—I’m just guessing. No need to take it seriously…”

 

“Who are you…?” said Sagittarius suspiciously.

 

“I’m Dr. Strange,” stated the young man with a nervous chuckle. He raised his hand. “Now, please back away from the van so that this whole affair ends to the satisfaction of all.”

 

“Or what…?” muttered a HYDRA agent menacingly.

 

A shimmying vortex appeared in Dr. Strange’s hand. “Or else, I will unleash the POWER OF THE TEMPEST!” A great blast of wind sent most of his opponents off their feet. “Winds! Buffet them! Lightning! Stun them! Rains! Umm…get them wet…” Elemental powers surged around him, tossing around the various agents as if they were kindling. In a few moments, most of the agents were lying prone on the ground, with the exception of those who were lying prone in trees, and prone on the tops of buildings.

 

Jameson glanced around, surprised. “That went immensely better than expected,” he commented quietly.

 

At that moment an arrow buried itself in the ground at his feet.

 

“Halt evildoer!” came a high voice.

 

Jameson rolled his eyes and whimpered. “Oh, perfect…” He turned.

 

“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” announced Karen in a lofty tone she considered awe-inspiring, “I just know that I don’t like it.”

 

Jameson sighed. “Well, it’s good to know you put a lot of thought into this…”

 

Karen leveled another arrow at him. “Hey! No mocking of my epic struggle against darkness! I demand you explain yourself…”

 

Jameson began to massage his forehead. He was really starting to wonder what this job was going to do to his health even if he did manage to avoid being eaten by something out of an H.R. Giger picture. “Look, you strange Halloween costume wearing girl, I really don’t care what you think—”

 

It was at that moment Jameson heard the sound of something hurtling through the air at great speed. He took a step to the right. And then two more, just to stay on the safe side.

 

Junichiro landed uneasily next to him, about three steps off.

 

Jameson glanced at him, then at Karen. “Pardon me, is this your pet?”

 

“Son of Satan!” yelled Karen. “You were supposed to get him with a flying tackle!”

 

“I tried!” shouted back Junichiro. “He sorta moved on me!”

 

“Oh, I’m tired of these constant excuses…” Karen muttered.

 

“Son of Satan?” stated Jameson flatly, eyes watching Karen with a combination of levity and despair.

 

“That’s right!” chirped Karen. “He’s Son of Satan, and I’m Hellcat!”

 

“Of course you are,” said Jameson with a pitying nod.

 

“Hey, we’re an up and coming superheroic duo!” She stated proudly.

 

“I’ve no doubt.” Jameson replied.

 

Karen pouted. “You should take us seriously.”

 

Jameson sighed. “Look, I’m guessing you two were bitten by radioactive wombats or something along those lines…”

 

“That’s not our origin at all!” cried Karen. “You see one day, I went to this old well—”

 

“I don’t care about your origin,” muttered Jameson. “My point is just because you’ve got X-ray vision doesn’t mean you should go blithely skipping off to make the world safe for fruit pies! Leave it to the professionals.” Even when they’ve only had a week of training and don’t quite feel up to the job, he added internally.

 

“We are professionals,” said Karen. “Professional good guys.”

 

She was, Jameson thought, exactly the sort of person who got themselves and others killed. Often in a slow, painful manner. “Look, normally I’d be nicer about this, but the truth is I reached my crazy crap limit an hour ago, and all I want to do is finish my work here, get home, soak in the tub, and come up with a compelling reason not to take the toaster in with me.” He took a deep breath. “So please, just let me get done here. And just—be careful.”

 

“HA!” said Karen triumphantly. “Nice try villain! But unfortunately for you, that Jewel shard in your pocket gives the truth away!”

 

Junichiro glanced at her. “Can I grab him now?”

 

Karen nodded. “You can grab him now.”

 

Junichiro grabbed Jameson by the shirt. “All right creep, I don’t know what your game is…”

 

“Well—I like Reversi…” Jameson coughed. “Look, about the shard—I’m really just holding it. For someone else. Really.” He flashed Junichiro a grin.

 

Junichiro snorted. “A likely story.”

 

Jameson shut his eyes. “You seem very sure of yourself for a man covered in scorpions.”

 

Junichiro glanced down at his shoulders, then blinked. “Sc-scorpions…?” He let out a piercing scream and dropped Jameson, then began to beat wildly at his shirt. “Get them off! Get them off!”

 

Jameson stood up, dusted off his cloak, and glanced at Karen. “Now, as for you, you’ve begun to irritate me, so I suggest you go do a mazurka.”

 

Karen stared at him, puzzled. “What’s a mazurka?”

 

“A sort of jig,” replied Jameson.

 

“They’re crawlin’ up my back!” screamed Junichiro. “Oh my God! They’re crawlin’ up my back!”

 

Karen coughed. “What’s a jig?”

 

Jameson began to squint in a manner that suggested a great deal of annoyance. “A variety of dance known for its energetic motions, and the fact that it can be danced solo.”

 

“Oh!” said Karen.

 

“They’re wrigglin’! They’re wrigglin’! Oh-oh-no-did I just feel a STING? Please no!”

 

Karen raised her bow. “I don’t think I’ll do it.”

 

Jameson’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap…”

 

Karen loosed her arrow.

 

Jameson shut his eyes, and raised his hand in panic.

 

The arrow dissolved in midair with an audible pop.

 

Jameson opened his eyes, and glanced up. He looked around for a moment, and then gave a relieved laugh. “Great. All my internal organs remain internal.”

 

Karen gulped.

 

“There’s one crawlin’ up my neck! There’s one crawlin’ up my neck!” squealed Junichiro.

 

Karen grabbed him, angrily. “Junichiro! I need your help!”

 

Junichiro screamed. “Don’t get ’em angry, Karen! They might sting!” He began to twitch. “Oh, NO, PLEASE, NOT NOW!”

 

Karen frowned. “There are NO scorpions on you!”

 

“Can’t you see them? Big hairy ones—with claws—an’ stingers, drippin’ with venom…”

 

“No scorpions!” shouted Karen.

 

Junichiro calmed a moment, then glanced himself over, surprised. “Umm, Karen?”

 

Karen glanced at him, concerned. “Yes?”

 

“Why’d I think I was covered in scorpions? Hell, why’d that frighten me anyway?”

 

“He did some evil mind thing on you,” said Karen, glaring at Jameson.

 

Junichiro looked at him and snarled. “Nobody plays with my mind.”

 

“Is that an issue of principles, or do they just have problems finding it?” asked Jameson.

 

Junichiro drew his sword, and rushed at him. “That’s it! You’re dead, freak!”

 

I’ve got to stop insulting these people, thought Jameson. They’re all so…touchy…

 

Junichiro slashed at Jameson with a mighty blow that would have cleft him in twain, had it actually hit.

 

Jameson stared at the bare patch of ground the Tetsaiga was presently lodged in, then glanced at Junichiro. “That was close.”

 

Junichiro jerked his sword free, and took another swing.

 

“I’m sorry about the scorpions, all right?” stated Jameson. “Does that make you happy?”

 

Junichiro grumbled to himself. It wasn’t that his opponent was especially fast—in fact he didn’t seem to even dodge his blows. He just had a way of being somewhere other than where you aimed…

 

Junichiro took another swing, screamed to himself, and then followed with a heavy swipe down that should have by all rights left Jameson with a very large gap in his skull. “Will you just get hit?” screamed Junichiro in frustration.

 

Jameson stepped slightly to the side. “Sorry, but while I’ve no doubt it’s a fascinating experience to be skewered by a gigantic blade, I’m going to have to pass on it. My deepest regrets.”

 

Junichiro was about to try for another swing, when the answer came to him. Don’t aim… Just attack… He charged forward, and managed a wild stab.

 

Jameson just barely managed to grab the sword as it plunged towards his skull. “Look…” he muttered, as Junichiro pressed Tetsaiga towards his head, “I thought I made myself clear—NOT getting skewered by the sword…” Slowly a reddish glow spread over the blade as Jameson tried to push it back through an act of Will.

 

He succeeded. Barely.

 

“I’m not letting you beat me!” screamed Junichiro.

 

“We can call it a draw!” cried back Jameson. “I find that solution very admirable!” Despite his efforts, the sword was creeping forward, towards his rather vulnerable skull.

 

It was at that moment that something neither of them was expecting happened.

 

“SIT!” cried Karen.

 

Junichiro fell forwards with enough force to unbalance Jameson, who fell backwards with a few feet away from the half demon. His falling also tore loose Tetsaiga. The blade soared briefly in the air, then fell to the ground, where, Jameson could not help but note, it landed only inches away from wiping out the existence of the Smith family name in all future generations.

 

“What’d ya do that for?” cried Junichiro to Karen as she rushed forward.

 

“I’m so sorry!” said Karen plaintively.

 

“Well, that’s more like it…” muttered Junichiro, as he righted himself.

 

Karen ran past him to Jameson. “We thought you were a supervillain! We really had no idea…”

 

“That,” muttered Jameson, with icy dignity, “was obvious.” He took a deep breath. “But you’re forgiven! Go buy yourself ice cream! Some place far, far away!”

 

Junichiro started. “Bu-but…” He let out a low scream. “What’s goin’ on?” He pointed at Jameson. “We were fightin’ him!”

 

Karen gave him a glare that immediately made Junichiro wish he were somewhere else, and quite possibly someone else as well. “Junichiro! Don’t you realize who he is? He’s a superhero!”

 

Junichiro blinked. “How’d ya figure that?”

 

Karen gave a cheerful laugh. “Through logic! He’s got a sacred jewel shard—but he isn’t using it! Only a good guy would do that, ’cause all bad guys are out for as much power as they can get. And ’cause no ordinary man could grab Tetsaiga, I realized we were with a fellow superhero!”

 

The look on Junichiro’s face made it clear he didn’t think much of her logic.

 

The furtive glance on Jameson’s face made it clear he didn’t either, but that he also felt no burning need to dissuade her.

 

Karen missed that glance, even as she went to grab his arm. “Like I said, I’m so sorry about that mix-up.” From her tone, a person would guess this was about a mistake involving house keys instead of a potentially deadly struggle. “We’re thrilled to meet you!” She turned to Junichiro, and gave him a pointed glance. “Aren’t we?”

 

“Yeah,” said Junichiro. “Thrilled.”

 

“So…” Karen paused, clearly puzzled. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name…” she stated cheery.

 

“That’s because I didn’t say it,” replied Jameson dourly.

 

“Oh.” Karen gave him a piteous look.

 

Jameson shoved his hands in his pockets, and glanced around awkwardly. “Dr. Strange.”

 

“Wow!” Karen beamed at him. “That is a good name!” She glanced at Junichiro. “Isn’t it, Son of Satan?”

 

Junichiro grimaced. “Well, it sure as hell beats MINE!” He leaned forward urgently. “Can we at least go back to our REAL names in private, Karen? This is gettin’ ridiculous…”

 

“Quiet, Son of Satan!” hissed Karen. “And call me Hellcat!”

 

Jameson walked ahead quietly. They seemed busy, which meant he could just take care of the shard here and leave.

 

“Hey! Whatcha doin’?” said Karen cheerfully.

 

Jameson shuddered slightly. “Just taking care of this pesky little sacred jewel shard…”

 

Karen gave another enthusiastic nod. “Oh, Son of Satan and I can help! We have a duty to collect those things…”

 

“About time you remembered that…” muttered Junichiro.

 

Jameson glanced around. Something was wrong, and he had an awful idea what it was. “That’s nice,” he said absently.

 

Karen gave a cheerful laugh. “I just want to say this is an honor.” She leaned forward so that she dominated Jameson’s field of vision. “We’re eager to learn at the metaphorical feet of an experienced superhero such as yourself.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” said Junichiro peevishly.

 

“Junichiro!” whispered Karen harshly.

 

“He covered me in SCORPIONS!”

 

“Not really,” pointed out Karen. “He just made you think you were. Which makes it your fault.”

 

“OH COME ON!” cried Junichiro.

 

Jameson was holding his palm to his forehead as if in great pain. “Umm, Hellcat—I have my first lesson for you.”

 

“Really?” said Karen.

 

Jameson nodded. “When trying to apprehend a deadly superweapon powered by evil magic, do not fight your fellow heroes so that villains can get away with said deadly superweapon.”

 

Karen mused on this. “Doesn’t seem like that will happen too often…”

 

“Oh, once is enough,” muttered Jameson, as he looked at the back of the SHIELD van, where the U-ray was only conspicuous in its absence.

 

**

 

The Doctor is in.

Doctor Strange

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The Defenders Snippet: Return of the Emissaries of Evil

I’m a big fan of the “after credits” scenes in movies. As a result of that I spend a lot of time editing and trying to create awesome cliffhangers in writing. This scene is actually the end of the third chapter of “The Defenders” story based on Jameson Smith and his friends. Take a read and drop me some feedback below!

 

The first appearance of the #EmissariesOfEvil on the blog can be found here

The Emissaries of Evil

****

 

The Emissaries of Evil made their way slowly to Elihas Starr’s stateroom.

“Well guys,” said Jim, “I’m really glad you got me my spare power cell…”

“Shut up,” said Ray.

 

Egghead had to pay their bail (the whole affair would almost certainly never reach trial due to a lack of witnesses—at least witnesses who’d be willing to come forward). That would put their boss in a bad mood, and when Mr. Starr was in a bad mood, he made certain *you* were in a bad mood. Ray was just having his prematurely.

 

*That Dr. Strange and his flunkies will pay for this,*  he thought. *I swear it.* “We’re here boss,” he announced as they entered Egghead’s office.

“Come in, come in,” said a calm, slightly jovial voice.

Ray stopped in his tracks. That wasn’t Mr. Starr.

For a start, the voice was too high.

Also, it was a bit too happy.
And then, his boss had never seemed that fond of red.

The figure leaning back in Egghead’s chair was clad in a voluminous red cloak, ending in a cowl that completely obscured its face. A half-finished glass of brandy was in its left hand, undoubtedly poured from the bottle Mr. Starr kept on his desk. On the desk’s ashtray, the remains of a cigar rested.

“Gentlemen,” said the mystery man, a touch amused. “Pleased to meet you.”  He popped open a box. “Cigars? They’re quite good.”

“Sure, I—” began Jim stepping forward.

Ray motioned him to stop. “Who are you? What happened to Mr. Starr?”

The man shook his head. “Questions, questions, always questions,” he muttered. “No time to appreciate the finer things.” He shut the box. “To answer your queries, I am called the Crimson Cowl. As to your employer—we were discussing matters and he couldn’t see things my way.” The Crimson Cowl spread his red-gloved hands. “You see, I happen to run my own team of super-criminals. Mine’s the *Masters* of Evil, and well, I didn’t appreciate the similarities between the names.” He took a sip of brandy. “I thought it might cause confusion. Or even lead to all sorts of unfortunate mixups. Mr. Starr didn’t quite agree with me, lost his temper, and fell to pieces.”

“Pieces?” said Jim, nervously.

“Yep—pieces. Arms, legs, internal organs—I’d never seen a man strewn about so.” He
opened a mini fridge by the desk. “His head’s right here, if you want to see it…”

“You killed him,” whispered Bruce.

The Crimson Cowl shrugged. “Well—yes.” He sighed. “We’re criminal masterminds. These things happen.” He shut the fridge. “Now, I’m willing to offer some of you employment with my agency. Personally, I think you’ll love it—Starr was using you as glorified enforcers. Stick with me, and I’ll have you doing the real supervillainy.” He leaned further back in his chair. “I’m talking earth-shattering stuff here…”

“YOU BASTARD!” screamed Bruce, charging forwards buzz saws blaring. This was a move he would regret the rest of his life, which was the five seconds it took for the sickle to reach his neck.

“Unfortunate,” murmured Crimson Cowl, taking another sip of brandy. “Dispose of the rest.”

Ray and Ken turned around immediately. In Ken’s case this was to take a blast of
energy straight to the head.
In Ray’s it was a giant boomerang to the mid-section.

Jim immediately fell to his knees. “I-I’ll work for you!” He gulped. “You could use a guy with radiation powers! I know you could!”

The Crimson Cowl rose slowly, and walked towards Jim, regarding him quietly. Reaching the cowering supervillain, he leaned forward. “Would you believe,” he stated calmly, “that I turned down one just last week?” Then with one sudden motion, he snapped Cobalt Man’s neck.

The Crimson Cowl walked back to the desk, refilled his glass, and lit himself another cigar. As he puffed contentedly, three figures stepped out of the shadows—two women, and one man. One of the women spoke. “We should not stay here. It is unwise to do so.”

The Crimson Cowl chuckled. “Honestly. Don’t you know my personal creed?” He sipped the brandy. “One should always enjoy a good glass of spirits, and a fine cigar.” He took another long puff. “Ahh. Nothing burns like a Havana…”

 

***

 

 

 

Don’t forget to leave comments below.

 

 

Update/A bit of everything

Hello my fellow insomniacs, how have you been?

Sorry I haven’t been around as much lately but due to a lot of things(Namely work and school) I’ve been a bit tied up recently. Now that I’ve got a bit of free time I can share a few things with you guys and let you know about some upcoming updates I have in the pipeline.

First of all, I’m almost finished with the first story arc in Defending now. For those who don’t know, Defending is my story that stars unlikely superhero Jameson Smith and his transformation into Dr. Strange. I’ve honestly thought of pretty much giving up on it with Benedict Cumberbatch and Marvel bringing it to the big screen but..I may not now and just keep it to help me out of writer’s block on occasion.

I also plan to start attempting to do Alabama basketball recaps and TV show recap/discussion posts. If you guys have anything in mind PLEASE let me know so we can get this thing rolling here in the future. Not sure if I’ll be doing Walking Dead, but I’m definitely interested in Better Call Saul, Arrow, The Flash, and Game of Thrones when it returns in April.

The next thing I want to discuss is my gal Sammus! She’s got a tour coming up soon with the homie Mega Ran and she needs your help to procure funds for her upcoming tour. There are several ways you can help her and I’ve included the an excerpt from her post below:

“***”

Merch!

Sammus Merch on sale!

I’ll be including a brand new sticker featuring Kendra Wells’ dope artwork FREE with every purchase (see my profile picture). I’ve also lowered the cost of posters to $10. To check out the shop:https://sammusmusic.bandcamp.com/merch

Some other ways you can help:
– RSVP for a show in your area (and make sure to purchase a ticket for the NYC show): http://sammusmusic.com/

– Donate via Paypal (to go towards things like the cost of gas, food, and re-upping on merch): http://bit.ly/donatetosammus

– Email the homie Mega Ran at contactATmegaranDOTcom if you’re interested in providing a $ sponsorship

– Spread the word about the tour!

THANKS SO MUCH! March will truly be life-changing! I can’t wait to make any/all supporters proud on the road and at SXSW.

****

In the Mix has been going really strong lately as well and have made it all the way to episode 25! I’ve included the 2 most recent episodes below! If you want more info follow Shoom and Reg on Twitter and like the page here on facebook!

 

***

The final piece of information I’d like to share is from my good friend Chanice. I could put it into words, but I think I’ll let you watch the video below and see for yourself.

You can support her endeavors at Change of Plans

Defending Snippet/ Return to blogging

Check out changeofplans.co a new business website that revolves around the benefits of healthy meal plans and how they can help you make successful fitness gains.

Hey all, how’ve you been?

I have finally made my return from the working world to start blogging again. I hope everyone has been well. Now, as usual if you enjoy the post please share and comment below with your thoughts and thanks for the support!

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

Dan threw down his controller in frustration, nearly spilling the bowl of nachos set between him and Harry. “Damn it, Harry, that’s the seventh time you beat me!”

Harry gave an aristocratic sniff. “Is it my fault that you can’t approach my level of vaunted skill?”

“That’s because I don’t play for eight hours a day!”

“I think someone’s being a Grousy Gertie.”

Dan blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

Harry shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Oh, forget about this!” swore Dan, turning to the pile of magazines. “Now where’s this nude code?”

Harry thought it over. “I think it’s in Video Game Maniac. Or maybe Video Game Fanatic. Or was it Video Game Zealot? No—no, I’ve got it—it was in Video Game Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder! I’m pretty sure

that’s the one.”

Dan grumbled to himself, and flipped through the last designated magazine looking for the code. He wasn’t having any luck, when he saw the ad.

‘DO YOU WANT ULTIMATE POWER?’, it asked, in bold red letters.

Dan found himself intrigued.

‘Are you a pathetic failure, a poor excuse for a human being?’

Dan felt insulted by that. But he didn’t stop reading.

‘Do the strong and powerful take advantage of you with their superior martial skill? Do the witty and clever baffle you with their verbal byplay? Do the beautiful and desirable ignore your existence?’

Oddly enough, Dan found himself thinking of Natalie, Jameson, and Sarah in short order.

‘We can help,’ promised the ad. ‘Call Ultimate Power, Inc. 666-1313-DAMNED.’

Dan glanced at Harry. “Hey, can I use your phone?”

Harry continued to play his video game. “Are you going to call a sex line?”

“No!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“Damn. Mom won’t let me use them, and I thought that might be a way around it.”

Dan glared at him, and called the number. After about eight rings, a female voice picked up the phone.

“Hello, Ultimate Power, Inc. Offering your hearts darkest desires at a very reasonable price.”

Dan smiled. “Hello, I—”

“Please hold,” said the voice.

‘I come from a land down under,’ began the hold music, ‘where women glow and men plunder. Can you hear, can you hear the thunder? You better run, you better take cover—’

The phone clicked as the flute music started. “Hello, sir? Are you still there?”

“Still there, sir?”

“Well, yes, now—”

“Good.”

-Click-

‘Who wants to play those eights and aces? Who wants a raise—who needs a stake? Who wants to take that long shot gamble—and head out to Fire Lake?’

-Click-

“How about now? Still on?”

“Yes! Now would you please—”

-Click-

‘I shouted out, “Who killed the Kennedys?” when after all—it was you and me! Let me please introduce

myself—I’m a man of wealth and taste—and I laid traps—’

This time Dan started shouting as soon as he heard the click. “Listen, what is the idea here?! I have been

patient long enough, and now—!”

“You know,” said the female voice on the other end, “we are a very busy business, sir. Our services are in constant demand by many people, often in high positions—lawyers, media moguls, politicians, celebrities, radio talk show hosts…”

“Um, sorry, miss…” said Dan, sheepishly.

“So would you like an appointment?”

“Uh, sure,” Dan replied.

“Tonight at eight then,” replied the woman. “It will be a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Right,” said Dan.

“By the way—not that this means anything—but are you the least bit squeamish about the sight of your own blood?”

***********

After reading be sure to check out the latest episode of #InTheMixW/Shoom

comments?

My insomnia is at work again so…

Here’s a little snippet of what I’ve been working on. Take a look and tell me what you think folks.

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

It was the late hours of the evening, and Jameson was lying in his bed listening to music. There was a knock on the door. Jameson glanced up. “Jameson,” came his father’s voice. “May I come in?”

“Sure, dad,” said Jameson.

Tom Smith opened the door to his son’s room. Tom looked like a mustached, middle aged version of his son—indeed, the thought that his father might be an accurate representation of himself in the future had caused Jameson to awake in a cold sweat on more than one night.

Tom glanced around the room at the various mystical accruements. “Nice décor…” he stated nervously.

Jameson nodded. “Thank you. I decided to give the Addams Family look a try…”

His father looked over at a bronze mirror. “That’s lying crooked…” He stepped forward. “Maybe I should adjust it…”

Jameson glanced up. “No, you shouldn’t. Trust me.”

Tom backed away, and looked around a bit more. Finally, he turned to his son. “So—what are you listening to?”

Jameson leaned back and shut his eyes. “Philip Glass’s Creation Symphony.”

Tom smiled. “Well good…” He turned around awkwardly, then coughed. “Your mother tells me you joined a manga club…”

“Yes,” Jameson commented. “It is ever-so delightful.”

“Well, good,” said Tom. “I’m happy to see you making friends.” He shifted slightly. “I just hope you aren’t—being taken advantage of…”

Jameson glanced up, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Tom coughed again. “Well, son, when I was your age, I joined my high school soccer team, with the idea of impressing a—female classmate of mine…”

Jameson’s eyes widened. “You played soccer?”

Tom shuddered slightly. “Well, I didn’t so much—play as I—performed odd tasks…”

Jameson blinked. “Odd… tasks…”

“You know—cleaned the uniforms—got drinks for the other players—that sort of thing…”

Jameson rubbed his forehead. “You were the water boy.”

“Not officially,” answered Tom. “The thing is Jameson, the other players didn’t like me very much… I was treated—rather poorly, and had to endure quite a bit of—teasing. Like towel snapping. And jock locks. And getting dragged around the playing field. And then there were those times they threw me out of a moving car…”

“This story does have a point, dad, right?” Jameson said uneasily. “You’re not just scarring
my psyche for no reason, right?”

Tom blinked. “What was tha—oh, the point. Right. Well, you see eventually Meiko—your
mother—told me that if I wasn’t having fun, I might as well quit, especially as Nicole wasn’t impressed at all, and was calling me ‘a sad, pathetic woman of a man’, ‘a hideous waste of protoplasm’, and ‘a shrill weakling who should be put out of his misery’. So I quit immediately—”

“Good move,” said Jameson.

“—After going to Nicole and begging her to deny the awful rumor.” Tom’s eyes glazed over. “I started to suspect said rumor was in fact the truth after she called the police.”

“Umm, right…” said Jameson, beginning to inch away.

“Fortunately, your mother paid my bail, and the charges were dropped due to insufficient evidence…” Tom shook his head. “Anyway, Jameson, I just want to say that you don’t have to do anything like that to prove anything to anybody. You’re a bright talented young man with a promising future, and your mother and I love you, very much.”

Jameson winced. “Thanks for the sentiment.”

Tom began to head out. “Well, good night, Jameson. It’s been nice talking to you like this.” He glanced back. “Any horrible, crushing secrets you wish to unburden, son?”

Jameson shut his eyes. “I’ll pass.”

Tom nodded, and left the room. “All right then. See you tomorrow, son.”

Jameson leaned back and sighed. His father meant well—as did his mother, really—but he found their constant displays of affection unnerving, and just a bit depressing. He generally felt that his parents wanted to shield their progeny from the effects of a world that had beaten them down—a desire that they had failed quite spectacularly at. Jameson shook his head. He really shouldn’t complain. He was certain there were people worse off than him.

***

 

What’d you guys think? Oh, while I have you here I want to plug some projects that have hit the internet I’m supporting that I think you guys should too.

First, my female superhero and intergalactic bounty hunter Sammus has a new video out for her single Power Ups and a new single “Crown” available for free. She ALSO has a new video for Crown about to hit the interwebz here in the near future. So check her out! Follow her on twitter @SammusMusic and cop the 2nd eP! #AnotherM

 

 

Also, my super duper music inspiration Shoom Isaacs has released a podcast with She’s Ryan over at #InTheMixwShoom follow the new twitter account for the show @inthemixshoom and subscribe to the show on Itunes! There’s a new episode coming soon so stay tuned!

 

 

My big sisters and mentors Katrina Gurl and Nike Marshall have been doing lots of work on the literary front. Katrina has continued to publish her weekly blogs over at http://www.putawedgeinit.com and Nike has continued to come strong on the literary front at http://nikewrites.wordpress.com Please check them out and support their projects like they are my own as they are constantly and consistently presenting new content!

 

 

Finally, if you’re interested in sports, college football and connecting with your fellow fans I can think of no better place to do that right now than at The Houndztooth forums. Not only do they provide the latest when it comes to Alabama Athletics but they also have a thriving message board community that is in need of some new blood! Follow @TheHoundztooth on twitter!

The Houndztooth

Also, before I forget there have been a lot of new releases from other artists I follow please go give their projects a listen and cop them! They’re putting out great music!

 

Follow: @TribeOneMusic

New Music from Tribe One!

Album: #CrisisOnIntimateEarths

 

Follow: @HeySkyblew

Skyblew’s UnModern Life

Introducing, the young ColorfulDreamer by the name of SkyBlew, whose music is proving to be unique with an uplifting, powerful, and positive message in Hip-Hop. He uses his sincere, substantive lyrics & soulful sound to breathe life into a genre saturated with lies, darkness and gimmicks. Most say, SkyBlew is a breath of fresh air! He pushes the boundaries with his music and brings a new/unique flavor to the music world. SkyBlew also dabbles in Nerdcore. He doesn’t want to put himself in a box, so he strays away from putting certain labels on his style. He simply titles it – Painting The Sky,Blew!!! The young artist, creatively incorporates video game and anime references/themes into his repertoire in a very unique way.

SkyBlew is featured on some of the most notable websites in cyberspace such as: 2DopeBoyz, DJBooth, MTV, HYPEFRESH Magazine, and countless others! He also, received MAJOR recognition from ReverbNation as a “Break Out Artist” in their “ReverbNation Artists Shine in 2013” video! Sky has shared the stage with some of the finest artists in the business, including: Kendrick Lamar, Slick Rick, Lupe Fiasco, Flobots, Slum Village, Jedi Mind Tricks, Watsky, Aer, Grieves, Yonas and the list goes on! SkyBlew is destined for great things. His exposure is growing exponentially on the regional, national, and international levels. Appointed times appear, and with the state of Hip-Hop today, we need more from SkyBlew. This ColorfulDreamer lives by the slogan, “I DON’T Rap, I Paint The Sky,Blew!!!”

New Album: #UnModern Life

Controversial Jack w/Voice!

Robin Williams died the other day. Which is tragic in a lot of ways, but in this case because he relates to one of my favorite protagonists by the name of Controversial Jack. I started writing about Jack and his escapades long ago when I was a middle schooler and a time passed evolved his character but one of the original people I based Jack on was one Robin Williams. Robin’s manic personality and gift that allowed him to showcase so much of his personality really stuck to me in every film I ever watched him in as a child. As I got older I never was quite as big of a fan of him as when I was a child, but still admired his talent and ability to touch the more poignant side of humanity. I really hope that one day I’m able to write something that has half as much of that poignant energy in it.

 

PLUG:

If you enjoy my work, you’ll definitely enjoy reading some writing from my big sis over at Nike Writes! 

Another great blog you should check out is Dani’s blog over here! I’m sure all you mom’s and what not that drop by will be curious about some of her future ventures! I’m sure she has a new blog popping up soon!

 

So, without further ado, here’s the audio and text from a little bit of Controversial Jack. Keep in mind that my audio recording and reading are still a work in progress, but any feedback on how I can improve and suggestions for new microphones will be appreciated. Thanks in advance for the feedback!

 

***

There’s a tale of the apocalypse that involves four horsemen. Stop me if you’ve heard this one. The great and terrible horsemen (or surfers, in various island cultures) charge across the face of the earth (which sometimes is flat) bringing fire and chaos (although sometimes they bring seas of blood) and generally making a large mess (which sometimes is larger). Their names are Famine, Pestilence, War, and Death. Unless Pestilence is replaced by Pollution or Plague, his younger and more ambitious brothers. Mind you, that’s only one example. There are also tales of the great Adversary, the son of Satan, That one’s rather popular. There’s also various theories of nature getting sick of matters and punishing that little bastard called Man that has poisoned its waters and lands. Then there’s popular idea that we’d just wipe each other out in a series of nuclear wars, or by listening to too much Hanson. Or in the worst case humanity simply gets some sort of disease and we fade away, not with a bang, but with a whimper. Nowhere in any popular view of the final days of mankind is there a man named Jack. Which is a shame, because it means they all got it wrong…..

 

In sunny California, beneath a bright yellow shining orb in the less tasteful spiral of the galaxy, you can find a large building with large amounts of food and a large sign marked ‘Price Club’. Sometimes people wheel barrel-sized containers of things like rice and gummy bears out. Inside, it’s kept quite clean, and is a very tidy and organized way to disperse food to people who would starve to death without it. It’s a pleasant shopping experience.

 

Today, you can spot empty peanut shells on the ground, and discarded wrappers. Toothpicks a plenty are also here and there, and the occasional empty cereal bowl. If you follow the trail, you can see how it meanders here and there, but mostly sticks to the tables set at the ends of each aisle.

 

The free sample tables.

 

“More,” the man demanded.

 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” the poor supermarket lady asked, trying to shield her free cheese samples away from the psychotic madman.

 

“This is AMERICA!” the man ranted. “It’s my God given right to have as much free cheese as I want! There are surplus warehouses right now devoted to nothing more than the storage of cheese. If that’s not a tried and true use of my tax dollars, I don’t know what is. And you say that I have had enough cheese? MY GOD IN HEAVEN, WOMAN! Nobody will have enough cheese until all those supplies are depleted! Then, maybe, we can rest well at night without tossing in our sleep from the SHEER GUILT!”

 

“B-but, this isn’t government cheese,” she whimpered in reply. “It’s supermarket cheese.”

 

“Details, details,” the man shrugged, getting casual for a moment. “Fork it over.”

 

Let’s pause a moment here and examine this person. It’s actually just an optical illusion that one of his eyes is bigger than the other. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, with that constant suspicious glare, or just the funny way his neck works after years of banging his head against walls. He’s lanky and lean, but lanky and lean in the way that lanky and lean guys who really whip ass in fighting games are lanky and lean; not that he’s probably any good in a fight, but few people really want to make sure. His hair, which was probably combed with brillo and dried under a blowlamp, sticks straight up and out on his head, a wild and untamed bush of corn straw. He’s usually smiling, but has mastered the art of differentiating between a polite smile, an amused smile, a I Know More Than You smile, and a grinning evil death smile. Overall, he resembles some twisted incarnation of Puck from a VERY off-Broadway production of “Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 

His name is Jack Lysias, also known as Controversial Jack. And he wanted his cheese.

 

***

[The following is not included in the audio.]

“Mr. Duck thinks I should get more cheese,” Jack said, holding out a small rubber duck for the supermarket lady to examine. “Don’t you, Mr. Duck?”

 

The bath toy squeaked.

 

“…that’s just a toy,” the lady said despondently.

 

Jack pulled Mr. Duck back in horror while saying. “You’re hurting his feelings! There there, Mr. Duck, she’s just ignorant and doesn’t know any better… she doesn’t know the wondrous things you have to say–”

 

With a frightened gesture of defeat, the lady shoved the whole tray of cheese blobs on little sticks forward. “Here! Take as much as you want!”

After this declaration she promptly ran to the manager’s office, scribbled ‘I Quit’ on his desk blotter and ran for the horizon.

 

“Woohoo!” Jack cheered, dumping the whole tray into his giant, economy sized Price Club burlap sack. “Another fine haul. Well! Let’s see what other free things we can get!”

 

The next table was offering free long distance service.

 

“Why bother? All the people who live away from me probably don’t exist,” Jack rationalized.

 

The table after that had Cheesy Poofs, which Jack felt complimented his preprocessed cheese blobs quite well, and performed the patented ‘Look, a three headed monkey’ routine in order to distract the merchant, and swipe as many as he could.

 

The next table offered free blood tests.

 

Jack stuck his hand inside the medical cuff and yelped when the six inch needle jammed through his arm. When the results proclaimed him to be drug free he had to argue with the examiner performing the test a bit that No, the machine was not broken and Yes, he always acted like this.

 

Mr. Duck vouched for him.

 

Given how much protest Controversial Jack’s digestive system was issuing at his consuming approximately 546 free samples in a one hour period, his next stop was going to be the bathroom. Unfortunately, he happened to spot something interesting at the next booth. But history still had one more chance, as his sister wheeled into view, driving a large motorized shopping cart that made that annoying  ‘BEEP’ sound when you put it in reverse.

 

“Jack!”  Jack’s sister, Anne Lysias called out, waving to him from behind a small mountain of shopping bags. “I think I’ve got enough food to last us until the next millennium!”

 

“That’s only a year or two away, unless there’s a massive conspiracy of calendar makers,” Jack said.

 

Let’s get one thing absolutely straight here — Anne is not like Jack. Sure, they share similar DNA because of the unfortunate coincidence of having the same mother and father, but Anne is not insane. She’s actually quite a nice girl provided you don’t make her angry, and never hears rubber ducks talking to her except once or twice but she denies the experiences quite wholeheartedly. Plus, the phrase “I am my brother’s keeper” applies to her in the same way zoo wranglers say things like “I am the Bengali tiger’s keeper.”

 

“Hey, food for a year is still impressive!” Anne noted, hopping down from the vehicle and tucking her Price Club hard hat under one arm. “Besides, don’t you even THINK about complaining. I’m the one who’s paying for all this, you jobless bum!”

 

“I do too have a job!” Jack retorted indignantly.

 

“Oh? What?” Anne asked before realizing she shouldn’t have.

 

“I am me, of course,” Jack explained. “The very process of being who and what I am is a twenty four hour a day job. You don’t get a break from a responsibility that big, no paid vacation leave, no dental plan! You’re THERE, constantly, ready to be Jack at a moment’s notice! I don’t have time to go dilly dallying around in the so-called Job Market when the vast reservoirs of energy needed to Helllllll-o, what’s this?”

 

History gave a sad sigh of regret, as Jack’s attention finally was attracted back to the desk he almost missed. He seemed to teleport from where he was to in front of the desk with that smile on his face, not through some arcane power, but simply by moving very fast.

 

“What’s the free sample at this table for?” he asked curiously.

 

“Free political campaign television advertising,” the bored looking clerk explained. “Congress mandated that to keep the playing field equal for all political parties, vouchers could be secured for paid airtime for candidates to advertise. If–“

 

“Hmmm… lot of perks on that job, right?” Jack asked.

 

“What job, sir?” questioned the clerk.

 

“President!!!” Jack said, posing dramatically with one fist on his hip and a hand cupping his chin. “Why, if I was president, I’d have free run of the Oval Office… of Martha’s Vineyards… of that secret room BEHIND the Oval Office… of the War Room… just THINK–“

 

“Let’s not think, okay?” Anne requested. “We’ve got to get home before the frozen goods melt, and we don’t have time for one of your crazy schemes!”

 

“Anne! I’m shocked!” Jack said. “Here I uphold the proudest, greatest institution in these here United States–“

 

“We could always send you BACK to the institution,” Anne commented dryly.

 

“–and you dare, nay, DARE to consider it a ‘crazy scheme’?” Jack asked. “Forsooth, sister of mine! And bite me. I’m a-signing up!”

 

Anne sighed in defeat. “Be out by the car in five minutes or I’m leaving without you, Jack,” she warned. “And I MEAN it.”

 

With that, Anne hauled herself back into the forklift like contraption, and steered her groceries on out of there, making wide right turns. Jack rubbed his palms together with feverish glee. “Okay, pal, I’m sold. Where do I sign? Do I need to pay with my soul or anything?”

 

“What is your political party?” the clerk asked, clicking a cheap Bic retractable to start filling out little checkboxes of questionable origin.

 

“Probably wild and involving a lot of kegs.” Jack said quickly.

 

“Pardon?” said the obviously confused clerk.

 

“Just mark me down as controversial,” Jack said. “I’ve always said a good politician is an honest one. Well, no. Technically I’ve always said a good politician is one thrown into the bay with lead weights tied around its feet. But you get the gist of my scope of reasoning.”

Quick update and post

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven’t been around for a bt. Your pal Palazzo has been a bit swamped with real life of late and had his schedule really consumed. I’m pretty much behind when it comes to everything and the next few days I’m going to do be all I can to catch up o bear with me.

Before I get to my post, I just want to throw in a plug for another of my good friends. Tiffany Christina Lewis is a very talented author that I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for quite some time, if you all could do me a favor and check out her work I certainly would appreciate it!

inside out Cover

I mean sure, I played a hand in her first major book release “Inside Out” as an editor. But there’s more to here than that, she has a great heart and intense focus that won’t allow her to do anything but succeed. I hope you guys check her out!

Alright, here’s an excerpt from a story I’ve been working on of late. Hope you all enjoy, please don’t forget to leave a comment, oh! And check out the plug I have at the end of the post as well! ENJOY!

**********

Jameson, smiling slightly, held up the shirt he’d just spent the last hour sewing a yin-yang symbol onto. He’d done a rather good job, actually—the yin-yang was positioned perfectly in the shirt’s center, divided into two, each half fitting together perfectly to form the whole. He’d even positioned it, so the buttons were incorporated into the design as the balancing energies. And to finish it off, he’d marked it off from the rest from the rest of the shirt by a thin line of silver thread.

Well, thought Jameson, that’s four hours killed. Now I’ve got to worry about the slow destruction of the world’s protective barriers before an insidious onslaught of demonic invaders… He sighed. I think I’ll worry about my costume for a little while longer…

He put on the shirt, then snapped on the final touch—a harmless bit of vanity that he was already slightly ashamed of—a pair of circling serpent cufflinks he’d found in India and bought on impulse. He glanced into the mirror.

Jameson chuckled slightly. He actually looked—well, somewhat impressive. Now all he needed to add was…

He winced. The Cloak.

The idea had occurred to him on the trip back. Reading the newspapers, he’d noted that in the month or so he’d been gone, a great change had come over the world—it was beset by superheroes. It seemed nearly half the articles dealt with the doing of brave men and women who wore spandex without the least sense of shame or even regret. It had seemed obvious to him that posing as a superhero would be the best way to about his business in Tokyo.

Otherwise he was afraid he might be mistaken for a pimp wearing that damn Cloak of Levitation, something his sallow complexion and limited physique would only act to confirm. Jameson was not going to be booked on an ethics charge.

Not again.

No he was sure he’d seem fairly sedate by superhero standards. Well, reasonably sure. He thought anyway. He slipped on the Cloak.

Jameson sighed. Well, he had accomplished his goal. He no longer looked like a pimp.

He looked like a pimp who had recently converted to Taoism.

Jameson turned to his dresser. Fortunately he was prepared for this eventuality. He snapped on a domino mask, then glanced back at the mirror.

Now he looked like a Taoist pimp who was attending a costume ball.

Well, there was a last chance of avoiding recognition. He slipped the pantyhose over his head.

Now he looked like a Taoist pimp who was going to commit a mugging, on his way to a costume ball.

Jameson took both of his makeshift disguises off. It appeared that this was his—best option. He sighed. Well, if any of his classmates saw him, he’d just pretend not to know them. After all, what chance was there of them automatically recognizing a ghastly pale young man wearing a distinctive outfit?

Jameson groaned. Life really wasn’t fair, when you got down to it…

He took a deep breath, and turned to the Orb of Agomotto. He’d managed to set it up on his desk as a paperweight, telling his parents he’d gotten it as a memento in India. Now, the Ancient One had told him that it would help him locate threats to this world…but hadn’t actually mentioned how to use it.

Jameson stared at it, for a moment. Maybe—maybe if he thumped it a little… but no, it looked rather delicate. He placed his hand on top of it.

A brilliant light began to shine from the center of the Eye. Strange images flooded Jameson’s mind, which then began to crystallize with startling clarity.

Jameson stood there for a moment, silent. Finally, he uttered two words, quietly.

“Oh, crap…”

****

! I really hope you guys enjoyed this piece! While I have you here, I wanted to ask you guys to do me a huge favor and check out the music of someone I feel is very awesome.

Not only is she a talented artist who crafts words over her own production, she also happens to be an extremely intelligent woman I admire quite a great bit! Please go over and check out her music over at http://www.sammusmusic.com and cop her new album in the link below. It’s available at a very reasonable price and you’d definitely be supporting someone who is worth the time! Take care everyone and hopefully I’ll shoot you another update soon!

#AnotherM

MESCTV

Life Is MESC

msherringsays

The life of a middle school language arts teacher. Not to be taken to seriously. Kapeesh?

H I P L O O T

#thelootedlife

KunoichiJen

When You Give a Ninja a Blog...