Green Arrow. I've kind of been hoping that Stephen Amell's Oliver Queen on Arrow would eventually start to lean left in his politics, much like the character has in the comics. I actually really like that about the character and it's something that helps separates him from Batman. I also really love the color green, so, this character stands out for me, although I've never really been hooked into any of the books. Until now. First off, this whole DC Rebirth thing has been great so far. But after reading Benjamin Percy's first issue on this new Green Arrow, I'm totally excited to start reading GA comics.

 

In this issue, volume 6, we're getting back to the liberal Oliver, but even more so. Because know he's referring to himself as a social justice warrior. And it didn't dawn on me until I read those words, but as soon as I did it hit me. Oliver Queen would be woke, if any superhero were to be woke. It should be Oliver, of course it would be. He's gotta be up on all the -ism's and -phobia's. And he apparently is, as Black Canary tells him. So that was one of the first things that struck me about this new run.

 

Obviously, this is really relevant right now, and people in comics paying attention to what's going on socially is good. Percy, I think, also really nails Oliver's voice. He feels authentic, as does his banter with Dinah.

 

Rather than focusing on some evil drug lords/drug runners/drug dealers, mob bosses - this is a missing persons case, of sorts. There are seventeen missing person cases that have been filed with the Seattle police department. It looks like this is going to last for several issues, which is kind of cool. I don't know, it's a plot element that I don't often see - it's usually always drugs or crime lords. This oddly feels more in fitting with Green Arrow's personality.

 

So. Rebirth, it seems, is going to start from the beginning and show us the start of Oliver and Dinah's relationship. Because apparently that was forgotten or abandoned in previous runs? I wasn't reading those. These two characters feel like they have great chemistry together, which may be a weird thing to say, because they're literally just comic book characters drawn on the page. There's no actual chemistry I can actually see, but I can feel it.

 

Oliver's privilege as a rich, white male gets called out by Dinah in his penthouse, and this is something Oliver himself is fully aware of. He's trying to use his money to help those without privilege, and actually says something pretty truthful - real change requires money. He really ain't wrong. His backstory is also hinted at, apparently he spent some time on the island gaining his skills. And Roy Harper has been his partner in the past. Hooked on drugs and disappeared. I look forward to seeing if they will bring that in at some point. I'm sure they will.

 

I really enjoyed this first issue. smj12.com/comics-issue-green-arrow-rebirth-001/

Paul Weisel:

 

"In May of 2018 I was headed west for my annual visit with Don Edmunds, but took a few side trips before showing up in Oregon. After stopping at the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame in Knoxville, IA to deliver a supply of Don Edmunds' books, I veered north to I-90 and my first visit to Mount Rushmore. An early Friday morning arrival made a stop at the speedway in Sheridan, WY an easy addition to my route. On Saturday I said a final goodbye to Rocky Mountain Raceway in Salt Lake City and chalked up both their figure 8 course and the infield course used by their 4-cylinder division. As I cruised across Nevada, a Sunday afternoon event at the Winnemucca Regional Raceway was the cherry on top of four new tracks in the western states.

Monday was spent chasing vintage sprint car tires for our low-bar Edmunds sprinter project around the Ukiah, CA area and the slow day allowed me catch my breath for a first ever visit to San Francisco. On Tuesday morning I headed south on CA-101 to cross the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco. 'Why in the world would you want to drive into San Francisco?' you ask. There's only one reason – Norm Rapp. Norm was 91 years young, a midget racer of note, a multi-time winner indoors at the Oakland Coliseum, a purveyor of race car parts for at least the past 60 plus years, and a recent inductee into the National Midget Hall of Fame. Norm has been instrumental in finding parts for several of our midget restorations, I've spoken to him numerous times on the phone, but we'd never met! Upon my arrival at 5 Cordova Street, Norm Rapp Racing's World Headquarters, Norm jumped into my van and we went for breakfast at the Bayside Cafe, where it appeared Norm was revered as their favorite patron. Great view of the bay and I was able to cruise past the Cow Palace on the way back to Norm Rapp Racing. After an afternoon of spending money with Norm (he even had a used Goodyear pavement sprint car right rear tire), I headed north, hoping to escape the San Francisco traffic mess before things really got sporty at rush hour.

Unfortunately, Norm left us on December 28, 2019 at age 92 and I will be eternally grateful I took the time to visit with him at his place of business and spend some quality time with a true icon of the sport of midget racing. When the phone rang at Norm's business, a former grocery store on Cordova Street where Norm ran his business since 1961, you never had to wonder if Norm was 'in'. If the guy on the other end of the phone answered with, 'Zoom, zoom!', you were talking to Norm.

We both sold Firestone tires, so we always had something in common and we'd talk once, maybe twice, a year – always phone time well spent. When I needed a Casale rear end for the restoration of Don Edmunds' personal Kurtis-Kraft, I called Norm. Shockingly, he said he had two! He asked if I was familiar with the term 'butted' (indoor racers in particular often shortened the rear axles of their cars – narrow holes, narrow cars) and I replied, 'Yes, it means I want to hear about rear end #2.' The second rear was built in October, 1947 and was perfect for a midget built by Kurtis in 1948. Always the kidder, Norm added, 'I hear you drove race cars back east, so I'd better shim the ring and pinion and put it together for you before we ship it. Edmunds always said, 'Race drivers have to be smart enough to operate a race car ---- and just dumb enough to climb in it.' So, I took Norm up on his gracious offer and the rear arrived in two pieces. All I had to do was to was put the axle and ring gear into the rear and tighten the side plates. Everything was shimmed to perfection. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to impress my good pal, Ronnie Dunstan, I told him I had just assembled this Casale rear (and I had) and asked if he'd stop by to check the lash and see if everything was OK. Dunstan was impressed when he worked the axle back and forth – the rear was right and tight! If he's been walking around the last few years thinking I might have some mechanical ability – good! Norm even had a laugh when I told him about it.

A few days ago I read an interview with Norm by Saroyan Humphrey for Rust Magazine and Rust Media and thought it was the perfect insight to Norm Rapp. Photos included from the article are identified and I'd like to find a few more articles and interviews from these folks.

Rust Magazine, Q&A w. Norm 'Zoom Zoom' Rapp, 91 year-old racer and businessman remembers driving, wrenching with George Bignotti, and growing up in San Francisco.

TEXT – PHOTOS SAROYAN HUMPHREY

Feature: Norm Rapp has been inactive as a midget driver since 1967, but has owned and managed his racing supply business since he started it from the basement of his house in 1953. Until recently he was still selling vintage midget and sprint car parts, including tires and wheels. Along with parts, Rapp also supplied Northern California speedways with racing fuel for decades.

Norm was born in 1927 in San Francisco and was raised across the street from what would become his current race shop. Rapp's father, Gene, was also involved in automobiles, mechanics and racing. Several years before Norm was born, Gene raced a big car – a flathead 'T' – at San Jose and San Luis Obispo. He found success, winning a main event that summer at the .625-mile San Jose Fairgrounds track, but a crash, where he was knocked unconscious for over a week, ended his career in 1923. Still, it didn't end his enthusiasm for racing and the automobile, as he continued to attend races in the Bay Area with his infant son, Norm, in tow. In 1936 the elder Rapp also opened a Nash dealership in San Francisco's Mission District, a place Norm would work as a mechanic a few years later.

After World War II, as midget racing continued to grow in popularity across the United States, Norm began driving a Drake (Harley Davidson-powered) midget in training races in 1948 at the long-gone Bayshore Stadium in South San Francisco. In ’49, Rapp competed in his first full season of professional competition, and by ’51, the driver won his first main event at a quarter-mile dirt track in Marysville, Calif. Norm continued to hone his driving skills and would eventually win 40 main events—on both dirt and pavement—during his driving career. Competing with the BCRA (Bay Cities Racing Association) mostly, Norm also raced at special events across the West Coast and Midwest, often traveling with his father.

In commemoration of his lasting racing career, Norm has been inducted into six halls of fame. From the National Midget Hall of Fame, to Balboa High School in San Francisco, where he shares the honor with George Bignotti, another San Franciscan who graduated from the same school a few years earlier. Besides being neighbors, Bignotti and Rapp became racing comrades, competing in BCRA events early in their careers. Rapp was also part of Bignotti's Indy team in 1956 and helped build the '57 Bowes Seal Fast Specials that went on to finish sixth and 22nd with drivers Johnny Boyd and Fred Agabashian.

Laid-back and still a big kid at heart, Rapp spent a few hours talking about his career and his life as a racer/businessman.

You're one of the few lifetime honorary members of the BCRA. Rapp: Yeah, there's only about six of us. It's quite an honor. There's Johnny Boyd, Fred Agabashian, Boots Archer, Johnny Soares, Sr., and also Floyd Busby. He's the present scorer. Years ago, his father was the scorer when I first started in 1947.

And you were inducted to the National Midget Hall of Fame. Rapp: Yeah, three years ago. They inducted eight of us altogether that day. It was an enjoyable situation. Bobby Unser was there. It was a great day. It was something that I'll always remember. That's my biggest highlight. I'm in there with names like A.J. Foyt, Tony Stewart and all the rest of 'em.

Is being inducted to the halls of fame the best part of getting older? Rapp: Well, yeah; I gotta say, aging is not for sissies.

You were born and grew up here in San Francisco. Rapp: Yeah, in Crocker-Amazon, right next to the Excelsior District, off of Geneva Avenue.

And your dad was a racer? Rapp: Yeah, I'd been going to the races since I was two years old. Before I was born, he was racing. In those days they called them big cars, where now you call 'em sprint cars. He just raced for a couple of years and then he got hurt really bad at San Jose Fairgrounds in 1923. So, when he recuperated from the skull fracture, my mother, who then was his girlfriend, sail, “Well, Gene, you have to make the decision, racing, or me....” So he raced once more after that and then retired from racing, but we went to the races to watch and I always begged him to go in the pits and look at the race cars after the race.

In those days racing was so much more dangerous. Rapp: In 1923 they killed six guys at the track (San Jose) in one season. There's a story about how my dad was in the hospital and there was a memorial race for a close friend of his and he came out to the track with a bandaged head and was part of the ceremony.

What other local tracks do you remember going to? Rapp: We used to go to San Francisco Motordrome, which was down on Army Street. I was a young kid, before World War II, I went to Alameda (Neptune Speedway). He took me over there a few times. In those days, you had to take a ferry boat to go across the bay. There was no Bay Bridge (laughing). And there was a mile track over there on Hesperian Boulevard (Oakland Speedway) in Hayward. It was well-known in those days, before World War II. And then during the war, somebody lit the grandstand on fire, or something, and the property became valuable.

You raced a soap-box derby car when you were a kid. What do you remember about that? Rapp: When I was 11 and 12 years old. That's what I called the start of my career. In my day we didn't have any go-karts, quarter midgets, and things like that. There just the full midget. I raced at Treasure Island (during the World Exposition) in 1940. Chevrolet built this ramp about 75 feet high and you'd tow the car up the ramp. I was fine going down the hill, but when I hit the flat, I didn't have the weight to carry me and so, I lost the heat race by a couple of inches.

Your dad also had a Nash dealership, right? Rapp: Right, from 1936 to 1946. It was between 18th and 19th on Valencia (Street), 740 Valencia. He had a shop as well as sales for the cars. In 1937, he sold 97 Nashes. That was a real good year for Nash. I had a '37 Nash. That was my first car!

Did you work in the shop? Rapp: When I was 14 or 15 years old, after the soap-box derbies. I was working for him, yeah. It was a small business and I was doing the parts work, as well as the lubrication. We had a rack there that we'd put car up on.

You joined the Army Air Corps after high school, right? Rapp: Yeah, when I graduated (in 1944) everybody was patriotic, much more than anytime in my life. So everybody enlisted in one form of service or another. I chose the Army Air Corps because I wanted to fly and the Army was a little easier to get into that the Navy. So, I went down to Market Street and signed up. It took 110 points to go to officer training and I got 125. Since I was still 17 years old, they didn't want to send me to an army specialized training program, so they sent me to Stanford (University) for two terms. After that I went to Biloxi, Miss. To Kessler Field and then to Lowry Field and Buckley Field in Denver, That's how I spent my 28 months total.

What do you remember about living in San Francisco during that time, after Pearl Harbor? Rapp: Neighborhoods were blacked out and the San Francisco Seals used to play baseball only in day games. Everybody had black curtains on their windows; everything was blacked out. We had wardens also, and every block was checked to make sure the windows were sealed. There are still bulkheads out here close to the hospital (points west toward the Pacific Ocean).

How did you get your start driving midgets? Rapp: After I got out of the Army Air Corps, a friend of my dad's got me a job at Pan American Airways (as a mechanic) and one of the mechanics there owned a Drake midget. His name was Larry Christensen and he had Lyle Johnson and some other prominent guys driving for him. He won a feature in '46 or '47. He lived nearby. We got to be good friends and I went to his shop every night, almost, and helped him work on the Drake and in the pits. (George) Bignotti's shop was about a half mile away, too.

I bought a Drake midget in '48 and I had Earl Motter, Dick Strickland, all prominent veteran drivers, drive the car. The way I did it was I let those prominent guys run the car in the program and usually they would have warm-ups and I'd go out and run the first warm-up and they'd run the second warm-up and qualify and race the car. In the middle of the program, they'd have training races and I ran those. I ran 20 training races. In '49, when I first started driving, I turned 10th fastest at Bayshore Stadium and made the main event. After that, I progressed over the years.

I was really hot for the Drake engine and it was the main event winner at different times with Jerry Piper and Bob Barkhimer. It was a Drake engine like Billy Vukovich, Sr. always ran. It accelerated really good. It could beat the Ford V8-60s and it was a cheaper car.

Where was the Bayshore Stadium? Rapp: There used to be a track right next to the Cow Palace that was built in 1934 by some gamblers from Chicago. People don't know about it anymore. The story there is that these gamblers came out here and were going to run greyhound races. So they established this track next to the Cow Palace as well as the one down in Belmont and another across the bay. They had four of them and then (the State of) California says, “We don't want dog racing” for humane reasons. So there was a quarter mile dirt track and along comes December 7th (1941), and the government took over the Cow Palace and all the surrounding area, including the race track, and put all their tanks and trucks and everything else in there. Then after the war, all the vehicles disappeared and left the track. So, in 1946 BCRA came in and ran programs there until 1950, every Friday night. It was called Bayshore Stadium and it had a covered grandstand.

And you expanded your mechanical knowledge at Pan American? Rapp: I worked at Pan American for 10 years altogether, in different shops. I first started out in the wheel and tire shop. Then I was in engine buildup for three years. We'd put the engine on a test stand before they put it in the aircraft. And then I had a chance to go to the parts department, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I spent six years there.

How did you meet George Bignotti? Rapp: George was running the BCRA circuit in 1947, and when I started going to the races with Larry Christensen, I met George. He had a shop at Geneva and Mission and he ran two midgets with Fred Agabashian and Ed Normi driving, running seven days a week (laughs). BCRA was running eight days a week back then (big grin).

Do you remember your first man event victory? Rapp: Yeah, it was at Marysville in 1950. It was a different track than the one that we see now. It was a quarter mile. I started outside front row and Jerry Hill was on the pole. It was a hard, dry track, and there were a lot of prominent drivers there like (Johnny) Boyd, (Johnny) Baldwin and Edgar Elder. Edgar had fast time in a Drake. So, I got a jump on Jerry on the start and I held the lead for 25 laps and won it. Elder had fast time and he was tangling with Boyd and Baldwin and it hit one of 'em and ended up going out through the open pit gate and he just drove right up onto his trailer. He was a great guy.

Was your dad a part of your racing? Rapp: He followed me, but didn't help me. Then after about a year, he said, “I see you're serious, and I'm going to see about buying this Kurtis Ford.” Johnny Smith had driven it to sixth place in (BCRA) point stands the year before in 1947. It was a one year-old car, a Kurtis V8-60, with a spare engine and everything else for $2,000. So he bought it and I sold the Drake. I ran the Ford for three years and I kept paying him off and I owned the car when we got done. That was #16. It was really a good way for me to get started.

You traveled to the Midwest to race in '52. You must've been feeling confident with your driving and equipment. Rapp: I hadn't been driving for very long. The story there is, I was kinda depressed because my grandmother, who used to live with us, died. She had taken care of my brother and me when we were young kids, when my mother and father were running the auto shop. It was tough times. And my girlfriend, who later became my wife (Dorothea), decided she didn't want to see me anymore. So I was kinda depressed. I thought, “Heck with it. I'd just like to go the the Midwest and race.” I went by myself, Bignotti tuned my V8-60 and it was outstanding. I didn't have a spare engine, just some extra tires and wheels. But the good thing about the Midwest was that it taught me a lot. I really had to get down to the nitty fritty and learn how to race against those guys and I was running different tracks all the time. Day race, night race......

Midget racing was a big deal at that time. Rapp: It was pretty big, but in '52 back out here, it tapered off a lot. NASCAR came in and Barkhimer was running a lot of (stock car) races at San Jose Speedway and he had a whole bunch of tracks that he was supervising...

Did you like the pavement, or dirt? Rapp: When I first started out, I liked the dirt. You got it sideways, but sometimes I got in trouble, too. But after about 1953, I started learning how to drive better on pavement and be smooth. I got to be quite accomplished. I got second to Parnell Jones at San Jose Speedway in '64, and I'd win a feature here and there. Then I had a good Offy and we really made it perform. For six nights in a row, I had fast time at three different tracks. Two at San Jose, two at Kearney Bowl in Fresno, and two at Stockton. I think I won one, got four seconds and a third. In those days we'd start 18 (in the main event), so, I was coming from last.

The car was #10 and that's why #10 is my favorite number now. It set a mark for me. I put #10 on my recently restored Offy. It was red and yellow. The current car is the same paint job, more or less. It's in my store, ready to run. It's worth 35 grand. It's a Jimmy Davies car. He only built six cars; mine and one in Chicago are the only ones that I know of. It's a historic car. It was just a bunch of parts when I got it, and I put it together gradually over five years. I put a lot of new parts into it, torsion bars and everything else.

You must've had some close calls in your driving days. Rapp: I only spent one night in the hospital. I flipped three and a half times at Sacramento (West Capital Raceway) on the half mile in 1955. I hit a rut. I woke up in the ambulance with my dad. I felt that flip for six months, in different ways. In those days, we didn't have a shoulder harness, we just ran the lap belt and it held me in. In fact, the car was upside down and Walt Faulkner was running fast time in an Offy and he had the high groove and he hit my tail right next to my head in the turn and moved the car a couple feet. It just wasn't my time to go (laughs).....a lot of guys got killed at Capital Speedway.

You weren't spooked? Rapp: No, I was ready to go again. But I remember one guy who crashed at Bayshore Stadium, he hit the light pole outside the track and he never showed up again. In that era, right after World War II, Bay Cities used to lose about two guys a season, plus injuries....Yeah, it was tough, really tough. You had to watch what you were doing.

Tell me about the leather face masks that you developed as a safety device in the 1950s. Rapp: Speedway Motors used to buy 100 at a time. I must've sold four or five hundred. When I first started out, guys used to put a bandana around their neck, but that wouldn't help with the dirt and the rocks. You'd get hit. At first I made my own and developed it from there. There was a lady who was a seamstress at Pan American Airways and she helped.

I made a lot of different models before I produced the one that you see now. For different reasons it had to be improved. I had a company on 9th Street in San Francisco that was a leather company and I had them make 'em for me. They made some dies and they'd punch out the product with the die and sew 'em together per my instructions. It was a beautiful piece. I've seen used ones sell for $150 today (laughs).

You worked for Bignotti in '56 and '57. What do you remember from that time? Rapp: Oh, it was a real exciting experience. I had been to the (Indianapolis Motor) Speedway before it 1949 as a spectator. (In 1957) I was working for the Bowes Seal Fast Specials that Bignotti and Bob Bowes were partners in. I was a mechanic, doing everything. In the first day (of qualifying) Fred (Agabashian) was fourth fastest; (Johnny) Boyd was fifth fastest. They started side by side in the second row. Agabashian might have won the '500', but the fuel tank split. In those days we didn't have bladders and the tank wore and cracked. Agabashian was a really shrewd, great driver. He never acquired the achievements that he could've.

Bignotti was a good friend. I was helping him put the cars together in San Francisco. I was getting parts from Pan American. Pan American was a sponsor, but they didn't know it (laughs). Bolts and nuts, whatever we needed for the Indy cars. Bowes got the cars from Kurtis (-Kraft) and we modified them. That was a good deal. They were beautiful cars for those days. Frank Kurtis was a great craftsman. Bignotti just worked out of his basement, just about a half mile from me.

George was the greatest wrench out of a toolbox. That's the way I put it. Nowadays they have all this tech stuff. It's altogether different. He was the chief mechanic on seven Indy winners with different drivers. Can you imagine? (A.J.) Foyt, (Al) Unser, (Tom) Sneva, (ed. note: also Graham Hill and Gordon Johncock). He made 'em all perform. Nowadays it's so costly.

After Indy, I had to make a big decision in my life: whether I should stay back there (Midwest) and race. My wife said, “We can stay back here, I can get a job anyplace. Don't worry about me.” Bignotti was going to run one of the Seal Fast cars over there at Monza in Italy on the high banks, and I could've gone over there with him. Or I could come home and continue with my part-time business. I had been making a couple hundred a week, or something like that. Not big monoey, but I decided to come home and I made the right decision. In those days there weren't many dealers like there are now.

For seven years I worked out of my basement, and about five or seven others in the neighborhood. I was walking back and forth between all the places all day long. So I decided in 1961 that I should get everything in one place. That's when I acquired the building that I'm in now at 5 Cordova. I leased it for 16 years and bought it for $40,000 (in 1977). It's 3,300 square feet.

It was orifinally a grocery store, right? Rapp: It used to be the independent grocer. The Safeway moved down to Mission Street where they are now with a big parking lot, and the independent moved from my building to the corner. And that's where they still are today with different owners. It's Cordova Market.

It was set up so I could back my truck and trailer in there after a race, with a big, wide doorway and everything else. And that's the way it is today....been there all these years. The house where I was born and raised is right across the street from my store, 329 Rolph. I live up the hill, a half mile, in Southern Hills. My wife and I bought the house there brand new. She died 32 years ago, from cancer. She was a great part of my life, as far as career goes.

Did she go to the races: Rapp: Before we had kids, she went to the races all the time. But I'll tell you, it was 1966 or 1967; I was driving for Emery Graham with a Chevy II. The kids were young and sometimes she'd stay home. So, I came home and the next morning she asks, “How'd you do last night?” And I said, “I did good in the heat race; I got up to second and in the main I got on my head. (She said) “You got on your head?” I hadn't been on my head in like 10 years. So she asked, “What happened?” I said, “Well, a guy screwed up ahead of me and I got over him and hit the fence and bent the car up.”

She wanted to know what I was going to do now and I said, “Well, a bunch of guys are working on the car right now to straighten it out so we can run tonight in Sacramento on the half mile, a 100-lapper.” So, we got a fifth in the 100-lapper (laughs). It thrilled me.

It must've been difficult to run a business and drive at the same time. Rapp: Yeah, I used to look at J.C. Agajanian. He was an owner and a promoter. It was pretty tough. My dad was helping in the shop, at the house, going to all the races and pumping fuel. My wife was doing the books. She was a really sharp bookkeeper. She could take care of anything.

It seems like the 1960s was your peak as a driver. Rapp: I kept winning races into the '60s. I retired in '67. The last main event I won was indoors in '66 in Oakland. I won about 40 main events altogether. Gary Koster and I won the most indoor (BCRA) races. We each won 12.

Did you miss driving when you retired? Rapp: Not too much, because I was still going to the track with my fuel and tire truck. I was busy. I kept going to the track until the last couple of years. I just retired a couple of years ago.

You were dedicated to your job as a supplier. Rapp: At Calistoga I got a hall of fame and it wasn't because I had great achievements there. I got third in the main there one night. I got some other fifth, sixth places, stuff like that. The big thing was I had been hauling fuel and tires there for about 45 years (laughs). We'd bring 15 barrels of fuel for a weekend. Louis (Vermeil) said to me way back in '53, “I'd like you to bring a barrel of fuel with you,” and that's how it got started. I gradually built it up. I had a 1,000 gallon tank and then a 6,000 gallon tank in South San Francisco. A friend of my dad's had an oil company there and they had all these tanks, so I bought a tank. You got a better price when you took big quantities. One year I sold nearly 22,000 gallons of fuel.

To what do you attribute your longevity? Rapp: Take care of the body by eating the right kinds of food and don't eat any junk foods. Stay healthy. When I was running a 50- or 100-lapper, I would exercise every other night before I went to bed. That gave me stamiina.

Racing has been my life. And as the saying goes, “Would you like to live your life over again?” I would. Some people wouldn''t, but I would."

 

DAY THE EARTH ENDED 1956

Welcome friend, to the monstrous World of black and white sci-fi, a time when things were plain and simple, an achromatous era, one could gaze upon a T.V. set or silver screen and see a whole spectrum of colours, an age were the chromatics were inside the minds of the producers and directors. In the hearts of the actors a rainbow of actions, communications, and acoustics, colour washed the world.

How red did we see the spilt blood of the wounded monster

How orange was the glow beneath the U.F.O.

How yellow the lava that flowed towards us

Green the shrub where the beast did hide

How blue the sky when the world was saved

Indigo was the colour of tyrannosaurus and triceratops the snake the flower and the finch.

Violet the colour of our imagination and excitement, the colour of our own introspectiveness, for we never watched a black and white movie, we took part in it.

The Noah’s Ark of sci-fi man’s tampering with weapons grade plutonium, producing all manner of weird creatures. A lingering painful death by radiation poisoning awaits a small group of characters brought together under one roof to beat all the odds. A beautiful young psychotic woman suffering from neurosis, choose to repopulate the world. You’ll discover, Amour plated monkeys you’ll see a body fall of a cliff and bounce like a real dummy, and you’ll be introduced to cabaret. Whether psychologist or psychiatrist there is much to observe and learn as schizophrenia, stigma, nervosa, depression, and posttraumatic stress disorder run amok, so it’s throttle up away we go….

“Our story begins with THE END!” A hydrogen bomb explosion greets us with a title THE DAY THE WORLD ENDED and everything scrolls as if on a large invisible cylinder.

Scripture, “The elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also, and the works that are therein shall be burned up…”

Cities are in ruins, nothing but skeletal remains and desolation. “Total destruction by nuclear weapons the world as we know it no longer exists, over all the land and sea the earth hangs in the atomic haze of death.” Through a poisonous gas cloud a man stumbles, “Man has done his best to destroy his self.” The man (Radick) collapses, his face reveals a horrible luminous radiation scar, “But there is a force more powerful than man and in his infinite wisdom he has spared a few.”

Tony and Ruby arrive in a convertible they see a house in the valley Tony points, “Down there, let’s go.” Another man appears through the gas (Rick) he kneels down to comfort Radick who mutters, “Kill me, kill me.” Rick slings him over his shoulder and carries him. A gold digger Pete and his donkey Diablo make it through the gas. Tony and Ruby arrive at the house. The homeowner Jim a stern faced man, with a Missoula complex, sits by the radio, he twiddles with the controls, and turns to his daughter saying, “Its no use Louise, no sign of life New York, London, Rome, Moscow, honey check the Geiger counter.” She lifts the counter it clicks a few times, “47 Richen.” Jim says, “Its down another 1, we might live, I told them this day would come, I begged them to get ready for it.” Louise looks through the curtains, “Dad, someone is coming.” Jim explains, “I can’t let them in.” Louise implies, “You’ve got to.” Jim reasons, “I only planned for you and me, I’ve only got provisions for us.” Tony knocks the door he has a gun. Jim reminds Louise, “It’s our lives or theirs girl.” She replies, “I’m letting them in.” and unlocks the door Tony bursts in, his gun pointing at Jim’s chest. “That wasn’t much of a welcome mister.” Jim protests, “No, you’re not welcome, put that gun down.” Ruby interrupts, “Come on Tony put it away.” Jim adds, “You better give it to me.” Tony replies. “Where I go this goes.” Jim orders, “Louise give Ruby a change of clothes, have her wash with the water in the CO Jars.” He looks at Tony, “Go to my room change your clothes and wash if you want to stay alive.” Tony mocks, “You sound like you’re used to giving orders.” They stare menacingly at each other.

Rick arrives and slumps Radick onto the sofa. Jim scans him with the Geiger counter, “We won’t have to feed this poor devil he’s done for.” Rick says, “I couldn’t just leave him there.” Jim reads the counter, “740 Richens, don’t touch him Louise.” He tells Rick, “Go to my room change you’re clothes and wash.” As he passes Louise he says, “My brother is dead he was only 30 feet from me, 22 years old he was studying for the ministry he was going to be a man of God.” Gold digger Pete and donkey Diablo arrive, Louise invites them in, Pete asks, “Mam could you make a place for me and Diablo.” Louise says, “Tie him outside, and come into the house.” Jim grunts, “Another one, huh, that makes 7 of us, none of us will make it you should have let me stop them.” Louise replies, “I couldn’t have lived with that on my conscience, and neither could you.” Ruby appears, She looks at Radick, Jim warns her, “Stand clear of him Miss, he’s lit up like an atomic phial.” Tony inquires, “Can he pass it on.” Jim replies, “I don’t know, there’s no point in taking chances.” Tony says, “Why take a chance.” He points his gun at Ridicks’ head, “I’ll just put him out of his misery.” Jim draws his gun, “No you don’t give me that gun.” Tony offers his weapon but grabs Louise around her body, and points the gun at Jim, “Once and for all Mr, no one takes my gun.” Ruby cries, “Tony look out.” Rick swings Tony round, laying a right hook on his chin sending him sprawling to he floor, he looks up, “I ain’t gonna like you Mr.” Rick says, “I can stand it, get up.” They square up to each other but move away. Jim points his gun at Tony, “If I were to use my best judgement I’d kill you right now.” Ruby interrupts, “He’ll be alright captain, he steps out of line once in a while.” Tony snarls, “Ruby shut up.” Pete enters carrying his sleeping bag, “You know Mam, Diablo could sleep in the kitchen with me, why he was watching me when I uncovered that gold vane.” Louise settles him, “Well no I’m afraid not.” Jim orders, “Come over here all of you, this is a Geiger counter, its recording 46 Richens of radioactivity in this house, and 50 are considered dangerous, 500 fatal.” Rick adds, “It depends on the individual, different people have different absorption capacity.” Jim retorts, “When I want an opinion I’ll ask for it, we may live we may not, some of us may be dieing now.” Ruby (busy with her make up) asks, “How long before we leave this rural paradise.” Jim says, “I wish you’d never found it lady.” Tony buts in, “I got big things working for me in Frisko.” Jim looks at Louise, “Tell him love.” She says, “There is no San Francisco, no radio signals from any city in the world.” Tony remarks, “Ahh your kiddin no Frisko.” Jim speaks, “The 7 of us are the beginning of a new era, a new civilisation I spent 10 years getting ready for it.” He gets a map, “I’ll show you why we’re still alive, this is my house, it’s own generating equipment and food supply, the hills surrounding are full of lead bearing ore act as a barrier against radioactivity, through these gorges and canyons blows a strong steady wind with enough velocity to keep the radioactivity contamination out of it, each of you were in this sheltered area except the man on the couch, you can see the results, I don’t think he’ll live, as long as the wind blows and the rains don’t come to soon we may live that’s if we’re not destroyed by other forces.” Tony asks, “What other forces.” Jim answers, “Never mind that now, make no mistake about it you’re not welcome here, food enough for 2, divide that among 7 of us we’ll find ourselves walking around with aching bellies, I and only I will decide when and how much we eat any argument, I settle it with this (pats his gun).” Tony says, “You’re a tough man alright, packin that gun, just don’t let go of it.” Jim reminds him, “I don’t intend to.” Rick lifts Radick, Ruby says, “Do you think he’s got it.” Jim answers, “Maybe may-be not.” Ruby moans, “Cute guy like that such a pity.” Next door Radick speaks to Rick, “I’m not gonna die I thought I was but I’m not, I’m hungry I need food, red meat, really raw I don’t know why but it’ll do me good.” Rick jokes, “I’ll leave your order with the chef.” He leaves.

Jim scans the area, Rick approaches he looks at the dial, “If that Geiger counter is accurate, I wouldn’t spend too much time out here.” Jim inquires, “You’re no stranger to this are you.” He replies, “I’m a geologist, my meat was uranium exploration.” Jim says, “The real force of the atom has never been truly calculated.” Rick implies, “I think it reached its fulfilment today.” Jim wonders, “It only affects our form of life.” Rick adds, “Do you think any other form of life could have survived that.” Jim reasons, “Do you remember the H-bomb test at Matsuo, I captained one of the ships 5 days after the blast I towed the animal ship out of target zero, the world never had a true account of that test.” Rick thinks, “What are you trying to tell me (a creature howls in the background).” Jim says, “Coyote, lots of game in here now.” Rick points out, “Contaminated game fighting for life just like us.” Jim informs him, “They started coming in a week ago it’s like the valley is Noah’s ark.”

Rick holds a pot plant Louise waters it, “It’s doing nicely your plant of the future.” Louise says, “Celebrates a birthday tomorrow, 3 weeks.” Rick replies, “3 weeks I thought we’d all be dead by now.” She tells him, “Even Radick got out of bed today and he gives me the creeps.” Rick adds, “Logically he should be dead.” Jim approaches, “There’s no such thing as logic any more, he hasn’t touched food or water for 3 weeks what does he live on, last night he left the house, didn’t get back until dawn.” Rick thinks, “He’s lives in a world all of his own.” Jim adds, “He’s a mutation Rick, a freak of this new atomic world of ours.” Radick appears, “I’m going out for a walk.” Jim warns him, “Stay in sight of the house.” He asks, “Why.” Jim says, “Because I tell you to.” Radick answers, “I’m not afraid I like it out there, (he looks at Louise) would you go with me.” Louise is nervous, “NO!” Radick walks away, Jim warns, “He’s dangerous he should be destroyed.” Rick says, “No Jim, It’s important to watch how he lives.” Jim inquires, “But why!” Rick says, “I’m not sure yet, when I am I’ll tell you.”

Sexy trumpet music plays, Ruby is shaking her stuff beside the record player, “At this part I’d do a few little dance steps, boy the contrast would kill them did you hear what I said.” Tony says, “No, turn off that crummy record.” Ruby says, “You only got eyes and ears for Louise, huh.” Tony snaps, “Shut up.” Ruby moves close, “You don’t like it when she goes out walking with Rick do ya.” He repeats, “I said shut up.” Outside Rick and Louise are talking, “I think I’m beginning to want to live again, its taken 7 weeks and you, oh! Louise.” They kiss. A high pitched sound is heard, Rick asks, “What’s the matter.” Louise says, “Didn’t you hear that.” “Hear what.” She continues, “Lets go into the house quick.”

Radick is in the woods, he has set a trap and caught a rabbit, he kills it with his knife, but another much larger creature is approaching he sees it, drops the rabbit and flees, a close up of the rabbit and the monsters claw picking it up sends shivers down our spine.

Jim and Rick stumble on some bones, and footprints, Rick thinks they are Radicks. Jim asks, “Do you think he ate that rabbit.” He checks the area, “49 Richen, do you think a man could eat that poison and live.” Rick says, “He spends his nights out here in the woods.” Jim answers, “No human could eat it and live, it defies all the laws of man and God.” Rick offers an explanation, “There maybe an entirely new set of laws, even small amounts of radiation produce change, if a man could live through complete saturation, a thousand generation of change could take place its only a theory.” Jim (with his 1000 yard stare) says, “Matsuo test.” Rick says, “There maybe more Radicks worse than him, all of us have survived more cumulative exposure than we ever dreamed possible.” Jim asks, “Are you saying we might all become like Radick, stalking the woods at night eating raw meat.” Rick says, “It’s possible.” The scream of a wild animal echoes through the wood, they look up, Jim inquires, “What can we do Rick.” Rick says, “My brother believed the Bible gave strength, and revealed a plan for everything.” Jim replies, “Well I hope I find it before I lose my mind.”

Jim reads the Bible, Louise is listening, “For I am with thee, to save thee and deliver thee saith the Lord, I will deliver thee out of the hand of the wicked, I will redeem thee out of the hand of the terrible.” Tony speaks, “I had enough of the Bible when I was a kid.” Jim tells him, “It’s easy to see it had no effect on you Tony.” Rick looks out of the window a large storm cloud is passing over, “I think you outta tell them about the rain.” The reply is, “Yes! It’s going to rain, it will fall through the clouds saturated with nuclear death, there’s no escaping it but in case the weather clears and we do escape starting tomorrow we go on half rations.” Tony shrugs, “Ha, what’s half of nothing.” Jim says, “If we’re still here when the weather clears we’ll start planting, we’ll sow seed and grain, we’re just about out of water there’s a waterfall near the house, I’ve tested it and its safe starting tomorrow we bathe there.”

The girls go to the waterfall to bathe, Ruby notes, “This place looks spooky even in the sunlight, boy what I would give to be standing back on Broadway.” They enter the water, Ruby says, “You’re good looking country style, that’s why Tony goes for you its something new to him. Louise replies, “Tony,” “Aye he can’t take his eyes of you, can’t see me anymore, don’t encourage him otherwise I’ll make a play for that guy of yours.” Louise takes heed, “I’ll remember that.” Louise seems startled, Ruby asks, “What’s the matter.” She replies, “We’re being watched.” Something stirs in the shrubs, Ruby looks. “I don’t see anything.” Louise is frightened, “There’s something moving in the bushes.” Ruby says, “It’s probably one of the men, boys will be boys.” Louise cries, “Let’s get out of here, I felt eyes staring at me I heard it too.” Ruby is uneasy now, “Hey, cut that out.” They look at the ground and see 2 large footprints, Louise calls. “Come on.” And they flee. Jim and Rick go to examine the prints. Rick lifts something and says, “Radick is not the only one eating this game.” Jim replies, “When they finish the game we’ll be next, this place is cursed Rick we’ve got to kill Radick.” Rick thinks, “He’s our only chance to find out what we’re up against we can’t kill him.” Jim hints, “The animals at Matsuo.” Rick asks, “Tell me about Matsuo.” Jim replies, “Yes tonight, you’ll think I’m crazy just like the rest of them”

Pete tends his donkey; Ruby appears “I sneaked some more sugar for Diablo.” Pete says, “Thank you Ruby (strokes the donkey) he’s scared, one of these days we’re gonna high tail it out of here.” Ruby asks, “Where will you go.” Pete answers, “We’ve got a gold strike on the other side of the hills.” Ruby suggests, “Not much use for that now Pete.” Who replies, “No use eh, all my life I’ve been hunting for gold and now that I’ve found it, it’s up there and I’m down here.” Ruby laughs, “Your crazy but don’t feel bad, I think we all are.” “Thanks, Ruby you know Diablo is just crazy about sugar.” Ruby reveals, “Cut that out you old conniver I know what you do with the sugar, when the next batch of moonshine is ready I want some.” Pete hugs Diablo.

Jim asks, “How are you feeling honey.” Louise says, “Fine where’s Rick.” Jim replies, “He’ll be back soon.” She says, “I’ll go outside and wait for him.” Tony follows her and Ruby follows Tony. Tony catches up with Louise, “I just want to talk, I haven’t said a dozen words to you since we got here, what’s so bad about me, I’m not bad looking, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink.” He pulls her body close to him and tries to kiss her. “Let me go you belong to Ruby.” Tony replies, “I belong to myself.” he kisses her, she struggles free and runs away. Ruby arrives, “I found some perfume in my bag does it smell nice.” Tony says, “It stinks.” He lifts her hand, “what are you smoking.” Ruby says, “It’s some concoction of Pete’s, he makes a brew too (laughs) don’t that kill ya.” Tony tells her to throw it away. Ruby says, “You really go for her, nothing like a country girl that plays hard to get.” She embraces Tony, “Are we ready to come home to Ruby.” She kisses and squeezes him. “Still got her on your mind haven’t you.” Tony says, “Oh, forget her there are bigger things to worry about, there’s only enough food for a month.” Ruby implies, “I wouldn’t worry about that, I’ve got an idea we’re not gonna live that long.” Tony does the maths, “4 weeks for 6 people, how long can 2 people live on that 12 weeks, get it.” Ruby agrees. Tony adds, “Ah, you and me Ruby, 3 months and it should be alright.” Ruby asks, “But how are you gonna get rid of 4 people, 5 counting Radick.” Tony conceives, “I gotta get my hands on a gun, are you with me honey.” They have a long lingering kiss.

A figure disappears over the gas covered mountain. Rick is watching, he goes back to the house, “Radick walked into that murderous vapour like it was just plain fog.” Jim says, “How much do you know about the Matsuo bomb test.” Rick says, “Rumours.” Jim adds, “It’s time I showed you something, my job was to tow the animal ship out of target zero, I got the first look at them a 1000 different species.” Rick says, “The newspapers said they had been completely destroyed.” Jim reveals, “It was lies Rick, 3 of them lived.” Rick inquires, “Lived through the H-bomb.” Jim informs him, “There was a law against taking photographs.” But he has some sketches, “They were placed in cages male and female of each species.” He shows Rick the first sketch, (wow must see) “It was a chip monk” Rick cannot believe what he sees. “That was alive.” Jim adds, “It lived for 3 days, the 3rd survivor was a monkey, its skin looked like rubber but it had the feel of metal.” (These are not Picasso’s) Rick concludes, “Amour plated natures answer to complete nuclear radiation, a million years of evolution with 1 bomb.” Rick wonders, “If we could find out why they died it might help us.” Jim is stuck, “I couldn’t figure it out except they wouldn’t touch food or water.” Jim is droll, “Sometimes I have the feeling of doom.” Rick says, “There are 2 forms of life fighting for survival in this valley, one of them can win it’s gotta be us.” Jim takes heart, “You’re right Rick, it’s surprising how much strength I’ve drawn from you, and you’ve given me a feeling of responsibility towards the future of our kind.” Rick says, “Thanks, I think I’ll turn in now.” Jim replies, “I’ve thought a lot about it, I’ll talk to the girls in the morning.” Rick ponders, “The girls.” Jim finishes, “Yes, they should bear children as soon as possible.”

Jim is sleeping his gun is beside him, Tony appears stealth-like making for the revolver, Jim stirs Tony hesitates but continues, hand stretched out to take the gun. Rick has spotted him and dives at him from behind, they crash over the couch and fall to the floor, they get back on their feet Rick’s left hook sends Tony into the cabinets, Tony strikes a right, but is met with a left and right hook from Rick, objects fly across the room, throats are squeezed Louise enters, “Stop them Dad.” But Jim says, “No, let them go Rick will teach him a lesson.” Tony throws a wondrous right hook, Rick wipes his nose he sees blood and becomes enraged, chairs pictures cabinets drawers and tables are scattered everywhere, more throat clenching, a right a left a right from Rick sends Tony to the floor. He looks up, “I’m gonna kill you.” Ruby tries to comfort him, “Are you alright honey.” Tony growls “Get out of my life.”

Jim and Louise are outside, Jim says, “Winds good, no sign of rain, I’ll speak my peace, I’m a blunt man but you do like Rick.” Jim kneels, “Honey could you love him.” She nods, “A sea captain can perform marriages, I want you to marry Rick and have children.” Louise replies, “There’ll be no wedding and no children.” Jim says, “Honey you’ve got to think of the future.” Louise informs him, “There is no future.” Jim implies, “There’s a future for you, are you listening to me.” Louise replies, “Yes dad I’ll marry Rick in a week if he’s still here, if I am.” Jim becomes emotional, “What’s the matter baby.” Louise softly says, “I’m alright.” Jim ends, “You tell Ruby, I’ll speak to Tony and Rick.”

Tony and Ruby sit at the mountain, Tony is whittling a stick, “This is gonna open that store room door for me.” Ruby is not concerned “Can you imagine us with a kid we won’t tell him his old lady was a striptease artist.” Tony inquires, “I wonder what’s wrong with Louise she’s been in her room all day.” Ruby says, “I think she’s going off her rocker, you still go for her don’t ya, she wants no part of you.” Tony says, “All I want is this key to open the storeroom door.” Ruby gets angry, “You and me you said, but it’s her you’re thinking of you rotten liar.” Tony repeats, “So I’m a liar.” Ruby informs him, “The only friend in the world you have is me, anyone who loved you was me you cheap……” Tony gets up and slaps her across the face with the back of his hand, she screams Tony says, “That’s for you lover, now leave me alone.” She runs away crying.

Rick and Jim are inspecting the gas cloud, Rick notices. “It’s lost some of its density.” Jim informs, “Not enough Rick, we won’t be able to go up there for 2 months, and supplies are low.” A scream is heard and Radick appears at the top of the mountain he falls down at the men’s feet, Jim says, “Don’t touch him.” His face is horribly deformed Rick shouts “Look at his feet.” Jim adds, “The footprints by the water.” Radick lifts his head, “Food, they won’t give me any.” Jim asks, “Are there more of you up there.” Radick growls, “Stronger than me, much stronger.” Rick inquires, “How many more.” He replies, “Not many but strong, food…” Jim notices, “Look at his head the bone structure.” Rick remembers, “Like the sketches you made at Matsuo.” Jim adds, “Look, the same mutated skin the animals had, he said there were stronger ones up there.” Rick nods, “Stage 2 this one, stage 3 stronger, stage 4 maybe invulnerable.” Jim asks, “What about stage 1.” Rick says, “Radick is stage 1.”

Rick is in Louise’s bedroom, “Your father told me you’re not feeling to well, I’m sorry.” Louise says, “I’m feeling much better now…….Rick there’s something out there, you know that don’t you.” Rick thinks, “We’re just guessing, we don’t know.” Louise says, “I do, and it tries to talk to me remember I told you at the lake, I had a tingling sensation like I was being charged with electricity, my pulse was pounding and skipping beats then pounding again.” Rick comforts her, “You were just frightened.” She adds, “It’s been coming back stronger and stronger, you don’t believe me do you.” Rick ends, “I’m beginning to believe a lot of things I never believed before.” Louise is comforted, “I’m glad you’re here with me, they smile at each other.

Pete is tending Diablo; Ruby draws near, “I’m getting outta here soon.” Ruby says, “Pete I need a drink.” Pete produces a hip flask, “You’ve come to the right place.” She takes a swig, “Ruby you’re my friend, half of that gold is yours.” Ruby says, “Thanks for the poison Pete.” She returns to the house and sits beside Tony. “You’ve been drinking Pete’s Shellac again, I can’t stand a boozer.” She hugs Tony, “We’ve had fights before but we’ve straightened them out, oh, Tony you and me belong together, poured out of the same mould.” Tony says, “I wouldn’t make a bet on that baby, I’m turning in.”

Rick is sleeping, Radick appears, Rick wakes Radick speaks, “You followed me last night.” Rick says, “You went over the ridge.” Radick adds, “If you went up there you’d die.” Rick tells him, “I know what you do up there.” Radick says, “Wonderful things happen.” Rick asks, “What kind of things.” “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.” “Tell me now.” Radick says, “I don’t like this house.” Rick inquires, “Why do you come back here to sleep.” Radick says, “My enemy he wants to kill me, I come here when I’m tired, soon all of you will be dead, you think I’m crazy don’t you.” Rick says, “I don’t know.”

Rick goes outside he notices large footprints, “It’s starting to come closer to the house.” Jim says, “We’ll stand night guard, I’d use Tony but I wouldn’t put a gun in his hand, I know his kind spawned in booze water.” Rick works the radio, Louise says, “You keep hoping don’t you.” He says, “We have to keep trying, somewhere somehow we might get something.” Ruby takes a swig of liqueur, sexy trumpet music is playing she goes over to Pete. “Hey Pete the boats rocking, put an anchor on it.” Pete pours Ruby another drink she knocks it back, (Folks this is cabaret time) she starts to gyrate with the music, lets her hair down. “When I’d come on they start shouting and whistling and after a while all you could hear was their breathing…..mmmmmmmmm…they used to scare me the way they breathed. She sways back and fourth across the floor, “What’s my Richen count, read me daddy.” She swings her body and scarf around the floor, goes over to Tony, “I was working at Follies when I met Tony, remember.” She shakes her shoulders, “About here I’d start peeling, as I get to the other wing they’d give me a blue spot, then I’d start to give them the clincher.” She runs her hand sexily up and down the wall, trumpet music gets louder. Pete claps but Ruby starts to cry, she remembers the good times she’s distraught and drops her head.

Rick takes over guard duty from Jim, he straps on his revolver. He patrols around the house its dark something is missing he calls Jim, “What’s the matter.” Rick shouts, “Diablo is gone he was untied from the tree.” Jim asks, “Was Radick in his bed when you came out.” Rick says, “No, come on lets go after him before it’s to late.” Radick is taking the donkey up the mountain, Jim and Rick follow but can’t make it, they move back down, Rick calls, “Over here quick.” The men kneel down and stare at a human skull placed on a rock. Jim says, “Radick ate him, the scavenging ghoul.” Rick says, “Maybe not.” But Jim insists, “It was him alright when we find him I’m gonna kill him.” Back at the house Pete is sleeping, the howl of a coyote wakes him he looks out the window. “Diablo is gone.” He wakes Tony, “My burro he’s gone.” Tony says, “I’ll help you find him.” Radick crouches in the bushes with Diablo a claw reaches across his neck, Radick Squeals in agony he flops down dead. All the men hear the scream they race towards Radick. Rick arrives first, “Look at his arm Jim.” Who asks, “What killed him Rick.” He says, “Three punctures like steel daggers, I’m going after it.” Jim stops him, “No we’re fighting on his ground.” Rick replies, “It has to be settled one way or another.” Jim adds, “3 steel claws, defies understanding. “ Rick says, “Steel claws Jim, the surviving monkey boat.” Tony and Pete arrive Pete says, “I knew he was gone.” He kneels down “We should have stayed on top of the mountain where we belong.” Jim reassures him, “Come on Pete come on home.” Tony asks, “Who killed Radick you.” looking at Rick. “Well he had it coming he was crazy look at his skin, what happened to it.” Rick replies, “Let’s call it atomic skin.” Tony says, “Could that happen to us.” Rick answers, “It might.”

Louise is in bed reading, she hears a high pitched ringing sound and becomes unsettled, Ruby asks, “What’s the matter kid.” Louise says, “Didn’t you hear it.” “Hear what.” Louise speculates, “I must have been dreaming.” Ruby advises her, “Go back to sleep kid.” Outside a hideous alien shadow moves across a wall.

Pete decides to go up the mountain, Jim sees him and follows Pete enters the gas cloud. Jim calls, “I’m coming after you.” Pete Replies, “Go ahead captain if that’s what you gotta do.” Jim calls, “Come back you’ll die you old fool.” Jim grabs him by the legs, but Pete beats him off with his stick knocking him unconscious, Pete continues into the gas cloud. Jim Recovers, Pete starts to chip at the gold but is overcome by the fumes and falls. Jim returns home he’s suffering from the effects of the gas. “Help me to the couch.” Rick asks, “How long were you up there.” Jim says, “Long enough, Louise is not to know, tell the others I hurt myself.” Rick comforts him, “Don’t worry maybe you’ve developed an immunity to it.” Jim says, “Save your bed side manner.”

Storm clouds are building, dark and thunderous. Tony and Ruby are together, Ruby asks, “I wanna know the truth.” Tony says, “About what.” She holds her arm out, “Look at my skin what’s the matter with it, it’s getting like Radicks.” Tony pats her arm, “Oh no it isn’t.” but she’s worried and begins to cry.

Jim is on the couch Louise comforts him, “Feeling better dad.” Jim says, “Much better honey, are you ok.” She replies, “I’m fine, I’m just going outside to see Rick” Ruby approaches Tony, “Someone took one of the knives out of the kitchen.” Tony mutters, “You don’t say I think I’ll go outside for some air.” Ruby asks, “Let me go with you.” But Tony insists, “You stay here I’ll see you later.” Ruby complains, “Oh I hate this place, I wish we’d never found it, look what’s happening to my skin. Tony is angry, “I’ve looked at it 10 times already, there’s nothing wrong with it.” Tony leaves and spots Louise, he pulls a knife from the inside of his shirt and creeps up on her, swings her around and points the knife at her face. “Scream and I’ll cut, I mean it move.” Ruby follows them up the mountain. Tony orders Louise to sit down, he sits beside her. “Nothing ever comes easy to me all my life I had to claw for things.” Louise asks, “What do you want.” Tony says, “You mean you don’t know.” Ruby gets closer. “There’s something new in my life, I haven’t had time for your kinda woman….” Louise shouts, “Don’t touch me, I can’t stand you.” Tony says, “You won’t hate me when there’s just 2 of us, get what I mean.” He tries to kiss her she struggles, “Leave me alone.” He laughs, Ruby stands behind him. “Tony let the little girl go.” Tony replies “Get out of here.” Ruby tells Louise, “Run along honey, I’ve got a few private words with Mr heal.” Louise leaves. Ruby is filled with rage, “The 2 of us you said but you meant her.” “Yeah that’s right, you’re dime store stuff you’re cheap.” Ruby fumes, “She hates your guts Tony, you’re dirt to her she’d wish herself dead first.” But Ruby’s heart melts, “Oh Tony what are we fighting about we’re like a couple of kids.” Tony is full of hate, “I want no part of you.” Ruby goes for the knife, Tony twists her arm around and the blade enters her body she falls to the ground. Tony lifts her, “Happy landings sweet heart.” He throws her of the edge of the ravine. (Note how she tumbles over the rocks like a real dummy)

Jim is on the couch, Tony enters, “Ruby wouldn’t come back with me we had a little beef.” Rick replies, “I’ve a little something to settle with you myself.” Tony says, “Tomorrow maybe, I’m tired.” Rick grabs him by the neck, Tony submits, “Ok, so you can beat me up what does that solve.” Rick says, “If you go near Louise again I’ll……..” Tony finishes, “Kill me, you huh I haven’t had a good laugh all day, I think I’ll turn in now.” He leaves Jim says, “He’ll kill you Rick, get him first take my gun.” Rick answers, “Just sneak up on him and empty your gun into him, you know me better than that.” Jim adds, “There’s a lot at stake at least carry a gun get one out of the store room.”

Louise is swimming at the waterfall. Rick sits nearby he checks his gun. Tony is with Jim at the house, Jim fiddles with the radio. Tony inquires, “Nothing Huh, reminds me of a song 10 little Indians, then they got knocked of 1 by 1, that’s the way it is with us, 4 left then 3, 2 little, no little Indians. Tony moves towards the gun he snatches for it, but Jim is too quick for him. He points the gun at him, “Try that again and I’ll kill ya.” Tony replies, “Sure captain I know when I’ve had it.” He sits down.

At the waterfall Louise hears a low pitched humming noise, something dark and sinister moves in the shrubs she calls, “Rick, Rick,” and swims for the bank. Rick asks, “What’s the matter.” She says, “It called to me don’t leave me alone take me home.” Rick says, “Any idea what it looked like.” She says, “I didn’t see it but I heard it.” Rick says, “I was only 20 feet from you I didn’t hear anything.” She screams, “Take me home just take me home.”

Jim asks, “How is she.” Rick replies, “She’s still badly shaken I gave her a sedative.” Jim inquires, “Did you find out anything.” Rick says, “She insists that it called to her.” Jim adds, “What about its appearance.” Rick informs him, “Its skin was like Radicks and it had more than 2 eyes.” Jim reminds him of the sketches of the monkeys at Matsuo. Rick asks, “Louise said that this thing is man sized, how can we fight it.” He thinks, “It lives on contaminated flesh it thrives on contaminated air, the things that kill men nourish it, to kill it we’ve got to understand it we know it has fears it was close enough to Louise to attack her but it didn’t it wouldn’t follow her into the lake, why.”

Louise is in her bedroom she hears a low humming noise and goes into the next room to investigate but soon settles back into bed, and falls asleep. Suddenly a monstrous shadow appears on the wall above her it moves eerily back and fourth, we see tentacles and antenna it moves away Louise wakes and goes outside into the woods as if been guided by some mysterious force, the hideous creature appears and pounces on her it lifts her with its claws.

Jim wakes, “Louise Louise, Rick, Rick.” Rick enters, “What’s the matter.” Jim orders “See if Louise is alright.” she’s gone. Jim says, “It’s got her, get an M-1 rifle out of the store room.” Tony comes in, “What’s all the noise.” Jim repeats, “It’s got her go with Rick maybe between the 2 of you….” Tony interrupts, “Oh No she’s Ricks remember you gave her to him here’s your chance to be the all American hero.” Jim calls Rick, “Rick if there’s no other way out use the gun on Louise.” Rick rushes outside into the woods calling for Louise. The Monster is carrying Louise through the forest she lies in its claws unconscious.

Tony looks through the curtains, “Dawn already, well Captain look’s like your ship’s falling apart.” Jim says, “You wouldn’t look for Ruby nor Rick find Louise you’re a low scum.” Tony says, “I’m a coward I only fight when I have to and on my conditions and one is that I know what I’m fighting.” Jim’s gun rests on the couch Tony snatches it and points it, “That’s better Captain when 2 men have 1 gun I like to have it.”

The monster carries Louise through the woods (its head is like a game of ker-Plunk) it lays her on the ground she regains consciousness, “Rick!” but the clawed creature covers her mouth. Rick is nearby with his rifle the creature picks Louise up and continues.

Jim is tuning the radio a voice is heard, Tony hears it, Jim says, “Its nothing.” Tony calls him, “A liar.” Jim says, “That’s why you’re so brave that’s why you’re moving in.” Tony informs him, “Moving in…..I’m taking over, the works the house Louise if she gets back, I’d make a better father for her kids they’d be tough.” He looks outside, “Looks like rain, think it’ll kill us.” Jim replies, “You’ll know soon enough.”

The monster sets Louise down beside the lake she goes into the water, “Rick! Rick!” the monster stares at her transfixed, Louise seems hypnotised by the creature. Rick lifts his rifle and shoots 3 rounds, the monster swipes the bullets away, it approaches Rick who fires a couple more rounds, the hideous beast grabs the rifle knocks Rick to the ground Louise calls, “The water, he’s afraid of the water.” The monster rolls Rick into the lake. A roaring thunderous booming is heard, dark clouds sweep across the sky, the mutant looks up it begins to rain the creature tries to cover its head with its claws it runs away. Rick shouts, “I’m going after it.”

Tony looks out of the window, “There’s your rain how long do you think we’ve got to live captain.” Jim says, “Get me a sample I’ll test it.” Tony collects some rain water Jim tests it, “It’s clear it’s just rain water.” Tony smiles, “Well what do you know.”

The mutant continues through the forest Rick follows, the creature seems to be weakening lightening strikes, the monster raises its claws but continues unsteadily, Rick watches but doesn’t shoot, the creature tries to hold unto a tree but collapses to the ground, torrential rain and lightening fill the sky the creature contorts and writhes on the ground smoke begins to emerge from it’s body, Rick grimaces, the creature dies, Louise runs up to Rick they hold each other, “ I can’t hear it anymore the noise I’m free of it, he tried to speak to me he called me by my name.” Rick says, “Come on let’s go you’re soaking wet.” Louise asks, “Rick what killed him.” Rick replies, “We’ll talk about it later.” She adds, “I feel so sorry for him strange I feel that way.” (The beast lies on the ground like an old smouldering tyre) Rick says, “I’ll let your father know we’re ok.” He points the gun into the air and fires 3 shots.

At the house Tony says, “Hear that, they’re ok.” Jim tells him, “Go outside and see.” Tony replies, “I can see them coming they’re getting closer.” He opens the window and draws his revolver. Jim calls, “What are you doing with that gun.” Tony informs him, “I’m gonna kill Rick.” Jim cries, “In God’s name why.” He says, “Don’t you know why, I want Louise, I see them now yeah, it’s gonna be a tough shot she’s hanging all over him.” Jim takes another revolver from under the cushion, “Get away from that window.” Tony says, “Shut up.” (He doesn’t see Jim has a gun) Tony points the gun out of the window, “Pretty soon now.” BANG! Jim shoots Tony, BANG! BANG! Tony twists round in total bewilderment and falls dead onto the floor. Rick and Louise enter and see the body, Jim tells Louise, “He was gonna kill Rick I had to stop him.” Louise embraces her father, Rick says, “The thing out there is dead the rain killed it.” Jim adds, “I tested the rain and found it free from contamination, I remember the animals on my ship how they wouldn’t touch food or water and I knew why, that thing was created to live on a poisoned world, the rain came and it was pure.” Louise adds, “Man created it but God destroyed it he brought the rain and fresh air.” Rick says, “If he couldn’t live, neither could the others of its kind.” Jim informs them, “There was a voice on the radio, there are others out there there’s a future for you 2 you’ve got to go and find it.” Jim collapses into Louise’s arms and dies, she cries. Rick takes Louise into his arms embracing her warmly.

A fresh young Louise with her back pack on gathers all her belongings, Rick calls, “Are you about ready Louise.” She smiles, “Coming.” and takes one last look at her fathers photograph. So as we end the show, we are treated to see the young couple with their back packs on, Rick has his arm around her, they’re heading up the mountain to repopulate the world. Big white lettering appears THE BEGINNING, wonderful refreshing thoughtful music plays, a new era a new lease of life, mankind has survived yet again, good luck Rick and Louise….(sniff)….thank you.

  

Mykhailo. Kid's name is Mykhailo. Anichka had an infant when I was last here. My God, it feels like yesterday.... seems like a good kid, and I'm obligated to keep him safe, but those Army rags on him...not sure he can be trusted yet. If he stabs us in the back anytime soon, past obligations be damned, I will kill him.....but he has a wife and kid....bah, shouldn't be thinking about this. Always gotta keep a clear head and get the job at hand done. Mykhailo leads us just outside of the village, to a cliff wall. In that cliffwall was an entrance to a mineshaft. The wood on the doorway was rotted and boarded up. It looks like it hasn't been used in decades. Maybe even centuries if possible.

 

"The fuck is this? It looks like no-one's been here since the Oregon trail was a thing."

 

"I...don't know what that is, mister."

 

"Wait, you speak English?"

 

"Da...I mean, uh, yes. It was part of my.....what's English for bazova pidhotovka?"

 

"English is a part of basic training?"

 

"I joined the military for the schooling and the money, but...not much has happened. Nothing ever does here...."

 

"Just death."

 

"Every day. It's horrible. Alot of moyi druzi have been killed by Kinetsʹ, those animals....you said you're here to help us, right? To save us from th-those demony?"

 

"That's the plan."

 

"Then you're all moyi druzi to me. Moyi druzi from when I was a child used to play around mineshafts like these. This one's been sealed for a very long time so no-one should find us here."

 

"Are they all sealed up like this? Isn't mining the only thing keeping Wymarcie's shitty excuse of an economy up?"

 

"My father was a miner until the shaft he worked at shut down. It's been a trend ever since."

 

"So the only thing keeping the lights on here is slowly dying. Man, this place is just sunshine and unicorn farts."

 

"Yes, it is a dying...uh...word for kar'yera?"

 

"Career."

 

"Yeah, a dying career. Soon all these mineshafts will be good for is a place to hide, like what we'll do."

 

"Well, better set up shop now. Let's go get the truck, Arnie."

 

"A truck? That's a...uh...."

 

"Vantazhivka."

 

"Yes, I knew that! can I go with you, mister? I've always wanted to see a vanta---I mean truck?"

 

"...not gonna see much, but alright. Haine's, Slade, get the boards out of the way."

 

Hunkering down in a derelict mineshaft....funny enough that's actually a new one...

We were poor when I was a young un

I don't remember ever going hungry

Daddy made sure we didn't do without

 

I went to school with some of these fellas

They had money and I was jealous

I didn't know then what I know now

 

Daddy'd say,' You can't judge a book

By looking at its cover

It's what's inside that really matters"

 

I left home right out of high school

Got me a big car, thought I was real cool

Cruisin' around the old neighborhood

 

Daddy asked me how I bought it

I told him on credit

Daddy just smiled, I'll never forget it

 

It took a while but now I'm grown

I've settled down with kids of my own

The more I give them, more they want

 

Daddy left us last November

I don't remember him ever looking better

All laid out in his Sunday best

 

I'm sure instead of all that attention

All he'd of wanted was a few words mentioned

'A simple man, simply laid to rest'

As they drove him away in that big Cadillac

With a tear in my eye I had to laugh

 

'cause Daddy never was the Cadillac kind

He said some things, just glitter and shine

Well just this once, I hope Daddy enjoyed the ride

'Cause Daddy never was the Cadillac kind

No, my Daddy never was the Cadillac kind

  

From n HDR color photo to a B&W

 

December 07

Brucie tells us to head for the Cathedral. He knows that whoever the fuck is there waiting for us, he just dropped a death sentence on them. Yeah, and I'm somehow the idiot. Whatever, any chance to get my hands on the guy who apparently offed Mike's family. I hate women killers. I hate child killers. This guy did both. Shit like this is bonus points to me. Anyway, Mike and I took the Roadblade to the Cathedral. Thing is the Roadblade is a one seater, so Mike decided holding onto the rollbar would have to do. I'd call him crazy, but if there's one thing I hate it's hypocrites, and now's no time to make myself my own worst enemy. Mike was pretty pushy about getter there quick. Mentioned something about a guy called Father Alister at the church. Never liked priests, but Mike's my buddy so I gotta help him out.

 

"Can we go a little slower please, Jerrick?"

 

"You wanna get there fast, don't you? What about that Alister guy?"

 

"There's no point worrying about him if my skull is all over the pavement."

 

"Yeah, but that Hurt guy will probably get impatient. Trust me, bloodthirsty killers have no patience."

 

"Trust me, Jerrick, I know."

 

"Fuck yeah. So, that Hurt fuck. What are you gonna do to him when you get your hands on him?"

 

"I've had a few....creative ideas. Some to make even you envious."

 

"Stop teasing me, Mr. Lane."

 

"Hmhmhm..."

 

"Seriously though, can;t wait to hear this bastard scream. Comes to our city, messes with my people...He's gonna be wall decoration once we're done."

 

"Hell yeah!"

 

"W-whoa there. Out of character much, Mike."

 

"I apologize. The thought of finally avenging myself and my fallen family just...excites me."

 

"No need to apologize, man. That excite you're feeling right now is all natural. I get it every time before I rip open your garden variety killers, child molesters, blah blah. It's out-fucking-standing."

 

"I can easily see why. I think tonight's gonna be a fun night for us, Jerrick."

 

"Y'see Mkie, it's shit like this that's why we're buddys, y'know that? Don't fucking EVER say otherwise"

 

"Heheh. Couldn't dream of it....hey, the Cathedral's just ahead!"

 

And so it begins....

Even from the beginning I thought it was all about those yakuza that Joel had pissed off a couple of weeks before.

 

Well... I pissed them off too as Joel's accomplice that night but the fact that Joel got us out of it really seemed to be the pisser that might have put one of them over the top.

 

We had been warned to stay away from that bar.

 

They said it was owned by the mob... the japanese mafia... the yakuza.

 

They shouldn't have told us that because it put it right on top of our list of places to hang out.

 

It wasn't like we'd planned some big hiest to screw the mobsters over.

 

It just happened.

 

I guess you could call it 'a crime of opportunity.'

 

Booze is expensive in the 'Japanland.'

 

Really expensive.

 

A double shot of tequila was running 40,000 yen at the time.

 

That's forty bucks.

 

So when the cute bartender started taking a liking to Joel she sort of told him that by giving him back all of his money in smaller bills when he'd buy us a round of tequila.

 

You'd have thought we'd hit a gold mine right there and we really started digging that vein as fast as we could.

 

It was a bad case of 'gold fever' alright.

 

'Cuervo Gold Fever.'

 

I don't know how many of those tequila shot's we'd drank.

 

No one was keeping track.

 

Or so we thought.

 

I'm sure between the two of us and some of the new friends we'd made that we knocked back about a thousand bucks worth of tequila that night.

 

Without paying a single yen for it.

 

The audacity of our actions was something akin to eatin' a steak dinner in the middle of a lions den.

 

We were too stupid to see the danger in what we'd done even while we were sober and after all that tequila... well... we didn't have any 'guard' left to let down.

 

We partied on and on without any idea that some really bad people drew a bead on us and we were just sitting ducks in their cross hairs.

 

Sitting ducks that were downing more and more of their tequila.

 

In their house.

 

Without paying for it.

 

The clock was ticking and we were about to find ourselves in a situation that you'd never want to find yourself in if you were as sober as a judge much less rocked off your ass on the fermented agave nectar.

 

They were watching as I excused myself to hit the bathroom and relieve myself of some of our ill gotten gains.

 

That was the moment when it all pretty much went disasterously wrong.

 

In my obliviated state I was oblivious to the danger I was about to find myself in.

 

Heading to the bathroom down a dimly lit hallway I was jumped in the most perfect way by a couple of guys in shiny suits.

 

They didn't have to tell me who they were.

 

They didn't have to tell me why they jumped me.

 

But they got me and they got me good.

 

With expert precision.

 

Brilliant execution...

 

and perfect teamwork.

 

One second I'm finding my merry way to the bathroom and the next second I'm pushed through a door into some kind of storage room.

 

Welcome to 'Crime Scene Number Two.'

 

You never wanna let them get you to 'Crime Scene Number Two.'

 

That's where the really bad shit happens.

 

I was bigger than both of them by a great margin and in a fair fight I probably could have taken care of myself against the two of them without getting hurt.

 

But the skill of a professional is making sure that the fight is never fair and that all the chips are stacked in his favor before his adversary even knows that the fight is on.

 

I'd been jumped by a professional.

 

The very sharp edge of the small knife pressed up against my jugular vein taught me instantly that lesson.

 

I was pushed up against a wall... the door was slammed shut to the hallway and I was about to have my throat cut while my buddy entertained our new friends and drank free tequila forty or fifty feet away.

 

I'd never had a knife held up to my throat that way.

 

I never had a knife held to my throat any way before that.

 

It wasn't something I'd given much thought to.

 

I'll tell you what...

 

it's a pretty wicked position to find yourself in.

 

There was nothin' I could do to get out of it.

 

Nothing.

 

While the guy held the edge of that knife to my throat the other guy emptied my pockets.

 

He threw all of my money down on a little table.

 

My passport too.

 

The way the edge of the blade was pushed into my skin was the thing.

 

That knife wasn't held to my throat as a warning.

 

It was held to my throat in such a way that if I even moved I'd be cutting my own jugular.

 

With all of the mental force I could muster I willed my throat to become thinner and relieve the pressure of the knife on it.

 

I even tried to keep my breathing shallow to avoid pushing my throat into that knife any more than it was already.

 

When I swallowed I can remember how the motion in my throat changed the way that the blade felt up against it.

 

I wondered how quickly my lights would go out after he sliced my jugular open.

 

Would I feel strange as he opened me up and my blood pressure dropped as all of the blood that was supposed to be going to my brain spouted out of the gash in my neck?

 

Or would it be painless and instant unconsciousness for me after he did his dirty deed?

 

There was gonna be none of that shit like in the movies where I do some sweet move and get that knife off of me...

 

if I moved it was all gonna be over.

 

It was a very powerless place to be.

 

The only thing that remained to be seen is when the guy's muscles would tense up and he'd make the move that'd be the last that I ever felt.

 

The slice that took my life.

 

I don't remember seeing my life flash before me like every one says about situations like that.

 

I just remember thinking how stupid I felt for getting myself in that position.

 

It wasn't fear that I was filled with at all...

 

it was regret.

 

I regretted that my mother'd be informed by the State Department of my murder...

 

and that she'd have to make arrangements to have my body shipped back to the United States wrapped in plastic and in a cardboard box in the cargo hold of a commercial airliner.

 

I felt sorry for her in that moment.

 

Ashamed at the stupidity that I'd let myself fall into that would bring this moment upon her.

 

The only thing I really understood was that these guys were gonna kill me unless I was granted some miracle really fast.

 

My thoughts became much more local when the second guy started playing around with the mop and the mop bucket.

 

That all kind of put things into perspective.

 

I was about to be killed and they didn't want there to be a really big mess to clean up.

 

It was another sign of their 'professionalism.'

 

That's when I got scared.

 

When one guy's got a knife to your throat and another guy's getting the mop bucket it's hard to see the glass as half full.

 

Of anything except for your own blood.

 

I was trying hard I suppose to maintain my optimism but that moment was one of the few in my life that I just couldn't find anything to be optimistic about.

 

I was about to piss my pants.

 

I really was.

 

At that moment I think it had to be the knife that was pushed into my throat holding me up against that wall... I know it wasn't my knees.

 

Everything about me was starting to accept my destiny in the moment.

 

Strange feelings flowed within' me and I felt everything fading.

 

The gig was up.

 

And this was where it'd end.

 

Over a bunch of tequila.

 

I didn't see that miracle coming...

 

but it came in the form of my drunk buddy barging through that door that led to the hallway.

 

Mother of gahd I've never been so blessed in my life as at that moment!

 

When he plowed through that door the way he did...

 

both of the guys that had thrown me into that room sort of turned towards him instinctively.

 

That pressure of the edge of the blade that I'd been focused on through the whole episode let up and I knew I had one split second of a chance to get my ass out of this.

 

I don't remember what I did to do it... if I even did anything at all...

 

but as soon as that knife was off of my throat I made my move.

 

Don't remember what that move was either but I must've made one because in all of that confusion somehow I ended up pushing open a fire exit and heading down the fire escape with all of the speed of a gazelle drunk on tequila being chased by a tiger high on cocaine.

 

Joel was behind me tellin' me what to do... not that I really heard anything more than his yelling... I didn't need very much encouragement to hightail my ass outta that scene...

 

but holy shit the night air felt good filling my lungs as we ran down the sidestreets of Osaka.

 

We ran until we couldn't run any more... which was about three blocks.

 

When we looked behind us and we weren't being chased we sort of half collapsed in a fit of laughter.

 

That's all we did was laugh.

 

Maybe we hugged or high fived or fist bumped... because that was they way we we're feelin' right there in the moment... I don't remember.

 

I looked at my buddy gasping for air there and I just shook my head laughing.

 

Not only was I the most grateful guy in the world...

 

I was proud of him.

 

That was some shit he pulled right there alright.

 

I would brag about his skills for a long time after that.

 

Dude was 'The Man.'

 

Someone'd told him that a couple of bad guys had thrown me in that backroom and he didn't waste a second thinkin' it out...

 

He got up from the table, ran down the hallway and came through that door like a fucking hero.

 

Shit... he was my hero.

 

I'd never forget that moment as long as I lived.

 

I owe the guy my life.

 

Those are the kind of guys you want on your crew.

 

I was really diggin' my buddy and I was really diggin' the moment.

 

Just when I thought things couldn't get any better he looks at me... reaches into his pocket... and he pulls out my freakin' passport!

 

'Hey... you forgot this' he said as he tossed it to me.

 

The dude had the balls and the skills in those few moments to see it there on the table and grab it.

 

I was so fucking impressed I hugged him right there, slapping his back a couple of times too just for emphasis.

 

'Dude' I said... in the way that you say it that captures everything you're feeling in that moment in one word.

 

He knew what I meant.

 

That was all I hadda say.

 

Then just because we're 'those kinds of guys' I asked him if he'd grabbed my fifty thousand yen off the table too.

 

I felt like buying him a drink all of the sudden.

 

To show the sincerity of my appreciation of him as a friend right there.

 

And that was all of the money that I had.

 

'No... I didn't see any money on the table' he said to my dissapointment.

 

'What the fuck' I said 'there was fifty thousand yen of mine next to my passport and you didn't grab it?'

 

'We gotta go back there' I said jokingly.

 

Joel gave me a disgusted look.

 

I never missed an opportunity to buy the guy a drink after that.

 

And every time I bought him a drink I never missed an opportunity to badger him about not grabbing my dough off of the table as he saved my life and my passport.

 

'I really appreciate what you did for me that night man... you really got some balls... but I would've appreciated it a lot more if you wouldda grabbed all of my cash on the way out' I'd tell him again and again.

 

Then our glasses would clink... he'd give me a dumb look as he shook his head and I'd kind of nod with a smile.

 

It was a scene that would be played back on quite a few happy occasions.

 

I paid him back a couple of times for what he did that night after that... with interest.

 

If the guy called me up right now and told me he was in a fix somewhere in Norway at this very moment I'd find a way to be on the first plane outta Chicago.

 

Even if I had to fly it myself.

                

I put my shirt on and walk out of the room. Looks like a hospital, but everything's turned off. No-one's around. Where the fuck am I? And where's Linda? Fuck I dunno if we killed Merlyn or not. Please let her be okay. I gotta get out of here, get my armor, and---

 

"Oh, finally! You've awakened! Comatose is so strange...."

 

The fuck? That voice was from behind. I look around and see...a woman. About middle-aged, black hair all tied up in that style all the librarians do, and she's...smiling at me?

 

"It quite the miracle you're alive. You lost so much blood! The street gangs in this city are animals..."

 

Street gangs? Looks like she doesn't know what actually happened. Linda must've bullshited it to...whoever the fuck this is. Good girl.

 

"How 'bout it? Walk down the street and you get stabbed for it. So, uh....where am I and how'd I get here?"

 

"Oh, well... this is my clinic, and your friend Ms. Tate dragged you in here, in ribbons mind you. Never seen anything quite like it. What a sweet girl to bring you here, though."

 

"Yeah, she is..."

 

Fuck's up with her accent? Is that French?

 

"Oh dear, pardon me! My manners, they escape me sometimes! I am Dr. Elizabeth Vincent. I was the one who treated your wounds, and I've been Ms. Tate's Doctor ever since she moved to this city! She's spoken of you a few times, Mr. Davao."

 

"Really? What does she say?"

 

"She tells me you're...odd, but she speaks highly of you. I can see why. A man of your age and you survived a brutal attack like this. You are a fine specimen..."

 

Not that old, lady....

 

"Is she here?"

 

"Oh, yes yes! She simply refused to leave no matter two many times I told her to head home. The nights she spent on that old couch in the lobby. Come along!"

 

Nights? With an S at the end? As in more than one? Holy shit, how long was I out and what the fuck was I on? Whatever, I'm alive and so's Linda. This woman, Dr. Vincent, leads me to a lobby. She said this was a clinic. This is a nice-ass lobby so I doubt a free one. I look at a couch and there's Linda, fast asleep, still beautiful. Even asleep though she looks scared. Good thing I get to keep my promise. Alright, she's been waiting for me, now she get's me.

 

"....hey....wake up, buttercup...."

 

All she needed to hear. her eyes slow open, and when she looks at me, she gasps in surprise and screams my name. She bolts out of the couch and right into me, her face buried in my gut and her arms wrapped around me...I know these. What's this called? Oh! A hug! This is a hug! I like hugs. I demand more of them.

 

"Oh god, J! I was so scared!!"

 

"What else is new?"

 

'You were out for 4 days! I thought you wouldn't wake up!!"

 

"Hey, how could I do that to you? I still have a promise to keep...wait, 4 days?"

 

"*sniff* yeah...in a coma...Dr. Vincent says it's lucky you were even breathing."

 

"How many times do I have to tell you about that promise I made?"

 

"J..."

 

"Hey...hey, look at me. I said I was gonna help you. And that's what I'm gonna do. Nothing's gonna stop me. Not even death."

 

"Oh god, look at you...."

 

"Oh, I'm fine. Y'know...actually I feel better than ever...."

 

"Told you I knew a good doctor..."

 

"Somebody talking about me? Mr. Davao, i couldn't help but notice you left these cupcakes Ms. Tate got for you for when you woke up!"

 

"You got those for me?"

 

"Uh...yeah."

 

"Huh.....sorry Doc, thought they weren't mine."

 

"I don't think you should have them. Man of your age, it's not the healthiest...but it looks like poor health isn't something you have to worry about."

 

Make another fucking quip about my age and i swear....

 

"Well, if there like a box you can put them in or something?"

 

"Of course!"

 

"Thanks, doc."

 

"J, can we go home?..."

 

"Sure. Got work to do anyway..."

  

Linda guides the ship into the sky and out of earth's atmosphere. Holy fuck, we're actually going to the moon. This would be better if we weren't being strong-armed by the government against our will. The spacedude points Linda towards the moon and initiates the hyperdrive or whatever the fuck this thing has. He says we should now be at the moon in minutes so he goes to the cargo hold to check up on things. I haven't really seen the rest of the ship and Linda has everything under control, so I decide to follow. Besides, it's a goddamn spaceship. I'll be fucked if I didn't look around.

 

WK: "What's up, Dude! Came to help me out? 'cause I'm just like, checking out our life support systems before our moonwalk. Gotta make sure it's all working, don't wanna like, not breathe or anything...."

 

"Just looking around. Not every day I get a ride on a spaceship. Pretty empty, though...."

 

WK: "This thing's like, a prototype, dude! Been in testing for like, a couple years! Once we turn this into a spaceliner there's gonna be rows of seats like right where you are!"

 

" Huh. How much of that testing is actually secret black ops government bullshit?"

 

WK: "None, dude. I don't like, work for the pigs! I'm just like you, I'm doing this 'cause they said I like, had to or they'd do some bogus stuff to me."

 

"You? What the hell could they have on a guy like you?"

 

WK: "Just like, some of the uncool things my dad did to get his and my billions. The stuff goes public, then like, the Kermann Space Program goes down and all I've worked for crashes and burns!"

 

"So now here you are ferrying us to fight moon Nazis."

 

WK: "I'm cool with it, man! I'm kinda like, a huge fan of you and the babe, really. I uh...kinda wanted to ask for your autograph or something."

 

"Only if I get free tickets when your space tourism thing kicks off. And one for the 'babe', too."

 

WK: "Totally, dude! Anything for Bloodfall!"

 

"....say, what's with that crate?"

 

WK: "T-they like, didn't tell you?..."

 

"Tell me what?"

 

WK: "They like, want that Nazi base gone, dude. Take a look."

 

"....It a bunch of fucking junk..."

 

WK: "Nah, dude, not even close. This is like, a nuclear bomb!"

 

"What?!"

 

WK: "Yeah! And this box is like, one of the crates they found at the castle with the teleporter! Totally incognito so no Nazis will like, screw with it or anything."

 

"So we find a storeroom to hide it off in away from the action, Kill Krieger, then when we fly away we light this off. Still, this is a fucking nuke? We're hauling nukes now?"

 

WK: "Don't worry about it like, going off or anything! It's activated by a code you put into ship's comm. link. Only I know it. We're cool, dude."

 

"When it goes off, though..."

 

WK: "You know like, central park in New York?"

 

"Huh. Big enough to take a moonbase out, I guess. Still though, first we're smuggling nukes out of a bad guy's home, now we're putting one in."

 

WK: "We're like, fighting moon Nazis for the government, dude? Does anything surprise you?"

 

"Eh, good point. Still, what the fuck..."

 

LT: "Hey, can you here me, Mr. Kermann? This is the intercom, right? We're pretty much there, need some help landing..."

 

WK: "Cool! You might like, wanna suit up early, dude. We won't have alot time when we land...."

There's a fight goin' down.

 

It's a fight that right now happens to be tearin' the shit out of the middle class.

 

I find myself very often on the front lines of this battle...

 

with my camera...

 

taking pictures of the people fighting on either side.

 

Controversial figures all.

 

You know it's history.

 

One day people will say... 'they won or they lost it all at this point.'

 

That's how I feel when I'm workin' my Nikon up close to the players up there.

 

I don't know why I've got that ability to just get right up there and do what I have to do.

 

But I feel entitled.

 

It's our history.

 

It belongs to us.

 

And if I'm gonna break a bunch of rules and risk gettin' my ass thrown in jail for a weekend I feel obligated to come back with some decent pictures to share with you.

 

The owners of this history.

 

I'm starting to sell photographs now.

 

Publishers and newspapers and magazines are all starting to see what I do and that's cool.

 

I've just made a deal for a six or seven page spread in a print magazine.

 

I'm starting to make some money with this whole concept.

 

And I never wanted to.

 

Because I do it for the love of 'the game.'

 

And I'm kind of afraid of what the money will do.

 

I don't want the dough really.

 

I think it's gonna hurt me in the long run.

 

It will be my ruin artistically speaking.

 

You gotta be hungry.

 

You gotta say 'fuck the rules.'

 

And you can't do that so much when a paycheck's on the line.

 

If I'm gonna take up space next to history being made you can bet that I'm gonna work my ass of to make it worthwhile for everyone.

 

I'm gonna take you there.

 

I don't 'jump the stage' just for the thrill of doing it.

 

I jump it so I can take you right there.

 

So I can take everyone right there.

 

People are starting to ask me for my 'real name' and I don't wanna give it to them.

 

I enjoy the anonyminity of what I do.

 

So that puts me at kind of a 'crossroads.'

 

I can make some dough with this skill.

 

I can do it for the dollars.

 

Or I can keep doin' it for the love of bringin' you up close.

 

I don't know.

 

I've been tempted.

 

But I don't know if I could do it.

 

I'd rather just keep doing what I do best and bringin' you shot after shot that I had to scheme and connive to get you.

 

I know how the game works now.

 

I know how to get in there.

 

There's only one thing that matters...

 

coming back with the best possible image to share with you.

 

As close as I can get.

  

I said a hip hop a hippie to the hippie

to the hip hip hop, you dont stop

a rockin to the bang bang boogy say upchuck the boogy,

to the rhythm of the boogity beat.

 

now what you hear is not a test--i'm rappin to the beat

and me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet

see i am wonder mike and i like to say hello

to the black, to the white, the red, and the brown, the purple and yellow

but first i gotta bang bang the boogie to the boogie

say up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogie

let's rock, you dont stop

rock the riddle that will make your body rock

well so far youve heard my voice but i brought two friends along

and next on the mike is my man hank

come on, hank, sing that song

 

check it out, i'm the c-a-s-an-the-o-v-a

and the rest is f-l-y

ya see i go by the code of the doctor of the mix

and these reasons i'll tell ya why

ya see i'm six foot one and i'm tons of fun

and i dress to a t

ya see i got more clothes than muhammad ali and i dress so viciously

i got bodyguards, i got two big cars

that definitely aint the wack

i got a lincoln continental and a sunroof cadillac

so after school, i take a dip in the pool

which really is on the wall

i got a color tv so i can see

the knicks play basketball

hear me talkin bout checkbooks, credit cards

more money than a sucker could ever spend

but i wouldnt give a sucker or a bum from the rucker

not a dime til i made it again

ya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today (say what)

ya say im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankin

drive off in a def oj

everybody go, hotel motel holiday inn

say if your girl starts actin up, then you take her friend

master gee, am I mellow

its on you so what you gonna do

 

well it's on n on n on on n on

the beat dont stop until the break of dawn

i said m-a-s, t-e-r, a g with a double e

i said i go by the unforgettable name

of the man they call the master gee

well, my name is known all over the world

by all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls

i'm goin down in history

as the baddest rapper there could ever be

now i'm feelin the highs and ya feelin the lows

the beat starts gettin into your toes

ya start poppin ya fingers and stompin your feet

and movin your body while youre sittin in your seat

and the damn ya start doin the freak

i said damn, right outta your seat

then ya throw your hands high in the air

ya rockin to the rhythm, shake your derriere

ya rockin to the beat without a care

with the sureshot m.c.s for the affair

now, im not as tall as the rest of the gang

but i rap to the beat just the same

i dot a little face and a pair of brown eyes

all im here to do ladies is hypnotize

singin on n n on n on n on

the beat dont stop until the break of dawn

singin on n n on n on on n on

like a hot buttered a pop da pop da pop dibbie dibbie

pop da pop pop ya dont dare stop

come alive yall gimme what ya got

i guess by now you can take a hunch

and find that i am the baby of the bunch

'but that's okay i still keep in stride

cause all i'm here to do is just wiggle your behind

singin on n n on n on n on

the beat dont stop until the break of dawn

singin on n n on n on on n on

rock rock yall throw it on the floor

im gonna freak ya here im gonna feak ya there

im gonna move you outta this atmosphere

cause im one of a kind and ill shock your mind

ill put t-t-tickets in your behind

i said 1-2-3-4, come on girls get on the floor

a-come alive, yall a-gimme what ya got

cause im guaranteed to make you rock

i said 1-2-3-4 tell me wonder mike what are you waitin for?

 

i said a hip hop the hippie to the hippie

the hip hip hop, a you dont stop

the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie

to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat

skiddlee beebop a we rock a scoobie doo

and guess what america we love you

cause ya rock and ya roll with so much soul

you could rock till you're a hundred and one years old

i dont mean to brag i dont mean to boast

but we like hot butter on our breakfast toast

rock it up baby bubbah

baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang da boogie

to the beat beat, its so unique

come on everybody and dance to the beat

 

i said a hip hop the hippie the hippie

to the hip hip hop, a you dont stop

a rock on, pretty bubba to the boogity bang, bang,

the boogie to the boogity beat.

 

i said i cant wait til the end of the week

when im rappin to the rhythm of a groovy beat

and attempt to raise your body heat

just blow your mind so that you cant speak

and do a thing but a rock and shuffle your feet

and let it change up to a dance called the freak

and when ya finally do come in to your rhythmic beat

rest a little while so ya dont get weak

i know a man named hank

he has more rhymes than a serious bank

so come on hank sing that song

to the rhythm of the boogie da bang bang da bong

 

well, im imp the dimp the ladies pimp

the women fight for my delight

but im the grandmaster with the three mcs

that shock the house for the young ladies

and when you come inside, into the front

you do the freak, spank, and do the bump

and when the sucker mcs try to prove a point

 

we're treacherous trio, we're the serious joint

a from sun to sun and from day to day

i sit down and write a brand new rhyme

because they say that miracles never cease

i've created a devastating masterpiece

i'm gonna rock the mike til you cant resist

everybody, i say it goes like this

well i was comin home late one dark afternoon

a reporter stopped me for a interview

she said she's heard stories and she's heard fables

that i'm vicious on the mike and the turntables

this young reporter i did adore

so i rocked a vicious rhyme like i never did before

she said damn fly guy im in love with you

the casanova legend must have been true

i said by the way baby what's your name

said i go by the name of lois lane

and you could be my boyfiend you surely can

just let me quit my boyfriend called superman

i said he's a fairy i do suppoose

flyin through the air in pantyhose

he may be very sexy or even cute

but he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suit

i said you need a man who's got finesse

and his whole name across his chest

he may be able to fly all through the night

but can he rock a party til the early light

he cant satisfy you with his little worm

but i can bust you out with my super sperm

i go do it, i go do it, i go do it, do it , do it

an i'm here an i'm there i'm big bang hank, im everywhere

just throw your hands up in the air

and party hardy like you just dont care

let's do it dont stop yall a tick a tock yall you dont stop

go hotel motel what you gonna do today(say what)

im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spank drive off in a def oj

everybody go hotel motel holiday inn

you say if your girl starts actin up then you take her friend

i say skip, dive, what can i say

i cant fit em all inside my oj

so i just take half and bust them out

i give the rest to master gee so he could shock the house

 

it was twelve o'clock one friday night

i was rockin to the beat and feelin all right

everybody was dancin on the floor

doin all the things they never did before

and then this fly fly girl with a sexy lean

she came into the bar, she came into the scene

as she traveled deeper inside the room

all the fellas checked out her white sasoons

she came up to the table, looked into my eyes

then she turned around and shook her behind

so i said to myself, its time for me to release

my vicious rhyme i call my masterpiece

and now people in the house this is just for you

a little rap to make you boogaloo

now the group ya hear is called phase two

and let me tell ya somethin we're a helluva crew

once a week we're on the street

just a-cuttin' the jams and making it free

for you to party ya got to have the movies

so we'll get right down and give you the groove

for you to dance you gotta get hype

so we'll get right down for you tonight

now the system's on and the girls are there

ya definitely have a rockin affair

but let me tell ya somethin there's still one fact

that to have a party ya got to have a rap

so when the party's over you're makin it home

and tryin to sleep before the break of dawn

and while ya sleepin ya start to dream

and thinkin how ya danced on the disco scene

my name appears in your mind

yeah, a name you know that was right on time

it was phase two just a doin a do

rockin ya down cause ya know we could

to the rhythm of the beat that makes ya freak

come alive girls get on your feet

to the rhythm of the beat to the beat the beat

to the double beat beat that it makes ya freak

to the rhythm of the beat that says ya go on

on n on into the break of dawn

now i got a man comin on right now

he's guaranteed to throw down

he goes by the name of wonder mike

come on wonder mike do what ya like

 

like a can of beer that's sweeter than honey

like a millionaire that has no money

like a rainy day that is not wet

like a gamblin fiend that does not bet

like dracula with out his fangs

like the boogie to the boogie without the boogie bang

like collard greens that dont taste good

like a tree that's not made out of wood

like goin up and not comin down

is just like the beat without the sound no sound

to the beat beat, ya do the freak

everybody just rock and dance to the beat

have you ever went over a friends house to eat

and the food just aint no good

i mean the macaroni's soggy the peas are mushed

and the chicken tastes like wood

so you try to play it off like you think you can

by sayin that youre full

and then your friend says momma he's just being polite

he aint finished uh uh that's bull

so your heart starts pumpin and you think of a lie

and you say that you already ate

and your friend says man there's plenty of food

so you pile some more on your plate

while the stinky foods steamin your mind s

tarts to dreamin

of the moment that it's time to leave

and then you look at your plate and your chickens slowly rottin

into something that looks like cheese

oh so you say that's it i got to leave this place

i dont care what these people think

im just sittin here makin myself nauseous

with this ugly food that stinks

so you bust out the door while its still closed

still sick from the food you ate

and then you run to the store for quick relief

from a bottle of kaopectate

and then you call your friend two weeks later

to see how he has been

and he says i understand about the food

baby bubbah but we're still friends

with a hip hop the hippie to the hippie

the hip hip a hop a you dont stop the rockin

to the bang bang boogie

say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie the beat

i say hank can ya rock

can ya rock to the rhythm that just dont stop

can ya hip me to the shoobie doo

i said come on make the make the people move

 

i go to the halls and then ring the bell

because i am the man with the clientele

and if ya ask me why i rock so well

a big bang, i got clientele

and from the time i was only six years old

i never forgot what i was told

it was the best advice that i ever had

it came from my wise dear old dad

he said sit down punk i wanna talk to you

and dont say a word until i'm through

now there's a time to laugh a time to cry

a time to live and a time to die

a time to break and a time to chill

to act civilized or act real ill

but whatever ya do in your lifetime

ya never let a mc steal your rhyme

so from sixty six til this very day

ill always remember what he had to say

so when the sucker mcs try to chump my style

i let them know that i'm versatile

i got style finesse and a little black book

that's filled with rhymes and i know you wanna look

but there's a thing that separates you from me

and that's called originality

because my rhymes are on from what you heard

i didnt even bite and not a god d--m word

and i say a little more later on tonight

so the sucker mc's can bite all night

a tick a tock yall a beat beat yall

a lets rock yall ya dont stop

ya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today (say what)

ya say im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankin

drive off in a def oj

everybody go hotel motel holiday inn

ya say if your girl starts actin up then you take her friends

a like that yall to the beat yall

beat beat yall ya dont stop

a master gee am I mellow?

its on you so whatcha gonna do

 

well like johnny carson on the late show

a like frankie croker in stereo

well like the barkay's singin holy ghost

the sounds to throw down they're played the most

 

its like my man captain sky

whose name he earned with his super sperm

we rock and we dont stop

get off yall im here to give you whatcha got

to the beat that it makes you freak

and come alive girl get on your feet

a like a perry mason without a case

like farrah fawcett without her face

 

like the barkays on the mike

like gettin right down for you tonight

like movin your body so ya dont know how

right to the rhythm and throw down

 

like comin alive to the master gee

the brother who rocks so viciously

i said the age of one my life begun

at the age of two i was doin the do

at the age of three it was you and me

rockin to the sounds of the master gee

at the age of four i was on the floor

givin all the freaks what they bargained for

at the age of five i didnt take no jive

with the master gee its all the way live

at the age of six i was a pickin up sticks

rappin to the beat my stick was fixed

at the age of seven i was rockin in heaven dontcha know i went off

i got right on down to the beat you see

gettin right on down makin all the girls

just take of their clothes to the beat the beat

to the double beat beat that makes you freak

at the age of eight i was really great

cause every night you see i had a date

at the age of nine i was right on time

cause every night i had a party rhyme

goin on n n on n on on n on

the beat dont stop until the break of dawn

a sayin on n n on n on on n on...

like a hot buttered de pop de pop de pop

a saying on n n on n on on n on

cause i'm a helluva man when i'm on the mike

i am the definate feast delight

cause i'm a helluva man when i'm on the mike

i am the definate feast delight

come to the master gee you see

the brother who rocks so viciously

....

 

Hippy Dippy in barfy pastels!

 

HAIR// Mirai Style

SKIN// Curio

EYES// Exodi

NAIL POLISH// Tres Blah

SHIRT// Emery

BELT// Veschi

PANTS// Emery

SOCKS//Maitreya

SHOES// Maitreya

POSE// DFO!

 

I've always liked this crazy Mirai Style hair. You know how that happens? You like an item, backlog it in the back of your mind and it takes a while to acquire and/or wear/feature an item? That happens a lot with me...in fact, fyi, there's a lot of items I want to feature that I haven't yet. Mostly this is because my featured/posted looks are put together purely by inspiration and creativity. I've tried doing just pure review blog posts in the past, and it was like pulling teeth. It sucked putting them together and it's just not my thing. lol.

 

That said, this beautiful, crazy, hippy hair has been backlogged in my mind for a very long time now. And while putting together this look, it sprung back to the forefront of the fashion conscious part of my brain. I must say, it works perfectly, doesn't it? The band comes in the perfect barfy pink to match the pants.

 

I really love when looks come together for me, easily, like they were meant to be. You find the right items in the perfect tones that just go. This doesn't happen to me all the time, and in fact, there are many ways I put together looks, this just being one of the ways. Easy peasy flow is really just so fun to work with though, you know? <3

 

and ps. Thank goodness Gala Phoenix is back in full force! There isn't a new face of her's I've met and not instantly LOVED. Seriously, said this time and time before but this woman can do no wrong in my book. I'm wearing Sweetheart right now, and I love that the face is Jasmine-esque but comes with my beloved blond brows- YESSS! Gotta try Pout now...totally obsessed. I could eat one potato crisp easily, but to wear one skin? Impossible. :-P

 

ON MY MIND: delicious beef jerky that's sweet & tender with the perfect chew; exercise!! and the wonderful koraorganics.com blog (fyi- this is Miranda Kerr's - yes the gorgeous woman/supermodel- blog and plenty of experts in all fields post here. So informative!); spring clothing and makeup; coconut oil...for cooking and also I want to try baking cookies with it (like a half coconut oil/half butter sort of thing); doing things that bring me the most happiness in life.

Richard Russell’s Full Transcript with Air Traffic Control

 

Richard “Beebo” Russell SkyKing Tribute Page

[INAUDIBLE FIRST TRANSMISSION from RICHARD RUSSELL] 0:05:35 Everyone standing by for departure, just hold - hold on with me for a second. 0:09:30 Man, I'm a ground service agent. I don't know what that is. 0:10:51 ... start it up, n' get it to go. Uh, a couple hours I guess. But um, yeah I wouldn't know how to land it. I wasn't really plannin' on landin' it. 0:11:15 ... [INAUDIBLE] on or is this some guy who knows all about it? 0:11:23 ... knows how to fly one of those aircraft but uh, we'll see what we can do and get you in contact with somebody. 0:11:29 Alrighty. Um, yeah I just kinda wanna do a couple maneuvers - see what it can do before I put her down, ya know? 0:15:52 - [INAUDIBLE] can uh reach out to you a little easier. - [INAUDIBLE] a little bit. 0:15:57 I'm sorry. Say that again? 0:15:58 Sorry. I, um, my mic came - came up. I threw up a little bit. 0:16:03 Uh. Ya know. I, uh. Hold o- ah shoot! [CAUTION ALARM] 0:16:09 Man, I'm sorry about this. I hope this doesn't ruin your day. 0:17:06 ... just flyin' the plane around. Do you seem comfortable with that? 0:17:10 Oh hell yeah! It's a blast, man. I've played video games before so I uh, ya know, I know what I'm doin' a little bit. 0:17:17 OK. And uh, and you can see all the terrain around you. Uh, you've got no issue with visibility or anything? 0:17:24 Naw. Everything's peachy. Peachy clean. Just did a little circle around Ranier; it's beautiful. Um, I think I got some gas to go check out uh, the Olympics and uh, yeah. 0:17:38 OK and, and Rich, do you know uh, are you able to tell what altitude you're at? 0:19:06 I threw up all inside of it! It's bad. 0:20:02 ... back and join. I was thinkin' about it and then uh - probably a good thing I didn't. 0:20:58 Yeah, that's all mumbo ju— I have no idea what all that means. I wouldn't know how to, um, punch it in. I'm, I'm uh, off autopilot. 0:21:30 ... me to the jets? 0:21:31 No, I'm not takin' you to any jets. I'm actually keepin' ya away from aircraft that are tryin' to land at SeaTac. 0:21:37 Oh, okay! Yeah, yeah I don't wanna screw with that. I'm glad uh, I'm glad you're not uh, ya know, screwin' up everyone else's day... on account of me. 0:22:55 I'm uh, I'm down to 2100. I started at like 30-something. 0:23:00 [BACKGROUND "... one hundred pounds of fuel"] Rich, you said you had two thousand one hundred pounds of fuel left? 0:23:06 Yeah, uh, I don't know what the burn— burnage, burnout is like on uh, uh, on take off. But uh, yeah it burned quite a bit faster than I expected. 0:23:27 There is the uh, the runway just off your right side in about a mile. Do you see that? That's the uh, that's the uh, that's McCord uh Field. 0:23:37 Oh, man! Those guys would rough me up if I uh, tried landin' there. I think I'd, I think I might mess something up there too. I wouldn't wanna do that. 0:23:45 I'll hopefully... Oh! They've probably got anti-aircraft. 0:23:49 No, they, they don't have any of that stuff. Uh, we, we're just tryin' to find a place for you to land safely. 0:23:56 Yeah, not quite ready to bring it down just yet but holy smokes! I gotta, I gotta stop looking at the fuel 'cause it's going down quick! 0:24:05 OK, Rich, if ya could. Could you start a left hand turn and we'll take you down to the southeast please? 0:24:14 This is probably, uh, like jail time for life, huh? I... I mean I would hope it is for a guy like me? 0:24:19 Well, Rich, we're not, we're not going to worry or think about that but could you start a left hand turn please? 0:24:35 ... and he's gonna try and help you out here a little bit, okay? 0:24:55 ... and I think you might have some questions. Rich, if, uh, I've got a pilot on with us and if ya got any questions, you can ask him now. 0:25:04 Hey, uh. Well first off, you're a little - little breakin' up a bit. Um, maybe I'm too far away. What's the distance on this frequency? 0:25:40 Uh, you are a very calm, collect voice. [CAUTION TERRAIN - CAUTION TERRAIN] 0:26:30 ... hundred, apparently he's a, a grounds crewman with Horizon I guess. And uh, right now he's just flyin' around and uh, he just needs some help controlling his aircraft. 0:26:49 Naw, I mean, I don't need that much help. I've played some video games before. Uh, I would like to figure out how to get this cabin altitude, like I know where the box is. I would like to get some uh, make it, make it pressurized or something so I'm not so lightheaded. 0:27:06 Rich, what's your altitude? 0:28:00 Yeah, I don't know anything, uh, I don't know anything about the autopilot. I'm just kinda hand flyin' right now. 0:28:06 OK. Do you know how fast you're goin'? 0:28:32 ... um, minimum wage. We'll, we'll chalk it up to that. Maybe that'll uh, grease the gears a little bit with the higher ups - maybe uh, yeah. 0:30:31 I think I lost you behind the [INAUDIBLE] a little, but I'm comin' back up. 0:31:25 [INAUDIBLE] somethings in my ear. 0:31:39 Damn it, Andrew! People's lives are at stake here! 0:31:44 Now, Rich. Don't, don't say stuff like that. 0:31:47 Naw, I told you. I'm not, I don't wanna hurt no one. 0:31:50 I just want you to whisper sweet nothings into my ear. 0:32:41 ... would that be than trying to land it? Like, I know how to put the landing gear down. 0:33:15 Put your uh, your power at probably fifty percent. That'd be the two top gauges right in the center on that glass display there. And then, press, uh, well tell me uh, do your power at fifty percent or tell me what you got. 0:33:34 Yeah I got it like [INAUDIBLE] idle. 0:33:37 Well that's too slow. Bring it up to like fifty. 0:34:15 ... other side on the bottom that says HDG and it's got a little blue M on it. You can crank that around and uh... And uh, you know what? Tell ya what. Let's just do this. Um. Push... you see the HDG... HDG button right by that little thumb wheel? 0:35:37 ... know you could do that with these things! Uh, so what would, if you were to do it, how would you do it? 0:35:44 Well I'd try to figure out how to use the autopilot first. 0:35:55 Not concentrate so much on flying the airplane. 0:35:57 Hey. You think if I land this successfully, uh, Alaska will give me a job as a pilot? 0:36:03 Uh, you know, I think they would give you a job doin' anything if you could pull this off. 0:36:07 Yeah, right! 0:36:10 Naw. I'm a white guy. They... 0:37:38 Yeah [INAUDIBLE], man. Hey, FAA guy Andrew. Are you on? 0:37:41 Yeah, I'm still here, Rich. 0:38:14 ...ad but, kinda not either. 0:38:19 ...[INAUDIBLE] uh, if you wanted to land, probably the best bet is that runway just ahead and to your left. Again, that's uh McCord Field. Um, if you wanted to try that might be the best way to set up and see if you can land there. 0:38:35 Or just like the pilot suggested, another option would be over Puget Sound into the water. 0:38:41 Dang, uh. Did you talk to McCord yet? 'Cause I don't think I'd be happy with you telling me I could land like that 'cause I could mess some stuff up. [CAUTION ALARM] 0:38:51 Well, Rich. We already talked to 'em and uh, just like me, what we wanna see is you not get hurt or anybody else get hurt. So like I said, if you wanna try to land that's probably the best place to go. 0:39:05 Hey, I want the coordinates of that orca with the... you know the mama orca with the baby? I wanna go see that guy. 0:40:11 Behind you there's another aircraft. Would you be willing to talk to them? If they're on the frequency and maybe they can help you land? 0:40:32 [INAUDIBLE] back and [INAUDIBLE] water. Hey, what's that airport right there behind me? Like to my left. 0:40:40 OK, Rich. Well first of all we just need you to keep flying the aircraft so if you could just stay there and keep flying the aircraft. The airc... the uh the airport you just passed over on your left, that's the uh Tacoma Narrows Airport. 0:40:54 I mean that's also an option if you wanna try and go there but uh, like I said earlier, McCord that's a bigger runway if you wanted to try to land there 0:41:25 [INAUDIBLE] disgusting, one sec. 0:41:29. Hey, Rich. This is Captain Bill here. We're still listening. My airplane's doin' just fine. How's yours? 0:42:32 He said it would be a better option I think if he tried to land it or even land it on it on the water 0:42:38 Yeah 0:42:41 Hey, is that pilot on? 0:42:43 I wanna know, uh, what this weather's gonna be like at the Olympics. 0:42:47 Um, if you can see the Olympics, the weather's good. 0:42:49 I can see the Olympics from my window and it looks pretty good over there. 0:42:54 Alright 'cause I didn't - I didn't um. It felt like turbulence around Ranier but there was no clouds hardly. 0:43:01 Oh that's just the wind blowing over all the bumpy surfaces there. 0:43:06 Oh, copy that. 0:43:08 (inaudible) Rich, if ya could, uh, maybe start a left hand turn - start turning back around because if you get too close the the Olympics, uh, you won't be able to hear us anymore. 0:43:46 Turn back around here. Like I said, I just wanna keep talking to you and if you keep going towards the Olympic Mountains we won't be able to hear each other. 0:44:18 Turn back around so we can, uh, stay in contact with you. 0:44:21 ... for this issue to be resolved and then we can clear up the taxiways. 0:44:31 I got a lot of people that care about me, and uh... [CAUTION ALARMS] 0:44:35 It's gonna disappoint them, that, to hear that I did this, um... [CAUTION ALARMS] 0:44:42 I would like to apologize to each and every one of them. [CAUTION ALARMS] 0:44:45 um... [CAUTION ALARMS] 0:44:47 Just a broken guy... 0:44:50 Got a few screws loose, I guess. 0:44:52 Never really knew it - 'til now... 0:44:55 Um, just... ya know. 0:45:02 Going to, uh, come in here and start talking to Rich as well. 0:45:47 Is that pretty easy to come by? 0:46:11 Man! Have you been to the Olympics? These guys are gorgeous! Holy smokes. 0:46:16 Yeah I been out there. It's... it's... it's always a nice drive. 0:46:23 ... but ... 0:46:26 ... think I might have to [INAUDIBLE] here. 0:46:29 Yeah, uh, yeah, I bet you do. I haven't done much hiking over there. 0:46:34 And uh, but if ya could, if you could start a left turn and uh, turn back towards the east 0:46:40 I know you're gettin' a good view there but uh, if you go too much further in that direction I won't be able to hear you anymore. 0:46:47 Alrighty, um. Hey, pilot guy! Can this thing do a uh... a back flip you think? 0:47:39 ... gonna land it. 0:47:41 Um, like, uh... in a safe, safe kinda manner. 0:47:45 Think I'm uh, think I'm gonna try to do a barrel roll and if that goes good 0:47:49 then I'm just gonna nose down and call it a night. 0:47:55 Well, Rich, before you do that, let's think about this. 0:47:59 I got another, uh, pilot comin' up - Pilot Joel here - in just a minute or two, I hope. And, uh, we'll be able to give you some advice on what to do next. 0:49:46. We call it a bug. It's like a little (inaudible) rectangle. It's just somewhere around that compass. Do you see that? 0:50:00 Um, just kinda lightheaded, dizzy. Um, man! And ya know the sights went by so fast. Dude, I was thinkin' like gonna have this moment of serenity, ya know I'll be able to take all... in all the sights. Uh, it was a lot of pretty stuff but um, I think that they're prettier in a different context. 0:50:45 ... the right hand side, uh, above ya, on the right hand side. Air conditioning panel, you'll see it's a big panel. There's three switches along the top of it. Make sure all three of those switches are in the down position - facing the nose of the airplane. 0:54:05 ... where I've been at this whole time ... 0:54:07 OK, Rich. Thank you. 0:54:09 2500 to be exact. 0:54:11 OK, thank you. And do you have an idea of how much fuel you have left? 0:54:14 Uh, man! Not enough. Not enough to get by, uh, like, uh, 760 - 760 pounds. 0:54:56 - I'm... gonna do this barrel roll real quick. 0:55:01 - Uh, well no need to do that. If you could just start a turn to the right and then I'll tell ya when to stop turning and then you can keep it level from there. 0:55:46 - I wouldn't mind just shootin' the shit with you guys. But all business, ya know? 0:56:49 - I feel like need to be, what do you think, like 5000 feet at least to be able to pull this barrel roll off? 0:57:09 - [INAUDIBLE] you to get hurt either... Uh, if ya could. I see you're still turning to the right. You wanna maybe start making a turn back to the left a little bit? 0:57:20 - Just lemme know when you get him. (Alright) 0:57:51 - He'd be a hero if he could pull off a landing. 0:58:43 - Start another right hand turn. 0:59:18 - All right, Rich. This is Captain Bill. Congratulations. You, uh, did that. Now let's uh, let's try to land that airplane safely and not hurt anybody on the ground. 0:59:27 - All right... ah, damn it! I dunno, man! I dunno! I don't want to. I was kinda hoping that was gonna be it, ya know? [INSTRUMENT ALARMS] 1:01:18 - [INAUDIBLE] ... for long. I feel like one of my engines is going out or something. [FINAL TRANSMISSION] 1:01:22 - OK, Rich. Uh, if ya could, you just want to keep that plane right over the water - maybe keep the aircraft nice and low?

www.eurobricks.com/forum/index.php?/forums/topic/182444-f...

 

The darkness of the temple was all-encompassing. Their hololamps felt like comically weak attempts to fight back, as dim and small as they were. The huge, empty halls seemed to call out to them as they passed. More than once, Nathan thought he’d heard someone.

 

“What was that?” he’d asked Ozz, who stared at him with concern.

 

“Nothing, kid. Just like last time. Get a grip, would ya?”

 

Something glinted in Ozz’s light. He peered at it, trying to get a closer look.

 

Eefo, their guide, (and current victim of blackmail) led from the front.

“Come,” she said. “The deep archives are this way. If there are any records related to Balaam’s Heart, we will find them there.” Then she added, more bitterly, “We can only hope this excursion does not doom the known galaxy.”

 

Nathan frowned over at her. “Or maybe it’ll keep it safe. If we don’t find the Heart, Pyerce might. It’s worth the risk.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Ozz exclaimed, and his excited cry echoed in the tunnel. He hurried over to what he’d found—a pile of artifacts, gleaming beneath the dust and sand. “These babies look valuable!”

 

Eefo and Nathan stood in the entrance of another hall, pausing to look back at him. Eefo couldn’t hide her disgust with his priorities.

 

“Artifacts for processing, not what you seek.”

 

“Yeah, not what we came here for,” Nathan said. “Come on, Ozz. Sooner we get out of here, the better.”

 

Of course, Nathan should never have said that, because that’s the exact kind of thing that leads to ironic catastrophe. And so it did.

The rumbling began quietly, but was deafening before they had a chance to react. The walls were trying to shake apart. The ground bucked underneath them. The tunnel was filled with the cacophony of shouting and the crashing of rock as they all dodged rubble dropping from overhead and dived for cover. What felt like forever was over in just a few seconds.

Nathan pushed himself off the ground and looked frantically for his friend.

 

“Ozz, Ozz!”

 

“Nerd?” came the weak reply, through a layer of fallen rock.

 

“Ozz!” Nathan shouted again, trying to pull away rubble. His efforts were in vain.

 

“I’m alright, kid! Just…in a different room. You got our bounty?”

 

Nathan felt a mixture of relief and annoyance surge through him, and he took several deep breaths. Eefo was getting to her feet nearby.

 

“You okay?” he asked. She replied with a thumbs up.

 

“Yeah, she’s okay,” he told Ozz. “Hey, we’re gonna make it out of this. Listen, try and go back the way we came, or find another path out. We’ll all join back up at the entrance, got it?”

 

“Sure, sure. Me, worried? About the dark? Nah. See ya in a bit, no problem.”

 

Nathan took a moment to rest after the stress of the cave-in. “He’ll be fine,” he told himself.

 

“Perhaps he will,” Eefo replied dryly. “Forgive me for my lack of concern.”

  

“Okay, Ozzie, okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Ozz whispered, casting his hololamp around the rubble to find a good path out. The way they’d come in was blocked, so he chose the next best doorway and started trudging along. “No worries, no worries. Think happy thoughts. You’ll get paid! Oh—“ he turned back and—at least something was going right—a few of the gleaming artifacts were strewn across the floor.

“Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo!” Ozz hooted in glee, scooping up a few golden discs to stuff into his jacket. “Come to Ozzie! Now we just gotta find a way outta this pit, and Papa Ozzie can find a nice fence to hock to you to!”

He was glad Nathan wasn’t here to see him talk to treasure.

Now weighed down with future fortunes, Ozz trudged ahead into the dark tunnels and empty halls of the temple, all by his lonesome. He hummed to himself to ward off any fears. He really needed to start carrying a blaster. Nothing like a blaster to make you feel safe.

 

“Your pockets are heavy, thief.”

 

Ozz spun around, looking for the source of the voice. “Whosaidthat!” he cried, brandishing one of the discs.

 

“A denizen of this sacred place,” said the voice from nowhere.

 

“Oh…oh great, now I’m really going crazy. Amazing. Just ignore it, Ozzie, keep walkin’…”

 

“Ignoring a thing does not make it go away. Your name is Ozzie?”

 

“What? No, it’s…Ozzamandes. Hey, I’m not talkin’ to you. You’re just a voice in my head. Guy might look crazy talkin’ to himself like that.”

 

“I am not a manifestation of insanity, but of the force.”

 

“Ha, the force! Good one, brain.”

 

Suddenly, a creature appeared before him, a woman who seemed both there and not there at the same time, who shone with a ghostly blue glow. Ozz froze in place and stared at her, stunned.

 

She spoke with power and grace, and her face was severe. “A faith is a necessity for a creature, Ozzamandes. Woe to them who believes nothing. Woe to you, for I sense this void...within you.”

 

Shocked, Ozz’s grip went limp. A disc fell to the floor with a ‘clang’.

    

“Follow me,” Eefo said. “I will find us a way out of the tunnels.”

 

Nathan stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second. I want to get out too, but not before we find what we came for.”

 

Eefo’s face twitched. “Don’t you want to find your friend?”

 

“Yeah, but he’ll be fine, and ticked off at me if we leave this place with nothing to show for it. Can we still get to the archives after the cave-in?”

 

Eefo had been caught trying to wiggle out of showing him the archives, and she looked accordingly hateful.

 

“…Yes,” she spat. “Come, do not lose the way.”

 

As they walked, Nathan questioned her.

 

“The Scriptist’s madness, or whatever…he mentioned spirits. That’s just you, right? You’re gaslighting your mentor?”

 

“The spirits are real. The sabotage is mine, but the drain on his mind…the spirits are real. Dark things.”

 

This was not exactly the answer Nathan had wanted to hear while spelunking in a pitch-black tunnel.

“Oh, I see,” he said, shining his light behind him and hurrying to catch up.

  

“So what was your life like around here, huh? See any good holos?”

 

“As a Jedi scholar, I forbade myself from material pleasures, if that is what you ask.”

 

“Sheesh, aren’t you a bucket of fun.”

 

Ozz now continued his journey through the tunnels with the ghost woman at his side.

 

"You scoff. There is moral grandeur in this, no? The renunciation, the sacrifice this station requires? The self-exile, the remembrance of mortality, the committing of one's spirit to mystery and thought rather than toil?"

 

"Hah, I'd love to see you tell that to my pops. He loved toil."

 

"You use the past-tense. Your father is one with the force?"

 

"He's dead, if that's what you're askin'. We didn't see eye-to-eye, so wouldn't make much of a difference if he wersen't."

 

“But now you have another family? One of your own?”

 

“Hah! A family, nah. Just this kid mooching off my ship.”

 

“You have a child?”

 

Ozz shook his head, muttering to himself before replying. “No, no. Human’s name is Nathan, we’ve been working together for a few weeks. Can’t stand the guy, honestly. Always going on about safety and stuff. Takes himself too seriously. Got me fired once! For something I didn’t do, I’ll have you know.”

 

The woman smiled softly. “I sense care in your voice.”

 

“Pah! You’re hearin’ things too, then.”

 

“Love finds us in unlikely places. When it crosses our path, we are often slow to embrace it. We deny ourselves the comforts of familial care in order to protect our vulnerable, fragile egos.”

 

Ozz raised an eyebrow up at her and grimaced. “Geez, you get personal, lady. Bet you were a weirdo as a kid.”

 

They were stopped by sounds up ahead, strange howls and whispers that seemed to slither by in a tunnel before them. The woman flew in front of Ozz, her expression stern.

 

“What the keff was that!” Ozz cried, covering his head and looking around for danger.

 

“Dark spirits. My counterparts. The other side.”

 

“Well geez, terrible roommates! You just all hang out in the temple together? Just a big spirit party, good and bad?”

 

“I do not wish it to be this way. Their presence is a desecration.”

 

“Okay, okay…why don’t you evict ‘em then? You’re all glowly, I bet you could get rid of ‘em.”

 

“It’s not a question of my power, but of my purpose. I pledged myself in life to study and knowledge, it is not my place to raise hands against evil, but to equip those who do. I put them out of mind, and avoid their distraction.”

 

“Hm, couldn’t you make, like, an exception?”

 

She rounded on him, her expression fierce, her eyes wide.

 

“Does my life sound like one of exceptions, Ozzamandes?”

 

Ozz shrunk back from the frightful display. “Well, no. No, that’s a good point. But…”

 

The look on her pale face told him not to continue, but he was never good at listening to warnings.

 

“Well, you don’t really have a life, anymore. You’re—sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this—but you’re dead, lady.”

 

“I know this. Don’t insult my intellect.”

 

“Well then, you did good! You held to your pledges! They were pledges for life, right?”

 

She looked thoughtful, her brow knit. She said nothing.

 

“Besides, weren’t you the one that told me…ignoring something doesn’t make it go away?”

        

The deep archives were once locked behind doors that required power to open, powers neither Nathan nor Eefo had. But time and war wears away all things, this time to Nathan’s benefit. The doors were long since destroyed, and their access unblocked.

It was a narrow hall. Rows and rows of old books, many of them destroyed, lined the shelves.

 

Eefo gestured forward. “Feast away, you fool.”

 

Nathan shot her a look. “Kind of unnecessary, but…thank you for bringing me here. Where do I start?”

 

“Balaam’s Heart? I recommend ‘B’.”

   

“Oh, it works like that? Huh, I expected something weirder,” he said, and he stepped forward to scan the massive stacks.

 

Eefo looked on the shelves—the sheer amount of terrible, dangerous knowledge—and at the young man now searching amongst the tomes. Fear clutched at her heart. Her mind went to the blaster under her robes.

  

“You speak sense. Most unexpected,” the ghostly woman said.

 

“Oh, nice,” Ozz grunted. “I’ll try not to be offended about how you said that.”

 

“My apologies. Perhaps, as a spirit, my purpose is something different than what I was bound to in life. Perhaps I must evolve, as my being has evolved. Perhaps I must oppose the dark things here, and purify this temple. Thank you, Ozzamandes, for speaking with me. It has been most enlightening.”

 

“Sure, sure, any time. Now, I gotta get outta here, any chance…?”

 

“We have been following that path for some time. I have been leading you to your friends while we talked. They are just ahead.”

 

Ozz blinked in surprise. “No kidding? You’re alright, lady.”

 

“Ozzamandes,” she said, and her voice became serious and heartfelt. “Do not deny your care for your friend. You would rob yourself of greater riches than those you carry in your coat.”

 

Ozz avoided her gaze, nodding vaguely. “Oh, uh, sure, sure. Yeah, thanks for the advice.”

 

“And Ozzamandes,” she said again.

 

“What?”

 

“Please leave behind the things you’ve pilfered from my temple, if you please.”

 

“Oh,” Ozz blushed, and he casually removed the golden discs from his pockets and dumped them on the floor as gently as he could. “Sure thing, of course.”

 

She smiled. “Thank you. Farewell, I hope we meet again.”

 

“Me too, ‘cept I got no plans to come back to this joint. But uh, I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

 

A fondly amused expression was the last thing on her face before she faded away, and he was left in the dark. A door stood in front of him.

 

Ozz smiled proudly. “’Most enlightening’…Old Ozzie, who woulda thought!”

  

Ozz entered the deep archives. The first thing he saw was Eefo, hand on her blaster, and an unaware Nathan. Something in his chest swelled up, and his eyebrows furrowed. She was gonna blast his partner? Not on her life.

 

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” he shouted, and Eefo spun in alarm. She hastily drew her blaster. “Nate, look out!”

 

Ozz threw himself into the Rodian researcher, knocking both of them to the floor. The blaster went off harmlessly, a bright red bolt striking an ancient tome and completing its transition to nothing more than a pile of ashes.

 

Nathan ducked and swiveled. He stared at the prone Eefo. A few seconds and he would’ve been toast.

 

“Woah, woah! Thanks Ozz!” He suddenly grasped that Ozz was here, and grinned widely. “Ozz! You made it!”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ozz said, dusting himself off. Eefo looked trapped. “Had some help. I’ll tell ya about it later. Geez, once a spy, always a spy, huh!”

Eefo glared at him defiantly. “You’ll bring ruin to the galaxy!” she said, her voice trembling.

 

She stood on shaking legs, and occasionally her eyes darted towards the shelves, wide with fear. She was like an animal, and Nathan felt, most of all, pity. He understood what was driving her.

 

Nathan grabbed Ozz's arm and pulled him aside. He whispered, "Hey, I'm trying to honor what you said on Yavin, I'm telling you before I do something crazy."

 

Ozz looked at him warily. "...Kid, whatever you're thinking, you better not risk our profit, here. We're in a golden spot with this!"

 

"No, I'm not okay with how we've done this. Catching spies is one thing, but blackmailing, threatening deserters to get what we want?" He shook his head firmly. "That's not how I want us to do things."

 

Ozz looked between his eyes, searching for a way to convince him otherwise. There was no chance. He had no choice but to back down.

 

"That's...another payout lost, kid. I hope you know what you're doing: we need credits! Finding your girl is gonna take credits, you understand?"

 

"I know, we'll figure it out! I'm sure we can pick up a side job or something, but...I want to let Eefo go free. She's not even a spy anymore."

 

Ozz threw up his hands. "Have it your way. But you're the least lucrative partner I've ever had."

 

"This pays off in other ways, Ozz.” He turned back to the Rodian, approaching her cautiously.

 

“Hey, I’m not mad that you wanted to shoot me, alright? It’s…well, it’s not okay, Eefo. But I get it.” He stepped forward, and she flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her. “We’re going to let you go free. You don’t have to worry about us leaking anything, or telling anyone where you are, okay?”

 

Eefo raised a brow skeptically. She waited for him to continue.

 

“Now, I know you think what we’re doing is wrong. But…I wish you could trust me. My intentions are nothing but good, I swear. You’re right that this is dangerous stuff. The Empire is looking for it, and I can’t leave whether they find it or not up to chance. Please, you don’t have to agree, but…don’t shoot me?”

 

She met his gaze, and gradually seemed to calm. Her eyebrow still twinged in frustration, but she sighed, and the fight had left her.

“Yes. Alright.”

 

“Great,” Nathan nodded. “Ozz, help me find this book!”

 

Ozz was already by the stacks, and held up an old pile of slates bound together with rope. “Was it ‘Balaam’?”

 

“Yeah, why—“

 

“Here ya go.”

He passed the slates to Nathan. Sure enough, Balaam’s name was on them.

 

“No way,” Nathan said, staring. “Ozz, thank you!”

 

“No problem,” he shrugged, unaware of his partners efforts to do what he’d just done in one glance.

 

“We’ve got what we needed. Let’s go see sunlight again, huh?”

    

Eefo led them back through the tunnels until they found the staircase they’d originally descended. They were cheered to see the light flooding through the open archways of the temple doors. Cold wind filled their ears as they crossed the old atrium floor and ventured out into the open air.

They gasped in horror when they saw the sky.

An Imperial Light Cruiser lay in the upper atmosphere. A small, white shape was gliding down towards them; a shuttle.

 

“Aw, hell,” Ozz grunted, slumping hopelessly.

 

“No!” Eefo screamed. “No! They’re coming for the temple!”

 

Nathan blanched, and held Balaam’s slates tightly under his arm. “We’ve got to get out of here. We can’t fight that thing.”

 

“The temple is bad enough, but we must not lead them to the Searchers! The unencrypted archives, the research, they cannot be allowed to have it!”

 

His jaw firmly set, Nathan made a decision. “Ride back to the outpost, I’ll hold them here.”

 

“Kid,” Ozz said weakly. “What the keff are you gonna do?”

 

A plan was formulating in his mind. Nathan approached the small conductor Eefo had planted in the ground when they’d arrived.

 

“Eefo, show me how to work this thing. Then you both go, get to safety!”

 

“Hey, kid,” Ozz said, his tone full of worry in a way Nathan had never heard.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“We’re gonna come back for you. Just hold out, okay? Trust in the…the force, or whatever. You better be alive when I get here.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Nathan shrugged. “Chances aren’t great.”

 

A grin broke on Ozz’s face. “Oy, bring back the optimism. You’re downright depressing, you know that?”

  

“I’ll bring back the optimism when we make some money, how about that.”

 

“Oh, so never.”

 

“Well, never say never!”

 

“Ha! There it is,” Ozz grinned. He patted Nathan on the side. “Take care, kid. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

“Geez, what’s gotten into you?”

 

“Oh, shut up. I dunno, had some time to think while I was in those tunnels. Anyway, enough dwaddling! Let’s get this show on the road!”

 

“Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit, Ozz.”

 

A few minutes later, Ozz and Eefo sped back towards camp, Balaam’s slates in hand.

Alone at the entrance to the temple, Nathan waited for the shuttle to touch down.

 

Here is the transcript of Palin's speech....doesn't really say much....the only thing people want to know is why....and you wont find those answers in her speech.

 

Posted by Anchorage Daily News

Posted: July 3, 2009 - 2:17 pm

Gov. Sarah Palin:

 

Hi Alaska, I appreciate speaking directly TO you, the people I serve, as your Governor.

 

People who know me know that besides faith and family, nothing's more important to me than our beloved Alaska. Serving her people is the greatest honor I could imagine.

 

I want Alaskans to grasp what can be in store for our state. We were purchased as a territory because a member of President Abe Lincoln's cabinet, William Seward, providentially saw in this great land, vast riches, beauty, strategic placement on the globe, and opportunity. He boldly looked "North to the Future". But he endured such ridicule and mocking for his vision for Alaska, remember the adversaries scoffed, calling this "Seward's Folly". Seward withstood such disdain as he chose the uncomfortable, unconventional, but RIGHT path to secure Alaska, so Alaska could help secure the United States.

 

Alaska’s mission – to contribute to America. We’re strategic IN the world as the air crossroads OF the world, as a gatekeeper of the continent. Bold visionaries knew this - Alaska would be part of America's great destiny.

 

Our destiny to be reached by responsibly developing our natural resources. This land, blessed with clean air, water, wildlife, minerals, AND oil and gas. It's energy! God gave us energy.

 

So to serve the state is a humbling responsibility, because I know in my soul that Alaska is of such import, for America’s security, in our very volatile world. And you know me by now, I promised even four years ago to show MY independence… no more conventional “politics as usual”.

 

And we are doing well! My administration's accomplishments speak for themselves. We work tirelessly for Alaskans.

 

We aggressively and responsibly develop our resources because they were created to be used to better our world... to HELP people... and we protect the environment and Alaskans (the resource owners) foremost with our policies.

 

Here’s some of the things we’ve done:

 

We created a petroleum integrity office to oversee safe development. We held the line FOR Alaskans on Point Thomson – and finally for the first time in decades – they’re drilling for oil and gas.

 

We have AGIA, the gasline project – a massive bi-partisan victory (the vote was 58 to 1!) – also succeeding as intended - protecting Alaskans as our clean natural gas will flow to energize us, and America, through a competitive, pro-private sector project. This is the largest private sector energy project, ever. THIS is energy independence.

 

And ACES – another bipartisan effort – is working as intended and industry is publicly acknowledging its success. Our new oil and gas “clear and equitable formula” is so Alaskans will no longer be taken advantage of. ACES incentivizes NEW exploration and development and JOBS that were previously not going to happen with a monopolized North Slope oil basin.

 

We cleaned up previously accepted unethical actions; we ushered in bi-partisan Ethics Reform.

 

We also slowed the rate of government growth, we worked with the Legislature to save billions of dollars for the future, and I made no lobbyist friends with my hundreds of millions of dollars in budget vetoes... but living beyond our means today is irresponsible for tomorrow.

 

We took government out of the dairy business and put it back into private-sector hands – where it should be.

 

We provided unprecedented support for education initiatives, and with the right leadership, finally filled long-vacant public safety positions. We built a sub-Cabinet on Climate Change and took heat from Outside special interests for our biologically-sound wildlife management for abundance.

 

We broke ground on the new prison.

 

And we made common sense conservative choices to eliminate personal luxuries like the jet, the chef, the junkets... the entourage.

 

And the Lt. Governor and I said "no" to our pay raises. So much success in this first term – and with this success I am proud to take credit... for hiring the right people! Our goal was to achieve a gasline project, more fair oil and gas valuation, and ethics reform in four years. We did it in two. It’s because of the people… good public servants surrounding the Governor's office, with servants' hearts and astounding work ethic... THEY are Alaska's success!

 

We are doing well! I wish you'd hear MORE from the media of your state's progress and how we tackle Outside interests - daily - SPECIAL interests that would stymie our state. Even those debt-ridden stimulus dollars that would force the heavy hand of federal government into our communities with an “all-knowing attitude” – I have taken the slings and arrows with that unpopular move to veto because I know being right is better than being popular. Some of those dollars would harm Alaska and harm America – I resisted those dollars because of the obscene national debt we’re forcing our children to pay, because of today’s Big Government spending; it’s immoral and doesn’t even make economic sense!

 

Another accomplishment – our Law Department protected states’ rights – TWO huge U.S. Supreme Court reversals came down against that liberal Ninth Circuit, deciding in OUR state’s favor over the last two weeks. We’re protectors of our Constitution – federalists protect states’ rights as mandated in 10th amendment.

 

But you don’t hear much of the good stuff in the press anymore, do you?

 

Some say things changed for me on August 29th last year – the day John McCain tapped me to be his running-mate – I say others changed.

 

Let me speak to that for a minute.

 

Political operatives descended on Alaska last August, digging for dirt. The ethics law I championed became their weapon of choice. Over the past nine months I've been accused of all sorts of frivolous ethics violations – such as holding a fish in a photograph, wearing a jacket with a logo on it, and answering reporters’ questions.

 

Every one – all 15 of the ethics complaints have been dismissed. We’ve won! But it hasn't been cheap - the State has wasted THOUSANDS of hours of YOUR time and shelled out some two million of YOUR dollars to respond to “opposition research” – that’s money NOT going to fund teachers or troopers – or safer roads. And this political absurdity, the “politics of personal destruction” … Todd and I are looking at more than half a million dollars in legal bills in order to set the record straight. And what about the people who offer up these silly accusations? It doesn’t cost them a dime so they’re not going to stop draining public resources – spending other peoples’ money in their game.

 

It’s pretty insane – my staff and I spend most of our day dealing with THIS instead of progressing our state now. I know I promised no more “politics as usual,” but THIS isn’t what anyone had in mind for ALASKA.

 

If I have learned one thing: LIFE is about choices!

 

And one chooses how to react to circumstances. You can choose to engage in things that tear down, or build up. I choose to work very hard on a path for fruitfulness and productivity. I choose NOT to tear down and waste precious time; but to build UP this state and our country, and her industrious, generous, patriotic, free people!

 

Life is too short to compromise time and resources... it may be tempting and more comfortable to just keep your head down, plod along, and appease those who demand: "Sit down and shut up", but that's the worthless, easy path; that's a quitter's way out. And a problem in our country today is apathy. It would be apathetic to just hunker down and “go with the flow”.

 

Nah, only dead fish "go with the flow".

 

No. Productive, fulfilled people determine where to put their efforts, choosing to wisely utilize precious time... to BUILD UP.

 

And there is such a need to BUILD up and FIGHT for our state and our country. I choose to FIGHT for it! And I'll work hard for others who still believe in free enterprise and smaller government; strong national security for our country and support for our troops; energy independence; and for those who will protect freedom and equality and LIFE... I'll work for and campaign for those PROUD to be American, and those who are INSPIRED by our ideals and won't deride them.

 

I WILL support others who seek to serve, in or out of office, for the RIGHT reasons, and I don't care what party they're in or no party at all. Inside Alaska – or Outside Alaska.

 

But I won’t do it from the Governor’s desk.

 

I've never believed that I, nor anyone else, needs a title to do this - to make a difference... to HELP people. So I choose, for my State and my family, more "freedom" to progress, all the way around... so that Alaska may progress... I will not seek re-election as Governor.

 

And so as I thought about this announcement that I wouldn’t run for re-election and what it means for Alaska, I thought about how much fun some governors have as lame ducks… travel around the state, to the Lower 48 (maybe), overseas on international trade – as so many politicians do. And then I thought – that’s what’s wrong – many just accept that lame duck status, hit the road, draw the paycheck, and “milk it”. I’m not putting Alaska through that – I promised efficiencies and effectiveness! ? That’s not how I am wired. I am not wired to operate under the same old “politics as usual.” I promised that four years ago – and I meant it.

 

It’s not what is best for Alaska.

 

I am determined to take the right path for Alaska even though it is unconventional and not so comfortable.

 

With this announcement that I am not seeking re-election… I’ve determined it’s best to transfer the authority of governor to Lieutenant Governor Parnell; and I am willing to do so, so that this administration – with its positive agenda, its accomplishments, and its successful road to an incredible future – can continue without interruption and with great administrative and legislative success.

 

My choice is to take a stand and effect change – not hit our heads against the wall and watch valuable state time and money, millions of your dollars, go down the drain in this new environment. Rather, we know we can effect positive change outside government at this moment in time, on another scale, and actually make a difference for our priorities – and so we will, for Alaskans and for Americans.

 

Let me go back to a comfortable analogy for me – sports… basketball. I use it because you’re naïve if you don’t see the national full-court press picking away right now: A good point guard drives through a full court press, protecting the ball, keeping her eye on the basket… and she knows exactly when to pass the ball so that the team can WIN. And I’m doing that – keeping our eye on the ball that represents sound priorities – smaller government, energy independence, national security, freedom! And I know when it’s time to pass the ball – for victory.

 

I have given my reasons candidly and truthfully… and my last day won’t be for another few weeks so the transition will be very smooth. In fact, we will look to swear Sean in – in Fairbanks at the conclusion of our Governor’s picnics.

 

I do not want to disappoint anyone with my decision; all I can ask is that you TRUST me with this decision – but it’s no more “politics as usual”.

 

Some Alaskans don’t mind wasting public dollars and state time. I do. I cannot stand here as your Governor and allow millions upon millions of our dollars go to waste just so I can hold the title of Governor. And my children won’t allow it either. ? Some will question the timing. ? Let’s just say, this decision has been in the works for awhile…

 

In fact, this decision comes after much consideration, and finally polling the most important people in my life - my children (where the count was unanimous... well, in response to asking: "Want me to make a positive difference and fight for ALL our children's future from OUTSIDE the Governor's office?" It was four "yes's" and one "hell yeah!" The "hell yeah" sealed it - and someday I'll talk about the details of that... I think much of it had to do with the kids seeing their baby brother Trig mocked by some pretty mean-spirited adults recently.) Um, by the way, sure wish folks could ever, ever understand that we ALL could learn so much from someone like Trig - I know he needs me, but I need him even more... what a child can offer to set priorities RIGHT – that time is precious... the world needs more "Trigs", not fewer.

 

My decision was also fortified during this most recent trip to Kosovo and Landstuhl, to visit our wounded soldiers overseas, those who sacrifice themselves in war for OUR freedom and security… we can ALL learn from our selfless Troops… they’re bold, they don’t give up, they take a stand and know that LIFE is short so they choose to NOT waste time. They choose to be productive and to serve something greater than SELF... and to build up their families, their states, our country. These Troops and their important missions – those are truly the worthy causes in this world and should be the public priority with time and resources and NOT this local / superficial wasteful political bloodsport.

 

May we ALL learn from them!

 

*((Gotta put First Things First))*

 

First things first: as Governor, I love my job and I love Alaska. It hurts to make this choice but I am doing what’s best for Alaska. I’ve explained why… though I think of the saying on my parents’ refrigerator that says “Don’t explain: your friends don’t need it and your enemies won’t believe you anyway.”

 

But I have given my reasons… no more “politics as usual” and I am taking my fight for what’s right – for Alaska – in a new direction.

 

Now, despite this, I don’t want any Alaskan dissuaded from entering politics after seeing this REAL “climate change” that began in August… no, we NEED hardworking, average Americans fighting for what’s right! And I will support you because we need YOU and YOU can effect change, and I can too on the outside.

 

We need those who will respect our Constitution where government’s supposed to serve from the BOTTOM UP, not move toward this TOP DOWN big government take-over… but rather, will be protectors of individual rights - who also have enough common sense to acknowledge when conditions have drastically changed and are willing to call an audible and pass the ball when it’s time so the team can win! And that is what I’m doing!

 

Remember Alaska… America is now, more than ever, looking North to the Future. It'll be good. So God bless you, and from me and my family - to ALL Alaska - you have my heart.

 

And we will be in the capable hands of our Lieutenant Governor, Sean Parnell. And Lieutenant General Craig Campbell will assume the role of Lieutenant Governor. And it is my promise to you that I will always be standing by, ready to assist. We have a good, positive agenda for Alaska.

 

In the words of General MacArthur said, “We are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.”

I don't care who this guy is. I think I may be in love. Now, before you start saying shit, here me out: this guy literally kicked me off a rooftop. Beforehand I'd be lucky to find someone who could limply smack me across the helmet with a rusty pipe before I literally sliced them in half. This guy's giving me what I've been looking for for so damned long: a good fight. A nice fair one, too. I put away my sword and he knew what was going on. Before we know it we're trying to rip each-other apart with our bare hands in the middle of a cloths store. He was quick, he hit hard, and he knew what he was doing and what he was dealing with. Right up to the point where we took it to the street and he threw me into the stone barrier of one of these minigarden things they have in front of fancy-ass buildings.

 

"Are we done? I've got things to do."

 

"No...Lemme ask you something."

 

"*sigh*...make it quick."

 

"You getting anywhere with sorting out that hypocrisy problem of yours?"

 

"...I don't follow you."

 

"Oh fuck you. You say you hate illegal dealers, yet you're nothing but a toy for one."

 

"I get my weapons honestly, buddy. I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"Chris fucking Cain. I know you're on his bill. You wouldn't have tried to blow Patton's head off if you weren't."

 

"My work is none of your business."

 

"His business is, though. Like his secret oversea business with the terrorists and the weapons shipment..."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Yep! He's a backalley training shitstain who's selling weapons to eastern European terrorists! And you're working for him. The exact kind of thing you say you hate."

 

"Why should I believe you?"

 

"Because if I was bullshitting, neither of us would be here."

 

"I needed that payroll, though..."

 

"Money's all your after? Bud, Cain's got that in spades. And you can get that easy, too. All you gotta do is follow me."

 

"You want me to help you?"

 

"Yeah! You're a complete badass as I've found out so you'd be good help, and you'd get the money and get back on the fuck who lied behind your back. Whaddaya say?"

 

".....only because I need the money..."

Theme Song: By The Sword - Slash, ft. Andrew Stockdale of Wolfmother

 

Well they claim they'd like to know,

anyone could let you go,

and the people gather 'round for the last show,

 

Well there is no reward,

to live and die by the sword.

Well they tried to complicate you,

but you left it all behind...

 

Day 6 - Third Dream: Beginning of the Tormentor

 

The next ghost to appear was my third Kitten, Aspira Tsarchon - or Aspie Kitten, as I had once affectionately called her. So much was going on at this time in my life as Ioh. I had come off the loss of my second Kitten and soon found Aspie. We had hit it off really well. She was unlike my last two Felixi, as I called them. Their proper title was Felix Amans, meaning 'loving Kitten'. The idea was that they were to be my happiness.

 

But with each passing on of the title from one female feles to the next, the title seemed in some way a mockery to that happiness I sought for. It was beginning to take an ironic twist, to which the lesson should have been how unattainable happiness was for me. Others took a different view on what this 'changing of the guard' really meant, about how I supposedly changed women as often as some changed their underwear. Maybe they were right in some ways, but only by a fraction. They did not have the full story. They never had it, and they never will. Even if by some miracle they happen to come across my pondering in this astral plane, they will never fully understand, and most likely don't care to. But that's fine. This telling of it is not for them, but for me.

 

This is my Purgatory. I've binged on the poison of holding these things in my soul for far too long. It's now time to let them depart from me and leave. That's if, whatever torments me still in this new existence will allow it. Maybe I can will it to be gone - however this works, anyway. Who knows? Maybe I'm condemned to Hell, and this is only the beginning of my sorrows and torments. Only progression through this backwards flow of memory in this place without any real frame for time will tell.

 

What remembrance brings to me of this Kitten is many days and nights upon the Den talking. About what? I cannot remember most of it. Much of it, at first, could be summed up in the usual talk that comes with courting between a female and male feles - actions of learning each other's scents, seeking names to go with the scents, to become familiar and recognized. Oh, of course there was taking in the visual physique as well, to eye her up as she sizes me down - all to see if we're suitable for each other. It would seem to not take too long to come to the conclusion that we were.

 

Reason would have said to take longer to get to know her. Who said I ever worked fully by reason? A feles is a cat, and cats work on instinct. So, where reason is lacking, instinct takes over. With falling in love, instinct reigned supreme in the character of my feles. On that note, I will bend that my detractors may have gotten it part right in their derision. Yet, if they were true to their instincts, which many of them were, they too were in and out of mates just as often, and likely for the same reason - the nature of their instinct. 'Judge not, lest ye be judged' would seem to have been the appropriate phrase to speak to them while living.

 

Now I am dead. I face the judgment of the ghosts of my past alone.

 

Regarding this ghost, I had thought that maybe I had found the one to turn the tides. Maybe Ioh could finally settle down. But, again, distractions came. This time it came by way of a promotion - one that led me into a covert operation that, for a time, defied even the rules of the Pride.

 

You see, there was this young female human soldier that had a habit of coming around the Den, causing trouble for the Catwalkers. Her name was Satomi Ashbourne. I suppose she had thought she was some Bourne Supremist style Black Ops sort of military girl. Maybe it was because her character came from a long line of military heroes that carried the last name of that famed fictional character of the books, which were made into movies in the decades to come - even up to the decade that this Another World RP was happening in. The data records of the Pride might still have the report of one of her attacks. Such a report I once had in my hands and glossed over, having gotten the original from the very source, a kitten who was working as a Ghost then. It had this to say:

 

Doings with the Military

 

Johnny and I came back to the Den after a walk. We were met by the sharp crack of gunfire. I hit the catwalk and peered over the edge to find Aspira down there with a UAC recruit. The recruit was on the ground with a gun in her hand. Aspira was bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds.

 

Johnny and I dropped down to see what was going on. Aspira wasn't in good shape. But she told us that she'd found the recruit (I'm not sure where, Aspira was not clear) and she obviously wasn't well. The recruit was acting as though she had been mauled, but didn't have any physical damage to her. Aspira tried to help her, and the recruit shot.

 

The recruit, Ashbourne was her name, dropped her empty gun. I kicked it away. Johnny and I tried to talk to her, but that didn't go well. I could sense from her that she was afraid of us - of feles. I sent out a text, but Johnny was the closest thing we had to a stitcher on hand. I went up to the Gore Den to get a sedative, and Johnny administered it to Ashbourne.

 

It didn't put her fully out, but mellowed her some. She calmed down until I told her I'd get her back to the bunker where she belonged. She couldn't talk. She withdrew a sheet of paper and began to point at letters, spelling things out. She told me that she was afraid to go back to the military compound. She didn't want them to know she was unfit for duty.

 

Aspira told me that this was the person who'd shot Dui. She also said that Calle had tortured the recruit, and that someone had put the idea into the recruit's mind that she'd been mauled by cats. I could sense that about her - she was deeply afraid to be near us, and something wasn't right with her mind - she was altered.

 

The recruit kept pointing to her sheet of letters. Only then did I realize what the paper was. It was a military duty roster.

 

I sent Johnny up to the roofs to tend Aspira's wounds. Kittenwalker trainee Requiem came down to me to help move the recruit. I couldn't let her stay here, even if we were helping her. I felt we needed to get her back to her own people.

 

That's when a military doctor showed up, Dr. Avro. She came into the alley and asked what had happened. I explained as best as I knew. She and Requiem got the recruit to her feet. I carefully slipped the duty roster out of the recruit's limp hand. She tried to snatch it back, but failed.

 

Avro and Requiem carried the recruit back to the bunker. I went with them. Ioh also came along. I was thankful to have him along, going into military territory as we were. We got there without incident, and then came back to the Den, also without incident. It's been quiet since then.

 

The partial list of names on the duty roster:

 

McDunnough

Allen

Bury

McCallen

Zenovka

Ashbourne

Avro

 

Tober, I'm giving you the list with my report in case you see any other information on it. I hope it's not too badly crumpled from having been tucked in my boot...

 

Elise

 

Not long after this recruit had been taken back to her military compound was she found out and about. Near the Den again. One of the Pride's protected mice was there helping the enemy. And so, the event, from what I recollect, went something like this:

 

"Hey, help me get her to the MC, ey?" said the mouse.

 

I replied, "Didn't she attack the Den earlier?"

 

The recruit recognized me from her first night. Whimpering, she pulled away from the mouse to try and find a corner to hide in.

 

The mouse nodded, "Yeah, and she attacked it again. But I don't make a habit of killing people if it's not absolutely necessary."

 

I smirked at the mouse, "Since when have the Catwalkers taken intruders to the hospital? We could just as easily fix her up in the Gore Den and hold her hostage until she can answer us on why she's so committed to come back every time we shoo her off."

 

The recruit tried to pull away.

 

Looking at me, the mouse blinked, then shrugged. "That works for me."

 

"Here." I handed him a roll of medical gauze I carried, normally for medical emergencies. "Take and wrap her ankles, I'll get her wrists"

 

The recruit saw the gauze and looked down nervously at her upper leg.

 

"Not like she's in a position to do much, but fair enough." The mouse moved down to her legs, taking the gauze and wrapped it tightly about her ankles, tying it into a secure knot.

 

I then took her wrists, put them behind her back and tied them tightly together, "Alright, now help me carry her to the Gore Den."

 

The mouse nodded, and lifted up the tied ankles of the prisoner. "After you?"

 

I nodded back to the mouse and then proceeded to carry Satome by the upper body, mindful, but not terribly so, of her shoulder.

 

Reaching the Gore Den, Elise and Johnny were found inside. Johnny had just put Elise to sleep as I and the mouse came in with Satome.

 

"Anything new out there?"

 

Johnny asked as we were coming into the door. I nodded to him as I dragged Satomi to the medical bed, holding her down. I then looked to the mouse and asked, "Can you get some medical belts? I'll look her wound over after she's secured."

 

"Sure, replied the mouse as he padded over to a cupboard and opened it. He took out the belts and placed them on the bed beside Satomi.

 

"Alright," said Johnny as he looked curiously over the situation I and the mouse brought into the Gore Den. He then asked, "Anything you want me to do?"

 

Satomi quivered upon the medical bed, looking around the slightly-familiar room. Her eyes were wide with fear. Rational fear. Not the blind panic of her earlier confrontation with the Catwalkers.

 

Taking the belts, I strapped them upon Satomi. One around her chest. Another, her waist. And another, her legs. Unceremoniously, I tore away the gauze at her wrists and ankles. Looking to Johnny, I replied to his earlier question. "Sure, you got medical experience? If so, how about checking her shoulder out?" Whether I had been out of the loop for some time, or was just messing with the Stitcher, I cannot remember now. Both were likely possible then.

 

Johnny gave me a look and said, "Yes, I do have plenty of medical experience" He headed over to the medical bed to take a look at Satomi's shoulder.

 

I nodded to him. "Good, we'll patch her up a bit so she doesn't die, then see if she's willing to talk after some rest."

 

"Two rounds in her shoulder. Should be easily removed." Johnny then turned and readied his set of tweezers, then sighed, "How many bullets am I gonna pull out of people today..."

 

Satomi whinced and looked at the tweezers.

 

Casually, I gave Johnny my own assessment of the wounds upon the recruit. "Looks like she's got a gunshot wound to her left shoulder, her left knee, and neck - oh yeah, " I took out my pistol, and shot her right knee, "And there too!" I smirked, then looked to the recruit, "Sorry, but that was payback for shooting my Kitten earlier."

 

Satomi's back arched in pain. She looked at me with confused pleading eyes in her eyes. I grinned, "Don't worry, that bullet will be personally taken out by me." Picking up my own medical tweezer, I then asked Johnny, "What do you think, should we sedate her first before operating?"

 

Satomi's right knee is pulsed in pain. Bone was fractured where the bullet lodged into her kneecap. Blood flowed onto the Gore Den's medical bed. She was busy chewing on her lip to keep from crying, and looked at me again, still not understanding.

 

Johnny sighed. "I'm really not in any shape to be taking care of someone who shot my mate. So I honestly don't know what would work"

 

The mouse sighed as well. "She's already been beaten up enough as it is, just do it properly."

 

I shrugged and looked at the stitcher, "Sedation, or no sedation, Johnny? It's your call."

 

"Alright then." Johnny replied, "Not like I'd harm one of my patients. Hand me a sedative vial then."

 

I shrugged at his reply, "Alright, guess that is the least we could do for her."

 

The mouse handed Johnny one of the marked vials. His tail gave a flick as he did so. "Not like torturing her further is going to make it easier to get answers."

 

Johnny shook his head and took the vial. Injecting a syringe into it. He drew up a set amount of the liquid before tapping the needle to remove any air in it.

 

Satomi nodded slowly in gratitude to the mouse. Her face seemed a hair more relaxed knowing the sedative was coming, and that the pain would finally abate. Something at least was going her way.

 

I shrugged at the mouse's comment, "It may or may not."

 

Johnny then leaned down to look in her eyes. His own hazel ones narrowed in on her. "Before you get anything, you're going to have to tell me why you have been attacking our kitties."

 

I looked to Johnny, "So how long should the sedative take to take effect?"

 

"Well, after I get what I want to know, it should take around a minute or two."

 

I nodded, then sighed, "She may not speak tonight though."

 

Satomi didn't burst into tears. Rather, they just welled up and slid down her cheeks. She looked at Johnny and shook her head slowly, trying to make writing motions. Her frustration was visible.

 

I then shrugged, "If she's not going to speak, I'll just pull the first bullet out without the sedative."

 

Johnny spoke to her with a sigh. "You can tell me later." He then moved in and injected the sedative. "Know this: if you hurt my family, or mate ever again, I won't miss the next time I shoot at you." He continued to talk to her as he went to get his tweezers ready to pull out the first bullet "I'm really not a bad person. But what you did was enough for me to show my nasty side."

 

Before leaving, I added an extra sedative. Enough to put her out for the night. Before she fell asleep, I looked into her eyes, "Alright soldier, you rest here. Don't try anything stupid, and you just might live. You got it?" I didn't wait for her answer, knowing by now that waiting for a response from her now would be useless. I tugged on the belt straps to make sure they were secure, and then headed out of the Gore Den.

 

But for all the securing of the prisoner made, it would seem my efforts where vain. After stitching the girl up, I left the Den for a while to take care of a few other things. When I came back to the Den, I decided to be friendly to a Kittenwalker before checking in on Satomi in the Gore Den when I found out the news.

 

"Hello, you're a fairly new recruit, right?"

 

The Kittenwalker stopped doing what he was doing for a moment as he saw me there. He gave a small shrug of his left shoulder, then replied back, "Pretty new. I've helped defend the Den and went on patrol with Nevs so far."

 

As he spoke, I heard Dui merr at me and felt her bump into me. I mewed back, "Hey there." I nodded to the Kittenwalker and said to him, "Don't think I got your name yet." Turning back to Dui I asked her, "How you been?"

 

Dui folded her arms, feeling the cool of the evening. "Good. I guess." She gave Requiem a polite nod.

 

"Requiem, Sir." Said the Kittenwalker.

 

"Nice to meet," I said to him, then turned back to Dui, "So what you been up to?" Fiddling with with my PDA, I sent out a text: *txt* hey Nevs, so how's our hostage?**

 

"Besides healing up? Not much." She shrugged, then continued on to say, "Got the talk from the Matron today about my broadcasts."

 

Requiem gave Dui a bow before he raised to nod to Ioh. "Likewise."

 

I blinked at the gesture and looked to Dui, curious. "Healing up, from what? And what about the broadcasts?"

 

Dui chuckled, "It's the downside to me being away from the Den so much. Anyway, that military girl in the Gore Den put a bullet in me at the rave last week."

 

The text came back from Nevers:

 

*txt* Linds let her go with 2 military medics**

 

I mrred, being somewhat in confusion at the response back from my text. I raised an eyebrow, then smirked at Dui. "You mean the one that was in the Gore Den." I mumbled a bit, and sent another text: *txt* what?**

 

"You didn't kill her, did you?" Dui looked to Requiem, "Did he kill her?"

 

"I almost did before she got to the Gore Den." Requiem replied.

 

I mrred again. "Maybe I should have." I grumbled as I waited for a response back from Nevers. I then smirked, as I snapped at the Kittenwalker. "Yeah, and you and Elise handed her to the military compound ealier after the raid she had done on the Den yesterday" I then looked at the received message, and the virtual conversation went as follows:

 

Nevers Decatur: *txt* Matrons decision.**

Iohannes Crispien: *txt* but why? We didn't get any answers from her about why she's attacking us.**

Nevers Decatur: *txt* don't ask me I just follow orders.**

Iohannes Crispien: *txt* alright then. I guess I'll handle this personally on my own. 'Cause you know she's coming back**

 

Dui sighed, "Not like I care. I just don't need the heat right now. And the Canis didn't want her."

 

Requiem smirked a little. "She still came back."

 

Dui Zhang smiled as she added, "I think she's into the kinky stuff."

 

As Nevers came onto the Den rooftop, he glanced at his phone as he walked up to me. "I know, Ioh. But we do what they want us too right?"

 

Requiem turned as he heard Nevers come up. "Greetings, Sir."

 

Dui glanced over to Nevers, and added with a wink. "Hey mister."

 

My nod to him was reluctant, and I grumbled at Nevers' reply. I then gave him a look that would seem to say, "Just don't mention my last message."

 

Nevers nodded back. "Hadn't intended on it"

 

I grinned. Then, looking to a rooftop, I said, "I think I need to go, patrol, for a little while."

 

Nevers snickered, "Do whatcha gotta."

 

Dui blinked, looking at me suspicious as I readied to depart. "Uhm, OK. Be good!" She looked to Nevers expectantly.

 

Nevers tilted his head at Dui's look. "What?"

 

I gave a final nod, then mewed to Dui, "Take care all."

 

I could hear Dui's merring as I left, then her reply to Nevers, "I was just wondering if you were leaving, too."

 

And so began my hunt for Satomi. But, as this journaling of sorts is not about Satomi as much as it is of Aspira, I will save the rest of the story for if, or when, my dreams come upon that scenario of Ioh's life. Rather, I need to return to that first turning moment in my life with Aspira, which should have sealed our fates together. That is, Apira's confession:

 

I was looking down from a ledge, spying my Kitten on an awning above the main street. To someone I did not know, she held her hand up as if to say stop right there. "I don't accept food from strangers either."

 

Cez was there and, in that usual dramatic flare she was known for, threw herself at someone else I didn't know, and hugged him. The stranger that Cez embraced grinned big, hugging her in return "Hey girl."

 

The stranger who had tried to give something to Aspira snorted and shook his head, dropping the fish on the ground. "People just don't seem to like the one guy who goes out of his way to help."

 

Cez giggled at the familiar stranger. "How are you hon? All good?"

 

Aspira watched the strange stranger and replied, "Thanks but like I said I don't accept things from those I don't know."

 

I hopped down from the shadows of the roofs. Seeing Aspira, I grinned behind my mask, saying in a familiar voice, "Did you call me a stranger Kitten?"

 

The familiar stranger to Cez nodded his head slowly and purred deeply from his throat. "Aaaaaall good. How are ya?"

 

The strange stranger snorted again and walked away.

 

Cez smiled and nodded to her familiar stranger. "I'm good too..." She then shrugged. "The city is kinda calm."

 

Aspira turned around to see me crouched behind her. My identity was hidden from her. "No," she replied to be, "but I will now. Is there something I can help you with?" She eyed me while slowly taking a step back.

 

Cez nudged her familiar stranger. "So, up to something special?"

 

I walked closer, still, to Aspira, speaking again in a familiar voice, "You still don't recognize me, do you Kitten."

 

Sensing something familiar in my voice she whimpered softly. She knew the voice, but everything about the person crouched in front of her was wrong. "No. I don't recognize you."

 

The familiar stranger nodded to Cez replied to her, "Sure is." He tickled her a bit on her side, then stuck out his tongue playfully. "Not up to nothing."

 

Cez's eyes looked up to the awning when she heard Aspira speak. "What the - Aspira?" She stared at her familiar stranger. Then, mumbling, she said, "Sorry. Gotta take care of something." She then jumped up on the awning. Raising a brow, she asked, "Aspira, how are you?"

 

I smiled at Aspira, "Good. Then my disguise is working." I grinned again behind my mask.

 

The familiar stranger watched Cez as she went up onto the awning. He furrowed his brow, scratching the side of his head confused. He shrugged and sprinted down the street before deciding to take a seat.

 

Aspira looked to Cez. "I'm ok for the moment." She looked over her left shoulder again. "There's always ground."

 

Having assessed the situation, Cez hopped down and went to her familiar stranger. "So, how's it going with the Pack? And are you still on your own?" She winked at him.

 

The familiar stranger nodded and smiled "Not bad." He tilted his head to the side confused. "Huh? On my own?"

 

Cez giggled. "Yeah. Aren't the Pack females fighting for ya?!"

 

Back on the awning, Aspira looked at me in my disguise and took a deep breath. "I don't think this is funny at all." She softly mewed disheartened, because she knew the voice by heart, but she could not smell me, nor see me, as and I was acting so secretive.

 

The familiar stranger grinned and shook his head to Cez's questioning. "I've got Kuja, for always and ever."

 

Cez smiled. "Awww, how sweet. And too bad." She stuck her tongue out playfully.

 

His brow perked, the familiar stranger looked confused again, and asked, "Why too bad?"

 

Another stranger leaned in to give Cez a hug saying, "Well I'm gonna go patrol. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

 

Cez turned around, hugged the other stranger and smiled. "Yeah, talk to you later. Take care hon."

 

While this was going on in the streets, I looked to Aspira, and smiled behind my mask. "If you know my voice, and you trust me, then come with me to the rooftops above."

 

Aspira watched me a moment. "I know the voice. And I trust I know who it belongs to, but sometimes my trust is misplaced and I end up hurt. But I will go with you."

 

Yet another stranger crouched on the edge of a roof. He looked around for Cez, then spotted her. He called out to her. "Cez! Can you help me out with something for a moment?"

 

Cez laughed at the initial familiar stranger's comment, and smiled. "You're too cute. But good to hear you're all good." She looked up at the newcomer stranger and replied to him. "Yeah, sure. What?"

 

The familiar stranger blushed a bit at Cez's comment and felt relieved when her attention went to the roof. He looked to the ground, smiling lightly.

 

The newcomer stranger threw a thumb over his shoulder, indicating yet another stranger. "I have a friend here who just arrived. She needs a place to hang out in Midian. She's a feles, so I figured you might be able to help me out."

 

Back up to the awning with my Kitten, I nodded to her, hugged her close, then shot a grapple towards the upper rooftops. I whispered in her ear, "Hold tight."

 

Aspira nodded back at me and held tightly while closing her eyes.

 

Cez could be heard on the street calling out "Comin'!" even as she turned to the familiar stranger to ask. "Is it okay if I help them out?"

 

I made my way with my Kitten up to the Police rooftop, then set Aspira down. I removed my mask and smiled. "Hello again Kitten."

 

Aspira opened her eyes just so she could watch me. When I removed my mask, she almost instantly bursted out in tears and hugged close to me. Feeling her hug, I purred, then asked, "You miss me?"

 

She nodded while burying her face into my chest. Tears stained my shirt. "I was worried sick Ioh." A soft loving mew slipped past her lips against my chest.

 

Suddenly, I heard a voice, presumably from a cop say, "I've never actually been here before."

 

I held Aspie close, then mrred as I saw the cop with my eyes. "Wasn't expecting company. Let's move Kitten."

 

The cop looked at the two of us, probably wondering what we were doing up there.

 

I grappled off with Aspira towards the rooftop of a club I was certain at that time would not have anyone come up and intrude. I murred after landing and set Aspie down on the rooftop. "Sorry about that - unexpected company."

 

She mewed softly and nodded, still holding close to me, and still crying. "Ioh you're a monster." She pouted softly.

 

I tilted my head, "A monster. What do you mean?"

 

Aspira peaked up at me from the folds of my shirt. "This is the first time I've ever in my whole entire life cried. And you made me do it."

 

I hugged her close and sighed, "I'm sorry Kitten. It's, business," I said, hesitantly, "Have to keep the Pride safe, you know?"

 

Aspira mewed softly and licked my lips gently. "I love you so much is why." She pointed to her hair, "Do I have gray hairs here?" She grabbed her tail, pulled it around and looked at it, then nodded to him. "I know Ioh, but you just poofed and it scared me."

 

I slightly chuckled at her comment about grey hairs, then shook my head, "You'd have lovely silver locks, my love." I then sighed, "Aspie...." I looked at her stitched shoulder, "How is the wound?"

 

She sighed at the change in subject so quickly. "It's fine Ioh. It hurts, but I'm a big girl and ignore it." Her head is hung. "Ioh, I want a gun. I don't want to be forced to fight with my bare hands against someone with a gun again. Arcann was right."

 

"You should at least have a pistol, if not something with a little more firepower for some of the mech types around." I shrugged, "But no matter, a gun is the last resort in a fight."

 

Aspira looked up at me. "I know that, but twice I've been staring down the barrel of the same gun. Next time someone puts a gun in my face I want them to pay for it. I'm tired of looking down everyone else's weapon and have to rely on just my hands to get out of a situation like that."

 

I held her close, "Kitten, just remember, though there's a slight leverage to having a gun, you still have to be ready to be firm in negotiating. In most cases, you try to get them to back down. But that doesn't always work." I looked her straight in the eyes, piercing hers with the seriousness in mine, "Do you think you can pull the trigger, if worse comes to worse?"

 

She looked back into my eyes and nodded slowly. "Ioh, I don't think I could stop pulling it. I might be nice and innocent. But if someone is threatening my life, I am not scared to take one. I'm tired of everyone else having to rescue me. I want to rescue myself too.

 

Don't get me wrong, Ioh. I love when my hero saves me, but you can't be by my side every waking moment." Her hands rubbed lightly up and down my body as she purred softly.

 

"I understand that you want to protect yourself." I sighed, then added, "But Kitten, if there's something that worries me as much, if not more, is going trigger happy. A gun gives power, yes. Especially to decide if someone lives or dies. But remember, the person you shoot has a life, and possibly people he or she loves, or at least loves them."

 

Aspira buried her face in my chest tightly. "I won't go trigger happy. You've seen me try to talk my way out of situations. Especially when a gun was involved." She then softly mumbled, "I just want to prove that I'm not a worthless Kitten."

 

I murred, then held her close. "Kitten, you are not worthless."

 

She listened to my heart while closing her eyes. "Kitty, when you've been told you can't do something so many times it makes you feel worthless. Especially when you've been told that you are worthless." As she exhaled her cheeks grew red hot as if she were embarrassed to say that.

 

I rubbed her back, then brushed her cheek with my other hand, bringing her chin up so I could look her in the eyes, my own showing tears welling up, "You're not worthless. I don't care what anyone else has said. You are the most valuable person to me, my love." My heart fluttered a bit when I said it, indicating my strong passion then.

 

She placed her hand over my heart as she kissed me deeply. Tears started to well up in her eyes again just seeing mine. The other hand lightly scratched at my stomach, trying to calm me. Softly she purred. "You are the most valuable person in my life too Kitty. And I'd announce it to the world if I could."

 

Turning she cupped her hands over her mouth and screamed into the open air. "I LOVE IOH WITH ALL MY HEART AND HE IS THE MOST SPECIAL PERSON IN MY LIFE. FOREVER AND ALWAYS. HE STOLE MY HEART FROM THE BEGINNING, AND I'VE LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT." Turning back to me she softly kissed my cheek and looked into my eyes.

 

I blinked at her shouts. My heart still fluttered - both surprised and enamored. "Kitten." I could not say anything more, as words seemed to mount to nothing adequate enough to describe my joy then in hearing my love's confession. I held her in tight embrace and kissed her. I then purred a whisper in her ear that seemed to echo in the night skyline, "I love you too."

 

Aspira kissed me back deeply. She smiled as I purred my words of my affection in her ear. She seemed calm. As if she had meditated for hours. But it was my effect on her. "Kitty, I can't even speak how much you mean to me. I would give everything I have and more for you. I couldn't dream of life without you. It would be impossible." Mewing, she whispered into my ear. "You are the one I want to turn gray- er, 'silver' with. Because you pull my heartstrings in such a way that without you I'd never be able to live again."

 

I held her close in a hug. Leaning in to kiss, purring upon her lips as our lips embraced. He smiled, "My Felix, you bring me great joy in your words. I then bind myself to you here and now to be your Kitty for as long as we both shall live."

 

Aspira mewed, looking up after kissing me back, loving the feel of my purr on her lips. "Really? You would do that?" Tilting her head to the side some she smiled wide. "In that case, I bind myself to you Kitty, to forever be your kitten." She purred loudly, letting me feel the vibrations - the joy showed on every inch of her body.

 

I nodded. My own purrs intensified in passion as I felt her own purring. Then I kissed her. "I love you, my Aspie Kitten."

 

Aspira kissed me back. "I love you too, my Ioh Kitty!" She nuzzled and smiled.

 

*sighs*

 

Tears fall to my eyes, as even now, in the darkness of my personal prison. I remember this pinnacle moment in a life and love lost. I could forget that, in reality, she had a boyfriend then. I want to forget that, not long after this, she was raped ICly by a yaoi bunny boy, and all the implications of consent that went with RPing such a scene. And, I could easily forget my own treachery in which another love began blooming not long after that rape brought the division of its scandal upon this Felix. I would forget all that just to be able to hold that happiness of that night on the rooftop when my Aspie Kitten had then confessed undying love. I almost could come to believe in undying love, if not for the fact that the tragedies afterwards happened and destroyed that sentiment and hope in what now seems a fool's dream. This too foreshadows one of my last times in dreaming such a dream, and striving for that happiness to be a reality. But no. A darker reality was my fate. Cursed love. Forever to fall in and out of love. To seek happiness, but never really find it. Now I suffer the result of that fate. This deep darkness of my own surrounding in this existence - the prison of my own making.

 

And maybe that is justice. I blindly loved, and so now, I am eternally blinded and left alone in the dark, never to hope for happiness of any sort to come to me ever again.

 

***

 

Well there's those who choose to run

Following the setting sun,

And now it seems the journey has begun.

 

They tried to complicate you,

But you left it all behind,

All the worldly possessions,

Are left for recollections,

And finally it's all gone!

Do not see justice where there isn't any, and leave the bad guys attitude... to the bad guys

"To a friend..."

- Hey Dude.

- Ho, hey bro, wassup?

- Not much, just calling to say hi.

- Well, nice to hear from you.

- Wassup with you?

- Nothing actually. Same old, same old... oh, in fact, you remember the guy we talked about, a couple of months ago... the one who had a great day laughing when I almost died?

- Yeah, sure, that asshole...

- Yep... a friend of mine just pointed to me that website he's on, you know... and the fucker just got dumped.

- Eh eh...

- Wait, wait, that's not the entire point. It didn't surprise me that much, because of his girlfriend telling me, like a year ago "I'd prefer he boning me once in a while instead of smoking pot and playing video games with his friends".

- No way. She actually told you that?

- I swear, honest to God. I was the first surprised because we didn't know each other that well and she wasn't even drunk at the time.

- What a loser...

- Yeah, well... so, it gets better. His girlfriend dumped him for another girl. Which shouldn't be that much of a bigger deal, but seems to be for him at least.

- What a loser...

- You already said that.

- Yeah, well, he deserves a refill. But wait, how come you know all that stuff?

- Told you, a friend brought his internet page to my attention. A mutual friend. This guy's got the best of friends. So, anyway... it's been one of my home pages since. Because, believe it or not, the guy is crying out loud on it every day, for everyone to read. Get some support from his internet buddies. At least he got them, seems like he doesn't have any other friends anyway.

- Poor bastard.

- That he is. So, day after day, I'm like "hey, let's see what's new in his miserable life."

- Isn't it kind of a voyeur thing?

- Come on, the guy just put it on display on his web site for everyone to read... should be happy some do. He was all crying and aching and desperate first. Go to a shrink. Took pills. Cried a lot. And then some more. Like any other fella got dump by the woman he loves. He repeats that he is a good and nice man full of love.

- Yeah, right. For what I know he's a mean motherfucker, a real bully. He enjoys other's people suffering, he's rude, insults you regularly since what, a year now, even if you never answered or reacted in any way... what I say is, he's a bully. I guess in school he was the one picking on the little and weaker ones. And love... 'course he's full of it... I remember his website, just full of self-portraits. Oh yeah, he's full of love... of himself. I'm sure if he could fuck himself, he'd do it. Yeah, as full of love as full of shit, man.

- Seems like you know him good. You sure you two...? Anyway… and then comes that period, you know, when you go from "I wanna die" to "Let's start fresh." and back, many times a day. Of course, when you read it from your place, it just looks pitiful. Like, the guy goes for two days in Amsterdam, doesn't smoke a joint, and tells everyone he's no junkie anymore, the addiction is gone, he is a better man with suuuuuuuch a big strength. Like he is a superhero or something.

- You think he believes that shit himself?

- Actually, he might, I guess... not the smartest guy I've met, gotta say.

- That's sad. Hilarious too, but sad.

- Exactly, but the saddest is yet to come. What phase comes often just before or just after that?

- Anger?

- Precisely. Anger. That's what's he is in now. Totally pissed against his ex-girlfriend. He curses and insults her. On his web site, I mean. No love anymore. Why he's been with her for so long will stay a mystery. She's a whore. She played him. She's just another lesbian fooling a nice, smart, gentle and good looking guy to get a kid and then leave. And so on… So much for the nice person full of love, isn't it?

- Wait a sec... they got a kid?

- Yes. The poor little guy. His father is totally fond of him...

- Quite normal.

- Of course, and he's got those magnificent plans for his son. You know, like "I'm gonna make sure you're going to have THE best life full of adventures there is." He kind of gets all poetic since the breakup. Not really nice to read, his writing is pretty bad, but funny sometimes.

- So, all that makes you laugh your ass off, I guess.

- Not really.

- How come? This guy has thrown shit at you since a full year at least. Again and again and again. Never in front of you, but he just never stopped doing it. You read it, you saw it, people told you about it… He even had a blast when he learned you were that close to die a few months back. He's a prick. You know it. So, if I were you, I would have the time of my life reading his shit. Don’t tell me you don’t!

- I pity him.

- Oh, come on. He's pathetic, sure, but he deserves it. Something like divine justice, ying and yang, karma or so...

- In fact not even. I won't say he doesn't deserve it, of course. He's not a nice guy, objectively. Not a real bad guy, though, you know, just... a mean prick, a bully as you pointed out. And I smile at what he writes, I do. But I'm not enjoying his misfortunes. I find it sad. It doesn’t make me sad, that is. It is sad. And I can't help but pity him. I pity his life. And, at the end, I don't find any pleasure in it, even if I would be entitled to, I guess.

- You know why that is, dude?

- Why?

- Because you're one of the good guys, that's why.

- Hope so. Really do.

- You are, and believe me pal, I know what I'm talking about here.

- I know you do.

- So, besides of all this, you comin' to Suzy's party on Friday? I hear there's gonna be a lot of nice people there...

 

---

 

Have a look at my portfolio - 0% little crazy stories certified : philippe leroyer

It seems like only yesterday that I was holding the little 'football sized package' that was her in my hands...

 

looking at the girl and wondering what the hell I was gonna do now.

 

I've been a single dad to her since she was just over a year old and somehow she survived my lack of experience as a a parent and grew into a beautiful and intelligent teenager, well balanced and adjusted...

 

much too quickly if you ask me.

 

I thought the most difficult part was gonna be when she had her first period.

 

I'd ordered two books on the subject... written for single dads... from Amazon.

 

But they didn't arrive in time.

 

When she told me I dunno what happened.

 

I must have turned a little pale and stumbled in my response...

 

because she just hugged me and said 'it's gonna be alright dad.'

 

I thought that would be the toughest part but I was wrong.

 

She's gone on her first 'date.'

 

With a boy.

 

Who plays the guitar.

 

It's not really a date I guess.

 

They're just going to watch a movie at his house.

 

I let him come over once and watch some movies here.

 

I thought it would be a good opportunity to get some fingerprints and maybe a DNA sample.

 

To run extensive and thorough background checks.

 

My little 'agents' kept me informed about what was going on.

 

But this one's at his house.

 

I made sure his parents are gonna be there...

 

and I had a little conversation with my daughter on the way.

 

After we walked the gauntlet of her little sister's saying 'Sisi's in luh-ove... Sisi's in luh-ove'...

 

we got into the car and drove a couple of blocks with the radio turned up too loud strategically on her part I suppose.

 

She knew what was coming when I turned the radio down.

 

'I want you to respect yourself' I said.

 

'And remember that there are long term ramifications to the things that you choose to do' I reminded her.

 

'You don't want to become a single parent... I know how hard that is' I said.

 

'I know dad... he's not that kind of guy' she said.

 

If I was drinkin' a beer at that moment... and gahd knows I was wishin' I was... I woudda snorted it out my nostrils laughing... but somehow I managed to keep a straight face.

 

'I worked really hard to convince all the girls parents that I wasn't that kinda guy either sweetheart' I said.

 

Until this very moment I'd never given a single thought as to how those girls dads felt.

 

I thought about all of the lies I'd told all of the girls in my teens and twenties.

 

How much shit I'd 'left out' in my early thirties.

 

'Guys will say anything to get what they want... you can't believe what they say... you gotta believe what they do.'

 

For good measure I brought up the single parent thing again.

 

Just to drive the point home.

 

'Don't you believe a guy is gonna be there for you if he gets you pregnant' I said.

 

She just looked at me and I nodded for emphasis...

 

inhaling and raising my right eyebrow as high as I could just to punctuate the statement I'd just made.

 

I couldn't tell if she was gettin' me or not right there.

 

'Does he know about my extensive firearms collection' I asked her.

 

'No dad... but I'll tell him you've got ten rifles.'

 

'Eight sweetheart... but two of them are assault weapons' I reminded her 'with high capacity magazines.'

 

I thought maybe I should tell her about the time I stabbed that guy with the bottle in Japan... when I got kicked out of the country.

 

Or the agent I had plotted to kill in Beijing in the summer of 1990.

 

With my bare hands.

 

But I left the last two out.

 

I didn't wanna ruin the moment for her you know?

 

Pulling up to his house and doing a quick inventory of the vehicles in the driveway I looked at her before she got out.

 

'I trust you' I said trying to maintain eye contact.

 

'Respect yourself.'

 

I drove home thinking all about karma and how it's comin' home to me right now.

 

I got in and uncapped a beer figurin' it might calm me down.

 

The sudden urge to clean a rifle or two overcame me.

 

You gotta give them a chance to grow up I guess.

 

You can't keep them from making every mistake.

 

You just gotta hope you did the right thing and raised them with the proper values.

 

This is where it gets nervewracking I thought as I knocked back the last of the Stella Artois and fished through my ammo looking to see if I had any birdshot for the Mossberg 500.

So Abe's gonna throw Mike a little birthday party complete with presents, huh? That's pretty cool of him. Still not sure he's gonna make a good superhero, but he's a helluva friend for sure. Speaking of friends, Me and the crew are gonna meet and old friend tonight in the industrial. ever since Sherman Fine AKA The Broker failed to kill Steph and I a couple months ago, his crew's been tied up in a three-way gangwar between Queen Widow and the Roadkill gang, the two other morons who tried to kill us not too long ago. Sherman's been keeping to himself lately so we think he's up to something. And we're right. It's not too long before we're following a black van into the industrial district. The location of the Roadkill Gang's current clubhouse. Sherman and two gorillas in suits hop out of the van. The goons are holding ARs, but that's not what I'm concerned about. What I'm concerned about is Sherman hefting a giant missile launcher on his shoulder. I can sorta buy Sherman having access to ARs, but a missile launcher? Yeaaaaah no. Whoever's selling missile launchers to morons like him I've gotta shut them down. Right as Sherman starts to aim for the clubhouse door, Jackie uses his powers and pulls it out of his hands. Kid did him a favor. He would've wasted a rocket on a clubhouse with no one in it. Steph took down the monkeys with ARs and I, of course, handled Sherman. I don't know what was faster, Steph taking down the goons or me wrapping my hand around Sherman's neck. But whatever. It's time for the fun part.

 

"Hey Sherman! How's it going, buddy? You work on your backswing at all. Think you can actually break someone's jaw yet instead of handing out lovetaps like you did a few months back?"

 

"Go to hell, kid!"

 

"Good to see urban warfare hasn't changed you. If you can call it that, anyway. Now, those rifles your guys had, those....ah, crap. Hey Spoiler, what are those anyway?"

 

Steph was already holding one of the ARs. She looked at it for a bit with a confused look on her face. Well, guns aren't her thing anyway. Not really a thing for any of us.

 

"I...I don't really know. Brand names have been filed off. Think it's a bushmaster. AR-15?..."

 

"AR-15!...Yeah, I can believe you have a few of those lying around. But you having a few of...dammit. Pulse, what's that thing called, exactly?"

 

"Nothing filed off, Robin. It's a 'Patton Arms MPML7000 Excalibur'."

 

"A military-grade missile launcher, pretty much? You having one of those lying around? I call BS. Where'd you get it."

 

"Bite me!"

 

"Figured you say that. Hey Spoiler, there's a few chains over there. Could you get them?"

 

"Why? What are you doing?"

 

"You'll see. Hey little buddy, see if you can start up those motorbikes there."

 

"What the hell are you thinking?"

 

"If you wanna find out, then please, don't tell me where you got the missile launcher."

 

"F-fine! I don't really know. It's a backalley dealer! One of my guys found him and we met in the Diamond District a block down from the royal hotel. That's all I got."

 

"That was easy, wasn't it Sherman? But backalley deals? And I though you were a legitimate buisnessman."

 

One hard shot across the jaw and he's out cold. Honestly, he caved easier than I figured. When I asked Steph and Jackie about the chains and motorbikes, I was pretty much just telling them to get the first thing I saw and tried to make is seem as scary as possible. If he didn't cave then I'd have no idea what the hell I'd do. I'd have to be way more creative than I'd like, I guess.

 

"Well, someone's selling military weapons on the street and we've got a location. You ready, crew?"

 

"Yeah. But am I the only one who's got a funny feeling about this? I mean, weapons dealing in the Diamond District?..."

  

"...and there was smoke, a loud bang...I was stunned or something for a bit, and when everything cleared, Jackie was gone."

 

"You didn't get a look at the perp?'

 

"...no."

 

The one night we take off to just get a little relaxation in, and it ends like this! We got a call from the GCPD at about 4 or 5 o'clock. At first what the officer on the phone said confused me. Then I just felt physically sick. On their way back to Abe's house, Jackie and Johnny were ambushed by...someone, but they only took Jackie. Now he's gone. I don't know where he is, if he's hurt, or even alive. There's a manhunt in Abe's neighborhood right now, and we're at the GCPD, in Abe's office nonetheless. There's me and Tim, an officer, Abe at his desk, and his son Johnny. Johnny's the sole witness of this whole thing, yet he barely saw a thing. He looks confused, and kinda sad as well. I was just sitting there holding back tears. I lost my little buddy...

 

"Was their anything I could've done? Could I have helped him?..."

 

"Don't beat your self up, kiddo. You couldn't do much. Officer Blake, my wife is waiting downstairs. Can you take my son here to her? I need to talk to these two in private."

 

"Yes sir."

 

The officer had Johnny follow him out. The look on Johnny's face as he walked out was horrible. It was like guilt and sadness in one. Poor kid probably feels like he could've stopped this. We all wish we could... The officer shut the door of Abe's office as he left, leaving us in private. Abe sat back in his chair with his face buried in his hand out of distraught. We all sat in silence for a good minute until Abe leaned forward on his desk and looked us in the eye, a solemn look in his own.

 

"I'm not gonna pretend I know how you two feel. This is one of my worst fears, but it hasn't happened to me. All I can say is I'm sorry. Maybe if I didn't let them run around the neighborhood--"

 

"Stop. You didn't know. Stuff like this doesn't happen in Gotham Heights. You figured it was safe like it should be."

 

"Y'see here Tim, that's why I wanted to talk to you two in private like this. I've lived in Gotham Heights for a good enough time know to know stuff like this ain't right. And then there's who was taken. Jackie isn't normal."

 

"W-what are you saying?"

 

"What I'm saying is I don't think this is a simple abduction. Someone's gotta know what Jackie is and who he's really with. Tell me, did you guys mess with someone big while you were in costume recently?"

 

"Well, there was Queen Widow and The Broker...but they don't know who we are...right?"

 

"Those D-class idiots? They couldn't find us out if we kicked them in the ass with our masks off. Not alot of people know who we are...but we do have a couple personal enemies."

 

"Tell me."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Who are these personal enemies? I can help."

 

"Arlington, look-"

 

"No, you look! Jackie's important to all of us here. He's basically your little brother. And as for me, he's the only friend Johnny has. I'm not gonna let him lose something like that. Johnny deserves what innocence he has left. Jackie's helped him keep it. So please, let me help. I'm already assigning myself to the police case anyway."

 

"Abe, I'd more than love any help we can get. But some of our enemies...our real personal ones--"

 

"Are monsters. You don't wanna be near these kinds of evil."

 

"I can handle myself, you two. I've encountered some pretty scummy people myself. I'm not afraid. I just want to find a boy and bring him back to his loved ones. That's all."

 

"...fine."

 

"Great. Now, who are these 'personal enemies'?"

 

Whoa. Tim's actually working with Abe? I shouldn't be too surprised, I guess. He's probably as desperate as I am. Still, didn't make feel any less horrible. I think while Tim and Abe wear busy talking, a few tears got out...

*KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK*

 

"C'mon, answer the fucking door!..."

 

"Adam, I really don't think he's here."

 

"His car is in front of the house, Cody!"

 

"Bruce Wayne has tons of cars, man. Some of them he doesn't exactly take to cocktail parties...."

 

*CRREEEEK*

 

"Good evening, gentlemen. How may I help you?"

 

"Alf--- Mr. Pennyworth, right?"

 

"That is my name, sire."

 

"I'm Adam Janusick, friend of Tim Drake. I need to speak to Bruce Wayne, it concerns Tim!"

 

"Mr. Janusick? I believe I remember you. You took a foam raft of sorts and floated around our fountain."

 

"Now's really not a time to hold old stuff against me, This is important!"

 

"Hold such a humorous antic against you? Why would I do such a thing? You shined some light to this rather dark place."

 

"That's cool and all, but where's Bruce Wayne?"

 

"Master Wayne is out for the night. Might I ask why you wish to see him and not Master Drake?"

 

"Lemme guess, Wayne's busy fighting Killer Croc right now or something?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Do you know what Bruce and Tim do with their nights at all Mr. Pennyworth?"

 

"Of course. Master Wayne either attends parties or business matters, while Master Timothy is either with you or his girlfriend Stephanie."

 

"Yeah, about her, she's kinda in deep trouble, too. They've been captured and now their lives are in danger. For all I know they're dead already! Please, you gotta get Bruce for me!"

 

"Mr. Janusick, of all your antics this one is the least humorous."

 

"This isn't a damned joke! Do you really want Bruce to lose another Robin!?"

 

"Robin? I'm sorry Mr. Janusick, I'm afraid I have no idea what you're on about."

 

"You gotta be shittin' me! Tim and Steph are gonna die! We need Batman NOW! Look, we have the coordinates to where they're being held, if you could just--"

 

"Excuse me, but the phone is ringing, important matters. Have a good evening gentlemen."

 

"Where the hell do you--HEY!"

 

*SLAM*

 

"Son of a BITCH!!!"

 

"Well, if it helps, you're probably right about what Bruce is doing."

 

"Yeah, no shit. And now there's no way to get him!"

 

"Yesterday's news said the Justice League were active with relief efforts for a disaster-struck Pera Langit."

 

"So he's on the other side of the fucking planet!? FANTASTIC!"

 

"What are we gonna do?"

 

"Something I don't wanna do, but as far as I can tell I've got nothing better to do. Wanna go to the costume shop with me?"

   

Promise of Reunion

  

--------

  

"Wanna see?" A figure behind them said

  

"Huh? Wha?" Before Vaultor and Kumi could turn around to see who the figure was, they were pushed into the toy box

  

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Both screamed as they fell into the dark toy box.

  

Boom!

  

"Uhh" Kumi slowly opened her eyes and immediately sat up

  

"VAULTOR?!" Kumi looked around, there were crayon scribbles everywhere.

  

"My rose.....Where is it..." Kumi looked around for it. She walked around the blue dolls, mannequin heads, & headless statues.

  

"Blue petals....." Kumi noticed small blue petals on the ground.

  

"MY ROSE!" She ran to it and found out there was still one petal left. "Ah, Close one!"

  

"W-what is this? Ah! Vaultor! Where is he?!" Kumi stood up and started looking around. When she found Vaultor lying on the ground, she ran up to him

  

"VAULTOR! Wake up!" She shook him.

  

"Mm..." He stirred. "Oof....Ugh..I hit my head..." Vaultor slowly stood up.

  

"Kumi, Are you okay?" He asked

  

"I'm hurt all over..." She replied

  

"Huh? Wha...No fractures or anything, right?"

  

Kumi shook her head

  

"Well, you can still walk...Don't scare me like that!"

  

"Sorry."

  

"It's okay. At any rate....." Vaultor looked around the room. "This place is full of scribbles. Is this the toy box?"

  

"It seems like it....."

  

"We fell from the upper floor...after she pushed us...Well, let's look for the key and get out!"

  

"Mm!" Kumi nodded and both soon walked around the room to search for the missing key.

  

"The building we haven't looked in was pink, right?" Vaultor asked

  

"Yes."

  

"So it must of blended in with something pink in this room. But where...."

  

"Maybe that pink cat scribble over there!" Kumi pointed. Both walked towards the pink scribbled cat and found the pink key.

  

"We found it!" Kumi picked it up.

  

Suddenly, there was a rumble.

  

"Wh-What?" Kumi was beginning to shake.

  

"I don't like this...." Vaultor pulled Kumi close to him. "It's just like before."

  

The room turned blue and the objects on the floor began moving slowly.

  

"What's with these guys. Kumi, Hang On!" Vaultor said

  

"Okay...." Kumi shouted and grabbed onto Vaultor tightly.

  

The objects began moving closer towards them. Vaultor tried to avoid them but they were coming towards them even faster so he ran towards the exit quickly and jumping over the objects.

  

When they arrived at the exit, they caught their breaths

  

"Whew, that was a close one." Vaultor panted

  

"Yeah. wonder what down there is about...." Kumi pointed down the hall as they turned left.

  

"Let's keep going." Vaultor held Kumi's hand and both walked to a wall full of poorly drawn gray flowers.

  

"What is this....." Vaultor looked

  

"Maybe there's something up there...."

  

"Let's keep going, watch your step." Both carefully walked up the steps and appeared in the same room when they found the toy box, only it seemed different than before

  

"?!"

  

"Did...did this room change?" Vaultor said

  

"It seems like it....Look! Those gray roses on the walls weren't there before..." Kumi said pointing at the roses on the wall.

  

Vaultor and Kumi walked up to the wall.

  

"Hey, I can see stairs from here. But they are covered by these thorns." Vaultor said

  

"It's like they are telling us that we can't go up there." Kumi looked at the vines

  

"Got to get through though." Vaultor inspected the vines. "These thorns seem odd, almost like they aren't real. They don't feel lively as plants should, very much fake"

  

"What to do then. We can't pull them, we can get hurt!" Kumi said

  

"But maybe we can burn them." Vaultor smirked and pulled out his lighter.

  

"Yeah, we could do that." Kumi smiled

  

"Alright, let's burn them." Vaultor set his lighter off and placed it near the thorns. They started burning.

  

"It worked!" Kumi cheered

  

"Looks like we can go through! C'mon on." Vaultor placed his arms around Kumi and both walked up the stairs to a whole new room.

  

"Hm? This room...This isn't the toy box, is it?" Vaultor asked

  

"It doesn't look like it..." Kumi replied

  

"More importanly, see that Kumi?" Vaultor pointed. "That painting on the far wall. I think I've seen it before, let's take a look."

  

Both were about to reach the painting until footsteps echoed behind them. It was someone running up the stairs. Vaultor and Kumi turned around to see a figure appear.

  

"Who's there?!" It was Francine.

  

"..!"

  

"....Kumi, Vaultor...You're both okay?" Francine asked surprised. "How did you get into this room?" Her mood changed to anger.

  

"Leave..." Francine threaten

  

"Francine...You..." Vaultor began

  

"Don't take another step!" Francine shouted

  

"Wha...Francine.." Kumi studdered

  

"LEAVE RIGHT NOW!" She shouted at the two.

  

Francine pulled out her palette knife.

  

"now! NOW! NOWWW!" Red anger appeared on the ground where she was standing. This was it. This was the true form of Francine.

  

"LEEEEeeeEEEeeAVE!!!!" Francine yelled as she whipped her knife towards the duo.

  

"KUMI, COME ON!" Vaultor yelled at Kumi. Both ran towards the painting.

  

"What do we do?!" Kumi shouted in fear. "She's coming closer!"

  

"YAHHHHHHH!!" Francine yelled as she was closer and closer as she was about to thrust her knife at the two

  

Vaultor blocked Francine's attack.

  

"YAHHHH!" She yelled. Vaultor tried to avoid the knife as Francine continued to thrash her knife around.

  

"LET! ME! GO!" She continued to yell as Vaultor tried to weigh her down. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

  

"KUMI! CATCH!" He tossed his lighter at Kumi as she caught it in her hands.

  

"BURN IT! BURN THE PAINTING! NOW!" Vaultor yelled. Kumi set the lighter off

  

"KUMI! STOP!!!!" Francine shouted. Kumi ignored Francine and tossed the burning object at the painting and turned around.

  

"?!" Francine stopped and looked at the painting. "Wha....." The painting was began to burn, glass broke out of the painting case. The sharp edges were falling on Kumi. She was frozen where she was as she saw what was going on.

  

Vaultor ran to Kumi and pulled her away from the glass falling as one sliced his hand opened while pulling her away

  

Francine watched in horror as her painting was burning.

  

"Ah.....NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" Francine shouted in agony and backed away. Dropping her knife, she stood where she was and screamed. Her body slowly turning to charcoal and pretty soon, she crumbled to the ground in a pile of dust.

  

Vaultor fell to his knees.

  

"Vaultor!" Kumi ran to him and crouched down

  

"*pant* I gotta say, she was a scary one...Anyways, She burned up more violently than I expected. Are you okay, Kumi? The glass shattered after all."

  

"Yes, I'm fine." Kumi noticed Vaultor's hand. It was bleeding. "Vaultor! Your hand!"

  

"Hm? My hand? Oh you're right, I cut it. I didn't even noticed. It must have just happened. It's just a minor." He smiled

  

"No it's not. Here." Kumi reached into her pocket, pulled out her handkerchief and handed it to him.

  

"Ah, a handkerchief, may I use it?" He asked

  

"Yes." She smiled warmly

  

Vaultor looked at the handkerchief in his hands. "Isn't this real lace? Well, I don't particularly want to tarnish this." He noticed the blood soaking the lace. "Too late, unfortunately."

  

Kumi carefully tied the wounded cut. "Thanks Kumi."

  

"You're welcome." She smiled happily.

  

"Well then, let's get going." He stood up.

  

"Wait, let's see what's in this room." Kumi said

  

"Okay then." He replied

  

Vaultor walked up to the piled ashes of Francine. Next to it, was the palette knife.

  

"She really wasn't human after all...." Vaultor sighed

  

"Vaultor. Look." He turned around to see Kumi holding a book. He walked up to it and saw what it was. A book that had words written in crayon.

  

"I wonder what it says..." Both began to read

  

I like the visitors coming in to live with me, but I want to leave this place myself and live outside. But unless I take the place of someone from outside, it seems I can't do that....Won't somebody come soon? Won't somebody come soon.....

  

"This must be Francine's diary" Vaultor sighed

  

"So that must be the reason about her situation." Kumi said as she closed the book

  

"Yeah...." Silence fell as they continued to look around. When they found nothing, they decided to leave.

  

"Kumi, do you still have the pink key?" Vaultor asked as they exit the house

  

"Yeah, let's go see the pink building." Kumi replied

  

Both headed off to the pink building and placed the key at the keyhole. When they entered, they were greeted with a stair going downward on the other side of the room. They began to walk down the stairs.

  

"Whoa, it's dark. Watch your step, Kumi." Vaultor held Kumi tight to him and both walked down. When they reached the bottom, they turned left and noticed that they were in somewhere.

  

"This place seems familiar...." Kumi said

  

"It seems like it's the art gallery." Vaultor answered

  

"Only, it's darker than the other one." Kumi looked around. It was indeed dark.

  

"Vaultor?"

  

"Hm?"

  

"Do you think, that big painting will be here too?"

  

"I don't know, let's go see." Both walked upstairs and walked down to the big painting.

  

When they arrived, Kumi read the nameplate.

  

Fabricated World. Once you go in, there's no going back. All your time here will be lost. Will you still jump in?

  

"Hey, isn't that the former gallery? Does that mean, if we jump into this, we'll go back there?" Vaultor thought

  

"But how are we going to jump into the painting?" Kumi asked

  

Then, flashing lights appeared and the huge frame disappeared.

  

"Kumi, Look! The frame! It's gone! Now might be our chance!" Vaultor jumped into the painting.

  

"Yes! I'm really in. Hurry up Kumi!" Kumi was about to leap in until she heard her name

  

"Kumi...."

  

Kumi turned to see who it was. It was her mother, Draculaura

  

"Kumi, What's wrong, come on!" Vaultor said but Kumi ignored him. He was wondering who she was talking too.

  

"Kumi! I finally found you! Sheesh, I was looking everywhere! Don't just go running off places on your own." Her mother warn.

  

Kumi was confused how her mother was here. The gallery was empty, but her mother was here.

  

"Your father is waiting for you too, see? Let's go Kumi." Her mother smiled

  

"Kumi! Hey, what are you doing?! Hurry up and come over." Vaultor said to Kumi

  

Draculaura took a step forward.

  

"KumI! How many times have I told you? Don't go with strangers!" She said sternly

  

"Hey, It's not scary, okay? You'll be fine!" Vaultor tried to get her attention.

  

"Kumi! Listen to your mother! Don't go with some strangers!" Draculaura was sounding more sternly than ever. "Do you want to never see your mother and father again?"

  

Vaultor reached his arm out to Kumi. "Kumi! I'll pull you over!"

  

"Kumi! Come with me!"

  

"Grab my hand."

  

Kumi tried to block out the yelling between her mother & Vaultor. She didn't know who to choose to go with. If she went with her mother, then she will be a good girl. If she went with Vaultor, then she will escape the Fabricated World.

  

"KUMI!" Both yelled her name

  

She finally made her choice.

  

"VAULTOR!" She ran towards Vaultor and grabbed his hand.

  

"ALRIGHT!" He pulled her in and hugged her tightly as they left the Fabricated World.

  

--------

  

Kumi opened her eyes. She then realized that she was in the former gallery. She looked around, there were people walking around, enjoying Frankie Stein's artwork.

  

She couldn't remember what she was doing. So she looked around.

  

Kumi continued to look around until she arrived at the rose sculpture and saw a man that was familiar. Has she seen him from somewhere? She didn't know. Kumi decided to walk up to the man and tugged his coat.

  

"Hm?" He turned around.

  

"What is it, little lady?" He smiled

  

"Um, What is this statue?" Kumi asked

  

"Ah, this? It's called "Embodiment of Spirit" apparently"

  

He turned to look at the sculpture.

  

"When I look at it, I feel somehow sorrow...I wonder why. Ah, I'm sorry if I said anything to trouble you, Kumi"

  

Kumi's eye shot up.

  

"Wait, what? Who's Kumi?" He asked

  

"I'm Kumi, sir..." Kumi answered

  

"What? That's your name? Your name's really Kumi? That's the strangest thing, I mean, I don't know you at all...."

  

Kumi sighed

  

"It just kind of came out, how odd. But actually, have we perhaps met before?"

  

Kumi just stared

  

"Ah, look at me, asking you such strange things. Never mind what I said, Well. It was nice meeting you, goodbye." He smiled as he walked away.

  

Kumi just stared at him. She stared sadly as he slowly walked away but then noticed that he stopped

  

Vaultor walked away until he reached into his pocket and felt something.

  

"Hm? What's this" He pulled out a handkerchief.

  

"A handkerchief? When did I get this..."

  

Kumi heard him and walked up to him.

  

"Um sir, that is mine..." Kumi replied

  

"Ah, this is yours? Ah it's true. "Kumi"....your name's on it. But why was it in my pocket? Plus there's blood on it.

  

Vaultor then stopped and had a memory about it. He remembered some girl giving him her handkerchief.

  

"I was.....I was wounded, on the hand...and...a girl...a girl gave me her handkerchief..."

  

Kumi watched as he was trying to remember

  

"Yes..I was given this handkerchief. By the girl....by Kumi!"

  

Vaultor then pulled Kumi into his arms.

  

"Kumi...I remember now...We were together back there. How could I have forgotten, It was so important! We stuck together through that bizarre gallery, Chased by strange statues, and Francine too, right? Do you remember, Kumi?"

  

"Vaultor.....I...I..I don't remember!" Kumi cried

 

"Kumi...Remember that nightmare adventure we had?" Vaultor began to worry, but then, he remembered something.

 

"Kumi, Look into your pocket." He told her. Kumi looked inside her pocket and found something tiny.

 

It was a lemon flavor candy.

 

"Do you remember? I gave that candy to you." Kumi looked at the candy and then a flashback appeared in her mind.

 

She remembered a man giving her a candy, when she had a nightmare.

 

"....Vaultor....I do remember!" Kumi cried small tears of joy as she hugged Vaultor tightly.

  

"Thank goodness! It's hard to believe even now, but it must have happened, right?" Vaultor said

  

"Yes!" Kumi continued to cry joyfully as Vaultor wiped her tears away with his sleeve.

  

"Kumi, We got back safely! We did it! Ahaha." Vaultor smiled

  

"MmHm!" Kumi managed to smile while drying her tears.

  

"There's so much more I want to talk about. But I got to get going. Ah uh, Kumi?"

  

"Yes Vaultor?"

  

"Is it all right if I keep this handkerchief a while longer?" Vaultor held her handkerchief

  

"Hm?" Kumi tilted her head

  

"It wouldn't do to return it as it is, I'll have to make it clean, and then give it back." Vaultor smiled

  

"Alright, You can hold on to it and give it back once it's clean!" Kumi smiled with him

  

"Because we will see each other again!"

  

As Vaultor and Kumi walked off to whatever where they were suppose to go, they turned around and waved to each other smiling.

  

They knew they were going to see each other again. If it wasn't for the crazy painting world, then they would've never met, but now that the crazy adventure was over, they knew they will have so much to talk about over with some coffee & some macaroons.

  

THE END

  

--------

  

WAHHH! I FINISHED THE STORY! It was tough work but I'm glad I completed it before this Winter Break was over! Watching the game was very interesting and exciting so typing the story was very fun but very long too. But I did have fun typing the details of it down and introducing the other characters in it too! Thanks for reading everyone ^_^

   

(Word is a series of designs for books of the Bible. This is Word: Philippians. Find out more about Word.)

 

First off, thanks again to my Facebook peeps for their Philippians suggestions! There was an awesome suggestion for Philippians 3:8 where Paul uses the word "skubala," which is best translated as "sh*t." I gotta tell you, when you're designing your way through the Bible and you run into a passage that mentions "sh*t," it's very difficult to pass up. This morning... wait a second... time out....

 

Is anyone really less offended that I've used an asterisk in that word? I mean, you all know what word that is, right? Does one letter missing really make it less offensive? I don't know about you, but it seems a little silly to me. Plus, Paul used this word in the the Bible! So let's just be real. After all, you don't really visit my site for polite talk about the Bible, right? It's "shit." Paul used the word "shit" and that is what I'll use from here on out. So for those of you who haven't left the site, let's pick it back up. Where was I... oh yeah....

 

So this morning I started going with the "shit" direction, but I just couldn't figure out a way to make that work. I may have to "leftover" that passage though. In other words, I'll come back to that shit.

 

Now that we're done swearing, let's talk about God

 

In Philippians we find Paul encouraging people to think about good things. However, I don't think Paul's goal was to just make them feel happy. Rather, I think he wanted them to have a mood and mindset that makes them more receptive to to hearing and following God.

 

Are you gonna get all "Oprah" up in here?

 

I like Paul's idea of thinking about good stuff. It sorta sounds a little self-help-Oprahish, but there's a lot of truth in that. I know when I devote brain time to thinking about good stuff, I generally have a better attitude, I'm more thankful and I'm more focused on others. And that's good. So for this design, I decided to paraphrase Paul's words and list out some of the things that, in my opinion, contribute to me being in a mindset where I'm more likely to hear and follow God's word.

 

I'd like to quickly rattle through each of the things in the design and give you my incredibly subjective reasons why I love each of them. Ready? Go!

 

1. Cat – This is the internet, right? We gotta talk about cats! I love cats. Specifically I love my 2 cats, Tutti and Peppers. I'm amazed at how much joy I get from them.

2. Thumbs Up – I like to be positive as much as possible. Y'know, hope the best in all situations?

3. Suitcase – I don't fly halfway around the world very often, but just a day trip can be refreshing. I love seeing different things in different places.

4. Coffee – I don't mean the sissy sweet latte stuff. I'm talking straight up dark roast. No cream, no sugar.

5. Tshirt – I've never had a job where I need to wear a suit and I hope I never have to. What's more comfortable than a tshirt?

6. Movie Camera – Movies are awesome. I love getting lost in another world for a couple hours.

7. Wheat – This one represents farming, which represents my grandpa. My grandpa was an amazing guy who farmed his entire life. He was a great example of how "being a man" doesn't always mean being macho. It can mean being gentle, kind and humble.

8. Bird – If I could be any animal, I'd be a bird. They fly in the air. How cool is that?!

9. Baseball – If you think it's a boring game, you just don't get it.

10. Cross – Jesus is a pretty sweet dude. I've talked about him before.

11. Treble Clef – Music is a powerful thing. Like movies, I can get so caught up in music that it transports me into another world.

12. Computer – It's how I make my living and my art. Plus, did you know that you can see tons of funny cat pictures on a computer?

13. Minnesota – I complain about it in the winter, but I really do love Minnesota. Great music and arts scene and the change of seasons is beautiful.

14. Flower – I kinda like flowers, but this one really represents my wife, who loves flowers. She's the love of my life and makes me a better person. When I first asked her out, I called her from a pay phone at a gas station since I didn't have any minutes left on my cell phone for that month. (I was a real catch, huh?) I honestly don't know why she married me, but I sure am glad she did.

15. Popcorn – My addiction to the popcorn from Candyland has been well-documented. It makes all other popcorn taste like skubala.

16. Beer – Like with coffee, I don't mean sweet beer. And I don't mean downing a 12 pack of Bud Light either. I'm talking about a single craft beer. Preferably local.

17. Bonfire – Crisp evening, warm fire, close friends and a few marshmallows. Who doesn't love that?

18. iPhone – Remember when the internet wasn't in your pocket? Me neither.

 

That it! I'm sure Paul was thinking about things a bit more holy than popcorn and beer, but this is just my interpretation.

 

Like I mentioned, this is a very subjective list (which makes me think there won't be a high demand for prints of this one). Your list may have 18 completely different things than mine. Why not drop a few of yours in the comments below?

Oh boy, it's been a while since I've actually described my day here on flickr... Damn flu! Haha. Well, it's not terrible because I've lost eight pounds ^^ Only 12 more to go!

OH! And there's this thing on facebook where you tag your friends as smileys or whatever and "Dan" (almost typed his real name) tagged me as "most kissable" ^^ Yay! He thinks I'm kissable! Haha, so maybe I'm not totally out of the running.

But Moreno still wants me to text him -.- WHICH I AM NOT GOING TO DO! But that's a different story. Things are back to normal with me and my sister. She had to come and pick me up on Thursday after my mother lividly called the school to get me out of class. My health teacher would NOT let me out, and mom had a problem with that when I had the flu, haha. So yeah.

OH! OH! OH! I GOT THE NEW STILETTO MASCARA!!!! My karate instructor got it for me ^^ I love sensei. She's amazing, haha.

Oh, in karate after doing drills and such, I didn't feel so great, and I was kneeling on the floor after putting on hand gear (which is what we're supposed to do out of respect) and I was like, bracing myself against the floor with my knuckles, and "Jerry" was next to me. I apparently wasn't looking too good because he reached over and started to rub my back ^^ That was really sweet.

NO! NO! NO! NO! I CAN'T FALL FOR HIM! God, I can't. He's leaving for college soon... =/ I like "Dan"! Oh boy...

My friend wrote an amazing poem that I love called "4:07" It's nice.

Oh, guess who I bought that shirt for? "Bob". I'm going to wear it to school tomorrow because I never wore it for him like I intended to. *evil smile*

 

"Time, is going by, so much faster than I,

And I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you.

Now I'm, wondering why, I've kept this bottled inside,

So I'm starting to regret not telling all of it to you.

So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know...

 

You never gonna be alone!

From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go,

I won't let you fall...

Your never gonna be alone!

I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone.

 

And now, as long as I can, I'm holding on with both hands,

'Cause forever I believe that there's nothing I could need but you,

So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know...

 

You never gonna be alone!

From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go,

I won't let you fall.

When all hope is gone, I know that you can carry on.

We're gonna see the world on,

I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone.

 

Ooooh!

You've gotta live every single day,

Like it's the only one, what if tomorrow never comes?

Don't let it slip away,

Could be our only one, you know it's only just begun.

Every single day,

Maybe our only one, what if tomorrow never comes?

Tomorrow never comes..."

("Never Gonna Be Alone" by Nickelback) I was just listening to that and thought it was... good haha.

"Reflections"

 

Look at your face

When all I could see was myself looking back at me

Reflection

And all I could do was think about sleeping next to you

 

What would it take to make a women like you

View a wolf like me for what I really might be

Listening to the lyrics only here's what I allow

You gotta try and make me testify for here and right now

Lets have a confrontation over a cold one

I'll give you conversation just to see if you can hold em

I play so dumb

Because I know some of these star struck small talk art fucks is no fun

I'm the blood type that goes straight for the guns

Like before you even spoke already knew what your loves like

So what you thinking?

Because I'm thinking we should jump into your ocean

Let's go girl this ship is sinking

 

Look at your face

When all I could see was myself looking back at me

Reflection

And all I could do was think about sleeping next to you

Now there's no reason to lie, I've had a lot of lovers

In my reality its impossible to avoid it

But theres one reason for life gotta provide some supper

Gonna build a family just to watch some one destroy it

Do you really think you really wanna get to know me better

Don't you see the drama

Don't you feel the pressure

Don't get me wrong it would be my pleasure

To sing a song that could remove your shoes and your sweater

Bartender let me get a shot of bean

Cause this girl over here is trying to get me out my jeans

And she doesn't seem to believe I'm just another thief

Came to take a piece and make you stutter when you breath

 

Now girl you to smart to be a tour mark

 

Set to play correct from the start with your pure heart

And when your all alone ill sing into your phone

If you don't know the words you can make up your own

 

The first time she met the devil was at first avenue

Went back stage with him into the dressing room

Sexy ego trip

Taller than expected

About six foot three

Seemed to thrive on his misery

Critical observant big words

Sweaty hair sunken eyes and thick nerves

She said ill make em smile for the simple fact that he needs it

I'll make him smile just so I can kill it an eat it

 

You look like you were built for me

You talk like you want to steal my drink

You kiss like you already came

And that's a Lifter Puller line for those with out any game

 

It's like damn baby

You know you can't save me

But you should still tell your people that your leaving with the band

Maybe you can show me your hustle

Neither one of us would be so lonely

If only you would come over here and hold me

I caught you trying to hide your smile behind your glass

But all of your secrets become a swing set when you laugh

And all of your regrets that you're carrying a burying

Don't mean a damn thing if there's nobody to share them with

 

We've been following each other all night now

We ought to be all over each other like right now

I don't like crowds lets take flight now

Cause that face that you make

Reminds me of my life now

 

Look at your face

When all I could see was myself looking back at me

Reflection

And all I could do was think about sleeping next to you

 

"Only trying to find myself inside of you"

_________________

For a two volume ebook, a very pretty drug-addicted street prostitute allows her life to be documented by photographs and tape-recorded interviews for an entire year while she is working the streets of Atlanta. She does it for an ebook available from the usual websites. Here is Volume One on Amazon:

www.amazon.com/dp/B0755CS9ZJ/

Street Prostitute: A Streetwalker Tells Her Story While She’s Working the Streets

 

If you want to read what happens her first full day in the hospital, check out Volume One. You may read it in its entirety for free by clicking on "Look Inside this book."

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

 

I get out of the car and lean against the hood. If Ronda does keep me waiting, at least I can spend the time taking in the stirrings of spring. The jonquils are already in bloom...the redbuds will be bursting forth any day...the birds are beginning to sing...

 

"Mar—Mar—Mar—Marcie—"

 

Ronda is suddenly back. A sweater draped over one arm, she is stuttering her hooker friend Marcie's name.

 

Very emotionally, her voice breaking, she tells me Marcie had just admitted that she did indeed have the ring that Ronda thought she had stolen from her. And then, after Ronda told her she could keep it, Marcie had started to cry...

 

Ronda seems so moved by this, I'm thinking. Really and truly and genuinely moved...

 

Suddenly she grabs my shirt—just below my neck— twists it—hard —and jerks me toward her—

 

"Give me some money for a pill—or I'm gonna kill you!"

 

"WHAT!?" I'm shocked.

 

She releases my shirt. Her tone had been only half kidding.

 

"You're full of shit," I say. "What are you talking about? You know I'm not gonna do that."

 

"I'm getting strung out again, George. I discovered the other day I'm getting strung out again... Please. "

 

"I will not!" I declare.

 

"Pleeeeease!"

 

"I told you what the deal was before. And I'm not changing."

 

"Don't be on principle!"

 

"That's not—"

 

"Fuck principle!" She's almost shouting.

 

"That's not just principle."

 

"Principle sucks, man!"

 

I back up: "What do you mean...you're... What do you mean that you're stru— You said you discovered the other day that you're strung out again."

 

"I am, I'm strung out again. I know I am."

 

"All right, explain to me what that means... That you're strung out again."

 

She yells her answer—

 

"I—WANT—A—FUCKING—PILL!"

 

"Okay"—my voice is normal, or fairly normal—"but that doesn't mean strung out. I thought, basically, strung out, the way you've used the term strung out...was that you had to have it so damned much and you were doing it constantly— "

 

Ronda interrupts: "I have been doing it constantly—that's the problem."

 

"Well, Melvin said you've been averaging two a day. How many have you really been averaging?"

 

"Five or six. He don't know what I've been doing."

 

"Okay. You've been doing five or six a day?"

 

"I'll give you this watch."

 

"You've been averaging five or six a day for how long?"

 

"I don't know! "

 

She clenches her teeth in frustration.

 

"A week?" I push. "Two weeks? A month?"

 

No answer from Ronda.

 

"Two months?"

 

Still no answer.

 

Then: "Since my coat got stolen. At least. Before then. I don't wanna talk about it. Pleeease, George, what can I do?”

 

"You have been averaging five or six a day for...a month? And Melvin doesn't know that. Is that correct?"

 

"What have I got to do?" she asks—no, demands. "Have a goddamn—" She stops.

 

"Is that correct?"

 

"Yeah." [Sounding definitive.]

 

"Okay. Well, this is what I've been asking you for a long time, was to tell me the truth about the pills. So you're getting strung out? "

 

"I am strung out."

 

Now I raise my voice:

 

"But you're not getting strung out like you have been, Ronda! Because I know how you were."

 

"Well, lemmee..." She gives a frustrated little sigh. "You can have everything in my house," she offers. "You can have Melvin included. You can have me. "

 

I just look at her.

 

"I'll be your personal slave for a week," she says—and laughs. "You can say, 'Ronda...'"

 

"You're lying. You have not been doing five or six a day for that long."

 

"I have," she contends. Her brow furrows... "A hundred and fifty, two hundred...about three hundred dollars a day. That's six, right? Yeah."

 

"So where do you shoot up?" I ask, looking her hard in the eye.

 

"Here. At Rick's. They don't tell anybody. [Pauses.] What can I do?"

 

"So... So you're strung out again..."

 

"What can I do?" she interrupts, repeating her question more forcefully.

 

"Well, what do you usually do?"

 

A sound of exasperation is her response.

 

Then suddenly I'm wondering:

 

Did she mean something more by her question? Something more crucial? More hopeful?

 

So quickly I ask: "What can you do about what?"

 

"George," she answers," I will do anything..."

 

My hopes evaporate.

 

"...I swear to God I would."

 

"I'm not," I say, "in the business of supporting your habit. You understand? I don't like it!"

 

"I know... That's not..."

 

She stops in mid-sentence and for a minute she's quiet.

 

"I would do it for you," she says finally.

 

"And besides that," I remind her, "we had a deal. We had a deal. We had a deal."

 

Ronda snaps her fingers:

 

"Broke."

 

"What?"

 

Another quick snap of her fingers:

 

"Broke."

 

"What's broke?"

 

"The deal just got broke. Now. Look..."

 

"It did not," I counter. "Not on my side it didn't."

 

"It's not supporting my habit"—she softens her tone—"it's not that."

 

"Please," she adds in a sexy little voice.

 

"Ronda, we made a contract on this deal. And I work thirty or forty hours a week on it." I pause. "Look, just get...get in the car and we'll go to Popeye's and—"

 

"If you'll buy..."

 

"...you're not hurting that much!"

 

"If you'll buy me a pill, we'll have a four-hour interview!"

 

She laughs. She's obviously enjoying this new line of argument.

 

"You've just had your methadone..."I say again "...you're not—"

 

"Fuck the methadone! The man won't raise my goddamn dose— I'm tired of his bullshit. He takes it personal if I can't make it to counseling. It hurts his feelings..."

 

She lowers her voice: "I'd do anything; I swear to God I would. I'd kill somebody. If I had to. But I ain't got no way to kill somebody."

 

"You would kill somebody?"

 

"If I had a gun."

 

"If you had a gun, you would kill..."

 

She interrupts, speaking louder now: "No, if I had a gun, I'd take it to Rick and trade it for a pill."

 

"Okay, but otherwise," I continue, "if you couldn't trade it for a pill, would you kill somebody for one?"

 

"I'd rob somebody. [A pause.] There's gotta be something I could do."

 

"Well, you could turn a trick, right?"

 

My question is met by a long silence.

 

Finally I say very nicely—and hopefully, "I wish that we would just go...get something to eat...and do this interview. They've got to be done, Ronda! If this book is gonna come together."

 

"Uh...let's get it," Ronda says. "I promise, we'll sit...we'll sit for hours. Upon hours."

 

"I can see— I can see that you are...you must... You've got to be strung out again."

 

"We'll go to your office..."

 

"I really... I really could not tell it before..."

 

"We'll go to the office..."

 

"...because you haven't done this..."

 

"In a long time," she finishes for me.

 

"In a long time."

 

"We'll go to your office," she says again, "and we'll just sit there. Because the pill, you know, it'll hold me for...about four hours. I'll just sit there and talk, talk, talk. Four hours, I promise."

 

I level my eyes at her. "After all the work I've put into this book, I'd ditch it before I gave you the money for a pill right now."

 

"Please"—now she's sounding like a little girl—"I'll pay it back to you."

 

"Give it up, give it up. It's not like you're hurting... physically hurting."

 

"Yeah"—she places a finger on her chest. "Right here it is. Right here."

 

"But you just had your methadone!"

 

"Fuck that methadone."

 

There's a silence.

 

"How do you feel about getting strung out again? If you are."

 

"I—just—like—the—way—the—stuff—feels. Okay?"

 

She climbs up onto the hood of my car.

 

"If you've been doing five or six a day"—I address her up there—"that means you've been on the street a fair amount. Right?"

 

Quickly: "Not in front of the hotel! George, you know I get that check the first of the month—can't you go on that?"

 

"Ronda, I'm not available for this."

 

"Pleeease!" she implores. "I don't know nobody to ask. ... Don't fuck with me."

 

"Ronda, I'm not gonna do it. So if you need to get it, go ahead. I'm not gonna do it."

 

"Why?" She asks it like she truly wants to know.

 

"Do you want me to spell out the reasons?"

 

She nods that she does.

 

"Number one," I say calmly and seriously, "we had a deal. Which you agreed to. I'm sticking to my part of the deal. In what I will do and will not do. That's the main thing.

 

"Number two: I don't have that kind of money. I'm in debt myself right now. Number three: you're always able to talk folks into...getting your drugs for you."

 

"No, I'm not!"

 

"You're not able, " I say, "to talk me into it."

 

There's a long, frowning silence from Ronda, still perched on my hood.

 

"But I wish to God," I say, "that you'd...get into shape or whatever, because if you get totally strung out, the only time I'll be catching you will be a little bit on the street, and that's it."

 

She slides down off the hood. With great agitation, she walks to the rear of the car—then back to me...

 

"Jesus Christ! Fuck it. I've gotta go turn a date, George. I'm sorry, I can't—"

 

"I'm sorry too. Now when are we gonna do this interview?"

 

"We could've done it right now."

 

"All right. Are you—" I start to ask, "are you—"

 

Wheeling around, Ronda walks off.

 

I draw deeply on my cigarette. Across the street, an old woman is sweeping the sidewalk in front of her house. As I'm watching her, I hear the slamming of my car door, and turning, I see that Ronda has climbed into the car and is pulling her shirt off over her head. I look quickly away. Through the windshield, I'd caught only a brief glimpse of her small but pretty breasts. I watch the old woman sweeping until I hear the car door shut again.

 

Now wearing the sweater she'd brought out from Rick's, Ronda is standing by the door, her eyes on me.

 

"I appreciate the, uh...I appreciate that," she says. Her tone is sincere. "You know?"

 

"What?"

 

"The, um...respect you just showed by not watching. I appreciate that."

 

"Well," I reply, "I would appreciate it if we can—even if you get strung out—if we can continue on this book without you making—"

 

She interrupts: "Where are you gonna be? At your office?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"After I get my dope," she says, "I'll come see you."

 

"You'll what?"

 

"I'll get a trick to bring me over there."

 

For a few seconds she just stands there.

 

"You don't want to loan me just ten dollars if I lay something on it?"

 

I shake my head.

 

"I've got to go straight broke, right?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Okay. Fuck you."

 

This she had said without raising her voice. But she sounds, for the first time today, truly angry.

 

She starts walking away.

 

I say to her back: "Are you saying you're coming over there?"

 

She stops; she turns and faces me:

 

"I'll be over there. I don't know why. Because I'm mad at you. I'm real mad at you, but I'll still come over."

 

"Okay."

 

Again she starts toward Ponce de Leon, then speaks over her shoulder:

 

"I'm coming because we're friends. You know what I mean?"

  

--------

A little hopeful, I wait at my office.

 

She never comes.

 

_________________

For a two volume ebook, a very pretty drug-addicted street prostitute allows her life to be documented by photographs and tape-recorded interviews for an entire year while she is working the streets of Atlanta. She does it for an ebook available from the usual websites. Here’s is Volume One on Amazon:

www.amazon.com/dp/B0755CS9ZJ/

Street Prostitute: A Streetwalker Tells Her Story While She’s Working the Streets

I feel like I'm up against a wall.

 

I've gotta turn the focus around.

 

It's time to disconnect.

 

I gotta get lost for a while on my own.

 

Look inside myself and my soul.

 

Nourish it.

 

Escape from the background noise.

 

Unclutter my mind and focus on the path.

 

Something's been calling me...

 

and I can't figure it out.

 

I can't hear it and I need to.

 

I don't know if it's an idea or a thing...

 

a philosophy or some change...

 

but I need to find myself in the quiet...

 

and listen to that voice.

 

These dreams that I've been having are powerful messages.

 

I need to figure out what they mean.

 

I visualize my self as a caterpillar spinning a cocoon.

 

The understanding of what it is that I am seeking will emerge from that cocoon with me.

 

Of this I am certain.

 

I'll see you on the other side of this wall.

 

A couple of weeks might do it.

 

Time and space will tell.

 

We're all on the same journey.

 

Love and light.

 

Farewell for Now

   

According to all known laws

of aviation,

  

there is no way a bee

should be able to fly.

  

Its wings are too small to get

its fat little body off the ground.

  

The bee, of course, flies anyway

  

because bees don't care

what humans think is impossible.

  

Yellow, black. Yellow, black.

Yellow, black. Yellow, black.

  

Ooh, black and yellow!

Let's shake it up a little.

  

Barry! Breakfast is ready!

  

Ooming!

  

Hang on a second.

  

Hello?

  

- Barry?

- Adam?

  

- Oan you believe this is happening?

- I can't. I'll pick you up.

  

Looking sharp.

  

Use the stairs. Your father

paid good money for those.

  

Sorry. I'm excited.

  

Here's the graduate.

We're very proud of you, son.

  

A perfect report card, all B's.

  

Very proud.

  

Ma! I got a thing going here.

  

- You got lint on your fuzz.

- Ow! That's me!

  

- Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.

- Bye!

  

Barry, I told you,

stop flying in the house!

  

- Hey, Adam.

- Hey, Barry.

  

- Is that fuzz gel?

- A little. Special day, graduation.

  

Never thought I'd make it.

  

Three days grade school,

three days high school.

  

Those were awkward.

  

Three days college. I'm glad I took

a day and hitchhiked around the hive.

  

You did come back different.

  

- Hi, Barry.

- Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.

  

- Hear about Frankie?

- Yeah.

  

- You going to the funeral?

- No, I'm not going.

  

Everybody knows,

sting someone, you die.

  

Don't waste it on a squirrel.

Such a hothead.

  

I guess he could have

just gotten out of the way.

  

I love this incorporating

an amusement park into our day.

  

That's why we don't need vacations.

  

Boy, quite a bit of pomp...

under the circumstances.

  

- Well, Adam, today we are men.

- We are!

  

- Bee-men.

- Amen!

  

Hallelujah!

  

Students, faculty, distinguished bees,

  

please welcome Dean Buzzwell.

  

Welcome, New Hive Oity

graduating class of...

  

...9:15.

  

That concludes our ceremonies.

  

And begins your career

at Honex Industries!

  

Will we pick ourjob today?

  

I heard it's just orientation.

  

Heads up! Here we go.

  

Keep your hands and antennas

inside the tram at all times.

  

- Wonder what it'll be like?

- A little scary.

  

Welcome to Honex,

a division of Honesco

  

and a part of the Hexagon Group.

  

This is it!

  

Wow.

  

Wow.

  

We know that you, as a bee,

have worked your whole life

  

to get to the point where you

can work for your whole life.

  

Honey begins when our valiant Pollen

Jocks bring the nectar to the hive.

  

Our top-secret formula

  

is automatically color-corrected,

scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured

  

into this soothing sweet syrup

  

with its distinctive

golden glow you know as...

  

Honey!

  

- That girl was hot.

- She's my cousin!

  

- She is?

- Yes, we're all cousins.

  

- Right. You're right.

- At Honex, we constantly strive

  

to improve every aspect

of bee existence.

  

These bees are stress-testing

a new helmet technology.

  

- What do you think he makes?

- Not enough.

  

Here we have our latest advancement,

the Krelman.

  

- What does that do?

- Oatches that little strand of honey

  

that hangs after you pour it.

Saves us millions.

  

Oan anyone work on the Krelman?

  

Of course. Most bee jobs are

small ones. But bees know

  

that every small job,

if it's done well, means a lot.

  

But choose carefully

  

because you'll stay in the job

you pick for the rest of your life.

  

The same job the rest of your life?

I didn't know that.

  

What's the difference?

  

You'll be happy to know that bees,

as a species, haven't had one day off

  

in 27 million years.

  

So you'll just work us to death?

  

We'll sure try.

  

Wow! That blew my mind!

  

"What's the difference?"

How can you say that?

  

One job forever?

That's an insane choice to have to make.

  

I'm relieved. Now we only have

to make one decision in life.

  

But, Adam, how could they

never have told us that?

  

Why would you question anything?

We're bees.

  

We're the most perfectly

functioning society on Earth.

  

You ever think maybe things

work a little too well here?

  

Like what? Give me one example.

  

I don't know. But you know

what I'm talking about.

  

Please clear the gate.

Royal Nectar Force on approach.

  

Wait a second. Oheck it out.

  

- Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!

- Wow.

  

I've never seen them this close.

  

They know what it's like

outside the hive.

  

Yeah, but some don't come back.

  

- Hey, Jocks!

- Hi, Jocks!

  

You guys did great!

  

You're monsters!

You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!

  

- I wonder where they were.

- I don't know.

  

Their day's not planned.

  

Outside the hive, flying who knows

where, doing who knows what.

  

You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen

Jock. You have to be bred for that.

  

Right.

  

Look. That's more pollen

than you and I will see in a lifetime.

  

It's just a status symbol.

Bees make too much of it.

  

Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it

and the ladies see you wearing it.

  

Those ladies?

Aren't they our cousins too?

  

Distant. Distant.

  

Look at these two.

  

- Oouple of Hive Harrys.

- Let's have fun with them.

  

It must be dangerous

being a Pollen Jock.

  

Yeah. Once a bear pinned me

against a mushroom!

  

He had a paw on my throat,

and with the other, he was slapping me!

  

- Oh, my!

- I never thought I'd knock him out.

  

What were you doing during this?

  

Trying to alert the authorities.

  

I can autograph that.

  

A little gusty out there today,

wasn't it, comrades?

  

Yeah. Gusty.

  

We're hitting a sunflower patch

six miles from here tomorrow.

  

- Six miles, huh?

- Barry!

  

A puddle jump for us,

but maybe you're not up for it.

  

- Maybe I am.

- You are not!

  

We're going 0900 at J-Gate.

  

What do you think, buzzy-boy?

Are you bee enough?

  

I might be. It all depends

on what 0900 means.

  

Hey, Honex!

  

Dad, you surprised me.

  

You decide what you're interested in?

  

- Well, there's a lot of choices.

- But you only get one.

  

Do you ever get bored

doing the same job every day?

  

Son, let me tell you about stirring.

  

You grab that stick, and you just

move it around, and you stir it around.

  

You get yourself into a rhythm.

It's a beautiful thing.

  

You know, Dad,

the more I think about it,

  

maybe the honey field

just isn't right for me.

  

You were thinking of what,

making balloon animals?

  

That's a bad job

for a guy with a stinger.

  

Janet, your son's not sure

he wants to go into honey!

  

- Barry, you are so funny sometimes.

- I'm not trying to be funny.

  

You're not funny! You're going

into honey. Our son, the stirrer!

  

- You're gonna be a stirrer?

- No one's listening to me!

  

Wait till you see the sticks I have.

  

I could say anything right now.

I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!

  

Let's open some honey and celebrate!

  

Maybe I'll pierce my thorax.

Shave my antennae.

  

Shack up with a grasshopper. Get

a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!

  

I'm so proud.

  

- We're starting work today!

- Today's the day.

  

Oome on! All the good jobs

will be gone.

  

Yeah, right.

  

Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring,

stirrer, front desk, hair removal...

  

- Is it still available?

- Hang on. Two left!

  

One of them's yours! Oongratulations!

Step to the side.

  

- What'd you get?

- Picking crud out. Stellar!

  

Wow!

  

Oouple of newbies?

  

Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!

  

Make your choice.

  

- You want to go first?

- No, you go.

  

Oh, my. What's available?

  

Restroom attendant's open,

not for the reason you think.

  

- Any chance of getting the Krelman?

- Sure, you're on.

  

I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.

  

Wax monkey's always open.

  

The Krelman opened up again.

  

What happened?

  

A bee died. Makes an opening. See?

He's dead. Another dead one.

  

Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.

  

Dead from the neck up.

Dead from the neck down. That's life!

  

Oh, this is so hard!

  

Heating, cooling,

stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,

  

humming, inspector number seven,

lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,

  

mite wrangler. Barry, what

do you think I should... Barry?

  

Barry!

  

All right, we've got the sunflower patch

in quadrant nine...

  

What happened to you?

Where are you?

  

- I'm going out.

- Out? Out where?

  

- Out there.

- Oh, no!

  

I have to, before I go

to work for the rest of my life.

  

You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?

  

Another call coming in.

  

If anyone's feeling brave,

there's a Korean deli on 83rd

  

that gets their roses today.

  

Hey, guys.

  

- Look at that.

- Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?

  

Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.

  

It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.

  

Really? Feeling lucky, are you?

  

Sign here, here. Just initial that.

  

- Thank you.

- OK.

  

You got a rain advisory today,

  

and as you all know,

bees cannot fly in rain.

  

So be careful. As always,

watch your brooms,

  

hockey sticks, dogs,

birds, bears and bats.

  

Also, I got a couple of reports

of root beer being poured on us.

  

Murphy's in a home because of it,

babbling like a cicada!

  

- That's awful.

- And a reminder for you rookies,

  

bee law number one,

absolutely no talking to humans!

  

All right, launch positions!

  

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz,

buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!

  

Black and yellow!

  

Hello!

  

You ready for this, hot shot?

  

Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.

  

Wind, check.

  

- Antennae, check.

- Nectar pack, check.

  

- Wings, check.

- Stinger, check.

  

Scared out of my shorts, check.

  

OK, ladies,

  

let's move it out!

  

Pound those petunias,

you striped stem-suckers!

  

All of you, drain those flowers!

  

Wow! I'm out!

  

I can't believe I'm out!

  

So blue.

  

I feel so fast and free!

  

Box kite!

  

Wow!

  

Flowers!

  

This is Blue Leader.

We have roses visual.

  

Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.

  

Roses!

  

30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.

  

Stand to the side, kid.

It's got a bit of a kick.

  

That is one nectar collector!

  

- Ever see pollination up close?

- No, sir.

  

I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it

over here. Maybe a dash over there,

  

a pinch on that one.

See that? It's a little bit of magic.

  

That's amazing. Why do we do that?

  

That's pollen power. More pollen, more

flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.

  

Oool.

  

I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow.

Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?

  

Oopy that visual.

  

Wait. One of these flowers

seems to be on the move.

  

Say again? You're reporting

a moving flower?

  

Affirmative.

  

That was on the line!

  

This is the coolest. What is it?

  

I don't know, but I'm loving this color.

  

It smells good.

Not like a flower, but I like it.

  

Yeah, fuzzy.

  

Ohemical-y.

  

Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.

  

My sweet lord of bees!

  

Oandy-brain, get off there!

  

Problem!

  

- Guys!

- This could be bad.

  

Affirmative.

  

Very close.

  

Gonna hurt.

  

Mama's little boy.

  

You are way out of position, rookie!

  

Ooming in at you like a missile!

  

Help me!

  

I don't think these are flowers.

  

- Should we tell him?

- I think he knows.

  

What is this?!

  

Match point!

  

You can start packing up, honey,

because you're about to eat it!

  

Yowser!

  

Gross.

  

There's a bee in the car!

  

- Do something!

- I'm driving!

  

- Hi, bee.

- He's back here!

  

He's going to sting me!

  

Nobody move. If you don't move,

he won't sting you. Freeze!

  

He blinked!

  

Spray him, Granny!

  

What are you doing?!

  

Wow... the tension level

out here is unbelievable.

  

I gotta get home.

  

Oan't fly in rain.

  

Oan't fly in rain.

  

Oan't fly in rain.

  

Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!

  

Ken, could you close

the window please?

  

Ken, could you close

the window please?

  

Oheck out my new resume.

I made it into a fold-out brochure.

  

You see? Folds out.

  

Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.

  

What was that?

  

Maybe this time. This time. This time.

This time! This time! This...

  

Drapes!

  

That is diabolical.

  

It's fantastic. It's got all my special

skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.

  

What's number one? Star Wars?

  

Nah, I don't go for that...

  

...kind of stuff.

  

No wonder we shouldn't talk to them.

They're out of their minds.

  

When I leave a job interview, they're

flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.

  

There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.

  

I don't remember the sun

having a big 75 on it.

  

I predicted global warming.

  

I could feel it getting hotter.

At first I thought it was just me.

  

Wait! Stop! Bee!

  

Stand back. These are winter boots.

  

Wait!

  

Don't kill him!

  

You know I'm allergic to them!

This thing could kill me!

  

Why does his life have

less value than yours?

  

Why does his life have any less value

than mine? Is that your statement?

  

I'm just saying all life has value. You

don't know what he's capable of feeling.

  

My brochure!

  

There you go, little guy.

  

I'm not scared of him.

It's an allergic thing.

  

Put that on your resume brochure.

  

My whole face could puff up.

  

Make it one of your special skills.

  

Knocking someone out

is also a special skill.

  

Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.

  

- Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night?

- Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.

  

- You could put carob chips on there.

- Bye.

  

- Supposed to be less calories.

- Bye.

  

I gotta say something.

  

She saved my life.

I gotta say something.

  

All right, here it goes.

  

Nah.

  

What would I say?

  

I could really get in trouble.

  

It's a bee law.

You're not supposed to talk to a human.

  

I can't believe I'm doing this.

  

I've got to.

  

Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!

  

No. Yes. No.

  

Do it. I can't.

  

How should I start it?

"You like jazz?" No, that's no good.

  

Here she comes! Speak, you fool!

  

Hi!

  

I'm sorry.

  

- You're talking.

- Yes, I know.

  

You're talking!

  

I'm so sorry.

  

No, it's OK. It's fine.

I know I'm dreaming.

  

But I don't recall going to bed.

  

Well, I'm sure this

is very disconcerting.

  

This is a bit of a surprise to me.

I mean, you're a bee!

  

I am. And I'm not supposed

to be doing this,

  

but they were all trying to kill me.

  

And if it wasn't for you...

  

I had to thank you.

It's just how I was raised.

  

That was a little weird.

  

- I'm talking with a bee.

- Yeah.

  

I'm talking to a bee.

And the bee is talking to me!

  

I just want to say I'm grateful.

I'll leave now.

  

- Wait! How did you learn to do that?

- What?

  

The talking thing.

  

Same way you did, I guess.

"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.

  

- That's very funny.

- Yeah.

  

Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh,

we'd cry with what we have to deal with.

  

Anyway...

  

Oan I...

  

...get you something?

- Like what?

  

I don't know. I mean...

I don't know. Ooffee?

  

I don't want to put you out.

  

It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.

  

- It's just coffee.

- I hate to impose.

  

- Don't be ridiculous!

- Actually, I would love a cup.

  

Hey, you want rum cake?

  

- I shouldn't.

- Have some.

  

- No, I can't.

- Oome on!

  

I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.

  

- Where?

- These stripes don't help.

  

You look great!

  

I don't know if you know

anything about fashion.

  

Are you all right?

  

No.

  

He's making the tie in the cab

as they're flying up Madison.

  

He finally gets there.

  

He runs up the steps into the church.

The wedding is on.

  

And he says, "Watermelon?

I thought you said Guatemalan.

  

Why would I marry a watermelon?"

  

Is that a bee joke?

  

That's the kind of stuff we do.

  

Yeah, different.

  

So, what are you gonna do, Barry?

  

About work? I don't know.

  

I want to do my part for the hive,

but I can't do it the way they want.

  

I know how you feel.

  

- You do?

- Sure.

  

My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or

a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.

  

- Really?

- My only interest is flowers.

  

Our new queen was just elected

with that same campaign slogan.

  

Anyway, if you look...

  

There's my hive right there. See it?

  

You're in Sheep Meadow!

  

Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!

  

No way! I know that area.

I lost a toe ring there once.

  

- Why do girls put rings on their toes?

- Why not?

  

- It's like putting a hat on your knee.

- Maybe I'll try that.

  

- You all right, ma'am?

- Oh, yeah. Fine.

  

Just having two cups of coffee!

  

Anyway, this has been great.

Thanks for the coffee.

  

Yeah, it's no trouble.

  

Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did,

I'd be up the rest of my life.

  

Are you...?

  

Oan I take a piece of this with me?

  

Sure! Here, have a crumb.

  

- Thanks!

- Yeah.

  

All right. Well, then...

I guess I'll see you around.

  

Or not.

  

OK, Barry.

  

And thank you

so much again... for before.

  

Oh, that? That was nothing.

  

Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...

  

This can't possibly work.

  

He's all set to go.

We may as well try it.

  

OK, Dave, pull the chute.

  

- Sounds amazing.

- It was amazing!

  

It was the scariest,

happiest moment of my life.

  

Humans! I can't believe

you were with humans!

  

Giant, scary humans!

What were they like?

  

Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.

  

They eat crazy giant things.

They drive crazy.

  

- Do they try and kill you, like on TV?

- Some of them. But some of them don't.

  

- How'd you get back?

- Poodle.

  

You did it, and I'm glad. You saw

whatever you wanted to see.

  

You had your "experience." Now you

can pick out yourjob and be normal.

  

- Well...

- Well?

  

Well, I met someone.

  

You did? Was she Bee-ish?

  

- A wasp?! Your parents will kill you!

- No, no, no, not a wasp.

  

- Spider?

- I'm not attracted to spiders.

  

I know it's the hottest thing,

with the eight legs and all.

  

I can't get by that face.

  

So who is she?

  

She's... human.

  

No, no. That's a bee law.

You wouldn't break a bee law.

  

- Her name's Vanessa.

- Oh, boy.

  

She's so nice. And she's a florist!

  

Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!

  

We're not dating.

  

You're flying outside the hive, talking

to humans that attack our homes

  

with power washers and M-80s!

One-eighth a stick of dynamite!

  

She saved my life!

And she understands me.

  

This is over!

  

Eat this.

  

This is not over! What was that?

  

- They call it a crumb.

- It was so stingin' stripey!

  

And that's not what they eat.

That's what falls off what they eat!

  

- You know what a Oinnabon is?

- No.

  

It's bread and cinnamon and frosting.

They heat it up...

  

Sit down!

  

...really hot!

- Listen to me!

  

We are not them! We're us.

There's us and there's them!

  

Yes, but who can deny

the heart that is yearning?

  

There's no yearning.

Stop yearning. Listen to me!

  

You have got to start thinking bee,

my friend. Thinking bee!

  

- Thinking bee.

- Thinking bee.

  

Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  

There he is. He's in the pool.

  

You know what your problem is, Barry?

  

I gotta start thinking bee?

  

How much longer will this go on?

  

It's been three days!

Why aren't you working?

  

I've got a lot of big life decisions

to think about.

  

What life? You have no life!

You have no job. You're barely a bee!

  

Would it kill you

to make a little honey?

  

Barry, come out.

Your father's talking to you.

  

Martin, would you talk to him?

  

Barry, I'm talking to you!

  

You coming?

  

Got everything?

  

All set!

  

Go ahead. I'll catch up.

  

Don't be too long.

  

Watch this!

  

Vanessa!

  

- We're still here.

- I told you not to yell at him.

  

He doesn't respond to yelling!

  

- Then why yell at me?

- Because you don't listen!

  

I'm not listening to this.

  

Sorry, I've gotta go.

  

- Where are you going?

- I'm meeting a friend.

  

A girl? Is this why you can't decide?

  

Bye.

  

I just hope she's Bee-ish.

  

They have a huge parade

of flowers every year in Pasadena?

  

To be in the Tournament of Roses,

that's every florist's dream!

  

Up on a float, surrounded

by flowers, crowds cheering.

  

A tournament. Do the roses

compete in athletic events?

  

No. All right, I've got one.

How come you don't fly everywhere?

  

It's exhausting. Why don't you

run everywhere? It's faster.

  

Yeah, OK, I see, I see.

All right, your turn.

  

TiVo. You can just freeze live TV?

That's insane!

  

You don't have that?

  

We have Hivo, but it's a disease.

It's a horrible, horrible disease.

  

Oh, my.

  

Dumb bees!

  

You must want to sting all those jerks.

  

We try not to sting.

It's usually fatal for us.

  

So you have to watch your temper.

  

Very carefully.

You kick a wall, take a walk,

  

write an angry letter and throw it out.

Work through it like any emotion:

  

Anger, jealousy, lust.

  

Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?

  

Yeah.

  

- What is wrong with you?!

- It's a bug.

  

He's not bothering anybody.

Get out of here, you creep!

  

What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?

  

Yeah, it was. How did you know?

  

It felt like about 10 pages.

Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.

  

You've really got that

down to a science.

  

- I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.

- I'll bet.

  

What in the name

of Mighty Hercules is this?

  

How did this get here?

Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,

  

Ray Liotta Private Select?

  

- Is he that actor?

- I never heard of him.

  

- Why is this here?

- For people. We eat it.

  

You don't have

enough food of your own?

  

- Well, yes.

- How do you get it?

  

- Bees make it.

- I know who makes it!

  

And it's hard to make it!

  

There's heating, cooling, stirring.

You need a whole Krelman thing!

  

- It's organic.

- It's our-ganic!

  

It's just honey, Barry.

  

Just what?!

  

Bees don't know about this!

This is stealing! A lot of stealing!

  

You've taken our homes, schools,

hospitals! This is all we have!

  

And it's on sale?!

I'm getting to the bottom of this.

  

I'm getting to the bottom

of all of this!

  

Hey, Hector.

  

- You almost done?

- Almost.

  

He is here. I sense it.

  

Well, I guess I'll go home now

  

and just leave this nice honey out,

with no one around.

  

You're busted, box boy!

  

I knew I heard something.

So you can talk!

  

I can talk.

And now you'll start talking!

  

Where you getting the sweet stuff?

Who's your supplier?

  

I don't understand.

I thought we were friends.

  

The last thing we want

to do is upset bees!

  

You're too late! It's ours now!

  

You, sir, have crossed

the wrong sword!

  

You, sir, will be lunch

for my iguana, Ignacio!

  

Where is the honey coming from?

  

Tell me where!

  

Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!

  

Orazy person!

  

What horrible thing has happened here?

  

These faces, they never knew

what hit them. And now

  

they're on the road to nowhere!

  

Just keep still.

  

What? You're not dead?

  

Do I look dead? They will wipe anything

that moves. Where you headed?

  

To Honey Farms.

I am onto something huge here.

  

I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood,

crazy stuff. Blows your head off!

  

I'm going to Tacoma.

  

- And you?

- He really is dead.

  

All right.

  

Uh-oh!

  

- What is that?!

- Oh, no!

  

- A wiper! Triple blade!

- Triple blade?

  

Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!

  

Why does everything have

to be so doggone clean?!

  

How much do you people need to see?!

  

Open your eyes!

Stick your head out the window!

  

From NPR News in Washington,

I'm Oarl Kasell.

  

But don't kill no more bugs!

  

- Bee!

- Moose blood guy!!

  

- You hear something?

- Like what?

  

Like tiny screaming.

  

Turn off the radio.

  

Whassup, bee boy?

  

Hey, Blood.

  

Just a row of honey jars,

as far as the eye could see.

  

Wow!

  

I assume wherever this truck goes

is where they're getting it.

  

I mean, that honey's ours.

  

- Bees hang tight.

- We're all jammed in.

  

It's a close community.

  

Not us, man. We on our own.

Every mosquito on his own.

  

- What if you get in trouble?

- You a mosquito, you in trouble.

  

Nobody likes us. They just smack.

See a mosquito, smack, smack!

  

At least you're out in the world.

You must meet girls.

  

Mosquito girls try to trade up,

get with a moth, dragonfly.

  

Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.

  

You got to be kidding me!

  

Mooseblood's about to leave

the building! So long, bee!

  

- Hey, guys!

- Mooseblood!

  

I knew I'd catch y'all down here.

Did you bring your crazy straw?

  

We throw it in jars, slap a label on it,

and it's pretty much pure profit.

  

What is this place?

  

A bee's got a brain

the size of a pinhead.

  

They are pinheads!

  

Pinhead.

  

- Oheck out the new smoker.

- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.

  

The Thomas 3000!

  

Smoker?

  

Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic.

Twice the nicotine, all the tar.

  

A couple breaths of this

knocks them right out.

  

They make the honey,

and we make the money.

  

"They make the honey,

and we make the money"?

  

Oh, my!

  

What's going on? Are you OK?

  

Yeah. It doesn't last too long.

  

Do you know you're

in a fake hive with fake walls?

  

Our queen was moved here.

We had no choice.

  

This is your queen?

That's a man in women's clothes!

  

That's a drag queen!

  

What is this?

  

Oh, no!

  

There's hundreds of them!

  

Bee honey.

  

Our honey is being brazenly stolen

on a massive scale!

  

This is worse than anything bears

have done! I intend to do something.

  

Oh, Barry, stop.

  

Who told you humans are taking

our honey? That's a rumor.

  

Do these look like rumors?

  

That's a conspiracy theory.

These are obviously doctored photos.

  

How did you get mixed up in this?

  

He's been talking to humans.

  

- What?

- Talking to humans?!

  

He has a human girlfriend.

And they make out!

  

Make out? Barry!

  

We do not.

  

- You wish you could.

- Whose side are you on?

  

The bees!

  

I dated a cricket once in San Antonio.

Those crazy legs kept me up all night.

  

Barry, this is what you want

to do with your life?

  

I want to do it for all our lives.

Nobody works harder than bees!

  

Dad, I remember you

coming home so overworked

  

your hands were still stirring.

You couldn't stop.

  

I remember that.

  

What right do they have to our honey?

  

We live on two cups a year. They put it

in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!

  

Even if it's true, what can one bee do?

  

Sting them where it really hurts.

  

In the face! The eye!

  

- That would hurt.

- No.

  

Up the nose? That's a killer.

  

There's only one place you can sting

the humans, one place where it matters.

  

Hive at Five, the hive's only

full-hour action news source.

  

No more bee beards!

  

With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.

  

Weather with Storm Stinger.

  

Sports with Buzz Larvi.

  

And Jeanette Ohung.

  

- Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble.

- And I'm Jeanette Ohung.

  

A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,

  

intends to sue the human race

for stealing our honey,

  

packaging it and profiting

from it illegally!

  

Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,

  

we'll have three former queens here in

our studio, discussing their new book,

  

Olassy Ladies,

out this week on Hexagon.

  

Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.

  

Did you ever think, "I'm a kid

from the hive. I can't do this"?

  

Bees have never been afraid

to change the world.

  

What about Bee Oolumbus?

Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?

  

Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.

  

We were thinking

of stickball or candy stores.

  

How old are you?

  

The bee community

is supporting you in this case,

  

which will be the trial

of the bee century.

  

You know, they have a Larry King

in the human world too.

  

It's a common name. Next week...

  

He looks like you and has a show

and suspenders and colored dots...

  

Next week...

  

Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the

guest even though you just heard 'em.

  

Bear Week next week!

They're scary, hairy and here live.

  

Always leans forward, pointy shoulders,

squinty eyes, very Jewish.

  

In tennis, you attack

at the point of weakness!

  

It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.

  

Honey, her backhand's a joke!

I'm not gonna take advantage of that?

  

Quiet, please.

Actual work going on here.

  

- Is that that same bee?

- Yes, it is!

  

I'm helping him sue the human race.

  

- Hello.

- Hello, bee.

  

This is Ken.

  

Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size

ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.

  

Why does he talk again?

  

Listen, you better go

'cause we're really busy working.

  

But it's our yogurt night!

  

Bye-bye.

  

Why is yogurt night so difficult?!

  

You poor thing.

You two have been at this for hours!

  

Yes, and Adam here

has been a huge help.

  

- Frosting...

- How many sugars?

  

Just one. I try not

to use the competition.

  

So why are you helping me?

  

Bees have good qualities.

  

And it takes my mind off the shop.

  

Instead of flowers, people

are giving balloon bouquets now.

  

Those are great, if you're three.

  

And artificial flowers.

  

- Oh, those just get me psychotic!

- Yeah, me too.

  

Bent stingers, pointless pollination.

  

Bees must hate those fake things!

  

Nothing worse

than a daffodil that's had work done.

  

Maybe this could make up

for it a little bit.

  

- This lawsuit's a pretty big deal.

- I guess.

  

You sure you want to go through with it?

  

Am I sure? When I'm done with

the humans, they won't be able

  

to say, "Honey, I'm home,"

without paying a royalty!

  

It's an incredible scene

here in downtown Manhattan,

  

where the world anxiously waits,

because for the first time in history,

  

we will hear for ourselves

if a honeybee can actually speak.

  

What have we gotten into here, Barry?

  

It's pretty big, isn't it?

  

I can't believe how many humans

don't work during the day.

  

You think billion-dollar multinational

food companies have good lawyers?

  

Everybody needs to stay

behind the barricade.

  

- What's the matter?

- I don't know, I just got a chill.

  

Well, if it isn't the bee team.

  

You boys work on this?

  

All rise! The Honorable

Judge Bumbleton presiding.

  

All right. Oase number 4475,

  

Superior Oourt of New York,

Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry

  

is now in session.

  

Mr. Montgomery, you're representing

the five food companies collectively?

  

A privilege.

  

Mr. Benson... you're representing

all the bees of the world?

  

I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor,

we're ready to proceed.

  

Mr. Montgomery,

your opening statement, please.

  

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

  

my grandmother was a simple woman.

  

Born on a farm, she believed

it was man's divine right

  

to benefit from the bounty

of nature God put before us.

  

If we lived in the topsy-turvy world

Mr. Benson imagines,

  

just think of what would it mean.

  

I would have to negotiate

with the silkworm

  

for the elastic in my britches!

  

Talking bee!

  

How do we know this isn't some sort of

  

holographic motion-picture-capture

Hollywood wizardry?

  

They could be using laser beams!

  

Robotics! Ventriloquism!

Oloning! For all we know,

  

he could be on steroids!

  

Mr. Benson?

  

Ladies and gentlemen,

there's no trickery here.

  

I'm just an ordinary bee.

Honey's pretty important to me.

  

It's important to all bees.

We invented it!

  

We make it. And we protect it

with our lives.

  

Unfortunately, there are

some people in this room

  

who think they can take it from us

  

'cause we're the little guys!

I'm hoping that, after this is all over,

  

you'll see how, by taking our honey,

you not only take everything we have

  

but everything we are!

  

I wish he'd dress like that

all the time. So nice!

  

Oall your first witness.

  

So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden

of Honey Farms, big company you have.

  

I suppose so.

  

I see you also own

Honeyburton and Honron!

  

Yes, they provide beekeepers

for our farms.

  

Beekeeper. I find that

to be a very disturbing term.

  

I don't imagine you employ

any bee-free-ers, do you?

  

- No.

- I couldn't hear you.

  

- No.

- No.

  

Because you don't free bees.

You keep bees. Not only that,

  

it seems you thought a bear would be

an appropriate image for a jar of honey.

  

They're very lovable creatures.

  

Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.

  

You mean like this?

  

Bears kill bees!

  

How'd you like his head crashing

through your living room?!

  

Biting into your couch!

Spitting out your throw pillows!

  

OK, that's enough. Take him away.

  

So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here.

Your name intrigues me.

  

- Where have I heard it before?

- I was with a band called The Police.

  

But you've never been

a police officer, have you?

  

No, I haven't.

  

No, you haven't. And so here

we have yet another example

  

of bee culture casually

stolen by a human

  

for nothing more than

a prance-about stage name.

  

Oh, please.

  

Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?

  

Because I'm feeling

a little stung, Sting.

  

Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!

  

That's not his real name?! You idiots!

  

Mr. Liotta, first,

belated congratulations on

  

your Emmy win for a guest spot

on ER in 2005.

  

Thank you. Thank you.

  

I see from your resume

that you're devilishly handsome

  

with a churning inner turmoil

that's ready to blow.

  

I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?

  

Not yet it isn't. But is this

what it's come to for you?

  

Exploiting tiny, helpless bees

so you don't

  

have to rehearse

your part and learn your lines, sir?

  

Watch it, Benson!

I could blow right now!

  

This isn't a goodfella.

This is a badfella!

  

Why doesn't someone just step on

this creep, and we can all go home?!

  

- Order in this court!

- You're all thinking it!

  

Order! Order, I say!

  

- Say it!

- Mr. Liotta, please sit down!

  

I think it was awfully nice

of that bear to pitch in like that.

  

I think the jury's on our side.

  

Are we doing everything right, legally?

  

I'm a florist.

  

Right. Well, here's to a great team.

  

To a great team!

  

Well, hello.

  

- Ken!

- Hello.

  

I didn't think you were coming.

  

No, I was just late.

I tried to call, but... the battery.

  

I didn't want all this to go to waste,

so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.

  

Oh, that was lucky.

  

There's a little left.

I could heat it up.

  

Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.

  

So I hear you're quite a tennis player.

  

I'm not much for the game myself.

The ball's a little grabby.

  

That's where I usually sit.

Right... there.

  

Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,

  

and he agreed with me that eating with

chopsticks isn't really a special skill.

  

You think I don't see what you're doing?

  

I know how hard it is to find

the rightjob. We have that in common.

  

Do we?

  

Bees have 100 percent employment,

but we do jobs like taking the crud out.

  

That's just what

I was thinking about doing.

  

Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor

for his fuzz. I hope that was all right.

  

I'm going to drain the old stinger.

  

Yeah, you do that.

  

Look at that.

  

You know, I've just about had it

  

with your little mind games.

  

- What's that?

- Italian Vogue.

  

Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.

  

A lot of ads.

  

Remember what Van said, why is

your life more valuable than mine?

  

Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!

  

I think something stinks in here!

  

I love the smell of flowers.

  

How do you like the smell of flames?!

  

Not as much.

  

Water bug! Not taking sides!

  

Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat!

This is pathetic!

  

I've got issues!

  

Well, well, well, a royal flush!

  

- You're bluffing.

- Am I?

  

Surf's up, dude!

  

Poo water!

  

That bowl is gnarly.

  

Except for those dirty yellow rings!

  

Kenneth! What are you doing?!

  

You know, I don't even like honey!

I don't eat it!

  

We need to talk!

  

He's just a little bee!

  

And he happens to be

the nicest bee I've met in a long time!

  

Long time? What are you talking about?!

Are there other bugs in your life?

  

No, but there are other things bugging

me in life. And you're one of them!

  

Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night...

  

My nerves are fried from riding

on this emotional roller coaster!

  

Goodbye, Ken.

  

And for your information,

  

I prefer sugar-free, artificial

sweeteners made by man!

  

I'm sorry about all that.

  

I know it's got

an aftertaste! I like it!

  

I always felt there was some kind

of barrier between Ken and me.

  

I couldn't overcome it.

Oh, well.

  

Are you OK for the trial?

  

I believe Mr. Montgomery

is about out of ideas.

  

We would like to call

Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.

  

Good idea! You can really see why he's

considered one of the best lawyers...

  

Yeah.

  

Layton, you've

gotta weave some magic

  

with this jury,

or it's gonna be all over.

  

Don't worry. The only thing I have

to do to turn this jury around

  

is to remind them

of what they don't like about bees.

  

- You got the tweezers?

- Are you allergic?

  

Only to losing, son. Only to losing.

  

Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you

what I think we'd all like to know.

  

What exactly is your relationship

  

to that woman?

  

We're friends.

  

- Good friends?

- Yes.

  

How good? Do you live together?

  

Wait a minute...

  

Are you her little...

  

...bedbug?

  

I've seen a bee documentary or two.

From what I understand,

  

doesn't your queen give birth

to all the bee children?

  

- Yeah, but...

- So those aren't your real parents!

  

- Oh, Barry...

- Yes, they are!

  

Hold me back!

  

You're an illegitimate bee,

aren't you, Benson?

  

He's denouncing bees!

  

Don't y'all date your cousins?

  

- Objection!

- I'm going to pincushion this guy!

  

Adam, don't! It's what he wants!

  

Oh, I'm hit!!

  

Oh, lordy, I am hit!

  

Order! Order!

  

The venom! The venom

is coursing through my veins!

  

I have been felled

by a winged beast of destruction!

  

You see? You can't treat them

like equals! They're striped savages!

  

Stinging's the only thing

they know! It's their way!

  

- Adam, stay with me.

- I can't feel my legs.

  

What angel of mercy

will come forward to suck the poison

  

from my heaving buttocks?

  

I will have order in this court. Order!

  

Order, please!

  

The case of the honeybees

versus the human race

  

took a pointed turn against the bees

  

yesterday when one of their legal

team stung Layton T. Montgomery.

  

- Hey, buddy.

- Hey.

  

- Is there much pain?

- Yeah.

  

I...

  

I blew the whole case, didn't I?

  

It doesn't matter. What matters is

you're alive. You could have died.

  

I'd be better off dead. Look at me.

  

They got it from the cafeteria

downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.

  

Look, there's

a little celery still on it.

  

What was it like to sting someone?

  

I can't explain it. It was all...

  

All adrenaline and then...

and then ecstasy!

  

All right.

  

You think it was all a trap?

  

Of course. I'm sorry.

I flew us right into this.

  

What were we thinking? Look at us. We're

just a couple of bugs in this world.

  

What will the humans do to us

if they win?

  

I don't know.

  

I hear they put the roaches in motels.

That doesn't sound so bad.

  

Adam, they check in,

but they don't check out!

  

Oh, my.

  

Oould you get a nurse

to close that window?

  

- Why?

- The smoke.

  

Bees don't smoke.

  

Right. Bees don't smoke.

  

Bees don't smoke!

But some bees are smoking.

  

That's it! That's our case!

  

It is? It's not over?

  

Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.

  

Get back to the court and stall.

Stall any way you can.

  

And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.

  

Mr. Flayman.

  

Yes? Yes, Your Honor!

  

Where is the rest of your team?

  

Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.

  

Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,

  

and as a result,

we don't make very good time.

  

I actually heard a funny story about...

  

Your Honor,

haven't these ridiculous bugs

  

taken up enough

of this court's valuable time?

  

How much longer will we allow

these absurd shenanigans to go on?

  

They have presented no compelling

evidence to support their charges

  

against my clients,

who run legitimate businesses.

  

I move for a complete dismissal

of this entire case!

  

Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going

  

to have to consider

Mr. Montgomery's motion.

  

But you can't! We have a terrific case.

  

Where is your proof?

Where is the evidence?

  

Show me the smoking gun!

  

Hold it, Your Honor!

You want a smoking gun?

  

Here is your smoking gun.

  

What is that?

  

It's a bee smoker!

  

What, this?

This harmless little contraption?

  

This couldn't hurt a fly,

let alone a bee.

  

Look at what has happened

  

to bees who have never been asked,

"Smoking or non?"

  

Is this what nature intended for us?

  

To be forcibly addicted

to smoke machines

  

and man-made wooden slat work camps?

  

Living out our lives as honey slaves

to the white man?

  

- What are we gonna do?

- He's playing the species card.

  

Ladies and gentlemen, please,

free these bees!

  

Free the bees! Free the bees!

  

Free the bees!

  

Free the bees! Free the bees!

  

The court finds in favor of the bees!

  

Vanessa, we won!

  

I knew you could do it! High-five!

  

Sorry.

  

I'm OK! You know what this means?

  

All the honey

will finally belong to the bees.

  

Now we won't have

to work so hard all the time.

  

This is an unholy perversion

of the balance of nature, Benson.

  

You'll regret this.

  

Barry, how much honey is out there?

  

All right. One at a time.

  

Barry, who are you wearing?

  

My sweater is Ralph Lauren,

and I have no pants.

  

- What if Montgomery's right?

- What do you mean?

  

We've been living the bee way

a long time, 27 million years.

  

Oongratulations on your victory.

What will you demand as a settlement?

  

First, we'll demand a complete shutdown

of all bee work camps.

  

Then we want back the honey

that was ours to begin with,

  

every last drop.

  

We demand an end to the glorification

of the bear as anything more

  

than a filthy, smelly,

bad-breath stink machine.

  

We're all aware

of what they do in the woods.

  

Wait for my signal.

  

Take him out.

  

He'll have nauseous

for a few hours, then he'll be fine.

  

And we will no longer tolerate

bee-negative nicknames...

  

But it's just a prance-about stage name!

  

...unnecessary inclusion of honey

in bogus health products

  

and la-dee-da human

tea-time snack garnishments.

  

Oan't breathe.

  

Bring it in, boys!

  

Hold it right there! Good.

  

Tap it.

  

Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups,

and there's gallons more coming!

  

- I think we need to shut down!

- Shut down? We've never shut down.

  

Shut down honey production!

  

Stop making honey!

  

Turn your key, sir!

  

What do we do now?

  

Oannonball!

  

We're shutting honey production!

  

Mission abort.

  

Aborting pollination and nectar detail.

Returning to base.

  

Adam, you wouldn't believe

how much honey was out there.

  

Oh, yeah?

  

What's going on? Where is everybody?

  

- Are they out celebrating?

- They're home.

  

They don't know what to do.

Laying out, sleeping in.

  

I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way

to San Antonio with a cricket.

  

At least we got our honey back.

  

Sometimes I think, so what if humans

liked our honey? Who wouldn't?

  

It's the greatest thing in the world!

I was excited to be part of making it.

  

This was my new desk. This was my

new job. I wanted to do it really well.

  

And now...

  

Now I can't.

  

I don't understand

why they're not happy.

  

I thought their lives would be better!

  

They're doing nothing. It's amazing.

Honey really changes people.

  

You don't have any idea

what's going on, do you?

  

- What did you want to show me?

- This.

  

What happened here?

  

That is not the half of it.

  

Oh, no. Oh, my.

  

They're all wilting.

  

Doesn't look very good, does it?

  

No.

  

And whose fault do you think that is?

  

You know, I'm gonna guess bees.

  

Bees?

  

Specifically, me.

  

I didn't think bees not needing to make

honey would affect all these things.

  

It's notjust flowers.

Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.

  

That's our whole SAT test right there.

  

Take away produce, that affects

the entire animal kingdom.

  

And then, of course...

  

The human species?

  

So if there's no more pollination,

  

it could all just go south here,

couldn't it?

  

I know this is also partly my fault.

  

How about a suicide pact?

  

How do we do it?

  

- I'll sting you, you step on me.

- Thatjust kills you twice.

  

Right, right.

  

Listen, Barry...

sorry, but I gotta get going.

  

I had to open my mouth and talk.

  

Vanessa?

  

Vanessa? Why are you leaving?

Where are you going?

  

To the final Tournament of Roses parade

in Pasadena.

  

They've moved it to this weekend

because all the flowers are dying.

  

It's the last chance

I'll ever have to see it.

  

Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry.

I never meant it to turn out like this.

  

I know. Me neither.

  

Tournament of Roses.

Roses can't do sports.

  

Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?

  

Roses!

  

Vanessa!

  

Roses?!

  

Barry?

  

- Roses are flowers!

- Yes, they are.

  

Flowers, bees, pollen!

  

I know.

That's why this is the last parade.

  

Maybe not.

Oould you ask him to slow down?

  

Oould you slow down?

  

Barry!

  

OK, I made a huge mistake.

This is a total disaster, all my fault.

  

Yes, it kind of is.

  

I've ruined the planet.

I wanted to help you

  

with the flower shop.

I've made it worse.

  

Actually, it's completely closed down.

  

I thought maybe you were remodeling.

  

But I have another idea, and it's

greater than my previous ideas combined.

  

I don't want to hear it!

  

All right, they have the roses,

the roses have the pollen.

  

I know every bee, plant

and flower bud in this park.

  

All we gotta do is get what they've got

back here with what we've got.

  

- Bees.

- Park.

  

- Pollen!

- Flowers.

  

- Repollination!

- Across the nation!

  

Tournament of Roses,

Pasadena, Oalifornia.

  

They've got nothing

but flowers, floats and cotton candy.

  

Security will be tight.

  

I have an idea.

  

Vanessa Bloome, FTD.

  

Official floral business. It's real.

  

Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.

  

Thank you. It was a gift.

  

Once inside,

we just pick the right float.

  

How about The Princess and the Pea?

  

I could be the princess,

and you could be the pea!

  

Yes, I got it.

  

- Where should I sit?

- What are you?

  

- I believe I'm the pea.

- The pea?

  

It goes under the mattresses.

  

- Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart.

- I'm getting the marshal.

  

You do that!

This whole parade is a fiasco!

  

Let's see what this baby'll do.

  

Hey, what are you doing?!

  

Then all we do

is blend in with traffic...

  

...without arousing suspicion.

  

Once at the airport,

there's no stopping us.

  

Stop! Security.

  

- You and your insect pack your float?

- Yes.

  

Has it been

in your possession the entire time?

  

Would you remove your shoes?

  

- Remove your stinger.

- It's part of me.

  

I know. Just having some fun.

Enjoy your flight.

  

Then if we're lucky, we'll have

just enough pollen to do the job.

  

Oan you believe how lucky we are? We

have just enough pollen to do the job!

  

I think this is gonna work.

  

It's got to work.

  

Attention, passengers,

this is Oaptain Scott.

  

We have a bit of bad weather

in New York.

  

It looks like we'll experience

a couple hours delay.

  

Barry, these are cut flowers

with no water. They'll never make it.

  

I gotta get up there

and talk to them.

  

Be careful.

  

Oan I get help

with the Sky Mall magazine?

  

I'd like to order the talking

inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.

  

Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.

  

- What'd you say, Hal?

- Nothing.

  

Bee!

  

Don't freak out! My entire species...

  

What are you doing?

  

- Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!

- Who's an attorney?

  

Don't move.

  

Oh, Barry.

  

Good afternoon, passengers.

This is your captain.

  

Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B

please report to the cockpit?

  

And please hurry!

  

What happened here?

  

There was a DustBuster,

a toupee, a life raft exploded.

  

One's bald, one's in a boat,

they're both unconscious!

  

- Is that another bee joke?

- No!

  

No one's flying the plane!

  

This is JFK control tower, Flight 356.

What's your status?

  

This is Vanessa Bloome.

I'm a florist from New York.

  

Where's the pilot?

  

He's unconscious,

and so is the copilot.

  

Not good. Does anyone onboard

have flight experience?

  

As a matter of fact, there is.

  

- Who's that?

- Barry Benson.

  

From the honey trial?! Oh, great.

  

Vanessa, this is nothing more

than a big metal bee.

  

It's got giant wings, huge engines.

  

I can't fly a plane.

  

- Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot?

- Yes.

  

How hard could it be?

  

Wait, Barry!

We're headed into some lightning.

  

This is Bob Bumble. We have some

late-breaking news from JFK Airport,

  

where a suspenseful scene

is developing.

  

Barry Benson,

fresh from his legal victory...

  

That's Barry!

  

...is attempting to land a plane,

loaded with people, flowers

  

and an incapacitated flight crew.

  

Flowers?!

  

We have a storm in the area

and two individuals at the controls

  

with absolutely no flight experience.

  

Just a minute.

There's a bee on that plane.

  

I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson

and his no-account compadres.

  

They've done enough damage.

  

But isn't he your only hope?

  

Technically, a bee

shouldn't be able to fly at all.

  

Their wings are too small...

  

Haven't we heard this a million times?

  

"The surface area of the wings

and body mass make no sense."

  

- Get this on the air!

- Got it.

  

- Stand by.

- We're going live.

  

The way we work may be a mystery to you.

  

Making honey takes a lot of bees

doing a lot of small jobs.

  

But let me tell you about a small job.

  

If you do it well,

it makes a big difference.

  

More than we realized.

To us, to everyone.

  

That's why I want to get bees

back to working together.

  

That's the bee way!

We're not made of Jell-O.

  

We get behind a fellow.

  

- Black and yellow!

- Hello!

  

Left, right, down, hover.

  

- Hover?

- Forget hover.

  

This isn't so hard.

Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

  

Barry, what happened?!

  

Wait, I think we were

on autopilot the whole time.

  

- That may have been helping me.

- And now we're not!

  

So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.

  

All of you, let's get

behind this fellow! Move it out!

  

Move out!

  

Our only chance is if I do what I'd do,

you copy me with the wings of the plane!

  

Don't have to yell.

  

I'm not yelling!

We're in a lot of trouble.

  

It's very hard to concentrate

with that panicky tone in your voice!

  

It's not a tone. I'm panicking!

  

I can't do this!

  

Vanessa, pull yourself together.

You have to snap out of it!

  

You snap out of it.

  

You snap out of it.

  

- You snap out of it!

- You snap out of it!

  

- You snap out of it!

- You snap out of it!

  

- You snap out of it!

- You snap out of it!

  

- Hold it!

- Why? Oome on, it's my turn.

  

How is the plane flying?

  

I don't know.

  

Hello?

  

Benson, got any flowers

for a happy occasion in there?

  

The Pollen Jocks!

  

They do get behind a fellow.

  

- Black and yellow.

- Hello.

  

All right, let's drop this tin can

on the blacktop.

  

Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?

  

No, nothing. It's all cloudy.

  

Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.

  

- Thinking bee.

- Thinking bee.

  

Thinking bee!

Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  

Wait a minute.

I think I'm feeling something.

  

- What?

- I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.

  

Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.

  

Bring the nose down.

  

Thinking bee!

Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  

- What in the world is on the tarmac?

- Get some lights on that!

  

Thinking bee!

Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

  

- Vanessa, aim for the flower.

- OK.

  

Out the engines. We're going in

on bee power. Ready, boys?

  

Affirmative!

  

Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.

  

Land on that flower!

  

Ready? Full reverse!

  

Spin it around!

  

- Not that flower! The other one!

- Which one?

  

- That flower.

- I'm aiming at the flower!

  

That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt.

I mean the giant pulsating flower

  

made of millions of bees!

  

Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.

  

Rotate around it.

  

- This is insane, Barry!

- This's the only way I know how to fly.

  

Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane

flying in an insect-like pattern?

  

Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid.

Smell it. Full reverse!

  

Just drop it. Be a part of it.

  

Aim for the center!

  

Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!

  

Oome on, already.

  

Barry, we did it!

You taught me how to fly!

  

- Yes. No high-five!

- Right.

  

Barry, it worked!

Did you see the giant flower?

  

What giant flower? Where? Of course

I saw the flower! That was genius!

  

- Thank you.

- But we're not done yet.

  

Listen, everyone!

  

This runway is covered

with the last pollen

  

from the last flowers

available anywhere on Earth.

  

That means this is our last chance.

  

We're the only ones who make honey,

pollinate flowers and dress like this.

  

If we're gonna survive as a species,

this is our moment! What do you say?

  

Are we going to be bees, orjust

Museum of Natural History keychains?

  

We're bees!

  

Keychain!

  

Then follow me! Except Keychain.

  

Hold on, Barry. Here.

  

You've earned this.

  

Yeah!

  

I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect

fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.

  

Oh, yeah.

  

That's our Barry.

  

Mom! The bees are back!

  

If anybody needs

to make a call, now's the time.

  

I got a feeling we'll be

working late tonight!

  

Here's your change. Have a great

afternoon! Oan I help who's next?

  

Would you like some honey with that?

It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.

  

Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me.

And I don't see a nickel!

  

Sometimes I just feel

like a piece of meat!

  

I had no idea.

  

Barry, I'm sorry.

Have you got a moment?

  

Would you excuse me?

My mosquito associate will help you.

  

Sorry I'm late.

  

He's a lawyer too?

  

I was already a blood-sucking parasite.

All I needed was a briefcase.

  

Have a great afternoon!

  

Barry, I just got this huge tulip order,

and I can't get them anywhere.

  

No problem, Vannie.

Just leave it to me.

  

You're a lifesaver, Barry.

Oan I help who's next?

  

All right, scramble, jocks!

It's time to fly.

  

Thank you, Barry!

  

That bee is living my life!

  

Let it go, Kenny.

  

- When will this nightmare end?!

- Let it all go.

  

- Beautiful day to fly.

- Sure is.

  

Between you and me,

I was dying to get out of that office.

  

You have got

to start thinking bee, my friend.

  

- Thinking bee!

- Me?

  

Hold it. Let's just stop

for a second. Hold it.

  

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone.

Oan we stop here?

  

I'm not making a major life decision

during a production number!

    

All right. Take ten, everybody.

Wrap it up, guys.

  

I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

  

I wanted to post my story, but I needed a reason, so I made a slightly Apocalyptic 870 so i could post it! Here it is!

 

World In Flames

        

The year is 2019 and the world is burning. A new hybrid pathogen is turning people into all kinds of different freaks of nature. I guess you could say the zombie apocalypse has come. My name is Chris and I'm one of the few survivors, I'm with my girlfriend Tabby, and my friends Johnny, A.J, Connor, Casey, and Ellen. We are some of the last people on earth.

    

“Dude, I'm freaking hungry.” Johnny said. “We're heading out for a food run soon, man, just hold on.” A.J responded. “Man, do you have like a black hole for a stomach or something? Jesus man.” I say. “What?! I've got a high metabolism!” Johnny responds. Johnny, one of my best friends, great guy with a heart of gold. I love him to death, he's like a brother to me. Then there's A.J, funny dude, pretty athletic, great dude as well. Casey, is a great girl and she treats Johnny well. Connor is a strange guy, but he's awesome and is crazy with a gun. Tabby, she's my world and I'd do everything for her, she's my life, my reason for living. Ellen, farm girl from Kentucky you know the type, takes AG, eats real food, etc... Finally there is me, A gamer guy from Ohio that has always dreamed about the zombie apocalypse! Together we all just make our ways around Grove City, Ohio just trying to survive.

    

A few weeks ago Connor started to act really funny. Throwing up, getting real pale and acting paranoid. I've been keeping an eye on him ever since. “Dude, you need to check him out, I'm getting a little scared.” Johnny said handing me his Beretta M92 and motioning towards Connor. “Alright man, I'll go see whats up.” I replied. I walked over to Connor as he was cleaning his Remington 870. “Hey Connor, I've noticed you've been looking a little pale. Are you feeling all right?” I asked concernedly. “Yeah, I've been feeling kinda sick though” He said. I looked at him, I've been friends with Connor for a long time and I know when something is off. “Do you feel sick sick, or SICK sick?” I asked questioningly “I'm not turning, if that's what your implying.” he said with a scowl. “Alright, just let me know if anything changes.” I said. I handed the gun back to Johnny. I walked into the room where we keep our supplies and grabbed a water bottle. I drank about half and then I asked Tabby if she wanted the rest. “Eww, I don't want to drink after you.” She said in a playful voice. “Oh cmon, you kiss me for God's sake!” I say back just as playful. She smiles and takes the water bottle from my hand. I stand and look at her for a little bit, she's perfect in every way. I hope I see the day that she wears that diamond ring on her hand. Happily I walk to the bathroom to wash my face off, I accidentally walk in on Connor taking a bath. As I walk in I see a rash on his back, its starting to blister up and rip his skin open. They are tell-tale signs of someone turning. “Connor, you've been bitten.” I say almost angrily “You could kill us all” He looks up and is surprised to see me. “I didn't want to worry you man” He says in a scared tone. “Connor, you wouldn't have worried me. But, now that its progressed this far, you know what I have to do.” I say. “Yeah” He says, as his head drops. I pull my friend's head up and look him in the eyes. “I'm sorry Connor.” I say as I set the gun against his warm forehead. I barely feel the shot, the gun doesn't even seem to make a sound. All I remember is opening my eyes and seeing a bath tub with red tinted water and Connor's body laying there.

    

“You did what you had to do babe.” Tabby says, trying to comfort me over the loss of my friend. “I know, but it doesn't help me get over the fact I just took my best friend's life.” I respond sadly. “Listen man, I know your really upset over the loss of Connor, but we gotta get more supplies man.” Ellen says to me. “Alright, lets take the Buick.” I say. As soon as word came out about the infection, my dad and I turned his car into a rolling safe house. Metal plating riveted on the hood, sides, and roof. Blow-out proof tires, the whole lot. We all pile in and head to the nearest Wal-Mart. As we roll into the parking lot, Johnny, A.J and I all go into the superstore to see if its safe. Leaving the girls behind and locking the doors. We walk inside and check all the aisles. “Clear down here!” A.J yells. “All good in electronics!” I hear from Johnny. “Alright! Lets go out and get the girls!” I yell back. As we walk back outside, we turn and see the car completely surrounded with zombies. They aren't very strong, but they are beating up the car pretty good. “God dammit!” A.J yells running at the zombies. I run next to him and start shooting with my S&W 99 pistol. “Tabby, Ellen, Casey! Duck!” I yell. As they duck, I shoot out the windshield enough to make a small hole. I reach into my pocket and toss the keys into the car. The zombies break through the window and bite Ellen as she is starting the car. They take out most of the zombies when they drive out, then Casey opens the doors and we all three jump in.

    

“The infection doesn't spread that fast, maybe if we cut off my arm, I won't turn.” Ellen says. A.J puts his arm around her and starts to hold her tight. “You'll be alright honey” He says to her. I pull the car into our garage and lock the garage door. Ellen lays down on the couch and hands me a saw she got out of the garage. “You sure you want me to do this?” I ask. “Well, would you rather die?” She snaps “Just cut it off.” I start sawing and with no more than a grunt from her, its over and she's wrapped in gauze. Suddenly, there is a huge crash from the garage. “What the hell was that?!” Johnny says alarmingly. “I have no idea, man. I'll go check it out.” A.J says. I look to Ellen and see her skin starting to become more and more pale. “DUDE! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!” A.J screams, I run over to him and look out the door. Zombies have completely destroyed my garage and the car. “Ah crap! They must have smelled the bloo-” I'm cut off as the zombie that was once Ellen attacks me full speed. Tabby screams and Johnny grabs a chair and slams it into the zombie, sending is flailing across the room. “Holy crap man, she almost got me!” I say. “You saved me bro!”

    

A few months have passed and we some how got stranded on some island in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. In these few months, the virus has become air-borne through wounds only. Which wouldn't have been a big deal, except for the fact that we don't have any bandages to cover wounds. Tabby and I decide to got check out the island and see whats on it. We're climbing through a desolated grocery store, when I hear Tabby cry out in pain. “Oh my god, I cut myself! Its gushing!” She screams. “Its fine honey, you'll be fine, we'll find some gauze or something.” I say in a concerned voice. W carry her to the medical aisle and find her some gauze to wrap her leg in. The bleeding stopped and now she's getting pale. I keep telling myself its just the loss of blood, but I know the truth. She's infected and there is nothing I can do about it. A few weeks pass and I slowly watch her turn. Its painful, She never catches me crying, but I do frequently. Its like watching my very future die in front of me. I woke up to see her sitting in the corner rocking back and forth. “Tabby, are you alright?” I ask in a shaky voice. Her head whips around and her eyes are wild, she jumps up and starts to slowly walk towards me. “Tabby, baby, I know the real you is in there, come on babe.” I say. I scramble for my gun and slide the magazine in. “Tabby, please, fight the sickness, baby, please!” I say pleadingly. She continues to walk towards me. I raise the gun to her head, close my eyes and pull the trigger. I fall to my knees and cry for hours. Johnny and A.J try to comfort me, but nothing will replace the hole in my heart.

    

We start to walk towards a small dock on the east side of the island, there are two, two seater boats with about ¾ a tank each. “I figure we can make it to Texas with that much.” A.J says. “Alright, lets go then, Johnny and I in this one, You and Casey in that one” I say. We start to cruise on to Texas when a small storm comes up, big waves push on our boat away from A.J and Casey. When we land in Texas, A.j and Casey are no where to be found. “Damn, where do you think they are?” Johnny asks me in a concerned voice. “I'm sure they're fine Johnny, we'll run into them eventually.” Johnny and I start walking inland towards Dallas. When we finally get there we run into A.j but not Casey. “Where the hell is she man?” Johnny asks angrily. “I don't know! She claimed she knew what she was doing, then the next thing I know she's gone!” A.j says back. “Johnny, where ever she is, I'm sure she's fine. So just settle down, I need you running on all cylinders now.” I say to my friend. “Yeah, ok, I'll be alright.” He says in an uneasy voice.

    

“So let me get this straight, we're in the middle of Texas, on a war-torn highway over pass, that is barely holding our weight, and now a pack of zombies is RUNNING at us?” A.j says as we sprint down the torn asphalt. “Sounds about right, now move!” I yell back. I can hear the creaking and cracking of the bridge as we run. It won't hold much longer. Suddenly, the pent-up energy of the concrete gives up, and the asphalt beneath Johnny and A.j starts to tip down. I skid to a stop and jump on to my stomach to try and grab them. “COME ON! GRAB MY HANDS!” I yell. A.j looks up and as his eyes meet mine, I know what he's thinking. Him and Johnny are too heavy for me to pull up alone. He gives me a small nod and lets go, falling to his death, he doesn't even scream. As I pull Johnny up, I hear the sickening thud and crack of a body hitting concrete. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, but I can't dwell too long, zombies are still coming. Then, I hear a distinctive sound in the distance. “Chopper!” Johnny yells, “HEY! DOWN HERE!.” The chopper can't tell us from zombies and opens fire. Johnny and I take off running, about half way to the end, Johnny trips on a chunk of asphalt. I run back to help him up, and as I'm pulling him up, his leg gets hit by a 7.62 round. When the chopper finally sees us, they are full and can't pick us up, so they give us directions to the nearest safe house. But, it is still almost 10 miles away. Johnny and I decide to just make camp in an empty gas station.

    

I end up just watching Johnny sleep all night. I know his leg wound is open to the illness and by now, we both know what will happen. I wonder what a human being has to go through to be ready to release itself into the unforgiving arms of death. I shake off the thought and settle down for bed. When I wake up, Johnny is sitting with his eyes open staring at the ceiling. “I'm already dead, aren't I?” He asks. “No man, I'm sure we can get you to a doctor or somethi-” “No, I'm done. The wound has been open for almost 12 hours now. I'm gone brother.” He says, cutting me off. “Here.” He says sliding me his M92, “Take this and do what has to be done, but promise me one thing.” “Anything man” I say. “If you find Casey, make sure she lives. Please, Its all I ask.” He says with tears in his eyes. “I will Johnny, I promise” I say as I put the barrel to his head. “Chris, before I leave this world. Just remember, I love you man, I love you.” He says “I love you too Johnny.” I say as I look into my friend's eyes. “Goodbye, brother.”

    

I don't know how much more I can take. I've lost all the family I had left on this planet. As I walk onward, I find Casey at a rest stop. She's pretty shaken up, but she hasn't been bitten. “Hey, Chris, I found this radio in some humvee down the... where's Johnny.” She says, I look down and shake my head. “Oh my god....” She whispers. “Are we all that's left?” “That's what it seems like” I respond. As I go to say something, I'm interrupted by a sound out side. “Shoot, zombies.” I say. “Come on, we gotta get out of here.” I pull her up and we run to the nearest building. As we run up the flight of stairs, she starts yelling into the radio. “Hello? Is anyone out there?!” She yells. “Yes, this is Alpha 138 Squadron, who is this?” came the static filled reply. “This is Casey O'Brian, and we are surrounded in a building in Fremont, Texas.” She yells back. “Alright, sit tight, we'll see what we can do.”

    

As we run up the stairs, we finally reach the top, I slam the door open and then bolt it shut again. Both of us are breathing heavy and fall to the ground. “Mrs Boone, do you copy?” Comes the crackle from the radio. “Yes, I'm here.” She replies. “Alright, we've got a patrol in your area, small helicopter. Should be there in about 1 minute.” Comes the reply. “Hear that Chris? We're gonna be fine!” She says excitedly. In the distance, I hear the thump of helicopter rotors. I look up and see a small 7 passenger chopper come up to land on the building. “Umm, We have a slight problem” Said the pilot. “We only have room for one more person..” I look at Casey. I take the radio from her hand and lift her into the helicopter. “What are you doing?” She asks. “What does it look like I'm doing? Now get the hell out of here.” I tell her. “Thank you.” She says. “Don't mention it.” I respond as the rotors spin up. I watch the last helicopter leave my sight.

    

Now, I sit here in the corner of this building with my laptop about to die and my pistol low on ammo. Some day, maybe someone will find this and read it, or maybe this will all go to waste. But for now, My name is Christian Bryant, and my world is about to get snuffed out

  

Well? What do you all think? Leave me a comment? Thanks guys, I love you all :D

 

Originally shot this self-portrait to share on FB with the caption "oh, hey, hello from a planet far, far away." But close enough for binoculars, apparently.

 

I'm the kind of person to tell a complete stranger my life story knowing I will never see them again. I actually prefer that type of interaction when it comes to sharing my feelings. Flickr, you are my stranger.

 

I've been having trouble sleeping lately. Motherhood is stressful. More so when you're sleep deprived though your baby is kind enough to be sleeping through the night.

 

I quit my job back in December. It's been almost a year since my son was born and I've coped well with the transition. But there's times when la chinga is tough.

 

The internet became a thing when I was about 15 so I feel like my generation needs to have an online presence to feel alive. Self-portraiture is still a thing, even though I've read the personal essay is dead.

 

I haven't kept up with my writing or journal consistently for years, but I keep coming back to it for my sanity.

 

I've been considering deleting my FB AGAIN because it has become too much of a political platform. But perhaps that's just the world. Everybody seems to be wounded and crying about it online.

 

I feel ashamed for adding to the cyber drama but I guess if we're all screaming into the abyss I may as well let my voice be heard. I would do a portrait with a megaphone if I had one lying around.

 

My friend was mourning her involvement in architecture the other day and I reminded her that she is a high school teacher now... and I thought of how I mourn that I am not a writer despite the fact I have a creative writing degree.

 

I told my husband that I chose my degree based on the councelor's "don't fret" attitude about choosing a major: "People change their careers about 5 times in a lifetime." or however many.

 

Right now I'm mourning the fact that I'm not working outside the home. I get photo gigs and they trully are work with a crying baby at my feet. Como dije, es una chinga.

Y entiendo que hay chingas peores.

 

Anyway. For years I've felt like I've been losing myself despite also feeling like I've never found out my true calling. And it's been an existential crisis since I was like 13. I don't know why it is so important for me to be "true to myself" and why I think it would be sad if I wasn't. That being said, I think I am attuned to when I'm not being authentic and I don't think I've let myself be "authentic" for years.

 

It becomes worse when you become a parent. You're constantly in midst of strangers; be it at the library, the doctor's office, the grocery store. You're not really allowed to express your authentic self very often in public spaces, especially not if you're an introvert, and it is taking its toll.

The other day a coach tried to recruit me for the master's swim class at the natatorium on the premise that: "you wouldn't be swimming alone."

 

I PREFER doing things alone. I don't need a workout or shopping buddy. If anything, they will slow me down. Not because I'm always more athletic but because I feel I must "entertain" them instead of performing the task at hand. And people are draining. I was raised anti-social, and by golly, it seems I will DIE anti-social lol

 

But now I gotta think about the effect of my actions on my son. I saw a nice parenting title on Amazon: "How to Traumatize Your Children: 7 Proven Methods to Help You Screw Up Your Kids Deliberately and with Skill". I should buy it.

 

I realize when i wake up my thoughts will all seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But I feel like that's now an issue. The fact that I don't feel strongly about one particular cause. lol Like, everyone seems to be waving some protest sign and I'm still over here being 12 trying to figure out how I feel. [Insert eye roll.] I tell myself the world needs people like me. Not so much apathetic but able to see the opinion in things people take to heart as immovable TRUTHS. Will you quit it with the banners already? Maybe I'm missing a backbone. But I feel if everybody got a planet based on differences and opressions they would still find something to differ and fight about.

 

I'm not bragging but I cry for the state of the world more consistently than I write. And I don't know that I want to carry that weight. I got a kid to feed three times a day plus snacks!

Before I had him I would push self-destruct in a heartbeat! Now.. I would probably try to save children four-years and under lol. Let's see if their innocent nature can trully build a just and equal world.

 

And I realize suicide is the easy way out and not a solution at all. I was also not raised to problem solve. I don't want to pick up the latest political fad. I want to beleive in something but it all seems flawed. I need something that is pure and true. I've caught myself searching twice: Once in religion another in literature and I've been let down both times. I cannot idolize or place faith in imperfection. It doesn't seem worth it to me. As I've gotten older, I've started to respect our attempts at perfection... but idk, is that the end goal? I was influenced to think that it is.

 

I should read more so that I have more to go on than my pubescent opinion.

 

Speaking of puberty. If you're intending to have children, go ahead and wear a bikini to the beach or the pool the rest of the summer. Because your stomach may never be the same after you give birth. I'm mourning that too. A little too hard, I'd say. I looked about 3 months pregnant at the end of the day years before getting pregnant so Idk why I'm now surprised about my belly. I guess because now it's looking 3 months pregnant ALL DAY LOL Just--maybe it'll get better with the years but, I'm short, so, probably not. But I'm hoping.

 

I guess that's all the traumas I have for tonight. Thanks for listening.

Model: Tanu

MUA: Yuui

 

Strobist info: A 580 in corrugated plastic grid @ 1/4 on the far side of the model, high and right (its reflection is just visible in the upper right corner). That's providing the texture on the glass and the light on the far side of her face for the reflection. A 430 bare @ 1/16th camera left for fill. Triggered via RadioPopper JrX studios.

 

This was the coldest shoot ever. Makeup took longer than expected, so Victoria and I were waiting around in the ~25-30 degree cold for about an hour before we even got started. But even still, gotta say this was amazingly worth it.

 

Doing these in San Diego last year was interesting. What's more interesting is doing these now with everything that has changed: I'm a far better photographer, I've got much better lighting gear, I've got more lighting gear in general, and now Victoria is more actively working as a creative director / assistant on most shoots, which adds a whole lot of help that I could so have used last winter. Plus, San Diego is short on old places and vintage textures, almost everything was done in a single alleyway in La Jolla. Now living in New York, there's no shortage of places to shoot for a vintage look. But the funny thing is (probably because of the cold) we wound up doing everything that was part of this shoot within the space of about 20x20 anyway, down near South Street Seaport.

 

It really is a remarkable thing when my vintage/noir shoots are so beautiful in color that I cannot force myself to drop 'em into B&W. But (I hope you'll agree) this one would lose a lot in that translation. There are some other pieces from this series that may or may not get posted here that are lovely in B&W, but the color really makes it pop.

BELIEVE IN MERMAIDS

 

.

 

I've wrestled with my conscience and declared the bout a draw. I've examined each and every avenue of perception and contemplation with time on my side and a willingness to seek out some pearl of wisdom that I might take with me to the grave. But all this pathetic brain of mine can muster is an awe for Mother nature's brilliance and bounty as those tidal surges have me ever more drenched and clinging onto my last breath, and the realisation that perhaps this is not such a bad day to die.

 

The thin tubular aluminium legs of my portable fishing chair flex and move under the weight of the water, sinking ever deeper into the soft velvety sand with each successive wave as I flinch under the freezing cold pain of the water now making unwarranted advances upon my ill prepared flesh. I want to cry but won't allow myself such wasteful and unproductive indulgence as I struggle to break free my limbs from the layers of tape that bind me callously to the skimpy chair, itself firmly affixed to the far end of the wooden groyne that for decades many has occupied these sea defences. Despite my best intentions I must concede the simple fact that a mortal of the merest form I am, no God nor king of legend past and bold with powers to halt the progress of the devilish sea. All the same, old Canute's earnest belief in his abilities wouldn't come a miss right now.

 

The morning breeze stiffens and billows in, buffeting my face along with salty sea spray and foam that floats from the shoreline, stinging my eyes and scalding my parched lips as my brain attempts to calculate and recalibrate a world of mayhem and possibility. And like a mirage in a barren desert land, from time to time there I am, believing that I might actually find salvation amidst the blissful chaos. Where I think there is a sign of movement between tethered hands and unforgiving tape, reality slaps me down as I fail once more to make any ground, the water ever faster, ever deeper as it pools around my submerged feet which are anchored beneath the sand and buried to a point several inches above my ankles, sending an icy chill up and down my spine. I know that he is watching me from a short distance away, I can feel his cold eyes burning into the back of my neck, his contemptuous stare though he'll naturally understand if I don't turn around and give him the satisfaction of the credit he craves. All the same, I wish I could turn and flash him a toothy smile as an 'up yours, pal' salvo across his decks. A three sixty revolving neck like a scene from 'The Exorcist' would be a neat trick right now.

 

My right eye is partially closed, the swelling smarting like a son of a bitch and congealed blood now dry and crusty around my face where he broke the skin under the impact with fists and wedding ring. Ah yes, that ring. How apt and intrinsically appropriate. Worn out of some sense of dominance and pride I would guess, a mark of allegiance, of ownership in his eyes, to complete my final humiliation and stamp his angry condemnation of my carnal actions and the consequences that have arisen from them. Only a fool such as I could choose to make an enemy of a violent husband with psychopathic tendencies, and a passion for the intricate details of violence drawn from years of watching American gangster movies. Why couldn't he have been a 'philatelist, then the worst fate that might have befallen me was in being licked to death! Or a lepidopterist.... hmm on second thoughts he'd probably have dried me to a husk and pinned me in a glass cabinet with a giant pin through my chest!

 

This stretch of coastline lies secluded and unmolested by tourist eyes, towards the outer reaches of the angry shoreline, where ageing wooden groynes pepper the beach and stand guard over my demise like legions of soldiers lined up for the fight. Positioned by the first breaker with three more behind me closer to the sea wall, my eyes survey the degradation and algae adorning the wooden form which tells me that soon I shall taste the salt water and breathe no longer. Everything so meticulously planned, he chose the location so well as into his violent trap I so foolishly wandered. The story of my life one could say, the nearly man, neither Prince nor King of the facets of my life, a head filled with romantic notions and a heart worn so carelessly on my soaking wet sleeves. Romance, you've gotta love it. Look where it got me this time. The sea water rises steadily, my waste now submerged and all attempts to free the legs of the chair thwarted by his use of tent pegs bent over and pinned into the core of the sand. He thought of everything, the cold and calculating bastard! My heart beat races like a charging stallion with every new pulsing surge of water, and perhaps rather curiously, I find myself with the urge to laugh out loud, uncontrollably at the top of my lungs. Am I facing madness as I stare death in the eye? I guess I never got around to reading the book on my bedroom cabinet, 'Etiquette when facing death at the hands of a mad thing'.

 

My nose is broken, I'm almost certain of the fact as I can hear the fragments moving rather unsettlingly against each other as I breath through the constricted passageway of my blood filled nostrils, mouth agape as I suck in great gulps of air and breath hard as the liquid reaches my chest. It's a suitably impressive show that Mother nature puts on just for me in my final hour, with the golden sand slowly disappearing beneath the advancing crests of the foamy waves, and seagulls overhead seeming to stare down and mock my sad plight as they hover motionless in the breeze above me. Unlike those ancient and fascinating Groynes, for this mere mortal, just one early morning tide is all that is needed to erase me, snuff me out from the existence enjoyed, the future I had planned. I feel almost cheated somehow, relishing the prospect of going out in style at the very least, and yet here I am giving up the fight without so much as a whimper.

 

Back at the car, Susan's carcass will be rapidly cooling by now. He'll have a hell of a job to hide all evidence of her murder, doesn't he realize that scrubbing the black velvet boot carpet of all traces of blood and bodily fluids will not fool the forensic squad once they get their filthy paws on the Mercedes? I picked that up from reruns of CSI shows on various digital channels over the years. I can still see her lying there as he opened the boot and forced me to survey the extent of the damage that I had caused. Hands taped and blood pouring from my fresh wounds, the baseball bat indentations throbbing on my battered bones as I looked into her still open, though curiously vacant eyes. I guess it's only fair that we both suffered the same fate this day for our unrequited love, the illicit and lurid legacy of our torrid affair, and yet a part of me, a selfish part that lurks deep in the very recesses of my worthless heart, somehow wishes that Susan were still alive to give me a perspective, a reason to make a stand and fight back like a man with all my strength and might. As it is, I am broken, nothing left to care for, the reason for my existence snuffed out before me. I am beaten. I guess there is always Mr Timmins, but no doubt once he realizes that I have not shown up for his on the dot five thirty dinner spread, he'll do what all cats do and find some other sucker to fall for his fluffalicious charms.

 

A wave pounds me, rushing my nostrils as salt water powers past the restricted passageways, pain searing through my brain as I try to eject the water from my mouth in rapid spits, head flailing with the limited movement my neck has. It's actually quite a buzz, the cold water smacking me in the face, the realization that this is it, I'm facing the reaper any second. I'd like to make a final speech and announce to the world that I enjoyed my short life and lived it to the full, but the world doesn't care much it seems to me, as local residents still fester in the pits of their love nests, leaving just a handful of curious sea gulls to ride the breeze around me. It could have been so perfect, so idyllic, as we two forbidden lovers luxuriated in the moment of our freedom, heading off into the metaphoric sunset on white horses to begin a new life away from that monster. I should have been a man, had some backbone, thought this moment through and offered up at least a valiant defence. But here I sit, bound to a collapsible fishing chair with a broken nose and shattered dreams, the woman I love lying dead just metres from me and his victory complete and final.

 

The final wave signals her intent from afar, gathering momentum and lifting her skirts as she heads like a Queen on her trusty many hands high white steed with sword held aloft and steel visor firmly down. This is it I guess, as I face my demise, mouth open and screaming as defiantly as my throat will muster, the slit gushing rich ruby red lifeblood from the precise slashing that his serrated diving knife so cordially obliged me with. The water rushes over me and I can hear my scream beneath the wave as I struggle for breath and wait for the water to recede enough for one last gulp of air. But sometimes hopes and dreams are scattered to the winds as is the case right here and now. As my breath falters and water rushes into every orifice, I sense the end is here. Perhaps soon I will be reunited with my love in a better place. Underwater, eyes open, I ponder the existence of Mermaids from ancient legend and live in hope that one will come and rescue me at her leisure.

 

Ever the optimist.

 

Believe in mermaids? Right here, right now, never moreso.....

  

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***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on April 7th 2015

  

CREATIVE RF gty.im/ MOMENT OPEN COLLECTION**

 

This photograph became my 635th frame to be selected for inclusion and sale in the Getty Images 'Moment' collection and I am very grateful to them for such a wonderful oportunity.

  

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Rewritten from a piece penned on December 31st 2010 Photograph taken at sunrise on the beach at Camber Sands in East Sussex, England.

 

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Nikon D700 34mm 1/50s f/3.2 iso200 -0.3step EV

 

Nikkor AF-S 24-70mm f/2.8G ED IF. UV filter. Manfrotto 055XPro Carbon fibre & Manfrotto 327 RC2 pistol grip. Shutter release and mirror up.

 

Have you ever been the sole possessor of information that could have a bunch of people put into prison for a very long time?

 

Psychologically it's not a very good place to find yourself.

 

After a while you start feeling kinda like you're walking around with 'bullseyes' all over yourself.

 

You realize that for a good number of people, life would be a lot easier if you were dead.

 

Once you come to that magnificently charming realization the next thing you gotta do is make it so that if anything happens to you, that the information isn't gonna die withya.

 

Then ya gotta get that out there to the people who might want you dead.

 

It's 'life insurance.'

 

The kind that keeps you alive.

 

It's better than the kind that pays off when you're dead... that should be called 'death insurance.'

 

I'd found myself right in the middle of this treachery one day and I didn't like it one bit.

 

One night as I was unlocking the front door of my house I wondered... if I took a bullet right now to the back of the head... would I feel it?

 

Would I hear it?

 

Would I see for a second blood and gore and pieces of my brains splattered on the front door in front of me before 'the lights went out?'

 

Would that moment be like when you turned off an old TV and the whole picture seemed to shrink down quickly to one tiny dot of light and then vanish?

 

What I knew scared me.

 

I'd been told enough times to watch my back.

 

That I knew who I was dealing with was scary enough... but as the scandal grew to incorporate more and more players who's names and faces I didn't know...

 

Man.

 

You couldn't know what it's like unless you've been there.

 

And my friend... you're gonna help me out right now.

 

There's only one last piece of the puzzle that I haven't shared with anyone.

 

And I'm going to share it with you.

 

Right here and right now.

 

Right here on flickr.

 

I've been avoiding the media for a couple of days now.

 

I really don't wanna be talkin' about this stuff on TV anymore.

 

The life I live 'behind the camera' is the one I really prefer.

 

There was one moment in the whole stinking rotten episode that scared the living shit out of me.

 

It made me drop the phone and it left me speechless and feeling pretty vulnerable.

 

After I'd figured out their dirty little secret I hadda figure out who in the hell I could tell about what they were doing... who could I tell that would do something?

 

I found out that the people who are supposed to make sure that water that we drink is clean and pure in this state is the Illinios Environmental Protection Agency (IEPA).

 

On some of the documents that Krista and I had obtained through FOIA requests that she'd made there was the name of a guy at the IEPA.

 

I figured I'd start there.

 

Jesus I can barely type right now just recalling those moments.

 

The guy's name was Saavu.

 

It looked like he'd been sent out there to test the water supply a couple of times and it seemed like he might be a little familiar with the setup and the goin's on there.

 

I thought maybe I could trust him.

 

The first time I got him on the phone he sounded kinda funny.

 

You know I just couldn't put my finger on it but his demeanor was kind of odd.

 

When I told him the story he assured me that he knew what was going on and that they weren't doing anything wrong.

 

'Maybe he just didn't get it' I thought... maybe he just needed to see the documents we'd found.

 

Still... I figured he was the guy who could help bring all of this to light.

 

I guess I really didn't know the true meaning of the word 'treachery' but I was about to learn it real fast.

 

And it was gonna be a tough lesson at that.

 

I told Saavu that I had lots more information... and I told him I'd get back to him.

 

There were about six or seven more phone calls and I just couldn't understand why the guy from the IEPA was seeming to defend what these guys were doing.

 

Even I knew it was fucking murder... but Saavu just seemed to keep brushing it off.

 

I couldn't understand it.

 

The very last time I called the IEPA I was starting to get frustrated and a little pissed off.

 

Imagine calling 911 to tell them your house is on fire and they say 'we don't believe you... call back when you have proof.'

 

Yeah.

 

That's how I was feelin' here.

 

But things were about to take a dramatic turn my friend.

 

A very dark turn.

 

I figured out a few more things... and I thought I'd give Saavu one more call...

 

Maybe there was a little anger in my voice... maybe I sounded different to the receptionist...

 

When I asked for Saavu she said 'hold on a minute Joe.'

 

Joe isn't my name.

 

But it is the name of The Fall Guy... the guy who ran the water operation in town.

 

It also happened to be the name of The Snake... the guy everybody hated... The Old Man's head henchman... the one everybody figured was working with the feds first.

 

I was on hold before I could correct her.

 

When Saavu picked up the phone he sounded almost breathless.

 

'Joe' he said 'that guy keeps calling about the well.'

 

My jaw dropped and the phone fell to the floor.

 

I was scared shitless.

 

This was all getting way too crazy... I mean... it seemed insane is what it seemed.

 

Corruption makes for some strange bedfellows.

 

And you dear reader are the first I'm making this public to.

 

I've never even told the media.

 

I waited almost three years to see what the feds were gonna do.

 

When I realized they weren't going to do anything but indict a couple of lowly water department clerks and that they showed no interest in getting down to the truth about what happened in Deadwood... well... I figured I'd come clean right here to you.

 

I don't want to be the holder of this secret anymore.

 

You're gonna hold it with me.

 

The Illinois EPA was in on it.

 

The Illinois EPA was a part of the coverup.

 

Fucking bastards.

 

I couldn't trust anyone.

  

From the series 'There's Something in the Water' here on Flickr... www.flickr.com/photos/light_seeker/sets/72157627041317913...

I want to thank everyone for the kind words and the vibes today.

 

I swear to gahd I felt them.

 

In the grand scheme of things I only hope that as much as you guys have helped me get through some tough shit...

 

that the images and words that I share with you are repayment in kind of some sort.

 

Because so many have done so much for me.

 

I feel like I owe the universe right now.

 

Things went better than I'd expected today and I'm feeling kinda good for having survived the day with my soul intact.

 

It didn't even get damaged actually.

 

Not a scratch or a dent.

 

I never got mad or felt angry once.

 

I kept reminding myself that the way to get through the toughest times in life is to let your heart be filled with love and light.

 

Here and there I would just visualize this 'love and light' filling the core of my being and it felt so good.

 

It was so warm and it was so bright.

 

It was the shit man.

 

I wish I could do that all of the time.

 

Not just when it's all blowing up around me.

 

I expected some real pain today and the pain never came.

 

There was frustration.

 

But when is there not?

 

To be honest I felt really freakin' good today.

 

I felt really good because I didn't feel 'bad.'

 

I don't know if anyone'll get that but I do.

 

I've got to get out from underneath the weight of these forces that are directing so much of my life so I can live the way that I want to.

 

I think I'll be there soon.

 

I don't like being told what I can or can't say by anyone.

 

The invasiveness of this situation's not cool at all.

 

It's felt like so much of my freedom's been taken away from me for so long.

 

I've been through hell.

 

A hell I couldn't describe to you accurately even if I was allowed to.

 

But slowly, surely...

 

that hell is fading into the past.

 

Every day it is of less and less significance.

 

I've chosen not to give it any more power over my life.

 

I'm gonna get where I gotta be and when I do you're gonna see an absolute explosion of love and light.

 

It feels like it's taken so long...

 

but the truth is coming out as surely as the sun rises each day.

 

And the truth has a power unlike anything in the universe.

 

The truth is the only thing that's real.

 

The things I have learned my friends.

 

The things I have learned.

 

It's my turn to send you some good vibes right now.

 

Kick Back and Listen

     

And Dilip is Back with his Candid series... and this series contains just 1 candid picture... why ? Cuz there is DUST ON MY SENSOR :-(

 

Okay, lets talk about the good part first. I went to the elliots beach after a long time with the camera. I've never used the Bogen tripod here so decided to give it a go. All was well until i noticed after my 5th shot that a hair like object on the frame and i thought it was on the lens filter.

 

Unfortunately it was not. Turning off and on the camera did NOT fix it as the 400D always does it. It cleans the sensor with the built in EOS cleaning system. Nope, this time im nailed to the coffin well and hard.

 

I came home and i tried to clean the sensor with a soft brush and a ear cleaning bud and did not get anywhere. Adding o the misery i released another speck of huge blobby black dust on the frame on the upper right corner.

 

The pleasureable thing is i KNOW its not dust on the sensor becuase all of my pictures are clean! Still i see that blob on the view finder and i know its somewhere in the mirror or elsewhere that is reflecting on the viewfinder.

 

I cleaned the viewfinder and the mirror but im not getting anywhere so i gotta go to the Canon Service Center tomorrow morning.

 

So a great candid series is now a perfect flop with just one picture to post and adding fuel to the fire is the fact that my cousin who lives in the US is coming down this tuesday. She wanted to do a photoshoot and been telling me this for a long time now.

 

Guess what, i dont think im gonna have the camera for the next 10 days at worst! Am i pissed off or what? Tell me about it... Grrr...........!

 

Canon EOS 400D with the Tamron 70 - 300 F/4 - 5.6. Aperture Priority, F/4.5 at 1/320th of a Second, Tripod.

Splitting Up

  

--------

  

Francine & Kumi arrived at the locked purple door. They used the purple key and thankfully, it unlocked.

  

In the room looked like a storage room, with headless statues and boxes full of unknown stuff. Both decided to investigate around the room.

  

"I would love to take this stool.." Francine said while looking at the stool in the room. "But, It looks like it's stuck to the floor..." Kumi gave Francine a weird look and proceeded to look in the boxes.

  

Kumi and Francine decided to look in the opened boxes.

  

"Hmm, Is there anything useful in here?" Francine said while digging around "....Ah!"

  

Francine picked up a palette knife

  

"Maybe this could cut down those vines!"

  

"I don't know, but let's try it."

  

Francine giggled

  

"Ahahaha, I was just kidding. You're not good with jokes, are you, Kumi." Francine then regain herself. "But I'll hold on to this. You know, just in case."

  

They then decided to look for more things that were useful in the boxes

  

"Hmm, I really don't see anything useful. Should we just go back to Vaultor for now?" Francine asked

  

"I think so." Kumi replied. Just then, the lights began to flicker.

  

"Wah! Huh!"

  

Then the lights turned off.

  

"EEEP!" Both girls squealed.

  

The lights then flickered back on again.

  

"That scared me." Francine quivered. Both girls decided to head back to where they came into the room but were stopped when a statue blocked their way.

  

"The exit?!" Francine pointed. "It's blocking the door!"

  

"When did it move? It was against the wall when we came in" Kumi said

  

"Move it, Kumi."

  

Both decided to push it to the wall.

  

"Ready, Heave!" They tried to push it but nothing happened

  

"Pant, No good. It's too heavy." Francine tried to catch her breath

  

"What do we do, Francine? We can't get out!"

  

"It looks like we're going to have to continue on without Vaultor."

  

They headed to the door at the end of the room

  

"Not much else to do but to go this way..." Both opened the door and walked ahead to a brown room.

  

They walked up the stairs and came upon a figure walking in the window.

  

"What was that?" Francine asked quietly. Then a knocking came from the other window across the floor

  

BANG! BANG! BANG!

  

"YIKES!" Francine jumped

  

"Let's keep going!" Kumi pulled her along while she quietly protested

  

They walked down the end of the floor and down the stairs til they heard a sound, a sound that resembled something falling down a flight of stairs.

  

Both girls ran down the stairs to see a ball of red paint smash into the wall, leaving a splatter of red paint.

  

"So that was the noise." Francine rubbed her head.

  

They then walked up the last flight of stairs and came to a hall that ended with a door on the side. On the wall where they were was a picture of a clown(Ebony)

  

"Hmm, She doesn't have any face paint, so why is she named the clown?" Francine thought out loud. Kumi just huffed and continued walking, then a writing appeared on the wall next to her.

  

"I want you to have fun, Kumi"

  

Kumi ignored it and continued walking. Another writing appeared

  

"Come to the fun world without any adults"

  

She then continued walking and two more writings appeared

  

"We'll be together"

  

"You, Me, & Our friends!"

  

Kumi shivered from the writings.

  

"What's wrong, Kumi?" Francine asked worriedly

  

"N-Nothing. C'mon, Let's keep going."

  

They came to a room with a huge hole in the middle.

  

"Oh nice!" Francine placed her hands on her hips. "Now what!"

  

"Hmmm." Kumi thought

  

"Hm, I wonder what Vaultor doing, we kinda left him behind." Francine said

  

---------

  

"....They're taking their time, I wonder if something happened..." Vaultor huffed. "Kumi, Francine, Can you hear me?!"

  

No response

  

"Argh, No good. I knew I shouldn't let them go alone...What to do..." Vaultor looked around and looked at the room with the dolls.

  

"I guess I'll investigate that room again then. As much as I hate going in there..." He said annoyed and walked to the door into the room

  

Inside were many disturbing blue dolls with red eyes. Vaultor just looked around really peeved off about the setting of the room.

  

"No matter how much I look at it, This is NOT cute." He said crossed. He looked around

  

"No notes here, Hm?" He noticed the small shelf on the right of the room could be moved so he shoved it out of the way.

  

"Ah, It moved, How did I not see this sooner. Oh well, at least I can get out this way." Vaultor crawled through the hole to the next room

  

He noticed a writing on the wall when he came into the room and decided to read it

  

"There is no exit. There is no reason."

  

Vaultor looked at it confused. "I wonder that means." Shrugging it off, he looked around the room. Finding a triangular hole on the floor and five cords hanging on the ceiling.

  

Walking up to the five cords, he started on the left and pulled it

  

A hand came out and scratched him which made one petal fall off of his rose.

  

"Damn" He moved to the next one and pulled it.

  

A toxic gas came out instead.

  

"Hack, Cough! What is this." Vaultor coughed. He moved to the next one and pulled it

  

The lights went out

  

"You've gotta be KIDDING! It switches off the power?" He shouted in frustration. But thankfully, the lights came back on

  

"Whew, Thank goodness, I thought it would never come back." He sighed and moved to the fourth one and pulled it

  

---------

  

Where Kumi & Francine were, a painting on the wall began moving down the wall and on to the floor

  

"Kumi look!" Francine pointed at the painting and saw it moving down the floor

  

"I wonder who did that?"

  

"Could it have been a ghost who did it?"

  

Kumi just sighed

  

"We can cross it now!"

  

"Is it safe to cross?" Kumi looked at it

  

"Guess so!" Francine beamed

  

Both walked over the painting which made it spring. Francine giggled and continued walking back to hear it spring back again

  

"Haha, It's so cute!"

  

"Come on, Let's go!" Kumi noticed a triangular shape idol and a box that was moving slightly. She then walked up to the box to inspect it

  

"Um, Kumi. Let's not look in the box." Francine warned

  

"Okay."

  

"What is this?" Francine looked at the strange triangle idol

  

"I don't know, but I think we should push it down the hole."

  

"Why?"

  

Kumi just shrugged and pushed it. Francine decided to help too and soon, the idol fell.

  

"BYE!!!!" Francine waved as it fell

  

----------

  

Vaultor held something fell behind and turned around. It looked like some idol thing that might fit in the triangle shape hole on the floor

  

He then decided to push and then heard a little squeak of a blue doll. Looking to find the noise that was made. It then disappeared and Vaultor decided to keep pushing the idol til it fell into the hole on the floor.

  

When it did, a door behind him opened and he went to go inside.

  

Inside was a long hall way which ended by turning left. But he also noticed a strange blue doll on the floor. Just sitting there, staring back at Vaultor

  

There was a writing on the wall above it.

  

"Hello there, Vaultor. I don't like being alone. Take me with you."

  

Ignoring it, Vaultor turned left continued walking down the hall.

  

The doll then returned sitting there again. Another writing on the wall

  

"Hey, Why aren't you taking me?"

  

He ignored it again and continued walking. The hallway ended by turning right. He was walking along the halls until he ran into the same doll and again, there was a writing on the wall

  

"Why are you ignoring me? Do you hate me?"

  

Getting annoyed, he turned right and continued walking. The same doll appeared

  

"Hey, play with me! I know lots of fun things we can do!"

  

He kept walking until he turned left at the end of the halls, only to be run into with the same doll AGAIN!

  

"I've got lots of friends too! I'll introduce you!"

  

Vaultor then knew there was just one doll, not tons of the same looking doll, following him. He kept walking and the doll was there in front of him.

  

"Be here forever....."

  

Vaultor reached the end of the halls and turned right to see a doll, and the same disturbing blue doll blocking the door.

  

"How long are you to follow me?" He asked it. "Enough of this! I have no time to be your buddy!"

  

Vaultor moved the doll to the side of the wall

  

"It would be best to not get involved here."

  

He then proceeded to turn the door knob, only for it to be locked. A writing appeared on the wall.

  

T A K E M E

  

Just then, the door unlocked. He went into the door into a purple room. He walked up one corridor until he saw the same doll he saw previously. Again there was writing on the wall.

  

"I'll always be with you. My home is nearby..."

  

Ignoring it, He turned the knob that was beside the doll. It opened and inside was a room with seven pedestals. Three on each side, and one that was in the center of the room.

  

On the wall was a painting palette and a note below. Vaultor read it

  

Collect the seven balls of paint, Then the room will be colored and you will be made.

  

"Balls of paint? I wonder where those are..." Vaultor exited the room and walked to where he just came into the room. He then noticed something yellow. He came up close and saw it was some sort of a yellow paint ball

  

"What's this now. It's soft, but I can feel that I can break it. Perhaps this is a ball of paint?"

  

It then vanished.

  

"Hm? It vanished." Shrugging it off, he looked around. He tried opening the door next to him. it was locked.

  

He then moved on to walking down the halls to find a door on the right side of him when he kept walking, It too was locked. He then noticed the door with a plant symbol on top of it, but it too was locked

  

"How many doors are locked in here?" He sighed

  

He started where he was and saw one door he haven't checked yet, he decided to do so but was ambushed with poisonous gas. It sort of looked like a gas chamber.

  

"Oof! What's with this room!" He covered his mouth.

  

He saw a purple ball of paint and walked to it. But as he did so, one petal fell from his rose. When he arrived to the paint, he only had seven petals left. He picked up the ball of purple paint and it disappeared. He then left the room.

  

When he left the chamber, he only had three petals left. He decided to go see the vase he saw earlier and replenish his rose. Once it grew ten petals again, he smiled in satisfaction

  

---------

  

Kumi & Francine walked off to a narrow hallway. They decided to walk until Francine asked Kumi a question.

  

"Hey Kumi, Can I ask you something?"

  

"What is it, Francine?" Kumi turned around to face Francine

  

"Is Vaultor your dad?"

  

"No..."

  

"Oh, So is your dad somebody else...I see..Is your mom nice, Kumi?"

  

"Yes, she is."

  

"Ah, That's good." Francine smiled. "You want to see your parents again soon, right? I want to get out soon too."

  

Kumi was silent

  

"Hey, Kumi....If only two people could get out of here, then what?"

  

"I'll surrender myself." Kumi declared

  

Francine was shocked at her answer.

  

"Wha! Really Kumi?! But then you'll never meet your parents again! It would be really lonely, you know? Don't say things like that, We'll get out together. I promise!" Francine smiled again which made Kumi smile a little.

  

Both girls continued walking out of the narrow hallways and into a new room.

  

TO BE CONTINUED!

  

---------

  

I didn't want this story to be a lot longer than the others so I decided to stop at a certain spot in this chapter :P

  

SPOILER FOR NEXT CHAPTER - With the trio still split up, they continue to find more clues. But when one starts showing her true side, things don't work out for the best...

 

Painted at Intermedia Arts in 2010. Freestyle. Part of a mini production with Stalk and Waldo. Character by Stalk. The first wall I've painted this year. Keeping with the Old School flavor. Probably by the end of Summer I should be rockin some new styles. Right now, I'm just havin' fun doing what I do best. It's always cool to paint up at I.A. The walls may not be the best but it is the only true Legal wall in the city. All others are a one time only shot. If anyone in the area wants to get down on a wall, hit up thegame@intermediaarts.org and request a space. One thing though, you can't come with some beginner level shit. You gotta rock it right or you get gone over quick. This Saturday they will be having their annual summer kick-off, fundraiser event and BBQ. If your in the Twin Cities and your looking for something to do, stop by. It will be going on from 4-7pm. It should be a good time. The got some of the B-Girl-B girls rocking a wall. I'm sure it will be tight. Hope to see some you out there!

In those stupid cheesy horror movies, there's that stupid cliche of when someone's running from the monster, killer, mutant, whatever, they always trip over nothing. Then you sit there yelling at them for being such a clutz in a time like that. I've done it, too. When I was running from Dionaea, I did exactly that. I was almost out of the park and I tripped on a perfectly flat walkway, right in front of some park memorial. For a split second I thought "maybe he's kinda slow, maybe can get up in time". I should've kept my mouth shut. I roll over and he's standing over me. I start crawling back out of desperation but he grabs with with his tendrils by my arms. He lifts me up like I'm nothing and slams me hard against the monument. His teeth are like a foot away from my face now. His breath....oh God, I've been in morgues that smell worse. There's no signs of his previous humanity anywhere on his face, except for one hazel-colored human eye with just a little bit of skin left around it. All it did was make him that much scarier.

 

"Why'd you gotta be like that, Cutie? I just wanna be with you...."

 

"Let me go, you disgusting freak!!!"

 

"Haaaagggh...that's right, talk mean to me. I like that."

 

"You're not gonna get away with this!! All those people you murdered, you'll pay for it!!"

 

"Y'know what else I like, you sexy little...."

 

Why does he have to talk like that? Seriously, why? It just makes everything more horrifying than it---what's he doing? T-that's his tongue. No, no no no, not the face NOT THE FACE N- AHH, GROSS, EW EW EW EW NO, BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH, GROSS NO NO, STOP. STRANGER DANGER, OH GOD WHY, NO... Oh god don't let this be toxic...

 

"Your skin is so warm. I wonder if you're as warm on the inside, too!"

 

He pulls back one of his arms. Where there should be a hand there's just this horn-stinger thing. By now I'm pretty sure I ruined my costume. I had no idea, I was too shaken up at this point to really tell. Just as he's about to kill me though, a Shuriken stabs into his mossy skin. It lights up before an electric current bursts out and through Dionaea, forcing him to let me go. Took them long enough. I fall to my knees while the stun shuriken is making Dionaea scream. I sit there vigorously wiping my face with the end of my cape. I really need a damp towel right now....

Must've been a hard-ass plank of wood or I've really been underestimating Linda.That swing knocked Merlyn down. It was an opening I couldn't refuse. while we was down, I grab one of the arrows he dropped and slammed it into his knee. The scream of agony was some nice relief from my own. That pissed him off for sure. But if anyone's pissed around here...

 

"J!! Oh god, what happened to you?"

 

"The fuck you think you're doing!?!"

 

"W-what?"

 

"I told you to fucking run!! You'll die here!!"

 

"I-I tried but I just...then I heard an explosion and then--"

 

"God fucking dammit why don't you listen to me!? If something happens to you, I'll..."

 

"J!!!"

 

Lightheaded...losing blood. Forgot about all that. Lost balance, damn near fell on Linda and crushed her. So first i had to get out of here, now I gotta get out of here and make sure this idiot doesn't get killed because she didn't listen to me.... and now i feel horrible for saying that. She did save me....shortly after I saved her. Christ, who's the damsel in distress here? She's even picking me up and propping me up on her. Now we're running through the docks while my vision's getting all blurry. I'm honestly surprised she's able to support my big ass while we've got a pissed-off assassin after us. Speaking of, just felt an arrow wizz by my head. Awesome. he should've got a headshot,though. Something's up. I have Linda turn us around, and sure enough there's Merlyn aiming at us. he fires another arrow but misses again. Right after he falls to the ground on one knee, the other one still stuck with an arrow through it. Yeah, sucks having one of those go right through your bone's don't it you dick? Anyway, his injury was probably what was fucking him up, and now he was pretty much incapacitated. Right next to some conveniently-placed Jerry cans. Gonna test our luck and hope those are full of some flammable shit. Vision's too blurry and i'm far too weak to throw a goddamn paper airplane. Hell, I'm losing consciousness right now. Only one thing left.

 

"Linda..."

 

"W-what?"

 

"on my belt....a knife with an orange bar or something in the handle..."

 

"I see it, what about it?"

 

"It's explosive. push the button on the hilt and you have three seconds."

 

"W-what do you want me to do?"

 

"Those jerry cans next to Merlyn..."

 

"I-I can't throw a knife! There's no way I'll--"

 

"Just chuck it near them...the explosion will do the rest...hurry!"

 

Her hand is shaking. Merlyn's trying to string his bow. He'll probably have a better shot kneeling like that. Linda just chucks the damn knife and it lands perfectly next to the jerry cans. We turn and book it as quick as we can, but the explosion and heat wave hit us the instant we turn. I think everything got brighter before it all got black....

two days left of being an "active" associate for the bank.

 

i'm so over this place it's kinda sad.

 

a part of me, is excited to just bust outta here and be "free" and all that jazz!! another part, is starting to get nervous.

 

am i doing the right thing?

will i regret not looking for an office job sooner?

stuff like that.

 

it warms my heart how so many of my friends and family are being supportive and reminding me that i "got this!" and that i'm "going to do awesome!". it's so nice to get that feedback when i'm in this "what am i doing?" thing. it's good feeling like i'm not alone - yet it's a little nerve-wrecking when i feel those same eyes are on me waiting to see what happens next.

 

do i trust and confide in my skill? yes. aside from those times where the setting and/or elements might not be exactly what i wanted, but absolutely yes. what i worry about is the income. i don't shoot to make a quick buck, but w/o a full-time job to fall back on, income will be something i've got to think about and consider now. and i think that's the part that makes me most anxy.

 

i'm glad that i'm taking the opportunity and in all sense of the saying, running with it. i wouldn't quit on purpose to take on photography full-time, and everyone and their mom has asked ME (like i'm freakin' top management) why wouldn't the bank choose to keep me onboard, over some others that were chosen. it's a mystery. which is why i think it's happening for a reason, even if i don't get it.

 

i'm going to hold on to the fearless part of me, and just go. this life of mine has been bumpy - and some times b/c of decisions i've made. but, in the end it works. somehow, it does. armando reminds me of that when i start to freak about things. and i gotta trust that this will too.

  

oh right, 7 for 50of50

and i had an SB900 w/ a diffuser on the body pointing straight at me. like a noob. :)

Steve Jobs you will be sorely missed...the world lost a pioneer and technological visionary yesterday...but Apple will continue to create innovative products and design some of the best software and hardware for many more generations to come...

 

He brought us the iMac, iPod, iBook, MacBook and the iPhone but I think it is iTunes that turned Apple's fortunes around...cos it revolutionised they way we buy and play downloaded music! Now 10 billion downloads has gotta account for something...amazing feat!

 

In his own words, a very poinant commencement speech to the graduates of Stanford University back in June 2005:

 

"I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

 

The first story is about connecting the dots.

 

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

 

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

 

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

 

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

 

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

 

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

 

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

 

My second story is about love and loss.

 

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

 

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

 

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

 

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

 

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

 

My third story is about death.

 

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

 

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

 

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

 

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

 

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

 

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

 

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

 

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

 

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

 

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

 

Thank you all very much."

  

I just have to say that, when I worked for Apple Computers at their European Headquaters from 1997-1999 in Ziest, Holland...it was by far the best company I have worked for! Everyone was treated equal from the cleaners to the directors...and the working atmosphere was amazing because it made you work harder! I always felt I was wanted and appreciated under any circumstances.

 

This is the company that truly looks after its workforce...

 

This is not my design...but surely is apt under the circumstances! It was created by Jonathan Mak...and I hope he doesn't mind me posting it to Flickr...

I look through the door window hair gel just slammed just, hiding us from the SWAT team storming out of their conference room, yelling and waving theirs fist ins in the air out of brain-dead excitement for their mega-corrupt plans. A SWAT team motivated by nothing but money....well, last time I heard SWAT isn't a great paying job so I can't completely blame them. Still, they're no better than the kind of scumbags they arrest on a daily basis....this is the goddamn GCPD, what was I expecting? Highway patrolmen in Mexico would probably make better cops than these dirty bastards. Hair gel's still holding onto my arm. Looking out the door window even after the SWAT team left the room, and presumably the entire building. Finally, he breaks the silence.

 

"....damn gorillas with body armor, that's all they are. You alright, Linda?"

 

"You're not gonna be if you keep calling me that. And if you don't tell me who the fuck you are."

 

"The threats are getting pretty old already, Linda. Did Jerrick never tell you about me?"

 

"Who. The fuck. Are you?"

 

"That would be a no. Abe Arlington, GCPD Detective. Hopefully you'll come to know me as Azrael."

 

"Abe? You're Abe?"

 

"So he HAS told you about me. Hasn't said enough clearly...."

 

"Wait, you're Azrael? So you were around with J when the Cathedral blew up?"

 

"Well, I wasn't calling myself Azrael then, but yes."

 

"Oh shit....I'm sorry, I--"

 

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Just tell me why you're here and I'll do my best to help you."

 

"I need to get into the national criminal database. There's a computer room around here I need to bust into to get it."

 

"I've got access to both. Probably not a good idea to follow me to it, though. It's on the second floor, room 12G. Meet me down there."

 

...............................................

 

"...you said it wasn't a good idea to follow you, but y'know we're being watched anyway, right?"

 

"The security cams? Yeah, but Dave in security's never awake at this time, lazy idiot. Dunno how he got hired. And even then I'll just take care of the recordings myself. They don't even come with audio. Don't worry."

 

"...so this is the server room. Not alot in it as I thought there's be."

 

"The bulk of the data banks is stored in the sublevels down below. This is just where we access and manage everything. If you tried hacking this you'd have to go down there, do alot of manual work and try to go through the ridiculous security we got placed down there which you don't wanna do unless you want every Fed in the state on you."

 

"...So that's why the security up here is crap. All the budget went to a bunch of computers in the basement."

 

"After someone broke into both here and the data banks below we went insane on security. Little did we know he was just making our lives easier. Now we've got a spotlight with his logo on it upstairs. I can just access and upload whatever you need here since I've got all the necessary clearance. What are you looking for?"

 

"Bane and anyone even loosely connected to him."

 

"Bane? There's probably an entire server on him. Didn't Jerrick kill him already, though?"

 

"There's someone else in town flying Bane's colors and leading his old crew. And he's after me and J. Apparently he put a bounty on us and those SWAT morons are going for it."

 

"That's not surprising. Branden may be gone, but SWAT pretty much stayed the same even after Gordon did everything to wipe the GCPD clean. I'd give you two some help, but I've got my own problems do deal with."

 

"Bane's got beef with us anyway. You shouldn't get involved."

 

"Understandable. Anyway, just pulled up everything you need on Bane. You got anything I can upload this on?"

 

I hand him a 1 terabyte portable harddrive. He takes it, connects it do the massive computer bank, and starts uploading. We both stand there in silence again. me looking around the room and him watching the computer. Like earlier though, he breaks the silence again.

 

"So...not really my business or anything, can I ask you something?"

 

"What's up?"

 

"Why did you decide to do this?"

 

"Do what?"

 

"This, right here. This isn't exactly the safest way to spend your nights."

 

He's making my life a helluva lot easier right now. I owe him, I guess.

 

"....for as long as I can remember I've always been scared....and weak. The bravest thing I ever did before this was talk to J to get my job. I got so sick and tired of it..."

 

"So you became something everyone feared."

 

"You're good."

 

"It's my job. I'm a Detective. There's a lot a danger to this life, y'know. You can do everything to hide your face and yet people you care for can still get hurt. You can still get hurt."

 

"J's already given me this speech."

 

"Well, he just cares. I wouldn't think he'd wanna lose you anytime soon. Honestly never thought he'd have someone."

 

"Me neither...."

 

"....Done. Everything you'd ever want to know about Bane's on that hard drive."

 

"Thanks. And, uh...sorry about earlier."

 

"Like I said. Not a problem."

 

*KNOCKKNOCK*

 

"SWAT team, open the door! You have to the count of three!

 

"...really?"

 

"Shit, they might know. Uh....that vent, I think I leads right outside. Go, hurry!"

 

Following Abe's advice, I take the hard drive and open the vent. I crawl through and it and luckily he was right. It leads right outside. I run into the parking lot and call the Sky Slayer down to pick me up. Gotta say, it's nice to know there's at least one cop in this city I can respect...

 

"So, why all the dogs?"

 

"Rescue dogs. Some cats around here, too."

 

"Must be a pain in the ass to clean up."

 

"Nah. They know better...."

 

"Heh....."

 

Well, Abe loves the new duds with the memory cloth shit and all that. But a visit to Patton Arms wasn't the only reason I called him up. After Patton's place, Mike took off, possibly more Az stuff, slaying people and going on about how he doesn't deserve this and that. Seriously, that shit's getting old. Especially after I gave him the computer. But enough of that. The point is,Abe's in my house now, all my hounds...er...hounding him. They love visitors, what can I say. But I had questions to ask him. After that whole Scarecrow thing, I had big questions.

 

"Sooo, Jerrick. Your house is nice and all, and some of dogs are freaking adorable, but why am I here. I got a wife and kid, y'know."

 

"Yeah, Ive met them. Your boy still flipping out?"

 

"Haha, no, luckily. Didn't hear the end of it for days. 'Jerrick freaking Davao, dad! The undefeated champ!' Ah man..."

 

"Still, enough about him. Being the bigshot detective and all, I'd image you'd know what happened to Scarecrow, right?"

 

"Yeah. Some patrolmen found him washed up by the reservoir. Guy was busted up. Still in comatose."

 

"Comatose!? Fucking hell...I broke his arm and leg, dammit! He should be dead...."

 

"Oh, so that was your doing? Pretty mild for you, gotta admit."

 

"Next time,I'll literally feed him his entrails."

 

"Gross. So what'd he do to piss you off. Well, beside being a supervillain."

 

"I found him at the Harbor, about to rip him apart. he got me with some of his gas and made me fall of the deck."

 

"Yikes. Can see why you busted him up like that."

 

"Oh no, that's not even the start! That begins....in my head."

 

"....what?...."

 

"I found myself waking up on a twisted street, no armor and just a small knife, like this one of the cabinet here. I see my house by the street and walk in. Everything inside is just as twisted and distorted. Like a damned acid trip. In the kitchen was...well, it's hard to explain. It was me, but it wasn't Basically, what if I was a lawyer, a coward, and not a vigilante? You get what I saw."

 

"That's...messes up."

 

"But it gets worse. After he stopped pissing himself, we got aquanted and explored the city. You think Gotham's fucked up now? Should've seen what I saw. The other Jerrick, "weak Jerrick' as I said, told me the story of a viscous monster that murdered criminals, common thieves to hardcore murderers."

 

"Lemme guess; Bloodfall?"

 

"Yep. And then after witnessing a kid who stole from weak Jerrick get killed, I met him. It's...it's still clear in my head. The thing had to be at least 8-10 feet tall. The noises it made weren't even human. A trail of gore was left from wherever it had been. It's blade was a big as I am, and drenched in blood like it's hands."

 

"Damn..."

 

"Surprised I was able to beat it. When it dies, there was nothing but fire and a pile of entrails. Even for me, it was a bit much. But something stayed with me....all I could keep wondering was if that what everyone say me as. Not just the scum I kill, but innocents alike. Am I really that much of a monster?"

 

"......"

 

"I've been doing this Bloodfall thing for a while, Abe. Probably when you were an officer. And I've ran from the cops before. Tell me...did you even see me when I was in the armor while you were an officer?"

 

"Yeah, actually. About 8 years ago, I think. Still remember the scene in my head, though...."

 

"What did you see?"

 

"It was horrible...after it was over and we cleaned up the mess, the guys in the forensics couldn't I.D the bodies they were so mutilated. Think I puked, truth be told..."

 

"But me! You saw me, right? What...what did I look like to you? What did you think?"

 

"Nah, we don't need this. I don't think you'd like what you'd hear anyway."

 

"No! Fucking tell me! I--I have to know!"

 

"Not gonna lie....I was terrified. By the time we saw you, the guy you were dealing with stopped screaming. Another officer's flashlight hit you, and I saw something straight out of a horror story. You where way bigger than all of us. Well, you still are, but with that armor...blood splatter all over you, the mutilated remains of the scumbag at your feet. But your eyes. Those insane red eyes. I'm used to seeing them now, but the first time I saw them, all I can remember was feeling terror. I think I emptied my sidearm's mag..."

 

"Go on..."

 

"When it was over and you lost us, I was still a bit shaky. I learned monsters where real that day. I wondered how anyone could possibly think of you as a hero..."

 

"......"

 

"I'm....I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be. You're sorta right."

 

"Nah, man. Look. I've been on the force for about a decade. my encounter with you was stupid early. Over the years, I learned something. In this city, there are FAR worse things than you. Actual monsters."

 

"What does that make me, then?"

 

"One of the few guys with the balls big enough to truly deal with some of these monsters. Still not a fan of how you do the dealing, but still. With the stuff I've seen, what you do is sometimes just necessary."

 

"But...You're just one guy. What about other non-shitstains? They see me all the same."

 

"Not true. You've got supporters. Alot, actually. Another thing Ive encountered over this glamorous career of mine."

 

"....for real?"

 

"Yeah! And y'know what? I am too."

 

" Aw, man..."

 

"No, really! Like I said, I think you have a bit too much fun here and there, but seriously, what you do gets the job done and gets the point across. The police have been trying to do that for years. You're just one guy and you do that no problem."

 

"Yeah, but---"

 

"But nothing! Look, alot of people may not think it, but in a town like this, we need someone like you. Someone to make the losers think twice about crawling out from under whatever god-forsaken rock they came from."

 

"...."

 

"Look, the only people you're truly a monster too are the people you 'deal' with, and rightful so. They should learn there's a punishment for every horrible act they do. And dammit, you're a helluva punishment. As long as we have Bloodfall, the real monster have a very good reason to be afraid. Am I right."

 

"....yeah, you are..."

 

"Damn right I am. Now tonight, you're gonna put that armor on, and put the fear of god into the worse this city has to offer!"

 

"Yes.....yes I am! HehehehHAHAHAHA!!!!"

 

"Uh....don't laugh like that in front of me. You're freaking me out."

 

"Sorry...."

 

Gahd I gotta head back to the 'Park right now.

 

I left my wallet at a pizza place last night.

 

Sooner or later my karmic luck is gonna run out on that one.

 

But last night when I realized that I didn't have it I didn't sweat it.

 

Someone asked me what I was gonna do.

 

'It'll come back' I said 'it always does.'

 

I really believed that.

 

The thing just keeps comin' back.

 

I think I gotta get one of those wallets with a chain on it.

 

Last time I left it on a bar in New Orleans.

 

Got it back there too.

 

This time I left it in a pizza place in Chicago.

 

I'm starting to think that one of these days I'm gonna drop it and someone's gonna pick it up and put a bunch of money in it and return it to me.

 

I don't know why I seem to catch so many lucky breaks.

 

I do know that I've always got to appease the gods of karma after being the beneficiary of such karmic happenstance though.

 

It always makes me feel good to give a little back.

 

I hope you're feelin' good right now.

 

Really good.

 

We gotta help each other out like that.

 

It's what separates us from the animals.

 

You enjoy your evening.

 

I'm gonna go and enjoy my wallet.

 

Good Luck Charm

(Sorry it took so long)

I wish jay would just warm up to Jake already. She acts like he’s the plague or something! I mean he rescued me for Pete’s sake! Without him I probably would have gotten lost or even died.

Anyway, after the dance I headed to my room, stopping a few times to talk to people. You see unlike Jay, I’m an extrovert. I like making friends. I tend to trust people within the hour I meet them.

Then again I’ve never really had social interaction before considering I lived in the woods with my father and sister. Hmmm. Maybe I jumped the gun with trusting Jake.

That’s when I remembered a conversation a had with him that day they found me…

“So, I just curious, not in a morbid way, what was the name of the boy who died?” I had asked him. “Umm… Paul…” he answered while tying up the rest of some supplies. “Okay, one more thing, what happened to his sister?” He froze for a moment, sighed and said, “I don’t know, he never told us. Now can you please go help some of the boys?”

He seemed bothered and annoyed that I had asked these questions. What if Jay was right in not trusting them. What if I just made a major mistake bringing them here.

I need to know. There’s only one way to find out. I will have to spy on them. This should be interesting.

I laid down, and right before I drifted into the land of dreams, I made a plan for spying on Jake and the boys.

The next morning I woke up and got ready. I put a mini notebook, a pen, and my phone into my pockets. Then I headed to breakfast where I would start my investigation.

Like always, I found and sat next to Jay. She looked perplexed. “Whatcha thinking about?” I asked her. “How did some of the boys ended with Jake…”

“Really? Jay it’s kinda creepy to be thinking about him 24/7.” Well, now I feel awkward yes, but I need her to stay away, if Jake is dangerous, it’s for her own protection.

Of course Jake had to pick this moment to sit down next to me. “Hey guys, how you doing?” he questioned us. “Why aren’t you sitting you your pack?” Jay shot back. “Because even I need a break from them every once in awhile,” he said evenly.

They stared at each other for a good long moment before starting to eat. The table was quiet. As I listening to hum of others talking and eating I tried to think of something to say.

A moment later Jay stood up and left the table. She must be really agitated because she didn’t even say bye to me.

“Sooo… any plans for today?” I asked him, hoping I seem casual. “Just hanging out, might take another look around the ware in the afternoon. Why?” he replied. “Just curious…” I mumbled.

Soon after that Jay left, than Jake. I waited 10 minutes and then headed after Jake.

I headed towards his room. On the way there I noticed the walls. They were painted to look like flames. I fingered the paint as I walked by.

I reached the corner by his doorway. It was open. I could hear voices from inside. I pulled out my phone and started recording.

“Did you notice how weird Dale was acting at breakfast?” said a voice (Brain, I think). “Not really, I was too busy enjoying Jay’s uncomfortableness.” Replied Jake.

They laugh. “Do you think he’s catching on?” questions Brian. “No, he’s too stupid.” Jake says hauntingly. They laugh once more.

“But what if he does? What would we do?” Brian asks. “Simple, we’ll deal with it. We move swiftly, and get the job done.”

That’s when I hear then getting up and moving towards the hall. I rush to put up my phone and act like I just walked down the hallway. “Oh, hey guys!” I say a little too cheerfully. They give each other a look and then reply.

“Hey Dale, what’s up?” Jake replies smoothly. “N-n-nothing much” I stutter. Jake and Brian share another look.

“Well, gotta go.” I croaked. I went to turn around when Jake grabbed my shoulder. “Everything okay?” he questions suspiciously. “Yup. totally fine.” I turned and rush down the hall.

It’s not until I reach my room that I realize that Jay was right. Jake CANNOT be trusted. They’re planning something. What’s worse is that they sound like they’ll stop at nothing to get it done.

Everyone is at risk. Especially since Jake has his boys who do his bidding at the flick of his finger.

I need to warn someone. But that might put Jay at risk even more if they find that I know something and told. Besides all I know is that they're planning something and they think I don’t suspect anything.

If I told anyone it’d be his word against me. No one would believe me. Now I know how Jay feels. This has to be the crappiest situation I’ve ever been in.

I shut my door and listen to the recording again. I squeeze my eyes shut. This cannot be happening to me. Of all people.

I mean my life was perfect and normal as you can get. I’d play with Jay, read, watch TV, get on the internet, and once a month we’d go to the store and get groceries. But then my dad had to ruin it by telling us that we were Type Ones. And now this.

That’s when I feel it. Tears are pouring down my face. I realized that I’m not mad but sad. I’m downright depressed about all of this.

I don’t stop the tears from flowing. I roll over onto my side and think about my life.

After about 15 minutes I sit up and wipe away the traces of tears from my face. I go to the bathroom and clean up.

I have to act like I don’t know anything until I find out more. I look at myself in the mirror and see not someone who’s sad but someone who’s determined to protect his sister.

 

We arrived at Manzhoulli late in the day.

 

We had travelled the last miles of China through the night.

 

The train crossed the border to the Russian side and was pulled into a large shed where I recall it took almost eight hours to lift each car off of the wheels that had carried us from China and place the cars on bogies that would fit the width of the rails in Russia.

 

The place had the feel of a frontier town.

 

Aside from the endless grasslands that spanned from horizon to horizon on the way in to the town itself...it had that gritty, dusty, shitty feel of someplace that existed only because of some circumstance that mandated its existence.

 

I got the feeling that Manzhoulli was the place that they threatened to send misbehaving Siberians to.

 

You'd know you pissed someone off bigtime if you got stationed here.

 

Tumbleweeds wouldn't have been out of place blowing across the road in Manzhoulli.

 

Inside the station was a restaurant where the smugglers who I shared a cabin with treated me to the first real western meal I had eaten in so many months.

 

Beef stroganoff... sweet delight.

 

The creamy stroganoff and the wide noodles were like a beautiful angel dancing a dance of joy on my vagabond tongue.

 

A culinary massage to my homesick taste buds...except for the fact that the heavy metal silverware... something I had not used in many months... it really imparted a sharp metallic taste in my mouth.

 

I finished off the extraordinary meal with chopsticks I had retrieved from my bag...

 

the ones Masami gave to me in Osaka Japan.

 

That I missed Masami I already knew...

 

but eating the stroganoff there in Manzhoulli with the chopsticks she had given me...

 

I felt guilty that I had not been able to give her a proper goodbye.

 

She really deserved it.

 

The woman was never anything but good to me.

 

She always gave more than she took and it always made me want to give her back all I could.

 

I had planned to travel with her during my last week in Japan and talk about the future.

 

When I left the university and had my student visa pulled I wasn't given very much time to get my affairs in order.

 

I wasn't even given twenty four hours to leave.

 

The officials pretty much wanted me at the airport immediately.

 

But I had different plans.

 

I slipped away quietly and told no one.

 

There was no way I was going to tell my parents I had 'left' school and that I needed money for a plane ticket right away.

 

Really that I was expelled.

 

From school and the country.

 

I spent most of the next day coming up with a plan to have my roommate forward my parent's mail to me and from me while I hung out in Australia for the rest of the semester that I was supposed to be a student in Japan.

 

And I didn't feel like seeing the officials change their mind about letting me go.

 

That's why I slept under the bridge in Kyoto that last night and hightailed it out of the port at Osaka on a ship to Shanghai first thing in the morning.

 

But that was all a thousand miles behind me now.

 

I had made it this far...

 

why look back?

 

The only regrets I had were that a wonderful woman and I parted ways with a phone call.

 

Now I stood at the doorstep of the hyphenated land of Eur-Asia... and if it didn't have a hyphen it was at least a hybrid land.

 

It was a middle ground between two worlds.

 

If I looked behind me towards China I was looking at Asia.

 

In front of me stood Eur-Asia.

 

I felt so ready to make passage there.

 

Thoughts about that fight that got me kicked out of Japan entered my head right then.

 

It's kind of what got me here.

 

I had to laugh when I recalled running into the guy's accomplice in Beijing.

 

Actually I didn't run into him at all.

 

I was riding the bus when I saw that motherfucker standing on the sidewalk looking like a lost dog.

 

I jumped off the bus at the next stop and followed him.

 

It was Elan.

 

I was sure of it.

 

The coincidence was unbelievable.

 

He never saw me and I followed him for quite awhile.

 

Only an idiot couldn't tell he was being tailed by a westerner in China.

 

For one... I didn't have black hair and secondly... I was about a foot taller than everyone else.

 

Elan was that idiot.

 

Before long I found out where he was staying.

 

There was a tiny cafe right there... I think it was called 'The Pink House.'

 

I sat there and drank a beer or two and tried to figure out the best way to nail the guy.

 

That prick was gonna get a smackdown.

 

In a lot of ways it wasn't even my battle or my anger that made me want to do it.

 

It was what he and his buddy did to my friend Joel.

 

The guy who was there for me at the Pig & The Whistle when I was pushed into the backroom with the sharp edge of a Yakuza's knife pushing into my throat.

 

We took turns saving each others asses there it seemed.

 

Not only did Joel extricate me from a situation where a very sharp knife was pressed into my jugular...

 

he had the steadiness and presence of mind to grab my passport off of the table after he pushed those guys off of me.

 

He surprised the fuck out of them.

 

I didn't know a whole lot of Japanese at the time.

 

Certainly not enough to beg for my life.

 

But that shit was serious.

 

When the guy with a blade pressed into your throat tells his buddy to go and find a mop...

 

well... I'm pretty sure that shit's serious.

 

I felt bad that my mom would be getting a call from some low level State Department official asking where she wanted my body shipped to.

 

Because I got killed in some dive bar in Japan.

 

I couldn't even move the way that guy had that knife on me.

 

I've never felt so powerless.

 

I knew from the way that he'd handled the situation that it wasn't the first time he'd cut someone's throat.

 

That I got out of that one with my life was just another blessing.

 

That Joel grabbed my passport was quite a pleasant bonus.

 

We ran from there out a fire exit... down the fire escape... laughing so hard we could barely keep running.

 

It was my closest call.

 

I always got on Joel's case about not grabbing my thirty thousand yen off that table too.

 

Dude saved my life, grabbed my passport off the table... but he left my thirty grand in yen right there.

 

Whenever I brought that up Joel would double think clinking my glass in the toast we would inevitably be about to make and then give me a dumb look.

 

He hated when I bugged him about not picking up that thirty thoudsand yen.

 

But I saved his ass a time or two in repayment.

 

What those guys did to Joel was something so cruel and inhuman that I suppose it would be traumatic for us both if I accurately painted that moment here in words.

 

There aren't many experiences in my life I'd prefer not to talk about but what they did to him that night is definitely one of them.

 

Suffice it to say that my plan to kill Elan was not hatched so much in anger or revenge.

 

It was just that I supposed... no I knew... that the world and all of humanity would be a better place without scum like him intertwining paths with us.

 

We'd all be better off without him.

 

It was only weeks ago that I fought with his buddy in that hallway... slipping in his blood all over the ceramic tile in my bare feet after I'd stabbed him with that Asahi bottle.

 

I'll never forget the surprised look on his face when I plunged the jagged glass beer bottle right into his gut so hard you could hear the glass crunch off of it.

 

You can't imagine how slippery blood is until you're trying to kill someone in a puddle of it in your bare feet.

 

And you can't imagine the bizarre feeling of 'waking up' with your hands around a masked intruder while you're punching 'the mask' in the face.

 

To go from a deep sleep to killin' a guy in less than a minute is a pretty disturbing experience I'd wish on no one.

 

It kinda felt like a bad dream.

 

Confused the hell out of me really.

 

When you wake up tryin' to kill someone you go through this phase where you ask yourself 'what the fuck is going on and why am I trying to kill this guy?'

 

But then you come to your senses when you realize that you were just woken up in your bed and the asshole in the mask is obviously up to no good and you gotta believe that whatever reason you've all the sudden got for killin' the guy is a good reason.

 

I don't think I slept too well for a few years after that.

 

And now I just happen to run into the guy's partner on the street in China.

 

Obviously there was some unfinished business that had to be taken care of.

 

I wanted to be sure that as Elan started his walk on the path to hell that he knew... that he was absolutely certain that it was me that helped him take the first step.

 

I wanted to remind him to 'say hello to Satan for me.'

 

I wanted that prick to see me laughing over him as he drew his last breath.

 

I know that the university officials and even the police quietly agreed with me tryin' to kill his partner back in Japan.

 

That's why I wasn't sitting in jail right now in Osaka.

 

They saw the honor in what I did that night.

 

When the police arrived on the scene there was so much blood on the floor that someone said that their first question was 'where is the body.'

 

There was so much blood on the floor and the walls that they didn't think anyone could have survived that.

 

Man it was a bloody scene.

 

I remember almost laughing as we fought there in that darkened hallway in Osaka... slipping in the blood in our bare feet... slicker than oil on polished marble I'll tell you.

 

It was almost funny... like jello wrestling or something.

 

One guy trying to kill... one guy really trying to avoid being killed.

 

And both of them slipping and sliding in all of that blood... it's probably what saved us both.

 

That neither one of us could throw or land a good punch or jab on the slickened slip and slide of warm blood on the hallway floor there.

 

Now I had my eyes on Elan.

 

The score had to be settled... the karmic books balanced.

 

Each evening Elan would ride his rented bicycle past the cafe just after seven.

 

On the night my train was to leave for Russia at a little after eight in the evening, Elan was going to be riding straight into the biggest smackdown of his life.

 

The last smackdown of his life if I had my way.

 

I had a feeling that destiny, after all, was on my side.

 

The guy really deserved what was coming.

 

I had never planned such a thing before.

 

The fight in Osaka was a moment of passion... there was no planning that kind of thing.

 

It was different.

 

I never asked for it and it happened and I dealt with it.

 

I did what I had to do and I'd do the same thing all over again given the same situation.

 

Planning this was different though.

 

I think everyone should plan at least one really good assassination in their lives.

 

You learn a lot about yourself.

 

It's really a giant exercise in looking within the human being that you are.

 

You get to see a part of yourself you pretty much never knew existed.

 

A part of you that under normal circumstances you would never be acquainted with...

 

and although it's frightening it's amazingly self intimate.

 

You'll walk away knowing a lot more about yourself that's for sure.

 

That was the plan... to kill Elan at the Pink House... finish the last sips of my beer... leave a really nice tip...

 

because I think it would be important to leave a really nice tip if you leave a body for someone to cleanup.

 

And then walk to the train station where I would in minutes be on my way to the Russian border.

 

No one would have even stopped me.

 

I imagined they'd just stare at his body while I walked away.

 

That night I sat at the table... I was remarkably calm for what I was about to do... I remember that most of all.

 

My mind was easy.

 

My senses were all heightened no doubt.

 

There was no nervousness though... not even jitters which suprised me... maybe because I had gone over it again and again in my head.

 

I enjoyed the sounds of the capitol city and the Tsing Tao beer I was drinking.

 

The sun was about to set... lighting up the polluted Beijing sky in that thick orange way...

 

and I watched for the first sign of Elan riding his bicycle towards me.

 

This time I wouldn't fail.

 

Elan was about to go down... the hard way.

 

"Meetchermakermotherfucker!"

 

Unfortunately at the moment, and fortunately as the wisdom of time has crept by, that asshole never showed up to get his punishment at the Pink House Cafe.

 

I never got a chance to send his ass straight to hell.

 

But God knows I wanted to.

 

With the benefit of eighteen years having passed by I can honestly say that it is a blessing and a miracle that on that night, Elan never rode his bicycle by the table where I sat at the Pink House Cafe.

 

Whichever way he turned in life that day... it was definitely the right way.

 

I know that if he did ride by that cafe, two lives at least would have turned out differently.

 

Forever and permanently altered.

 

We both lucked out it seemed.

 

It turned into just another thing to put behind me.

 

That and a lot of miles.

 

After that meal at the Manzhoulli station...

 

which seemed to have been offered to me only so that the smugglers could keep their eyes on me and protect their mysterious 'stash'...

 

I sat out in front of the station with Sergei and he and I shot the shit.

 

Sergei the 'just bribed border official.'

 

Who took long draws on his harsh smelling Russian cigarette and shot meaningful questions at me about life in America and the nature of the relationship between our countries in between hits.

 

I couldn't tell if he was sizing me up for something... paying a little extra special attention.

 

'Givin' me a little scrutin'" as we say in the Windy City.

 

Sergei and I both agreed that it was all bullshit the way our nations behaved towards each other's and we concluded that he and I were just like each other...

 

that we really just wanted to live our lives and dream our dreams and not worry about one nation or the other nuking us and our families out of existence.

 

It's funny how two regular guys can come together and solve the world's problems.

 

Sergei never mentioned at all the bribe or inquired about what it was paid to protect.

 

It was a done deal.

 

Finished business.

 

It seemed to me after a while to be 'the Russian Way.'

 

Almost like it really would have been rude of him to actually ask what it was he just took a bribe to allow into his country.

 

This building in the frontier town of Manzhoulli at the Chinese border just miles east of Mongolia was the place that welcomed me to what was then the Soviet Union...

 

supposedly as Ronald Reagan called it... a part of the 'Evil Empire.'

 

I don't know much about the empire... but the people I met there were some of the kindest most wonderful and warm people on the planet.

 

No wrong or harm was ever done to me in my travels there.

 

The service sucked... but that my friend is what the Russia of 1990 was all about.

 

A crumbling empire and a people who smelled opportunity and change on the wind.

 

You could see it.

 

You could feel it.

 

You could smell it.

 

And the stroganoff... that stroganoff was my culinary welcome back into the western world.

 

It was the first taste of home in so long.

 

That stroganoff... it was the strong and hearty embrace of a wonderful friend I had not seen in the longest time.

 

That stroganoff was a milestone... the stroganoff was a sign that I had made it... halfway.

 

Halfway around the world.

 

It seemed like Manzhouli was that place... the place where I went from each step taking me a step further away from home to each step taking me a step closer to home.

 

That stroganoff was indeed the epicurean point where I'd felt like I was just a bit closer to home too.

 

The place youth made me run from, a newly earned maturity made me miss... the place my stomach missed the most.

 

Manzhoulli's stroganoff... that was the most memorable meal I swear I'll have ever had the pleasure to eat.

 

The sweet cream settled into my stomach like a warm velveteen ball of lead.

 

My digestive system was no longer used to its dreamy lactose heaviness.

 

How many months had it been since I had even had a glass of milk?

 

Asians didn't seem to have much love for the bovine delicacies... I had missed the milk... the cream in dishes like the stroganoff... and especially cheese.

 

I don't think I ever saw cheese in China... I bought some once in Japan to make a cheeseburger with.

 

I think I dreamed of cheese a couple of times.

 

The Japanese told me that they had a nickname for people like me...

 

they called us the "butter people" or often "the big nosed butter people."

 

They say that to them... westerners smell like butter.

 

It is because of the amount of dairy that we east supposedly.

 

It oozes from all of our pores and it's carried on our breath.

 

I know it to be true because after some months of living among "the fish people" as I thought of them... for the same reasons they called me one of the "butter people"...

 

I noticed that If there was a fresh westerner on a subway car... I got all hungry and reminiscent of the delicacies of dairy that were celebrated daily in my homeland.

 

I couldn't wait to hit Paris and score myself a backpack full of cheese.

Two weeks since we lost our costumes. I've been outside, but I feel like I haven't seen the sun in days. We still go to school, but everything from the night before pretty much drains us. Study hall is the only time we get to catch up on sleep. And when the final bell rings, we don't get some spare time, or see our friends. We just head straight back to the cave for more of Bruce's training...or torture. Tim told me once that his training to become Robin was pretty nasty. I asked him about it again, and he said this was far worse. Everything is sore, I'm always tired, and I'm starting to wonder if this is even worth it anymore. Some of the stuff Bruce has us doing could easily kill us, like the rock pillar hoping he's making us do right now. The worst thing for me, though? I haven't seen Jackie at all these past two weeks. Bruce said he'd handle him, but...what? What's he doing with him? Why can't we just see him? Is he even okay? I gotta know... luckily the end is right there. I can stop looking down, finally. Never liked heights, ironically... wait, what's that noise? Who's coughing?

 

"Tim!!"

 

"*coughcough*...I'm alright...I can...*cough*"

 

"Aw, Tim...Just relax, you're too exhausted..."

 

"Something wrong here?"

 

"Bruce? Where did you?...can we take a break or something? Tim can hardly stand. And I'm really sore..."

 

"Is this too hard for you? Can't take a little work? Get up and keep going. You've got 20 minutes left."

 

"Bruce, this is insane! Tim can hardly breathe he's so overworked! And where's Jackie? I wanna see him..."

 

"This is insane? Do you know how the Spartans trained their soldiers?"

 

"N-no..."

 

"They started training much younger than you. 7-9 years old. Trained to be efficient war machines from then on. One "exercise" of endurance involved taking two trainees and tying them to pillars. A trainer would whip both of them until one passed out from the pain, while family members watched, yelling at them to stay conscious. Wanna know what the loser received?"

 

"Bruce..."

 

"Fine. You both get an hour. Make it count."

 

"Thank you..."

 

"And Steph, stop worrying about Jackie. I can assure you he's fine with me..."

Paul Weisel

10h ·

In May of 2018 I was headed west for my annual visit with Don Edmunds, but took a few side trips before showing up in Oregon. After stopping at the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame in Knoxville, IA to deliver a supply of Don Edmunds' books, I veered north to I-90 and my first visit to Mount Rushmore. An early Friday morning arrival made a stop at the speedway in Sheridan, WY an easy addition to my route. On Saturday I said a final goodbye to Rocky Mountain Raceway in Salt Lake City and chalked up both their figure 8 course and the infield course used by their 4-cylinder division. As I cruised across Nevada, a Sunday afternoon event at the Winnemucca Regional Raceway was the cherry on top of four new tracks in the western states.

Monday was spent chasing vintage sprint car tires for our low-bar Edmunds sprinter project around the Ukiah, CA area and the slow day allowed me catch my breath for a first ever visit to San Francisco. On Tuesday morning I headed south on CA-101 to cross the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco. 'Why in the world would you want to drive into San Francisco?' you ask. There's only one reason – Norm Rapp. Norm was 91 years young, a midget racer of note, a multi-time winner indoors at the Oakland Coliseum, a purveyor of race car parts for at least the past 60 plus years, and a recent inductee into the National Midget Hall of Fame. Norm has been instrumental in finding parts for several of our midget restorations, I've spoken to him numerous times on the phone, but we'd never met! Upon my arrival at 5 Cordova Street, Norm Rapp Racing's World Headquarters, Norm jumped into my van and we went for breakfast at the Bayside Cafe, where it appeared Norm was revered as their favorite patron. Great view of the bay and I was able to cruise past the Cow Palace on the way back to Norm Rapp Racing. After an afternoon of spending money with Norm (he even had a used Goodyear pavement sprint car right rear tire), I headed north, hoping to escape the San Francisco traffic mess before things really got sporty at rush hour.

Unfortunately, Norm left us on December 28, 2019 at age 92 and I will be eternally grateful I took the time to visit with him at his place of business and spend some quality time with a true icon of the sport of midget racing. When the phone rang at Norm's business, a former grocery store on Cordova Street where Norm ran his business since 1961, you never had to wonder if Norm was 'in'. If the guy on the other end of the phone answered with, 'Zoom, zoom!', you were talking to Norm.

We both sold Firestone tires, so we always had something in common and we'd talk once, maybe twice, a year – always phone time well spent. When I needed a Casale rear end for the restoration of Don Edmunds' personal Kurtis-Kraft, I called Norm. Shockingly, he said he had two! He asked if I was familiar with the term 'butted' (indoor racers in particular often shortened the rear axles of their cars – narrow holes, narrow cars) and I replied, 'Yes, it means I want to hear about rear end #2.' The second rear was built in October, 1947 and was perfect for a midget built by Kurtis in 1948. Always the kidder, Norm added, 'I hear you drove race cars back east, so I'd better shim the ring and pinion and put it together for you before we ship it. Edmunds always said, 'Race drivers have to be smart enough to operate a race car ---- and just dumb enough to climb in it.' So, I took Norm up on his gracious offer and the rear arrived in two pieces. All I had to do was to was put the axle and ring gear into the rear and tighten the side plates. Everything was shimmed to perfection. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to impress my good pal, Ronnie Dunstan, I told him I had just assembled this Casale rear (and I had) and asked if he'd stop by to check the lash and see if everything was OK. Dunstan was impressed when he worked the axle back and forth – the rear was right and tight! If he's been walking around the last few years thinking I might have some mechanical ability – good! Norm even had a laugh when I told him about it.

A few days ago I read an interview with Norm by Saroyan Humphrey for Rust Magazine and Rust Media and thought it was the perfect insight to Norm Rapp. Photos included from the article are identified and I'd like to find a few more articles and interviews from these folks.

Rust Magazine, Q&A w. Norm 'Zoom Zoom' Rapp, 91 year-old racer and businessman remembers driving, wrenching with George Bignotti, and growing up in San Francisco.

TEXT – PHOTOS SAROYAN HUMPHREY

Feature: Norm Rapp has been inactive as a midget driver since 1967, but has owned and managed his racing supply business since he started it from the basement of his house in 1953. Until recently he was still selling vintage midget and sprint car parts, including tires and wheels. Along with parts, Rapp also supplied Northern California speedways with racing fuel for decades.

Norm was born in 1927 in San Francisco and was raised across the street from what would become his current race shop. Rapp's father, Gene, was also involved in automobiles, mechanics and racing. Several years before Norm was born, Gene raced a big car – a flathead 'T' – at San Jose and San Luis Obispo. He found success, winning a main event that summer at the .625-mile San Jose Fairgrounds track, but a crash, where he was knocked unconscious for over a week, ended his career in 1923. Still, it didn't end his enthusiasm for racing and the automobile, as he continued to attend races in the Bay Area with his infant son, Norm, in tow. In 1936 the elder Rapp also opened a Nash dealership in San Francisco's Mission District, a place Norm would work as a mechanic a few years later.

After World War II, as midget racing continued to grow in popularity across the United States, Norm began driving a Drake (Harley Davidson-powered) midget in training races in 1948 at the long-gone Bayshore Stadium in South San Francisco. In ’49, Rapp competed in his first full season of professional competition, and by ’51, the driver won his first main event at a quarter-mile dirt track in Marysville, Calif. Norm continued to hone his driving skills and would eventually win 40 main events—on both dirt and pavement—during his driving career. Competing with the BCRA (Bay Cities Racing Association) mostly, Norm also raced at special events across the West Coast and Midwest, often traveling with his father.

In commemoration of his lasting racing career, Norm has been inducted into six halls of fame. From the National Midget Hall of Fame, to Balboa High School in San Francisco, where he shares the honor with George Bignotti, another San Franciscan who graduated from the same school a few years earlier. Besides being neighbors, Bignotti and Rapp became racing comrades, competing in BCRA events early in their careers. Rapp was also part of Bignotti's Indy team in 1956 and helped build the '57 Bowes Seal Fast Specials that went on to finish sixth and 22nd with drivers Johnny Boyd and Fred Agabashian.

Laid-back and still a big kid at heart, Rapp spent a few hours talking about his career and his life as a racer/businessman.

You're one of the few lifetime honorary members of the BCRA. Rapp: Yeah, there's only about six of us. It's quite an honor. There's Johnny Boyd, Fred Agabashian, Boots Archer, Johnny Soares, Sr., and also Floyd Busby. He's the present scorer. Years ago, his father was the scorer when I first started in 1947.

And you were inducted to the National Midget Hall of Fame. Rapp: Yeah, three years ago. They inducted eight of us altogether that day. It was an enjoyable situation. Bobby Unser was there. It was a great day. It was something that I'll always remember. That's my biggest highlight. I'm in there with names like A.J. Foyt, Tony Stewart and all the rest of 'em.

Is being inducted to the halls of fame the best part of getting older? Rapp: Well, yeah; I gotta say, aging is not for sissies.

You were born and grew up here in San Francisco. Rapp: Yeah, in Crocker-Amazon, right next to the Excelsior District, off of Geneva Avenue.

And your dad was a racer? Rapp: Yeah, I'd been going to the races since I was two years old. Before I was born, he was racing. In those days they called them big cars, where now you call 'em sprint cars. He just raced for a couple of years and then he got hurt really bad at San Jose Fairgrounds in 1923. So, when he recuperated from the skull fracture, my mother, who then was his girlfriend, sail, “Well, Gene, you have to make the decision, racing, or me....” So he raced once more after that and then retired from racing, but we went to the races to watch and I always begged him to go in the pits and look at the race cars after the race.

In those days racing was so much more dangerous. Rapp: In 1923 they killed six guys at the track (San Jose) in one season. There's a story about how my dad was in the hospital and there was a memorial race for a close friend of his and he came out to the track with a bandaged head and was part of the ceremony.

What other local tracks do you remember going to? Rapp: We used to go to San Francisco Motordrome, which was down on Army Street. I was a young kid, before World War II, I went to Alameda (Neptune Speedway). He took me over there a few times. In those days, you had to take a ferry boat to go across the bay. There was no Bay Bridge (laughing). And there was a mile track over there on Hesperian Boulevard (Oakland Speedway) in Hayward. It was well-known in those days, before World War II. And then during the war, somebody lit the grandstand on fire, or something, and the property became valuable.

You raced a soap-box derby car when you were a kid. What do you remember about that? Rapp: When I was 11 and 12 years old. That's what I called the start of my career. In my day we didn't have any go-karts, quarter midgets, and things like that. There just the full midget. I raced at Treasure Island (during the World Exposition) in 1940. Chevrolet built this ramp about 75 feet high and you'd tow the car up the ramp. I was fine going down the hill, but when I hit the flat, I didn't have the weight to carry me and so, I lost the heat race by a couple of inches.

Your dad also had a Nash dealership, right? Rapp: Right, from 1936 to 1946. It was between 18th and 19th on Valencia (Street), 740 Valencia. He had a shop as well as sales for the cars. In 1937, he sold 97 Nashes. That was a real good year for Nash. I had a '37 Nash. That was my first car!

Did you work in the shop? Rapp: When I was 14 or 15 years old, after the soap-box derbies. I was working for him, yeah. It was a small business and I was doing the parts work, as well as the lubrication. We had a rack there that we'd put car up on.

You joined the Army Air Corps after high school, right? Rapp: Yeah, when I graduated (in 1944) everybody was patriotic, much more than anytime in my life. So everybody enlisted in one form of service or another. I chose the Army Air Corps because I wanted to fly and the Army was a little easier to get into that the Navy. So, I went down to Market Street and signed up. It took 110 points to go to officer training and I got 125. Since I was still 17 years old, they didn't want to send me to an army specialized training program, so they sent me to Stanford (University) for two terms. After that I went to Biloxi, Miss. To Kessler Field and then to Lowry Field and Buckley Field in Denver, That's how I spent my 28 months total.

What do you remember about living in San Francisco during that time, after Pearl Harbor? Rapp: Neighborhoods were blacked out and the San Francisco Seals used to play baseball only in day games. Everybody had black curtains on their windows; everything was blacked out. We had wardens also, and every block was checked to make sure the windows were sealed. There are still bulkheads out here close to the hospital (points west toward the Pacific Ocean).

How did you get your start driving midgets? Rapp: After I got out of the Army Air Corps, a friend of my dad's got me a job at Pan American Airways (as a mechanic) and one of the mechanics there owned a Drake midget. His name was Larry Christensen and he had Lyle Johnson and some other prominent guys driving for him. He won a feature in '46 or '47. He lived nearby. We got to be good friends and I went to his shop every night, almost, and helped him work on the Drake and in the pits. (George) Bignotti's shop was about a half mile away, too.

I bought a Drake midget in '48 and I had Earl Motter, Dick Strickland, all prominent veteran drivers, drive the car. The way I did it was I let those prominent guys run the car in the program and usually they would have warm-ups and I'd go out and run the first warm-up and they'd run the second warm-up and qualify and race the car. In the middle of the program, they'd have training races and I ran those. I ran 20 training races. In '49, when I first started driving, I turned 10th fastest at Bayshore Stadium and made the main event. After that, I progressed over the years.

I was really hot for the Drake engine and it was the main event winner at different times with Jerry Piper and Bob Barkhimer. It was a Drake engine like Billy Vukovich, Sr. always ran. It accelerated really good. It could beat the Ford V8-60s and it was a cheaper car.

Where was the Bayshore Stadium? Rapp: There used to be a track right next to the Cow Palace that was built in 1934 by some gamblers from Chicago. People don't know about it anymore. The story there is that these gamblers came out here and were going to run greyhound races. So they established this track next to the Cow Palace as well as the one down in Belmont and another across the bay. They had four of them and then (the State of) California says, “We don't want dog racing” for humane reasons. So there was a quarter mile dirt track and along comes December 7th (1941), and the government took over the Cow Palace and all the surrounding area, including the race track, and put all their tanks and trucks and everything else in there. Then after the war, all the vehicles disappeared and left the track. So, in 1946 BCRA came in and ran programs there until 1950, every Friday night. It was called Bayshore Stadium and it had a covered grandstand.

And you expanded your mechanical knowledge at Pan American? Rapp: I worked at Pan American for 10 years altogether, in different shops. I first started out in the wheel and tire shop. Then I was in engine buildup for three years. We'd put the engine on a test stand before they put it in the aircraft. And then I had a chance to go to the parts department, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I spent six years there.

How did you meet George Bignotti? Rapp: George was running the BCRA circuit in 1947, and when I started going to the races with Larry Christensen, I met George. He had a shop at Geneva and Mission and he ran two midgets with Fred Agabashian and Ed Normi driving, running seven days a week (laughs). BCRA was running eight days a week back then (big grin).

Do you remember your first man event victory? Rapp: Yeah, it was at Marysville in 1950. It was a different track than the one that we see now. It was a quarter mile. I started outside front row and Jerry Hill was on the pole. It was a hard, dry track, and there were a lot of prominent drivers there like (Johnny) Boyd, (Johnny) Baldwin and Edgar Elder. Edgar had fast time in a Drake. So, I got a jump on Jerry on the start and I held the lead for 25 laps and won it. Elder had fast time and he was tangling with Boyd and Baldwin and it hit one of 'em and ended up going out through the open pit gate and he just drove right up onto his trailer. He was a great guy.

Was your dad a part of your racing? Rapp: He followed me, but didn't help me. Then after about a year, he said, “I see you're serious, and I'm going to see about buying this Kurtis Ford.” Johnny Smith had driven it to sixth place in (BCRA) point stands the year before in 1947. It was a one year-old car, a Kurtis V8-60, with a spare engine and everything else for $2,000. So he bought it and I sold the Drake. I ran the Ford for three years and I kept paying him off and I owned the car when we got done. That was #16. It was really a good way for me to get started.

You traveled to the Midwest to race in '52. You must've been feeling confident with your driving and equipment. Rapp: I hadn't been driving for very long. The story there is, I was kinda depressed because my grandmother, who used to live with us, died. She had taken care of my brother and me when we were young kids, when my mother and father were running the auto shop. It was tough times. And my girlfriend, who later became my wife (Dorothea), decided she didn't want to see me anymore. So I was kinda depressed. I thought, “Heck with it. I'd just like to go the the Midwest and race.” I went by myself, Bignotti tuned my V8-60 and it was outstanding. I didn't have a spare engine, just some extra tires and wheels. But the good thing about the Midwest was that it taught me a lot. I really had to get down to the nitty fritty and learn how to race against those guys and I was running different tracks all the time. Day race, night race......

Midget racing was a big deal at that time. Rapp: It was pretty big, but in '52 back out here, it tapered off a lot. NASCAR came in and Barkhimer was running a lot of (stock car) races at San Jose Speedway and he had a whole bunch of tracks that he was supervising...

Did you like the pavement, or dirt? Rapp: When I first started out, I liked the dirt. You got it sideways, but sometimes I got in trouble, too. But after about 1953, I started learning how to drive better on pavement and be smooth. I got to be quite accomplished. I got second to Parnell Jones at San Jose Speedway in '64, and I'd win a feature here and there. Then I had a good Offy and we really made it perform. For six nights in a row, I had fast time at three different tracks. Two at San Jose, two at Kearney Bowl in Fresno, and two at Stockton. I think I won one, got four seconds and a third. In those days we'd start 18 (in the main event), so, I was coming from last.

The car was #10 and that's why #10 is my favorite number now. It set a mark for me. I put #10 on my recently restored Offy. It was red and yellow. The current car is the same paint job, more or less. It's in my store, ready to run. It's worth 35 grand. It's a Jimmy Davies car. He only built six cars; mine and one in Chicago are the only ones that I know of. It's a historic car. It was just a bunch of parts when I got it, and I put it together gradually over five years. I put a lot of new parts into it, torsion bars and everything else.

You must've had some close calls in your driving days. Rapp: I only spent one night in the hospital. I flipped three and a half times at Sacramento (West Capital Raceway) on the half mile in 1955. I hit a rut. I woke up in the ambulance with my dad. I felt that flip for six months, in different ways. In those days, we didn't have a shoulder harness, we just ran the lap belt and it held me in. In fact, the car was upside down and Walt Faulkner was running fast time in an Offy and he had the high groove and he hit my tail right next to my head in the turn and moved the car a couple feet. It just wasn't my time to go (laughs).....a lot of guys got killed at Capital Speedway.

You weren't spooked? Rapp: No, I was ready to go again. But I remember one guy who crashed at Bayshore Stadium, he hit the light pole outside the track and he never showed up again. In that era, right after World War II, Bay Cities used to lose about two guys a season, plus injuries....Yeah, it was tough, really tough. You had to watch what you were doing.

Tell me about the leather face masks that you developed as a safety device in the 1950s. Rapp: Speedway Motors used to buy 100 at a time. I must've sold four or five hundred. When I first started out, guys used to put a bandana around their neck, but that wouldn't help with the dirt and the rocks. You'd get hit. At first I made my own and developed it from there. There was a lady who was a seamstress at Pan American Airways and she helped.

I made a lot of different models before I produced the one that you see now. For different reasons it had to be improved. I had a company on 9th Street in San Francisco that was a leather company and I had them make 'em for me. They made some dies and they'd punch out the product with the die and sew 'em together per my instructions. It was a beautiful piece. I've seen used ones sell for $150 today (laughs).

You worked for Bignotti in '56 and '57. What do you remember from that time? Rapp: Oh, it was a real exciting experience. I had been to the (Indianapolis Motor) Speedway before it 1949 as a spectator. (In 1957) I was working for the Bowes Seal Fast Specials that Bignotti and Bob Bowes were partners in. I was a mechanic, doing everything. In the first day (of qualifying) Fred (Agabashian) was fourth fastest; (Johnny) Boyd was fifth fastest. They started side by side in the second row. Agabashian might have won the '500', but the fuel tank split. In those days we didn't have bladders and the tank wore and cracked. Agabashian was a really shrewd, great driver. He never acquired the achievements that he could've.

Bignotti was a good friend. I was helping him put the cars together in San Francisco. I was getting parts from Pan American. Pan American was a sponsor, but they didn't know it (laughs). Bolts and nuts, whatever we needed for the Indy cars. Bowes got the cars from Kurtis (-Kraft) and we modified them. That was a good deal. They were beautiful cars for those days. Frank Kurtis was a great craftsman. Bignotti just worked out of his basement, just about a half mile from me.

George was the greatest wrench out of a toolbox. That's the way I put it. Nowadays they have all this tech stuff. It's altogether different. He was the chief mechanic on seven Indy winners with different drivers. Can you imagine? (A.J.) Foyt, (Al) Unser, (Tom) Sneva, (ed. note: also Graham Hill and Gordon Johncock). He made 'em all perform. Nowadays it's so costly.

After Indy, I had to make a big decision in my life: whether I should stay back there (Midwest) and race. My wife said, “We can stay back here, I can get a job anyplace. Don't worry about me.” Bignotti was going to run one of the Seal Fast cars over there at Monza in Italy on the high banks, and I could've gone over there with him. Or I could come home and continue with my part-time business. I had been making a couple hundred a week, or something like that. Not big monoey, but I decided to come home and I made the right decision. In those days there weren't many dealers like there are now.

For seven years I worked out of my basement, and about five or seven others in the neighborhood. I was walking back and forth between all the places all day long. So I decided in 1961 that I should get everything in one place. That's when I acquired the building that I'm in now at 5 Cordova. I leased it for 16 years and bought it for $40,000 (in 1977). It's 3,300 square feet.

It was orifinally a grocery store, right? Rapp: It used to be the independent grocer. The Safeway moved down to Mission Street where they are now with a big parking lot, and the independent moved from my building to the corner. And that's where they still are today with different owners. It's Cordova Market.

It was set up so I could back my truck and trailer in there after a race, with a big, wide doorway and everything else. And that's the way it is today....been there all these years. The house where I was born and raised is right across the street from my store, 329 Rolph. I live up the hill, a half mile, in Southern Hills. My wife and I bought the house there brand new. She died 32 years ago, from cancer. She was a great part of my life, as far as career goes.

Did she go to the races: Rapp: Before we had kids, she went to the races all the time. But I'll tell you, it was 1966 or 1967; I was driving for Emery Graham with a Chevy II. The kids were young and sometimes she'd stay home. So, I came home and the next morning she asks, “How'd you do last night?” And I said, “I did good in the heat race; I got up to second and in the main I got on my head. (She said) “You got on your head?” I hadn't been on my head in like 10 years. So she asked, “What happened?” I said, “Well, a guy screwed up ahead of me and I got over him and hit the fence and bent the car up.”

She wanted to know what I was going to do now and I said, “Well, a bunch of guys are working on the car right now to straighten it out so we can run tonight in Sacramento on the half mile, a 100-lapper.” So, we got a fifth in the 100-lapper (laughs). It thrilled me.

It must've been difficult to run a business and drive at the same time. Rapp: Yeah, I used to look at J.C. Agajanian. He was an owner and a promoter. It was pretty tough. My dad was helping in the shop, at the house, going to all the races and pumping fuel. My wife was doing the books. She was a really sharp bookkeeper. She could take care of anything.

It seems like the 1960s was your peak as a driver. Rapp: I kept winning races into the '60s. I retired in '67. The last main event I won was indoors in '66 in Oakland. I won about 40 main events altogether. Gary Koster and I won the most indoor (BCRA) races. We each won 12.

Did you miss driving when you retired? Rapp: Not too much, because I was still going to the track with my fuel and tire truck. I was busy. I kept going to the track until the last couple of years. I just retired a couple of years ago.

You were dedicated to your job as a supplier. Rapp: At Calistoga I got a hall of fame and it wasn't because I had great achievements there. I got third in the main there one night. I got some other fifth, sixth places, stuff like that. The big thing was I had been hauling fuel and tires there for about 45 years (laughs). We'd bring 15 barrels of fuel for a weekend. Louis (Vermeil) said to me way back in '53, “I'd like you to bring a barrel of fuel with you,” and that's how it got started. I gradually built it up. I had a 1,000 gallon tank and then a 6,000 gallon tank in South San Francisco. A friend of my dad's had an oil company there and they had all these tanks, so I bought a tank. You got a better price when you took big quantities. One year I sold nearly 22,000 gallons of fuel.

To what do you attribute your longevity? Rapp: Take care of the body by eating the right kinds of food and don't eat any junk foods. Stay healthy. When I was running a 50- or 100-lapper, I would exercise every other night before I went to bed. That gave me stamiina.

Racing has been my life. And as the saying goes, “Would you like to live your life over again?” I would. Some people wouldn''t, but I would.

 

Paul Weisel

10h ·

In May of 2018 I was headed west for my annual visit with Don Edmunds, but took a few side trips before showing up in Oregon. After stopping at the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame in Knoxville, IA to deliver a supply of Don Edmunds' books, I veered north to I-90 and my first visit to Mount Rushmore. An early Friday morning arrival made a stop at the speedway in Sheridan, WY an easy addition to my route. On Saturday I said a final goodbye to Rocky Mountain Raceway in Salt Lake City and chalked up both their figure 8 course and the infield course used by their 4-cylinder division. As I cruised across Nevada, a Sunday afternoon event at the Winnemucca Regional Raceway was the cherry on top of four new tracks in the western states.

Monday was spent chasing vintage sprint car tires for our low-bar Edmunds sprinter project around the Ukiah, CA area and the slow day allowed me catch my breath for a first ever visit to San Francisco. On Tuesday morning I headed south on CA-101 to cross the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco. 'Why in the world would you want to drive into San Francisco?' you ask. There's only one reason – Norm Rapp. Norm was 91 years young, a midget racer of note, a multi-time winner indoors at the Oakland Coliseum, a purveyor of race car parts for at least the past 60 plus years, and a recent inductee into the National Midget Hall of Fame. Norm has been instrumental in finding parts for several of our midget restorations, I've spoken to him numerous times on the phone, but we'd never met! Upon my arrival at 5 Cordova Street, Norm Rapp Racing's World Headquarters, Norm jumped into my van and we went for breakfast at the Bayside Cafe, where it appeared Norm was revered as their favorite patron. Great view of the bay and I was able to cruise past the Cow Palace on the way back to Norm Rapp Racing. After an afternoon of spending money with Norm (he even had a used Goodyear pavement sprint car right rear tire), I headed north, hoping to escape the San Francisco traffic mess before things really got sporty at rush hour.

Unfortunately, Norm left us on December 28, 2019 at age 92 and I will be eternally grateful I took the time to visit with him at his place of business and spend some quality time with a true icon of the sport of midget racing. When the phone rang at Norm's business, a former grocery store on Cordova Street where Norm ran his business since 1961, you never had to wonder if Norm was 'in'. If the guy on the other end of the phone answered with, 'Zoom, zoom!', you were talking to Norm.

We both sold Firestone tires, so we always had something in common and we'd talk once, maybe twice, a year – always phone time well spent. When I needed a Casale rear end for the restoration of Don Edmunds' personal Kurtis-Kraft, I called Norm. Shockingly, he said he had two! He asked if I was familiar with the term 'butted' (indoor racers in particular often shortened the rear axles of their cars – narrow holes, narrow cars) and I replied, 'Yes, it means I want to hear about rear end #2.' The second rear was built in October, 1947 and was perfect for a midget built by Kurtis in 1948. Always the kidder, Norm added, 'I hear you drove race cars back east, so I'd better shim the ring and pinion and put it together for you before we ship it. Edmunds always said, 'Race drivers have to be smart enough to operate a race car ---- and just dumb enough to climb in it.' So, I took Norm up on his gracious offer and the rear arrived in two pieces. All I had to do was to was put the axle and ring gear into the rear and tighten the side plates. Everything was shimmed to perfection. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to impress my good pal, Ronnie Dunstan, I told him I had just assembled this Casale rear (and I had) and asked if he'd stop by to check the lash and see if everything was OK. Dunstan was impressed when he worked the axle back and forth – the rear was right and tight! If he's been walking around the last few years thinking I might have some mechanical ability – good! Norm even had a laugh when I told him about it.

A few days ago I read an interview with Norm by Saroyan Humphrey for Rust Magazine and Rust Media and thought it was the perfect insight to Norm Rapp. Photos included from the article are identified and I'd like to find a few more articles and interviews from these folks.

Rust Magazine, Q&A w. Norm 'Zoom Zoom' Rapp, 91 year-old racer and businessman remembers driving, wrenching with George Bignotti, and growing up in San Francisco.

TEXT – PHOTOS SAROYAN HUMPHREY

Feature: Norm Rapp has been inactive as a midget driver since 1967, but has owned and managed his racing supply business since he started it from the basement of his house in 1953. Until recently he was still selling vintage midget and sprint car parts, including tires and wheels. Along with parts, Rapp also supplied Northern California speedways with racing fuel for decades.

Norm was born in 1927 in San Francisco and was raised across the street from what would become his current race shop. Rapp's father, Gene, was also involved in automobiles, mechanics and racing. Several years before Norm was born, Gene raced a big car – a flathead 'T' – at San Jose and San Luis Obispo. He found success, winning a main event that summer at the .625-mile San Jose Fairgrounds track, but a crash, where he was knocked unconscious for over a week, ended his career in 1923. Still, it didn't end his enthusiasm for racing and the automobile, as he continued to attend races in the Bay Area with his infant son, Norm, in tow. In 1936 the elder Rapp also opened a Nash dealership in San Francisco's Mission District, a place Norm would work as a mechanic a few years later.

After World War II, as midget racing continued to grow in popularity across the United States, Norm began driving a Drake (Harley Davidson-powered) midget in training races in 1948 at the long-gone Bayshore Stadium in South San Francisco. In ’49, Rapp competed in his first full season of professional competition, and by ’51, the driver won his first main event at a quarter-mile dirt track in Marysville, Calif. Norm continued to hone his driving skills and would eventually win 40 main events—on both dirt and pavement—during his driving career. Competing with the BCRA (Bay Cities Racing Association) mostly, Norm also raced at special events across the West Coast and Midwest, often traveling with his father.

In commemoration of his lasting racing career, Norm has been inducted into six halls of fame. From the National Midget Hall of Fame, to Balboa High School in San Francisco, where he shares the honor with George Bignotti, another San Franciscan who graduated from the same school a few years earlier. Besides being neighbors, Bignotti and Rapp became racing comrades, competing in BCRA events early in their careers. Rapp was also part of Bignotti's Indy team in 1956 and helped build the '57 Bowes Seal Fast Specials that went on to finish sixth and 22nd with drivers Johnny Boyd and Fred Agabashian.

Laid-back and still a big kid at heart, Rapp spent a few hours talking about his career and his life as a racer/businessman.

You're one of the few lifetime honorary members of the BCRA. Rapp: Yeah, there's only about six of us. It's quite an honor. There's Johnny Boyd, Fred Agabashian, Boots Archer, Johnny Soares, Sr., and also Floyd Busby. He's the present scorer. Years ago, his father was the scorer when I first started in 1947.

And you were inducted to the National Midget Hall of Fame. Rapp: Yeah, three years ago. They inducted eight of us altogether that day. It was an enjoyable situation. Bobby Unser was there. It was a great day. It was something that I'll always remember. That's my biggest highlight. I'm in there with names like A.J. Foyt, Tony Stewart and all the rest of 'em.

Is being inducted to the halls of fame the best part of getting older? Rapp: Well, yeah; I gotta say, aging is not for sissies.

You were born and grew up here in San Francisco. Rapp: Yeah, in Crocker-Amazon, right next to the Excelsior District, off of Geneva Avenue.

And your dad was a racer? Rapp: Yeah, I'd been going to the races since I was two years old. Before I was born, he was racing. In those days they called them big cars, where now you call 'em sprint cars. He just raced for a couple of years and then he got hurt really bad at San Jose Fairgrounds in 1923. So, when he recuperated from the skull fracture, my mother, who then was his girlfriend, sail, “Well, Gene, you have to make the decision, racing, or me....” So he raced once more after that and then retired from racing, but we went to the races to watch and I always begged him to go in the pits and look at the race cars after the race.

In those days racing was so much more dangerous. Rapp: In 1923 they killed six guys at the track (San Jose) in one season. There's a story about how my dad was in the hospital and there was a memorial race for a close friend of his and he came out to the track with a bandaged head and was part of the ceremony.

What other local tracks do you remember going to? Rapp: We used to go to San Francisco Motordrome, which was down on Army Street. I was a young kid, before World War II, I went to Alameda (Neptune Speedway). He took me over there a few times. In those days, you had to take a ferry boat to go across the bay. There was no Bay Bridge (laughing). And there was a mile track over there on Hesperian Boulevard (Oakland Speedway) in Hayward. It was well-known in those days, before World War II. And then during the war, somebody lit the grandstand on fire, or something, and the property became valuable.

You raced a soap-box derby car when you were a kid. What do you remember about that? Rapp: When I was 11 and 12 years old. That's what I called the start of my career. In my day we didn't have any go-karts, quarter midgets, and things like that. There just the full midget. I raced at Treasure Island (during the World Exposition) in 1940. Chevrolet built this ramp about 75 feet high and you'd tow the car up the ramp. I was fine going down the hill, but when I hit the flat, I didn't have the weight to carry me and so, I lost the heat race by a couple of inches.

Your dad also had a Nash dealership, right? Rapp: Right, from 1936 to 1946. It was between 18th and 19th on Valencia (Street), 740 Valencia. He had a shop as well as sales for the cars. In 1937, he sold 97 Nashes. That was a real good year for Nash. I had a '37 Nash. That was my first car!

Did you work in the shop? Rapp: When I was 14 or 15 years old, after the soap-box derbies. I was working for him, yeah. It was a small business and I was doing the parts work, as well as the lubrication. We had a rack there that we'd put car up on.

You joined the Army Air Corps after high school, right? Rapp: Yeah, when I graduated (in 1944) everybody was patriotic, much more than anytime in my life. So everybody enlisted in one form of service or another. I chose the Army Air Corps because I wanted to fly and the Army was a little easier to get into that the Navy. So, I went down to Market Street and signed up. It took 110 points to go to officer training and I got 125. Since I was still 17 years old, they didn't want to send me to an army specialized training program, so they sent me to Stanford (University) for two terms. After that I went to Biloxi, Miss. To Kessler Field and then to Lowry Field and Buckley Field in Denver, That's how I spent my 28 months total.

What do you remember about living in San Francisco during that time, after Pearl Harbor? Rapp: Neighborhoods were blacked out and the San Francisco Seals used to play baseball only in day games. Everybody had black curtains on their windows; everything was blacked out. We had wardens also, and every block was checked to make sure the windows were sealed. There are still bulkheads out here close to the hospital (points west toward the Pacific Ocean).

How did you get your start driving midgets? Rapp: After I got out of the Army Air Corps, a friend of my dad's got me a job at Pan American Airways (as a mechanic) and one of the mechanics there owned a Drake midget. His name was Larry Christensen and he had Lyle Johnson and some other prominent guys driving for him. He won a feature in '46 or '47. He lived nearby. We got to be good friends and I went to his shop every night, almost, and helped him work on the Drake and in the pits. (George) Bignotti's shop was about a half mile away, too.

I bought a Drake midget in '48 and I had Earl Motter, Dick Strickland, all prominent veteran drivers, drive the car. The way I did it was I let those prominent guys run the car in the program and usually they would have warm-ups and I'd go out and run the first warm-up and they'd run the second warm-up and qualify and race the car. In the middle of the program, they'd have training races and I ran those. I ran 20 training races. In '49, when I first started driving, I turned 10th fastest at Bayshore Stadium and made the main event. After that, I progressed over the years.

I was really hot for the Drake engine and it was the main event winner at different times with Jerry Piper and Bob Barkhimer. It was a Drake engine like Billy Vukovich, Sr. always ran. It accelerated really good. It could beat the Ford V8-60s and it was a cheaper car.

Where was the Bayshore Stadium? Rapp: There used to be a track right next to the Cow Palace that was built in 1934 by some gamblers from Chicago. People don't know about it anymore. The story there is that these gamblers came out here and were going to run greyhound races. So they established this track next to the Cow Palace as well as the one down in Belmont and another across the bay. They had four of them and then (the State of) California says, “We don't want dog racing” for humane reasons. So there was a quarter mile dirt track and along comes December 7th (1941), and the government took over the Cow Palace and all the surrounding area, including the race track, and put all their tanks and trucks and everything else in there. Then after the war, all the vehicles disappeared and left the track. So, in 1946 BCRA came in and ran programs there until 1950, every Friday night. It was called Bayshore Stadium and it had a covered grandstand.

And you expanded your mechanical knowledge at Pan American? Rapp: I worked at Pan American for 10 years altogether, in different shops. I first started out in the wheel and tire shop. Then I was in engine buildup for three years. We'd put the engine on a test stand before they put it in the aircraft. And then I had a chance to go to the parts department, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I spent six years there.

How did you meet George Bignotti? Rapp: George was running the BCRA circuit in 1947, and when I started going to the races with Larry Christensen, I met George. He had a shop at Geneva and Mission and he ran two midgets with Fred Agabashian and Ed Normi driving, running seven days a week (laughs). BCRA was running eight days a week back then (big grin).

Do you remember your first man event victory? Rapp: Yeah, it was at Marysville in 1950. It was a different track than the one that we see now. It was a quarter mile. I started outside front row and Jerry Hill was on the pole. It was a hard, dry track, and there were a lot of prominent drivers there like (Johnny) Boyd, (Johnny) Baldwin and Edgar Elder. Edgar had fast time in a Drake. So, I got a jump on Jerry on the start and I held the lead for 25 laps and won it. Elder had fast time and he was tangling with Boyd and Baldwin and it hit one of 'em and ended up going out through the open pit gate and he just drove right up onto his trailer. He was a great guy.

Was your dad a part of your racing? Rapp: He followed me, but didn't help me. Then after about a year, he said, “I see you're serious, and I'm going to see about buying this Kurtis Ford.” Johnny Smith had driven it to sixth place in (BCRA) point stands the year before in 1947. It was a one year-old car, a Kurtis V8-60, with a spare engine and everything else for $2,000. So he bought it and I sold the Drake. I ran the Ford for three years and I kept paying him off and I owned the car when we got done. That was #16. It was really a good way for me to get started.

You traveled to the Midwest to race in '52. You must've been feeling confident with your driving and equipment. Rapp: I hadn't been driving for very long. The story there is, I was kinda depressed because my grandmother, who used to live with us, died. She had taken care of my brother and me when we were young kids, when my mother and father were running the auto shop. It was tough times. And my girlfriend, who later became my wife (Dorothea), decided she didn't want to see me anymore. So I was kinda depressed. I thought, “Heck with it. I'd just like to go the the Midwest and race.” I went by myself, Bignotti tuned my V8-60 and it was outstanding. I didn't have a spare engine, just some extra tires and wheels. But the good thing about the Midwest was that it taught me a lot. I really had to get down to the nitty fritty and learn how to race against those guys and I was running different tracks all the time. Day race, night race......

Midget racing was a big deal at that time. Rapp: It was pretty big, but in '52 back out here, it tapered off a lot. NASCAR came in and Barkhimer was running a lot of (stock car) races at San Jose Speedway and he had a whole bunch of tracks that he was supervising...

Did you like the pavement, or dirt? Rapp: When I first started out, I liked the dirt. You got it sideways, but sometimes I got in trouble, too. But after about 1953, I started learning how to drive better on pavement and be smooth. I got to be quite accomplished. I got second to Parnell Jones at San Jose Speedway in '64, and I'd win a feature here and there. Then I had a good Offy and we really made it perform. For six nights in a row, I had fast time at three different tracks. Two at San Jose, two at Kearney Bowl in Fresno, and two at Stockton. I think I won one, got four seconds and a third. In those days we'd start 18 (in the main event), so, I was coming from last.

The car was #10 and that's why #10 is my favorite number now. It set a mark for me. I put #10 on my recently restored Offy. It was red and yellow. The current car is the same paint job, more or less. It's in my store, ready to run. It's worth 35 grand. It's a Jimmy Davies car. He only built six cars; mine and one in Chicago are the only ones that I know of. It's a historic car. It was just a bunch of parts when I got it, and I put it together gradually over five years. I put a lot of new parts into it, torsion bars and everything else.

You must've had some close calls in your driving days. Rapp: I only spent one night in the hospital. I flipped three and a half times at Sacramento (West Capital Raceway) on the half mile in 1955. I hit a rut. I woke up in the ambulance with my dad. I felt that flip for six months, in different ways. In those days, we didn't have a shoulder harness, we just ran the lap belt and it held me in. In fact, the car was upside down and Walt Faulkner was running fast time in an Offy and he had the high groove and he hit my tail right next to my head in the turn and moved the car a couple feet. It just wasn't my time to go (laughs).....a lot of guys got killed at Capital Speedway.

You weren't spooked? Rapp: No, I was ready to go again. But I remember one guy who crashed at Bayshore Stadium, he hit the light pole outside the track and he never showed up again. In that era, right after World War II, Bay Cities used to lose about two guys a season, plus injuries....Yeah, it was tough, really tough. You had to watch what you were doing.

Tell me about the leather face masks that you developed as a safety device in the 1950s. Rapp: Speedway Motors used to buy 100 at a time. I must've sold four or five hundred. When I first started out, guys used to put a bandana around their neck, but that wouldn't help with the dirt and the rocks. You'd get hit. At first I made my own and developed it from there. There was a lady who was a seamstress at Pan American Airways and she helped.

I made a lot of different models before I produced the one that you see now. For different reasons it had to be improved. I had a company on 9th Street in San Francisco that was a leather company and I had them make 'em for me. They made some dies and they'd punch out the product with the die and sew 'em together per my instructions. It was a beautiful piece. I've seen used ones sell for $150 today (laughs).

You worked for Bignotti in '56 and '57. What do you remember from that time? Rapp: Oh, it was a real exciting experience. I had been to the (Indianapolis Motor) Speedway before it 1949 as a spectator. (In 1957) I was working for the Bowes Seal Fast Specials that Bignotti and Bob Bowes were partners in. I was a mechanic, doing everything. In the first day (of qualifying) Fred (Agabashian) was fourth fastest; (Johnny) Boyd was fifth fastest. They started side by side in the second row. Agabashian might have won the '500', but the fuel tank split. In those days we didn't have bladders and the tank wore and cracked. Agabashian was a really shrewd, great driver. He never acquired the achievements that he could've.

Bignotti was a good friend. I was helping him put the cars together in San Francisco. I was getting parts from Pan American. Pan American was a sponsor, but they didn't know it (laughs). Bolts and nuts, whatever we needed for the Indy cars. Bowes got the cars from Kurtis (-Kraft) and we modified them. That was a good deal. They were beautiful cars for those days. Frank Kurtis was a great craftsman. Bignotti just worked out of his basement, just about a half mile from me.

George was the greatest wrench out of a toolbox. That's the way I put it. Nowadays they have all this tech stuff. It's altogether different. He was the chief mechanic on seven Indy winners with different drivers. Can you imagine? (A.J.) Foyt, (Al) Unser, (Tom) Sneva, (ed. note: also Graham Hill and Gordon Johncock). He made 'em all perform. Nowadays it's so costly.

After Indy, I had to make a big decision in my life: whether I should stay back there (Midwest) and race. My wife said, “We can stay back here, I can get a job anyplace. Don't worry about me.” Bignotti was going to run one of the Seal Fast cars over there at Monza in Italy on the high banks, and I could've gone over there with him. Or I could come home and continue with my part-time business. I had been making a couple hundred a week, or something like that. Not big monoey, but I decided to come home and I made the right decision. In those days there weren't many dealers like there are now.

For seven years I worked out of my basement, and about five or seven others in the neighborhood. I was walking back and forth between all the places all day long. So I decided in 1961 that I should get everything in one place. That's when I acquired the building that I'm in now at 5 Cordova. I leased it for 16 years and bought it for $40,000 (in 1977). It's 3,300 square feet.

It was orifinally a grocery store, right? Rapp: It used to be the independent grocer. The Safeway moved down to Mission Street where they are now with a big parking lot, and the independent moved from my building to the corner. And that's where they still are today with different owners. It's Cordova Market.

It was set up so I could back my truck and trailer in there after a race, with a big, wide doorway and everything else. And that's the way it is today....been there all these years. The house where I was born and raised is right across the street from my store, 329 Rolph. I live up the hill, a half mile, in Southern Hills. My wife and I bought the house there brand new. She died 32 years ago, from cancer. She was a great part of my life, as far as career goes.

Did she go to the races: Rapp: Before we had kids, she went to the races all the time. But I'll tell you, it was 1966 or 1967; I was driving for Emery Graham with a Chevy II. The kids were young and sometimes she'd stay home. So, I came home and the next morning she asks, “How'd you do last night?” And I said, “I did good in the heat race; I got up to second and in the main I got on my head. (She said) “You got on your head?” I hadn't been on my head in like 10 years. So she asked, “What happened?” I said, “Well, a guy screwed up ahead of me and I got over him and hit the fence and bent the car up.”

She wanted to know what I was going to do now and I said, “Well, a bunch of guys are working on the car right now to straighten it out so we can run tonight in Sacramento on the half mile, a 100-lapper.” So, we got a fifth in the 100-lapper (laughs). It thrilled me.

It must've been difficult to run a business and drive at the same time. Rapp: Yeah, I used to look at J.C. Agajanian. He was an owner and a promoter. It was pretty tough. My dad was helping in the shop, at the house, going to all the races and pumping fuel. My wife was doing the books. She was a really sharp bookkeeper. She could take care of anything.

It seems like the 1960s was your peak as a driver. Rapp: I kept winning races into the '60s. I retired in '67. The last main event I won was indoors in '66 in Oakland. I won about 40 main events altogether. Gary Koster and I won the most indoor (BCRA) races. We each won 12.

Did you miss driving when you retired? Rapp: Not too much, because I was still going to the track with my fuel and tire truck. I was busy. I kept going to the track until the last couple of years. I just retired a couple of years ago.

You were dedicated to your job as a supplier. Rapp: At Calistoga I got a hall of fame and it wasn't because I had great achievements there. I got third in the main there one night. I got some other fifth, sixth places, stuff like that. The big thing was I had been hauling fuel and tires there for about 45 years (laughs). We'd bring 15 barrels of fuel for a weekend. Louis (Vermeil) said to me way back in '53, “I'd like you to bring a barrel of fuel with you,” and that's how it got started. I gradually built it up. I had a 1,000 gallon tank and then a 6,000 gallon tank in South San Francisco. A friend of my dad's had an oil company there and they had all these tanks, so I bought a tank. You got a better price when you took big quantities. One year I sold nearly 22,000 gallons of fuel.

To what do you attribute your longevity? Rapp: Take care of the body by eating the right kinds of food and don't eat any junk foods. Stay healthy. When I was running a 50- or 100-lapper, I would exercise every other night before I went to bed. That gave me stamiina.

Racing has been my life. And as the saying goes, “Would you like to live your life over again?” I would. Some people wouldn''t, but I would.