The Big Day: GTA IV Review
Grand Theft Auto IV will be on retailer shelves today; the day that you’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived. Of course I, being an Internationally Known Superstar™, have already played it. I had agreed not to talk about it until it was released. I, for one, am proud of my restraint.
How was it? It was kind of disappointing. Don’t get me wrong, GTA IV is ok. It’s basically the same concept as the rest of all the other games. You run around and steal cars and hit people with shit. So that works, but then again it always has. The real problem with it is that it really doesn’t do anything differently at all. As a result, it’s kind of boring.
I’m glad that the basics are the same. I’m not looking for them to ‘sell out’. For instance, adding features from Cooking Mama would clearly be a mistake. I’d really like them to enhance and expand the existing features. For instance, hitting police officers with lead pipes just doesn’t do it for me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want them to take that out of the game; I just want to be able to take it a bit further. I’d like it if they’d allow me to say … ‘dismember’ a police officer. I think that would be a great strategy. If you can dismember a cop in GTA IV then you’re happy, and they’ve left slow-roasting and cannibalizing a cop for GTA V. Everyone wins in this scenario (except the cop).
How about some special features? What if they allow you to bang a dog after you’ve beaten the game three times? How about giving players extra points for beheading nuns in front of school children? I think it’s important to go further than last year’s tame ‘Hot Coffee’ mod.
The real problem, and I’m sure you’ll agree, is that Rockstar is content with depravity when they could really be pushing the envelope. It’s time for them to put up or shut up. If you’re going to make cutting-edge video games then people should logically blame you for school shootings. Is anyone going to blame GTA IV when Little Billy goes into his Bumfuck, Idaho elementary school and knocks off fifty of his classmates? No, they won’t. Rockstar played it safe. The made a game for the kind of kids that are loved by their friends’ parents. That’s not for me. I want the game for the kid with the purple mohawk. Fucking pussies.
(I made this entire review up. I’ve never played it. I don’t care about it. I’m just being a smartass. Do whatever you already intended to do in regards to your videogame purchases.)
The Search Terms
If there’s one thing that always amuses me about internet stat tracking, it’s the search terms that people use to find whatever it is that you’re doing. The real beauty of it is that the words don’t even have to be connected in most search engines to return your work as a result unless you surround it with quotes. For example: searching for the phrase “Michael Jackson penis pictures” without quotes will return articles about all sorts of things including but not limited to men named Michael, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson’s penis, penises in general, etc. You must search with quotes if you are actually trying to find pictures of Michael Jackson’s penis [you WEIRDO]. I mention this by way of explanation: I don’t want you to think you missed my post about clown cock.
Search Terms Thus Far:
- “Techniques of writing blog” – Well, first off, if you’re consulting my blog for techniques on writing a blog … barking … trees … you get the point. This is a writing blog, so I guess that I get this one.
- “Pies in his face” – Ummm … Internet … you scare me. This refers of course to “Pie and Mortal Kombat” … so I guess that’s all good.
- “Tom and Magdalena” – Coincidentally, I wrote a story called “Tom Finds and Loses His Way” in which two of the characters are named Tom and Magdalena. It’s kind of amusing to think about what this poor person was searching for though when they stumbled onto a story about responsibility and abortion. Were they looking for a wedding registry/announcement? Perhaps the same but for a baby? God only knows, and I blame Him.
- “Mitt Romney” – Robots use computers now? I assume that they’re the only ones interested in him. In any event, that points to “The All-Important Fred Endorsement”. I get that. It makes sense (outside of who they were searching for … but I digress).
- “Im just a clown” – I’m sure that they meant “I’m” rather than “Im”; I’d hate to think that people are sitting around trying to find ways to become IM Buddies with clowns. This again is for “Pie and Mortal Kombat”. The real question here though, I think, is: What? Who’s sitting around insulting themselves via search engine? I’m just a clown? Do you have ED? Premature balding? Halitosis? Come on, keep it coming Emonet.
- “Held down and came in pants” – I really wish that I was making this one up. I’m not. The internet is full of sick, sick people. What the hell would make you search for that? I’m guessing that it relates to really twisted porn. I have no idea what story this pervert stumbled upon. I probably could find out by searching for that … but I don’t want to wind up on a FBI watch list; I’m not givin’ no stinkin’ DNA sample and that’s final.
In closing, the internet is a weird, weird place full of strange, strange people … and they fascinate me. I’ll likely report back on things like this from time to time.
Just Die Already – An Open Letter to HRC
April 28, 2008
Dearest Hillary Clinton
The American People would like to ask a favor of you. Will you please just die already? Your negative influence on the political arena and stubborn refusal to just go the fuck away are very frustrating to thoughtful, caring people everywhere. I can say that my blood pressure scores are up about 20% on average since your campaign began. For the good of the republic (and my blood pressure), I ask that you die or go away.
Should you choose to die, please do it on television as I feel this will undoubtedly help to reverse some of the damage that you’ve done to my poor blood vessels over the last year. I call on you to follow Bud Dwyer and put a .357 in your mouth and pull the trigger while the cameras roll. You’ll get extra points if your last words are “Baba Booey! Baba Booey! Howard Stern’s Penis!”
In closing, I’d like to remind you of the old creedo “leave the world better than you found it.” Have you done that Senator? Can you say that? Don’t even try to answer that. We all already know.
Good Day and Godspeed
Fred and the rest of the American Public
Lost In Thought
“Lost In Thought”
“Yeah, he’s learning Portuguese from this site he found on the internet. It’s called learnportuguesereallyquick.info or something like that.”
“Really? That’s impressive. What have you learned to say son?”
“Poderia ajudar-me com a minha bagagem?”
“Well, I’ll be! What’s that mean?”
His mother looked puzzled. “Johnny, what’s that one mean again?”
“It means ‘could you help me with my luggage?’”
The man looked at the boy incredulously. “How old are you son?”
“I’m seven. I’ll be eight next summer.”
The boy’s mother beamed. She was obviously quite proud. I watched this all from a booth in a greasy little diner just off the highway. I was waiting on someone. The words of the man, the boy (Johnny, I gather), and Johnny’s mother all began to sound more and more distant as my mind wandered. I was thinking about how cool it would be to learn Portuguese. I made plans to check out the site that they mentioned. I even took out my notebook and wrote down the name.
I looked down at my watch. It was 1:30. She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. This wasn’t unlike her though. I sat and waited; my mind drifted a little further. A whole world unveiled itself to me. I would begin by learning Portuguese. I’d change my name to Frederico and move to Lisbon. I think that it’s hot there. I’m not sure. I made a note in my book to check.
Looking at my watch, I discovered that it was 1:32. This could end up being a long one. She’s good for one of those once in a while.
I began to drift again. This new man Frederico would need an apartment. Perhaps it could be by the sea? Is there a sea there? I thought that there was. It made it to the book. Anyway, so Frederico lives by the sea, speaks Portuguese, and … works as a fisherman on a small boat that leaves every morning at four. Frederico’s small boat was named ‘Maiden do mar’. The ‘Maiden of the Sea’ was an old boat; the paint was peeling off and most of the nets had holes in them. You can’t take your shoes off while you’re onboard because you’ll get splinters in your feet; the floorboards are rough and careworn. The crew is small and haggard. They love the ‘Maiden do mar’ blindly; oblivious to its obvious faults. Frederico was among their number.
Frederico had worked hard to prove himself on this boat. He was even accepted by the old-timers now. They had given Frederico a hard time at first. Who could blame them? Frederico had never been a fisherman before his arrival at the ‘Maiden do mar’. He wasn’t even Portuguese. He spoke the language well, but his accent was horrible. Maria had helped with this. Maria was the daughter of one of the old men. Frederico had met her when he first came aboard. She was beautiful.
“Lost in thought?”, Mary asked as she walked up to the booth.
“Huh? What? Oh yeah, I guess that I was.”
Things That You May Not Know About Me
This list was inspired by Luthor and FuzzyTypewriter.
Things that you may not know about me:
- I’m married. I have two kids.
- My birthday is May 19th and I share it with Ho Chi Minh, Pol Pot, Malcolm X, Pete Townshend, and Nora Ephron. This year, I will be 29.
- I have no idea what I’d like to do with my life. I realize that I should decide soon as I’m becoming an old dude.
- I develop websites. For an example of what a website is … you’re on one.
- I have really low self-esteem. I survive this by pretending that I have absurdly high self-esteem. I don’t think it’s working.
- I live in upstate New York.
- If I could live anywhere, it’d be New York City. I’d least like to live in Kansas or Nebraska.
- My favorite color is black. I’m told it’s not actually a color though … so I guess I don’t have one.
- Big fan of Nirvana, Ani DiFranco, and early (pre-No Code) Pearl Jam.
- I also love The Bloodhound Gang, though most of me wishes that I didn’t.
- Sometimes I wish that I were a pimp.
- I’m obsessed with pop culture. I can’t help it. I am, of course, suitably ashamed of it.
- I actually pay attention to who the writers and director of a movie are. I’m hoping to stave off the future desire to track cinematographers.
- I don’t like animals, but I feel bad for them. I’ve gone through a few vegetarian periods in my life and I would really like to kick Michael Vick in the nuts.
- I don’t sleep enough.
- I have not masturbated in public … yet.
- My favorite writer is Hemingway.
- I’m going to quit smoking … someday.
- I think this list sucks. My apologies.
The All-Important ‘Fred Endorsement’
The 2008 Presidential Election campaign has been long and difficult on both the candidates and the American public. I’m writing this to announce that I have taken the long way around the lake and come to the finish line; I’ve officially decided who I will be supporting.
Early in the primary process, I was a Giuliani supporter. While I don’t agree with everything that Rudy stands for, I admire him and he inspires me. It’s easy to see how a man like Giuliani, who served New York City and the country as a whole so well on September 11th, would handle our nation in a crisis. Sadly, Giuliani was knocked out of the race fairly early thanks in large part to incredibly poor campaign strategy. This development really left me in a bind. The candidate that I loved, not liked but loved, had left the race.
So the question became: who could I support? The options at the time were Clinton, Obama, McCain, Huckabee, Romney, and Paul. Some of these people, as you’ll see, were immediately disqualified. Overall though, this wasn’t an easy decision for me.
Mike Huckabee turns me off in almost every way that a candidate possibly could. He’s an evangelical. He used to be a preacher. He likes to compare himself to Jesus. He’s made remarks about women, Jewish people, Mormons, homosexuals, Smurfs, Ligers, and party clowns that I find offensive. Is it really necessary to go any further? Probably not, but I will. He’s a hick. He doesn’t look presidential. He actually believes in creationism. Yes, that’s right kids, he thinks the entire world was created 6,000 years or so ago. Sounds like a guy I’d vote for right? Not a chance.
What about Ron Paul? Ron Paul is a Libertarian running as a Republican. I most closely identify with Libertarian positions. I don’t line up perfectly, but their party seems traditionally to have the closest positions to my own. Socially, I’m incredibly liberal. I like to joke that I’m to the left of lesbian Swedish hippies who actually live on a commune. I’m a little bit more right of center on economics, the role of government, and national defense. So, Paul would seem to be a fairly inspired choice right? Well, the answer is no and I’ll tell you why: Ron Paul is a racist. There, I said it. I know, I know, I know. The easiest way to get shit from a bunch of people is to say something negative about Ron Paul on the internet. Honestly though? I don’t give a fuck because it’s true. Ron Paul has made a series of comments about Martin Luther King Jr. and the city of New York that I consider to be patently offensive. As a matter of fact, I’m unwilling to quote them here because I don’t want to provide another place to find vitriol like that through a search engine.
Mitt Romney may in fact be a robot. I think that’s the simplest way to put it. It has nothing to do with his religion; he can frankly wear three pairs of magic underwear for all I care. It has to do with the fact that he’s so incredibly corporate. He’s ‘CEO-guy’. He’s very rehearsed and planned and it’s all about image. He seems to have entirely stripped all of the humanity away from himself and that turns me off.
So that effectively brings me to the three candidates still in the race. Paul was never really a serious contender (though he did beat Giuliani in a few of the early primaries – GAHHH). Romney dropped out shortly after Giuliani and Huckabee followed him a few weeks later.
I’ve considered each of the remaining three very closely.
Hillary Clinton makes it into this section of my essay frankly because she hasn’t conceded the nomination yet despite all of the evidence to the contrary. The rumors of her political death are indeed well founded even though she refuses to acknowledge it. I’ve spent a long time, most of my life it seems, becoming familiar with Hillary Clinton, and the fact of the matter is that I genuinely despise her. She is representative of every single thing that is wrong with politics and the power structure at the moment in this country. She sickens me.
Clinton is an opportunist of the worst magnitude. She isn’t interested in helping people; she’s not serving the public interest. She doesn’t care about me or you, she cares about power. I truly believe that she would behead her daughter Chelsea on the fifty-yard-line at the Super Bowl if Mark Penn or someone of his ilk told her that it would win her more votes than it would lose her. She moved to my home state of New York nearly a decade ago when it suited her political purposes. She has spent nearly eight years now as the junior carpet-bagger from New York, and it embarrasses the shit out of me.
She’s a liar. Now I know that all politicians lie. I’m not naïve. However, Clinton stands out among them. Clinton has made a career out of lying, whether about being shot at in Bosnia, or brokering the Good Friday Accords, or her role in Whitewater, TravelGate, FileGate, StolenShitGate …. I think you get the point. She’s full of shit. It’s “admit it, deny it, whatever it takes to get elected or out of trouble” with her.
Clinton brings a level of rancor and vitriol with her that I just can’t deal with anymore. Honestly, it’s emotionally draining to watch first Billary and now Hill draw ever-deeper lines in the sand with a dare to their opponents to cross it. How is Hillary more qualified to answer that “3 AM phone call” than Obama or McCain? She’s not, and she knows it. The problem is that she doesn’t know any way other than destruction. I’m tired of it.
In case you haven’t guessed yet, I’m not supporting Clinton. She’s dark and evil while I’m looking for uplifting, competent, and true. We would all be well served if she went away.
Whew! I feel a bit better now that I’ve gotten that off my chest.
I supported John McCain when he ran in 2000. You may remember that he was doing pretty well until someone spread the rumor that he had a black baby in South Carolina. I wonder who that was. Hmmm. Anyway … right … McCain. He’s a courageous man. He’s a great man. He has dedicated his life to the service of his country. For this, I am grateful and he has my undying respect. He no longer has my support though.
In 2000, McCain was a maverick. McCain believed in the things that he believed in regardless of whether or not he was supposed to. It was special, magic in a way. This man stood up and said the things he said and believed what he believed. If you didn’t like it or him, well that was just too bad. I didn’t agree with everything that he said or did, but he had to balls to do it and own it and I loved that.
Something happened though. McCain has changed in the intervening eight years. He’s not the maverick anymore. He’s become the establishment, and the establishment sucks. McCain has the spent the last eight years, and particularly the last four, moving further and further to the right. He’s paying attention to the religious right. He’s saying things that I’m not excited about. He’s not the guy anymore. He no longer gives me hope that the government can be run by people that rely on their integrity rather than their focus group testing.
You know who does give me hope? Barack Obama gives me hope. I haven’t always believed. I’ve been slowly moving towards him since Giuliani’s departure. There was a major bump in the road though. I’m not going to lie; the Reverend Jeremiah Wright thing freaked me out. It really did. The bitterness and anger espoused by Wright is not something that sat or sits well with me. I do not endorse it in any way. I do (now) understand it though in light of the remarks made by Obama in response to it. I still don’t endorse it (yes, I felt I had to say it twice), but I get it.
Obama’s Philadelphia speech entitled “A More Perfect Union” (in response to the Wright controversy) was one of the finest that I’ve ever had the privilege of hearing. It was moving, insightful, and inspiring. I truly believe that we can be a better country. I truly believe that we can all be better people. Obama inspires that in me. Nobody else does and no one ever has to this level. It’s refreshing and moving to have this experience with a politician. I’ve already spent nearly fifteen hundred words detailing the ways in which the word ‘politician’ had more or less become a dirty word. I don’t feel that way anymore. Politicians are people; some good, some bad. Obama gave that to me.
Now, I don’t agree with Obama on everything. I think that it’s critically important that we not allow the situation in Iraq to entirely collapse by withdrawing immediately. I also think that the government has a long history of demonstrating to us that they can’t be trusted to run something as large as Healthcare. You know what though? I believe again. I have hope again. The promise of America is new and refreshed in my mind. Obama gave that to me.
In return, I give him my support. I urge you to vote for Barack Obama.
“Steve Gets To Be The Hero”
Prompt: Write a scene in which the dramatic tension revolves around a misspelling: a road sign, the name on a birthday cake, the directions to a doctor’s office, a word in a spelling bee…
“Steve Gets To Be The Hero”
Steve was the day manager at the Shady Pines Motel. He’d been busy all morning. It was always busy in the springtime. People came from far and wide to see the Great Garmont and spring was the time to do it. Steve was having a rough day. Verne, from the evening shift had already called in and Steve was going to have to work his shift. The phone rang. Steve picked it up.
“Shady Pines Motel, Steve speaking.”
“Hi Steve. My name is Special Agent Roger Mills. I’m with the FBI.”
“Hello Agent Mills. Do you need a room? How may I help you?”
“We’ve just received word that you have a reservation tonight for a man named David Smith. That’s S-M-I-T-H. Can you confirm that for me?”
“Let me just check the book.”
“Sure thing.”
“Yep. Here it is. He’s staying two nights beginning tonight.”
“Excellent. What time is check-in there?”
“It’s at three o’clock.”
“Outstanding. OK. Steve was it?”
“Yep.”
“Will you be on until five?”
“Yep. Verne called in sick. I’ll be here until eleven tonight.”
“OK Steve, the United States government needs a favor from you. It’s not dangerous, and I need you to listen closely.”
“What can I do for you Agent Mills?”
“It’s not just me … never mind. Anyway, the FBI has been searching for David Smith. I can’t tell you what he did at this point, but I can tell you that he’s not wanted for a violent crime.”
“A criminal? Staying here? Why can’t you tell me what he did?”
“It’s an ongoing investigation and I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
“Well … what is it that you want me to do?”
“The FBI doesn’t have any field offices in the area that you’re located in. I’m going to have to fly out there, and I expect to be there in eight hours. The problem is that Smith may arrive at three and since it’s nine now … I probably can’t get there until five. I just need you to keep an eye on Smith. Give him any excuse that you can to keep him in the hotel until I get there. And DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT act like you know who he is. I don’t want him to get spooked and run off. Can I count on you Steve?”
“Well … I don’t know. It sounds like it could be dangerous.”
“Steve … we’re really counting on you here. It’ll be easy. You just have to make sure that he stays put.”
“I guess that I could do that.”
“OK then Steve. Thank you. I’ll see you around five, and remember Steve … DO NOT let him get away.”
Steve hung up the phone. He was worried. How was he going to keep this guy in the hotel? How would he deal with it if this guy figured out what was going on and reacted violently? He wasn’t really sure what to do. He decided to call Ted. Ted answered promptly on the twelfth ring as usual.
“Hello.”
“Hey Ted. It’s Steve. What’s going on?”
“Not much. Watchin’ Springer.”
“OK. Hey Ted, I’ve got a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I just got a call from a man at the FBI. They’re looking for someone that’s going to check in here today. Name’s Dave Smith.”
“What’d he do?”
“The guy wouldn’t tell me. Gave me some bullshit about it being an ongoing investigation and all. I have no idea. He needs me to make sure that the guy doesn’t leave before they get here.”
“They want you to hold onto this guy for them and they won’t tell you what they want with him?”
“Yep.”
“That’s just terrible right there.”
“I know. They said that he wasn’t violent, but how am I supposed to know if he was telling me the truth? The guy is wanted by the FBI after all.”
“How long between when he gets there and when the FBI gets there?”
“Two hours. The corpse-fucker or whatever he is should be here about three. The FBI should be here about five.”
“Hold on. I’ve got some ideas of ways that we can deal with this. I’ll be over around two.”
Steve hung up the phone and tried to go on about his business. Five o’clock could not come fast enough. He got back to folding towels and tried to take his mind off of it.
********************
Ted walked in the door at three minutes past two. He had a bag slung over his right shoulder. Steve was helping a customer but he gestured Ted into the back room. Steve finished dealing with the man and joined Ted in the back room after a few minutes. He immediately noticed that Ted had placed a bunch of items on the desk.
“What’s all that Ted?”
“I’ve got some stuff to help keep this guy here until the FBI gets here.”
“Rope Ted? Really? And is that a club?”
“Yeah. I figure that once he comes up to the desk, I’ll sneak behind him and WHACK him with the club. Then, we can use the rope to tie him up. We’ll hide him back here until Mr. FBI comes to get his package.”
“OK, just noticed something Ted and I have to ask about it. Let’s say that I go along with this crazy plan … what do we do with the TAZER that you forgot to mention there?”
“The TAZER is a backup. It’s only in case something goes wrong.”
“Well what could possibly go wrong Ted? It’s a great plan that you’ve got there,” Steve said sarcastically.
Just then, Steve heard the bell. He had a customer. He told Ted that he’d be right back and went to the counter.
“Hello sir. Can I help you?”
“Yes, my name is David Smith. I have a reservation.”
“Oh yes sir. Let me just check the book.”
“Thanks. I can’t wait to take a nap. I’ve been on the road all day.”
“I’ll bet. Here you are. Staying two nights?”
“Yes. I’m in town to see the Great Gar ….”
Dave’s sentence died in the middle when Ted hit him on the back of the head with the club. Steve was furious.
“Ted! What the fuck? We never agreed to that. You can’t just go around thumping people over the head because you feel like it.”
“Feel like it my ass Steve. That guy’s a criminal. What were we supposed to do?”
“How about ‘let him sleep’? The guy was tired. He was going on about taking a nap. I wouldn’t have had to do anything to keep him here.”
“So he said.”
“Whatever Ted. You’re an asshole. Where the hell did you come from anyway? I didn’t even see you before you popped up behind him and hit him.”
“I went out the window.”
“You went out the window?”
“Yeah, I heard him say that his name was Smith and I went out the window. I came around the front of the building and climbed into the window in the bathroom over here. Then, I crawled across the floor …”
Steve cut him off. “Stop Ted! I really don’t want to hear anymore.”
“Sure thing Steve. Just call Ted to fix your problem and then don’t even thank him when he does.”
“Oh thanks a lot … really Ted. Now get the fuck out of here.”
“All right buddy. You want me to leave the TAZER in case he wakes up?”
“FUCK!”
“What?”
“OK Ted, no TAZER, but we do have to tie him up.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do that Steve?” Ted was mocking him.
“I didn’t, but I can’t let him get away. You think he’s going to stay if he wakes up Ted? How do I explain that, genius? Damn it!”
Ted and Steve tied him up and moved him into the office. Steve threw Ted out. Ted left grumbling. Steve hated when Ted did shit like this. Just last year, Ted tried to catch his neighbor’s dog with a bear trap; he had thought it was shitting on his lawn. Steve was just glad that none of his other incoming guests had shown up during that.
********************
Special Agent Roger Mills showed up at precisely five. Steve watched his shiny black sedan pull into the parking lot. It may not have gone perfectly, but Steve had managed to hang onto Mills’ man. He’d have to be happy about that at least. Mills opened the door and walked to the counter.
“Hello. Special Agent Roger Mills. Are you Steve?”
“Yep. I’m Steve. How was your trip?”
“It was OK. Did Smith show up?”
“Yeah. He got here about two and a half hours ago.”
“Excellent. Is he still in his room?”
“Well, he didn’t quite make it to his room.”
“Didn’t make it to his room? What are you talking about?”
“He’s in back.”
“He’s out back?”
“No, he’s in the office.”
“What the hell is he doing in the office?”
“He’s unconscious.”
“Why is he unconscious?”
“Ted hit him with a club.”
“Who the hell is Ted and WHY would he hit him with a club?”
“Ted’s a friend of mine, not a great friend, but a friend.”
“Any why did he knock him out?”
“Well, I was nervous about having him in the hotel so I called Ted for advice. Ted came over with a crazy plan to knock him out and tie him up.”
“You planned to knock him out?”
“No. Smith showed up while Ted was explaining it to me. Ted’s a little nuts. I went out to deal with Smith and Ted overheard and … went out the window, came around the building, crawled across the floor, and knocked your guy out with the club.”
“Is he insane? I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Ted? Yeah, he’s a little crazy. I didn’t know who else to call. All of my other friends work during the day.”
“You trusted your only friend that doesn’t work during the day for advice on handling a fugitive? That’s just … nevermind. Bring me to Smith.”
Steve motioned for Mills to follow him. They walked into the office where Smith was lying, unconscious and bound on the floor. His arms were tied behind his back. His feet were tied together. He had duct tape on his mouth. Steve looked at Mills and Mills stared back in open-mouthed horror.
“Who the fuck is that?”
“Who is who? I don’t follow, Agent Mills.”
“On the floor … nearly hog-tied. Who the fuck is that?”
“It’s David Smith. The man you asked me to detain.”
“First of all, I didn’t ask you to detain him. I asked you to keep him in the hotel. Detention is a totally different thing. It’s kind of like this, but less third-world.”
“I …”
“Secondly, you astounding idiot, this ISN’T DAVID SMITH.”
“What do you mean? It’s David Smith. He checked in. He said that his name was David Smith. You called about him. This is the guy that you wanted.”
“No, it’s not. THIS ISN’T THE GUY.”
Special Agent Mills reached down into the man’s pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out his license.
“This man is David Smyth with a fucking ‘Y’ you moron.”
“Yeah, David Smith. S-M-Y-T-H. I remember from when you called.”
“No Cletus, clean out your fucking ears. It’s ‘I’ not ‘Y’. Jesus!”
“Oh man. What are we going to do?”
“We aren’t doing anything. You’re an idiot. I’m going to go off and begin my crusade against inbreeding.”
Steve looked down at the floor. He had nothing to say in his defense. “What should I do then?”
“You should get a good lawyer and PRAY that this man doesn’t sue you or kill you. I’m leaving. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”
Special Agent Roger Mills walked out of the office. Steve reached for the phone. He was calling a friend to get some advice.
“Pie and Mortal Kombat”
Prompt: The only thing that I ever wanted was ____________.
“Pie and Mortal Kombat”
It was certainly time to do something about this. Peggy and I would just have to talk him out of it. I don’t think we really had a choice at this point. It had gone too far. We went into his room. Peggy spoke first.
“Hey Barry. You got a second?”
“Sure thing Mom.”
I looked at my boy and said: “Son, we love you. We have to talk to you about this circus thing.”
“Look Dad, I know what you’re…”
Peggy interrupted with “Please just hear us out.”
Barry sighed, rolled his eyes disgustedly, and said: “Fine.”
I decided to start.
“Barry, when I was a kid, the only thing that I ever wanted was pie. It was an obsession really. Apple, raspberry, strawberry; it didn’t matter as long as it was pie. I also wanted to beat the hell out of all of my friends in Mortal Kombat. So … it wasn’t all about pie, but I think the point stands: everything is much simpler when you’re young.”
Peggy looked at me like I was deranged or mentally handicapped or something. Barry noticed it and smiled. I continued.
“Lots of things have happened between then and now. I graduated high school and then college. I ran for mayor. I’ve told you about that before right? It was just a crazy thing I did. I think I was just scared of actually having to get a job. But anyway, I met some girls and even fell in love with one of them.” Peggy smiled at this. I went on. “We got married and bought a house. We had you.”
“You see … the point is that I was searching as we all search. We all try to find out who we are and what we’ll be. It’s a fairly universal path that life takes us all on. The idea is to search without making your life a gigantic disaster in the long run. That’s why your mother and I are concerned about you lately kid. You can’t just run away with the circus. It’s not a reasonable thing to do. We understand if you want join a band or try to be an actor or hell … even run for mayor. Those are all things that won’t ruin your life. You’re not going to find yourself thrown off of a train in Skokie, Oklahoma with no money in your pocket or education to speak of because you ran for mayor. Backpack across Europe if you have to. Protest the war. I’m not telling you what to do; I’m just saying that there are a lot of things that you could do that don’t involve sharing a straw bed with a filthy camel.”
Peggy looked a bit more impressed with the point I was trying to put on the matter. Barry had likely stopped listening at Mortal Kombat. I decided to press on.
“What are you looking to get out of this son?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a clown. The circus is the largest stage for clowns. I’ll get a chance to work my way up.”
I had to find a way into his mind. “But what Barry … makes you want to be a clown? Have you ever considered the future? How much of one is there in clowning? You’re very intelligent. You could be a lawyer, a doctor, or anything really that you wanted to be.”
“You guys don’t get it. I love everything about the idea of being a clown. I love the makeup. I love the costume. I love the looks on the faces of the people watching you.”
“Barry, you played a clown once … at a school fundraiser. It’s not exactly a good basis for life-changing decisions.”
“Dad, people love clowns. I love clowns. I just want to make people happy.”
“Barry … I don’t know how to tell you this, but many people don’t like clowns. There have been studies done on it for crying out loud.”
“Mom, do you understand?”
“Honey, your father’s right. Many people dislike clowns.”
I interjected:”I’m sorry that I said that Bar. I’ve seen the numbers. I didn’t lie about it, but it’s not really the point. Have you considered working as a party clown on the weekends while you go to college?”
“Dad, party clowning is the worst. Everyone does hate those people. They work alone. They perform to people that aren’t out to see clowns. It’s the toughest way to go. And for what really? If I work really hard then I can be the best low-rent party clown in the history of party clownery or however you say it. I’m not doing that. I want to be a clown and the circus is where it’s at.”
I sat back and thought about it. Peggy and I would have to talk about this. We excused ourselves and went out to the kitchen.
“What do you make of this Peg?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea what to say. I can’t believe that he’d choose to throw his life away.”
I stopped to consider this for a moment.
“Is he really throwing his life away? I mean … I certainly don’t get it and you don’t seem to either, but Barry seems to be stuck on this.”
“I don’t know Peter. He wants to be a clown. Why did we make him go to school or do homework? He plans to spend the rest of his life taking pies in his face.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing though. It’s his life. We raised him well. He knows what he wants or at least he thinks he does. It’s not what we expected or hoped for, but if it makes him happy … then we should support him. Right?”
“But the circus Peter! The smelly, filthy circus! Why?”
“Oddly, that part actually made some sense to me in the end. He thought it through. You want to be a doctor … you go to medical school. You want to be a clown … you join the circus. I’m proud of him … in some way.”
We went back and forth like this for nearly an hour. In the end, Peggy agreed with me. She didn’t like it, but she agreed. If Barry wanted to be a clown then we had to accept that and support him. If it didn’t work out in the end, then at least he tried and we were behind him. He could always do something else. He had a lot of options. We knocked on his door and walked in.
I began. “Barry, your mother and I talked about it. We support you. If you want to give the clown thing a shot for a while then we’re behind you.”
Barry looked confused. “You are?”
“Yes. You are our son, but you’re becoming a man and it’s time that you began running your own life. You should give this a shot.”
Barry looked more puzzled than ever. “I have no idea what’s going on here. Mom? Dad? Have you been replaced by alien invaders or something? I don’t want to become a clown. That’s a ridiculous goddamn idea. I just wanted an H2 and I thought you might offer to buy me one to not ruin my life. Jesus. You people are weirdoes. Honestly! A clown. What the hell is wrong with you people? I’m not sleeping on a train. I’m going to college.”
In the end, we bought the boy his absurd SUV. Did it negatively reinforce his bad behavior? Perhaps, but mostly we were just glad that he wasn’t going to run away with the circus.
“Tom Finds and Loses His Way”
Prompt: For sale: Baby shoes, never worn. From Ernest Hemingway, more on the story here.
“Tom Finds and Loses His Way”
Tom was a friend of mine. I’d known him for a long time. He was a lot of fun. He wasn’t the kind of guy though, that you counted on. Tom wouldn’t help you move, you couldn’t count on his advice, and he wasn’t the kind of guy that would bring out the best in you. I don’t put it this way because I want you to think badly of him. I just want you to understand. Tom was a great guy to hang out with, but not a great man.
Tom dated Magdalena for about three months. I remember when they met. Tom and I were in a bar on a Tuesday afternoon. It was oddly bright as the sun shone through the darkened windows. There were only four people in the bar. Tom and I were joined by an old man in a mesh baseball hat and a flannel jacket and Magdalena. We saw her at the far end of the bar as soon as we walked in. She was striking with long black her and dark eyes. There was a sadness in her; it wasn’t specific, but you could see it. She sat alone idly downing drink after drink. Her pace shocked even Tom and I who were used to heavy drinking and being in a bar at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday.
Tom sent a drink down the bar to her. She downed it in one gulp without looking in our direction. Tom sent another and she did the same again. Tom approached her after the third round. They talked, I’m not quite sure about what, but they connected. They became fairly inseparable in the next few weeks. I saw a lot of her too. She was nice. I liked her too. She seemed to make Tom happy.
It all ended after three months when Magdalena told Tom that she was pregnant.
Tom raged, “How can you be pregnant?”
“Do you really need help figuring that out sport?”
“Very funny smartass. I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”
“Well Tom, sometimes when a man loves a woman … they have drunken unprotected sex like irresponsible animals in heat scratching and clawing their way to life-altering change.”
“You’re a fucking riot. Thinking of taking this on the road?”
“Do you really think that I’m happy about this?”
“I don’t know what to think Magdalena. I just can’t deal with this.”
“You can’t deal with this? Any babies growing in your uterus Tom?”
“Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Tom turned and left.
Tom spent the next few months trying to pretend that it hadn’t happened. I broke the pattern that normally colored our relationship and actually implored him to do the right thing. He wouldn’t even respond; he acted like he hadn’t even heard. If I hadn’t known Tom, I would’ve thought that the situation bothered me more than it did him. I reached out to Magdalena and got nowhere. She wouldn’t even talk to me.
About six months later, Tom needed a new pair of shoes. We had this wild night out all over the town. Towards the end of it, we were being chased through the park by the police (and let me tell you … that’s a whole other story of its own) when Tom ran through some deep mud and came out one sneaker short. Tom went to a shoe store the next day. He picked up a new pair of white and red tennis shoes. He spotted the baby version of same pair as he was walking to the register to pay for them. He walked over and picked them up. Something inside him woke up, and he realized at once that he’d made a mistake with Magdalena. He loved Magdalena. He loved his baby. He was just scared. He carried his new shoes to the counter and bought a pair for the baby too.
He left the store resolved to become someone that he’d never been. He was going to be responsible. He was going to get himself together. He had no choice as he was going to be someone’s father. Tom hopped into a cab and told the driver Magdalena’s address. The cab driver took him there straight away.
When he arrived at the house, there was a party going on. Music flooded into the street followed by the sounds of yelled conversation and frantic laughter. Confused, Tom decided to make his way through the throngs of people streaming in and out to find Magdalena. He finally found her in the kitchen talking with a man that Tom had never seen before. It looked to him like they knew each other well. She looked at him.
“What are you doing here Tom? Need another tutorial on the female reproductive system?”
“No Magdalena. I need to talk to you.”
“What is there possibly to talk about Tom? You left. Remember? You left me in the lurch.”
Everyone else filtered out of the kitchen. Tom and Magdalena were alone.
“I was an asshole Magdalena. I was just … being an ass. I was shopping for shoes today and I realized it. I don’t know what to say to make this better. I love you. I miss you. I want to be a part of this baby’s life.”
“Baby? You want to be a part of our baby’s life Tom?”
“Yes. I do. I fucked up and I’m sorry and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to the two of you.”
“It’s too late Tom. I can’t make yesterday go away; it already happened.”
“What do you mean ‘it’s too late’?”
“Are you an idiot? I had an abortion. Do you know how hard it would’ve been to have a baby with you? … if you were on board. But you weren’t. So I did what I had to.”
“Sorry. “
Tom turned and walked away feeling worse than he ever had. There was no feeling worse, in his mind, than losing something that you could’ve had right after you realized that you wanted it. His left hand clutched a bag full of recently useless sneakers. He hopped into a cab and rode off into the night.
“Pants On Fire”
“Pants on Fire”
“There’s no point in even doing this if you’re going to act like that,” Ace said as he lit a cigarette.
“I’m just saying that she’s a liar and I don’t think that I should just sit there and nod my head and make her think that I’m buying into her nonsense,” Regina said rolling down her window.
“You want to be her friend right?”
“I don’t know. I might just think that I want to be her friend. She’s full of shit.”
Ace exhaled deeply. “You know that she has a disease.”
“Well, that doesn’t make it any easier to take. She lies constantly. It’s always been this way, but lately it’s getting worse,” Regina said as she turned her head to look out the window.
“How did you manage to stay friends with her through college?”
“It was college. It was easy. I was fucked up half the time anyway and she was my roommate. It’s simple to get along with someone if you have to,” Regina rolled her eyes and continued. “I think that this might be exactly what it is. I think that it was easy to be friends with her in college and now I feel like I have to because she’s “sick” and there hasn’t been any good reason to stop being her friend … so here we are.”
Ace looked at her and smirked. “Maybe it will be fun. You’ll never know unless we go.”
“Ace, seriously? Last week she told me that her brother died in a fire. I work with her brother. I just saw him two hours ago.”
“She’s ill. You know this. I’m not trying to force you to go. I’m just playing devil’s advocate because I know that you’ll feel bad later if we don’t. Besides, maybe it was a different brother,” he said with a smirk.
“She only has one brother Ace. You want to know the fucked up part? I only know that because I’ve met her mom. Yeah, up until that day she had always told me that she was an only child. She even wore a necklace with a stupid only child charm on it. Who the hell lies about a relative dying in a fire? That’s horrible.”
“You know who does that? Sick people. She’s a sick people and you know this.”
“Whatever. Let’s just go and get this over with. You’re right; I’ll feel like shit if we don’t.”
“We’ll be there shortly Miss Daisy,” he said as he held back a laugh and doffed his imaginary cap.
They pulled up in front of Miko’s house. The two-story house had a huge porch and a small patch of grass in the front; it was the illusion of a front lawn. Ace and Regina sat in the car for a minute.
“You see what I mean? It’s like she has bullshit built into everything that she is. Look at that porch,” Regina said.
“It’s a rather nice porch. It’s roomy. You could put some chairs out there and relax in the summertime with a lemonade.”
“It’s deceptively large. Her apartment is only four rooms and you’d expect a porch that size to be on William Shatner’s house or something.”
“You’re reading far too deep into this,” Ace said.
They finally got out of the car and walked up the steps. “This is a nice porch,” Ace muttered and chuckled as they stood in front of the door. The look in Regina’s eye told him that she didn’t really find it funny. Regina rang the second doorbell. Ten seconds later, they were face to face with Miko.
“Hi,” Miko said. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you two. I wish that I had known that you were coming. We could’ve made a whole thing out of it.”
Regina looked at Ace; Ace looked at Regina. Ten seconds passed silently.
Regina decided to break the silence. “Miko, we talked earlier. You asked me to come over.”
Miko affected an air of confusion. “No, I didn’t. You’re here though so come on in.”
“We can do it another time if that’s better,” Ace said sheepishly.
“No. Don’t be silly. Besides, all of this food will go to waste without anyone to eat it.”
Miko turned and walked up the stairs. Ace could see that Regina was boiling mad. She had a look on her face that screamed “this is soo just like her”. Ace held her hand. They followed her up the stairs. The kitchen was at the top of the stairs. As they passed the kitchen table, Regina looked over and couldn’t help but notice that there were three plates on the table.
Miko led them into the living room. She went into the kitchen to finish dinner. It was a rather small apartment. Ace looked around.
“Miko,” he called out into the kitchen. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”
“I’ve been good ever since the cancer,” was her reply.
“I didn’t know that you had cancer. That’s horrible.” Ace looked at Regina. She looked like she wanted to kick her and hard.
“Yeah, breast cancer. They froze it out though.”
“They froze it out? Wow, that’s some doctor that you have.”
Ace looked at Regina. Regina looked back. Instantly, she deadpanned “it’s a good thing that the doctor just happened to have popsicles around. We wouldn’t be here tonight without them. Fucking Dr. Good Humor.”
Miko yelled out “Sorry, didn’t catch that last part? What’s up?”
“Nothing. Nothing,” was Ace’s reply.
“This is almost done. I’ll be setting the table in a moment.”
“Sounds good, Miko. We can’t wait.”
Regina shot daggers at Ace. “Why? How can you play along with this bullshit like it has any truth to it? She pretended to have cancer that a doctor froze off with a fucking fudgesicle. She’s a sociopath.”
Ace looked at Regina and shrugged. “What else can I do? Calling her on it doesn’t change anything. I’m not looking for parenting advice or stock tips from her. She doesn’t necessarily have to tell me the truth. In the end, the result is the same. Oh yeah, and because she’s clearly mentally ill.”
Miko entered the living room. “I hope that you guys are hungry. It’s time to eat. I worked really hard on this. I hope that you like it.”
Ace and Regina followed her into the kitchen and sat down. There was a carafe of wine in the center of the table. Around it sat three plates. Each had a Hot Pocket on it. Regina rolled her eyes. They sat down.
Ace spoke first. “So Miko, dinner looks good.”
“Thanks. I really like to cook. Sure, it takes a long time to make something like this, but I think that it’s worth it. In the end, it’s healthier for you too.”
Regina was visibly irritated by the latest set of developments. Miko reached for the carafe of wine. “Regina, would you like some wine? You look like you could use a drink.”
Regina replied “sure” in a manner that betrayed her irritation.
“I really hope that you like this wine. It came from my family’s vineyard. I grew up there. We’ve been making wine for nearly 150 years.” Miko smiled as she said this. It was a smile that you could see radiating throughout her entire body.
Regina loved this latest development. “Miko, I’ve been to your family’s house. It’s not a vineyard. You don’t come from a long line of grape growers. I don’t know how you think that you could tell me that.”
Miko looked hurt. “I think that you’re confusing me with someone else. My family makes wine. They make great wine.”
“You look like you could use a drink,” Regina said and with that rose out of her chair and dumped the entire carafe of the red wine of legends over Miko’s head. “You’re fucking crazy. I’m leaving.”
Regina turned and walked out the door. Ace sat at the table trying to figure out if there was anything that even resembled a graceful exit to be had in this situation. Miko sat in her chair crying with wine running down her face. Ace got up and ran towards the door and down the stairs.
Regina sat in the car. She was seething. She watched as Ace came down the stairs behind her. He sat down beside her.
“So… that went well,” Ace said with a grin. “You lasted much longer than I expected you to. She’s a crazy, crazy woman.”
“I can’t believe that I did that. That wasn’t called for. I just get so pissed at her. She’s unbelievable.”
“I know. I really wasn’t trying to push you earlier. I just didn’t want you to feel like you do now.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry that I make you do things like that. I know just as well as you do that I’d be upset with myself for blowing her off. The really ironic thing is that we didn’t and now I’m upset with myself for different and very obvious reasons.”
“She’s a lot to take. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Ace pulled away from the curb and began the drive home. Regina was glum. She stared out the window until an idea came to her.
“I know exactly how to handle this,” she said.
Ace was afraid to ask. He found a way. “What’s up?”
Regina reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed and listened for Miko to pick up on the other end.
“Hi Miko. It’s Regina. How are you?”
“Regina? I thought that you hated me. I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”
“What?”
“You dumped a carafe of wine over my head,” Miko intoned into the phone. It was obvious that she was upset about it.
“No I didn’t.”
“You did. You did it just now … at my house.”
“Sweetie, are you feeling ok? I haven’t seen you in three months.”
“You were just here for dinner. Ace was with you.”
Regina affected a teary tone and replied “Miko, you know that Ace died six months ago. You were at the funeral. Look, I’ve got to go. Call me tomorrow after you’ve had some rest.”
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