Furious Tuscadero

Still Writing!

2009-04-08T08:01:00.001-04:00

Just not on my own blog. A stunning tale of culinary adventure and baking derring-do can be found here:

http://foodnerd.org/2009/04/01/what-you-think-you%E2%80%99re-a-big-shot-now-let%E2%80%99s-see-your-pasta-bake/

Ta.

NaNoWriMo Day 29 - VICTORY!!!!!

2007-11-29T14:30:00.000-05:00

Yeah, the novel is pretty terrible but I am amazed that I pulled it off.

Final Word Count: 50,083

Joseph

Everyone gapes at General Xu in shock. He gains his composure first and struts across the floor like a peacock, surveying the room. His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. He exclaims that he knew they were up to something strange, but when his spies told him exactly what had been going on down here he knew he had to see it for himself. He barks a quick order in Chinese to one of his men and the soldier hustles over to the control console and starts trying to figure out what does what. Cleaver brushes some of the dust from the explosion off his immaculate suit and gathers himself. Now see here, he says to Xu, I am the CEO of Nanodyne Defense Systems and the owner of this facility. What makes you think you can just barge in here like this? Didn’t you people learn that you weren’t in charge here when we removed you from power? You only continued to hold your position because we let you. He says this with a satisfied smirk, the same one I’ve seen in a thousand meetings when he is berating someone he deemed inferior.

The old man’s speech took him face to face with General Xu, who seems greatly amused by it. Like a cobra, he backhands Cleaver hard across the jaw. The old man sprawls to the floor with a feeble cry, and Jenkins scrambles across the floor to his fallen boss. Cleaver looks at Xu with true fear, he isn’t used to these things being settled physically. Xu tells him that he is relieving him of this facility and all of his assets, effective immediately. He nods to the soldier at the control panel, who starts fiddling with knobs. Just like that, I lose control again and I start to stiffly approach Cleaver and Jenkins. Cleaver backpedals in terror, ordering me to stop where I am. I don’t fight it this time, I let all of the frustration and humiliation of all the years I bowed to him course through my veins and I actually smile as I stalk him. I grab his silk tie, and Jenkins tries feebly to swat my hand away. I kick Jenkins in the chin and pull the old man to my face. Mr. Cleaver, I say, consider this my resignation. I yank the tie and it closes around his throat like a noose. His eyes bug out of his skull as he chokes, vainly trying to take a breath. I keep tightening the tie and something squishes, I think it is his windpipe. With a final gurgle, he dies, the regal spark drains from his body along with his life, and he is just a sorry old man.

A renewed moan of fear rises from the rest of the board, and Jenkins crawls back to them with a bloody mouth. I let him go, the fear in his eyes is satisfaction enough. Xu orders them rounded up for processing, whatever that is. Two of the soldiers start binding the frightened executives, and the rest he orders to secure the rest of the complex. They all file out leaving only three armed men in the room, plus Xu. Molly and I stay quiet, unsure of what his plans for us may be. Candy looks sick to her stomach, and it is she that he addresses next. He says that he seems to recall selling her into slavery, and making quite a nice profit by doing so. He wonders if he would be lucky enough to get such a nice sum from her a second time. Candy starts to cry, shaking her head weakly. My anger rises once more and I tell him to leave her out of this and let her go. He smiles and informs me that I am in no position to make such demands. I puff up and tell him that if he doesn’t let her go, I will kill him myself. This greatly amuses him and he nods to the soldier in control, who sends me flopping to the floor. I struggle to move as Xu calmly walks over and steps on my throat with a heavy boot. He asks me to repeat that but my jaw is locked shut, I can only make frustrated growls as I fight to move.

Molly

Xu is occupied with Joseph and the soldier controlling him is focusing on keeping him on the floor. The other two are watching the board, who weep and cower at gunpoint. I dash full speed toward the control panel, and by the time anyone is able to react I am in mid kick. The soldier’s neck breaks with a sickening snap and he falls to the floor dead. Joseph bursts from the floor, knocking Xu on his back, as the other soldiers point their rifles and yell. Joseph picks Xu up and orders them to drop their weapons. Xu fearfully orders them to comply and they do. I tell Candy to retrieve the guns and bind the soldiers with the plastic ties they used on the Nanodyne people. She does so quickly, pausing on her way to stick her tongue at Xu. He struggles in Joseph’s grip, fumbling for the pistol at his belt. Joseph sees this and tears his belt off with one strong pull, sending the gun clattering to the floor and poor Xu’s pants to his ankles. Joseph throws him down hard. He begins to beg, sitting there in his tightie whities, promising safe passage from the country in exchange for his life. I walk over to stand next to Joseph, picking up Xu’s pistol on the way. I look at Joseph and ask if he would like to do the honors. He shakes his head and tells me to go right ahead. Xu is in mid plea when I shoot him in the forehead. His eyes go straight up and he falls to the floor drooling.

I survey the room to try and figure out just what the hell we are going to do next when my arm jerks without warning and shoots Joseph in the chest. Everyone is surprised to see Brandt, looking very much the worse for wear, struggling to work the control panel with only one functional arm. Joseph gasps but does not go down, and my arm swings toward Candy. She dives behind one of the bound soldiers just in time and I shoot the man dead. My aim swings back to Joseph, who is still standing there in disbelief. He finally moves and slaps the gun away with a mighty swat before I can get another shot off. Brandt frantically switches to control Joseph, since he can’t do both at once with his ruined arm. Joseph takes a step toward me but stops. I can see veins pulsing in his forehead as he fights with everything he can. As I watch in disbelief, he staggers to the soldier that I shot and pulls a grenade from the bandolier around the man’s chest. His breathing has become very labored, and I can tell that the gunshot wound has almost taken its toll. Brandt shrieks and fights with the control panel as Joseph approaches him slowly, like a zombie.

Joseph

I can feel air sucking through the wound in my chest and everything is going blurry. Every muscle in my body is resisting, but I keep pushing. Brandt seems incredulous that I can actually fight his control. As I get close to him, he desperately stabs something on the control panel and I freeze. I summon every ounce of strength and will that I have left, shaking with the effort. Suddenly, something goes pop in my head and all I can see is red. The last thing I do before I slip away is pull the pin on the grenade in my hand.

Candy

I cry out when Joseph pulls the pin. He falls heavily on Brandt, pinning him to the floor. Brandt’s screams are cut off when the grenade between their bodies goes off with a heavy thump, making quite a mess and killing them both. I turn away, horrified, and swallow a gag. I look over at Molly, who also looks pretty shaken. She catches my eye and nods, acknowledging the pain of Joseph’s heroic death. She holds up her left arm experimentally, it looks like the blast also took out the control panel. She asks if I am ready to get out of here and I nod, hoisting up one of the rifles. She takes the other and we cautiously make our way out of the room, leaving the Nanodyne execs to be dealt with by whoever finds them. There are still scattered gunshots from all around the complex, the last of Brandt’s men holding off against Xu’s men. Molly finds an intercom system and picks up the microphone with a wink. She announces that Brandt is dead, Xu is dead, that there is no reason to continue fighting. Amazingly, the gunfire stops. We continue on, passing the occasional pocket of soldiers who watch us tensely, but allow us to pass. No one seems entirely sure about what to do. We find a huge ramp that leads to the surface, it looks like they used it to bring down and store vehicles. Molly finds a jeep and hotwires it expertly. I hit the control to open the hatch and we tear out of there, into the bright sunlight.

There is a lot of chaotic noise as we approach the town, and I am fearful of just what we will find there. As we get closer, I realize that the noise is cheering, many, many voices all singing happily. We roll in to see the townspeople in full celebration mode, dancing in the streets. An excited teenage boy runs up to the jeep and tells me that the peasants formed a revolution and overtook the hardliners. They are finally free, he exclaims, although I’m not really sure if he has any concept of just what that means. I ask Molly to take me to Pratima’s house, I need to make sure she is okay. When we arrive, I run from the jeep and bang on Pratima’s door frantically. I see scared eyes peer through the slot and then she opens the door with a joyous cry. We embrace happily, crying like a couple of girls. I promise her I would come back as soon as I help Molly get home.

We head to the Ministry of defense, where a collection of village elders has quickly been assembled to rule. Molly tells them everything, about the abductions of townspeople for experiments, about the puppet government, and about Xu’s defeat. The elders converse briefly, and promise Molly that she will be allowed safe passage from the country. She breathes a sigh of relief and turns to me. She says that she is glad to have met me, and that she hopes I lead a long and happy life here. We embrace tightly, sharing the memory of Joseph, and she leaves with an escort to go wherever life may take her.

They are just starting to release the various political prisoners that the hardliners were holding, and I am overjoyed to find Chirag alive. A little shaky and malnourished, but alive. I make sure he is ok and go back to Pratima’s house. She asks me all about my grand adventure, but exhaustion hits me like a tidal wave and I assure her that I will tell it all another day. She pouts but leads me into her bedroom where I crash hard and fall asleep almost instantly. As I drift away I am comforted by the joyous sounds of the town all around me. I think things are going to be ok.

Molly’s Epilogue

My new employer, Red River Security and Retrieval, is a lot more fun to work for than stuffy old Nanodyne. They looked a bit doubtful when I strolled in and told them I was looking for work, but when I took my new boss down with a Judo move, they got a whole lot more receptive. I even got to learn all sorts of cool new stuff, like zero-G fighting and psychic combat. I’ve sort of shacked up with a guy named Reese, one of the instructors. I say sort of because relationships between instructor and student are frowned upon, and neither of us know how serious we want things to get. The sex though, my god it is amazing and worth every hour of the grueling physical training required to stay at the top of my game.

Sometimes I think back on my old life, and how if it weren’t for the whole awful mess that happened, I would still be meek little Molly the wallflower. Now, I’m badass Molly the mercenary, and no one dares mess with that. When I first got back to the States, I turned in my resignation with Nanodyne immediately. Things were in such chaos, with the CEO dead and the board missing, that I don’t think anyone ever noticed. It seems they were having trouble with the authorities in determining just what exactly happened. Hell, I was there and I still couldn’t explain it all. That was when the U.N. got interested, and it was all downhill for them from there. Last I heard the corporation was liquidated, and more than a few bigshots were arrested.

During my first job with Red River, I was a little nervous because I had only done this kind of stuff in simulation, and back then my left arm had a mind of its own. Now, it is all me. We were hired to escort an aid convoy to the Pakistani wastelands, and of course we got hit almost immediately. These clowns looked like they were straight out of Mad Max, all leather and spikes. Luckily, they didn’t learn shit about tactical offense from any of the movies, and we wiped the floor with them in no time flat. I will never forget the hulking brute who jumped on the hood of my transport, only to find little old me waiting for him with a rifle that was almost as big as I am. Before I blew is head to pieces I relished the look of disbelief in his eyes that he was about to be done in by a petite blonde woman. I bet his friends in hell give him all sorts of shit about it.

My days are pretty much routine, unless there is a job. I train in the morning, meet up secretly with Reese for a bit, train some more, horse around with the guys, and hit the sack. I stopped counting how long I’ve been with Red River, mostly because I don’t care. I am perfectly content here. There have been a few rocky times, just like any other job. It hurt like hell to lose Ramirez. We were in a hostage standoff, on top of a skyscraper in Hong Kong. An anti-socialist group calling themselves The Resurrection of the Dragon (don’t ask me where they come up with these names) had kidnapped a high ranking Russian official, and we were trying to get him back because the Russians paid us to. Sometimes a specialized private force is better in these situations than one’s own people. And besides, the only politics we cared about was currency exchange. It was a standoff situation on top of the building. One of the Dragons had Secretary Ulev at the edge of a very long drop. He stood behind the weeping official, with his back to the edge. One hand was around Ulev’s throat, the other held the detonator to the explosives strapped around his waist. Ramirez was approaching slowly, hands raised and calmly reasoning with the young terrorist. I had a clean line of fire to put him down, but Ramirez wanted to end it peacefully. Unfortunately, the Dragon was too scared and unstable to be reasoned with. He raised the detonator high and screamed some sort of oath, then pressed the button. I guess he thought he could get him in time, but I’ll never really understand why Ramirez charged him like he did. The Russians wouldn’t have been too happy with us for letting their man get blown to bits, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. Everyone messes up sometimes. Instead, Ramirez bolted over and knocked the Secretary out of the way, pushing the Dragon over the edge at the same time. It almost worked but the punk managed to catch Ramirez’s sleeve as he went and they both toppled over the side. The explosion came a split-second afterward. It knocked me to my feet, shaking the whole building. I ran to the edge but there was nothing left of either man. The Secretary, though very shaken, was otherwise unharmed. I still would trade his life for Ramirez’s any day.

Other than a few other minor goofs though, we run an extremely tight outfit. Our reputation for efficiency and discretion was unparalleled among all of the other private security firms. I was welcomed into the fold quickly. There was no macho bullshit here, once they realized that I was perfectly capable of kicking ass like anyone else, I became a member of the family.

Maybe I’ll settle down and go back to a normal life when I’m old and can’t hack it anymore. But for now, I’m having too much fun. If there is a heaven, I hope Joseph’s self-sacrifice earned him a golden ticket. And if the powers that be lighten up on the whole “thou shall not kill” thing, then just maybe I’ll see him there when my ticket gets punched. We’ll have a beer together. Things are good, and all I can do is hope that they stay this way. Unfortunately, circumstances have a way of changing just when everything falls into place like you want it to be. All I can do is stay sharp, and try to keep my ass out of the fire. I hope Candy is doing the same, wherever she ended up.

The End!

NaNoWriMo Day 28

2007-11-28T17:01:00.000-05:00

Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion!

Word Count: 47,027

Molly

One of the soldiers knocks on my door and tells me that Brandt wants to see me. I exhale sharply to push out some of the nervousness that has begun to buzz in my stomach and I follow him out. The walk is long, almost the entire length of the complex. When we enter the large room I see Joseph doing absolute amazing acrobatics, I don’t know what the hell they did to him but I can’t help but be impressed. Maybe they replaced something of his too? I doesn’t seem like it has been long enough for him to master it to that degree. The soldier stops me at the doorway and no one notices me come in. I realize with no small amount of shock that the Nanodyne board of directors are here, clapping and enjoying Joseph’s show. Brandt is in the middle like a ringmaster, fielding questions about Joseph and boasting about the great future of Nanodyne. He tells the soldier to go get the test subject, whoever that is, and the poor guy marches off on his next quest. Joseph finally notices me and I see that his eyes are wide with terror. He does not move, just stands there with his arms at his sides, breathing heavily.

Brandt tells the big wigs that the demonstration will begin shortly and walks over to me. He quietly tells me that he has a very important job for me. He explains that Joseph will kill someone to prove that they have complete control over him, and when he does I am going to kill the board of directors to prove my loyalty. I look at him, shocked beyond words. He says that Nanodyne has lost its way, that the fossils and yes men gathered in this room have no stomach for the decisions required to be true competitors in the ugly world of arms dealing. Once they have been removed, he can finally step in and help Nanodyne take its rightful place as the world’s greatest and most powerful defense companies, powerful than some whole countries. Governments will fall over themselves to stay in the corporation’s good graces. Wars will be decided by what will be most beneficial to Nanodyne. And it all started with me, he says with an affectionate smile, and he will never forget that. He loves me like a daughter. The look in his eyes, ranting speech not withstanding, tells me that he has completely lost his mind. I can’t think of what to say, and my hesitation visibly angers him. Kill them, he hisses, or he will order Joseph to kill me as well. The soldier returns and the surprises keep on coming because following him is a very lost and confused Candy. The test subject, now I get it.

Candy

Just when I formulated a nice little plan to bolt as soon as they open the door and run out of here as fast as I could, come hell or high water, a soldier opens the door and I completely lose my nerve. Without a word, he grabs my arm and starts to drag me down the hall. I fight and swipe at him, but his grip is iron and he doesn’t even seem to notice my meager blows. He pulls me into a large room and it looks like the gang is all here. There is Joseph, looking happy to see me but standing firmly in place, Molly looking surprised to see me but white as a sheet for what I assume to be different reasons, and Brandt, eyeing me with an evil grin. There are a bunch of suits on the opposite side of the room, watching me with interest. I start to ask what this is all about but the soldier throws me to the ground roughly. He steps back while I hurl insults at him and Brandt takes the floor. Ladies and gentlemen, he says to the suits, this piece of trash is a drug dealer and a prostitute. That’s really not fair. He says that I am a blight on society, that filth like me is what keeps the world in such constant turmoil. He is really laying it on thick. I don’t recall him complaining when I was shoving light bulbs up his ass while he cried and called me mommy. As a demonstration of our complete control over subject beta, he continues while pointing to Joseph, I will now order him to kill this girl and rid the world of one small bit of the slime that thrives on misery. Oh shit. I hop to my feet and back away, looking for a way to escape. The soldier stands at the only door in the room, and he looks ready for action. Brandt looks Joseph right in the eyes and simply says “do it.” Joseph doesn’t move at first, eyes wide with disbelief, but he haltingly starts to advance toward me, walking like Frankenstein. I try to reason with him, as he gets closer, I tell him he doesn’t have to follow this crazy asshole’s orders. Unfortunately, my pleas appear to be falling on deaf ears because he keeps on coming. It looks like I am going to have to take him down.

When he gets into reaching distance, I kick him square in the nuts. I have used this old standby many, many times to great success but this is the first time I’ve ever seen it have absolutely no effect. He just stands there, grimacing in obvious pain, but makes no move to indicate that I did anything but hurt his feelings. In my surprise, I forget that I should be retreating, and my chance passes up as he wraps his hands around my throat and begins to squeeze.

Joseph

Oh god no, please don’t do this, I have to stop but I can’t make my arms listen to me and let go of Candy’s throat. My balls are screaming in pain from when she kicked me, but I keep on going under Wong’s control. Candy is crying and begging through choked sobs, and I start crying too. I can’t kill her, I love her, I have to fight. No matter how hard I try though, it is no use. She is starting to black out, I can see the light fading from her eyes. The board are all intently watching this poor girl get murdered, as if they were watching a movie. Cleaver seems satisfied, I think this is the first time I can ever remember him looking pleased by my actions. I notice that Molly is stalking up behind them all unnoticed, and for some reason she has a large pistol in her left hand. She has the barrel pointed at the back of Cleaver’s head, and I forget about the fact that I am choking Candy to death for just a moment to wonder why in the hell she is about to shoot our boss.

Molly

The only sound in the room is Candy’s terrible choking screams, which grow fainter by the second. Everyone else has their breath held, watching this disgusting spectacle. No one notices me pull a gun and walk right up behind their row of chairs. Wong is furiously concentrating on controlling both of us and Brandt is next to him, watching me and mentally goading me on. My gun is inches from Mr. Cleaver’s head, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Do or die time. The crowd gasps and I open my eyes to see that Joseph has managed to pull one of his arms away momentarily. Wong regains control and snaps it back to Candy’s neck, but that was all the distraction I needed. Before he can react, I toss the gun into my right hand and shoot Wong in the throat. That was messier than I planned on, blood sprays the console as he falls to the floor gurgling and choking. Brandt ducks behind the console when I point the gun in his direction. The control link severed, Joseph releases Candy and they both fall to the floor. She is barely conscious, but she still manages to kick him in the face as he hold his groin and apologizes profusely. The board have all begun to panic, and they take to their feet and scurry to the door. Lucky for me they are blocking the line of fire of the soldier who wants very much to shoot me. I yell for Joseph to get up and get Brandt before he can, and I am too late as he manages to reach up to the console. My left hand snatches the gun from my right and points the weapon to my temple. So much for that plan. I close my eyes and wait for the shot but instead I get the wind knocked out of me as a heavy body crashes into mine and knocks me to the floor. The gun goes off and deafens my ear, but I don’t feel any pain. I open my eyes to see Joseph on top of me, pinning my left arm to the floor while Brandt makes it fire harmless rounds into the wall. He figures out the controls for Joseph and now he is choking me instead. I try to hit him with my right fist but I have no leverage, and hitting him is like hitting a wall. I start seeing spots, it looks like this is finally the end.

Candy

When I finally get my breath back the room is in complete pandemonium. The soldier at the door is trying to clear away the panicking suits who are clinging to him desperately for protection. Joseph is on top of Molly and apparently choking her now, and Freidrich is hiding behind some big console, twiddling dials and watching them. It all clicks now. I charge Freidrich with a furious shriek and damn near kick his head off. He falls to the floor with a cry and Joseph jerks back off of Molly. The guard finally pulls clear and aims his rifle at me, but Molly shoots him clean through the heart and the poor bastard crumples to the floor without a sound. Joseph storms over, fire in his eyes, and pulls Freidrich off the floor. He raises his hand to punch his face in, but the floor buckles hard with a massive explosion from somewhere else in the complex and everyone freezes. Jesus, what the fuck was that? There are shouts and gunshots from outside the room. Freidrich manages to pull away from Joseph and he runs to the downed soldier, pulling the man’s radio from his belt. Molly tries to shoot him but the gun clicks and it sounds like she is out of bullets. Freddy screams into the radio to initiate termination of alpha and beta, but the panicked reply on the other end apparently isn’t a confirmation. The hootenanny outside is really starting to sound close, there are small explosions and the screams of men dying just outside the door. Freidrich picks up the dead soldier’s rifle, cocks it, and gets absolutely demolished by the metal door as it is blown off of its hinges from the outside. The thing knocks him clear across the room, and it looks like that will do it for him. I can only see his lower half from under the door where it landed, and I am oddly reminded of the Wizard of Oz. I half expect his legs and feet to shrivel up and disappear. The smoke from the charge clears and who should walk in but General Xu, accompanied by quite a lot of men. He looks just as surprised to see me as I am to see him. I backpedal and stand next to Molly, who is standing there like she is ready for a fight. Joseph joins us, and we stand there and wait for Xu’s move.

NaNoWriMo Day 27

2007-11-27T15:07:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 45,028

Candy

I can feel the searing heat of the glowing branding iron begin to burn my skin before it even touches me. The brander holds it just inches from my forehead, taunting me. Fayed watches, grinning like a wolf. Even the slave quarters guard is here, apparently someone woke him up. He watches angrily with a rag to the back of his head. I am guessing that he is in for some sort of punishment as well, for letting me escape. I am crying hysterically, begging and pleading and cursing and whatever else I can do to convince them not to brand me. I never relied solely on my looks to get by, but it was a nice option in a pinch.

Just before he plunges the white-hot metal into my vulnerable flesh, there is a large commotion upstairs. Fayed’s attention snaps upward and the brander backs off just a little, looking up as well. The commotion continues down the stairs they dragged me through and who should burst in the door of the torture room but Freidrich Brandt and a handful of armed new regime soldiers. He tells Fayed to stop what he is doing, which obviously doesn’t go over very well. Fayed demands to know the meaning of this intrusion. Freidrich tells his men to lower their weapons, to try and calm the room a little. He tells Fayed that he has come for the slave girl, and with a jolt of relief I realize that he is talking about me. He says that he is willing to pay any price that Fayed thinks is fair for my release. Fayed’s gaze travels back and forth between me and Freidrich, I can see in his eyes the internal struggle between greed and cruelty. Luckily for me, greed wins and he names a ridiculous price that makes me feel awful important. Freidrich nods without hesitation and one of his soldiers pulls an astonishing wad of bills from a knapsack. Freidrich hands it to Fayed, who tosses it to one of his guys. He approaches me and takes my chin in his hand softly. This is the luckiest day of my life, he says, he hopes that I will cherish it forever. Fuckin’ A right I will.

They release me and I run over to the apparent safety of Freddy and his guards. I shoot a hateful glare at that little snitch Bilanna and she sticks her tongue out at me petulantly. Her loss. Freddy takes me by the arm and we retreat out of the palace slowly and carefully, things still just a little bit tense. When we walk out into the stifling hot air and I am finally free, joy bursts from my heart in a way that I never thought it would again. I take Freddy’s hand and begin gushing my thanks, and he responds by slapping me in the face. He calls me a whore and tells me to keep my filthy mouthy shut until I am spoken too. I must say, that was not the reception that I expected.

We board a helicopter and take off, the soldiers watching me closely. I start getting quite nervous, perhaps I have just been rescued into a situation worse than being a disfigured sex slave for the rest of my life. If that’s even possible.

The helicopter drops us off seemingly in the middle of nowhere then takes off again. One of the soldiers starts to fiddle with a metal hatch, which is the only distinguishable thing in the area. Freidrich pushes me to the edge and I look down to see a ladder descending into blackness. He tells me to climb down, so down I go. The drop is huge, and a fluorescent glow gets brighter as I reach the bottom. Freddy is right behind me, or right on top of me as it were. I finally reach the bottom and gape in astonishment at the huge space we are in. Some sort of underground complex, apparently that’s where he has been hiding this whole time. I’m still confused about the soldiers accompanying him but I don’t want another slap so I can’t really ask about it. If Freddy came to take me from Fayed, then Joseph must have found him and might just be here too. Hopefully he can talk some sense into mean old Freddy here, if I can find him.

I am hustled down long, featureless hallways, passing the occasional posted guard along the way. This place is huge, I can’t believe I never heard about it. We come to a door and Freidrich opens it, shoving me inside the small living space. He shoves me in and tells me to stay put and not to make a sound. With that, he locks the door behind me and I am alone with my chaotic thoughts.

Molly

I can’t stop pacing around my room. Physically dismantling those men was such a rush, but part of me is very concerned about just what they have turned me into. At the beginning, Brandt said that I was going to be some sort of super soldier, but I never considered the life that would accompany that. I especially didn’t think that I would not have control of a part of myself ever again. Is this how it is going to be? The life of a hired gun, traveling to exotic locales and killing who needs to be killed, just like in the simulations? I thought those were all fun and games, I never imagined that Nanodyne might be involved in so much violence and intrigue. Unless they plan on selling me as a weapon, the company is a defense contractor after all. I still have no clue how Joseph is involved in all of this. I never thought that I could be honed into a ruthless killing machine but they did it. Could they do the same to him? I laughed with the thought, I couldn’t even imagine Joseph being trained to kill roaches.

One final test, then I begin the life of a mercenary. I think back to how things were back at home, and what, if anything, I was really giving up. My cozy little apartment. My modest group of friends who would more likely be classified as casual acquaintances as far as anyone else might be concerned. My mother, who might just start to be wondering where I’ve gone if she has even noticed that I am not around. The job I took just to pay the rent until I could find a useful way to benefit from my psychology degree. The company oath that I swore without even considering the consequences. Breaking the oath is tantamount to treason, and Nanodyne is fully legally entitled to punish treason with death. I have to remember to be more careful with what I agree to in the future. Physically wired but mentally exhausted from all of this introspection, I take a sleeping pill, then two more, and fall into a fitful sleep. The big test is tomorrow, I want to be in my best shape.

Joseph

This time when I wake up I am relieved that I can open my eyes. I am in an operating room, on a table, and my head is killing me. I sit up and groan with the wave of pain and nausea that accompanies being upright. There is a pitcher of water next to the table and I drink straight from it as if I was dying of thirst. A man in doctor gear that I don’t recognize comes in and asks how I am feeling. I hoarsely tell him about the headache and he nods, making his way to a tray of needles. He tells me to relax and plunges a syringe gun into my neck. Just like that, the pain floats away and I feel absolutely dreamy. He looks into my eyes, tests my reflexes with the little rubber hammer on the knee trick, and asks if I feel well enough to stand. I agree that I do and rise, a little unsteady at first but not too bad. He asks me to stand on one foot and hold it, which I do without too much difficulty. He has me touch my nose, do a few jumping jacks, walk a straight line, it is starting to feel like I got pulled over on a DUI. Finally, he seems satisfied and he hands me some clothes telling me that he will be in the next room while I change. I put on the clothes quickly and head out of the operating room.

There are big consoles and blinking lights all over the place, it looks like some sort of control room. Brandt is huddled over a mound of diagrams and papers. He acknowledges my presence with a slight nod and asks how I am feeling. I reply that I feel pretty good and asked what happened. He puts down his pen and approaches me, looking me right in the eyes. He explains that I, along with Molly, were chosen specially for an exciting project. It may be the drugs, but I am actually more impressed about this than upset. When I ask about the experiment he grins and cryptically says that I will find out soon enough. He glances over at Wong, who I didn’t even notice was sitting at one of the big consoles, and asks if he is all set. Wong nods, pushes a button, and just like that I can’t move. I start to hyperventilate and Brandt tells me to calm down, they are just getting some baseline rest readings. Since I don’t understand what he means, this fails to reassure me. Without any input from me, my arms shoot straight out, hands turning to face upward, my knees bend, then the whole routine is topped off with a little hop. The only thing under my control is my eyes, and I look over to see Wong looking very pleased with himself. Brandt also seems quite tickled by the display. My body stands upright stiffly, then does a ridiculously acrobatic back flip that I know I never would have been capable of on my own. Apparently everyone else is just as impressed as I was. Wong does a few more tricks with my unwilling body, then like a flick of a switch I am back in control. I back up against the wall in horror, staring at the hands that are once more acting as they should. I ask what the hell they did to me and the smug bastard Brandt again tells me to calm down. He explains that they have implanted a device into my brain that allows them complete control over my motor functions. Under their direction, I am capable of much, much more than I ever have been before. I ask why me, and he chuckles. Apparently my psychological profile indicated a strong desire to serve and to succeed. Now, thanks to the gift they have given me, I can be the greatest asset Nanodyne has ever produced. Even through my panic, I kind of like the sound of that. I ask why they would need control of me and he tells me that my successful procedure opens the door to the possibility of an army of soldiers that can be controlled with perfect efficiency by a single tactical mind. Molly was the first step, once they figured out how to control one limb it was a hop, skip, and jump to full body control. She was an unexpected success, but I, he says, am a veritable masterpiece.

He orders one of the soldiers standing at the door to accompany me to the mess hall. He tells me to get a good meal and go to my room and rest. It has been a big day. I am too flabbergasted to protest, so I obediently follow the soldier. I eat spaghetti but I don’t really taste it, my mind is reeling too much for me to do anything but robotically shove the food into my mouth. Unless I’m not doing that and it is them controlling me once more. With a start, I drop the fork and a few other diners look at me quizzically. Am I going to spend the rest of my life wondering if I am the one controlling my every move? Oddly enough, the first thought I have is about jerking off, and how uncomfortable that is going to be in relation to this train of thought.

The soldier looks at me to ask if I am finished, and I nod. We walk to my room and he leaves. I sit on the bed and try to slow my heart rate. The company oath said something about them owning every part of me, and I certainly meant it when I agreed, but I never in my wildest dreams thought it would mean something like this. A guinea pig. Not exactly the big important management career I imagined for myself. That fucker Jenkins probably knew the whole time, that’s why he’s been so intolerable lately. While I am being paraded around and made to do silly tricks for amused audiences who are interested in purchasing meat puppets that they can throw into battle, he will be sitting in my corner office with his feet up on the desk, laughing his ass off. God damn him.

I can’t believe that asshole Brandt told me to rest. Hey buddy, we just made you a freak and ruined your life as you know it, but try to get some shuteye, ‘kay? Shit. Oh man, my mother is going to kill me. She is always so proud to tell her jealous friends about her big shot successful corporate son. Somehow I doubt that she will be as happy to gush about her son the dancing, hopping, flipping war monkey. I become lost in these thoughts, obsessing over everything in my life that no longer has any meaning, and I jump when the soldier who dropped me off before opens the door and tells me it is time. Time for what, I ask. He just jerks his head for me to follow, and with a sigh I do.

We enter a large room and I stop with a gasp. The old man is sitting there, along with Jenkins and half the Nanodyne board of directors. Cleaver stands and walks over to me regally. He shakes my hand and tells me that he couldn’t be prouder of me. Thanks to me, Nanodyne is now once again the world’s most cutting-edge defense company. Jenkins, still sitting behind him, nods like a sycophant with a little grin on his stupid face. Brandt asks the board if they would like to see a demonstration and they nod excitedly. He gestures to Wong, across the room at his control board, and the sickening loss of control comes again. The board claps and gasps delightedly at the tricks they have me do. Amazing feats that only a highly-trained athlete should be able to pull off, and a schlub like me is pulling them off with gusto. I land on my feet after a particularly exciting somersault and I am back in control, breathing heavily. As you can see, Brandt says proudly, we are now capable of amazing things. Nanodyne is on the verge of a very exciting and profitable new era. The board applauds this, and the old man nods his head with a smile.

Jenkins raises his hand like the snotty know-it-all kid in elementary school and asks how they can be sure of my complete compliance with whatever instructions they give me. Brandt tells him that this is an excellent question, and Jenkins beams like he just got a treat for being such a good boy. They have arranged a demonstration that will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will carry out any order that they give, no matter how questionable I may find it. He tells my escort soldier to fetch the test subject and off he goes. I really don’t like where this is heading.

NaNoWriMo Day 26

2007-11-26T15:13:00.000-05:00

Short one today, so very close to the end...

Word Count: 42,327

Molly

The three brutes advance on me, slowly. They each outweigh me by at least 100 pounds, and one of them is an absolute hulk. He is the closest, his eyes tell me that he has been waiting for something like this for a long, long time. I stand there calmly, letting the big one get closer. When he is within arm’s reach I strike. Like a whirlwind I drop to my knees and lash out with my left hand. I grab the fabric of his crotch and squeeze until I feel meat, then I pull as hard as I can. There is a terrible wet tearing sound, topped by an even more terrible scream. His fatigues look like he pissed himself in blood and he falls to the floor half wheezing and half crying. This shocking act of brutality makes the other two pause and reconsider their plans of attack. They both charge me at once with arms outstretched. I easily roll under their grasp and donkey kick one of the men in the back of the knee. Something snaps and he crumples to the floor with a sharp cry. The one left standing tries to stomp on me and I catch his boot. I roll sideways with his leg still in hand and it pops out of his hip joint violently. He goes down screaming and I stand and kick him hard under the chin. Teeth fly and he is out of the fight. The guard with the shattered knee tries feebly to stand, telling me to stay away from him. I slap him across the face, leaving a big red hand print on his cheek. He looks up at me in utter terror and begs for his life. I glance as Brandt who looks pleased as punch with the demonstration. The fucker looks so smug that it makes me want to smash his face in. I try for the element of surprise and charge him, but my arm jerks up and grabs my throat, clamping hard. I sink to my knees, struggling to breathe, and the room starts going swimmy. Brandt stands over me and reminds me that they are in complete control. I nod weakly, and my arm lets up. I cough and gasp while Brandt orders more guards to cart these sad sacks off to the infirmary.

Grabbing me by the collar, Brandt tells me that if I continue to misbehave they will be forced to lobotomize me, turning me into a drooling emotionless killing machine. I certainly do not like the sound of that. He asks sternly if I can be trusted from now on. I pause, staring hard into his eyes, and finally acquiesce. I will follow orders, I promise. He nods, satisfied. He tells me to get some rest, there will be one more test before I am ready to leave. It sounds like it is going to be a doozy.

Joseph

I can’t move, but it’s just as well because I can’t make my eyes open either. Voices come and go around me, snatches of conversations that I can’t understand. At one point, two of them are arguing. One voice says something about being too soon, and the other replies that they are too far behind schedule and will have to risk moving forward now. He says that the success of subject alpha proves that they have perfected the technique. Before I drift back out of consciousness, the second voice says something about finding the whore, that she will be an excellent test. I slip away and dream for a while, strange visions of masked figures huddling over me and sticking metal things in my face. There is a distinct feeling of loss of self, as if they are drilling right into my brain and yanking out everything that makes me who I am. A most unpleasant feeling, indeed.

NaNoWriMo Day 24

2007-11-24T15:25:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 41,679

Candy

Oh god, every inch of me is in utter agony. I’ve had it rough before, hell I’ve been raped before, but I’ve never had it given to me like that. Fayed is a complete and unapologetic sadist. My insides went cold when he came into the pen that held all of us captive girls. Various wealthy-looking men came while we huddled there, each man picking and choosing the girl he wanted to own. I was grateful each and every time I was passed over, but now I wished I had been taken by someone halfway sane. Fayed’s eyes locked on mine as soon as he entered the pen, and before I was able to cast mine away I saw pure hatred in those dark black pupils. I prayed that he would pass me by but I just knew my luck had run out. He didn’t even look at anyone else, he pointed me out to one of the guards and two men hoisted me up and dragged me out of there kicking and screaming. My outburst only seemed to please Fayed as he followed behind us, a slight smile crossed his face while I struggled. Someone put a hood over my head and I was stuffed into the trunk of a car. I jostled around painfully for the entire long trip, and I heard various men talking and joking jovially inside the car, as if they were returning from the market, rather than an underground slave market where they had just purchased me to do with whatever they pleased.

After what felt like hours, the car stopped and shut off. I gasped at the fresh air through the hood when they opened the trunk, and strong arms hauled me out and threw me over the shoulder in a fireman’s carry. They set me down after a bit and someone took the hood off, along with everything else I was wearing, and I stood there nude in a large ornate room. The place looked like a palace, and I wondered if Fayed was some sort of royalty. He ran his cruel eyes over my body and nodded his approval, then left the room. One of his flunkies lead me over to a plump old woman with a tired face. He told me that this is Marta, to do whatever she said. She took my hand gently and we walked down gorgeous hallways to what I assumed to be the slave quarters, which obviously weren’t quite as nice as the rest of the joint. She had me get down on my hands and knees in a large tub and began to wash me like a dog with a bucket of hot water. I was too emotionally drained to protest while she roughly scrubbed every intimate area of my body. As she washed, she explained the rules of the house and what was expected of me. She warned me gravely of the consequences for insubordination. When she was done, she dried me off with a painfully scratchy towel and handed me a silk robe. Grateful to be covered once more, I let her take me to a small kitchen where two other girls prepared a stew of some sort. She introduced me to my fellow slaves. The first girl, Ilya, looked Persian. She was very pretty, a little bit older than me. She had the same tired expression as Marta. The other girl, Bilanna, couldn’t have been more than thirteen. When I realized this, I stopped feeling sorry for myself for just a moment. Her skin was snow white, with curly blonde hair. I’d guess Norwegian maybe. She didn’t look as defeated as the others, maybe it was just her youth. Marta told me to start peeling carrots and I jumped right into it, thankful to have something to concentrate on other than the fact that my life was basically over.

That night was when Fayed first summoned me. The things he did, I don’t dare to remember for fear of completely losing my shit. I am curled up in a ball in our cramped sleeping quarters, shivering uncontrollably while Ilya and Bilanna sleep on either side of me.

The days go by, sometimes it is Fayed who has his way with me, sometimes it is mercifully one of his servants or guests. He doesn’t seem picky about who has their way with his newest acquisition. The sessions with him are like nightmares, creating scars both internal and external that I fear may never heal. Between these awful episodes, the other girls and I cook, clean, and live quiet little lives. It saddens me when Bilanna is summoned, I hope that evil bastard doesn’t subject her to the same horrors as he does me. We never talk. No one ever expressly forbade it, but I think we all just prefer to suffer in silence.

Before long I am completely dead inside, I make it through each day like a robot, with no hope of ever being happy again. Every once in a while, the guard who stood at the entrance to the slave chambers would wake me up and pull me to the kitchen for a little midnight romp. I didn’t mind so much, he was gentle and actually somewhat giving. Not that I could ever hope to deride any pleasure from this, but it was a welcome relief compared to some of the more forceful rapists that inhabited this horrible place. This particular night, he is going at it vigorously with me bent over the sink. He cums quickly, he usually does, and then the strangest thing happens. He steps back, his limp penis still dripping semen, and he slips on a small puddle of water on the floor. He hits his head with a violent crack on the stove behind him as he goes down, and just like that he is unconscious. I freeze and look at him, pants around his ankles lying prone on the kitchen floor, with blood beginning to pool behind his head. I realize with a rush of excited energy that he is the only person watching the slave quarters, and there is very likely no one else up because of the late hour. Quickly and quietly I sprint out of our quarters and into the dark hallway. I know the place pretty well from all of the trips I have taken after being summoned. If I am careful, I just might be able to make it out of here.

I stick to the shadows like an expert cat burglar, tiptoeing down one hall and stopping to listen for any activity. The front door is so close, but I can’t afford to be reckless now. My heart jumps into my throat and I freeze when I hear someone coming down the hall toward me. I duck behind a large vase and hold my breath. Who should come walking by, looking very much the worse for wear but Bilanna. If I do one right thing in this life, it would be getting this poor girl out of here. I stand with a smile and she freezes like a deer in the headlights. I motion for her to follow me and she just stands there with a blank shocked expression. Then she does the worst thing in the world. She opens her mouth and lets of a piercing scream that just goes on and on, echoing through the dark hallways. Oh you stupid little cunt. Just like that, guards are everywhere, and she starts hysterically pointing at me and yelling that I am trying to escape. So much for sisterhood among slaves.

A guard tackles me to the floor brutally, knocking the wind out of me. Fayed comes from his bedchambers and looks at me lying there, coughing and struggling to breathe. He shakes his head in disappointment, and announces that I am to be punished for my insubordination this very instant. They drag me downstairs to a stone basement room that I have never been in. There are shackles on the wall, which I am promptly put on my knees and locked into, and a large basin with a roaring fire. It looks like a torture chamber, and I am befuddled as to why Fayed hasn’t brought me here before. It seems like his style. There is a small crowd gathered, including Marta, Bilanna, and Ilya. That little bitch Bilanna is on her knees by Fayed, one arm wrapping around his leg like a teddy bear. He clears his throat and the room falls dead silent. For trying to escape, he says coldly, I am to be marked so that anyone who looks upon me will know that I am his property. I really don’t like the sound of that. One of his men pulls a long metal pole from the fire and I realize with panic that it is a branding iron. Oh no no no no. Two men hold my head as the one with the branding iron approaches with a smile. I start wailing when I see that he is going to put it right on my forehead. Things have gone from bad to much, much worse, all because I can’t behave myself and do what I am told.

NaNoWriMo Day 23

2007-11-23T14:47:00.000-05:00

Big one today, I had to make up for the Thanksgiving slacking.

Word Count: 40,134

Joseph

This Brandt character refuses to be straight with me, and he is really starting to piss me off. He explained about the government, about Molly and the experiment, about the need to fabricate the whole search and rescue thing to get us here, but something still doesn’t seem right. I ask him why even bother with all of the cloak and dagger crap if they were already powerful enough to take down the government and he gives me some bullshit about maintaining balance and not ruffling feathers. He seems to blame me for the fact that they had to play their hand earlier than they wanted because I refused to take the right steps that would lead to an inconspicuous extraction. I asked why they didn’t take me when they conked me on the head in the lab and he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. He says that no one hit me, I knocked myself out when I stood up to fast and hit my head on the corner of a cabinet. They were watching the whole time on security cameras. I have to admit, I am a little embarrassed by this, but I plow ahead anyway. I understand why they wanted Molly the wallflower, but what, pray tell, did they need from me. Again, he refuses to provide a suitable answer. I don’t know what they’ve done with Molly, but she seemed so broken. Whatever little scheme they have going on here doesn’t sit well at all.

After we leave Molly with the other doctor, Brandt takes me to see Dr. Wong for some tests. The rest of the day is filled with grueling physical tests, none of which I do very well on. Wong seems upbeat still, he’s a nice little fellow. Next is a bunch of psychiatrist nonsense, what does this blot look like to you and all that stuff. Then things get weird. They give me this big test, a multiple choice kind of thing. It has all of these questions asking how I would respond to certain situations, sort of like that robot detector test in that old movie Blade Runner. They start off innocently enough at first, if you found a wallet with lots of money etc, etc, but then they start to get really messed up. Would I kill the President if I knew he was going to send innocent people to their deaths? Could I cut my own leg off to keep from freezing to death in the wild? Crazy stuff. I do the best I can, there is stuff here I never even imagined ever happening to me, and it takes a while to get over the initial shock to even begin to imagine how I might respond. Finally, the test is over and I am drained.

Brandt walks me back to the room that they set up for me and tells me that I am free to visit the mess hall or the media room whenever I feel. I ask if he has had any progress in locating Candy and he shakes his head dismissively. Bastard, I bet he’s not even looking for her. I can’t let her go out like that, not after all the times she saved my butt. I decide right then and there that I am going to take a more proactive role in rescuing Candy. They obviously need me for something important around here, so I can’t imagine they will kill me for not following the rules.

After waiting long enough to be sure that Brandt is long gone, I sneak back out of the room and pick a hallway at random. I have no idea where I am going or what I will do to help Candy once I get there, but anything is better than sitting around doing nothing. There are guards posted here and there, but none of them seem to pay me too much attention as long as I stroll past them like I actually know where I am going. Some of the doors they are posted at look interesting, but I can’t imagine they will let me just walk right into one of them without some sort of pass. I’m pushing my luck as it is. After a series of rights and lefts and u-turns, the hallway ends at a large set of double doors. The doors are unguarded, it looks like this is worth checking out.

The large room is dark and smells absolutely terrible. I find a light switch and a series of fluorescent bulbs crackle to life overhead. Figures, the one room I pick to snoop in is a friggin’ garbage room. No wonder it was unguarded. There are a ton of bags strewn around the room, including a lot of those red biohazard bags that always look like bad news. I toe the one nearest to me and it gives with a sickening squish. I suppress a gag and back away from the bag, right into the broad chest of the soldier that I didn’t hear come into the room behind me. He pops me one in the jaw and down for the count I go once again.

Molly

Time drags painfully until it’s finally time for the afternoon session. I head to the lab and acknowledge Brandt and Dr. Wong with a stiff nod before climbing into the rig. Dr. Wong is his cheery old self but Brandt eyes me carefully, perhaps noticing the change in my demeanor. Dr. Wong asks if I am ready to go. I give him the thumbs up and in the blink of an eye, I am in a busy street café huddled over a table with Marlow, one of the artificial squad members that I have worked with a number of times. Marlow is gruff and very no nonsense. He keeps eyeing the street behind me, watching the faces of the pedestrians who walk by. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder and wait patiently until he begins the briefing.

There is a cult, he explains, that is currently holed up in a cave in Eastern Russo-China. The leader of the cult is a former arms dealer named Sergei who turned into a divine prophet and started calling himself The Hand of the Righteous. He currently has two hundred men, women, and children barricaded in a deep cave for a mass suicide pact, under the impression that taking their lives will lead to ultimate salvation. I make the offhand remark that I’ve never been sent in on a rescue mission and he shakes his head. The powers that be don’t give two shits about those people, he tells me, they just want Sergei. It seems The Hand of the Righteous got his hands on a nasty experimental chemical weapon that is highly illegal under the revised Geneva Convention rules and would cause a giant headache for a major world superpower if Sergei gassed his flock with it and the rest of the world found out that they were messing around with the stuff. So, this major superpower would like to politely ask him just where he got it. Suicidal peasants be damned, Sergei is the only one who matters.

As he finishes, Marlow’s eyes catch something in the crowd behind me and I finally can’t help but turn just enough to see what it is. A nondescript man in a trench coat is approaching our table quickly. He sits without asking and looks at Marlow expectantly. Marlow stares him down as if to show him who is boss and introduces the bespectacled man as Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith is an expert in religious fanaticism and cult psychology, and he will help me to gain access so I can get close to Sergei. I look at him just as he should expect me to look at him after telling me that I have to escort a shrink into a dangerous situation and he shrugs at me in a way that can only mean “brass orders.” He tells me that the chopper lifts off in an hour and leaves just enough money for the check, with no tip. Great, now I’ll look like a bitch. I fish a few bills out of my pocket, nod to Smith, and hit the streets for a walk to clear my head before the mission.

An hour and a half later we are cruising low over the ravaged countryside of Eastern Russo-China. I glance over at Smith and smile because he looks very much the worse for wear. He has turned an alarming shade of green and is hunched over with his head between his knees. I have two other squad mates, Peretti is a hoo-ra tough chick that doesn’t talk much and Thompson is an affable kid from the US Midwest who is by all accounts one of the finest marksmen in the world. He lovingly cleans his rifle as we fly, oiling each and every last little metal piece before sliding it back into place. Brass couldn’t get the clearance for a proper landing, as would be expected, so we are going in hot and fast. I can’t wait to see Smith flailing his way down a drop wire. We enter a cold misty mountainous region, the objective is very near now. The Russo military has set up camp outside of the cave where Sergei and his people are holed up. Topography and satellite found what is hopefully a series of connecting caves that start six miles from the main chamber. That is our way in and it isn’t going to be easy. Things go smooth at the drop point, Peretti wasted no time with Smith and slung his skinny ass over her shoulder as she dropped from the copter. I go last, and as soon as my feet hit the mud the chopper is gone in a flash. I nod to the squad and motion for them to form up on me. I already told Smith to stay between us and not to make a sound unless prompted. The cave is dark and foreboding, but I’ve been in worse places in my short career as a mercenary. The path gets rough in a hurry, we have to repel down sheer cliffs, belly-crawl through nauseatingly claustrophobic tunnels, and slog through brackish waist-deep waters. About two thirds of the way there, I hear voices and see a light at the end of the tunnel we popped up in after a particularly treacherous pass. I motion for the team to halt and silently approach the figures ahead. It looks like the first of our fanatics, they are having a fierce argument about something. One of them, a large older man is trying to drag some punk kid down the tunnel in our direction, and the kid is resisting with all of his might, spitting in the man’s face like an animal. I nearly jump out of my skin when Smith plops down next to me with his attention focused fully on the two men. Before I can order him back he stands and approaches the men with his hands held out.

The arguing men stop and look at him with fright, and the teenager pulls away and runs in the opposite direction. I curse and jump to my feet, waving the squad to follow. I knock Smith over in my rush and yell back at Thompson to detain the older man. The kid has a good head start but I am fast as lightning and it is mere seconds before I see him hoofing it in front of me. He glances back in terror while I click my scope over to night vision. I take a knee, aiming carefully, and with a silenced click I put a round through the back of his neck and out his throat so he can’t cry out. He crumples like a rag doll and lays motionless. It is then I realize that I took the shot with my right hand, under my own volition. I decide not to ponder on this and run to retrieve the body. He is still gasping when I reach him, drowning in his own blood. I hold his mouth and nose shut while he looks at me with wild eyes, until the light goes out and he dies. I drag his corpse back to the rest of the squad and the old man wails in anguish through the gag that Thompson put on him. I grab Smith and slam him against the cave wall, telling him in whispers that I will not hesitate to do the same to him the next time he doesn’t follow simple orders. He is shaking, and I can tell by his eyes that he knows I mean it. Satisfied that he understands the way things are going to be, I tell him to quietly interrogate the old man and find out the situation ahead.

After much blubbering, he manages to get out of the man that the fanatics are starting to question the leadership of The Hand, and some of them want to escape. The boy I killed was his son, but he wasn’t able to convince him that they should get out of there before they died. He gives us a basic layout of where everyone is located in the main chamber, and that is all he is able to offer. I tell Thompson to kill him and move forward without looking back to see if he actually does it.

Soon we are at the cusp of the main chamber, I can hear hushed voices arguing, joyful voices singing, and one strong male voice chanting something over the rest of the cacophony. I nod to the others and they take my lead by putting on their gas masks. On my mark, Peretti fires four canisters of tear gas into the main chamber and we rush into the ensuing chaos, weapons hot. There are peasants choking and gagging all around us, wailing and falling to their knees. I give anyone who gets in my way a big boot in the face as I push forward to the throne where our man Sergei should be. When I break through the throng and the smoke, I stop. There sits The Hand, wearing his own gas mask and holding a weeping young woman before him as a shield with an ornamental sword to her throat. I yell for Smith and he is at my side in an instant. He approaches the throne with a bow, and Sergei nods for him to come forward. They exchange words, Smith sounding particularly placating, and it looks like he might actually be making some progress. That thought is dashed to pieces when, without warning, Sergei swings the sword from the girls throat and lops Smith’s head clean off with one powerful swing. Well shit, I hope brass didn’t think he was too valuable. In a flash, Sergei has the sword back at the girls throat and her sobs have turned to shrieks because Smith’s blood hit her like a geyser. Peretti and Thompson have the crowd under control behind me, it’s just me and the big man here. I order him to release the girl and he laughs cruelly. Ok then, if that’s how you want to play it. Sorry darling. I put a round clean through her forehead and she drops to reveal a very surprised looking Sergei in all his regal glory. His eyes are huge through the gas mask and he stands, waving the sword in my direction. I tell him if he doesn’t drop the sword and lay on the ground I will shoot him in the testicles and he considers this for a moment before quickly complying. That little trick is always a deal breaker with men.

I bring my knee down on his back hard, and he gasps painfully just as I rip the gas mask off of his head. He retches and writhes on the ground for a while, struggling to breathe with lungs full of fire. Finally, he is subdued enough and I gather him up to march him off. He says something with a rasped voice and I don’t realize it is a curse until I notice the button in his hand that he has just pushed. There is a series of pops along the walls and I kick myself, he has just released the chemical weapon. The masks will protect us for a minute or two, but any longer than that and we are goners, just like Sergei’s people. I slap his mask back on him and shout for the team to haul ass out of the cave, there is no time to go the way we came. We are going to have to go right through a regiment of Russo soldiers. People die horribly behind me as we run, me dragging Sergei’s sorry as on the ground behind me with my super arm. He is wailing now, crying to the heavens about the things he has done. Daylight starts to show up ahead and I can only hope we are far enough ahead of the invisible gas to make it out alive.

We burst out of the cave and into the blinding sunlight at full speed, right into a mess of very surprised looking soldiers. It takes them a few blessed seconds to realize who we are and what we are doing before they open fire, just enough time for us to take cover behind a small tank. Thompson and Peretti begin to return fire and I tuck Sergei under the tank and tell him to stay put. The turret of our sheltering tank swivels impotently, unable to get an angle on us. The gunner fires a few shells into the cave wall behind us, but all it does is annoy me. I pull a grenade from my belt and jam it into the barrel, yelling for everyone to duck and cover. The explosion bursts the end of the barrel into shards, and the resulting kickback slams into the interior of the tank. There are anguished screams from the bowels of the metal hull, but they die out quickly. One down, two hundred to go.

Thompson screams as a large round, probably a fifty cal, tears his arm clean off at the shoulder. Too bad he doesn’t have a cyber arm like me. Peretti drags him over and slaps him hard to keep him from going into shock. She puts a pistol in the hand he has left and he nods, rolling over to begin firing once again. To my left, I can see what looks to be an unoccupied prewar Humvee, and I decide that this will be our only chance of getting out of here. I order Peretti to scramble right, take position behind the boulder and I would follow right behind her. She gives me a look like I am crazy, but rises to her feet and hauls ass anyway, still firing. All of the enemy gunfire concentrates on her running form, just like I knew it would, and I grab Sergei and make a break ion the other direction toward the Humvee. Poor Thompson watches me go, realization creeping across his face that he is pretty much fucked. Amazingly, Peretti makes it to the boulder and the fire concentrates on her in earnest. Shells start taking the boulder apart in chunks, and like a good soldier she just keeps on firing. No one even notices me as I stuff Sergei into the back of the Humvee and jump into the driver’s side, praying that I will be able to start it. Just like in the movies, the keys are right there in the ignition, and I fire the beast up with a struggling roar. I take one last look at Peretti just in time to see a spot-on mortar shell completely obliterate her, leaving nothing much but a red stain when the smoke clears. Thompson lays motionless, having shot himself in the head rather than risk capture. The jig is finally up when I speed away, bullets clang off the armored sides of the Humvee and huge pits erupt all around us. Against all odds, we push clear of the army’s fire and we are home free to the extraction point. I clear the last hill to see the helicopter waiting for us there in the glorious sunset, and it is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.

The simulation ends and I take the visor off slowly, expecting to see a room full of shocked and angered faces. What I see instead is Brandt looking positively ecstatic. He gushes that I did an incredible job, I was willing to do whatever it took to complete the mission. He is so excited, and I am bewildered that brutality like that is what they wanted all this time. He says that the operation is finally ready, and that they couldn’t be happier with my progress. I have made them all very proud it seems, and I hate them more than I have ever hated anyone in my entire life.

Dr. Giles smiles warmly at me and tells me that he will no longer need to see me after the operation. I feel some small pang of sadness over this, remembering all of the times his kindness made me feel accomplished and worthwhile, but the anger washes over these feelings violently. I put on my girly act so that he doesn’t suspect that I no longer plan on participating in their little experiment, and I do a damn good job because Mr. big shot psychologist here doesn’t even notice the dripping sarcasm in my replies to his stupid questions. He tells me to rest up, the operation is in the morning and I will need all of my strength. Sure thing, asshole, I will be fit as a fiddle.

I go back to my room and lay down on the bed. I have some idea what they are planning, but their plans are definitely going to change once they put my arm back on. I close my eyes and drift off almost instantly, the sleep of the righteous.

I am up before the alarm goes off and there are butterflies in my stomach. The good kind, more excited than scared. There is a message that I must skip breakfast and report to the lab immediately. There waits Brandt, Wong, and a new face that I don’t recognize. He is a cold looking man, greasy black hair plastered to his skull and a pointy moustache. Brandt introduces him as Dr. Fell, he will be performing the operation today. I nod and he barely responds, turning to fiddle with the instruments that he has laid alongside an operating table that sits under a harsh light. Brandt asks me to disrobe and lay down on the table. I do so without hesitation, enjoying the way the men in the room try not to look at my body. It has certainly improved since I’ve been here, no more cellulite thighs, no more belly. I am tight and fit as a gymnast, and the boys can’t help but notice. I lie on the table and Brandt applies an anesthesia mask. As I breathe in the gas, he tells me that when I wake up I will be the most special woman in the world. He doesn’t know the half of it.

I float awash in la la land for what is probably a long time, and come to strapped to the table under the light just like the first time I woke up here. I blink off the grogginess and shake off the paralysis quicker than before. I look over and smile, my left arm is back. It looks just the same as before, except for the metal disc implanted on the underside of the wrist. I wiggle my fingers and giggle softly, it’s nice to be whole again. Footsteps approach and there is Brandt, grinning madly like Doctor Frankenstein. He asks me how I feel and I must say, I feel pretty damn good. He undoes the restraints and I sit up, stretching marvelously. The operation was a complete success, he exclaims, he couldn’t be happier with the way it turned out. I stand, a little shaky, and see Dr. Fells watching me smugly. I’ll save him for last. Dr. Wong is in the corner fiddling with some sort of instrument panel, not even noticing that I am up. This is all going just as I had planned. Gentlemen, I say confidently, your little experiment is over. In a flash I have a scalpel in my left hand and I thrust it at Brandt, stopping just centimeters from his jugular. He stammers and falls backward, landing on the floor with his hands held out to ward me off. I am on him in an instant with the scalpel, and I tell him that he is going to tell me how to get out of here right this instant. He hesitates and glances at something behind me. Just then, the now familiar sensation of losing control sparks in my arm and just like that, the scalpel blade is pointing at my eye. I scream and try to back away from my own arm, but there it stays. Brandt smirks and stands, brushing himself off. I try to pry my left arm with my right but it is no use, the limb is like steel. I see Dr. Wong watching, twiddling dials at the panel. So he is the one in control. Shit. In the simulations I never tried to actually prevent my arm from doing what it would, it never occurred to me that I might not be able to make it do what I wanted it to do if someone else wanted it to do something entirely different. So much for the plan.

Brandt asks if I am done with my little display of subordination, or should he tell Wong to gouge my eye out with my own hand? My lips begin to quiver and that old feeling of helplessness washes over me like an old comfy blanket. I tell him that I’ll be good in a tiny little voice and Brandt nods, prompting Wong to send the blade away from my eye and straight into the meat of my thigh. I cry out in pain and drop to the floor, defeated. Brandt towers over me, laughing. He hopes that I won’t forget who is in charge again, the next time he will not be so merciful. Bastard, I will take him out if I have to cut my arm off just to do it.

He pulls me to my feet and plucks the scalpel from my leg before pushing me roughly back on the table. Dr. Fell comes over and bandages the wound, which has bled surprisingly little. After that, and armed guard escorts me to my room. Brandt’s final words before we leave the lab are a warning that they will be watching me at all times, so I had better be on my best behavior.

Once locked into my room I break down, blubbering more like a frightened little girl than the badass superwoman that I began to envision myself as. Now that it is back the arm feels alien, no thanks in part to the fact that it could do whatever it wants without any say on my part. I curl up in the bed and cry my eyes out, until I mercifully pass out.

When I wake up I feel completely dead inside. A soldier opens my door and orders me out. I comply meekly, allowing him to lead me to a part of the complex that I’ve never been in. Dr. Giles is in the room we enter, and he eyes me suspiciously. I am ordered to sit in what looks like a dental chair. Dr. Giles peers into my eyes with a penlight as he tells me he is very disappointed, he thought we had an understanding. My behavior in the lab was reprehensible, and if they can’t trust me not to act out anymore I would have to be considered a failure and disposed of like the others before me. The others? There are more tests to be run on my new arm. Dr. Wong comes in and sets up his little station. Dr. Giles first hands me a soda can and tells me to crush it with my left hand. I do so easily and look at him, puzzled. He explains that they are getting base level readings on resistance and pressure. If the arm isn’t calibrated correctly I could end up maiming someone just by shaking their hand too forcefully. Along with the gear which allows them complete control over the limb, they have enhanced it with synthetic muscle for unparalleled strength. He pokes me painfully with a pin in various spots on the arm, despite my angry reactions, and explains that I will still feel pain, though at a lesser extent. He nods to Wong and pokes me again, this time it barely registers as a prick. This way, he tells me, I will still know if the arm has been damaged but the pain will not cause me to lose focus. For the last test, he tells me to hold a metal rod that is attached to some sort of meter. Wong flicks a switch and there is a sharp electric crackle in my fist. Dr. Giles nods, satisfied. My hand can give off a significant electric charge, which can be used to incapacitate or to short out machinery. Even I have to admit, that is pretty cool.

Now that we are done with the tests, he passes me off to the jerkoff Brandt, who has just entered the room and conversed with Wong. He grabs me by the arm roughly and takes me to a large empty room. Pretend time is over sweetheart, he says with more than a little menace. Let’s see how you handle yourself in the real world. A door on the far wall opens and out come three large soldiers, looking as confused as I am. Brandt shoves me into the middle of the room and steps back to watch. This woman is a traitor, he shouts, punish her. The soldiers focus on me with a look that makes me very uncomfortable and begin to advance. They have bad thoughts in mind for little old me. Suddenly we aren’t playing around anymore. Time to see what tricks I carried over from the virtual world.

NaNoWriMo Day 20

2007-11-20T15:08:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 35,013

Molly

I can smell the Colonel’s horrid cologne through the door, I would know exactly where he was even if he didn’t constantly yell when he talked. I can hear other voices, much quieter, and I estimate that there are three other men in the room, all with their back to the door. I close my eyes and ready myself for the swift carnage that is about to go down by my hands. In my left, an Uzi nine millimeter automatic submachine gun. In my right, a long range electric tazer. I silently count to three in my head and kick the door right off of its hinges like a force of nature. The three men who are standing exactly where I thought they would be standing only have time to spin around in surprise before I cut them down messily with my ‘nine. The Colonel stumbles backwards, fumbling for his sidearm when the prongs from my tazer stick perfectly into his neck and he goes down shrieking like a big old pig. I let him fry for just a second longer than is probably necessary or safe, then congratulate myself on a job well done. The Colonel’s body goes into a nice big bag with handles and the hard part is done. Now I just have to drag his heavy ass out of here.

A team is waiting at the extraction point and I hand the Colonel over to them, grateful to be relieved of the load. The squad leader points my attention to a sexy looking motorcycle parked behind him and tells me that my mission objectives have been updated on my PDA. He motions the rest of his team and they head out silently with their new cargo. I make my way over to the sleek, black bike and mount it with a small moan of pleasure. This baby is built for speed, and I will be more than happy to oblige. I check my PDA and smile. I’ve never been scuba diving before. Jamming the accelerator down hard, I blast off on the motorcycle toward the coast. The wind feels so exhilarating at the insanely dangerous speeds I am pushing and the bike throbbing between my legs is simply divine. I can’t understand why more women don’t ride bikes.

It takes a while for me to hear the rotors of the helicopter behind me over all of the wind, but when I finally do, the damn thing is almost on top of me. I curse and brake hard, ducking as the craft overshoots me and begins maneuvering to turn around. I don’t know who these guys are, but there is a good chance that they mean to do me harm. The highway is wide and flat, with nothing but straight asphalt for as far as I can see before me. I squeal the tires and spin the bike around, heading back in the direction from which I came. Seconds later, there are shots from the helicopter and a huge chunk of road erupts just to the right of me. That’s some heavy firepower they have there. I gun it harder, barely maintaining control, forcing the helicopter to haul ass to keep up with me. In the distance, I can see the short overpass tunnel that I emerged from just minutes before, I only hope I can make it before the guys in the helicopter get off a lucky shot. I am weaving like a lunatic, and their shots keep going wild. By some miracle, I manage to make the tunnel and the helicopter shoots overhead. I have a few seconds to catch my breath and figure out how I am going to get away from this flying death machine.

The copter stays hovering over the entrance and before too long, I see a drop wire come down at the mouth of the tunnel. Perfect. As soon as the poor bastard’s feet hit the ground there is a bullet caving in his face from the rifle that was strapped to my bike. For his sake, I hope he didn’t feel anything because that was nasty. And I used to be such a nice girl. I gun the bike once more, hurling to the entrance of the tunnel. Before they even know what happened I grab the drop rope with my right hand and let it swing me high in the air as I fire into the helicopter with my left. The bike keeps going and flips over the guardrail about one hundred feet down the road The confused men inside the copter scramble for nonexistent cover as I take them down one by one. The pilot banks furiously, trying to shake me off. One well-placed bullet ends his life and the whole thing goes down in flames. I land in a heap on the brush by the side of the road thanks to the momentum I had from the swinging rope, barely escaping the flaming wreckage of the helicopter. That hurt, but it sure was a lot of fun. Dusting myself off, I limp slightly over to the bike and breathe a sigh of relief that it is still intact. I take off down the highway once more, feeling rather like a badass.

I make the dock before sundown and happily greet Drake, my favorite operative. I was hoping he would be involved in this mission. He briefs me quickly and hands me my gear before turning his back so that I can change into the wetsuit. I smirk and quickly get suited up. The water is freezing cold when we dive in, but the suit quickly adjusts and makes things quite comfortable.

The strike point is a tanker anchored nearly three miles off the coast. Luckily, we have our personal water transport modules or we would wear ourselves out swimming before we even got there. Our objective is a cell phone in the pocket of a man who is locked up tight in the heavily guarded brig that is located deep within the bowels of the massive ship. Entering the correct series of codes into this special phone will stop the impeding launch of a barrage of nuclear weapons that just happen to be pointed at major United States cities. Luckily for us, my associates managed to extract the codes from the Colonel while I made my way to the docks. I bet he had a bad day. We have to get all the way through this ship and enter the codes in just over twenty minutes. Piece of cake.

Drake fires off the rappelling hook and it catches the railing on the first try. He hooks the other end to his belt and up he goes out of the water. After securing himself and checking the immediate area, he drops the line down to me and I hook up and join him on deck. I feel like I’ve known Drake my whole life, we are an excellent compliment to each other. Quite the deadly team indeed. It breaks my heart that he isn’t real, it’s as if they scanned my brain and programmed the perfect man just for me. I get lost in schoolgirl crush mode every once in a while and forget that he is just lines of code. He is always in my dreams, which makes every morning a brand new tragedy. But here, with him, doing what we do best, I am in heaven.

There is a guy taking a smoke break by the railing on the far side if the ship and Drake sneaks up and snaps his neck quickly and cleanly. We both memorized a complete schematic of the tanker before the mission, I could get to the brig with my eyes closed. We make our way level by level, sneaking around those we can successfully avoid without going too far out of our way, and silently killing those who would take too long to evade. We are making good time but it is really getting down to the wire. Soon, only one heavy door separates us from the hallway to the brig that I just know is packed to the gills with men who are armed to the teeth and have very nervous, itchy trigger fingers. Drake and I lock and load before he plants the small explosive that should blow a nice big hole right through the steel door. He duck around the corner at a safe distance and Drake gives me a wink that makes me melt inside before blowing the charge. The men inside start shouting and firing immediately, though I bet the blast blew out each and every one of their ear drums. We each toss a flash grenade into the hall and two big white booms later the shooting stops. Drake and I storm the hall, putting bullets into every staggering man until we are the only ones left standing.

I open the first cell door and a small, quiet old man smiles up at us from his cot. Drake nods to him and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the phone. Damn we’re good, we still have a whole minute to spare. Drake touches his earpiece to receive the codes from the uplink when a single shot blows the top of his beautiful head apart and he falls to the floor, stunned at being killed. The little old man turns the pistol that he had hidden in his robe on me and puts three slugs into my chest before I can react. As I struggle to take my last breaths, the timer on my wrist goes off with urgent beeps, and I know we screwed up big time.

The transition back to real life is painfully jarring, and I collapse from the rig sobbing deeply. Even though he wasn’t real, I was not prepared to see Drake killed like that and it hurt me more than I ever thought I could be hurt again. Dr. Wong rushes over while I try to contain myself and he tries to comfort me. Brandt, on the other hand, is less kind and stalks away from his monitor with a frustrated sigh. He asks me how many times he has to tell me not to let my guard down at any time. I feebly reply that the man in the brig was supposed to be one of ours but he cuts me off and reiterates that at no time should I trust anyone, ever, not even my own squad mates. I nod weakly, hoping that he will just stop yelling at me until I can get myself under control. The tears won’t stop and he certainly isn’t helping things.

Dr. Wong sits me down and hands me a cup of water while Brandt walks over to check the simulation readouts. Just as I get the sobs down to sniffles the door to the lab opens and who should walk in looking like a deer in headlights but Joseph. He lights up when he sees me and he comes running over and actually hugs me with glee. I hug him back, flustered but kind of in need of a hug. When he pulls back he sees that I’m crying, sees my missing arm, and flies into a rage. I barely manage to hold him back as he yells and lunges toward poor Dr. Wong, who goes white as a sheet. Eventually I am able to calm him down and assure him that I am ok. He is utterly bewildered and Brandt steps over and offers to explain. I tell Joseph that it is good to see him but I need some time to collect myself. He nods like a lost little boy and allows Brandt to pull him away.

I gather my things and head to my room, still aching inside. I am flummoxed that Drake’s death in the simulation has affected me so. Apparently, my infatuation with him was way out in dangerously unhealthy territory. I must be sorely in need of human contact. I have lost track of how long I have been here, the simulations make it seem like I have been training for years but I know that can’t be right. The only male in the complex that I’ve ever been even remotely interested in was Dr. Giles. Unfortunately, he made it explicitly clear that he wasn’t interested in women when I none too subtly tried to get a little closer to him. The good ones are always gay.

I sincerely hope that a long, hot shower will make me feel better and I strip off my workout clothes and step under the stream. The image of Drake’s head exploding is seared into my eyes, I can see it clearly even when they are closed. Dr. Wong has never before reused dead teammates from previous simulations, but maybe I can convince him to make an exception with Drake. Maybe if I promise to Brandt that I’ll be extra careful from now on, he’ll let me have him back. I suddenly realize that I am thinking about begging them to reinstate my digital boyfriend and I sob once again with a shudder. I am really cracking up, I can’t stay here much longer.

Finally, after lots and lots of scrubbing, I feel centered enough to get through the rest of the day. Brandt sent me a message while I was in the shower that he and Joseph would meet me in the mess hall for lunch, so I get dressed and make my way there. I join them at the table and Joseph looks exactly as confused as he was when I left them forty-five minutes ago. Brandt is patiently trying to explain about the handpicked current government as if he’s been over it quite a few times already, and his patience seems to be wearing a little thin. Amazing how Joseph has that talent. He seems distracted, which is probably not helping his comprehension skills, and as soon as Brandt stops talking Joseph turns to me and tells me that Candy is in trouble and needs our help. It takes me a few moments to remember who candy even is, and I ask him what he is talking about. He launches into this grand tale of danger and intrigue, how he and candy narrowly escaped death but she ended up being sold to slave traders by General Xu. Brandt sighs and says we have too much important work to do to be wasting time worrying about a street rat criminal and for a second there I really believe that Joseph is going to knock his block off. Something has changed about him, he seems more assertive and I’m pretty sure he’s sober. Brandt backs off and says with a nervous chuckle that he will have his people ask around for any word about Candy. Joseph seems momentarily satisfied and the situation smoothes over.

We finish eating and Joseph accompanies us to my visit with Dr. Giles. He does his usual examination and tests, then takes me back into a part of his office that has a closing door. We have never come back here before and he sits me down with a look of concern. He says he saw me fall to pieces after today’s simulation and that he is concerned about my mental toughness. I try to give him some crap about being traumatized from getting killed like that but he waves me off and rolls his eyes. He reminds me that I’ve died dozens of times in simulation, in fact I was laughing my ass off when I came out of the one where I fell off a thirty story building and pancaked in the middle of the street. He sternly tells me that he knows about my past troubles with relationships, and he’s worried that in the real world I won’t be able to detach my feelings from the task at hand. I must be scarlet red because I am so hurt, angry, and embarrassed, I can’t speak for fear that I will burst into tears again. He keeps pushing me, telling me that they created Drake to be a combination of traits that my psychological profile determined I would find appealing. His entire existence was a test of my ability to maintain a professional relationship with my teammates, and unfortunately, I failed badly. I want to crawl into a hole and die, they set me up to fall in love with someone who wasn’t real and as soon as they did they destroyed him right in front of my face. I can never think of Dr. Giles as the kind, soulful man I once did. Now he is no more than a monster to me, and it would seem that I am noting more than a guinea pig to him. He finished his lecture and I coldly asked if I was excused. He nodded, seeming angry, and I left calmly.

When I come out Joseph and Brandt have left so I veg out in front of some stupid old movie in the media room, killing time until my afternoon session rolls around. I was fine with being abducted. I was ok with losing my arm for the good of the company, as long as they promised to fix it. I was even fine with one day possibly being thrust into a situation where it was kill or be killed. What I will not tolerate is having my emotions experimented upon. I decided right then and there that if they wanted a sociopathic super-killer, then I would be all that and more. I will show them the meaning of emotional detachment. I will be a stone-cold killing machine, and no foolin’.

NaNoWriMo Day 19

2007-11-19T15:16:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 32,051

Candy

I am sleeping fitfully when the door to the cell opens with a creak. Xu nods in my direction and two of his guards come into the cell and drag me out by the arms. I, of course, don’t make it easy and kick and scream as best I can. Poor Joseph tries to stop them but gets a rifle butt in the stomach for his trouble. They slam the door on Joseph and drag me down the hall. The room they bring me to is bright, which is a huge contrast to the dank of the rest of the underground bunker. I guess they use all the juice for the lights in this room. Xu personally cuffs my hands behind my back and puts me against the wall, telling me that his guests arrived unexpectedly early. Seconds later a grotesquely fat Arab man comes in and leers at me in a way that makes me sick to my stomach. Behind him is another Arab man, this one hard and mean looking. I am almost blind with panic but I try not to let them know how scared I am. Xu tells the Arab men to feel free to inspect the package, which unfortunately they immediately move to do just that. The fat one leans in uncomfortably close and smells my hair with a huge snort, eliciting a gag from my throat.

The hard one pulls a large knife from his belt and I let a little peep of fear escape from my lips. He holds the point of the knife under my chin and stares in my eyes, which must be as wide as hubcaps. Apparently satisfied, he then lowers the knife and cuts right through my shirt, all the way down from neck to bottom. The ripped shirt falls from my shoulders and catches on my shackled arms. Next, he brings the knife to my sports bra and splits it open as well. I’ve never been very shy about my body, hell I used to strip for extra cash, but standing here with these men and Xu looking greedily at my breasts makes me feel more exposed than I ever have in my life. The fat man then approaches me and starts fumbling with my belt, and I am all out whimpering at this point. Xu’s eyes show complete joy, as if this is the perfect victory he has craved all this time. The fat man gets my pants open and pulls both them and my panties down to my feet. I can’t help it but to start bawling like a baby as I stand there naked before these strange men.

The fat man is groping me, roughly squeezing pretty much every sensitive area on my body, and I try to go completely numb. The hard man has a quiet conversation with Xu, then hands him a wad of bills. He whistles at the fat man, who looks disappointed but finally leaves me alone to retrieve something from outside of the room. He comes back in with a Muslim-style black hooded robe, and asks Xu to uncuff me so he can put it on. Xu does so cheerfully, and grabs me hard so I don’t try anything while the fat man pulls my shoes and socks off and takes the pants the rest of the way off. He then drapes the robe over my head and I am immeasurably thankful to be covered up once again.

They recuff me and the Arab men thank Xu before pushing me ahead of them into the hallway. General Xu says goodbye cheerfully, and I promise to myself that if I ever manage to get away I will gouge his eyes out with my fingernails. So this is it, I have been made into a slave and I will never see the people I love for the rest of my guaranteed to be miserable life. I choke down a sob, determined not to let these bastards see me cry ever again. They can do whatever they will to my body but I won’t let them break me. At least, I hope not.

They lead me out of the bunker and we start walking up a large hill. There is a clearing before too long and a small helicopter sits under the guard of another Arab. He smiles when he sees me, although all he can see is my eyes so I don’t know what he’s so happy about. Maybe he’s just glad I’m not a fatty. I wonder if I would have cost less then, or if they even would have wanted me at all. Dammit, if only I lead an unhealthier, less active lifestyle, I wouldn’t be in this mess. They push me into the helicopter, and the fat man sits next to me in the back row of seats. He forces me to rest my head on his lap and I am wondering if my teeth are strong enough to bite his dick off through his pants when the copter spins up and takes off for parts and horrors unknown.

The flight is short, surprisingly so, and we touch down with a bump that I think rattles my skull painfully into the fat one’s crotch. Score one for me. They pull me from the helicopter like a piece of luggage and the hard one snaps a collar and leash around my neck. Oh fuck that. Seeing the anger in my eyes, he yanks on the leash hard, and I nearly fall on my face with a startled choke. The three men all chuckle at this while I quietly seethe. One of them takes the handcuffs off and the hard one orders me to my knees like a dog. When I don’t immediately comply, he punches me in the stomach, hard, and to my knees I go, gasping for air. He orders me to crawl and I’m not really in a position to refuse so off we go, across the concrete into a building where chaos seems to be the theme. There are shouts and whoops all around me but keep my eyes on the floor because I am so humiliated. Someone slaps my ass and I hear the fat one laughing behind me. The tears threaten to come back again but I hold them off, barely. We stop and I finally look up to see the round behind of another girl on her knees in front of me, and another in front of her, and so on for a line of at least fifteen other abducted women. At the front of the line, an elderly man in a wheelchair watches as each girl is picked up and stripped once more, nodding his approval after inspecting each one. This goes on for a few more crying girls until he shakes his head callously at one for reasons I can’t immediately fathom, and she is dragged off wailing and begging to the far corner of the room where a large man shoots her right in the head without hesitation. A loud cry goes out from the girls in front of me, I’m sure each is scared to death as I am about what might get them put down the same way. They drag her nude body out of the large room through a side door and the inspections continue as if nothing happened.

Thankfully, no one else gets the thumbs down and when it is my turn, I am relived that I meet his approval. His eyes are so cold, he looks at my body like it is a cut of beef. He never even looks at my face. Once approved, they put the robe back on me and take me through a door in the back. The fat man gets one more good grope on me before they shove me into a pen with dozens of hysterical women. The line is seemingly in a constant state of renewal, girls keep coming in. Over the course of maybe half an hour we hear one more gunshot, which makes everyone jump and start wailing even louder. I huddle in a corner by myself, trying to block out all of the emotions and sense of hopelessness that threaten to overcome me. Finally, the show seems to end and they close up the pen. We are almost elbow-to-elbow in here, I hope this isn’t a long term thing. I can’t imagine where anyone will go to the bathroom. Everyone eventually calms down to sniffling whimpers, for which I am grateful. One can only hear women crying for so long before it threatens to make you go crazy. I close my eyes and pray to any deity who will listen that I somehow manage to get myself out of this mess.

Joseph

I feel so lost without Candy, the reality of my possible impending death comes crashing down hard and I have no one to comfort me. I’ve been pacing around the cell nervously for what seems like hours. I really wish I had some way to keep track so I would know how long I have left. I’ve been fearfully wondering just how they plan on doing the deed if payment doesn’t come through. I figure it will probably be some sort of firing squad type of deal, them being military, but that Xu seems like a sadistic son of a bitch and I shudder to think what nasty things he might come up with. I just hope it doesn’t hurt, that my death is quick and easy.

These thoughts are doing nothing to ease my muddled mind. I am trembling uncontrollably so I sit down and try to compose myself. A almost jump a full foot into the air when the door unlocks with a clang and opens slowly. A smallish Arab man pokes his head in and looks at me, looks back out into the hall, then frantically motions for me to follow him. I sit there stupidly for a second, wondering if this is a trick. He widens his eyes in exasperation and nods his head in the other direction. I decide that no matter what, following him has got to be better than sitting here waiting to die, so I jump up and go. He leads me through the bunker, with some heart-stopping close calls around patrolling guards, and we crawl out of a hatch in the wall that leads us to the outside. I can’t believe I am free just like that. He leads me to a trail and we scurry off in the dark. Man, I wish I could see Xu’s face when he opens the cell and sees that I am gone.

There is a jeep parked by itself after around two miles down the trail and my savior hops into the driver’s seat. I jump in the passenger side and he starts her up and tears off. We still haven’t exchanged a single word, and I haven’t even considered the fact that I may be running into a situation worse than the one I just escaped from. This nagging feeling gets stronger when I realize he is driving me back into town. I try to ask where we’re headed but he makes a sign for me to be quiet so I sit there getting very nervous. We weave through the streets while I consider jumping out of the jeep at the first opportunity. He pulls up to a building with a guardhouse and I figure I’m screwed once again. The guard recognizes him straight away and opens the gate. We pull up to a drab building and he jumps out, so I have no choice but to follow. Out of the frying pan, into a god damned volcano.

NaNoWriMo Day 16

2007-11-16T12:48:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 30,084

Molly

I wake to the terrifying howl of some sort of alarm, for a few confused seconds I don’t know where I am, and I am scared to death. Recognition of the room comes before too long and the alarm stops shrieking soon after that. I am still locked in so I sit on the bed with my arms around my legs and try to calm my racing heart. A few minutes pass and the door unlatches with a clank and Freidrich opens it with a smile. He apologizes for the noise, it was apparently a false alarm. I ask what made it go off but he waved the question away as unimportant. He asks if I am hungry and escorts me once again to the mess hall. The place is fuller this time, a mix of soldiers, scientists, and maintenance workers. Some of them eye me up but quickly go back to their individual conversations.

I sit down with a plate of bland scrambled eggs and bacon and Brandt goes over my itinerary for the day. They want to run some physical tests first, for what reason he won’t tell me. I ask if I can take a shower first but he says that I will probably want to hold off on that until after the tests. Ok, I shrug, then what? After that, he tells me that Dr. Giles is going to consult with me about the operation to come. I ask if that means they are finally going to tell me just what they plan on doing and he chuckles. All in good time, he says. Corporate slave or no, I am starting to get fed up with this already.

When I finish breakfast, what little I ate of it, we head to a wing that is pretty much identical to all of the other wings except for a room containing various exercise equipment with all sorts of gauges and meters. Brandt introduces me to Dr. Wong, who will be conducting the testing today. He seems like a nice enough guy, a short Chinese man with huge glasses, and he leads me to a table with all sorts of gadgets and wires. He asks me to remove my shirt and I look back at Brandt, blushing. Brandt assures me that the man is a professional and that I should not be embarrassed. Hesitantly, I pull the t-shirt over my head and look at the floor. The horrible stump that used to be my left arm hangs there obscenely, I’m more ashamed of that than of my breasts being bared. Dr. Wong attaches a number of wires to my chest and clips a small black box to the waistband of my sweatpants. He says I can put my shirt back on and I do so with great relief. He explains in accented English that this is a heart monitor that they will be using to study my endurance levels to a number of challenges. He asks me to take deep breaths while he gets a baseline reading and I do. Brandt leaves and tells me he will be back when Dr. Wong is done testing.

The first test is a moderate walk on a treadmill, which I handle with no problem. Dr. Wong slowly dials up the speed after taking various notes and I handle everything without breaking too much of a sweat. Thankfully, I have been keeping up with my gym routine lately. Who knows if they would still want me for this big special project if I started huffing and puffing at a brisk walk. I smile to myself when I imagine Joseph going through the same tests. Obviously whatever special attributes he may have aren’t athletically based. Dr. Wong seems pleased, which makes me happy for some reason. Little Miss Molly, always eager to be the good girl. Traits like that are what got me into this mess in the first place.

We move on to some more difficult tests, involving balance and dexterity. These aren’t exactly my strong suits, but Dr. Wong seems encouraged enough. I feel like I am in gym class again, balance beams, tire courses, I keep expecting Dr. Wong to bring out a kickball. Thankfully, they can’t make me try to climb a rope with only one arm.

When we finish that series of tests, Dr. Wong tells me to take a few minutes and hands me some water. It has been a while since I worked out and I am a little worn out. The next tests will be mental he tells me, and I cringe. I.Q. tests were never my favorite. I know that I’m not stupid, but for some reason logic puzzles and brain teasers continue to bewilder me. Even Sodoku puzzles give me a headache. He leads me to a chair and starts to show me ink blot cards and asks me to describe what I see. I smile inside, these are much more fun than math problems. We do an awful lot of the cards, Dr. Wong never seems to react to my answers one way or the other. After a while the cards start to become increasingly bizarre, almost frightening images. I am worried that if I say “that looks like a demon’s head feasting on the innards of a screaming little girl in a sea of fire” they will think I’m completely insane, but I’ll be damned if that isn’t exactly what it looks like. After an obvious pause, I go ahead and spit it out, although I describe it somewhat less graphically. Dr. Wong simply nods at each of my answers, and then jots something down on his clipboard.

Mercifully, we finish up with the cards and Dr. Wong tells me that I can rest for a few minutes before the next tests. I ask if I can go to the bathroom and he points it out across the room with a nod. I am worn out, physically and mentally, and I hope there isn’t much left to this session. When I come back out, Dr. Wong has an interesting harness that he has wheeled up attached to a big metal rig. I approach it with wonder and he tells me that this will be the last test for the day. He explains that the rig is a virtual reality unit that will test me on various real-world simulations to see how I respond. This makes me nervous, I am already tired and I am a little afraid of technology in general. He helps me climb in and get situated and fastens the visor on carefully. The view screen goes from black to almost blinding blue when he powers the unit up and I close my eyes against the unexpected glaring brightness. Dr. Wong apologizes and lowers the bright levels. I ask how he knew my eyes were closed and he explains that there are cameras inside the visor that monitor my eye and pupil movement. The helmet also detects my brainwaves, so there is no actual need for physical movement. If I think I want to go somewhere or do something, my avatar will act accordingly based on my mental commands.

The first simulation, he explains, may be a little frightening. He assures me that I can end the test at any time by pressing the panic button, which he guides my hand toward so that I know where it is located. His warning certainly doesn’t help my nervousness, but before I can protest the screen starts to change and we are ready to begin. The quality is so good that I am breathless for a moment, if I didn’t know any better I would think I was standing in a large field of tall grass on a cloudy dark night. I look down ay my feet and see that my virtual self is glad in all black, somewhat tight all black I must admit. I notice with a start that I have a left arm in the virtual model, though I can’t control it no matter what I do. I take a few minutes at Dr. Wong’s urging to get acclimated to moving around and not becoming disoriented before he runs the actual simulation. When I tell him that I am ready the video on the display pauses for a fraction of a second, then resumes.

I hear voices in the distance and I turn to see figures coming my way. They have flashlights and there are dogs barking along with the shouting. The group is moving toward me quickly and I am starting to get a little antsy just standing here. Their shouts are angry and vicious, I sincerely hope they aren’t coming after me. When they fire the first shot in my direction, my fight or flight response takes over and I run like hell in the opposite direction, completely forgetting for a moment that I am in no real danger. There is a barn not too far ahead of me and I head toward it as fast as I can run. I can hear bullets whizzing by my head, I keep ducking to avoid them instinctually. It is strange, even though I am exerting no physical strain in the real world, I am gasping for air as I run as hard as I can in the virtual space. I reach the barn amidst a hail of bullets and duck inside, my pursuers not far behind. I am completely frozen, I have no idea what to do. I ran to the barn without even thinking because it was the only structure I could see and it seemed safer than being out in the open. But hiding won’t get me very far considering the fact that they know I went in the barn. I huddle in the corner of the dark interior and wait helplessly for them to come get me. Much to my surprise, my left arm raises a gun that I didn’t notice and points it at the door I came in through. When the pursuers get closer my arm shoots three times right through the door without any guidance from me. There is an awful scream and the door becomes Swiss cheese from return fire. I scramble out of the line of fire and my arm takes a few more shots, eliciting another scream. There is a small gap in the far wall of the barn that I realize I can squeeze through without them knowing I slipped out. My arm shoots a few more times to hold them back and I crawl through the gap and start running hard in the cool night air once more.

After a good distance, I allow myself to risk a look back and I don’t see anyone behind me. I hear what sounds like a helicopter and before I know it, there is a big one descending through the low cloud line and landing roughly a hundred yards in front of me. I lay down on my belly, hoping that the tall grass conceals me. A ramp opens up on the rear of the copter and a figure walks out with a signal lantern. He keeps clicking it, I’m torn on if he’s trying to signal me or if he’s trying to signal the guys that were chasing me. I’ve done pretty well so far on instinct so I carefully stand up to see what he does. Thankfully, instead of shooting at me he waves me over with broad sweeps of his arm and I run through the fierce wind of the propellers to the ramp. To my surprise, the man with the lamp is Dr. Wong, and he congratulates me on a job well done. Just like that, the simulation is over and the screen clicks off. Dr. Wong lifts the visor from my head and I let out an impressed gasp. I am covered in sweat like I ran a marathon and the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins. I tell Dr. Wong that I’ve never seen anything that lifelike and he nods with a chuckle. That, he says, was only the first simulation. A way for them to get an idea of how I could think on my feet in a basic dangerous situation. I cock an upraised eyebrow at him. Basic? Attack dogs and guns? Are you kidding? He chuckles again and says that I will see soon enough. I ask why I had an arm in the simulation that I could not control but doesn’t reply as he is loading the next simulation into the drive slot on the rig. He asks if I want to rest first but I shake my head and tell him to let it rip. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

After a few more simulations, I am completely spent but in a very, very good way. Dr. Wong seems very pleased with my performance. I jumped out of planes, hacked into security systems, killed heads of state with high-powered rifles from enormous distances, even drove a tank. The funny thing was, every time I faced a situation where I had no idea how to do or operate something, my virtual left arm automatically took over and did it for me. It was like my arm was a super-soldier and I was just a way for it to get around. I got to do all of the neat spy stuff that teenage boys dream about, all without leaving the room.

Brandt returns while I am drinking water as if I am dying of thirst. He tells me that he heard I did spectacularly today, and he is very proud of me. I blush and thank him. He says that I must be hungry after all that and indeed I am. I tell him that I would like to take a shower first, though, and he says of course. He walks me to my room after I say goodbye to Dr. Wong and asks if I remember the way to the mess hall. I think for a second, I believe so but everything looks the same here so I am not positive. He laughs and says that all I have to do is follow the signs, which I hadn’t noticed posted on the wall in every hallway. He tells me that he will be waiting for me in the mess hall when I am done with my shower and walks off. It doesn’t dawn on me until a few seconds later that this is the first time he has left me unaccompanied. I can’t imagine that they would be too worried about me somehow escaping. There are soldiers and guards everywhere, and I bet the place is lousy with cameras. Besides, I’m too tired to do anything crazy. I enter the room and turn the shower to the hottest I can get it. After peeling off my sweaty clothes, I step into the scalding stream with a happy sigh. A small part of me is giddy that I will be spending the afternoon with Dr. Giles. There was something about him that gives me butterflies, but in a good way. I am very much looking forward to our meeting.

NaNoWriMo Day 15

2007-11-15T13:05:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 27,542

Candy

I only sleep for a few hours because I don’t want to leave Joseph alone for too long for fear of what he might screw up. I must admit, though, that he is adapting to this much better than I anticipated. It’s almost as he realized that all of his complaining was getting him nowhere and he decided to roll with whatever comes along as best he can from now on. I step out of the tent and stretch with a big yawn. Joseph seems lost in thought, gazing up at the stars which glow extra bright in the mountain air. I ask if he would like some coffee and he starts as if he didn’t notice me. He would like some coffee so I fish out the can I bought at the outpost and start heating some water over the fire. We sit together by the warm fire with our steaming cups and he asks if I think Molly is ok. I bite my lip, I don’t know whether to tell him what is most likely the case or to sugar coat things. I think he gets the picture based on my delay and sighs. He feels like he should go back and find her before he leaves. He gets points for the thoughtfulness but I tell him as nicely as I can that it would be foolish and more than likely futile. He stares at the ground and says he feels like it is his fault for letting something happen to her because he was laid up when it she disappeared. I try to comfort him but it is no use. We sip in silence for a while until the coffee is gone.

There hasn’t been any word from Thom yet, so I decide to teach Joseph some outdoorsy-type skills to take his mind off Molly. We actually have fun, he learns how to build a fire, construct a shelter, trap animals, spot edible plants, and lots of other useful things. Not bad for a day’s work. By the time dusk rolls around again, we are both plenty tuckered out. I fix us some dinner, Joseph actually makes the beans, and we are both ready for some sleep. We should be ok, no one ever comes around out here and I practically sleep with one eye open. If anyone headed this way I would here them before they got within five hundred yards. I ask Joseph if he’s ready to turn in and he sheepishly asks if it’s ok that he sleeps in the tent too. I laugh and tell him it was built for two people, it just may be a tad cozy. He blushes and we crawl into the tent and under the blankets. Joseph is out like a light, snoring of course. I do my best to block it out and before long, I am in slumber land as well.

My super senses aren’t required because a loud burst of gunfire wakes us both with a start in the early morning hours. I tell Joseph to stay put with a whisper and cautiously crawl out of the tent. I can hear voices over the ridge, they sound like soldiers. Shit, they probably sent out patrols all through the mountains to find us. I should have gotten us farther away. We seem to be still undiscovered, I’m not sure what they were shooting at. It does sound like they are getting closer though, they should be able to see the smoke from the smoldering fire at any minute. I scramble back to the tent and motion to Joseph that we need to bail immediately. He nods and follows me out. We grab what we can and slip over the far edge of the rock wall, then keep moving in the opposite direction of the soldiers. After a while, we stop to rest and I try to get my bearings. We lost a good deal of gear because of the hasty escape, despite all of the skills I taught Joseph it will be awfully rough to stay out here for too long without the basics. And now that they’ve most likely found our campsite, I’m sure patrols will intensify greatly throughout the area. Joseph asks if we can go to the outpost for some help but I shake my head. The understanding with the outpost is that they keep their mouth shut about who has been through there as long as no trouble comes their way. The second you come rolling in with heat on your tail they will turn you away and point the bad guys in your direction if asked.

Dammit, Joseph is counting on me and I am drawing a complete blank here. If it were just me I had to worry about, I could probably go underground and disappear for a good long while. Having him with me complicates things greatly. There are people I have known and worked with for years that would still turn me away simply because I was with a stranger. So lost in my thoughts I am that I don’t even realize I’ve been shot until a few seconds after I hit the ground. The crack of the rifle comes seemingly impossibly late and my shoulder is on fire. Joseph freaks out but I tell him to get down and that that I’m ok. The truth is I’m fighting back shock, I’ve never been shot before. Which, come to think of it, is kind of surprising with the circles I run in. I scramble to the tree that Joseph is crouched behind and try to control my breathing. Joseph looks at the wound in horror but it really isn’t that bad. The blood isn’t gushing out, which is a blessing. There are heavy footsteps and shouts coming toward us but we have nowhere to run. I hold the wound and curse, desperately trying to think of a way out. Just before they pounce on us I realize that the shouts are in Chinese, not Arabic, and who should suddenly be standing there with a gun in my face but old General Xu himself. He smiles that smile of his and says if he knew it was me he would have told his man to aim for the head. Same old cuddly Xu.

Joseph

Somehow, the evil bastard General Xu has tracked us down and I can’t do anything but stare at him stupidly. One of the soldiers is carrying a rabbit carcass, I guess that’s what they were shooting at earlier. Xu has his men tend to Candy’s wound, only fair I guess seeing as how they were the ones who shot her in the first place. He banters with her in Chinese, I think, sounding pompous and condescending. Candy gives it right back to him though, and it seems like they’ve had exchanges like this many times before. He steps away to speak to one of his men, but we are still at gunpoint from the rest. I ask Candy what he said and she tells me that they weren’t even looking for us, they were on the run too. It looks like these are the last of his army left alive after the coup. I ask if he said what he plans on doing with us and she shakes her head nervously. Xu comes back and motions me to get to my feet. I am half a foot taller then him but he still seems to tower over me. He asks if my company would pay a lot of money to keep me from harm. I am slow to answer, mostly because I had never really thought of it before. I think they would, wouldn’t they? I realize that if I didn’t sound confident that they would Xu would have no use for me and probably shoot me right here so I enthusiastically tell him that they would pay top dollar. He grins like he knows that I am lying, but nods his head and barks an order at one of his men. The soldier reaches into a knapsack and pulls out a satellite phone. My eyes light up, who would have thought that General Xu, of all people, was going to be my savior? He hands me the phone and tells me to call. I dial the number with a slightly quivering finger; it’s time to find out how valuable I really am.

Of course, the fact that it is the middle of the night in the States completely escapes me until I get the answering service and I mentally kick myself. The only personal cell number I know by heart is Jenkins’, and he was the last person I wanted to call in this world. I sigh through gritted teeth and dial his number. Amazingly, he answers it after only a couple of rings, but the connection is terrible. After a lot of confused shouting and near disconnects I manage to explain who it is and where I am calling from. I tell him that I am being held hostage for money. He seems tickled by this, but it may just be the interference. He asks where Molly is and I tell him I don’t know. He says the old man isn’t going to like this and I resist the urge to let him have it. He says he will make some calls and get back to me, but I don’t know the number. General Xu takes the phone and tells Jenkins that they have twenty-four hours to arrange payment of thirty million American dollars or they will kill me, then he gives him the number. Just like that, I have one day to live if the company that I have devoted fifteen years to decides that my life is not thirty million dollars. I have to say, I am not very optimistic.

Xu and his men round up Candy and myself and march us toward destinations unknown. Candy has become unusually withdrawn, but I don’t know if it’s because of her wound or because of her and Xu’s interaction before my head was placed on the bargaining block. I ask if she is ok and she nods and smiles at me weakly, not exactly convincing me. I ask what Xu said to her before and her lips get tight and she clams up. I can see that she is greatly upset about something so I let it go for now.

After hours of marching, we come to a clearing that is of no visible importance. Several of Xu’s men step forward and clear a brush-covered tarp from the ground and suddenly, there’s an entrance to an underground bunker right there before our eyes. Candy looks just as surprised as I am, so I guess this was a pretty well kept secret. General Xu notices this and laughs. He says he had this built in case the inevitable coup happened so that he and his most trusted men would have someplace to hide and regroup. With the twenty or so soldiers he has now, I’m not really sure what they are capable of regrouping for, but I decide not to point this out and cause trouble. They open the entrance hatch and usher us inside the dark, damp structure.

Candy and I are given our own little tiny cell, which basically amounts to little more than a closet that is just barely enough to lie down in. And here I thought we might see a kinder, gentler Xu. Aside from the ransoming off my life for lots of money thing, of course. Candy still seems shook up, she is sitting in the corner with her arms wrapped around her legs, eyes focused on nothing. I sit down next to her, hold her hand, and ask what that jerk could possible have said to upset her like this. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she takes a moment to compose herself before she replies. She says that Xu is going to sell her to the slave traders after they are done with me. I scoff and ask since when was she ever scared by a threat from Xu, but this one is different. The thought of being sold as a slave has really shaken her to the core. I try to comfort her, to assure her that we will find a way out of here before any of that, but she is impossible to convince. Finally, I just pull her head to my shoulder and we sit quietly, grimly awaiting our fates.

Fate doesn’t come just yet, but dinner does, in the form of some unidentifiable mush that a guard sets on the floor by the door. I suppress a gag but Candy actually goes at it with gusto. When she catches my horrified look she explains that we need all of our strength if we have any chance of getting out of here and we have to take all of the nourishment we can get. I smile, not because I’m happy that we have to eat this crap but because it would appear that Candy is back to her old self. It is quite a relief, I hadn’t the foggiest idea how we were going to escape but I’m sure the gears in Candy’s sneaky little head are already turning.

A little while later, the lights go out unexpectedly and we are left in pitch-blackness. Apparently, it’s bed time. It has gotten uncomfortably chilly in here and Candy snuggles in close for warmth. The smell of her hair and the feel of her body against mine make all of this seem not so bad. If this is going to be my last night on Earth, at least I am spending it in the arms of a pretty girl. In fact, seeing as it might be my last night on Earth, I wonder what else she would – and she moves my hand away from her chest with an iron grip so I guess I have to settle for cuddling. I guess beggars can’t be choosers. My thoughts are too chaotic to sleep, as one might expect when one might not have long to live. That son of a bitch Jenkins better get everyone in on this and help me out of here. I can see him now, hanging up the phone with a chuckle and going back to sleep, taking pleasure in the fact that I screwed up so bad that it cost me my life, not to mention the promotion. If I die because he didn’t tell anyone about the ransom demand, I am going to haunt his tacky penthouse condo for the rest of his days. It will be hard for him to slip seventeen-year-old girls hits of ecstasy and convince them to do anal with a shrieking poltergeist banging things around and generally spoiling the mood. I pray that the wheels are in motion because I am scared to die in this god-forsaken hellhole of a place.

NaNoWriMo Day 14

2007-11-14T14:02:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 25,034 (Halfway done!!!)

Molly

This isn’t right, this isn’t right at all. I don’t know where I am and I can’t move. All I can see is a bright light above me, like in a hospital. It smells like a hospital too, and I am getting even more concerned. I try to remember if something happened to me, but it is all a haze. I was at the club, enjoying myself, drinking with the handsome Turk, and everything is blank from there. Panic is starting to set in because I am still completely paralyzed when I hear what sounds like a door open and someone come in the room. I struggle to see who it is but not a single muscle will budge. All I can do is blink. The stranger is a man, I can tell by his humming. There is the sound of a drawer opening and suddenly his looming head fills my vision. I can’t make out his face because he is shining a pen light into my eyes and peering into my pupils. After a few seconds, he switches off the light, leans back, and almost immediately, I recognize that the man is none other than Freidrich Brandt. He must know I can see him because he smiles. He tells me that the paralysis is only temporary until the anesthesia wears off completely. Anesthesia?!?

Brandt reaches over and adjusts something behind my head so that it is propped up and I am able to see the entire room. It looks like a cross between a recovery room and a laboratory. My eyes scan the room and come back over my body and that is when I notice my left arm is missing. As in it is simply not there. The right arm looks just fine, it is resting comfortably at my side. But on the left side there is nothing but the dangling short sleeve of the gown I’m wearing. To say I am shocked would be an understatement, but if I don’t continue to look at this in a calm way I will completely lose it and probably have an aneurysm.

Again, Brandt seems to sense my mindset and he tells me not to worry about the arm, he will fix it very shortly. I’m not sure quite what he means by “fix it” but I do feel some sense of relief. Until, that is, until I remember that nowhere in Brandt’s file does it mention that he is a surgeon or that he has any medical training whatsoever. The man is an engineer, and he is apparently going to perform a major operation on me. He very well may have already performed an operation, since I still have yet to find out what happened to my arm in the first place. I feel the muscles in my face twitch slightly, which I hope means that I am on the way to full movement so I can get to the bottom of all this.

Brandt pushes a buzzer and a dark-skinned, bearded soldier who is dressed in a uniform I don’t recognize comes in. Brandt gives him instructions in Arabic but he says them softly and I can’t really make out anything. The soldier nods and leaves us alone once more. I realize that I am able to turn my head because I watch him go, then I turn back to Brandt, who smiles again. He tells me that there are matters that he needs to attend to, but he should be back in time to help me when I have regained full movement. He leaves the room and once again, it is just me and my thoughts. At least I have time to try to figure out a few things. I knew Brandt was here doing research but that was all that they told us. I figured that the shaky laws here were the reason that he decided to set up shop in this country, so I knew whatever work he was doing probably wasn’t on the up and up. You accept certain things when you pledge your loyalty oath to Nanodyne Defense Systems, one of which is the fact that you probably don’t want to know about every little thing that the company does. I made peace with this fact a long time ago, but now that I’m in the thick of one of those very situations I am beginning to regret my prior ambivalence.

I can tell that there is at least a stump under the sleeve of the gown, so my arm isn’t completely gone. I have to close my eyes and breathe slowly for a few seconds to compose myself after I picture what the stump must look like. Was there an accident? Was I attacked? As soon as I get my mouth muscles going, I plan on finding out first thing. I can wiggle my fingers and toes, but my arms and legs are strapped down tightly so I’m not sure about those just yet. Come to think of it, I find it rather odd that I am strapped down. If Brandt knew I would be paralyzed, why go to the bother of making sure I can’t get away? Another question for the good doctor who isn’t actually a doctor.

Twenty more minutes go by and I feel like I must be fully operational right now and Brandt comes back flanked by two armed soldiers. I launch right into telling him who I am and why I am here, but before I can ask what happened to my arm he shushes me and waves his hand. He tells me that he knows all about me. My company profile suggested that I am bright, capable, and able to handle pressure. My psychological evaluation showed an unusual degree of loyalty to the company, which is why he chose me to participate in this project. Brandt explains that he has been working on exciting top-secret designs, and I am going to be his all important test subject. My head is spinning with all of this and I am speechless as Brandt loosens the straps that are holding me down. I am able to stand shakily with his help and he leads me to a full-length mirror. He tells me that soon I won’t miss my old arm, he is going to replace it with something much, much better. After years of trial and error, he has finally perfected a prototype, and I am going to be his prize show model. When I find my voice it is small and weak, but I manage to ask just what I will be a model of. The perfect soldier, he smiles almost maniacally, the deadliest human being on the planet. It is finally all too much for me to take and I pass out mercifully, hoping desperately that I will wake up in the real world once more.

No such luck, when I come to I am back in the hospitable bed and curiously strapped down once more. At least this time I can move, and I take advantage of this by screaming my lungs out. A soldier comes in with his rifle pointed, looking like I just scared the bejeezus out of him. When he finds that there is nothing to shoot in here, he seems lost until Brandt comes in behind him looking concerned. The soldier snaps to attention, which appears to make him much more comfortable. Brandt asks if I am in any pain and I let him have it, calling him every name in the book and demanding that he tell me what happened to my arm and just what exactly he plans on doing to me. He sighs and begins to loosen the straps one more. He says that he had hoped I would be more enthusiastic about the whole thing, but he understands that I am a little upset because he did not tell me about my role in this project before he removed my arm. He asks for just a little more patience, he will soon explain everything and I will be very pleased indeed. I stay silent until he finishes with the straps and then I punch him in the jaw as hard as I can. The soldier raises his weapon hesitantly but Brandt waves him off while rubbing his jaw. Unfortunately, I didn’t have very much leverage so I didn’t do much of anything except get my point across. Brandt glares at me angrily for a moment then softens. Fight it as I may, he tells me, my participation in this project is not voluntary. The loyalty oath that I swore when I joined Nanodyne expressly stated that I would carry out the will of my superiors. And the employee handbook, a copy of which is available at all times no matter the location, states under no uncertain terms that my body is the sole property of Nanodyne and any part of it will be available at a moment’s notice should a need for it arise. I swallow heavily, feeling nauseous. You never think all of that stuff in the oath and in the handbook would actually mean something someday, it just seemed like standard evil corporation stuff. Well, I guess I can’t imagine things being more evil than this. Brandt reminds me that he is in fact my superior and that I am expected to obey him from this point on. I lower my head and nod, eyes on the floor to keep from crying. Nanodyne owns me, body and soul.

Brandt gives me some clothes and leaves me to change in private. When I am done he guides me out of the room into a sterile white hallway, several more of which we walk down before entering a mess area. There are a few soldiers eating together at one of the tables but otherwise the large room is empty. Brandt tells me that the next surgery isn’t for a few days so can go ahead and eat as much as I want. I quickly realize that I am actually very hungry so I load up a tray with some decent looking beef stew and he sits with me and tells me about the facility. They built the research complex underground, expanding it as needed. The space is not considered the property of any country, it is understood that Nanodyne’s interest transcends any border. The local governments are sometimes directly involved with the facility’s day-to-day functions, other times it operates autonomously. Either way, any workers in the complex stay under the sole authority of Nanodyne.

Normally, they enjoy full cooperation from whoever happens to be in charge on the surface. The previous regime, however, was never told about this facility due to a foreseen abundance of hubris. When they began to get too close, the decision was made to end their rule and replace them with a group that was easier to work with. This, he explained, is why they had to play out the charade that he had gone missing and that Joseph and I were here to find him. They were unable to prepare the new government before our arrival, and the project could not go off schedule. Speaking of, I ask, why did they choose Joseph? Brandt chuckles, hearing my tone, and cryptically says that there are also things about Joseph that will prove useful in this project.

I finish my stew, it is really hard to get used to not having two arms when eating by the way, and he shows me to a modest media room. He says that he must leave again, just for a little bit, but I am free to occupy myself with the books, movies, or games available. He asks that I not stray from the room because there are areas of the complex that are restricted, and could be dangerous. I assure him that I will stay put and head to the bookcase to see what I can find. Not surprisingly, engineers and scientists and whoever else works here don’t have the most dynamic taste in literature. I pick a well-worn paperback of an old Stephen King novel and settle into one of the room’s many couches. Every instinct is screaming for me to run, to get the hell out of there as fast as I can, but I am bound by duty to stay and serve the needs of Nanodyne. Besides, if I try to run who knows what else they will do to me. I concentrate on the story as hard as I can to keep the panic from overwhelming me. Other workers come and go as I lounge, but no one really pays any attention to me. One man, a lanky guy with glasses, smiles at me nervously before he scuttles over and occupies himself with a movie station. It’s almost as if one-armed girls show up from out of nowhere all the time around here.

Brandt comes back before I finish the book but I wasn’t really into it anyway. He tells me that it is time to meet an associate of his, another head of the project. We enter another lab and there is a tall black man in a lab coat writing on a clipboard, leaning casually against a counter. He smiles broadly when he sees me and introduces himself as Dr. Giles. He slight English accent is a contrast to Brandt’s slight German accent. He seems kind, and I feel like I can trust him but I don’t know why. He says he understands that this is probably all very overwhelming and that I must be scared. Nevertheless, he assures me that they are going to help me, make me better in fact, than I ever was before. Staring into his dark eyes as he holds my hand, I can’t help but believe him. Brandt says it is almost time for lights out in the facility, and takes me to my private quarters. On the way, he explains that some areas do function twenty-four hours a day, but non-essential areas are powered down to keep energy usage minimal. The room he shows me to is small, but it has all of the standard requirements. After bidding me goodnight, Brandt leaves and I am not surprised to hear the door lock behind him. My head is still spinning a little from all of the day’s events so it takes me a while to get to sleep. Whatever they have planned for me it is out of my control, hopefully things will be as rosy as they claim when all is said and done.

NaNoWriMo Day 13

2007-11-13T12:45:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 22,593

I wake up a short time later and immediately panic because Joseph is gone. I jump to my feet and ask Sakti, our gracious hostess, if she knows where he is. She smiles at me and nods, but that’s all she is able to offer. Poor thing, there’s not much left up there. Before I can run out in full emergency mode, Joseph comes back inside casually. I ask where the hell he went in an angry hiss and he tells me to calm down, he just went to use the bathroom outside. Calm down indeed, we’ll see how calm he is if I just up and disappear on him like that. I tell him to be more careful and to get ready to leave. It is dark out now so I think it will be safer to see what’s up with my people.

We sneak out, keeping behind the various shacks and shanties and out of sight as much as possible. Pratima lives on the outskirts, in one of the better places. Her father sends money each month from the States, but it is not enough to afford much. Her mom died when she was little, so it’s up to her to raise her hellion brothers. She’s doing a hell of a job, I must admit, I would have sold them for beans ages ago.

Her house is dark, but it is pretty late. I cautiously approach the door and give the secret knock that we came up with ages ago. The door opens almost immediately and there is Pratima looking scared but relieved. She tells me what Yao told me, that the new soldiers have been raiding the slums and dragging people off seemingly at random. No one knows the reason behind the arrests. I tell her everything is going to be ok, not because I think that it will but because she is the kind of sap who believes stuff like that when she hears it. I tell her to lay low for a while and if she needs anything try to get in touch with me through the normal channels, if they still exist. I give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and we are back out into the night.

I really need to know if my supply lines are still open, so I decide to contact Thom. Thom is a British expat who lives in a remote cabin just over the border. He helps me get stuff in by truck, car, bike, donkey, whatever it takes. The man is talented and his services are reasonable, though I suspect I get a discount because he likes me. And that is just fine by me. He has been an absolute godsend, hopefully the regime change hasn’t spooked him away from doing business with me.

To contact Thom I need to get back to the shortwave radio in my apartment, and that is the part of the plan that isn’t sitting too well with me. Getting to my place from Pratima’s is a bit of a hike on foot, and of course, Joseph complains every chance he gets. My whole building is just as quiet as everything else tonight, the streets are mighty spooky. I guess everyone is hiding inside and watching their asses. I’m not really worried that they would have tracked me down from the fight in the Ministry, but if they have picked up someone that I regularly deal with, things could get a bit dangerous. I decide that if I am going to visit my apartment it will be the only time until things cool down, so I plan on grabbing everything I might need. We take the stairs amid much huffing and puffing and more complaining from Joseph. The halls are quiet as a tomb so I creep to my door and slip the key into the lock without a sound. I let the door swing open and I stay crouched there for a second, scanning for anything out of place. Everything looks ok so I hustle Joseph inside and close the door as softly as possible.

The dumbass sits on my bed with a greatly exaggerated weary sigh and I hush him furiously. He examines my décor with some distaste while I gather up everything I think I might need into a backpack. Thankfully, I didn’t bring anything important when I took the room in the hotel. Once everything is ready, I pull out the shortwave and try to raise Thom on our predetermined emergency frequency. Much to my relief, he answers almost immediately and asks where I’ve been and if I’m ok. I assure him that I am and ask what the situation is. He tells me that the new guys have only stopped one of his convoys so far, and that the usual bribe was enough to get them to look the other way. That is good, it means we are dealing with the same class of tyrants and that hopefully things won’t change much. I tell Thom I will need to have someone extracted to a safe country as soon as possible. He says he’ll see what he can arrange, but it might take a little bit of time. I thank him and sign off, stuffing the radio in my backpack with all of the other gear.

The slums are too dangerous with these bizarre patrols and my apartment is obviously not going to work, so the only option left is good old roughing in the mountains. I ask Joseph if he’s ever camped before and he gives me a look like I asked him if he ever licked a frog’s ass before. I assume that’s a “no” and sigh. I can just imagine him bitching nonstop already. Added on to the fact that my tent is just barely big enough for two. This ought to be fun.

Joseph

Oh this is just great, out of nowhere Candy asks me the ridiculous question of if I’ve ever been camping before and now she’s shoving a collapsed tent into my arms and gathering up what I assume is camping gear. Here we are in the first somewhat habitable shelter that I’ve been in all day and she is so paranoid that she would rather live like a vagrant. Whenever I start to suggest that we stay here or go back to my hotel she shushes me and continues to gather supplies. I wander into her sorry excuse for a kitchen and rummage around for something edible because I am near the point of collapse from hunger. I am hoping that there is a liquor cabinet in here somewhere as well, a little booze would go a long way toward soothing my nerves. I find a bottle of cooking wine in the cupboard and seeing as there don’t appear to be any other options at the moment, this will have to do. The first swig tastes terrible but the second, then the third, progressively less so. I find some bread and some peanut butter and set about making myself a nice sandwich. Candy comes in just as I’m cutting off the crusts and gives me a poisonous look before collecting food items for our little adventure ahead. It seems I can’t do anything without provoking her wrath today.

As I stand there eating a dry peanut butter sandwich and drinking cooking wine, a bright light hits me through the window and dazzles me for a moment. I squint into the beam and part the blinds to see if I can figure out where the light is coming from. Just as I realize that it looks kind of like a searchlight, Candy bounds into the kitchen and tackles me to the floor, which makes me drop my sandwich. She asks what the fuck is wrong with me and I reply by asking her the same thing because I am angry about the sandwich. She growls in frustration and grabs me roughly, pulling us both to our feet. She tells me to grab the tent and run. As we burst into the hall there are heavy footsteps coming up the stairs toward us. Candy curses and pulls me the window with the fire escape, where I promptly freeze in my tracks. There is no way I am risking my neck on that rickety old iron ladder. Candy tells me that if I don’t start climbing down it she is going to throw me out the window and I actually kind of believe her. I toss the tent down to the ground below and gingerly lower myself down to the fire escape, certain at any moment it will collapse and kill us both messily. I can’t seem to go fast enough because Candy keeps shouting at me to pick up the pace and stepping on my fingers. There is a terrible commotion going on in the hallway we just exited but I don’t dare look up to see what it is. Mercifully, we reach the bottom without incident and I hop to solid ground with great relief. I am very proud of myself but Candy is right behind me and in no mood to celebrate the fact that we just cheated death. She stuffs the tent into my chest and takes off running like a shot, prompting me to have to catch up. I can hear shouts behind us and some sort of vehicular commotion, which only serve to help me run faster.

My lungs are on fire when Candy finally slows down and I collapse to my knees and beg her to stop for a moment. She is breathing pretty hard too, but I am on the verge of passing out. She crouches down and in an unexpected kind gesture, offers me water from a bottle in her bag, which I drink gratefully. When I finally have my composure regained to the point where I can speak, I ask her where we are going. The answer is not something I wanted to hear. Apparently, she’s got a spot in some sort of mountains that she camps in when things get hot. Mountains of all things, I ask her if there will be snow and she laughs at me like I’m retarded. She assures me that the weather will be just fine and that we should get going because it is a long hike. I sigh and struggle to my feet, to weary to complain any more. I figure if the soldiers don’t find and kill me this trip probably will so I might as well get it over with.

Hours later, we are making pretty good progress into the mountains, a nice sunrise is coming up in front of us, and I am coasting nicely on my second wind. The air is crisp and invigorating, not like the stale stifling air back in town. Birds are singing and there is dew underfoot and I can’t believe that I am actually in a good mood now. Candy’s mood seems to have lightened as well, she hasn’t scolded me over anything in at least an hour. Cautiously, so as not to disturb our tenuous peacefulness, I ask how much further her campsite is. She points to a ridge ahead and says the spot is just past there and this is good news because it is not far at all.

The spot is an interesting little clearing that is nicely hidden from site by a number of large sheets of rock that just up from the ground, creating kind of a natural sunken courtyard. I get the tent set up, well, Candy mostly does it but I hold the poles, and it looks like we are in pretty good shape. Candy tells me that I should really get some sleep and I agree whole-heartedly. The moss under the tent makes the ground just soft enough and I wrap up in the blanket that Candy gave me and then I am out like a light.

The pleasant smell of meat cooking and wood smoke wakes me and I peek out of the tent to see that it is almost dusk. Apparently, I really needed some shuteye. Candy smiles and offers me the grub that she rustled up over the campfire she built. I accept it gladly and practically wolf down the sausage and bread. I ask how she knows how to do all of this stuff and she tells me it’s just practice, she comes out here a lot because it is so nice to get away. Although I can’t understand actually wanting to subject yourself to this, I nod understandingly and continue eating. Candy says that she is going to make a supply run so that we can hold out for a few days. I ask if this means that she is going back into town but she tells me that there is a sort of rogue’s depot out in these mountains that caters to those who need supplies but can’t go into town for whatever reason. She says it is a two-hour round trip and asks if I will be ok here for that long. Sensing my apprehension, she assures me that she has never seen another soul in this area while camping here, and she gives me a badass giant knife to protect myself with in case anything goes down. I am sold with the knife and I assure her that I’ll guard the campsite until she gets back. Candy smirks and heads off into the darkening wilderness.

It is hard to tell time without a watch in the pitch-black mountains but it really feels like it has been more than two hours. I couldn’t even pick out what direction we first hiked in from if I had to get out of here, without Candy I am truly screwed. I keep fidgeting with the knife nervously, and I have now cut myself three times with it. I wince as the third slices my thumb and I suck on the blood that starts seeping out. I darn near bite it off when something starts crunching through he brush around the site, heading in my direction. I hope to God that it is Candy coming back but the fire has died down to embers so there is only a faint glow around the campsite that I can’t see past. I get into the best defensive crouch that I can come up with and hold the knife in striking position. Instead of an attacker, a flashlight beam hits me right in the eyes and I hear Candy laughing while I wince. She asks why I let the fire go out and I realize, much to my embarrassment, that it had not occurred to me that I would have to keep putting wood in it to keep it alive. She tuts at me and jokes that she forgot to bring along her PowerPoint presentation on basic survival skills. Which I have to admit, is pretty funny. She tells me that she is going to get some sleep, and that I should wake her if I think anyone is coming. I assure her that I am on top of things and start tending to the fire, trying to be somewhat useful for once.

NaNoWriMo Day 12

2007-11-12T14:49:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 20,045

Joseph

Jesus, my nerves are completely shot and Candy is driving this jeep like a crazy person. I keep asking her to slow down and she’s being unnecessarily crude with her replies. I understand that we are trying to get away from a nasty firefight, but if we die in a car accident it wouldn’t have made much of a difference if we decided to hang around and get shot instead. I have no idea where she is taking me but I get the sinking feeling that we are heading straight into the unwashed masses in that horrible slum we passed on the way into the city. I ask if this is indeed the case but Candy is too busy being a suicidal maniac behind the wheel to answer. She finally slows it down to a less asshole-puckering speed, but that is due more to the increased traffic than any common sense on her part. She’s beeping the horn and screaming at people like a lunatic and I have had just about all that I’m willing to take for one day.

Look here, I say, just because you saved my ass back there doesn’t mean that you are in charge now. I’ll be damned if I let her take me into that horrible place. She stops the jeep with a screech and glares at me. Fine, she says, get out. Ouch, I wasn’t quite expecting that. I apologize and try to explain that I’m a little rattled but she just snorts and jams the accelerator down again. I guess I don’t have any choice but to stick with her until I get things figured out. I sure wish Molly was around, she would know what to do.

Candy stops the jeep again after a few minutes if icy silence and jumps out into the fast-moving crowd. I frantically follow, asking her why she ditched the jeep. She explains that a military jeep would be like a signal flare around here and we shouldn’t be anywhere near it when the bad guys come a-looking. That makes sense, I guess, but now that I’m pressed up against these people I can’t say that I’m very thrilled about it. Everyone is staring like they’ve never seen a guy in a bathing suit and flip-flops before. Come to think of it, they probably haven’t. I am barely able to keep up with Candy, who is weaving and ducking her way through the thick crowd like a ghost. I keep getting held up by people trying to sell me chickens or something equally ridiculous. I call out to her to slow down a little and she shoots me back a glare that could turn your hair white. I don’t know what has put her in such a mood, aside from the whole almost dying thing, but she is really being difficult.

I panic a little when she suddenly disappears from sight, but a hand shoots of a nearby tent and she pulls me inside the musky dank hovel. She quickly barters with a toothless old man in a language I can’t even identify and just like that he is handling her a bundle of soiled rags and she is handing him cash. She tosses some fabric at me and tells me to put it on. To my horror, I realize that it is one of the long robes that pretty much everyone out there is wearing and she wants me to wear it too. I shake my head violently until she impatiently explains that I will need it to blend in or I will be spotted and either captured or executed immediately. Apparently, corrupt new governments don’t like foreigners hanging around with their own agendas. I sigh and pull the robe over my head and oh god it smells like two goats had sex on it and I have to suppress a gag.

Just as I’m able to choke down the bile in my throat I notice that Candy has also donned a robe and is now rubbing dirt into her face. Before I can ask what she’s doing she comes at me with a handful of it and I nearly fall over backwards trying to get away. She huffs and tells me that this is also necessary to blend in. Grudgingly, I let her spread the grime on my face.

We emerge back into the crowded street and suddenly I’m not attracting so much attention as before. I guess Candy knows what she’s doing after all. She leads me deeper into the slums, to a decrepit little food stand, and begins speaking with the proprietor in Chinese. They talk for some time before he hands her a bowl of soup that she tries to pass on to me but there is no way I’m eating god knows what it is in that soup. I tell her I’m not hungry and she shrugs and tucks into it herself. The sad irony is that I am actually starving, I’m just not that desperate yet. I’ll find some real food when I convince her to take me back to civilization. She thanks the man and we move on.

Over her shoulder, she tells me while we walk that the food guy Yao said there have been patrols from the new guys in charge coming through and taking people away. No one knows who they are looking for or why they are taking those specific people. Either way, it makes me nervous, and I start scanning the crowd with a paranoid eye. Any one of these miserable sons of bitches could start hollering and pointing at me and some crazy dark-skinned Gestapo would come swooping in out of nowhere and drag me off kicking and screaming.

Idly, I wonder if General Xu made it out of the Ministry alive. I’ll bet he’d be pretty ticked off to see that I managed to escape. The interrogation, if one would be so inclined to call it that, is still mostly a blur and I sincerely hope it stays that way. My body hurts all over and my request that we look for some aspirin made Candy snarl at me like a Doberman. I just hope they didn’t do any weird sex stuff like those old Guantanamo Bay pictures from the Iraq war. That would just be icky.

After what seems like an endless trek through the labyrinthine bowels of poverty town, Candy leads me into a dilapidated wooden shack that sits crammed together with a bunch of other dilapidated wooden shacks. There is an old woman inside, huddled in blankets even though it has to be a hundred and twenty degrees in here, and Candy kisses her on the cheek with some soft words of greeting. The woman nods and goes back to sitting there and being old, and Candy takes a seat in the corner with a tired sigh. Seeing no other options, I head over and plop down next to her, waiting patiently for her to explain where we are, what we are doing, and how long until we can get back to the real world. After a long few minutes with no such explanation arriving, I go ahead and ask those very questions. Candy says the old woman is a dear friend of hers, has helped her out on many occasions. She tells me we are going to lay low here for a while until things in the city calm down a bit. Then she is going to start checking her contacts to find out what’s going down. So basically, a whole bunch of crap I didn’t want to hear and don’t agree with one little bit. I tell her I have to get back to the hotel to get my things and call Nanodyne so they can send someone to get me out of this clusterfuck. Oh, and to find Molly too. I didn’t want to lose face by calling when Molly disappeared and I lost my passport, but I think a military coup is a pretty good excuse for requesting rescue from the cavalry. Plus, I’ll have some boss war stories to impress everyone with and the old man will be proud of my ability to make it through such a tight spot in one piece. Then the corner office will be all mine.

Candy says fine, do what I want. Just don’t lead anyone back to her when I eventually get caught. Damn her, she is willing to brush me off so casually, yet risked her neck to pull me out of the Ministry. This chick is dippy, even more than most. Molly would have thought up a much better plan than to sit around this dump and do nothing. I cross my arms and sulk while she curls up on the floor for a power nap. The old lady is staring at me and smiling in a really disturbing fashion and I am not a happy camper.

Candy

I’m too jazzed up to sleep but if that mother fucker whines about one more thing I’m going to punch him in the throat. So I just lay here, eyes closed, listening to the hustle and bustle outside, and thankfully he stays quiet. I can tell that he is well and truly lost without his assistant, one of those chest-puffing poseurs that seem to be the norm in the corporate world. I hope all of my people are safe. God damn, it is going to be such a pain in the ass to start the whole series of bribes, new smuggling routes, and learning how to skirt around new laws. If these guys are what I think they are, looks like I’m back to covering up in public again. Shit, I hate those things. How is a girl supposed to get any attention from the boys if she is dressed like a formless black lump of goo? It is kind of fun going nude underneath though, just naughty and dangerous enough for a bit of fun on a boring afternoon. Lord help me if they ever caught me. I saw what the hardliners from three regimes ago did to that poor girl who let her ankles show. I am rather attached to my various bits and pieces, and I wouldn’t much like to lose any of them.

This changeover is going to put a serious dent in my finances while we restructure. I’m sure the squeaky clean funds in the bank are seized along with everyone else’s in the country. My stashes all depend on what is safe to get to now, and there won’t be any new revenue coming in until we rework the whole damn system. I am definitely going to need some quick cash to buy Joseph’s way out of here, although I don’t know why I’m even bothering to help. He is abhorrent on every level, but I can’t just leave the guy flopping around out here like a goldfish out of the bowl. This place would eat him alive. I really feel sorry for Molly, but unfortunately there isn’t much I can do for her. Especially not with all this additional nonsense going down. As sick as it sounds I kind of hope someone murdered her nice and quick. It would be a lot more merciful than if she was taken and sold into slavery by those awful bastards. I’ll never forget the look on poor Marta’s eyes when they came in the middle of the night and took her. I couldn’t do anything but run for my life or they would have gotten me too. I wish for all the world I didn’t take one last look back to see her being dragged away, pleading for me not to go. I always thought I would come back one day and rescue her, or at least punish the ones who took her. I’m just a small American girl though, I would need an army to take them down. They are too big, too powerful, and too connected for the likes of me. The best thing I can do is continue winning the small victories, and be just enough of a pain in their ass not to warrant any serious heat. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll have my chance.

The peace of the room and a nice belly full of Yao’s soup are starting to make me drowsy, and I decide a nap might be a good idea after all. It is impossible to know when the next chance to sleep will be. I try to push the sound of Joseph fidgeting next to me out of my mind and concentrate on falling asleep. Such a miserable man, I wonder if he has a girlfriend. There is no ring on his finger so that’s out. I would think by the way he was hitting on me that he is single, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was one of those “it isn’t cheating if you are on a different continent” type of clowns. He is so offensive in every single way I can possibly imagine, no wonder he’s an office drone errand boy. I hope that saving his ass wins me just enough positive karma to keep my own sweet caboose out of trouble for just a little while longer. Long enough to be able to get the people I care about far, far away from this goofy place to somewhere they can start over in peace. Which reminds me, first thing first I need to check up on Pratima to make sure that she is ok. Her and her family’s well being comes before any personal concerns. Maybe I can stick Joseph with her brothers while I check things out. If anyone deserves hours of aggravation at the hands of those two it is most definitely him. If he thinks being beaten to a pulp by General Xu was bad, wait until he suffers the awe inspiring roughhousing of the fabulous insano-brothers. He’ll be begging me to send him back to the Ministry of Defense. I wonder if old Xu made it out alive? It would be kind of sad, just a little teeny bit, if he wasn’t around anymore. I always considered him as something of a worth arch-nemesis. Him always waiting for me to screw up just enough for him to finally take me down, and me always staying one step ahead. I’m going to miss the cranky old fuck. Sleep finally takes hold and I drift off with Xu’s stern face lingering in my mind.

NaNoWriMo Day 9

2007-11-09T14:00:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 17,615

Joseph

I keep wondering what poor son of a bitch got smacked down by Xu last night. He’s like Darth Vader, offing underlings for failing him. At least, that’s what it sounded like. Maybe I am letting my imagination run wild, it was spooky in there and I hadn’t had a drink all evening. My mind tends to race when I’m sober. Either way, I survived through the night, and I really need to get out of this place. There is a new guard at my door when I open it and I ask him to ask the General if I can head back to the hotel for a bit. He tells me, orders me actually, which I find a bit rude, to stay in my room until he gets back. I’ll have to tell Xu to have a talk with his men about simple manners when dealing with guests.

The guard returns a few minutes later and says I can go, but only with an escort. I tell him that I don’t want an escort and that I am perfectly capable of going on my own. No escort, no leave, he says, and the look in his eye tells me that he isn’t fooling around. Fine, I sigh. So that’s how things are going to be now.

The day outside of the Ministry is bright and hot as fuck. My shirt starts to stick to my back almost immediately. I look over at my escort, the same guard from the door to my room, and smirk. He’s decked out in full uniform, and I just know he’s got to be miserable. Serves you right, you pushy asshole. We hop into a waiting jeep and he drives me to the hotel quickly.

I am looking forward to a cooling dip in the pool but I have to go up to the room to get my swim trunks. Everything looks just as I left it, which is good. I pull my trunks out of a drawer and clear my throat with an awkward glare at my soldier buddy. It takes him a few seconds, but he finally gets it and steps out of the room so I can change. I put on the trunks, slip on a pair of flip-flops, grab a towel, and I am ready to hit the pool. I meet the guard in the hall and we start toward the elevator. Just before we get there, I realize that I still have my watch on. I don’t want to leave it laying around by the pool so I tell him that I’m going to run back to the room real quick to leave it there. He nods impatiently, and waits by the elevator.

I hustle back to the room and drop off the watch, and just as I am coming back out, who should I see leaving her own room down the hall but the cute girl, Candy. She recognizes me with a start and comes hurrying over with some urgency. She asks where I’ve been and where is Molly and before I can respond her eyes go huge when she spots something behind me. It is right then that I remember that Xu seemed awfully interested in her the day before and I realize the guard must have come back around the corner from the elevator. He shouts when he sees Candy and she takes off like a shot down the hallway in the other direction. I try to stand in his way as he runs after her, just to buy her a few seconds, but he elbows me in the throat as he runs right past and I go down like a bag of dirt. I’m still coughing and gasping for breath when I hear Candy screaming and cursing down the hallway. The sounds of struggle continue on for a few seconds until I hear a groan and a thump. Shit, I hope he didn’t kill her. I cautiously crawl to the corner and peek around to see Candy unconscious on the floor and the soldier grimacing while trying to bandage what looks like a nasty bite on his hand. I guess she went down fighting. He sees me and orders me over there with a snap, like I’m a dog. I don’t want another elbow in the throat so I meekly comply and join him. He pulls out a radio and barks something into it while I look down at Candy. She’s alive, which is good. It looks like he conked her on the head pretty bad. Her mouth is ringed with his blood, my guess of a bite was spot on.

Another group of soldiers arrive at the hotel and escort Candy and I out none too subtly. The other guests stare, I guess the site of a guy in swim trunks and an unconscious girl being dragged through the lobby by sullen soldiers is pretty eye-catching. They herd us into the back of a covered army truck and we zoom off, heading for what I assume will be the ugly end of the Ministry. Once we get there I should be able to clear this all up with Xu, I certainly didn’t do anything wrong. Whatever they want her for it’s got fuck all to do with me.

Xu isn’t around when we get there and they put me in a separate interrogation-style room. It is cold as hell in here and I still only have trunks and flip-flops on. They have one of those big mirrors like in cop shows, and I assume it’s one of those one-way deals. I examine my throat and see that there is a bruise already starting to form. That jerkoff could have crushed my windpipe, I’ll be sure to have a word or two with the General about that. It’s high time these guys realize that they are dealing with an American who is here representing a very powerful corporation. Nanodyne could buy and sell their laughable little government a hundred times over if it wanted to.

After what seems like hours, I really begin to wish I hadn’t left my watch in the hotel. Finally, someone unlatches the door and the noise makes me jump from the uncomfortable chair I am sitting in. General Xu comes in looking mighty smug, followed by my guard / captor. I launch right into it, you can’t treat me this way, do you have any idea who I am, how dare you lock me up, the whole shebang. Xu calmly reaches back and slaps me hard in mid sentence. I am too shocked to do anything but stare. He tells me to sit and sit I do, quickly. I’m beginning to think I should have played it a bit cooler.

The next few hours are a brutal affair indeed. Xu grills my every move since coming into the country, who I’ve talked to, where I’ve been, and what I know. He demands that I tell him where Molly is and will not accept that I still have no idea. He wants to know how long I’ve known Candy, what kind of dealings I’ve had with her, and why I arranged to meet her at the hotel. Once again, he is less than convinced by my answers. Things look very bad, and when the guard leaves and comes back with an ominous-looking suitcase, things look even worse.

Candy

God damn, that guy nearly kicked my head in. Who knew military guys knew karate? I’ll bet he’s gonna need stitches for that hand though, so I’ve got that going for me. They stuck me in a packed cell that’s too small to lay down in, so they crammed me in practically bent in half. My hips were killing me when I woke up, I think that might be what brought me around. Of course, everything is gone. My bag, phone, ID, I am pretty much screwed. I wish I knew what I was even in trouble for so I could start figuring out how I am going to talk my way out of it. Of all of the not-so-legal things I’m involved with, not one little bit of it has to do with Joseph or Molly. Or even Fred, for that matter, unless you consider the occasional bizarre fetish indulgence for hefty compensation illegal. It can’t be prostitution if there is no sex involved!

I have to pee like a racehorse and the tiny cell is obviously lacking in facilities, so I do the first thing that comes natural: I bang on the door and holler loud enough to wake the whole town up. There is a slot at eye level on the heavy metal door and it flies open with a shriek to reveal the angry eyes of whoever they stuck here to guard me. I tell him I have to piss in Chinese, just to emphasize the urgency and not to waste any time while he translates the English in his head, assuming he even speaks it. He says nothing and forcefully slides the slot shut again. Like that’s going to shut me up. I start up with the banging and yelling again and he wastes no time opening the slot back up. He holds up one finger, telling me to wait, then closes the slot. If he had just done that the first time, we could have saved precious seconds.

After getting approval from whomever, he finally opens the door and calls me out at gunpoint. We march down the hall and out into a courtyard, where he begins to motion at the ground with his weapon. Great, forced to pee like a dog in front of a soldier who is pointing a rifle at my face. As luck would have it, I have to go too bad to argue the point, so I drop trou and squat. The soldier seems appalled by the whole thing and he turns his face away, which makes me feel that much better about the whole situation.

After what seems like an eternity, I finally get it all out with a sigh of relief. He cautiously looks back over when I stand up, buttoning my jeans. He motions me back inside, and I give him a pout with some raised up eyebrows. He isn’t buying it though, so I walk back into the building in a huff. As we head down the hallway toward the cell, I notice a slight rumble in the floor. This is followed by another rumble, then another, each growing stronger. I stop and look back at the guard, and he seems a bit troubled by this too. Without warning, the floor buckles with a massive bang and we are both tossed violently to the floor. The guard starts screaming into his radio as what sounds like explosion after explosion hit the building, shaking grit from the rafters. Ladies and gentleman, it looks like we have a coup attempt. I’ve never seen one from the inside before. Lucky me.

The guard grabs me by the arm and tries to hustle me back into my cell. Nuh uh, no way buster, I am not going to hide in a closet while you assholes blow the place up around me. I struggle with him until his attention is diverted by the sound of machine gun fire from the other end of the hallway and I kick him in the nuts. He goes down with a surprised yelp and I run like the wind in the direction opposite the gunfire, which seems to be getting louder by the second.

The place is in chaos, squads of soldiers rush past me without a second glance as I try to find my way out of the place without getting killed. I hop up a stairwell two at a time and burst through the door only to stop dead in my tracks at the sight of General Xu frantically ordering his men to various positions. I duck back into the stairwell and peek through the window carefully. Xu shouts into his radio for a bit, opens the door to the room behind him with a little more shouting, then goes running off to join the fight with the soldier who was in the room on the other end of the shouting. After counting to ten to make sure they are really gone, I sneak out into the hallway and continue on, staying as low as I can. When I pass the door that the General was standing in front of I catch the briefest glimpse of a hairy white leg with a flip-flop and I stop with a gasp and double back. It’s Joseph all right, looking very much the worse for wear. He regards me hazily when I start to untie him from the chair he’s strapped to and tries to talk with a bloody mouth. Damn, Xu really working him over good. I wonder what they think he knows?

I get Joseph to his feet, barely, and the two of us stagger back out to look for an exit. The gunfire is everywhere now, coupled with enraged shouts and the occasional grenade blast. Joseph stumbles a few times because he’s still having trouble with his balance, and he nearly takes me with him more than once. He’s lucky I’m a nice girl, but he will definitely be rewarding me handsomely if we make it out of here alive.

After a few minutes of struggling, he starts to come to his senses enough to walk on his own. He asks me what’s going on and I tell him that it looks like someone wants to take over the government thing for a while. He seems nonplussed, like he didn’t think it could actually happen, but I’ve seen enough of these in my short life to know how alarmingly regular they are. We get close to an exit but there is a massive firefight going down in the lobby before the doors so we stop behind some rubble that came down from the archway in the door when something blew up and watch the action. The attackers look like they might be Pakistani, perhaps a rebel group. The symbol that some of them have on their uniforms doesn’t look familiar to me. They all have beards, I guess they may be a Muslim splinter group. Wherever they are from these guys are fearless and kind of crazy, but they are also winning. Xu’s men, what’s left of them, are pinned into a corner behind some overturned desks, vainly fighting for their lives from the approaching fighters. If we have any chance at all, this would be it. I grab Joseph’s arm and nod toward the door. He nods back that he is ready. On a silent three count, we bolt from the collapsed hallway and make a break for the glass doors across the lobby. Someone spots us and there are shouts and gunfire from behind but we make it just barely and burst through the doors at full speed. The battle has rendered the well-manicured grounds of the Ministry a smoking war zone. A Jeep with a dead body in the driver’s seat sits idling quietly from where is rammed into a tree. I tell Joseph to get in it and I haul the body out of the way. I jam the Jeep away from the tree and spin it out into the street, then gun it hard on the way to the anonymity of the ghetto.

NaNoWriMo Day 8

2007-11-08T11:37:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 15,020

Joseph

The new digs at the Ministry of Defense are actually not too shabby, all things considered. There is such a crazy mishmash of decorations and objects on display from all of the different groups in charge over the years. I guess whenever the new guys move in they just add their stuff to the stuff that is already there. For instance, the hallway leading to my room has Chinese vases, gold statues of Hindu gods, and lavish prayer rugs. There is a lot of money in this place, that’s probably why each new government decided against getting rid of their predecessor’s prized possessions.

Xu posted an armed guard outside of my door, which is kind of weird. I would think that being inside of the Ministry of Defense I was quite safe already, but he is the expert in these things. It is pretty boring around here and I am edgy without any booze to keep me level. I suppose I could ask for some but it probably isn’t a good idea. The General seems like a guy on the straight and narrow.

This being a government institution, the only television I can get is the heavily censored, officially approved stations. Which, unfortunately, suck a lot. I’m climbing up the walls and I’ve only been here for four hours. The guard at the door knocks and comes in before I can even respond. He tells me in broken English that the General wants to see me and to follow him. We walk down a series of hallways, each becoming less opulent than the last. Finally, we are in what looks like an underground bunker and into what must be the General’s “War Room.” Xu sits at a long table in front of a series of folders and motions for me to sit next to him. He opens one of the folders as I sit and pulls out a bunch of photographs. He asks me to look at each and let him know if I recognize anyone. The first one is an odd looking Indian guy, nothing there, ditto the next few, but I instantly recognize the picture of the cute spunky girl, Candy, that we had dinner with several days ago. I tell Xu that we started talking because she was also American and she had seen the guy we are looking for around town. Xu takes great interest in this last bit and asks for confirmation that this girl was involved with Freidrich Brandt. I say that involved might not be the right word to use, she just said she recognized him but didn’t know who he was. The General seems slightly disappointed and asks me to continue. The next photo is also of Candy, laughing with a pretty Indian girl that I don’t recognize. Xu asks me to concentrate on her just to be sure, but I’ve got nothing.

None of the other photos ring a bell so he changes gears and grills me for anything that I can remember about Molly’s plans the day she disappeared. All I can remember is that she was going to check out some sort of nightclub. He opens another folder, pulls out a picture of a drab, featureless building, and asks if this is the one. I shrug and say I never saw it. He asks if Q sounds familiar, and after thinking long and hard I say it might. Nodding sharply, he turns to one of his men and barks out an order, sending the soldier hurrying out of the room.

The owner of this club, he tells me, has been under suspicion for a number of illegal activities for quite some time. The government has not yet taken him down because they believe he is small time, and they are waiting for him to slip up and reveal who the bigger fish are. Xu believes that if Molly did indeed go to this club, she could be in grave danger. The white slave trade is still alive and well in certain circles, and a pretty, blonde American like Molly would fetch top dollar. I consider this for a moment, proper Ms. Molly chained up, turned out, and auctioned off as a sex slave, and can’t help but be slightly amused by the thought. It would be horrible of course, just terrible and we must do everything we can to prevent it, but I’ll be darned if it doesn’t turn me on just a little bit in the deepest darkest parts of my brain.

Xu assures me that they will search the club thoroughly, and if there is any sign of Molly, they will severely punish whoever may be involved with her abduction. I thank him and ask if there is anything else I can do but he says no, I should return to my room. So, grudgingly, back to my room I go.

Damn it all to hell, it is the middle of the night and I can’t sleep for shit. I need a drink, Xu’s disapproval be damned. I throw some clothes on and head out to the hallway to ask the guard if he knows where I can score some hooch. Funny thing is, the guard isn’t there. I figure maybe they are changing shift and make my way to where I think the kitchen might be. The place is a ghost town, all of the soldiers and government workers that bustled around during the day are gone. The place is kind of spooky, all dark and quiet. I am surprised that I haven’t seen a single guard yet. I pick up angry voices drifting from the military wing and tiptoe over to snoop. General Xu is really giving some guy the business in a room with a door just slightly ajar. Of course, I can’t understand a damn thing he’s saying, but he really sounds pissed. Suddenly, he stops yelling and there is a sharp crack followed by a thump. Boot heels start to cross the room toward the door where I am crouching and I high tail it back to my room before anyone sees me.

Candy

Oh my god, my legs are still quivering and the endorphin overload, plus the nice alcohol buzz, has made me semi-retarded. I have to keep assuring Pratima that I am ok, much, much better than ok actually, but I am having a hard time getting the message across and she is worried to death. That dear, dear Chirag, there are very few people in this world who know what I like better than he does. If only he liked girls, I’d marry him in second. Pratima keeps grilling me about what was in the room, but all I can do is giggle and swoon. She’s not ready for something like that, in fact she never may be, and if I told her everything she would probably swear off our friendship forever. I can’t have that, she’s the one who keeps me grounded. Everyone needs a normal friend to keep them from going too far to the edge.

She is still a little upset with me for bringing her to a place like that, but by the time we get back to her house she is so relieved that I am ok and kind of giddy that she witnessed something she never could have imagined that she doesn’t give me too much of a hard time. We fall asleep in her bed spooning, in a purely platonic fashion, enjoying each other’s warmth and friendship.

There are several frantic messages on my machine when I get home the next morning from Jade, one of the girls who works at Q. She says something happened but neglects to go into specifics so I call her back asap. She answers on the first ring and asks if we can meet somewhere safe, which makes me think she believes someone might be listening. Or watching. I tell her to meet at Yao’s, it is a fairly crowded place and anyone of authority would be instantly recognizable in the slums. Even in disguise, official types carry themselves differently than normal people, and if you know what to look for you can spot one from a mile away.

Jade is visibly shaken and I hand her some hot tea and try to calm her down. She says the military raided Q last night after I left. They roughed up Chirag and dragged him away without reading him any official charges. She tells me that they carted off a good deal of regulars too, for indecent acts and prostitution. She is scared to death for Chirag and what they will do to him. I try to assure her that everything will be ok and that Chirag will be just fine, but I don’t really believe it myself. Xu and his cronies let the club operate under their noses all this time and they only now take it down? I refuse to believe that they didn’t know what was going on in there before. For them to bust in there like that all of a sudden, something bigger must be going down. But I know Chirag, I know all of his dealings, at least I think I do. What I do know, at least, is that he doesn’t dip his toe into anything that would bring down this kind of heat.

I ask Jade if she can think of anything unusual that has gone on in the club lately and she shakes her head with a sniffle. She thinks for a second, though, and says there was a new woman in the club a couple of nights ago. She was American, uptight looking, but Jade thinks she saw her head into the back with a handsome Turk before she lost track of her. She asks if that might have anything to do with all of this and I chew my lip in thought. It has to be that chick Molly, but what in the world was she doing there? Then I remember that Freddy was quite the regular and it makes sense. She must have been asking around about him. Shit, I hope nothing happened to her there, that is some heat that nobody needs. If someone got a little too rough and she ended up dead, Chirag could be executed just because he owns the place. Americans, they fuck everything up. I can’t let Chirag go down like this, he has saved my ass far too many times. I have to find the guy, Joseph, and find out what the hell is going on.

The hotel manager shrugs and says he is unable to help me any further. I knew this guy hated me, ever since I started flirting with Akil. All he could tell me was that Joseph left indefinitely, and I have nothing else to go on. Things are getting way too weird. I shouldn’t get involved, hell, I shouldn’t even stay in the country, but I can’t leave Chirag high and dry. Plus, it would be a shame if the traders got their mitts on that Molly chick. God, imagine if the FBI started snooping around here trying to find her. I’d have to hide out in the mountains for months. I guess I’ll have to find Joseph the hard way, by asking anyone and everyone if they have seen him around.

A few hours later, the only thing I’ve learned is that a friend of a friend of a friend saw an American man being treated for a head wound at the hospital recently. That makes some sense, if there is anyone capable of driving someone to try to bash in their skull, it’s Joseph. Otherwise, no one knows a thing about our missing friends. Anyone who might be able to give me more about Molly’s activities at the club is either in jail or in hiding. Discouraged, I walk my scooter toward home to save some gas.

I stop cold in my tracks when I get near my building because there is an army jeep parked out front. Not that I’m paranoid or anything, but I’m pretty sure they are there to visit me. Cursing, I hop on my scooter and try to start her up, but the old bitch is being stubborn and refuses to turn over. I hear someone shouting and footsteps coming fast behind me and I drop the scooter and take off as fast as I can. I duck and weave through alleys and over fences, not even bothering to see if anyone is giving chase. Shit, it’s been a long time since I had to outrun the authorities and I have let myself get shamefully out of shape. The cigarettes aren’t helping either, I’m wheezing like a fat man on a stairmaster in a matter of minutes. I make a promise to God, Allah, Buddha, whoever, that if I get away this time I swear I will begin to treat my body like a temple. When I finally dare to risk a look behind me, I don’t see anyone in pursuit. I slow to a trot before fully stopping and leaning against a wall gasping for air. God damn, it’s a good thing I know all of the short cuts around here.

I can’t go to Pratima’s, in case anyone is still following me, and I can’t go home for obvious reasons. In a moment of either genius or insanity, I decide to check into the Palace. Maybe Joseph or Molly will show up again. The manager hands me my room key with a disgusted glare, and I stick my tongue out at him before heading to the bar. Still no Akil, I’m starting to wonder if I may have gotten him fired. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. I really just should go be a hermit up in the mountains, what with all of the trouble I manage to cause.
A glass of wine has made me feel somewhat better, so I decide to hole-up in my room for a bit. Maybe things will cool down later and I can find out if it is safe to go back home. My run from Johnny Law has made me surprisingly tired, and suddenly a nap sounds just delightful. It’s a smart move, I rationalize to myself, a quick name and I’ll be revitalized, energy restored and ready to handle whatever comes next. I’m so gullible sometimes, I can talk myself into darn near anything.

NaNoWriMo Day 7

2007-11-07T14:21:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 12,600

Joseph

Ooooh sweet god in heaven I feel worse than the worst hangover I’ve ever had multiplied by a thousand. I’ve been eating aspirin like pez and washing them down with as much vodka as my queasy stomach can handle, but nothing seems to be helping. The last twenty-four hours are a blur, I can’t even remember how I got back to my room. Molly must have helped me come back from the hospital. She is a sweet girl underneath it all, too bad about the stick up her ass. Speaking of Molly, I wonder if she knows what happened to my wallet and passport, I can’t find them anywhere in the room. I tiptoe across the hall, due to the fact that even the sound of footsteps is painful more than the fact that it is late as hell, and knock softly on her door. She doesn’t answer and I knock progressively louder a few more times, which really puts a hurting on me. I realize that if I don’t lie down immediately I am going to be sick all over this hallway so I scoot back to my own room and try to shut the pain away by hiding under the pillows and squeezing my eyes shut until I pass out.

The intense pain is a more manageable dull ache in the morning. At least I can be somewhat functional today. Molly still doesn’t answer her door and I’m getting anxious because I don’t like being in a nutty country like this without my identification. Maybe she’s taking up the slack for me going down by interviewing more people. What a trooper. I can’t remember where she was supposed to go yesterday while I was off getting brained by some chicken shit backstabbing son of a bitch. I vaguely recollect that it was some nightclub, but I’ll be damned if I can remember where it was or what it was called. Hopefully my stomach can handle breakfast this morning because I am starving.

The waiter, the same guy we’ve had every time we’ve eaten in the restaurant no matter what meal it is, asks where my lovely wife is and I can’t help but chuckling before grunting a non-response. I order the works, pretty much one of everything, and I am just plowing in to a Greek omelet when who should appear out of nowhere and take a seat at the table but our new friend, General Xu. I could tell that Molly was uncomfortable around him from the get go, but he seems like an ok guy to me. Pretty much a no-nonsense kind of fella, just like the old man. I can respect that. He too asks where Molly is and I tell him that I was wondering the same thing. He glares at me suspiciously for a good long time, and now I am starting to get a little uncomfortable. I explain that I don’t remember much after getting hit and that she wasn’t in her room when I came to and this seems to placate him a little bit. He tells me that he will have his men check around, just to be safe, even though he is sure she is fine. He actually cracks a joke and chalks up her being missing as a typical woman thing. Nice one. If I do not hear from her by this evening, he suggests that I ask the hotel manager to open her room just to check in and make sure nothing is wrong. Such a helpful guy, no wonder he’s a General.

Xu leaves a few minutes later and I finish cramming in every scrap of food that will fit into my mouth. Oh man that was good and I am feeling mighty satisfied. Shit, Molly has the list of people yet to be interviewed, so there isn’t much I can do until she comes back. Not that I would want to go hopping around without ID as it is. I decide to take a dip in the pool and I immediately realize that this was a wonderful decision as soon as I’m in the cool, relaxing water. Molly can take her time, wherever she is.

Dinner is another solo affair and I am definitely getting worried. Before I came down the hotel manager and I peeked into Molly’s room but she wasn’t sprawled out on the floor and there was nothing that might hint to where she might have run off to. This isn’t good, she is far too uptight to be gone this long without checking in. Dammit, if I have to call Cleaver and tell him that we now have two missing employees in this hellhole I can kiss any future promotion hopes goodbye. If that stupid bitch got herself raped and murdered in some filthy back alley, it is going to completely screw over my career. My third Jack and Coke with dinner isn’t taking the edge off. I go back up to my room and call for General Xu at the Ministry of Defense. A flunkie tells me that the General will return my call immediately and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t do just that. I tell him that there are no clues in Molly’s room and he regrets to inform me that there has been no sign of her in town, and that the driver who was assigned to her is now missing as well. Jesus, this is turning into a major clusterfuck. I tell the General about my wallet and passport, although I really didn’t want to, and he replies simply with a cryptic “I see.” Now I am even more worried. Xu decides that I should be moved to the Ministry until it can be determined that I am in no immediate danger. Of course, I could have used some of that protection before I got my head bashed open, but I agree just the same. He sends a jeep full of soldiers to pick me up and I grab some clothes and go. I hope this won’t last too long, I am going to miss the food at the hotel.

Candy

Gosh, it feels good to have a day without a single thing to worry about. Sure, tomorrow I’ve got a shipment of Norwegian pornography coming in by mule and a bunch of horny buyers waiting very impatiently for it while forgetting the rules of politeness and subtlety, but today is just dandy. Max gets extra petting this morning and he purrs his approval vigorously. I’m so warm and snuggly that I never want to leave this bed, but it would be a shame to waste such a lovely day so I drag myself up and get dressed.

Score, Yao has the good stuff today and I lap it up as if it were my last meal. Feeling fat and sassy, I have the sudden and brilliant idea to fix the brakes on the scooter so I don’t careen headlong into oncoming traffic next time it rains. I so rarely get to work on the old girl these days, I love having the time to get out the tools and get nice and dirty. Prajeet, the younger and slightly less obnoxious of Pratima’s brothers, sheepishly shuffles over and asks if he can help. I give him a stern glare just for yuks, but I can’t hold the serious face very long and we both bust out into giggles. He becomes my tool hander too-er, and we have a grand old time working on the bike all afternoon.

By the evening, I am feeling restless and in the mood to party so I drag Pratima out to go clubbing, very much against her will. She is a very traditional girl, she explains for the hundredth time, and if her parents were alive to see her like this then they would surely be dead of shame. I tell her that didn’t make a whole lot of sense and she slaps my ass hard. Traditional my fanny. We are all sorts of dolled up and looking very much like trouble when we hit the town. Mothers, lock up your sons!

The first place, the name of which means Red Hot in Chinese, is a total meat market tonight. Before the most recent regime change, the government was a hardline theocracy. Women weren’t allowed to drink, and they certainly weren’t allowed to dance in public wearing shockingly little clothing. The boys at the top nowadays have too much other stuff to worry about rather than oppressing little old me. Well, oppressing any more than they already do at least. I rescue Pratima from no less than three potential suitors, one of which she’s crazy for not jumping his bones right away, and she has had her limit and wants to go somewhere else. I pout and agree grudgingly but I wasn’t really having all that much either. It’s just fun to mess with her.

I consider taking her to the Q, just because it would be a riot to see the look on her face when she saw some of the more interesting rooms there. I don’t think she’s drunk enough yet, the shock would probably send running for a convent. We go to a pretty chill little karaoke bar and have a ball amusing the regulars and trying to top each other with terrible renditions of Bollywood songs that are at least fifteen years old. Pratima is glad that I made her come out, she tells me with a tipsy giggle that she hasn’t had this much fun in ages. I remind her quickly that the last time she had this much fun was the last time I forced her to go out with me, and she sticks her tongue out at me before spilling her drink and collapsing into laughter. Why anyone would want anything to do with us crazy bitches is beyond me, but we seem to have attracted quite a bit of attention from some of the older men at the bar. One of them very generously sends over a replacement drink for Pratima and she thanks him by blowing a kiss. I swear, get some liquor in this girl and she is a completely different person. Had that happened when she was sober she would have turned beet red and her eyes wouldn’t have strayed from the floor for the rest of the night. We overstay our welcome a few times over and I finally decide that it is time for some real fun.

Pratima is nervous when we approach the Q but the alcohol is helping her deal with it. I already explained that there are no signs or anything because the place is very hip and they want to keep a relatively exclusive clientele. Of course, gullible as she is she buys this completely and even seems a little bit impressed that I am wise to such things. Oh god, is she going to hate me soon. A new guy that I don’t recognize is at the door but Chirag spots me almost immediately and welcomes us in. I introduce him to Pratima and his eyes light up. She blushes when he kisses her hand, I can tell she thinks he is a gentleman. I’ll let her hold on to that notion for a while.

We head over to the couches in the lounge and there are a few acquaintances there so I make introductions and we work our way into a most interesting conversation about the current geopolitical state of the west. After an hour goes by Pratima seems completely at ease so I decide that it is time to take the party up a few notches. I call Chirag over from where he is sleazing around some kid who looks way too young to be legal and tell him that Pratima has never had the grand tour. She immediately gets suspicious because she knows me all too well. If she noticed the people that came in and went right to the back before, she didn’t say anything. Now I bet she’s mighty curious about just what it was they were up to. Chirag takes her hand and she nervously follows him through the curtain that leads to the back, shooting me a questioning yet venomous look over her shoulder. I smile my most innocent smile, savoring the deliciousness that is about to come as we walk down the hallway toward the numerous doors that branch off to the sides.

Chirag starts us off light in the bubble room, and I can see by the look on Pratima’s face that she is curious but she knows something is up. She almost shrieks when she accidentally steps on the two women in silver lycra bodysuits that are writhing around lip locked on the floor, blending in with the chrome almost perfectly. The next two rooms are also relatively mild, if a little strange. The garbage room is unoccupied, sadly. I always wanted to see just what the hell people did in there. There are three people in the prison room, and the two men are doing very naughty things to the young woman through the metal bars. Pratima’s eyes get huge and she grabs my arm, pulling me close. She hisses that she wants to go right now, and I can tell she’s serious enough that no amount of cajoling from me will change her mind. I sigh and call her a prude before telling Chirag that we have to cut the tour short.

But wait, he says with a devilish gleam in his eyes, he has added a new room that he thinks I especially will enjoy very much. Oh that Chirag, he always knows how to push my buttons. I promise Pratima, who is positively begging me not to go alone but won’t come with me, that I won’t be gone for more than a few minutes and that she can wait for me in the lounge. She clearly doesn’t like the idea but dammit I am intrigued as hell and she is not going to spoil my fun. She hesitantly makes her way back to the lounge and I scurry over excitedly to catch up to Chirag and see the new room.

NaNoWriMo Day 6

2007-11-06T14:18:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 10,215 (1/5 of the way there!)

If he looks at my chest one more time, I swear on everything that is holy that I am going to castrate him. Joseph is drunk, again, and it isn’t even three o’clock in the afternoon yet. The only minor accomplishment that we managed so far today was convincing General Xu to authorize a flyover of some of the more rural parts of the province for any possible sign of Freidrich Brandt. At least he assured us it would be done, I trust him less than I trust Joseph’s ability to keep from making a fool of himself for at least one whole day. The way he salivated over that girl at dinner last night was revolting, although a little hussy like that certainly doesn’t deserve much better. Candy. Honestly now, what normal person is named Candy? I started to get the feeling that she knows more about Mr. Brandt than she lets on, but she seems awfully skittish about the government involvement in this matter. She’s probably a criminal, just like everyone else in this god-forsaken country. I don’t care if there is nothing left of Freidrich but a pile of bones, brilliant though he may be, I just want to go home and never again have to speak to the drooling jackass sitting across the table from me.

Mercifully, he got it in his head that we should split up for the afternoon so that we can interview different people. Unfortunately, the government provided Joseph with an interpreter, and General Xu has decided to personally escort me. Just his very presence sends a shiver down my spine; he’s like a villain in a movie. The man exudes pure malevolent evil. There is nothing I can do about that now, so I straighten my skirt and wear my polite little smile and off we go in the General’s car.

Today I am checking into a club where a number of people remember seeing Brandt often frequenting before he disappeared. When you have a government official hanging over your shoulder, people tend to remember a whole lot more than they normally would. At least Xu is useful for something. The weird thing is, whenever I ask for any additional information about the club, whomever I’m talking to clams right up and sheepishly try to change the subject. I’m guessing it has to be a gay bar, judging by how many times the different witnesses who mentioned it swore that they just stopped in there to use the phone or the bathroom, or to buy a pack of cigarettes. If that is the case, then this place is awfully swinging for a fascist military police state. The gentleman who owns the club, a Mr. Chirag, seems like a decent enough fellow on the phone, and I’m hoping he doesn’t turn out to be a degenerate like most of the people we have met on this trip. I’m not exactly counting on it though. He agrees to meet us at the club before business hours.

The club doesn’t seem to have any type of sign whatsoever on the outside. To see it, one might think it was an abandoned building or a secret lair. I’m still not one hundred percent sure what the name of the place is actually supposed to be, most of the people that I talked to called it “The Q Club.” Xu knocks sharply on the front door and a small, thin, Indian teenage boy opens it and peers out, then disappears quickly. Moments later, an older, heavier Indian man opens the door fully with a warm smile. He greets us as just plain Chirag, and welcomes us inside. Xu leads the way with a suspicious sneer set into his face, and his driver slash guard follows behind me. The place is nice, very decadent in its décor, and my initial assessment looks to be accurate. This, Mr. Chirag informs us, is merely the welcome area for new visitors to the club so that they will feel at ease before continuing. The real fun, he says, lies deeper within. I really don’t like the sound of that.

Even though we asked for no such thing, Chirag continues with the grand tour and I am starting to see why someone might be hesitant to reveal that they are a regular customer. There are various fantasy rooms set up that range from the everyday kink to some truly bizarre stuff. I bet Joseph is going to be irritated that he missed out on this place. General Xu looks positively mystified at the whole thing, and I must admit that I’m a bit confused how people can get off on things like a room full of mouse traps or an electric chair with a dildo-shaped metal rod protruding from the seat. To each his own, I suppose, and if Mr. Brandt was a regular here then I guess he wasn’t quite the buttoned down quiet man that we assumed from the nature of his work. Of course he can’t be normal, nothing about this ridiculous assignment is normal.

Chirag finally leads us to his office so that we can sit and talk. He lights a small cigar and looks carefully at the pictures of Brandt that I lay on his desk. He nods slowly, not saying anything, as if he is trying to think of where exactly to start. He eventually does begin by explaining that they do not use real names here, so he did not recognize Mr. Brandt’s name when I mentioned it over the phone. He knows him well, however, in the club he went by Hans. How original. Hans was indeed a regular at the club, in fact he was there almost every night. One wonders how he ever managed to get any of his vaunted important work done if he was sleazing around a fetish club every night. From the looks of his lab when we searched it the day before, not much work at all. I ask if there was anyone that Mr. Brandt was often seen with at the club and Chirag chuckles softly. Apparently, randy old Hans was seen with a whole lot of people. There was one man Chirag remembers that seemed to be around more often, perhaps a lover. The only way he could think to find this man, however, is if I were to come back when the club is open to see if he shows up. That is just great.

Chirag is unable to think of anything else that might help, but at least we have a slim bit of hope with this boyfriend maybe knowing where Brandt is. Chirag gives me a VIP pass, which I accept grudgingly, so that I can come back inside the club any time. Maybe I’ll slap some leather chaps on Joseph and send him in there instead. I’m sure he would have a grand old time. When we walk out of the dark club and back into the painfully bright afternoon, I ask General Xu to drive me back to the hotel because I have a headache and I would like to lie down. He eyes me coldly, probably judging my weakness as a woman, and nods curtly. They drop me off at the entrance and drive off in a cloud of dust. Thankfully, Joseph has not returned yet and I actually can actually have a moment’s worth of peace.

I must have dozed off because it is dusk when a loud banging startles me back to the world. I have no doubt that it’s Joseph, even his knock is obnoxious. When I open the door, he is standing there staring at me stupidly, swaying just a little. I ask how his interviews went but he still doesn’t say anything. This is starting to creep me out. I wave my hand in front of his face and call his name but he doesn’t flinch. He can’t be that hammered already can he? Suddenly his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a heap. That’s when I see the blood caked in the hair on the back of his head from a nasty looking would. I call hotel security, who in turn call emergency medical services, and after a whirl of activity and sirens I am sitting by Joseph’s hospital bed while machines beep and click and I wonder what the hell is going on.

It takes Joseph seven hours to come to, and when he does, General Xu has just arrived. Even in the middle of the night he is pressed and in full uniform. He probably sleeps in it, on a board so as not to wrinkle anything. Joseph looks around the room in dazed confusion at first, then smiles goofily when he recognizes me. As much as I can’t stand him, I am slightly relieved that he is ok. If the person who is supposedly in charge goes down, who knows what they would do with the assistant. General Xu doesn’t let him clear his head for long before he begins to interrogate him thoroughly. It takes a while, but Joseph is eventually able to remember that he spoke with the contact he was to meet with but didn’t learn anything useful. He then decided to visit the lab again, in case we missed anything, and that’s the last thing he remembers. The doctors told us it looks like he took a nasty crack on the back of the head, more likely from a blunt instrument than a fall. He just needed a few stitches and he’ll probably have a concussion. They want him to stay another day for observation, which leaves myself the one who has to accompany the General back to the lab to investigate. Lucky me.

The General is barking orders at the small group of soldiers he has assembled to accompany us into the lab. Each man is armed, rather heavily I would think, and they storm into the quiet building like gangbusters, nearly scaring a poor old Asian janitor to death in the process. The squad checks every square inch of the sparse lab before reporting that there is nothing there. Xu growls in frustration and orders the squad to stand guard outside. He turns to me and asks if there is anything missing that was here when we last searched the lab. I look around and shrug, there really wasn’t much here in the first place. The General huffs angrily and suggests somewhat forcefully that I look again to be sure. I bristle at being ordered like that, but I don’t think this is the time or place to pick a fight. So I slowly, almost sarcastically slowly, look around the lab extra careful and still don’t see a damn thing. I tell the General this and he stamps his foot.

When we leave, Xu makes one of the poor guys stay behind, I guess to guard the lab all night. I am starting to get a sneaking suspicion that even though they initially just promised to help us with whatever we needed, the government is also becoming very interested in Freidrich’s whereabouts. For what reason, though, I don’t quite know just yet. Brandt wasn’t working on anything that would be beneficial to them, at least not in any way that they would possibly be able to conceive. Xu assures me he will leave more men at the hospital to watch over Joseph, so I should head back to the hotel and get some rest. I agree enthusiastically, that is a very good suggestion indeed.

The local news here is strange. There are no actual news stories, it’s all fluff pieces and profiles of hardworking local citizens. The anchors look like hostages reading from a list of demands while men off camera point AK-47s at them. I shake my head and decide on Scooby-Doo in Chinese while I wait for the hospital to call and let me know that Joseph is cleared to go. I slept until pretty late in the afternoon, so it pretty much feels like the whole day is lost. Not that we had any promising leads to follow up on. I suppose I could stake out the club tonight, but I dread being mixed in and pressed up against all of those freaks. I wouldn’t even know what to wear, the sensible outfits I brought would make me stick out like a sore thumb there. I’d probably attract some weirdo with a secretary fetish who wouldn’t leave me alone all night unless I let him smell my shoes. Joseph is going to be in no condition to go, so I guess I am stuck with the task. The hospital finally calls and I go with the driver to pick Joseph up. He is still a little woozy when we get back so I help him into his room and on the bed. He opens his mouth to ask something but I toss the remote control at him, which he barely catches before if hits him in the forehead, and make a beeline out of the room. He isn’t hurt that badly and I am in no mood to play nurse. Although I suspect I’ll see plenty of other people playing nurse where I’m going tonight.

The best outfit I can put together is a black pantsuit without the jacket. I guess it doesn’t look too stuffy. Maybe if I tie the shirttails up on my stomach like a slut I will be at an acceptable level of deviance. You must be this gross to enter. I actually laugh at my reflection when I try it, so no, I don’t think that is going to work. They are just going to have to deal with this, I have a VIP card so I can come looking however I want. It’s good to be very important. The driver looks surprised when I tell him where I want to go, then he leers at me in a most horrifying fashion. This is already not going well. I raise the divider up as soon as possible so he can’t keep staring at me in the rear view mirror and I take a deep breath. I can do this, those people may be freaks but they still have to respect your boundaries. I’ll just cozy up to the first bouncer I see and make sure not to stray too far from his orbit. Unless the bouncers are freaks too, in which case I am in trouble.

The stupid driver wishes me well a little too jovially as I step out of the limo, and I sternly remind him for the fourth time that he better be right here the instant that I am ready to leave. The place looks just as deserted as it did during the day, the only thing indicating that they are open is the full parking lot of cars. I say a little calming poem, take another deep breath, and knock feebly on the door. Instead of a harsh wave of bad techno and cigarette smoke, I am greeted with pleasant violins and a well-dressed Chirag. He is so happy I came and might he say that I look lovely indeed. I thank him, still dazed by the low-key scene that I was totally unprepared for. Nicely dressed guests lounge on the couches drinking wine and laughing softly. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. Chirag hands me a glass of wine and tells me that he has not seen Hans’ male friend, but there are a good deal of those in the know that think he just might make an appearance this evening. He regrets to tell me that he must attend to some small matters for a time, but I assure him that I will be just fine here. He says he has alerted his staff to keep an eye out for our mystery man. I make my way to the couches and have a seat, smiling at the man who nods at me. He is handsome, possibly Turkish. He says his name is John, I introduce myself as Betty, and I think I just might enjoy myself tonight after all.

NaNoWriMo Day 5

2007-11-05T14:02:00.000-05:00

Word Count: 7501

Crap, Yao is out of chicken again and I absolutely refuse to believe that this other stuff he’s trying to sucker me into eating is pork. I settle for noodles with beef broth and head over to Pratima’s house to catch up on any dirt I missed while I was in the mountains. Pratima greets me warmly at the door and her two brothers come stumbling over each other into the room with goofy smiles as soon as they hear my voice. I swear, you show one 15-year old boy your tits because you feel sorry for him and you pay for it for the rest of your life. Pratima shoos the little rascals away and we sit down with some sweet tea to catch up on some long overdue girl talk. She tells me all about the excitement over the two Americans coming into town. Figures the only time something actually happens around here is when I’m gone. Apparently, they told old Raj that they were looking for the guy that disappeared not too long ago, Fred. Interesting, I was kind of curious about that myself, seeing as he owes me six hundred bucks. I might just have to keep an eye on those two in case they actually find Freaky Freddy alive and well. After a little more gossip about who’s diddling who and who knows about it, I give Pratima a hug and head back to my place so I can clean up a bit.

I’m fumbling in my bag trying to find my keys when I get off the elevator and I nearly run smack into General Xu’s chest with my forehead. How nice of him to wait for me outside of my apartment rather than just let himself in, which I’m sure he could have done without too much trouble. I give him a big friendly hello, which seems to throw him off for a second, but he settles right back into his steely coolness just as quickly as he lost it. Surprise, surprise, he wants to know about the Americans and what I have to do with their visit. Those two sure have kicked up quite a fuss already. I assure him that no, I have nothing to do with them and in fact I didn’t even know about them until half an hour ago. Xu bends down to glare into my eyes and I gotta admit he scares me just a little bit. Am I sure I haven’t offered any of my services to the foreigners? Yes sir, sure as can be, honest injun. He snorts and heads toward the elevator, telling me in no uncertain terms as he walks away to keep my nose clean. I assure him that I most definitely will but we both know that I am a filthy little liar and it’s only a matter of time before he’ll be back here again.

Word on the street is that the new folks are staying at the Palace, and I just happen to be very good friends with one of the bartenders there. Mmm, just thinking about Akil again makes me all tingly inside. Maybe I can talk him into taking a little break with me while I’m there. My scooter is almost out of gas but the old girl should have just enough to make it there and back. Hopefully, I won’t be involved in any high speed chases today. Not that the words high and speed have ever been applied to this thing in any capacity whatsoever.

Traffic is light and I make it to the Palace lickety-split. I stroll in real casual like, hoping that no one who remembers the karaoke incident from last year recognizes me. When I get to the bar my little heart is crushed because Akil isn’t working. Drag, I guess I’ll have to do what I actually came here to do and ask our new friends if they know the whereabouts of Fred. From the end of the bar, I can see the hotel entrance so I plop myself down with a club soda and wait for Mr. and Ms. New Americans to either come in or go out.

As luck would have it, they end up coming in before I’m even done with my drink. And shucks if I’m not the luckiest gal in the room today because here they come right toward the bar. At least one of them does, the woman stops in the doorway before turning around and heading toward the lobby, apparently without the man even noticing. He sits at the other end of the bar with a thump. The poor guy looks pretty flustered, he must not be having a good day. He orders a whisky rather loudly, and the bartender moves stiffly to serve him. I’m guessing these two have met before. The guy is maybe late thirties, balding a little, bit of a paunch. Nothing really remarkable about him, he looks like he works for an insurance company or something. I was kind of hoping he would be hot, but what are you gonna do.

He doesn’t see me heading over until I plop down right next to him with a smile and he looks up, startled. I give him my cutest girly act and tell him it’s nice to see a fellow countryman around these parts. He grins sheepishly and stares down into his drink, mumbling that it’s nice to see me too. Aww, the poor guy must be shy around pretty girls who come right up and introduce themselves. Candy is the name, I tell him as I shake his hand, and no, I am not a stripper. He giggles and I know I’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.

Forty-five minutes later and he is on his third tall whisky and I have learned everything he knows about Freidrich and his current whereabouts. Which is pretty much dick, unfortunately. I play things real close to the vest, I only let on that I had seen the dude around. I see no need for him to know about my dealings with Fred and the services I provided. It seems that we are at somewhat of an impasse until these nice folks are able to find out more. I am just planning to start my exit strategy before this guy Joseph inevitably asks me back to his room when I catch a bit of military green out of the corner of my eye and my heart nearly stops. Who should be strolling into the bar but the American woman and that son of a bitch General Xu. I almost spill my drink because I stand up so fast to leave and I quickly wish Joseph good luck and high-tail it as fast as I can out of the other exit and oh shit oh shit oh shit he must have seen me and it’s going to be my ass. I can just tell him that I was here to see Akil and that guy started talking to me because we are both American. That’s pretty believable and if he looks into it Akil should be smart enough to cover for me. God damn that crafty old bastard, and god damn my stupid ass for coming here in the first place.

Four days go by without any surprise visits from Darth Xu, so I’m either in the clear or he’s waiting until I do something else retarded so he can really take me down hard. Which, knowing me, the latter is probably a pretty safe bet. Just to be sure, I’ve been staying at Pratima’s, but having two horny teenage boys watch you while you’re sleeping gets real old real quick. Pratima doesn’t want me to go but I assure her that things should have blown over by now, and besides I’m sure a big important guy like Xu has more important things to worry about than little old me. I basically sneak into my apartment, sort of like Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction. Thankfully, there are no Uzis by the toaster or gangsters in the bathroom. Some Pop Tarts would hit the spot right about now though. All of this lying low has put me seriously behind on things, so after a nice long shower I am officially making this a ‘work my butt off’ day. I’ll bet Bennie is pissed, if he hasn’t panicked and swallowed the entire shipment already. I need to get Pak in touch with the buyer in Turkey, I have to pack up the LED tubes so they’ll be ready in the morning, and the database hasn’t been updated in ages. Shit, I am such a slacker.

Ugh, god my back is killing me and I’m cross eyed from staring at the computer screen for so long but everything is done and despite my gripes I am feeling pretty accomplished. It’s probably not good form to give yourself a pat on the back for doing something that you were supposed to do anyway, but what the hell I’m in a patting mood. In such a patting mood, in fact, that I do believe I will treat myself to dinner at Chen’s. Maybe there will be a handsome Saudi prince there waiting to whisk me away so I don’t have to worry about international customs laws and asthma inhalers stuffed with opium anymore. I can simply lounge all day in decadent luxury until my ass gets too fat and he sends me off to work in the kitchen with all of the other discarded wives. Ah, that’s the life for me.

Chen’s is busy, but I look pretty hot tonight and I am a semi-regular, so I don’t have to wait too long to get a table. They tuck me nicely into a corner, so as not to attract too many curious stares for being a woman eating out by herself, and I peruse the menu that I’ve already memorized a dozen times over. Out of nowhere someone is calling my name, loudly, and I get scared for just a second before I peek over my upraised menu and see that it’s just Joseph the American visitor. Jeez, I am supposed to be stalking them, not the other way around. He’s got a buzz on already and he thinks I should join him and his assistant at their table so we can continue our conversation from the hotel bar. I glance around nervously but this place is a little too chic for uptight jerkoffs like Xu. I politely accept Joseph’s invitation, mostly to get him to stop yelling at me from halfway across the restaurant and humiliating the woman he’s with. Her smile is tight and cautious when I sit next to her and begin to introduce myself, and I do believe I see her eyebrows rise just a bit when I tell her my name is Candy. Her name is Molly, according to Joseph she doesn’t say much and she’s only here because someone named Cleaver doesn’t trust him to get things done on his own, and from my brief interaction with Joseph I have deduced that she has the patience of a saint. Or a psychotic.

Indeed, Molly does not say much and the conversation is mostly one-sided as Joseph keeps rambling on about this guy Cleaver and what an asshole he is. From what I understand, this kind of assignment is way outside of Joseph’s job description, and it was thrust upon him at the last minute just because of Cleaver’s aforementioned assholishness. The bastard has been keeping Joseph down and making him look like a fool for years, but when he finds Brandt and brings him back safe and sound, old man Peterson will have to notice him then. I chew my wontons and wonder if Joseph always this intolerable, or only when he’s drinking. The bags under Molly’s eyes just might be the answer to that question. Finally, there is a lull in the conversation and I try to get a little more out of Molly, seeing how it is pretty obvious that she is the brains in this operation. She is hesitant at first, probably caught off guard by how much Joseph told me the other day, but she relaxes when I mention that I sort of knew Freidrich and I might be able to help since I know the city. She gives me a little more detail on what they’ve found so far, but it really doesn’t make much of a difference when added to what I already knew. I’m really curious about how General Xu is involved in all of this and if he saw me at the hotel bar, but I can’t think of an inconspicuous way to ask.

When the check comes Joseph insists on paying and I do not protest. Molly has loosened up enough to smile a little bit every once in a while, and she’s not a bad gal. I bet she’d be a blast with some tequila in her. Finally, I casually mention something about the military guy she came in with that day and she rolls her eyes. She tells me that the Secretary of the Interior has assigned him as their liaison in case they need any “assistance.” Though I can tell by her tone she knows as well as I that he’s just there to keep an eye on them. I’m still a little wary of being seen with these two, so I decline Joseph’s invitation to take the party somewhere else, as he so elegantly puts it, and I make my way back home. Although six hundred dollars isn’t exactly chump change, it definitely isn’t worth extra attention from the powers that be. I must admit though, there is something very odd about this whole situation. My gut tells me that things are bound to get very interesting before all is said and done. I know I won’t be able to resist keeping tabs on these two. My self-preservation instinct is severely damaged. It is really going to get me in trouble someday.

Bennie is waiting for me when I get home, hanging out by the front door looking exactly like a strung out, panicky, drug dealer is supposed to look. Moron. I invite him upstairs and we get to work wrapping up the opium bricks after I say a few words about learning how to keep a low profile. When we’re done, Bennie tries to make a move like he always does, and I shoot him down none too gently like I always do. He leaves with the shipment like a dog with its tail between its legs, and I can finally go to sleep after an exhausting day.

NaNoWriMo Day 2

2007-11-02T12:41:00.000-04:00

*To read the whole story start with "NaNoWriMo Day 1" and move backward from there (duh).

Total Word Count: 5,040

Before heading to Mr. Brandt’s former room to see what we could find, I decide we should have lunch at the hotel. Molly has a salad and I have the roast duck with spicy orange curry and a delicious lamb vindaloo. It’s all on the company dime, I figure might as well enjoy myself. I smile and remember the grim look in Cleaver’s eyes when he handed me over the corporate Amex card before I got on the plane, it was like he was giving me his first born. If I am expected to be wildly irresponsible with it, then who am I to disappoint?

We have a new limo driver when we pile in to make the trek across town to the condominiums where Brandt was staying. Thankfully, this guy seems calmer and a little more hip to the local traffic laws. I take in more of the nice parts of the city as we drive. Everything seems so orderly and efficient here, those hardline military regimes really know how to run things smoothly. Before too long we are through the gates of the quiet little condo community where Freidrich Brandt stayed and did his work.

The manager of the place is a little old Asian woman who mutters under her breath constantly at seemingly nothing in particular. She leads Molly and I up three floors to Brandt’s nondescript little unit. After opening the door and giving the place a slow once-over, the manager grunts and shuffles back to the office. It looks like Brandt had either just moved in or was just about to move out. There are boxes everywhere, some taped closed, some half full, some piled in the corner yet to be filled. There is a good deal of stuff around the place that wasn’t packed up at all, at least enough to go about one’s daily routine. Molly gives me a “where do we begin?” look, so I roll up my sleeves and start pawing through the closest box, prompting her to follow suit. After about fifteen minutes of randomly poking around in various boxes, Molly meekly asks exactly what it is we are looking for. I pause before I answered her because I hadn’t really thought of that myself. Journals maybe? Plane tickets? Big maps with push pins stuck in certain places and lines drawn on it? I’m an auditor, not a private investigator. Molly seems satisfied with my suggestions so we continue digging indiscriminately.

Molly breaks the silence again some time later with a small little “hmm.” I pick my way around boxes and clutter to see what she found. It is a book of traveler’s checks, and the register is nicely and neatly filled in. Good job, Molly. Most of the entries in the register are individual names, we will have to track all of those down somehow. The most interesting entry is the last, a sizeable payment to a company called R.J. Patel Customization and Removal. Sounds like an auto shop, but was Brandt customizing or removing? It seems like as good a place as any to start with after we finished combing the condo. Two more hours of searching proves mostly fruitless, save an address book that matches up some of the names in the check register, and a set of small keys that don’t fit into anything we could find around the place.

Molly wants to check in with home base before we go anywhere, so we head back to the hotel to use the landline. There is a weird anomaly in the city proper that pretty much renders cell phones useless. I take the opportunity to knock back a quick drink at the bar to focus my heretofore undeveloped detective skills. Molly is taking a bit longer than I expected, so one drink becomes three and I am nicely buzzed and ready to rock by the time she comes down from her room. The driver knows where this Patel place is, so we hop in our fancy ride and off we go once more.

R.J. Patel’s Customization and Removal is basically a glorified scrap heap on the outskirts of the industrial zone solely operated by a short bald Indian fellow with greasy overalls and cracked glasses. There are more chickens milling about than there are cars in the yard. Raj, that’s what the R. stands for, speaks decent English so we inquire as to the whereabouts of our missing colleague, Mr. Brandt. Raj squints his eyes into the afternoon sun for a few moments in concentration, then lights up with gleeful recollection. Ah yes, he remembers. Mr. Brandt paid him a good bit of money to haul away a nice new pickup truck from the parking lot of the condominium. I ask is the truck is still here but sadly, he sold it just last week to an American like us who said he was on his way into Russo-China and paid in cash. Well shit, so much for that lead. Nanodyne has a lot of clout, but no way were our company badges getting us into Russo-China. Not that yours truly would ever go there willingly, of course.

Disappointed with the exciting lead that turned out to be a big bust, we thank Raj and sit in the limo for a while, telling the driver to drive wherever until we figure out our next move. I want to check out some of these names in the address book but Molly warns me that it is nearly dinner time for most folks around here and to interrupt a meal is considered incredibly rude in these parts. I figure we might as well eat too and I ask the driver to take us someplace nice. He pulls a quick U and not two minutes later we are at a very promising looking restaurant that looks like a Mongolian steak house.

The smell of charred beef gets my stomach grumbling in anticipation as soon as we walk in the door. There are a lot of corporate types lined up along the near end of the communal counter, knocking back martinis with reckless abandon and cheering along with the chefs behind the counter as they do amazing things with fire and meat. I want to sit right next to the wild suits and join the party but Molly makes a beeline halfway across the restaurant, so I grudgingly follow. We take a seat by ourselves at the far end of the counter and a smiling chef greets us with a bow. Molly consults the menu briefly and starts to order another salad but I chide her probably a bit too loudly that we are in a steak house and it would be rude just to get a salad. Molly crumbles meekly and orders the teriyaki beef. Feeling invincible, I order the works. I want at least one of every type of beef they have stashed away in this place. The chef seems quite pleased with my order and he retires to the kitchen to gather up the veritable Noah’s Ark of meats that await the flames churning away in the grill before us.

Three beers, two shots, some fruity girl drink that was the result of my constant harassment of Molly to have one with me, and a whole hell of a lot of food, leave me drunk, full, and happy as a pig in shit. I am sad when it’s time to leave, but I promise our chef, who’s name I keep forgetting, that we will be sure to return before our trip is over. The limo driver gives me a smile and a wink when I approach the car singing happily, followed by mortified Molly. He knows I am a man who knows what I like and that is why he recommended this place to me. I thank him and agree that yes, I am a man who knows what he likes. Somehow it is ten-thirty at night and I am in no condition to conduct interviews with the locals so we call it a night, much to Molly’s visible relief.

As I’m fumbling to stick the key card into the slot on the door to my room, I look over at prim little Molly doing the same and suddenly feel bad that she doesn’t seem to be having as much fun on this trip as I am. So as not to sound like a drunken lout with ill intentions, I straighten my clothes, take a deep breath, clear my throat, and ask politely if she would like to watch some tv with me in my room. Because I catch her just as she is stepping into her room, she hovers there like she is stuck in a web between the room and the hallway. When she turns around, her eyes are horrified and her mouth keeps opening and closing because she can’t force anything to come out. I hold up my hand and promise, scout’s honor, that I will behave myself, and she quietly agrees and creeps across the hall toward my room, clutching her bag tightly to her chest.

Molly sits on the furthest armchair from the bed, upon which I am splayed comfortably. I ask if she wants anything from the mini bar and she surprises me by requesting red wine. I hop up and pour two glasses, hand one to her, and we clink a toast awkwardly. Molly starts drinking immediately, her eyes darting back to the television. I flip around the channels, it looks like they were able to nab an Iranian satellite feed, but the only thing in English is CNN. Before I can check the pay per view channels, there is a knock at the door that makes us both jump. When I open it, the Indian host from the lobby, who is apparently also the hotel manager, greets me with a brief smile before asking in hushed tones if he can come in. Molly stands when he enters the room and he pauses for a moment before apologizing for interrupting. I assure him that he most definitely isn’t interrupting a thing, to which Molly agrees vigorously. The manager pull me aside and in whispers informs me that some gentlemen from the military dropped by while we were out today and conducted a search of our rooms by authority of the government. I am more surprised than angry, but I am kind of glad that we hadn’t left the possessions we took from Brandt’s place in the room. Nothing seemed to be missing or out of place in my room, and Molly confirmed the same after checking hers, so I tell him it is no big deal. We expected a little suspicion from the get go, they were just making sure we weren’t here to cause any trouble. Struck by sudden curiosity, I ask the manager why he was willing to risk what I assumed to be severe punishment for telling us this. He casts his eyes to the floor and then back up into mine, and I know without his even saying a word exactly why he informed us about the search. I pull out my wallet, give him one hundred dollars U.S., and tell him there is another hundred in it if he sees anything else that might need to be brought to our attention. He thanks me profusely and backs through the door, bowing. I turn and wink at Molly, pretty confident that I am starting to get the hang of all of this. We settle back into our prior television watching situations and I assume Molly sneaks out as soon as I pass out on the bed snoring loudly.

A bloody mary begins to work on my mild hangover while Molly watches me wolf down a massive plate of steak and eggs with some evident disgust on her face. I forsake modesty for satiety and besides, her stuck up attitude is starting to wear on my nerves. Breakfast in the hotel restaurant isn’t crowded in the slightest, in fact the only people here besides us is an older Arabic man and what I assume to be his two wives flanking him on either side hidden inside their dark robes. The waiter brings the check when we finish and Molly signs the slip, thanking the man in Hindi.

First up on today’s agenda is a man named Quong who, according to the new limo driver for the day, lives distressingly close to the slums that we passed through when we first arrived. On the driver’s advice, which seems pretty damn sensible to me, we switch to a vehicle that is much less flashy than the long, black limo. So much less flashy, in fact, that Molly and I end up fairly crammed into the back seat of a beat up looking junker from god knows what country. The driver beeps and weaves his way through the increasing foot traffic while we roll ever closer to the slums. Mercifully, we arrive at Quong’s before we delve too far back into the throng of dirty humanity.

Quong lives in a partially dilapidated two-story shack along with his wife and four daughters. Four daughters in this part of the country is not a good thing to have, and I can see by the weariness on Quong’s face that he has lived that fact and lived it hard. The girls range in age from young teen to young adult, and they all excuse themselves quickly when we enter. Molly starts in with the Chinese immediately, and Quong replies in a bemused but cautious manner. Molly asks him about the payment in the check registry, and he nods and motions for us to follow him to the back of his hovel. We follow him and I try not to notice that there is a horrible smell that is only getting stronger the closer we get to wherever we are heading. We round the corner and bingo, there’s the smell. It seems the good Mr. Quong keeps an amateur crematorium in his backyard to dispose of any flu-infected fowl that crop up in the village, as well as anything else that someone is willing to pay to have destroyed. And of course, that is exactly why Mr. Brandt was here. Quong is quick to explain that he asks no questions, he only burns what he is given. Whatever it was that Brandt needed taken care of was wrapped in a sack and about as big as a large person, or possibly two people, and that’s all he knows. We thank him, well Molly thanks while I spit and cuss, and give him a couple of bucks for his trouble. Molly asks him to send for us if he happens to remember anything else and we roll out in our crappy car, once again disappointed and no closer to finding Brandt

NaNoWriMo, Day 1

2007-11-01T12:56:00.000-04:00

Word Count: 2,551

*Disclaimer - this is a very rough draft, as the challenge stresses quantity more than quality. Hence, expect some sloppiness.

Fever Dreams in the Corporate Suite

My watch says seven-thirty a.m. but god knows what time it is here. The temporary assistant Cleaver assigned to me as he hustled me into a towncar with a hastily packed suitcase and a bottle of malaria pills is named Molly. She somehow looks just as pressed, prim, and together as she did when we took off in a company jet some seventeen hours ago. I, on the other hand, can’t get the taste of cough syrup out of my mouth, can barely see straight, and I’m suspecting am the source of the ever increasing body odor smell slowly filling the small cabin. Molly looks at me expectantly, having just handed me an itinerary that might as well be in Japanese for all of the good it’s doing me in my present condition. I pretend to scan it and nod, head bobbing heavily. Looks good I say. Good job, Molly. I reach over to hand the packet back to her and I see her nose scrunch up just a little bit. Yep, the stink is coming from me all right.

The plane dips sharply into descent and my guts do a somersault that makes me hold my breath and clench my ass shut as hard as possible to prevent something really terrible from happening. A long flight in a claustrophobic little jet apparently fuzzes your decision making process up a bit when presented with prepackaged sandwiches from a cooler. Chicken salad seemed like a good idea three hours ago. Now, not so much. Molly looks at me apprehensively, as if she can sense the epic battle going on in my rumbling innards but is helpless to do anything about it but pray and try to stay clear of the damage area. I consider making a break for the bathroom and try to maintain some dignity through the awful trial that is soon to come but the captain turns on the fasten seat belts sign and I am well and truly screwed. C’mon big boy, I think to myself, you can get through this. Just tough it out until we are on the ground. A cold sweat starts dripping down my sides under my shirt and my knuckles are ghost-white around the armrests but I hang on just enough and we land safe and sound.

I can’t tell if it is dawn or dusk when we step down to the cracked tarmac but this is definitely the quietest airport I have ever been in. There isn’t another plane in sight. The place is military controlled, or at least whichever military is in vogue this week. I breathe a sigh of relief that my stomach seems to have settled down for now. Molly is already on her phone speaking quickly in Chinese? Arabic? Hindi? I’m too jetlagged to care and she seems to have things under control so I let her go about it and scan my surroundings. There are soldiers scattered about at various posts around the runway and that’s about it. Heavy black steel gates block my view of anything beyond the perimeter, it looks like they are pretty serious about keeping people out. Molly wraps up her conversation, picks up her sensible little travel bag, and motions for me to follow.

We walk across the airport to a makeshift customs office fronted by a steely-eyed higher up of some indiscriminate Asian descent planted behind a stainless steel counter. I assume he’s a higher up because of all of the decorations and fancy stripes on his chest, but I guess he could have gotten those anywhere in a place like this. Molly greets him and starts speaking rapidly in the same language as before but his gaze stays fixed on me, which is starting to make me a little edgy. Molly finishes and it sounded like she hung a question on the end, but Commander Grumpy just stands there. After too many excruciating seconds, he holds out a gloved hand and asks for my passport in harshly accented English. I nervously fumble through my jacket pockets, having forgotten which one I put it in just like I told myself not to. The third pocket offers success and I hand the passport over with a chuckle that is entirely too high-pitched. Constant, Joseph Constant is my name, uh, sir, I am here in your fine country representing the interests of Nanodyne Defense Systems, Incorporated, and its various affiliates throughout the world. It is an honor to be permitted inside your borders and I hope our time here will not be a burden to you in any way.

He studies my passport for a good long time before handing it back to me. He motions for our bags and we heft them up to the counter where he proceeds to search through each as thoroughly as humanly possible. I begin to wonder just who in the hell they sent to my condo to pack a bag for me as I look at the clothes being crumpled up on the counter. There is stuff in there that I haven’t worn in years, some of it I didn’t even know I still had. There is no doubt in my mind that it was Jenkins, that son of a bitch. Hardy har har, asshole, just wait until I get back. Apparently satisfied, General Spic N Span repacks the bags none too carefully and ushers us through an x-ray tube. I come through fine but all hell breaks loose when Molly steps in and suddenly we are at the wrong end of six screaming army guys with automatic rifles. If I could see myself, I would bet that I am white as a sheet, but for some reason Molly’s face has gone deep crimson. The man in charge keeps gesturing at her crotch and repeating the same command over and over while Molly frantically tries to explain something. With a head jerk, the commander orders two of the men to grab her and they drag poor Molly off to an unmarked room across the hallway. I stand there, still at gunpoint with my hands in the air, sweating profusely and wondering what the hell I was going to do without an interpreter. It is deathly quiet and tense until everyone starts in surprise when a bout of uproarious laughter bursts from behind the door of the closed room. Molly comes out moments later, still deep red and tears running down her face. She has lost a good deal of her former poise, and I’m confused as hell. Luckily, I’m not the only one who has no idea what’s going on, and one of the guards comes out of the room behind Molly in stitches and holds up something proudly. The other guards all start laughing as well as we all realize at the same time that he’s holding a tampon. Damn, those x-ray tubes are sensitive. Oh man, poor Molly. She’s staring at the floor and shaking a little, but I still have a gun pointed at my chest so I can’t really offer much in the way of sympathy. The commander barks out an order and the guards back down, clearing the way for us to leave. Just like that, Molly takes a deep breath, straightens her sensible skirt, and she’s back to her old self. I have to hand it to her, she’s a pro all the way. They lead us to the big gate, which starts to open with a slow groan as we approach. There is a limo waiting on the thin dirt road when we step out, the only thing visible in the immediate area. The seats are like leather heaven as I sit and melt immediately. Molly throws a few quick instructions at the driver and settles in across from me. As the limo starts its trip to wherever the hell we’re going, she keeps her gaze locked out of the tinted window. I want to ask if she’s ok, but it seems like it would be really awkward, so I just stare out of my own window. Before I know it the quiet rocking of the car makes my eyelids start to droop, and I fall helplessly into blessed unconsciousness right then and there.

I wake up in a completely different world and the shock of it is like a bucket of cold water to the face. I can’t even see where we are because there are too many bodies on the sides of the car beating on the windows for attention. I look over at Molly, who looks a little overwhelmed herself but still in control. There are children pressing their faces on the glass, teenagers throwing bizarre gang signs, and grown men trying to sell whatever they have on them. The car is surrounded by pure chaos, and I am understandably confused. I frantically ask Molly where the fuck we are but the name she spits back at me doesn’t help one little bit. It had too many syllables to remember in one try. The limo driver is screaming obscenities in a vulgar tongue and blaring the horn at the crush of humanity that seems intent on pushing us over but can’t decide which direction it wants us to go. Apparently tired of the game, our driver guns it and with a distressing bump or two that may have been the result of someone’s appendage rolling under the tire we break from the crowd into the narrow streets of the ugliest slum I have ever seen.

It’s like someone scooped up a little bit of every neighborhood in the eastern half of the world and dumped them all together in one place. In my hasty briefing, they showed me where we were going on a map, and I believe it was somewhere near what used to be the Indian and Chinese borders before the war. Now there doesn’t seem to be any separation between the two cultures at all, plus it looks like there is a good deal of the Middle East thrown in for good measure. One thing these folks all have in common is that they look like they are dirt poor, with an emphasis on the dirt. There is filth and grime caked everywhere, covering every surface. The streets are like a depressing petting zoo, I have already lost track of how many different types of emaciated animals I’ve seen staggering around.

Eventually, the concentration of shacks and tents thins and ceases and we drive through the industrial part of whatever city this is. The air is so thick with soot and smoke that you can’t see more than a block in either direction. Molly says something about main exports and manufacturing but I’m too busy watching some guys with gas masks loading leaky barrels of god knows what into the back of a truck to pay attention.

Pretty soon, we are clear of the dreariness and things start looking up dramatically. Paved roads, well-kept houses, functional business establishments, we finally arrive in civilization and I let out a breath that I hadn’t realize I’d been holding. The limo eases into the reception driveway of a very spiffy hotel and I relax for the first time since we touched down. Uniformed bellhops take our bags from the trunk with polite bows, the doorman greets us with a friendly nod, and a smiling Indian host welcomes us in English at the front desk. Finally, we are in the real world and I can get to work.

The bed is soft, softer than my bed at home, and I’m barely able to turn out the light before I am fast asleep. I dream but the images are hazy. The picture of the man I am here to find drifts over throngs of dirty children and bleating goats. A knock at the door wakes me with a start entirely too early, and just like that my day is off to a shitty start. I stagger to the door in a groggy haze, not yet fully recollected where I am and what I am doing there. Molly is standing in the hall waiting for me, already dressed and ready to go, uncomfortably trying not to notice that I am hanging out of my boxer shorts. She tells me that we have to meet the Secretary of the Interior in half and hour, and I curse a good deal and stagger into the shower. While trying to scrub the haze away I yell over the water that I would really appreciate it if she made some coffee, and I am terribly disappointed when I come out and discover that she didn’t hear me. She apologizes, a bit too sarcastically if you ask me, and assures me that we can get some on the way. She ties my tie with a sigh while I am tucking in my shirt and trying to step into a shoe at the same time. It seems Molly is quickly losing patience with me. I am whisked into the limo and we are on our way into the bustling downtown federal district, which evidently does not contain a single coffee shop.

The Secretary of the Interior is a round, pleasant fellow and he offers us tea. I accept for lack of anything better to get my brain working and we sit. Molly begins the corporate spiel about caring for developing countries and working hard to assist in the creation of a stable and beneficial government, but the good Secretary does not appear to be paying attention. When she finishes, he turns to me and asks what he can do for us, almost as if Molly wasn’t even here. Still not firing on all cylinders, I stammer for a bit before Molly slides a picture of our man across the table. His name is Freidrich Brandt, I explain, and he is a very valuable asset to our corporation. Mr. Brandt was working on a research project and was last seen in this area before the regime change of two weeks ago. If they would be so gracious, we humbly request that we be allowed to search for our missing compatriot with assistance from the local authorities.
The Secretary considers this for a long two minutes of silence, and then casually waves over a servant who hands him a gaudy old-timey gold telephone. The conversation with whomever he calls is brief, but it sounds good. He hangs up the handset with a smile and turns to me once again. He tells me that they would be honored to have me as their guest, I assume they meant Molly too, and that whatever we may need would be provided. He starts to rattle off the names of various contacts that can help us but lord knows I’m not writing it down, so I interrupt him and gently attempt to bring Molly back into the thick of things. The Secretary sighs and motions for one of his servants to assist Molly, and stands to leave. He insists that we meet for dinner before I leave the country, then shakes my hand warmly and leaves the room with a bow. Molly finishes gathering names from the servant and we leave, me feeling quite accomplished.

Project: Failure 2.0

2007-10-30T14:20:00.000-04:00

National Novel Writing Month is almost here and I have decided to once again enter myself into the herculean challenge of banging out a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Last time I tried was in 2004 and I ended up with an absolutely miserable 13,000 words or so, and a manuscript that was sinking faster than my self respect. This time I've decided to set myself up to fail on an even bigger stage, where my lack of work ethic can be viewed by more than those I foolishly bragged to about taking on the challenge last time. Now anyone who happens by the site while google searching for anal bleaching can watch the ongoing downward spiral because I will be posting what I write (or not posting what I managed not to write) each day.

To (most likely not even close to) victory!

lolrock

2007-10-26T15:44:00.000-04:00

Real posts (sort of) will start again soon, I promise. Until then, more crap!

Thanks again, roflbot.

lolwar

2007-10-12T12:01:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know I am going straight to hell. But hopefully I can get a few yuks along the way.

As always, many thanks to the handy dandy roflbot generator!

Cheer up, Trent Green

2007-10-09T15:40:00.001-04:00

Maybe it will be like in cartoons and that second massive blow to the head will make you remember how to play football again.

More lolmovies

2007-09-27T15:26:00.000-04:00

The meme keeps rolling on...

For simplicity's sake I used the roflbot generator. It's fun AND easy!

We will always cherish our Glory Hole

2007-09-20T15:10:00.000-04:00

All right now, let's settle down people. Jenkins, I see you there, take your seat. Students and faculty, as your principal, let me be the first you to welcome you back to the newly rebuilt George Washington High School! Yeah! Go Patriots! Very good, it's nice to see that none of you have lost your enthusiasm after these trying few months. As we look forward to a new school year, we also look back and remember those who were lost in that terrible underground gas main explosion. The lovely young girls of the flag squad, bedecked in their glorious Lady Patriots uniforms, the very picture of grace before they were so cruelly taken from us when flames ripped through the gymnasium during summer practice.
As you know, in honor of those brave young women, and due to recent budget cuts, the school board has elected not to rebuild over the crater where the gas burst from the earth and incinerated our dear friends. No, we have decided to keep the site as is, a monument to those who lost their lives. Yes, this site will be preserved and shall henceforth be known as our Glory Hole.
Stop that! You there, this is a serious moment! Stop that snickering at once. You may not think it's "cool" to be proud of your school, or "hip" to honor your deceased peers. But mark my words, young man, the George Washington High Glory Hole will be the envy of the state! People will come from miles just to see our Glory Hole and will take pleasure in its presence.
I want order in this auditorium or I will cancel this assembly immediately! What is the meaning of this ridiculous outburst? You disgrace the memory of those poor girls. Now, if you are all done fooling around, the marching band will be performing a new piece written by our bandleader, Mr. Fleece. Please enjoy "God Bless Our Glory Hole."
Silence! Why do you persist on interrupting? I am very disappointed in all of you! You bring shame to our Glory Hole! This assembly is over!

Herro?

2007-09-18T13:23:00.000-04:00

To anyone who cares, you may notice that new posts are going to come with less frequency from now on. Hopefully, future posts will be longer and of a better quality.

Boomshanka

-B

The Continuing Adventures of Scrumptious Jackson

2007-09-14T11:48:00.001-04:00

Scrumptious Jackson struggled against the ropes that bound her wrists and glared at the thugs standing before her. "You turkeys better let me outta here before I get really mad!" she hissed.
The head thug laughed heartily and slapped her hard across her beautiful chocolate-colored face. "What's a little black girl like you gonna do against the three of us?"
Scrumptious spit on the floor and dropped her voice to a grave whisper. "Oh you done did it now, cracker." With an amazing burst of strength she launched to her feet, ripping the back of the chair clean off. She planted a platformed heel directly into the head thug's testicles with enough force to drive them into his chest. With a whimpering groan, the thug dropped to the floor like a bag of dirt. Scrumptious agilely brought her bound hands under her feet and to her chest while the two remaining thugs fumbled for some sort of weapons. "Come on white boys," she crowed. "I know you aint scared of one little black girl!"
The first thug charged with a weak yell and Scrumptious quickly dropped him with a two-handed judo chop to the throat. The second thug hesitated, sizing her up. "I'll tell you what, sugar. You drop that pipe and haul yo' white ass outta here, and I might not have to send you back to yo' momma in a casket. You dig?"
The thug took a step toward her, stopped, then turned and pounded a hasty retreat. Scrumptious smirked and undid the rope that bound her hands. Just then, a video monitor crackled to life behind her with an image of a cruel-looking old man in a suit. "Well done, Ms. Jackson, I would not have expected any less."
Scrumptious turned and sneered at the monitor. "The Man. I shoulda known."
"Yes, it is I, your most tenacious tormentor."
"You aint gonna be tormenting much once I put my foot up yo' ass!"
The old man chuckled softly. "Ever the lady. I do believe your threats are meaningless, however, seeing as I have something in my possession that you hold very dear." The image pulled back to reveal Scrumptious's main man and nubian lover, Bid Daddy Smoove, with a gun to his head.
Scrumptious gasped. "You hurt a hair on his fine head and I'll be sticking more than my foot up yo' ass."
The Man chuckled once more. "You do have a way with words, my dear. The terms are simple, surrender yourself willingly to be my sex slave, and your man goes free."
Scrumptious shuddered and suppressed a gag. She knew The Man would kill Daddy Smoove without a second thought. She had no choice. "All right," she said quietly. "You can have me. Just let him go."
The Man cackled wildly. "Excellent! There should be a limo waiting for you outside. Scrumptious Jackson, you are finally mine!"

Will Scrumptious Jackson really accept the humiliating life of a slave to The Man to save her lover? Will The Man really live up to his end of the agreement? Find out next week on The Continuing Adventures of Scrumptious Jackson!"

Um, that's enough for today, Batman!

2007-09-11T13:44:00.000-04:00

Look, I really appreciated it when you beat up that guy who was trying to mug me. It was kind of nice the way you bought me a cup of coffee afterward to make sure I wasn't too freaked out about the whole thing. And I admit that it was somewhat helpful when you helped me carry in the groceries, walked Freckles for me, checked all of the doors and windows to make sure they were locked, took out the trash, brought the recycling bins up from the curb, and checked all of the doors and windows again.
But seriously man, enough is enough.
I'm flattered that you've taken such an interest in me, but I'm kind of seeing someone. I'm pretty sure I mentioned that a few times. Besides, I've got enough headaches without a brooding vigilante hanging around all day.
So if you could see your way out now, I'd really like that. Don't worry, I'll make sure the door is locked behind you.

Predictions for the 2007 NFL Season

2007-09-10T12:44:00.000-04:00

Eli Manning will win the coveted "Good Tryer" award for the third year in a row.

Undrafted free agent quarterback Ron Mexico will come out of nowhere and dazzle fans with his amazing footwork, but draw criticism for his lackluster passing game.

Ray Lewis will stab a bitch.

Brady Quinn will set a single season record for getting sacked, though by his own admission it will be because he really enjoys having a bunch of dudes on top of him.

Tom Brady will impregnate Randy Moss. The child will be named Jesus 2.

After a particularly vicious hit, Jaguars fans will be horrified to see that David Garrard is actually just six midgets in a bear costume.

Joey Harrington will be named league MVP. Of the ladies.

Desperate for attention, Terrell Owens will publicly announce that Tony Romo gave him scabies.

Rex Grossman will be selected by an advanced alien race for display in their intergalactic zoo as the perfect specimen of mankind.

Due to years of shoddy play and declining fan support, the entire NFC will be moved to China and renamed "The People's League of Athletic Competition."

Bored with trouncing mere mortals, Peyton Mannig will lead his Colts in an epic contest against the Football Gods themselves.

Gone Drinkin'

2007-09-04T14:01:00.000-04:00

I'm taking a week or so off from posting to recharge the ol' batteries. And no, this doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I just bought an Xbox 360. Not really.

Missed Connections

2007-08-31T12:41:00.000-04:00

To the prettiest girl at the Renaissance Fair -

You: A heavenly brunette, clad in the whimsical dress of a woodland fairy
Me: A great big teddy bear, clad in cardboard black armor

You smiled sweetly as I entered your fragrant shop to cool off from the midday's hot sun. When I remarked that I treated my codpiece with polyurethane to prevent discoloration from sweat stains, your laugh was light and harmonious. Sadly, before I could work up the courage to ask your name, a coworker lured you from the shop floor with the promise of a quick joint out back. Were I able to gaze upon your beauty once more and profess that I fell madly in love in those short moments, I could die a happy man. If you felt the same spark of love that transcends space, time, and personal hygiene, I can be found weekdays at the Baby Gap on 5th Street, from 4-9pm.

To the one with the tits -

You: Tits
Me: One jack and coke away from a coma

Dave and Buster's, Friday night, ten-ish. I stumbled into your table trying to make my way to the bathroom to puke. I may have puked on the person next to you. Someone kicked me in the balls. I liked your rack. Let's meet up, same time next week, same place.

To the strapping young Starbucks Barista Downtown -

You: The twink of my dreams
Me: Your assistant manager

You know how I feel about you, Travis. Let's make it happen. I want you to steam my milk and foam my latte. I don't think I have to mention that there are certain perks to being the assistant manager's boy toy. It's not harassment if we aren't at work. See you on the closing shift.

If I can't have relations with this otter, no one will!

2007-08-30T11:35:00.000-04:00

Stay back! I'm warning you I'll do it! I'll slit her pretty little throat before you take two steps!
Dang you lousy, unscrupulous jackals! Have you no respect for the path of true love? The bond between a man, his willie, and this here otter is sacred and should be honored as such!
Let he who is without lust in his heart cast the first stone! Who among you haven't seen this cute little darling shaking her tail about and not wanted a little piece of that action? I defy you to resist this furry strumpet when she sets her sights and starts the classic dance of seduction.
Now leave us be, or there's gonna be hell to pay! I'm just gonna duck back behind the shed here and do my thing. The rest of you don't come any closer. And if anyone else wants a turn, I'll be about ten minutes

Republican Gay Sex

2007-08-29T11:12:00.000-04:00

*sung to the tune of "Teddy Bear Picnic"

If you go in the bathroom today
You're sure of a big surprise
If you go in the bathroom today
You'd better go in disguise
For every senator ever there was
Will gather there for certain because
Today's the day republicans have their gay sex
Any friend of the G.O.P.
Is sure of a treat today
There's lots of marvelous cocks to suck
And wonderful boys to lay
Inside the stalls where nobody sees
They suck and fuck as long as they please
Cause that's the way republicans have their gay sex
If you go in the bathroom today
You'd better know the code
It's lovely in the bathroom today
Be ready to take a load
For every senator ever there was
Will gather there for certain because
Today's the day republicans have their gay sex

Captain Cupcake and the Yum Yum Brigade vs. The League of Evil Veggies

2007-08-28T12:15:00.000-04:00

Captain Cupcake held his best friend in his arms and tried to comfort the dying man. "Don't worry, old pal. You're gonna make it."
Chancellor Sprinkles coughed wetly and shook his head with a smile. "You and I both know that's a lie. Just promise me one thing, Jack. I want you to give that Lord Asparagus a knuckle sandwich the likes of which he'll never forget!"
"You got it, buddy, you got it."
Captain Cupcake stood and surveyed his remaining Yum Yum Brigade fighters. "We've let this League of Evil Veggies keep us down for long enough! They've killed our friends. Raped our wives. Enslaved our children! Well I say it's time to put a stop to all that!"
A low murmur of excitement began to build through the rag tag group of mercenaries. "I say we march right in there, guns blazing, and give those bastards what for! Who's with me?"
The Yum Yum Brigade responded with a rousing cheer. "We're all with you, Cap!" said Cherry Cordial with a pump of her shotgun. "Let's send them all to hell!"
"And if we don't send them to hell," replied Captain Cupcake gravely, "then we can at least take them with us!" He held up the small nuclear device for all to see. The group nodded in understanding, this was most likely going to be a suicide mission.
Chief Sour Apple shuffled to the back nervously. He had betrayed his fellow sweets by agreeing to be Lord Asparagus' mole, and now he had no idea how he was going to be able to warn the dark Lord before the Yum Yum Brigade stormed the Fortress of Salad with a nuclear bomb.
"Soldiers, mount up!" bellowed Captain Cupcake. "We've got some unfinished business to attend to!"

Will the Yum Yum Brigade be able to defeat the League of Evil Veggies without obliterating themselves in the process? Find out next week in the thrilling next chapter of Captain Cupcake and the Yum Yum Brigade!

Unsuccessful Marketing Slogans

2007-08-24T12:06:00.000-04:00

Throat Cancer - Catch It!

Nobody does it like Sammy Hitler.

A gentleman never forgets the lube.

Serving Whitey for over 30 years.

Put your trust and the souls of your children in our hands.

You could do better, but why bother trying?

We're here, we're queer, we make great pie.

Like a good neighbor, we've seen you naked.

Kid, I wouldn't eat you if I was starving to death and you were covered in barbeque sauce.

2007-08-23T12:41:00.000-04:00

You can relax now, junior, I'm not here to eat you. I just gobbled up little Timmy Bradford down the street and that little porker is like a five course meal. Chunky bastard gave me indigestion.
You, on the other hand, are quite safe from me. When's the last time you took a bath? Just the thought of you anywhere near my mouth makes me want to gag. And that psoriasis, what are you kidding me? Eating you would be like choking down a clump of raw instant potato flakes.
Nah, I'm here to check in on that fine ass mother of yours. Is she still dating that loser Steve? I've spent more than a few nights under that bed and I can tell you, Steve better learn some new tricks fast. If the way she used to carry on back when Pedro would sneak in here to give her the business before your dad came home is any indication, Steve isn't even close to revving up that motor.
But you don't want to hear all that about your mom. Take it from me though, that is one piece of grade A meat right there. Oh relax, I didn't mean it that way.
All right kid, I've got to get rolling after a quick peek into your mother's room. I heard the Johnsons across the street had quintuplets and I want to get a good look at that little sampler platter.
Stay gross little man, it's the only thing keeping your heiney from being an appetizer.

Food Court of Sorrow

2007-08-22T11:47:00.000-04:00

They do not see the pain
As I sit here alone, finishing my fifth slice of pepperoni and sausage from S'Barros, I mourn for them at the same time as I hate them
Only I can understand the divine suffering
Only I know what it is like to truly hurt
My lunch break is almost at an end
Mr. Dicicco says if I am late again I will be sent home without pay
But I have not had my Cinnabon
My only small pleasure in this miserable world
If I am sent home so be it
The Cinnabon will soothe me
The Cinnabon will tell me that everything is ok
The Cinnabon understands me in the way no human could
They do not see the pain

Corporate Piggy Goes to Africa, Chapter 3 - Unexpected Friendships

2007-08-21T12:29:00.000-04:00

"You see," explained Constable Zebra, "All of the animals here work together and help each other out when needed. For example, Mrs. Hippopotamus over there is bringing water for Mr. Emu's lovely rose garden. And Goodlady Giraffe is providing shade for Ms. Newt's new hatchlings."
Corporate Piggy squealed in appreciation. "This is much different than the way things are back home! In the corporate world, it's every pig for himself!"
"Perhaps your corporate world could learn a few things from the wild."
"You betcha," Corporate Piggy agreed. "I'm going email my secretary to organize a team building exercise during the next fiscal quarter. I want this experience to be a part of every employee's core statement of values!"
Sixteen months later, following a brief delay caused by three rejected mergers, a massive round of layoffs, and a hostile takeover attempt, Corporate Piggy stood with his awestruck employees and marveled at their fellow animal's tranquil village.
"But where are their cell phones?" wondered Vice President Kitty Cat. "How do they communicate?"
"They talk to each other face to face! Just like in the old days!" explained Corporate Piggy excitedly.
Associate Iguana sneered. "How quaint. I suppose next you'll be telling us that they still connect to the internet through dial-up."
"That's just it," said Corporate Piggy. "They don't even know what the internet is!"
The employees gasped in horror. Parakeet the Intern fainted to the ground. Corporate Piggy took a deep breath and tried to calm the group down. "I know it's hard to understand, but things are much more relaxed and positive here than they are back home. We could all stand to learn a thing or two from our wild friends."
Associate Iguana cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of the crowd. "Or maybe our CEO has finally succumbed to the pressures of the business world. I propose an immediate vote of confidence from the board!"
A great fuss began as the members of the board scrambled to assemble and organize an official vote outside of the amenities of a boardroom. Secretary Frog called for quiet. "Members of the board, your attention please. We have assembled this emergency meeting to vote on our continued confidence in the leadership of our current CEO, Corporate Piggy! All in favor of dismissing the CEO, prepare to cast your votes!"

Will Corporate Piggy's employees vote him right out of a job? Will they come to their senses and learn the pleasures of a more hassle-free lifestyle? Find out next week on Corporate Piggy Goes to Africa, Chapter 4 - Unseen Enemies!

Scary Stories from Fat Camp

2007-08-20T11:33:00.000-04:00

The Curse of the Low-Carb Pizza Bagel

The Terrible Dr. Atkins and His Monster

It Came From the Garden

The Day There Was No Ranch Dressing

The Pool That Doesn't Allow T-Shirts

McDonald's is Missing!

The Bus Stop From Two Blocks Away

The Dreaded Gym Class Showers

Dr. Debra Smith-Barringer, Nutritionist of Doom

My wife sure does love her new anal bleaching!

2007-08-17T12:15:00.000-04:00

Thanks for having us out on the boat, Jim, it's lovely out on the water this time of year. Nothing like spending some time with good friends. Did I tell you how much Darla likes her new anal bleaching? She just got it done last week at Mitzi's downtown. Yep, there's nothing like a nice clean butthole to really put the spice back into a marriage.
Darla honey? Come on over here. Why don't you bend over and show Jim? There ya go, what do you think, buddy? Isn't that just the nicest little pink starfish you've ever seen?
How is Helen's anus looking these days? A little used maybe? I'm telling you, nothing will perk up her confidence like a nice trip to the bleaching chair. And that confidence will pay off on you in spades, believe you me! Maybe you could surprise her with a gift certificate.
Oh hi Helen! I was just telling Jim about Darla's anus. C'mon honey, drop trou again and show Helen. Nice huh? She could be in adult films! Tell Helen how quick and easy it was, honey.
What a beautiful afternoon. Good friends, good times, and a spotless cornhole. I can't think of anything better.

I can find at least three things that I like about you.

2007-08-16T11:52:00.000-04:00

That's right, baby, I am an observant, sensitive man who knows that there is something beautiful about every woman; and usually at least three things that I like in particular. Don't believe me? I've seen the way you shy away from attention because you are self-conscious about those third degree burns on your face and neck. But you know what those burns tell me? That you have lived an exciting life, baby, and excitement is sexy!
Need another one? How about the way you always hide your hands because you can't stop biting your fingernails until they are bloody and horrible looking? Those nails wouldn't get so gruesome if you didn't have a nice strong set of choppers. I bet you could bite through a human thumb. And that turns me on.
I promised three things, right? It's no problem at all with an attractive little number like you. I could point out how close to matching length your legs are, or how that big soft caboose of yours could probably suffocate a grown man like SIDS does a baby, but neither of those compare to how hot that colostomy bag gets me. Whenever I hear that delicate rustle of medical plastic under a woman's top, I just go crazy. You poop in a bag, mama, and that gets my motor running in a real big way.
You see, I can always find something to like about a member of the fairer sex. Why don't you come on back to my trailer tonight? I'll make you wish that scoliosis brace was made for bull riding. Aww yeah.

Unsuccessful Secret Agents

2007-08-15T13:23:00.000-04:00

Chase Ticklebottom

Remington Tin

Rocco "Anxiety Disorder" Bignatti

Brick Anklebiter

Cuddles Mankiller

John Smithowiczeringtonowski

Marcus Dumbass

Madaline Toxicrotch

Cross-Eyed Mahoney Jones

Teats McJiggles

Erotic SlashFic Story Time: Forbidden Fruit

2007-08-14T12:12:00.000-04:00

Captain Planet involuntarily tensed and breathed a deep sigh as Big Bird ran his beak along the exposed flesh of his back. "You've been fighting polluters all day," the yellow stud whispered. "Maybe it's time you let someone else take control."
"I must be vigilant in protecting Gaia," the blue hero replied with closed eyes. "I can't let my guard down, even for a second."
"Relax, you're in Big Bird's hands now."
The two secret lovers embraced, bodies entwined before the harsh shadows cast by the roaring campfire. The forest outside of their little cave was quiet and still, but the force of their passion masked the sound of the approaching visitor.
"You feathered whore!" shrieked the cloaked figure.
"Starbuck!" Big Bird yelped in shock. "I thought you were still stationed on Galactica?"
"I followed you in the Stealth Viper. I just knew you wouldn't be able to keep your beak out of his shorts!"
Big Bird sobbed with shame. "I'm so sorry. I love you with all my heart, Cara." He turned his gaze to Captain Planet, who looked hurt. "But I love him too. Oh why can't the heart ever be happy?!?"
Starbuck's demeanor softened, and she moved to comfort the crying bird. Without warning, a booming voice interrupted the tender scene. "We have no time for your piddling affairs!" It was Teddy Roosevelt, back from space in the mech suit that Alexander Graham Bell designed to combat the Silfresian Horde invasion that nearly destroyed the solar system. "I have need for volunteers to fight a new threat. As Earth's greatest heroes, I call on you all to stand up and fight!"
"Yes Sir!" Captain Planet exclaimed enthusiastically. "What's the problem?"
Teddy grew suddenly grave. "I'm afraid it's the worst crisis mankind has ever faced...."

What is the epic danger that has Teddy worried so? Will our heroes save the day once more? Will Big Bird and Captain Planet ever be able to enjoy their love without admonishment? Find out next week on: Erotic SlashFic Story Time!

From the Realtors who brought you a Yellow Submarine...

2007-08-13T12:15:00.000-04:00

Here at Langwell, Simon, and Digman Realtors, we have many attractive and budget friendly domiciles for families large and small. Join us on a tour of the many, many lovely properties just waiting for the right buyer.
This beautiful Indigo Winnebago is a perfect starter home for the family that doesn't like to be tied down. Or, if you prefer a little more space and a view that can't be beat, this Maroon Blimp may be just what you're looking for. Over here is a very popular model, the Pink Cadillac is an all-time classic that never goes out of style.
We know there are plenty of other realtors out there who claim to have the best colorful vehicle-based homes, but can you really trust someone who would see your loved ones crammed into a Brown Rickshaw? Or embarrassed to live in a Polka-Dotted Tractor?
LSD Realtors is a name you can trust. We strive to make sure every sale is the perfect sale for each of our valued customers. Come visit us today, and soon you might just be saying "We all live in a Purple Fighter Jet, a Purple Fighter Jet, a Purple Fighter Jet."

Movie Review - Rush Hour 3

2007-08-10T13:52:00.000-04:00

by Tyler Pendleton, Age 8

For his every-other-weekend visit, Daddy took me to see Rush Hour 3 today. It was way funnier than the other two, because there was lots more bad words and hitting. Daddy let me watch the other movies on his big tv before, and there were no bad words! Bad words always make a movie funnier.
In Rush Hour 3, the brown man and the Chinese man from the other movies team up again after the brown man gets in trouble with the mean police chief. The chief sends the brown man to France for punishment where he meets up with the Chinese man, who is after some bad guys that came there from China. My sister cried when the bad guys were on the screen, but she stopped when daddy said he was going to make her wait in the car. My daddy doesn't like my sister very much, because she always wants to tag along when he picks me up even though he isn't her daddy.
The brown man does some funny things, like fighting a big giant Chinese man in orange pajamas, and saying bad words. The Chinese man does lots of flips and kicks people, and sometimes tries to say things but everyone laughs because they can't understand him.
Rush Hour 3 was way funnier than Shrek 3, because it had more bad words. Even daddy laughed a little bit after he added the magic potion from the bottle in his pocket to his soda cup. If you like bad words and people getting kicked a lot, Rush Hour 3 is the perfect movie for you!

Continuing Your Children's Interest in Witchcraft

2007-08-09T12:48:00.000-04:00

Now that Harry Potter and his friends have had their last grand adventure, it's time to look for new ways to keep your children in the service of our Dark Lord Satan. The following books will help keep their interest in the dark arts alive and well:

Baby's First Virgin Sacrifice

The Pop-Up Necronomicon

Are You My Succubus?

The Hungry Little Demon

Amelia Bedilia Returns from the Grave

Let's Put a Hex on Daddy!

Frog and Toad are Warlocks

Hilites for Children Presents: Reading Spot's Entrails

There are many other children's books focused on the untold powers of witchcraft. Don't hesitate to bring your kids to the nearest occult library and get them started on offending God!

The Junior Crime Solvers Club - The Case of the Scorned Mistress

2007-08-08T10:48:00.000-04:00

"You see how the machete wounds are so deep in the neck that it nearly severed her head?" Billy asked.
"I guess so," replied Fatty nervously.
"And how her vagina is split all the way up to her sternum?"
" But what does that mean?"
"Duuuh," sneered Janey, popping her gum. "It's obvious that the killer was very angry with her about something. That's why there was such brutality in the murder."
"That's right, Janey," agreed Billy. "Whoever our killer is must have been very close to Ms. Jennings. Chinky, how did the DNA test on the discarded condom we found turn out?"
"Inconcrusive." Chinky reported.
"We've got to wrap this one up soon guys," Fatty said. "I've got to be home for dinner by six."
Just then, Billy saw a major clue that they somehow all missed when they examined Ms. Jennings' mangled corpse. "Fatty," Billy said confidently, "I have a feeling that you'll be home for dinner even earlier than usual this time!"
Twenty minutes later, the gang of young detectives had everyone in town gathered around the bloody crime scene. "All right kids, now what's this all about?" asked Police Chief Taggart.
"We have solved the case of the scorned mistress!" Janey announced.
"Oh have you now?" Chief Taggart chuckled. "And just what have you come up with?"
Billy addressed the assembled townsfolk gravely. "The murderer of Ms. Jennings is......Chief Taggart!"
The crowd let out a great gasp. Police Chief Taggart turned bright red and began to stammer. "That's ridiculous!" he thundered. "What is your proof?"
Billy held up a small plastic bag that everyone strained to see. "Well Chief, you almost got away with the perfect crime, but you forgot one tiny little detail..."

What was the smoking gun that lead to Chief Taggart? Will the Junior Crime Solvers Club pursue the death penalty? Find out next week!

That's COUNT Chocula, thank you very much.

2007-08-07T12:23:00.000-04:00

I beg your pardon young lady, but I did not honor my king and country through tireless and loyal service to be called Mister Chocula. If Duke Frankenberry were alive to hear this outrageous offense he would surely have you locked in the stocks for a minimum of three days while ravenous vermin penetrated your various orifices in search for sustenance. You have a lot to learn about respecting your betters, vile trollop, though I do fear that your ignorance will be the end of you before you are able to master even the simplest of our society's considerations of hierarchy.

Heed my warning, my dear, for I issue it with the gravest of sincerity. Had you made such a blunder with a less patient man, you may have found yourself on the wrong end of a cold rapier. Take this lesson and carry it with you always, lest your stupidity be your death.

Now, I would like to deposit my social security check and I will need a roll of quarters for the laundry machine. Thank you.

Excuse me, but I believe you have my kidney.

2007-08-06T11:24:00.000-04:00

Please do not think that I am accusing you of anything, far from it actually. You see, I happened to notice that your name disappeared from the national list of those in need of a kidney right around the same time that my own kidney was taken from me without my permission. I can see that you are a bit confused, perhaps if I explained what happened you might understand my predicament.

I arrived here in this fair city as many others have, a bright-eyed lad looking to make it big and do my small town back west proud. So naive was I that I neglected to heed the many warnings about wandering the streets alone after dark. It has always been a favorite hobby of mine to take a nice long stroll on nights when the moon is big and bright. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong night and the wrong alley for my last constitutional and I ran afoul of a gang of Oriental fellows who had less than desirable plans for yours truly.

The miscreants clobbered me over the head with some sort of blunt instrument, and I succumbed to the inky blackness of unconsciousness. When I awoke what must have been quite a number of hours later, I found myself rather curiously laying in a bath tub full of ice. As you can imagine, that was certainly not the most comfortable place to come to. I noticed a terrible pain just around my back, and made my way to the cracked mirror in the grimey bathroom that I didn't recognize. It was then that I saw the jagged scar that my attackers carved into my flesh when they made away with my precious kidney. In their haste, they stapled me back together in a most gruesome fashion.

As you can imagine, the ordeal left me quite shaken. The police were, unsurprisingly, no help at all. I mourned my loss and chalked the whole thing up to the evils of the big city, when I happened upon an inspirational poster that rekindled my sense of pride and justice. I began to search the lists, so many names of those in need. Finally, I managed to track down the most likely recipient of my ill-gotten kidney, and that, dear fellow, is you.

By no means do I demand that you march to the hospital this very instant and have them remove my kidney from your body and place it back into mine, but I hope that you will consider, after hearing all that I have been through, returning what is rightfully mine within a reasonable amount of time? You are skeptical, I can understand that. Perhaps if I show you the scar. See? Isn't it horrible? You must be able to understand the great amount of grief and anguish that I have suffered.

It is humbly that I implore you, sir, to try to find it within your heart to give up my kidney and wait for the next one to come along. Please, don't walk away, you can still do the right thing! Sir! Sir! I beg of you to reconsider! Don't go! Sir!

Alas, it seems that I am destined to a life of having to pee every 20 minutes.

Lesser Known Cowboys

2007-08-03T12:32:00.000-04:00

Docile Bill Hickory

Johnny One Finger

Tony the Young Adult

Stan the Adequate Shot

Mild Disruption Jenny

Injun Schlomo Finklestein

Antelope Bob

The Funkytown Kid

Random Sentence from a Work in Progress...

2007-08-02T13:15:00.000-04:00

Jak’s Pub and Grub was the kind of middle of nowhere place where you could get a hand job from something that looked like a walking feather duster and a shot of alien liquor that will make you legally retarded for an hour and still have a few credits left over at the end of the night.

Tales of Terrifyingness! "Grandma Always Rings Twice"

2007-08-01T12:19:00.000-04:00

Tom grabbed his wife roughly by the arm and gave her a healthy shake. "Enough with this foolishness Susan, your mother has been dead for three years!"
"I know," Susan sobbed, "But I swear I saw her last night sitting right there in her favorite chair!"
"This is the last I want to hear of this. Now get in the kitchen, dinner should have been ready a half hour ago!" Tom stormed off to his study while Susan shakily moved to prepare dinner.
Later that night, after Tom was sound asleep, Susan crept down the stairs of their modest but appealing three bedroom home. She just had to make sure that she wasn't dreaming the night before. She approached the comfortable easy chair that her mother always loved so much and breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty. "Maybe I am going crazy," she thought to herself. "I better see Dr. Reynolds for more pills." Just as she turned to head back upstairs to bed, a raspy voice called to her from the kitchen. "Susan, honey, is that you? Could you be a dear and help me with this pickle jar?"
Susan shrieked and fainted to the ground. She awoke a few minutes later to Tom's vigorous shaking. "Wake up Susan! Wake up! What in God's name are you doing down here?"
"I saw her!" Susan shrieked hysterically, "My mother was in the kitchen trying to get a pickle!"
Tom slapped her hard across the face, just to calm her down. "I've had it up to here your ridiculous fantasies. First thing tomorrow, I'm taking you to the Shady Acres Mental Health facility to get you checked out!"
Susan protested, but she knew her husband would know the right thing to do. It was impossible for her mother to be in the kitchen, she remembered the funeral vividly. Susan simply must be imaging that she was back to cope with the fact that she still missed her. It couldn't be a ghost, could it?

Will Susan find out that she's losing her mind? Has her dear sweet mother really returned from the grave? Find out next week on Tales of Terrifyingness!

Not So Well Known Alter-Egos of David Bowie

2007-07-31T14:08:00.000-04:00

Norman Finklestein and the Lads from Accounting

Captain Oceanspray and the Lobsters from Atlantis

Johnny American and the Gang from the Yogurt Shoppe

Mrs. Kensington and the Girls from the Book Club

Mars Spiderman and the Ziggies from Stardust

Kenneth Dracula and the Spooks from Spookytown

If Texas was a little more meek...

2007-07-30T16:13:00.000-04:00

Excuse me, but would you mind leaving Texas out of this?

Texas doesn't appreciate that, mister.

Gosh darn it, Texas wishes you would just cut the malarkey!

Okay, okay, Texas says uncle!

Please don't make a mess in Texas. Thank you.

Movie Review - Skin Walkers

2007-07-27T12:46:00.000-04:00

by Ester Jenkins-Mulrooney-Smith

After seeing all the commercials on the television for this movie I was about to review, I worried that it was going to be nothing but blood and guts and naughty language. Imagine my surprise when I took my usual seat in the front row of the local movie house and was treated to a wonderful story about understanding and accepting your fellow man.

Skin Walkers is a story about a group of fun-loving colored fellows who try to join an elite country club to play a little golf and relax. Unfortunately, the snobby white owner of the country club immediately figures the boys for riff-raff and refuses to let them join. A plucky young assistant to the mean old owner finds an overlooked rule in the country club charter that allows for anyone who was denied membership to appeal the denial by winning 18 holes of golf. Despite the owner's protests, a tournament is underway in no time.

Although they aren't the best golfers in town, the group of playful friends manage to stay competitive through the use of wacky hijinks and good clean fun. It all comes down to the last hole, and I won't spoil the ending for you, but let's just say that the club might just be getting a new hip-hop attitude in the near future.

I highly recommend this film to anyone who loves to laugh, no matter what the age. There was one particular flatulence joke that I found to be in somewhat bad taste, but my grandson Jodie found it to be absolutely hysterical.

Be sure not to miss Skin Walkers at a theater near you. It might just teach you a thing or two about not judging your fellow man by the color of his skin, or the size of his pants.

The Greatest Video Ever

2007-07-26T12:06:00.000-04:00

I am waiting for a new bed today so I will simply post this slice of heaven:

I wonder if this scared Indian kids as much as Thriller scared American kids? It probably did, but in a completely different way.

Lance Fisticuffs, Nazi Puncher

2007-07-25T11:43:00.000-04:00

"So tell me Colonel Robohitler, how do you like your knuckle sandwich? With or without mayo?"
Lance smiled as the evil cyborg colonel glared at him in confusion. He readied his favorite punching hand for a knockout blow. "Lance, wait!" Johnny Haymaker, Lance's trusted friend and sidekick, burst onto the terrace before he could strike. "That isn't the real Colonel Robohitler! It's a duplicate triggered to explode when punched!"
"A duplicate huh?" Lance studied the hated Nazi carefully. "They did an excellent job, I must say." He grabbed the imposter colonel by the lapel and hoisted him easily into the air. "Let's see how well Nazi clones can fly!" Lance hurled the shrieking cyborg over the wall of the castle, and watched it fall to the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below. True to Johnny's word, the duplicate exploded with a massive fireball upon impact.
"Good work, Johnny. An explosion like that might have damaged my good punching hand." Johnny's reply was drowned out by the sudden roar of an approaching helicopter. The real Colonel Robohitler leaned out of the machine with a megaphone. "I see you managed to avoid my little trap, Fisticuffs. That was merely a distraction, it kept you busy just long enough for me to steal the world's only functional organic disruptor ray!"
"Organic disruptor ray?" said Johnny, "What in the love of America is that?"
Colonel Robohitler cackled wildly. "Allow me to demonstrate!"
A strange blue ray shot from the helicopter and enveloped Lance Fisticuffs. "My...my hands!" he cried. "Aaaaaargh!" Johnny watched in horror as Lance's manly hands shrank to a third of their normal size.
"Let's see your mighty punch now!" Colonel Robohitler gloated. "Now my army has nothing to fear from you! We will conquer the world!" With that, the helicopter took off into the night, leaving a shocked Lance Fisticuffs reeling over the loss of his punching power.
"What will I do?" he asked miserably. "Without my punch I am nothing!"
"Don't worry Lance," Johnny replied bravely. "We'll get your punch back. It's a promise!"

Will Lance get his hands back to normal in time to stop the evil Colonel Robohitler? Find out next week on Lance Fisticuffs, Nazi Puncher!

lolmovies

2007-07-24T11:14:00.000-04:00

Because the meme refuses to die...

Illegal Hobbies of the NFL

2007-07-23T12:05:00.000-04:00

In light of the recent dog fighting scandal surrounding Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell ordered a league-wide investigation into any other illegal hobbies or sports that players may be involved in. Here are the shocking secret activities of some of the NFL's brightest stars that the investigation uncovered:

Brian Urlacher - Chicago - Grizzly Bear Tea-Bagging

Jeff Garcia - San Francisco/Cleveland/Detroit/Philadelphia/Tampa Bay - Taiwanese Glory Holing

Daunte Culpepper - Minnesota/Miami/? - Monkey Fencing

Ray Lewis - Baltimore - Hobo Stabbing

Brett Favre - Atlanta/Green Bay - Kitten Tossing

Chad Johnson - Cincinatti - White Girl Rustling

Joey Porter - Pittsburgh/Miami - Little Baby Duckling Skeet Shooting

More heinous activities are sure to be uncovered as this investigation continues. Check back for continuing updates to this outrageous story.

Know Your Cylons!

2007-07-20T12:04:00.000-04:00

The danger of extinction grows by the day. It could be your priest, your mailman, even your youngest son, Timmy. Everyone knows that the Cylons walk among us now, but knowing how to spot them is the important difference between annihilation and salvation. The following are some basic tips on identifying these robots in disguise.

1. Physical Perfection: Ladies, have you ever wondered how your neighbor can eat all that pasta and cake at the neighborhood block party and still fit into that size zero dress? Well now you know the answer - she's one of the robot menace!

2. Body Odor: Though the Cylons are capable of sweating, they have yet to master the intricacies of body odor. Does your racquetball partner smell unusually fresh after a long, grueling match? Chances are he is one of them.

3. Trivia Skills: Because they are machines, Cylons store data just as a computer would, able to recall any fact in an instant. Due to their arrogant nature, Cylons are sometimes unable to resist the lure of trivia night at the local bar. If you spot someone dominating everyone else in the game but going light on the buffalo wings, it is your civic duty to report them.

4. Bathroom Habits: In the men's room, is there one guy who never seems to use the urinal? A man who will wait for a stall if they are all full even if there is an open spot on the wall? Cylon males are unable to maintain gyroscopic balance while urinating in a standing position. If you see that guy who always goes for the stall, his mother either raised him poorly or he is a Cylon.

5. Artistic Taste: One of the easiest ways to spot a machine is to excitedly gush about the current Larry the Cable Guy/Adam Sandler/Jim Carrey/Pussycat Dolls/Fergie/American Idol/Jim Belushi project. A roll of the eyes is an instant guilty verdict!

New methods of identifying Cylons are discovered every day. As a member of the last remains of humankind, it is your responsibility to be vigilant at all times. Cylon notification centers are located at your convenience at all major thoroughfares. You may also dial 1-800-IR-CYLON to report any suspicious activity.

I cannot hide it any longer, I am a closet kite enthusiast.

2007-07-19T11:48:00.000-04:00

I know this comes as a shock to you honey, and I can totally understand if you need some time for this, but I just had to get this off my chest. I've kept my shameful secret buried deep down for twelve long years of marriage. I only hope that you can look past my love of kites and we can try to put this behind us.

It started out innocently enough. A few stashed away bundles of silk, some wistful doodles. Soon I was scouring the internet for fantastic kite festivals in far off foreign lands, checking out books full of beautiful and complex box kite designs, and secretly keeping string in my underwear. By the time I realized I was a full-blown enthusiast, I was sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to sail against the wind with my lovingly hand made flier.

Oh Barbara, I can see by the look on your face that you find my obsession disgusting and horrible. But it is who I am! I beg you to give it time, eventually you will see that there is nothing wrong with loving kites! You may even come to like them yourself!

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insinuated that you might enjoy something like that. Please Barbara, all I ask is for a little understanding. Let me be me, and let me enjoy my kites!

Oh, you're going to stay with your sister for a while. Ok, I understand, take all the time you need to come to terms with what I have just told you. I'll wait here for you, my loving wife, except for the weekend of the 15th when I'll be at the "Come Fly Away!" festival in Roanoke, Virginia. It is time to come out of the closet, by god, and announce to the world that I am a kite lover!

Fire Safety Tips

2007-07-18T11:50:00.000-04:00

Fire is a deadly predator, constantly waiting for an opportunity to destroy everything that you hold dear. Follow these simple tips to keep you and your loved ones safe and sound.

Those who have sinned burn faster. Chastity is asbestos for the soul.
You may be faced with the difficult decision of only being able to save one of your children. Be sure to pick the one with the most promising athletic skills.
If you are able to start fires with your mind, it may be a good idea to keep more than one extinguisher in the house.
The entire family should be familiar with the house evacuation procedure. If Grandma isn't getting it, she may have to start sleeping outside.
Smoking in bed is a huge fire risk. Try huffing paint instead.
While you may consider all of your possessions to be priceless, the Prada bag is the only thing worth risking your life to save.
Throwing water on a grease fire will only spread the flames. Throwing the cat on a grease fire should do nicely.
If you are an unusually heavy sleeper, try wiring the smoke detector directly to your genitals.
"Stop, drop, and roll" is for pussies. Take it like a man.
During a fire, be sure to check all doorknobs for heat before opening any doors. The next room could contain a raging inferno, or sizzling Latin flavor.

These easy to remember tips will help to make sure that your family doesn't become victims of the cruel mistress that is fire.

Captain Starjammer and the Continuing Adventures of the Galaxy Brigade, Chapter 14: Treason!

2007-07-17T11:56:00.000-04:00

"If it wasn't for your inept leadership," snarled Ensign Quark as he waived his laser pistol menacingly, "We wouldn't be stuck out here in the most desolate region of the universe!"
"Think of the consequences of your actions, Ensign. They will vaporize you for this." Captain Starjammer warned gravely.
Ensign Quark snickered. "Vaporize me? They'll give me a medal when they see how poorly you've conducted this rescue operation. Princess Palusian is still in the vile clutches of Grobbo Crudd and his evil space goblins, and we are no closer to saving her than when we left Galaxy Brigade headquarters three days ago!"
Captain Starjammer exhaled sharply and began to slowly approach the brash young Ensign. Quark backed away nervously, pointing the laser pistol at the Captain's chest. "Lower your weapon, Ensign, before I get really angry."
"Stay back!" Quark shrieked. "I'm taking over this ship! I'll shoot you if I must!"
As Quark ran out of room to retreat, Captain Starjammer quickly closed the distance until the laser pistol jutted into his strong chest. "If you have the guts, Ensign, then pull that trigger." Ensign Quark shook and whimpered for a few long moments. Finally, Captain Starjammer dropped him to the floor with a thunderous slap to the face. "Commander Nebula, escort this traitor to the brig immediately!"
Commander Nebula dragged Quark's unconscious body from the room while Captain Starjammer turned to study the main view screen that dominated the ship's bridge. Chief Science Officer Thaddeus Gray approached the Captain's side quietly. "Do you think we'll find her in time, Captain?"
"We must, old friend." Captain Starjammer answered stoically, "The future of the Galaxy Brigade depends on it."

Will the Galaxy Brigade rescue princess Palusian before Grobbo Crudd and his evil space goblins reveal their evil intentions? Find out next week on Captain Starjammer and the Continuing Adventures of the Galaxy Brigade!

80's Porn Titles

2007-07-16T12:18:00.000-04:00

Cum on Eileen

Here's the Beef

Everyone Wants Candy

The Lust Boys

Like an Anal Virgin

T.J. the Hooker

Fuck Like an Egyptian

Face Invaders

Charles: Large and in Charge

Horny Like the Wolf

Fun Party Games for Kids!

2007-07-13T11:40:00.000-04:00

Spin the Needle

Pin the Rape on the Black Guy

Down Goes Mommy's Underpants

Steal the Bacon, Fuck tha Police

Find the Key to the Liquor Cabinet

Hide Daddy's Cigarettes

Kick the Cat

Summon the Dark Lord Shoggoth the Destroyer

Urinate on the Homeless

Kill the Whitey

It's pronounced "Hee-ro" you dumb son of a bitch!

2007-07-12T12:07:00.000-04:00

That's it! I'm sick of all you dumb fuck Americans coming in here ordering "Jiy-Roes" all the frigging time. You come in my sub shop, you speak my language! It's "Hee-ro," stupid!

And don't get me started on the Souvlaki. "Slovaki?" "Sokavi?" "Saki?" What the hell people?!?

I run the finest Greek sub shop in town, and I expect a certain level of respect in my establishment. If you can't be bothered to learn how to correctly pronounce what you want, then you will not be allowed to have it. That's it, I have put my foot down.

Now, what can I get you please? Hee-ro, yes good work on the pronunciation. Spinach pie, ok no problem there. Anything to drink? What's that? "Weezeo?!?"

That's it! Get the fuck out of my store!

Sin and Fecundity

2007-07-11T12:02:00.000-04:00

"It has been two weeks," Sir Percy Farthington whispered breathlessly, "Since I happened a glance at your bare shoulder. I must confess, my lady, that I have been consumed with that image every waking moment since!"
"But Sir Farthington!" Lady Chattingham exclaimed. "I am engaged to be wed to the Earl of Smithsville this very Saint Jonathan's day! Think of the scandal!"
"Scandal be damned!" Sir Farthington drew as close as he dared. "I wonder, dear madam, would you..."
"Oh no! You must not even speak it!"
"But speak it I must indeed, and speak it aloud for all to hear! Sweet Lady Chattingham, would you do me the honor of allowing me to gaze upon your unclothed back?"
Lady Chattingham swooned, nearly collapsing to the floor in faint. "You disgrace this house with your disgusting suggestion, sir, yet I cannot deny that it has aroused something of a fire inside me. Quickly, take your fill of my flesh while I undo my bodice!"
Lady Chattingham hurriedly exposed her fair back to the weak-kneed Sir Farthington. "Beautiful lady," he breathed, "Were that heavenly expanse of skin under my husbandly authority, oh such sins I would commit upon it!"
"Good Sir Farthington, your scandalous words send a tingle through my unmentionable areas!"
Just then the Earl of Smithsville arrived to visit his glowing fiancée, catching her and her suitor in a situation most unbecoming. "What is the meaning of this perversity?" he roared.
"My lord!" whimpered Lady Chattingham, "It is not as it appears!"
"No matter what it may be," he glowered, turning his attention to Sir Farthington, "You have disgraced my betrothed. Arm yourself, brigand, and defend your honor!"
"I accept your challenge gladly," Sir Farthington exclaimed confidently. "We shall duel with pistols at dawn for the hand of this fair beauty!"

In the next chapter: Will Sir Farthington defeat the cruel Earl of Smithsville and win the love of Lady Chattingham? Find out next week on Doddering Theater!

Program Guide for the Playboy Channel

2007-07-10T11:58:00.000-04:00

7am - The Sexy Morning News

10:30am - Anal Aerobics with Destiny

11am - Sexy Hospital

12pm - Nude Cooking with Shoshanna

12:30pm - The Pillow Fight Hour

1:30pm - Body Painting with Krista

2:00pm - Sexy Lifeguards

3:00pm - Lesbian High School

4:00pm - Sexy Judge Chastity

4:30pm - Sexy Judge Layla

5:00pm - The Double D Family

6:00pm - The Sexy Evening News

7:30pm - Strip Poker Showdown

8:00pm - Sexy Crime Scene Investigators

9:00pm - Who Wants to Screw Candice?

10:00pm - Sexy Attorneys

11:00pm - Late Night Phone Sex with Darla

1:00am - Sexy Paid Programming

Embarrassing Baby Names

2007-07-09T11:44:00.000-04:00

Boys

Gaylord

Tibonerous

Wussley

Limpington

Weecock

Girls

Fannie

Looselina

Hysterectiffer

Sagitha

Poontangie

Movie Review - Transformers

2007-07-06T10:35:00.000-04:00

by Phinneus McCracken

I heard there's been a lot of fussin' on the internet about the new Transformers movie, and I'll be darned if I can figure out what all the excitement is about. I went in to the local movie house expecting a big loud obnoxious summer blockbuster crap fest, but what I found was a charming little tale about love and the true meaning of devotion.

Now the feller what rips the tickets gave me the strangest look when I came through the line, I guess he didn't expect an older gentleman like myself to seek out such fare. I tell you I was so riled up by this blatant ageism I darn near went into the wrong theater by mistake. As I sat down I noticed that there were surprisingly few other patrons in this particular theater. I guess all the teenagers and internet geeks prefer the later showings. I put in my trusty earplugs to protect myself against the barrage of unnecessary sound effects that I was sure were coming my way, but boy was I shocked to hear the soothing strings of a sweet little violin piece.

Transformers stars the incomparable Mandy Moore and some feller I've seen on the TV as a soon to be married couple that have the perfect little church in mind for their wedding. Trouble is, they have to pass a marriage course taught by the head reverend, who just happens to be everyone's favorite rascal, Robin Williams.

The film was a joy, I had such a good old time watching the hapless couple struggle through Reverend Frank's zany tests to prove their devotion to one another. I won't spoil the ending, but let's just say this old guy was feeling a little misty-eyed.

Never in my 50 some-odd years of movie reviewing have I been so pleasantly surprised by an over hyped summer movie as I was by Transformers. It seems a little odd that the budget for this movie was so high, although I imagine a star of Robin Williams' caliber commands a pretty penny these days. I also thought I heard something about robots and cars, but I really didn't see anything like that. Maybe I was just too caught up in Mandy's dazzling smile to notice.

In conclusion, I give Transformers my whole-hearted recommendation, if you want a sweet little story that won't make your head hurt and your ears ring. I still don't understand what all the fuss is about, but you never can tell with those computer people these days.

Inappropriate Ice Breakers

2007-07-05T11:49:00.000-04:00

"I couldn't help but notice your fever blister."

"Did you know that it's legal to breed leeches in your bath tub?"

"Oh my, I could get lost in those pores."

"I have a masters degree in pussyology."

"Have you ever been inside a casket?"

"People tell me that I look like a young Joseph Stalin."

"I've swallowed fluids from over half of the people in this room."

"Bacon is an excellent aphrodisiac."

"I love children! The law says I might love them too much."

"You know what's good for a sore throat? My semen."

Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...

2007-07-03T12:08:00.000-04:00

...the retainer I lost in 1983!

...Charo!

...a conservative budget proposal!

...my underpants!

...Captain Daterape!

...the Electric Slide!

...Princess Di!

...your worst nightmare!

...Mecha-Hitler!

...my never ending shame!

...Colostomy Boy!

The Emergency Room is the 10th Circle of Hell

2007-07-02T15:35:00.000-04:00

Because I'm retarded, I decided to go to the E.R. to have my knee checked out nearly two weeks after injuring it while shooting pool, of all things. The knee was still bothering me after all this time despite the care measures I had been taking, so I wanted to make sure I didn't really mess myself up. Of course, after tests and X-Rays they confirmed that I had not seriously damaged anything, and that I should continue doing what I have been doing. Three hours for nothing. At least the X-Ray woman was pretty hot, although she had me in a few less than dignified positions. A couple of thoughts:

To the lady with the back spasms that kept screaming and moaning and generally making everyone uncomfortable - sorry it took them so long to do anything but honestly, were you really in that much pain? There have been births that had less drama.

And to the girl who kept staggering around the waiting room clutching her stomach while her mom kept asking if she had to throw up - thank you for not throwing up.

Notable Science Fiction Gaffes, Part 4

2007-06-29T11:13:00.000-04:00

Van Helsing

Though not technically a sci fi film, this one definitely deserves mention.

The Hype: A loving homage to classic movie monsters, the movie featured Dracula, Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, and the Wolf.....uh some Werewolves against the legendary monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing.

What Went Wrong: It appears that the studio gave director Stephen Sommers a little too much creative control, an affliction now know as "Lucas Syndrome." While The Mummy benefited from a tongue-in-cheek tone, Van Helsing was all over the place. His blinding love of the source material may have been why Sommers couldn't quite pull this one off. And why the hell did he make Frankenstein such a little bitch?

While these examples are hardly conclusive, I'm tired of writing this piece. The point remains, however, for every Serenity we get a kid friendly new Star Wars trilogy. That one still smarts.

Notable Science Fiction Gaffes, Part 3

2007-06-28T11:42:00.001-04:00

Stargate

The Hype: With the gratuitous use of then-new and exciting CG effects, an interesting mix of aliens and ancient Egypt, and Kurt "Badass" Russell, it certainly looked cool...

What Went Wrong? ...except it really wasn't. I remember walking out of the theater very disappointed, and I haven't looked back since. It was just kind of lame, and somehow it spawned 2 television series that evidently refuse to die. Obviously somebody liked it, but I can't imagine who. Probably the same people who kept that stupid show Sliders on the air for as long as it was.

Notable Science Fiction Gaffes Part 2

2007-06-27T11:42:00.000-04:00

The Matrix Trilogy

The Hype: Oh my god! The Matrix was freakin awesome! Coolest movie ever! What? There are going to be two more movies? Oh my god! I can hardly wait!!!!

What Went Wrong? Yeah yeah, at this point piling on the Matrix is like kicking a dead horse, but such a colossal let down cannot go without mention. It started as an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach that only got worse as you watched The Matrix Reloaded, and by the time the movie was over you had a full-on migraine coupled with a shocked sense of betrayal that The Matrix Revolutions couldn't possibly have cured, no matter how many cool robot suits with machine guns it had. Sure, each movie had some good bits, but it was ultimately a goddamed convoluted overreaching letdown. It was somewhat well documented that Larry Wachowski, one half of the directing Wachowski brothers, started to pretty much lose his mind during production of the final two films. It is somewhat disconcerting to see 50 percent of the creative force behind a franchise you have a lot of hope invested in flitting about town dressed as a woman and fraternizing with a well-known Dominatrix. (Not that there is anything wrong with that) Admittedly, the brothers did a great job with V for Vendetta, so the stumble was hopefully only minor. It just happened to come at the worst possible time, screwing up a franchise that could have been among the elite. The Animatrix, on the other hand, was quite good. It serves as a tease of how great things could have been.

Notable Science Fiction Gaffes, Part 1

2007-06-26T12:18:00.000-04:00

Over the next several posts, we will look at those ambitious Science Fiction movies that didn't quite make the grade. Perhaps by analyzing these embarrassing failures, we can pinpoint exactly why they didn't work, so that future generations of movie goers can avoid being suckered in by similar dismal efforts.

The Chronicles of Riddick

The Hype: The sequel to an independent movie with a decent cult fan base, this epic sci fi tale was supposed to be the first part in a planned trilogy starring then action "star" Vin Diesel. As the titular galactic ne'er do well with the freaky eyes, Diesel was to badass his way through a dark army intent on conquering the universe while learning about his own mysterious origins.

What Went Wrong? Who can pinpoint any one thing? Was it the plodding pace of the movie? The stilted acting? The lackluster CG effects? The confusing mythologies and histories all crammed together in clunky bits of exposition? Certainly all of these factors lent a hand, but I'm pretty sure the biggest offender was dialog like "I haven't smelled beautiful in a long time." (Referring of course to a woman that Riddick happened to be smelling. He wasn't remarking on his own pleasant odor.)

More to come in the days ahead. If anyone has any of their own examples, by all means toss 'em out there.

Places to visit after Funkytown

2007-06-25T12:26:00.000-04:00

Bootyburgh

Cokeville

Sexuallyambiguoustown

New Daterapeington

Herpes City

Taxevasion Beach

Poundmeintheass Acres

Suicide Cove

Fun Educational Toys for Kids!

2007-06-22T11:32:00.000-04:00

Baby's First Autopsy

The Grow Your Own Marijuana at Home Kit!

Junior CSI: The Fishbowl

Let's Fix Daddy's Spine So We Can Eat Again

Power it With Plutonium!

Timmy McGee's Chemotherapy Fun Box

What's Inside the Cat?

The Feces Detective Set

40-in-1 Alchemy Experiments for Tots

Rainy Day Nazi Code Buster Puzzles

:-(

2007-06-20T11:42:00.000-04:00

This is what my knee looks like. And right now all of it hurts.

Ow ow ow

Future WWE Story Lines

2007-06-19T12:20:00.000-04:00

After his controversial "death" in June of 2007, Vince McMahon is "resurrected" and regains his place as the Chairman of the WWE with a new air of divine authority. McMahon demands that underlings begin to refer to him as "HE."

Stephanie McMahon, although it has already been established that she is far from a virgin, becomes "miraculously" impregnated without the touch of a man. Vince McMahon spurns his son and heir, Shane McMahon, by proclaiming this new miracle baby to be his true worthy successor.

Shane McMahon, devastated by the abandonment of his father, begins wrestling with a mask under the name "The Comeback Kid" to prove his worth. By sheer emotion and determination, Shane fights his way to the very top of the WWE ladder over a period of nine months.

Having already declared himself "WWE Champion for Life," Vince McMahon prepares to take on the new challenger for the title, unaware that he will be competing with his own son.

After an epic two-hour brutal Steel Cage match, Vince McMahon finally stands over the near-lifeless body of The Comeback Kid. McMahon unmasks his defeated opponent in a final act of dominance, only to be horrified to see what he has done to his son. Shane dies shortly after giving a heart-wrenching speech about never being good enough to please his father.

In the midst of this devastating development, Stephanie gives birth to the miracle baby at the stroke of midnight during a full moon. The delivery is so difficult that it saps every ounce of strength that Stephanie has, and she passes away shortly after the birthing. Vince McMahon is left to raise the child, a task that he takes to heart after losing Shane. He names the baby Vincent Kennedy McMahon, III.

As Vince grows older and weaker, his grandson and heir becomes powerful, both physically and financially. The boy exudes his grandfather's cruelty and business sense, often surpassing both. His wrestling skills are sharp enough to hold his own against some of the biggest players in the game.

Finally, on the night Vince III's 21st birthday, he murders his grandfather without remorse. Although the Chairman's death is viewed with an endless amount suspicion, the case is never solved. Vince III takes over the WWE, his first act declaring himself champion for life. The new era begins.

Also, there are lots of pillow fights and lingerie contests with the WWE Divas. And Jim Ross gets fired and reinstated 17 times.

Lesser Known Celebrity Religions

2007-06-18T11:23:00.000-04:00

Despite increasing controversy and suspicion, Scientology has become one of Hollywood's most prevalent and powerful faiths. Before its rise in popularity, however, several other left-field religions tried to secure a foothold among the Tinsel town elite:

Dudeaism - Started by surfers on the sunny coasts of California, Dudeaism preached the ideas of "chilling out" and "taking it easy, bro." Certain ceremonial herbs were often consumed during relaxation and bonding rituals. Early adopters included Keanu Reeves and Pauly Shore.

Fabulanity - Favored by Hollywood's "it" girls, Fabulanity was almost the exact antithesis of Buddhism. Rather than reducing suffering by eliminating possessions and distractions, the purpose of Fabulanity was to increase divinity by accumulation of wealth and possessions. Levels of spiritual hierarchy tended to be measured by the number of rooms in one's mansion.

Shatnerology - This faith was also created by a science fiction writer, albeit one of considerably less talent. Shatnerology had a rich and complicated history, additional pieces of which were revealed as members paid to "advance their training." Senior members were treated to the full story of the creation of the universe, including the heroic Jesus-like figure "Kirk," his magic vessel "Enterprise," and the evil and corrupt "Klingons." Shatnerologists believe that certain human beings contain crucial pieces of Kirk's body and soul, after he was disincorporated and imprisoned by the ruthless traitor, "Khan." Those special persons, after paying to reach full enlightenment, will one day come together to reform the mighty Kirk and defeat the causes of all pain and suffering in the universe. This miracle has thus far been slow going, as there are only two registered members, the highest raking of which is unable to continue until he pays off his parents for the semester he spent at community college.

Popular Spin-offs to the game "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?"

2007-06-15T11:50:00.000-04:00

"Where in My Colon is Last Night's Filet Mignon?"

"Where in the God Damn Christ is My Motherfucking Cock-Sucking Methadone?"

"Where in Hell is Jerry Falwell?"

"Where in Pensacola, Florida is Herman Jones?"

"Where in God's Holy Name Did I Leave the Baby?"

"Where in Carmen Sandiego is the Baggie Full of Blow?"