Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Shambling Into Bethlehem.

"Look, mate, if your interests are to stir a tizzy over this whole bleeding episode, congratulations, marked stars, you've owned your piece and them some. But until the cakes and corsages arrive to honor your dickery, maybe it'd be in your best interests to calm yourself right the fuck down."

He was trembling, the lank of his limbs shivering to suppress his irritation.

"Maybe you should think better of transporting a minor across state lines, you dolt. I know where you're from you have the run of the place, but here we backwards colonists have rules regarding these sorts of things."

He, too, appeared visibly shaken. Casey extended an arm to his. He withdrew at her touch and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck this," Casey muttered beneath her breath. She walked off, though no one noticed.

"You want to fight about it, tough guy?" Gordon challenged.

"I think we've had enough violence on this trip, don't you?" Parker sneered, nursing the bruise that discolored his right cheek he earned in his previous scuffle with Gordon.

"No," both boys responded while staring each other down.

Kat cradled her arms against her chest and scuffed her the toe of her boot in the dirt, the fight dissipating from her as she watched the consequences of her admittance unfold. She longed for a hole to open in the earth, something to swallow her up whole and remove her from present unpleasantries.

Mali quietly fumed.

"What's your problem?" Gordon asked, stepping toward Joe.

"I've got many, but right now, it's you."

A ghoulish screech, like a trumpet blown in the belly of a hellcat, cut between Joe and Gordon, halting them in their tracks. Mali, the source of the scream, bounded between them. Her right hook struck Joe's jaw and sent him sprawling on his ass.

"Nice--" Gordon began, though he was interrupted when his face collided with Mali's left fist. He, too, found himself bedding dirt in a daze.

"Enough!" she shrieked, panting.

I have had quite enough.

I have sat here, in this hellhole, listening to armchair economists and sophomoric socialists indulge their fantasies about the death of the free market. Patiently, I waited until all the Leninists and the Stalinists and the Marxists said their piece. I put up with Mensheviks and the Trotskiyites. I even suffered a Khruschchevite for twenty fucking minutes. I listened to them shit all over the market that brought me my Blackberry, my G4 connection, and every other bit of electronic gadgetry that clicks, chimes, or whistles in the pockets of my hoody.

And you know what?

I waited with my ticket and not once was my ticket called.

I... have had... a piss poor... evening.

And now? Now that I'm finally out of that gymnasium, I find myself watching my friends engage in some sloped-brow pissing contest over who did and said what. I have half a mind to take both alpha males out behind the shed and Old Yeller the both of you, right here and now. It'd be doing the lot of us a favor and - who knows - maybe it'd make for a decent story to tell, since Siddhartha knows we'll be chuckling along these old dirty roads telling tales for the shits and grins of it for the rest of fucking eternity, because not one of you knows where we're headed or why.

Gordon? Just because you're not sticking your cod into a fresh stream doesn't give you right to take home everything you catch.

Joe? I already like Miss Susie McCounterCulture better than I like you right now, so she's coming with.

God, I fucking hate socialists.

Silence persisted as her audience sat (or sprawled) in shock and awe.

Mali stormed away. As she passed Parker, he raised a hand to slow her and opened his mouth to speak.

"Go to hell, Parker," she insisted as she blew right past him.

A moment passed after she slipped away into the shadows beyond the parking lot.

"Well, she's a little firecracker, innit she?" Gordon offered as he rose to his feet, dusting dirt from his backside.

"Sweet girl, that one. Never knew she had it in her," Joe agreed.

They exchanged an apologetic look, an unspoken agreement between them that both were too manly to admit.

"Neat," Kat said. Gordon and Joe looked to her, then followed her eyes to the dirt at their feet.

There lay a die, three white indents facing the seamless velvet of night sky above.

Monday, November 24, 2008


Parker, Mali, Gordon and his newfound friend exited the youth center much in the same way they ventured in: megrim, curiosity, and misguided affection. Joe and Casey were within eyesight, Joe marching ahead of her with vehement uncertainty. Casey kept a noticeable amount of distance behind, not once looking at her paramour.

“Joe, mate, this ere’s Kat. Met her inside at the bar. She wants to tag along. Do you mind?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“What’s a matter mate?”

“What’s the matter, what the fuck is the matter? Shit’s falling apart “mate” and you go and bring someone else along because you want to fuck some American High Schooler? Go fuck yourself Gordon!”

“What climbed up yer arse, and what do ya mean high schooler?”

“You met her at a juice bar in a ymca. She has pins that say her high school’s name crossed out in red fucking marker. I’m sure she told you some woe is me story about deviancy, right? The fuck were you thinking, we’re going cross country and you want to aid a minor? Jesus Gordon, I thought for a second you might pass for intelligent but you go and prove me wrong. Thanks.”

Mali wanted to intervene but she wasn’t certain on word choice. It was obviously a poor choice on Gordon’s part but he was hardly deserving of a verbal tirade. She also noticed that he didn’t once look Gordon directly in the eye, as if he were yelling about a different matter entirely.

“Let me tell you a story Gordon . It’s about a dumb fucking kid with a dumb fucking dream. He wanted to be a great writer, a guy known across the world. He didn’t know how to touch his dream, how to touch his stars, but he knew there would be pain. There’s always pain. Suicidal thoughts, disease, misery, the afflictions of life, he knew those were a path.

He also knew he needed to see the world. He was ignorant. How ignorant was to be decided, but he wanted to know, what he didn’t. He wanted to see the devastation, as well as embrace the joy. What he received was much more than anticipated. He got an overdose of life. And now he doesn’t know what the fuck to do.”

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Gordons New Kitty

As Joe and Casey watched their entire lives pan out ebfore their eyes outside, and Parker tried to keep Mali from burning the gymnasium to the ground, Gordon wandered aimlessly through the building. He found a refreshment bar, and took a seat next to a blonde girl, who was angirly staring at the wall.

"That's wall piss you off, did it?" Gordon asked.

"Nope. Only thing that pissed me off is nosey strangers." she says, never taking her eyes from the wall.

"Sorry if I'm intruding. I just can't help but talk to the sad and annoyed lookin' ladys. It's kinda my thing" Gordon says, trying to choose his words with the angry young girl carfully.

"Well, there's nothing to see here, so you can move right along." she says, finally looking at him. Gordon notices the snake bite piercings in her lower lip.

"You fall into a tackle box love?" he asks.

"I swear to Christ, if one more fuckin' local redneck, God loving yokel asks me that, I'm going to kill every last fucking person in this God foresaken state!" the girl yells.

"No worries love, I'm not local. Name's Gordon. I'm here with some mates of mine. Kind of a little adventure we're on. We're just passin' through." Gordon explains.

"Why the fuck would you come to Utah? There's absolutly nothing here that would be of interst to anyone. Like, nothing. At all." shes asks.

"Well, it's kinda of a long story, involving a poetry contest, a film maker, Burning Man, psycadelic drugs, that kinda thing. Two of the other chaps are about to crucify someone on stage, and I'm not quite sure where the other two are." Gordon says.

"That'd probably be my boyfriend their about to slaughter. Don't blame them. He's a tool and I've been looking for a reason to ditch him for the last three months. What kinda shit do you guys get into?" shes asks.

"Stories." Gordon answers.


"Yep. We kinda have this thing goin' where we tell stories. I got one of our dice here, if ya wanna have a go." Gordon says, as he pulls a die from his pocket. The girl takes it, and rolls, it. She rolls a six.

"What does that mean?" she asks.

"Well, you just need to think of a word, and tell a story about it. Any word at all." he says.

Well, a lot of people around here call me a freak. I've never really known why. I don't have an extra tit, or a third eye, or anything like that. Yeah, I have a few piercings, a couple tattoos, and I like to color my hair from time to time, but does that really constitute calling me a freak? I mean, there are quite a few people around here that I would label a freak before me. It's like the second you try and stand out a little bit from the drones around here, you're treated like a fucking outcast. I got suspended from school once for putting one pink streak in my hair. One line of color, and I'm kicked out for a week. It's like if you don't smoke God's cock and have six kids and two wives, you're a mutant. Half of these people have like more kids then they know what to do with, and I've only ever been with two guys, but I'm the freak. I'm pretty sure God abandoned Utah a long time ago.

"Wow, you have a lot of anger in that little body, dontcha love?" Gordon asks.

"Just a little." she says with a smirk. As they talk, Mali and Parker approach them.

"Well, I think Mali just got us kicked out of the state, so what say we get movin', huh?" Parker says.

"I see you guys met my boyfriend. He's a real charmer, isn't he?" the girl asks.

"You have terrible taste in men." Mali says, still very noticibly angry.

"Guys, I'd like you to meet my new friend..erm..what was your name again" Gordon asks.

"Katherine. You guys can call me Kat, it's a little bit better than some of the other names I've been called." she says. "You guys mind if I tag along with you? Barry over there is gonna come crying to me any sec about how you hurt his feelings, and I have absolutly nothing in this place. I'm afraid if I stay here any longer I might set a new record for homicides in one place."

Gordon, Mali, and Parker all look to each other and shrug slightly.

"I don't see why not, you may be the most normal tag along we've had yet. We may wanna run it past Joe and Casey though." Parker says.

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea." Mali says. "Where are Joe and Casey anyway?"