Sunday, December 22, 2013

"Saved By My Ass"


I was sitting at the bar minding my own business when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turn around, and see a humanoid rhino in a fancy three-piece suit. He motioned that I needed to follow him, or else. Without arguing, I got off my stool, and down my shot of whiskey. I tossed enough money on the bar to cover my tab, and followed him.
He led me down the stairs to a heavy steel door. He knocked once, and a small passage to the right of the door opens. I saw a hairy face peek out, and grunt. The passage closed, and the steel door creaked open. The rhino grabbed me by the collar, and tossed me inside. He walked in, and slammed the door shut, making the room pitch black.
As I stood up in the dark, I'm punched in the jaw hard. I flew right into the wall, and crumpled to the floor like a house of cards. I felt blood trickling out of my lip as I'm picked up, and tossed again. I slammed into something wooden as it broke beneath me, and I hit the floor hard, knocking the wind out of me.
As I was gasping for air, a light over my head came on. Standing over me was a very tall, angry gorilla wearing an orange jumpsuit. He decked me in the jaw once again, and kicked me in the ribs. I spitted out a tooth and a lot of blood as he kicked me again. I moaned as I heard something crack inside me with the third kick.
"Enough!" someone shouted out.
The gorilla tosses me onto a couch, and disappears into the darken room. I try to look around, but all I saw was the thin trail of cigarette smoke at the very edge of the illumination provided by the single bulb. The rhino snorts as the voice said, "Be glad I stopped him. He wants to rip you apart inch by inch." The voice takes a drag of a cigarette. In the light of the cherry, I saw a pair of sunglasses, and the faint glimmer of a diamond. "However, Brutus the rhino here has no restraints."
Brutus cracked his knuckles as he stomped over to me. He grabbed me by my shirt, and snorted right in my face. I smirked as I spat some blood right on his snout.
He slammed me into the floor hard, causing another tooth to break free. He picked me up, and punches me right in the left eye hard. He slammed my face into the wall, causing me to lose sight on my left side. He turned me around, and decked me in the stomach a few times. He slammed his head against mine, and was about to jam his horn into my chest when I saw saved.
"That's enough, Brutus!" shouted the voice. "We do need him alive!"
"Boss, he ratted us out! He should die!" retorted Brutus with his hand wrapped around my throat.
"He is the only one who knows where the goods are," replied the boss. "So, we do need him alive."
I finally screamed out, "I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"
"Where are they?" asked Brutus.
"They are in my ass," I replied while spitting up blood.
"Where's your ass?"
"At the bar."
Brutus yanked me off the floor, and carried me back upstairs. Sitting at the bar was a donkey with a briefcase down by his feet.
"Is that your ass?" whispered Brutus.
"Yes. All you have to do is tell him you're Harry Johnson, and he'll give up the stuff," I explained.
Brutus walked over to the donkey, and whispered to the donkey. The donkey reached down, and pulled up the case. He handed it to Brutus, and walked out. Brutus set the case on the bar, and opened it. He walked back over to me, and smiled.
"Your ass saved you this time," he stated. "You're free to go."
"What's in the case?" I asked out of curiosity. Whatever it was, it almost got me killed.
He opened the case, and I shook my head at the contents. Inside was a large bottle of Beano.
"What the hell? That's it?" I shouted.
"The boss was tired of hearing assholes every night after dinner," replied Brutus as he disappeared behind the steel door.
I crawled out of the bar, and made it over to the ER room. As I waited for the doctor, I began to shake my head. I got almost killed over a donkey. I swore that day I would never trust another jackass for they always seem to get this rat into trouble.

The Final Post of 2013(?)


With it being now only 3 days till Christmas, and 10 days till the next year, I decided to take a break from writing anything serious i.e. my novel. Then again, fighting sickness this month, I haven't done much with the second novel anyway. It seems every time I turned around, been getting a cold, which makes it hard to focus. It's hard to be creative when you're hacking up a lung at least once an hour.
Oddly, I’ve been doing a lot of posting here. Then again, it's easier for me to finish a poem versus a full-length novel, and a lot easier to edit. I may write one about Christmas and the coming here, but not making any promises on that one. I got a hectic next few days to make it through, so I may not have the time. Then again, it's not hard to throw a poem together. I can have one done in an hour if the flow is right.
If I don't post again here, just want to say Happy Holidays, and a Happy New Year. This past year has lead to a lot of changes, and even 2014 is starting with a major one. All I hope for in the New Year is I finally can get my first novel out there. It would be nice to see 4 years of hard work not be wasted, and left forever on my hard drive. Also, here's to hoping to have the rough draft of the second one done. See y'all later or in 2014!

Saturday, December 21, 2013

"Freedom"


Struggling with my internal demons
As I've been charged with treason
I did my duty in the name of the crown
Yet my honor is being dragged down
I followed the royal order to assassinate
The young prince of a rival feudal state
Little did I know that there is a devious plot
Until the prince's short life is already lost
Before my bloody blade returns to my sheath
I’m surrounded by the guards of The Shiek
I’ve been tricked by The King himself to start a war
And I'm about to die as I face a hundred swords
A single bolt strikes the door behind The Shiek's head
I swore from the evil look in his eyes I’m dead
He yanks the arrow free, breaks it, and begins to yell
As the guards beat me down and drag me to a cell
I am tossed bloody and bruised onto the stone floor
They broke my legs before closing the prison door
The Shiek has already ordered my death for morn
At the crack of dawn at the stake I will be burned
My ashes will be sent back to my king and queen
As a message that they attacked the wrong regime
I will be killed for being a loyal and faithful ward
As our countries will destroy each other in a war
The price our citizens will pay for our loyality
Losing their loved one during these hostalities
I was nothing more then a pawn in a political game
My family's name will forever be marred in shame
At sunrise,the guards begin lighting the fire beneath me
I begin to cry as I wish I never accepted this taking
A nation torn apart in the name of a corrupted king
One man should never lead their citizens to bloodshed
For freedom is not worth leaving an entire nation dead

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

"Pay My Dues"

I really think
I need a drink
For today stinks
Like a clogged sink
I feel the need
To smoke weed
Tired of my deed
Want to be freed
I want some shrooms
And chill in a room
While playing Doom
Till the late afternoon
Need to end this day
My mind is frayed
Stress won't go away
At least it's my Friday
So, goodbye sobriety
I'm ready to party
Bring on the whiskey
I want to be tipsy
Sadly, it's not two
Can't turn liver into goo
So, I'm screwed
Until I pay my dues

"Jobs"



There's one truth in life we are never taught until we reach adulthood, and that is all jobs suck. I'm not saying I hate my current job, but no matter what job I've held for longer then six months, they all sucked in one way or another. I feel if I got my dream job, it will still have its pros and cons. There's no such thing as a perfect job, but you will always find one that makes you happy.
Does this mean you should quit a job because it sucks? Nope for you will be dealing with a new job that might be even worse then your last job. If you feel like you're ready to quit, sit down and make a list of the pros and cons. If the cons outweigh the pros, then I suggest finding something better. I quit one job due to the biggest downside: paycheck was always late. There's no pro that will outweigh any cons with a company when they keep messing with your check.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

"Salads Almost Ruined Me"


So, there I was on a Friday night eating a salad at the local diner when a group of my buddies showed up. They all ordered the salad as well, and we started shooting the breeze. It started out like normal conversations: our jobs, the weather, sports, and girlfriends and the lack thereof. After a few more salads, it started going into sillier topics: the history of knock, knock jokes, if we were all females, and my favorite was what kind of power tool would you be.
After the tenth salad, my buddy stood up and shouted, "Let's go to Vegas!"
We all gave him a funny look when I finally asked, "When?"
"Right now! Let's do it!"
I chowed the rest of my salad before I stated, "Hell yes! Let's go!"
We all paid our tab, and left the diner. I felt a little woozy from all the lettuce, so I let the most sober person drive my car. We piled in, and headed towards the highway. I tossed down another salad I took from the diner, and ended up passing out in the backseat. As we left the city, I was dead to the world.
I woke up somewhere in the middle of the desert. I look out the window, and saw we were still on the highway. I smiled when I saw the sign that stated Vegas was only a hundred miles away. My buddy hands me a bag of salad and some ranch dressing. I started chowing down on the bag, hoping I would feel better once we make it to our destination.
Five bags later, we made it to the strip. As we got out, we all killed off another few bags of Caesar salad, and entered The Mirage. We quickly got a room, and headed upstairs. We did a shot of bleu cheese dressing followed by a small salad after making the infamous Vegas pledge.  After pounding back another salad, we left our cell phones in the room, and headed out onto the street.
I found my head spinning a little from all the lettuce I've consumed as I walked into a casino. I sat down at a blackjack table, and began to play. I started winning, turned my meager forty bucks into a couple of hundred. I kept playing as the waitress started bringing me tomato salads and shots of olive oil. I felt invincible at the table.
A few hours later, and twenty fruit salads later, I was back down to twenty bucks, and my stomach was churning. I left the table before I lost it all, and began stumbling my way back to the room. I almost made it back, but one of buds grabbed me, and dragged me into a salad bar. I groaned as our table was quickly covered in leafy greens and bottles of dressing.
Around three that morning, we both stumbled out of the restaurant. As we tried to make back to our room, we walked into a gentlemen's retreat. I still don't know how my bud talked me into it, but I ended up getting an escort. The room we picked out was a garden that was filled with every salad imagined. I won't repeat what happened, but to this day, I can't think about a Cobb salad, and not get aroused.
At the crack of dawn, we began heading back towards The Mirage. I almost felled down a few times as we crawled our way back to the room. My buddy stopped, and hurled all over the sidewalk right next to a police car. The cops weren't too thrilled with green puke all over the trunk. I tried to hold back my nausea, but I lost my dinner all over the passenger door. They got out, and quickly tossed the cuffs on us. I passed out when they began driving us downtown.
I woke up in a prison cell with a pounding headache, and my mouth tasted like ranch dressing. I walked over to the sink, and washed the taste out of my mouth. I tried going back to the bunk, but ended up tossing my croutons into the toilet. Whenever I thought I was done, my stomach would erupt once more. I finally got the last crouton out of my body when there's a tapping sound behind me.
I turned around, and felt my heart sank. Standing outside the cell was my wife with a look of pure anger on her face. She shook her head, and whispered to the officer. The cop unlooked the cell door, and motioned me forward. I pulled myself off the floor, and slowly approached them. Once I was outside the cell, the cop closed the door, and told my wife to take me home, and reduce my salad intake.
The instant we got outside, she slapped me across the face hard, and told me I was getting help the second we got back home. Needless to say, the drive home wasn't pleasant. My buds and I were trying to recover from a wild night of salads in Vegas while my wife drove. By the time we made it back to the city, we all were ready to confess our sins to avoid the nagging from my wife.
The next day, I found myself in a meeting for SA, or Salads Anonymous. My wife insisted I come here, or end up alone. I felt uncomfortable sitting here, but after Vegas, I realized I had a problem with salads and dressings. So, I decided to do what was best, and stop eating salads forever. To make my wife happy, we agreed from now on, it's bacon only, no more salads. If not, she will find a man that loved bacon as much as they loved her.
A year later, I can't look at a salad, and not get sick to my stomach. I've been salad free ever since I left Vegas. The good side was my marriage was better then ever, and I lost some weight. I thought I wasted so much of my life on salads. To this day, I owe my happiness and my love to bacon. Without bacon, I don't know where I would be, but probably dead thanks to salad. I never knew bacon would save my life, and to that, I owe it thanks.

"Life"

Life can be a fickled thing. One day, it passes you like a gentle breeze, so carefree and harmless you barely pay attention to it. Other days, it's a tornado. It strikes with no warning, and have you twisted in all directions, trying to tear you apart. Some times, it's a hurricane. You see the signs of a massive tempest heading your way, and you do the best to prepare for the worst. Despite all your preparations, when the calm ends, everything is torn apart, leaving you exposed to the harsh conditions.
When the storm passes, you have to find the will to pick yourself, and move forward. You can rebuild the damages, and replace anything that didn't survive. If it were meant to last, it would have weathered the storm with you. If it was blown away during the storm, best to forget about it because it would have crumbled when you needed it the most. Besides, there's a point in life where the direction you're heading will lead to constant downpours, and a sudden squall can blow you back on the right path.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Random Story - 12/14/13



Another quiet night, another evening lost in my head. I sit on my couch trying to forget the day, but my brain won't turn off. The things I'm discovering in my mind scare me. I try to numb my thoughts with tequila, but it makes the thoughts even scarier. I finally spark up my bong, and try to stone myself into a coma. After the 5th bowl, and almost a fifth of tequila, I give up. Short of a bullet to the head, nothing is going to stop my mind from racing. The ideas are getting weirder and weirder with each passing minute.
I turn on the TV, and see a pink bear in a tutu on the screen. He is doing ballet to Slayer. As he dances, the camera focuses on the band. The band is plaid Orcas in tuxes, save the singer who is a purple monkey in a green tutu. I find myself hand banging as the guitarist starts shredding while the lead singer starts wailing. The pink bear even starts moshing with the crowd.
"Dude, pass the bong," says a voice next to me.
I turn around, and see a purple gorilla on my couch in a white kimono. I hand him the bong, and he kills off the bowl in one hit. He starts coughing while pulling out a small bag of weed. He packs a new bowl, and hands it to me smiling. I take out my lighter, and light it. I take a hit, and within a few minutes, I'm out cold.
I wake up the next morning, and find myself in a bed. I try to move, but I'm still so stoned that my entire body is numbed from the neck down. I turn my head, and see the purple gorilla snoring away next to me.
"What was that weed, man?" I yell out. "It still has me numbed, dude."
"It's called Fookitall. It knocks you out for a good 12 hours," replies the gorilla.
"Okay, that doesn't explain why you're still here."
"Easy. You're still dreaming, dumbass."
I close my eyes and go back to sleep. Some time later, I hear a buzzing noise go off. I open my eyes and see I'm in a padded room. I stand up, and see I'm in a straight jacket. I let out a sigh of relief for everything was just a dream. I walk over to the door, and press the call button with my nose. I wait patiently for the orderly to come. The little window opens in the padding, and I see the purple gorilla standing there smirking.
"COME ON MAN!" I yell. "How many dreams do I have to wake up from?"
The window closes, and reopens. This time, I see the normal orderly standing there. He is shaking his head as he messes with his radio. A few minutes later, another orderly and the doctor arrive. Behind him is the purple gorilla.
"GET THAT GORILLA AWAY FROM ME!" I yell out.
The orderlies open the door, and grab me. Before I can react, the doctor injects me with a needle. As the world starts fading to black, I hear the gorilla say, "Until you stop imaging me as being real, I will never go away. Besides, not my fault you're insane!"
I feel water on my face some time later. When I wake up, I find myself in a large cage. A keeper is spraying the hose on me.
"Wake up, George," they say. "It's time to start the day."
I let out a grunt, and head out into the pen. I smile for I'm still a gorilla despite all my weird dreams. I know one thing from this old experience, and that is never eat a brownie from an old hippie. It makes you dream you're a crazy human getting stoned with a purple gorilla.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

"The Watch"

A young boy wanders aimlessly down the dark, snow-covered street on Christmas Eve. He is barely dressed, only wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas, and a pair of old sneakers on his feet. His eyes are bloodshot, and the tears form trails down his cheek, but he keeps moving forward in the frigid winter air with a look of determination. Despite being in a big city, no one takes a glance at this youth alone because they are lost in the warmth of the screens trapping them in a digital reality.
He makes it to a bus stop, and sits down for a few minutes. He wipes the tears away from his eyes as he pulls his bathrobe closer. He keeps shivering as he hides behind a sign trying to block the wind as best as he can. Alas, the wind blows harder, cutting like a knife through his thin bathrobe. He pulls closer to the sign, but it brings no relief from the winter onslaught.
An older man quietly enters the bus stop, and places his thick trench coat over the boy. The boy looks up in shock for he was completely unaware of the man's presence. The man in the fancy black suit made no sound despite the street covered in a layer of snow and the man wearing thick-soled dress shoes. He sits down next to the boy, who is now wrapped tightly in the trench coat, and smiles.
"What in the world are you doing out so late, son? Also, might I add a little underdressed for this weather," asks the man in a calm tone.
"No offense, but none of your business, sir," the boy replies in an angry tone.
"I guess not, yet, you have to find it normal for an adult to wonder why a well-mannered child is out at this time of the night instead of sleeping in bed on Christmas Ever," the man says as he pulls out his gold pocket watch.
"I don't have a bed to sleep in," the boy replies as he starts crying again.
"Mind if I inquire why?"       
The boy tosses off the coat and shouts, "Leave me alone!"
The man calmly picks it up, and dusts the snow off of it. He sets it on his lap and states, "Well, since I'm waiting for a bus anyway, I'll at least respect your wish to stop talking."
They both fall silent as they wait. The man fiddles with his watch as the boy stays motionless, his tear-filled eyes staring forward. A few passerbies’ glance at the boy, but don't say anything as they keep walking. One old lady tries to say something, but her husband hurries her along with a perturbed look on his face. One man stopped, only to snap a photo, and walk off while messing with his phone.
About thirty minutes later, a bus finally parks in front of the bus stop. The driver opens the door, and looks at them both. Since neither the man nor the boy move, the driver closes the door and speeds off.
The boy looks at the man and asks, "I thought you were waiting for the bus?"
"I said a bus, but didn't specify which one," the man states as he keeps glancing at his watch.
"Go away!" the boy shrieks. "Leave me alone!"
"As you wish, Mark," says the old man.
There's a bright flash that leaves the boy blind for a minute. When he regains his sight, the old man is gone, but the trench coat remains. He gets off the bench, and looks around. The old man is nowhere to be seen. He runs back to the shelter of the bus stop as the wind suddenly picks up, the cold cutting him down to the bone. He hides back behind the sign, but the wind is blowing too strong now that nothing offers protection.
Tired of freezing to death, the boy throws the coat on. As he tightens it around his shivering body, he feels something heavy in the left pocket. He reaches in, and finds the old man's pocket watch. He opens it, and instantly drops it when he sees the photos inside. He stares in shock at a photo of his dead great-grandparents from his mother's side.
He picks it back up and hears the old man's voice say, "Go home to your mother. She's worried sick about you."
"Greatpapa! Come back!" the boy yells out, but there's no response. All he hears is the howling winds and the hustle of the city streets. He sits down, and starts crying again. "Come back, Greatpapa. I'm sorry."
A young man passes the bus stop. He sees the boy sitting on the bench sobbing while holding the pocket watch. Finding it odd such a young child is wandering the streets alone, he enters the bus stop.
"Hey, kid. Everything okay?" he asks as he sits down on the bench.
"No. I lost my Greatpapa," the boy sobs. "He's not coming back either."
"Where did he go?" the man asks with a confused look in his blue eyes.
"Heaven," says the boy without looking up at the watch.
"Well, my grandfather is up there as well, so maybe he can find yours," replies the man.
"If he does, can he have mine come back,” the boy asks, finally looking at the man.
The man rubs his hands through his black hair and says, "Sure, but only if you do one thing."
"What's that?"
"Let me buy you some hot cocoa. It's freezing out here."
"I can't accept gifts from strangers," the boy replies as he puts the watch away.
The man digs into his back pocket, and pulls out his wallet. He flips it open, revealing a NYPD Detective's badge. "I'm Detective Luther Wechsler. I'm a police officer."
"How can I be certain?" asks the boy with a serious look on his face.
Before Luther can reply, he cell phone goes off. He pulls it out and answers, "Detective Wechsler."
The boy tries to listen in on the conversation, but all he can hear is the detective’s responses. The boy goes back to the watch as he can't understand what the detective is saying, but one response sticks out.
"Listen, I got a small boy sitting at a bus stop freezing. I'm going to get him some hot cocoa, and try to get him home soon,” says the detective as he glances at the boy. "I say seven to nine years old, Captain." The detective listens some more while nodding his head. He finally says, "You too, Captain, and yes, will keep you posted."
Luther hangs up the phone and states while putting it back into his coat, "Sorry. Work called. So, still up for some hot cocoa?"
"Yes, sir," says the boy as he stands up.
"Good. There's a diner right around the corner. A fellow officer is going to meet us there. After we get something warm in your belly, we're going to take you home."
"Do I have to go home?" asks the boy with a sad look on his face.
"Yes, Mark, it's time to go home," says Greatpapa, who is standing behind Luther.
"Greatpapa! You came back!" shouts the boy as he runs to Greatpapa.
Luther turns around and stares in confusion for there's no one behind him. All he sees is the boy hugging the air, yet he has a big smile on his face. Deciding it's better to see the child happy, he ignores the boy for a few minutes by fiddling with his phone.
Luther stops when he hears a voice say, "Take the boy home, Luther. It will be worth the trip."
He looks around in complete awe. That was the voice of his grandfather that passed away on Christmas day five years ago. It was that day that he was forced to severe ties with his family because he was blamed for Grandfather Wilhelm's death. He hasn't contacted anyone since that day, and vowed he wouldn't make the first attempt. However, he is hearing his Grandfather's voice clear as day.
Wilhelm glances at the boy and says, "Best to get moving with the detective before you catch a cold, Mark."
Luther stares at the boy in complete disbelief at what he is hearing. He dismisses it as the wind and says to the boy, "Let's get going before we both freeze to death."
"Okay."
They leave the bus stop, and start walking towards the diner. As they pass another bus stop, Luther does a double take. He sees his grandfather sitting at the bench. When he looks again, no one is sitting there. He begins to think that this winter air is freezing his brain.
As they make it to the diner, Luther and Mark are greeted by another officer leaning against a squad car. Luther tells Mark to head inside, and grab a table as he talks to the officer.
As the boy heads inside, Luther leans against the car next to the officer.
"No offensive, Detective, but it looks like you've seen a ghost," says the officer.
"I think the cold has numbed my brain," replies Luther. "Let's head inside so coffee can warm it back up."
"Sounds like a plan, Detective."
They inside, and find the child sitting at a table with a cup of hot cocoa looking at the watch laughing.
Luther sits down and asks, "Mind if I ask what's funny?"
"Something Greatpapa told me," the boy replies.
Luther looks at the watch and asks, "Mind if I see the watch?"
"Not at all," the boy states as he hands Luther the watch.
Luther opens it, and drops it onto the table when he sees the photo inside. The photo is of his deceased grandparents. He picks it back up, and hands it back to the boy. When the boy takes it, Luther sees his Grandpa sitting at the counter smiling. He closes his eyes, and reopens them. Grandpa is gone, but the boy keeps laughing. Luther begins to wonder if he's related to this boy.
The waitress finally comes over, and Luther quickly orders two coffees and a cup of hot cocoa to go. After seeing the watch and the constant visions of his grandfather, he wants to meet the boy's parents. He is getting an odd feeling that he's taking his nephew home, but won't know for sure till he sees the parents.
The officer speaks up, "You okay? You're a little pale, Detective."
"Yeah, rather get this boy home before it gets too late," he says. Luther looks at the boy and asks, "Do you got a name son?"
"Mark Schilling," replies the boy. "What's yours?"
"I'm Luther," he replies. The boy has the same last name as his sister’s married name. He keeps getting a feeling he's found his nephew that he hasn't seen since the incident involving his Grandpa. The boy doesn't remember, but he was at most three when it happened. He doesn't know what forces are at play, but it feels like destiny that he was meant to walk past this boy tonight.
With their drinks in hand, they load Mark into the back of the police car. Once the boy tells them his home address, they begin heading that way. As they drive through the city streets, Luther keeps seeing glimpse of his grandfather in the rearview mirror smiling at him. He looks at the boy, and sees he's sound asleep on the seat.
They finally pull up to an apartment complex at the edge of town. They see a light on in the window of Mark's apartment. Luther gets out, and orders the officer to stay in the car. He gently carries Mark out of the backseat, and up the steps. He finds himself nervous as he presses the intercom button for Mark's apartment.
"Hello?" comes across the metallic feminine voice.
"Yes, this is Detective Weschler of The NYPD. I have your son, ma'am."
There's a buzz and he hears, "Come on up."
Luther opens the door, and carries Mark up to the second floor. He sighs as he stands in front of the door. He swallows down his uneasiness as he knocks.
A minute later, the door opens. An older gentleman stands in the doorway. Luther immediately recognizes his father, but stays quiet. The man looks at him with a look of disgust in his blue eyes. He finally asks,” Where did you find him, Detective?"
"At a bus stop D..err...sir," replies Luther.
"Sorry about the inconvenience, Detective. I'm just glad my grandson is home safe and sound," snarls the old man.
"Mark!" shouts a woman behind the old man. She pushes him out of the way, and grabs Mark. She hugs him tightly as tears roll down her cheeks. She looks at Luther, and her eyes widen. "Luther? Is that you?"
"Hello, Scarlet," he replies smiling. "Been awhile."
"How in the world?"
"I came across Mark in a bus stop. You should look at the watch in his left coat pocket," he states while ignoring the looks from his dad, who's clearly not amused by this family reunion.
Scarlet reaches into the coat pocket, and pulls out the gold watch. The old man finally speaks up.
"Dad's watch? How did he end up with it?" he asks Luther as he looks at the watch.
"Grandpa watched over him tonight, Father" Luther replies.” Even left him that coat to make sure he didn't freeze."
"Luther, cop or not, but I will say this. You're full of shit," snarls Father. "Making up a story about my father just so you can contact us is pure bullshit!" He's about to say something else, but stops. He looks behind Luther, and sees Wilhelm standing there with a look of disappointment.
"Father, you okay?" asks Scarlet in a concerned tone as Dad's face turns to white.
"Papa?" Father shutters out as he stares in disbelief.
Wilhelm shakes his head in disappointment and says, "Luther had nothing to do with what happened. I've died a natural death, and he did the best to save me. It's been five years, Adolph. Let it go, and be thankful he found your grandson."
"FATHER!" shouts both Scarlet and Luther. "You okay?"
"Can you stay, or do you have to go back to work?" Father asks with a shocked look on his face.
"Let me send the officer downstairs on his way, and I can stay if you insist," replies Luther.
At that instant, Father does something that shocks both Luther and Scarlet. He reaches over, and embraces Luther in a big home. "It's not Christmas unless the whole family is together," he says crying. "Sorry about Mark. He snuck out while we weren't paying attention."
"The main thing is everyone is together for Christmas safe and sound," replies Luther. "Excuse me for a minute."
He walks over to the window, and taps it. When the officer looks up, Luther gives him a signal saying he can go. As the squad car pulls off, he says Grandpa on the sidewalk. Before his eyes, the suit turns into a white robe. Grandpa looks at him and smiles before Luther is blinded by a flash of light.
When he regains his sight, Grandfather Wilhelm is gone. He turns around and sees his father standing there.
"You coming in or what? I'm not heating the entire building.
Luther heads back to the apartment smiling. A chance encounter leads to him being with his entire family, and saving the life of his nephew Mark. He doesn't know who or what planned, but he's glad his Grandpa Wilhelm watched over Mark till he saw Mark. He wants to call this a Christmas Miracle, but right now, he is being invited in by his father, and that alone, is one miracle he never expected.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

"Storms"


Life can be a fickled thing. One day, it passes you like a gentle breeze, so carefree and harmless you barely pay attention to it. Other days, it's a tornado. It strikes with no warning, and have you twisted in all directions, trying to tear you apart. Some times, it's a hurricane. You see the signs of a massive tempest heading your way, and you do the best to prepare for the worst. Despite all your preparations, when the calm ends, everything is torn apart, leaving you exposed to the harsh conditions.
When the storm passes, you have to find the will to pick yourself, and move forward. You can rebuild the damages, and replace anything that didn't survive. If it were meant to last, it would have weathered the storm with you. If it was blown away during the storm, best to forget about it because it would have crumbled when you needed it the most. Besides, there's a point in life where the direction you're heading will lead to constant downpours, and a sudden squall can blow you back on the right path. 

Monday, November 25, 2013

"Obstacles"


           It's amazing how one moment can change your life forever. No matter how well prepared you think you are, you still end up running around like a chicken with its head cut off. As you try to come to grips with what's happening, you can't for your mind is still racing in shock. Eventually, you accept what's happening, and you try to make the best of it. It still sucks, but you do your best to hold your chin up, and keep moving.
However, the worry and depressing quickly becomes a chain around your ankle. dragging you down. You try to get back up, but you lost the will to move onward as you face the crisis. You may find some strength, but instead of going in miles, you find yourself inching through life till everything goes back to normal. It's hard, but it's best to keep on living instead of giving up over one adversity. Life will always be filled with obstacles. It's either overcome them, or let them drag you down forever.

Monday, November 18, 2013

"Went Out In Flames"


So, this morning I was dead exhausted to the point I didn't want to move out of my comfy bed, and sleep till next week. However, since the puppy had to go out, I pulled myself out of bed. Once it did its business, I came back in to make some coffee to at least function somewhat without yawning every minute. If anything, my eyes will at least stay opening.
Instead of water, I decided to use NOS from a case I got at a wholesale club. I figured an energy drink with coffee would definitely give me the kick in the pants I needed to get moving. The worst case was I ruined the coffee part, or be jittery all day. After fighting back another yawn, I took the chance, and made my hyper-coffee. I sipped on the leftover NOS while the coffee brewed.
I poured the first cup, and took a sip. Since I felt absolutely nothing, I chugged it down, and poured another. Still yawning, I said screw it, and chugged down the entire pot. At this point, I stop yawning, but still feel tired. I brew another pot while downing another can of NOS. I chugged down the second pot, and decided to head back to bed for I'm still dragging.
As I left the kitchen, the walls began to melt while the wood floor started moaning out in pain. I sat down on the couch, but the couch turned into a 50' long plaid alligator that started singing Pink Floyd. I tried to jump off it, but vines made out of barbed wire strapped me to the gator's back. The gator let out a loud meow, and flew through the cotton candy roof.
I couldn't see where we were going, but I watched the sky that look like it made out of onyx with clouds made out of silver. We passed a rain cloud that was dropping diamonds, and the lighting was made out of platinum. I don't know where I am, but it seems to be made out of priceless gems and metals. I began to wonder if the sand was made out of gold, and the sea made out of sapphires.
The gator began a deep descent into a canyon made out of rusted metal. He splashed into a river made out of liquid mercury, and swam to an open in the riverbed. The gator glanced at me, and started making an annoying shriek.
I woke up, and saw it was all a bad dream as the orderly turned off the fire alarm. I looked around, and saw a scorched hole in the padded wall. The doctor gave me a dirty look as he tried to figure out how I started a fire even though I was in a straight jacket, and strapped down to my bed. He was about to say something, when the room started to spin, and all the walls exploded in flames. My last thought as the fire consumed the entire room was at least I died in a normal reality, and went out in flames.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

"Acid And Ozzy"


So, I woke up today in a bed made out of old nails, rusted chains, and barbed wire. I tried to move, but all I heard was a loud creak, like someone was trying to move a rusted gate. I was finally able to roll over, and put my feet down, which lead to a loud metillac thud. I pulled myself off the bed, and tried to move forward. With each step, the room echoed with loud clonks as I move towards the dresser.
I finally made it towards the dresser, and stared into the mirror. Everything appeared normal except this small sliver of what appears to be aluminom foil on my forehead.I grabbed it, and gently pulled on it. I almost pass out in shock for the foil doesn't peel, but my skin came out like a banana peel, revealing more foil behind it. I stopped even though there's no pain or blood because I was freaking out to the point of  insanity.
I walked into the bathroom, and tried turning on the sink. I ripped the handle clean off, and almost pull the sink down as well. I shook my head, which lead to more creaking noise. Frustrated, I tried the shower, but my feet crack the tub when I stepped into it. I yelled in anger as I kicked the tile wall, only to have my entire foot go through it. Now even more frustrated, I kicked the entire wall out, and storm out into the yard through the hole.
As I stand in the yard, I noticed it's pouring. I found myself staring in complete disbelief as the rain washed away my skin, revealing more metal. Within ten minutes, I stood there completely devoid of all flesh: nothing more than a metallic being. I walked out into the street, only to be blinded by a bright flash and the feeling of static energy surrounded my entire body.
I awoken by the buzzing of alarm clock. I opened my eyes, and found myself in a normal hotel bed, but completely naked. I lifted myself up, and found Ozzy Osborne laying next to me in the nude with a few headless bats around him while "Iron Man" blares in the background. I crawl out of the bed, and slipped on a bag full of mushrooms.
Realizing that the metal part was all a dream, I grabbed my clothes, threw them on, and left the room as fast as I could. As I thanked the purple gorilla doorman on my way out, I grabbed a cab, and went straight to the airport. As I left Vegas on the furry, flying kitten, I vowed to never do shrooms again. Then again, I also vowed to never listen to Ozzy ever again. The image of his wrinkly tattood hide will haunt to my grave.

Monday, November 11, 2013

In Memory of Our Vets

“A Familiar Sail”

A mother silently weeps
While her children sleep
She prays for that day
When her pain goes away
Her husband went to sea
To explore unknown territory
She waits patiently for word
That her love is still aboard
Many summers since have passed
Their son is growing up so fast
He wakes up every morning sad
That he may never again see his dad
Then during a winter’s gale
They see a familiar sail
They quickly run to the pier
The rain washes away their fear
Seven years ago, he left home
Not knowing where he would roam
Seven long years pain filled his heart
As he and his family were torn apart
He finally returned from his destination
He has proudly served his great nation
He would never have to leave ever again
Unless his country he must again defend

Saturday, November 9, 2013

11/09/13 Random Thought

Give one beer to an employee, and it makes them happy. A happy employee means more productivity. More productivity makes a boss happy. Boss buys more beer. Employees get more happy, etc. This repeats till the sixth beer. After the sixth beer, the state known as "Fookitall" kicks in. Happiness increases while productivity drops. Bosses get mad, but also get fired for supplying beer to employees that lead to a huge decrease in productivity. Employees are fired as well, but are already at the nearest bar drinking more happiness. Boss meets employees, and they all drink the night away till happiness spews out of them. The next morning, they wake up, and repeat this process. This is why I think beer should be allowed in the work place. A happy employee is a good, but drunk, employee.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Why I Write

Want to know the quickest way to feel like like a deity? Sit down and write a sci-fi and/or fantasy novel. You literally create you own world(s), species, languages, etc. Also, like a deity, you have to start from scratch, and hope in the end, the world is not destroyed. Plus, if you don't like the direction your world is heading, you can always end it, and start over. Total freedom of creation.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

"My Dead End Job"

Days like this makes me hate my job
Just think I could still be sound asleep
But when the order comes from God
The lost souls I shall go out and reap
Orders lead me to the state of New York
Some quiet, little town deep in the Catskills
Found the lost soul, who belongs to a jerk
A twenty-five year old whose name is Will
Will claims that he led such a hard life
No love from his parents lead to his doom
So late Friday night with a butcher’s knife
He ended his “suffering” in the dining room
I just look up at the beautiful morning sky
As he tells the long tale of his “tragedy”
I just smile and listen to his boldfaced lies
One of his greatest flaws was a lack of honesty
The main bloody reason he went and slit his wrist
Was he got horribly rejected by such a lovely girl
She fell in love with a guy that was named Chris
After that, Will hated everything about the world
I remove my black hood off of my skeletal face
Look at the ground to gather my thoughts first
My other task is to show him the awful disgrace
All of the people he hurt back in the living world
“Such a perfectly good waste of a beautiful sunny day
Just think I could be spending my time at the beach
‘No one you knew gave a shit about you at all’, you say
Look at all those mourning people beneath that beech”

He looks at me and just falls silent for a moment
He just looks at the gathering mass at his grave
“Look how much your life to these people truly meant
Think how much love and happiness that they gave
Instead, you got all emotion over being rejected by her
Not even thinking that this is more to life than sex
This is so much out there to do in this wide world
You took the easy way out by having an early death”

I fall silent for a while and let my words sink in
Hoping the words of Death will affect his views
Then again, he will be burning in Hell for his sin
And I know there is absolutely nothing I can do
That is the price he will pay with his damned soul
Suicide is a one way to ticket to eternity in Hell
This agreement between them is centuries old
She made this pact with him and it works quite well
“So will I being going to Heaven and live amongst the angels?”
Will asks me while we quietly walk towards his grave
“You should know the rules concerning suicide and Hell
Being a Catholic, you know your soul cannot be saved”

He looks at me and his face becomes pale white
He knows where his damned soul is heading now
He sadly knows in his heart that I am totally right
Satan is going to barbeque his soul like a fat cow
“Please, Death, there is something you can do to save me
There has to someone in Heaven that you can talk to”

“You have sinned and must pay the price for your deed
My hands are tied on this matter, nothing I can do
My job is to send souls to their final resting place
Souls that are unsure whether to go up or down
So I have meet them so they can represent their case
The life that they lead before being put into the ground
You made your defense and they have made a decision
You throw your life away and your fate has been sealed
The judgment was issued as soon as you made that incision
It’s too late to make a plea to her and try to make a deal
She is angry that her children never heed her words at all
She gave everyone free will and what do they do with it
They give up on her wisdom and decide to take the fall
Now, I must bid farewell and send you to the fiery pit”

With those words, flames shoot out of the ground
I point my hand towards it and bid him farewell
“Always remember these words: When you truly get down
The shortest path to happiness only leads your soul to hell
Suicide is never the solution when dealing with your problems
The real solution is to fight your way out of depression’s pit
True happiness can be always amongst family and friends
Just let them in your life and tell them why you feel shit”

With that, his soul walks forward and enters the flames
He has accepted he has brought pain to family and friends
Now his soul will be forever weighed down by the shame
That his life was just beginning, not coming to an end
As he vanishes, I head back to my home in the sky
My job here was done and I have more souls waiting
Always remember this before you think you need to die
Good things will always come if the necessary risk is taken

Sunday, October 20, 2013

"The Cereal Chronicle" Part 2



I woke up sore on a bed made out of Shredded Mini Wheats and a pillow made out of Grape Nuts. I pulled myself off the bed, and try to move when I felt something stopping me. I looked down, and found my ankle chained with a chain made out of Cheerios that is buried deep inside a wall made out of Corn Flakes. I began to think this is their prison when I hear someone moaning, "Sugar! Sugar! My soul for a spoon of sugar!"
I tried to look out the door, but I couldn't reach it. I sat back down on the bed and sighed. The King imprisoned me, even though I was told I'm here to save his kingdom. I wonder what happened when I was knocked out by The Trix Rabbit. I went from being their savior to being a prisoner. I had to find a way to escape from here before I end up dying down here in this hellish room of adult cereals.
As I sat there, I felt something snapped inside me. I let out a horrifying scream as my entire body began shaking. The bed snapped beneath me, and I landed on the floor. I looked down, and saw my skin melting into black feathers. My toes began growing large talons as they slowly turned into yellow-scaled bird's feet, causing the chains to snap. My scream turned into what sounded like a rooster crowing.
I pulled myself off the floor, and ran over to the window. I looked in awe as there's a giant beak in front of my eyes. I glanced out the window and see the sun is rising. I crowed again, causing someone to holler out, "It's back! The Rooster Lord has returned!"
I tried to turn around, but my head hit the top of the roof. I crowed again, this time, I bust through the roof, causing the prison cell to collapse around me. I kept crowing as the remains of the cell kept shrinking. Before long, I was looking over the castle wall, which was easily a good 50 feet. I don't know what I took, or what they gave me, but it turned me into a giant chicken.
I heard a voice shout, "It worked! It worked! Sam's reign of terror is going down!"
I looked down and saw Lucky the leprechaun doing an Irish jig on top of the wall. "What have you done?" I yelled out.
"To beat Sam, we needed the anti-cereal! Eggs!" he shouted.
I sighed as I said out loud, "I'm a giant cock in a world made out of cereal. Can things get any worse?"
Lucky jumped onto the back of a Buzzbee and said, "Follow us, and we will show you how bad things are."