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The Job

Started by Payne, April 22, 2007, 11:59:13 PM

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LMNO

Don't worry about it.  I've been writing "LMNO-PI" for at least two years.

Payne


   Rogers face pulled back behind Mandy, I shifted my eyes back to her. She'd been watching me? For a couple of years? I started to feel uneasy again.

   "Don't worry Steve, nothing really sinister about it. I just kept track of you. Whenever you were really in trouble, I would help you out. Like that cigarette outside the gas station earlier." She tried a smile of reassurance, but it failed.

   I felt a hand on my left shoulder, Jims. "She likes the burned out emo-type man. Don't try to understand it just now, just listen to this." He indicated across the table to the man sitting directly opposite me. Our eyes locked for an instant, but the contact was broken when he reached out for a bit of paper in the middle of the table. He was pretty non-descript, but he had such an air of assured confidence that I decided never to tangle with him if I could possibly avoid it. Pulling the paper towards him, he flipped it over quickly, a brief glance at the back, then back over.

   "This is a copy of the paper Mandy gave you earlier. It has some things on it you should find useful, but I really do recomend you don't lose this one." He snatched a pen that was half hidden in the detritus before him and drew a design on it in quick, fluid strokes. "This is the design of the pendant that was on the necklace. As they already have both the paper and the pendant, it doesn't really matter much at this stage that you have both in one handy little package." He folded the paper, almost carelessly, but with precise folds. He leaned over and extended it to me. I reached for it. "Do not open this until you are outside." I nodded numbly, took the paper and held it in both hands.

   I could see that some murmered conversation was taking place at the end of the table, then the talkers stood up and walked out. A woman stood up and removed a cell phone from a hip pocket. "Here. Don't use this unless you really have to. Theres only one number stored on it. When you call, you will get no answer, but we will help if we can." I caught the phone as it was tossed over to me, then she, too, walked out the door.

   I lit another of Mandy's cigarettes. Drawing deep, trying to calm myself. Whatever was going on, it was clear I was not in control, and these guys moved fast.

   "O.K. you have the material you need," said Jim "We can't really do much just now other than tell you that what was taken from you is important. You need to find the necklace, and the people who stole it, and you need to do that quickly."

   I had not considered it before now, having been dazed after the attack, and with the speed everything had been going since then. There had to have been at least two people involved. One was obviously the shadowed man, but who had hit me from behind? Had it really been two men in grey with shaded faces? No, I was fairly certain that the man I had seen was the same both behind and ahead of me. This would have to wait though. First I had to get out of here and figure out what the fuck was going on.

   Jim stood up and went to a closet, which he opened and took out a plain jacket. He extended it to me. It was obviously time to get out of here. Mandy and, particularly, Roger watched me carefully the whole time. I retrieved the jacket and threw it over my shoulders. Suddenly I was desperate to be going, I walked to the door without comment or gesture.

   As I reached the door to the hallway, Mandy ran up to me. She handed me the pack of smokes, and put her hand on my face again, as she had when I had entered. I pulled away after a moment and left.

   Five minutes of solid walking back down the street, and I stopped under a street light. I took out the paper I had been given. It seemed to be covered in cramped writing, which I would read later. Other than the writing there was the symbol that had been drawn while I watched, which seemed to be a confused squiggly line, looping over itself, with the numbers 853 written within the swirls. On the paper were a couple other symbols, a circle with little pictures around the edge, and what seemed to be a graph of some kind. None of it meant anything to me.

   I leaned back on the lamp post. This was getting to be really fucking weird. I decided to go home to decide on calling the cops, or calling a psychiatrist.

cyberus

 :D :D  You've yet to dissappoint, Payne.  One thing I have noticed in most of the 'discordian' fiction posted here is that it's like conspiracy theory fan fiction, if you can catch my drift.  There's always something behind the scenes that either the reader or the main character(s) have no idea about.  I see it in LMNO-PI, in Idem's Working Title, and so far it's here in yours too.  Personally, I think it's wonderful.  Conspriacy ideas can provide such a great hook for readers, and you use it quite well.
The bun-sellers or cake-makers were in nothing inclinable to their request; but,which was worse,did injure them most outrageously,called them prattling gabblers,lickorous gluttons,freckled bittors,mangy rascals,shite-a-bed scoundrels,drunken roysters,sly knaves,drowsy loiterers,slapsauce fellows,slabberdegullion druggels,lubberly louts,cozening foxes,ruffian rogues,paltry customers,sycophant-varlets,drawlatch hoydens,flouting milksops,jeering companions,staring clowns,forlorn snakes,ninny lobcocks,scurvy sneaksbies,fondling fops,base loons,saucy coxcombs,idle lusks,scoffing braggarts,noddy meacocks,blockish grutnols,doddipol-joltheads,jobbernol goosecaps,foolish loggerheads,flutch calf-lollies,grouthead gnat-snappers,lob-dotterels,gaping changelings,codshead loobies,woodcock slangams,ninny-hammer flycatchers,noddypeak simpletons,turdy gut,shitten shepherds,and other suchlike defamatory epithets; saying further,that it was not for them to eat of these dainty cakes...

Payne

It was that conspiracy idea that fucked me up for a couple of days. Didn't know what to with it.

I've already commited myself to have some symbols in the story (from the second part, which was pre- "I'd better plan where this is going a bit"), which I have come up with something I hope is interesting and different.

Next part, in hopefully 1-2 days.

Idem

Just finished reading.

Really good so far.

Payne

Yeah, given the weekend I've had, I'm putting back my timetables a bit.

Payne


   Sunlight filters in through my front window. It's harsh, kind of like the taste in my mouth. It's obviously time to wake up.

   I'm sprawled on the dead sofa in my living room, still wearing the clothes I had on last night. My neck creaks a bit from having slept on the arm of the sofa.

   God damn, but I need to wash this taste out of my mouth, what is that? Shuffling through to the kitchen, I light a cigarette and glance at my watch. 14:20. What the fuck? A solid eight hours sleep, but I feel like it's only been two. I swill water through a dirty glass, "cleaning" it before filling it. I briefly run through yesterday in my head. It feels like a second rate movie.

   I stumble through the detritus on my floor back to the seat. I glance briefly at the crumpled paper. I decided not to call anyone when I got home. After all, what would I tell them? I still feel a distaste for the paper though. The cigarettes? I can certainly live with that, but I need to do something about food. Hunger is gnawing at my stomach having not had a bite to eat yesterday, so I scramble through the shit on my floor, hoping to find some reserve of money I haven't already raided. Pointless. I've been doing this for a couple months now, I don't have money anywhere.

   Fuck it, I'm going to head to the supermarket down the road and do whatever it takes to get a bite to eat. I don't want to break the law, but if it comes to that, I will.

   I grab the jacket Jim gave me the night before, not letting the sun fool me into thinking it's warm. If nothing else, I can flog it to someone to get something. I consider leaving the scrap of paper here, but something tells me to take it with me, after all Mandy "watches" me. I pick it up and fold it again, slide it into my inside pocket on the jacket. My backs of my fingers slide against something unexpected. I pull it out.

   It's a wad of notes. What a fucking winner! Jim obviously gave me the wrong jacket yesterday. It's not my money, but damn right I'm going to spend it. And I'm going to spend it in the pub, where I've not been for a few weeks.

   It's a forty minute walk down to the pub, and for much of it I can avoid running into people. I could take the bus of course, but I far prefer walking. I walk very quickly, thinking nothing much at all, and get to the boozer completely event free.

   I push my way through the doors into an almost empty bar area. As you expect for midafternoon on a Thursday. A good friend of mine is standing behind the bar. I smile as I grab a stool. Used to be that I would have my drink waiting for me when I came in, but that was before the days when I was sponging constantly. When I reach into my pocket and pull free a ten pound note, however, he immediately starts mixing one up for me. A regular sized glass with a double shot of the cheapest, nastiest whisky with shit loads of ice and topped with cola.

   "Jesus man, I've not seen you for weeks. We thought something happened to you." My friend is a tall guy. We call him Slim, because there are too many of us called Steve in the pub, and I already reserved that name for myself by beating the other Steves in a drinking game.

   "Yeah man, you know what it's like though. It's embarrasing sponging so relentlessly, so I like to lay low for a bit before I start again." He nods, having been there himself.

   "You could at least let us know. Fancy a pie?" When I aquiesce, he pops into the kitchen and comes back with a fresh one. It looks absolutely disgusting, but who cares? Food is food.

   Over my drink, the pie, and another drink, I fill in the last couple of weeks, including last night. He comments little, but does laugh at the idea of Mandy stalking me. The pub is starting to get busier as local businesses close earlier on Fridays, so I move myself to a table in the back, out of the way and let him do his job.

   With food in my stomach, and alcohol in my veins, I feel more able to read whats written on the paper. I fold the symbols under as I want this to be private, and they are eye-catching.

         Steve,

         So glad you finally got round to reading this. We are serious about you doing this for us. Consider the money as
         payment in advance. This paper will not have much importance to you until later, but we do recomend you keep
         it in mind. The first key has been given to you, though understanding it will take a while. Using it will lead you to
         the second. And so forth.

         Our messages to you will be brief. Our assistance will often not be noticed until after the fact.

         Beware the man wearing a grey coat. The Christian preacher will help you and you will have to be prepared to
         listen to him at the most awkward time.

         Sorry for the cryptic message, but this is the way it has to be played out this time.

         Seriously, take care. We will be watching but we cannot cover for every eventuality.

                                    ~Mandy.


   Shaking my head, I put the paper back into my hip pocket, nestling beside the wad of cash. Time for a piss, and another drink. I head to the door marked "Gents". On my way out, heading back to the bar for that drink, I see a flash of grey as the man in the hat runs out the door, Jim's jacket in his hands.

   Feeling properly pissed off, even though the jacket is not mine, and nothing was in it, I give chase. I chase him for a few blocks, chase him 'round a few corners, always just glimpsing his grey jacket. I'm just about completely winded when I come to an abrupt stop. He's standing in an alley way, the jacket on the ground.

   And he looks mad.

Idem


Payne

I have decided to put this on the back burner for a while, due to plot lines becoming very confused.

I will distill the stuff that is good, and leave you with this "cliffhanger" until i can be arsed to actually write something decent.

HAH!

LMNO

Heh.

Welcome to the PD.com literary scene.



LMNO
-proud owner of an unfinished manuscript.

Idem

I'm gonna start my shit back up again when I get to florida - about 1 1/2 weeks.

Having to study for finals.

Have to memorize the more trivial bits of American History - right now, the curriculum isn't based on the EVENTS of history, but the documents, memos, and papers certifying that something happened during its time.   :roll:

Cain

Thats crap.  Ours was analytical ability mostly, it pwned.

Idem

"How did Hitler solidify his power?"

"What is the title of our National Anthem and who wrote it?"

"Define 'draft'"

"The 1st 10 Amendments to the Constitution are called what?"

Payne

I hated doing that shit when I did history. I always wanted to get on to the gory bits.

BTW Idem, your avatar was dancing to Soul Kitchen- The Doors in almost perfect time. I was kinda freaked out by it.

LMNO

Quote from: Idem on May 17, 2007, 07:47:15 PM
"How did Hitler solidify his power?"

"What is the title of our National Anthem and who wrote it?"

"Define 'draft'"

"The 1st 10 Amendments to the Constitution are called what?"


1. Rush Limbaugh
2. "Achey Breaky Heart", Billy Ray Cyrus.
3. Child sacrifice to Mannon
4. "Endangered Species."




Did I get it right?