Principia Discordia

Principia Discordia => Literate Chaotic => Topic started by: Cain on June 06, 2007, 09:26:59 PM

Title: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 06, 2007, 09:26:59 PM
I was sat in possibly the worst club in the country.  That was the bad news.  The even worse news was the only whiskeys they had were Bells, or Jack Daniels.  Mmm, a choice between the vile one and the one which had no effect.  I shouted over the music to the barmaid for a double Bells with ice, then sat down.  I reckoned I could alternate, using JD to get rid of the horrible flavour of the Bells.  Or try another drink.  Or another bar.

Well, maybe not bar.  This town wasn't friendly to other bars.  I suspected it had something to do with the thuggish nature of the hired work here, since this town was crying out for a decent place, anywhere but this meat market.  There were still a few pubs around, one that was supposedly "trendy" one the other side of town, though anyone who truly thought that had obviously led a sheltered life.  And probably even drank Stella Artois.

I looked about the place.  It was fairly quiet, as befitted the early time of night.  Or as quiet as it was ever going to get, to be more accurate.  The speakers pounded out the worst in modern dance and RnB while a few people milled around, ordering drinks or chatting with their friends.  It made a mockery of the whole club.  Not that it bothered me, the opposite in fact.  My friends would probably arrive in half an hour to an hour's time, as I guaged it.  I happened to live a lot closer than them, plus now I was back home finally, I really needed to unwind some.  What a shitty little corner of the country this place is.

The first glass went down quickly and with no ceremony.  One minute sitting squat on the bar, in its golden liquid glory, then vanished.  I sat back a moment, savouring the moment as much as one can with Bells.   I motioned to the barmaid for a Jack Daniels, again with ice, then sat back.  I took my time over this, savouring the far better flavour, if not the lack of any alcoholic effect.  Perhaps they had some Jameson here, not on display?  It might be worth asking next drink.

By now people were starting to come in with some frequency.  I briefly scanned the crowd, no-one I should be worried about, though a few familiar faces were among the masses.  Sipping on the JD, I turned back to the bar, only to sense someone stand right next to me.

"Hey don't I know you?" A female voice. I briefly glanced sideways, noting it was a tall, red-haired girl, but not much more.
I took another sip of the drink, then replied without another look "I don't think so" before returning to my drink.
However, she didn't take the hint and persisted "I'm sure I do.  You're Marc, right?"
Damn, recognized.  I grabbed the glass tight, then turned to face her.  To my surprise, nothing else happened.  No grab from behind, no punch to the face, nothing.  Must be my lucky night or something.  Fights broke out here every night, often multiple times.  Now is a bit early, but they've started earlier before, and I've done as much as anyone else had to "deserve" that, from some people anyway.

I decided to answer her question, seeing as I had already been caught out.
"Yes, that's me" I sighed, like I was reluctantly admitting a criminal charge, which some people would say it was.  I looked at her more closely in the dim light.  She was at least my height and slim, with a wonderful crop of long strawberry blonde hair.  She was dressed in a simple black T-shirt and jeans, wearing a slightly puzzled expression on her face, as if she was going to say something but had forgotten what.  I searched my memory frantically, trying to dredge a name up.
"Jenny?" I managed.  "So how's things going?"
"I was just about to ask you the same thing.  How about we get a drink and have a chat?"  I shrugged, then since nothing else was going on, accepted.

This was a little odd.  I had known Jen for about nine years now.  We had practically shared a class in every year from when we were both eleven.  But we were hardly what you could call friends.  Just the kind of person you say hi to, when you see them walking in town or something.  But hey, it wasn't like I was doing anything else, right?

She ordered her drink, a vodka and coke, then I started to stand up, when my leg reminded me it wasn't in the best of health right now.
"Are you alright" she asked with some concern as I managed to stand straight.
"Yeah" I replied through gritted teeth.  "Someone just dropped something on it today, that's all."
"What did they drop?"
"A massive reel of plastic lining about this size" I indicated roughly a foot (30cm) with my hands "by this" I finished, moving my hands about 4 feet apart.  I had been helping my best friend move stuff out of his garage earlier, when he had slipped.
"Ouch."
"I'll live" I answered.
We managed to grab a table somewhere away from the deafening loudspeakers, which allowed for conversation without loudhailers.
We mostly made small chat, about we'd been up to the last year.  I mentioned studying, while Jen had been getting qualifications towards being a nurse.
I shifted on my seat, once again gritting my teeth.
"Are you certain that's OK" she asked?  "I could  have a look if you wanted."
"That's a kind gesture, but the management probably have rules about people stripping off in here."  I thought about this a second.  "Male people anyway.  I'm sure it'll be fine by Sunday, though I doubt I'll be doing much with it in the meantime."
"Were you planning on doing much with it" she asked with a smile.
"Oh, mostly running, perhaps starting Tae Kwon Do again.  I haven't really had much chance to practice since being down here, what with work and everything."
"Hah, I still remember when you stormed out of that after college class after showing the instructor up.  My sister says he's back again this year."

Great, another year taught useless and dangerous self defence techniques.  That was worse than teaching them nothing.  I made a note to do something about that, but skipped over it for now. 

"So, any plans for the night?  Or is it just another booze up at Legends?" I asked, mildly curious.
"Actually, I'm just waiting for some friends.  Then we should be going to the Kings Arms.  Apparently there are a few good parties going on in Shaftesbury tonight and we can easily go from the bar to one of those.  And you?"
"It was going to be just a quiet night in here, but frankly your plans sound much more fun."
"Aw, poor little you.  Come with me then."
"Well, that was hard work getting you to accept the idea..alright then, I'm game."
We clinked glasses together and finished our drinks.  "Excellent" she said, licking some vodka off her lips, "we can catch up on old times."

I raised an eyebrow curiously as we walked off.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Thurnez Isa on June 06, 2007, 09:33:38 PM
SWEAT....


just browsed it over due to time constraints
have more time to actually read it tommorrow
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: LMNO on June 07, 2007, 03:00:06 PM
That was very well-written.  Autobiographic?
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 07, 2007, 03:38:49 PM
Ta.  Yeah.  Part 2 should be along in a couple of hours or so.  I may have to verbally kick the shit out of a J00 hater before then, and thats more fun.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 08, 2007, 01:35:58 PM
I stepped out into the darkness and smiled at the coldness of the night.  I never minded there being a chill in the air, so long as it wasn't raining.  I breathed out of my mouth, to watch my breathe and the alcohol crystallize in the air, lit by the orange street lights near the club.

I then turned to Jenny.  She had grabbed a coat, a simple cream coloured affair, knee length and with fake fur trim.  Doesn't sound anything special, but it suited her well.

"So", I said to her.  "Are we getting this show on the road or what?"
She smiled back.  "I just rang Gemma – you do remember Gemma right – and asked her to step up her leaving time and give us a lift.  Aren't you cold out here?"
I had a jacket and t-shirt on, no coat, but didn't feel particularly chilly.  I put it down to my time in Scotland.  It was probably snowing in St Andrews now, almost certainly going by the weather reports.  It rarely ever snowed down here, I mused.  Quite disappointing, really.
"Nah, not really" I replied.  "You planned on getting a few in Legends before your ride tonight?" I queried.
"Yeah, I thought a few quick ones while Gemma was busy doing her makeup" she rolled her eyes there "and she is the designated driver this week."
"How many else are coming?"
"Well, Katie is doing something with her new boyfriend, and Natalie is visiting her...aunt, I think, and..." a list of names of barely remembered girls were reeled off here, when I noticed headlights in the parking lot.  Looked like our ride was here.

I let Jenny go up first, she could tell Gemma I was along for the ride.  I moved up as I noticed Gemma answering something Jenny said.  Strangely, she didn't look too happy to have me along for the ride.  I tried to think why, even as I thanked her and took a seat in the back of the car.  I couldn't bring to mind any reason why she wouldn't like me – did she still hold a grudge over a careless and long forgotten insult or something?  Nothing came to mind as we drove up the winding hill roads leading into Shaftesbury, though  the awful RnB on the radio may have been distracting.

10 minutes later, we were in the Kings Arms, elbowing our ways to a table.  Now this place was much fuller.  Technically, we called the Arms a plub, a cross between a pub and club.  It wasn't brilliant, but it had space and served quickly and without hassles.

After our first round, Gemma, excused herself, mumbling something about needing to see someone.  She seemed to be acting more than just a little odd, though I couldn't put my finger on why.  The beer could be affecting my thinking, however.  I try to stick to spirits, usually my beloved scotch, but Jenny had bought me a lager and I was to polite to refuse a drink I hadn't paid for.  I drained the bottle, and Jenny had vanished too!  What was going on?

Standing up, I could see her darting through the crowd.  It wasn't very hard though, given her height and hair, she kind of stood out.  I pushed my way towards the bar, intending to get a better view of her, on the pretense of buying another drink.  Looked like she was chatting to someone else, though I couldn't see who.  Then she pointed in my direction and...no, the crowd shifted, lost her.  And I'd lost the barmaid's attention too, it seemed.

I turned back to the bar, deciding to get a drink and sort it out in a minute, when I felt someone step into my personal zone.  Its not something you really see, you notice the movement of the air and feel the absence of space a few seconds before your eyes and brain really register the person who is there.  I felt a tap on my shoulder and said "hang on buddy, let me get my drink, then we can talk."  I finished fishing around for change and handed it over to the barmaid and was rewarded with a second bottle.

Then I turned to look at the man-mountain who was behind me.  This guy was big.  I'm not tall in any way, I'll admit, but he towered over me. He looked roughly my age, maybe a couple of years older, and had definitely been drinking in here a while.  I could smell it on his breath already.  And he was tense, too.  Hands were clenched.  Jaw was tight too.  Oh dear, this doesn't look good.

"What can I do for ya, buddy?" I ask, then take a swig from the bottle.  Just look relaxed, we're all nice and calm here...
"You can start by leaving Jenny alone, do ya hear?" he almost blurted out, before resuming a nasty looking stare.
What the fuck, I thought to myself.  Bugger that for a game of soldiers, I don't take orders from random strangers in pubs.
"And why would I want to do that?" I asked as lazily as I could, swigging another mouthful of beer.  I have to stop drinking my courage soon, but its keeping my hands busy, diverting nervous attention...
"Look, its very simple, pal.  She's not interested.  Has said 'no' to yeh.  So start backing off, now, d'yeh hear?"
The way he had said "pal" left me in no doubt as to what he thought of me.  And where the hell had this all come from?  Shut up, I told myself, analyze shit in your own time.  Deal with man-mountain here first.
"Well, you know, I'd really like to and all" I said fairly quietly, making the guy lean in forwards, "but I don't take orders from people who piss themselves in public", I said very loudly as I poured half a bottle of beer down the front of his trousers.  My voice had caused everyone to turn, as I hoped, and I even heard a few chuckles as people saw the wet patch.

I started to grin myself, just before I was picked up and nearly bodily smashed into the bar.  I had miscalculated here, big time.  He had grabbed me and forced me down quickly.  I heard a sharp breaking sound and suddenly felt beer down my side.  The next thing I knew, I was pinned on the floor, with man-mountain's knee threatening to crush my cheek into the ground.
"Oh fuck", I gasped.  The pain was as intense as hell, and I tried to struggle, to pretty much no avail.  He was too heavy to be able to simply throw him off me.
My eyes focused as he pressed down harder, while shouting obscenities into my ear.  My right arm was still free up to the elbow join, despite being pressed up against the bar.  I must have been spun round, I realized.  But more importantly, I saw a broken bottle in my hand...

Freeze-frame here.  Now obviously, the above event took place in about three seconds, at most, by my reckoning.  But dealing with the changes in perspective is very important, and no perspective change is more important than the one from where you are about to have the shit beaten out of you to the one where you suddenly have an edge.  Literally.

But I'm not going to just stab someone.  Certainly not in front of a ton of witnesses, anyway, no matter how bad my situation is.  I tried to twist the bottle in my hand, so I can use the neck as a blunt weapon, but my fingers wont work.  Adrenaline rush, I realize.  Screws with fine motor functions, makes nimble fingered work very hard.  Oh fuck this.

I drop the bottle and strike upwards and sideways, hoping to hit some soft flesh.  I'm rewarded with a cry of pain from the giant pinning me, and I take advantage.  I twist sideways and kick my leg out, looping it around one of his.  I bit his knee too, freeing my other arm.  What now?  4 moves on the ground, 4 moves.  What 4 moves?  Eyes, joints, bang the head, something and something.....god damn it, what were they?  Strangulate and choke!  I drop my leg down and propel my body up, thrusting both hands upwards.

I have an advantage now!  I may survive!  He tries to break one of my arms away, but I'm working on pure adrenaline now.  I kick a leg from under him as I try to get up and he goes down.  Hard.  Somehow though, amazingly, he doesn't hit his head.  But I'm up now and he's down.  And out of my grip, too.  A vicious stamp to the chest and he stays there on the floor, at least for now.

Shit, I just got into a fight, in the Arms.  Where the fuck are the bouncers?  I looked around madly, for the black uniforms.  Two push their way through the crowd to me, like a bunch of latecomers to a really great party.  Each grab an arm and throw me bodily out of the place, shouting at me to not come back.  It has to be in their contract or something, because I know for a fact no-one has been barred from the Arms for more than a week, ever.

Shit, I felt awful.  The adrenaline rush was still going through me, but I had nothing I could with it.  Plus, I had just been in a fight.  I'd been attacked, damnit.  And had to stamp and strangle a man attempting to beat the shit out of me.  And now I was lying on the cold ground outside the pub, growing cooler with the night air.

I wasn't worried about the cops, however.  One of the strange things about this area is its twisted sense of honour when it came to things like this.  You could beat the crap out of someone in a bar, and that was OK, it may get you a roughing up by the bouncers, but at no times would the old bill be involved.  Unless they dropped by accidentally, but that rarely ever happened.

Well, I can't lay here all night.  I just about managed to pull myself up and dust myself off.  Oh crap, that hurt.  Everything hurt, my face, my arms, my legs, everything.  I was going to have a shitload of bruises.  And then I saw a glimmer of light outside the bar.  Someone smoking a cigarette.  Someone in a cream, knee length coat with what looked like a fake fur trim.

"You fucking bitch" I said.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: P3nT4gR4m on June 08, 2007, 02:30:47 PM
FKIN SWOTE! You write action really well, nice pace.

Gimme moar!
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 11, 2007, 06:25:56 PM
Cheers.  I've never been to sure with action normally, because I'm trying to imagine it, in my head, before getting it down and I'm not good at that.

Next part will probably come tomorrow.  I have a pub quiz tonight.  My services as a know it all git have been hired by one team, since the jackpot is nearing a thousand pounds now.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: P3nT4gR4m on June 11, 2007, 07:24:32 PM
gl:hf:cheatlikefuck
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 12, 2007, 11:28:51 AM
Came second.  No cash prize.  ¬£934 quid, not ours.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: P3nT4gR4m on June 12, 2007, 11:42:39 AM
You suck! Second place is just another way of saying 'LOSER'  :lulz:
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Triple Zero on June 12, 2007, 11:42:49 AM
cool story!

nice cliffhanger

waiting for the next part :)
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 12, 2007, 12:32:32 PM
Quote from: SillyCybin on June 12, 2007, 11:42:39 AM
You suck! Second place is just another way of saying 'LOSER'  :lulz:

Those questions were insane.

Highest mountain in England?
Traditionally, what is the fifth wedding anniversary known as?
Where does Rupert Bear live?

Fuck that shit, I'm having as many bottles of Magners as I can force my adoptive team to pay for. :)
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: P3nT4gR4m on June 12, 2007, 12:35:36 PM
Quote from: Cain on June 12, 2007, 12:32:32 PM
Quote from: SillyCybin on June 12, 2007, 11:42:39 AM
You suck! Second place is just another way of saying 'LOSER'  :lulz:

Those questions were insane.

Highest mountain in England?
Traditionally, what is the fifth wedding anniversary known as?
Where does Rupert Bear live?

Fuck that shit, I'm having as many bottles of Magners as I can force my adoptive team to pay for. :)

1) Scafell Pike (more of a hill than a mountain really)
2) 5 too many
3) Ruperts house

fkin easy  :lulz:
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 12, 2007, 12:50:36 PM
I got Scalfell, funnily enough.  But only 2 of us in the pub did.  Given the questions from last week, which were along the lines of "who just got jailed for 23 days" etc, that was pretty tricky.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: SBCU on June 12, 2007, 05:34:04 PM
Nice, waiting for more  :)
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 12, 2007, 08:54:19 PM
I like to think that it started there, where I picked myself up off of the frosty pavement and saw her.

But it didn't.  Its a convenient point of reference, for me, but all stories have a far earlier starting point than most people can imagine.  Chains of circumstance and event stretch back, each piling on the other to make the final course near inevitable, if only you could know all the variables.

As much as this story seemed to start with a bruised and battered young guy picking himself up off a pavement outside a local pub, in reality, it started two years before.  With an act of theft, as it happens.



"You're absolutely certain that's what it said?" I asked Lara for the second time.  She was usually meticulous when it came to detail, but I wanted to be sure.

She nodded.  I rocked back on my chair and pondered what this meant.  We were both above the library of the local high school and sixth form centre, a usual haunt for those not wanting to be packed like sardines in a tin in the Common Room, but didn't want to use the nearby park.

Which wasn't that many people, actually.  But I wanted some peace and quiet to write my conclusion for a psychology paper, when I had received the news from Lara.  She had just come from a hastily called Sixth Form Committee meeting that she and several others had not been able to attend, or had nearly missed.

I usually tried to avoid the Committee as it happened.  Working on the school paper, I had to look over their minutes now and again, and that was hardly difficult.  I had no interest in running, but had given Lara, a good friend of mine, quite a hand in her campaign and in return I got to hear about the not-so interesting things that were being talked about.

Until today.

Today, it had turned out, if Lara had heard and read right, that the Committee had decided to steal money that we, the students, had raised for charity, through shows we put on every year.  Nevermind that they were known to be for charity, and that's why the tickets sold like hotcakes, now over half of that money raised was being effectively taken and put to minor improvements within the school.

"They can't do that", I said to her.
"They just did", she shrugged. We're not a registered charity, so there is nothing to stop them.
"Misrepresentation?  Fraud?"  I asked.  She shrugged again in response.  It was going to be hard to make anything stick without any paperwork, that much I knew.  My word against theirs.  And the Committee was effectively the mouthpiece for whichever teachers sat in on its meetings anyway, since they all had veto powers over it.  Their word, or the one of a troublemaking student who had twice already been nearly suspended for putting rumours in the school paper without evidence to back up his claims? 

Though it would almost be worth it.  Given almost all the money the government gave to the school earmarked for sixth form students exclusively had been put into the giant new buildings that were being erected on the land around us – buildings we would never have a chance to use – discontent was running at an all time high.  To add insult to injury, last week the building company contracted to the job had basically been given a free hand to try and recruit students through assemblies and tutorial classes.

Of course, I didn't exactly have to use the paper to achieve my goals.  It all depended just how pissed off the rest of the Sixth Form was, by this point.  By my reckoning, and being someone who likes to keep their finger on the pulse, things were pretty close to some sort of boiling point...

Now it might surprise some people that I have some sort of moral objection to theft.  And I don't, in many cases.  It was the lying and continual theft that got to me.  If they wanted the money, why not just tell everyone this time round was going to improve the school instead?  Why try and buy off the students with this pitiful amount of cash when the government was handing out truckloads of the stuff for us?  But no....the headmaster probably had shares in the contracted company anyway, going by the fact most of the time he was looking rather like a man just given a money printing press.

And of course, when it came to institutions versus the individual, I tended to side with the individual, on principle.

Sighing, I resigned myself to figuring out something to do.  I was smart, had something on everyone and definitely had no problems rocking the boat to prove a point.  The question was how to rock the boat?  The computer behind me, connected to the internet and with an easily bypassed firewall, caught my eye.  I grinned, and set myself to work.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 14, 2007, 10:56:31 AM
I wrote two more chapters yesterday, but you fuckers wont get to read them until I get my laptop back.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Triple Zero on June 15, 2007, 09:55:22 AM
:-(

DAMN YOU AND YOUR CLIFFHANGERS

apart from that that piece was really interesting to read and leaves the reader wanting for more .. i'm also quite interested how you're gonna tie this up with the first part.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Discord on June 15, 2007, 12:09:33 PM
I wait till the end to start reading.
as i always do with films, books TV Series.
Wait till all parts are out and them get them all at once
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on June 15, 2007, 01:37:37 PM
Boringly, it all ties together pretty easily.

And there will be more, its just the library has no USB ports for flash drives, and without my laptop I cannot email the story to myself. 

So whenever my laptop is fixed, and presuming I am still unemployed, that is when the next piece will appear.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on July 21, 2007, 05:37:01 PM
"You fucking bitch", I hissed again, barely managing to stand straight.  "You set me up."
She looked straight at me with her light blue eyes, almost glowing in the dark.  "I didn't mean for that to happen Marc.  Really."  The cigarette dropped, ground out under a heel.
She walked over, offering her arm to help support my weight.  I hesitated, then grabbed tight.  I noted, with some surprise, an impressive amount of muscle tone under her coat.  Given her build and weight, anyway.
"I'm sorry it happened this way, I really am.  It all got out of hand so quickly...anyway, come to the Mitre with me.  I can explain everything, really."
"You'd better" I replied. 

The Mitre was my type of pub.  That is to say, quiet, with fast service, comfortable seats and, in the winter, excellent heating.  Myself and Jenny slid into a spare pair of seats near the back, well away from the hubbub that surrounded the bar.  She offered to get us both drinks, but I refused, telling her I could get my own easily enough.  This wasn't strictly true, I thought as I limped to the bar, but I was damned if I was going to leave her alone with anything I planned to ingest, not until after the stunt at the Kings Arms was explained.

I slid her vodka across the table, then set down my diet coke.  I needed the caffeine.

"Explain quickly", I suggested to her.  "I'm not in a very good mood, and may not like what you have to say.  The less time you give me to recover gives you more time to get away."
"Nice to see your temper is as fiery as ever" she smiled, her eyes showing her amusement.  "I said you'd understand and I'm sure you will.  Just hear me out."
I made a motion with my hand, encouraging her to go on.  It also conveniently covered a move by my other hand, as I palmed my trusty pen.

My pen is a near legendary item, among certain circles.  It was an item of true beauty, master-work aluminium, no extraneous parts to snag in clothing, a very pointy end and a blunt one.  OK, so it was no obvious weapon of terror, but I could carry it nearly everywhere and either end hurt like hell, when stuck into soft flesh with any speed.  It was an unexpected advantage, one that could really be of help when you consider nearly everyone else is totally unarmed.

Jenny took my cue and ran with it.  "I did set you up, I admit.  I wanted to see how you would react with someone being angry and in your face, someone bigger and potentially more dangerous than you are. But I never really expected it to go to blows.  I just wanted to see if you would back down, or instead do...well, something along the lines that you did."
"Is this some sort of vanity thing?  I've seen it before Jenny, pretty girls who like to get men fighting over them, to inflate their own egos.  If not, please get to the point sometime soon."
She scowled at me, then continued.  It was true, however.  There is a certain type of woman who, when her significant other is temporarily engaged, will proceed to flirt with anything with a penis, until he comes back.  More often than not, both men will be heavily built and short tempered.  The rest is pretty obvious.  However, I just said that to wind Jenny up, as she was boring me and explaining little.
"The thing is, Marc, I have a problem.  And I need someone's help.  From what someone told me, you had the exact qualities I need.  But it was idle banter, nothing really said or proven.  So I needed to test you, to give me an idea of if it was true or not."
"Or you could have, you know, asked me?" I replied, my voice filled with sarcasm.
"People lie.  You of all people should know that."
"I'm not sure if you just insulted me there or not.  Oh go on then, I'll bite.  But this better be worth it.  What are these "qualities" that make me so special?"
"You're a very convincing liar.  Oh don't scowl, it's true.  You never fight fair, you can think without moving your lips, and you seem to revel in causing chaos."
"Ah, flattery will get you nowhere.  Interesting, that you gathered all this from idle banter, I should add."
"Well, it was only a single sentence, but it led me to those conclusions, it's true.  I'll level with you here Marc.  2 years ago, you punished several thieves, in your words.  I need you to do something similar for me."
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Triple Zero on July 21, 2007, 05:56:54 PM
niiiiiice

how many chapters are there still? (or is it a work-in-progress)
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on July 21, 2007, 05:58:43 PM
Still a work in progress.  However, I can skip to the moral right now: when psycho chicks ask you to do things, just say no.  It always seems a good idea at the time, and it never is.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Triple Zero on July 21, 2007, 06:01:21 PM
hahahahaha :lol:

COME TO CANDY MOUNTAIN WITH ME, CAIN, IT'LL BE AN ADVENTURE ;-)

was it the "adventure" angle that made you give in?
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on August 01, 2007, 11:16:16 PM
Nope.  It was the "you haven't a choice" angle that did it for me.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on August 01, 2007, 11:22:51 PM
I checked my handiwork one more time, holding it up to the light and superimposing the signature over it.  It had taken a lot of practice, but this was pretty damn good, even if I did say so myself.  Given previously I had only ever forged sick notes for absences, this was pretty passable, I reckoned.  If I could take it to the photocopier's during the lunchbreak, it meant my second assault would take place tomorrow.

It had been three weeks since the theft.  Three weeks I had spent ignoring my classes even more than ordinary, and instead building my network among the more disgruntled students, aimed at bringing the entire college and larger school to a screaming halt.

Recruiting had been surprisingly easy.  With the news that the new Common Room, which had been promised to every Sixth Form for the last 8 years, had yet again been delayed and would not be complete until the summer (after we had left), coming quick on the heels of the committee meeting, several people had been especially pissed off.

The first thing we had done was to switch off the surveillance system, the CCTV cameras that had been installed at great expense the previous year.  There were black spots, especially indoors, but they were still not very helpful, not at all.  And people don't like being treated like criminals, which is exactly what putting them under surveillance is doing.  And quite ironic, given the circumstances.  Dealing with them had been very easy, because someone had splashed out on cameras that worked quite well in the dark, too.  Unfortunately, a side effect of this was to make them rather susceptible to powerful lasers, according to my research.

Now though, it was the perfect time to throw a monkey wrench into the paperwork.  The old saying goes that time is money, and since there was little chance of any of us stealing the money back, time would have to replace it.

It was remarkably simple.  The school letterhead for internal documents was easily available on the website, all one needed was a relatively high quality printer and the signatures.  After that, it was a simple matter of dropping them into the correct folders, which were conveniently accessible to students and not under any sort of watch.

Soon, several dozen teachers would receive papers asking them to attend an after school meeting with a particular teacher on the committee.  But that teacher would not actually get one of these papers, or even know about this meeting.  Too bad really, as his co-workers were going to be pissed at him the next day, for his lack of show.

I smiled to myself.  Soon life was going to get very uncomfortable for those motherfuckers.  And I was enjoying every minute of it.

Another thing I was enjoying was the self-defence classes I was being "made" to assistant instruct at, for my sins.  Apparently, you're not allowed to drop Phys Ed half way through a term, even if the only actual sport you like is taken.  After some hefty negotation, I managed to get myself this "punishment" instead of something more traditional.  Oh, what pain it was, teaching self-defence to 18 year old girls.  Yep, life was pretty good currently.

I did the warm-up, then went through a few drills with the prick of an instructor, before wandering off to critique technique.  As it happened, I ended up by Lara as she was swapping partners.  Under the pretence of wanting to show me her sparring ability, she whispered "hey, did you have anything to do with the CCTV cameras?  Because the committee were pretty pissed, it has to be said."

I only grinned in response, which she returned.  I then nearly punched her in the head.  A small part of me, which was watching the fight, warned myself to slow down and take it more easily, like I planned to for this session.  But my higher brain was simply freewheeling, letting my body go through the motions while I planned a whole different sort of game plan.  It was time to up the pressure, make some people really sweat.  Cameras and paperwork were all fun, but I needed to really think of something devastating...
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: LMNO on August 14, 2007, 02:01:12 PM
Keep it up, man.  Thi sis getting veeeery interestink....
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Shadowdaemon on August 23, 2007, 10:32:41 PM
Awesome writing.

Shadowdaemon who is trying to find a pen like the one mentioned in the story.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: trippinprincezz13 on August 28, 2007, 03:12:33 PM
Quote from: triple zero on July 21, 2007, 06:01:21 PM
hahahahaha :lol:

COME TO CANDY MOUNTAIN WITH ME, CAIN, IT'LL BE AN ADVENTURE ;-)

was it the "adventure" angle that made you give in?

LMAO - just saw that the other day...

ETA: Just finished reading the rest so far and it's great! Can't wait til the next part!
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on February 20, 2008, 04:03:56 AM
"Not interested"  I said, as soon as I drained my glass, trying to hide my surprise more than anything.  I had kept the circle of people in the know about my extra-curricular activities was very small – and only those I could absolutely trust knew I had orchestrated the whole thing.

Jenny wasn't in either circle.

"Nor do I care for what you think you know about me.  You should check your sources better in the future before jumping to wild conclusions."  I put the glass down, carefully.  "And now, as 'fun' as tonight has been, I am feeling tired.  I think it would be best if we both went home, don't you?"
"Damnit, wont you even hear me out?"
"No.  Why on earth should I?  You think you can trick me, mislead me and draw me into a fight and I will jump at your every beck and call?  I don't think so, find someone else to play your games with.  I suggest your 'friend' in the Arms, once the bruises clear up."
"And you'll do what?  Go home and stew, doing nothing.  You're wasting your life down here." she said, quietly.
"What I do is my business, and I very much doubt you have my best interests at heart.  I'm going home, taking some painkillers, and then I'm going to relax knowing you are nowhere near me."

She sighed at that, apparently resigned to the decision I had made.  I took that as my cue to leave, but as I struggled to get upright, she asked me "can I borrow your mobile a sec?  The battery died on mine."
I rolled my eyes, then grudgingly handed it over.  She pressed a few buttons, sending a text I presumed, then handed it back.  Still untrusting, I checked through my outbox.  Looked to be the truth, for once.  A single text, sent to a number I didn't know, saying "IM FINISHED.  PICK ME UP IN THE MITRE.  JENNY".

I flicked through my own phone book, trying to find a taxi service who ran at this time, then dialled.  I was ready to sleep before I even made it in the seat, and barely managed to get home without dropping off.

-------------------

I rolled over, then groaned.  Bright morning light was assailing my eyes, I hurt all over still, and there was some strange buzzing and ringing thing in my room with me.  I pulled the covers up further, avoiding anything assaulting my confused senses until I was really awake.  The ringing stopped and I relaxed.  I rolled over, winced, then looked down at the floor with sleep filled eyes, trying to grab my mobile.

It was Jenny.  She must have put her number in my phone last night, because it was now flashing in front of me.  I pressed "hang up", killing her call.  I didn't need her shit, not this early in the morning.  I was going to get up, have a cup of coffee, get dressed and...

And then what?

Do nothing, that's what.  Find a bottle of scotch, crawl inside it and lick my wounds.  I had no pressing engagements that day.  I stumbled out of my room and limped to the medicine cabinet.  A day spent blissfully out of it on the sofa sounded good right now.  When my roommate finally decides he's bored with whatever piece of meat he dragged home last night, I could probably talk to him about scoring something  a little stronger too.  I don't usually care for drugs, but this was a special occasion, I had decided.

"Dude, you look like shit."  2 hours later.  I had half a bottle of Glenfiddich in my hand and I'm sprawled over the lounge.
"Really?  Thanks for that news update, I don't know what I'd do without you."
"What the hell happened to you?  You look like you got hit by a truck or something."
"Remember how you keep telling me my taste in women will get me in trouble?  Well, you were right.  I'd rather not talk about it, truth be known."
My flatmate left it at that, which allowed me to go back to my alcohol induced free association.  OK, so maybe Jenny had a point, I had allowed myself to go to shit somewhat.  But I was a busy person.  I was either at Uni or working, I rarely had the time for anything else, and when I did I preferred unwinding to winding others up.

On the other hand...Jenny had rather pissed me off, with her antics.  And just because she had a pretty face, it didn't lessen my desire to smash something into it.  I may have come off the better, but it wasn't like I made a definite message about the fate of people who fuck with me.  Some idiot was bound to get ideas...idiots always do, that's the problem with them.  And if there was one thing the world had in plentiful supply, it was fresh idiots.

Urgh.  I put my bottle down and checked the time.  4pm.  If I took some time to sober up, and some pills, I could be back out on the town tonight.  I had some slight bruising on my head, but it was hidden by my hair, and the rest was on parts of my body that I don't make a show of exposing in public.  It would be one in the eye for the town rumour mill if I was seen walking around and looking fine...

Yes, that sounded like a fine plan.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Triple Zero on February 20, 2008, 11:05:44 PM
nice! i had almost forgotten about this story, glad that you continued on it!
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Cain on February 21, 2008, 06:39:16 AM
Yeah, I found my half finished draft for this section while trying to find my hastily compiled notes of my time in Peru, so I can complete that story.  I think I might concentrate on that one, come back to this, then, finally, finish The City
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: LMNO on February 21, 2008, 02:33:17 PM
Aw, crap.


That means I have to come up with some sort of ending to LMNO-PI, doesn't it?
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: The Good Reverend Roger on June 15, 2012, 06:30:47 PM
Bump.
Title: Re: The last laugh of the show
Post by: Freeky on June 15, 2012, 07:11:15 PM
So awesome.  While sad that it probably won't get finished (although I would love to read more), I'm glad at least the moral was mentioned.  I can think stuff up myself (though nowhere near the awesomeosity it would be if Cain continued.)