Two Penny Saga: She was the one who gave me Directions!

My Cousin Jay gave me this first sentence.  I wrote for 5 minutes and this is what I got.  

Michael rowed his boat ashore, except this wasn't Sandusky, Ohio.

“Where are we?”

The mermaid sitting on the bow glanced around.  “I thought we were in Ohio but this might be Paris.”

 Michael jumped out of the boat and the ruby red ocean turned into a busy city street lined with cafes.  Cars honked at them and drivers leaned out the windows cursing in French.  The Eiffel tower loomed overhead.

“I don’t think this is Ohio.” 

“You got us lost again?”  The mermaid moaned. 

“You were the one giving me directions!” 

“Well you were the one rowing!”

“Excuse me son!”  A squat man waddled up to Michael with an even squatter wife.  “Can you tell me the way to your I-Fall tower thingy?”

“It’s right there,” Michael pointed over the man’s shoulder.  “Do you know the way to Sandusky Ohio?”

“Typical French attitude,” the man snorted.  “Always want something in return.”  He waddled off. 

Michael climbed back into the boat and the street behind him turned into the ruby red ocean.  He cast off.  “I told you we should have gone left.”

“Well if you were so certain why didn’t you go left in the first place?”

“Because you told me to go right!  At this rate we’ll never return that library book on time!”  

Two Penny Saga: Gone Hunting

My cousin Karen suggested this first line to me.  I wrote for 5 minutes and this is what I got.  

Michael checked his list of supplies again. So far ten people had taken the bait.

He was going for thirteen, a baker’s dozen, but it was late in the day.  There was only time to catch one more.  Michael laid the bait out again and crawled behind the ornamental bushes in the mall’s food court.

For over half an hour, Michael watched mothers push their strollers, teenagers flirt and old couples bicker in line for Arby’s.    Finally, a tall, dark man with a young face walked out of the movie theater.  He stopped and stared at the mug of coffee Michael had placed by the bushes. 

Michael held his breath.  For a second the man didn’t seem able to decide if he was interested in the coffee.  He finally crouched and snatched it up.

“What the hell?”  He realized something was wrong and tried to drop the mug.  The glue stuck to his hands.  The line attached to the mug went taught and Michael reeled the man into the bushes.

Two hours later the man woke up in Michael’s basement.  All around him men and women who had also fallen prey to the hunter’s bait were also stirring.

“Good morning,” Michael smiled stepping out of the shadows.  “I am glad to see you are all awake.  There is much to do.”  He pointed at each of his prisoners.  “You’re Special Agent Cooper….you’re Bob…you’re Laura Palmer.  The rest of you are various towns people.   Learn your lines quickly.  We begin at dawn.  No one will stop me this time.” 

He threw a bundle of scripts onto the floor.  On each cover was written, “Twin Peaks:  Season 3.”

Two Penny Sagas: The Horrible Truth

 My friend John B suggested this first line to me.  I liked what I was getting so much I wrote for 10 minutes this time.

 

“Have you ever heard a mountain lion scream? It sounds like an opera singer being slowly mutilated with an axe.”

“How’d you know?”  I pounded away on my Cousin Jerry’s Nintendo DS while lounging on the side of his dad’s brand new pool.

Jerry didn’t say a word.  That was so weird I finally put my game on pause and looked up at him.  He was biting his nails and staring at the sun. 

He finally blurted, “My dad and I caught a bunch of mountain lions last summer!”

“Dude, if you saw a mountain lion you’d shit your pants so bad they’d smell it all the way in Chicago.

After that Jerry was quiet long enough for me to get to the next level.  He finally jumped up and ran for the door.  “Come check this out!”

I put the game on pause and dropped it onto the lawn chair.  “Fine!  Just to see what a dumb liar you are.” 

I followed through the giant house his dad had bought when he’d become a millionaire overnight.

We reached the basement door and Jerry hissed, “Now you gotta be real quiet!” 

“I sure will!”  I wished I hadn’t left the Nintendo back by the pool.    

Jerry opened the door and I was ready to shove him inside and lock it on his stupid face when I heard the weirdest sound.  It sound like….well, to be honest it did kind of sound like an opera singer getting mutilated with an ax. 

We went down into the basement and there was my Uncle Rick with five cages each holding a half grown mountain lion.  Fire was burning under two of the cages.  One of them was attached to a motor so the cage walls were closing in on the cub and Uncle Rick was jabbing the last two with pointy sticks.  Needless to say the lion cubs were shrieking right into microphones set up in front of the cages. 

“What’re you doing?”  I shouted.

Uncle Rick jumped up.  “Jerry!  What the hell are you doing?”

“He didn’t believe me about the mountain lions!” 

“No one’s supposed to know about the lions.  Get the hell out of here!” 

“What’s wrong with you?”  I shouted, backing away.  “Why’re you doing that?”

Uncle Rick took a deep breath.  “It’s just how the music industry works, son.”

“Music industry?”

“Where the hell do you think music comes from? I’ve been torturing animals and selling their screams to wanna be composures years.”

“It’s sick!”  

“All the greats got their ideas from the sounds cute animals make when they’re tortured.  Opera is completely based on lions screaming.  Blue Grass comes from squirrels being skinned alive.  Disco would have never happened if it weren’t for puppies being skewered on a stake!”

“I thought that was heavy metal!”  Jeremy scratched his head.

“Ironically that’s the only genre of music that has never been influenced by the sounds of dying animals.”  He walked toward me.  “It’s just the way the world works, son.  I’m sorry but you can’t-.”

I ran for the door, sprinted past the pool and jumped the fence.  I didn’t stop running until I got back to our trailer.  I tried to tell my mom about it but she just yelled at me to be quiet.  She yelled at me when I tried to call the police. 

Tonight I’m heading back to Uncle Rick’s house and I’m going to free those lions.  I don’t care if that’s how the world works.  Everyone complains about what a little jerk I am but even I know that’s not right.     

4 Penny Saga: The Guardian of Death

 My friend John R suggested this first line to me.  I liked what I was getting so much I wrote for 10 minutes this time.
 

Mosby the red panda stood at the top of the stairs guarding the door.

The gates to the underworld had once been guarded by a three-headed dog.  Then there had been a raven and for a brief period of time a koala.  When Koala had been caught hitting on the shade of a deceased supermodel all the animals had come together to draw straws and determine who would be the next guardian of the underworld.  Mosby the red panda had drawn the short straw.  He was fairly certain that Coyote had tricked him.

Being the underworld’s guardian meant that every day was exactly the same.  He mostly leaned against the Black Gates, playing Tetris on his cell phone while waving all the shades through.  Mosby did get to meet every celebrity who passed through but most of then were in pretty foul moods since they had expected to live forever.  

One day Mosby was sitting on the steps furiously tapping his cell phone when a voice announced,  “I demand that you let me enter!” 

One of the long vertical blocks dropped down and the game ended.  “Come on!”  Mosby shouted.  “I was up to 147 Lines!”  He looked up and saw a young man standing in front of him.  The young man was still alive. “What do you want?”

“My name is Albert.  My girlfriend, Nadia, was just killed by a drunk driver.  I’m here to get her back.”

“Right.”  Mosby started a new game of Tetris. 

“What are you some kind of raccoon?”  

“I’m a red panda and the guardian to the realms of death and come hell or high water I’m getting up to 150 lines!” 

Albert looked up at the black metal gates.  “So you don’t mind if I just go on through then?”

Mosby yawned and intoned, “No living creature may pass.  If you want in so badly go home, eat fifty Slim Jims and come back here when you’re dead.”

“But Nadia was the kindest person I’d ever met.  She was always working at soup kitchens and fostering animals.  Can I at least visit her?  Tell her I’m sorry that she died because I asked her to go to the store and pick up more Cheetos?”

Mosby paused his game.  “Look kid, you’re not the first person to try to get back a loved one, but let me tell you something, it never works out.  Your girlfriend sounds like she was wonderful but she’s moved on.  Even if she could come back what makes you think she’ll want to?  Now the best thing you can do is live as good a life as possible so when it’s your turn to go through these gates you’ll end up in the same place with her.” 

Albert opened his mouth to argue but closed it.  He turned and slunk away back down the stairs.

Mosby tried to go back to his game but groaned and shouted, “Way to make me feel like the bad guy! I didn’t make up these rules, you know!  I got shafted with this shitty position!” 

Albert turned on him.  “You think your position is shitty?  I work reception for an insurance company and now I don’t even have anyone to come home to!”

“At least your job lets you talk to people!”  He held up his cell phone.  “I get terrible service out here and they won’t even get me a PSP.”

“If I had your job I wouldn’t just sit around playing stupid video games!  I’d finish my screenplay and read every great book on the planet!” 

Mosby jumped up.  “If you want my job so badly why don’t you just take it?”

Albert stared at him and looked up at the gates of death.  “This seems like a pretty big deal.”

“All you have to do is turn away people trying to break in and discourage Goth kids from hanging around.”

“Can I bring my futon and lap top?”

“Can I keep my bamboo at your place?”

“Sure.”

And so that is how Albert became guardian to the gates of death and Mosby the Red Panda became the Lord of Reception at Mooney’s Life Insurance. 

Shotgun Reviews: The Stand

After a plague kills 99.4% of the human population, the survivors form two groups; one under the benevolent guidance of the 108-year-old Mother Abigail, the other led by the cruel drifter turned dictator Randall Flagg. 

·      The version I listened to was the “complete & uncut” edition.  I agree with Mr. King that a book should not be edited just to save paper and ink (the reason why the original version was cut short by 150,000 words).  However, I do have to admit that the story dragged at times.  The first and third sections were gripping but much of the second half of the middle section lagged.

·      However, I did appreciate the story’s enormous scope.  The novel begins in “modern day” America and ends in a world reshaped by supernatural forces.  A lesser storyteller would have skipped the plague and plopped us straight into Mad Max land. 

·      One of the most intriguing parts of the novel was that the characters who went over to Randall Flagg’s side weren’t serial killers and devil worshippers.  Many of them were friendly, moral human beings.  This may have been Mr. King’s way of saying that the devil has something to offer even the best of us.  They were terrified by their leader but still got things from him they would not have gotten from Mother Abigail.   
·      That being said, one of the characters who turned to Randal Flagg’s side was someone the reader (and even the heroes) saw coming a mile away.  I would have preferred more of a gradual decent into evil rather than a character who was so obviously going to turn bad.  It also seemed strange that the main characters had a sixth sense not to trust him.   

·      The Stand was surprisingly spiritual.  I would not call it Christian Fiction but God has more of a presence than I was expecting, especially in the second half.  Of course there is also a good deal of resentment toward God for allowing the plague in the first place. 

·      I was not nearly as disappointed by the ending as I was when I saw the made for TV movie.  It could very well be that I have matured since the ninth grade or that the book itself is considerably better than the TV version.  I got more story from the book than I did in the show, and I could see how the characters and the events were leading up to the climactic scene.  The novel comes off as an apocalyptic game of chess between God and the devil. 

Two Penny Saga: Mary's Strange Addiction

 My friend Tamanya suggested this first line to me.  I wrote for five minutes.  This is what I got.  (If any of you have any more suggestions for prompts please let me know.) 

 She knew she shouldn't have eaten that much glitter. But she had no idea it would turn out like this.

Adam said he taught third grade so Mary figured that was why he had a bag of rainbow glitter lying under the table on his back patio.  Mary grabbed the bag, scooped out a glob of the glitter and smeared it on her tongue.

“I hope you like red wine!”  Adam called from the kitchen. 

Mary dropped the bag under the table and turned.  Adam strode from the kitchen with that perfect smile of his.  He was the first legitimately nice guy she had ever met and-

Mary started to rise up off the picnic table.

“Shit!”  She grabbed onto the table and pulled herself down. 

“Mary!”  Adam shouted.  “Did you eat my fairy dust?”

“I thought it was glitter!” 

“Why would you eat it if you thought it was glitter?”

“I-.”  Mary stared at the deck.  “I have a problem.  Ever since I was four I’ve had this compulsive urge to eat glitter.  No one else knows about it.  You must think I’m a freak.”

“No!”  Adam sat down on the bench and took her hands.  “You’re not a freak!  I wish you’d told me about this sooner but I still love you!”

“You do!”  The happy thought shot Mary into the air.  She was a mile above the earth before she realized that she needed to suppress her happy thoughts.  “Grandma’s funeral!” she shouted.  “My parent’s divorce!  Putting down Scruffy my dog!” 

She dropped out of the sky like an anvil. 

“Adam Loves me!”  She rocketed up again.  “Putting down Scruffy!”  She started to drop. 

She went back and forth shouting “Adam Loves me….Putting down Scruffy….Adam loves me….Putting down Scruffy….” All they way down to the earth. 

What went through my head while skydiving

Yesterday morning Kimmy and I jumped out of an airplane two miles above the ground.  (Fortunately we were both attached to people who know what they were doing.)

• The absolutely most terrifying part of the experience was signing the wavers stating, "You may (and probably will) die today."
• There isn't a whole lot to the "skydiving class" before you jump.  While we were walking to the plane I was wondering "when does the class begin."
• Despite the expression on my face in photos I don't remember being all that scared when my feet  left the plane.  My senses were so overwhelmed there wasn't much of my brain left for emotion.   
• I will never appreciate a view like I did falling straight toward Ocean City. 
• My initial reaction when the parachute opened was not relief (like I assumed it would be).  I was more disappointed that the free fall was over. 
• Regardless, parachuting down was my favorite part of the experience. I especially liked having control of the chute and spinning to get a better view of the horizon. 
• The only time when I started to feel anxious was when we got closer to the ground and the fact that we were up in the air became more real.
• The landing was smoother than I thought it would be.  I was expecting a bump like when you land in a plane but we just slid right in.
• And of course the very first thing I did when we landed was look up in the air to make sure that the parachute attached to Kimmy had opened (it had).