Jan 24, 2005

Jan. Blog Event

This is an idea from Bryon ( I love Showtunes) Quertermous and Dave White. A set of intsrtuctions arrived via courier and we were each asked to write a short story with the the same three things. I'm not sure I'm of equal standing with my writing, but what the hell, I get to kill some people so I decided to go for it.

These are the other blogsites and bloggers participating in the blog event for Jan 25th.

My story follows this list:
Dave White
Bryon Quertermous
Sarah Weinman
Gerald So
Graham Powell
Aldo Calcagno
Duane Swierczynski
Jennifer Jordan
Dave Zeltserman
John Rickards
Ray Banks
Pat Lambe
Bob Tinsley

The Story:
No Cure For Cancer

The car was traveling at around 75 MPH. To Al this didn’t really feel all that fast, but of course he was driving through a subdivision and the speed limit was only 25, so he was in fact going way too fast. The fact that the houses were still under construction didn’t change the speed limit. <>It shouldn’t have surprised him when he saw lights flashing behind him, but Al was in fact surprised. Surprised and immediately nervous. He couldn’t afford to be pulled over and given a ticket. His insurance was already costing him a kings ransom every three months and he couldn't afford for it to go up. He reached over and turned off the radio, even though it was the middle of the new Metallica song. He needed to think.

Because Al is going to die, he really shouldn’t give a flying fuck about insurance. He could be nervous just hoping his plan would go well.

Two options became clear pretty quickly. He could try to out run a car designed to chase other cars, or pull over and hope for the best.

Al pulled over.

The patrolman walked up to the car with kind of swagger you can only get by wearing a belt loaded down with too much equipment. As the cop reached the rear of the car, Al rolled down his window and leaned out. The patrolman leaned down.

“Good evening sir. Can I see you drivers license, please?”

“My hovercraft is full of eels”, Al said with a grin.

“Excuse me?” the patrolman asked with a grimace.

“Sorry, I’m just fucking with you. Hang on a second and let me get my wallet out.”

“Could you step out of the car, sir?”

“Fuck it,” Al muttered to himself and reached between the seat and the door.

As he opened the door he rolled out on to his back and aimed straight up.

The taser hit the patrolman in the belly and for a minute the man just stood and there and shook. When Al dropped the taser, the patrolman dropped right after it.

Al stood up and kicked the cop.

“No sense of humor,” he said to no one.

He reached down and grabbed the cop’s gun and his taser and walked to the back of the car. As he popped the trunk, the car’s owner started to come around. Al walked back, grabbed the nightstick from the prone patrolman, and stopped to give him a blow to the head. When he went back to the trunk he repeated the night stick move on Mr. Murray. With the other members of his party unconscious, Al got down to business.

He dragged the cop back to the trunk and threw him in on top of Mr. Murray. He slammed the trunk shut, walked back to the patrol car and sat in the drivers seat.

Having been for a ride in a few of these, Al knew where to turn off the lights. He put the squad in gear and pulled around in front of Mr. Murray’s car. He hoped out, leaving the squad running and moved over to the sedan he had been driving, and shut the lights off and closed the door.

“What a pain in the ass”

Getting back into the squad car, he drove the half mile to where the property he owned was showing the signs of new construction .He parked the squad around the back, hidden from the street. He jogged back to the sedan and drove that to his property as well.

Stepping threw the framework that would soon be a new home, he slid back the plywood floor. Al insisted on plywood, no particle board for him. Money was no object, after all, he had plenty. When he found out the cancer was terminal he'd taken out he took out a number of loans. It wasn’t like he would need to pay them back. He’d be dead long before then.

With the basement exposed, he reached in and turned on the lights. The basement lit up but left everything else dark. He walked back to the car and dragged out the cop and then Mr. Murray, dropping them on the ground long enough to close the trunk. He then pulled them one at a time over to the opening and slid them down the ramp into the basement. He took the steps down after them.

By the time they came to Al had them tied up and blindfolded. The cop spoke first.

“What are you doing? I’m a cop!”

“Blah, blah, blah. Shut the fuck up.”

Al leaned over and kicked while he spoke.

“Let me guess. I have no idea how much trouble I’m in, your pals on the force will be looking for you, etc etc.

Leans down to speak right into the cops ear.

“Well, I happen to know it will be a while before they do. I know all about you, pal. This is the time of night when you usually take off for a snooze and everyone leaves you alone.”

“What do you mean you know about me?”

“You don’t think this is random do you? You two are just names on a list of people who need to pay.

Al lights up a Marlboro red and takes a long drag.

"Mr. Murray here got me fired from my first job back in high school. I lost my first girlfriend because of that. And you, you dumb ass. You busted me for having a joint when I was 19. One lousy joint. But it was enough for my parents to pull me out of college."

Murray finally spoke “ You’re going to kill us for that?”

<>“Buddy, I’m going to kill every one that ever did me wrong”

“You’ll never get away with it.”

“I don’t need to. I’ll be dead in three months. I decided I’m not going alone.”

Al pulled the blindfolds off and the two men looked around. Their faces took on slack expressions as they noticed the other bodies.

“I killed the lawyers first. And the one in the white? That’s the Doctor with no cure for me.”

Al started for the stairs.

“I’ll be back later. I have a little more trunk music to play before I kill you two.”

The light went off and they heard the car drive away.

They sat in the dark, wondering how long it would be until he came back.

It’s too bad Al was speeding after he left. He ran off the road and died with out anyone
finding out about the basement in time to do anything for numbers 17 and 18 on the list.


John Rickards said...

I now want to use the phrase "my hovercraft is full of eels" in public myself. :-D

Gerald So said...

I like the quick reveal that Al is going to die. It earns him instant sympathy, but at the same time, you can't ignore that his moral compass is shot. Good ending, too.

Graham Powell said...

My hovercraft is full of eels? Excuse me, but W? T? F?

Jen Jordan said...

Not a Python fan in the bunch.

It's from the "Hungarian phrasebook" sketch. Part of episode 25 (second season, airdate 12/15/70), the sketch features a maliciously misproduced English-Hungarian phrasebook. The phrase "my hovercraft is full of eels" is given as the English translation for the Hungarian phrase meaning "I want to buy some matches"....more hilariously, the Hungarian phrase meaning "Can you direct me to the station?" is translated by the English phrase "Please fondle my bum."

Cleese is finally pulled away from the scene when he, the badly translated tourist, is arrested. As the cops take him away, he was heard to scream,
"My nipples explode with delight!"

Graham Powell said...

Ah, yes, I'd forgotten about that one. And I am a Python fan - if you look closely in my story, the narrator says, "Don't taunt me a second time!" No word about farting in his general direction.

Jon The Crime Spree Guy said...

The number of bloggers using Monty Pyton Quotes in their work sahll be one.

No Two, the nuber shall be two.

Because nobody expects the spanish inquisition
(Except John Rickards)

Dave White said...

Clever Jon. Quite clever. Nice work.

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