Well, I WAS supposed to have this up a few days ago. But unfortunately, I
had a most unusual experience.
SETTING: "TOMM" is lying in bed at 1 AM, trying to get some sleep for tomorrow morning's poker tournament.
(TOMM is staring at the ceiling as the dark room is taken over be a blinding light.)
TOMM: Huh?
GOD: TOMM!! HEAR ME!
TOMM: Gah! What the?!?
GOD: DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?
TOMM: No.
GOD: I AM GOD. WHO ELSE IS SURROUNDED BY INFINITE LIGHT?
TOMM: Britney Spears at a photo shoot?
GOD: OKAY, FAIR ENOUGH. I HAVE COME TO GIVE YOU A WARNING. YOU ARE NOW A WALKING CURSE. EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE AROUND YOU WILL FALL APART.
(TOMM wakes up from a dream.)
TOMM: Weird.
(TOMM then goes to the poker tournament. He then is dealt three huge hands in a row, all of them are disastrously drawn out on. He then goes to his money game where every hand he gets withers and dies. He then goes home after losing all his money to this huge bad luck streak, to find that his stepmother has gotten into a motorcycle accident. The next day, he then.)
And it just goes on like this. I am literally afraid to come in contact with just about everything.
You might want to stop reading this story right now.
Reader Response:
BMW: I did have a life, but I'm now too poor to have one. So I'm sitting at home and at work doing nothing, (trying not to do too much harm to myself or others) except for a little thingy I like to call "Project Aruba". I'll elaborate on that next time.
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon: You better not die! You still need to finish your stories at Fictionpress!!
Anifan1: Thanks for the heads-up on correcting the thought-speak issue. What would I do without you?
Here we go, but be careful. If a black cat crosses your path right after you read this, I suggest you make sure your life insurance (and your relatives' life insurance) is paid up.
Chapter 19: Forsil
"Charlie's" is actually a business called "Crown Jewelry and Loan". Also known as a "pawnshop", it is a place where people who have some sort of valuable object can borrow money against it. Jay used to frequent this place when he was younger, when he was a less experienced poker player.
[Sigh. Ever since I won that big one, I never thought I'd be back here.]
[Well, we're here to make progress, not attempt to mend our losses.]
[Umm.okay.]
It was close to closing time for this business. Fortunately, we could do what we needed to do rather quickly, after all, the convoy was due to leave in a few hours, and we were supposed to be on it.
[Permission to be myself.]
[What?]
[Let me be me, Forsil. Charlie is my friend.]
I let go. Jay had difficulty maintaining his balance, as usual, but he eventually regained his composure. He then stepped inside.
* * * Jay
Charlie's not much to look at. Then again, you probably wouldn't expect a 5'9", 160 pound guy to be much to look at. Little do you know, that this guy's seen everything. He's been in shootouts, helped catch thieves, dealt in high priced diamonds, and saved the hides of little people like me when it comes time to pay the bills.
"Jay? That you?"
"That's my name."
"What's happened this time? Full house under four of a kind? Or three Aces under a flush again?"
"Nope. I'm not here to get money. I'm buying today."
"Well, congratulations. What can I do for you?"
"You're still selling cell phones, right?"
"Yeah, but didn't I already sell you one?"
"It's not for me, Charlie. It's for an acquaintance of mine. He's moving away. Call it a going-away present."
"Okay. I can get you a great plan, unlimited minutes. . . "
I cut him off: "I need prepaid. I don't see this guy using his phone for a long period of time. How much for about 200 minutes?"
"It'll be about $150, phone and activation included. You need it activated now?"
"Yup."
"Okay. Coming right up."
After a few minutes, we were ready to go. I made sure the new phone was in someone else's name: I put it under "Gus Marshall".
[Who's Gus Marshall?]
[Drop the "G" and add a plural to the end, Forsil.]
[Then let me rephrase: Why "Us Marshalls"?]
[Try U.S. Marshals. They handle the federal Witness Protection Program. They're the guys who destroy your life and make you a new one.]
[You still didn't answer my. . .oh.]
I don't know who was supposed to ride along with us in the convoy. He may be named Mike, John, Paul, James or Don.
But within a few hours, his name is Gus.
"Okay, Jay. You're all set. Anything else?"
"Nah, Charlie. Thanks a lot," I said, as we walked out.
Chapter 20: Forsil
We were all set.
There was a duffel bag to carry everything: We had the stun gun. We had a real pistol for emergencies. We had some duct tape to restrain "Gus". We had the new cell phone. We had $2,500. We had the vacuum cleaner.
We also had no remorse, for we were about to kill a man.
He wasn't going to biologically die, but he was going to socially die. He'd probably never see his friends or family again. He's have to start over.
A casualty in a war he initially had no part of.
* * *
After making sure the arrangement with Ampriss was set, we arrived at the initial transfer area. It was a dilapidated warehouse surrounded by other abandoned buildings. We'd enter the truck, and head for the freeway. Our police escort would "coincidentally" show up as we traveled through the surface streets. If Ampriss did her job, they'll be broken up before we get to the onramp.
The freeway rest area is only a few miles beyond that, incidentally. It's the only real rest area for a long trip. I don't believe there are any other rest areas nearby.
The warehouse was crawling with armed guards. Apparently, the Hork-Bajir troops were already inside the truck, because it was all ready to go when we arrived.
[Are we late or something?] Jay asked.
[No, we are exactly on time. But that is odd, I did not expect this much preparedness.]
A male Human-controller approached us. He looked to be around thirty years old.
"Forsil 326?" he asked.
"Yes. Are you to be my traveling companion?"
"I am. My name is Myorga 958."
"I'm amazed, Myorga."
"Don't be, Forsil. I simply made sure the workers got our caravan ready for our arrival."
"That's not why I'm amazed. I'm amazed because you're not groveling like most other Yeerks when introducing themselves to superior officers."
Myorga made his host smile. "My host has a saying: 'If you have no dignity, you have no life.'"
"I will have to remember that one."
Then, one of the workers approached, to inform us that we were ready. Myorga and I entered the truck. Myorga started the engine.
"Tell me, Myorga.what is your host's name?"
"Richard. Why do you ask?"
"I find names interesting. One of my favorite names is 'Gus'."
Myorga laughed.
"Why are you laughing?"
"My host finds it comical. His favorite pet when he was a child was named 'Gus'."
[Forsil, stop trying to get to know the guy. We're ruining him in a few minutes.]
Conscience is something Jay once had. Poker is what made him lose it.
It is something I have never had. And I believe that Jay is making me gain it.
SETTING: "TOMM" is lying in bed at 1 AM, trying to get some sleep for tomorrow morning's poker tournament.
(TOMM is staring at the ceiling as the dark room is taken over be a blinding light.)
TOMM: Huh?
GOD: TOMM!! HEAR ME!
TOMM: Gah! What the?!?
GOD: DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?
TOMM: No.
GOD: I AM GOD. WHO ELSE IS SURROUNDED BY INFINITE LIGHT?
TOMM: Britney Spears at a photo shoot?
GOD: OKAY, FAIR ENOUGH. I HAVE COME TO GIVE YOU A WARNING. YOU ARE NOW A WALKING CURSE. EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE AROUND YOU WILL FALL APART.
(TOMM wakes up from a dream.)
TOMM: Weird.
(TOMM then goes to the poker tournament. He then is dealt three huge hands in a row, all of them are disastrously drawn out on. He then goes to his money game where every hand he gets withers and dies. He then goes home after losing all his money to this huge bad luck streak, to find that his stepmother has gotten into a motorcycle accident. The next day, he then.)
And it just goes on like this. I am literally afraid to come in contact with just about everything.
You might want to stop reading this story right now.
Reader Response:
BMW: I did have a life, but I'm now too poor to have one. So I'm sitting at home and at work doing nothing, (trying not to do too much harm to myself or others) except for a little thingy I like to call "Project Aruba". I'll elaborate on that next time.
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon: You better not die! You still need to finish your stories at Fictionpress!!
Anifan1: Thanks for the heads-up on correcting the thought-speak issue. What would I do without you?
Here we go, but be careful. If a black cat crosses your path right after you read this, I suggest you make sure your life insurance (and your relatives' life insurance) is paid up.
Chapter 19: Forsil
"Charlie's" is actually a business called "Crown Jewelry and Loan". Also known as a "pawnshop", it is a place where people who have some sort of valuable object can borrow money against it. Jay used to frequent this place when he was younger, when he was a less experienced poker player.
[Sigh. Ever since I won that big one, I never thought I'd be back here.]
[Well, we're here to make progress, not attempt to mend our losses.]
[Umm.okay.]
It was close to closing time for this business. Fortunately, we could do what we needed to do rather quickly, after all, the convoy was due to leave in a few hours, and we were supposed to be on it.
[Permission to be myself.]
[What?]
[Let me be me, Forsil. Charlie is my friend.]
I let go. Jay had difficulty maintaining his balance, as usual, but he eventually regained his composure. He then stepped inside.
* * * Jay
Charlie's not much to look at. Then again, you probably wouldn't expect a 5'9", 160 pound guy to be much to look at. Little do you know, that this guy's seen everything. He's been in shootouts, helped catch thieves, dealt in high priced diamonds, and saved the hides of little people like me when it comes time to pay the bills.
"Jay? That you?"
"That's my name."
"What's happened this time? Full house under four of a kind? Or three Aces under a flush again?"
"Nope. I'm not here to get money. I'm buying today."
"Well, congratulations. What can I do for you?"
"You're still selling cell phones, right?"
"Yeah, but didn't I already sell you one?"
"It's not for me, Charlie. It's for an acquaintance of mine. He's moving away. Call it a going-away present."
"Okay. I can get you a great plan, unlimited minutes. . . "
I cut him off: "I need prepaid. I don't see this guy using his phone for a long period of time. How much for about 200 minutes?"
"It'll be about $150, phone and activation included. You need it activated now?"
"Yup."
"Okay. Coming right up."
After a few minutes, we were ready to go. I made sure the new phone was in someone else's name: I put it under "Gus Marshall".
[Who's Gus Marshall?]
[Drop the "G" and add a plural to the end, Forsil.]
[Then let me rephrase: Why "Us Marshalls"?]
[Try U.S. Marshals. They handle the federal Witness Protection Program. They're the guys who destroy your life and make you a new one.]
[You still didn't answer my. . .oh.]
I don't know who was supposed to ride along with us in the convoy. He may be named Mike, John, Paul, James or Don.
But within a few hours, his name is Gus.
"Okay, Jay. You're all set. Anything else?"
"Nah, Charlie. Thanks a lot," I said, as we walked out.
Chapter 20: Forsil
We were all set.
There was a duffel bag to carry everything: We had the stun gun. We had a real pistol for emergencies. We had some duct tape to restrain "Gus". We had the new cell phone. We had $2,500. We had the vacuum cleaner.
We also had no remorse, for we were about to kill a man.
He wasn't going to biologically die, but he was going to socially die. He'd probably never see his friends or family again. He's have to start over.
A casualty in a war he initially had no part of.
* * *
After making sure the arrangement with Ampriss was set, we arrived at the initial transfer area. It was a dilapidated warehouse surrounded by other abandoned buildings. We'd enter the truck, and head for the freeway. Our police escort would "coincidentally" show up as we traveled through the surface streets. If Ampriss did her job, they'll be broken up before we get to the onramp.
The freeway rest area is only a few miles beyond that, incidentally. It's the only real rest area for a long trip. I don't believe there are any other rest areas nearby.
The warehouse was crawling with armed guards. Apparently, the Hork-Bajir troops were already inside the truck, because it was all ready to go when we arrived.
[Are we late or something?] Jay asked.
[No, we are exactly on time. But that is odd, I did not expect this much preparedness.]
A male Human-controller approached us. He looked to be around thirty years old.
"Forsil 326?" he asked.
"Yes. Are you to be my traveling companion?"
"I am. My name is Myorga 958."
"I'm amazed, Myorga."
"Don't be, Forsil. I simply made sure the workers got our caravan ready for our arrival."
"That's not why I'm amazed. I'm amazed because you're not groveling like most other Yeerks when introducing themselves to superior officers."
Myorga made his host smile. "My host has a saying: 'If you have no dignity, you have no life.'"
"I will have to remember that one."
Then, one of the workers approached, to inform us that we were ready. Myorga and I entered the truck. Myorga started the engine.
"Tell me, Myorga.what is your host's name?"
"Richard. Why do you ask?"
"I find names interesting. One of my favorite names is 'Gus'."
Myorga laughed.
"Why are you laughing?"
"My host finds it comical. His favorite pet when he was a child was named 'Gus'."
[Forsil, stop trying to get to know the guy. We're ruining him in a few minutes.]
Conscience is something Jay once had. Poker is what made him lose it.
It is something I have never had. And I believe that Jay is making me gain it.
