I'm hiding in someone's home. It's weird; even though I'm against the wall
under the window, the room looks lived in. Nothing seems out of place,
even though the furniture is mismatched and there are papers and books
strewn everywhere. Everything fits, except me. I'm a stranger, peering
into a different world. But do I fit in anywhere?
That came out of nowhere.
Must be the beer, and whatever else they gave me, talking.
I wonder who lives here. 'Cause they're pretty stupid for leaving their window open when they aren't home.
I think I actually lost them. I'm not entirely sure, but I'm not going to look.
But maybe I should.
I climb out of the window, which was on the second story and down the fire escape. Then I realize that I should have gone with my gut instinct.
I shouldn't have looked.
Mahoney was standing at the mouth of the alley with his back to me. I started to creep back up, but stopped when I heard Joe yell.
"There he is!"
I never saw Joe come into the alley, but there he was, right next to Mahoney. They were walking toward me and they didn't seem too happy.
I wonder why?
I climb back down from the fire escape; there's still a chance I can get myself out of this. My plan though, is put to an early grave when I trip on the bottom stair.
I pick myself up from where I sprawled on the pavement.
"Heya Joe, Mahoney. Fancy meeting you here." My luck stinks.
Why me? Why?
"I'll pay you back somehow, I promise." I continued babbling, but trailed off when I saw the look in Joe's eyes.
Oh boy. I'm in for it now.
Despite my awe inspiring diplomatic skills they kept walking slowly towards me. Joe pulled something out of his pocket. Brass knuckles. He grabs the collar of my shirt and lifts me until I can barely touch the ground with my toes. I screw my eyes shut. This is going to hurt.
While he's taking his time pulling his arm back to get a good shot at me I take a swing at him. I brushed his shirt, but I didn't hit him. He has long arms, and he's holding me as far away from him as he can.
I hate being short.
Pain erupts on the right side of my face. I try to kick him, but he throws me down.
Then I see Mahoney step toward me. I hadn't been paying attention to him, so I didn't see him pull out the black jack. Actually, it's not a black jack, but I can never remember what they're really called. It's the non- lethal black jack sort of thing that the bulls carry.
It's hard to remember the name of something while you're being hit with it.
Mohoney cracked me over the head and Joe, kind person that he is, caught me. With his knee, in my stomach.
I fell to the ground and curled up in a ball. I'm not a coward, I just know when I can't win. This would be one of those times.
After all, I'm drunk. Am I supposed to be able to fight well?
Someone seems to be having great fun kicking me. I bet it's Mahoney. He looked like the type to kick a guy when he was down.
I don't know how long they keep it up, I just know it doesn't make any difference what I do. I mean, usually I can hold my own in a fight. But I just think of this as a special case.
Oh man. I'm in pain.
And I'm laughing. Not a 'I'm laughing 'cause it's funny laugh', but a 'It's hopeless, I'm doomed' sort of laugh.
Yeah, it's weird, but I can't help it. I'm laughing hysterically, so hard that I'm crying at the same time.
I always wanted to die laughing.
Looks like I just might get my wish.
I think they're stopping. . .
Yup. They're done.
I hope.
Ow.
Wait. Someone, I think it's Joe, has just slung me over his shoulder.
He has a very pointy shoulder.
It's poking my stomach.
Wait.
We're moving.
They aren't done with me yet.
Why, I ask you? Why me?
AN: Ok. . . sorry this part took longer to get up than the others. I'm not sure if I like it as much either. But I'm afraid it's as good as it's gonna get. Anyways. . .
Sapphy: Thanks for the review. . . and yes- Joe needs a good punching ^_^
Legs: Thank you so much. Your review made my day! (and fed my ego.but that's another story ^_^;;) Don't worry, Max Casella solves all problems. . . as does ice cream or brownies.
Thistle: thanks for reviewing!
studentnumber24601: Woohoo! You like it-I'm flattered!
Funkiechick: hehe. . .drunk Race. . . as for the Spot/Race-ness, well, I'll see what I can do *wink, wink *
That came out of nowhere.
Must be the beer, and whatever else they gave me, talking.
I wonder who lives here. 'Cause they're pretty stupid for leaving their window open when they aren't home.
I think I actually lost them. I'm not entirely sure, but I'm not going to look.
But maybe I should.
I climb out of the window, which was on the second story and down the fire escape. Then I realize that I should have gone with my gut instinct.
I shouldn't have looked.
Mahoney was standing at the mouth of the alley with his back to me. I started to creep back up, but stopped when I heard Joe yell.
"There he is!"
I never saw Joe come into the alley, but there he was, right next to Mahoney. They were walking toward me and they didn't seem too happy.
I wonder why?
I climb back down from the fire escape; there's still a chance I can get myself out of this. My plan though, is put to an early grave when I trip on the bottom stair.
I pick myself up from where I sprawled on the pavement.
"Heya Joe, Mahoney. Fancy meeting you here." My luck stinks.
Why me? Why?
"I'll pay you back somehow, I promise." I continued babbling, but trailed off when I saw the look in Joe's eyes.
Oh boy. I'm in for it now.
Despite my awe inspiring diplomatic skills they kept walking slowly towards me. Joe pulled something out of his pocket. Brass knuckles. He grabs the collar of my shirt and lifts me until I can barely touch the ground with my toes. I screw my eyes shut. This is going to hurt.
While he's taking his time pulling his arm back to get a good shot at me I take a swing at him. I brushed his shirt, but I didn't hit him. He has long arms, and he's holding me as far away from him as he can.
I hate being short.
Pain erupts on the right side of my face. I try to kick him, but he throws me down.
Then I see Mahoney step toward me. I hadn't been paying attention to him, so I didn't see him pull out the black jack. Actually, it's not a black jack, but I can never remember what they're really called. It's the non- lethal black jack sort of thing that the bulls carry.
It's hard to remember the name of something while you're being hit with it.
Mohoney cracked me over the head and Joe, kind person that he is, caught me. With his knee, in my stomach.
I fell to the ground and curled up in a ball. I'm not a coward, I just know when I can't win. This would be one of those times.
After all, I'm drunk. Am I supposed to be able to fight well?
Someone seems to be having great fun kicking me. I bet it's Mahoney. He looked like the type to kick a guy when he was down.
I don't know how long they keep it up, I just know it doesn't make any difference what I do. I mean, usually I can hold my own in a fight. But I just think of this as a special case.
Oh man. I'm in pain.
And I'm laughing. Not a 'I'm laughing 'cause it's funny laugh', but a 'It's hopeless, I'm doomed' sort of laugh.
Yeah, it's weird, but I can't help it. I'm laughing hysterically, so hard that I'm crying at the same time.
I always wanted to die laughing.
Looks like I just might get my wish.
I think they're stopping. . .
Yup. They're done.
I hope.
Ow.
Wait. Someone, I think it's Joe, has just slung me over his shoulder.
He has a very pointy shoulder.
It's poking my stomach.
Wait.
We're moving.
They aren't done with me yet.
Why, I ask you? Why me?
AN: Ok. . . sorry this part took longer to get up than the others. I'm not sure if I like it as much either. But I'm afraid it's as good as it's gonna get. Anyways. . .
Sapphy: Thanks for the review. . . and yes- Joe needs a good punching ^_^
Legs: Thank you so much. Your review made my day! (and fed my ego.but that's another story ^_^;;) Don't worry, Max Casella solves all problems. . . as does ice cream or brownies.
Thistle: thanks for reviewing!
studentnumber24601: Woohoo! You like it-I'm flattered!
Funkiechick: hehe. . .drunk Race. . . as for the Spot/Race-ness, well, I'll see what I can do *wink, wink *