A slight breeze had sprung up, but the night was still balmy for November. On the far side of the Pacific Coast Highway, at the entrance to Fashion Island Mall, stately ranks of enormous phoenix palms were illuminated by floodlights fixed to their boles. Long green fronds swayed like hula skirts. The breeze was lightly scented with the fecund smell of the nearby ocean; it didn't chill him but, in fact, pleasantly caressed the back of his neck and playfully ruffled his thick, black, gravity-defying hair. In the wake of his spontaneous rebellion against his mother, the world seemed to have grown delightfully more sensuous. In the car, he switched on the radio. It was functioning perfectly again. Roy Orbison was rocking out "Pretty Woman."
Gohan sang along. Lustily. (teehee) He remembered the ominous roar of static and the strange phlegm voice that seemed to be calling his name from the radio, but now he found it difficult to believe that the peculiar incident had been as uncanny as it had seemed at the time. He had been upset by his conversation with his mother, feeling simultaneously put-upon and guilty, angry with her but also with himself, and his perception hadn't been entirely trustworthy. Plus, a hungry Saiyan's senses can never be trusted. The waterfall-roar of static had been real enough, but in his pall of guilt, he had no doubt imagined hearing his name in a meaningless gurgle and squeal of electronic garbage.
All the way home, he listened to old-time rock-'n'-roll, and he knew the words to every song. This was good.
Life sucks like a lolypop
Pulling into his driveway, his headlights shined brightly on the opening garage door that soon revealed a well kept garage with neat shelves and cupboards organized with tools, lawn equipment, and freaky house warming gifts his mother had given him a while back. His home was modest. It was two stories without a basement. He couldn't go all out because his family came first when it came to finances.
Closing the garage door, he walked inside and set his keys on the designated hook. Then he sluggishly dragged himself into the kitchen to grab a refreshing glass of water before heading upstairs to get to work. Sipping on his icy water he concluded that he would rather walk into the living room and relax for a moment first. It was a weird day, he deserved a break.
The carpet was a nice creamy white, the cushy and soft kind that you could squish between your toes. The couch was new and had yet to be worn in, but it was a good couch none the less. It had promise. The downstairs looked like your typical house with kitchen, bathroom, living and dining rooms. For his salary, it was a great home. Warm and cozy with a Kenmore heating and air-conditioning system...guarenteed to last for a life time.
Gohan set the half-empty glass on the wooden coffee table in front of him, thinking about turning on the television for a few moments to get his mind off of previous events.
He picked up the remote-control, switched on the TV, and decided on watching something comical. Flipping to cartoon network, he felt lucky to find a rather interesting cartoon on the three little bears...only the bears were seemingly high -on God knows what- and goldy locks was a prostitute in a red mini-skirt -who knows where she got that idea from... I hope not the granny-, but beside those 'minor' points, the show was able to squeeze a few chuckles out of the prude-ish Saiyan.
After about a half an hour, Gohan finally realized why little children would willingly get up a 4:30 am to watch such weird animation. It was absolutely fascinating. He must try it some time. Hell, he may as well go all the way and add the sugar coated cereal.
Gohan sat there enjoying himself, feeling that maybe today was just one of those fluke Friday the 13ths that got their days of the week messed up. In his mind, that made more sense than not, which was a good thing considering the many other ways he, or anyone else matter of factly, would have taken it. Especially his mother. By God. She probably would have called an exorcist or something and make him run around naked with mashed potatoes in his shoes, or whatever that ritual was. She would make him do it for sure -using her 'quiet before the storm' technique- and he could bet anything she would video-tape it. The special broadcast would most likely be held at Christmas. Dooms day...well unless the exorcist was unsuccessful, but that's a totally different horror story of its own, including garlic necklaces, countless horse shoes, and daily clover hunting trips.
He shrugged. Oh well. He just won't mention it tomorrow at dinner. Problem solved. Okay, so it really wasn't a problem so to say, but you never know, his mother might look at him and be able to recite everything he's done over the past week, which wouldn't be that interesting considering he never did anything
At the moment, Daffy duck was being chased by Elmer Fudd. A classic. Daffy runs and hides, but Fudd is always there somehow, rifle ready. Daffy gets his head blown off in a comical fashion, but due to his immortality, he survives for another beating. So simple, yet entertaining.
Every once in a while the infamous saying 'What's up Dock' rang from the set earning Gohan only the lone feeling of wanting a carrot to nibble on, but having to stand up to get one? He just wasn't in the mood to have to stand up and walk all the way over to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, tear a plastic bag containing the little orange things, wash it off, and walk all the way back here. It would be too hard, too much, but it if was chocolate...now that would be a different story. Instead, he picked up his sugarless glass of water and took another refreshing sip. Looking down at the table, he noticed a ring of condensation that had fallen from the beverage and was now residing on the table. Being the neat freak that his mother had taught him the be, Gohan set down the glass and wiped it off with his sleeve. It was just water. No harm done.
Leaning back into the couch, he noticed a good sized butt print was appearing on the cushion beneath. He quickly scooted over to the other side without standing up. A task only learned with experience.
If there was one thing that bugged him, it was a misused armchair. You must wear in the cushions evenly for maximum comfort. A lop-sided couch cushion... it's just not right.
Gohan inspected the mini crater in his sofa. Maybe his mother was right. He was eating too many cheeseburgers.
In the midst of deciding on weather or not to go on a diet, the doorbell rang.
The sound waves reverberated throughout the house creating an eerie silence once they were content with running around every room.
Perking his ears, he looked around and smoothed out the butt-print.
Reluctantly standing up, so not to be rude, but to possibly get the point across that he didn't want whoever was outside to be here, he slowly made his way to the entranceway, edgy but curious as to whom it could be. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was -he checked his watch- dinner time. He wouldn't miss dinner time for the world and thought anyone that did was crazy. Then again, maybe a crazy person with an ax was standing on the other side of his door waiting to hack his head off. You never do know these days. Especially in Los Angeles.
He shrugged.
With the door in his sight, he doesn't make any effort to get there any sooner than he had to. The person would just have to be patient.
Reaching the front double doors, Gohan extended his hand and clasped the door knob.
Cold.
A chill was sent down his spine resonating throughout his entire body. The door knob was frozen, but the coolness wasn't your average chill. It seemed different in a purely ' what are you thinking; after today? Hmph... average chill my butt' sense. From the experiences of earlier, Gohan became worried. These things shouldn't all be happening, at least not in the same 24 hour time-slot. Quickly he released the door knob expecting to see frost or a small amount of consolidation to appear on the devise due to its freakishly low temperature, but none was found. He stood there glaring at it, eyes wide. It still shone with the same shiny appearance of all door knobs, but it did seem a little too shiny. Hmm...maybe he shouldn't have used Windex.
Again, he reached out to open the oak door. Hand shaking, he once more attempted to open the entrance without receiving frost bite. Maybe he was the one who had his days of the week messed up. Maybe time was smarter than all of us, and the pattern for unlucky events strung throughout the cloth of time was much more complex than any woven fabric on this earth...tsht..yeah..right. Today was just a bad day. But bad days usually consist of getting in a car crash, getting dumped, getting beaten up, getting sick, getting fired, getting rejected, getting teased and humiliated, but not freakish chills that leave you frozen to the ground befuddled beyond comprehension.
Rapidly, he twisted the knob and flung the door open almost sending it off its hinges. He stared out onto the porch.
Nothing.
He looked down to make sure he's not being rude to a short person. He saw no midget circus clown and shrugged. Darn.
Cautiously, he took a few steps out into the night. He looked up, this time just to observe he night sky.
Black. Not a star shone in the sky due to the pending storm the Whether Channel had predicted. Heh, maybe they could get it right every now and then.
The smell in the air was flat. Not the usual fall scent of the salty ocean and decaying leaves, but the heavy smell of electrical charge brought on by the oncoming threat of a tempest. Anticipation.
The thickness of the air made him nauseous. Not even the slightest wind was brewing. Everything was still, stale.
He walked down the steps and inspected the nearby foliage to see if anyone was hiding or to expose a juvenile prankster. Rustling the bushes shadows inveloped his vision. Even if he wanted to find someone, something, he wouldn't have been able to. Shadows overtook all light coming from within his home. Darkness that only appears in nightmares.
Making his way back to the door, Gohan took a moment to scan the area. He stood in the middle of his yard, stone still. Eyes glancing back and forth from tree to tree, branch to branch, curb to curb. His hands curled up into fists. Something wasn't right. Yes, it could have been a prank, but no. No.
Giving up the stationary search, Gohan decided to do something his mother taught him when he was young. Find logic in any situation. Think it out. That is why he is even alive now. When he and his father were in danger, he would think it out logically and save their lives. With the adventurous lives they lived together, quick problem solving was always a major necessity. He hasn't been thinking. That must be part of the problem.
He determined that not only this situation, but the other occurrences of today, needed a good chunk of time to sort out. The single phantom door-bell ringer wouldn't have spooked him on an ordinary day, but this was no ordinary day.
Taking one last glance around the yard, Gohan turned around and began to walk up the stairs into his warm, cozy home.
The door was closed. Weird. He didn't remember closing it. No wind stirred, no man or animal could have done it....from the outside. Gohan looked around his shoulders, doing a full 360 spin on the steps. His bare feet were numb and his hands were shaking.
Soft. Something soft where soft should not be. Beneath his right foot lay something squishy, not necessarily soft anymore now that he thought about it. He looked down. Unable to see what it is due to the shadows, the wretched blackness. He bent down and placed his foot onto the concrete surface of his porch.
["How did this get here?" ]
oooooooh scawy beawr
Gohan sang along. Lustily. (teehee) He remembered the ominous roar of static and the strange phlegm voice that seemed to be calling his name from the radio, but now he found it difficult to believe that the peculiar incident had been as uncanny as it had seemed at the time. He had been upset by his conversation with his mother, feeling simultaneously put-upon and guilty, angry with her but also with himself, and his perception hadn't been entirely trustworthy. Plus, a hungry Saiyan's senses can never be trusted. The waterfall-roar of static had been real enough, but in his pall of guilt, he had no doubt imagined hearing his name in a meaningless gurgle and squeal of electronic garbage.
All the way home, he listened to old-time rock-'n'-roll, and he knew the words to every song. This was good.
Life sucks like a lolypop
Pulling into his driveway, his headlights shined brightly on the opening garage door that soon revealed a well kept garage with neat shelves and cupboards organized with tools, lawn equipment, and freaky house warming gifts his mother had given him a while back. His home was modest. It was two stories without a basement. He couldn't go all out because his family came first when it came to finances.
Closing the garage door, he walked inside and set his keys on the designated hook. Then he sluggishly dragged himself into the kitchen to grab a refreshing glass of water before heading upstairs to get to work. Sipping on his icy water he concluded that he would rather walk into the living room and relax for a moment first. It was a weird day, he deserved a break.
The carpet was a nice creamy white, the cushy and soft kind that you could squish between your toes. The couch was new and had yet to be worn in, but it was a good couch none the less. It had promise. The downstairs looked like your typical house with kitchen, bathroom, living and dining rooms. For his salary, it was a great home. Warm and cozy with a Kenmore heating and air-conditioning system...guarenteed to last for a life time.
Gohan set the half-empty glass on the wooden coffee table in front of him, thinking about turning on the television for a few moments to get his mind off of previous events.
He picked up the remote-control, switched on the TV, and decided on watching something comical. Flipping to cartoon network, he felt lucky to find a rather interesting cartoon on the three little bears...only the bears were seemingly high -on God knows what- and goldy locks was a prostitute in a red mini-skirt -who knows where she got that idea from... I hope not the granny-, but beside those 'minor' points, the show was able to squeeze a few chuckles out of the prude-ish Saiyan.
After about a half an hour, Gohan finally realized why little children would willingly get up a 4:30 am to watch such weird animation. It was absolutely fascinating. He must try it some time. Hell, he may as well go all the way and add the sugar coated cereal.
Gohan sat there enjoying himself, feeling that maybe today was just one of those fluke Friday the 13ths that got their days of the week messed up. In his mind, that made more sense than not, which was a good thing considering the many other ways he, or anyone else matter of factly, would have taken it. Especially his mother. By God. She probably would have called an exorcist or something and make him run around naked with mashed potatoes in his shoes, or whatever that ritual was. She would make him do it for sure -using her 'quiet before the storm' technique- and he could bet anything she would video-tape it. The special broadcast would most likely be held at Christmas. Dooms day...well unless the exorcist was unsuccessful, but that's a totally different horror story of its own, including garlic necklaces, countless horse shoes, and daily clover hunting trips.
He shrugged. Oh well. He just won't mention it tomorrow at dinner. Problem solved. Okay, so it really wasn't a problem so to say, but you never know, his mother might look at him and be able to recite everything he's done over the past week, which wouldn't be that interesting considering he never did anything
At the moment, Daffy duck was being chased by Elmer Fudd. A classic. Daffy runs and hides, but Fudd is always there somehow, rifle ready. Daffy gets his head blown off in a comical fashion, but due to his immortality, he survives for another beating. So simple, yet entertaining.
Every once in a while the infamous saying 'What's up Dock' rang from the set earning Gohan only the lone feeling of wanting a carrot to nibble on, but having to stand up to get one? He just wasn't in the mood to have to stand up and walk all the way over to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, tear a plastic bag containing the little orange things, wash it off, and walk all the way back here. It would be too hard, too much, but it if was chocolate...now that would be a different story. Instead, he picked up his sugarless glass of water and took another refreshing sip. Looking down at the table, he noticed a ring of condensation that had fallen from the beverage and was now residing on the table. Being the neat freak that his mother had taught him the be, Gohan set down the glass and wiped it off with his sleeve. It was just water. No harm done.
Leaning back into the couch, he noticed a good sized butt print was appearing on the cushion beneath. He quickly scooted over to the other side without standing up. A task only learned with experience.
If there was one thing that bugged him, it was a misused armchair. You must wear in the cushions evenly for maximum comfort. A lop-sided couch cushion... it's just not right.
Gohan inspected the mini crater in his sofa. Maybe his mother was right. He was eating too many cheeseburgers.
In the midst of deciding on weather or not to go on a diet, the doorbell rang.
The sound waves reverberated throughout the house creating an eerie silence once they were content with running around every room.
Perking his ears, he looked around and smoothed out the butt-print.
Reluctantly standing up, so not to be rude, but to possibly get the point across that he didn't want whoever was outside to be here, he slowly made his way to the entranceway, edgy but curious as to whom it could be. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was -he checked his watch- dinner time. He wouldn't miss dinner time for the world and thought anyone that did was crazy. Then again, maybe a crazy person with an ax was standing on the other side of his door waiting to hack his head off. You never do know these days. Especially in Los Angeles.
He shrugged.
With the door in his sight, he doesn't make any effort to get there any sooner than he had to. The person would just have to be patient.
Reaching the front double doors, Gohan extended his hand and clasped the door knob.
Cold.
A chill was sent down his spine resonating throughout his entire body. The door knob was frozen, but the coolness wasn't your average chill. It seemed different in a purely ' what are you thinking; after today? Hmph... average chill my butt' sense. From the experiences of earlier, Gohan became worried. These things shouldn't all be happening, at least not in the same 24 hour time-slot. Quickly he released the door knob expecting to see frost or a small amount of consolidation to appear on the devise due to its freakishly low temperature, but none was found. He stood there glaring at it, eyes wide. It still shone with the same shiny appearance of all door knobs, but it did seem a little too shiny. Hmm...maybe he shouldn't have used Windex.
Again, he reached out to open the oak door. Hand shaking, he once more attempted to open the entrance without receiving frost bite. Maybe he was the one who had his days of the week messed up. Maybe time was smarter than all of us, and the pattern for unlucky events strung throughout the cloth of time was much more complex than any woven fabric on this earth...tsht..yeah..right. Today was just a bad day. But bad days usually consist of getting in a car crash, getting dumped, getting beaten up, getting sick, getting fired, getting rejected, getting teased and humiliated, but not freakish chills that leave you frozen to the ground befuddled beyond comprehension.
Rapidly, he twisted the knob and flung the door open almost sending it off its hinges. He stared out onto the porch.
Nothing.
He looked down to make sure he's not being rude to a short person. He saw no midget circus clown and shrugged. Darn.
Cautiously, he took a few steps out into the night. He looked up, this time just to observe he night sky.
Black. Not a star shone in the sky due to the pending storm the Whether Channel had predicted. Heh, maybe they could get it right every now and then.
The smell in the air was flat. Not the usual fall scent of the salty ocean and decaying leaves, but the heavy smell of electrical charge brought on by the oncoming threat of a tempest. Anticipation.
The thickness of the air made him nauseous. Not even the slightest wind was brewing. Everything was still, stale.
He walked down the steps and inspected the nearby foliage to see if anyone was hiding or to expose a juvenile prankster. Rustling the bushes shadows inveloped his vision. Even if he wanted to find someone, something, he wouldn't have been able to. Shadows overtook all light coming from within his home. Darkness that only appears in nightmares.
Making his way back to the door, Gohan took a moment to scan the area. He stood in the middle of his yard, stone still. Eyes glancing back and forth from tree to tree, branch to branch, curb to curb. His hands curled up into fists. Something wasn't right. Yes, it could have been a prank, but no. No.
Giving up the stationary search, Gohan decided to do something his mother taught him when he was young. Find logic in any situation. Think it out. That is why he is even alive now. When he and his father were in danger, he would think it out logically and save their lives. With the adventurous lives they lived together, quick problem solving was always a major necessity. He hasn't been thinking. That must be part of the problem.
He determined that not only this situation, but the other occurrences of today, needed a good chunk of time to sort out. The single phantom door-bell ringer wouldn't have spooked him on an ordinary day, but this was no ordinary day.
Taking one last glance around the yard, Gohan turned around and began to walk up the stairs into his warm, cozy home.
The door was closed. Weird. He didn't remember closing it. No wind stirred, no man or animal could have done it....from the outside. Gohan looked around his shoulders, doing a full 360 spin on the steps. His bare feet were numb and his hands were shaking.
Soft. Something soft where soft should not be. Beneath his right foot lay something squishy, not necessarily soft anymore now that he thought about it. He looked down. Unable to see what it is due to the shadows, the wretched blackness. He bent down and placed his foot onto the concrete surface of his porch.
["How did this get here?" ]
oooooooh scawy beawr