uChapter Six: Reeling/u
(She is very purty, Mr. Rainey.)
:::Not again. Fuck those drugs! Clementine!:::
"Clementine," I say.
:::Clementine! No!:::
(Keep your mouth shut, Mr. Rainey. Or I jus' might have to hurt Miss Clementine, here.)
"Mort, what's up with the accent?" she asks.
"This is jus' how I talk, Miss Clementine," I say.
"Shooter," she whispers. She tries to run, but I block her way. She ain't gettin' out a this house now.
"Good guess," I whisper back, jus' inches from her face. "Good guess." (She's a feisty li'l thing, ain't she Mr. Rainey?)
:::You bastard! Let go of her!:::
(Why I ain't touchin' her yet, Mr. Rainey.) I hold her up against the wall of the house and move my head closer.
"Mort," she whispers. I smile, leaning closer. She cracks her forehead on mine, and I reel backwards for a second. But that ain't gonna stop me.
"That was a very, bad, idea, Clementine," I say, advancing on her once again. In the second she had she ran out to the front door, but I got her, jus' before she got there.
:::Shooter! Shooter!:::
(You tryin' to distract me, Mr Rainey? Well that ain't gonna work.) Now we're very close, and I can feel her breathin'.
"You ain't gonna 'scape me, Miss Clementine," I say, pushin' her backwards.
:::Shooter! Shooter!:::
(Clementine's mine, Mr. Rainey.) She takes summat from Mr. Rainey's table and hits me over the head with it. I fall, and she makes her escape. Runs down to her car and drives away, while I watch from the door. Next time, Clementine, next time. You won't be so lucky.
(She is very purty, Mr. Rainey.)
:::Not again. Fuck those drugs! Clementine!:::
"Clementine," I say.
:::Clementine! No!:::
(Keep your mouth shut, Mr. Rainey. Or I jus' might have to hurt Miss Clementine, here.)
"Mort, what's up with the accent?" she asks.
"This is jus' how I talk, Miss Clementine," I say.
"Shooter," she whispers. She tries to run, but I block her way. She ain't gettin' out a this house now.
"Good guess," I whisper back, jus' inches from her face. "Good guess." (She's a feisty li'l thing, ain't she Mr. Rainey?)
:::You bastard! Let go of her!:::
(Why I ain't touchin' her yet, Mr. Rainey.) I hold her up against the wall of the house and move my head closer.
"Mort," she whispers. I smile, leaning closer. She cracks her forehead on mine, and I reel backwards for a second. But that ain't gonna stop me.
"That was a very, bad, idea, Clementine," I say, advancing on her once again. In the second she had she ran out to the front door, but I got her, jus' before she got there.
:::Shooter! Shooter!:::
(You tryin' to distract me, Mr Rainey? Well that ain't gonna work.) Now we're very close, and I can feel her breathin'.
"You ain't gonna 'scape me, Miss Clementine," I say, pushin' her backwards.
:::Shooter! Shooter!:::
(Clementine's mine, Mr. Rainey.) She takes summat from Mr. Rainey's table and hits me over the head with it. I fall, and she makes her escape. Runs down to her car and drives away, while I watch from the door. Next time, Clementine, next time. You won't be so lucky.