Disclaimer: I don't own the great Gatsby. Either F. Scott Fitzgerald does
or his copyright company. On second thought, I don't think he DOES own it.
It is my understanding that he is no longer living.
A/N: Yes, yes, I KNOW. If you are a follower of my writings (do those type
of people even exist?) then you will realize that this is my ELEVENTH story
that I have started. This one, like the others, is in progress. Total, I
have one story completed and the others are in the works. Anywho, as far as
THIS story goes, it's best not to ask. I had an extra notebook and this
seemed to be the best thing to fill it. Plus there were no other Gatsby
stories that were humor. Please R/R!
Chapter 1, Six Shots
Wilson sighed as he watched from behind the bushes as Jay floated on a raft. He knew that he was dangerously close as he pulled the gun out of his pocket. He also knew that if he were to miss, Gatsby would surely escape.
Gatsby. the man name made him grimace. He was the one who had mercilessly killed his wife. Didn't even stop, just like road kill. He would make his wife's murderer pay dearly, and it would still not be enough to satisfy his need for vengeance. He stepped out of the bushes as the wind blew Jay's raft away from his position. He stepped to the edge of the pool, aiming carefully. He felt his finger begin to apply slight pressure to the trigger. All would be done soon.
Angela sighed as she walked up to the house that was next on her list. How did she ever get roped into inviting all of the people in New York to her Mom and step dad's wedding personally? 'Oh, wait, now I remember,' she thought as she rang the doorbell. 'So sue me. I thought the invitations were scrap paper! She shouldn't have left them lying out in a pile like that. I needed the paper for the stupid art project and-'
"Hello?" The man who answered the door was tall and looked a bit distracted. Of course, Angela didn't notice that as she began to drone out the greeting that was drilled into her skull at this point.
"Good day. I am here to announce that you have been cordially invited to-" she was cut off suddenly as a gun shot rang from somewhere in the vicinity of the house next door. It was followed by five more shots, accompanied by a loud splash. "For the love of. Oh well, shall we see what all the noise is?" The owner of the house looked at her like she was crazy. He grabbed his keys, locked the door, and ran next door to his neighbor's backyard. Angela followed.
They made their way up a hill which revealed behind it Gatsby's pool. Gatsby was still floating on his raft, though he looked dazed and confused. There was a figure standing by the pool, holding a gun. Angela gaped as she ran up to stand beside the figure, knowing the revolver could only carry the six previously fired shots.
Nick, the owner of the house next to Gatsby's, ran up the hill, panting as he made his way to the side of the pool. "Jay! Jay, what happened?" he asked, frantic with worry. He noted that there was no blood in the pool around Gatsby.
"I can't say that I know for sure, Old Sport. Why don't you ask her?"
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know, not very humorous, right? Wait 'til you read chapter two! That will probably be posted by Friday at the latest. Kinda short compared to my other fics, too, but that's okay. Hope to get reviews soon!
Chapter 1, Six Shots
Wilson sighed as he watched from behind the bushes as Jay floated on a raft. He knew that he was dangerously close as he pulled the gun out of his pocket. He also knew that if he were to miss, Gatsby would surely escape.
Gatsby. the man name made him grimace. He was the one who had mercilessly killed his wife. Didn't even stop, just like road kill. He would make his wife's murderer pay dearly, and it would still not be enough to satisfy his need for vengeance. He stepped out of the bushes as the wind blew Jay's raft away from his position. He stepped to the edge of the pool, aiming carefully. He felt his finger begin to apply slight pressure to the trigger. All would be done soon.
Angela sighed as she walked up to the house that was next on her list. How did she ever get roped into inviting all of the people in New York to her Mom and step dad's wedding personally? 'Oh, wait, now I remember,' she thought as she rang the doorbell. 'So sue me. I thought the invitations were scrap paper! She shouldn't have left them lying out in a pile like that. I needed the paper for the stupid art project and-'
"Hello?" The man who answered the door was tall and looked a bit distracted. Of course, Angela didn't notice that as she began to drone out the greeting that was drilled into her skull at this point.
"Good day. I am here to announce that you have been cordially invited to-" she was cut off suddenly as a gun shot rang from somewhere in the vicinity of the house next door. It was followed by five more shots, accompanied by a loud splash. "For the love of. Oh well, shall we see what all the noise is?" The owner of the house looked at her like she was crazy. He grabbed his keys, locked the door, and ran next door to his neighbor's backyard. Angela followed.
They made their way up a hill which revealed behind it Gatsby's pool. Gatsby was still floating on his raft, though he looked dazed and confused. There was a figure standing by the pool, holding a gun. Angela gaped as she ran up to stand beside the figure, knowing the revolver could only carry the six previously fired shots.
Nick, the owner of the house next to Gatsby's, ran up the hill, panting as he made his way to the side of the pool. "Jay! Jay, what happened?" he asked, frantic with worry. He noted that there was no blood in the pool around Gatsby.
"I can't say that I know for sure, Old Sport. Why don't you ask her?"
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know, not very humorous, right? Wait 'til you read chapter two! That will probably be posted by Friday at the latest. Kinda short compared to my other fics, too, but that's okay. Hope to get reviews soon!