Valentine’s Day Encounter

Gary wiped his nose on the left sleeve of his t-shirt as he carried his twelve pack of Milwaukee’s Beast in one hand and smoked his off off brand of the week cigarette in the other.  The twelve pack would have been getting heavy, but Gary had decided it was easier to carry a few of them beers on the inside, saving his arms.  This was turning out to be a real crummy Valentine’s Day.  Even the prostitute he usually used was busy doing some free lance work on the holiday.  Gary couldn’t wait to get so stupid drunk that he wouldn’t wake up until Valentine’s was over.

Gary was about to lighten his load again when suddenly he heard that noise.  He has heard it on and off for the past year, but he always blamed it on the beer.  He began looking around, trying to see what could be making such a weird noise.  It always happened when he was alone.

Suddenly a light appeared to be falling from the sky.  As it got closer Gary began blinking his eyes rapidly.  He knew his eyes, or the beer combined with those awful cigarettes must be playing tricks on him.  At least that’s what he kept telling himself as what he could only describe as a spaceship hovered twenty feet overhead.  The worst part about the whole thing was that Gary was having a déjà vu feeling.  He ran for the forest, but the craft moved impossibly fast, cutting him off.  Gary slowly backed up, his beer and cigarette held in front of him as charms to ward off this evil spirit.  The spaceship was about the size of an eighteen wheeler and glowed faintly green.  The hairs on his arm stood on end, the world turned blue, and then suddenly Gary blacked out.

When Gary came to, he was naked with a box on his lap.  The empties from what had once been his twelve pack were scattered around him in a circle that faintly reminded Gary of that Stonehenge place he had watched on the Discovery Channel a couple of years back.  The thought of missing out on drinking all those beers almost made Gary cry.  Gary opened the box hoping that maybe there would be a beer or two that had survived.  Unfortunately he revealed only an array of chocolates, a single red rose, slightly smooshed from being inside the box, and a folded note.  The note read, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.  You were so good, we thought we should buy you chocolates and a rose.  Love, GRA$@G34q’

Gary began to cry.  At least someone loved him.

Mistaken Identity part 2

John shimmied on the chaise to get comfortable.  “My father had had a heart attack.  He was at St. Bonaventure, so I decided to visit him,” he said.

“Okay, so what does this have to do with babies?” asked Sarah.

“Well, I’m getting there Doc.  You’ve got to understand.  I hate hospitals,” John said.

“It is perfectly normal to feel that way, John.  It is a very common emotion,” Sarah said.  “A lot of people don’t like to be reminded that they are one step away from a life changing illness or accident.”

“That’s not exactly my problem Doc.  Let me finish my story,” he said.

“Go right on ahead,” Sarah said.  “Tell me your story.”

John entered the hospital with trepidation, carrying a small flowering plant of some kind and a bright yellow metallic helium balloon reading “Get Well Soon”.  The security guard at the entrance smiled and waved.  John waved back, but focused his attention down the hallway toward the elevators.  He was about to make a sprint walk for them when a young man grabbed his arm.

“Doctor, you’ve got to help me,” the young man said.  “My wife is in labor.”

John looked to the security guard for help.  The guard was already picking up the phone and dialing.  John felt a bit relieved that help was on the way.  He turned to the young man and said, “You’ve got the wrong guy.  I’m sure someone-“

The young man interrupted John.  “I know you’re not her doctor, but she needs someone now.”

The guard put down the phone and gave John a thumbs up.  “I called maternity and told them you were on the way with the mom to be.  I’ll go grab the wheelchair.”

John let go of the balloon and watched it drift to the ceiling.  He handed the plant to the young man.  “Let’s go get your wife,” John said.

Sarah stopped writing and looked at John incredulously.  “Okay, wait.  So you impersonated a doctor?  Do you realize how much trouble you could get into?” asked Sarah.

John rolled onto his side so he could look at her.  “Well I figured that unless I did something the poor woman was going to have the baby in the car because no one else was coming,” he said.

“Carmine, don’t you think you’re pushing the truth just a little here?” asked Sarah.

“I’m John,” he said.

“Sorry.  I don’t know why I keep making that mistake,” Sarah said.

John laid back onto the chaise.  “That’s why I’m here,” he said in a soft voice.  “That’s why I’m telling you this story.”

“Okay.  Let’s see where this goes.  Please continue,” Sarah said.

John, the young man, and the security guard rushed out of the hospital and into the cool night.  A young and very pregnant woman was sitting in a Honda Civic with the passenger door open.  Her eyes were clenched shut and her breathing was rapid and shallow.  John and the young man danced around each other like two of the Marx brothers, trying to figure out how to help the pregnant woman get out of the car.  Finally her contraction passed, and she was able to lever herself out of the vehicle without either man’s help.  The security guard held the wheelchair steady as John and the young man were able to maneuver the pregnant woman into it.  She managed to sit before the next contraction hit.

John had watched enough television to know that having contractions that close to each other meant the baby has almost there.  He patted her shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  Woman have been doing this since the beginning of time.  I’m sure this will be simple.”

“We’re having twins,” replied the young man.

John felt like he had got slapped across the face.  When he came to he looked to the security guard.  “You heard the man,” John said.  “She’s about to have twins.  Let’s go!”

The security guard took off at a fast walk.  John looked like he was about to run the opposite direction, but then he caught sight of the young man looking at him with desperation, so he followed the guard inside.  The guard swiped his badge at the elevator and the lift came immediately.  The four of them piled into the elevator and the guard hit the button for the eighth floor.  As the elevator ascended, an awkward silence descended on the three men.  The pregnant woman didn’t care as she dealt with her contraction.

Finally the doors opened and two nurses hurried to rescue the pregnant woman from the three men.  The young man slapped John on the back and headed after his wife who was being pushed by one of the nurses.  The second nurse looked back at John.  “Well are you coming Doctor Crane?” she asked.

John looked at the security guard, but the security guard just gave him a thumbs up.  John shook his head and walked off the elevator.  “She’s having twins,” John said.

The nurse fell in beside John, following the retreating wheel chair.  “Then I guess we’re playing a double header tonight,” the nurse said.

John paused mid step, then laughed.  “That’s a good one,” he said.

“Are you okay Doctor Crane?” asked the nurse.

John nodded.  “Let’s go play ball,” he said.

Sarah stopped him there.   “So you are telling me you delivered twins?” she asked.

“Well, it was twins, so they called in another doctor to assist me,” John said.

“Assist?” Sarah asked as she kept writing.

John tried to ignore the question, but when Sarah refused to say more for a minute, John filled in the silence.  “Okay, so she did the actual delivery, but the babies were so cute.”

John held a baby in each arm.  The proud mother and father beamed with happiness.  John smiled down at the little ones.  “They’re perfect,” he said to the new parents.  Just then both babies began to cry and looked like they were looking for John’s nipples.  “Oh no, not again,” he said.  He quickly gave the babies back to their mother.  “You feed them.”


Sarah shook her head in disbelief, but continued to write.  John laughs.  “That ended much better than before,” he said.

“Did you ever get to visit your father?” Sarah asked.

That stopped John from laughing. “I did.  I even got to deliver my plant.  The balloon stayed in the lobby though,” John said.

“Do you regret that decision?” asked Sarah.

John paused in thought.  “I was close to my dad,” John said.  “He was always there for me.”

“What does that have to do with the balloon?” asked Sarah.

“That is a good question,” said John.

The Double D’s (a 100 word monologue)

I have looked into the face of Defeat, and I have laughed.  Defeat then punched me in the face and asked if I still thought it was still funny as I fell to the ground.

So now I am looking at the feet of Defeat, and I chuckle again because the feet of Defeat just sounds silly.  Defeat does not take too kindly to this and makes sure I get a close up of Defeat’s feet as Defeat kicks me in the teeth.

I just hope tomorrow I can still find my teeth, because I have a date with Destiny.

Mistaken Identity (part 1)

The leather chaise took up most of the floor, but left a couple of pacing lanes open.  The room was surrounded by dark wooden shelves that held books, knickknacks and the occasional picture of something ocean related.  The room was warm, but was as personal as a very nice funeral home.  The desk was at an angle to the chaise and behind it was one of those large captain’s chairs that looked like it could swallow the woman who normally sat in it.  Sarah Collins was currently sitting in a much more modest chair set next to the head of the chaise.  Her blonde hair had started to escape out from the tight bun she corralled the rest into.   Sarah kept tapping the top of a spiral bound notebook with her pen like a metronome that was a bit off.

“So do you have any gender issues?” Sarah asked.

John Smith sat up from where he had been lying on the chaise.  John was the poster child of average.  Criminal sketch artists practiced John’s portrait without even knowing why they did it.  He had no identifying marks or traits.  Everything John did screamed of blending in, something he did well. Actually John did it too well.  That was why he was here.

“Doc, I know I’m man.  I’ve never had an issue with that,” John said.

Sarah stopped tapping and pointed the pen at John.  “No, I mean has anyone mistaken you as a woman?  You tell me everyone mistakes you for someone else.  Does this occur cross gender?” Sarah asked.

John thought about that for a moment.  “I don’t think so, I mean.”  John paused and then his eyes lit up.  “Okay, yes there were a couple of times. “

Sarah put pen to paper.  “Continue then Carmine.  Tell me about it,” she said.

“Doc, my name is John,” John said.

Sarah hastily wrote something down in her notebook.  “Sorry,” she said.  “I was mistaken.  Please continue.”

John paused, then laid back down on the chaise.  “Well it all started when I went for a loan at the bank.  I figured I could use my gift for my advantage.”

“That doesn’t sound too ethical, John,” Sarah said.

“Well, I needed some money so I figured I would give it a shot,” John said.


John sat in the bank lobby, dressed in a really bad suit and tie.  He had the start of sweat stains blooming through the jacket.  He kept looking at the loan office where a young couple with a small baby was talking to an imposing loan officer behind the glass doors.  John tried to lip read, but after thinking the woman had to grow an avocado he gave up on that.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” asked a female voice from behind him.  John turned to see the woman who had pointed him to where he currently waited.  She was pouring a cup already, and the smell made John’s stomach rumble.

“No thank you,” John said.  “This loan thing has me pretty nervous.  I don’t need to embarrass myself with having caffeine jitters kick in.”

The woman pasted on a smile and saluted him with her coffee cup before returning to her desk.  John watched her go while he listened to his stomach lodge a formal complaint.  John wondered why didn’t just accept the coffee and dealt with the consequences.  He had just made his mind up to give into his stomach when he heard the glass door opened.  He spun his head back around to see the young woman walk off towards the restrooms.  That left the man holding the baby.

Even with the glass door closed, John could hear the baby starting up the sound works.  The loan officer began talking with his hands more, and the man holding the baby used the kid to try to make his point, but all the charades were lost amid the tears of the screaming child.  Finally the man looked out into the waiting room and fixated on John.

John tried to avoid eye contact, but it was too late.  The man got up and pushed his way through the glass door.  The full effect of the sonic attack by the baby was unleashed upon the bank.  John was sure that the ceiling was about to cave in due to the assault of sound waves.  The man almost sprinted to where John was sitting.

“Mary, that was fast.  Why didn’t you come back in?” the man asked over the screaming child.

John held his hands out in front of him in protest.  “Look, I’m not,” was all he could say before the man was shoving the baby into John’s hands.

“Give Maddie a little to eat, and then come back in.  I’ll work on the paperwork until she’s happier,” the man said.  John had to grab the Maddie because the man let her go.  The man gave the baby a kiss on the forehead and then planted a quick kiss on John’s cheek.  The man turned to go back into the office.

“Wait,” said John.  “Where’s the bottle?”

The man laughed.  “Funny woman.  Just give Maddie a breast and then get back in here.  It’s only our future at stake,” he said.  With that the man reentered the glass fishbowl of an office.

John looked down at the screaming child.  “Come on Maddie.  Calm down little girl,” he said.  The baby opened her eyes and stopped screaming.  John immediately relaxed, but Maddie started up again, but this time she took her screaming to military jet afterburner levels.  John tried to insert his pinky into her mouth, but the baby immediately spit it out and screamed even louder.  John looked around for her mother, but she must have still been in the restroom.  The woman from the bank was looking annoyed.  John felt his world shrinking down to just him and this mass of solid sound he was holding.  John became desperate to make it stop.  His hand drifted to the buttons on his shirt.


Sarah paused in her note taking.  “So how did that go?” she asked.

John looked uncomfortable on the couch.  He muttered something.

“What did you say?” asked Sarah.


John jumped up from where he had been sitting, twisting to the bank woman for help.  Maddie was attached to his left nipple and John looked like he was about to pass out.  “Get it off!” he screamed.  “Get it off!”


“Overall I think I handled it well,” John said.

Sarah put her pen into the spiral part of the notebook.  “If you can’t be serious, Carmine, I mean John, then how am I supposed to help you?” she said.

“I am being honest,” John said.  “You’ve got to believe me.”

“You must admit that seems a bit farfetched,” Sarah said.

John nodded.  “I know Doc, but that’s why I’ve come here.  I know I need your help.”

Sarah took back out her pen.  “Okay.  Let’s leave that story for a moment,” she said.  “Have you had any other dealings with babies that you want to share?”

John shuddered.  “Yeah, there was this other time…”

Like a Girl

Tony looked at the girl standing in front of him.  She was all hard angles, not a curve in sight, except for the nose.  Even her short hair was cut at severe hard angles.  The most severe things were her eyes, which right now were locked on Tony’s.  Tony couldn’t help but feel the ferocity emanating from this young lady.

“Look, I’m sorry that I thought you were a boy,” Tony said trying to play it off.  “You could think of that as a compliment.”

“What if I called you a girl?” she asked, her hands taking up offensive positions at her hips.  “Would you like that compliment?”

Tony began to laugh, but then thought better of it, but it was too late.  He could tell those first chuckles cemented him as public enemy number one in her eyes.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to be insulting,” Tony said.  “It’s just that you don’t look like a…”  Tony paused as his brain ran out words that it thought were safe to say.

“Is that all a girl is to you?  Is it just a look?” she asked.  The girl put the dreaded air quote with that last question.

Tony realized there was no winning this situation.  “Look, if you can’t take a joke just leave,” he said.

The girl took two steps forward and kicked him in the crotch.  Tony‘s privates screamed surrender and his knees agreed and folded, taking Tony to the ground with them.

The girl took one step back and smiled defiantly.  “How’s that for a girl?” she asked.  Tony had no immediate rebuttal since all his thoughts were being delayed by the train wreck that had happened in his nether region.  The girl took his quiet moaning as a sign of victory, and she strutted away in triumph.

When Tony could finally think again he watched all those angles walk away and thought, “Well, she doesn’t kick like a girl.”

Blame It On the Train

The train called in the distance, and Thomas’ soul heard that cry.  Thomas wished he had brought his wooden train whistle, but he had left it at home since he was worried about how the cold would affect the reed inside the thing.  The cold was one of the reasons he waited in his idling car just past the tracks themselves.

Thomas’ palms began to get sweaty.  The train whistle grew louder.  The railway crossing gates closed down, their red lights flashing back and forth.  Thomas got out of his car and looked up the tracks.  There was the train.  Thomas readied his phone and looked back at the train.  It was now or never.  He took off at a dead run.  He weaved his way past the first gate and stopped dead center on the tracks.  The train whistle went off as well as the sound of the brakes being applied, but there was no way that train was going to stop in time.  Thomas lifted his right hand, smiled and pressed the button.  The flash blinded him.  The screeching brakes reminded him he had mere moments.  Thomas jumped out of the way as the concussive force of the air being pushed out of the way by the train buffeted him.  It caused him to land awkwardly and tumble to the ground.

Thomas quickly regained his feet and hobbled to his car.  He put the car in drive and squealed the tires as he raced off.  Looking at his phone, Thomas saw the picture of his selfie in front of the train and smiled.  There was a picture of him cheating death.  Thomas would mount it on his wall, proving to himself that he could do anything and survive, but first he wanted to post it on Instagram.  A couple of button presses later and bam, he smashed into the tree where he had wandered off the road.  At least the picture uploaded first.  Thomas’ friends had a great picture for the calling hours.

Scared Straight part 3

Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder as he sat in a chair across a small table from a man the size of a small battleship.  The man had no hair that Jimmy could see and somehow it made the man look even bigger.  Jimmy tried his staring into the eyes trick, but the man wouldn’t look straight at him.  After what seemed like five minutes of silence, Timmy decided to break the ice.  “So how often do you…”

“Shush,” said the man in a shouted whisper.  The man put a finger less than an inch away from Timmy’s nose and he wagged it back and forth.  “Fresh meat isn’t allowed to talk.”

Timmy sat back to put more room between him and the finger.  “You’ve got to be joking me,” Timmy said.

The man slammed his hand down onto the table, the sound reminding Timmy of a handgun he had once shot.  “I said shush,” the man said in a bit more full voice but still not much above a whisper.  “You need to know your place when you’re inside.”

Timmy was amazed the table hadn’t broken in two.  He smiled at the man and slammed his hand into the table as well.  The sound wasn’t as impressive, but Timmy was impressed nevertheless.

The man balled his huge hands into fists.  “What the hell was that about?” he shouted.

Timmy smiled.  “Why should I let you have all the fun?” Timmy asked.  Timmy stood up and began to walk away.

“Sit down you piece of shit!” yelled the man   “I’m not done with you yet.”

Timmy whipped around, and his voice became a forceful whisper.  “Shush,”

The man stood quickly, way too quickly for a man of that size.  The table went flying to the right and crashed into the wall.  “You.  Do.  Not.  Shush.  Me,” the man said.

“What are you going to do to me?” Timmy asked.  He tried to puff out his chest, making him look as big as he could.

The man marched right up to Timmy, forcing Timmy to bend back to look the man in the face.  Still the man would not meet Jimmy’s eyes. “You don’t want me to start,” the man said.

“You can’t do jack.  If you even touch me they’ll slap you so hard your grandkids will feel it,” Timmy said.

The man chuckled.  “I’m a lifer you little piece of shit,” the man said.  “They can’t slap me anymore.  All I can do is feel some pain.  Sort of like this.”  The man grabbed Timmy’s sore shoulder and squeezed.  The pain almost made Timmy pass out, but he rode the pain and channeled it into laughter.  The laughter earned him more pain, but that just created more laughter.

The man released his grip and Timmy dropped to his knees, the laughter subsiding as the sharp pain receded to a dull throbbing.   “What the hell,” said the man.  He reached down and picked Timmy up off the floor and then kept lifting till Timmy was at almost at eye level. “What is wrong with you kid?”

Timmy finally locked eyes with the guy.  The guy almost recoiled as if he had been head butted.  He dropped Timmy like he was poisonous.  Timmy pointed at the discarded table.  “Pick it up,” Timmy said.

The man squeezed his hands into fists three times while making sure to look anywhere but at Timmy’s eyes.  Finally he moved over to the battered table and picked it up.  He placed it back where it had been and sat back down.  He silently gestured to Timmy’s chair.

Timmy purposely kept his smile repressed as he moved back to his seat.  He quietly gestured for the man to talk.  The man looked at his huge hands, but finally began to speak.  “You really shouldn’t have come here,” the man said.

Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder.  “Tell me about it,” Timmy said.  “That prick Hobbs tried to break my arm.”

The man eagerly looked at Timmy.  “Want me to make sure he regrets it?” the man asked.  “I’ll do it.  He’s on my shit list already.  He was screwing around with someone on my crew.  Not someone who is important so I didn’t do anything, but messing with you…”

Timmy shook his head.  “Not yet Simon,” he said.  Simon looked disappointed.  All the rage seemed to be exhaled in one long sigh.  Timmy looked at Simon with predatory eyes.  “But I am glad they decided to have you be the one to scare me.  You were pretty convincing.“

Simon perked up.  “Thanks.  I try to be.  It keeps most of the other idiots at arm’s length.  The rest of them have some kind of mental problem.  Once I know that they have a bleeding problem.  After that I don’t have any more problems.”

“So what do we do next?” asked Timmy.

“They’re supposed to come get us in a bit, and you’re supposed to be all ready to piss yourself.  After that they will cut you lose with a promise that this is your future if you don’t do something about it,” Simon said.

Timmy noticed as Simon kept talking that he seemed to deflate.  Simon was still a big man, but that emotional rage somehow made Simon appear bigger.  That was something Timmy would need to remember.  It was a cool trick.  “So what do you think I should do?” asked Timmy.

Simon smiled a very chilling smile.  “That’s up to you, boss.  What are you going to do?” he asked.

Timmy liked the way Simon was smiling.  He joined him in that cold grin.  “I think I’m going to do something different alright.”

Simon’s grin faltered for just a moment before being pasted back on, and Timmy didn’t blame Simon one bit.

Paradise Unwanted

Dale looked out over the turquoise blue waters of the southern Pacific Ocean and wondered how many people back home in the snow and cold infested state of Maine would trade places with him right now.  He bet it would be almost the whole state, until they realized that they were stranded on a small patch of paradise.  Dale wandered back into the surf and out to the remains of his boat.  He grabbed a few more cans of food and moved back to the beach.  The tide was coming in and Dale didn’t know how many more times he would be able to make the run before the boat finished tearing itself apart on the volcanic rock.

The sun was setting, painting the horizon a riot of reds fading to purples.  This was the fourth such spectacle, and Dale loved each one.  He put the cans under the coconut tree with the other eight weeks or so of provisions.  Good thing he was early on this leg of his journey to sail around the world solo.  What would have happened if he had gone through most of his provisions?  Of course, if he didn’t flag down a passing ship it really wouldn’t matter if he died of exposure or starvation this week or eight weeks from now.

Dale took a deep drink from the fresh water spring that fed a tiny stream.  The water tasted heavily of sulfur, but when the tropical sun beats down on you for twelve hours, every bit of moisture helps.  He spent the rest of his waning light gathering up junk and debris that washed up on his little private beach.  It was amazing that the human footprint on the environment followed him even here latterly in the middle of nowhere.

As the sun gave way to a moonless night, Dale looked up at the starry night, amazed that there was so much up there.  It made him feel even smaller than he did being the only human on a tiny patch of sand.  While it was amazing, he thought back to those snows in Maine and the life he had left there.  What he wouldn’t give to trade places with someone in all that snow and cold.  Instead he shivered in loneliness and tried to fall asleep.   Being in paradise was not without its cost.

Speed of Chocolate

I was looking for a bit of buy in, but Alex wasn’t about to cash out just yet.

“So you’re telling me that we can calculate the speed of light with a microwave and a candy bar?” Alex asked.

I nodded.  “That and a glass of water, a ruler and a calculator, isn’t that cool?” I asked.

Alex took two steps back, his arms waving in front of him.  “Oh no, that’s insane,” he said.

“Why are you freaking out?” I asked.  “It’s just an experiment.”

“I only have one more candy bar.  If I use it up no more chocolate for me till next week when mom goes to the store,” he responded.

“Just give me the chocolate and go get the ruler,” I said.  “We’re going to calculate the speed of light for goodness sakes.”

Alex reluctantly handed the chocolate bar to me.  “Are you sure this is going to work?” he asked.

“Of course,” I answered.  “It was on Facebook.  It has to be true.”  Alex seemed a bit more at ease now that the chocolate was out of his grasp.  I opened it up and took the chocolate out of its wrapper.  “Now go get the ruler,” I said.

Alex lumbered off and I set the rest of my experiment up.  I made sure to have the microwave closed by the time he got back.

Alex handed me the ruler.  “So what’s next?” he asked.

I paused for a minute, digesting my thoughts.  “You run the microwave for ten seconds.  I’ll be right back with the calculator that you forgot.” I said.

Alex got a little upset.  “You didn’t tell me you needed the calculator,” he said.

“You’re right,” I admitted.  “I’ll go get it.  Be right back.”

I ran to our room and went right past to the back door.  I let myself out quietly and was two steps away when I heard a scream.  I took off at a dead run, but Alex beat me to the gate to the front of the house.

“Where is my candy bar?” Alex screamed at me.

“It was in the microwave,” I said.

Alex shoved me to the ground.  “Uh-uh,” he said.  “That was just a glass of water.”

I tried to roll to my feet, but Alex pinned me to the ground.  He began to give me a noogie.  “Okay, okay, you win, that wasn’t your chocolate,” I said trying to defend myself.

Alex stopped for a moment.  “So where’s my chocolate?” he asked.

“It left at the speed of light,” I said.

“Speed of light?” Alex asked.

“Sure.  What happens to an object falling into a black hole?” I asked hoping he would fall for it.

“It speeds up till it is going at light speed,” Alex said smugly.  “I learned that watching YouTube.”

“Right.  You were paying attention,” I said as I wiggled a bit and he let me up.  I had only one shot at this.

“So what does that have to do with a microwave and a ruler and calculator?” Alex asked.

I leaned closer.  “You forgot the glass of water,” I said.

Alex pushed me out of his personal space.  I roll with it, taking a couple steps back.  “Who cares about the glass of stupid water.  How does that allow you to calculate the speed of light?” he asks.

“Simple.  By you doing all that, a small black hole appeared and sucked in the chocolate,” I said.

“Now you’re going to get beat,” Alex said stepping closer.  I took one step back, trying to maintain the same distance between us.

“No really,” I said.  “I can show you.”

Alex stopped and crossed his arms.  “Okay, you have one chance.  Show me.”

I took one more step back, opened my mouth wide, and pointed down my throat.  “See, right there is the black hole,” I said.

Before Alex could react I was off at full speed.  I was so glad I was a sprinter, or Alex would have shot putted me, and I might have seen light speed then since I am sure my lights would have gone out.

Scared Straight Part 2

Timmy looked around the hole and shivered, not from being scared, but from the cold.  He picked up the threadbare blanket that was one to two soft objects in this place of steel and concrete and wrapped it around his shoulders.  He began pacing his cell.  Four strides in length, three strides in width, it had a small flat barred window about ten feet up, right by the ceiling letting in a tiny bit of sunlight to supplement the flickering fluorescent centered on the ceiling.

The bed, sink, and toilet were all made of concrete.  The only other source of comfort beside the blanket was the small thin mattress on the bed.  Jimmy sat down on it and laughed.  It was almost as hard as the concrete below it.  The one door had a small slot at the bottom and a larger slot at the top that could be moved by the guard.  Right now both were closed off.

Timmy began to sing at the top of his lungs all the children’s nursery rhymes he could think of.  The place had great acoustics.  After about a half hour of that, Timmy began jogging in circles.  It helped him get a bit warmer.  He tied the blanket around his neck so it fluttered behind him like a superhero.  That only lasted for a few minutes till Timmy got bored with that.  He sat down on the bed in a lotus position and meditated.

After an indeterminate amount of time a different guard pulled back the top slider.  He saw Timmy not moving, his back against the wall with the blanket tied around his neck and panicked.  He hit the button on the outside of the cell which set off flashing lights and a klaxon.  The guard opened the door and was two feet in before Timmy snapped out of his meditative state.  The guard grabbed Timmy by his arm and yanked him off the bed.  Timmy immediately began to collapse to the ground, his legs giving out on him because of the amount of time spent in the lotus position.  Two more guards pushed their way into the cell.  The guard holding Timmy’s arm yelled,” Tony, grab his other arm, Luke get that sheet off his neck.”

The two guards were efficient, snapping to accomplish their assigned tasks immediately.  Soon Timmy was hanging in air, his feet a couple of inches off the ground, and his cape now tossed back onto the bed from whence Timmy had taken it from.

“What is wrong with you?” asked the guard that had originally grabbed Timmy.  “Trying suicide after only an hour or two in the hole?”

“Chill Hobbs,” said Luke.  “The kid didn’t have the blanket that tight.”

“Suicide?” asked Timmy.  “That was my superhero cape.”

Tony began to laugh.  Hobbs wasn’t too happy about that.  “What the hell Tony.  It’s not funny,” Hobbs said.

Luke began to laugh as well.  “Come on man, that shit is funny,” he said.

Hobbs looked like he was about to punch both his fellow guards out.  Timmy decided he wanted the focus back on him.  “Guys, I like it when my feet can touch the ground,” Timmy said.

Tony let him down, but Hobbs kept his other arm hitched up, keeping Timmy off balance.  “Smart ass kid, I don’t like being punked. You know what that earns you?”

Timmy looked hard into Hobbs’ eyes, reading him.  “Normally it would mean you drop in one of your pets to pay me back, but we both know you can’t do that because the Warden would put your balls in a vice.”

Hobbs lifted even higher on Timmy, wrenching Timmy’s shoulder before letting go.  Luckily for Timmy, Tony was still holding onto him, so Timmy didn’t fall down.  Hobbs looked at Tony and Luke.  “Get that piece of shit back upstairs so he can meet the ladies. “  With that Hobbs turned and began to walk away.

Timmy laughed.  “Make sure you let your mom know I’ll be stopping by and paying her a visit,” Timmy said.

Hobbs turned around and threw a haymaker punch, only to be stopped by Luke.  “Let me go,” said Hobbs through pursed lips.

Luke shook his head.  “The kid isn’t worth it,” Luke said.  “We’ve got him boss.  Go walk it off.”

Hobbs glared at Timmy.  “Hobbs, don’t worry.  You’ll get your chance with me.  I promise,” Timmy said.  Hobbs left the cell without a second glance back.

Tony shoved Timmy towards the door.  “Let’s go.  You’ve got a date,” said Tony.  Timmy rubbed his sore shoulder, but for once decided to be quiet.  Besides, it was almost show time.