TCC CH 15 CRYING KING OF CLOVIS

Factoid:  Tellesco and The Glinty were united by the first King of a land that held Normandy.  The Norman Pirates originated from there, you see.

That young King was named Clovis.  He ruled at the age of 15.  Imagine that.

Treetops on Fire   by  I, The Mountain

Tellesco shouted over at us.  He said, “Come back here!  Help me with this bastard!”

Glinty turned from him and said to us, “You never leave a man behind.  Remember the promise you made.”

Yeah, that weepy dude who'd fought the angry punk rocker needed our help.  Hell, he'd saved us all from such vehemence of that fat fucker.  


OK, I'll admit it:  Tellesco saved us from certain death, in our fear and fleeing from that asshole.


But,
 

How could Tellesco be the king of anyone?

Crying

King

of

Clovis

Well gawdayam, Joey nodded at me, and Big Bryan rubbed his head as he awoke in the desert dust.  He said, “I’ll put that purple-haired bastard down.”

The Glinty said, “We need them both!  Don’t go off all half cocked!”

Joey said, “What, you want us fully cocked?!”

Yeah, he was like that: it would always be that way with him (and it still is).  

But I get ahead of myself here. (Ahem) Let’s continue from the last part, shall we?

Glinty said, “All of us need to be corralled here.  We need to rein that Clown Boy in.  That’ll take some doing.  Be prepared!  He’s angry, and properly so.  You boys done drowned his hearse he been driving, and now we’ll have to pin him down on all his limbs before he wakens.”

(That ghostly cowboy preacher was connected to the angry punk, you might recollect. Glinty had said, “We tied together, that Clown Boy and me.”)

I bent down and looked into Big Bryan's face.  He had a bump on the side of his noggin about the size of a barn door. He must’ve had a headache. 

I said, “Bryan, you think you can help us out now?”

Bryan growled and said, “Let me at ‘im.”

I set back to watch how he would do.  He pulled himself over and got up to his knees.  He didn’t sway at all.  Then he got up on his feet, shook off the desert silt, and then he looked down at us there knelt all around him. 

He said, “What the hell you boys waiting for?”

Good enough for me.

I rose up like them others did, and we all turned to look back at that Tellesco dude.  He was holding the scary, angry baby down. 


That angry punk was moving about now.  He was waking up.

I said, “Mr. McFlintlock, what are we gonna do when he wakes up?”

The Glinty said, “Well, mister man, we gonna teach that boy a lesson.  I been waiting a long time for this.”

What the hell did that mean?

God Help You

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

Circle   by BHTATM   

OK, Three More For You:

(Hint to Clovis, for you.  It’s in the TRVTH chapter.  What Glinty said about them being connected, he and Tellesco.  The McGlinty Clan.  They eventually became the Pirates of Normandy, and they took over Scotland.)

http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2013/05/tfw-ch-11-trvth.html

Chapter 12 and this 13 ADVICE are indicated.

http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2013/05/tfw-ch-13-advice.html

Dig Deep.

http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2013/06/tfw-ch-15-dig-deep.html

.

TCC CH 14 OKIE LENS

QOTSA Lullabies To Paralyze 

We continue from the last part.  

Joey hopped down out of our escape vehicle.  We could have escaped…

That sort of behavior takes stainless-steel balls, huh?

Yup.  It truly does. You can run off, you can escape, you can leave all them men behind,

…but,

…sometimes, it’s worth it just to stick around and see what happens next.

Joey helped me grab Big Bryan and we dragged him to safety once again, but gawdayam, we couldn’t get him up into the truck.

He was too heavy and the steps were too high.

Joey looked me right in the eye.

He said, “We should have just driven away!  We could have gone Home!  You be seeing your Momma and your sisters now, and I be getting back to my own-“

I said, “And leave Bryan behind?!  What the fuck, Joseph!  You never leave a man behind!  Remember?!”

Joey looked over my shoulder and his eyes got real big.  He let Big Bryan slump down onto the desert dust.

He said, “Well, guess I don’t need to answer that now, Weeeee-ill.   We in for some shit.”

I let go of Bryan and turned around. 

That old cowboy, well he was the first to arrive.  He said, “You boys done busted up my barn!  Why’d you go and do that?!”

I said, “Mistah McFlintlock, why you never gotten your eye-glasses fixed?”

He stepped back. 

He eyed me. 

Then he nodded. 

He said this (and it is tantamount):  “Young fella, one lens is whole to see the Trvth and one lens broken for I can see the Broken.”

Fucking hah?

I said, “What about that scary dude we dug up from the desert?  What about him?  He’s trying to kill us!”

Glinty said, “Bad times ahead.  We got some bad times ahead for us all.  Shit’s hitting the fan.  That angry bastard figures into it all.”

Nope.

Not good enough for the likes of me. 

I said, “You and him are up to no good.  I’m gonna takes my boys and head back now.  You stay here with that asshole all ya like.  Make him some pancakes.”

Joey pointed at Bryan.  He said, “Why did you lock up everything?  We trying to escape!  We fucked up here and now like him!””

Glinty said, “No one leaves until we all do.  Ya never leave a man behind.  None of us here will be left behind.  Ya know why?  Because we each of us matter!  We each of us can fight what awaits.  We each of us can become a force, together.  We just need to become a solid team.”

Damn.

Believe   by The Bravery  

Evidently, we would have to help out the angry Punk who had wanted to kill us all just moments before.

We might convince him to see that we had a larger concern, which was this:

We all and each faced them Purple Robes.

Is a common fear ever enough to solidify a collective solution?

We will see, my friend.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

OK, One More For You:






My own gateway song to the addiction of QOTSA, first time I heard I heard them back in the day:

No One Knows    

.

TCC CH 13 NEXUS

Judge Jury and Executioner  by Atoms For Peace  

Now we start from the previous chapter. 

I ran towards Joey and Bryan who were at the barn.  They were right, we should have just bailed.  Big Bryan kicked at the weather-beaten planks trying to get to the huge utility truck inside.  It was our escape vehicle.  Them barn doors would not budge.

I ran from Tellesco and Fat Jerry who were wrestling in the dirt, and I left the old ghost cowboy with his new friend in the dust.

My head was full and I needed a mental vacation.

It was because of what was beginning to dawn on me: we were at some sort of place where the points all led (or came back to, that is). 

A cabin in the desert? 

Who in hell would build such a thing in the middle of the desert? 

Well my friend, I recognized that it was a nexus. 

It’s like this:  You know how on most days, you do your daily tasks and go along and everything runs like clockwork: things come and you deal with them, but it’s mostly routine?

Well consider the nexus thing for a minute, would ya?  That thing is easy to recognize, from the moment you wake up.

Your alarm doesn’t do its job, so you wake up late.  The coffee maker didn’t make coffee, the shower has no hot water, and you forgot your towel.

Never forget your towel.

Now, that there describes a bad day, isn't that right.


However, it goes beyond a bad day.


A nexus is a day when you find yourself facing a sudden emergency just when you have a meeting with folks whom you've planned to meet for a long time, and then a long-lost friend arrives with a great opportunity for wealth, and you get a flat tire.

You see,

A nexus is a place where many things converge, and a time when many important things suddenly need you to engage with them, but you can choose only one of them.

A Nexus is like that.

This remote locale in the desert about the ugly city of Fuckno was such a thing.  And, wouldn’t ya know it, that Glinty bastard had already figured it out.  Here’s the part from where I’d first met him.  I was driving my girlfriend to this very same place in this part.  We met The Glinty there.

From this part of the tale.

I reached Joey and Bryan and Joey said, “Weeee-ill!  Let’s get the fuck outta here!”

I said, “Joseph, let’s break a window.  That Glinty dude done locked up shit real tight.”

Big Bryan backed up and then he ran at the doors, pointing his shoulder at them.

He smacked into them doors and he bounced back and went straight down into the dust. 

He took a dirt nap.

We dragged that huge young man around the corner of the barn, away from harm.

Joey pulled me up, but I resisted because I wanted to see if Big Bryan was OK.

Joey said, “He’s all right, now come on!”

I followed him along the side of the giant barn.  He usually had the best ideas, the ones that could get you in the most trouble.

He pointed to them tiny windows up above.  He said, “Let’s get inside through them!”

I nodded.  They were much higher than before, when it once held a hearse under a tarp.   That was from the link I just showed you above, my friend. 

Joey said, “Help me get up to them!  Lace your fingers Weeee-ill!”

I bent and laced my fingers together as he instructed.  He put the heel of his Doc Marten into the cup of my hands and he placed his own his hands on the grey wooden wall.  I lifted him up.

The Little Lion Man said, “Look down Weeee-il!”  He smashed them windows open with his elbow, protected by his leather jacket. 

Always mind your leather.  It can save you.

The glass shards fell down all about my feet as I looked down. A couple of them caught me in the head, and blood dribbled down my cheek.  Fucking great.

Joey’s boot left my palms and I stepped back and looked up at him in the bright desert sunshine.  He pulled himself through the window hole and then he was gone inside.

I heard him land on the ground on the other side of this high wall, and then he ran off.  I felt the top of my head for glass shards, but there were none.  All I could feel was a damp part and a tiny hole in my scalp.  I pressed down on it to stop the flow of blood. 

The scalp has very many veins and arteries in it, and they will bleed quite a bit from a cut because they are at the top of your body, and there is a lot of blood pressure, against gravity.

But since they are small, they respond quite well to pressure, and then the knitting cells in the blood will clot and start to form a scab.  The human body is quite a marvelous construct.

I ventured a peek around the other side.

I saw this:

Tellesco and Fat Jerry were still fighting, but their adrenaline appeared to be spent, because they were now simply two, large naked men slowly punching and pushing at each other, and they were wheezing hard.

Patrick Til-Bury and that Glinty asshole tried to pull them two huge bastards apart.

I pulled back around the corner and pressed my bloody cheek to the wall.  The wood against my cheek was dry so it soaked up my blood.  I heard the truck inside awaken from its slumber.  Joey would drive now.

I pulled my cheek away and felt the wood tug at my skin.  What the hell?  Great.  Now I was blood brother to the barn.

I was blood brother to this nexus.

I stepped back, looking at the place where my blood had been.

That was when the doors to the barn burst apart into flying boards and that huge truck with the solid guard-rail attached to its nose roared out into the sunshine.

That was exquisite sight to behold.

Joey looked down at me from the cab, and he said, “Hey little girl, wanna ride?”

I laughed, even though I was panicked.

Joey said, “Let’s go home Weeee-ill!”

Best idea evah, my friend.

I said, "We can't forget Bryan!"  I pointed to the other side of the barn's corner.


Joey's shoulders slumped at the steering wheel.



He knew I was right.



You never leave a man behind.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out, 

...till next time.

.

Dead End Friends   by Them Crooked Vultures   

Floater   by Waldeck    

B3 by Placebo  

.

(Beta for the weekend) TCC CH 13 Settle Of The Dust

Oreo Cookie Blues   by Lonnie Mack  http://youtu.be/ZsDcBg4X7fQ

VERSION ONE

Now we start from the previous chapter:  http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2013/09/tcc-ch-12-glinty-and-punk.html

I ran towards Joey and Bryan at the barn.  They were right, we should have just bailed.

I passed Tellesco and Fat Jerry who were wrestling in the dirt and I left the old ghost cowboy with his new friend in the dust.

It was too much for me to comprehend.  Fuck that shit.

It was because of what was beginning to dawn on me: we were at some sort of place where the points all led (or came back to, that is).  A cabin in the desert?  Who the hell builds something like this in the middle of the desert?  Well my friend, I was beginning to see that it was a nexus.  It was one of them places where shit always seems to hit the fan.

From this part of the tale:  http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2011/05/114-final-version.html

(To be written for the weekend)

 

TCC CH 12 THE GLINTY AND THE PUNK

Now, we must not forget about the opposition to them Purple Robes, isn’t that right?

Country Heroes   by Hank Williams The Third  

While Christopher found himself in a new place (and suddenly in control of an empire, without a clue)

and Sven (the evil one who had ignited these Fuckno Wars) found that he was being rescued by them gunners from the roof)

and The High Priest of Them Purple Robes searched for a new body to inhabit,

…after leaving his woman to fend for herself in the dark heart of Fuckno…

Well,

we young, damned punks had just dug up a really bad asshole from the desert muck and we feared for our lives as we ran from him.

Let’s go back to that part, cool with you?  Here and now, let’s return to our side of the Fuckno Wars, from where we left.

---For the start of that part, click here. 

We ran for our lives.

Escape:

run away

-exit.

Except for one thing, which is always this:  There is no escape, there is no exit.  There is only an Entrance to the next chapter of your life.

TCC 

CH 12

THE

GLINTY

AND

THE

ANGRY
PUNK

All My Life   by Them Foo Fighters 

Now, we had a large, white utility truck with various electrical tools in many hatches and compartments, and it was stowed in a huge barn in the desert.

This was to where we ran, with The Glinty following us behind the angry punk bastard who chased us.  That fucker had some bone-snapping-fun in mind.

The Glinty shouted from behind the pink-mohawked bastard as he clambered up over the ridge of the desert dune.

He said, “Ya dang-burned yeller belly basterds!  You need to stand and fight him!  He is a bully!  He will falter!”

Of course, that made no sense to us in our panic.  We had just dug him up out of a deep desert grave and gawd-damn was he mad.

As we ran down the desert dune towards the barn, Bryan shouted from behind me, “We gonna let him steal that big truck?”

Do ya recollect, Big Bryan had always told me this:  “Where you lead, I will follow.” But who the fuck was I to do any leading?

Well, mistah man, that woke me the fuck up. Surely we couldn't lead him straight to the escape vehicle.  We had work to do in Fuckno.  We needed that naked angry fat baby who chased us now. He could fuck up everything.

I remembered what I had promised to my friends. “Leave no man behind.”

Jeez.

We'd left the Glinty behind.

Hell, it was his own damned fault for making us wake up the angry bastard.

I was in the lead because I was… well, I wouldn’t admit to being the biggest coward: I didn’t have the guts to admit it back then. But I sure could run fast.

Yup, we couldn’t leave the Glinty behind. We needed him, too.

So I made one of them executive decisions.  I switched direction and ran towards the big log cabin.

That friggin' Glinty.  It was all his fault, our predicament.  Let the angry punk smash up the cabin instead of our escape vehicle, don't ya know. 

I heard the little lion man Joey holler out from far behind.  He said, "Weeee-ill!  You heading the wrong way!"

I paid him no mind.  Sometimes, when you have to make an executive decision it hurts simply because no one at the time understands the reason you did it.  But if you show true leadership capability at that moment, then hopefully, time will reveal the truth.

You may be redeemed.  Even if that doesn't happen, (and most often it does not) then at least you can rest in peace knowing that you did the right thing.  That is true leadership.


I ran to the front steps on the other side of the cabin and I ran up.  I yanked on the huge black iron hardware and it did not budge.


Now I tell you mistah that almost made me shit my pants.


Then I recalled how some folks in Fuckno done wiped their fingers over car hoods to put spells on them and also did it to open closed doors.


I heard Big Bryan catch up to me as he clambered up the stairs.

I waved my hands over the door handles, but nothing happened.  I began to panic.  All of my friends were now following me to this porch instead of to the escape vehicle.  We might have gotten away (and also fucked over The Glinty in the process) but at least we wouldn't have to face the huge punk at the rear.


Bryan said, "Let me open it!"


Next thing you know, Joey showed up at the corner of the cabin and he stopped. I stepped away from the door and Bryan grabbed onto its handles.

Joey was out of breath. He looked at the barn, and then back beyond the corner of the cabin. His eyes got real big.

He said, "That Fat Jerry punk got the electrical worker dude!  He's beating the fuck out of him!  Let's bail!"

That made good sense to me.  Fuck that Fat Jerry, fuck that electrical worker dude, and fuck that Glinty cowboy preacher.  I turned back to Bryan and yanked him back.

He looked down at me and said, "I can't budge it.  Joey's right.  Let's get the hell out of here, now."


Sounded good to me.

 
Bryan stomped down the stairs and I looked back at them black handles on the door.

An image flashed before my eyes.  It was from when The Glinty led us up the stairs to these doors the night before.  He said something under his breath and hovered his hands over them handles, and do ya know, there was some sort of blue light that appeared.

Well, fuck it. One last chance. Being Injun and all, we have some sort of magical thing inside, right?

I hovered my hands over the handles and said some words in my native tongue.

By golly, them doors swung outward and there was a fancy feast inside, and also some shamans and gunslinger ghosts who would help us win the war!

The end.

Just kidding.  

(Sorry.  How many times?  I just can't help myself, my friend.  Ya know...)

So, nope. 


Nothing happened.

Fuck it.  I ran back down the stairs to follow the other two and that was when the utility man's body flew past my face.  

Hah?

Joey had the lead, and Bryan was catching up, and they reached the barn just as I turned to face the angry, fat punk rocker with the purple mohawk hairdo.

Did I mention he was naked?  Yup, his dangly parts whipped about as he came to a stop and glared down at me.

His knuckles bled and his forehead gleamed in the hot desert sun.

I squinted up at him.

I said, "Well hey there, Jerry!  Really sorry about fucking up your ride."

I hadn't thought that his face could get much more angry looking, but it did.  He raged.  He inhaled deep and he threw his arms to the clear blue sky.  He screamed at the top of his lungs.

He said, "You buried me in the fucking desert when you did that!  FUCK YOU!"

That was when Tellesco showed up behind, with The Glinty dude not far behind.

Had Tellesco been hiding?

I stood straight up to receive my justice.  You never intentionally fuck up another dude's ride.  Hell, you should never do it even unintentionally.  I whimpered and I closed my eyes tight.  Is it better to watch the death punch to your face, or is it worse to wait for it unseeing?

Tellesco shouted from behind the angry punk.

He said, "I was the one who stole it, you fat fuck. Blame me."

I still had my eyes closed and I was trembling, but I wanted Joey and Bryan to have a chance to get away.

And that was when the smacking sounds occured.

I opened my eyes and saw that fat naked guy in a fist fight with Tellesco.  Tellesco's burnt leather jacket ripped apart as he dodged and swung, and his frigging afghan kilt fell off.

I wintnessed two huge men fighting naked.

No one should ever view such a sight.  It's horrible.

The Glinty caught up to us all and instead of intervening between them two, he ran to the electrical worker's body.

I just stood there.  I looked at them, I looked at the men fighting, and then I looked over at Joey and Bryan in front of the barn, and they were yanking on the barn doors.  Them doors would not budge.

The Glinty had the whole place locked up tight.

In the midst of the loud smacking sounds that fists make in a fight, I turned to see what the hell that ghost cowboy was doing with that Til-Bury fellow.

He was doing something odd.  He straightened out the man's body, rearranging his broken limbs, and then he was still.

The man's body quivered for a spell, but then he began to stiffen up.  No, not in that way, ya dirty minder.  I mean, Patrick Til-Bury became solid again, like a carved stick-figure.

And then he sat up.

Well, sort of.

His body still lied in the desert dust, but a blue version of him sat up, out of it, at the arse end.

He spoke to the cowboy dude, and The Glinty spoke back at at him, and then he lied right back down.

Then his actual body began to stir.  Glinty helped him get up to his feet.

What the hell was going on?

Hah?



I ran to the barn. 


Fuck that shit.

See you next time, my friend.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

.

Weekend At Willies TCC CH 11 REVOLVE

Talk Shows On Mute   by Incubus

The Chauffeur had walked-in to a new body.  He felt the soft down-comforter over him and the plush pillows under his head.   

He did not open his eyes just yet.   

He did not want to lose this moment of bliss.

He savored it.   

He’d just come from the dark heart of the city, and even though it had been only moments ago,

well,

…it might as well have been a hundred years ago, considering how nested and nestled he now felt. 

He heard the soft, small breaths of someone nearby in the bed, and slightly further beyond, the breathing of someone who was not so young and small.

He lied in a bed as a husband to a wife, and they had a baby between them.

Christopher hadn’t felt such a thing before.  His own lady had not yet given him a child. 

You see, they’d agreed that once he’d earned and saved enough money for her to buy a ticket from them damned coyotes and they had a place in the States, that was when they would start their own little family.

He rued the day that he decided to come to Fuckno.

But it was all he had now.  It was too late to move somewhere else and start over again.

He had ended the night before by setting himself on fire and running down a dark tunnel.

He had died.

Yet again.

How many chances did one get?

TCC 

CH 11

REVOLVE

He savored this stolen experience from the man whose body he now inhabited.  He did not know where he was, but he knew that he would have to proceed slowly.

Would they detect his accent when he spoke?  Of course they would.  Well, at least the lady would.  He could tell that the baby was too much to small to understand any words at all.

Even as he tried to submerge back into the comfort and bliss of the bedding, the feeling was slipping away as his mind worked.   

Such a sad thing; to have a taste of a good life and then to realize that it would become ugly and loud with fear and shouting, if he did not proceed correctly.

Then fire alarms woke everyone the fuck up.

Bright sunlight gleamed down through the tall windows as he opened his eyes and sat up.  He looked over at the other two in the huge bed.

Indeed, there lied a baby next to him and beyond her, a beautiful woman.  She had the visage of someone from the Mediterranean.  Dark hair, high cheekbones, deep golden skin.

The alarms rang and her eyes fluttered open and she looked for her man.  Her eyes were colored like the waters of a clear, deep-green ocean bay.

Christopher was taken aback.  He recognized her and then he knew whose body he now inhabited.

He had walked into the eldest son of the High Priest of them Purple Robes.

He was a Prince.  He was next in line to the throne.

Smooth Sailing by QOTSA  

Christopher whipped the covers away and hopped out of bed.  He looked for his street clothes and did not see them.  They were probably somewhere being cleaned and pressed.  All that he saw was a bathrobe draped over a chair.

The lady, (he knew her as Lady Emeralda) hopped out of bed and attended to the baby.  A fire alarm could mean anything, and she had been trained on what to do in case of attack.

She held her baby close and jogged to the walk-in closet to dress them both in clothes that would not attract too much attention. 

Christopher saw another door nearby hers and he had a clue.  He ran to it and when he opened it, he saw all manner of accoutrement and accessory for a wealthy man.

He tossed down the robe and quickly dressed in the clothing of an executive, stuffing a necktie into the pocket of his suit coat and leaving his shoes untied.

He ran into the other walk-in closet and Emeralda widened her eyes in surprise.  Why had her man dressed so conspicuously?  Certainly he would be a target.  He would make them all a target.

She opened her mouth to ask him but the phone rang and she shut her mouth.

Christopher went to it where it sat on the lamp table by the bed and grabbed the reciever up to his ear.   

The voice on the other end of the line said, “Sir!  We have an intruder in the servants’ quarters.  People are injured.  The quarters were on fire but it is being extinguished.  Keep calm.  Please keep your wife safe in your quarters at this time.”

The line went dead.

Emeralda said, “What is happening down there?”

Christopher looked up at her.   

Now was the moment of truth.  He would speak to her and it would not sound correct.

He opened his mouth and said, “We have to stay here until the fire alarms turn off!”

Emeralda went to sit at the small tea table by one of the large windows.  She held the crying baby close and then she pulled out her breast.

The fire alarms pierced the clear morning light and they would not stop ringing. As his mind collected all of the information he had just recieved, one thing became clear, which was this:

The loud clanging of them alarms had been his saving grace.

For now.

Warsaw or TheFirst Breath You Take After You Give Up   by Them Crooked Vultures 

From the screaming, fiery hellhole that erupted, Sven ran down the hallway, leaving a trail of fiery footsteps in his wake.

The sprinklers overhead spurted awake and gushed water down in the hallway and soaked him.

Behind him, where he had bashed in the head of a man with a baseball bat and thrust a knife into the throat of  a young woman who had accompanied him, he heard aerosol cans burst from the intense heat in the supply closet. A fireball erupted from them.

This new opportunity for him was dissipating before his eyes and it was his own fault.  He had not been able to control himself. 

He fled the fireball from the aerosol gases and just when it reached him he dove down on the floor and it passed over his head.  His soaked hair did not catch fire.

 

He looked back and saw the flashing emergency lights and the black smoke that billowed of the quarters.  The water droplets flashed in mid air with each blink of them lights.  They were diamonds hung on a black, smoky curtain.

And then the show began.

Them gunners from the top of the building were running down, and the men on the ground floor scrambled to action.

Sven saw the flashlights beyond the billowing smoke and they shined down on the floor before them and whipped about like glow sticks at a rave.

He crawled forth on his hands and knees seeking exodus.

In the flashing lights he saw a turn in the corridor ahead and it led to the right, towards the rear of the mansion.  He would make use of it.  He would hide.

From the servants' quarters behind, more of the aerosol cans erupted from the inferno in the supply closet, and that was when the men started shooting their pistols.

All manner of fuck occurred.

Folks came running out of the great room and its servant's rooms, and they were shot.  Not all of them died.

Sven turned the corner and got to his knees, crouching along as he made his way towards a light that shined through the black smoke.  It was an exit at the end.  It was daylight.

As he got closer, he began to cough.  The hallway was filling up.  Oxygen was expended.

He would suffocate from smoke inhalation of all the dangerous chemicals from the burning supply closet.

He choked and his eyes burned.

He got up and ran towards the exit and then one of the doors to the hallway swung open and smashed him in his face.

He fell down, backwards, and his head hit the floor so hard that he could taste it.

The lights went out.

Armed men rushed out and the first one tripped over Sven.

The one after him shined his flashlight down into Sven’s face and shouted, “Halt!  We have the young Prince here!  Secure the area and I will escort him to the outside air!”

Huh.

It wasn’t the end for Sven.

Well, just yet.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out

Good Morning   by Dandy Warhols 

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Weekend At Willies TCC CH 10 Christo Pher Reborn

The path to perdition is lined with burning stones of intention.

Apple Blossom   by The White Stripes  

Weekend

At

Willies

TCC CH 10

Christo

Pher

Reborn

Well let me tell you mistah, that was a horrible way to wake up.  The Chauffeur had no clue about what awaited him.

“…he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.” –Ernest Hemingway

Christopher the Chauffeur heard the fire alarms ringing.

He did not know that the fire had been started by the maid. 

He did not know that it was Sherry, and she sought Lenny Sustenuto, as well as vengeance for his death by the Walk-In cannibal who had started it all.

Sven had begun the Fuckno Wars.

Now do not underestimate them Walk-Ins.  They were the ones who had built the megalopolis of Fuckno into the hellhole it had become.

Christopher did not know, as he rose up from his comfy bed, that he was now in control of a vast and deep-set community of them Armedmenians.

Indeed, in the widespread and various city departments of electrical power and water control in the desert valley that had once held a river the size of an ocean,

Well,

There were many of them Purple Robes who had become alerted.

The Fuckno War had begun, with or without him.

The Bane Rendition   by The Raconteurs 

Sven ran down the hall with his shoes on fire as the fire alarms began to screech.  He was not familiar with the place, but he had survived many desperate shituations, even worse than this.

What mattered most was that he did not want to lose this opportunity.

When you find yourself facing such a thing, do you throw your mittens up and bail?

Or do you fight for your life?

See you next time for the welcome home party, so to speak.

It will be long, and it will be hard.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

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