Breakfast and Coffee

Stories 1 Comment

The pre-work morning routine consists of a bowl of cereal and Earl Grey tea. But today was different. No, today he decided he needed some variation regarding the future contents of his stomach.

Like most Starbucks’ on the face of the planet, this one was having a busy weekend. The atmosphere was lively and crowded. However, the people and seemed a little different than usual.

Two older men on cellphones said nothing to one another while an aging woman dabbed at at her iPad. Older women still were having their weekend coffee and chat. Every fifth person was a small child. Parents buzzed about or sat in plush chairs, relaxing. Teenagers without a care in the world, the teenagers that take the outdoor seating, out of sight and out of mind of the adults, were absent completely.

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Vince, the Lovable Stoner

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I’ve been working on this over the course of a couple of months, off and on, a bit here and there when I had time. To be honest, I had no intention for the story to be this long. It was supposed to be about as long as anything else I’ve written lately. However, once I finished the outline and started fleshing out a few parts, it was apparent this was going to be a doozy.

Anyway, the only reason I wrote this was because I thought it would be an enjoyable creative exercise and basically, to see if I could do it. Writing this story turned out to be actual work at times, but fun nonetheless.

Vince, the Lovable Stoner is inspired by the song of the same name by The Fratellis. A good friend of mine turned me onto the Fratellis back in my Treyarch days, but for some reason I never liked the song much until lately. Once I started listening to this song in particular, I found that I loved the small story it told.

In some ways Vince, the Lovable Stoner serves as a personal reminder that music tastes change with life. Everyone has listened to a piece of music they didn’t care for. However, time changes people, their experiences, their attitudes and their perceptions. The music we listen to, reflecting our mood and emotions will change as well.  How often have you gone back and tried listening to a song a younger version of yourself didn’t care for?

In any event, the story is still in a draft state, but I wanted to post it anyway. It’s complete, but I’m sure there are a few typos, name and plot inconsistencies, and mistakes in general. I’ll keep adjusting and tweaking here and there, but I was excited to kick this out the door.

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‘A’ For Effort – All Four Parts

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‘A’ For Effort is an original story which certainly took some effort to knock out. I hope you found it entertaining. While I still consider the story a bit ‘drafty’, it was fun to put together. Maybe one day I’ll revisit it. Maybe one day I’ll clean it up.

And if I ever see it in a movie script or book without my permission, count on me getting all lawyery on someone in LA. I have lots of friends there. I like it there. I’m itching for reasons to go back.

Ahem, anyway, here’s ‘A’ For Effort in one convenient package, even better for human consumption! Tell your friends!

Love,
Jesse

‘A’ For Effort, End.

Stories 3 Comments

Locked away somewhere on a remote computer connected to the Internet, was a text file.

LadyCubs.

LadyCubs?

“Yeah, Lady Cubs.”

So there it was, the password existing in a text document on Mr. Robertson’s computer, waiting to be displayed on screen and gazed upon by one, maybe two students. But those students still had an entire day of classes to sit through before they could dig up their treasure. At any point during the day, they could be called into the principals office. Caught. Punished. It would all be over. Their futures dashed “Just to see if they could do it.”

Every bell was hell that day. Every announcement over the PA could mean expulsion. Anyone who walked through the door in a less than ordinary manner could have meant they were about to be escorted from class. Anyone who seemed ‘off’ or who wasn’t in on the mission to begin with fell under the eye of extreme scrutiny.

“Who wants to know?” became the slogan of the day.

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‘A’ For Effort, Pt. 3

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The four reconvened at Brian’s place. This wasn’t over. They were convinced the plan could still work. They debriefed and improved.

First, the computer. Brian committed a major error. He should have been able to deal with the CPU issue, but he was nervous going in. Too much adrenaline meant he couldn’t deal with the problem at hand. In fact, Brian was shot. Out. He wanted out. Second, the window. Bad idea. Certainly, there was a better way than entering from the outside of the building where they were completely exposed.

And that’s that’s where Kyle came in. The Key Man. He was a TA for another teacher in the same wing. Another science teacher. A teacher that had keys to the entire building.

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‘A’ For Effort, Pt. 2

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They were at Brian’s house. The four of them were hanging out as usual, talking about girls, games, and how they could get into trouble, when the topic of physics class came up. Frustration. Unfairness. Lack of honesty. No fair. Cheaters.

It was that fateful night when an elaborate plan to take control of their futures would be hatched. Counter ops. CIA shit. Secret squirrel. It was time to tip the cosmic scales.

Months ago, at home, he was infiltrating the dark corners of the Internet alone in his bedroom when he came across something called a key logger. A piece of software that records everything typed through the keyboard and stores those key strokes into a text file. He tried a few variants of the software, found the best and least obtrusive versions, and kept them on hand. For educational purposes.

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Prince Ehreth and the Kingdom of Dreams #3

PEatKoD, Stories 6 Comments

The snow was deep. The freezing air chilled every living being to the bone.

Through the icy, whipping winds, a battle cry was barely audible.

“ki…kikik…ikik…ikik…iii…ii…i!”

The magoran plodded through the snow, injured. A spear jutted from its rear right leg which slowed the creature’s pace, but with seven other functioning limbs, the beast still had a chance to survive. Or so it thought.

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‘A’ For Effort, Pt. 1

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Again, I made all this up. Seriously. Seriously! Why are you looking at me like that?

High school teachers come in all flavors. The new, young, cool Spanish teacher. The AP English teacher who wears a corduroy jacket with elbow patches. The just hot enough history teacher.

One stereotype that seems to be pervasive in the American public school system: The coach that teaches a remedial class, usually math. In his case, it was a track coach who taught not-so remedial physics. The ladies track coach.

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The Fat Cat Ate A Rat

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Warm and content, slept the fat tabby cat.
On a cold winter’s night, he spotted a big gray rat.

The rat was too slow and didn’t see it coming.
The cat leapt from his bed and gave the creature a numbing.

The rat ceased to exist but the large cat was not finished.
The fat flabby tabby was soon to be nourished.

Half of the rodent swiftly disappeared.
It was then my wife saw what she had feared.

“GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!” she shrieked at high pitch.
I was enthralled and so moved barely an inch.

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Shopping Cart Derby

Stories 3 Comments

The good people of Coos Bay slept. It was dark. Most had work the next day. Or school.

A ten minute drive on any given weeknight was ripe for a round of some of the best entertainment in this small West coast town.

The parking lot around the mall was vast, quiet and empty. That is, until the white Chevy Beretta appeared.

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