November 1, 2008

Coin Endings

Endings to the short story, i just posted. Please tell me which works best.
1.)

Steven Carter sighed, standing in the elevator. It was almost eleven, and he hadn’t heard from Andrea all day. He’d just come from her apartment, and she wasn’t there. Something was bothering her, he knew it. He also hadn’t been able to find Zacharia Kirkland either. It seemed like everyone was avoiding him.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Beyond the doors, he could see to people. The back of a red haired woman, and a man holding a gun. Immediately he pulled his own sidearm. He moved quickly, watching the man, ready.

The man holding the gun fired. His training kicked in, and he jerked his own weapon up, and fired. Time seemed to slow as Steven began to run towards the two. The man, who Steven recognized as Zacharia Kirkland, fell to the floor. He started to run faster, knowing the woman must have been Andrea.

Andrea walked over and knelt over the body of Zacharia.

“Andrea.” he said, reaching her side.

She didn’t look up. “He missed…” she said, her voice distracted.

“What?”

She didn’t respond.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“He was a troubled man.” She said, almost ignoring him. “His life, destroyed by another.”

“Okay…” Steven said, confused by what was going on.

“He was wrong though. My father wasn’t innocent. He may not have done anything to Bethany…but I was there, long before she was.”

“Andrea…” he felt a need to reach his hand out, to comfort her, but something held him back.

“I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect myself.” She stared at the body. “I couldn’t protect the kid last night. And I couldn’t protect a man, who was scarred by the same act I was…” she said, softly.

Steven didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry…” she said, her voice more than a whisper.

Before Steven could react, a loud bang filled the garage. Andrea fell limp over Zacharia’s body.

“Andrea!” he cried, kneeling beside her, and quickly rolling her over. A red flower bloomed over her chest. A gun lay on the concrete floor. “No…please don’t.” He felt for a pulse. He didn’t find one.

2.)

Steven Carter sighed, standing in the elevator. It was almost eleven, and he hadn’t heard from Andrea all day. He’d just come from her apartment, and she wasn’t there. Something was bothering her, he knew it. He also hadn’t been able to find Zacharia
Kirkland either. It seemed like everyone was avoiding him.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Beyond the doors, he could see to people. The back of a red haired woman, and a man holding a gun. Immediately he pulled his own sidearm. He moved quickly, watching the man, ready.

The man holding the gun fired. His training kicked in, and he jerked his own weapon up, and fired. Time seemed to slow as Steven began to run towards the two. The man, who Steven recognized as Zacharia Kirkland, fell to the floor. He started to run faster, knowing the woman must have been Andrea.

Andrea walked over and knelt over the body of Zacharia.

“Andrea.” he said, reaching her side.

She didn’t look up. “He missed…” she said, her voice distracted.

“What?”

She didn’t respond.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“He was a troubled man.” She said, almost ignoring him. “His life, destroyed by another.”

“Okay…” Steven said, confused by what was going on.

“He was wrong though. My father wasn’t innocent. He may not have done anything to Bethany…but I was there, long before she was.”

“Andrea…” he felt a need to reach his hand out, to comfort her, but something held him back.

“I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect myself.” She stared at the body. “I couldn’t protect the kid last night. And I couldn’t protect a man, who was scarred by the same act I was…” she said, softly.

Steven reached down and touched her shoulder. “Andrea…It isn’t your fault.”
She looked up at him. Tears stained her face.

Steven crouched beside her and looked her in the eyes. “You can’t carry the blame of what’s happened to others, or what others have done.” He smiled, softly. “All you can do is grow, and be the best you can be.”

He pulled her to him, holding her tightly. Her face buried into his shoulder, still crying. “I’m sorry,” was all she said.

Coin Version 4 (Everything but the end)

This is everything but the end, there is a reason (mainly i don't know which end to put). I'm going to post several endings, and ask your opinion of them. That'll be in just a minute, so enjoy the story till then.

Andrea Daveys stood in the back of the gas station convenience store, staring at the container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The door to the freezer hung open before her, but the cold didn’t really bother her. She frowned, turning the frozen treat around in her hand, not really reading the information, just thinking. She hated ice cream. It had memories of her father that she couldn’t shake off. Gently she tossed it into the air, and catching it. She repeated this, still lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her sister.

She pushed the freezer door shut and made her way through one of the few isle in the store. The door opened to the store, with a faint beep. Andrea looked up and saw a young man wearing a jacket, his hands buried in the jacket’s pockets. She shook her head and looked to her left, seeing the row of candy. For a moment she wondered if a chocolate bar would be enough for her sister, instead of the ice cream. She sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fair.

After a moment she gets behind the young man standing at the counter, buying cigarettes from the owner. Her cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She didn’t bother go for it. The buzz was an alarm, set for 9:45pm. Her favorite show would be on in fifteen minutes. She watched as the owner moved slowly around behind the counter, getting the cigarettes. Moving the ice cream from her right hand, to her left, to relieve the cold, she groaned.

Time slowed as the young man pulled something from his right pocket. Andrea saw the gun in his hand as it moved to point at the owner. She felt her heart race, pounding hard in her chest. Her eyes focused on the gun.
Her fingers went numb, and she dropped the ice cream. It hit the tile hard, breaking the cheap plastic seal, and sending the insides in all directions. She felt the cold splash against her leg, instantly knowing the man in front of her would have felt the ice cream as well.

He did. He turned to her. First his eyes, looking down in surprise, then, up at her. She reacted, instantly. Her right hand reached out and grabbed the young man’s hand. She followed with her left elbow, just below the man’s ribs.

The gun didn’t fire. She felt the man’s grip of the gun loosen, and she quickly grabbed for the barrel, preventing it from falling to the ground. The man himself stumbled backwards and fell onto his back, gasping for breath.

Andrea smiled slightly, feeling as if she did some good, before looking to the owner. He still looked frightened. “Don’t worry, I’m a cop.” She put the gun onto the counter, while reaching with her other hand into her coat, for her badge. “And he should be just fine, just knocked the wind from him.” She flashed the gold emblem to the owner.

He didn’t move.

She blinked and nodded. “I tell ya what. I’ll go to my car, I’ve got a radio, I’ll call this in. Afterwards, I’ll come back, and help you clean up the mess.” She smiled, trying reassure the man.

Andrea quickly left the store, and went to her car, parked near-by. She laughed softly, proud of herself. Not that she hadn’t taken down crooks before, it always felt good, slamming and elbow or knee into a bad guy. It also never usually goes down this simple. Sure, the ice cream was lost, and she’d have make something up to her sister, but that wasn’t going to bring her down.

She opened the driver’s door and reached in for the hand-set sitting on the middle of her dash. “This is Detective Daveys. There has been an attempted robbery. Suspect has been apprehended, could you please send back up. I’m at a gas station at the corner of Wilkens and Uni-” A loud bang cut her off. Her finger slipped off the button on the radio.

“Detective Daveys! What is going on?” the voice of the dispatcher over the radio came through.

“I don’t know…” She trailed off. Two more bangs came in quick succession.

Andrea dropped the radio and ran quickly to the front of the store. Just inside the glass doors, she saw the owner standing over the would-be-robber. Blood had splattered onto his shoes, and the bottom of his pants. He held the gun, pointed down, a gentle stream of smoke coming from the barrel.



Zacharia stood before the nightstand and carefully removed the things on top of the stand, before laying down the case. He lifted the latches, taking his time, making as little noise as possible.

First he removed a small pistol. It wasn’t loaded, but it didn’t need to be. Than he removed a small pack of extra long zip ties, followed by a long piece of cloth. Next he took out a tape recorder. Finally an even smaller case, made of wood and initials carved into it.

Zacharia looked over to the sleeping man and sighed softly. He scanned the room, looking for the best advantage. He gently picked up the cloth from the nightstand and stood over the sleeping man. With his free hand he reached forward and opened the man’s mouth, than lifting his hand, so he could wrap the cloth around the sleeping man’s head, creating a gag.

He left the man’s head go. A soft grunt came from the man, as he slowly woke from his slumber.

“Good…” Zacharia said softly. The man tried to move away, scrambling across the bed. “I wouldn’t…Mr. Harper…” He gestured to the gun on the table passively; making sure the man saw it. “I think I could fire a shot before you’d get to a door or window.”
Harper stopped moving, his eyes locked on Zacharia, tears starting to form. Zacharia just nodded and picked up the package of zip ties and the gun, walking over to the side of the bed the man had scrambled to.

“Arms out front…” Zacharia said. After a moment the man didn’t comply. “Do as I say, or you will die.” His arms sprung forward. Zacharia put the pack to his mouth and gently pulled the zip tie out of it using his teeth. He tossed the package aside and slowly wrapped the tie around Harper’s wrists.

“Alright.” He pushes the man back down onto the bed. “This won’t take long.” Zacharia laid down the gun and walks over to pick up the small engraved box. He runs his thumb along the crack along the side. With a gentle push the box opened, exposing a scalpel sitting on the velvet inside. He gently pulled the tool from its resting place.

He looked at the man, twirling the scalpel between his fingers. “I’m sorry I can’t make this quick.” He reached down and slowly lifted Harpers right foot. “But…” Zacharia sliced the blade across his victim’s Achilles’ tendon. A muffled cry of pain came from the man. He gently lifted Harper’s left foot and repeated the process. “You don’t deserve that luxury.” The man laid on the bed, tears streaming down his face.

Zacharia sets the case down next to the immobilized man. He walks back around to the night stand and picked up the recorder. His thumb presses down the record and play button, starting the machine. “Now…Where to begin…” He absent mindedly balanced the scalpel on the back of his fingers, and stared at Harper.

“Right…” Zacharia looked down at Harper’s eyes, seeing the fear in them. “I bet you never thought you would ever feel this kind of fear?” Zacharia shook his head. “So, shall we start…

“Bethany Daveys…” His mind went back over the research he had done before his arrival. “You were her pediatrician. At the age of twelve, she was found, alone in her home, tied up, molested…” he paused for a moment, remembering the data. “Her father was suppose to be watching her. Several days later, he was found dead, hung himself, in motel room. Bethany currently resides in a mental institution, her mind…broken. She thinks she’s still twelve. Stuck at that age for all her life…”

Zacharia slowly walked around the bed, thinking, his mind lost for a moment. He looked to Harper. “You know who I’m talking about…” Harper lay still, his eyes following Zacharia as he walked. He smiled slightly. “How about Helena Kirkland?” He nodded. “Ten. Again, home alone, and the same treatment. No charges were filed. But her mother blamed her father. She left him. His grief ate away at him. Years later, he was left alone, his job gone. He was gone then…” He paused for a moment and walked over to Harper.

Zacharia looked at his own watch. “It’s getting late…” He picked up the gun, placing the recorder in it’s place, and pointed it at Harper.. Zacharia pulls the trigger. The man cries out as the gun gives out a soft click. “It’s not loaded…” He laughs softly and walks over to his case. He gently puts away the gun and look to his victim.

“Here’s the deal. I’ll remove the gag, and turn myself in, if you be honest and admit to those crimes, loud enough for the recorder to here.”
Harper nods. Zacharia leans forward and pulls the gag down.

“I-I did it. I raped those girls. I killed the one…Please don’t kill me.”

He paused for a moment. “No…”

Zacharia slashed the scalpel across Harper’s throat, cutting deep. A spray of blood came from his throat as his eyes filled with pain and fear. All that came from the man was a gurgle as he died.



Andrea was tired. It’d had taken all night to deal with the owner who shot the kid trying to rob his store. Not only was she a witness, but plenty of her higher ups jumped down her throat about neglect, leaving the gun on the counter. She had to admit she hadn’t thought the owner would shot the kid, but…

She walked along the row of desks in the police station. She reached her own and sighed, idly looking at a few of the papers that were stacked on her desk. After a moment she shook her head and made her way to the break room, hoping someone had already started a pot of coffee.

She pushed open the door to the small room. It had a counter across from the door, that ended with a fridge. On the other side of the counter, a pot of coffee sat, half food. In the center of the room, a table, with a few chairs surrounding it.
Steven Carter, a colleague and friend, sat at the table, looking at a file, his hand holding a cup. He sat lost in thought, looking at the folder contents. Andrea slipped passed him and went to pour herself a cup of the brew. She took a sip and looked over his shoulder, curious.

It was a homicide. The face of the victim was clipped on the top of the page. Something about the face was familiar to her.

“What ya got here?” she asks.

Steven jerks a bit and looks over his shoulder. “Oh! Didn’t see you?”
Andrea laughs and sits sideways in the close chair to him. “I walked right in front of ya. Must be a puzzler.” She grabbed at the file, pulling it away from him. She scanned the front page, the first officer at the scene’s report. She sipped her coffee.

“Not really,” Steven said, sighing as she took the folder away. “Joseph Harper, found dead in his home last night. A very clean break in, almost nothing touched. The killer cut the back of Harper’s feet, and then his throat. Forensics say it was a small blade, only an inch, at best.”

Andrea flipped through some of the pages, not really reading anything. She stopped holding the pages up, seeing a transcript. “What’s this?”

“Hm?” Steven leaned around to get a look at the paper. “That is from a tape recorder found at the scene. Two voices, I’m assuming ones the killer, the other the victim.”
Andrea read the paper. Feeling something inside her churn. “Lucky us…” she said, lost in her own mind.

“Lucky…” Steven said, and gently tugged the file from Andrea’s hand. “It looks like the killer left it there on purpose. Either to expose Mr. Harper’s crimes, or his own.”

“You have a suspect.” Andrea shifted in the seat, feeling jittery, restless all of the sudden.

“One, an ex-surgeon, Zacharia Kirkland. Looks like the second girl is his own. Cold case had a copy of the file of her death. Zacharia was a suspect, but no proof against him, and the case finally just died.”

Andrea nodded, taking a sip of her coffee, and looked into it’s dark abyss.

“Zacharia Kirkland, huh?” she asked, more to herself than to Steven.

“Is everything okay Andrea?”

She looked up and smiled. “Yeah, just tired. Up all night.”

Steven reddened a bit and shook his head. “Yeah, heard about that. Sucks.”
Andrea laughed embarrassed and stood. “Well, I’ve got the day off, so I’ll see ya later, kay.”

“Sure.” Steven nodded.

She went over and poured the last of the coffee into the sink, and tossed the paper cup into the trash. She waved to Steven as she left him alone in the break room.
Immediately she went to her desk, and pulled open her desk draw. Inside was her badge. She tucked it into her coat pocket. She needed to find Mr. Kirkland. And find out what he knew about Bethany.



Zacharia sat in the middle of the small apartment. Nothing furnished the room, except for a mattress in the corner, and a stack of books next to it. He didn’t need much anyway. He ate out most of the time, and had enough money saved to live like that for long enough.

He had lost track of time, but knew the sun had reached about it’s highpoint, by the lack of direct sun leading into the apartment. He slowed his breath down, his mind going over the events of the night before. He smiled to himself, feeling justice had been done, once again.

A knock came from the door. He stood and walked slowly to the door, looking through the peephole. A woman, in her late twenties, early thirties, red hair, stood on the other side.

He pulled the door open. “Yes…” he said.

“Mr. Kirkland?” she asked.

“Yes…” he repeated.

“My name is Andrea Daveys.” She pulled a badge from her coat, showing it to Zacharia. “I’m a detective.”

He felt his hand tighten on the door, remembering the name, “Daveys”.

“What can I do for you?”

“Did you know a Joseph Harper?”

She knew.

Zacharia stood for a moment and smiled. “I know of him. I read some of his work in a medical journal...”

“Is he well known?” She asked, harmlessly.

“In some circles…” Zacharia said.

Detective Daveys nodded. “Mr. Kirkland. Do you happen to know where your wife is?”

Zacharia felt his hand tighten even harder on the door, and felt his teeth grit. “My Wife…Ex-Wife…Is not here. I don’t know where she is…” He started to breath deeply.

“What is this about?”

“Your daughter’s name was Helena, correct?” She asked, ignoring his question.

“Yes. Now. What is this about?” Zacharia felt a rage building inside him. His hands almost felt like grabbing the woman, choking her.

“I’m looking into the death of a Joseph Harper, and into Bethany Daveys and Helena Kirkland.” Detective Daveys looked up at him, her face calm, but her eyes were on fire.

Zacharia shook his head. “Like I said, I read about Harper. Helena was my daughter. I don’t know anything about a Bethany Da-”

“Alright.” Detective Daveys nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your time.” She turned away from him, and left along the building’s hallway.

Zacharia felt his rage come to a full boil as he slammed the door shut. He knew, she must die.



Andrea sighed as she walked along the white hallways, smelling the obvious odor of medicine. She came to a stop at a locked gate. To her right was a window, with wire embedded in it. Below it was a drawer. She reached into her jacket and placed her wallet, keys, and badge inside the drawer.

She looked up at the woman behind the window, as the draw retracted. She smiled and spoke over the intercom. “No Ice-cream?” she asked.

Andrea shook her head. “I left it out all night.” She laughed softly, not sure why she lied to the woman. “What time is it anyway?”

“Just after six.” She said, carefully taking the items from the drawer, putting them away, so Andrea could get them when she returned.

“How is she?” Andrea asked.

“Fine from what I heard. Her birthday is coming up.” She smiled.

“Yeah…” Andrea nodded, thinking of her own birthday, alone in her apartment.

A buzz broke her thoughts. “Go on through,” the woman said.

Andrea nodded and walked through the now open gate. This was a path she walked often, she knew the twists and turns, and even some of the players along the way. She reached a large recreation room.

Two men sat closest to her, playing cards, arguing over every card played, as if the other was trying to cheat them. This wasn’t new, Andrea wasn’t even sure if the two did anything else, or even sleep. She just smiled, walking past them.

Only one other person was in the room. She figured at this time, most were in the dining room, or watching the T.V. A young woman, sat in the far corner, in front of a canvass, engrossed in her work. Andrea sat next to the woman.

“What are you working on Bethany?” She asked, looking over her sister’s shoulder.
Bethany looked at Andrea and smiled, hugging her, getting some paint on her coat. “I missed you.”

Andrea smiled and kissed her sister’s cheek. “So, going to tell me what you’re working on here?” She asked, looking at the rudimentary picture. She could tell what it was, but felt it better for her sister to explain it.

Bethany smiled. “Well, this is us!” she pointed the brush at the two smallest stick figures. “This is mommy and daddy.” She pointed at the second set of figures on the page.

Andrea nodded, smiling. It still felt weird for her to hear her twenty-three year old sister refer to her parents, in such a child-like way. She knew why, but that didn’t help it be any less awkward.

“What you gonna get me for my birthday?” she asked, smiling at Andrea.

“Well, I haven’t decided yet. What do you want?”

Bethany shrugged. “I dunno…” she looked sad for a moment. “When is daddy coming back?”

Andrea felt tears in her eyes, looking at her sister. It was a question her sister always asked, and one she never had an answer to. She couldn’t understand how

Bethany could have so much love for the man who made her this way.

Instead Andrea nodded slightly and looked at the painting. “I don’t know.”

Bethany smiled. “Maybe he’ll bring me a puppy. I want a puppy.”

Andrea laughed and pulled her sister close and kissed her forehead. “Alright.”

The two sat in silence.

“Bethany, do you remember a Dr. Harper?”

Her little sister looked at her and nodded. “He was my doctor, I think. Been awhile since I’ve seen him.”

Andrea stood and patted her sister on the shoulder. “Sis, I got to get going.”
Bethany looked sad. “You’re not going to leave me, too, are you?”
Andrea stood in silence, looking at her little sister and smiled. “Of course not.”

Zacharia sat in the car, staring at the lighted clock on the dashboard. The numbers slowly ticked closer to eleven. The parking garage was quite, and only a few dim lights hung from the ceiling. He sighed, looking at the gun laying on the seat next to him.

The clocked flashed a new number as headlights filled the darkened garage. He couldn’t see the driver, but knew instinctively who it must have been.

He picked up the gun from beside him and slipped out of the car. Slowly the other car came to a stop, and he heard the motor stop, and saw the headlights shut off. A figure got out of the car. Zacharia saw Andrea Daveys step into the light.

Slowly he stepped from the shadows as well.

“Detective…” he said, softly.

She froze and turned to look at Zacharia. “M-Mister Kirkland.” Fear filled her eyes.
He moved closer, making sure the gun could obviously be seen. “I’m sorry…” he said.
“You don’t have to do this.” She reposnded.

“I…I can’t…stop…” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I did the right thing. Kirkland was a bad person…”

“I know…” she said softly. “What he did to your daughter was wrong…”

Zacharia laughed. “And your sister.” He smiled, seeing her eyes widen. “I wanted to make sure, when I heard your name. You’re Bethany’s sister. You’re father was innocent of the crime he took to his grave…”

She didn’t say anything, just stood there.

“You’re going to kill me?” she asked.

“I…” he looked at her. “I have to.”

She took a deep breath. “Do you?”

Zacharia waved the gun. “I can’t stop now. So many left.”

“I did research on you too.” She said, softly. “I went to the hospital where you worked. Six men died, during your operations. Did you kill them all?”

Zacharia smiled softly. “I did. I remember the first one. I read about him in the paper. Killed his wife, and her lover. Got off on a technicality.” He laughed softly. “And I gave him the justice he deserved.”

“You murdered him.”

Zacharia growled. “I did what was needed. I did the right thing.”

“The right thing?” she said softly, and looked at him. “Fine.” Detective Daveys stood straighter and nodded. “If killing me is the right thing. Do it.” She closed her eyes and waited.

Zacharia raised the gun, and pointed it at her. His hand started to shake. He couldn’t do it. Something was holding him back. “NO!” he cried, and screwed his eyes shut, and pulled the trigger.

October 28, 2008

Pool (or not so much)

A long time ago, i was a number cruncher, and did things, like setting up a pool for the primary elections.

Well, now I'm going to set up a pool for The election, just a week from now, and set it up for those who want to see if they're as good as the experts.

Now, visit 538 or Pollster or RCP or whatever site you prefer.

Place your "bets"
Who wins popular vote? by what margin? Obama or McCain.
Who wins each state? by what margins? Obama or McCain.

Thank you.

Coin (Previously Zacharia) Opening

Coin opening (plus a little more). (could be considered Zacharia 3.2)

Andrea Daveys stood in the back of the gas station convenience store, staring at the container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The door to the freezer hung open before her, but the cold didn’t really bother her. She frowned, turning the frozen treat around in her hand, not really reading the information, just thinking. She hated ice cream. It had memories of her father that she couldn’t shake off. Gently she tossed it into the air, and catching it. She repeated this, still lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her sister.

She pushed the freezer door shut and made her way through one of the few isle in the store. The door opened to the store, with a faint beep. Andrea looked up and saw a young man wearing a jacket, his hands buried in the jacket’s pockets. She shook her head and looked to her left, seeing the row of candy. For a moment she wondered if a chocolate bar would be enough for her sister, instead of the ice cream. She sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fair.

After a moment she gets behind the young man standing at the counter, buying cigarettes from the owner. Her cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She didn’t bother go for it. The buzz was an alarm, set for 9:45pm. Her favorite show would be on in fifteen minutes. She watched as the owner moved slowly around behind the counter, getting the cigarettes. Moving the ice cream from her right hand, to her left, to relieve the cold, she groaned.

Time slowed as the young man pulled something from his right pocket. Andrea saw the gun in his hand as it moved to point at the owner. She felt her heart race, pounding hard against her ribs. Her eyes focused on the gun.

Her fingers went numb, and she dropped the ice cream. It hit the tile hard, breaking the cheap plastic seal, and sending the insides in all directions. She felt the cold splash against her leg, instantly knowing the man in front of her would have felt the ice cream as well.

He did. He turned to her. First his eyes, looking down in surprise, then, up at her. She reacted, instantly. Her right hand reached out and grabbed the young man’s hand. She followed with her left elbow, just below the man’s ribs.

The gun didn’t fire. She felt the man’s grip of the gun loosen, and she quickly grabbed for the barrel, preventing it from falling to the ground. The man himself stumbled backwards and fell onto his back, gasping for breath.

Andrea smiled slightly, feeling as if she did some good, before looking to the owner. He still looked frightened. “Don’t worry, I’m a cop.” She put the gun onto the counter. “And he should be just fine, just knocked the wind from him.”

The owner didn’t move.

She blinked and nodded. “I tell ya what. I’ll go to my car, I’ve got a radio, I’ll call this in. Afterwards, I’ll come back, and help you clean up the mess.” She smiled, trying reassure the man.

Andrea quickly left the store, and went to her car, parked near-by. She laughed softly, proud of herself. Not that she hadn’t taken down crooks before, it always felt good, slamming and elbow or knee into a bad guy. It also never usually goes down this simple. Sure, the ice cream was lost, and she’d have make something up to her sister, but that wasn’t going to bring her down.

She opened the driver’s door and reached in for the hand-set sitting on the middle of her dash. “This is Detective Daveys. There has been an attempted robbery. Suspect has been apprehended, could you please send back up. I’m at a gas station at the corner of Wilkens and Uni-” A loud bang cut her off. Her finger slipped off the button on the radio.

“Detective Daveys! What is going on?” the voice of the dispatcher over the radio came through.

“I don’t know…” She trailed off. Two more bangs came in quick succession.

Andrea dropped the radio and ran quickly to the front of the store. Just inside the glass doors, she saw the owner standing over the would-be-robber. Blood had splattered onto his shoes, and the bottom of his pants. He held the gun, pointed down, a gently stream of smoke coming from the barrel.



Zacharia placed the briefcase on the night stand. He slowly released the latches, doing his best not to make a sound. He smiled softly, looking to the sleeping man on the bed. He grimaced, and pulled a revolver from the briefcase, and gently resting it on the stand. Then, he took out a long thin cloth. Carefully he lifted the sleeping man’s head, and wrapping it around his head, creating a gag.

He released the man’s head, letting it fall back onto the pillow. A groan came from the sleeping man. Zacharia smiled slightly, taking a tape recorder from the case, and laying it by the revolver. The man let out a muffled cry beside him, and started to try and crawl away.

“Mr. Harper…” he said, his voice softy, but a haunting quality. Harper stopped, and turned to look at his attacker. Zacharia motioned to the revolver. “I could fire this before you had a chance to get to a window or door…” he paused, shaking his head. “I never miss…” he smiled. The gun was empty, but Harper didn’t need to know that.

Harper sat at the edge of the bed. Zacharia picked up a small case, as well as the tape recorder. He pressed the record button and smiled. “Now, Mr. Harper…” He smiled, watching Harper squirm on the bed. He placed the recorder on the bed and laughed softly.

Zacharia may have looked old, but he was still strong, stronger than the even older man sitting before him. He pushed Harper, making him fall back, and his feet to go into the air. He grabbed Harper’s right ankle, keeping it in the air. Zacharia used his free hand to pop open the case, revealing a scalpel resting on velvet.

He was good with his hands, and easily maneuvered the case in his hand, and took the scalpel, and let the case itself fall to the floor. “Well, now…Lets keep things simple...” In a quick swipe he cut the Achilles tendon Harper’s right foot. “That should keep you here...” He let go of the foot, hearing Harper cry out in muffled pain.

“Now…where to begin…” He picked up the tape recorder and looked at the small microphone build into the device. “Becky Daveys…” His mind went back over the research he had done before his arrival. “You were her pediatrician. At the age of twelve, she was found, alone in her home, tied up, molested…” he paused for a moment, remembering the data. “Her father was suppose to be watching her. Several days later, he was found dead, hung himself, in motel room. Becky currently resides in a mental institution, her mind…broken. She thinks she’s still 12. Stuck at that age for all her life…”

Zacharia paced the room, thinking, his mind lost for a moment. He looked to Harper. “You know who I’m talking about…” He smiled slightly. “How about Helen Kirkland?” He nodded. “Ten. Again, home alone, and the same treatment. No charges were filed. But her mother blamed her father. She left him. His grief ate away at him. Years later, he was left alone, his job gone. He was gone then…” He paused for a moment and walked over to Harper’s head.

“You know who I’m talking about?” He laid the recorder on the bed and leaned over, and pushed off the gag. “Well?”

“HELP!” Harper cried. In an instant, Zacharia slashes the scalpel across his face.

“DO YOU!” Zacharia hissed.

“YES!” he cried, tears welling up.

“You did that to those girls.” Zacharia’s hand tightened on the scalpel.

“Yes, I did! I’m sorry. Don’t kill me!”

Zacharia nods slightly. “I’m done.” He shook his head, looking at Harper. “I’m sorry it had to go this way…” He gave a quick swipe and slashed Harper’s throat, cutting it deep, causing a spray of blood.

Random Puns

Instead of doing the pop quiz this week, i think I'll slow it down and talk about random, and the source of the puns.

A long time ago, when I was much younger, i went by the handle Fighter for all. Different site, it went with my first yahoo email. As i grew, i distance myself from this handle, and really, it was bulky.

Along comes a radio show, and it's lovely live blog, which i used to go on, and make the same kind of ass out of myself i do here. I don't do that much, since when i was doing mock trolling, everyone hated me and didn't get the joke.

But back to the story. There i struggled to come up with a handle. I went by a few names, and even my own (in fl) to discuss the Florida bail out in the democratic primary. I finally settled on Random. A name that would allow me to do just about anything and defend it. I could say random shit, and do random shit, and everyone would just ignore it, or laugh. I could be the court jester, if you will.

From there, i joined 4F, and kept that up, even though i think i'm only kept around cause i'm young and they can tolerate my idiocy because of that. That aside...Not much else to say. It became who i am on here, and now, i keep it going. And it won't stop.

And why do I do the puns? well, that started with just posting things like "Random Comment" And grew.

October 27, 2008

Random Buttons

Since I'm a little afraid my previous post will be seen a bit to literally.
(I was doing satire)

So I'm going to post what i've seen as buttons. (and bought a few, i like buttons).

McCain buttons:
Blue voter voting Red
Super Mac (image of McCain to look like Superman)
Obama spread: I can't believe it's not earned (think I can't believe it's butter, and add the spread the wealth thing.)
You had me at Hero (Gag. Image of John in a flight suit, a youngin')
Martin Luther King was a Republican. (Now, Don't know if it means the civil rights leader or his father. But i think that is CLEARLY designed to get black voters.)
That's not a Tax Plan, that's Welfare. (picture of Obama. RACIST!)

Obama Buttons:
Hope is in the air. (Denver Convention)
Florida for Obama. (Obviously)



Notice a difference between the two? Besides the fact you can't find a lot of variety with Obama Buttons.

Random Conspiracy

How the Jews, Women, Blacks, liberals, Illegals, and Asians are stealing the election for Barack Obama.

Gather round all you lovely people, while i tell you how the election is being stolen. First, the illegals take our jobs, so we can't pay for mortages. Then the blacks take all those low cheap loans, forcing us to take those adjustable loan thingies invented by the jews who want to take all our money. Then the Jews increase our rates, making us loose our houses, and making it impossible for us to vote cause we don't got no homes, and homeless can't vote.

Also, the Jews incontrol of the wall street make it collaps, and the asians across the seas make their wall streets collapse. This makes everyone think George Bush is a bad economic guy even though he cut taxes for everyone.

As if that wasn't enough, the womens force one onto my hero John McCain, and make him look like a pansy whipped bitch. I can't vote for a woman.

And of course, Finally, the liberals are stealing our vote with acorns, and making it impossible for real 'Mericans from voting.

All of this means Liberal Terrorist Muslin, Barack HUSSANE Obama will win.