I'll come up with something in a minute.


I always know I’m in trouble when I wake up in a hospital bed with police officers from four jurisdictions, three military officers, a guy in a black suit and sunglasses, and a small blue furry thing (possibly from Alpha Centauri) and six doctors are standing around me.

It gets even worse when the first thing they ask is “How much can you remember?”

That’s bad because they’re never prompting you for a time or any sort of situation. Never “How much do you remember about last week?” or “What do you remember about the invasion?” No, it’s just “How much do you remember?” which means their going to blame it all on me. Now, granted, it is usually my fault, but I like to be given the benefit of some kind of doubt.

October 31, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Halloween pics!

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October 30, 2010 Posted by | Photo | , | Leave a comment

Tell Tale Heart Cartoon

October 29, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

The Return of Jack Collier (Chapter Nineteen)

The Return of Jack Collier

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay



Last week’s entry can be found here.

Chapter Nineteen: The Three Fairy Godfathers


            I burst into the office while the firemen were still standing with a blanket around her. Greta looked angry and Kevin looked embarrassed. I didn’t see Steve or Jay around, but that didn’t matter because I saw Cindy’s clothes on the floor and her standing naked with a blanket.


            “Oh for crying out loud,” I said, snatching the clothes from the floor and reaching for Cindy’s shoulder.


            “Hang on,” one of the firefighters said, but I was not in the mood.


            “Fuck off.” I said giving him a quick chop across the eyes, which is a nasty trick if you can do it right.


            The fireman fell back, shouting oaths and tripping over a chair before hitting the ground. I grabbed Cindy by the shoulder and lead her to Greta’s office, closing the door behind us. There were shouts behind us, but I really didn’t care about those at the moment, I sort of thought that Greta and Kevin were tough enough that they could keep everyone at bay.


            “You want to tell me what this is about?” I asked handing the rumpled clothes over to the girl who was way too young for me to look at like this.


            “My grandfather found me,” she said as she took her clothes and started to sort through the pile to find her underwear. “He’s going to make me go back.”


            “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”


            “He had someone call though,” she said, starting to cry. “They’re going to send people to get me. If I don’t go with them I’ll be arrested and they’ll force me to go back. He’s got lawyers, you don’t know what he can do.”


            “Sweetheart,” I said touching her chin and wiping the tears away with my fingers. “I know exactly what he can and can’t do. Get dressed and I’ll tell you a few things.”




            “No but,” I said sitting down in Greta’s chair. “Get dressed.”


            “Okay,” she said.


            “Lawyers can’t make you go back. Up here, you’re legal age. You’re two weeks outside of eighteen. It would take longer than that just to process the paperwork, which they know they can’t do anyway. If they could have you arrested, or get the police to force you back there, they’d just send a cop to get you. If they’re not sending the police, it’s because they can’t.”


            “But they said–” She started, but stopped when I raised a finger.


            “They lied,” I told her. “The whole idea is to scare you. They’re depending on the fact that you don’t know the law and don’t know people who do. However, I know how these things work.”


            “He’s sending someone to get me though,” She said. “Someone is on the way now.”


            “Good,” I smiled brightly. “Then I’ll have someone to tell to go to hell. I could do with a bit of fun.”


            “You can’t,” she said pulling her jeans on. “You don’t know what they’re like.”


            “I don’t need to,” I said. “They should worry about what I’m like.”




            “You wait until the guy who’s supposed to get here gets here, and you’ll see,” I took out my keychain and looked at the brass plate. Seven With One Blow. Sometimes it was important to remind myself of that. “The simple fact is that no one can make you do something you don’t want to. There is no legal way they can make you go anywhere you don’t want to. They have a lot of threats that sound like they can do something, but they can’t. They’ll make it sound like they’re trying to be nice by not pressing charges or some bullshit, but if they were nice they wouldn’t be bullying a seventeen-year-old girl. They have no legal means. Unless they resort to purely illegal means they can’t do anything to you and if they resort to illegal means I’ll shoot them. In the face. With a bazooka.”


            She laughed at the bazooka line. It was a good line, and I’m glad I swiped it from the comedian I’d heard use it all those years ago. When she was dressed I finally opened the door and found that everyone besides a single sympathetic looking nurse and members of my staff had gone. I looked around at the cleared room and then at Greta.


            “We convinced them to leave us be for a while,” she said. “Under the condition that Mrs. Gregson be allowed to examine her.”


            “You up for a quick check over?” I asked Cindy. “Just to make sure no one’s been abusing you?”


            “Okay,” she said nodding at me.


            “We’ll have to take her to the hospital of course,” Mrs. Gregson said. “For a proper examination.”


            “We’ll talk about that in a few minutes,” I smiled at her and waved her into Greta’s office, closing the door as I walked out. “Where’s Jay and Steve?”


            “They were getting Mrs. Gregson,” Greta said. “Then they went to calm down the guy you hit.”


            “Get them back up here,” I told her, putting my hand on my sinuses, which had started to hurt something awful. “I need a wall of flesh when the dickhead gets here.”


            It took a minute or two for Kevin and Greta to find the other two and get them back to the office. I was going to explain things to the four of them when the expected guest arrived. He was a tall man in a black suit who wore black driving gloves and smoked glasses. I’m not sure he was expecting to find five of us waiting for him, even though technically only one of us was really waiting. I had my feet up on the desk in front of me and was surrounded by the four of them as he walked in and announced his intentions.


            “I’m here for Miss Eller,” he announced as the door of Greta’s office opened and Mrs. Gregson emerged.


            “And you are?” Greta asked, folding a fairly powerful pair of arms across her chest.


            “Here for Miss Eller,” the man repeated.


            “You can’t have her,” I said, playing with a pen in my hands. It helps to have a prop when you tell people to fuck off.


            “I beg your pardon?” he snorted. “I don’t know if you are aware of the forces I represent. You could be charged with kidnapping as it stands now. I’m willing to overlook that if you bring Miss Eller out though.”


            “No,” I shook my head.


            “Look you,” he started, but stopped when Cindy came out of the office. “Ah, come along Miss Eller. Your grandfather is waiting.”


            “No!” she shouted and hid behind Mrs. Gregson.


            “She said no,” I told him, tossing the pen to the desk and smiling in my most predatory manner. “You’d better go then, since you have no other business here.”


            “You could be looking at serious charges here,” he sneered and then decided to get offensive. “Which one of the fags are you?”


            “I’m the owner,” I said dropping my feet to the floor and standing up. “I came in from Michigan for this show. I’m the straight one in the room, and so now you’re pissing me off by calling me queer.”


            “You don’t scare me,” he started, but didn’t go any further.


            “Pity,” I muttered. “This would go so much faster.”


            “Pardon?” he asked, as I hadn’t spoken loud enough.


            “If you could charge anyone here with something, we’d have been charged already. If you wanted to be magnanimous later you could drop the charges,” I explained. “The fact that you’re coming here with a lot of talk proves that you haven’t got anything else. So, without wishing to cause offense, fuck you and fuck your momma.”


            “You’re starting a fight you don’t want to start,” the man said, trying his best to snarl.


            “Can I show you something?” I asked taking a step towards him and pulling my keys from my pocket. “You see this brass plate? Can you read it? It says ‘Seven with one blow’ on it. I’m that Jack Collier. Now maybe you’ve heard about the seven with one blow incident because it made all the papers. I was quite the national hero for like six minutes there.”


            “Is that supposed to impress me?” he asked.


            “You ain’t bad,” I almost whispered it at him. “I’m bad. I’m the baddest motherfucker on two legs and the only badder motherfucker than me is a cat who is also named Jack and is on my side. You bring legal action if you think you can, but you can’t. You have no recourse, and my lawyers can beat up your lawyers. In fact, my secretary can take out your boss. She is one mean bitch when armed with a keyboard. I don’t really care who you represent, but if anything should happen to little Cindy Eller, rest assured I will find you first and I will fuck your whole day up. Am I making my self clear?”


            “You can’t intimidate me,” he tried to look defiant, but it wasn’t working for him. “You wouldn’t dare touch me.”


            I leaned forward, pressed my finger against his nose and whispered to him.


            “Yes I can and yes I would,” I smiled. “Go away, or I’ll throw you out the window.”


            “I’ll be back,” He lied.


            “If you come back,” I told him. “I’ll have Kevin here to shoot you on sight. And then I’ll have him do one of those tea bag things that the kids on the shooting games are so fond of.”


            He had nothing to say to that, so he left, letting the door hiss as it closed on its pneumatic hinge. I turned and saw the group of them staring at me. I’m not sure, but I think that they’d just seen how the famous Collier Method worked and were appalled by the lack of grace it entailed.


            “Sweet Jesus Christ,” Kevin said breathily


            “Kevin, Jay, Steve, you three are going to watch over Cindy,” I told them. “Take turns, adopt her into a single apartment, whatever. You’re going to be her three godfathers.”


            “Wait,” Jay said. “Is that a gay joke?”



            “Three fairy-godfathers?” Jay asked, looking a little offended. “Cause we’re gay?”


            “No. Godfathers because you’re not women. Three because there’s one, two, three of you. Three Godfathers, like the western. The three godfathers?” They just looked blankly at me. “Don’t they teach you anything in school anymore? Nineteen forty-eight, John Wayne. You guys should like him. He was a pansy. He didn’t want to fight in a war and then played solider for thirty years. Granted he was so far in the closet he was practically in Narnia so he had to playa-hate his whole life, but still.”


            They all looked at me for another three or four seconds, because no one wanted to tell the boss that they had no idea what the hell he was talking about. It’s okay though, I get it a lot.


            “Does it help that I get the Narnia reference?” Kevin asked.


            “NO!” I shouted. “Take care of Cindy, watch over her, teach her how to dress, and make sure no one messes with her.”


            “Why them?” Greta asked.


            “Because they can watch her twenty-four seven and not accidentally seduce her or anything. If I’m going to assign tasks, I rather assign them like this.”


            “I don’t accidentally seduce anyone,” she said over her folded arms. “I have a very committed partner.”


            “Good,” I nodded. “Then you shouldn’t worry about not having to spend nights away from her watching over Cindy until we can get this all sorted out. Besides, you have to run the whole office.”


            “Okay,” she nodded.


            “Keep her safe, watch over her, take care of her.”


            “I’d like to have her talk to a therapist though,” Mrs. Gregson announced.


            “That’s fine,” I said. “Suggest one and we’ll get her to see them.”


            “Do I have to?” Cindy finally spoke up.


            “I think it would help,” I said. “Do it as a favor to me.”


            “Okay Jack,” she smiled at me, and I was sort of glad I was leaving in the morning. The last time someone who was that far away from my age smiled at me like that I ended up with three bullets in me.


October 29, 2010 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment

What’s their problem?

You know what makes people loose their shit? Trying to fill out permits to make a monster for the purposes of having it wreak havoc across the land. I went down, tried to get some paperwork filed, and they flipped right the fuck out. I don’t know, maybe it was some kind of zoning issue or something. They went on for a while, but I stopped paying attention frankly.

I just want to build a monster out of stolen body parts that are assembled in my lab by myself and my hunchback assistant. I mean, yeah, I’m using a nuclear radiation instead of lightning to bring the abomination to life (because helloooo, 21st century!) and some nanobot technology so he’ll be invincible. What’s the big fuckin’ deal? Yes, I’m going to use the blood transfused from children to fill him up, but that’s because I want it to be clean.

I’ts not like I’m breaking any regs either. I stated quite clearly that he would murder, main and create a general sense of panic everywhere he goes. Classic, proper, monster behavior. I’m drawing the line at things like rape, or multi-level marketing. I’m not even giving him a penis, he’s going to be a him in only the most vague sense. He’s multi cultural too, I’ve stolen body parts from all races and creeds. Got the brain from Abbey… somebody.

So what’s the problem? Seriously? Why all the shouting and gun drawing and attempts to arrest and stuff? I mean, it was a good thing I had the atomitizer on me, or they could have slowed my progress.

October 29, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

Birds and Bees also do it

What bothers me about the “Why do homosexuals have to be so open about their orientation” type statements is that they always have some sort of rider like “straight people don’t parade it around or put it in everyone’s face” and that’s just not true.

Homophobes have parades all the time declaring their heterosexuality. Anytime someone holds a demonstration against gay marriage, or homosexuality in general, what are they doing if not telling the world they’re straight? All those religious people are marching in the streets, shouting about how straight they are. Of course, then most of them go home and molest children, but I’m not going to derail this post by talking about how those so-called religious people are a bunch of hypocrites and wouldn’t know Jesus if he called them Pharisees. What is the anti-gay movement if not also a pro-straight movement? However, it goes way deeper than that, far below the surface into much smaller and subtler things.

As a heterosexual man, I can confirm that I have held hands, played kissy face, referred to people as “sweetie” and a myriad of other things in public. All the time in fact. People don’t think about it because it’s considered the norm, but quite frankly, I am constantly throwing my heterosexuality in everyone’s face. It is plainly and simply a lie to say we don’t do it. We get married in large public ceremonies in churches and what not, announcing those weddings in newspapers for all to see. Hell sometimes there are two different venues for the celebration, one religious and one secular, in the same day. That’s a lot of throwing your orientation in people’s faces.

It just bugs me when people say things that are just plain untrue.

October 28, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

One proton seperates gold from mercury

Did you know you can eat gold? Did you know mercury is poisonous? Did you further know that there is only one proton (and one electron) difference between the two?

79 protons per atom is fine and dandy, but 80 protons and you’re a dead duck!

I mention this because people try to play like high-fructose corn syrup isn’t that big a deal since table sugar if 50% fructose and 50% glucose while HFCS is 55% and 45% and how can 5% more be such a big deal? 1 Proton between a nice thing to sprinkle on your ice cream and permanent brain damage from simply sniffing fumes. Chemistry is like that.

This might now be moot since, high-fructose corn syrup has proven to have way more fructose than we’d been lead to believe. 65% actually. Fructose, for those of you playing at home, is the stuff that is bad. So actually, high-fructose corn syrup is EVEN WORSE than we already thought it was. That’s quite a feat, since I already thought it was the soft drink equivalent of Hitler.

Of course, all sugary drinks are bad for you, even Pepsi throwback and Cane Sugar Colas are bad for you. They taste good, and I think they taste better than the corn syrup kinds, but don’t go thinking you’ve got a healthy diet option there. Even a lot of fruit juice is loaded with natural sugars, although I would suspect* less than soda pop has. No, sadly, the only real option is to give up and drink things that don’t have much sugar in them. Izze and Gus might be good options, but you’re probably down to tea and water.

*Note that I said SUSPECT! I don’t actually know of my own knowledge.

October 26, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Cat Photos

Because I felt that there aren’t enough pictures of cats on the internet.


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Halloweenish pics

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October 25, 2010 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

Photo of leaves


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