I'll come up with something in a minute.

Git Offa Mah Lahn!

You remember how tedious it was in the 90s when our parents and other old people would jibber on and on about The Beatles or whatever movies they’d seen in 1964 or talk about TV shows from the early seventies? Remeber how they’d bang on about some idiotic old thing that no one could ever care about because it was crap and not a patch on the stuff we had?

Jurassic Park is 19 years old.
Back to The Future is 27 years old.
Raiders of the Lost Ark is 31 years old.
Star Wars is 35 years old.

You geeks have not only turned into Old People, you are one of the worst aspects of the Old People.

I’m immune to this criticism because I’ve always watched old stuff. I tend to watch films that were made before my father was born and only read books by dead authors.

April 2, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Baby’s First Noir Part 5

Baby’s First Noir

Chintzy the Chipmunk was scared, because the pattern had clearly emerged to his mind. He sat in front of Big Tony and pled his case to the massively fat raccoon, but he could see he was getting no where. Big Tony had barely expended the energy necessary to listen to this story, much less do anything about it. After he was done talking Chintzy watched as Big Tony began to speak.

“What should I do about this Chintzy?” Big Tony asked. “I will agree, that it is unfortunate that two of your colleagues got what was clearly coming to them in such a spectacular fashion. However it was coming to them and we don’t even know that this is related.”

“I don’t think we can arjue that this are is-oh-latted ink-adents.” Chintzy said.

It took Big Tony a while to process this, because he always had to translate everything Chintzy said in his head. Chintzy wasn’t a stupid animal, you couldn’t say that he was at all, but he clearly wasn’t smart enough to look up a pronunciation guide. Big Tony looked at Wally the Weasel and nodded his head very slightly. He then signaled toward the door.

“You’ve gotta do something Tony.” Chintzy said as Wally lead him out.

“You don’ts tell Big Tony what he gots to do.” Wally suggested as he gripped Chintzy’s arm tighter.

“Listen.” Chintzy started, but the grip of Wally’s claw stopped him.

“Just keeps it quiet.” Wally said. “You just keeps it quiet.”

Wally helped Chintzy out the door and shoved him into the street. Chintzy fell down, his face scrapping against the dirt and stones beneath him. He looked over his shoulder at Wally as he started to get up.

“What gives Wally?” He demanded. “Ain’t we been friends forever?”

“You stays away from Big Tony.” Wally said, cracking his knuckles. “Big Tony don’t wants to see none of you bums no mores.”

Chintzy picked himself up off the ground and brushed his clothes off. He looked at the door as it slammed, echoing down the empty street. Chintzy realized to himself that he was totally alone now, not just on the street, but entirely. He’d been cut loose, and that scared him worse than anything. He was smart enough to think that maybe Big Tony was making it look like he was cut loose, so they could follow him and lure whoever had killed Chopper and Chirpy out.

The problem was, news would have to get out first, which meant that they’d wait a while and Chintzy didn’t have that kind of time. The first thing he heard was something smack a tree. Probably a heavy stick, maybe a rock. Then something smacked another tree, making another noise. The sound became rhythmic as it approached. No one was going to come help him. Chintzy looked over his shoulder and in a sudden rush of panic, began to run.

“No good Chintzy.” He heard someone say and turned just soon enough to bang into Wally the Weasel’s chest.

“Wally!” He said gratefully.

“It’s no good Chintz.” Wally said pulling his hand out of his pocket.

There was the snap of a flick knife opening and then the sound of the banging resumed. Chintzy looked behind him and saw Bernie the Bunny with a length of pipe. He was banging it against everything he came near, to make a noise as he walked.

“Wally!” Chintzy demanded. “Wally, no!”

“Big Tony says he can’ts have none of you bums talkings.” Wally said as he plunged the knife into Chintzy’s stomach.

“Wal…” Chintzy managed before Bernie smacked his left knee with the pipe, which caused him to fall and scream.

“You talks too much Chintzy.” Wally told him and then looked at Bernie. “Make it last a while, he don’ts needs to die right now. Teach him about talking.”

Bernie said nothing, simply nodded and swung the pipe, which connected with Chintzy’s other knee, shattering it. Wally watched as Bernie worked, because he loved to watch Bernie Work. Bernie could make a simple pipe job last an hour, and this was a masterpiece. When he finally decided that Chintzy was comatose, two hours into the beating, he finally smashed the head open with the pipe and kicked the scattered remains of Chintzy’s brain into the leaves. Ants were upon the gray matter almost immediately.

“We should probably leave him here.” Wally said.

Bernie said nothing, simply nodded and slipped the bloody pipe into his coat. Bernie sort of scared Wally a little, because he didn’t act like a bunny should. He was silent, and that was all right, but the rest of it was all wrong. Bernie killed with relish, and he seemed to enjoy the feeling of some animal’s blood matting into his fur.

Bernie bent down, grabbed Chintzy’s ear in his teeth and ripped it from the head, then proceeded to chew it like a hunk of tobacco. A shiver ran through Wally as he watched this. Even for a weasel, there were lines. He watched as Bernie happily chewed on the ear and pulled out a cigarette. As he lit it, he had the feeling of being watched, but he ignored it, because who would be in this deserted part of the forest at this time of night?

The answer of course is that anyone who had followed Chintzy to Big Tony’s would be in this part of the forest at this time of night. Anyone who had watched as Bernie and Wally killed Chintzy would be here. Any one who had held his cigarette between his teeth, waiting for them to leave so he could just light up, would be here.

He didn’t need to examine the body, he could tell Chintzy was dead, now it as just a matter of getting over to his place and getting what was his before anyone else. He lit his cigarette and made his way quickly. He didn’t bother trying to separate, he merely grabbed as much as he could carry, which was probably two or three times what Chintzy’s cut of what they’d taken from him had been. It didn’t matter now though, he just had to grab what he could and go.

What really worried him, was that in order to get all of it back, he’d have to go up against Big Tony. As he scrapped more acorns that a reasonable animal would need into the sacks, he wondered if revenge was really all that important. After all, he had almost everything back now, almost more than he started with really. After Louie, he could just walk away. That might be the wisest option after all. Going against these little punks was one thing, but fighting a psychopath like Bernie was more than he thought he needed.

And yet, he couldn’t help but think that there was a reason for all of this. That it was time someone put a bullet into Big Tony’s brain. He could get the other two members of the group and go after Big Tony’s whole crew. He could at least get Wally and Bernie for cheating him out of the pleasure of killing Chintzy. Then he could go make Big Tony disgorge his cut of the money and shoot him too.

Nice as that fantasy was, it wasn’t realistic. Big Tony was too big, as it were. He couldn’t just be killed with impunity. Everyone would come after him for the rest of his life if he even so much as spat in Big Tony’s direction. He would have to give that one up, unless he could think of a way out. Or at least a way out that didn’t involve the bloody maw of one of Big Tony’s dogs.

But still, the image of the clubs came back to him. The sock across the jaw, the boot in the side of the head that made his ear ring and ring until there was just a dull buzz. The way they’d tossed the place, smashing everything as they went along to his store room. The clubs in his side that they kept hitting him with, demanding to know where the rest of it was. The savage smashing his face received when they realized that they’d been tipped wrong and those meager supplies really were all that he had.

That was when they’d gotten inventive. It was Chirpy who threw the kerosene on him, then pouring out more to make a line of fuel so they’d be far away from the blast. He looked at the lighter in Chirpy’s hand as the others laughed at him. The fuel had soaked into his fur, he wouldn’t be able to get clear if the fire once touched him. Droplets formed on his whiskers and dripped off as they laughed.

He got up and ran towards the window, smashing through it as the ball of fire chased him. He landed against the dry leaves and rolled away as his tree began to blaze. It was an old tree, a dead tree, and it went up fast. He did his best to scramble away, cut from the glass and battered by the blows though he was.

They chased him out of the house, guns firing pot shots at him, but he dived into a ditch and managed to hide in a hollow. They looked for him, but not very hard. There was no one to help him out here, after all. Even if he could get the police interested, he’d never last through the winter and a dead animal can’t press charges. The forest took care of squirrels that didn’t store up for winter in the simplest and more efficient way possible.

He managed to crawl to Ruby’s managed to talk her out of going to police, who he knew to be corrupt almost to an animal, and managed to get his strength up enough to get back what was his. And now he was having to consider whether or not to take on the biggest criminal in the forest. This was not an easy thing for one old, gray squirrel to have to decide on his own.

April 2, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment



April 2, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment