highfive
Smash Lord
*Note to the reader*
This is my first attempt at writing something that won't be looked at by a teacher for grading. I don't really understand the epilogue thing but I'll try to do a good one for ya.
-highfive out
Rated: erm.. Mature for violence, crude language, ect.
After showering and drinking coffee, Jack tried to remember the events of last night. They raced around his mind. Even so he grasped at them, attempting to make sense of them. He remembered arguing about something to his wife.... A lover of hers?.... No... A problem she had given Jack?.... No... Jack's mental eye squinted to find what it was about. THE RENT MONEY!!! Jack's fist slammed on the small table he sat at. THE RENT MONEY!!! She had blamed it all on him! That he had spent it all on drinking! That night he couldn't believe that she would accuse him of spending it all. He later went out and spent the rest of it at his favorite bar to vent his frustration. He remembered ordering "slugs" as he called them. One after another, often times bellowing at the bar tender to "get him some more slugs to smash." After his brief flashback Jack looked around. His wife. Were was she?
Jack slowly got up from his seat and carefully looked around. The apartment was small but Jack knew she was gone. He checked the fridge to see if she had written him a note. She had. It simply said in a handwriting he had been accustomed to for a bit more than five years;
Jack took this hard. He had cared for that woman more than anyone could. He crumbled the note and threw it away. He couldn't believe it. Sure he had hit her a few times, that was simply his way of showing he didn't want her to be like other women and mouth off to others. That was all. Sure he had spent the rent a few times. She would've done the same. Deep down he knew she wouldn't be coming back. She used Whittaker. Whittaker had been her maiden name until her marriage with Jack. He knew there would be no return. He looked at the clock near the stove and noticed the time. 9:45.
"****!" he thought as he squirmed in to his Geo Metro. It was a tight fit but he made the best of it. Sharlotte had taken his Sedan. Go figure. Due to traffic Jack skittered to work and nabbed a parking spot. The building he walked in to gloated the sign COMBINE SIX ENTERPRISES as if it need to be known any farther. Combine Six Enterprises was the leading company in personal computers. As a tour guide for visitors Jack wished he was one of the supervisors. He wished he had a slick convertible like them. He wished for a parking spot with Mr. Braer painted on it. He wished for a slug. But the only thing he got that moment was a get lost.
"Jack Braer! Jack!" came a voice from behind him. It was none other than his boss, Harold Grainer. He rapidly walked to Jack. Harold was a small man, smaller man than Jack with a neat suit and small glasses that pinched his nose at times. His hair, or the ring of hair around his mostly bald head, was a soft white. A white that told of much play and little work. Harold was of course the supervisor of Jack's department.
"Jack! your late... again" Harold stated almost friendly.
"Listen Mr. Grainer, I know I'm late but I have a great reason. I was on my way to work when--"
"No more excuses Jack. I'm sorry. I'm going to have to lay you off."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update 9/12/9
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack put down his now empty glass with a heavy hand. The chatter and music in the air around him engulfed him entirely. The High Ocean Pub. Here in this small crack of the world Jack felt most comfortable.
"Barry! I need some more slugs ta smash!"
"Comin' up Jack!"
Jack was already mildly buzzed but that didn't stop him from ordering more rounds. In his state Jack attempted to recall exactly what had happened at the office. If felt like a dream. He recalled Harold telling him he was going to be layed off. That he was going to be replaced among other things. Jack had given this one thought and then slugged Harold with a fierce uppercut. He remembered how Harold had seemed to do an awkward back flip. How his glasses went flying a good twelve feet and shattered. How the other staff had looked at them. Well, more so him. Clicking computer keyboards ceased and papers stopped ruffling. After that Jack went to the secretary and claimed his check from a trembling hand.
Two days later and Jack had spent most of his money in that very same bar with peanuts and slugs. Now he simply waited for Harold's case to reach the court and Jack would merrily be off to jail in the blink of an eye. Jack was contemplating this latest thought when Barry reached Jack's table and handed him five of Jack's favorite drink, a strong whiskey.
"Thank ya Barry" Jack muttered, his words beginning to slur.
"Any time Jack"
Jack was about to begin smashing his new round of slugs when a sultry voice resounded in his head.
"Hey there big guy."
Jack turned his head and saw who had been talking to him. it was a woman. She looked perhaps twenty-seven at most with dark, red hair, a clear complexion and lipstick darker than her hair. She wore a plain white tank top and jeans. She looked more or less like a typical frat girl straight from college.
"err... Hello yerself.. Miss.. Sorry... I didn't catch your name." He said back, attempting to sound sober.
"It's Haley Garig. What about yours, big guy?"
With time the afternoon soon became evening and slowly the bar began to vacate itself. Both Jack and Haley talked about each others dreams, aspirations, goals and Jack's slugs from their original landing still stood untouched.
"How about we get out of this place Jack?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update 9/13/9 (Part1)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Both Jack and Haley sat silently in Jack's Geo Metro.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update 9/13/9 (Part2)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Alright. One more time. What exactly happened?"
"Well officer, Jack came in and started chugging down rounds. He didn't stop until he left." recited Barry for the third time.
"then what?"
"Everything was normal but then Jack started talking to himself."
"Did you ever see him do that before?"
"Of course not. Jack was someone who voiced his thoughts to everyone... you could say."
"Alright. Then?"
"He walked out."
"Was there anyone with him?"
"No. That's the funny part. Jack always had company but that day he didn't."
Both Barry and the officer stood silent. Barry turned his attention to the paramedics to try and overhear what they were saying.
"...cohol level four times over..."
"...Instant death....nium fractures..."
A white blanket covered Jack as the paramedics placed him in the back of the ambulance.
This is my first attempt at writing something that won't be looked at by a teacher for grading. I don't really understand the epilogue thing but I'll try to do a good one for ya.
-highfive out
Rated: erm.. Mature for violence, crude language, ect.
"He had six slugs in him and five were whiskey."
Jack opened his eyes. Not exactly the deed of heroes but Jack found this slightly difficult with his normally brown eyes caked shut with eye crust. After rubbing enough rheum to see clearly he checked his surroundings. To the normal visitor it would seem like a cheaply decorated hotel room. Blue wall paper with a diamond design clung to the wall in some parts better than others, chips and cracks ran and intertwined on the ceiling, small portraits of ships that never existed hung silently on the walls and the springs in the bed that sustained Jack creaked and wavered to hold him up. But to Jack, it was his master bedroom. Jack sat on his bed in a daze as he swiped a hand across his face in a motion that stated "Why did I wake up today?" He slowly got up and shuffled towards his bathroom. At his destination he unzipped his pants he hadn't taken off from last night and did what most men do standing up. After this he looked straight in to his small mirror that grasped to the wall above his sink. What he saw did not surprise him. A thick man of about thirty stared back at him. Jack was by no means fat although he had a slight belly growing from late nights, slugs and frozen dinners. His eyes looked like they had thin red strings attached to his corneas. His sandy brown hair waved in every direction as if it were in a parade. His face seemed pale and the dash of freckles he had stood out more than usual. A standard hangover for Jack Braer.After showering and drinking coffee, Jack tried to remember the events of last night. They raced around his mind. Even so he grasped at them, attempting to make sense of them. He remembered arguing about something to his wife.... A lover of hers?.... No... A problem she had given Jack?.... No... Jack's mental eye squinted to find what it was about. THE RENT MONEY!!! Jack's fist slammed on the small table he sat at. THE RENT MONEY!!! She had blamed it all on him! That he had spent it all on drinking! That night he couldn't believe that she would accuse him of spending it all. He later went out and spent the rest of it at his favorite bar to vent his frustration. He remembered ordering "slugs" as he called them. One after another, often times bellowing at the bar tender to "get him some more slugs to smash." After his brief flashback Jack looked around. His wife. Were was she?
Jack slowly got up from his seat and carefully looked around. The apartment was small but Jack knew she was gone. He checked the fridge to see if she had written him a note. She had. It simply said in a handwriting he had been accustomed to for a bit more than five years;
Jack, go die. Goodbye forever.
-Sharlotte Whittaker
-Sharlotte Whittaker
Jack took this hard. He had cared for that woman more than anyone could. He crumbled the note and threw it away. He couldn't believe it. Sure he had hit her a few times, that was simply his way of showing he didn't want her to be like other women and mouth off to others. That was all. Sure he had spent the rent a few times. She would've done the same. Deep down he knew she wouldn't be coming back. She used Whittaker. Whittaker had been her maiden name until her marriage with Jack. He knew there would be no return. He looked at the clock near the stove and noticed the time. 9:45.
"****!" he thought as he squirmed in to his Geo Metro. It was a tight fit but he made the best of it. Sharlotte had taken his Sedan. Go figure. Due to traffic Jack skittered to work and nabbed a parking spot. The building he walked in to gloated the sign COMBINE SIX ENTERPRISES as if it need to be known any farther. Combine Six Enterprises was the leading company in personal computers. As a tour guide for visitors Jack wished he was one of the supervisors. He wished he had a slick convertible like them. He wished for a parking spot with Mr. Braer painted on it. He wished for a slug. But the only thing he got that moment was a get lost.
"Jack Braer! Jack!" came a voice from behind him. It was none other than his boss, Harold Grainer. He rapidly walked to Jack. Harold was a small man, smaller man than Jack with a neat suit and small glasses that pinched his nose at times. His hair, or the ring of hair around his mostly bald head, was a soft white. A white that told of much play and little work. Harold was of course the supervisor of Jack's department.
"Jack! your late... again" Harold stated almost friendly.
"Listen Mr. Grainer, I know I'm late but I have a great reason. I was on my way to work when--"
"No more excuses Jack. I'm sorry. I'm going to have to lay you off."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update 9/12/9
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack put down his now empty glass with a heavy hand. The chatter and music in the air around him engulfed him entirely. The High Ocean Pub. Here in this small crack of the world Jack felt most comfortable.
"Barry! I need some more slugs ta smash!"
"Comin' up Jack!"
Jack was already mildly buzzed but that didn't stop him from ordering more rounds. In his state Jack attempted to recall exactly what had happened at the office. If felt like a dream. He recalled Harold telling him he was going to be layed off. That he was going to be replaced among other things. Jack had given this one thought and then slugged Harold with a fierce uppercut. He remembered how Harold had seemed to do an awkward back flip. How his glasses went flying a good twelve feet and shattered. How the other staff had looked at them. Well, more so him. Clicking computer keyboards ceased and papers stopped ruffling. After that Jack went to the secretary and claimed his check from a trembling hand.
Two days later and Jack had spent most of his money in that very same bar with peanuts and slugs. Now he simply waited for Harold's case to reach the court and Jack would merrily be off to jail in the blink of an eye. Jack was contemplating this latest thought when Barry reached Jack's table and handed him five of Jack's favorite drink, a strong whiskey.
"Thank ya Barry" Jack muttered, his words beginning to slur.
"Any time Jack"
Jack was about to begin smashing his new round of slugs when a sultry voice resounded in his head.
"Hey there big guy."
Jack turned his head and saw who had been talking to him. it was a woman. She looked perhaps twenty-seven at most with dark, red hair, a clear complexion and lipstick darker than her hair. She wore a plain white tank top and jeans. She looked more or less like a typical frat girl straight from college.
"err... Hello yerself.. Miss.. Sorry... I didn't catch your name." He said back, attempting to sound sober.
"It's Haley Garig. What about yours, big guy?"
With time the afternoon soon became evening and slowly the bar began to vacate itself. Both Jack and Haley talked about each others dreams, aspirations, goals and Jack's slugs from their original landing still stood untouched.
"How about we get out of this place Jack?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update 9/13/9 (Part1)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Both Jack and Haley sat silently in Jack's Geo Metro.
"How about we leave this city and never look back?"
Haley's words penetrated Jack's mind, writhed around and shot roots in to his brain. What about the divorce process? what about Harold's case? Jack's desire to take this woman and leave it all behind pulled him with titan force. He started his Geo, turned on his lights and started his journey off without a word. As they drove through the city the Geo was full of laughing and good times. Jack felt a bit drunk but nonetheless drove on. The street lamps cast shadows all across both him and Haley. Her blood red hair switching between shades of black and red while Jack's smile faded in and out of nothing. Jack's emotions swayed as he thought about that particular week. His firing, his wife, the lawsuits. And now Haley. Haley. Now there was a dying man's mirage...--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update 9/13/9 (Part2)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Alright. One more time. What exactly happened?"
"Well officer, Jack came in and started chugging down rounds. He didn't stop until he left." recited Barry for the third time.
"then what?"
"Everything was normal but then Jack started talking to himself."
"Did you ever see him do that before?"
"Of course not. Jack was someone who voiced his thoughts to everyone... you could say."
"Alright. Then?"
"He walked out."
"Was there anyone with him?"
"No. That's the funny part. Jack always had company but that day he didn't."
Both Barry and the officer stood silent. Barry turned his attention to the paramedics to try and overhear what they were saying.
"...cohol level four times over..."
"...Instant death....nium fractures..."
A white blanket covered Jack as the paramedics placed him in the back of the ambulance.
