Myself and Mathew W. Weaver (
http://ramblingsandraving.blogspot.hu) from TIW 'respectfully' struck another fellow TIW, Jordan Bell, lovely man (
http://jbfiction.blogspot.hu/) on facebook. Jordan loves to change his profile picture, he has some kind of 'rotation' thing going on, you get to see the same portrait picture come along every month or so. That's why I thought we'd better 'have a go' :-) So, in an Orson Welles voice, here's a little paranoid, pulp fiction relay story :-) (hehe)
The Rotation
[All in a Deep Orson Welles voice]
Dani J Caile
The Rotation was on. They wouldn't have a hope in hell
chance of finding him now. They'd be as confused as a pig in a sweetshop. The
red flare effect portrait had almost taken them off his scent but now he'd
upped the stakes...cap with mug.
Mathew W. Weaver
The beard was shortened too; the mass of dense twisted
growth shortened to the consistency of prickly hairbrush, the kind you always
found yourself landing on when you fall on the couch. It was perfect. Or was
it?
Dani J Caile
Would they see through his disguise? Would they entrap him
as they had done once before, a victim of their excruciating mind control
behind his mirrored glasses...
Mathew W. Weaver
No. Not by a long shot. He wouldn't let 'em take him again.
Never again, he had sworn... but now, as he hunkered down in the booth, peering
over his coffee mug, the bill of his baseball cap covering his eyes, he could
see them, one at the bar and another by the door
Dani J Caile
In the time it took to eat his twinkie and down his coffee,
they had swooped over him, each taking a shoulder and leaning into his own
personal deodorant space, squeezing him deeper into the booth.
Mathew W. Weaver
"Hey, buddy," one whispered in his ear, shoving
something hard in his side, "Long time no see." The other grinned,
and patted the suspicious bulge under his coat.
Jordan Bell
You guys are f**king awesome. Lol.
Dani J Caile
"No, not now...why now?" He tried to run but they
held him down, their hands like iron clamps. Despondant, he surrendered and
slumped back into his seat. "Now, buddy..." The second slammed a pad
on the table in front of him. "Get writing. We've been waiting long enough
for that damn relay." The first handed him the pencil and he had no
choice, no choice whatsoever. The Rotation had failed.
Mathew W. Weaver
Sweat started to
dribble down his face. Silently, he applauded himself for not taking the razor
any closer; he knew that they smelled fear, and the beard masked that stench
Dani J Caile
He dropped the pencil and pushed his feet, unseen below the
laminated hardboard table, against the edge of the seat's supports. The second
turned the pad to himself. "Hey, buddy. That ain't gonna make it. "
At that moment, the door of the diner opened as a group of laughing business
types entered, ready to order their usual apple pie and crumble.
Mathew W. Weaver
He kicked, and the seat collapsed. One of them pitched
backwards with a surprised yelp, and before the other could react, he threw the
mug along with rest of the chocolate milk at his face.
Then he was up and gone, pushing past the shocked customers
and the wide eyed waitress.
The piece of paper, fluttering like a leaf in the wind,
finally landed on the floor, face up to show to the world in general the words:
"Not today, pal,"
