 
# Story Anatomy

## A collection of short stories

### By Steven Hammon
### Copyright 2010 Steven Hammon

  * Introduction

  * Overview

  * Grey Goo

  * The Octopuses Garden

  * Deleted

  * A Killer Nanny

  * Prince Disgusting

  * It's Raining Men

  * Love Shock

  * Forgive Me Father

  * Come And Get It

  * Mer

  * Howdy Partner

  * Mixing Business With Pleasure

  * The Boom Box

  * Once Was Lost Now Found

  * Black Out

  * The God Mother

  * The Cop's Heat

  * The Butler Did It

  * Brotherly Love

  * The God Son

  * Conclusion

INTRODUCTION

Inspired by a dedicated teacher, this book has been based in a core idea to deliver highly interesting, high concept short stories in a variety of genres. The result is a little different.

Although the stories are fundamentally different genres, my writing style has dominated the way these genres are written. Some have been omitted.

My light hearted comedy for some reason doesn't portray well, but dark comedy wise, I managed to keep the main story intact enough to have the comedy fit in well.

I omitted the light comedy story.

The other omitted story was the children's story. Although it has been raved about as a great story, it needs illustrations and it's way too short for this book.

I omitted the children's story.

On the other hand, I couldn't help myself in one regard. There are two Sci—Fi short stories which I love. I have a strong Sci—Fi foundation coupled with a thirst for heart pumping action and heart stopping suspense. And with the vast screenwriting knowledge, these two stories demanded to be written. Both have been given highly positive feedback from my peers.

The structure of this book is about what makes a short story. What is the process? Most people have no understanding of what it takes. I offer this insight as a bonus, and to help you appreciate the vast work that is involved in writing.

Typing words on a screen. Some people think if you can type, you can write. Let me give you the basics.

Summary: A high concept is something simple, fresh, and succinct. This must be marketable. Then comes the structure. Three acts, where various parts of "what makes a story feel complete" must be strong and fresh. Scenes need a beginning, middle, and an end, but start late and end early. Twists, setups, reveals, character arcs, McGuffins, etc. It's a work of art.

Contents

OVERVIEW

To start, you need concepts. I brainstormed about 40. Both Unwilling and Willing protagonists. I picked the best 16. Later I realized some of these had some major issues due to strong similarities. More on that later.

Other concepts just failed to gain a high level of quality. I took the core of those and rewrote them into the new concepts which are now in this book

The next step was to create an outline. This needed to have an element of the Hero's Journey.

What is the Hero's Journey? Fundamentally, it's the core structure elements that are used throughout mythological stories which have survived for thousands of years. This is coupled with the insights of Sigmund Freud, into the commonalities between dream and the human psyche.

There is a benchmark of the old life, before an event incites the story into action. There is a debate on if the hero will venture into this new world and there are always people who fear change. The new world is a place where this hero has never been and they have to learn how to handle this new world. A teacher guides them through this process. But soon after, things get serious and there is no more time for learning. It's time to put this new knowledge into practice. They need to get something to help them through this journey and they set out to get it. Once getting this thing, they need to get out and back to where they want to be. But when they get back, the change in the hero is evident. They are no longer who they used to be. The experience is life changing. The wound and ego that stopped them from breaking through before is gone. They have become one with the old self and the new self.

That's the basics. There are variations.

My outlines are about one page and since these are short stories, I didn't go extensively into all the components.

In my outlines, I roughly wrote down the basics of each scene. Sometimes crucial dialog but only about 1—4 succinct sentences. To start the book, I chose a Sci—Fi Action story: Grey Goo.

Concept: A lead scientist struggles to start a nuclear reactor melt down, to stop malfunctioning, self—replicating, microscopic robots, from devouring the planet.

Contents

GREY GOO

A claw made up of spheres, rapidly tears other spheres off the surface, and slots them together like a jigsaw puzzle. It speeds up as another claw helps. The claws are attached to a crab like robot, as it constructs an identical machine.

Suddenly more of these crab—like robots clasp at the surface, as the fully constructed robot jolts into action and assists in the building of more robotic units. There are millions of these robots and they are tearing into what appears to be a shiny red surface. They form a grey tint on the surface on an apple, which is inside a small experiment container.

Peering through the glass, a slightly grey haired handsome man with a look of anticipatory awe, stares at the grey tinge growing in front of him.

He stands up straight and his security pass shows through the glass container. It reads: "Thomas Schakowsky, Chief scientist."

He turns and looks at a younger, beautiful brown haired woman, with elegantly framed spectacles. She is focusing on the computer screen. Tom glances back at the apple which is now appearing to cave in due to the mercury like fluid forming over it. He looks back at the woman. "Claire. Status!"

"The parameters are holding Tom. It's working!"

A grin forms from ear to ear. She is ecstatic.

Tom looks across to a model like young blonde. "Emily, quickly get Chip in here."

She smiles. "Yes sir."

She slides her pass through the slot next to the door which proceeds to slide open. She darts through and down the corridor.

Claire stands with clenched fists. "Yes!"

She runs over to Tom and embraces him kissing him passionately.

After a few seconds, he pushes her away. Distress fills his eyes. "I can't do this anymore. It's not fair on Chip."

"That's not funny Tom."

"No, funny would be saying we should have a threesome."

She pauses with disappointment. "I'm serious Tom; this isn't the time for your jokes."

He relents his facade. "I'm sorry. This is just hard for me."

"So this is the end then?"

"Claire you are awesome but Chip is my friend. I don't want him to be hurt."

"But what about me, and what about the promotion?"

"After this, you can get any job anywhere. And Chip will have all the time in the world to spend with you."

"He doesn't care about me. He only cares about his work."

"You're wrong. He cares about you more than you ever know. Why do you think he works so hard?"

She looks down semi—pissed off with a hint of shame.

Tom empathically tilts his head.

"He wants you to have the best hardware to work with so you can succeed. Don't throw that away."

She looks up at him out of the corner of her eye with a sneaky seductive grin.

"You are going to miss all that pleasure."

"Stop it."

"Licking your body from head to —"

"I said stop it."

"You know you want it."

"Yeah I do. I want it bad, but I want my friend to be happy and I want a clear conscience more."

"So this is it then?"

"I'm sorry Claire."

As Tom speaks, a noise sounds behind him.

She looks up to see Chip walking towards them and Emily following. Chip speaks up. "Sorry about what?"

Tom spins around slightly befuddled. "I'm sorry that I ever doubted her ability."

Chip curiously asks, "What do you mean?"

"Check it out Chip."

Tom points at the glass chamber and half grins.

Chip looks suspicious as if they are playing a trick on him. "What?"

Claire smiles. "Go take a look honey."

Chip approaches the container curiously. He steps up to the plate glass and peers in. His eyes light up in awe as he murmurs the words. "No way."

Claire smiles. "Yes way."

Chip continues to glare in. "I can't believe it. It works."

Tom smiles at Claire and then looks at Chip. "You did it buddy. You're the first man to the perfect the Bose—Einstein condensate implosions to excite Biometric transistors. You suppressed the quantum data loss man. The chips work perfectly."

Chip starts looking curious. "So what steel are you using as the building materials?"

Tom's smile fades into confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The steel plate underneath the nanobots."

Tom and Claire start worrying as they sprint towards the chamber.

They peer in to see the grey goo is now flat and the size of a saucer, growing a millimeter bigger ever second.

As Chips continues to smile ecstatically, Tom orders, "Claire, diagnostics, now. Emily starts the shut down process!"

Chip's smile fades quick smart. He turns to face Tom with seriousness in his eyes. "What the hell is wrong?"

Tom points to the grey goo. "Does that look like an apple to you?"

Chip looks as fear grips him. "Shut it down now!!"

Emily looks up at Tom and Chip with worry. "Negative response."

Tom storms over with Chip following. "Override it!"

Emily starts typing frantically as Chip and Tom stare at her screen. "I've already tried that Sir. They aren't responding."

As she hits enter, a message flashes up on the screen. "Command failure."

Tom grabs her chair and throws her out of the way. "You're friggin' useless!"

She falls onto the floor with torment in her eyes. She starts to stand and move out of the way.

Tom frantically types on the keyboard. "Claire, talk to me!"

Claire reads her screen. "The matter identification parameters are corrupt, but I can't overwrite them."

Tom slams the keyboard. He then grabs the mouse and click a few times. He looks up to the big overhead plasma screen and the grey goo image flashes up into view. He points at the screen and calls out. "Don't let that breach the seals!"

He storms over towards Claire and glares at her screen. He shakes his head slightly. "Reboot them."

Chip is shocked. "You can't do that! If you shut down the field matrix while they are running —"

Tom aggressively butts in. "Well what he hell are we gonna do?"

Chip is speechless.

Tom sternly continues. "If we let them get out of the containment area, then the survival of the world is at stake. Do you want that on your conscience?"

Chip replies. "If you shut down the parameters while they are running and can't reload the new parameters, they'll be wild. Let them go and they'll burn themselves out at the containment field."

"And if they don't?"

"They will."

"I can't risk it. Claire, reboot them."

Chip pleads with her. "Don't do it baby. Trust me."

"Trust you?" He looks hard at Claire. "Do it now!"

Claire looks at Chip with pitiful eyes. She then starts typing away furiously. Chip races over. "NO!!!"

Suddenly the power drops from the area leaving the room pitch black. With a winding up hum, the lights and equipment power back up.

Tom looks at the screen. "Status."

Chip looks on with despair.

Emily shyly stands to the side.

Claire types away and grabs the mouse. "It's working."

Tom sighs with relief.

The screen flicks with static. Claire looks up at the screen. "Let's see the damage."

Suddenly the image flashes triumphantly onto the screen. The grey goo is dinner plate size and stagnant.

Everyone cheers.

Emily sits down at her station. She types until she says, "Excuse me sir."

Tom is too jubilant to answer. She raises her voice. "Sir!"

Still no answer. "Tom, shut up and listen."

Tom, stunned, turns to face her.

She points at the screen. "What the hell is this?"

Tom looks at the screen which reads, "Auto recovery protocols loading."

He looks on with curiosity. "Claire, get over here."

Her smile starts to fade as she moves over to the screen. She looks as the process bar nearly reaches the end. "Oh no. I didn't think."

She looks up at the screen as the others follow her gaze. The process bar reaches the end.

Beeps come from the computer as the screen reads, "Boot protocols restored."

Suddenly like a tap turned on, the grey goo starts flowing like water toward the edges.

Panic strikes fear into everyone's eyes.

As the nanobots hit the glass wall, it builds up. Suddenly cracks form in the glass. That instant shock startles them as a booming sound of the alarm fills the room.

Tom yells, "Everybody out now!"

Chip steps toward the container. "No we have to restart the containment field."

Grey goo starts seeping out of the glass and dropping onto the platform. Tom grabs his arm. "It's too dangerous! Get out of here now!"

Tom pushes Chip towards the door.

Emily watches the nanobots. Tom sees Emily as she watches. "Emily let's go!"

He struggles with Chip, pushing him out the door. Tom then looks back at Emily who now has a cold emotionless look on her face.

Tom's face shows dread. "No. Emily, don't do it!!!"

Anger builds in her eyes as she races toward the platform where the grey goo is flowing towards the edge. She grabs the large, manual override, power switch, pulling it down as the grey goo starts slightly hanging down off the edge about to touch the floor. "Come on you bastard, move!"

Suddenly the switch flicks down as the grey goo touches the floor. Sparks jump to the grey goo and burn it as it flows. Soon more starts flowing down and it burns like a bright blue sparkler all around the rim of the platform where the grey goo is now flowing down. From the other side of the glass door, Tom and Chip watch the grey goo climbing onto the chamber cables as she turns around to face them and smiles. "I did it!"

Suddenly the grey goo eats through a cable and the cable swings down like a Tarzan swing. The drop of nanobots on the end swings with it and drips off at the end of the swing. It wobbles through the air and lands on her foot.

She slowly looks down as the grey goo eats through her shoe. She freaks out and grabs her shoe pulling it off as quickly as she can and throws it onto the platform. She looks at her foot as the smallest silver spot starts growing on her skin.

She screams as the pain forms from the grey goo eating into her flesh like acid. Soon it starts rapidly eating her foot away as she limps toward Tom, Chip and Claire watching.

Her limp gets worse as the grey goo footprints become larger with every step. Her toes drop off and are left behind to be dissolved by the grey goo. Suddenly as her ankle is eaten away, she collapses. She reaches her arm out towards Chip only a few meters away as Chip struggles to get free from Tom's grip to help her. She pulls her half eaten leg around as she continues to scream. The goo works its way up her leg as she tries to brush it off with her hands.

Suddenly the goo starts eating her hands away as she screams watching her fingers dropping off into her lap. She turns and tries to claw her way towards the door with her stumps. The liquid metal starts working its way around her waist. She coughs. She then throws up grey goo which starts eating her mouth away as she gargles. She drops to the ground dead as her nerves twitch. In her temple, her skin crawls as if maggots are under her skin, before the grey goo breaks through. Out of her tear duct, a drop of silver runs down like a tear.

Chip holds Claire. She is distressed and tormented. In shock, her bottom lip trembles as she gazes at corpse slowly being dissolved. Chip shakes his head with the grief struggling to show through his expression.

Tom, anxious in thought, looks at the mess. Soon the nanobots form a silver mound where the body was and then the goo starts advancing towards Tom. Seriousness forms in his eyes. "Think we will win the Nobel Prize?"

Claire fires up, breaks free from Chip's grasp, and punches him in the shoulder. "You callous bastard!"

Tom steps back, hands defensive, stunned expression. "Don't bloody hit me. I wasn't the one who screwed up the programming."

Tears well up in her eyes with a gaze of hatred.

Tom's expression softens into compassion. "Look I'm sorry Claire, but you know me."

Chip is looking worried. "We're screwed."

Claire softens her anger. "You can't keep running away from your emotions by cracking jokes. You've got to face them."

Chip starts getting nervous. "It's Armageddon. We killed everything."

Tom sighs with determination. "You're right. I've got to take charge."

Chip grabs Tom's arms and pulls him around to look him in the eyes. "You don't get it Tom," he pushes Tom and points to the nanobots nearly at the door, "we're all gonna die."

Claire looks. "Oh God, what have we done."

Tom gets panicky. "We have to get out of here."

He takes a few steps and Claire is still looking at the nanobots, stunned.

Tom stops and looks back at her. "Claire! Now!"

She turns and they all start running as the nanobots eat through the bottom seal of the door.

Under the room in the maintenance area, a steel pipe running along the roof hums with the flow of water. Suddenly a drop of silver forms in the roof above it. It builds in size until it drips onto the pipe. As the drop on the pipe grows, a burst of water momentarily sprays out the side of the pipe until the grey goo covers it over. Drops of nanobots dislodge into the water and jet through the pipe.

Tom and the others run through the corridor towards the exit. Many other scientists are scampering around. Screams, yelling, and voices echo throughout the area. They make it to the exit elevator but there are many people in front of them waiting to get to the surface.

Tom yells "Come on! Move it!"

Claire looks over Tom's shoulder and says to him, "We will never get through there in time."

Chip adds, "There's nothing we can do."

Tom turns to face Claire and Chip. "There's one thing we can do. We go down to engineering and head out through the ventilation shaft to service elevator."

Chip has a look of despair. "I'm not going down there. We will never make it. The nanobots will go down faster than they go up."

Claire looks sternly into his eyes. "Well I suppose you do have a choice. Good luck."

Claire grabs Tom's arm and starts pushing him away from the crowd. Tom tries looking at Chip with sympathy.

In the elevator shaft, the water pipe crosses the next to a cable as the elevator passes it. The elevator descends revealing the pipe has sprung a leak, spraying water over the inside of the shaft, as well as the cable.

The elevator stops one floor down. Bellow it, the nanobots eat through a gas pipe which drops slightly into the shaft bellow the elevator. Gas starts filling the area.

People pile into the elevator. As they stand there, Tom sees the walls in the elevator turn a silver color. "Oh God."

He stops and turns back to face the crowd. He yells. "Get out of the elevator!" The panicked people ignore him. "If you don't get out of there, you're going to die!"

Chip looks at the crowd and sighs. "Oh God help us."

He turns and runs toward Tom and Claire.

A tall strong janitor pushes his way past, Chip. "Don't listen to him! He wants the elevator to himself!"

The janitor grabs a small man from the elevator and pulls him out so that he can get on.

He turns and faces Tom as he says "Bye bye buddy!"

As the doors start to close, Tom watches them jam open only enough to see the janitor's smiling face when suddenly a clunk drops the elevator slightly.

As Chip catches up to them in the next room, he turns to see the janitor with a look of worry. SNAP! The cable breaks and the elevator drops with the janitor inside.

Screams echo through the elevator shaft as it falls.

The elevator slams the emergency brakes on and sparks sparkle from the brake pads. It soon drops into the plume of gas.

Tom watches in shock. The crowd stands there dead silent. A crack sounds followed by a roar. The shaft glows orange as Tom watches with fear.

BOOM! Flames burst out the door catching a few people on fire. They scream as flames spread into the room. Tom, Claire and Chip, stumble backwards further away from the elevator room.

The flames lick the fire sprinklers on the roof, triggering the sensors. The burst of water showers down onto the burning people. A man slaps at the flames on his legs trying to put them out as the water sprays down putting the flames out. He sighs with relief and smiles as he looks up into the rain. "Thank God."

A drop splashes into his eye. "Ow, God damn it."

He squints and then opens his eye. A silver glaze covers his eyeball. Suddenly screams fill the room as silver spots start growing all over the room.

Tom sees the people struggling in pain slapping the nanobots which begin eating the crowd alive. "Oh God no. We have to get out of here now."

He starts running as Chip and Claire stand still, stunned.

Tom stops and looks back. "Now!"

The burst of sound snaps them out of their trance as they start moving away with Tom.

In the engineering level, steel rules. Machinery, steam, and pipes run around the internal workings of the science facility. Above the doors to the maintenance corridor, drops of nanobots start seeping through the pipes. A drop of silver forms.

Suddenly the doors burst open. Tom, Claire, and Chip dart through as the drop above them falls like a bomb. It splashes on the floor just in front of Tom's foot and he stops in an instant. Claire and Chip run into him. He stumbles and just manages to step of the grey goo. Suddenly another drop splashes down. He looks up as hundreds of silver dots cover the roof. "Run!"

They sprint down some stairs as drops start raining down around them. Tom dodges drops as he scampers along the floor. He spots a fuel oil tank next to him as they head towards the boilers. "Keep going!"

Tom slides across the floor up to the tanks, grabs the handle of the valve, and turns it. Fuel oil slightly trickles out onto the floor. "Oh Christ."

A silver drop forms above him as he looks for something. The drops get bigger. He reaches down to grab a huge wrench which is leaning up against a steel pylon. He look at it and then at the oil tank tap. The drop above him starts hanging down slightly. He lifts the wrench and slams it down onto the tap. CHING! The sound echoes throughout the area. Chip stops and looks back to see Tom swinging again. CHING!

Tom lifts the wrench the third time. "Snap you bitch!"

The drop above him lets go. It falls slowly down towards his shoulder as he swings hard. The wrench slams into the tap smashing it off. Oil gushes out as he grins with success. Then the drop lands on his white coat. He grins and turns around to see Chip standing there with a look of sheer fear.

Tom is confused as Chip grabs the collar of Tom's coat and tears it off.

Tom staggers before gaining his footing. Chip throws the coat down on the floor. Tom watches Chip. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving your life."

Tom looks down at the coat as grey goo starts seeping through the fibers. Then the oil flow starts seeping into the cloth.

Chip is looking up as he grabs Tom and pulls him forward. Another silver drop splashes down where Tom was standing. "Tom, can we go now?"

They run towards the boilers. Tom leads the way. "We'll be safe in here."

Chip butts in. "Safe? There isn't a safe place on the planet. How can you say we'll —"

"It's solid concrete above us so it's safer than out there."

He points toward the grey goo flowing towards them in the open area of the engineering sector. Other silver drops are raining down from the level above. The fuel oil is flooding the area on the other side. "It's time to finish this."

Tom slams an oil pipe on a small water heater, and oil splashes down onto the floor into a drain which runs across the entire boiler room. He grabs a portable LPG gas torch from a tool trolley, turns the gas on, and sparks a flame on the end of the torch. He then reaches down and ignites the drain and a fire wall roars up in between the boiler room and the grey goo.

He then throws the torch over the liquid metal where it lands in the oil slick on the other side of the grey goo. Flames roar up in a huge fire ball which starts encircling the nanobots. "Hopefully this will burn the entire facility down and stop them all."

They watch as the grey goo reaches the fire wall. As it gets too hot, it burns into a crusty shell. The flames behind burn the nanobots as it moves in to consume them.

Tom smiles. "It's working. Look." Claire and Chip move closer to watch the grey goo.

Claire notices a little wave circle form in the nanobots as if something dropped into it. She looks up but the concrete roof has no nanobots there. She looks back down and another ring forms in the fluid. She watches. Suddenly a minute drop of grey good spits out of the fluid and lands in another area forming a splash ring in the silver flow. "Jesus. Did you see that?"

Tom looks as she points. "See what?"

"Nothing I must be imagining things. Can we go now?"

"Alright."

As Tom turns something catches his eye. He stops and looks back.

Claire grabs his arm. "Come one."

"Hang on a sec."

As he watches, he sees drops spitting out of the fluid, like it's starting to boil, like cooking oil in the frypan spitting around. It intensifies. "What the hell is it doing."

Chip looks. "Oh Jesus, it can't be."

Tom looks at him. "It can be what?"

One drop spits out of the mix and hurtles through the flames like a meteor burning up through the atmosphere. The crispy burnt shell lands on the boiler side of the drain and cracks open on the hard floor drawing a line. As the sliver line is laid out it starts growing into a cloud of spray paint.

Chip looks at him with stern seriousness. "It's evolving."

Tom panics. "Oh God!"

He grabs them both and throws then deeper into the tunnel. "Run!"

The cloud of grey dust starts spreading like the angel of death. It covers the floor in silver as it dissolves its way towards the boiler.

Chip looks back at the cloud moving his way toward them about running speed. Stunned, he stops running and starts freaking out. "We can't stop it. We can't even out run it anymore."

Tom stops and reaches back to grab him. "We're not running from the nanobots Chip! Those boilers are bombs!"

Chip looks across to the huge boilers all in a row leading down the corridor up to beside him. Fear grips him as he sprints past Tom. "Oh God this is it!"

The grey cloud is a third of the way along the series of boilers as Tom, Chip and Claire make it closer to the end of the sector.

The first boiler has grey goo eating through insulation and pipes. Down a bit on the side of the boiler, there is a large main gas pipe. Grey goo is eating through it when suddenly, and a large hiss sounds. Further along, grey goo has chewed a large hole in the pipe and it's getting bigger. The gas fills the air at an incredible rate, mixing with the cloud of nanobots, leading its way toward the flames.

Tom and the others make it to the end of the sector and move through a door way. Stairs are to the side. Tom starts closing the stubborn door. Claire stops. "Tom I know this place from the maps. The ventilation shaft is down there."

As Chip starts helping, Tom looks back as she points down the stairs. He keeps struggling to close it. "So?"

"So they have to maintain the shafts. They have a service elevator."

Tom smiles. "No wonder Chip loves you."

He looks through the last gap of the door to see the cloud half way down beside the row of boilers as a fireball bursts and rages toward him. "Jesus."

The sound booms as he darts to the side and tackles Claire and Chip down the stair well. They fall as another boiler explodes and shrapnel detonates in every direction. It tears the other boilers apart. Boom Boom Boom BOOM! The huge steel door of the last boiler blows through the wall and smashes into a huge water tank.

Tom's leg lands badly and the crunch of bones snapping can be heard clearly. "AAAAAAAHHH!" He screams in agony.

They all land at the base of the stairs Chip stands with blood running down from a cut on his eye. Claire looks with extreme worry, over his eye. They then look at Tom who holds his unnaturally deformed leg. Blood starts seeping through his trousers. They then hear the rush of water and look up at the torrent crashing down the stairs. Tom, holding his leg in pain looks up at the deluge with dreaded resignation.

The water grasps them and tosses them down through the sector. It splashes through machines like a tidal wave and everyone struggles to surface like a wiped out surfer.

Soon the flood calms as Tom surfaces in agony as if emerging from a torture room. The first thing he sees is a sign: Caution Radiation. He gets an epiphany. "The reactor."

Chips and Claire raise themselves up from the water which is draining away down into the reactor room. They move over to Tom. Claire looks down at Tom with remorseful eyes. "I'm sorry Tom."

He painfully turns himself over. "What for?"

"This is all my fault."

Chip butts in. "No it's not, it's —"

"Yes it is Chip. I rushed the programming without fully testing it. I wanted that promotion. I started Armageddon."

Chip sees the torment on her face. "There must be something we can do."

Tom painfully smiles at them. "There is. We nuke the bustards."

Chip looks up at the reactor sign. "No way Tom. That's suicide."

"And you think I have a chance of getting out of here before I get eaten alive?"

Claire shakes her head in denial. "No there must be some other way."

Tom huffs a partial laugh. "I wish. But you know there isn't."

Claire shows torment with the realization. "I'm so sorry Tom."

"Don't be, I know you would never deliberately want this to happen. You're a good woman Claire. And someone needs to warn the others of the dangers. Now I'm not going anywhere so I can melt down the reactor."

Claire winces at the plan.

Tom sees her expression. "Don't worry Claire. I'm gonna save the world. Who else ever gets that chance? But you to have to leave now."

Chips eyes dip down in agreement. Claire leans in close and hugs him. She kisses him on the cheek. As she releases, Chip grabs his hand and shakes. Then he pulls himself in to manly hug Tom. "You're a good man Tom. You're a better man that I was."

Tom releases him. "You to have to go now."

They stand and look at Tom, who looks past them to see an ominous sight. The silver cloud drifts down the stairs like a morning fog rolling in.

"And I mean now."

Claire and Chip turn to see the grey mist.

Tom yells "Go God damn it!"

Chip grabs Claire and pulls her away towards the ventilation shaft. Claire watches Tom as she is dragged away. Tom blows a kiss. A tear runs down her face as Tom turns and painfully pulls himself along the floor into the reactor room.

Claire screams out. "TOM! NO!!!"

Tom disappears through the doorway. Chip reaches the ventilation but there is a wire mesh over the large vent. He grabs it and pulls it. Stuck. Claire still struggles in his other hand. She watches as the grey cloud follows Tom through the door.

Chip stops trying and looks at the nanobot cloud. He then grabs her with both hands and shakes her. "Claire! Enough! There's nothing else we can do, now get over it."

She ignores him.

He clams a little. "I need you Claire. Please?"

She turns to face him as he continues with, "I need you in every single way Claire. I love you too much to let us die down here. Help me with pull off this mesh."

She reluctantly nods knowing he is right.

They grab the wire and pull as the cloud sneaks up behind them. Air duct wind blows her hair back. They start yanking it in time. Chip lets out a roar. "AAAAARRRGGGGGHH! One, two, three, give us a bloody break!"

Suddenly the mesh falls off and they fall backwards. Chip lifts the mesh off them and throws it to the side. He then sits up as the silver spray gets only a few meters away. He grabs Claire's hand and pulls her up as the mist wafts in barely missing her. They duck into the hole and scuttle their way toward the main shaft.

Tom reaches his way through a doorway as the cloud rolls towards him. As he pulls his broken leg through, he slams the door shut on the cloud halting its vigorous progress. It starts slowly seeping under the door.

He pulls himself towards the edge and sees the reactor in front of him. Anxious anticipation shows as he sees his goal. There's just one problem. A two story ladder down into the shallow water on the floor.

He moves to the edge, and prepares to start climbing down. He looks back at the cloud, only a couple of meters away. Dreaded recognition sets in as the throws himself forward over the edge. His leg slops around as he falls and a scream of agony echoes through the room until he splashes hard into the water.

His body lays there not moving face down in the water and the cloud of dust follows. As it drops off the edge, splash! Tom, shocked, jerks his head up gasping for breath. He sees the cloud coming down straight at him. He darts forward as the cloud drops into the water and sinks the bottom, pooling into liquid metal under the water just behind him.

Chip and Claire sprint through the tunnel with wind gusting towards them. The nanobot mist slowly rolls against the wind, pushing itself with wafts towards them. Chip looks back and watches it weave its way around a corner. "What if the elevator doesn't work?"

Claire yanks him forward toward an opening to a large room where in the distance, she can see the service elevator. "Shut up chip. I'm sick of your negativity."

The reactor poised ominously in front of Tom, beckons. He determinedly drags himself toward it. The grey goo flows slowly through the water, advancing on Tom, snail like.

Fingers grasp the cooling inlet pipe of the reactor and Tom strains in agony, to pull himself up to the control panel. He slips and smashes his head against the electrical cabinet. Dizzy, blood trickles down his face. A glance back reveals the grey goo, one quarter of the way across the floor. His eyes widen as he shakes off the dazed state.

His hand slams into the control panel cooling pump stop button. The pump keeps going. Fear grips Tom. "Don't you dare you slut."

With a roar of anger, he slams his palm into the side of the control panel, jarring the sticky electrical contacts apart. The pump motor starts winding down as he looks back to the grey goo. "Counter that."

Suddenly he jerks with fright when the sirens bellow and the flashing alarm lights burst into action. Tom then relaxes, staring at the goo with a look of hate.

Claire and Chip dart through the last of the room as the mist fights its way through behind them. Above them, the huge fans blow wind directly down. As the alarm suddenly echoes through the room, Claire's hand slams into flat steel door to the elevator. She yanks it to no avail as Chip latches on. Both of them grind metal against metal, struggling to pull the door open. The cloud of nanobots breaks through the vent into the room, kept down low by the prevailing winds.

With one last heave, a gap is widens in the doorway for them to get through. Claire darts inside as Chip follows. The mist silvers the floor, advancing on them.

As Chip slams the door as shut as possible, Claire anxiously and rapidly presses the elevator button. Nothing. Chip and Claire look at each other. Chip rolls his eyes. "I friggin' knew it." Claire starts stressing. "Oh Jesus."

Chip looks at the panel and spots the open lock on the side. Instantly he shoulders Claire to the side, and tears open the panel. Wires go into the switch. He grabs the red wire and pulls on it. He strains as Claire watches the low level silver cloud pushing past the half way mark. It starts to speed its rate of advancement. "Come on Chip, I know you can do it baby."

Chip roars with strength as the wire breaks free from the terminal. His hand jerks painfully into the steel sheet metal. He shivers, looking down in agony, as blood starts flowing from the serious cut into his knuckle. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the cloud wafting up towards the elevator. Fear grips him as he reaches back for the panel pushing the wire towards the other side of the switch. Claire gets anxiously serious. "Now Chip. For God's sake NOW!"

A single nanobot hurtles toward the base of the elevator as the wire moves toward the terminal. The nanobot is going to make it. Suddenly the wire arcs and the elevator jerks upwards an inch just enough for the nanobot to miss. Chip places the wire on better jerking the elevator into a constant lift as the deadly cloud wafts toward the shaft like a fire front ominously clawing its way towards its victims.

The elevator is much faster than the nanobots which are slowly climbing the shaft and eating through the steel door. Some nanobots are sucked onto the fan and start eating it away until the fan self destructs throwing shrapnel up the shaft towards the elevator. A chunk slams into the base of the elevator embedding itself in the steel. At the end of it, nanobots flow upwards. Suddenly, Chip stamps hard on the shard of steel. As a nanobot jumps for the elevator, the shard gives way. The last nanobots fall from grace.

Tom shivers with a final smile before his death, as he watches the liquid metal advances under the water towards him. Suddenly another pump starts up. He spins around to look at the lights on the control panel. A red one blinks which was not on before. He reads it. "Meltdown Protection System."

He looks at the water level gauge and it slows and stops just above the core. "Oh God no."

Instantly, he races over to the valve next to the pump and struggles to shut it. Every effort is thwarted. He gives in and looks up as if in prayer. Suddenly grey goo drops straight for him as he painfully darts to the side. It splashes into the water as more starts seeping through the roof. Suddenly water starts spraying out from holes in the roof in other places. "No no no no NO You can't dump all that water on the core."

He attacks the valve again but it won't budge. Splat! Grey goo lands on a steel rail beside him. He looks at the goo, then the pump pipe, then back at the grey goo in the water which is only a foot away from his feet. He looks up as cracks start forming in the roof and more water seeps through.

He gulps as he looks at the rail being eaten away. "Damn."

Suddenly he grabs the rail and scoops up grey goo onto his hand. He instantly reaches for the reactor wipes it onto the pump's inlet pipe.

Fear grips him as he looks at his hand. He washes it instantly and gets most of it off. Unfortunately, he start convulsing in pain as blood mixes with the slight silver tinge on his hand. Suddenly he bends over and screams in agony, clutching his arm. The nanobots eat away his finger tips as the goo on the pipe eats through. He watches in agony as the grey goo breaks through the steel pipe and is sucked inside. It starts dramatically eating away the pipe and pump as his hand is eaten down to a nub. Suddenly the pump stalls as nanobots eat away holes all through the casing.

Clunk! The elevator stops on the surface. Claire and Chip wedge the door open enough to squeeze out. Claire first and then she helps Chip out. They start running. The nanobot cloud is climbing up the elevator shaft.

Tom holds his bicep as the goo eats away at his stumpy elbow. He watches the water level lower to the red line on the gauge.

Chip and Claire are now getting a fair way from the shaft but chip looks back to see the grey goo cloud wafts out of the elevator shaft. "Oh God Tom, tell me you made it."

Tom is slumped over a pump and the nanobots are flowing over the side of his face. They start eating away at his feet and he collapses a fraction. He can't breathe due to the agony as he notices a glow emanating from the reactor. It's going into meltdown. With a raspy forced incredibly painful whisper, Tom stammers, "Success!"

Flash over as a bright light vaporizes Tom and the immediate area.

BOOM! Chip and Claire run as the grey goo cloud closes on them then the nuclear blast ripples towards them at a sick rate. Chip look back seeing the grey goo and shock wave. "RUN!"

They sprint as the grey goo catches up to them biting at their heels. The shock wave rips through throwing Claire and Chip forward onto the ground. The grey goo cloud washes over them.

As a nanobot hurtles towards Chip's leg, the EMP hits it burning out lines of atoms with sparks. It lands on his leg, bounces off, and rolls down onto the ground, rendered useless. The silver cloud drops like a tossed silver bed sheet.

Chip freaks out and turns over onto his back, quickly backing away from ground zero. He looks on at the huge dust cloud in the distance and the grey tinge over the dirt in front of him. "Claire."

He turns to her quickly and turns her limp head to the side. "Baby please, say something."

Suddenly she coughs and blinks looking up at Chip. "Something?"

Chip smiles as they hug safely in the middle of the desert.

A grain of dirt stirs and slips to reveal, a nanobot actively building another nanobot.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"Grey Goo testing works but it soon starts eating everything including the dirt so they must set the nuclear reactor to explode sending out an EMP."

I expanded that into this:

"Scientists male and female succeed in creating nanobots and are having an affair behind another work mates back. The Nano bots go nuts and he must set of the nuclear reaction in order to stop the nano bots. He tells his mat and the woman to go and sacrifices himself. Make it like a horror where a few people of the crew die 1 after another leaving only two left."

Notice the spelling mistakes? I don't let anything stop me from splashing down my initial ideas.

The core thing I needed was a hero with a visual goal, which he proactively pursued, where the stakes were equivalent of life or death. Then I make sure I put the character through absolute hell as he struggles to reach it. Other elements I had were a theme of sacrifice and redemption, since the human side of this man is he had an affair with his friend's lover.

Structure: I start it with the normal life of the character, before the initial event has the hero learning what the hell has happened. Then they work out a plan and go for it. I have a dark moment up further in the plan which allows for a progression from the low point up to the climax at the end of the story. Sometimes the opening can be a dark moment from their past which causes them to be a certain way in their present normal life. Not all of the structure components are used in my stories since they would end up too long if I did. But you will notice they all have the fundamentals.

If you want to understand more about this, check out Michael Hauge, and Blake Snyder. Both have exceptional information about story structure.

You'll see a similar structure in my next story: The Octopus' Garden.

Concept: A depressed crab befriends a baby octopus who encourages him to escape the octopus' garden before they eat him.

Contents

THE OCTOPUS' GARDEN

The ocean is beautiful. The reef is amazing with lots of little colorful fish, seahorses, sea slugs and crabs. A dolphin whooshes past and a stingray glides gracefully back the other way.

In amongst the coral, Carby the crab is sprawled out on a rock with a gloomy face. He sighs, bored with life.

He chews on a bit of sea weed when a skinny little shrimp with hungry puppy dog eyes, comes up. Carby looks down and hands over the seaweed and the shrimp snaps it up, gobbling it down.

Carby reaches back and pulls another bit of seaweed out of his small clam shell lunch box. As he turns around, about to eat it, four more shrimp are in front of him.

Carby rolls his eyes. He then dumps his lunch box in front of them and opens it up. They all indulge themselves pigging out. Soon it's all gone and more shrimp with puppy dog eyes, arrive.

He huffs and picks up a shrimp. He then climbs up the rocks and shows the shrimp a sea weed forest. The shrimp hugs Carby and then looks down at his friends below. The shrimp waves them up. With the rush of a child—like frenzy, the shrimp race past Carby and knock him over. He sighs as he watches them gleefully charge toward the forest of food.

Carby trundles back down to his rock.

Suddenly, a whoosh zips past him. A track of bubbles rises from, Tidily the beautiful Angelfish. She turns and skids sideways to a stop. Tidily trundles back over to Carby and stops just in front of him.

She stares at him. Carby barely moves but looks at her. He relaxes again. Tidily sighs and rolls her eyes. "Slacko."

Carby doesn't move. Tidily slyly sneaks forward a fraction, then pauses, ready to provoke again. "Lazy bum."

Carby looks straight at her. "Go away."

"Wow he's not dead yet."

"Please go away."

"No. You need to get up and do something with your life."

"I'm doing something with my life."

"Which is?"

"Wasting it in an extremely efficient way."

"Fine. Maybe we should feed you to the Octopus?"

"Go ahead. Make my day."

Up on the surface, a boat goes past when suddenly, a half—eaten chicken nugget is thrown overboard. Splash!

It sinks, swaying from side to side. As it sinks, various fish and other marine animals poke their noses up, sniffing.

Tidily pauses, stunned, as the chicken nugget sinks straight towards Carby, who looks at Tidily's wide eyes. Carby squints curiously. "Hey it's not that shocking... It's not like it would be messy or anything... I'd make it quick... Fine, I was just joking alright?"

Suddenly, a whoosh sounds like an underwater gust of wind. It grows louder like an approaching tornado. Tidily then darts toward Carby who gets a bit worried. He looks in the background as a mass of fish dart towards him. He looks up and more are darting his way.

He then glimpses the chicken nugget and his eyes light up as he drops his seaweed lunch.

He jumps up to grab the nugget. Tidily opens her mouth ready to grab it. Carby latches on with a claw as Tidily snatches it with her mouth. She takes off and Carby holds on tight. "It's mine. It was heading towards me so it was given to me."

Tidily mumbles, trying to talk.

Carby laughs. "See I told you not to talk with your mouth full. Now you can't even talk properly."

The charge of fish behind them targets them like a massive dark cloud. They charge through coral and rock crevices. They weave through seaweed, all the way to the edge of the reef. Tidily stops and looks back at the approaching mass of fish.

Carby gulps. "Move it Tidily. Now!"

Tidily turns to face the reef's edge. She stops and then looks between the drop off into the deep and back at the swarm of charging fish. She mumbles with angst.

Carby looks between the two. "I know... But don't worry about it. We swim out, hide, and then come back later after the feed. Simple."

Tidily mumbles with more angst.

"Just go already. I'll share it with you. Now let's go!"

Suddenly, Tidily darts out over the edge into the abyss. Carby holds his breath as he starts freaking out over the huge drop beneath him. The other fish stop at the edge, fins stretched out as if they would fall off if they went any further.

Carby sighs. "Ok we lost them. Time to go back."

They don't see a small shark lining up behind them, looking at them, licking his lips. The shark charges. Carby sees the shark first and fear strikes him. "Sh — shhhhhh — sh..."

Tidily mumbles with a confused look in her eyes, oblivious to the danger. As Carby points harder and faster, she looks around to see the open jaws of the shark rapidly approaching. She mumbles in a high pitched squeal, "EEEEK!"

THUMP! The shark charges through, snapping its jaw shut. Tidily, alone, is stunned. She mumbles until she looks down noticing the chicken nugget is missing. "Oh no. Carby!"

The shark turns around with a gleeful smile and chews with his mouth open. Inside is the Chicken nugget. Tidily thinks as the shark chews and swallows, swimming away.

She looks down to see the faint shape of Carby sinking into the dark blue. She hears his faint scream. "Tidily!"

Tidily charges down fast trying to catch him. As she gets down further, she sees the bottom. An old octopus. Another one. Heaps of them. It's the Octopus' Garden!

As she moves down trying to catch Carby, the old octopus reaches out and tries to grab her. She dodges the tentacle and then darts back down trying to get Carby but she can't reach him.

She sees him fall down in between the octopuses and then the old octopus chases after her. She flees with the old octopus close behind her. She dodges and darts through the face of the ledge heading away from the garden and finally the old octopus gives up.

She hides and watches the old octopus head back to the garden. Looking down, Carby is nowhere to be seen. "Oh no. Carby. Oh God I'm so sorry."

She cries.

Carby is hiding in a crevice in the rocks. Octopuses sleep all around him. He peers out and can see Tidily crying as she swims away thinking he is dead. He whispers under his breath. "Tidily! Don't leave!"

But she just keeps going.

He sighs, all alone.

Suddenly, a tentacle grabs him and he freaks out! Tapping sounds rattle on his back. 'Tap ta ta tap tap... tap tap.'

He calms down as more tentacles half wrap around him. He sits there with a wry smile, thinking sarcastically, "Great."

It's the young son of the octopus leader, trying to eat through his shell like a woodpecker.

Carby shakes, trying to get the baby octopus off. The octopus stops and moves around to look at him face to face. "Quit moving Mr Crab. You're making it hard to eat you."

"Beat it kid."

"No. You are my dinner and I am going to eat you. Ha haaaa."

The baby octopus goes back to taping on his shell, with grunts as he strains harder to break through.

"Look kid, go eat someone your own size."

"No one is my size."

"Haven't you ever seen a shrimp?"

The baby octopus rushes around in front of Carby and sits down like a kid looking forward to a children's story. "What's that?"

"Well Shrimp are small crustaceans — "

"What's a crustacean?"

"It's like a tiny lobster but —"

"What's a lobster?"

"It looks like me but with a long body and a long tail with lots of spikes —"

"Oh they are cool. My Daddy likes to have them over for dinner. They are his friends."

"Yeah but Shrimp are really small ones —"

"Oh a baby spiky friend."

"Yeah kid. A baby spiky friend."

"Are you my friend?"

"No kid."

The baby octopus looks all sad like he's about to cry. Carby feels sorry for him. "I don't even know your name."

The baby's tears turn into sobbing. Carby feels even worse. "Hey kid what's wrong."

"I... I don't have a name."

"Oh... Well how about I call you Shrimpy?"

Shrimpy's eyes light up. "Oh wow!"

With a teasing tone, he dances and sings, "I have a name, na na na na na. I have a name, na na na na na."

"Fine. Be noisy. I'm gonna be eaten anyway so I might as well —"

Shrimpy darts close to Carby's face with excitement. "Show me where these shrimp are."

"No."

Shrimpy pouts. "I'll tell the others you are here."

Shrimpy gestures to the numerous octopuses around.

"Go ahead."

They pause, looking at each other in a Mexican standoff. Shrimpy breaks the silence. "Fine, I'll just annoy you and if you try to get the other's attention I'll hide you."

"Go for it Shrimpy."

Shrimpy jumps on his back and taps at his shell. Tap ta ta tap tap... tap tap. Over and over. Carby shakes his head is disbelief. "Oh God kill me now."

Shrimpy stops for a split second. "Shoosh."

He starts tapping again. Carby summons up the courage and then jumps out of the crevice like a famous actor making a dramatic entrance on stage. Shrimpy is still on his back. Carby tries to get him off his back as he yells, "DINNER TIME!!"

Octopuses jump up awake and close in on Shrimpy. Shrimpy covers Carby like a lumpy dinner plate. Shrimpy's Dad, Tongan, the Octopuses Garden Leader, storms up to Shrimpy. "What's the meaning of this son?"

Shrimpy struggles to keep Carby hidden like a man in a big bag. "I'm sorry Daddy. I was bored."

"I don't care what you are. You wake us up again and I will lock you in the cave."

He points to a dank dull tiny cave in the corner of the garden. Shrimpy bows his head in shame. "I'll be good Daddy. I promise."

"You better be."

Tongan shuffles back over to his sleep spot and the others head back to where they were sleeping. As they all go back to sleep, Shrimpy slides off Carby. "My Daddy is the leader and if you do that again, I'll tell him you hurt me and he will torture you for a week before he eats you."

Crabby gulps in worry. "Maybe I deserve it."

Shrimpy rolls his eyes and catches a glimpse of Tidily on the edge of the cliff face looking over the edge trying to see. She's crying. Shrimpy points up. Carby looks. Shrimpy is a bit shy. "She loves you."

Carby blushes. "She does not."

"Well why's she so sad?"

"I'm a Crab. She's a fish. It will never work."

Shrimpy pouts. "But she wants you to be ok and I want you to show me the shrimpies.

Carby feels the guilt sinking in. "Alright alright. For her."

Shrimpy smiles all happy and excited. "Goody let's go get some shrimpies."

Carby sneaks along and Shrimpy annoys him, riding his back, hyperactively darting around to see everything.

They sneak past octopus tentacle after tentacle. Carby steps over one that pulls to the side. Carby jumps just in time to avoid being touched by the tentacle. The tentacle rises and scratches the old octopus' nose.

With a snore, the tentacle falls down. It just happens to be getting a little too close to Carby. His eyes widen with fear as he dives to the side as if dodging a collapsing building.

The rush of water throws them forward, straight towards Tongan's head. Carby starts paddling trying to get some height to clear the leader's head. "Give me some wings, Shrimpy."

Shrimpy shoots out his two tentacles like the wings of a jumbo jet. His tentacles catch the current and flare into formation as Carby kicks a few times to get some momentum. Carby lifts his feet, struggling not to graze Tongan's head.

They grin with ecstatic success and look back at the clearance made.

THUMP!

Carby is splattered up against the cliff face, with star fish circling his dizzy head.

He starts to slide down. Shrimpy tries to hold him up but he's slipping fast. Shrimpy grabs the cliff face and some pebbles fall near Tongan who stirs slightly. Suddenly, Carby slips more and Shrimpy grabs hold with 5 of his suckers. Doink! One of his suckers breaks free. Shrimpy gulps and whispers, "Mr Crab, wake up!"

Carby is still dazed. Doink Doink! Two more suckers slip. "Wake up Mr Crab!"

Shrimpy tries to reach Carby with his other tentacle but can only reach Carby's nose. Shrimpy starts tapping. "Please Mr Crab!"

Doink. Carby feels the jerk as the sucker lets go. He twitches trying to avoid the tapping on his nose. Shrimpy looks at the last sucker starting to stretch. "Mr Crab!"

Carby wakes up, sees the tentacle near his head and freaks out. Doink. Suddenly, Carby realizes where he is. He looks down as he tumbles back. Faster and faster he falls. Shrimpy darts down trying to catch up. Shrimpy reaches out his tentacle and Carby reaches trying to grab it as he falls back towards a large rock. Carby nearly touches the tentacle. He smiles. He's going to make it. "CRACK!"

Carby lands hard on his back and the sound echoes through the Garden. Tongan's eyes snap open. "Crab!"

Suddenly, Carby recovers from the painful hit to his back and he scrambles onto his feet. He looks up as heaps of octopuses start to rise. Carby darts along the base of the cliff trying to hide. The octopuses move higher and start looking around. Carby runs faster trying to hide. Tongan is about to look around straight at him. Suddenly, Carby feels a hollow and darts into a cave. Tongan darts over there as Shrimpy darts to intercept.

Shrimpy blocks the cave, darting in front of Tongan's tentacle. Carby squeezes himself into a crack.

Shrimpy lifts his gaze. "It was just a rock Dad."

Tongan looks him in the eye. "You lying to me boy?"

Tongan pushes Shrimpy aside and reaches into the hole. He feels around the cave and Carby pulls a rock in front of him just as the tentacle nearly grabs him.

Tongan grabs something. "Gotcha. I'm gonna enjoy eating you."

He pulls in a tug of war struggling. Carby's eyes show worry. Suddenly, Tongan pulls his tentacle out, holding the victim — the rock.

Shrimpy smiles and dances with glee. "See? I told you Dad."

Tongan turns back towards his bed. "Boy I'm sick of you waking me up. Do it again and there will be no playtime for you."

Tongan stops and glares back at Shrimpy. "Got it?"

Shrimpy looks down, acting sad. "Yes Dad."

Carby hides in the cave. Suddenly, he freaks out as another tentacle reaches into the cave. "Well this is it."

The tentacle reaches over and touches him. It stops, retracts, then gestures with a wave: 'Come here.'

Shrimpy looks in through the entrance and talks quietly. "Quick Mr Crab. They're gone."

Carby sighs with relief and starts to come out. He looks around and it's all quiet. Shrimpy smiles at him. "You're lucky you know where these shrimpies are."

Carby looks up the cliff and Shrimpy follows his gaze.

They venture onward, sneaking up the cliff face.

Shrimpy dances around excited. Carby grabs the rocky cliff face and struggles to climb up. "Will you settle down?"

"But I'm so excited."

"Patience kid. You will get there soon enough. Just settle down before you get us caught."

"But I don't want to settle down!"

Carby climbs up onto a ledge, not too far from the top of the cliff. He's nearly out of the garden. He's nearly free. Shrimpy grabs Carby and swings him around in excitement. "Weeeeeee"

Carby shakes himself free. "Enough!! If I tell you where the Shrimp are, will you LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

Shrimpy batters his eyelids all sweet and cute like a puppy. "Yes."

"Fine. They're in the fern seaweed forest in the shallows. They hide like bits of seaweed. Look close and you will see them. Now goodbye."

Carby starts to climb up, but notices Shrimpy's sad gaze. "Look kid. I'm a Crab. When you grow up you will eat me and all my Crab friends. We are from two different worlds."

"But I want to be friends."

"I know, and I like to think we are. But all the crabs back home will be terrified of you. You are a good kid. I wish I had Crab friends like you. And I thank you for all your help."

Shrimpy shows a sheepish smile. He nods. "Maybe we can catch up one day?"

"Maybe Shrimpy. Maybe."

Shrimpy smiles. "I'll come visit with all my Shrimpy friends."

Carby chuckles and nods. "See you when I see you."

"Bye bye Mr Crab."

Carby turns and starts to climb. Shrimpy starts to wander off.

Carby strains to get up and BLOOP BLOOP BLOOP BLOOP! Bubbles rise from his bottom. The Octopuses shudder awake. Fear strikes Carby as he looks down to see hundreds of Octopuses looking around until they all focus on him. "Eeep!

Octopuses charge up the cliff face. Carby rushes up the side of the cliff. The Octopuses are gaining. Shrimpy watches them quickly closing in on Carby. He doesn't know what to do.

At the head of the group is Tongan and he charges up with fury in his eyes.

Carby grips the top of the ledge and pulls himself up but Tongan is heading straight for him at full speed. As he pulls himself up onto the ledge, Tongan darts up behind him. Carby sprints towards the weeds. He's going to make it. "I'm going to make it."

He grins with glee as he jumps toward the weeds. He sighs with relief when with a blur, he crashes into Tongan and falls backwards. Carby cowers in fear. He is cornered. He looks for a way around but Tongan's tentacles are reaching around both sides. "You stupid crab. Everyone knows better than to disturb our garden."

"It wasn't my fault."

"Well I'm glad we can have you over for dinner."

Suddenly, Tongan lunges forward but Shrimpy darts in his road. "Leave my friend alone!!"

Tongan pauses, stunned. "Get out of the way son. I don't care who he is."

"Please don't hurt him Daddy. I'll be good."

Carby sheepishly peeks around Shrimpy. "I'll be good too, I swear."

Tongan thinks. Suddenly, his tentacle slams into Shrimpy, who rolls across the ledge. Carby sees Shrimpy hurt. "NOOOO!!!"

Shrimpy clambers upright, dazed. He looks over to see Tongan charging Carby, who turns to see Tongan rapidly approaching. Carby closes his eyes and relaxes. "I nearly made it."

He feels the thud as he is grabbed. He feels the water whooshing. He isn't eaten. He looks down to see the octopuses below. He looks up to see... Tidily the fish, carrying him. "Tidily!"

She mumbles with Carby's shell in her mouth. Suddenly, she seems scared, shocked, looking down.

Carby looks down to see Tongan rushing up towards them.

Tidily takes off as Tongan reaches up and barely misses. He charges and Tidily changes direction. Tongan reaches out but Tidily dodges again, she heads straight up in a rush and Tongan reaches out his tentacle which gets closer and closer. Carby watches it gaining on him, the sucker on the end of Tongan's tentacle reaches like a vicious mouth trying to sink its teeth in. It touches Carby's leg and nearly grabs hold. Yank!

Tidily jerks him away. Tongan gives up the chase and sinks back towards his garden.

Carby looks down and sees Shrimpy. Carby waves goodbye with a smile. Shrimpy smiles and waves back, as Tidily and Carby swim off into the weeds.

The next day, Carby is sitting in the shallows, laughing with Tidily and they are happy and relaxed.

Suddenly, a tentacle grabs him. He jerks into the weeds. Tidily sees Carby vanish. Carby feels more tentacles surround him. Then he hears, 'tap ta ta tap tap... tap tap.' Carby grins. "Shrimpy!"

Carby is let go and Shrimpy dances around him. "Quit moving Mr Crab. You're making it hard to eat you."

Carby chuckles as he calms a little. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find the shrimpies."

"So are they good?"

"Oh yeah they are great."

"So how many did you eat?"

"None."

"What?"

"They are my new friends"

Suddenly, a heap of shrimp come out on Shrimpy's back and they all grin. Carby smiles and says, "You're a great kid, Shrimpy."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A lazy greedy depressed crab fights a fish for some food and is picked up and dropped into the octopuses garden, and a baby octopus tries to eat him until he tells the little Octopus that he knows of some better food for him, so the little octopus becomes his side kick wanting him to take him but the Crab decides to give himself up. The octopus encourages him and promised to drag the crab out of the garden. The octopus annoys him to the point where he has to make an effort."

There was a major issue with this story due to Carby not having a "Save the Cat" moment. This is where a lead character isn't someone people identify with or empathize with. They are basically the antagonist in the eyes of the reader. To compensate for this, we first take the old life of the protagonist and have them a good guy deep down. It shows the essence of this character as a decent person and we like decent people. So from then on, they can do bad stuff but we know deep down, they are really a good person.

There are other ways to have people like your main characters, but it's a bit much to go into here. Again, Hauge and Snyder.

My initial idea was to have him reluctant, and a reluctant hero is incredibly hard to write for two reasons. 1, without establishing identification and empathy with the audience, they don't like people who don't want to do anything. People like other people to actively go after things. And 2, the story isn't pushed forward by the hero making decisions, so outer forces tend to be needed to push the hero. This makes the outer forces more interesting since they are actively showing their character.

This is still a rather cute story, and unfortunately, the closest to a children's story I could get. Grey Goo is a Sci—Fi. This is a family story. But the true children's' story is way too short and requires illustration. It's not acceptable for book of genre writing. The next story is a mystery: Deleted. Concept: What would you do if you got back from researching government secrets, and found out everyone you thought you knew says they have never met you?

Contents

DELETED

SCHREECH!!!!! The tyres of the 747 smoke as they chirp on the tarmac. The plane slows and taxis to the unloading area where it stops.

Crewmen wander in and start getting to work as some top officials applaud the success. One of them, Mr Kazek, 57, the head man of NASA, smiles as he watches the fuselage door open.

Des, 28, a dedicated data analysis scientist, a bookworm who's never seen the light of day, steps out from the door to see the applause. He grins with joy as he looks around.

Beside him steps, Greg, 36, a seasoned scientist with a joker little prankster devil on his shoulder. "Man it's good to be home."

Greg waves with Des as camera flashes go off. "How long was your stint?"

"2 years. You?"

"3 months."

"No way. How come?"

"I'm in Research and I found out all the dirty information they wanted. Then all of a sudden they wanted me home."

"Lucky you."

Soon they start walking downstairs. Greg sees his wife and points her out to Des. "There's my precious angel."

Des looks. Greg smiles. "You got family?"

"I'm gonna surprise them. Gotta have a bit of mystery and surprise in your life right? "

"Cool. Best surprise they will have in a long time I bet. So who are you going to surprise first? "

"My girlfriend. I can't wait to touch her long blonde hair again."

"Well, good luck."

Greg races down to his wife. Des heads toward Mr Kazek as a mysterious purple dressed man in the distance, watches.

In a small street, in front of a small humble house, Des stands with a bouquet of flowers. He psychs himself up as he approaches the door.

Inside, vacuuming the floor, is Sandy, 24, a gorgeous young angel with the spiritual light to match. She flicks back her long blonde hair.

Outside, the key enters the lock. He turns. Strangely, the key doesn't work. He rattles the door. He pulls the key out and knocks on the door.

Sandy vaguely hears the knock and stops vacuuming. She listens. Knock knock. She smiles as she heads for the door.

Des watches the door slowly opening, chain still engaged. He looks through and smiles to the welcoming face. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too."

She waits for him. He waits for her, confused. "Well aren't you going to invite me in?"

She looks confused. "Should I?"

He looks sad. "What's wrong?"

She's more confused. "Nothing's wrong."

He gulps, apologetic. "They needed me for research. It wasn't for long. I thought I would surprise you."

She starts looking annoyed. "Well I'm surprised by this. What do you want?"

"I... I want to hold and kiss you Sandy."

Suddenly, she freaks out and slams the door. "Get out of here you freak before I call the police!"

"Sandy what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? You come to my door, want to come in and sexually assault me, and I'm supposed to let you? "

"I thought you missed me Sandy."

"Miss you? I've never seen you before in my life. Now how do you know my name? "

"Sandy, you told me the first night we met in the Remington University Library. You were reading The Art of War."

"Jesus. You're some sort of psycho. How the hell did you know what Uni I went to? How the hell do you know what books I read?"

"Sandy it's me Des."

"Des who?"

"Des Karter. "

"Thanks. Now the cops can find out for me. "

Des stands there dumbfounded.

Sandy picks up the phone and dials. "Hello police? There is a psycho outside my front door trying to rape me. I'm at 155 Takenal Street. "

Des stares at the door, devastated. He says under his breath, "Sandy."

He hears sirens in the distance and turns around. He takes off as the purple figure watches from behind a tree.

In a back alley, as cop cars scream past, he sobs. A flash of a shadow startles him. He looks around, worried, anger builds as he stands and scans the area. With the silence deafening, he walks away.

Sneaking through the streets, tormented, he charges up to a phone booth and hastily dials. He focuses and takes on a calm confident composure. "Hello, Miss Ruth Turner?"

Ruth's house is pretty rough. She's sitting on her biker couch wearing her Gothic make—up as she takes a drag on a joint. "What do you want?"

"Yes, my name is Doctor John Maluka. I was hoping you could help me out with some information regarding a patient of mine."

"Yeah right buddy. Who are you really?"

"I understand your point of view Miss, but this is really important. My medical qualifications include an MBBS from Charles Sturt University and an RACGP with My General Practice located at 91 Tilbury St has an ABN 63 200 91 —"

"Alright alright. Let's say I believe you. What do you want?"

"Do you know Sandy Porter?"

"Yeah what about her?"

"She has problem in which I need to know who she has been in contact with."

"Well she only hangs out with Cheryl Thompson down at the Jewelers, and me. Is there something I should be worried about?"

"No no I mean her boyfriend."

"What?"

Suddenly her doorbell rings. She gets up to go answer it.

Des looks around anxious as a cop car idles past. "Her boyfriend. It's imperative that I get in touch with him as soon as possible. For some reason she is reluctant to speak about him."

"Of course she is. The drugo freak used to bash her but that was when she was at school."

She opens the door to reveal Sandy. "Hey Sandy, there is a doctor on the phone asking —"

Des, wide eyed, slams the phone down. The cop car stops and starts to reverse as Des takes off. The cops floor it in reverse as Des bolts into the gardens of a hotel. An officer jumps out of the car and races into the bushes. He slows unable to see. He stops and listens. Silence. He looks around through some bushes. As he approaches the last bush, he stops just in front. Des stays perfectly still on the other side.

Suddenly the cop palms the trunk of a tree. "Damn it. Friggin' punks."

The cop turns and walks back to the cop car. They leave and Des sighs with relief.

Des approaches the Jewellery shop. He looks for a way in. Suddenly he sees someone in the distance searching around — the man with the purple suit. He darts behind a bin. The man approaches and Des scans around. He sees a cardboard box and some filthy newspaper. Madly he rubs dirt into his face and covers himself in garbage — disguised as a homeless man. Hours pass as the man keeps searching. Des falls asleep.

It's day and a man's hand reaches out to grab Des. He freaks out and scampers back. A homeless man looks at him. "You alright mate?"

Des fearfully runs away.

At a fountain, Des cleans himself up, always looking around. He sees a man with a purple hat reading a paper. He freaks out but when the guy stands up and walks away, Des sees it's just some punk kid with a fluro—green top and hot pink pants, not to mention the numerous hair colors.

Des takes off back to the jewellery shop.

At the door, Des looks at himself in the window reflection and makes himself presentable. He smiles, bubbly and confident.

In he walks.

At the counter he sees the salesgirl. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Cheryl, is she in?"

"No Sir, but I can give her a message."

"It's very private. I'm sure you don't want to hear explicit things about her sex life."

She gains a stunned look of disturbing realization. "Oh... I see... Ummm... She's got the day off."

She writes down a phone number on a card and hands it to him. "Here, you can call her at her place."

"Maybe you should forget that I was here you know? Save her the embarrassment?"

She nods. He turns with a smile and leaves.

In a shopping mall, Des grabs a phone and dials. "Hello, Cheryl?"

"Speaking."

"I'm a friend of Sandy's and I'm trying to get in touch with her boyfriend cause I left my wallet there."

"I don't know what you are talking about. She hasn't got a boyfriend."

"Oh sorry I meant male friend. Some scientist geek. Did she ever talk about him?"

"Hmmm come to think of it, maybe she said something about a guy from NASA she was interested in, you'll have to contact Sandy and —"

Suddenly, the phone goes dead. Instantly, he hangs up and dials again. A recorded message plays. "The number you have dialed is not connected, please check the number and —"

His hand slowly drops the phone. "Oh God."

He starts backing away from the phone. In the background a raving mad, drunk homeless man, staggers around yelling, "You know they have computer chips inside McDonalds burgers! They use them to hack your internet porn accounts! They are the spawn of Satan and they are —"

Suddenly, he bumps into Des. Des spins around to see the homeless man who instantly straightens up fully coherent and normal. "Drop it Des. Just walk away and forget everything. Disappear before it's —"

Suddenly, the homeless man sees the purple guy watching them. He instantly staggers and pushes Des. He yells crazily, "I'm not going to abduct you unless you pay me in full Mars dollars you crazy ghost!"

Des chases him and grabs him. "Tell me what you know."

The crazy man screams. "No please no! Help me! This guy is trying to molest me!"

Everyone turns and looks at Des who lets him go. Des is stunned and looks at all the people glaring at him. Des turns and runs away as the homeless man starts yelling more crazy stuff. The purple wearing man follows Des.

Des sees the purple man, shadowing him. Des stops. He turns around and looks straight at the purple man, who tries to pretend he isn't following Des. Des starts following the purple man.

Soon, they start running. The purple man charges into an alley and Des darts in after him. As Des starts getting closer, he turns a corner. The purple guy is there, aiming a gun straight at him. The guy shoots and a tranquilizer dart hits Des in the chest.

Des, stunned, looks down at the dart. He pulls the dart out and throws it on the ground. With the purple guy smiling at him, Des turns and starts struggling to get back to the busy street. He starts running, staggering, his vision getting blurry.

Suddenly an arm swings out from a doorway and hooks around his neck. Des' head stops and his legs keep going as he falls hard onto his back. Suddenly the foot of a second purple man slams against his throat. "You should have dropped it."

He wakes up in a black coffin—like container full of water. He's naked. Suddenly images start flickering in front of his eyes. He can't pull his arms up to remove the glasses. He shuts his eyes and starts screaming. "Let me out of here! Aahhhhh!"

After a myriad of explicit language, he starts to calm down. He stops and watches flashes of a different country. It shows the world from the eyes of someone there. This person looks at a man who says "Your name is John Smith."

Suddenly a mass of subliminal messages rush. He freaks out. "No... No!.. My name is Des Karter. My mother is Mary Karter. My girlfriend is Sandy Porter, and they are stealing everyone's memory! My name is Des Karter. My mother..."

He continues over and over as the images continue to bombard him.

After days of being in this state, exhausted, he is on the verge of passing out but continues his mantra.

Suddenly, the chamber clunks. He shuts up, worried, waiting. Another clunk and the chamber opens. He tries to lift his arms but he's exhausted. A purple dressed guard and the scientist grab his arms and pull him from the chamber. He struggles. Like a madman, he blabbers the mantra, barely understandable. "My name is Des Karter. My mother is Mary Karter. My girlfriend is Sandy Porter, and you are stealing everyone's memory!"

They viciously throw him on a stretcher but as they do, he snaps out of his insanity. The guard sees Des is alert and focused. His eyes widen with worry as Des struggles. The guard and the scientist battle to hold him down. The scientist reaches his hand down for the tranquilizer gun but it's not there. The scientist freaks out.

Suddenly Des aims and shoots the guard. Des struggles on the stretcher as they fight. Des overcomes and pushes the guard away. The scientist flees in fear sprinting towards the emergency alarm button, as Des sits up on the stretcher and shoots him in the back. The scientist starts to slow as Des rolls off the stretcher.

He staggers over to the scientist who is struggling to reach up towards the alarm. Des stands over him watching him about to push the button until Des punches him hard in the face, knocking him out cold.

The guard is half squirming on the floor. Des strolls up to him and grabs his fingers. "You know what I remember about this tranquilizer?.. It didn't numb any of the pain."

Des grabs the guard's finger and snaps it. The guard tries to scream but due to the slowness of the drug, it's a painful groan. Des looks at him with a stern gaze. "Which way do I get out?"

Wearing the scientist's clothes, he staggers towards the exit when a guard sees him. "Hey you, where do you think you're going?"

Des ignores him and heads for the exit which he can see up ahead. The guard's suspicion grows. "Stop right there!"

Des sprints for the door. As the alarm goes off, the guard gives chase. Des darts out the door and sprints down a side alley. The guard comes out and races to the alley and looks but can't see Des anywhere. He gives up and heads back to the facility. Des is hiding behind a bin.

On the street, Des makes his way to his mum's place. He knows the gate mechanism off by heart and walks up the stairs like he has numerous times before. He knocks on the door.

The door cautiously opens, chain still engaged. He looks through and sees the face of Mary, 52, a lovely old woman with a heart of gold. Des smiles at the welcoming face. "Boy am I glad to see —"

"What do you want?"

Des' expression deflates. "Um... I'm hoping you can help me. I'm wondering if you have a son who is a scientist at NASA?

She tilts her head apologetically with no emotion but pity. "I'm sorry but I have never had a son."

He's about to cry. "Are you Mary Karter?"

She gets suspicious. "Yes... Who are you?"

He notices her suspicion and he's torn. He struggles to respond. "Um I'm, a nobody."

She then gets to the point. "Ok so what are you doing here?"

He pulls himself together. "Well... I want to say, that if you ever did have a son, you should know that he would love you more than life itself."

Her brow furrows in confusion. His torment escalates as he turns and walks away. She watches him, then shakes her head at his weirdness. She closes the door with a glint of sympathy.

Night time and Des is angry, staking out the front of the place he escaped from.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of an old purple shadow man in the distance. Des evilly smiles.

Suddenly, he runs and the shadow man gives chase. Another purple guard joins in the chase. Des sprints down an alley. One guard follows as the other guard goes around to cut him off.

As the first guard sprints through the seemingly empty alley, a baseball bat swings from a dark recess in a wall. Des hastily grabs the man's hands and ties them with a plastic zip tie. He then quickly ties a gag around his mouth and head. He opens a man hole to the sewers and pushes the man down. The guy struggles to stay out of the hole as Des bashes him down with the baseball bat. Des then heads down after him and replaces the man hole.

As the man hole closes, the other guard comes around the corner and finds nothing, wondering where they have gone.

WHACK! Des punches the guard's bludgeoned face again. "Why do you keep chasing me?"

The guard is freaking out. "I don't know what you're talking about. You are my first assignment. I graduated this morning."

Des looks puzzled. "But you must be like 50 years old. Why would they train someone so old?"

"They train people all the time."

"So you don't know who I am?"

I have no idea I swear. "They just said to keep an eye on you and to bring you in if you started breaching protocols."

"What protocols?"

"Contacting certain people or trying to evade us."

"What else?"

"Huh?"

"Why did they wipe their memories?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

The guy stays there speechless, not knowing what to say. Des' rage builds as he punches the old guy again. "AAAHHHHH I swear I have no idea what you are talking about."

Des pushes the guys face into the filthy water and the old guy starts to give up the struggle, nearly drowning. Des lifts him up and the old guy gasps for breath and starts sobbing, crying for his life. "Please don't kill me, I have a wife and kids..."

The old guy fully cries.

Suddenly, Des lets the old guy go.

The next day, Des walks up to a rich businessman and holds the baseball bat up ready to bash the businessman. "Money. Now!"

Dusk in a back alley, Des hands money over to a young gang member. The guy hands over an UZI sub machine gun and a bag full of ammo.

Night at the facility, he stands outside the doors and locks a magazine of bullets into the gun. "Time to wipe you punks out of existence."

Crunch, the door bursts open and the guard sees Des coming in. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm nobody, you punk."

The guard starts to raise the tranquilizer gun and Des aims the Uzi. A spray of bullets leave the short barrel.

He power walks through halls. Shots echo through the building.

Suddenly, he bursts through the main office door. A tranquilizer shot whizzes past his head as he turns to the side avoiding it. He lifts the Uzi to point straight at the Boss. "Don't you dare move you scum sucking pig!"

The Boss puts the tranquilizer gun down on the table. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the poor bastard whose life you have been screwing with and now it's payback time."

"I don't understand"

"Do you understand that if I don't get my answers, you're a dead man?"

The Boss gulps and sits at the desk. "What do you want to know?"

"What the hell have you bastards done to me?

"I don't know what we have done —"

"Don't piss me off. You try to wipe my existence from the minds of my family and friends and you think I won't retaliate?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Des shudders with rage and yells. "Don't bloody lie to me!"

The Boss thinks quickly. "Look man, I took over as the CEO yesterday. I don't know what's going on. Please let me know what I can do for you?"

Des is tormented and starts to lower the gun. The boss notices his distraction and reaches into a drawer. A tear of torment trickles down Des' face. Rage builds. "You can die."

Des raises the Uzi slowly but the CEO jerks a handgun out and shoots Des between the eyes. Des falls to the floor dead.

The next day, out the front of the facility, some purple guards are standing around Des' body which lies in a puddle of blood, next to a big garbage bin.

The old guard who Des interrogated in the sewer still has the cuts from the beating. He is talking to the Boss. "Yes sir, I came out and found this Guy. We have no idea how he got here sir."

"Any idea who he is?"

"No sir. Never seen him in my life."

"Great. Call the police."

"Yes sir."

The Boss steps over and looks at the corpse. "Isn't this a great way to start my first day as the new CEO?"

The old guard looks surprised. "Hey, what a coincidence? Today I get my first assignment."

In the shadows, evilly watching from a distance, is a man dressed entirely in purple.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"An Astronaut returns from duty and looks for his girlfriend. Her mother says she never existed. He starts asking others who knew her until he notices he is being followed. Suddenly he is kidnapped and wakes up in a strange place before he escapes. The guys are after him and he gets out. He sees his friends and they don't recognize him. His mother thinks he's some loon off the street. The guys that are after him fall into his trap and let him know that he is the first guy they have ever been after. Suddenly others smack him in the head. The next day, the two guys that were after him get an order to go get someone. They smile at each other. Awesome our first assignment."

They are a little too long but this was the core of my idea. It's what I needed to know in order to base the rest of the story on.

This is different from the previous two since they had a crystal clear plot which left the reader with a completed story. Characters get into some trouble which is fully understood, then they balance on the verge of death, struggling to reach their goal to achieve peace. But this is a mystery. The story is an unraveling puzzle, only to have a large portion of the puzzle unanswered, yet enough answers to allow the reader to continue thinking about what the completed story puzzle looks like.

In this, I give the "What, when, why, who but not the How. Yet at the end, you find out the How and Who are still left unanswered with a new level of Who is responsible. What = memory wiping. When = just before he arrived and while he is there. Why = because he found out some dirty secrets. Who? The mysterious men. How? We don't know since when this answer is about to be revealed, we find out that Who is someone even higher than this entire operation. But I deliver it with a subtext punch.

But enough of the gloom. Time for a dark comedy laugh. A Killer Nanny

Concept: An assassin, who accidently kills people on a regular basis, is given the job of babysitting the boss' extremely aggravating niece.

Contents

A KILLER NANNY

In a huge office with a huge desk and huge windows looking out over the huge day lit city, a huge man sits behind a huge name plague on the desk which reads, "Antonio Crackillous."

He stands with a furious gaze at the weasel of a man, Shannon Tool.

"Are you telling me he won't cap the little bitch?"

"Sir she's innocent —"

"Innocent? Innocent? She called me fat!!!"

"But I can't find any hit man willing to tag her."

"Get me Tinsel."

"But Sir, you can't be —"

"I'm deadly serious."

"But he's a psycho."

"Exactly."

Tinsel, is twenty one year old and he paces through the smoky sun beams in the condemned hotel room. He has a hand gun in hand. He puts it to his temple and pulls the trigger. Click, Click.

He keeps clicking away at his temple as he thinks.

Knock knock. Tinsel freaks out and instinctively points the gun at the door with lightning speed and rapidly pulls the trigger.

Knock knock. Tinsel's eyes break from the trance as he whacks a clip in the butt of the gun.

Tinsel's back is against the wall.

"Name!"

"Shannon."

"Alone?"

"Yes sir."

The door swings open. Tinsel grabs Shannon by the hair, and wrenches him off the ground, through the air, and onto the floor.

"What took you so long?"

"It wasn't me, it was the Antonio. He made me go elsewhere."

"That bastard."

Tinsel stands on Shannon's chest, walking as if Shannon isn't there.

"Talk."

"Antonio wants you to kill his niece and you better not screw this up or else."

Tinsel stops. His bottom jaw starts trembling in anger. He turns to see Shannon getting up.

"Or else what?"

"You will... pay."

Tinsel snaps and grabs Shannon, pushes him up against the window and puts the gun to his head. "Oh I'm gonna pay am I?"

"No no"

"And now you lie to my face?"

"No no"

"And now you lie to me about lying!"

Shannon begs, starting to cry. "Please I don't want to die."

He wets his pants.

"Now you piss on my floor! You seriously want to die don't you?"

Shannon's face relaxes into acceptance of his fate. He sighs.

"I'm sorry Tinsel. Tell Antonio it was my fault."

Tinsel watches Shannon accept his death and pauses in confusion.

Anger builds up as he blindly points the gun at the widow and squeezes off a round. Crack!

Tinsel let's Shannon go and walks away from the window, as in the background on the balcony of the building across the street, a man holds his chest, keels over, and falls off the edge.

"Fine." Tinsel turns around, and pushes the gun into Shannon's chest. "Clean up this mess."

Shannon grabs the gun as he steps back to gain his balance. Tinsel turns and power walks for the door. Shannon's heel catches on a raised floor board. Tinsel reaches for the door handle. Shannon throws his arms back to stop himself falling. The gun handle smashes the window with the bullet hole. Tinsel turns as he says "I'm surprised I didn't kill you."

At that instant, he sees Shannon fall out the window. Tinsel stands there expressionless as the girly scream fades into nothing.

"Oops."

Antonio angrily paces his bright office as Tinsel barges in. Antonio takes on a polite nice facade as Tinsel bellows, "I want two hundred thousand."

"I'm sorry Tinsel."

"Fine, one hundred."

"It's not a matter of price Tinsel. I was overreacting."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't kill my niece. She's a little bitch and I'll make her pay but I can't kill her. I can't afford it."

"I don't cost that much."

"It's not money that it would cost me."

"Please Antonio, I need the work. You're killing me here."

"I'll ask Shannon what he can do for you."

"Um about Shannon?"

"What about him? Where is he?

"He took a trip."

"What do you mean?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault."

"What wasn't your fault?"

Tinsel looks down guilty.

"You didn't."

Tinsel looks up sheepishly.

"Jesus Tinsel. He was a great worker."

"Look man I'll do anything for a job. I just need some money."

"You're a loose cannon Tinsel. Yeah you get the job done but you cost me more money than your worth."

"It won't happen again I promise."

"You couldn't stop even if you tried."

"I can too."

"Can not."

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"I CAN!!"

Antonio pauses, frustrated.

"Prove it."

"OK."

Knock knock. Antonio looks at the office door. "What is it Agnes?"

The door cracks open and shy Agnes meekly peeps through the door.

"Your sister said you have to baby sit Daria again today."

"Jesus Christ. No way. No way!"

Tinsel's eyes light up as he watches Agnes shut the door. "I'm still happy to take care of her for the right price."

"Tinsel, I can't give you work unless you prove you can be trusted."

"You name it, I'll do it."

"You serious?"

"I told you, I need the money."

"OK then. I got a job for you. You pull this off and I will give you heaps of work. If you screw it up, I'll make sure someone cuts you up. Millimeter by millimeter."

Tinsel gulps. "Ok. Cool. Who's the job?"

"My niece."

Tinsel looks at him suspiciously. "But I want decent money."

"You will. Thirty dollars an hour."

"What?"

"You're her new nanny."

Antonio slams down her file on the desk. "Make her clean her room, do her homework, and stop her boyfriend from being a bad influence. Remember, you kill anyone and you will never get anything from me ever again."

"Fine. How bad can she be?

In the morning light Tinsel approaches a super rich house. The front door bursts open and a middle aged woman with torn clothes, messed hair, and a terrified bleeding face, scurries out and slams the door. She's sobbing with post traumatic stress. Teenage girl abuse bellows from inside.

Tinsel, shocked, looks at her as she hysterically runs down the street. He turns and walks up towards the door of the house. He hesitates on the steps. He nearly walks away but pauses. He rolls his eyes and determinedly turns back and storms toward the door.

As he reaches for the door handle, the door quickly opens and the seventeen year old sexy girl stands at the door with the most innocent eye flutter you have ever seen. In her arms is a matching Chihuahua.

"Hello. Who might you be?"

"They call me Tinsel and I'm your new Nanny."

She tries not to laugh but the emotion overwhelms her, forcing its way through. She laughs at him as she shuts the door in his face.

She walks off down the hall as CRUNCH! Splinters off wood hurtle past her as the door smashes the lock, and swings open punching a hole in the wall. She shudders in fright as she stops and looks back. The Chihuahua barks its head off. Tinsel stands there with a look of hate. She gives an evil seductive grin as he hides his anger and asks politely, "May I come in?"

She looks up and left in thought. "OK. Be my guest."

He walks up to her as she drops the dog on the floor. It backs up behind her and growls from a distance. She stands in Tinsel's way. He tries to walk around and she constantly stands in his road. He stops standing over her with an ominous gaze. She reaches up curiously and grabs his shoulders, just before she knees him in the balls. She steps back a step so he can bow over in pain.

Suddenly he lifts himself up and back hands her in the head. A spray of blood bursts out as her feet leave the ground. She flies back four feet and through the wall. Plaster dust goes everywhere and a Van Gogh painting falls, smashing on the floor.

The dog barks and snarls at him so he grits his teeth and roars back. Fear grips it and it flees out of sight.

He limps up to the hole as a noise to the side grabs his attention. A dusty figure comes around the corner. She stands there with blood flowing out of her nose, washing the dust down her neck. She smiles. "You hit like a bitch."

"Nice to meet you too."

She walks toward the lounge room and he limps after her.

"So what are you doing here?

"I'm here to make you do your homework, clean your room, and be good."

"Ha, fat chance."

"We'll see."

"Well I might just tell my mum that you tried to rape me."

"Well then if I'm gonna pay for the crime, I might as well get my money's worth."

Her smile fades. "Who sent you?"

"Antonio."

"That fat prick. You work for him?"

"Maybe. That's if I don't kill you."

"Well I might just tell my mum that he tried to rape me. Then where will you go for work?"

She stops and glares at him. He gulps. "Man I thought I was evil."

She laughs and walks away towards the bathroom.

"By the way, my girlfriend, Sarah, she's coming around soon so you better be nice to her."

As sink water trickles in the bathroom, he paces the floor uncomfortably. He stops and unzips his pants. He pulls his underwear away from his stomach, reaches in with his other hand, and has a good look.

Sarah, a tramp looking teenager, stands at the door sucking on a lolly pop, and watches him. "Oh my God!"

He looks up and the instant he sees her, embarrassment shows and he rapidly turns away. He pulls his hand out of his pants to see blood on his fingers. He looks up in the air and his head sways, on the verge of crying. He sighs as he wipes the blood on his jeans and zips up his fly. He spins around gritting his teeth in a polite smile. "That wasn't what you think."

She seductively smiles at him as she sexually sucks on the lolly pop. "I know. You weren't flogging your log, like a sicko. You would have to be able to find it to do that."

His embarrassed smile fades into anger.

"So what's a woosey wanker like you doing here besides being a pedophile?"

"Trying not to be a psycho killer."

"Yeah good one fugly. So where is my precious?"

He grits his teeth and forces out the polite words: "Daria is in the bathroom."

Sarah steps up to the bathroom door. "Hey sexy! Guess who."

The tap stops and Daria walks out, bloody towel to her face.

She smiles as she walks up to Sarah and lays a full on tongue pash on her.

As they separate, Sarah licks the blood off her lips and enjoys the taste. "You've being playing spankies without me."

"Don't worry, it's wasn't that much fun."

Sarah looks at Tinsel. "Who's the stiff?"

Daria says in her innocent kiddy voice, "He's my new nanny."

The girls giggle and Sarah looks at him. "We should get him a dress and some lipstick. By the way, I caught him pulling himself."

"I wasn't —"

Sarah butts in. "Excuses excuses."

Daria looks at him surprised. "You kinky bastard. Just don't crack onto my boyfriend ok?"

"I'm not a fag."

Daria rolls her eyes. "Yeah Tinsel, whatever."

Sarah looks at him shocked. "Tinsel? He even has a faggot name."

"I'm not a fag!"

Sarah taunts more. "Sure baby, we won't make you break your nails."

Tinsel clenches his fists about to explode.

Sarah gets up close. "Wanna swap spit?" Then she spits in his face.

Tinsel snaps, grabs her by the hair, and pulls her head back ready to break her neck. Her eyes widen in fear. The dog hides next to the TV cabinet and resumes its annoying little chirp of a bark.

Tinsel sees the fear on her face and pauses. He looks at Daria who just smiles at him.

He throws Sarah into the huge rear projection TV which falls off the cabinet, landing on the Chihuahua. The barking stops.

Daria looks at the TV and the blood oozing from under it. "Damn. You're a walking disaster area. Clean this up will ya?"

Daria grabs Sarah and walks her out the back of the house.

Later with hands covered in blood, Tinsel walks outside to the bin holding the dog by the tail. As he opens the bin, he glimpses on the neighbor's driveway, a four year old girl holding a toy bear staring at him in shock. He smiles at her. "That's what happens to naughty little dogs."

She starts bawling as her father steps out from behind his four wheel drive car, wearing the priest collar and holding a bible. Tinsel stands there as the priest guides his daughter away. "I told you to stay away from those filthy gentiles."

Tinsel looks and the bin and then back to the priest closing the front door. He smiles and walks over to their four wheel drive.

As Tinsel walks away from the neighbor's car empty handed, he smiles.

Inside, Tinsel looks for the girls. A fowl stench grabs his attention. He sniffs his way to a door. As he opens it, shock splashes across his face. He nearly spews.

He storms through the house and spots Daria watching TV. He grabs her arm and forces her through the hallway. She angrily yells, "What the hell are you doing you freak?"

He pushes her towards the room. Her eyes widen in fear. "No please no!"

As he throws her through the doorway she trips and falls face first onto a mouldy vibrator.

She pushes herself up with a grossed out look on her face. Sarah looks through the door way. "Wow that's clean."

Human feces in the pot plant. Used tampons on a spaghetti plate and one in a glass of red water. A bucket with mouldy spew. Maggots are crawling through it. Mouldy used condoms are everywhere.

Tinsel yells, "I cleaned my mess now you clean yours."

"You want me to clean? Fine. She picks up the crusty turd from the pot plant and throws it at him. He dodges it. And it bounces off the wall. Sarah looks at it. "Oooh gross."

He looks around the corner back in the room. His eyes widen as a handful of tampons and condoms hurtle through the air. He backs away from the room as she comes out with the bucket. "Oh God no."

He runs and Sarah laughs hysterically. "You go girl!"

She's about to throw it when they hear a young man's voice, "Daria did you know your door is broken?"

She puts the spew bucket down on the floor. "Damn it's Kevin."

Sarah laughs at Daria. "Oh aren't you looking sexy."

Daria races into the bathroom.

Sarah still grinning looks at Tinsel's depressed gaze staring back at her. Her grin soon fades and she walks off.

Tinsel grabs the bucket and makes his way towards her room. The shower water starts.

As he steps inside the door he hears Kevin behind him. "Who are you?"

Tinsel turns around half dry reaching, holding the bucket. Kevin looks at him with disgust. "God man that's just sick."

He sees Sarah and walks past Tinsel. "Hey where's the dog?"

Sarah replies calmly as she watches the TV. "Tinsel killed it."

Kevin looks back at Tinsel. "Tinsel? Ha, nice name mate."

Tinsel puts the bucket down. He then grabs some tissues and starts gingerly picking up the tampons and condoms, throwing them into the bedroom.

Soon he finishes and closes the door.

As he walks towards Sarah he hears sex moans in the shower. "You little bitch."

He frantically goes through the cupboards looking for something. He spots a shot gun on the mantelpiece and races up to it. Sarah watches. "Oh no."

He snatches it off the wall and tries to cock it. It's stuck. He holds it up like a baseball bat as he walks past the kitchen bench. A knife block catches his eye. He grabs a butchers' knife and heads toward the shower. Sarah yells out, "Daria he's got a knife."

Daria and Kevin stop having sex in the shower, standing in the bath, when the door bursts open from Tinsel's savage kick. He's ropable. Spit foams at his mouth as veins in his forehead look like they are about to burst.

Kevin sees the butchers' knife and backs up against the shower wall. He slightly slips. Daria pulls the curtain around her and seductively smiles at Tinsel. Kevin starts trembling in fear. "Please, don't kill me."

"Don't worry. I'm not allowed to kill anyone. I'll make sure you live through this."

Kevin starts bawling his eyes out. Daria slaps him. "Man up you bitch."

He looks at her stunned then at Tinsel approaching. He faints, slipping, and smashing his head against the bath. Blood runs over the porcelain as Tinsel looks at him confused. Tinsel then looks at her. She kicks Kevin in the balls. "Get up you dead beat."

She evilly turns to Tinsel and says, "I like your style."

Kevin starts twitching in death throws as Tinsel looks down at him with worry. "Oh God, why me?"

Sarah comes through the door and sees Kevin twitching, the blood, and Tinsel with the knife.

She screams in fear and runs. Tinsel follows. "Wait! It's not what you think!"

Outside, she is running across the grass looking behind her at Tinsel who storms out the front door with the knife.

The priest looks in shock from his blood covered bonnet up to see Sarah running towards the road. He then looks across to see Tinsel chasing her with the knife. "Come back here!"

As she steps down the gutter, she bounces off the bonnet of a speeding car and her head smashes into the windscreen. Her limp body twists and bends super awkwardly as she tumbles on the road, dead. The car comes to a screeching halt.

Tinsel is a bit shocked as he sheepishly turns to look at the priest. The priest looks at him in shock as Tinsel give half a "Hello" smile.

Inside, Tinsel is sitting on the couch. "I'm screwed."

Daria steps up beside him. "Why?"

"I can't help it. People just die around me even when I'm not supposed to kill them."

"So?"

"You don't get it. This was my last chance to get more jobs from Antonio."

"Forget Antonio. He's small fry."

A car pulls up out the front and Daria looks out the window and smiles. "Hey my mum's home."

Tinsel's head sways in torment on the verge of tearing up. "I need a drink."

Daria sits down next to him on the couch. "Hey man you got balls. Sore ones at that but that don't matter. I like you."

Tinsel looks across to her. "You mean that?"

"Yeah no one stands up to me like you."

"That doesn't stop me from being killed. All I had to do was get you to clean your room, do your homework and be good."

Daria smiles. "I'll make a deal with ya."

Tinsel's brow furrows in curiosity. "What sort of deal?"

The orange glow of the sunset amplifies Antonio's angry red face as he paces behind his desk, sucking deeply on a cigarette.

He sees Tinsel open the door and walk in calm and collected, wearing a suit. Antonio yells, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"I just got my ass chewed off by my sister about sending you over there. You just can't stop killing people."

"Hey you're still alive aren't you?"

"You dare threaten me?"

"You can't do nothing to worry me anymore Antonio."

"You wanna bet?"

Antonio grabs the phone and starts dialling.

A woman's voice comes from the shadows. "Put it down."

Antonio slowly puts it down. "Hey Daisy, what's going on Sis?"

Daria's mother walks in dressed in a suit, and Daria follows also in a suit. Daria is quiet and calm.

Daisy walks up to the desk reaches down to Antonio's cigar box, and pulls out a Cuban cigar. "I'm really disappointed in you. How dare you cause this man so much stress?"

"Me? He was the —"

"Don't shift the blame. From now on, if he tells you to jump, you do it. We clear?"

"But —"

"ARE WE CLEAR?!"

"Crystal."

Daisy turns to whisper in her daughter's ear. "Want me to make him piss his pants?"

"Nar Mummy. Thank you anyway."

Daisy gives Daria a kiss on the cheek. She then turns to pat Tinsel firmly on the back. "I can't thank you enough boy. Now you two go have some fun. I've got business to attend to."

She looks evilly at Antonio.

Tinsel walks with Daria, down the building's front steps toward a limousine. Both are smiling at the beautiful sunset light.

Suddenly a guy bumps into Tinsel, spilling a thick shake all over his suit. Anger builds as he reaches into his jacket for his gun, but she shakes her head to him and smiles.

He stops and smiles back before turning to the guy with a look that could kill. "Hey mate you better watch where you're going. You never know who you might run into. For all you know, I could be a psychopathic hit man with an anger problem."

They guy's jaw drops as he backs away in fear.

Tinsel smiles at her and she smiles back. He opens the door for her and as she gets in, he asks, "Where are we going?"

He gets in and closes the door as she replies, "I want you to meet my Principal."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A guy has a bad habit of killing people and is a hit man nobody wants so he has to prove that he can control his uncontrollable killing. So he hires a tutor to teach him how to not kill people."

This is as you can see, vastly different from the original. I didn't want to do "Hit man seeing a shrink." So I altered the concept to have more twists and stakes.

The teacher became the boss's niece, and the problem and conflict was linked directly to the Dramatic Irony of her not knowing he accidently kills people, mixed with the sheer obnoxious ways of this girl. People don't like lectures, so why would that want to read one?

Unfortunately, I can't do a normal standard comedy. I tried but I find the joke to be pushed, forced, and inevitably lame. I don't laugh the 20th time I read it. It's the focus of laughs as often as possible that causes me to feel out of place. Light comedy isn't interesting enough for me to sustain my enthusiasm.

I'm a structure person with fresh and edgy foundations. Dark comedy allows me to have a structure and take my fresh and edgy ways to an extreme where they breach the realm of freshness and enter into the hysterically strange world of dark comedy.

This is a threshold line I enjoy and it's the cornerstone of my stories. Later you will see the extremes of my fresh and edgy ways, but keeping it in the realm of reality and believability. Such stories as "Come and Get It", "Father Forgive Me" and "It's Raining men."

But now it's time to get out of the dark side of things and venture into the realm of the Fantasy genre. Castles, kings, princes and princesses: Prince Disgusting.

Concept: When a prince accidently kills his father and king, he flees to the world of the peasant pig farmers for a life where he will find true love, regardless of his family's attempts to bring him back to the castle.

Contents

PRINCE DISGUSTING

The castle's round table sits in the middle of the room. Voices echo as a party ensues.

Suddenly, a thump as Prince Bane, 22, the egocentric Romeo, naked except for his small crown, falls onto his back on the table.

Giggles as numerous naked concubines start climbing on top of him.

Bane smiles at, Trace, 34, the strong girl kneeling over him. "You girls are the best birthday present a King could ask for."

She smiles seductively. "Well when you are king, maybe I can be your queen?"

"Oooh you are a naughty girl."

Suddenly, king Tory, 56, the child—like joker, barges through the door with another concubine. Shocked, Tory and Bane both see each other.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhh!" They both scream.

Bane rolls off the table. Tory pushes away from the concubine, eyes wide with fear. He glances from the concubine to Bane's eyes peeking over the edge of the table.

Tory gulps. "You never saw anything."

Bane starts getting dressed. He gains some composure. "Dad, where is Mum?"

Tory gulps, panicking. "She's relaxing with the masseurs."

Bane pulls his pants up and stands straight, suspicious. "You sneaky bastard."

Tory freaks out, backing up towards a suit of armor which has a sword and dagger. Bane pulls his shirt on and walks towards his father with a stern gaze. "You came in here to get it on with this gorgeous young woman, didn't you?"

The girls start backing away in anticipation of something big. Bane steps closer.

Tory backs up towards the armor. "No I would never have mad passionate sex behind your mother's back." He stares at the concubines breasts. "She has the best breasts I've ever seen."

Bane sees him looking at the concubine's breasts. His countenance sours. "You have done this before?"

Tory's eyes widen as he steps back closer to the armor. He half smiles. Bane starts fuming. "Spill it Dad before I tell mum everything."

Tory stops just in front of the armor. Bane steps closer. "TELL ME!!!"

The girls shudder in fright. Tory gulps and calms. "Hey, you get to have sex all day, every day, with every gorgeous young woman you want. They make your mother look like a hag."

Suddenly, Bane slaps him. Tory falls back onto the armor, grunts, eyes widen in pain. He rolls over to show a dagger in his back and blood around the blade.

Bane freaks out. The concubine screams. Trace looks at Bane. "Oh my God, you've killed the king!"

Bane's eyes widen. "No!"

He races to Tory's side. Tory coughs blood. He strains to say, "Promise me, you will give up everything to redeem yourself."

Bane balks at the idea. "I can't... I didn't —"

"PROMISE ME!!!"

A tear drops from Bane's eye. "As you wish Father. I promise. I'm so sorry."

Tory slumps, dead.

Suddenly, Bane races out the door. He bursts into a room of people laughing until they see him. He continues sprinting, fleeing the castle.

Suddenly, laughter comes from the round table room as Trace and concubines come out laughing, escorting the king. Trace looks at King Tory. "Sire, that was the best joke ever."

Their laughs fade as they see the crowd silent, staring at the doors. The king looks for Bane. "Bane?"

Silence. "Where the hell is my son?!"

In the forest, Bane strips the princely clothes from his back. He throws his crown. He tears the top of his undergarment and throws his rings. He's stripped of all royal possessions.

Suddenly, he trips down an embankment and rolls down a steep hill.

More rolling, further and further off the track. A rock looms large at the base of the hill. They're drawn together like two magnets. His head hits hard. Blackness.

He wakes up in a bed. He freaks out panicked until Jill, 19, the beautiful young peasant woman with a humble heart of compassion, comes in to comfort him. "It's ok. You're safe."

He starts looking around trying to remember. A tear wells in his eye. She sits on the bed next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing to me."

He sits quietly. As she begins to leave, he looks up at her. "What is this place?"

She half smiles. "It's my father's farm. We raise pigs." He sighs as he thinks about where he is. She empathizes in the uncomfortable silence. "What is your name?"

He wallows in his sadness. "I have no name."

She pauses, sad. "Where is your home?"

"I have no home."

"No family?"

A tear and torment.

She grabs a plate of pauper food and offers it to him. "Here, you need to eat."

He's stunned by the looks of the food but he acts calm. "Thank you."

She waits. He reluctantly starts to eat. It's disgusting and he struggles to swallow. She smiles. "It's the best we have since the King's tax men have taken everything else. Do you like it?"

He struggles to smile. "It's... wonderful."

A few days later, outside, Gruff, 42, her grumpy father, is pouring mouldy fruit into the smelly pig pen. Jill washes clothes in a filthy trough. Bane comes out in farming clothes looking uncomfortable. He has beard stubble now. Gruff looks up to see Bane. "Ah ha Boy. You are well enough to stand, you are well enough to work. Give me a hand with these buckets."

Bane trundles over, looking at the filth. He starts to feel sick. Gruff notices. "What's the matter, Boy? You look like you've never done a day of work in your —"

"Nar I'm ok."

He grudgingly forces himself to pick up a bucket and tip it into the trough.

Later in the day, a herald walks down the road yelling, "Hear ye Hear ye, the Prince of the Kingdom, missing. King Tory offering a reward of 1,000 gold pieces for any information leading to the return of the prince. Hear ye hear ye..."

Bane hides himself as Gruff looks up at the herald walking past.

Later that night, Gruff wakes to a knock at the door. He answers it to see a guard, who barges inside. "Out of the way peasant!"

Gruff gains his balance. "What are you doing here?"

"We are looking for someone."

Bane hides under the bed just as the guards burst into his room. Gruff gets angry. "Who are you looking for?"

"Prince Bane. If you have any information —"

"You're mad. A prince here? He would have to be insane."

Jill comes out of her room, as they push her out of the way. Jill falls into her father's arms. They burst into her room to check.

Gruff yells, "That's enough! You can see he's not here, now get out of my house."

The guards finish checking and leave.

Gruff, curious, opens the door of Bane's room. He's in bed as if they just woke him up. Bane squints. "Why are they waking people up?"

Gruff shakes his head. "Damn royals. They avoid us like the plague until one of their ferrel kids go missing. Hopefully he's dead!"

Bane half chuckles. "You think they'll be back?"

Gruff looks strangely at Bane. "Boy, they haven't been to our village in the last 10 years. Good thing too if they know what's good for them. Greedy bastards and their Tax."

Bane feigns an angry look. "Yeah you wonder how the snakes sleep at night."

Gruff relaxes. "At least they don't have guards bashing on their doors. Have a good sleep, Boy. Early morning tomorrow."

"Good night, Sir."

Gruff closes the door. Bane sighs with relief.

Over time, Gruff teaches him the ropes. Bane has slip ups where he lands face first in the filth and throwing up, but later he starts having fun, rolling around in the mud just like the pigs. He has a huge smile on his face. On the side, he makes those loving eyes when looking at Jill.

A few months later, Bane has a beard and trundles through the mud with no care of the mess. His hair is long and knotty. He confidently picks up buckets and pours them into the smelly trough. Jill comes out and calls out. "Hey Shane, you coming to the village with me to get more bread?!"

"Sure Jill! Maybe we can get some of the good stuff!"

On the way Bane secretly picks flowers. Jill gazes at the beautiful clouds in the sky. "Don't you just love the clouds? So pure and clean."

"I've never really thought about it."

She looks at what he is doing, curious. "Imagine how soft those clouds would be."

He fumbles with his hands and the flowers. "Yeah like the pillows at home."

She laughs. "You jest so well."

He realizes what he said and nervously smiles. "Ha, yeah, jesting."

They enter the village market. Jill is in awe. Bane nervously glances around. As he walks, something catches his eye. A beautiful pendant of a clear crystal tied with leather.

She sees him looking at it. "Oh by the Gods, would he bestow such a beautiful piece on such a lady as me."

"You should buy it since it would look great on you."

She turns away, sad. "Do not suggest such a thing. I dare not think of such wealth."

She heads to the bread area as Bane stays behind and smiles at the storeman.

She is getting bread when Bane steps up behind her. He pauses close. "Stay right there."

"Why?"

"Just don't move."

She is a bit worried as if a spider is on her back. Suddenly, he reaches around her neck and puts the necklace on. Her heart melts. She touches it with her hand, astounded.

As he finishes tying it, her sadness sets in. She turns around with a heart of loving torment. "You shouldn't have."

"But the necklace was worthless so I had to make it the most valuable thing in the world and it can never hold that value unless your beauty compliments it."

She is sad and shy, and he feels like he said the wrong thing. "Oh I see. I'm sorry. I didn't know it would upset you. My actions were out of place and I promise I won't let it happen again."

She takes it off and goes to hand it back but he turns it down. "You keep it. It's ok."

The bread man holds the bread out to her, waiting for attention. "Oy! You gonna take this?"

A bit confused, she takes the bread. Bane shakes his head, wallowing in self—hatred.

At home, they are having dinner. Her father glances around the table at Bane and Jill who both seem distant as they hardly eat. "You two are quiet."

They glance at each other, each waiting for the other to speak. She shies away back to her food. He does likewise. She stops playing with her food. "I'm not feeling too well, Father. I might go to bed."

Gruff glances around, trying to work out what's going on. He nods to Jill. "Tell me if you need anything."

She stands and trundles off towards her bedroom. Gruff looks at Bane. "We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow so we all should get an early night."

Bane pauses. "Yeah that's a good idea."

After dinner, Bane finishes washing dishes. He puts the last dish away and wipes his hands. He looks at Gruff. "Goodnight."

Gruff watches Bane as he saunters sadly towards his bunk. Gruff sighs and shakes his head.

Bane lies in bed unable to sleep. The door sounds and Bane pretends to be asleep. Suddenly, a hand reaches over his face as if to kidnap him but instead she touches him lovingly. He turns over to face her as she kisses him. After a loving kiss and a loving smile, Jill sneaks back out of the room. Bane glows with a joy that few ever know.

At breakfast, Bane and Jill grin at each other until they hear Gruff's call from outside. "Oy you two! Get your butts out here."

They stand confused and Bane opens the door for Jill. They come out to see Gruff directing a cart full of wooden planks. "Good to see you two are up. We have a new project. I want a cabin built."

Jill queries, "What for?"

"I think I might hire it to people to make an extra income. Let's get to work."

While working on the cabin which is nearly finished, Bane approaches Jill, sneaking lovingly up from behind. He glances around to see if Gruff is about before he sets his hands on her hips and starts kissing her neck. She steps away, startled. "Father will see."

"So?"

"He's old fashioned. He'll be furious."

"So I will ask him for your hand."

"No you —"

He puts his finger on her mouth. "Shhhhh... It will be ok."

They giggle until Gruff calls out "Jill?" and they shuffle to look innocent as Gruff approaches. They gaze cheekily into each other's eyes.

After a hard day's work, they sit down at the dinner table. Gruff sits down and starts serving up his own dinner. Jill and Bane nibble on their food. All is quiet. While Gruff isn't looking, Bane looks at Jill and gestures to Gruff with a glance. Jill rolls her eyes and smiles. Bane smiles too. He turns to look at Gruff. "Sir I have something to ask of you."

Gruff looks up. "Yes?"

"It's of much importance."

Gruff smiles. "Go on."

"I know I'm not the best person in the world but your daughter is...

Gruff smiles more. "Yes."

"I would like to ask for your daughter's..."

"I said Yes didn't I?"

"But..."

"I'm getting old but I'm not blind, Son. You think I wouldn't build a cabin for my grandchildren?"

Bane is stunned as he watches Jill stand and race to hug her father. Bane's joy flows brightly.

Bane pulls blankets up for his newborn son in the new cabin. "Goodnight son."

He sneaks into the bedroom where Jill sleeps. He sneaks over and kisses his wife. "Hello my Queen."

She moans awake with a smile. "Hey Mr King."

"I will be going to the village tomorrow for supplies. Do you need anything?"

"I just need my reality of my husband by my side."

He leans down to kiss her passionately.

In the village, Bane searches through the vegetables of a market stall. Suddenly behind the stall he sees Trace who was in on the practical joke at the King's birthday party. Bane turns his back. Trace looks at him suspiciously. "Hey you?"

Suddenly, Bane takes off. Trace bolts after him. "Stop! Guards!"

Bane darts down an alley way. Trace charges after him. "Bane you have to stop!"

Bane looks back. "You'll have to catch me first."
He darts into a shop. Trace follows. "We miss you, Bane. Why are you running?"

"Because there is a reward for bringing me in. I'm not dumb."

"You don't want to be reunited with your father?"

Bane stops on the other side of a table. "You want to kill me and collect the reward."

She pants tired. "No Bane. It was a practical joke. You're father isn't dead."

Bane looks at her with a cruel gaze. "You really are sick. Telling someone that, just to get a reward, is low."

"It's true. Look."

She holds out a decree from the king, signed. The words, "Bring Back My Son," top the page with a letter expressing his sorrow. The last line: "Any news of my son's location would be greatly rewarded. I will even reward someone who can confirm that my son is alive. But the least you could do for me is tell my son, I'm sorry. Sincerely, King Tory."

Trace smiles. "Your mum divorced him but he's alive. You can come home."

Bane thinks. He sighs as he looks between the ring on his finger and the decree. Trace puts on a seductive smile. "I'll give you a welcome home party you'll never forget."

Bane lifts his gaze. "No."

Trace is stunned as Bane walks off.

King Tory sits at his table, alone, depressed. Suddenly, the door bursts open and in storms Trace with a small guard holding onto her leg. The guard pants. "Sire, I swear, I tried to stop her."

Tory looks at her, suspicious. "What?"

"I want my reward!"

Tory's eyes focus, curiously. "You want to risk losing your life?"

"I dare not make up such a story, Sire. Your son lives."

Hope glistens in Tory's eyes. He stands and approaches. "Where? Bring him to me!"

She looks down sadly. "I'm sorry to say that he does not wish to return. It seems he's a peasant in the village."

Tory looks sad. He thinks. "Send the news to his mother... I will find him myself."

Gruff's dinner table has a little food. Gruff and Jill sit as Bane serves them a mediocre meal, awesome considering the ingredients he had to use. He sits at the table sadly. Gruff starts eating. Jill notices Bane's emotion. "Darling what's wrong?"

Gruff stops chewing and looks forward, waiting. Bane pauses, then slowly lifts his gaze. "Nothing."

Gruff's countenance sours. "Don't lie to my daughter, Boy."

Bane sighs. "I don't want to talk about it."

Gruff continues to chew his mouthful.

Jill delivers puppy dog eyes. "I'm here for you, Honey. Please don't shut me out. I want to help."

His face contorts with anguish. "I'm worried. I never want anything to come between us."

Jill empathizes. "I swear, nothing ever will."

He half smiles. She smiles. Bane starts eating. She follows suit.

The next day, Bane is working in the roof covered pig pens. Filth everywhere but he is happy. Suddenly, a clunk behind him grabs his attention. He turns, worried. He grabs a shovel ready to attack. He sees a dark silhouette figure step into the doorway. Bane prepares. Then the figure steps forward. "I can't believe it."

Tory steps forward into the light. Bane lowers the shovel, stunned. Tory shakes his head in torment looking at the filth all over his son. "I want you out of that filth immediately."

Bane thinks. "Fine."

He throws down the shovel and storms toward Tory. Tory backs up outside of the pig pen building and into the sun. Trace is standing nearby. Bane approaches like a peasant.

They stop, facing each other. Tory gulps. "You will come home with me —"

"What the hell happened?"

Jill and Gruff, approaching from a distance, see Bane talking to someone. Tory looks uncomfortable. He sighs. "Look, Trace told you it was a joke. As if I would ever want you to give up everything for this filth pit and peasant scum."

Suddenly, Bane punches Tory with his filthy hands. Tory falls in the mud as Bane stands over Tory with rage filled eyes. "Get off my land!"

Tory is shocked. Trace reaches down to help him up as Jill and Gruff arrive to see the carnage. Tory, assisted into the horse carriage, looks back at Bane, heartbroken, pleading but fearful.

Gruff races up to the carriage, and starts grovelling as Jill confronts Bane. "Are you Crazy? You hit the King! You will be hung for treason for sure."

"No I won't."

She's in disbelief. "Oh so you have some magic amulet that will save you?"

"Yes."

She's shocked. "What?"

He turns away and starts to walk away. She grabs him and turns him around to face her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He looks at her cold, tormented. "He's my father."

Bane turns away and goes back to the cabin.

Jill watches from a distance. She glances between Tory and Bane seeing the father devastated at the rebellious son. "Shane stop... Shane!.. Don't you dare leave him in the dark!"

Bane stops. He looks at his father's pleading eyes. He looks at Jill. Jill looks with puppy dog eyes. "Please? For me?"

Bane sighs. He charges up to the carriage, and slows as he gets close, sad. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Tory is lost for words. Bane looks up straight at him. "I thought you were dead. I thought I was a murderer. Years of living with the guilt. And there is only one thing that kept me alive. My wife."

Bane gestures to Jill in the distance as Gruff comforts her. Tory looks. "I'm so sorry. You were supposed to find out straight away. I never should have done it and every single day, I have regretted ever thinking of that stupid joke. I don't blame you if you can never forgive me. I never forgave myself."

Bane's countenance softens. "I forgive you. I know you would never deliberately set out to hurt me, it's just —"

"You have a family now. I know... Look I just want to help. Please tell me if you want anything. You know you're still a prince. You may not need the people but the people need you. They need a prince."

Bane smiles. "I understand... They will have their prince."

As the carriage leaves, Bane walks up to Jill and Gruff. Gruff looks at him with an evil eye. "Prince Bane... You lied to me and to Jill... You disappoint me."

"I'm sorry Sir. I just wanted to put everything behind me. I wanted to be a good man. I failed you."

Gruff looks at him. "You were a good man... So what now?"

"I have some good news and some bad news."

"What's the bad news?"

"I won't be able to stay here anymore. I have to go back home to my father and rule the kingdom as I am destined to do."

A tear runs down Jill's cheek. She's stressed and breaking down. She's losing her husband, her life. Bane tries to comfort her. "Hey hey, don't you want to hear the good news?"

She composes herself to ask, "What news can be good when I don't have the man I love?"

He smiles. "Well think about it. You are my queen and I want us to do everything exactly the same but in our very own pig farm palace."

She starts to grasp the essence of what he just said. She composes herself and looks at him. Gruff looks at him suspiciously. "A pig farm fit for a king?"

Bane smiles. "Now that's what I'm talking about."

Gruff smiles and Jill races to hug Bane. She kisses him with a passion that not even pig filth could suppress.

Bane's 4 year old son helps Bane to clean out the palace—like pig sties. Jill shuffles over, pregnant, and watches Bane and her son. Gruff comes in with his new clothes and dumps a basket full of fresh fruit. He smiles at the pig farm palace. Trace comes in with another basket, puts it down next to Gruff, and then passionately kisses Gruff.

King Tory comes in dressed in commoner's clothes and holds out a scroll for Bane to sign. Bane signs the scroll: "King Bane."

Tory looks across to Gruff. "So how can I help?"

They all smile as Bane starts showing Tory how to use a shovel.

From the side, the Queen, Bane's mother, steps up and admires the scene. She sees Tory get some filth on his clothes. She giggles. Tory looks up to see her smile. He smiles back at her as the Queen gives the king a seductive wink. Bane catches a glimpse of the connection. "Dad you dirty little sneak. Get your mind out of the gutter."

Tory looks at Bane. "Me? Never."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A prince in a castle of Round table times has women galore and a brilliant life. But when he accidently kills his father on his birthday, he runs and hides in the pig pits scavenging for food in the streets where he falls in love with a street woman. Later he finds out that his father played a practical joke on him and is really alive but the prince doesn't want to come back."

This story was very simple and straight forward to write. One thing I have learned which is the most influential rule on my decisions is "Simple is the best." It's actually extremely hard to learn. The reasons are because:

1. We are always striving to be as original as possible, but pretty much all the simple stories have been done, sometimes several times over. Therefore...

2. We end up going for something we know is truly original but then the problem is that no one has ever heard of it before and they don't even know what the components are.

Grey Goo has a bit of that. You may have read the concept and wondered what "malfunctioning, self—replicating, microscopic robots" are. It's the easiest way to explain nanobots. Nanobots are robots where the individual atoms make up the components. Wires are one copper atom thick. Some of them are constructor bots which create other nanobots. This is a theory which scientists are working on at the moment but most people have no idea what these are. In "Terminator 2", they refer to it as Liquid Metal. In "When the Earth Stood Still", the storm is literally Nanobots.

This means that everything that comes from the complex confusing concept, usually ends up complex and confusing. That's where Prince Disgusting has absolutely no problems in this area.

This next story had some complexity and I will get into that in the following summary. This is a Horror genre. "It's Raining Men."

Concept: When body parts start falling from the sky, an eager street cop charges up into a high riser building to stop the massacre.

Contents

IT'S RAINING MEN

A warm orange glow lights up the smoky horizon over the city. It dances with a mesmerizing aura as Don, a 45 year old street cop who looks like a military hard ass, sighs. "It's not fair. We could be out there helping, getting dirty, risking our lives."

Beside him is a geek in police uniform who should be behind a computer with a pizza and a bottle of Coke — Timmy, 26, Don's rookie partner. "Hey man I'm just stoked to be back in the saddle. I'd rather be here than dealing with an explosion like that."

Timmy turns to the Hot Dog stand vendor beside him and receives the hot dog from the Asian Hot Dog man. "You wanna dog pops?"

"No thanks. I don't like brains, feet and other organs."

"I thought you'd be used to that with the army thing and all."

"That may be so but at least we got some action there. I can't get used to this ticket—writing shit. Gimme a gore war any day."

Timmy eyeballs his hot dog, salivating. "Well you can have your gore war and I'll just hoe into my minced up body parts."

He closes his eyes and slots the hot dog into his mouth and bites. Mmmmmm yummm. Splat!

As if his hot dog just had a mini explosion, red splatters over his face. Curious, he opens his eyes and pulls back the hot dog to see the bloody end of a human finger in his bun.

Instantly, he goes into a spitting fit as he drops the hot dog. "Jesus God damn Christ!"

Don chuckles at him. "What's the matter? Did you find a foot in your hot dog?"

Timmy looks up at Don in shock. Don sees his terror. Don's smile vanishes as he moves in closer. Timmy gulps. "Worse. I found a finger."

The Asian vendor races in waving his hands. "No refund! Me no have fingers in hot dogs!"

Timmy points at the hot dog on the ground. Don steps in close to the hot dog as they all see the finger in the bun. The vendor gulps. "Not my finger!"

Timmy glares at the vendor. "Then where the hell did it come from?"

The vendor backs up, defensive. "Hey maybe fell out of sky."

Timmy pauses and thinks. A shadow forms over him like an ominous dark cloud of an aura. His eyes turn skyward in slow motion. As he looks up, his eyes widen in fear.

Don watches as intestines splatter onto Timmy's face like an octopus trying to eat his head.

Timmy stumbles back and frantically grapples at the guts trying to flick them off faster than his hands are capable. "Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus, Oh Jesus fucking Christ!"

Splat sounds echo in the distance. Screams start around them as Don, the vendor, and Timmy take shelter under the walkway near a shop. They all stare in awe as body parts hit the pavement, one after another.

Don instantly pulls the radio to his ear. "Dispatch we've got a four nineteen from a one eighty seven at the corner of eighteenth and third. Request immediate assistance."

The radio squawks, "This is dispatch, that's a negative on the assistance. All units are at the blast site. How do you know it's a one eighty seven?"

As a man's severed head splats onto the ground in front of him, Don coldly answers. "Because it's raining men."

More screams overlap his message. He lowers the radio as dispatch replies. "Oh God... I'll see what I can do. Just stay put and wait for back up."

Don doesn't reply. He turns to look at Timmy who is frantically wiping the blood off his face with his shirt. Timmy catches the look on Don's face. Timmy pauses. "No way."

"We can't just sit here bumming each other!"

Timmy's eyes plead. "There's no need to go up there. Look it's stopped."

Thump! Another half torso hits the ground spraying blood their direction.

Timmy's face contorts with understanding. "God help us."

Smash! The inside of the dark deserted foyer echoes the sound of the glass front door shattering. Don pulls the Hot dog cart from the window and shines a torch inside. Timmy looks in. "You like breaking and entering, don't you?"

"Probable cause."

Don smashes the glass away with his gun and walks through as if he were a tourist.

Timmy gingerly follows, scared he will cut himself.

The torch lights whoosh around the walls. An elevator attracts them like a light magnet.

Timmy glances around. "Isn't it a little too quiet in here?"

"Don't worry, the elevators will fix that."

Don steps up and presses the button. Nothing happens. Timmy watches him press it again. "Oh my God they are deafening. I can hardly hear myself think."

"Oh? You actually think?"

"I think they don't want us going up there."

Don's torch spotlights the door to the stairs. "Well then, they should've unplugged the stairs."

SWAT style, they move up. One covers while the other moves in to cover the next position.

Floor one, cafeteria. It's barren. Deathly silence. Timmy gulps.

Don tilts his head gesturing to Timmy to continue up the concrete stairs.

Second floor, office cubicles. Don darts around the corner. It's like a scene from a Ghost town. All that's missing is the dust, spider webs, and sheets over the desks and chairs.

Third floor, glass conference rooms. Shadows loom large. Don pauses, curious. "Too quiet."

Suddenly, Timmy freezes, peeking into the mass of rooms as reflections react with a ghostly image in the distance. "Pops I think I see someone."

Don looks across to see Timmy's reflection in the glass. "Timmy, meet your reflection."

Timmy moves the torch and sees the identical movements in the reflection. Timmy sheepishly moves out to see his full reflection. "I was just testing you."

Don thinks. "There's something not right here."

Timmy's eyes dart anxiously. "Yeah it's too eerie."

Timmy backs away toward the stairs up toward the next floor.

Don follows. "Just a waltz up to the bad guys huh?"

Timmy turns the torch to the stairs. "Yeah thirteen friggin' floors. Oh well. Time to go dance."

He slowly moves in.

Don hears a rustle in the rooms. He stops. He turns back and looks into the conference rooms.

He steps in, flashing the torch around. He walks over to where he hears the noise. He slowly opens the door and walks inside.

A wall safe door is open. He walks closer and moves around to look inside the safe door.

Crack! Claws lash out smacking the cage. A bloody terrorized cat freaks out startling Don back a step. He steadies himself as he feels something touching his heel. He pauses.

Slowly, without moving his feet, he turns and shines the torch down to the floor where he sees a taut bit of wire touching his heel. More trip wires are spread out behind him. He notices a stay—sharp knife holder.

The trip wires all lead to the wall, then up to the roof where a barrage of knives from the cafeteria are wired around paperweights, ready to fall onto any unsuspecting victims. It's a trap and Don's realization kicks in. "Timmy."

Instantly, he charges out the door towards the stairs. "Timmy! Get back here now!"

Timmy barely hears the echo up the concrete stairs as he takes another step. On the lip of the next step is a trip wire that leads up the wall to a huge safe directly above.

Timmy turns the torch down the stairs curious. He shrugs it off and lifts his foot towards the trip wire.

It's like his toe and the trip wire are a match made in heaven. They gravitate towards each other. The sole of his shoe rises and barely misses the trip wire. His foot rises and hovers over the thin line of death. Don's voice echoes. "Timmy!"

His foot stops. Don races around the corner to flash the torch up the stairs at Timmy. Timmy is angry and looks at him. His foot hovering over the wire. "Shhhhh. Jesus Don. Are you trying to get me killed?"

Timmy steps forward.

The wire pulls down. On the wall, the wire pulls through a metal ring. Up the wall it pulls through another metal ring. The wire leads to a pin which holds a latch. The latch pulls back sliding off a metal plate. Ting! The plate flings out releasing the rope tied around the huge safe.

Like the beauty of zero gravity, the rope hovers over the safe as the wall rushes upwards behind it.

Timmy looks up as the safe pushes his head down to be skewered by his leg bones.

Don watches as the blood splashes from under the safe, just before it hits the stairs. Chunks of concrete explode from the stairs as the safe compresses the stone.

Instantly, the safe tumbles straight towards Don who runs back away from the stairs. It tumbles closer and his eyes widen as he dives towards the conference rooms, out of the way. The safe falls hitting the sole of his shoe peeling it away.

He lands hard as the safe slams flat with a thud that echoes through the building. He pants as reality sets in. He shines the torch on the safe to see the blood and hair squished into the door. His face droops in a disappointed expression of loss.

With a lowness of loneliness, he lifts his radio and pushes the button before his monotone mumbling sounds. "Dispatch. We've got a man down at the corner of eighteenth and third. There are booby traps everywhere. I'm going in alone and you don't need to send an ambulance."

The radio blares. "Don what the hell have you done?... Answer me you Fu..."

Don's fingertips gently switch off the radio. He places it down beside the bloody safe. He then glares up the stairs.

He pulls Timmy's gun from the bloodied holster wedged under the safe.

He triggers the cat trap and the blades stab into the floor. With the collection of knives, he notices the stay—sharp knife holder. Instantly, he searches for others until he has the last of his collection sliding into the last of the stay—sharp knife holders.

His hand grabs some duct tape. Knives are taped to his body. Two cross his back, two in the back of his pants, two taped just above his ankles, and two to his forearms. He straightens himself in the glass reflection like a prestigious official about to go to work. As he pulls some dish washing gloves on, he glares up the stairs.

Up further, reaches for a door handle. As he turns it, it clicks. He pauses. He gently pulls it back. A wire on the other side stretches from the door, to the door frame, around to the trigger of a sawn—off shot gun pointed straight at the door. The trigger pulls back a little. He stops.

Inside, numerous knife holes form in the plaster. Crunch! Don bursts through the wall, rolls and lifts his gun ready to shoot. He notices the shot gun. Two knives drop onto the table as he tapes the shot gun to his back. He heads towards the stairs.

A door reads: "Floor 7." He sees many trip wires against the wall but none near the rail. He grabs the rail as he pulls himself away from the trip wires. He hears a low hum as his gloved hand grabs the door handle and turns.

With extreme caution checking everything, he pushes his way inside to see the huge cable coming from the door handle, along the floor to a massive high voltage generator. The fumes in the room make him lift his arm to his mouth. Another cable goes through the wall to tie around the railing. He gulps as he looks at the rubber gloves on his hands which saved him from being electrically fried.

The twelfth floor, and a door reads. "Restricted Access. Authorized Personnel Only."

With his normal cautious ways, he steps through the door to the base of some more stairs. He checks over the door and looks around. He spots a flurry of wires all over the floor of the steps in front of him. Above the plaster ceiling, there are numerous javelins, pointing straight down towards the steps. Each weighted with solid steel and precariously suspended from the air ducting by the trigger wires.

He lets the door go. As it shuts, he hears a digital beep.

He turns back and looks at the door. He reaches for the handle and tries to open it. It's locked.

He gulps. He frantically looks over the door to see a small switch near the bottom hinge which leads into the oddly new wall. He leans in closer and hears a faint constant beep.

He instantly pulls a knife and jabs it into the wall, cutting away the plaster. He clears a small hole and looks through. A red glow. He looks closely as he focuses on numerous plastic bags of grey putty—like stuff. He then sees the display counting down the last twenty three seconds. "Oh shit."

Instantly, he charges up the steps sprinting over the trip wires. The numerous javelins spear through the roof as he runs. The javelins, spearing into the steps, hit closer and closer to his feet.

At the top the door is shut. He dives at the door. Thud! He bounces off as a javelin spears towards his head. He grabs the door handle to stop himself from falling back.

Yank! The jerk pivots him to the side as the javelin spears down between his other arm and his leg. Clunk.

He looks down at the mass of javelins on the floor then back to the bomb in the wall. With a twist and a jerk, he pulls the door open and charges through. He runs into the dark corridor. Up ahead he sees a terrified businessman standing with his back against the door. This man steps away from the side door into the middle of the corridor fearfully looking at Don. The stairwell door behind Don closes into the door frame. Click.

Boom! Flames rip up the stairs.

The door behind Don blows and hurtles towards him as he ducks. He lands on the floor looking forward as he watches the door whoosh over his head, cutting the businessman in half before the flames roar overhead obscuring his view.

Papers burn. Smoke starts to clear. Don pants. His ears ring due to the blast.

Crunch!

The door where the businessman was standing, smashes open. Holding a fire extinguisher with a terrified look on his face is, Josh, 29, wearing a janitor suit and racing in with the appearance of the unlikely hero. With bursts of the extinguisher, fires vanish. Don starts to get up as Josh grabs him. "You ok buddy?"

Don can only see his lips moving as Josh helps him stand. Once standing, he shrugs Josh off him. He turns to see the stairs which are a twisted mess of impenetrable steel and concrete. Don's hearing starts to come back as he vaguely catches Josh's words. "... crazy son of a bitch. We're not getting out of here alive buddy. Welcome to hell."

In an office waiting room, Josh barricades the door. "There's some freak running around up here man. The screams... I can't handle it anymore. What the hell are we gonna do?"

Don sits on a couch, recovering. "We'll survive."

"You're insane."

"So?"

"Jesus you're gonna get us killed."

Don stands as Josh struggles with the desk. "You say there are others up here?"

Josh sighs. "We were all invited up here to the boss' birthday party. We were taking it easy and then the lights went out."

"How many?"

"About twenty..."

Josh looks down, tormented. "Well, there were about twenty."

Don stops Josh from moving the desk. "So there are some left?"

"I don't know. They could be all dead for all I know. And if they aren't, they soon will be."

"Not if I can help it."

"Jesus you are insane... We don't even have any weapons."

Don reaches behind him and pulls the two knives from his pants. He hands them to Josh. He then pulls out the two guns. "Now we do."

Josh gulps. "Oh crap."

In the corridor, Don steps out, he aims the gun as he holds the torch, looking around. "Which way?"

Josh rolls his eyes. "Up there is where the party started."

Josh points up the corridor. "How many rooms up here?"

"About ten offices, a kitchen, three meeting rooms, then the big conference room. I think there is a couple of store rooms and then there are the stairs to the roof but one guy already tried that... I don't want to go there."

Don sees the severed corpse of the businessman and the steel door embedded in the wall beside the doors to the conference room. Josh sees the corpse. "Oh God it's Alex. Oh God no. No I can't —"

"Hey! Pull yourself together. If you're not an asset, you're a liability. If you're a liability, I'll kill you myself."

Josh stops freaking out and nods. "Asset. Yep... that's what I am."

Don forces the busted conference room door open. It's set up as a party with the ice sculpture and the banquet of food. A huge banner sprawled with the words: Happy Birthday Mr Hughes.

Chairs are turned over. Food spilt. It's like there was a massive brawl that ruined the festivities and everyone left... But not everyone left.

On the floor, Josh's foot backs into the fingerless hand of a corpse. He freaks and turns to flash the torch down. Only the palm of one hand, an arm, a shoulder, and the head of an old lady are left. Don sees him frozen. He whispers. "Josh."

Josh turns and looks at him. "Mrs Hughes."

Don breaks the uncomfortable silence. "Look, you check that side. I'll check the rooms over here."

Don gestures to the doors over other on the side of the huge conference room.

Josh watches as Don heads into the rooms and trundles along looking behind the tables and chairs.

Suddenly, a neatly dressed 27 year old woman charges out with a knife, screaming, and attacks Josh. He freaks out as the torch lights up her face. "Jesus."

She swipes and Josh darts out of the way feeling the wind tickling the hairs on his arm. "Hey Jesus it's ok! Me and this police officer are here to help. Just put the knife down and come with us and we will protect you ok?"

Josh turns as he hears Don's footsteps charging toward them. Don bursts around the corner, gun pulled ready to shoot. Her eyes swell with joyful relief and hope as she drops the knife and charges up to cuddle Don. He pauses, semi—uncomfortable as she sobs on his shoulder. He comforts her. "It's going to be ok. You're safe now. Do you know where the others are?"

Her eyes dart across the room. Clunk! The faint sound echoes in the distance. Don saunters in that direction. "Hey there. Don't worry, I'm a cop."

The torch locks onto the eye of a gray bearded man. Angry whispers burst forth. "Shut the fuck up and fuck off before you get us killed."

A sweet little voice wafts from behind him. "But George, he can help us."

"But Martha —"

"But nothing. I'm not sitting here waiting for you to do nothing."

Out steps a pocket rocket of an elderly lady, strongly built and head strong as well.

George steps up and sheepishly follows. He's pretty strong too but his will is weak.

The silence is broken by a thump and a woman's blood curdling scream. More sickening thuds bellow as the scream turns into a gurgling which fades out.

Don turns and charges over toward the distant screams. As he brings the torch over, he sees another torch frantically darting around. Josh stands over the body. Holding the 27 year old woman back because she is freaking out.

Don races up and sees the twitching corpse and the bloody chair which was used to cave a young receptionist's head in. Josh looks up at Don. "I... I tried but... I was... I was too late."

The 27 year old woman starts freaking out. "We're dead. We're all fucking dead! I can't.. I just... Oh God —"

Don grabs her. "Hey HEY!"

She focuses on him as he shows a compassionate gaze. "What's your name?"

She struggles to speak. "Sandy."

"Ok Sandy, I need you to help me ok? These people are counting on us to be calm and relaxed. Can you do that for —"

"I'm not a bloody child."

"Well stop acting like it."

She pauses at the thought, surprised. She sighs into acceptance and nods. "You better come through for us Mister."

"Call me Don. Don't worry. If we stick together, we'll get through."

He turns to Josh. "We need a place to safely think. A small room. One door. Thick walls."

Martha steps forward. "We can go to the studio room. It's sound proof. It should be perfect."

In the studio mixing room, blood drips from the huge sound mixers. The right half of a man's head lays on the floor next to the breast part of a woman's torso. Blood has pooled all around the body parts. Sitting on the chair is the guy with half a head, resting flat on the mixing board.

They carefully walk their way into the sound—proofed room and Don shuts the door, grabs a musician's stool and jams it under the door handle. Musical equipment lines the room.

Josh sits down at the drums. He picks up the sticks. "So what do we do now?"

Don helps Sandy to sit down to the side near the guitar amplifiers. "We work out an escape plan."

George picks up a microphone and studies it. "Well that would have been easy if you didn't barricade the door. Now we're all trapped like an organ bank ready to be harvested."

Martha frowns at him. "George!"

Don steps over to him. "It's ok. I know it looks crazy but this way, I just aim in one direction and prepare to shoot anything that comes through that door. Nothing can come through the walls or up behind us. We're safe."

"It depends on what comes through that door."

Boom! Josh slams the drums with the drumsticks, scaring the hell out of everyone.

Don turns around and yells, "Josh! JOSH!"

Josh is in his own world of bashing the drums. Don races around and grabs the sticks. "Jesus Josh what the hell is wrong with you?"

Josh looks confused. "What? It's not like anyone can hear us. It's a sound proof room."

Everyone glares at Josh as Don walks over to sit with Sandy.

He holds out the drumsticks. "Here you go. A present for you."

She half smiles. "You see me as a drummer huh?"

"No but I see you with a smile."

She smiles at him. He puts the drumsticks down on the floor. She notices. "My boyfriend was a drummer. But then he changed. It's like his heart hardened. He was never the same."

Josh looks down at her, rolling his eyes at her sob story.

Don gives a comforting gaze. "Hey don't give up on him. People can always change for the better. I believe that everyone on earth has an amazingly awesome beauty deep down, no matter how much shit is piled on top of it. At the core, we all want to do the best we can to be the best we can be. It's just harder for some than it is for others."

She listens to his kind words. "That's such an awesome message. I've never been so inspired."

"Well your beauty is overflowing."

She blushes as they share a connecting moment.

Suddenly, Josh butts in. "Yeah alright enough of that shit. I want to know what you're going to do next."

As George and Martha move around to become his audience, Don turns to address them all. "First, I wanna check to make sure we haven't missed anyone."

George protests. "You've gotta be crazy. We have to get out of here, not hang around checking corpses."

Don faces him. "You can go now if you like. But I'm not going to leave anyone behind if they're still alive."

George pouts. "Fine."

Martha smiles.

"After that, we look for a way out."

George looks at him curiously. "Why can't we just stay here. You say it's safe right? The cavalry are bound to turn up soon right?"

Don sighs. "I wish it were that easy. The place is booby trapped. The stairs are blocked. The cavalry won't be here for a while."

"So we're screwed?"

"Not exactly. I've been thinking that maybe we can go down the elevator shaft?"

George smiles, excited. "Yeah. Yeah they have those step ladder thingamajigs. We can climb down."

Don nods, reassuring himself. "We just have to be careful. Who knows what's out there. We have to watch our backs."

Martha pops up. "Let's go do this shit."

Don hands one knife to Sandy and two to George. As he give one to Martha, he half smiles. "Just in case ok?"

Martha looks at him. "What about you?"

He raises his two Glock pistols. "I've got these two babies."

Outside, they trundle past the body parts, making their way around, searching.

Don comes back to Josh. "You find anyone?"

"No one. They're all dead.

"Damn. Well let's go."

At the elevator shaft, Don and Josh open the doors. They pull them back hard and struggle. Don is confused. "These doors suck. I thought they were meant to stay open."

Josh looks at George. "George! Take a look and tell us what you see."

George nods as he kneels down and leans toward the edge.

Josh smiles at Martha and she wonders what he's smiling at. Josh then looks down and smiles, gesturing at George. Martha starts to worry. "George No!"

Suddenly, as George pokes his head through to look down, the doors viciously slam shut decapitating him in an instant. His headless corpse spasms in death throws, pumping blood over the elevator doors as the thuds from his head hitting the steel beams, echo up the elevator shaft.

Dread and anguish set in as Martha sees Josh looking at her. "You Fucker!"

Instantly, she raises the knife and charges Josh.

Don spins around and puts his hand up to stop her. "Martha stop!"

She stops but she's vicious.

Don continues. "Please, don't do this."

She glares at Josh. "But —"

Josh butts in. "She's psycho. Oh God... She's —"

Her evil glare grows. "I am not!.. I know the truth. And I swear I'm going to get my —"

She thrusts towards Josh as Josh pulls Don's gun and shoots her in the head. As if she doesn't realize, she keeps running as blood hoses from the entrance and exit wounds. As the flow weakens, she slows drunkenly, and falls dead.

Josh pants. "Oh Jesus. Oh God. I... I got the psycho. I stopped the psycho bitch from killing more of us. We're... we're safe..."

His face twists in torment as he drops the gun and sobs.

Don's sadness shows but his cold gaze focuses on the windows. Outside, the cleaning scaffold hangs, vacant of its daytime window washers. "Come on. Let's go."

They reel away from the corpses. Sandy looks at the last twitches of Martha's body. She gulps with indecision.

The access stairwell door stares ominously at the three people staring back. Blood has pooled through the base of the door.

Josh nervously glances that way. "Barry was like you. He thought we could all wait on the roof for a helicopter to come save us."

Don looks at the door handle. "Well I don't intend to wait."

He reaches out and grabs the door handle. He pulls it open. The stairs are clear. He pauses listening as he hears blood dripping. He looks to the side as he sees bloody shoes dangling.

Suddenly, the skewered corpse with a smashed face, slides off the spikes on the door, lunging forward on top of Don. He falls hard on his back with the blood dripping from the wide eyes of death onto his face. Repulsed and startled, he pushes the corpse to the side and slides out from under the filth. Instantly, he wipes the blood from his face.

Don steps into the blood and peers through the doorway. It's clear. He cautiously ventures forward. The stairs are metal and they creak with the tension. As he steps up further, a cable attached to the rail of the stairs pulls tighter. It goes up into the pitch black tangle of cables above.

Don flashes the torch skywards, a drop of blood drips from a power cable. He looks to the side to see a large steel beam coming down from the roof.

Another step lowers the stairs a fraction and the cable pulls a clip. The beam beside him starts to accelerate as a blood covered, studded cross beam, emerges from behind the cables in the roof, rotating forward and around ready to slam into Don's face.

The acceleration builds as he notices the movement out the corner of his eye. Instantly, he pulls the shot gun from his back and jams it through the railing to stop the beam rotating. Crunch!

Josh and Sandy shudder at the noise. Sandy races forward to look inside the doorway. She sees the gun holding the monstrosity in place. "Jesus."

Don studies it. "It's a loop trap. It swung around, smashed your mate Barry in the face and then rotated back up to reset, ready for the next victim."

Josh looks at him curiously. "You're not just a cop are you?"

Don turns and slowly ventures up the stairs. He sees a small box under a stair. He gently lifts it to see a large explosive with cables going to the door. It's intricate with wires all over the place. "Damn."

Sandy watches curiously. "What is it?"

"Fail safe."

Josh looks confused. "What?"

"It's a bomb and no matter what I do, it's going to explode just after I open that door. Give or take a few seconds."

Josh rolls his eyes. "Well that's just great. Now what?"

Don looks back. "We'll have a few seconds."

Josh's worry shows. "That's insane. You're insane. No fucking way am I —"

Sandy steps forward. "I'll go first."

Don helps her up into position.

Josh starts getting worried. Suddenly, he charges up and grabs Don. "You can go last then. There is no way I am going to be caught out down here by myself."

Don nods. "Fine. I'll count down three two one Go and we go on go. Got it?"

They both nod. Sandy gets ready to turn the handle. Josh stands close. Don gets ready to yank himself forward. "Three, two, one, Go!"

Sandy takes a deep breath and turns the door handle. Beep Beep. A red light on the detonator lights up. Sandy pushes the door open and charges in. Josh races forward yelling at the top of his lungs. Don throws himself onwards as the explosion rips through the stairs. They dive forward onto the roof as the blast wave and flames roar over the top of them.

As the carnage and shrapnel tink onto the roof, concrete fragments splash into the water of a cooling tower.

Sandy tumbles on the ground, her knife spinning away over the side of the building. It falls past blood tainted windows as the speed hurtles into a blur. The blade of the knife lines up the face of a police officer who is gazing skyward. Thud! An FBI agent beside him feels a spray on his face as he looks to the side to see the officer's skewered head and his corpse swaying, face planting on the pavement, driving the knife further so the blade bursts out the back of his skull.

Josh gets up, grasping his two stay—sharp knives.

Don rolls, his back alight with flames. Sandy races over to help. Josh watches. "You're nuts. What's next, running through machine gun traps? Jumping on land mines? Catching safes with our heads?"

Instantly, Josh pauses, worried, looking at Don's back as Don kneels, about to stand.

Don's gaze sours. His fingers caress the butt of his gun.

Josh holds the two knives ready as his gaze waits for Don's reaction.

Sandy stands frozen, in shock.

Wind blows with a howl through the cables up high.

Don pounces up as he spins, drawing his left gun with his right hand.

Josh's evil rage shows as he pounces forward, knives back like wings ready to sprawl out for the attack.

As Don pulls around with a look that could kill, Josh's right hand swipes forward. Slash!

Don's pain digs deep as the gun spills out of his hand. He somewhat keels over to his right, clutching his slashed right hand with his left. With a swift slide of the hand, he grabs his right gun with his left hand. He twists back to his left raising the weapon to point it at Josh.

Josh swings his right fist back towards Don.

Don's finger tightens on the trigger.

A swift back hand from Josh, smashes into the gun.

Bang!

The bullet leaves the gun, spins, whooshes with a slow motion rumble as it exits the muzzle flash. Josh's wide eyes glare at the weapon as the bullet cuts through the flesh of his cheek, and tearing through his earlobe on a trajectory into the city oblivion.

The gun spins away, sliding to a halt under the side of the cooling tower.

Smack! Josh's face jerks to the side as Don's right fist busts him.

Josh's right hand twists back due to Don's swift disarming maneuver. "AAAAhhhhhh!"

The knife drops to the ground. Josh swings with the knife in his left hand as Don ducks into the perfect position for a left—handed uppercut. Thump!

Josh launches into the air and hurtles to the side. He lands hard as Don jumps into the air, feet up high, as if hovering over Josh in a energy absorbing power building pose.

Crunch! Don's boot smashes into Josh's knife wielding wrist with a bone snapping brutality that would make most men spew.

As he screams in agony, his swinging right fist slams into Don's balls, crippling him instantly.

Josh starts to stand as Don forces himself to charge forward, slamming into Josh and pushing him hard toward the cooling tower.

Josh stumbles back, reaching under the back of his janitor's uniform with his right hand. His fingers grasp an elaborate handle, pulling a brutal blood covered hunting knife. Don hears the ching of the blade as it drives through his stomach and tears through his back, slicing through the back of his shirt.

Still stumbling back, Josh pulls back the blade as Don's eyes widen in shock. Don forces his hand up to grab Josh's right hand, pushing him back.

Crunch! They slam into the cooling tower. Don slams Josh's knife hand into the tower with vicious force. The blade drops, slicing into the cooling tower water.

Don sways, weak from shock. Josh pushes hard and turns to grip Don. Don's eyes focus to see the cooling tower water as his head is thrust in.

Josh evilly smiles as he drowns Don in the cooling tower. Sandy watches with torment in her eyes.

The muffled sounds of splashes as his chest screams for air. The red of blood swirls through the water as he struggles. His eyes start rolling into the back of his head as his lungs convulse in a battle of life and death. But the peace of sleep starts to wash over him. The dream—like state and the ease of pain is rudely interrupted by a muffled bang!

Suddenly, Don feels Josh jerk forward. Don forces himself to focus as his fingers struggle to reach for the hunting knife.

Josh stands over Don with blood oozing from the sickening exit wound in his chest. He collapses down onto his knees, playing dead. Sandy's aim lowers as her face churns with torment.

Josh's fingers fondle the butt of the Glock which spun under the cooling tower. Don twitches with a struggle to rise.

Suddenly, Josh spins around, dazed, to aim at Sandy. He pulls the trigger. The crack of the gun kicks him back. The bullet hits her in the shoulder and she drops the gun, stumbling back against a plain wall like a target frozen, begging to be blown away.

Josh steadies his aim. He lines her up with a hate filled smile on his face. "You stupid bitch!"

A blur catches his eye and a glint of light matches the splash of water. Don's arm protruding from the water, drives the hunting knife deep into Josh's eye socket. Like a robot malfunctioning, Josh jerks and twitches into a deactivated mess, slumped against the cooling tower, an incapacitated corpse.

Sandy recovers. Worry strikes as she races up to pull Don's submerged head from the cooling tower. He slumps like a rag doll, drenched like a drowned rat. He slams into the concrete without as much as a flinch.

Sandy freaks out. She grabs Don and pulls him over onto his back. Instantly, she leans in to check his breath. Nothing. Eyes wide with terror, she painfully jerks him into position for mouth to mouth.

One breath. She roars in agony as she pushes cardiac compressions. Another breath, and more of a crying roar of pain in her next lot of compressions. Another breath, then she cries in pain with slacker cardiac compressions. She slows as she leans down to slackly prepare to give another breath, on the verge of a passionate kiss of finality.

With a sigh like breath, she breathes life into Don.

Coughs erupt!

Sandy sighs with relief. Don frantically looks around to see the twitching corpse of Josh, drenched in blood. Don calms slightly as he gazes into Sandy's saddened eyes. He sees her despair. "What's wrong?"

She looks deep into his eyes. "Well, now I can't give you mouth to mouth."

He smiles. "Well... What's stopping you?"

Her eyes gleam with joy as she leans in to passionately kiss him with a grip of oneness, seemingly transporting them to a parallel dimension, oblivious to the reality that surrounds them.

As she relaxes her embrace, his determination sets in. He forces himself up and over to the window washing scaffold controls.

Sandy saunters over to Josh's corpse. She notices a photo in his pocket as she reaches down and snatches it, putting it into her own pocket. She then turns to see Don struggling to manually turn the winch. Sandy races up to help.

Don slumps onto the scaffold as Sandy winches them down. His eyes close as he passes out.

On the ground, Ambulance officers race to grab Don and give him medical attention. Sandy follows them to the ambulance as they push Don on the stretcher.

Sandy sadly starts to cry as she steps close to the drain in the gutter. Her hand reaches into her pocket to pull out the loving photo of two people cuddling up. She drops it into the storm water drain.

The photo floats through the air, spinning and turning as it slides through the grate down into a trickle of water. It floats downstream and flips over to reveal the image of herself in a loving embrace with her cherished partner — her psychotic blood covered boyfriend — Josh.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A cop gets to a scene where these people's body parts fall from a building. Someone is holding hostages on the top floor. He charges into the building. He weaves his way through booby traps which killed one guy into the building but the last trap blows the exit and shuts off his exit. It's dark. He tries to get the people out but when people start dying, he goes after the killer. Problem is, he is following a trail of dead hostages who he should be protecting."

I wrote this out basically exactly as it's written here. I did have some huge problems though. Fresh Traps. How to show new traps that weren't complicated. I did well but the traps slowed down the action. I had an entire trap as a false floor with spikes. It was on the edge of your seat stuff but an entire page which slowed down the story.

This story also conflicted with another concept I have. I had to choose which I would make different. I kept this one very much the same since it was the more powerful considering the Genre matching the concept.

The thing I wanted to focus on was the core of what makes a great horror. There are two types. One is the killer known and visible. That plays on the dramatic Irony of us knowing the killer is there and others not knowing. You will notice I used this in the second half of the story. But the other type is the detective story, finding out who the murder really is.

The main thing is to kill off the characters one by one. Obviously I couldn't have the usual number of characters killed like most horrors since this is not a movie but it still has the atmosphere and setups for a movie.

I LOVE the horror genre but I have to make a career choice. I'm targeting 2 ranges. High budget action, and low budget thriller. I tend to be way too overboard with my horror, but that doesn't stop me from having horror as a genre I can write for. And this brings me to a stark opposite — A romance story called: Love Shock.

Concept: A shell shocked veteran returns and struggles to fit in, and the biggest difficulty is falling in love with a shy job search case manager.

Contents

LOVE SHOCK

On the couch, stressed and dressed in a military uniform, George, about 35, doesn't want to be here. He's rough with messy hair and beard growth but his uniform is neat. "I'm not going."

On the walls, there are psychologist certificates and qualifications. In the leather arm chair, Isabel, 40's, glasses, pompous appearance. "If you don't go, things are only going to get worse."

"This is useless. I'm outta here."

He gets up ready to leave.

She stands. "Wait, maybe we can try something else."

George pauses at the door, he looks around. "I'm not going."

"Alright don't go. But instead of rehab, will you go here?

She holds out a card. George approaches. "What is it?"

"It's a job network agency. They will help you get some work. Nothing major, just something to get you back into the swing of things."

"No pressure?"

"None."

"I can quit anytime?"

"No questions asked."

George takes the card. He looks at it. "Ok I'll give it a shot."

She smiles. "You've got a mobile phone right? If you have a problem, call me ok?"

"Ok."

Outside the agency, George holds the card and looks up at the sign. He rolls his eyes and ventures inside.

Inside, he looks around at the staff. A young man wearing a suit, an old lady with a battle axe expression, a young shy looking bookish woman in her early 20s, Anna. He waits and no one even notices him. He turns and opens the door to leave. Anna looks up and sees him. "Oh, I'm sorry sir."

George pauses holding the door. She builds up her courage. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

George thinks. He lets the door shut, turns around and looks into her eyes. The elegant glasses frame them and accentuate the deep hypnotizing blue. George's stern countenance softens, his frozen heart melts. He manages a smile and it suits his handsome face to a T. "Yeah I was hoping you could help me."

"Well sir, that's what I'm here for. My name's Anna."

He half smiles. "I'm George. Nice to meet you Anna."

She holds the door of the interview room, open for George. He moves in, slightly nervous. She gestures to the chair and then as George sits, she shuts the door and moves around to the other side of the desk.

She sits down and opens her folder. "So I'll set up a profile for you?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know what we do?"

"No Ma'am."

"Well what we do is get all your work details and set up a profile. Then when someone is looking for people to hire, we look through the files to find matches to meet their needs."

George nods, "So what do you like to do?"

"Um... I like to do a good job."

"No I mean in your spare time."

Her shyness shines through. "Well... I like to write stories."

"Words weave wonder into the world, bringing forth the ringing signal, announcing the miracles of the beautiful imagination."

"Wow, you write too?"

"No, but I did well in English at school."

She smiles. In the awkward silence, she looks down and grabs the form. "Um... this is a form for you to fill in. It's pretty straight forward."

George reaches out gently and grasps the form with a smooth touch. He slides it over towards him and she feels the form caress the bottom of her fingertips.

Her eyes flutter in recognition of her experience. She shies away. "Um... so... what are you good at?"

"I don't know."

"You've had previous work right?"

"Yeah."

"Well what did you do?"

George screws up his face in emotional torment. His eyes squint at the flashes of war.

He builds up his courage and sighs. "Military. I was in the war."

She picks up on his pain. She gulps, unsure of what to ask. "So did you see some lovely scenery sometimes?"

She rolls her eyes at her stupid question. He thinks for a second. "Yeah but not often."

"You can dig holes right. Or stack boxes and stuff?"

"I don't know."

"Well how about I start you on something like that at first?"

"I don't know."

"I have a job I can send you to tomorrow if you would like. It's a fencing job. Just digging holes for the fencer. Do you want me to make the call?"

George pauses, sighs. "Ok I'll give it a shot."

A week later, out in the paddock. George is digging a hole. Donny the Boss' son, stands over George, watching. "Ya think you're pretty good at that ay?"

"No Sir."

"Then why do you work so fast? You trying to make me look bad?"

"No Sir."

George keeps digging. Donny scans the area looking for his father. Donny then spots the old roll of barbwire tied up with tie wire. "Hey George I need your help."

George looks up with skeptical eyes. Donny gestures to the roll. "I need you to untie that roll of wire."

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions, just do as I say."

"I work for you Dad, not y —"

"You want me to tell him to fire your ass?"

George has a saddened gaze. He walks over and unties it and holds the barbwire tight with his hand.

Donny looks up and sees his dad approaching in the distance behind George. He then moves over to the hole with the shovel. Donny smiles. "Now put it down on the ground."

"But it —"

"Don't but me, just do it."

George sighs. He distances himself from his hand as if springing a rat trap.

He lets go and the barbwire springs out. The end darts for George's head. He ducks, falling backwards. The barbwire flicks him in the head and cuts his brow. Blood trickles down.

On the ground, he opens his eyes. He sees the roll of barbwire like in the war. He reaches up and feels the blood. He sees his hand with blood on it and he freaks out. Semi—tangled in the barbwire, he hears the boss yell out "George!"

Donny stands with the shovel and darts towards George, who catches a glimpse of him. George has a flash back of an enemy soldier charging the barbwire in a battle. Instantly he grabs the other shovel and charges up through the barbwire thrusting the shovel handle at Donny's throat to tackle him. George has survival war rage in his eyes as he roars, constantly chocking Donny with the shovel handle until SLAM! The Boss tackles George to the ground. The boss holds him down. "George settle down!"

George struggles with terror in his eyes. The boss looks at him strangely. "What the hell is wrong with you freak?"

George snaps out of his trance. He looks around frantically. Empty farmland. His gaze calms as the boss lets him go. George sees the boss go over to Donny and the mess of Donny's face. Emotional pain wells up as he tears himself and runs to a tree where he curls up in a ball and sobs.

Isabel sits at her desk facing George who has healing cuts over his face and hands. He looks stressed. She empathizes. "Don't worry about it. If you ask me, he deserved it."

"But I could have killed him."

"But you didn't."

"I just want a normal life."

"So go to rehab."

"I'm not going to a mental hospital."

"It's not like that. It's like an easy going school class. And you don't have to go straight away. In a few months, they will have the new group starting here in town. It's only a couple of hours a week so the rest of the time you continue to have a normal life. The thing is, you need to establish relationships."

"Relationships. Like friends?"

"Perfect. People who can help you get through... Are you going to go for another job."

"If they let me."

"Don't worry, they are pretty forgiving."

She smiles at him. George nods slightly.

At the job network office, George walks up and looks at the sign and then the door. He sighs.

Inside, Anna works away in obscurity. She hears the door open and finishes what she is typing. She looks up to see George with saddened gaze, contemplating if he should leave or not.

Her heart goes out to him before she encouragingly smiles. "George!"

He sheepishly looks up at her. "Hey Anna."

She tilts her head as if to say: Come on in.

At the desk, she pulls out his profile. "I'll sort out some other jobs for you in the next few days. It might be a bit hard... I heard what happened."

"I didn't mean it."

"Don't worry. I've been wanting someone to bash him for years."

George looks up at her cheeky smile and cheers up a little.

She looks at him, somewhat star struck. "You really know your stuff."

"It's just training."

"I find it fascinating."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm writing a story about a guy drafted into the military who is the biggest coward and a genius at running away and hiding from every confrontation. Problem is I don't know how the military works."

George shyly looks up at her inviting smile. He waits through the silence. She waits for his response, until she accepts his reluctance. She looks down at the form. "Let's see if we can get you another —"

"I can help you with your story if you want?"

Her smile comes back as she looks up at him, pleased. "I'd like that."

Her place is beautiful. It's so peaceful. Beautiful seascape art and cool calm blues govern the color scheme. It's all about relaxation from the blue bean bags to the soft recliner chairs. The TV is small and old yet the stereo system is state of the art.

George scans the room in awe. Anna smiles at his adoration as she moves towards the super clean kitchen. "Would you like a drink?"

"Water thanks."

Sitting down on the couch looking at the book, they examine the notes on the notepad. She scribbles down some short hand. "Sounds pretty complicated to me."

"I'll explain it more later if you like."

"Sure."

In the uncomfortable silence, he looks at his watch. "Jesus look how late it is."

She looks at her watch. "Damn I've gotta get up in 5 hours."

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to keep you up."

"No don't be sorry. I really enjoyed tonight."

"Really? Me too."

She smiles somewhat seductively. "I can get 5 hour sleep tomorrow night too if you like."

He smiles. "Some other time."

Her smile relents with understanding. "Oh... Ok."

They start to head over to the front door. He opens the door and steps through. She stands, waiting, hoping. He stops. He waits. He thinks.

Turning his head to the side, he looks back at her. "Thanks Anna. Sweet dreams."

He dashes off down the steps and heads down the street.

She watches his shadowy figure walking off into the distance, and with an understanding nod and smile, she says quietly, "I will. You too."

Isabel smiles from her office chair. "So it's all ok then?"

George smiles. "Yeah you were right. They are pretty forgiving."

"I'm getting the rehab stuff sorted for when you want to go. I have some pamphlets here for you to read."

She pulls them out of her folder and hands them to him. The front one reads: "You're not alone."

Another reads: "Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Facts and Myths."

He gulps. She sees his reaction. "No pressure remember. You take the steps when you're ready."

"It makes me sound like I'm a nut job."

"Courage is best shown when a man admits he needs help. It's something to be admired. Those that don't agree are immature and ignorant to reality. Humans are social creatures. It doesn't hurt to ask. We need to ask. We need to be there for each other. People who don't believe that are fools. There are no Rambo one man armies in the military. They are well refined teams. It's the same back home. You aren't fighting this alone."

"Yeah but in the army, I killed the crazy people."

"You're not crazy ok? I don't want you saying that again. You just have to acclimatize to the different way of life ok? You just have to adjust to your new way of life."

"Yeah I know."

"So how are you going at the moment?"

"Well... I have been helping out the Job Network lady with some of her writing and I really enjoy that."

"Are they paying you well?"

"Nar she invited me around to her place. We talked til 3am."

"Wow. See? That's great progress. Was it like a date?"

"No no not like that. She's too young for me and I'm not good enough for her."

"How old is she?"

"22."

"Well she's old enough to make her own decisions. Look at Hugh Hefner —"

"Who?"

"Playboy billionaire. He's like 80 years old and his wife is about 25."

"That's just sick."

"Yeah but don't worry about age when you both are over 21. And you're good enough for anyone. Don't put yourself down ok?"

"Ok but it's not like that. I'm just helping her out."

"Well as long as you're happy, that what matters."

He smiles.

George, in slightly casual clothes, walks more confidently into the Network Agency straight up to Anna. "G'day Anna."

She looks up and smiles. "George you look well today."

"I feel much better thanks. So shall I come through?"

Her countenance slumps apologetically. "I'm sorry George. I haven't found any more work for you yet and I have clients coming in. Would you like to make an appointment?"

He is disheartened. "Oh I see."

She empathizes. "I'll see what I can do and then give you a call ok?"

He waits a nervous second. "OK... Well... Bye."

He turns and heads for the door. She perks up. "George?"

He pause and looks around. She continues. "I have a few minutes I can spare now but we have to be quick."

He smiles and turns back.

In the office, he sits down. "Did you find any jobs. Anything at all?"

She opens the file. "A few but I think there is only one that you would like... A video store needs someone to serve the cust —"

"No."

"But —"

"I don't want to be around heaps of people and movie sounds."

"It's the only good job I have. I'm sorry."

"What are the others?"

"You don't want this job."

His eye, plead. "Please tell me."

She sighs and looks down at the file. "It's cleaning toilets."

"Oh... Well... I could handle that."

"But they are sickening."

"You don't know what sickening is. It's work. Sign me up."

She nods. "Ok. Done. I'll get it sorted for you."

A knock at the door. It opens. She looks up to see a young man in a suit. "Your 10 o' clock is here."

She nods. "Thanks."

The door shuts.

George stands. "I better go."

She hands a card over to him. "Go see this guy. He'll show you what to do."

He grabs the card and smiles. "Thanks."

A few days later, a scrubbing brush scrapes the sparkling toilet bowl. The mobile phone sounds. It startles him as he looks around. He puts the brush down, fiddles with the mobile, and then puts it to his ear. "Hello?"

Anna is at her office. "George, it's Anna."

"What's the news?"

"Well I just want to see how the work is going."

"It's going well."

"Good good... Um... I was hoping we could catch up at my place later for some more writing stuff?"

"Oh... Um... Well I don't think I should —"

"I'll pay you."

"It's not about the money."

"Well let me make you dinner."

"But —"

"Roast chicken with baked vegetables and mouth watering gravy."

George gulps. "That sounds awesome."

"So I'll see you at 6 tonight?"

"Umm..."

"Good. You'll love it."

"Alright. 6."

"Cool. See ya then."

She smiles and hangs up.

He sighs and puts the phone away before getting back to work.

George has on his casual neat clothes and is now clean shaven with his hair neat and tidy. He knocks on her front door. As he is wiping his hair down keeping it neat, the door opens. She smiles but her smile fades as she sees him. "Wow you scrub up well."

George blushes as she stares at him. He breaks the silence. "Um can I..."

"Oh for sure. Come in come in."

She blushes, slightly embarrassed. She is done up really nice but still has her glasses on.

He finishes his meal and has a sip of his red wine. "That was incredible. Where did you learn to cook like that?"

"I come from a big family. Mum always got me to help with the cooking. I told you you would love it."

She stands and starts collecting the dishes. He stands promptly and does the same. "Let me help you with that."

Later they are laughing in the lounge room. He sits on the couch and she is sitting on the floor looking up at him. The note pad and pen are on the table. Both have glasses of wine and she appears a little bit drunk. Coming out of her laugh, she says, "I think I have had enough to drink."

She takes her glasses off and puts them down on the notepad. She rubs her eyes and then looks up at George. George is stunned by her beauty. She smiles as she sways a little. "I can't see properly."

"I can see beautifully."

She then swallows the last mouthful and puts the glass down next to the note pad. She stands. George stands too also sculling the last mouthful. He starts to reach down to pick up her glass as she trips on the corner of the table. She's falling.

Instantly he abandons the glass and darts to the side to catch her in his arms. They pause... Him holding her... Sort of confused... She starts to hug him... He hesitates, then reciprocates slightly.

She feels the comfort and snuggles in peaceful serenity. George looks up at the wall, somewhat uncomfortable but he breaths out, sighing into acceptance and embracing the moment. He starts to feel the peace and closeness. He closes his eyes and takes it all in.

As she feels his head tilt in to hers for a hug, she turns her head and kisses his neck once, testing. George opens his eyes in surprise. He pulls away slightly but only out of surprise.

She pauses. Her countenance fades. "I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

She pulls back but he keeps her embraced in his arms, looking at her. She lifts her gaze to look into his eyes. He smiles at her. "Why be sorry for being an angel?"

A tear of joy runs down her cheek. George wipes it away lovingly with his thumb. He then kisses the tear, tasting it. As he moves his hand aside, she takes a deep love filled breath, closes her eyes and pulls herself to his tender lips.

The kiss is slow but firm. George pulls her firmly against his strong body. She slides her body firmly against him.

In the bed, they lay there, him on his back, arm underneath her, cradling her. The sheet barely covers his waste revealing his masculine chest. Her head lies on his heart, listening to the beat of life in the afterglow, her breasts pressing up against his ribs. She is in heaven and sleeps with a peace some could only dream of.

He lays there awake looking at the ceiling. He looks at her gorgeous expression in adoration, before smiling with a wisp of worry. He looks back at the ceiling, sighs, and shuts his eyes.

Sleep.

AHHHHH!!! George screams. Sweat drenched he shivers, terrified. Anna, startled from her sleep, looks at him panicky. "What? What's wrong?"

He starts to pant as his shock recedes. "I..."

His face screws up in torment.

She hugs him, comforting him. He looks at the time. Nearly 5am. "I'm gonna go to work."

"It's too early."

"Don't worry, I'll come back tonight."

She looks saddened as he gets out of bed and leaves.

The alarm clock sounds the next morning, 6:30 am. He wakes up peacefully with her and she smiles at him. "That's better."

"Yeah but I still have to go to work."

He gets up and they smile at each other before he leaves.

Isabelle sits at her desk, George opposite her. He has a calm smile. She noticing his aura. "You look pretty cheerful. What's the news?"

"I'm really liking this job."

"Not that."

He shyly pauses, eyes darting, put on the spot. "I... you know the girl at the job network place?"

She thinks. "Anna?"

"Yeah... me and her..."

He looks sort of like a school boy. She smiles. "Are an item?"

He smiles, blushing. Isabelle grins at the good news. "Congratulations."

The joy calms in the silence until Isabelle asks, "How is she handling the nightmares?"

His smile fades. "I freaked her out the first night but I think she's cured me. I haven't had a single nightmare for a week now."

"Does she know?"

"I'm not telling her I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy but you have to think of telling her about the nightmares and flash backs."

"I'll be ok. Everything will be fine."

"She deserves to know."

"I know. I'm just not ready yet."

"You don't want to tell her after it's too late."

He dwells on her words. "She'll be right."

Anna is out the front on the grass watering the plants. A car pulls up. George gets out and with a smile, he nods at the driver. As the car drives off he walks towards Anna. They both smile, moving to embrace.

As he gets close, BANG!! A car back fires but George dives, tackling her to the ground. She struggles. He holds her down. "Keep your head down."

"Get the hell off me."

George is stunned, frozen, confused. She yells, "George!"

He snaps out of it and lets her go. She stands, angry. "For Christ's sake it was just a bloody car back firing."

She turns to head inside. He stands following her. "Anna, please, I'm sorry."

She pauses looking back at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I... I..."

"You're crazy."

"I'm not crazy!"

"That wasn't normal George... You need help."

She turns and walks inside.

They sleep. George looks agitated in his sleep.

He dreams:

BANG! The door burst open. An Iraqi woman holding her baby stands in the middle of the room. Men around her stand up pulling AK 47s to the aim. Gun fire cracks. The men fall and the woman is hurt.

She sways. George runs to help her as she slumps to the floor. She pulls herself away from George as he races up beside her. She screams in pain with a few words yelled to her family. "Get some help!"

He leans down towards her as she fearfully backs away from him. He reaches out. "I want to do the right thing."

Her hand reaches out towards a blanket. She pulls a belt from underneath the blanket.

His eyes widen in fear. It's a suicide bomb. Instantly, rage builds and he pushes the screaming child aside and repeatedly punches the Iraqi woman in the head. She covers her face with one arm as the other arm reaches for the bomb.

In the bed, he tosses, freaking out. Anna sits up and looks at him, worried. "George. Wake up."

He struggles more. She doesn't know what to do. She lifts her hand and softly slaps him on the face.

His eyes snap open with rage. Instantly he pushes her over raising his fist and semi—choking her with his other hand. She screams and covers her face with her arm. George pauses, uncertain. She sees her chance. "George! Wake up!"

She relaxes into tears. He pants and sees her move her arm. As he sees the tears, he winces in worry and emotional torment. "Oh God."

His fist relaxes as he reaches down gently with a loving touch. She pushes him away. "Don't touch me."

He climbs out of bed and grabs his clothes. He looks back at her curled up in the bed, sobbing. "I don't deserve you. I never did. I'll never bother you again."

Her sobbing quietens as she looks up to see him leave. Emotional pain builds up. She realizes, in an instant, she has lost everything that made her life complete. Devastated, she fully cries.

That morning, George storms into Isabelle's front office, distraught, like a victim of a car bomb, dazed and confused racing into the emergency ward. Looking around, he zeros in on his target, the office assistant. He charges towards the young girl. "I need to see Isabelle now."

The girl freezes, scared. He slams his fist down on the bench. "Now!"

She shudders in fright. A door opens and Isabelle pokes her head out seeing George. She looks back inside the room. "Excuse me for a minute."

She races over towards George. He looks at her. "Isabelle I lost everything."

He starts to tear up. "I am crazy. I punched her."

She leads him towards a room. "Hey it will work out ok. Just calm down.

Inside George wides his eyes. Isabelle nods. "I see. Well I really think you should take the next step. Are you sure?"

"I know now. I need that rehabilitation. I need to get better. Will they make me better?"

She sighs.

Later, he walks into a building. The sign reads: Veteran Rehabilitation.

Anna looks into the mirror as she puts makeup on to cover the bruises.

A few weeks pass as he sits with a group of other traumatized people, chanting a cognitive thinking mantra in harmony with the rest of the group.

Anna in now working with a short hair cut. She looks like a new woman, but with the same gaze of sadness.

George sits alone on his old worn out couch in the barren apartment. No TV, nothing, and he stares at the wall.

In the mental health center, Anna talks to a mental health worker who shakes his head when she shows him a photo of George.

George nods at what the Rehabilitation doctor says to him.

Anna has a business card she checks as she stands outside Isabelle's office building.

Night and George sits alone on his couch, looking at the picture, stroking her hair with his finger tip.

At the same time, Anna sits alone trying to write her book. She starts to cry.

The next day, in the rehabilitation center, George sits down in the Doctor's office.

The Doctor smiles. "Hey George. So are you ready to give the world another shot?"

"Sort of."

"Don't worry about it mate. If you need to come back to the center for anything feel free. You can call me anytime too... We're gonna miss you around here."

George sits silently with a slight smile.

The Doctor smiles somewhat sneakily but in a good way. "I've got some news for you."

George perks up listening, hopeful.

She continues. "I got a call from Isabelle. It seems Anna was looking for you yesterday."

George's countenance deflates. "Thanks."

The Doc notices his aura. "Maybe you should get in touch with her."

"I can't."

"You're not a bad person George. Your only problem now is to forgive yourself."

"I won't risk hurting her again."

"What if you are hurting her more now by avoiding her than you ever did accidentally?"

George sits quietly.

The doc signs a bit of paper and hands it to him. "Well give me a call some time and let me know how you're going ok?"

George grabs the paper and stands. "No problem. Thanks again Doc."

"You're welcome. Take care George."

George turns and leaves.

Outside, George turns and heads down a side path. Running footsteps are heard behind him. He turns and catches a glimpse of Anna running towards the Rehab center. George stops and peers through the bushes watching her run inside. He looks down in thought.

Inside, she races up to the assistant. "I'm looking for George McCorly."

The assistant looks up at her. "I'm sorry miss. He just left, not even 5 minutes ago."

Before she finishes the sentence, Anna is already running outside. George is hiding in the bushes watching her look around madly. She cups her mouth with her hands and yells, "George! I love you George! Where are you?!"

George steps towards her smiling and then stops. His face contorts with emotional pain. He looks up at her in the distance as she gets in her car. She sits there, waiting, crying.

He lifts his finger tips to his lips and kisses them. He then holds out his fingers and closes one eye to stroke her hair like he did in her picture. He then abruptly turns and walks away as a tear runs down his face.

The Job Network agency is quiet. It's like the magic is lost. It's gloomy and the drizzling grey sky makes it worse. She grabs a pen and starts writing on the form but the pen doesn't work. She tosses it aside. Looking for another pen, she opens up drawers. Nothing.

She stands and goes to her purse and pulls out another pen. As she pulls it out, it's been leaking and blue ink is all over her fingers. Her face contorts with anger and she throws the pen in a rage at the wall.

She looks out the window. As a drop of water runs down the window, a matching tear rolls down her face. A shadow forms at her door. "Would you like a pen that works?"

Her eyes light up with hope as she turns to see George. He smiles, holding up a pen. "I was hoping you could help me get a job. I was thinking along the lines of helping a brilliant and beautiful young writer or something. Someone who will accept a recovering veteran's apologies."

She looks at him silently. Her expression goes blank. George's smile fades. Her eyes contort with sadness. George lowers the pen. She darts up into his arms and hugs him lovingly. Tears run down onto his shoulder, soaking into his clean shirt.

She kisses him on the neck, once. "Oh God I missed you. Whatever problems we have, I know we can work them out together."

He pulls back and puts his fingers under her chin. He tilts her head up to look him in the eyes. "I love you too Anna."

They kiss passionately with a love that makes them want to be closer than humanly possible. It's cosmic.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A man comes back from war shell shocked and his girlfriend has split up with him and he struggles to get back with her. When he finally does, he has an episode and freaks her out. She leaves him. He tries to get back with her but she gives him the cold shoulder. In rehab, he is making a lot of progress and they have a surprise for him for his progress. His girlfriend turns up and says she hasn't seen the smiling man for a long time and that's who she loves."

I didn't use the original since it had a break up and then the story of getting back together. Instead, I changed her into a new character who he has never met so that the romance could start progress, fail, then come to completion. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl. In the tradition of the true romantic stories.

I avoided the tragic love story here since I'm focusing on the normal genre styles. But this is a very different style from the common romance story.

1. My main characters are damaged goods. I tend to HATE romantic movies because the characters are so distant from the realm of what it is to be human. The guys are handsome and perfect except for one single flaw. The women are just perfect.

2. My all is lost point at the end of Act 2 is seriously all is lost. It's seriously bad. But it's not his fault. Another thing I hate about most romance movies at this point is usually the guy is being stupid and egotistic where I just want to smash his face in for being a moron and possibly losing the greatest thing that ever happened to them. Well maybe just slap him but you get the drift.

I could do the fluffy love fantasy but reality has drama and I like this reality in my story. Sometimes reality is way too dark to be put into a story. With knowing how dark the world can be, I have to back off. Here's another dark story for you. A thriller: Forgive Me Father.

Concept: When a woman suspects a priest of killing her sister and the police won't help, she uses herself as bait to bring the killer to justice.

Contents

FORGIVE ME FATHER

Laughter wafts from the girls as they gas bag looking at the photo album. The thirteenth floor room screams girly and seductive. They flip the page to a picture of them both kissing a younger boy who looks terrified. Sarah, 28, is a journalist who is sloppy in her track suit and frizzy hair. "Oh My God I totally forgot about this."

Tammy, 24, in her prissy dress, looks on with adoration. "I thought he was cute."

"A teddy bear with a big mouth."

Tammy chuckles. "The poor bastard. I swear he wet his pants when you told him about the tag team whips and chains."

"Well he deserved it. Little punk saying I was his girlfriend."

"I think we turned him gay."

They both laugh until Tammy looks at her watch, shocked by the time. "Jesus I've gotta go to bed."

Sarah is intrigued. "For what?"

Tammy starts putting loose photos back into a shoe box. "Well you've seen Father James right?"

Sarah helps with the photos. "From when I was shooting the Church Attendance story?"

"Yeah. Don't you think he's sexy?"

"God Tammy, you can't stop thinking about seducing these poor bastards can you?

"Hey it's spring, the season for love. And I think he likes me. Plus, this is different. I like him too."

Sarah throws the last of the loose photos into the box. "He's a priest. You want him to break his vows?"

Tammy closes the shoe box. "If he does, it means he is willing to give up anything for me. What better test is there of true love?"

"And you say I'm cruel."

Tammy laughs as she rises to her feet. "But I won't cut off his balls if he turns up late to a date."

Sarah puts the album on the table as she stands. "So what time do you go for the hunt?"

"Eight a.m."

Tammy seductively winks at Sarah. "I'm going alone."

Sarah shakes her head. "Don't be too hard on him."

They chuckle as Tammy heads off to bed. "Night Sarah."

Sarah, smiling with joy, watches her sister strut away. "Night Sis."

In the chapel, Jake, 13, an altar boy, caresses the crucified life—size body of Jesus, with his damp dusting cloth. He slowly runs the rag over Jesus' chest with a deep affection.

Suddenly, a noise breaks him out of his trance. Startled, he spins around to face Tammy. Contrary to her promiscuous mini skirt, she has an innocent pose as she gives a shy smile and cute wave. He shyly stops and pulls himself away from the statue. As she approaches, he shyly looks up at her. "Hi Tammy. What are you doing here?"

"Well Jake I was wondering where Father James was. I'm hoping he can help me reach an all new level of spiritual excitement."

Jake seems uncomfortable. "Can you help me with my studies again?"

Tammy tilts her head with an innocently apologetic mask. "I'm sorry Jake but I can't. I have too much to do now. Later ok?"

Jake's eyes look down as he pouts. She kneels to look into his eyes. "Hey don't be like that. You know I'll help you out when I have time. I'll be all yours and I'll even sneak some lollies in for you ok?"

His eyes look up at her. "Ok Tammy."

He turns and scurries away. Tammy looks at the door to the back of the church.

Father James sits at his desk with his rosary beads, rocking back and forth, rife with anxiety, his pleading eyes reading over Hail Mary prayers as he verbalizes his ritualistic chants. "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

He doesn't notice the door creak open and Tammy standing seductively at the door. "Am I the answer to your prayers?"

He jerks, startled. He looks around freaking out. Anxiety rips through him as he scurries to hide the book and the beads. "Tammy, um, you scared me. You um..."

He sees her clothing which stops him in his tracks. He gulps.

"May I come..."

She smiles seductively at him as she looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "... in?"

He turns away shy. "Please Tammy, you shouldn't have come."

She struts inside the room up beside him. "But Father, I need you. You are the answer to my prayers and a testament to God's glory. You are proof that God exists."

He sternly faces her. "Please. Stop."

"How can I stop what God has destined me to do?

"How can you be destined to do this when God tells me this is a temptation into sin?"

Tammy relaxes her seductive look and puts on her innocent puppy dog eyes. "You always tell me that God is love. How could it be that he would ever force his cherished children to suppress the core essence of who he is? Didn't he command us to go forth and multiply? Didn't he think it's unfair that man should live alone and design us to be one in the unity of love? James, I know you feel it too."

He salivates over her as he turns away, struggling to control himself. "I... I can't."

"What's wrong? You're not.... gay... are you?"

James' eyes widen as he hurriedly turns to defend his reputation. "No of course not."

"Then what is it?"

On the spot, he mumbles. "Um, it's just, ahh, I um haven't been with a girl in a long time and I don't want anything bad to happen you know?"

"Well don't worry James. You'll soon see how good I am."

She grabs him and pulls him into her loving embrace. She pashes him and he squirms, uncomfortable but he soon lets his true self come through and passionately kisses her back. Tammy's hand closes the door, hiding the scene from the statue of Jesus.

Soon after in the back room of the church, she lays naked in Father James' bed as he quivers with anxiety beside her. She comfortingly touches his hair and he turns his back on her. She seems sad. "James what's wrong?"

"Please Tammy, you should go."

"But I —"

"Now."

She stands and dresses. "James we are meant for each other, but we can never be, if you don't open up to me. What's wrong."

"It's just..."

He looks over at the door which is slightly ajar. He gulps. "I can't. Please it's too dangerous. You have to leave before it's too late."

She looks confused. "What are you talking —"

Suddenly, James turns over with rage in his eyes. "Get out!"

She snatches her top, collecting her things. She turns and storms out the door. James looks towards the door with a disgusted hate—filled gaze.

Tammy, pauses in the church. She thinks as she holds her white top in her hands. Thud! Red splatters over her top. She falls onto the altar. Candles spill from a heavy candelabrum as it's lifted for another blow. Numerous soggy thuds, echo through the church as blood drips into the baptismal holy water. When the fury stops, blood—covered gloves wash in the bowl.

Footsteps walk away.

In the store room to the side. Jake looks around, listening. He steps towards the church and looks through the door. He sees the blood and races to see. "Oh God no!"

He races to the phone and dials. As he looks out at her corpse, he screams frantically into the phone, "Oh God she's dead. She's dead!"

Even though the spring sun is high in the sky, out the front of the church, flashing red and blue lights splash off the priest's face. Jake stands next to him as the police finish talking to them. "This is a tragedy Father but we'll catch the killer. Lucky you two were with each other at the time. It probably saved you both. If you need anything, let me know. I gotta go inform the family."

The 32 year old officer taps James on the shoulder. James looks up at him. "Thanks Danny." Danny nods and walks off. Jake and James look at each other.

As they leave, the press photos start flashing and reporters scream obscene questions.

Later, Sarah's tears stop as she sniffles. Tissues are everywhere. She holds the photo album of her and Tammy kissing the boy. Her sobbing subsides as she looks at the saddened faces of James and Jake on TV. Her hatred builds. "You're gonna pay."

At the police station the next day, she throws her arms into the air in a violent argument. "I don't care, you lock him up and throw away the friggin' key because I don't want to handle this my way."

Officer Danny's eyes sour at the threat. "You better leave the poor man alone. He's been through enough and I'm sure you don't want to be in a cell with me and a phone book."

With the change of seasons, Autumn leaves replace the blossom of flowers outside the church. Father James smiles and shakes the hands of the congregation as they depart. The last of the people leave and James steps inside, bumping into Sarah who is stunningly dressed. She falls.

James' eyes widen in guilt—ridden dread. "Oh my God I'm so sorry. Are you ok?"

She turns to face him with a smile and her smile fades as she feigns a look of love at first sight. "I'm heavenly now thanks Father."

She holds her hand out asking for a hand up. James gulps as he pauses, then he tenderly takes her hand and pulls her to her feet. She then turns her back and bends down to grab her purse, making sure James gets a great view of her gorgeous behind. James is almost drooling over her and then snaps into a fearful look and turns away.

She stands and turns around to see him looking away. She shows a micro expression of disappointment before she smiles seductively. "Father you are so inspiring. You make me feel so valued and so safe, but I also feel I need to confess my sins to you. I want to tell you everything."

He turns to look at her. "Don't I know you?"

"Little o' me? I don't think so Father, but you can get to know me inside and out."

He gulps. "You plan to attend church more often?"

"Well sure Father, and maybe I could hang around and help out at the church. I'm excellent at cleaning and I don't mind getting a little dirty. I would love to do something to make you happy. Is there anything I can help you with?"

James slightly smiles. "Well, Jake usually cleans everything but it would be good to have another helper. Thank you. I have to get you a form though. I'll just go get it."

He takes off inside. Sarah steps up the aisle and looks at the altar, somewhat sadly. Suddenly someone grabs her arm. She jumps, startled as she turns around. She sees Jake standing there. He smiles. "Can I help you ma'am?"

"Oh um maybe. Father James said he has a cleaner. Are you Jake?"

"I like to make sure everything is tidy."

"It must have been hard to clean up when that lady died here."

Jake's eyes turn angry. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Did they ever catch who did it?"

He says nothing.

She squats to his level. "Is everything ok?"

He shyly looks up at her. "I can't say anything."

"Of course you can. Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"I don't want to be scared anymore."

"What do you mean? Why are you scared?"

"I don't know what he will do."

"Who?"

He looks at the back door where James went. She looks with realization. James comes out and sees Jake and Sarah talking. His smile sours.

Jake shyly runs away.

James approaches. "He's a good kid but he's troubled in some ways. You know?"

"He's adorable. A little version of you."

James feels uncomfortable. She notices. She reaches her hand up to put it on his shoulder. He pulls away. She steps closer and lifts her hand to his cheek. He grabs her hand and pulls it away. He pushes her hands back as he steps away, scared of her. "Please no, I don't want to be responsible for what happens."

"I'm sorry, please forgive me... Maybe later? We can get together and have coffee? Just friends?"

He smiles. "That would be good... Here is your form for work."

He holds out the paper. She smiles as she takes it. "Thank you."

Months later, Sarah works on her bedroom wall of photographs of James and the church. A mobile phone rings.

She turns around to see it vibrating on its pedestal which is in the center of a psychotic shrine. She walks over to it and stares as it sings a couple more times.

She pulls it up and opens it. "Hello?... Father wow I forgot I gave you this number. Sorry I took so long to answer. I'm steaming hot and super wet at the moment. I was in the shower. How are you?... I see... Oh... Sure I'll be there soon.... It's so great to hear from you Father... God bless."

She closes the phone. Her gaze goes cold like that of a well worn soldier about to go into battle.

Methodically, she goes through a well—rehearsed ritual of preparing for this exact moment. A cupboard has everything she needs. She grabs her bag which has condoms, lubricant, breath mints and a hair clip.

She opens up the side to show the ultra small camera. She opens the LCD screen on the camera and then presses record. The screen displays the word, "Motion Detection — Recording."

She sits it down and a second after the image stops moving, it stops and displays the words, "Motion Detection — Standing by."

She moves her hand in front of the camera to test it will turn on when it senses movement. It works like a charm. She closes the LCD panel and tucks the camera back into her bag. She then eyeballs the lens in the end of her bag.

Back to the cupboard she looks over her prepared girly outfit. A make—up kit comes out with her hair brush and specifics, all ready to go. Afterward, she fixes her bra strap, adjusts her kinky skirt belt, and pulls her bag over her shoulder.

She's ready for war. As she storms out, she grabs her mobile and her keys and she locks the door. "For you Tammy."

James nervously watches Jake washing the knives and forks in the sink. He builds up his courage to approach.

Jake stands there oblivious of James sneaking up behind him. James clenches his fists as he pushes onwards. As he stands over Jake, hands jittering to the side, he stares at Jake.

Jake washes another knife and places it on the drying rack. "Would you like to wipe the dishes?"

James pauses. He thinks, before he reaches to the side and grabs a tea towel. He starts wiping the dishes. "I don't think you should stay here any longer Jake."

Jake stops, confused. He looks at James. "But you said you need me. You said you would never let me go."

"I know but I don't want anyone getting hurt —"

Suddenly, a knock at the door sounds. Jake looks at James with anxious pleading eyes. James sighs and drops the tea towel. "I better get the door."

James turns to head towards the church door.

He opens it up to see Sarah. She smiles. "Hi Father. I'm so glad you called me. I've been thinking about you a lot."

He steps outside. She notices his grimace. "Something wrong?"

"I don't know what to do Sarah. I'm scared that something bad will happen."

Sarah looks a little worried. "What do you mean?"

"I've... I've been having evil thoughts. I can't talk to anyone. I feel dead inside. I'm scared."

She looks at him with pity. She steps close and cuddles him. "It's ok. I know you are a good man. You are special. You make me feel special."

James feels uncomfortable. He glances around making sure the coast is clear. He relaxes into the freedom of being able to enjoy the embrace.

His relief brings tears to his eyes. He squeezes harder.

She feels his squeeze and she evilly smiles. "We all need to feel special. We are meant to be special. We are meant to be free to say whatever we want. I am here for you and I don't care what you've done."

He sobs. "But you don't know."

She pauses, waiting. "You mean about that girl? It's ok."

"No it's not ok. It's not fair. I don't know what happened. I woke up with blood all over my hands but I swear I never left my room."

"Shhhhh it's ok. I'm here for you. Everything will be fine."

She kisses his temple. He pauses, his sobbing slows.

She smiles as she kisses his ear. He pauses, uncertain.

She kisses more passionately. He closes his eyes and sighs into the moment of pleasure. She increases her kisses. He enjoys it more.

Soon they are passionately kissing and the lust builds. With the pants of pleasure climaxing, she pulls him to the door and opens it. Suddenly, worry strikes him. "Please no."

She smiles seductively. "Come on. I'll make your worries all go away."

She pulls him inside.

At the door to his bedroom. He hesitates. He whispers, "Please I can't."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure everything is heavenly for us both ok?"

She pulls him inside. Jake pokes his head out from the other door and sees the bedroom door closing. His eyes dart with anxious worry.

With the panting of ecstasy, she collapses on top of him and he kisses her, lost in the moment. She smiles as she rolls over and lays in his arms. "Heaven."

He starts to relax as he slowly calms from the effects of the drug—like state. His afterglow smile fades.

She kisses him on the neck and then jumps up to get dressed. She looks at her bag on the shelf, pointing at the bed. She smiles evilly.

As she grabs her clothes and goes over to the full length mirror, his face contorts into rage filled disgust. As she gets dressed, he glares at her with a hatred that burns deep. An evil gaze that would make your skin crawl.

As he looks at her, he sees her eyes glance at him in the reflection of the mirror. She freaks out spinning around. "Shit!"

His eyes plead with sorrow. "No please."

"You're a freak. Jesus you're insane."

"No I swear —"

He gets up and approaches, pleading. She backs away knocking stuff off the shelf. It smashes. "Stay the hell away from me!"

His rage pushes through as he races forward and grabs her. He forcefully whispers in her ear. "Leave now before it's too late."

"Leave me alone you sick freak!"

He aggressively whispers more. "I'm so sorry. Go now and never come back."

She shrugs herself free. "I'm not going anywhere you freak. You're going down."

He erupts in a rage. "Fuck off!"

She stands there shocked as he trembles with fury and torment.

She backs away fearfully, towards the door. As she reaches the door, she wrenches it open and turns to flee. Jake steps out and sees her running away. "Miss are you ok?"

She keeps running. Jake starts running after her. "Miss what's wrong? Please... Miss!"

She flees out the door. Jake races to the door and searches but she is nowhere to be seen. He then turns and looks back to James' bedroom with disdain.

The next morning, the Sunday birds sing outside the sunny day—lit window in the sunny day warmth. Inside, Sarah stares at her alarm clock. Her gaze is cold and she watches the minute click over to 8:30 am. The buzz is deafening but she doesn't budge an inch.

After a minute of staring, she determinedly gets up and slams her hand onto the clock, silencing it as if bludgeoning it to death.

She grabs her bible and heads towards the door.

At the church, many people are gathered. It must be some special occasion. She walks up as she sees the police standing by.

She sees an old lady crying and she walks up to her and asks, "Who's funeral is it?"

The old lady stops stunned and looks at her with anger. "Have you no respect!"

Suddenly, a young man comes up and caringly grabs the old lady. "I'm sorry Miss. Mum was pretty close to Father James you know. Who would know he'd shoot himself."

He guides his sobbing mother away. Sarah, shocked, sinks away into the crowd.

Sarah lies in her bed, eyes open, not even trying to sleep. Bang bang bang! The door is abused by a visitor.

She gets up, already dressed, and opens the door. Two police officers look up at her. Officer Danny asks, "Sarah Cunningham?"

"Yes?"

"We have heard reports that you were close to Father James Henderson. Is that correct?"

"Um not really. You guys told me to leave him alone and I took your advice. I'm trying to forget about him and get on with my life. Why?"

"Well we'd like to know where you were last night Ma'am."

"Something happened?"

"Where were you?"

"I was here trying to bloody sleep and no, no one can vouch for me but I don't give a shit. Now what the hell happened?"

The other officer swallows. "He shot himself last night. I'm sorry ma'am we are just following up on things, trying to understand why, you know?"

She feigns shock. "Jesus. Maybe the guilt got to him. But you know more than me. I got over it all a while ago. If there is anything I can help with, please let me know."

"Ok. Thank you for your time."

As she watches them leave, the phone rings. She sees an officer look back as she gives a hospitable smile, and a prissy wave goodbye. She gently closes the door and her gaze turns dead cold. She saunters over to the phone. "What?"

Jake hiding in the back of the church, talks on a mobile phone. "I saw you with him."

She pauses. "Jake?"

"Don't worry, I won't say anything."

Her eyes dart, trying to fathom his motives. "Are you ok Jake?"

His jaw twitches with disdain. His brow furrows in hatred. "I'm fine. I got your bag for you. Would you like me to bring it around?"

Her eyes roll in dreaded realization. She worriedly gulps. "Sure Jake. Thank you very much. I'll make you a hot chocolate and get the biscuits out."

"What's your address again?"

She pauses, reluctant.

Jake listens, waiting, hoping. "Hello?"

"Sorry I was just seeing if I had biscuits. My address is... 126 Elm Street. It's on the 13h floor. Apartment 66. The one with the red door."

"Well I'll see you soon."

"Looking forward to it."

"Me too."

Jake hangs up and glares at her bag.

Sarah hangs up and her eyes dart with worry.

Jake, wearing a back pack, strolls up to the red door, rugged up for the cold. He knocks on the door with his gloves on.

Sarah looks at the door. She swallows and sighs as she heads toward it.

As the door opens, Jake's disdain turns into puppy dog eyes. Sarah's worry turns into her prissy hospitable look. Their eyes meet with the mask of sweetness that only exists in fairy tales.

Jake rubs his gloved hands together. "Can I come in? It's really cold out here."

"Oh yeah of course. A hot chocolate will warm you up."

She leads him towards the kitchen. "It's so sad about Father James. He was the best man I have ever met."

"I know. I loved it when he played games with me. Do you like games?"

"I was never very good at playing games. I tried playing poker once and they all knew when I was lying."

She laughs but it soon fades into an uncomfortable silence.

She turns to start boiling the stainless steel kettle. "This news isn't easy. I'm not myself you know? I clean forgot that I left my bag behind. If it wasn't for you, I don't know when I would have realized. It mustn't be easy for you."

"Well, this has been the most difficult thing I have ever gone through. I just don't know what I'm going to do."

She finishes preparing his chocolate and waits for the water. "Well Jake I'm here for you if you need me for anything. Where did I leave my bag?"

"It was... It was in his room."

"Oh... Why did you hide it from the police though?"

"Well you are a nice lady. You did something special with Father James and I wanted to pay back the favor. I wouldn't want you to be harassed by the police you know?"

"That's so sweet of you. You won't believe how much I appreciate that."

They stand there uncomfortable. Jake pulls his back pack around and pulls out her bag. He shyly hands it too her.

She smiles as she grabs the bag. "Thank you so much Jake."

She turns around and places it on the bench.

Jake reaches his hand into his back pack. "Don't thank me."

She opens the secret part of the bag and checks the camera. It's still there. Her eyes relax. "Well how can I repay you?"

She starts pouring the hot water in the cup.

Jake pulls out a steel bar as he puts his back pack down. Evilness splashes across his face. "You can sleep with Father James again."

She pauses with an uneasy sense of fear. Jake raises the bar up ready to attack. She sees his reflection in the stainless steel kettle.

Suddenly, Jake lunges at her with the bar. She spins around with the cup and throws it in his face. "Aaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"

She turns and runs for the door. He recovers and sprints after her. She reaches the door and starts to open it. He's getting closer, holding the bar, ready to strike. With the door open wide enough she starts to dart out the door.

Crack!

Thump!

Jake stands over her as she lies on the floor, dazed and confused. He drops the bar onto the floor.

Jake grabs her feet and drags her backwards. In her dazed state, she claws at the floor, teary that she can't claw her way forward.

He drops her legs and goes to the front door. With the gentleness of an angel, he quietly closes the door. "You bitches ruin everything."

He grabs her legs and drags her towards the bedroom. He opens the door and drags her inside.

Once inside, he looks up at the psychotic mosaic of newspaper clippings about Tammy and Father James. To the side he sees the photo of Tammy and her kissing the boy. He pauses. "Jesus. You're her psycho sister."

He scoffs. "This is great."

He opens up the balcony sliding door and drags her out onto the balcony. "So now that he's dead, you've got nothing to live for."

He lifts her and slumps her arms over the balcony rail. He then pulls her face to face his. "You were full of all that hate for nothing."

She half opens her eyes, confused. "What?"

Her eyes close as her view fades to black.

Jake's voice echoes in her head. "James was mine. I made him play with me. He didn't like it but he knew he had no choice. It's not abuse when the altar boy demands it."

Sarah's thoughts envision Jake encouraging James to sexually assault him. James is reluctant until Jake turns psychotic. James then reluctantly puts his hand down Jake's pants.

Jake's voice continues. "But your slut of a sister had no friggin' respect. I saw them. I saw her seducing him away from me."

Sarah's mind visualizes Jake jealously spying on Father James and Tammy having sex.

Jake's cold blooded words emerge. "I didn't even realize I had done it until I heard my thuds hitting the floor where her head used to be."

Sarah's torment builds as she imagines Jake smacking Tammy in the back of the head with the candle stick holder, over and over.

Jake chuckles. "I slipped a sedative into a drink for Father James and made him think he killed her. Jesus he was gullible."

Sarah remembers James telling her how he woke up with blood on his hands.

Jake's voice calms with relief. "Then all I had to do was call the police."

Sarah thinks about how evil the gaze would have been as he hangs up the phone, eyes cold with hatred.

Suddenly, he picks her up and throws her over the balcony rail. His hand jerks as she grabs him and pulls him over the edge. Her other hand snatches the bottom of the rail. He grips her skirt hard, as the two dangle thirteen stories above the cold hard concrete which waits patiently for its prey to fall.

He looks up and terror strikes. He looks away from between her legs as if a shy man would courteously look away from a naked woman. She drowsily looks down to see him looking away.

She reaches down and starts to undo her skirt belt as he gains his footing on the rail below. He starts pulling himself in toward the building as he hears her vengeful words. "Hey Jake, look up and see your fall from grace."

Dread strikes him as he looks up to see her undoing her dress. He frantically reaches for her hand to stop her. His finger tips push her hand away. She pushes her hand down harder. He swings his hand, hitting her hand away. She times it to pull her hand away and his hand misses. Her hand darts freely in to undo the last of the buckle.

The skirt slips away gracefully like undressing for a passionate lover. His eyes widen in fear as he slips away holding her skirt close to his face like a man smelling his lover's scent. The distance between them grows as she watches him fall. "Rot in hell!"

The concrete below is cold and void of life. Thump!

As she pulls herself up, she slips. Her grip wavers as she falls. She reaches for the railing, barely able to see as it rushes away from her.

Yank!

She jerks hard and yells in agony as her hand grips the base of the railing.

Her strength wavers. She starts to lose her grip.

Suddenly, she grips hard and fights the pain. Her other hand viciously swings up to grasp the railing. With a roar of effort, she pulls. Higher she pulls herself up. Anguish and agony. She struggles to get her footing.

Soon she pulls herself over the railing and lands hard on the balcony. She sobs tears of torment and pain.

As sirens bellow down below, she saunters inside over to her bag. She pulls out the camera. She flips over the LCD display, stops it, presses play, and then rewinds it. The camera displays backwards, the recent abuse from Jake.

Outside, the police arrive. Officer Danny gulps as he knocks on the door. No answer. Another knock. "Miss Cunningham! Please answer the door. If you don't, we will be forced to break it down!"

Still nothing. Danny gives the nod.

Sarah sits on the couch, camera in hand. Crunch!

Splinters from the door frame fly past her but she doesn't flinch.

Danny saunters towards her, warily. She has a catatonic stare as tears drip off her chin.

Danny gazes at the LCD screen as Sarah presses play. The footage is of Jake holding the gun under Father James' chin while he sleeps. Bang!

She cries as Danny sits next to her. She turns and sobs on Danny's shoulder. He hugs her comfortingly.

Months later, she shyly walks down the street. A priest steps directly in front of her, blocking her way. Startled, she looks up and sees him holding out a pamphlet. She shakes her head. "No thank you."

As she walks past, his countenance droops at another rejection. "I'm sorry Miss."

She pauses. She turns back and holds out her hand. "Maybe I'm meant to take one."

He smiles with glee as he hands her a pamphlet. "God bless you in abundance Miss."

She continues walking. As she looks at the pamphlet, it reads, "God loves you and wants to help you forgive."

She half smiles as she saunters into the distance.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A woman's sister is killed by someone in a church, so she turns herself into bait a lures the killer into her seductive trap."

That's the type of concept I prefer, and which I stick with these days. It's pure primal, and simple. These days if it's not as easy to write in concept form as this, I won't write it.

This is how simplicity works at a core level. Having this amount of simplicity allows me to have incredible amounts of freedom. You can see what I did with this. I used that freedom to have extreme subtext between dialog and action.

Look at how the dialog can play on metaphors and delve into the realms of who these characters are and how these characters interact. They are free to be themselves.

In Grey Goo, although it's what I consider the best story here, I had to have a lot of jargon and scientist talk. I had to explain what was going on and how the story was unfolding since there are numerous people who would never be able to follow it without that explanation. Even us geniuses would have a hard time. It's just a natural part of Sci—Fi.

Point being, that the simplicity of the plot allows for what I call, burger talk. Termed from the famous Pulp Fiction scene. The plot is so easy to understand. The action so pure and simple. Visual story is them driving, to a location, opening the boot, and pulling out guns. Obviously they are there to confront someone. Dialog story is Jules curious about Amsterdam and Vince sharing his joyful experience of life. If both dialog explained the plan and what they were really doing, the entire scene would have sucked. But the punchy reveal at the end delivered a mass of subtext throughout the scene. Thrillers are often twisty and have a lot of subtext.

My next genre is like the Godfather — the Crime genre: Come and Get It.

Concept: In a corrupt prison, an organ harvesting killer is told by the warden, that the next person to be harvested is either his lover or daughter.

Contents

COME AND GET IT

A foul stench pollutes the presence of an imprisoned priest, Peter, the 36 year old, preaching to the perverted penitentiary inmates. It's a make—shift prison church.

Up the front sits, Des, 25, a psychotic breed about to explode. He's a huge Russian soldier tearing pages from a bible, one by one.

In the middle is Troy, 34, the king pin with the world at his feet. He looks at a photo of himself cuddling his daughter. After a pause, he leans back and relaxes into a massage from his feminine boyfriend, Shannon a 23 year old wannabe woman. He massages Troy's ear with his tongue but Troy seems distant, as if he's in an uncomfortable world of his own.

In front of them, George, 64, a weak old man shyly cringes, gripping a bible close to his chest.

Beside George sits Buber, 22 an oaf of a deadbeat bully. Buber notices George's Bible. "Hey old man, you have a nice bible there."

George tries to move away to the side but can't move far.

Buber leans closer. "I don't have one like that. Gimme a look at yours."

As Buber reaches across and grabs the bible, a swift blur like a snake strike launches, grabbing Buber's wrist. Troy wrenches Buber's wrist back. Buber screams in agony. Troy grabs his hair and jerks it back. Troy leans in close to his ear. "Apologize."

Buber freaks out. "Oh Jesus! George I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"

Troy looks across at George. "Is he forgiven?"

George looks Buber up and down. George then shyly nods.

Troy looks back at Buber. "God seems to be in a good mood."

The preacher watches Troy lean in close to Buber's ear and whisper something.

Troy lets him go. "Now be quiet. You're interrupting the service."

Troy nods at the priest as Buber massages his wrist, sitting like a good little boy. The Priest nods at Troy with a smile, gesturing thanks.

Troy leans back. Shannon leans in close. "I love you so much."

Troy smiles as he closes his eyes. "Ditto."

Outside, Peter shakes the hands of the inmates as they exit the church. He holds out his hand to Des who spits in Peter's face. Peter wipes his face clean and as he opens his eyes, Buber is standing close to his face. Buber holds out his hand. Peter gulps. "God bless you my son."

Peter shakes his hand. Buber nods. He then power walks away as Des turns the corner.

Des walks into the dark gap between the two buildings. He pauses, sensing something strange. He spins around to see a blur of a screw driver which drives its way deep into his eye socket. Pop.

Des staggers back away from Buber who stands there with an evil smile. Des falls onto the ground, convulsing.

Buber storms out from around the corner. He looks at Peter who shakes hands with George. Peter glances up at Buber to see a strange nod. As Buber storms off, Peter's face contorts with dread but he forces a smile. "I have to go George."

Peter storms off and turns the corner. He sees the last twitches of the corpse. "Oh Jesus. Somebody help!"

Instantly, a barrage of guards charge in. Mick, 42, a seasoned, hardcore medic races in. "Oh God let's get him to the infirmary now!"

As a bunch of inmates crowd around, they instantly roll out a stretcher and place Des on board. Like a well—trained team, they work together as if they have done this a thousand times before. Without a care, they charge toward the infirmary. Mick turns to Peter and asks with a loud voice. "What the hell happened?"

Peter looks at him with a cold sad gaze. "I come out, went around the corner, and saw him laying there. Otherwise, I didn't see nothing."

Mick sighs loudly. "Damn."

Troy comes out from the church and pauses, looking sadly at Des' floppy corpse. He glances at the team. Mick looks him in the eye. Troy can hardly look at him but still nods, hello.

Mick charges after the team. "Hurry up. Let's get him prepared for surgery."

Troy sees Peter watching Mick leaving. Peter looks at Troy's eyes with disgust then turns away and leaves. Shannon sees what's going on and scurries away.

Troy sighs and then looks at a large balled black man. "What the hell are you looking at?"

The crowd disperses leaving Troy standing there alone. The sounds leave as quietness sets in.

A whoosh!

Suddenly Troy's hand jerks up and snatches a fast moving guard's batten. The crack of the wood slaps against Troy's palm. Troy stands firm looking at the emptiness ahead of him, his arm up to the side stopping the blow from the guard behind him. He pauses as if nothing happened.

Porky, 46, the guard with a name for being a pig of a man, glares at the back of Troy's head. "You've still got it Troy. You may need it. Looks like you might have to watch your back."

Troy lets go of the batten and turns to the guard. "It's not my back that should be watched, Porky."

Troy storms off leaving the guard stewing in his own anger.

Later, Troy is in the infirmary with Mick, who prepares a needle and jabs it into his arm to give him an injection. Shannon peers through the door at them with a shy gaze. "Hey Baby, Warden wants to see you again."

Troy stands and lowers his shirt sleeve, turning to face Mick. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Mick nods. "Same bat time, same bat place."

Troy smiles and leaves as Porky spies on them from a distance.

As Troy stands at the door to the Warden's office, he pauses, frustrated. He builds up the courage to knock on the door.

A small voice comes through like a midget man. "Come on in Troy."

The midget voice doesn't suit the tall lanky warden with his cigar smoke flooding the room. Baker is a 60 year old weasel who doesn't look very well but he has a smile from ear to ear. His unhealthy state gives him the look of a zombie with sunken eyes and white skin. He saunters over to Troy and hands him an envelope. "Two grand."

Troy snatches the envelope and thumbs through the money, annoyed. "Where's the rest?"

Baker's face sours. "We had a problem. They mainly wanted the heart but we managed to sell the lungs and liver ok. The thing is, the kidney deal fell through. We can't pay you if we don't get paid."

Troy looks at the money. "You said this was only temporary."

Baker smiles. "You want to stay the top dog? I suggest you follow orders. I don't want to have to find someone to do your job. Besides, they are all filth. It's not like we are harvesting your innocent daughter... How is Rachael anyway?"

Troy just stands there. Baker taps him on the shoulder, leading him out the door. "Don't worry Troy. I promise I'll look after you."

"That's what you said last time."

"Relax."

Troy looks down the hallway to see Porky happily chatting away on a mobile phone.

Lips lock in Troy's cell with the slurp of lustful slobber. Suddenly, Troy jerks, ready to kill as he stops, looking straight at Baker.

Baker smiles and holds out a piece of paper. Troy looks at him with disdain.

Baker leans in close to whisper. "There is a bonus in it for you this time. I might let you be a free man to spend all the time you want with your little baby girl."

Troy's eyes dart with uncertainty. Hope, worry, suspicion.

Baker looks at Shannon and winks with a smile. Shannon looks at him curiously, as he leaves.

Troy opens up the paper to see the worst words he could ever see. He's holding the kill order of the person he loves — Shannon.

He looks up at Shannon with a tormented gaze. Shannon is looking away, watching Baker leaving.

As Shannon turns around, Troy suppresses his torment and holds a half smile. Shannon sees the paper. "Who is it this time?"

Troy looks down at the paper. "Just another poor bastard."

Troy stands. "I'll be back soon."

Troy heads out along the walkway. On the way, he passes Porky who leads three FBI agents. Kowalewski, 39, the head FBI agent, glares straight at Troy with hate filled eyes.

Troy races forward and catches up with Baker. "Hey Baker!"

Baker stops and turns around. "What?"

"You come in here and insult me like this? How dare you? You've gotta be stupid to think I'm gonna go through with it."

Baker grabs him and pulls him to the side. Baker glances around to make sure no one is listening in. He whispers. "This deal is the biggest we've had. This is worth ten times what the last ten brought in."

"Call life—line. Tell someone who cares."

Baker sighs. "I thought this could be a problem so... I got some insurance."

Troy's eyes spark with worried curiosity.

Baker smiles. "Did you know Rachael has been planning a party for the inmates. You know, they have urges that need to be met."

"You bastard, you leave her out of this!"

Baker stands seriously. "Your daughter or your Fag. Who dies? And who do you spend the rest of your life with?"

Torment sets in. Baker comfortingly pats him on the shoulder. "It's ok. I know it's hard but I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. You understand."

Baker smiles and then compassionately leads Troy back towards the cell, whistling a happy tune.

Up near the cell, they see Kowalewski coming out of the cell holding a bag of stuff. Baker is suspicious. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Kowalewski smiles. "My job. What the hell are you doing here?"

Baker looks between him and the cell. He races forward to look inside.

Troy sees the stuff in the bag belongs to Shannon. "What the hell are you doing with Shannon's stuff?"

He looks inside his cell and Shannon is gone. Instantly, Troy charges Kowalewski. "What the hell have you done with Shannon you fuck?!"

With blistering speed, and a flurry of blocked Kung Fu blows, Kowalewski overcomes Troy's wild rage filled swings and grabs Troy's arm. Kowalewski bends him over the rail ready to push him over the edge to a two storey fall. "I'm sorry sir, but if you would like to complain about the FBI's handling of this situation, please fill out a Section C — 21A complaint form at the T18 center for institution review initiatives."

Baker steps up close. "You bring Shannon back here this instant."

"I'm sorry Warden, but we have reason to believe that Shannon's life is in danger. He will be held in the infirmary overnight before he is shipped over to the other prison where we know he will be safe."

"You can't do this. This is my prison, My rules, My prisoners."

"Not any more."

The agent throws Troy to the ground. "Have a nice day."

He walks away with Shannon's stuff.

Troy clambers to his feet, rubbing his arm. "Ok Baker, tell me what we're supposed to do now?"

"We? Ha... This is your job. You handle it. Because you really don't want me to take action."

Baker storms away. Troy palms the cell bars hard and the jar rings out breaking the silence through the prison. He looks across to see Porky who smiles at him.

Peter sits in his church, sorting papers. Troy enters and Peter sees him. "What do you want?"

"Peter I need your help."

"Get real. As if I —"

"I have a plan to stop it all but I need your help. Are you willing to listen?"

Peter thinks, then reluctantly nods.

Troy half smiles. "Get the guys together."

Troy leaves. Peter gulps.

In a back store room. Troy walks in to see, Peter in his priestly pose, George, gracefully sitting quietly in the corner, and Buber standing with his arms crossed. Buber spots him. "Where's your bitch now?"

Peter steps forward. "Shut the fuck up Buber and sit the fuck down."
Buber sits at a crate made into a make—shift table, as Peter pulls up an upside—down bin for Troy to sit on.

They all make themselves comfortable around the crate.

Peter glares at Troy. "Talk."

Troy leans in. "The warden has... a job."

Peter shakes his head in disgust.

Troy notices. "Look he said it will make them a fortune. That means they will have enough money to forget about doing any more jobs."

Peter scoffs. "As if they will ever have enough."

"He said he would let me go free to see my daughter."

"And you believed him?"

"We've got no choice!"

They all sit quietly.

George gulps. "So if we do this, we have a good chance of being free?"

"I'm sure of it. No more harvesting."

Buber crosses his arms. "How can you be so sure?"

Troy pauses, "Because there is no way he would want to screw with me on this one. He's not stupid."

Buber looks confused. "What do you mean, this one? Who's the target?"

Troy takes a deep breath and sighs.

George's quiet voice breaks the silence. "Shannon."

Peter's angry glare fades. Buber gulps, uncrosses his arms and rubs his legs. George just looks down.

Troy grits his teeth holding back his emotions. "Problem is, the feds have him in the infirmary overnight. Somehow they got tipped off."

Peter tilts his head. "Baker threatened Rachael right?"

Buber straightens up. "Nar that can't be right. Baker wouldn't be that stupid. It would be war."

George looks at Buber. "Then he must be serious. He'd never play that card if it wasn't serious."

Peter's eyes dart in torment. "Oh Jesus."

Troy forces his composure. "So we're doing this shit?"

Buber glances at him and reluctantly nods.

Troy looks at George, who looks up from the crate. "I'm here for you Troy."

Troy forces himself to look at Peter.

With a panicked gaze, Peter calms himself. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends... Oh God forgive us."

Troy sighs. "Feds have him in the infirmary. I'll go in and —"

Buber butts in. "No way. You've never killed anyone in your life and I'll be damned if I let you you step into this nightmare now... I'll do it easy."

Troy thinks. "But... how are we going to get you in there?"

Everyone looks at Buber. He gulps in dread.

Crack! Blood splatters from Buber's jaw as it jerks to the side. Peter winces as Troy holds his garden gloved fist up. Another blow has Buber dizzy. Troy pauses. "More?"

Buber spits blood and talks funny due to his fat lips. "I'm still standing aren't I?"

Peter turns away as he hears the thump, thump, thump!

Mick stands at the infirmary door, face to face with Kowalewski. "Fuck you you piece of shit pussy! This is my fucking center!"

Kowalewski smiles. "Not any more it's not."

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"I'm sure there is some bum chum around here who can satisfy you."

Fury burns in Mick's eyes as he clenches his fist. Suddenly, Pete's voice breaks his rage. "Mick! Help me with this guy!"

Mick turns to see Peter struggling to carry the bludgeoned mess called, Buber. "Oh Jesus, what the hell happened?"

Mick helps Peter as Peter makes his way toward Kowalewski's barricade. "Crazy bastard didn't bend over for the Aryans. It's a wonder he's still alive."

Buber's blood soaks into Peter's ministry collar and priest's clothing. Mick looks him over. "Oh Jesus he's hemorrhaging. I've gotta get him inside."

Kowalewski smiles as they move closer and stop just in front of him. Mick looks confused as Kowalewski doesn't budge. "You can't be serious."

Mick looks at Buber and then back at Kowalewski. "Look at him! If you don't let him in, he's gonna die!"

Mick roars in anger as he lays Buber down and starts checking him over. Peter looks at Buber and then at the infirmary. He glances between the two, gulping anxiously. "Sir in the name of God the father, I pray that you have mercy."

"Beat it Rev."

Peter's rage builds. He pushes his way forward. Kowalewski's smile leaves.

With brutal force, Kowalewski grabs Peter and swings him around, face first into the concrete wall Crunch! Peter staggers back, dazed, he clutches his face as blood pours from his nose. Kowalewski resumes his barricade composure and his smile as Peter stumbles against the wall and slides down to sit.

Mick races over to Peter's side. "Christ! Are you ok?"

Peter sways, "We failed. Oh God it's never gonna end."

"Hey snap out of it. I need your help."

Peter looks at Mick and nods.

Troy sits at the crate, elbows supporting him as his hands cup his face. George looks across to see Peter covered in blood and Mick carrying Buber who is semi—conscious. Buber's mumbled words grab ooze out. "How did you guys screw this up?"

Troy looks up to see them. "What happened?"

Mick saunters close. "Fucking Feds."

They help Buber to sit as they all take a break from the struggles. Pete wipes his face.

Troy stands. "I'll see what I can do."

Bang bang bang! Troy bashes on the Warden's door. "Baker answer me you fuck!"

The door jerks open. Baker's furious face answers. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"You've gotta get us in."

Baker grabs him and pulls him inside, shutting the door. He angrily whispers. "You don't get to bark order to me punk!"

"You want us in there. Make it happen."

Baker sighs. "I can't. Fucking feds have it locked down. Cunts have permission to shoot me if I stand in their way."

Troy stumbles back. "We're fucked."

He collapses in the corner. Baker leans down close. "You're fucked. You're gonna hate yourself forever."

Torment wells in Troy.

Baker sees the torment. "Unless..."

Troy pauses, looking at Baker. Baker continues. "I've got a loop hole."

Baker races over to the phone and dials. "Director Robert Mueller... Yeah tell him his men are about to break your fair treatment act and I'll bring down a shit storm of press if I don't... Yes thank you."

Baker turns to Troy. "You've got an injection appointment."

At the infirmary, Kowalewski chuckles with Porky.

Mick and Troy saunter towards the door like normal.

Porky notices them and shuffles away to the side. Kowalewski stands with his arms crossed. "You guys never learn."

Mick stops in disbelief. "No way. You're gonna stop this guy from getting his Insulin injection?"

Kowalewski smiles. "You can't do this. He'll die."

"Did the other punk die?"

Mick swallows, jarred. "No but you were damn lucky I could save him."

"Well I'm sure you can find somewhere else to —"

He instantly pauses and puts his finger to his ear piece. "Yes Sir."

Kowalewski's gaze sours into rage. "No fucking way... But I.... But that's just fucking paperwork shit!... Yes Sir."

Kowalewski looks up at him. "This is bullshit... Five minutes."

He turns to Porky. "Porky! Get in there and watch them. They do anything strange, beat the fuck out of them."

Porky gulps. He saunters in close to Kowalewski's ear. He whispers. "How about I stand guard?"

Kowalewski opens the door and pushes Porky inside. "I follow orders."

He reluctantly stands to the side and lets them through. Mick smiles at Kowalewski. "You're just a pawn."

Kowalewski glares with anger.

Inside, Mick rushes to set up the needle, pulling the plunger back to suck up the fluid from the bottle. Porky stands back with his batten, ready to strike. Troy prepares himself on the table. "Made a new friend, huh Porky?"

"I don't have any friends."

"Looks like you're pretty close to him. You think Baker would be happy that you squealed to the feds?"

Mick squirts the needle. Porky stands quiet. Troy smiles. "Do you sleep well Porky?"

Mick hands the needle to Troy. "Hold this."

Troy looks at Porky. "Well?"

"I sleep like a —"

Suddenly, Troy darts up, catching Porky off guard. Porky's eyes widen as he swings the batten. Troy's left arm blocks the blow as he gracefully injects the fluid into Porky's neck. Troy smiles. "Like a baby?"

Porky collapses onto the ground.

Kowalewski hears a thud. Curiosity kicks in. He turns to look at the door.

Troy charges toward the other infirmary rooms.

As he bursts through, he sees the other two agents guarding Shannon who's hand—cuffed.

Instantly, the two agents turn to face Troy. "Who let you in —"

Smack! Troy viciously punches out the first agent, cold. The second launches into an attack of punches and maneuvers which Troy counters with accurate precision.

The agent, with his arms restrained, goes to sweep Troy's leg. But Troy smiles and lifts his leg, balancing with his elbow pressing against the agent's temple. Like a tree falling, they tilt back. The agent's eyes show the dread of knowing Troy's elbow is about to drive into the side of his head as they hit the ground.

Crack! Troy stands, with the two agents out cold at his feet.

Shannon stands and smiles. "I knew you'd come."

Shannon's gaze sinks into dread. "Watch out!"

Kowalewski's round house kick swings as Troy ducks. The whoosh of air over his head flutters his hair like a flag in a hurricane.

Instantly, they roar into a dance of punches, blocks and kicks with a blur of action. Kowalewski punches Troy back against the wall where he hits solid. He sidesteps as Kowalewski punches the wall. Crunch. His knuckles break.

Kowalewski winces in pain as he staggers back. Troy smiles.

Another flurry of punches and kicks and every now and again, Troy lands a swift punch into Kowalewski's head. Smack smack smack!

Kowalewski leans over away from Troy, blood drips onto the floor next to a small steel bin.

Troy prepares himself, gripping his fist. "I bet you wish I was angry this time."

Suddenly, a swift blur from Kowalewski has the bin swinging at his head. Troy stands still, calm.

Troy snatches the bin and ballerina—like, pivots with the bin. Kowalewski finishes his turn and stops to see Troy spinning. Crunch!

Kowalewski hurtles through the air and lands on the ground, sliding to a halt like a rag doll.

Troy stops his turn and looks up to see sluggish Porky pointing a hand gun at him. Bang!

Troy stumbles back. Shannon's eyes fill with shock. Troy holds his stomach, as blood trickles out of the gunshot wound.

Porky steps close to Troy, pointing the gun at his head. "You should have watched your back."

Crunch! Porky's head jerks to the side as he pulls the trigger. Bang!

Shannon follows through, viciously swinging the steel bin. Porky falls to the ground as Shannon goes into a vicious rage with the bin, caving Porky's head in. Blood splatters as he pants with rage, exhausted. Suddenly, Troy grabs the bin, stopping Shannon from bludgeoning the mess on the floor into a pulp.

Shannon pauses and hugs Troy. "Oh God are you ok?"

Troy sighs, tormented. "I'll be ok."

Shannon pulls back to look Troy in the eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Baker. I couldn't help myself. He... he threatened to hand Rachael over to the inmates."

"Jesus. The bastard. Another job?"

"Yeah."

Shannon glances down at the feds on the floor. "So who's the target?"

Shannon waits for an answer. He turns around to see Troy, tormented. Troy leans in to kiss Shannon. As their lips meet, a tear escapes Troy's eye. Shannon fills with the ecstasy of the kiss.

Bang! A gunshot.

Troy pauses, still kissing. His tear runs down past his nose as a drop of blood drips from Shannon's nose, mixing with the wetness of Troy's tear. They become one as more blood starts running down over their lips.

Slowly, Shannon's lips pull lower and slip away breaking the kiss. With the peace of a sleeping baby, he slides down. Troy lays him down like a baby into a cot. His tears run down and wash away some of the blood as he gazes down at Shannon.

Thump! The door bursts open. Mick stands there gazing at the mess before them. "Oh Jesus."

Troy stands with the gun in his hand. His fingers loose. The blood covered gun has a drop of blood building at the end of the barrel. It swells and lets go as the gun falls with the drop of blood.

The clunk of the gun hitting the ground is all that is heard.

A month later, Troy has a cold tormented gaze. He saunters out near the exit of the prison. Peter, Buber, George, and Mick, all gently hug Troy in turn.

Baker stands there watching with a pissed off gaze.

Troy finishes the sad hug goodbye to Peter and the glares at Baker. "You're a cunt."

Troy turns and heads toward the gate which is opened for him. He steps outside and in front of him is a woman. She's holding the hand of Rachael.

A tormented smile sprawls on Troy's face as he scurries over to hug her with a love that extends beyond the reaches of the universe.

As they all watch Troy and share a half smile, Baker obscures their view. "So who's taking over?"

He looks at Peter, Peter looks at Buber, Buber looks at George. George pauses and then gazes at Baker. Baker smiles. "Well well it's the wise man.

Baker holds out his hand. George holds out his palm to receive. Baker drops a piece of paper into George's hand. George opens it and reads an inmate's name. Dread sets in.

Baker gives an evilly stern gaze. "I hope you're as wise as they say you are."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A corrupt prison is using it as a farm for black market organ harvesting. They get an order, find out who is compatible, and then have them killed. When the leader of the hit squad is told he has to kill his homosexual boyfriend for the next body part, or have his kidnapped daughter raped and killed by the convicts, he chooses to go through the mission. The problem is, his boyfriend is protected by a group of goody goody prison guards from the other prison."

The Crime Genre is quite interesting in that it takes a crime world and shows you the inside of it. It's the world of organized crime, Mafia, gang warfare.

Heist movies sort of fit this world too but Heist movies are somewhat a genre of their own very much like Zombie movies. Still the heist genre is looking into the inside of a crime. But usually they make this a fun cool event which somewhat sets them apart.

Detective films are somewhat mixed with the crime genre since the detective often will look into the dark side of a crime, and the story is about the crime. But Detective stories are different in that they are a puzzle to be worked out by the detective.

And so crime genre is one I felt I had to write into the book.

You would have noticed my somewhat disturbing use of words to make the murder of his lover a beautiful loving event. This is the power of words. Death can be beautiful, a birth can be described as a grotesque horror. A kiss can be spun into one of the most terrifying on the edge of your seat events you have ever read.

It's all about how you want the reader to experience your writing. You'll see this in my next story where the hero is what most people would call a monster. The poor things. I hope you enjoy the war genre: Mer.

Concept: When the humans test nuclear weapons in the ocean, it's a direct act of war on the deep ocean mermaids and mermen, so war it is.

Contents

MER

The pristine ocean island beams with beauty and life. It's more than heaven.

Suddenly, a large swirl in the water swishes like the presence of a huge fish. A splash erupts from the water's edge like a grenade.

Bursting from the crashing wave are a Merman and a Mermaid with piranha—like teeth, gills, webbed and clawed hands and feet. Their military uniforms are slick silk—like woven threads colored seaweed green. They acrobatically hurtle through the air and land on the beach.

Tealar, 28, a young gorgeous ambitious cadet, chuckles with a watery laugh showing the fun she is having.

Kron, 40s, stands cold and firm. His aura is that of a powerful presence.

Tealar calms as she says with her watery voice, "That was awesome!"

Kron snaps, "No! That is serious!"

Tealar straightens up real quick. "Man you've gotta loosen up and have some fun."

"I'll smile when I'm dead. Next week you can screw around with your new trainer as much as you want but now you're going to do exactly what I say. Now get in position for a darting run."

Tealar stands with a fighting stance, "Fine. But you shouldn't quit just because of those pricks."

"Why should I work for idiots who never listen to what I have to say?"

Tealar pauses, looking at Kron's conviction. They both stand in their attack positions.

At that instant, they dart up the beach, jerking from side to side. Sand hurtles into the air with each vicious turn. Up at the palm trees, Tealar slashes into a tree with her claws tearing the bark open. Kron darts up a split second later and slashes another tree. He then looks across to see Tealar leaning against the tree calmly. "I beat you."

"I was watching your progress. Don't get too cocky. It'll get you killed."

"Nothing can hurt me. I'm faster than the speed of light."

Suddenly, there's a flash as bright as the sun. In the extreme distance, the light starts to fade. Tealar and Kron cover their eyes from the blinding light as they try to see.

The light fades as a rumble builds, with a burst of wind and a boom of rumbling sound. Trying to keep balance, they shake slightly. Then the mushroom cloud is seen hundreds of kilometers away. Kron gulps. "Training's over."

In the ocean depths, Kron and Tealar swim down toward a cave entrance.

Coming out is a young assistant swimming with exceptional speed, is Dayton, 38, Kron's younger brother. Kron notices him and calls out. "Dayton!"

Dayton changes course and darts up toward them. "Hey Brother, I'm a little busy."

"What's going on?"

"It's a massacre. I've gotta go organize more supplies for Livia. Looks like running the family business came in handy after all."

Kron holds Dayton's shoulder. "It's good to see you're alright."

Dayton shies away. "I've gotta go."

He darts off through the water super fast, leaving them behind.

Kron and Tealar head for the cave. Tealar looks at Kron. "You should spend more time with him. Family needs to stick together."

Kron shoots a glare at Tealar. They keep swimming.

Inside, the hospital room is like the inside of a huge clam shell. Lying on the mother of pearl floor are hundreds of mermaids, mermen, and merchildren. Some are resting on mother of pearl beds which are draped in seaweed green sheets. They cough and blood wafts from their mouths. Their ears bleed. Some have half of their bodies badly burnt, others are blinded.

Jellyfish—like machines are hooked up to the patients. Seaweed like bandages are as perfectly woven as hospital dressings. Bioluminescent display screens are housed in mother of pearl casings. They are a highly advanced race bordering on the levels of humans.

A mermaid nurse, Livia, 36, dressed in a cloak—like seaweed green garment, swims up with a touch screen bioluminescent display, frantically searching through data. "You got the supplies?"

She looks up at Kron seeing his slick military uniform. "What are you doing here?"

Kron wades over. "We are here to help —"

Livia snaps with impatience. "Get out of here, you are holding me up —"

Tealar butts in. "We saw the blast."

Livia looks at them curiously.

"You saw the second attack. The other hit the Western Canyons."

Kron breaks the pause. "What happened to them?"

Livia goes back to her touch screen. "The shock wave passes through the body and jellifies the internal organs. Only about twenty percent of the population in the blast zone survive the radiation sickness it brings. That's if they survived the initial blast. The land—dwellers are trying to wipe us out. And if you saw the blast, you saw more than any of us. The Pod—Leader will want to see you so you better get going. Tell them to send more supplies."

Livia turns and swims away. Tealar turns to Kron. "Maybe they'll listen to you now?"

The two of them swim away. Tealar looks back at the victims, visibly moved.

Kron leads Tealar through the mother of pearl hallway. They swim past other frantic workers as they head into the Pod—Leader's office.

Inside, the Pod—Leader, Trilith, 63, is watching a bioluminescent display of the humans' TV News Program about the nuclear tests.

Kron coughs to grab attention. "Sir, Sector 3A Medical Bay needs more supplies."

Brillith looks up at them. "I understand you saw the weapon."

"Yes sir."

"We can't allow them to decimate us any longer. You two are required to go to their leader to warn them that if they do not cease hostilities, we will retaliate. Got it?"

"But Sir, we aren't qualified to negotiate."

"Then find someone who is. You leave in an hour."

"But sir —"

"Dismissed."

Brillith turns back to the screen. Kron angrily turns and leaves. Tealar looks at Brillith then follows Kron. Outside, she swims up next to him. "So who's gonna be your negotiator?"

At the medical bay, Dayton is calming a dispute between a military officer and Livia. "He has a point. We need our soldiers Livia. And we are getting all the supplies we can. I know it's hard but we have to do the best we can with what we've got."

He turns to the officer. "Sir you have to sort your priorities. It's not right, I know, but some men are just too far gone. It's more practical to train new troops and you know it. In that sense, you can spare essential supplies to help Livia. Right?"

"Fine."

Dayton looks at Livia. She relaxes her stance. "I understand."

Kron swims up and interrupts as the officer swims off. Tealar stops just behind as Kron hands Livia a seaweed green material bag full of supplies. "All I could get at short notice."

"Thanks."

She swims away.

Dayton sorts through a touchscreen bioluminescent display. Kron grabs him and turns him to face him. "Dayton get ready to leave. You've got thirty minutes."

"But I'm needed here —"

"Someone else can do that. This mission is... it's much more important."

"But I —"

"No buts. Orders are orders so just get ready ok?"

Dayton sours at being bossed around. Kron notices the spiteful gaze. "Look I don't want to go either. I don't want to take you but there is no negotiator I trust as much as you ok?"

"So what do you need me to negotiate?"

Kron's eyes dart anxiously. "The surrender of the human race."

As Dayton's eyes widen, stunned, Kron reluctantly swims off. Tealar stays with Dayton. "I'll help you get ready."

Hollywood. It's magic hour in the final light of the day. A woman lies on the beach as a shadowy figure approaches. She looks at the figure and terror splashes over her face. She screams!

"Cut!"

The Director walks forward to the girl. He smiles. "Beautiful Jill, but can you slow it up a bit. Build up toward the scream in increments. Curious, uncomfortable, worried, anxiety attack, terror, scream! But a slow transition. Got it?"

She smiles. "Yep."

"Ok, lights, camera, ready?"

The Clacker—man gets into position. "Dead Sea, Scene 23, Take 3."

He slams the clacker shut. The Director yells, "Action."

She lays on the beach. Swirls start in the water in the background. A splash. Everyone looks. Suddenly, Kron, Tealar, and Dayton stand and the water splashes down revealing the three.

The Director whispers to the Clacker—man. "This wasn't in the script."

"You know how the Producer is, go with it."

The characters start screaming as people standing around step closer to the scene for a better look. Kron, Tealar and Dayton walk up and the actors run away.

The Producer steps out of his trailer and approaches the camera. He sees the creatures, and drops his donut next to the Director.

Kron, Tealar and Dayton walk to the camera, looking at it curiously. Kron stares coldly. "Take us to your leader."

"Cut!"

The Director pouts, "That's it, I can't work with this joke of a production. What sort of a cliché line is that?"

Tealar and Dayton look at each other then back at the Director.

The Director continues, "Fine, get off my set. I refuse to put up with amateurs."

Kron steps closer to the Director. "Who is your leader?"

The Director vigorously grabs Tealar and pulls her toward the top of the beach. Kron's rage builds as his vicious piranha teeth show. The Director sees the Producer pissing his pants. The Director looks back as Kron viciously attacks the Director tearing his face off.

As the humans all run away in fear, and carnage prevails, police officers are drawn to the commotion. Tealar grabs Kron's arm and pulls him to face her. "I could have handled it."

"It doesn't matter who handles it. It matters that it gets handled."

The cops point their Tasers at the three. "Freeze!"

Kron turns to face them with fury in his eyes. As the three step toward the cops, the Tasers fire. The three collapse on the ground, jolting in agony.

Blackness. Through the blur of eyes opening, a light above comes slightly into focus.

A jerk of alertness yanks the straps against Kron's wrists. He investigates and realizes he's restrained on a trolley in a medical science research facility. Tealar and Dayton are beside him, both strapped down and unconscious. "Tealar!"

She startles awake. So does Dayton. Tealar looks at Kron. "What happened?"

A voice comes over a loud speaker. "You made a big mistake."

Suddenly, a door slides open. In walks Mr Cortly, 53, a mad scientist praised for the mad work he does for the government. He steps up close to Kron. "Nice of you to join us."

"Release them and take us to your leader."

Cortly scoffs. "You're not going anywhere. But you will see our president soon enough. He wants to come and see what makes you tick."

Cortly walks up to Tealar and admires her like some sadistic freak. He then grabs her trolley. "We'll start with you my dear."

Cortly wheels her out of the room. Kron struggles to break free. Soon he hears Tealar's screams of agony. Kron's rage roars. "Leave her alone!"

Alone, Kron struggles to pull his arms free. He tries to reach the straps with his mouth. Vicious jerking in a rage. Nothing works.

Kron tormented, gives up trying to escape.

Suddenly, the door bursts open to reveal George, 63, the president. "What the hell is this? I'm missing my manicure."

Cortly trundles in behind the president who glances around to lock eyes on Kron who snarls in anger. Suddenly, Kron roars and struggles to break free. George steps back. Kron jerks toward Cortly. "Your leader will punish you for your crimes."

George calms curious. "I'll do no such thing."

"You are the leader?"

"Yes I am. What are you doing here?"

Kron struggles to look across to Dayton who looks at the president. Dayton sighs. "Sir I'm sure we can come to some agreement where everyone is happy. Unfortunately, we have been ordered to come to tell you that if you do not cease hostilities, our Pod—Leader said he will retaliate. "

George approaches Dayton. "What Hostilities?"

"The explosions out at sea."

"And you think you can stop me?"

"We are a peaceful species Sir. We really don't want to but unfortunately, if you attack again, we will have no choice but to use force."

"We have the most advance weapons ever devised. You have none. You think you can threaten me? What will you do?"

Dayton pleads, "Sir there must be some way we can work together to avoid war and bloodshed.

George watches Dayton refusing to take the warpath bait. "I'll have you three dissected."

He turns to Cortly. "Cut them up and send me the results."

He leaves.

Cortly probes them, curiously in several ways. As Cortly finishes probing Kron, Kron goes limp and peers out the door and through a window. In the distance, he sees the president getting on board the presidential helicopter. Hatred burns in Kron's eyes.

Later, Kron is bloody and hurt. Cortly wheels in Dayton, showing visible evidence of torture. Tealar is wheeled in too.

Cortly steps up to them holding a scalpel. "Time to see what you aliens are made of."

Instantly, Cortly starts cutting up Dayton's chest. Dayton screams in agony. Kron goes ape and struggles. "Dayton! No, you bastard! Let him go!"

Tealar is beside Kron, frozen in shock and terrified. As Kron struggles more, his trolley bounces over closer to Tealar. "You're dead you freak!"

Kron struggles, getting close to the strap on Tealar's wrists. He notices he is close to her strap and forces himself more that way. Dayton's scream turn into a gargle as Cortly's blood covered hands work sadistically. Cortly whistles as he works. Kron's eyes widen in dread. "No!"

Kron shuffles the trolley over and slashes the strap with his claw. Tealar doesn't move. He yells, military style, "Tealar!"

She turns her head to look at him. He says sternly, "Make him pay."

He glances down at her wrist. She follows his gaze to her free hand. Instantly, rage builds in her.

Cortly cuts away merrily as he hears a huge clunking noise from the trolley behind him. He stops and turns around curiously. Tealar stands behind him and shows her rage filled teeth. With a whipping sound, she charges forward and blood sprays over the walls as Cortly's screams quickly fade.

Tealar pants, blood over her. She turns to Kron who struggles to get free of the straps and reach Dayton. Tealar slashes the straps and he leaps over, falling to the floor as he struggles to reach his brother. He frantically pulls himself up the trolley and grabs Dayton's shoulders, shaking him trying to wake him up. "Dayton. No..."

Tears well in his eyes.

Suddenly, two security men come in with Tasers. "Freeze!"

Kron and Tealar look around to see the two men. Instantly they dart around toward them. They fire the Tasers but miss, as claws slash them to bits. In the aftermath, Kron and Tealar grab Dayton and walk out of the building in amongst the wary human civilians.

In Brillith's office, Kron swipes Brillith's stuff off his pearl desk. "You're not listening to me. Their leader ordered them to kill Dayton. He wants a war!"

"I won't attack. Not yet."

"Did you hear me? They don't care about us. They won't stop. If anything they will now attack even more. I told you this would happen and you refused to listen to me. Look what happened."

"I'm not going to start a war until I am absolutely sure. Maybe they will stop now after seeing what you two can do alone."

"They won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

BOOM! A shock wave roars through the hallway and punches the door open. It shudders through the room vigorously throwing them back. They grunt through the pain as they start to recover.

Suddenly, screams of wounded, echo through the water. An assistant struggles to swim through and passes out in front of the door. Brillith watches the blood oozing from the assistants ears.

Kron glares at Brillith who slumps in despair. "War it is."

Night and a Homeless man sleeps on a bench by the water's edge. The Ocean breeze blows his newspaper off him and as he wakes, he gets up and chases his paper blankets.

The paper is about to blow off the jetty into the ocean but he snatches the paper just in time. At that instant, something catches his eye in the water.

He leans in closer as he sees the fish strangely lined up parallel to the jetty. He leans in closer.

Suddenly, Kron's eyes flash open and his teeth viciously show. The Homeless man's eyes dart wide with terror. He struggles to rise but with a splash of water, he notices blood dripping into the water. Soon it turns into a torrent as the deep claw marks through his skull leak. He sways as he passes out and falls into the water.

A police officer drives his car slowly nearby and he hears a splash and shines his torch in that direction. It's all clear. He says to his partner, "Hear that?"

"Must be good fishing tonight huh?"

They both chuckle and continue idling along.

In the water, Kron pulls down the homeless man. He picks up a rock and smashes it against another rock. He looks into the distance along the huge line of troops. Much further up the line, another soldier hears the clack of the rock and smashes his rock against another. He then looks up the line toward the next thousand soldiers.

Kron slowly rises out of the water and clambers onto the jetty. Thousands more merman follow, either side. The cop sees the troops coming out of the water and slams on the brakes. He parks the car and bursts out the car door drawing his gun and pointing it straight at Kron. As Kron sees the weapon, instinct kicks in and he charges the cop. The officer fires. Bang bang bang! But Kron dodges the shots and slashes into the officer's throat.

As the gargling continues, Kron doesn't notice the other cop pointing his gun at the back of Kron's head. He starts pulling the trigger until vicious swipes have the cop twist and the gun fall to the side. As Kron spins around, startled, he sees the cop drop dead. Standing next to the corpse is Tealar with bloody claws. She smiles. "You owe me one."

Human screams are heard more and more, as the invasion moves in.

The president startles awake with a flurry of National Security Agents pouring into the room. One of them says, "Sir we have a situation. We suggest you evacuate to the military base immediately."

George nods as he grabs his stuff and goes with them.

With the battle well underway, houses ablaze, George boards his chopper and they take off. George is stunned and heartbroken by the sight of the carnage before him.

On the ground, Kron sees the chopper flying toward the military base on the edge of the river. "Their leader."

As Kron looks toward the base he notices large red flashes. Suddenly, the whistle of artillery introduces the barrage of explosions which wipe out many troops. "Damn. Seal squad 5, 6 and 7! On me!"

Hundreds of troops move in line behind him. Tealar steps up beside him. "I'm in."

The team swim upstream toward a military base in the distance. They climb out leading a mass of troops.

The base is alive with activity.

As they move in, machine guns open up. Tracer fire rips through the mermen stopping them dead in their tracks. Kron sees the situation and yells out, "Fall back!"

Zip. A spray of red, bursts from Kron's shoulder. He roars in pain as Tealar races to his aid. She helps him to the side, out of danger. "Jesus Kron you're hit."

"And?"

"You're not gonna—"

"They need me."

"Yeah back at head quarters."

"We have to take the base. Otherwise they will regroup and dig in. It's now or never."

"Well I can't let you —"

"Well you can follow orders.

She pauses and glares at him.

Kron stands, not letting his wound stop him. "Don't worry. I've got a plan."

Kron and Tealar are around the side heading toward the back of the base. They see the military guarding the boundary.

Around the front where they retreated, a merman squad leader addresses the merman troops. "We have a choice here. I'm not about to stop you if you want to back out but we have to break through their defences. The future of our world is at stake and our people. No longer are we going to sit by and let their tyranny continue. Our lives for our children. Our lives for their future."

The troops roar with encouragement. The squad leader turns to face the base. "Dart hard! Charge!"

Suddenly, the hundreds of troops charge in. The human machine gunner opens fire on the mermen but his eyes widen in fear as he can't shoot the invaders fast enough. His fire mows down line after line of mermen but they just keep coming. "I need back up!"

Kron watches military guards guarding the base perimeter, as he hears the gunfire in the distance. Tealar watches, wondering what's going on. Soon, the military guards retreat from their posts and run to reinforce the front line.

Kron rises. "Let's go."

Inside the base, Kron charges in. He easily slashes through military men with the element of surprise. Tealar joins his rampage.

Kron sees the president being lead back past the ammunition warehouse toward a bunker. "Tealar I found him."

He looks around to see a man coming out from the warehouse who is about to pull a grenade and throw it at Tealar. He races forward with rage as the man pulls the pin out and holds his arm up to throw it. "Tealar, take cover!"

Kron dives toward him as the man throws the grenade. Kron slashes into the man. Tealar sees the grenade tumble to a stop beside her.

Kron finishes killing the man and looks sideways. Boom! The grenade explodes.

Dread washes over his face. "NO!!!!"

As he watches, military men pour into the court yard and start firing at him. He retreats darting back and forth dodging the numerous shots as he backs into the warehouse. The shooting stops. He hides, sobbing. Military men start swarming into the warehouse searching for him. He backs into a corner.

He notices the explosives everywhere. A cold gaze washes over his face as he grabs a grenade and pulls the pin. "One for the many."

Military men charge in to see Kron holding the grenade. They pause in fear. Kron smiles. "Greetings."

Boom! The explosion rips through the base wiping out the machine gunners who are wiping out the mermen. As the blast wave blows them back, they rise to see the carnage. The mermen cheer with success. They then freely charge into the base.

President George cowers under a table in a bunker. Three men guard the door. Suddenly, it bursts open and numerous mermen rush in. Gun fire drops a few but the claws swipe, spraying their blood over the walls.

As a merman terrifyingly approaches the cowering president, he wets his pants. The merman brandishes his claws directly toward George's face. Tealar calls out. "No!"

The merman stops and looks back at Tealar standing in the doorway, wounded but strong enough to walk in and give orders.

Tealar looks under the table. "Remember me?"

With George tied up, Tealar receives medical treatment. Brillith comes through the door. He sees Tealar and the president. He charges over to the president and viciously grabs him.

George sobs. "I'm so sorry. Please I had no idea. I swear I'll do anything."

Brillith looks back at Tealar who sighs and looks away. Brillith relaxes his grip. He pushes George back. He then stands really close and shows his vicious teeth. "For millennia we have left you alone in peace. What you have seen here is just a taste of what we can do. Never have I been so tempted to wipe out the human race. Next time, I won't hesitate. You understand?"

George gulps. "Yes sir."

Outside, they push George through the destruction before him. As the mermen troops retreat into the water, Brillith glances around curiously searching. He turns to Tealar. "Where's Kron?"

She screws up her face as a tear trickles down her face. She turns and dives into the water.

Brillith turns to George. "I'll keep in touch."

The Pod—Leader dives into the water leaving George to ponder his new world.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A mermaid but they have piranha like teeth, gills, webbed and clawed hands and feet, talks with evil whispers inviting his friend up to the island. They talk about army training and stuff but he wants some time off. On the island, having fun catching fish, they see a nuke go off. They send a messenger to tell the president to surrender but they kill the messenger and do an autopsy. The leader escapes though. They declare war on the humans where he will lead a team to take out the president."

Epic War is usually associated with historical battles in the past. "Troy, Saving Private Ryan, etc. I took the war genre and twisted it into a new story. I love that if humans want to massacre nature, nature just might strike back. We have no idea what lies at the bottom of our oceans in some places. And so I took that and worked in the mythological race of mermaids to be my warring race and the face of nature's wrath.

The reason why this works is through some empathy devices with I learnt from Michael Hauge. Jeopardy, undeserved misfortune, and likability. I put them in danger of dying, from an undeserved misfortune. The interesting thing is how this works. I have an opening scene of a Rambo Movie.

A rude, obnoxious, egotistical psychological tormenter, teases a little girl as a test for a way to tease an entire school of kids. She's crying and pleading for him to stop as Rambo is forced to watch. Rambo can't take it any more tears the guard's throats out. He then goes on a massacre of all the scumbag guards who want to protect this filthy scum—sucking pig. Rambo slaughters 5OO people and then gives the bastard a chance, only he tricks Rambo and is about to play the tape of teasing torment.

Little old ladies in the audience scream out to Rambo, "No don't let him go! Kill the bastard!" Rambo kills 5OO family men and we love him. Bastard makes a little girl cry and we want him dead. That's the screwed up reality of the human psyche, and the power of words. But I won't mess with this technique in the next genre — the Western: Howdy Partner.

Concept: When a whore enters his gun shop and pleads for help, the slow minded gunsmith is lured into a battle with her powerful husband.

Contents

HOWDY PARTNER

Over the dusty rugged floorboards in the old western house, on the rough wooden bench, a man's hands cut leather with a blade. A part of the leather won't cut so he pushes harder. The sharp blade slips and slices into his hand.

Tom, 37, the slow minded gunsmith with a heart of gold, is a big teddy bear with the fastest draw in the west. He winces and gently puts the blade down.

He reaches for a rag to bandage his hand. He then cuts the rest of the leather to the shape needed for a gun holster.

Stitching the leather, pushing the needle through the hard bit, the needle snaps and jabs his finger. You can see him swallow his anger.

He grabs a nail and a hammer and gently lines it up on the hard part. As he swings the hammer, hitting the nail, the hammer skips off to the side and hits him in the finger.

Instantly, he pulls his hand back and the leather falls to the ground. He swallows his rage deeper as he darts down to pick it up, smacking his head on the bench.

As he snaps with rage, his lightning quick hand draws his gun and shoots a hole clean through the hard part. He clams realizing he just flipped out.

Worriedly, he puts his gun away and apologetically reaches down to pick up the leather as if it were a wounded animal.

He cleans up as he waits but everything remains quiet.

Soon, he hears from outside, a woman's argumentative voice. "So you turned my husband into a scum sucking pig? You're the bastard who made my life a living hell? And you call me a manipulative filthy slurry scag? You have no friggin' idea!"

Tom looks out the window to see a prostitute, Mary, 27, a sneaky girl who wants to get everything she can out of her clients. Tom vaguely sees the silhouette of the man she is talking to, as the silhouette turns and walks away. She raises her fist and yells. "Yeah go on piss off you filthy dog!"

She glances in Tom's direction and he shies away, getting back to work.

Soon, he is holding the completed leather holster with it's signature bullet hole for the stitching. He puts this new gun belt on and picks up his gun. With eye blistering acrobatics, the gun spins in a gravity defying show, ending with a miraculous slot into the holster. He shuffles the gun, feeling it in place.

He hears mumbling outside the window. He looks out and sees her backing away from some thugs. "Look I know you've been looking for me and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. Will you guys pay me the right money if I make sure ya'll are happy? I swear I won't tell my husband and no one will ever know. Even if they did, no one would believe me over you guys... Please?"

One of the thugs starts to look in Tom's direction and Tom backs away unseen. He grabs the gun belt and walks over to a cabinet where there are many gun belts and gunsmith stock. The bullets section alone is awe inspiring. He starts sorting the shelves, places boxes neatly, and making sure everything looks neat.

Ding ding ding ding. The shop bell rings violently. He quick draws the gun at the door. He hears Mary's voice call out, "Hello! Please I need your help!"

With a generalized spin he places the gun back into its holster. He sheepishly steps out into the shop where he has many cabinets full of guns and rifles. "C—can I help you?"

Her eyes lock onto him as she smiles. "Sir I hope you can. I really need your help."

He shuffles in and starts pulling out guns from his counter, displaying them on the bench. "Well Ma'am, I have the new Smith and Western range here if you would like, but I'm not too good with selling guns to a girl."

"No you don't understand. There are men out there and they mean to kill little ol' me."

She reaches out and touches his hand. "Will you save me?"

As she grasps his hand, his anxiety level sky rockets. "M—Ma'am... Maybe you should please go?"

"But they will hurt me. You don't want to push me into danger now, do you?"

"B—but, y—you should... maybe call the Sheriff. Ah—I can't really help you with that Ma'am. I have a new Smith and Western if you would like to buy —"

Ding ding. The bell tolls. Mary spins around with terror on her face. Tom looks across to see the men coming in. He smiles. "Howdy Partner."

The leader, Hulk, 34 steps toward Tom with an aura of kick ass wafting off him like a thick stench. "Who says I'm your partner?"

"I was the one who said partner, Sir. Would you like some guns? I have the new Smith and Western."

Hulk steps up to Mary with a vengeance. "I've come to get what we paid for."

Tom looks at him curiously. "But you haven't paid me yet."

Mary looks back at Tom. "You know that you are one of the sweetest men I have ever met."

Hulk looks between Mary and Tom who is shyly blushing. Suddenly, Hulk pulls his hands up to his chest and starts laughing a huge belly laugh. The other three thugs join in. Tom's smile sours as the men make fun of him.

Mary snaps. "Leave him alone!"

Hulk stops laughing and the others soon follow. Hulk steps towards her. "It's not him you should be worried about."

His hand darts out and snatches her arm. "Get off me you bastard!"

She fights him. Tom steps closer as Hulk slaps her. Tom stops, being business—like. "Excuse me sir but could you please, maybe, leave."

"Beat it you Ingin turd."

Mary bites Hulk and he roars as he viciously strangles her. Her pleading eyes gaze at Tom. "He's going to kill me."

Tom grabs Hulk's shoulder and Hulk spins around and punches him back. Tom shakes it off and charges back at Hulk who pulls his gun and draws it up towards Tom. Bang!

Hulk sways and collapses as the thugs reach for their guns. Bang bang bang. Thud thud thud.

Mary stands there calm, with blood splatter over her face. Tom's gun wafts smoke. Hulk and the thugs, twitch on the floor.

Mary callously steps over the corpses. "Thank you for saving me."

"M—Ma'am... Maybe you should please go?"

She peers out the front window, then scampers out the back way. As she leaves, a wary old man steps up to the front door and peers through seeing the corpses. He scurries away.

Out the back, Mary sneaks up to a horse trough and splashes water over her face.

Out the front, Tom steps into the street and people warily watch him. As he walks, the sheriff comes from out of an alley way and walks up to the wary old man who stares at Tom. Tom watches them talking as the old man points at Tom. The sheriff looks.

Carefully, the Sheriff saunters towards him, hands out clear to show he means no harm. "Hey Tom, I heard them shots. These folk round here tell me it was your place where those guns went off. Is that correct?"

"Yes Sir."

Suddenly, Jerald, 43, an upstanding judge of the town, barges around the street corner and sees Tom. The Sheriff spots him and then turns back to look at Tom. "So what happened?

Jerald worriedly races up to Tom's shop window. He peers inside to see the corpses.

Tom pouts, guilt ridden. "I didn't mean it Sir."

Jerald ferociously spins around to face Tom. "You bloody cold blooded murderer. What the hell have you done with my wife you filth?!"

The Sheriff peers inside and sees the corpses. He then looks at Jerald. "You know these men?"

"They were the men I hired to watch my wife and this retard murdered them!"

Tom sees them looking at him. The Sheriff gulps. "Tom we don't want any trouble Son. Just put your gun down and come quietly and everything will be ok."

"I didn't murder them."

"Tom don't do nothing —"

Suddenly, Tom runs off. Jerald pulls his gun and the Sheriff grabs Jerald's arm stopping him from shooting at Tom. "What the hell are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?"

"He killed my men!"

"Look like you chose the wrong thugs to watch over your whore wife. I told you to hire the Thompson boys didn't I?"

"You know I couldn't afford the Thompson boys."

"With the money your wife has been making, I thought —"

Jerald grabs the Sheriff by the shirt. "I did what you said and now my wife is missing you bastard!"

The Sheriff sighs, calm. "Jerald, this isn't cleaning up my town. You're wife is a scavenging whore. She'll show her true colors soon enough. You mark my words."

The Sheriff grins. Jerald fires up and throws the Sheriff to the side. The Sheriff gains his balance and stands firm ready to draw his gun. He watches Jerald's hand hovering near his holster. Jerald backs his hand away from his gun. "You're lucky you got that badge Sheriff."

As Jerald storms away, Mary covertly watches from a distance. She then races off in the direction that Tom went. The Sheriff catches a glimpse of Mary running away.

Tom runs between some buildings and across a street. Mary glimpses him running and chases him.

Tom is hiding in the shadows behind some barrels. Mary sneaks around, searching for him. She sees his spur protruding from behind a barrel. She slowly walks up as she checks around searching for any signs of possible trouble but everyone has headed to Tom's place to sticky—beak.

As she steps in close, her foot grinds the gravel. Click. A trembling gun quivers in front of her eyes. The gun barrel still smells of smoke as she looks down at the tip of the bullet, ready to deliver its deadly cargo. "Tom it's me, Mary. It's ok."

Tom realizes and lowers the gun. His eyes dart apologetically. "I'm a bad man."

"No you are not. You are the best man I have ever known."

"But the Sheriff thinks I'm a bad man."

She leans down and gently strokes his hair like a mother would a child. "You don't know what a bad man is. Those men were bad men, like that man who called you a murder."

"That's judge Jerald. People like him."

"But they don't know him. See he is the real bad man. He sent those bad men to kill me. If he catches me, he will kill me and you too. You don't want him to kill me do you?"

"No Ma'am."

"Do you like puppy dogs?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well he likes to hurt puppy dogs all day and night and the puppy dogs cry until they can't cry anymore and when they stop crying, he eats them while they are still alive."

"No!"

"Yes and no one will stop him."

"No!"

"Do you think you could stop him and save all those puppy dogs?"

Tom thinks. "He's a really bad man."

"Do you want to save me?"

He sheepishly looks up at her as if with a shy loving crush on her. "I want to go home."

"Well you can go home and save the puppies and save me. We can all be happy. Would you like that?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well all you have to do is come with me and stop that bad man. Ok?"

Tom thinks and slowly speaks. "Ok."

Mary moves in closer and closer and kisses him gently on the cheek. He's a little shy. She then moves around with progressive kisses until she kisses him passionately on the lips. He's obviously a novice but he starts to enjoy the kiss. She smiles. "Let's go be heroes."

Outside Jerald's ranch, Mary motherly cuddles Tom in the bushes. She spots a horse galloping towards the ranch. Jerald pulls up on the horse and jumps off.

Mary points at Jerald and whispers to Tom. "There he is. The really bad man that kills puppies and who wants to kill me and you."

Tom watches.

Jerald quickly ties the horse and storms toward the house, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Mary where are you!"

Jerald storms inside, adjusting his gun belt, ready for trouble. "Mary!"

Mary nods at Tom. "You are my hero Tom. And I've loved you from the first time I ever met you. I love you Tom."

She kisses him again. "Do you love me?"

"You are beautiful."

"Tell me that you love me."

He feels uncomfortable.

She kisses him on the forehead. "It's ok. You can say you love me."

"I... I love... you."

She smiles. "See. Now we are boyfriend and girlfriend. And sometimes you have to shoot really bad men to save your girlfriend, just like you shot those bad men at your shop. I won't let anything bad happen to you ever ok?"

He's shy and a bit tormented. She lifts his chin. "Everything will be all good, Ok?"

He pauses. "Ok."

"Good. Now it's time to make the bad man go away so he won't hurt any more puppies."

They stand and she holds his hand. She leads him toward the house.

She peers through the window. She sees Jerald head down the hallway. Jerald calls out. "Mary where are you!"

She opens the door and nods at Tom. "You can do this for everyone. You are our hero."

She then pushes him inside.

He stumbles through. He gulps, gaining his balance. He gently grasps his gun as he wanders inside. In the kitchen, he bumps a chair and it makes a noise on the floor boards. His eyes widen in fear as he hears Jerald calling out. "Mary is that you?"

Tom draws his gun and aims it. He psyches himself up as Jerald steps through the door. Instantly, Jerald raises his arms. "Jesus!"

Tom stands firm. He shakes, trying to pull the trigger. He storms forward and still can't shoot. Jerald wets his pants. "Oh please God don't kill me."

"Don't call me God. My name is Tom."

"Oh God I'm so sorry."

"Stop calling me God!"

Jerald freezes. He gulps. "Sir please. I don't want to die."

"You're a bad man."

"I know. Please forgive me. I'll fix everything up and make everything better."

Tom pauses. Jerald sees his indecisiveness. "Do you know where my wife is?"

Tom sighs. "Why do you —"

Suddenly, Mary barges in. "Tom!"

Jerald's eyes widen in relief. "Mary I was so worried about you."

He glances between Mary and Tom. Mary walks up to Tom and whispers in his ear. "He's trying to trick you. Don't listen to him. He's a liar and he will kill you the first chance he gets."

"But I don't want to be a bad man."

Jerald butts in. "You don't have to be a bad man —"

Mary aggressively turns to Jerald. "Shut up Jerald! I'm handling this!"

She leans in close to Tom's ear. "You remember when he told lies to the Sheriff to get you in trouble. That proves he is a liar. Now shoot him before it's too late.

Tom grips the handle harder. Sweat beads on his forehead. His hand trembles. Jerald sheds tears.

Mary watches, her fury growing. "Now!"

Tom and Jerald jump in fright. Tom calms down and relaxes, lowering the gun down closer to his waist. "I didn't mean to kill your men Sir. They were going to hurt Mary and they drew their guns at me. I didn't mean it I swear."

Mary watches Tom backing down. She starts to panic. "Jerald Honey, you have to take this killer in."

Tom looks at her with confusion. Jerald gulps as his eyes glance down at his gun belt. Tom glances back at Jerald and sees him acting nervous. Tom puts his gun in his belt and the two look at each other cautiously preparing for a shoot out. Jerald gulps. Tom turns his head to the side.

Mary watches. "God Damn it Jerald. You always ignore everything I say and look where it gets you!"

Jerald's fingers twitch, loosening up ready to grab his gun. Tom sees and his face contorts with torment, but he stays ready to draw any second now.

Mary starts getting twitchy. "Jerald do it!"

"Shut up Mary!"

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up you prick! Not only do you tell me to stop making all that money but you get three men killed by hiring them to watch over me. You never bloody listen to me, now for once in your stupid life, do what I bloody say! Shoot him!"

Jerald squints at Tom. Tom's eyes plead to Jerald.

Jerald stops. "No."

Mary's shoulders drop in disbelief. Jerald raises his hands. "I don't want to fight you Tom. I believe you."

Tom smiles and relaxes.

Jerald looks at Mary as she feigns the loving relieved wife look. Jerald is confused as she races over to hug him. "Jerald I'm so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?"

Bang!

Everyone is shocked. All waiting to see what happened. Jerald pushes her away as she holds his gun in her hand. They look at Tom who staggers back. Red swells in his shirt shoulder.

Tom falls to the floor in shock. She races over to help. "Tom are you alright?!"

Tom's eyes waver, on the verge of passing out. She then grabs Tom's gun and aims at Jerald. "You never listened to me you asshole."

Jerald pauses stunned. "I'm listening now."

Bang bang bang! Jerald staggers back, three red swirls on his chest. He collapses, gargling blood.

As Jerald twitches, she walks up and puts his gun in his hand, watching as his last terror filled breath escapes him.

She then turns to Tom who is squirming on the floor. She has a cold evil gaze. "You pathetic loser. All you had to do was kill the bastard and I would have backed you up. But no, you had to be the bloody hero."

She snatches a pillow off the couch and saunters over towards him. He slightly focuses on her seeing her with the pillow. Looking into her cold eyes as she evilly says, "I never loved you. I used you. Those men paid me for sex and you killed them for coming to get what they paid for. I turned you into a murderer. And the best part is, the sheriff will think you two killed each other. Now you've turned me into a killer."

She drops the gun by his side out of reach and pushes the pillow over Tom's face. He struggles. She pushes hard. He struggles more.

"Die you pathetic worm."

As she pushes more, his struggling starts to waver. Her smile grows.

Bang!

Blood trickles from her nose, dripping onto the pillow. Her eyes widen as if trying to scream. She collapses onto the pillow.

Behind her, the Sheriff stands with a smoking gun. He racing up and pulls her off Tom and pulls the pillow aside to see Tom laying there motionless. "Don't worry Tom, I saw everything."

In Tom's gun shop, an old woman sweeps the floor. The shelves are bare.

Ding ding. She looks up to see the silhouette of a man. She pauses. "Can I help you Sheriff?"

The Sheriff steps in and takes his hat off. "Yes Ma'am. I'm wondering how you are doing with the shop?"

"Dandy. It's not easy to clean up a place like this. Pity about Tom you know?"

"Yeah I bet you could use his help."

"Well how about I give you this broom and you help? You seem like a nice strong boy."

The Sheriff chuckles.

She smiles. "Just give me a tick."

She heads out back and yells. "You've got a visitor."

Suddenly, Tom steps through the doorway with his arm in a sling. He looks up, surprised. "Hi Sheriff. I have all the guns out back for stock take but I can show you if you would like. We have the new Smith and Western in."

"I'm not here for a gun Tom. I'm here to thank you for helping me get rid of a problem I have had for ages. You did great Partner. If it wasn't for you, I would never have gotten rid of the manipulative filthy slurry scag."

Tom's face droops with torment as he remembers back about who Mary was arguing with outside his window. It was the Sheriff who fired her up in the first place."

Tom glares at him. "You made her do it. You used me too?"

The sheriff evilly smiles. "Tell your mum not to sweep too hard. I'm the one who cleans up this town."

Tom's torment shows as he stares. The sadistic Sheriff walks out the door. "See ya round, Partner."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A passive aggressive gunsmith is working when a prostitute races in begging for help. Then when thugs come in and threaten her, the gunsmith kills them. He goes to the sheriff to tell him what happened but the sheriff was told by her husband that he murdered the men. He runs and hides but she lays the guilt trip on him saying that he has to kill her husband before the husband kills her. She pushes him inside to confront her husband, and evilly tries to make him shoot. Hubby was worried about her. She grabs hubby's gun and shoots gunsmith in the shooting arm. He drops the gun. She picks it up and shoots hubby. She then puts the Hubby's gun in his hand and throws the Gunsmith's gun back to him. Gunsmith starts fainting, as she stand over him and covers his mouth suffocating him but as he is about to die, she is shot in the back. The sheriff comes in seeing everything."

Those twists I found rather difficult so I used an incredibly awesome technique which I learned from Hal Croasmun. Separating out. One of the few brilliant techniques that has turned me into the writer I am today.

The technique involves writing out each character from their point of view, to make sure their actions and desires line up with who they are. It's a fraction of the wealth Hal has to offer but it's one of the biggest assets I've found. If you write, I HIGHLY recommend you check out his techniques which he has learned directly from top Hollywood professionals.

Westerns are environment based genre like Sci—Fi. For instance, you can have a western with a horror plot genre, then use a rating genre of family, and none of them conflict. One is the environment, one is plot, and one is the style. Western, Fantasy, Sci—Fi, Period Piece, War are all environment. Horror, Drama, Romance, Action, Thriller, Comedy, are feeling genres, which focus on an emotion, but they also have plot elements. Horror, Heist, Disaster, Crime, Rom—Com, Detective, and Mystery are plot genres. Then you have the rating of Children's, Family, Teen, Adult, and Pornographic. Next is the detective: Mixing Business With Pleasure.

Concept: A detective is framed for his wife's murder and manipulates his fellow officers to find out which one of them is going down for this.

Contents

MIXING BUSINESS WITH PLEASURE

The morning light glazes the pavement of the old town street. Footsteps tap as Jack, the chief of police, walks up the footpath. He's a good chief who treats everyone nice and he looks good for his middle aged lifestyle. He's fit and looks like he's about 40 but in reality, he's getting a bit long in the tooth.

As he walks up the footpath, he notices someone up ahead, Peter. The camera around his neck implies some sort of photographer and he pulls out a digital voice recorder revealing his journalistic image. But this guy is somewhat sadistic inside. He's a cut throat killer when it comes to getting a story. But aren't they all?

Jack pauses looking a little anxious. He then continues on towards Peter.

Peter waits at the doorway of the police station with a grin from ear to ear. "Morning Jack..."

"Peter."

"As Jack opens the door he sees Sue, the receptionist just inside." She looks up as she hears them and as Peter sees her looking, he says "Jack you care to comment on the rumor of you bashing your wife?"

Sue shows an uneasy gaze with the gravity of the words. Jack stops as he sees her face and turns back to face the journalist. "Nice work. Now when you're ready, go take photos of a real story."

Peter smiles. "I'll do that Jack and I'll make a fortune out of it."

He walks inside and passes Bobby, a rookie cop with a fit toy—boy look. If you didn't know he was a real cop, you would swear he was a male stripper, attitude and all. He's a B.A.T., Blind And Tenacious, so he thinks he's king shit and is adamant that he is the new best thing in the police force, destined to change the entire industry for the better. But really he hasn't got a clue.

He watches Jack walk towards Marge's desk. Jack peers cautiously around the corner. When he sees no one is there, he then quickly glances around before gulping and heading into his office.

Out of the female toilets comes Marge. She is a hot 30 year old woman in uniform. She has a dominatrix aura where she gets what she wants, when she wants it. Well most of the time she does. She then look at Bobby with a seductive sexual wink. He grins and licks his lips when suddenly he is jerked back.

When he spins around, he sees, Tony, a senior detective with a skepticism which oozes out of every orifice. He's a dark soul bitter and a male chauvinist pig. But that makes him a brilliant police officer.

He pulls Bobby close and whispers in a serious tone, "Tell me the good news. We don't have to force Jack out of the picture right?"

"I want him gone as much as you, but he's not going that easy."

Tony's evil excitement is dashed. "What do you mean?"

"Another year at least."

Rage builds as Tony storms off towards Jack's office. Marge watches Tony barge past and then she proceeds over towards Bobby with an inquisitive gaze.

Tony barges into the Jack's office. "You bastard! How dare you?"

Jack stands with a slightly worried composure. "Tony calm down."

"This is the fourth year in a row and now you expect me to wait another year?"

"Hey I'm chief. I can change my mind if I want."

"You aren't the chief. Everyone knows that I am but you just won't quit will ya?"

"I promise, next year. By then me and Marge will want to settle down."

"What good is your promise when this is your fifth promise to retire?"

"I'm sorry."

"Save your sorry for Marge."

"Shit she's here?"

Tony turns and storms out of the office. Jack sheepishly follows.

Marge is sitting there at her desk the chair turned to face Jack. The foully on her face is freakishly scary as she sits there not saying a word with her arms crossed.

Jack approaches like a cowardly Chihuahua. "I'm sorry Honey."

Suddenly she stands. SLAP! "Just goes to show how much our marriage means to you."

"Marge wait!"

She starts to leave. Jack watches her walking leaving him behind. "Where are you going?"

"I'm feeling sick Jack. I'm having a day off."

She storms past Sue, opens the front door and leaves.

Jack sighs and looks to the side to see Bobby standing by. "Keep her company will ya? Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

Bobby grins. "My pleasure boss."

Later, Tony sits at his desk. His fist slams down next to the keyboard and Sue jumps in fright. Suddenly a mobile phone rings. Tony looks across to see Jack pull out his phone and flip it open.

Jack's countenance sours into a cold seriousness. Jack starts pacing and then talks quietly and forcefully. He sighs and then starts walking towards Sue. As Jack gets closer, Tony overhears Jack saying, "Everything going according to plan?"

After a pause, Jack continues. "Yep I'll go now."

Jack shuts his phone and walks over towards Sue looking around the room like a thief checking if the coast is clear. As he steps up to Sue, he asks, "Um... I'm going to the Post Office to get the mail. Do you need anything?"

Sue looks at him curiously. "Nar I'm right thanks. Are you?"

"What?"

She is about to speak when he just walks out the door. Tony slowly gets up suspicious. Decision sets in as he grabs his keys and mobile and heads for the door.

Sue watches curiously as Tony follows Jack. She then looks at her watch.

Jack crosses the street and Tony spies from a distance.

Jack pauses indecisively out the front of the bank and looks back, as if uncertain about what to do. Tony comes around the corner and is nearly spotted by Jack.. He darts back just in time. He then peeks around the corner to see Jack's hesitation before Jack continues.

Tony watches Jack head into the post office and Tony waits. Soon after, Jack comes out with the mail. Tony hides to the side and watches Jack heading back towards the station.

Jack walks past the bank and looks around at the area criminal—like. Tony hides himself behind a bush and watches Jack looking at the bench seat on the side walk. Jack then continues and Tony follows.

Back at the station, the door opens and in walks Jack. He drops the mail on Sue's desk.

"Sort that out ASAP can ya?"

He glances around looking for someone. "Hey Sue where's Tony?"

"He's —"

Suddenly the door opens and Jack spins around to see Tony.

"Where did you go?"

"Just had to check something out. You know how it is."

"Yeah."

Jack heads back to his office as Tony goes back to his desk.

Sue sorts through the mail and finds a large dark yellow envelope. Typed on the front are the words: "Jack Hogarth."

She calls out. "Hey Jack! There's a big envelope here for you!"

Tony looks up curiously as Jack walks back around the corner.

As Jack reaches the desk, Sue holds out the envelope for him.

Tony stands and slowly walks towards Jack who is opening it. He reaches in and pulls out some photos. Shock splashes across his face as he flips through them.

Sue notices. "What is it?"

Jack, rage filled, storms past Tony back to his office.

Tony looks around and sees Jack slam down the folder on his desk. He then comes out and slams his door shut and locks it. He power walks back towards the front door.

Tony says as he goes past, "Fill us in man."

Jack ignores them and leaves. Tony walks up to Sue. "I'll keep an eye on him. I'll see if I can find out what's going on."

He steps out the door and follows Jack.

Jack passes the bank and Tony follows Jack past the bank just like before. They keep walking until Jack stops in front of a Café, and looks around seeing who is watching. Tony hides behind a wall. Tony then looks back around the corner as Jack walks inside the Café.

Tony sneaks up on the other side of the road and watches from a distance. He sees Jack inside sitting at a table tapping anxiously.

The waitress pours a coffee for him. He drinks it. He waits.

Another cup of coffee poured. Half way through he sighs, still waiting.

The phone rings. He pulls out his mobile and answers it. Tony sees him talking and then nodding.

Jack gets up as he sculls the rest of his coffee. He then goes to the counter and drops hands over the money. "Keep the change."

He leaves hastily.

He walks towards his house and pulls his keys out. He grabs the front door key and as he looks up, suddenly he sees Bobby walking out of his driveway with a smug gaze until he sees Jack. "Jesus you scared me."

Bobby looks at Jack and instantly his smug grin vanishes. "Jack! Um what are you doing here?"

"Just going home to apologize to Marge. How is she doing?"

"Um she's great. No problems there."

"So what has she been doing?"

"Oh you know, women things."

"Like?"

"Um doing her hair and her nails."

"That doesn't sound like her. So you kept her company then?"

"Ah yeah you could say that. Why all the questions."

"Well she must be upset from this morning's argument so I plan to surprise her with a nice lunch."

"Oh."

"Oh what?"

"Well she's... she's asleep at the moment."

"Asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Well she won't mind if I wake her up with something nice."

"Um I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?"

"She said she really wanted to be left alone."

"Oh... I see... I suppose you're right. I so wanted to see her."

"So are you heading back to the station now."

"Well, I suppose. You coming?"

"Ah yeah ok."

They start walking back towards the station when Jack pauses and looks worriedly back at his house. Tony watches from the distance and wonders what Jack is looking at. He then follows them back towards the station.

At the bank, Jack sits down in front of the ATM on the bench seat. Bobby looks at him. "What's wrong?"

"Um... I... I want a rest. You go on without me."

"I thought you were fitter than that."

"Well I'm getting old you know. I can't keep up like I used to."

"O... Kay..."

Jack points towards the station.

"Go help Tony with those assault files. He seems to be falling behind."

Bobby nods. "Yes sir."

Bobby then sets off towards the station leaving Jack there by himself. He sits on the bench seat.

Tony watches from a distance, confused. "What the hell is he doing?"

Soon Tony starts tapping anxiously. He paces, waiting. Eventually he sighs and storms off back towards Jack's house.

As Tony approaches Jack's front door, he notices that it's slightly ajar. He cautiously approaches. He calls out through the door. "Marge! Are you ok?"

He waits. Nothing. The clip on his pistol flicks back as Tony pulls his Glock up ready to shoot. "I'm coming in!"

He pushes the gun against the door and slowly makes his way inside. Eerie. Too quiet. The scent in the air intrigues him. The lounge room. A wine glass half full and another glass with lip stick, empty. An ashtray with three cigarettes butted out. The spare bedroom, empty. The bathroom door. The tiles are wet. He pushes the door open with the gun to see the foggy mirror. "Marge!"

Steps toward the bedroom. Faint tinny music can be heard. He peers through the doorway to see Marge's arm over the side of the bed swinging. He smiles and peeks through to see head phones over her ears and her laying on her stomach. "I was worried about you."

Her arm stops swinging and she doesn't move. He steps closer. Suddenly another twitch sends her arm swinging again as he sees the blood over the side of her head. Closer. It's a bullet hole. Her eyes bulge and her mouth is open like a dead fish. Torment strikes Tony. "Oh Jesus." He exits the room and pulls out his phone.

Later, Jack sits on the gutter outside of his house. Police tape surrounds the premises. Jones, and FBI agent for internal affairs stands by next to Jack. Tony paces nearby and Bobby is being comforted by Sue.

Jones looks up at the house. "Well Jack, I'll have questions for you later."

Jones walks in and sees the corpse. "Shame, what a waste. Oh well. Get the forensics in here. I want the works."

Back at the station, Jack is in an interrogation room. Jones walks in. "Well Jack it's not looking good mate."

"What are you talking about?"

"They said you and her had an argument this morning."

"It was nothing. She went home."

"So what was with all the odd behavior?"

"I swear I haven't been home all day."

"Anyone able to back you up?"

"Ask Bobby. I saw him come out of my place earlier."

"Ok."

In another room, Bobby is sitting down slightly anxious. Jones walks in. "Hey Bobby. What's this I hear about you being at Jack's house?"

"Hey man it's not what you think. She was one in a million."

"But you were there."

Bobby says nothing.

"Look I don't want Jack walking on this. Were you there or not?"

"I was there for a bit just to make sure she was alright."

"And when you left you saw Jack right?"

"So I'm his alibi?"

"Simple question. Did you see Jack?"

Bobby thinks for a second, then says, "No I don't know where he has been. He could have been at the house anytime."

"Thanks."

Jones walks in to the next room and smiles at Tony. "I'm just sorting things out Tony. Getting a clear picture you know?"

"Yes sir."

"Tell me about what Jack did today."

"Sure. He got the photos, went off his head and left in a real hurry straight for home. I followed him to make sure he was ok. He went into the house and when he came out he looked strange, so I went for a look. That's when I found..."

Jones walks up to Sue. "Did you see when Jack got those photos?"

"Yes sir."

"What time was that?"

"About 11am."

"And Tony followed him?"

"Yes sir."

Jones smiles.

Jones storms in to see Jack. "Bobby says he never saw you. He said you could have gone to the house anytime. Tony says you stormed out after seeing the photos, so he followed you to the house."

"They're framing me."

"You framed yourself Jack."

Jones grabs Jack and starts walking him to the cells.

As Jack comes out into the main area of the precinct, he yells, "I never touched her! This is bullshit and I'll make sure you all pay for this."

As Jack gets close to his office, near the door to the cells, Tony grabs him by the shoulder spinning him round to face him. "Why did you do it?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Then why did you take off in such a hurry?"

Jack looks out the corner of his eye at the folder on the desk.

Tony glances at it. He then pushes Jack back. Tony then storms into Jack's office and grabs the photographs. He storms back out as he pulls them out. Shock strikes his face as he sees. Jones grabs a couple of photos and looks at them. It's dated a week ago. It shows Marge having sex. And the guy just happens to be Bobby. Jack's rage builds as he struggles to break free. Jones hands the photos back and he pushes Jack into the cell block.

Jack palms the steel bars hard. Jones steps back a fraction. "That's enough Jack."

"But they're lying!"

"Their stories match up pretty well actually. Bobby says he never saw you. He says he wasn't there. So it's time to come up with some evidence to back up your story."

Jack looks around suspiciously.

His hand reaches into his shoe, and then rise up in front of him. Click! A sound recording of Jack plays from the mini tape recorder in Jack's hand.

"So you kept her company then?"

Bobby's voice replies. "Ah yeah you could say that. Why all the questions?"

"Well she must be upset from this morning's argument so I plan to surprise her with a nice lunch."

Jack stops the tape. "I made copies. You can test it to make sure it's legit."

Jones smiles as he takes the tape player off him. "You're not stupid."

BANG BANG BANG! Someone bashes on the door. Jones gets up and opens it. Sue is there. "Excuse me Agent Jones, CSI have determined —"

"Not here."

He walks outside and into the main office towards Bobby who sees Jones approaches. Bobby starts to look around nervously. As Jones gets closer, Bobby overhears Sue saying, "... that's what they said. Someone had sex with her before she died and they have DNA evidence."

Jones stops and smiles evilly at Bobby.

In the cell block, Bobby is thrown into a cell. "I swear I'm innocent."

Jones glares at him. "You're going down for this whether you like it or not."

Bobby watches him start to walk away. "Please no. I loved her."

Jones stops. He turns with rage. "At this point, I don't care if you're innocent or not. You lied to me and I'll make sure you pay for that."

Jones turns his back.

Bobby is shocked. "I'm sorry. Alright I was there. But Jack told me to take care of her. He set me up. He knew I would sleep with her. I left her alive when I went outside and saw Jack. "

Jones starts to walk away.

Bobby yells, "He stopped at the bank and told me to go on without him! He went back and killed her!"

Jones walks out of sight..

Jack waits in his cell. He looks up to see Jones and they smile at each other as Jones unlocks the door. "Sorry about the trouble Jack, but you know I had to follow procedure. By the book right?"

"Yep. By the book. You've got to do your job right."

"I'll just have to keep you in the interrogation room until we clear up the loose ends."

"Of course. Ask Tony for his story. But check out his story before you jump to conclusions. I don't like being in the cells."

"No worries."

Tony paces in another interrogation room. He looks up as the door opens. Jones steps inside. "Sorry to have kept you waiting. Just got to sort all this out. Sit down."

Tony sits down. "What do you want with me?"

"Well I'm just after some details. Now you said you followed him to his place, and when he came out, he looked strange right?"

"Yeah."

"But Bobby said he saw Jack when he came out of the house, that Jack didn't go into the house. Jack has evidence to back this up."

"Oh that was earlier. I'm talking about later after Bobby kept going and Jack stayed behind. That's when Jack went back to the house. When he came out, he looked strange."

"Oh I see. And Bobby left Jack at the bank right?"

"Um... I'm not sure."

"Yeah well that helps out a lot. You are a great detective Tony. You have a good eye for criminals."

Tony watches Jones get up and start to leave. "So I can go now."

"Won't be long now."

Jones walks up to Sue. "Get the bank's surveillance videos ASAP."

In a dark room, Jones and Sue watch the video quickly winding forward showing people flashing up on the screen getting their money out and leaving. Suddenly Sue sees Jack walk from right to left. "There. Go back."

Jones presses a button and the tape reverses to just before Jack entering frame. He plays. It shows Jack walking causally and happily from right to left. Then soon after, Tony suspiciously follows. After that, as they continue to walk, they see Peter the Photographer walk from right to left.

The time on the tape is 9:47am. After a period of nothing, Sue speaks up. "That would have been when they went to get the mail from the post office."

Jones reaches forward and pushes the quick find button. The picture races ahead.

Soon after Jones spots Jack and stops it. He goes back a bit and plays it again to see Jack walking back with the mail and then Tony suspiciously following. The time shows, 10:11am.

After a period of nothing, Sue breaks the silence. "They got back about 10:30."

Jones goes forward. "They left at 11am you say?"

"Yeah about then."

The 11am marker passes. The 11:16 marker, Jones sees a flash of someone looking like Jack.. He stops it, goes back, and plays it again.

It shows Jack storming past with an angry gaze. Jones smiles. "He must have been ropable. I know I would have been. I think he handled it pretty well."

Tony passes on screen following with his usual suspicious spy like composure. The nothingness after is soon sped up. Then at 11: 37am, Jones sees the part he's been looking for and backs it up ready. He takes a deep breath. Play.

Jack enters frame. He saunters over to the bench seat in front of the teller machine. Bobby walks next to him. Some words are exchanged and Jack points to the right of screen. Bobby nods and leaves as Jack sits down. He looks around, waiting, thinking, relaxing.

Jones watches. "What the hell is he doing?"

He searches forward. It shows Jack doing various things but staying there. Suddenly he gets a phone call and gets up and leaves towards the precinct.

Jones stops it and goes back to play it again. The time is 12:09pm. Sue sees the time. "That's me on the phone. I got the news from Tony about Marge and instantly called Jack to tell him to come back to work."

"He's clear then. Bobby was his alibi up until the bank and then this video is the rest."

"Then it must have been Bobby."

"I don't know. I want to find out what that photographer saw before anything."

Jack waits in the interrogation room. Jones comes in. "Jack you're in the clear. I'm just about to head down to the newspaper to see a photographer. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Not good enough. I want to come with you."

"Just don't get in the way ok?"

At the newspaper offices, Jones and Jack walk up to an empty desk. They look around. Jack looks to the young woman beside them working at the computer. "Excuse me miss, we are looking for Peter Drummond."

"That's his desk. He's hardly ever here. Photographers. Crazy."

"Thanks."

Jack moves papers on the desk. Jones gets worried. "Shouldn't we wait until he gets back?"

"We have the warrant. This is exactly what we want. So let's stick to the plan and search it."

Jones moves in to start looking through an address book. Jack opens up a drawer. He pulls out a manila folder. He thumbs through photos of an open day for a supermarket. In the drawer is another folder. Jones picks it up. In it are pictures of Jack. Jones glances across at Jack who keeps searching.

The first one is of Jack outside the precinct in the morning. The next few are Jack going to get the mail. Then the photos are of Jack's house. They zoom into the window and show Bobby screwing Marge. Jack keeps looking through the desk. There is one photo of Marge by herself, lying on the bed, wet hair, looking like she just had a shower or is drenched in sweat. Behind her is a clock. 11:17am.

Photos from the same spot show Bobby coming out and meeting with Jack. Then it shows them leaving. Next photos are of Tony entering the yard suspiciously. Photos show him looking around in the distance as if to make sure he isn't being watched. Then it shows Tony going inside.

The rest are photos of the cordoned off area, after the police have arrived.

Jack finishes searching. He looks at Jones holding the photos. "You've got what we were after don'cha?"

Jones smiles. "Looks like Tony has got some explaining to do."

Tony sits at the interrogation table. Photos slap on the table. Jones spreads them out. Tony's mouth twitches. "Ok I lied. But I didn't hurt her and I swear Jack isn't disappointed. He wanted her dead."

"Let's get honest shall we? For once?"

"Nothing was out of the ordinary even the argument and having Bobby watch her was nothing new. But that first phone call he got was suspicious. He looked different as if he was uncomfortable. So I watched him. Immediately he went out but then he goes and gets the mail just like he said. I was thinking I was wrong but then he looked at the photos. Something was serious about those photos 'cause he wouldn't say a word. He took off in a real hurry.

"So you followed him again."

"Yeah he was headed straight for his place, but stopped in a café around the corner. After another phone call, he left. I thought he had lost it for sure. But then he catches up with Bobby. He looked at his place in a strange way. Cold like. Weird. But they just left and went to the bank. Bobby kept going and Jack just sat there. I mean if I were him, I would have went off my nut, but Jack just sat there. I got sick of waiting so I went back to the house to see what was going on. That's when I found her. I called the station and you know the rest."

"Well unfortunately you have a problem. One, you lied. So you could be lying again. Why not? It's to save your own arse this time. Two, you don't have anyone who can back up your story. And the photos show that she was perfectly fine when Bobby left. So the photos let Bobby off the hook. They collaborate his story. They left, you saw Jack by himself and you used that chance to go kill her in the hope to frame him and get his job."

"Don't do this. You're being played."

"If that's all you have to say, then you are in for some trouble."

Jones walks out.

Bobby stares at the floor from the bunk of the cell. His eyes stress with emotional pain.

Clunk, the door opens. Bobby looks up to see Jones. Bobby looks at him with questioning eyes. Jones' eyes dart apologetically as he stands aside inviting Bobby to come out. Bobby stands. His face turns angry, Jones appears slightly ashamed.

Bobby walks up and stops near Jones looking straight at him. "I'll make sure you pay for this. You're gonna wish you were dead."

Jones starts to look up at him stunned as Bobby leaves.

Morning light as Sue walks towards the front door of the police station. Jones is waiting for her with a smile. She smiles back at him and hands him the morning paper.

As Sue starts to unlock the door, smiling at him seductively, Jones looks at the newspaper. Splashed across the front page is a picture of Marge laying on the bed with a bullet hole in her head. Blood is sprayed all over the bed head. The clock on the table reads the time: 11:18am.

Jones eyes flash up in realization. "Jesus Christ it was Bobby! She was dead before he left."

The police car park later, with numerous police officers and cop cars everywhere. Tony, off the hook, has been let out to join the search. Jack calls them to attention. "Oy! Shut up and circle round!"

They shuffle into position. Jack continues. "Now we all know Bobby to some degree. He was like a son to me."

Tony's eyes roll. Jones catches him and gives him a dirty look.

Jack takes a deep breath. "It's not a question of how much of a friend he is or how much a a great guy he is. It's that we have evidence that he murdered a cop. We aren't chasing down a friend. We are hunting a sadistic cold blooded cop killer. Don't take any risks. If you have to, shoot to kill!"

Jack has a serious gaze of hatred for the cop killer. "You know your sector. Let's move out!"

Everyone starts getting into cars. Jack starts to get into his unmarked cop car as Jones walks up to him. Jones rests his arms on the roof and leans down to the open car window. "You want me to come with you?"

"Nar go with Tony. I'll call you later like we planned?

"Yeah no worries."

Jack pulls out and leaves as Jones gets in the car with Tony.

Engine noise. Jack drives. He looks around, then at phone next to him and smiles.

Bobby paces in an old shack.. Gun in hand. He slams it against his temple in frustration. He looks at the mobile phone on the dilapidated table. He continues pacing. Torn newspaper on the floor. His foot steps onto the front page picture of Marge dead.

"Oh Jesus... Oh God help me... Jesus."

He pauses, calmer, as he pulls out his wallet.

In his wallet is Jack's business card. Jack's hand writing reads: "Call me if you want to talk."

Dialling. Bobby holds the phone to his ear.

Ringing. Jack answers the call. "Bobby?"

"It's not me Jack."

"Bobby I know. Tell me where you are and I'll take care of you."

"You've gotta help me Jack. Justice needs to be done."

"Anything you want Bobby."

"I want you to come to the old shack near the south bridge. Me and you are going to get this sorted once and for all."

"Sure thing. I'll be there ASAP. Don't worry Bobby. Everything will be fine."

Bobby hangs up with a cold callous gaze in his eyes.

Jack pushes "End call" before dialling another number.

Jones hears his mobile ring. He picks it up and flips it open for his ear. "Jones."

"Got a lead. Head over to the south bridge. Is Tony with you?"

"Yep."

"Excellent. See ya soon."

Jack hangs up and drives to the south bridge. He turns off the road and heads up towards the old run down shack. He sees Bobby's car.

He picks up the phone. He dials.

Sue picks up her desk phone and answers. "Metro Police Department. How may I assist?"

"Sue, Jack. I might have a clue. Bobby called me. He's suicidal. I heard a train in the background so send everyone to everywhere there are trains. Got it?"

"Yep got it."

"I'll update you later."

He hangs up and dials again.

Jones picks up the phone. The bridge is in the distance. "Jones."

"Chuck it on speaker phone."

Jones pushes a button and sits the phone down. Jack's voice comes through. "I found him but I don't want him spooked. The last thing I want is the squad filling him full of holes. How far are you from the bridge?"

Tony speaks up. "A couple of minutes Jack."

Excellent. Tony I need your help to bring him in alive. I'm at the old shack, you know it?"

Tony nods. "Yep we'll be there in a flash."

Jack sees Bobby pacing at the window. Bobby spots the car. "Damn, he's unstable. I have to get in there."

Tony's eyes widen. "No wait!"

The phone tones the end of the call.

Tony looks at Jones. "Step on it."

Jack eases up to the shack in the car. He gets out and slowly approaches hands up. "Bobby it's me, Jack."

"Jack. Thank God you're here. Are you alone?"

"Yep. I'm coming in."

Bobby paces the floor. He looks up as Jack opens the door slowly and comes in. "Hey Bobby. How you holding up?"

"Could be better."

"It's not looking good man."

"Jack there's something wrong. I've been framed. Someone wanted Marge dead and they pinned it on me."

"You're talking nonsense Bobby."

"Bullshit! Don't talk down to me Jack. I'm not crazy."

He keeps pacing the room slamming the gun against the side of his head.

Jack gulps. He looks out the window, in the distance, he glimpses Jones' car.

Bobby looks at him curiously. "What is it?"

"I'm worried about you Bobby."

"Well help me find the killer. It's someone in the department."

"You have to turn yourself in Bobby."

"No way. I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I know it was someone close. They knew Marge. They knew her well."

Tyres are heard in the gravel in the distance. Jack looks out the window and sees Tony and Jones getting out of the car and racing towards the shack, guns drawn.

Bobby's eyes turn angry. "What the hell have you done?"

"I did what I had to do Bobby."

Jack takes a few steps back as Bobby races to the window.

Bobby leans around, seeing the two men outside advancing, guns drawn. His eyes widen in anger and disbelief.

Jack grabs his gun and starts pulling it out. "You're a dead man Bobby."

Bobby turns and looks at Jack.

Tony and Jones look up at the window. They see Bobby, with rage in his eyes, lifting the gun up until BANG! His head jerks back with a puff of red then his body drops the floor.

Jack watches as Bobby's corpse twitches. Blood pools as smoke wafts from Jack's barrel.

Cop cars are everywhere outside of the shack. It's getting close to sunset. Tony walks up to Jones and Jack. "Coroner's nearly finished."

Jones looks up at him. "Stupid prick."

Tony looks a bit sad. "I can't believe it. He would never —"

Jack butts in. "Believe it. You saw it with your own eyes. He freaked out when he saw you guys and nearly shot me."

Tony sighs in understanding. "It just wasn't like him, that's all."

Jones glances around and then focuses back on Tony. "No matter who they are, you never really know what they are capable of."

Tony starts to become distressed. He turns and walks away.

Jack turns to Jones. "Let's finish up."

"Yeah I'm looking forward to a holiday."

Jones goes and gets in his car. Jack pulls out his phone and dials, placing it to his ear. "Hey... Yeah we've finished... Yep... See you soon."

He hangs up and gets in his car.

Jones pulls up just past the bridge. Jack pulls up in front of him. Jones gets out and walks up beside Jack as Jack gets out of the car. Jones looks around as Jack gets out and heads towards the boot of the car. Jack gets his keys ready. "Is there much paper work to do?"

"Nar it's all taken care of. Open and shut mate."

The boot opens and Jack pulls out a duffel bag handing it to Jones "Well Agent Jones, it's nice to know someone I can trust."

Jones smiles as he unzips the bag looks inside. He reaches in and his hand pulls out a wad of money. After checking it, he puts it back in and zips it back up. "That it is."

Jones walks off back to his car, gets in, and starts to drive off.

At that instant, another car pulls up. Jack smiles as Peter the photographer gets out with a video camera. As Pete walks toward Jack, Jack says, "You did well with those photos."

"Thanks. I got paid well for them."

Pete steps up and flips open the video camera. "Just as you wanted."

He presses play. Jack watches as he sees Marge on the bed sit up stunned. She then gets angry before she stops in fear. "No please No!" Bang! Marge is dead. She twitches on the bed. The camera pans over to the bedside clock which has the time: 11:34am. Which was when Jack, Bobby, and Tony were all close to the bank. A gloved hand changes the time back to 11:16am. The camera then turns to show Pete looking into the camera he is holding where he says, "You said you wanted to see the look on her face. I love working for a genius."

Jack smiles an evil grin, as Pete closes the camera. He takes out the DV tape from the video camera, pulls out a heap of the tape from the cassette to ruin it, and then throws it on the ground. As Pete pours lighter fluid on the tape, Jack grabs an identical duffel bag from the back of the car. Pete burns the tape.

Jack hands him the bag and Pete opens it up to see the numerous packs of money inside.

Jack then says, "Nice work. Now when you're ready, go take photos of a real story."

"You know I will but I probably won't make a fortune like I did with these photos. Have a nice life."

"You know I will."

Pete and Jack get in their cars. Jack watches Pete drive away. He smiles with a look of peaceful joy as he turns the car around and drives into the sunset.

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A detective, who was framed for murder and incarcerated, is forced to find out who the murderer is in the jail, without being killed himself. Yet the killer is the warden who also framed him. He gets the gangs on his side and uses them to help him kill the warden saving the detective from being murdered by the warden. But that's a twist since we don't know the inmates are then on the detective's side."

How's that for a significantly different story? The reason why is "Come and Get It." Way too similar. I had to totally rework it, so I stuck it in a spy office. But that didn't work very well either. It wasn't really the detective story I wanted. So I come up with another. My initial Idea was:

"A detective wants to kill his cheating wife so he sets it up to frame himself, knowing that once he's found innocent, the blame will fall on the guy she was cheating with — one of the other cops in his department."

This one worked as a story I really liked. I love the idea of the protagonist detective being the real killer. It's extremely hard to pull off because the audience have to hate someone, and when you reveal they hated and innocent person and liked a scumbag, it really messes with their heads.

Personally, I love messing with people's heads. I suppose if I made this a movie, I would have some pressure on him in such a huge way from the mega worse than Satan bitch of a wife who would make even the most priestly of us say that this murder and framing was justifiably right.

The thing I hate most about these detective movies is the on the nose talking heads exposition from the bad guy at the end. I do believe I put the double meaning puzzle pieces through the story so well that when the last crucial piece falls into place, everything makes sense.

Now for the story conflicted with "It's Raining Men." It's the action genre: The BOOM box.

Concept: A nuclear terrorist demands a depressed marine to be the one who storms the building, and he has to have cameras broadcasting ever second.

Contents

THE BOOM BOX

Iraq, and a squad of soldiers move down a war zone alleyway of semi—destroyed buildings. Bullet holes riddling the crumbling bricks.

Gary, 22, the squad leader. Einstein's brain in Rambo's body. He peers around the corner across an open market square littered with signs of war but people saunter around doing their best to have a normal life.

Beside him stands Sheila, 21, the chief medic. She aims her weapon as she covers Gary. "What do you think?"

Gary scours the area. "Ten minutes. Twelve max. We need that Intel."

Sheila spots a homeless Islamic guy holding an orange rose. "That our guy at ten o—clock?"

Gary looks over seeing the guy with the rose. He then looks back at Hocky, an 18 year old hot shot sniper with a look of a high school jock.

Gary eyeballs Doggs, a 19 year old brick shithouse of a black man who could crush your head with one hand.

"Hocky, Doggs, cover me."

Gary looks over. Three stops between him and the contact. A burnt out truck, a statue, and a half demolished wall.

He looks out up at the buildings, then at the people in the street.

A van nearly runs into an old man and beeps the horn.

Gary waits a second and then darts across to duck down beside the truck. He peers through the holes in the wreck.

Suddenly, the old man starts abusing the van.

Gary waits another second before charging over to hide behind the statue.

The argument finishes and the old man walks off. In a rage, the driver floors the van, spinning the wheels and taking off sideways down the road.

Gary charges over to the wall. He peers out at the Islamic homeless guy with the rose. He whispers aloud. "Pssst!"

The guy turns around. Gary studies him. "Lovely ROSE you have there. You're waiting for someone to come along to ask you about the ROSE, right? Care to talk to someone who will listen."

The guy saunters over and stands on the other side of the wall. "You said you would pay me well."

Gary rolls his eyes. He hands over an envelope. "One thousand US dollars. Now where are they keeping the dirty bomb?"

"Up there."

Gary looks at the guy, who nods at a window of an orange brick building near Gary's squad. Gary looks at a shorter pale blue building beside it. "The blue one."

"Is the rose blue?"

Gary looks at the guy who drops the orange rose and scurries away like a rat from a sinking ship.

Gary looks out at the crowd as the argumentative old man starts a fight with a store owner. Gary charges back the way he came, sneaking all the way back to the troops. He pauses in front of Sheila. "Orange building."

Sheila hesitates. "You'll need a scout. I'll wait here and keep you posted."

Gary thinks. "Good idea. If anything happens, call it in ok?"

"You can count on me."

Gary and the troops gaze up at the two buildings standing ominously before them. "Orange building guys. Let's move out."

Crunch! The door splinters open, as a soldier pulls back after kicking the door in.

Gary glances inside.

From the Alley way, Sheila races back, and charges up into a ruined building.

Gary covers as he waves in the troops. The soldiers race inside.

Upstairs in the ruined building, Sheila looks out the window. She watches the people in the square, obliviously going about their business as the troops covertly slip inside. She sits back to watch the show as she holds her radio in hand.

Gary charges inside and closes the broken door. He pauses. He then bows down to look through a bullet hole in the wood. Across the road, he notices figures crowding around the alleyways and corners. People in the square, scatter. Gary's brow furrows in anger. "Shit."

As a barrage of hundreds of armed militia pour out into the square, Gary turns to the guys. "Look sharp! We've got enemy inbound! Cover the square!"

Troops charge over to the front of the building, guns raised.

Suddenly, bullets burst through the door. Gary's troops start shooting back.

Hocky lines up a militia man shooting from behind the burnt out truck. His finger pulls the trigger. Bang! Red sprays as the militia drops. "Jesus Sarge! There's too many!"

Gary fires a few rounds out the window. "Just hold em off!"

More gun fire as screams of agony come from the wounded outside.

Doggs fires his M60. "Fucking ambush! I'm gonna open up a can on whoopass on that fucking intelligence officer and his fucking shitty Intel!"

In a dark room, privy to the distant cracking gunfire, a mass of computer screens line the wall. The main screen lights up with a smilie face. A gloved hand clicks a mouse. The other screens light up showing numerous camera views. With a few more clicks, the main screen shows the footage of the squad firing and Gary yelling out. "Doggs, Hocky, let's move in!"

Inside the building, Hocky and Doggs head for the stairs. Gary leads. He steps into the stair well where he sees shadows of militia up stairs. He darts back as a barrage of bullets chew into the stairs. "Shit!"

Hocky pauses. "That's a suicide mission Sarge. We can't go up there."

Doggs looks back at the men shooting out into the square. "You think we can hold them all off out there?"

Gary thinks. "If they've got a dirty bomb up there, we have to stop it at all costs."

Hocky stands firm. "That Intel was a trap! There's nothing but death up there."

Doggs moves over to the front of the building. He looks out. Hundreds more of the militia pour into the square. "Jesus Christ! It's a fucking army out there! We gotta take these fuckers out!"

Gary looks over at a guy in glasses shooting out into the square. Rosko. 18, the radio guy. "Rosko! Call it in!"

Rosko grabs the radio and talks. Gary and Hocky fire on the invasion. Rosko finishes up. "Back up is fifteen minutes away!"

Hocky sees a guy holding a rocket launcher. Bang! The guy drops dead before he can fire. Hocky looks back. "R.P.Gs!"

Gary decides. "Where moving in! Hocky, Doggs Cover the square and follow us in!

All the troops look at Gary with a look of dread. Rosko looks back. "Are you crazy? You want to let these fuckers get close?"

Gary bites back. "Alpha formation! Upstairs now!"

The troops charge towards the stairs, reloading. Doggs and Hocky fire away at the approaching militia.

Gary looks at the stairwell as he pulls a grenade. He throws it hard at the wall and it rebounds up over the balcony upstairs. Boom!

Instantly, they charge up. Militia stand guard in the distance as the troops race up. Gary and his men shoot down one guard after another.

As the troops move up away from Hocky, he sees numerous guys with Rocket launchers converging in the main square. He shoots three but the last couple line up the building. "That's it Doggs!"

They races back as five militia launch RPGs at the doors.

Hocky and Doggs race up the stairs, Boom! Shrapnel and splinter shred the lower floor as militia charge towards the smoky hole.

Hocky and Doggs storm upstairs to see the Gary's troops approaching the next lot of stairs. Suddenly, a mass of grenades sprinkle down through holes in the roof. Gray's eyes widen. "Take cover!"

The men race back towards the ground floor and dive forward down the stairs as a concession of grenades burst. Boom boom boom boom boom!

Gary rises to see Rosko quivering on the shrapnel ridden floor, oozing blood like a sieve. "Oh no."

Doggs races up with a nade. "Pay backs are a bitch!"

The squad see him looking at the hole. Instantly, they all line themselves up and all throw nades back up into the above level. A vicious rapture rips through the building as blood sprays down through the holes.

Gary looks at the next lot of stairs. "Move in!"

As they race up to the next level, they see the carnage of militia cut down with shrapnel. The race to kick open some large doors down the end, then enter the last room. Gary points the troops at the door. "Barricade that and shoot anything coming up those stairs."

The troops get to work moving a couch into position.

Doggs and Hocky stand guard at the door. Gary walks up to a table where there are blueprints to the design of how to make a crude nuclear weapon. "They're making a fucking nuke!"

He sees the dinner plate sized hexagon explosives. The diagram shows how they would be assembled in the shape of a one meter high soccer ball shape which has be semi—assembled on the floor. He looks at this crude half built bomb near the window. "Jesus. Intel was right. It's a dirty bomb!"

He glances out the window down at the huge crowd of militia outside the window. "Time to nade spam guys."

The troops race up with a mass of nades. They all pull the pins of several grenades each, holding the leavers shut in their other hand. Gary gets his three nades ready. "Let's make it rain!"

Instantly, they throw the mass of grenades out the window showering the hundreds of militia bellow. A roar of terror erupts before a boom that throws all the troops back and shakes the foundations of the entire block.

Doggs starts shooting the enemy as they race up the stairs. "We got em Sarge! They're fucked."

Slowly the militia that charge up the stairs dwindles to a stop. Doggs and Hocky pant.

Gary relaxes as he looks over the bomb. Something grabs his attention. It's a video camera. He looks close.

In the dark room. The terrorist watches the footage on the screens. The gloved hand pushes a button. Up on the main screen, it reads: "Executing Self-Destruct." The figure stands and races out of the room.

At the dirty bomb, Gary sees the laptop display as it brings up the smilie face. It reads "Congratulations." The timer counts down from 5.

Gary's eyes widen as he sprints for the side window. "Take cover!" He dives out the window and all the troops look around to see him burst through the glass. Then they see the screen with a big number one.

Boom!

As the explosion erupts, Gary flies through the air down two stories, to punch through a boarded up window of the blue building.

Sheila watches out the window as she barely sees Gary flying through the air.

As he lands, the sickening crunch echoes the sound of numerous broken bones. He lays there like a corpse as the shrapnel tremors the entire area.

With the wind blowing the radiation cloud away, Sheila races up to Gary's side. She checks his pulse. "Jesus Sarge. How the hell did you survive that?"

Three years later over the huge city of LA with its hustle and bustle of hope and dreams, a large prototype waste management facility sits atop a hill, quietly off to the side of the busy coastal streets. It's beautiful with magic gardens and artistic architecture. A monument and testimony to the peace and tranquility that can still be found if you seek it out. Numerous figures step up to the railings all around the roof.

Sniper rifles harmoniously cock. Lock and load.

Bang bang bang bang bang! The crack of gunfire echoes through the streets as ant—like pedestrians start dropping like flies.

The chorus of singing barrels rise to a climax with one last bang. Through the scope, a little girl is seen holding a teddy bear with one arm and her mother's hand with the other. She smiles up at her protector. As if Death himself reaches over and grabs the little girl's soul and jerks it from her body, the innocent drops the bear and her hand slides from her mother's grip. Like the demolition of a building, she falls, demolishing all hopes and dreams of the mother.

Holding the sniper rifle is, Jones, 45, an expert American marksman with a large battle scar across his face. He's dressed like the rest in their military outfits with audio headsets, only his face has camouflage making him look like he is the hand of death.

In the distant streets as the mother cries over her child, police sirens sing in harmony with the ocean.

The distant flashing lights belong to the car of Zakir, 38, the head FBI agent on the case who proudly brandishes his Syrian roots. As his car stops, he steps out and looks over to the mother in the distance. A flurry of other emergency vehicles converge on his position.

Suddenly, his phone rings. He gulps in despair as he raises his phone to his ear. "Agent Mendesh."

A digitized voice comes through the phone. "Zakir, how's it hanging?"

"Who's this?"

"Come now. You don't know? After the invitation to the party I gave you?"

"Jesus Christ."

A digitized laugh comes through.

"Ha ha you're way off pal. Do you like the show?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Well I have this problem see. I need two ex—military personnel. Gary Stokes and Sheila Madison. Strap them with cameras giving a three hundred and sixty degree view, broadcasting to all the news networks, and you will supply them with serious weaponry, because they are the only ones allowed to storm the building. You have two hours to get them into the building before it's game over. If you try to evacuate the city, interrupt the news broadcast, contact them or send anyone else in to fight, I'll detonate the nuke in the building."

Zakir gulps. "How do I know you are telling the truth?"

"Look to your right... More... more.... Now up a bit. You see it?"

"See what?"

Boom! With the brightness of a second sun and the brilliance of a supernova, the blast gives birth to the inedible mushroom of death. It's a nuclear explosion on the horizon.

Zakir stumbles back. His hands dropping down in awe and fear as he watches the apocalyptic cloud.

The distant voice calls from the phone. It breaks the Zakir out of his trance. He puts the phone to his ear as the terrorist continues. "Tell the press, that was the power station at San Onofre. It was a small place so no real loss there, you know?"

The phone goes dead. Zakir lowers the phone which beeps its tone. He gazes up at the sickening blast.

A computer monitor shows a computer game view, out the back of a helicopter, looking over a stone based desert city somewhere in the middle east. Other helicopters follow.

Boom! A nuke goes off with a massive mushroom cloud. The blast wave hits helicopters and sends them spiralling towards the ground.

Playing the computer game is Gary, now 25 with 3 years of long hair and long beard. The 100% dedicated game freak wages war against the computer game enemies with incredible robot—like skill. Even his gaze is terminator—like and if his eyes were any redder, you would swear they were terminator eyes.

The daylight barely penetrates the room. He stops as he reaches across to pack a bong with pot. As he pulls it up to his mouth and smokes the cone with well rehearsed robot—like repetition, the lights of his world evaporate. Totally black. He doesn't even flinch.

Bong down. Smoke out. A pause.

Suddenly, he roars and throws the keyboard off the desk. He turns around to gaze at a generator stashed under a mess of clothes and rubbish.

His hands dust off the generator. He plugs the computer in.

A pull of the starter cord and it doesn't start. He checks the fuel. Empty.

His lighter flickers in the blackened garage of broken tables, and other furniture. He scours through the piles of old boxes and smashed computer parts. Through rusty tools and dusty stools. An old tin falls to the ground and rolls across the floor.

While pouring the petrol into the generator, a knock racks on the door. It's like he's deaf.

Sheila's voice roars through the door. "Gary you ignorant fuck! Open up this door!"

Gary finishes with the petrol. He pauses as he thinks.

He yells. "Fuck off!"

"It's not that easy!"

He finishes putting the cap on the generator fuel tank. He charges the door. "Talk fast."

"This black out. Did you see what caused it?"

"Fuck off!"

"You've gotta see this Gary. It's..."

Gary jerks the door open. "It's what?"

Before him, the massive mushroom cloud hypnotizes him. He saunters forward. "Idiots."

He looks at Sheila who has a paused, uncertain gaze. She gulps as he looks to the side to see an FBI agent shooting a Taser. He side—steps the darts and charges forward to grab the agent whose eyes widen with fear.

The sound of another Taser going off. Gary jerks his head back in a tensed gritted teeth roar of agony. The rage of voltage devours his will to fight on.

An agent approaches with a bag and slips it over Gary's head. Blackness.

The jerk of the bag rips open to reveal the blinding light of the bright sky. Gary squints as he is thrust forward onto a pile of military weapons. He starts to see. Instantly, he grabs an M16 machine gun and spins around ready to shoot.

A chorus of clicks come from the numerous weapons of numerous FBI agents ready to blow Gary away. He pauses, cautious. "You think you can kill me before I take a heap of you punks out?"

Zakir, drags Sheila past a stretcher with a small body bag, and steps in front of Gary's weapon. "You're an awesome soldier Gary. Impressive record."

"What the fuck do you want?"

"It's not what I want Gary. You saw the mushroom cloud. It's what they want. They want you. And they're waiting for you in there."

Zakir points at the distant waste management plant. Gary checks out the architecture at the top of the hill, then looks at the pile of weapons. "I'll die before I help you."

"You'll die anyway if you don't go up there and stop that nuke. You've got..." Zakir looks at his watch, "... twenty three minutes to storm that plant."

"Why should I?"

"Because you give a fuck about innocent little girls, even if you are a pathetic suicidal piece of shit."

At that instant Zakir rips open the body bag to reveal the dead little girl. Gary pauses. Zakir covers up the child. "Gary you're a dead man anyway. Why not go out in a blaze of glory. Worst case scenario, you set off the best LA fireworks ever. Either way, you'll have fun doing it."

Gary looks at the weapons pile. "So what's the catch?"

Zakir grabs a baseball cap with four tiny cameras strapped to it. He slaps it on Gary's head. He then points at a News van where they have a monitor set up showing exactly what Gary sees. "You've gotta put on a good show for the world."

"You're kidding me right? Candid fucking camera?"

"Don't worry, they are water proof and shock proof. You won't even notice they are there."

"What about a headset?"

"Can't risk it. They said no communication"

Gary glares at Sheila. Her eyes dart with torment, unable to look him in the eye. He sighs. "I suppose you're here to watch?"

Zakir grabs another camera hat. "You could say that." He slaps the hat on her head and pushes her forward.

Gary's torment shows as Sheila sympathizes. "I'm so —"

"Shut the fuck up."

Gary's hands snap up weapons, loading them and strapping them to his body. Sheila joins in on the serious pursuit of firepower. It's a quest to be the best and no spot is left unarmed.

Gary and Sheila glare back at the Zakir. Gary glances over to the camera men and back at Zakir. "It's show time."

Gary storms off towards the hill. Sheila gulps and follows.

A body of one of a sniped young skateboarder in their path. You can see the blood trail where this boy dragged himself to cover behind the building. Gary looks down. "Looks like we're in range."

Gary steps over him like he was a lump of rubbish. Sheila carefully steps over the lad, taking in the sheer savagery of it all.

Zakir watches a TV shop window, where numerous TVs broadcast the corpse footage live.

Gary walks up to the edge of the building. He looks out at the sniped people in the street. He then turns back to the dead kid and robs the corpse of his baseball cap.

Back at the edge of the building, he moves the cap out at head height as if it were looking at the treatment plant. Snap! Bullets rip the cap from his hand like a burst of sickening rapid fire. Gary looks at the hat. "Great. A welcoming party. Just what I wanted."

Sheila checks her Blackberry, looking over map details of the area. "That plant has a massive underground network of pipes and treatment machinery. We'll have to work our way up seven floors but a least there's another way in."

"How?"

In the sewers, Gary wades through the stench. "This day just gets better and better."

At the end of the pipe, they see a huge tank. It's full of the filthiest shit imaginable. Across the other side is a ladder leading up to a manhole. Sheila steps forward. "Well I didn't say it was going to be fun."

Gary grabs Sheila and throws her into the filth. Her eyes widen in disgust as she ploughs into the semi—thick sewerage. Under she goes. As she comes up for what she wishes was air, Gary plops in beside her. Struggling not to spew, Sheila swims her way over to the ladder. As she grabs hold, Gary climbs up before her. "You know it's a trap right?"

Sheila follows him up the ladder. "It's a game. I'm sure it's not as hard as it could be. We can win this as long as we use our heads. After all, these terrorists want a decent show right?"

"Well let's get started."

He lifts the lid ever so slowly and looks around. Suddenly the crack of gunfire ricochets off the lid. He instantly ducks. With well rehearsed precision, he grabs four grenades and pulls the pins.

Sheila notices. "No wait!"

Slamming the manhole lid open, he throws them all through into the base of treatment plant.

Boom! The blast sends a hail of shrapnel throughout the area. He instantly charges in and Sheila races in after him.

Gunfire rings out as Gary charges to the right shooting the military terrorists who hide behind leaking treatment tanks.

Sheila charges up and takes cover behind a huge steel support beam. She fires a burst of rounds to take out a balled black thug up the end of the basement.

As the smoke clears and the last bullets shudder a wounded thug, Sheila turns to Gary. "You're fucking crazy!"

"So?"

Gary looks around to see a pipe hissing a faint amount of methane gas. Sheila shakes her head in disbelief.

With blistering speed and precision, Gary grabs a cleaning hose and aims it at Sheila. As she turns to see, her eyes widen. She braces herself as the blast of water washes her clean. Gary then turns the hose on himself, drenching himself clean with a smile on his face. "That's better."

He then sneaks up toward the mesh stairs. Sheila follows aiming up. Gary stops. Sheila looks up where Gary is looking to see a series or terrorists twitching, led by a geeky man with glasses, waiting for a chance to spring their ambush. "That's suicide."

"Ok. We'll take the elevator."

Gary walks up and pushes the button for the elevator. The level 7 doors open and the elevator sits ready for them. Gary steps in and presses the ground floor button at the top. "Going up?"

On the ground floor of the beautiful architecture building, numerous military terrorists, guarding the crude thermal nuclear weapon, hold AK47s ready to pump the elevator full of holes. The elevator is coming up. As the floor numbers slow to G, the doors open. Like a debris cloud of a tornado, the roar of bullets tear the elevator to shreds.

Inside, two corpses lay perforated. Jones gets closer and turns over one of the corpses. It's the bald black thug. Jones touches a button on his headset. "Alpha, charge basement level 7."

At the stairs of the level 7, flash grenades rain down. The bright white bangs rip are deafening and through the fade of white and the ear ringing squeal, the flurry of terrorist pour into the level 7 basement from the mesh stairs. Other than hiss of methane and the perforated thugs, it's clear as a bell.

Tiddly, 24, the geeky man with glasses touches his headset. "Alpha clear."

Gary and Sheila grip the elevator shaft ladder next to the door. Gary listens.

Jones pauses, thinking. He charges over to the elevator, jumps up, punching open the man hole as he easily and proficiently climbs up. On top, he leans over listening.

Gary looks up, attentive. "Shit."

Gary frantically wedges a gun against the wheel on top of the elevator door and pushes hard.

Jones hears the echo of the steel and pulls out a pack of C4 explosives. He packs them against the elevator cable.

Gary pushes harder as the elevator door cracks open.

Five guards on level 6 turn to see the level 6 elevator door move. Sheila looks at Gary. "What the hell are you —"

Bang bang bang! The roar of gunfire from the terrorists, hails through the gap. Ricochets spray around Gary and Sheila.

Sheila ducks. "Fuck! Down or up?"

Gary starts climbing up. "Down!"

Jones hears the echo of the word "Down" as he backs away from his explosives.

He drops down through the man hole. As he walks out holding the C4 trigger, he touches his ear piece. "Beta, basement 6, Alpha, guard the elevator!"

Tiddly watches the level 7 doors.

Beta squad charges down the stairs into level 6, led by Clink, 43, a tank of a man who looks like he's squashed a few people in his time. They see the 5 guards aiming at the bullet ridden doors.

Jones turns to face the elevator. He smiles as he presses the C4 trigger button.

Boom! The explosion shakes the building as the elevator drops like a bomb.

Tiddly shudders.

Inside the shaft, pushing the gun hard against the wheel, Gary calmly looks up to see the elevator slowly start falling and the cable slack slowly growing before his eyes. The door cracks open slightly as a small flurry of bullets rip through the gap. Sheila looks up as the elevators acceleration builds. "Oh fuck."

Sheila tears out a flash grenade and tosses it through the elevator door gap as Gary opens it wider.

Two terrorists watch the level 5 doors as the grenade tinks in front of them. Bang! Blinded by the light and deaf as a post, they squint in pain as they try to recover.

Clink looks up, listening, hearing the echo of the flash grenade but also a noise from the level 6 elevator doors. He saunters toward the tiny door gap. A wind and noise brews, rushing out. Curiosity has him step forward.
Inside the shaft, the roar of the elevator builds as it gets closer. Gary rips open the door, grabs Sheila and pulls her through the door gap.

He then looks up as the elevator is about to smash him in the head. He grabs the top of the door and drops to swing through the door. Just as his feet push through the gap, he lets go. His finger tips slip down as the base of the elevator makes friends with his knuckles, nicking the skin of his trigger finger.

Clink listens close as whoosh! The elevator blasts past, scaring the hell out of him.

Tiddly waits in position, aiming at the elevator door. Smash! The crushing power pounds into the door, buckling it out with sickening force.

FBI Agents gasp and jerk in fright at the sight on the screens.

Sheila starts to rise from the floor. The terrorist directly in front of her starts to gain focus, peering around and listening, waiting for his hearing and sight to come back. He turns to see Sheila, pointing the machine gun straight at her ready to blow her away but he pauses as he sees who she is.

Sheila looks him in the eye as the terrorist looks at her with disbelief. He lowers the gun.

As Gary looks up, Sheila jerks up a hand gun and shoots the terrorist between the eyes.

Zakir watches the screen with disbelief.

Jones leans in closer to the elevator shaft, curious.

Gary sees the other disorientated terrorist and swiftly guns him down with an UZI.

Jones hears the echo of the burst fire.

Zakir charges over to the news van and pulls a crewman over to bail him up against the van. "Tell me there is some way to contact him."

The cameraman gulps in worry. Zakir throws him to the side. "Shit!"

Jones looks down the shaft. Suddenly, he grabs a terrorist and pulls him to the shaft. "Guard the shaft and shoot anyone stupid enough to climb up."

Jones touches his headset button. "Alpha and Beta, check every floor. And watch out. They aren't what you're used to."

Gary and Sheila look at each other as they prepare themselves. Ammo clips drop to the floor. New clips slot in. Gary looks up. Sheila follows suit.

Suddenly, bullets ricochet from below. Instantly, they charge forward toward the stairs with Gary in the lead. "Cover my back!"

On the next level, two terrorists hide ready to ambush. Waiting at the stairs for a split second, Gary peeks around the corner. Sheila covers the stairs where they came up. Gary prepares.

Slowly, he looks out again ready to shoot anyone. He pulls out two grenades and looks at the pins. He smiles, as he throws the grenades over near the two terrorists, who glance down at the lumps of metal with fear gripped eyes.

Instantly, they sprint out from the alcoves and into the open. Gary waits for them to stop and realize the grenades aren't going to go off.

As they quickly spin around, Gary mows them down with shots. Sheila waits as she sees Alpha squad moving in from below. She fires off a few rounds. They fire back.

She looks back at Gary who collects the two grenades. She throws a live frag grenade down as she races over to catch up with Gary. Boom! Onwards they venture towards their destiny. Clink and Tiddly look at each other as the smoke from the grenade dissipates.

Up further, it's quiet except for the machinery. Too quiet. A tink. He stops. Sheila pauses, covering behind as she hears the paranoid distant bursts of gunfire from below. Gary's eyes glance to the side. A fraction of movement as doors from each side slide open in the dark shadows.

Instantly, he grabs Sheila and pulls her back behind a steel support beam as muzzle flashes burst from the shadows. Machine gun fire peppers their position. Gary pulls a flash grenade and lines up the wall to the side.

Sheila spots military terrorists from Alpha squad trying to come up the stairs. She shoots at them and they dart back to take cover.

Gary throws it against the wall, rebounding directly between the two muzzle flashes. Instantly, the doors slam shut with a thud. Gary's brow furrows as he grabs another flash grenade. Flash Bang! The tink of the second flash grenade is barely heard. It sits waiting in the center.

The doors slide open. One of the militia looks directly at the flash grenade. As realization sets in, the grenade explodes leaving the white light and ringing ears.

Gary strolls up the center of the walkway and shines a torch into the shadows to show the blind and deaf men, feeling around for some sense of direction, just before they find their way down to the floor with the help of Gary's deadly gunfire. Gary walks up and pulls the uniform hat off one of the dead men.

Leaving the corpses without an ounce of remorse, he heads forward toward the next set of stairs.

He reaches a large room where a series of small tanks lead up to a massive tank up the end. Gary holds a fraction of the hat out as if looking around the edge.

A winding sound as rows of M213 helicopter machine guns wind up their spinning barrels. The roar of bullets shred the hat and a barrage of hellfire spews out in Gary's direction. The ricochets of bullets hitting metal are deafening. "Cover me!"

Sheila holds her hand to her ear. "What?"

"I said, cover me!"

He points the direction of the helicopter guns and then gestures with a gun shaped hand 'Shoot at them.'

Sheila gulps, jerking every so often at the ricocheting lumps of lead. She catches glimpses of Gary pulling out a rocket launcher. She gulps again. "Oh shit."

Locked and loaded, Gary turns ready to lean out and fire.

Sheila pants as he gives her the nod. She instantly leans out and shoots at a gunner. The other guns all turn their fire on her as fear grips her and she pulls back just before the bullets pepper her position.

Gary, aiming at the wall, starts leaning out. He pulls the trigger. As the barrel of the rocket launcher barely clears the wall, the projectile hurtles forward. He instantly darts back as the projectile punches into the tank and explodes!

The walls of the tank give way and the rush of sewerage erupts like a tidal wave, brutally washing the terrorists away.

Sitting at home, in front of a TV, is an 8 year old boy dressed in his GI Joe costume, watching the carnage. "Fuck me."

Gary and Sheila charge in and with consecutive burst fire, they take out the filthy scum.

With that, a hail of bullets comes from behind. They turn to shoot as a barrage of Alpha squad charge up the stairs towards them. Gary shoots one of the terrorists. "Run!"

She charges up the last set of stairs as a barrage of grenades tink at his feet. He sprints away with the bullets rushing past. As he heads up the stairs, a bullet hits him in the shoulder throwing him forward. The grenades explode with an almighty bang.

Slivers of razor sharp steel hurtle at Gary like a million miniature knives thrown by a million mega strong miniature midgets. Gravity takes hold and pulls Gary to the floor as the knives slice through his back pack.

Smack! He hits the wall. More grenades land beside him. Instantly, he charges up the stairs as more gunfire buzzes past his head like a billion flies.

He trips up the top of the stairs pushing open the door landing in the ground floor of the building. Sheila stands in front of him looking down. He looks up at her seeing the cold expressionless stare. He looks her over and notices she has taken off all her weapons. "Everything ok?"

Jones' voice happily echoes through the room. "Everything's peachy."

He steps out from behind Sheila holding his AK47. Gary sees the crude thermal nuclear weapon as numerous other military terrorists come out of the woodwork. One jabs a machine gun into Gary's butt cheeks.

Jones steps forward and gazes at Sheila. "Orders?"

She evilly glares at him as he gulps with worry. She smiles. "You seem to be doing all right. I'll just sit here and watch."

He looks around to study Gary. "Help him up, will you, my dear?"

Sheila helps Gary up as the militia take the weapons from him. When he is stripped of his arms, Jones offers his hand of friendship. "You must be Gary. Welcome to my humble abode."

Gary ignores him and glances around at all the machine guns pointed his way. Jones, sighs relenting to the belittling ignorance. He looks into the camera and gives a wave. "Hello all you people out there. I trust you are enjoying the show."

Gary glares at him. "You're maggot food."

"Aren't we all?"

Jones gazes with the serious hope of the philosophical debate. "What if I want to be cremated?"

Gary steps forward as the click of weapons around him halts his progress. "I'll be happy to oblige."

The charge of Alpha squad and Beta squad sounds as they sprawl into the room. Jones smiles. "Glad to see you made it."

Clink walks in and looks around to see what's going on. He locks eyes with Sheila and uncomfortably pauses.

Sheila sighs. She's had enough. She snatches a hand gun and points it at Jones' head.

He pauses, confused. "What did I do wrong?"

Bang! Jones' brains spray over some of the other terrorists who shudder like children scolded by their mother. Gary watches in awe.

Suddenly, Sheila erupts in a rage. "Did I fucking tell you to drop a fucking elevator on me?"

Everyone except Gary, hold their head in shame.

Sheila kicks Jones' twitching corpse. "Answer me you fuck!"

Rage builds as she unloads the weapon into the corpse. Bang bang bang bang bang!

She sighs with blissful relief as she drops the gun into the swelling pool of blood. Gary pauses, confused.

Tiddly pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He takes a deep drag.

Gary races over towards Tiddly reaching out for the AK47. The mass of clicks sound as Tiddly aims at Gary's head ready to shoot. Sheila yells! "Wait!"

Gary reaches out slowly and takes Tidly's cigarette. He then takes a long drag as he backs away. He turns to see Sheila holding out her hand to Click who hands over his handgun with reverence. "Ma'am we didn't know!"

"Exactly! Why the fuck do you think I gave you strict orders? Huh?"

She turns around to smile at Gary. His face churns with torment. His shaking hand raises the smoke to his mouth for another drag.

She sympathizes. "I'm sorry Gary."

"For what?"

"Well I never thought you would survive Iraq. In a way, you didn't... Jesus man all you did was play those fucking games. That ain't living Gary... In that sense, I couldn't let you die as a nobody. You deserved to go out in a blaze of glory."

"Is that what you call this?"

"Hey you weren't meant to make it this far. You were meant to die a hero."

"I never gave a fuck about being a hero. The only reason I did any of this was for you. As far as I'm concerned the world can rot and die."

He flicks the cigarette past the elevator guard, down the elevator shaft. It falls brilliantly like a beacon of light into the abyss of hell. Level after level it falls as the hiss of methane grows. Level 6 and the cigarette strikes the ladder spraying its brilliant sparks through the gas. A flame builds around an amber.

Boom! The roar rips up through the elevator shaft in a savage tremor. Flames erupt through the elevator doors engulfing the elevator guard.

Gary and the others stagger as he storms toward Sheila. The terrorists gain their stance, ready to shoot as Sheila raises the hand gun to his chest. She doesn't flinch. He sees the gun and stops right in front of her. He pauses, rage filled. "Do it."

"Come on Gary, this is —"

He grabs her hand and puts the barrel to his head. "Pull the fucking trigger!"

She pauses, watching as a tear drops from his eye and sprints down his cheek. She drops her head in shame.

Suddenly, he pushes her to the side and charges toward the nuke.

She turns to see him. "There is no way you can defuse it!"

He slows and pauses a few meters in front of the wires and looks over the huge soccer ball of explosive plates. He studies it, trying to work out what is what, noticing a box on top with a green LED lit up. He glances back at all the military terrorists waiting for him to take one more step as an excuse to blow him away. She smiles. "You don't want to pull the wrong wires. One little change and boom! I'm not stupid."

He glares back at Sheila. "You should know me by now. All these fucking years and all I wanted to do was find and kill the fucker who set us up in Iraq. And the only reason I didn't go off the deep end was for you."

He looks up at the camera she is wearing as he poses with a game show host smile. "And to our wonderful audience, I hope you all will like the show."

He flicks his arms out to the side presenting himself, "Staring the man himself. Me. Gary Stokes."

He smiles evilly. "It's show time."

Sheila's gaze sours with dread as Gary turns around and charges the nuke. She raises her gun and opens fire. Gary jerks as the rounds punch through his back. The rest of the men open fire and Gary's body jerks with the hundreds of bullets tearing him apart. He collapses with the forward momentum as he reaches out for the table. Thud.

He grabs hold as he gasps for breath, blood pumping out of a huge bullet wound in his throat. He coughs blood up over the table as the terrorists pause, smoke bellowing from the numerous barrels. Sheila waits, sadly watching him struggling to hold himself up on the table. She murmurs the sad words: "That's a wrap."

Suddenly, Gary pushes himself up with one last gasp. Sheila's eyes widen with dread as he randomly grabs wires and tears them from the device. The green LED turns red with a beep. He smiles. He gargles the words: "Fuck you all."

Zakir watches as the white flash blinds him, a fraction before the blast wave incinerates him in an instant.

The 8 year old boy dressed in his GI Joe costume watches the TV turn to fuzz. His eyes widen in awe as he notices the bright light outside the window. He gets up and walks over the see the light fade into a massive mushroom cloud. A smile washes over his face. "Take that you bitch!"

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A terrorist plants a suit case nuke in a maze of traps and riddles and demands that A suicidal computer game player and his friend be the only people allowed to disarm the nuke on national TV. The computer game player and his friend are kidnapped by the government and must run the gauntlet or die in the blast. The thing is, his friend is the terrorist."

The core of this was a genius, stopping a nuke, running a gauntlet, with TV cameras so everyone could watch. That and the friend being the terrorist.

Problems arose when "It's Raining Men" had such a great story. I found myself with the problem of running the gauntlet of traps. I tried robots at first. Like the raptors in Jurassic Park. But this wasn't really an action story. It was a puzzle of avoiding robots, or a horror style monster. So I went for a new idea at its core. What is Action?

Shooting, Car chase, Explosions, Fighting. So I went with the shooting and explosions. You will notice a few of my stories start with the wound. This is a Michael Hauge technique where in a prolog, you see a traumatic event happen to the hero which causes him to overreact as a way of protecting himself from ever experiencing the fear of that wound ever happening again.

It's all about making the core of what drives any human being and makes them more real than any other techniques you can think of. They are hard to get your mind around but I have encompassed this part into the incredibly awesome character profiles which Hal has created in his classes.

I also worked out how this all relates to the amazing Blake Snyder and compiled all three into an entire story process. Extremely difficult. Hauge had the most profound insight into character and this wound is the key.

I did this in Prince Disgusting, Forgive Me Father, Black out, and also the Drama story: Once Was Lost Now Found.

Concept: A poor father is forced to give up his baby girl for adoption, then many years later, she tries to use her riches to help her homeless dad.

Contents

ONCE WAS LOST NOW FOUND

In a city, Corey, a 25 year old struggling car salesman and his awesome wife, Tamara, an immigrant heir to a wealthy estate who loves painting portraits, happily walk together with the pram. Inside the pram is the beautiful baby daughter, Suzie. Corey smiles at Suzie. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

Tamara grins at him sexually. "Luck has nothing to do with it. It's fate and your hard work that have made you the nicest man I have ever known."

"Then thank you, fate. You have given me the best gift I could ever ask for and could never live without. Nothing can take this away from me, especially —"

Suddenly a shadow stops him as a gargoyle statue from the building above them, falls and smashes Tamara in the head. Corey stands there in shock.

A week later, Corey turns up at work pushing the pram. He pushes Suzie into the office where he sees Gunther, 56 his boss. Gunther turns to see Corey. "Jesus, man, are you ok?"

"People keep asking me but I don't —"

"What's with the pram?"

"I can't afford a baby sitter so I had to —"

"Corey don't tell me you were stupid enough to think that you can bring the kid here."

"But I —"

"Your wife, what's her name —"

"Tamara."

Gunther glares angrily. "Did I ask you to interrupt me?"

"But you —"

"But nothing. I was nice enough to give you 2 days off and you spit in my face and take a week? And then you expect me to baby sit your reject kid?"

Corey holds back his rage. "Well what am I supposed to do?"

"Get rid of it."

"You can't be serious."

"Fine. You want to see serious? You're fired. Get the hell out of my sight."

Gunther picks up the phone and dials. "Hey Donny, Cuz. You know that opening that I thought would open up for you? Well guess what?"

Corey turns around and leaves as Gunther blabbers away on the phone.

Months later. He's at home amid a bare house. His daughter in the cot screams, as there is a knock at the door. There is a self-portrait of Tamara in the lounge room. Nothing else is about except some baby essentials and a sheet with one of his jumpers rolled up as a pillow.

He opens up the door to reveal Elizabeth, the old Hag landlord who is the ugliest filthiest woman in the suburb. He looks sad. "Liz I'm so sorry. I just need to sell this painting and then I —"

"Not again Corey. I've had enough. Six months is more than enough time to get your act together and get me the rent money. You either get out tomorrow or I call the cops."

"But my daughter needs —"

Elizabeth leaves. He goes in and gives Suzie a bottle of water. "I'll be back soon baby."

He races out, grabs the painting on the way, locking the door as he leaves.

In the market place, he tries person after person in vain, to get a sale. "Please sir, my wife painted this and died leaving me to look after our baby. I can't afford the rent. You can have it for a thousand dollars."

Over and over again he tries until he cries and gives up.

Walking home, some kids jump out and laugh psychotically at Corey. They surround him. "Welcome to our humble abode. Would you like to pay your rent for the alleyway now or after we bash you?"

"Please no, I don't have any money."

Suddenly the lead thug snatches the painting and keeps Corey from getting it. Corey pleads. "Please don't!"

"What's the matter? You look worried."

"I need it."

"Oh so what will you give me in return."

Corey is silent.

"Maybe you can introduce me —"

"It's my wife. She painted it before she died. It's all I have left."

"Wrong. You still have your arms and legs."

Suddenly the thug smashes the painting over Corey's head. He's in shock at the loss as they kick into him, but he doesn't notice them bashing him. He just stares at the torn painting as his head bounces around from the blows.

Urine starts to pour over him and the painting.

Blood has pooled under his head. He twitches trying to move. A sweet looking little girl approaches. He struggles to say, "Please... help... me..."

She smiles at him, hocks a gorby, and slags a slimy land oyster onto Corey's pleading face. It slides down his bloody face like a slug. She laughs and leaves him for dead.

Numerous people walk past and stare but none stop.

He sees the torn fragments of the painting. There is a fraction which is still distinguishable — half of his wife's face.

He strains to crawl to it. He grabs it. Courage builds and he stands with the fragment. He roars in agony but makes it to his feet. He struggles to limp out of the alleyway people avoid him by crossing the street.

He gets back home and opens the door leaving blood on the wall. Inside, he approaches the cot. Suzie is asleep and he freaks out until Suzie smiles a dream smile. He goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up using his shirt as a rag. He painfully crawls into bed.

Bang bang bang! The knock at the door wakes Suzie who cries aloud.

Corey wakes up and looks at the door with torment and dread.

Liz bellows "Corey open the bloody door."

He ignores her. She yells "Fine. I warned you."

A key unlocks the door. Suddenly police come in with batons raised. "Stop resisting!"

Corey raises his hand to protect his face. "Please, no, don't —"

The cops start bashing him. "I said stop resisting!"

One cop gets bored of bashing him as he hears the baby crying. He grabs the other officer's arm. "Hey that's enough."

The other officer stops bashing Corey. "Get your ugly face out of my sight before I lock you up for loitering.

Corey struggles to stand and picks up his bedding. He then goes and pick up Suzie. At that instant, Liz pushes him towards the door.

Out in the street, Liz pushes Corey and he falls back but manages to hold Suzie safe. Little Suzie still bawls her eyes out. Liz leaves him there. The cops stand over him. "Get up punk. Remember. Loitering. And you call yourself a father. You don't deserve that kid."

Corey gets up and starts walking away. The cops laugh as they leave.

In the street at a school, Corey sees a nice car pull up. Inside the car is a little girl, her loving mother, and her father. The clothes are all neat and nice. The father wears a suit. They all get out and the little girl races up to her father who hands her all her brand new school gear. She kisses her parents and then skips off into the school yard, waving to her popular friends. He then spots a young boy who looks sick, with torn clothes, being pushed around by bullies who laugh and tease him.

Corey's sadness transfers from the bullied kid down to Suzie. His face contorts as tears burst forth.

Soon he staggers through the hospital doors. Annette, a 35 year old nurse sees Corey approaching. "I'm sorry sir but you will have to make an appointment."

"I suppose I need insurance to give my child up for adoption?"

Annette is stunned. "You can't do that sir."

"Just try to stop me bitch."

He rests Suzie down on the waiting room couch, wrapped in a slightly bloody shirt. She squeezes his finger and he cries. In the shirt, he tucks in Suzie's birth certificate and a note. "Dear Suzie. Forgive me. But I don't know if I can survive the streets, let alone you survive them. I gave up everything trying to save you. You are all I have left and I can't let you die. Now you can have the life I could never give you. I love you more than life itself. Your father forever. Corey."

Tears pour from his eyes. He kisses Suzie's forehead before he turns and storms out. Annette grabs him. "I'll have you arrested if you abandon that child."

"Let go of me before I punch you. If you want me arrested, fine. I'll be on the street."

He breaks free and storms out.

He limps into the homeless slums and other homeless people peer out of their boxes at him. It starts to rain. He sits down on an alleyway doorstep trying to stay out of the rain as he tries to relax into his new home.

Years later, Suzie is 24. She looks amazing as she steps out of a limo. A homeless man races up to her with a filthy mug. "Change? Spare change?"

Anger wells in her eyes. "Piss off you... you... thing."

From the other side of the limo, Charles, the 40 year old butler, Suzie's protector and servant, suddenly stands. "Suzie... Be polite. For all you know he could be your father."

Suzie screws up her face at the thought. "As if."

Corey, now an old seasoned homeless man, watches from a distance and has a few mates around him. Tom tries to keep his formal British pose with his tatty suit and top hat. "Sir Corey, why must you torment yourself like this?"

Pups, the youngest of them all has a speech impediment. He's a good kid though, and tries to look like a gangster. "Hey fo—ged 'bout it nee—gar"

Corey watches her walk inside a rich building.

That night, Corey camps across the street from her house in an alleyway. Tom and Pups stand up and approach him. Tom stops just in front of Corey. "Pups and I would like to take leave. It is getting cold and we want to get back home."

"You go. I —"

Suddenly Suzie's aggravated roar yells. "Fine! I'll friggin' walk!"

The three of them turn to see Suzie storming out, dressed up for a party. She enters the street and starts heading through the dangerous neighborhood.

Corey sneaks out of the alleyway and follows her. Pups races up to him. "Wassup!"

"Shhhh. I don't want her to know I'm here."

Tom steps up to him. "You will bring trouble upon us all."

"I just want to make sure she's alright."

"At our expense I see."

"Well... you two go back and I'll catch up with you soon."

He looks at Pups. "I'll see you later ok?"

Corey races off as Pup watches. "Late—ar bow."

Tom leads Pups down the alley and Corey follows Suzie, covertly, like an assassin.

Up further, Suzie spins around rapidly to see if she is being followed but Corey darts out of view before he is spotted. She continues, warily.

Soon paranoia grips her and she goes around the block and hastily heads back home.

She reaches the luxurious steps of her place and races up the stairs. She bashes on the door, looking back towards the street. Corey watches from a distance, unable to see clearly what's going on.

Suddenly the door bursts open and she stumbles inside, panting. Charles sees she is freaked. "What's wrong?"

She tries to hide her fear. "Nothing."

"I know you better than that."

She gulps. "It's just that I feel like I'm being stalked."

"Maybe we should call the police."

Her eyes dart in thought as she storms toward the dining room. "Nar it's ok."

Bang! Someone outside the dining room window. Charles darts out the front door.

Like a savage rugby player, he tackles Corey to the ground and locks him in a Judo hold. Corey screams in agony as Suzie steps out and looks at the filthy perverted homeless guy — Corey, her father.

She calls out. "Alright! I'll call the police!"

She starts heading inside. "If he stops screaming, you aren't holding him tight enough!"

Her foster grandma pulls up to see what's going on. It's Annette but much older. She sees the police. She gets out of the car and walks up to Suzie and Charles who talk to police. "I came as soon as I could. What happened?"

Suzie shows a quick smile. "Hey Gran. This lowlife pervert has been stalking me."

She points. Gran sees Corey in cuffs being thrown into the back of a divvy van. She faces Suzie. "Suzie, go inside right now."

Gran approaches the policeman. "Officer, I know this man."

She walks up to Corey. "Ironic. I can now have you arrested... How dare you come back here? You gave up your right years ago."

Corey has a good look at her. "The Bitch."

"Annette to you, punk."

Corey sees Suzie approaching. He starts getting anxious and shoulders a cop. "Come on you pigs. You better lock me up right now and throw away the key."

One officer pulls the cuffs up his back. "Shut your friggin' mouth!"

He struggles as Suzie gets closer. "What's going on?"

Annette turns and starts pushing Suzie back towards the house. "This doesn't concern you."

"No! Don't you dare say that. I'm the one being stalked."

Corey says to the cops. "Hurry up pigs! Or have the donuts made you too fat and weak?"

Annette places herself between Suzie and Corey. "I'll handle this Suzie."

Corey looks up at Suzie as he hears her name, his eyes pained with affection. Suzie sees his expression. Corey sees her curiosity. She confronts Annette. "Who is he?"

Corey gets anxious. "Get me out of here now!"

Suzie storms toward the cops pushing Annette back but Annette stands her ground. Suzie yells. "Who the hell is he and why the hell is he stalking me!"

Corey struggles to get to the divvy van. "Now, you friggin' pigs."

Suzie slaps Annette and the cops stop looking at her. Annette stops stunned. Suzie looks at her with anger. "Tell me now!"

Annette apologetically looks at Corey. He gives her the evil eye. "Don't you dare."

Annette looks down at the ground. "Suzie, this is your father."

Corey's rage builds. "You bitch!"

Annette screams back, "Bitch? At least I'm not loser."

"Shut up!"

The cops start pushing him.

Annette grins evilly. "I did more than you ever could."

"Shut the hell up you callous bitch —"

His rage is interrupted as Suzie burst into tears. He looks at her as a tear runs down his cheek. Annette yells abuse but he doesn't notice, as he watches Suzie unable to take it anymore and she runs inside to escape. The cops throw him in the van.

The next day, Suzie pulls out the old letter left to her from Corey. She tears up as she reads the tattered note. She pulls herself together wiping the tears away. Determination sets in. She puts it away in her secret box and then heads for the door, grabbing her jacket. She's on a mission.

Downstairs, she marches towards the door as Annette spots her. "Where are you going?"

Suzie opens the door and then pauses in the doorway looking back. "None of your business."

The door slams shut.

At the police station, Suzie walks up to the counter. "Excuse me officer but I am hoping you can help me find a homeless man."

The officer looks at her as if she's insane and laughs. "You're kidding right?"

"No."

"Lady go home and stop wasting our time."

Anger wells as she storms out the door.

In the streets, she searches. Alleyways, subways, abandoned buildings. She asks homeless people if they know him. She gives up and saunters away.

Despondent, she walks past an alley. Voices echo. She glances down as she stops. She hears the voice. "Yo Home—eee we chill—en bow."

Corey, Pups and Tom step around into view as Corey chuckles. "You want my jacket Pups?"

Corey stops as he sees Suzie up ahead. Pups chuckles. "Since you offer nee—gar."

Pup holds his hand out gesturing: 'Hand it over.'

He notices Corey's trance and looks forward. Tom taps Pups on the shoulder. "Come along lad."

Pups nods at Corey and heads back with Tom. Corey then saunters up to Suzie. A silence until he speaks up. "Look I'm really sorry about everything."

She pauses quiet. "I understand —"

"No you don't."

"You had no choice. If you did you would still have a home and a family and a job."

"But I don't."

"I'm here. Your friends are there... I want to... I want to get to know you."

His heart churns with pain as he struggles to keep his composure. "I'm... I'm not worthy —"

"You're my father. I want to know my father. Won't you at least grant me that?"

After a tormented pause, glancing at her pleading eyes, he reluctantly nods.

She smiles slightly. "I have something for you. It's not much but it's the least I can do."

"What?"

"Come for a walk."

She slowly leads, and he reluctantly follows.

In a middle class suburb, they step onto a driveway. She stops. He wonders what she is waiting for looking at her curiously. "You ok?"

"Fine. What do you think?"

"Of what?"

She points at the house. "You like it?"

"It's a house."

"Yours."

Corey pauses, stumped. She holds out the keys. "It's fully furnished and I have set it up so all the payments are taken directly out of your bank account."

"What is this?"

"It's your new home. You and your friends can stay here."

She holds out the bank card. "And here is money for you to buy anything you need."

He shies away. "I didn't ask for this."

"You didn't have to."

"What if I don't want it?"

"Well it's there for you. Do what you want but it's your chance. Please, take it."

He faces her. "Why?"

"That note had an amazing father. Don't you want to have the chance to get back what you've lost?

"I'll never get it back."

"You can get some things back. Please? For me?"

He thinks, perplexed, then looks up at her pleading eyes. He sighs and grabs the keys and the card. "Well I'll give it a try... for you."

She smiles. "Well I'll give you some time to get settled in. I'll be back in a couple of months."

"What?"

"I'm sorry but I have to go overseas. It's business. But it's just this once. Plus it will give you time to get used to things.

He half smiles, something he hasn't done in a long time. "Well I guess we can see what happens when you get back."

They smile at each other as they both head to go into the house.

That night, it's dark, quiet, and lonely in the house. He wanders around looking at stuff, touching things. In the bathroom, he hesitates then awkwardly runs a shower. He adjusts some new clean clothes which he wears. He cuts his beard and tries out an electric shaver.

Bed time and he lays on the bed, unable to sleep. He gets up, pulls the sheets off the bed, and curls up on the floor. Now he can sleep.

Through a period of time, Suzie goes to meetings. Corey has his friends move in. Suzie stays at a exclusive hotel. Corey pulls heaps of money out and fans it with eyes wide. Suzie works hard in an office. Corey and his friends have pizzas and many other types of food, pigging out. Suzie goes to another meeting and she is stressed with negotiations. Corey's place is getting messy with rubbish in the lounge room and dirty clothes. The lawn has grown long. Suzie gets back to the hotel room after a hard day's work.

Annette drives past Corey's place and is stunned by the mess. Suzie smiles and nods in agreement at a meeting. Annette storms up to the front door with Charles passively trying to stop her. Suzie shakes hands with the man at the meeting. Annette finishes abusing Corey, who looks down in shame.

Suzie, alone in the meeting room, sighs and closes up her briefcase. Pleased with herself, she struts out the door. Corey stands at the door as Pups and Tom leave. Corey looks up at Charles who shakes his head in disgust before leaving.

Corey has his stuff as he locks up the house, looks at it sadly, and leaves.

At the letter box of Annette's house, Corey places the keys and the bank card inside. He walks away.

Pups and Tom in the Alley, smile as Corey turns up with a smile. Suzie arrives at Annette's place and sees the gloomy look on the Charles' face.

Inside, Annette is sitting down at the table eating dinner. It's peaceful with nice music. Suddenly Suzie's angry voice echoes in the halls. Loud hasty footsteps introduce Suzie as she bursts into the room. Rage in her eyes, she slams the keys and the card on the table. "You had no right!"

Annette replies. "He destroyed that beautiful home. He abused your generosity. He doesn't deserve that place and he knew it."

Suzie stammers before storming off out the door.

She drives along the streets, checking the alleys.

After a while, she parks and looks down, sad. It's late. She sighs, giving up. She puts it into gear and looks over her shoulder to watch out for traffic.

Suddenly she glimpses Pups behind a dumpster.

She jumps out of the car and slams the door. She runs across the road. Screech! A car locks up the wheels, hurtling towards her. She screams. Thump! She falls to the ground. Whoosh! The car barely misses her. She turns to see Corey getting up. He worriedly looks her over. "Are you ok?"

"Jesus. I... Yeah I think so."

She stands and looks at her grazed palms.

He can't look her in the eye. "You should go. You don't belong here."

"And neither do —"

"I'm a bum. That's me. It's my life. I can't change. I've been this way for 23 years. I'm used to it."

She looks sad. "Come back with me and I'll look —"

"To where? The mansion? Yeah Annette would love that wouldn't she?.. I don't belong there. I never will. This is my home."

He points to a bin. "That's my takeaway shop."

He looks at her with pleading eyes. "Please, just forget about me. Marry a good man and have a good life."

"But —"

"Please!"

A tear runs down her face. He looks back to see the cardboard boxes and the homeless people. Pups and Tom glance sadly at her.

She turns and gets back in her car, starting the motor. She looks at him one last time before driving off.

In the living room, Annette and Suzie are arguing. Suzie turns harshly with a somewhat scary determination in her eyes. "I don't care how much it costs. I'm doing this."

Annette backs away, somewhat scared, but also hate—filled.

Months later, Suzie directs a foreman on blueprints. Workmen and trucks are working in an open field on the outskirts of the city. She smiles.

Homeless people in an alleyway, go about their business. Some coughs are heard. Suzie walks down the alley with her photo of Corey, asking people if they have seen him.

Over and over, they shake their heads, apologetically. One smiles and nods, pointing down the street.

Corey picks through a bin. He finds a sandwich half soaked in Coke. He pulls the soggy bread off and looks at the messy food. He looks stressed as he stares at the dirty bread. He sighs as his eyes glimpse a magazine. It shows a photo of a loving couple in front of a lovely home with a darling little baby in the mother's arms.

His face contorts with stress as a tear escapes down his cheek.

Suddenly, he freaks out as a hand touches his shoulder.

It's Suzie. She shyly smiles. "Hey."

He looks tormented. "I thought I told you not to come back here."

"You did but can't a daughter be a little rebellious?"

He smiles a little, then his eyes dart in thought. "Why?"

"I don't care if you are different. You are still my father."

"But I have nothing I can offer you."

"You can be happy for me."

"It's not that easy."

Homeless people, Corey's friends, start to gather around. He continues. "We aren't like you. We can't handle the normal life. We can't handle money or a house. We can't handle responsibility. This is our life."

Suzie smiles. "Well how about this. Come for a ride with me. I have something to show you. No pressure ok?"

He thinks, suspicious. He looks back at the others to see what they think. Some show contemplation, frown and nod. Others smile. Pups holds up a rap concert hand symbol. Tom gives a thumbs up.

He looks back at Suzie with a half smile. "When?"

"Now."

She walks out and Corey follows to see a limousine. She gestures to hop aboard.

The limo drives to the outskirts of a semi—rich part of town. There is some beautiful countryside in the distance. There are some really nice small buildings, strange though. They are all along side with lane ways between each small building. Awnings are large and there are numerous, bin—like drums around but brand new.

The limo pulls up. They get out and move over under and awning out the front of the complex.

Corey looks around, "So what are you going to show me?"

She replies. "This."

She gestures to the buildings. He looks around confused. "What?"

She walks into one of the alleyways and they step up to what appears to be a royal dog kennel. It's got blankets and a pillow. Clothes are there. He looks up and notices that the alleyways are lined with them. Every so often there are elegant drums with piles of fire wood nearby. The awnings cover the small bedding areas.

Corey looks on astonished. "I can't do this."

Suzie's smile fades. "But why?"

"You don't understand. I can't leave. My alley is my home. My street friends are my family."

"But this is for you and all your friends. It's everything you already have but royal style."

"But we can't buy food."

"You get your food from a bin right?"

She gestures to a bin. He wanders over and opens it. It's a fridge with food packs stacked up inside.

She smiles. "Tell us what you want to be thrown out and we can arrange it for you."

He shakes his head. "I can't. Just... Just take me home."

She sadly nods.

The limo pulls up at the alley and Corey gets out. He watches Suzie's saddened face as the limo drives away leaving him there.

His friends come out. Tom walks up to Corey. "What happened?"

"She... she made up a whole complex of royal style alleyways. She expects us to move."

Voices mummer. Tom gazes curiously. "You mean just like this alley but nice and clean?"

"Yeah."

"Beds?"

"It's got everything. The bins are fridges full of food. Instead of cardboard boxes, they are tiny isolated bedrooms which are a fraction bigger. Like dog kennels for humans."

Tom replies. "She loves you Corey. Give her a chance."

Corey looks down in thought as he walks away.

Days later, Suzie sits outside the alleyway complex. She sighs sadly. Suddenly Annette steps up beside her. Annette notices she is sad. "Cheer up. We can't have everything perfect."

Suzie smiles slightly. "I know. But I was really hoping to have the plasma screen working already."

Annette smiles. "I'll get it sorted for you. You have stuff to do."

Corey steps up dressed in nice neat clothes. He smiles at Annette who smiles back. He offers his hand to Suzie and smiles. "Do you need a hand up little Missy?"

She smiles. "That would be wonderful Dad."

She grabs his hand and stands with his help. They all walk over to a large park—like working area, where all Corey's street friends are sitting down working on a huge quilt. They stop and cheer, clapping as Suzie approaches. Corey smiles. "Well Suzie, let's get to work."

Suzie and Corey walk over and help up his friends for the party.

The celebration continues as Charles, the butler, stands there watching with a grin from ear to ear. "What a beautiful day."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"A homeless widower man has to give his daughter up for adoption. Years later, she is mega rich and finds him and tries to help him back into society but he can't fit in and returns to his street family. She then gives him and the rest of the people on the street a present. Street life where they have a mansion like street to live on."

Drama is all about sadness. It's not the best for marketing since Action, Thriller, and Comedy are the most successful. Drama can still be extremely powerful though. It can have people watching and blown away by the emotional power of the events. Often, dramas are great for keeping budgets down. This is a big reason why the Australian market is full of drama these days. They don't give out enough money to make epic action a popular Australian genre.

Drama is all about pulling those heart strings. I open with an epic torturous event for my main character. I then use that as a catalyst of his demise into more and more emotional pain. It's crucially his wound.

From there, he has a stigma that he is not good enough to be a father, and that he's a failure, which has him institutionalized to the world of homelessness. An even greater sadness. Sometimes people know one world for so long, they don't know how to live any other way.

You can take them through this incredibly powerful emotion for a while but you really need to have huge elements of hope to keep the emotional rollercoaster going. In the end I have the high of them both being able to have a much brighter future leaving the reader with a positive feeling that something good has happened or something good will happen. That way they can have something to be happy about.

That's all the genre stories I did. I could have done Heist and Zombie, etc, but I wanted to stick to the main ones that people are most familiar with. I now repeat my Sci—Fi genre with: Black Out.

Concept: A scientist wants to stabilize a nano—blackhole, which he created in a particle accelerator, but a saboteur sets it on a path to engulf the world.

Contents

BLACK OUT

Sometime in the future, in a seminar, David Cassidy, aged 87, blabbers on to four disinterested people, discussing meaningless figures. "So you see, the 22 D multiplier transfers the subsequent refraction numerator."

One of the disinterested men gets up. "You're behind the times old man. You can't stop the future."

The man and his mates get up and leave.

David is a little disheartened but he looks down at his paperwork and smiles. He packs up and saunters up the aisle. A girl stands up near the exit.

Janice, a 14 year old student still in her school clothes, is shy and awe inspired by his presence.

Dave slows as he sees her, with a gaze like he's known her all his life. He gulps and looks at her. "Well... hello there young lady."

"Hello Mr Cassidy... Don't let them get to you. You are an inspiration and a good man."

"Thank you... It's ok... I've had a fantastic life..."

He builds up his courage and looks at her with serious eyes. "Do you know a supernova blast can be diverted with an anti—antimatter shield if you reverse the polarity of the shield generator?"

"What?"

"You should listen better, Janice."

Janice is taken aback by his comment. He continues with a stern gaze. "Do you know a supernova blast can be diverted with an anti—antimatter shield if you reverse the polarity of the shield generator?"

"No I didn't know that..."

Her curiosity grows. "How did you know my name?"

He sighs. "Wait for the flash."

He steps closer, making her uncomfortable. She steps back. He pauses, apologetic. She breaks the silence. "I should go."

He smiles. "It's great to see you again Janice. Take care."

She turns and leaves.

Years later, in the brand new control room of the Large Hadron Collider 2.0, the biggest particle accelerator in the world, scientists scurry about in preparation. The humungous magnets hum as they perform a new experiment.

Dave, 28, the head scientist looks at a computer read—out. He pats his brother, Sam, 25, on the shoulder. "Start it up Sam."

"If only mum could see us now."

Dave smiles and turns to point at a Perspex box which contains an old, 5cm round, metal plate. "That there is what gave me the Nobel Prize. The first ever Antimatter Shield plate."

He glances back with a smile at the wide eyed, awe inspired Janice, who is now a 22 year old, newbie scientist, being shown the ropes. "It's beautiful."

Dave smiles at Janice. "That's nothing compared to seeing inside a black hole. That's my ultimate dream."

"You can't be serious."

"We are looking at stabilising a nano—black—hole right now. I bet old Grandpa David Cassidy, never would have expected —"

She steps around to face him, in disbelief. "You're saying the guy who helped create the first ever Antimatter generator is your grandfather?"

He smiles. "You know your history."

"I met your Grandad just before he died. He told me a supernova blast can be diverted with an anti—antimatter shield if you reverse the polarity of the shield generator."

"Yeah but he was a bit spaced out in those last few months. He always used to say, creating the Antimatter generator was the best thing that ever happened to him, but he would give it all away for one last look at the love he lost the night he arrived."

"Arrived where?"

"I don't know. That's a mystery. Much of his life was a mystery."

A large clunk sounds as people start to prepare. He whispers to Janice. "We are about to stabilize the first black hole. In general, the earth is positively charged, so we create a positively charged cone of antimatter so that the black hole won't fall through the bottom of the collider. It's safe though since before it gets too big, we inject the event horizon with an explosion of dark matter which creates —"

"A cute little nano—supernova."

He smiles at her. "You're going to do well here."

Suddenly, Dave sees a man outside standing near the detectors. "Jesus. Security! Get that man out of there now!"

Two security men charge in. The man half heartedly fights with pathetic punches, trying not to be apprehended. Suddenly, they grab him and pull him up the stairs to the control station. Dave looks straight into the guy's eyes. It's Anthony, 27, Dave's arch rival from the university. Dave recognizes him. "Anthony Satur. You're still a thorn in my side."

Anthony glares at Dave. "You're going to kill us all."

Dave bites back. "We are going to save the world. No longer will pollution be a problem when we can condense it into nano—black—holes."

"And I suppose humans and cities are considered pollution too?"

"You'll see. We're about to create the first one right now."

A worker starts counting down from 10.

Dave smiles. "You can't stop us."

"That's what you think."

Dave looks at Anthony's evil smile. Dave starts to worry. He looks down at the collider detector. Anthony starts laughing.

Sam counts down. "3, 2, 1," as Dave's eyes widen in fear. "Shut it —"

BOOM! The detector explodes tearing through the control room.

Dave wakes up, blood trickling down his face. He sees Anthony stagger out, fleeing the scene of the crime. Dave turns to see Janice panting, in shock, but she's ok. She just can't stop staring to the side. Dave follows her gaze to see Sam, lying dead on the floor with a chunk of steel embedded in his chest. "Sam... Oh God no Sam!"

He races over to Sam and touches him looking for a sign of life. Soon the reality sinks in. In his despair, Dave glances around. He sees the small antimatter shield plate on the floor.

Years later, the small antimatter shield plate is around his neck as an amulet, slightly showing through the top of his filthy shirt. His face is dirty and he looks like he's aged much more than the years gone by. Patchy beard stubble from half hearted shaving attempts. He's basically a bum on the street.

Rage builds up as he yells over and over, "No more research! We're not God!"

The chant combines with the other protestors yelling as they picket the new collider complex. A car approaches the gate and people start bashing the windows. Dave hits the bonnet until he sees Janice in the passenger seat. He then stares at her with a connection that blocks out the rest of the world. Suddenly, reality hits as she drives through the gate and he joins back into the protestors' chant.

He sees her getting out of the car. As she looks over at him, she gestures, tilting her head toward the side entrance area. He glances over, then looks back at Janice and nods. She walks off and he sneaks away from the crowd. Anthony is at the back of the crowd and watches Dave leaving the group.

Dave walks up to the fence and sees Janice. He pauses, shy, as they both approach each other. Face to face at the fence, she looks apologetic. He looks at her as if betrayed. "Why?"

"Dave, you had a dream of a better world. They want me to head the project and I want to fulfill your dream —"

"NO!... You can't do this. It's too dangerous."

"But nothing will go wrong. We have many more safety measures —"

"That's what I thought. You can't guarantee —"

"I'm not going to stop just because you are scared —"

"I'm not scared!"

They pause as he calms from his outburst. She looks at him sorrowfully. "I know you lost your brother and that can't be easy."

"You have no idea."

"I know... But your vision of a better world isn't going to die with your brother."

He looks at her with a cold gaze of all being lost. "You're right. It will die with the rest of the planet."

She looks at him with disdain, turns and walks away. He calls out. "Don't do it Janice, it's too risky!"

Anthony watches from the bushes and evilly smiles. As Dave walks away, Anthony scales the fence and looks at his destination — the new collider facility.

Inside, Janice powers up the machine. She glances up at her pompous old boss, George, 66, who smiles. Dougy, 29, a scientist, counts. "Stability nominal. 35 seconds. 278 Mevs."

She grins. "prepare the collapse."

Dougy pushes a few buttons and then waits. "Collapsing in 3, 2, 1, collapsing."

He looks at the big red dark matter injection button then pushes it.

Inside the collider where a stream of pin—head sized, galaxy—shaped white cloud spirals from a white nozzle, into the nano black hole. To the side, the black, syringe—like Dark Matter Injector moves closer to the black hole. A burst of dark cloud shoots like a mini shot gun, from the end of the syringe—like needle, into the black hole. With a bright flash, the black hole is gone.

Dougy smiles at her. "Mev count zero. Test successfully completed."

She smiles as the workers start to celebrate. In the confusion of the noise, Anthony walks up to the back of the collider outer chamber. He quietly opens the inspection door to expose the core chamber.

As he opens his pocket knife, he looks over the core and sees the dark matter injector protruding from it. Beside that is the Mev counter which detects the mass of the black holes. He smiles.

Suddenly, he reaches out with the knife and stabs the dark matter injector, punching a hole in the side which points straight at the Mev counter. After a callous pause, he closes his knife and the inspection door. He scurries away into the darkness.

While they go over the data, George opens his office door and yells. "Ok everyone! I want to prepare for another test! This time I want 20 minutes!"

Janice turns and looks up at him. "Sir that's not scheduled for another week!"

"Well you are going to be ahead of schedule by a week aren't you?"

He grins and goes back into his office. Janice turns to the scientist. "Dougy what do you think?"

"It's hard to tell. We won't have the 5 minute data but it's designed to handle an hour. It's your call."

She gulps and looks up at George who looks at her through the office window. He nods. She sighs. "Fine. Set it for 20 minutes! I want total focus on the Antimatter field! If the gravity exceeds the mid level threshold, I want it shut down! Am I clear?"

A chorus of voices call out in unison. "Crystal!"

The machines are powered up, humming.

A screen shows the core of the chamber with the injectors. A flash as the particles collide with the miniature power of the big bang.

Dougy looks up from the screen. "Black Hole Initiated. Stability 78%."

Janice walks around the computers looking. "Let's lock it in."

With the scientists pushing more buttons, Dougy looks at the screen. "Stability 100%."

Janice walks up to Dougy. "Feed him up Dougy. But don't let it exceed 20,OO0 mevs. I don't want to risk a run—away."

Later, Janice is pacing the room. Some clunks sound and the generators labor under the power. On the screen, Dougy sees the microscopic black spot in the center of the miniature spiral cloud. "I can see the event horizon."

Janice races over to look. She adores it like a baby. "It's beautiful."

A louder clunk sounds. People get a bit worried. Janice looks at Dougy. "Stats."

"Stability nominal. 13 minutes and 31 seconds. 1893 Mevs. Can we shut it down now?"

Janice looks at George who watches as he sips his coffee with a smile.

The dark matter injector sits calmly with the knife—hole ominously waiting. Suddenly, a tremor starts shaking the complex.

Outside, the protestors all go fearfully quiet as they feel the vibrations. Dave looks at the complex with dread in his eyes. "Oh God."

Dougy is stunned. He rapidly hits the keys. "Jesus the Mev count just spiked. We're at 2112."

Janice sternly yells. "Blow it."

"I'm way ahead of ya."

He types more. Vibrations shake Dougy's coffee cup off the table and it smashes.

The dark matter injector vibrates at the core and the hole from the knife looms large.

People outside start panicking as the tremors grow.

Dougy finishes typing and he looks at the dark matter injection button. The knife hole shakes more. Dougy pushes the button.

Instantly, a cloud of dark matter bursts like a shot gun blast, out the side of the knife hole, blowing the Mev counter to bits.

The crunch shocks through the system. Sparks burst from consoles and George spills his coffee all over himself.

Dougy scrambles for a fire extinguisher. He puts out the flames on a terminal.

Janice is freaking out. "God damn it. Tell me that Mev count is zero."

Dougy heads over to the computer with the static screen. He starts typing. "We've lost the main systems. I'll access the backup system."

He hits the enter key and a progress bar comes up on the screen. Janice yells "Give me a status now!"

He's anxious. He hits enter a few more times. "Come on you bitch."

Suddenly, the progress bar flies across the screen and a series of graphs are displayed. He runs his finger across to the Mev graph and sees it's at Zero. He smiles and sighs with relief. "Zero Mevs. It collapsed. We did it."

Janice smiles until she is startled by George's outburst. "Janice! You better hope you didn't damage anything. If anything goes wrong, I'm holding you personally responsible."

"But Sir I —"

"No buts. I want you out there telling the press nothing is wrong, while we clean up this mess."

"But Sir —"

"Now Janice!"

Janice starts to grab her gear as she leaves. Doug watches her leave.

And she walks out to her car, Dave calls from the other side of the fence. "Janice!"

She turns to see him, she thinks, then saunters over. "You can't keep doing this Dave. They'll lock you up."

"Tell me you're quitting the project."

"You're insane."

"I felt the shake. You have to stop this before something goes wrong."

"Something already went wrong."

"What happened?"

"Go home Dave."

She turns away and walks back to her car. He starts shaking the fence. "Janice! It's inevitable! You play with fire and you get burned!"

She doesn't answer him. He pauses watching. He then vigorously shakes the fence. "What the hell happened?"

A maintenance man is working inside the inspection chamber. "pressurize it, Jim!"

Suddenly, a rush of air sounds as he watches through the inspection window. He notices a white dot form in the center.

CRACK! The seal breaks as he pulls the vacuum cover off the core chamber. He moves it gently to the side as a hiss sounds. He places it down as he looks at the white dot with awe. "Hey Jim! Come take a look at this!"

The man waits. He moves in closer and can faintly see a macro tornado. His curiosity spikes. He reaches out with his finger. Closer.

As he gets very close, magnet—like, his finger gets caught in the gravitational field and dramatically speeds up until he touches it. Instantly, he jerks his finger back.

He looks at it with awe as he has no idea blood is dribbling from a round divot in his finger where the micro black hole spaghettified a chunk out of his flesh.

He reaches up and scratches his nose. Not realising he is wiping blood over his face. As he pulls his finger away, he holds his finger still with the feeling that something is wrong. He notices the red color and focuses of the blood. "Jesus Christ!"

He then looks between the black hole and his finger. Fear grips him. He darts back, spilling out of the inspection hole. He looks into the chamber.

Jim steps up and sees the man. "Bob are you alright?"

Bob looks at him, terrified. He looks back at the black hole. As it sucks in more air, it becomes visible from where he is on his back. Terror grips him and he scrambles to his feet, fleeing in terror. Jim gulps and looks inside at the ominous white dot of air rushing into the rapidly growing black hole.

Janice opens the door to her apartment and saunters in, lethargic. She shuts the door and shuffles over to her couch where she slumps herself down, pondering the terrible day she's had. She sighs as she grabs the remote and turns the TV on. A comedy show laughs but she doesn't even crack a smile.

BANG BANG BANG! The door knock startles her. She dreads the thought of getting up and answering the door. The knock calls again. She sighs and stands, then saunters over to the door. "Alright alright!

She opens to door to see Dave. She rolls her eyes. "Oh God no."

"I've got a bad feeling Janice. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

She turns and walks away letting him in. "Get over it already."

"You don't understand. It only takes one accident and you doom us —"

Janice spins around with a stern gaze. "Why me?"

Dave pauses, put on the spot. "What?"

"George is the decision maker. Why come to me?"

Dave looks nervous. "We... um... I can talk to you. You...you respect me."

"You are the best physicist I know but you have to stop hassling me. I'm in there doing my best to make sure it's safe. If I'm not in there, someone else is. And who knows how useless they will be. Do you understand?"

"I know but I just don't want to see things go wrong. I don't want to lose..."

"To lose what?"

"My brother was the only person I ever cared about. When I lost him to that damn experiment, I thought I had nothing else to lose. But you know that's not true don't you?"

"I'm ok. Nothing bad will —"

Suddenly, her phone rings. She looks at Dave apologetically. Dave smiles and nods that it's ok. She answers. "Yeah hello?"

Doug is on the other end of the call. "Janice, get back here now."

"Doug what's wrong?"

"Maintenance found a small problem."

"How small?"

"Well it was smaller before it spaghettified a chunk from Bob's finger."

"That's not funny Doug."

"I'm not laughing Janice. Why are you still there?"

"Oh Jesus."

She instantly hangs up and rushes to prepare. Dave pauses, sits there, with growing realization. Janice looks at him. Wondering what he's doing. He states with a monotone, "It only takes one accident to doom us all."

The machine is creaking and the wind is vicious.

George is frantically darting between computer screens with panic in his eyes. Janice steps in to see the frenzy. She gulps. "God help us."

George spots her. "What the hell took you so long?! You should have fixed this by —"

"Shut up George!"

George calms a little. He steps up to her. "What are you going to do?"

She looks at him stern. "Ask Dave."

Dave steps in through the door and sees the carnage. Everyone stares at him. "Are you all going to listen to me now?"

With no complaints, he instantly gets to work. "Janice, get me a status on the projected mass based on the exposure time to atmosphere. I want to know how much time we have left before we lose our window."

He walks over to Dougy, "Dougy, Janice said you are a genius at reading stats. So I'm trusting you to give me all the data I need, the instant I need it. Got it?"

He turns to George. "Pull yourself together George. From what I can gather, there are damaged components. So you're going to make sure I get all the equipment I need, the instant I need it. Starting with a rope, right now!"

"What for?"

"Someone is going in to shut that inspection door."

Everyone balks at the idea. Dave sighs. George sees Dave getting ready. "No."

Dave stops. George steps forward. "You know more about how to stop this than anyone. I know the design, but that's it. This is my job. I'll do it."

Everyone droops with a sense of doom.

The wind is vicious as it sucks into the inspection window. George steps closer as the wind grabs him and pulls him towards the vortex. The slack of the rope slides around the pole which holds up the steel stairs. He gains speed hurtling towards the chamber. He yells with fear. "Ahhhhhhhhh!"

He's about to smash into the chamber when suddenly the rope pulls tight. He jerks back, hanging from the rope where his feet dangle sideways pointing towards the gravitational pull of the black hole. He looks up the rope at the stairs where Dave and a few others struggle, pulling the rope, holding George up. "Lower me down slow!"

They start lowering him sideways into the chamber. The wind tears at his clothes as he struggles to push his legs out to the side around the inspection window. His feet touchdown. "Wooo!"

The others hold the rope tight.

George sees the vicious vortex inside the core. He then reaches down to grab the inspection window door. He pulls, but the gravity makes it extremely hard to move. He strains as his pen falls out of his pocket. He watches as it falls inside, spins like it's in a blender, and dissolves as it moves into the micro black hole, eaten by it's never ending hunger.

George focuses and solidifies his footing. He grunts as he pulls, lifting the door. He slips and the door clunks back with a shudder. He gulps. He tries again, pulling harder. With a grunt of force, he lifts it over and the door slams shut with a boom that scares the hell out of everyone.

The wind stops instantly and George stands up unbalanced as if standing inside a spinning thrill ride, but standing sideways on the core chamber. He looks through the chamber window as the vortex gets smaller and smaller inside as it sucks up all the air. "Have we got a vacuum?!

Dougy looks at the screen. "Jesus, it's chewing up atmosphere at the rate of 4 standard cubic meters per second."

Dave turns to face Dougy. "Have we got a seal?!"

"Yeah it's sealed! Total vacuum in 3, 2, 1,"

George watches the white of the atmosphere disappear into the black hole. Suddenly it stops. All is quiet but the creaking of metal. Dave looks across at Dougy. "Is the antimatter cone stable?"

Dougy replies. "Yeah it's solid as a rock!"

Janice steps forward to look sideways into the core where George stands sideways. Dave looks at Janice. "How solid?"

"Don't worry about the cone. It will hold up long after the building is devoured."

George looks around. He notices the damaged Mev counter. "Get me a Mev counter, and I need a dark matter injector, stat."

Suddenly, a dint forms in a steel box on the side of the core. He pauses. The sound of steel grinding like fingers on a chalkboard makes him wary. "Hurry up!"

Dave walks along, holding the rope, with the cord of the Mev counter in his hand. Closer, the counter starts pulling sideways like a metal chain near a powerful magnet. Dave gulps as he lowers it down. He sees the dint growing in size in the steel.

Dougy looks at the stats. "Hey guys there's something wrong! The Mev counter is jumping exponentially! It's saying it's already 2 trillion Mevs!

Janice watches as the Mev counter is lowered. "That can't be right! The chamber is only rated at 1 trillion!"

George grabs the Mev counter and freezes, as if standing on thin ice. He looks down at the dint which crunches, growing bigger. More steel grinding sounds. "Dark matter NOW!"

Dave starts feeding it down as George slots the Mev counter into place. "What's the Mevs?!"

Dougy gulps. "Jesus. Hey guys, why is the chamber still there?"

Everyone looks worried. Dave yells. "Mev count now!"

Dougy looks at them. "It's off the scale! There's no way the chamber can handle that. Why is it still there?"

George grabs the Dark matter injector. A huge clunk shakes the entire chamber as Dave sees the dint buckling to an extreme. "George, get out of there now."

"No I can do this."

George leans down to swap the dark matter injector over. Dave starts pulling on the rope. "Help me pull him up now!"

They start pulling. George notices them pulling him. He grabs hold and locks himself into position. The others can't pull him up. George grabs the damaged dark matter injector and starts undoing the clips. "I said I can do this!"

Dave sees the dint buckling more and more. "George it's collapsing. You won't make it. We can do it some other —"

"There is no other way!"

George pulls the old dark matter injector off and sees the knife hole. "Jesus. Someone stabbed the dark matter injector. Who would —"

Crunch! George loses his balance and drops the old injector which slams into the side of the core. Dave looks worried as he pulls the rope harder. "Get out of there George!"

"No!"

George slots the dark matter injector into the slot. "It's in."

Dave smiles. "Blow it Dougy!"

Dougy pushes the buttons. The screen shows the countdown. The dark matter injector guides toward the little black dot. Dougy waits. "Collapsing in 3..."

George looks up at Dave with a smile. "I told you I could do —"

Suddenly, the core chamber implodes with a sickening boom which shakes the entire complex.

Outside, Anthony watches and feels the shudder under his feet. He sees the impact tremors as minute waves in a puddle. He smiles.

Dave and the others are pulled off their feet. Shock grips them as they recover from the fall. Dave looks down to see George, molded flat around the ball of steel which used to be the chamber. Blood oozes out over the steel as he becomes flatter and flatter over the surface. "Oh God... George I told you to get out. I told you."

The steel crumples and contracts smaller and smaller. It become rounder and smoother until it fades into a small red ball.

Like a seal being broken on a vacuum sealed container, the steel gives way for the black hole to suck the atmosphere into oblivion. The tornado—like vortex reforms and obscures Dave's view, of the chamber.

They hold onto the stairs as the wind grasps at them like claws from hell. Janice slips she screams as she slides toward the core but Dave grabs her arm. "I've got you!"

The other workers pull themselves to the corridor where the wind is negligible. Dave looks back at a worker who stands there looking on, stricken in fear. Dave calls out. "Help us!"

As his mates run up the corridor, the worker, tormented, turns and flees. Dave sees Dougy starting to move around from the other side of the vortex to save them. Dougy looks over. "I'm coming!"

Dave pulls Janice up to the stairs and then looks back near Dougy to see there's nothing for Dougy to use to get around to them. "Forget it Dougy. Get out of here before it's too late."

"But what about you?"

Dave looks around and sees the tunnel for the particle accelerator tube near the stairs. "We're ok. We'll try to stop it from the old accelerator complex on the other end of the tunnel. It's all going to be —"

Crack, a pipe breaks, spilling liquid Nitrogen over the stairs above them. Dave throws Janice into the tunnel. The freezing fluid freezes the steel as it flows straight towards Dave. He throws himself to the tunnel as the fluid splashes over the pole he was holding onto.

The pole freezes and snaps. The stairs snap and dislodge, pulled in the stream of liquid nitrogen, sucked straight into the black hole where it crashes and smashes more of the particle accelerator into the black hole.

Janice and Dave look out from the tunnel at the carnage. The office where Dougy was, is nowhere to be seen. Dougy has vanished. "Oh Jesus."

Janice starts crying as the wind starts in the tunnel. Her tears run diagonally across her face. Dave empathizes. "Come on Janice. We have to go."

They turn and charge up the tunnel against the growing wind.

Charging through the tunnel, the wind gets harder to run against. A crunch sounds in the background and a cable is pulled up the pipeline, popping off the wall, at a vicious speed, towards them with deadly force.

Dave hears the popping of the clips behind him. The rush of popping pins is getting closer. Dave looks around as he helps Janice to move along.

As he sees the cable popping off the wall, he follows the path along to above their heads. His eyes widen with fear as he grabs Janice and throws her to the floor.

Whip! The cable viciously hits Dave in the shoulder, spinning him around slamming him into the wall. "Ahhhhh!"

Janice freaks out as she tries to work out what has happened. She sees the cable pulling and then whip like a snake as the snapped end hurtles towards her head. She ducks as the blade—like cable whooshes sadistically past her head.

Dave moans in pain. Janice looks around to see him holding his shoulder. "Jesus."

"It's ok. Let's keep going."

They keep going as they hear clunks of metal collapsing and the grinding of metal.

Up further, the wind is getting stronger. They hear a clunking sound as chunks of the particle accelerator are powerfully sucked through the inside of the accelerator tube. They clunk solidly inside as they rattle their way towards oblivion.

The wind is stronger, almost impossible to struggle against. They hold on, pulling themselves onwards, dodging paperwork, boxes, and other loose light stuff that the wind can pick up and toss at them. They see the demolished power box that the cable tore out of.

Up further, they see the exit which leads into the older Particle Accelerator building. With a huge clunk echoing up the tunnel, the wind dramatically grows in strength. Dave's feet slip and dangle in the strong wind. He struggles to hold on.

Suddenly, Janice slips and loses her grip. The wind begins to suck her down the tunnel as if she was in a water slide fun park but Dave grabs her hand with his sore arm. He yells in pain but pushes himself past the point of agony as he pulls her up into his arms and to safety. He pants through the pain. "We don't have much time!"

"I know!"

After a moment of a loving gaze into each other's eyes, Janice then grabs hold of the wall and pulls herself forward. "Hold onto me!"

Dave grabs hold. She sees the exit a few meters ahead, but the debris sand—blasts her face. She closes her eyes and pulls herself forward with determination. "Don't let go of me!"

Closer and closer, pull by pull, but she's getting exhausted. Dave sees her weakening as she just grabs hold of the frame for the exit. She starts to freak out, knowing she's not going to make it. "No. NO!"

Suddenly, Dave psyches himself up and pushes her into the exit with his last ounce of energy. With her safe inside the exit, he relaxes and starts to slip away peacefully towards his death.

A sudden jerk shudders through his body as Janice grabs his arm. He wobbles as he looks up to see Janice gripping him hard. His body dangles in the rush of wind. She screams at him. "Are you going to hang around here all day or are you going to help me save your ass?"

He reaches up in agony with his sore arm and grabs hold. He pulls himself forward as he tries to get a footing. Janice pulls hard and he moves up towards the exit. With his foot finding a bolt to push against, he thrusts himself forward and she pulls him into the room. He pants exhausted as Janice closes the huge steel door which slams shut, effectively rendering the room silent. Dave smiles at her. "What a rush."

Janice helps Dave up and leads him towards the control room tower.

Dave looks at the area still showing the remnants of the explosion that killed his brother. As they walk into the control room, Dave looks at the spot where Sam was laying, dead. The blood stains are still visible even after all these years. Janice touches his shoulder and breaks him from his trance. He sees she is staring with an awestruck gaze. He follows her line of sight through the large windows.

The windows look out over the field to where the new particle accelerator building is. Wind rushes towards it but it's still visible. They watch on at the monstrosity that is before them.

A flash of a red cloud rises before the building collapses and the fireball is sucked back into the hole. Boom! The shock wave hits from the blast.

On the road which exits the main complex, Anthony stands firm with a smile as the shock wave nearly blows him off his feet. A car coming from the complex slides out nearly hitting Anthony who just stands there with a smile. Dougy winds down the car window. "Jesus man. What the hell are you doing?"

Anthony looks at Dougy. "I'm waiting for Dave."

"Forget him. He's gone to the old complex to try to stop it. Leave while you have the chance!"

Dougy drives off as Anthony' rage—filled eyes watch the red glow fading.

From the old complex windows, Dave watches the last of the glow, the last evidence of a building ever being there, fading out as the tornado—like vortex forms, twisting up to the sky like the atmosphere is spinning down into a humongous drain.

Janice stands there dumbfounded. "Jesus."

Dave looks anxious. "We can stop it... We have to stop it."

"Yeah right. Like we are going to get a dark matter injector the size of the Empire State Building.

He looks like he's got an idea. "What about the next best thing?"

They start sorting through the old basement storage room. Dave is looking frantically as he lifts a huge metal plate out of the way. "Here, help me move these."

She looks at the plates as if she remembers them. "What are these things?"

"These are my old antimatter shields. We used them for our first antimatter cone, but then..."

She tilts her head gesturing for him to continue. He passes more plates and she sits them against the wall.

He reveals an old lawn mower with a car alternator, and on top is a bunch of pipes and wires. Janice looks at it with confusion. "A new type of lawn mower?"

He smiles as he pushes it to the back of the storage room, near a metal grated drain in the floor. "This is one of the first antimatter generators we made. It won't even power one of them."

He gestures to the big plates against the wall. He then points to a bigger old antimatter generator which looks like a prototype with an old camping generator bolted to the side. It's about as big as a shopping trolley. "That's the first generator we set up for the first antimatter cone. Never got to use it though."

He comes back and grabs the trolley. He pushes it out of the way near the plates.

She looks at a sheet which covers some equipment. Dave moves the sheet to reveal, the old dark matter injector. It's primal. Wires curl around it like a bomb. There is a tank and exposed terminals on the back of a worn out switch board. Dials, meters, printed circuit boards, it's sort of like the inside of a 1950's TV, but the size of a football.

He pulls it out gently. Janice looks at it. "What the hell are you going to do with that?"

He starts changing some wires around. "We had problems with the first dark matter injectors exploding. But they were small. This one we built way too big. The volume of dark matter it injected was way too much but the pathetic pressure burst was so slow that it would be spagettified before it got to the core."

"So what are you doing now?"

He smiles at her. "I'm turning it into a bomb."

She realizes the gravity of the situation. "You're insane... It will be destroyed before you even get it close."

With the storm sound growing stronger outside, he pauses as he thinks. He then looks up at the large antimatter trolley. He gets an idea.

Soon they are wiring up the last plate onto the top of the trolley. The dark matter bomb is just underneath the top plate. As they finish, they stand back. The building starts to grind and moan under the pressure.

Janice looks at the trolley of equipment. It's a contraption and a half. The six antimatter plates point out in every direction. Down, up, left, right, front, and back. Janice looks at it with despair. "Oh God. This is insane. There is no way this is going to work."

"It's gotta work."

He steps closer and grabs the starting cord of the generator. The building groans more with the intensity of the growing wind.

Janice stands back, wary, closer to the lawn mower generator. Dave gulps. He pulls the cord and the generator splutters then stops. "Oh no."

He tries again. Nothing. His fist slams into the generator. He pauses, as if giving up. Janice watches on. "Great."

The building starts to shake like it's an earth quake. Suddenly, Dave grabs the cord and yanks it hard. The generator splutters, turning over with single puffs of smoke, on the verge of stalling. He reaches down with hope as he slightly adjusts the choke. The generator speeds up as it roars into action. He flicks a switch and a wavy field surrounds him. He grins from ear to ear as he looks back at Janice who is just as cheery. "It works. It God damn works —"

Suddenly, the roof buckles and caves in on top of Janice. Dave's eyes widen with dread as debris bounces off the shield. "No no No NO!"

He flicks the energy shield switch off and dust wafts in around him. He races through the dust to see Janice pinned down under a steel beam. She moans in pain as he comes to her aid. "Oh God no."

He tries to move the beam and she screams in pain. "Ahhhhhhhh!"

Chunks of the roof start peeling away sucked up by the storm. Janice suppresses the pain. "It's no use! You have to go now!"

"No. No you have to leave! The supernova will kill you!"

"If you don't stop it, we're all dead. You know you have to go now!"

His face contorts with anguish. He starts pulling off his watch and pulls out his wallet. He then throws them to the side. He pulls of his shield amulet, and is about to throw it when she grabs his hand. She takes it off him. "I remember when you first showed me this. It was the first day I knew... I loved you."

He looks at her as a tear escapes from his eye. She reaches up to his head and pulls him close. She kisses him as a tear runs down her face. She pulls back. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

"Now go save the world before I get angry."

He kisses her again with a passion that transcends all time and space. In their embrace, the storm seems to become quiet and the tearing roof seems to be a world away. At this moment, it's like their love is a shield from the universe.

Boom! A huge chunk of the wall breaks away. Dave looks down the room, past the shielded trolley, to the storm in the distance. The wind starts pulling the trolley away. He races forward to grab to trolley. He looks back at Janice as the trolley starts pulling him away. She nods at him with a loving smile. He smiles back. He turns and pushes forward toward the storm.

His determination sets in as his rage builds. He charges on as he reaches for the shield switch. Suddenly, he catches a glimpse of a shadow. He looks back to see Anthony charging out from a damaged wall to tackle him. Dave flicks the switch just as Anthony enters the field. At that instant, Anthony grabs him and they both feel the stillness as they are separated from the fury and the debris outside the field. Anthony grabs Dave hard as they roll towards the vortex. "Hi Dave. Fancy meeting you here."

With that, Anthony's hand snatches Dave's throat. Dave struggles, freaking out, not knowing what to do. He reaches up to grab Anthony's hand and holds on as he continues to keep the device upright. Anthony shakes the trolley, trying to turn it over as the vortex grips the device, pulling it faster and faster.

Janice struggles to move the beam with no success. She then looks at the antimatter generator. She notices the wires heading from the alternator box to the antimatter generator. On the terminals are two big markings. Positive and Negative polarity. She then looks at the shield amulet in her hand. Instantly, she gets to work resetting all the wires.

Anthony tilts the trolley to the side onto two wheels, nearly tipping it over. Dave is still holding the trolley up and stopping it from being pulled away and smashed.

Dave continues to struggle but is starting to pass out from the strangle hold. He starts going limp. Anthony smiles. "Say goodbye to everything."

Dave's hand lets go of the trolley, clutches into a fist, and punches Anthony in the head. Anthony falls to the side outside of the shield. Dave grabs the trolley and pulls it back under control as Anthony starts being sucked into the vortex. Desperately, Anthony claws at the ground and tries to grasp the trolley, but the vortex sucks him diagonally into the tornado—like wind. Anthony screams as Dave watches him tumble away until he is picked up by the wind and pulled into the debris field where Dave loses sight of him. He guides the device onwards.

Janice has the polarity wires off the terminals and the power switch set to on. She frantically searches through some other wires, which come from the other end of the antimatter generator. She finds two, slotting them onto the back of the shield plate. She then looks for a place to sit the shield. She sees the drain and reaches for it with the plate. It perfectly slides into the slit of the drain.

Dave is holding the trolley back, guiding it slowly towards the vortex. He sees he is getting closer. He starts pushing buttons on the timer for the dark matter bomb. Two minutes. He looks up at the vortex, then back to the timer. More glancing between the two. He changes his mind and clears the time. He punches in sixty seconds instead.

He reaches down over the start button on the dark matter bomb, waiting. He glances back up at the vortex and sees a man hole not too far in front of him, cemented into the ground. A glint of hope sparks in his eye.

Back to glancing between the vortex and the timer. He psyches himself up, waiting for the right moment. As he approaches the man hole, he takes a deep breath and pushes the start button. The timer ticks down.

Dave lets the trolley go as he reaches down to the man hole. He grabs it and opens it up to start climbing down. As the shield leaves him, the wind is vicious making it difficult for him to climb down. He struggles to pull himself half way down the man hole. He pulls hard reaching for the next step, fighting the suction. He forces himself and grabs hold pulling himself down easily so just his head is poking out the top. He watches the trolley venture onwards by itself.

Janice has everything ready as she awkwardly grabs the lawn mower pull start and pulls. Nothing. She pulls again. Still nothing. She sighs.

As he watches the trolley get faster, it hits a bump and falls onto its side. Instantly, the antimatter field breaks down, and the debris starts lashing at the device. On its side, it grinds along the ground much slower than he predicted. Dread sets in. "Oh God no."

Torment sets in as he faces the inevitable conclusion. "Goodbye it is."

Janice struggles to reach up to the speed selector on the handle of the lawn mower. She can't reach and pushes harder. Again she can't reach. She pushes higher and moans in agony as she reaches it and pulls it down towards her. She sighs with relief.

Dave forces himself up out of the manhole and sprints towards the vortex. The wind helps as debris hits him in the back and head. He holds his hands up to protect himself.

Fighting the vicious wind, he reaches the trolley and grabs it. He lifts it onto its side and the wind pulls him and the device faster and faster. He turns the shield power switch off. He sees a chunk of sheet metal hurtle at the device. He thinks quickly and sprints, pushing it faster and faster towards the black hole. The sheet metal is coming straight at him and he pushes as the corner slashes into his thigh. He grits his teeth in pain, but then focuses straight on the damaged device.

The wind and debris start feeling like they're trying to tear him away from the device. He sees some wires have come undone from the shield plate and instantly reaches down to do them up. The timer is at thirty two seconds and counting. He turns the power switch back on. Nothing.

He scans over the shield generator and spots a printed circuit board not properly in its socket. He's struggling to keep the trolley upright as his feet start dragging as stabilizers. A chunk of wood which he can't see, hurtles at his head and is about to smack him. He pushes the circuit board back into place. The wood is coming closer on the verge of killing him. Suddenly, he flicks the switch and the shield comes up. The wood bounces off the shield, scaring the hell out of him.

Janice pulls on the lawn mower cord trying to get it started. She can't get the right angle to pull hard and is frustrated. But then she looks at the beam. She pulls the cord around the beam and uses it like a pulley, yanking the cord and the lawnmower engine roars into action.

The trolley bounces, as it's pulled into the air by the vortex. He hugs the device and watches as he enters the debris field. He's spinning faster and faster around the vortex getting closer and closer to the black hole. He's looking around trying to see as he catches a glimpse of something large. He squints to see through the debris when the outline of Anthony fades in at a rapid speed. Anthony's face and clothes are torn from the shrapnel of debris spinning like razor blades, but his face is focused and targeted straight at the device. Just at that moment, he raises a shard of steel ready to stab the dark matter bomb.

Dave's eyes widen with dread as he psyches himself up. Anthony raises the shard ready to strike. As Anthony passes through the shield and thrusts the shard forward, Dave pushes himself over the device and the shard stabs deep into his back. He pauses with the shock of realization. Anthony holds onto the shard and grabs the trolley as the trolley tumbles towards an emerging dark shadow. Closer to the event horizon of pure blackness, the debris cloud outside starts stretching into a stream of grey cloud. On the counter fourteen seconds remain.

Janice holds the two wires close to the positive and negative terminals. She touches them together and they spark. She places the black one on the red terminal, and then holds the red one, ready to press onto the black terminal. "Wait for the flash."

Anthony pulls the shard out of Dave's back and raises it. Dave turns around as Anthony swings out ready to swing back in. "I win Dave."

Dave lifts his leg and kicks Anthony in the chest forcing him back out of the shield where Dave watches his horrific screams as his body stretches long and thin until his pin pointed feet start to evaporate into the cloud until he is completely spaghettified.

Dave spins around the twenty meter diameter black hole and sees his orbit sink past the point where light can't escape the gravitational pull. It's like a pitch black cloud rises around him. He looks at the counter. Eight seconds.

He looks up at the circle of light that gets smaller and smaller until it looks like the sun. Three seconds to go. "I love you too, Janice."

Boom! From the sky, the blast goes off like a nuclear explosion of blue light.

Janice sees the bright light from the supernova blast and instantly flicks the switch on the mini shield generator. A pulse of energy bursts out and slams into the supernova shock wave which deviates around Janice wiping away the rest of the building around her. She closes her eyes expecting to be blown away.

Blackness.

Silence.

Her heart beats and her breathing sounds. She starts to open her eyes to the huge crater that's before her, glowing red hot. It's burnt all the way up to a meter in front of the shield. Around her, she sees the ground blown away and she is standing on the point of an acute V which extends behind her. The beam that holds her is vaporized on both ends and she easily pushes it off her where it tumbles off the side into the chasm. She stands to look over the incredible destruction. "You did it Dave. You saved the world. You..."

Tears well up. Torment sets in. She bursts into tears.

A gasp of a deep breath. Dave wakes up in the middle of a field, bleeding but not too bad. He can cope. A man stands over him. "You alright buddy?"

Dave starts freaking out. "Jesus. Where the hell am I? Who the hell are you?"

The guy smiles. "You're in the place where we are going to build one of the most awesome particle accelerators of all time. I'm the guy who's supposed to help build some sort of antimatter generator. What's your name and what are you doing here?"

Dave's eyes widen with realization as he sees the brand new 1980's clothes and huge clunky mobile phone. He gulps. "My name... My name's... David Cassidy. I... I came here to visualize the Antimatter generator I'm going to build. Looks like you're going to help me build it."

Dave smiles as the man helps him up. He then looks out at the 1980's world that's around him in awe. Joy wells up in his eyes. "I've arrived."

SUMMARY

The initial concept idea was:

"When secretly trying to stabalize a macro—black—hole, a challenge seeking scientist realizes a genius saboteur has disabled the safety protocols and struggles to get the saboteur and stop the black hole before it devours the entire planet."

This story screamed to be written. I thought of the concept when watching a news report about the Large Hadron Collider.

They were talking about making black holes and people were worried about the black holes engulfing the planet. But they talked about how that was impossible because the black holes weren't stable enough to grow in size. They disappeared the instant they were created.

Well I took that and added one of Hal's brilliant High Concept Formats. What if?

Instantly I saw the entire science of this process and possibilities and the reality of how it would react if it was there.

Some problems. Gravity would pull the black hole towards the center of the earth. So I had to invest something that would repel it. But then there was the other problem of how they would destroy it. I don't know enough about the science of how black holes react with antimatter and dark matter but I thought they were good to have as possible techniques.

On a story issue, is I already used the science experiment gone bad, and I needed a cause of the problem. So in comes the saboteur.

I especially love the time paradox at the end as a major twist. This story is something I enjoyed thoroughly. Which leads me to the last of my stories. These are all linked short stories where each story is from the point of view of another person. It's a Crime genre starting with: The God Mother.

Concept: A woman inherits the role of God Mother when her jealous brother is passed over, but then she is hunted by a detective to the point where her son's world changes for ever.

Contents

THE GOD MOTHER

In a rich mafia home, bags are packed in the hallway at the front door.

Frank, a male servant, is 53, elegant, and a great guy. "So what are you doing?"

He's talking to Gale, 34, the God father's daughter, business minded to the max. "I'll wait in Rome for things to cool off. I need everyone to get used to the changes."

Jerry, her 5 year old son, picks up a backpack. "We go holidays!"

They smile. Frank warns, "Be careful Gale, the cops know you are going and I won't be there to protect you."

"You bet. Don't let Leon get any stupid ideas. See ya Frank."

Footsteps are heard as Leon, her 36 year old brother, reckless and controlled by his emotions, steps up with one of her bags.

She leaves with Jerry.

Frank and Leon watch them driving away in the car. Leon's expression turns cold. "So are you in?"

"Don't ask me again. I promised your father."

In Rome, they walk down the coble stone street. Behind them, they are followed by Mick, a 40 year old cop. He's obsessive, and he wants to destroy the Mafia. He holds a gold watch with a hand—cuff engraving.

Mick runs around the block. He waits in an alley.

A truck roars as Gale walks past. Jerry follows until he is quietly nabbed by Mick.

The truck drives away. She notices the absence of footsteps as terror strikes. She spins around and Jerry is nowhere to be seen.

In a back room, Mick has Jerry in a chair. "OK kid, tell me what your mother does."

"She buy me lollies."

"No I mean, does she hurt the bad men?"

"Yeah she can be mean."

"Good kid, now did she hurt your Grandpa?"

"I miss Grandpa."

"Answer the question kid."

"Mummy!"

"That doesn't make sense."

Behind Mick, stands Gale. She grins evilly. "Yes it does."

With a swift swing of a steel pole, she smacks him unconscious.

Mick starts to come to. He looks up and tries to move but he is tied up. He sees Gale whisper something to Jerry and Jerry runs off. Gale then looks at Mick, lights a match, and asks, "Do you smell petrol?"

She drops the match as Mick sees the petrol all over the floor. Flames burst and they ravage through the building.

Gale steps up to Jerry and says "Come on. Let's go get Ice cream."

The building burns behind her.

Frank is wiping down a table when the phone rings. He picks it up. "Hello?"

Gale is in an Italian restaurant and has the phone to her ear. "Frank, I'm coming back. It's probably more dangerous here than at home."

Back home, Frank stands outside the front door, with Leon who says, "I don't want to be here."

"You should respect her and do what she says just as your father told you to."

"You should do what you know needs to be done."

Gale and Jerry pull up and get out of the car with a smile.

In the dining room, Gale steps up to Jerry who has been drawing a sad face in his scrap book. She crouches to his height. "Hey champ. Everything ok?"

"I don't like the bad men."

"You have to be strong Jerry. There will always be bad men and you have to be smart and if you do that, everything will work out for you. Just remember I will always love you no matter what, ok?"

Jerry smiles. "Ok mummy."

She smiles as Frank comes in from the kitchen.

Gale tickles Jerry and he laughs. Frank smiles at the loving sight. At the dining room door, Leon steps into view and watches. A tear wells in his eye with a remorseful gaze.

Two years later, Gale tucks Jerry into bed.

She smiles. "You are going to be a great leader one day."

Jerry smiles. "Like a king."

She grins. "Yeah like a king."

He smiles then looks past her with confusion.

Gale turns around to see Frank. "What are you doing in here?"

Frank looks sad. "I'm so sorry Gale. I've spent my life protecting you. You and your father were like family."

"What are you on about Frank?"

Leon and a badly scarred man step up behind Frank. The scarred man holds his gold watch with the hand—cuff engraving. "Thanks for letting us in, Frank."

He looks at Gale. "Next time you burn someone alive, make sure they don't run to the water when the rope melts."

Leon hands a gun to Frank. "Frank, make me the Godfather."

Frank hesitantly lifts the gun and shoots Gale dead.

Leon then leans down and grabs Jerry who is in shock. "Don't worry Jerry; I'll look after you from now on."

He carries Jerry out and Jerry watches his mother on the floor as he is carried from the room.

Leon closes the door.

Contents

THE COP'S HEAT

In a huge, busy Italian police station, at a desk, sits Mick, 40, a mafia specialist. He looks at a file of Mafia associates. Suddenly the phone rings. He picks it up. "Hello?"

A policeman's voice answers. "Mick Tanner?"

"Speaking."

"Yeah I've got an update. You know Garth Caldeario?"

Mick flicks through the pages. He spots Garth's photo from a private eye point of view, and reads through. "Yeah what about him?"

Mick sees the children, Leon, and Gale.

The policeman continues. "Yeah someone blew his brains out."

Mick's brow furrows in interest. "Geese. That would mean Leon is taking over right?"

"Wrong. He delegated it to Gale. You've got yourself a God Mother."

Mick smiles. "Ok can you keep tabs on her for me? Get any information you can about the murders. I need clues."

"I'm not doing nothing. You can do it yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"She's arriving in Rome tomorrow."

Mick smiles as he hangs up. He glimpses the chief and stands abruptly. "Hey chief. Do I still get the promotion if I crack the Caldeario case?"

The chief stops and looks at him. "Yeah. You got a break?"

"Nar, I've got a gift from God."

Mick looks down at Gale's photo and smiles.

Outside the airport, Mick waits. He flips open his Gold watch which has a hand—cuff symbol and looks at the time. He sees Gale step through the doors. She's 34 and has a business aura about her. With her sophisticated posture and matching clothes, she holds the hand of her 5 year old son, Jerry.

Mick follows them.

In an alley, he waits. Gale walks past as a truck roars in the background. As Jerry steps into view, Mick grabs him with his hand over Jerry's mouth. Jerry struggles as Mick pulls him down the alley. Mick pushes on a door and it opens into a simple dwelling. He shuts the door and drags Jerry into a back room.

He sits Jerry down on a chair. Jerry sobs and looks at him angrily. "You a bad man!"

"I'm sorry Jerry. It's just that I wanted to give your mummy a big surprise to make her really happy. You want your mummy to be happy right?"

"Yes I like when mummy is happy."

"Well I have a present for you first."

He pulls out a large stuffed toy tiger. "Tadda!"

Jerry's grin expands with the sight of the toy. "Wow!"

Mick hands it to Jerry. "See? Now that surprise made you happy right? I want to make your mummy just as happy with a surprise of her own. Do you want to help me make your mummy that happy?"

Jerry thinks for a second. "Yes please."

Mick gets all serious. "Ok kid, tell me what your mother does."

"She buy me lollies."

"No I mean, does she hurt the bad men?"

"Yeah she can be mean."

"Good kid, now did she hurt your Grandpa?"

"I miss Grandpa."

"Answer the question kid."

"Mummy!"

"That doesn't make sense."

Mick hears Gale's voice. "Yes it does."

A sickening thud sounds.

Gale stands at the door and leans down to whisper to Jerry. "Honey can you go wait in the car?"

Jerry smiles and nods before he runs off.

Gale looks down to see Mick tied up and struggling. She lights a match and holds it up so Mick can see. "Do you smell petrol?"

Mick starts freaking out as he watches the match flame drop into the wavy fumes of the petrol on the floor. Whoosh! Flames rip through the room.

The heat singes his hair. Suddenly his skin starts crackling as it cooks in the flames. He screams and struggles. He turns his back to the flames as they burn his hands, and clothes.

The rope on his feet and his hands starts melting as he starts to gasp for breath, unable to breathe or scream due to the pain. Suddenly the rope melts on his feet to the point where he is loosed from his bonds. His whole back and sides are in flames as his hands break free. He curls up into the fetal position.

He breathes deep then roars with rage. "Aaaaahhhhhh!!!!!"

He forces himself up and dives through the window. Smash!

On the ground, he forces himself up, flames all over his body. Eyes wide, he dives for the fountain. Hiss! Splash!

He trembles in shock with charcoal and red skin. A voice sounds. "Call an ambulance!"

He passes out.

Shock roars as he wakes up screaming! "Aaahhhhhh!"

Nurses flurry. A doctor races up to him. "Calm down, you're safe. Please sir you need to keep still to avoid infection."

Mick starts to calm down in fear. His arms are covered in bandages. He tries to speak but it's a mumble.

The doctor continues. "Don't talk. You are in the hospital. You're safe. Just relax and we can get started on making you better."

Mick's eyes squint in torment.

Various stages of rehabilitation take place as he starts walking and talking again.

Two years later, Mick has recovered enough to leave the hospital. He is extremely scarred and his fingers are just stubs. He puts on a hat. A box of his burnt belongings is opened. He pulls out his gold watch which is slightly blackened but still working.

He walks out of the hospital.

Mick is on the phone. "I need access. You got a contact for me?"

Mick smiles as he listens. "Excellent. Get photos of his Niece, Susan. She works at the supermarket just down the road from you. Make them good. I'll be in touch."

He hangs up and dials a number.

Frank, at his place, picks up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello Frank. I'll be visiting you soon. I want to show you some lovely photos of your niece."

Frank's eyes dim with despair.

Frank, shaking, slides a key into the lock. Mick pushes the door open and Leon follows him inside.

Frank whispers to himself, "Forgive me."

He enters.

Through the bedroom window, Gale's fearful expression looks at Frank and he lifts the gun and shoots her dead.

Mick grins evilly at Jerry and waves hello.

Contents

THE BUTLER DID IT

At the graveside of a Mafia funeral, stands Frank, who is a 53 year old, well kept butler with a posture of honor. A tear wells as the coffin lowers. He looks at Jerry, a confused 5 year old boy.

Behind him is Gale, 34, Jerry's mum who grieves with passion.

An arm wraps around her, comforting her, belonging to Leon, who is 36 years old and Gale's brother. He stares at Frank with a callous cold gaze.

Frank looks back at the coffin.

Later, Frank sits in the meeting room. A lawyer reads the will to Gale, Leon, and the immediate family. "... I therefore leave everything to the control of the only one I trust."

Frank squints in disbelief. Gale remains saddened. Leon grins evilly.

The lawyer continues. "You have always been there for me. Thank you Gale. I trust you will do me proud."

Frank's disbelief amplifies. He looks at Gale. She sees everyone's anger. Leon erupts! "No friggin' way! Who changed the will?"

The lawyer cowers. "I'm sorry Leon, but this will is 11 years old. No one —"

Leon punches the lawyer. He then pulls a gun and puts it to the Lawyer's head. The family gasp.

Frank darts over beside Leon. "Wait... Don't disrespect your father's wishes."

Leon pauses, thinking. He looks to the side at Frank who continues. "Leon, you're the son of Garth Caldeario. Act like it. You can still make your father proud."

Leon sees the family staring at him. He huffs in a rage and storms out.

Gale steps up to Frank. "Thanks. I didn't want this Frank."

"I know Gale, but you've got it. You're the God Mother now."

Alone in his humble quarters, Frank looks at a photo of a beautiful young girl. He gently puts the photo next to his bed. A few seconds later, he gingerly reaches for the phone. He hesitates then dials.

Susan is the 13 year old girl in the photo, Frank's closest family, his niece. She is pretty blunt but with a heart of gold. In her girly bedroom, she pulls the phone up to her ear. "Your money."

"Hey Susan."

"Uncle Frank?"

"Yeah, how are you?"

"Great. What's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to hear a friendly voice."

"That doesn't sound like nothing. Spit it out."

"Well... I got some bad news. Garth didn't leave me a dime."

"Oh... I see... Hey don't worry about it Unc. You still have me."

"But what about college?"

"Forget about it. I'll get the money. I've got work lined up for after school."

Frank smiles. "That's great. I'm so proud of you."

She pauses not knowing what to say. "Um, well, it's getting late and I have school tomorrow. I'll call you later ok?"

"Yep."

"See ya Unc."

"Night."

She hangs up. Frank thinks as he does the same.

He turns and shudders in fright as he sees Leon standing at the door. They look at each other in an eerie silence.

In the hallway, Gale and Jerry are packed ready to leave. They smile at Frank who says, "Be careful Gale, the cops know you are going and I won't be there to protect you."

Gale replies, "You bet. Don't let Leon get any stupid ideas. See ya Frank."

Leon's footsteps get louder as he approaches with one of her bags.

After they leave, Frank walks up to Leon. "Please just let it go. You have to be smart."

"Don't tell me what to do, Frank."

Leon walks away.

A few days later Frank is cleaning a table. The phone rings. He answers it. "Hello?"

In an Italian restaurant, Gale talks on her phone. "Frank, I'm coming back. It's probably more dangerous here than at home."

Frank shows a worried look. "What happened?"

"They kidnapped Jerry but I got him back. It's time to face the facts and get things running smooth again. I'll be back tomorrow at about noon."

Gale hangs up on him. Frank sits there a bit shocked by the call. He hangs up.

Two years later, Jerry runs up to Frank. "Hey Uncle Frank. I got an A in the test at school today."

"That's great Jerry. What class —"

The phone interrupts. Frank smiles. "You go tell mum and tell me all about it later ok?"

"Yes sir."

Jerry runs off as Frank picks up the phone. "Caldeario residence."

Frank's smile turns to dread. "She's got nothing to do with this. She's innocent." He pulls the phone away and looks at it with despair.

Frank sleeps. Suddenly a hand shakes him awake. Frank looks at Leon who says, "I've got someone wanting to talk to you."

Frank starts to worry.

Outside, they look up at the Mafia mansion.

A noise startles Frank and he spins around to see a badly scared man with stubby fingers, holding a gold watch with a hand cuff engraving. It's Mick, 40, a detective with a dark side. "You took your time."

Leon bites back. "Don't start Mick."

Frank is confused. "What's going on?"

Leon hands photos to Frank. "Now you are going to get us past that security."

The photos panic Frank.

Frank opens Jerry's bedroom door with Leon and Mick.

Frank sees Jerry in bed. Gale turns and asks, "What are you doing in here?"

Frank sadly replies. "I'm so sorry Gale. I've spent my life protecting you. You and your father were like family."

"What are you on about Frank?"

Leon and Mick enter the room. Mick smiles evilly. "Thanks for letting us in Frank."

Mick peers at Gale. "Next time you burn someone alive, make sure they don't run to the water when the rope melts."

Frank sees Leon's hand extend, offering the gun. "Frank, make me the Godfather."

Frank hesitantly grabs it. He looks down the barrel at Gale's fearful gaze. Bang!

It's daytime at a bank, and Frank who is tormented, hands over a brief case to the teller.

Frank exits the bank. He looks at the photo of Susan then sticks a gun in his mouth. With a bang, pedestrians stare in shock.

Contents

THE BROTHERLY LOVE

In the study of the Mafia Mansion, Garth, 63, the God Father, sits in his arm chair, relaxing, looking out the window.

He sees the reflection of Leon, 32, the ambitious son who walks up behind Garth. "Father?"

Garth stays facing the window. "Leon. What's on your mind?"

"I want to start my training for taking over the business."

"Not yet."

"But, I've been ready for years."

"Well, what if I decide to leave you with nothing?"

Leon gulps, infuriated. "Then I won't give you the chance to decide."

He jabs a gun into Garth's mouth. Garth tries to pull it away. Bang!

Leon sets Garth's hand around the grip, then moves back. Blood is spattered over his face. He grins evilly.

Later in a meeting room with the family and a lawyer, Leon slams his fist on the desk. "No friggin' way! Who changed the will?"

Fear infects the lawyer. "I'm sorry Leon, but this will is 11 years old. No one —"

A punch from Leon connects hard. He draws a gun to the lawyer's head. Gasps sound.

Frank, 53, a loyal servant, approaches Leon. "Wait... Don't disrespect your father's wishes."

Leon thinks and gazes at Frank who says, "Leon, you're the son of Garth Caldeario, act like it. You can still make your father proud."

With staring eyes from the family, he hastily leaves.

Leon approaches Frank's quarters. He hears Frank's mumbled voice, as he listens at the door. It quietly opens and he sees Frank is on the phone. "That's great. I'm so proud of you..... Yep... Night."

Pausing, phone in hand, Frank thinks. Leon eerily watches him turn and shudder in fright. They both stare.

Frank breaks the silence. "Jesus, how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know you need what you deserve."

"If I deserved it I would have got —"

Leon butts in. "That's a cop out and you know it."

"I have respect."

"And what has that got you?"

Frank doesn't say a word. Leon approaches, whispers with seriousness. "What would you do with one hundred thousand dollars?"

Frank thinks as Leon grins. "Think about it. Your niece in the best college."

Frank looks up at Leon. "Catch."

"You're smart Frank. That's why you can kill Gale."

Frank's disgusted. "You'd kill your own sister?"

"I'm the first born son. I deserve to be God father."

"You're crazy. I won't —"

"Then just get me past security."

"Get out."

"You know you want it."

Leon pauses, then walks to the door. He glances back at Frank's cold stare. Leon then evilly grins and closes the door behind him.

It's daytime. Leon walks up the hall with a suitcase. He hands it to Gale, 34, and watches her sophisticated walk out the door followed by her 5 year old son, Jerry.

Leon stands on the step waving goodbye to the car with Frank. Leon's countenance turns cold. "So are you in?"

"Don't ask me again. I promised your father."

"Dad was a moron and you know it."

Frank holds back his rage. "He was my friend and if I catch the bastard that killed him, they'll wish they were tortured to death."

Frank leaves Leon stunned on the steps.

Inside, Leon checks if it's clear. He grabs the phone and dials. "I want you to know that Garth Caldeario the Mafia Godfather was murdered by his daughter, Gale Caldeario, and she will be arriving in Rome at five thirty today. Got it?..... Yep that's it."

Leon hangs up the phone.

On the front steps with Frank, Leon sighs. "She's a bitch."

"She's your boss."

"And I hate her for it."

"Get used to it."

Leon looks at Frank. "I don't want to be here."

Frank looks at Leon, seriously. "You should respect her and do what she says just as your father told you to."

"You should do what you know needs to be done."

They glare as Gale and Jerry pull up and get out of the car with a smile.

Later, inside, Leon hears Jerry's laughter. He sees Gale tickling him, and Frank watching with a smile. Leon looks perplexed. Frank whispers to Jerry and they journey to the kitchen.

Leon approaches Gale. "Um Gale?"

She rolls her eyes. "What?"

"I want to apologize. I... I can't change the past and if I could, I would. I wish Dad was still alive. I just want to say that, you are the God Mother, and a great mother. And I respect that this is how it is."

He waits. Gale looks up at him. "I appreciate that Leon. I know it's tough but I want to do what Dad wanted. I could really use your help. I don't want to do this alone."

They both smile. Leon looks down. "Thanks."

Frank enters the room with an ice block. Leon can't look him in the eye and leaves as Jerry comes in.

Two years later. Jerry does his home work and the phone rings. Leon picks up the phone. "Hello?"

On the other end of the call is Mick, who is a 42 year old, badly scared, ex—detective. He smiles evilly. "Hello Leon. It took me a while but I just want to talk to you about being a God Father."

Leon looks around cautiously. "What are you talking about?"

"You want it, I can give it to you."

"How?"

"I'll help you take Gale out of the picture."

Leon thinks, not making a sound.

Mick smiles. "I take it you're interested. I need access. You got a contact for me?"

"If you want to get past the security, find a way to mess with Frank. His number is 555, 7869."

"Excellent. Get photos of his Niece, Susan. She works at the supermarket just down the road from you. Make them good. I'll be in touch."

Leon hangs up with a cold gaze.

In the sunny afternoon at the supermarket, Susan, 15, a nice young girl in a check out uniform, walks out. From the bushes, Leon stands with a gun pointed at her. Behind him on a tripod, a camera clicks. Leon reaches back and turns the zoom and presses another couple of buttons for the timer on the camera. He aims the gun at her again. Another photo clicks. He does it a third time. He then grabs the camera and gets a nice close up photo of her.

At night, outside the mansion, Leon hands the photos to Frank who is tormented by the sight of them. Mick stands close by. Frank unlocks the mansion door a reluctantly lets them in.

Inside Jerry's bedroom, standing at the door, is Frank holding the gun. Mick and Leon stand behind him. Bang! Moments later, Leon picks up Jerry and walks him past Gale, who is now dead on the floor.

Jerry's past is gone along with his mother, and he knows it.

A few years later, Leon has a beard. A maid sits plates of delicious breakfast on the table. Leon calls out, "Jerry!" In a flash, Jerry races into the kitchen with a smile on his face. Leon continues. "Eat your breakfast before it goes cold."

Jerry smiles shyly with a slight roll of the eyes. "Yes Dad."

Contents

THE GOD SON

In a lovely and peaceful boy's bedroom, Jerry, 7, lies snug in his fluffy Batman bed. He's a good kid but able to cope with stress better than most adults. His mother, Gale, is a strong 36 year old woman with the role of God Mother for a Mafia family, but currently she reads a story book

Suddenly the door opens. Jerry looks up to see Frank, 55. He's the butler for the family but he's sad.

Jerry concentrates on the book, and doesn't notice conversation or the two other men.

Bang! Jerry shudders in fright. His mother has her head in his lap before she slides off the bed onto the floor. Jerry looks confused as if his mother just fell asleep on the floor. He looks up to see Frank who's holding a smoking gun.

Leon, his 38 year old uncle, stands there with a comforting grin from ear to ear. He waves at Jerry. Mick, a 42 year old ex—cop who has bad burn scars over his body, stand ominously in the shadows.

Jerry pants in shock. Leon leans down and mumbles something.

Leon lifts Jerry up to his chest and turns around to leave the room. Jerry sees his mother dead on the floor in a pool of blood.

Days later, Jerry hides under his bed. Leon bursts into the room. He searches. "I know you're in here."

Leon sees Jerry under the bed and vigorously pulls him out. "I bloody told you to get ready for school. Now you are going to get your bloody act together and you are going to do damn well."

"But... I miss my —"

"She's gone. She ain't coming back. Now get over it!"

Jerry hesitates, slightly angry, slightly scared. "Y—yes sir."

"Yes Dad!"

"Yes... Dad."

Leon smiles. "That's better. After school we'll go get ice cream."

Jerry leaves and Leon follows.

Years later, Jerry is a teenager. He sits in his room drawing stick figures in his diary, one is shooting the others.

Leon's voice echoes from downstairs. "Jerry, school!"

Jerry cheerfully packs up his text books and grabs his school bag. "Coming Dad!"

After school, Jerry is walking towards the street. A young substitute teacher bumps into him and spills books. It's Susan, 21, and she's hot but she won't put up with anyone pissing her off. She looks at Jerry. "I'm so sorry. I didn't —"

He helps her pick up her books. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't I know you?"

"I don't think so."

"Aren't you Leon Caldeario's kid?"

Jerry looks at her suspiciously.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Susan. I knew your mother."

Jerry drops the books and turns to leave. She calls out. "Jerry wait... I'm sorry."

Jerry stops with his back to her. "What do you want?"

"That's not important. The question is, what do you want?"

Jerry turns to see her sneaky grin. He pauses. "I have to go. My lift is waiting."

She gulps and watches him walk away.

Jerry steps inside the house. Leon has a beard and stands ominously. "Anything interesting happen at school today?"

"Yeah this chick about 21 bumped into me and dropped her books. She seemed nice."

Leon's eyes go evilly cold. "Did she say her name? Did she know you?"

Jerry picks up on Leon's hatred. "Nar but she was hot."

Leon smiles, relaxed. "You should bone her."

Jerry laughs. "I'll see what I can do."

One night a few days later, Jerry walks past a club. Susan comes out. "Jerry is that you?"

Jerry sees her. "What are you doing here?"

"Just looking for some fun. Want to walk me home?"

Jerry thinks. "Sure."

Approaching a house, they chuckle. Susan stops. "Well I'm home."

Jerry smiles. "I know what I want."

"Huh?"

"You asked me the other day. I know what I want."

He reaches out his hand and lovingly cups her cheek. She has torment in her eyes. "Jerry, I can't."

Jerry drops his hand, embarrassed and turns away. She speaks up. "Jerry wait. I misled you."

Jerry stops and turns, angry. "What?"

"I have been looking for you for years. My uncle was Frank. And I've got the money to exact justice. So what do you want?"

Jerry thinks.

The mansion door slams. Leon comes out to see Jerry in a rage. "Bitch!"

Leon looks curious. "What is it?"

"You know that chick I was talking about?"

"Yeah."

"Her name is Susan. She said she was Frank's Niece. The bitch lied to me."

Leon looks slightly worried. "Did she say anything else?"

"Nar I came straight home."

"Don't talk to her anymore."

"I don't intend to."

Jerry goes upstairs.

Later on the phone, Leon talks to Mick. "She's getting too close."

Mick looks evil. "I'll be there soon. No loose ends this time."

Outside of Susan's place, just before dawn, it's dark. Jerry hides. Leon is behind him. Jerry points. "That's the place."

Mick watches them from a distance.

Jerry looks at Leon. "You said you would bring in some help."

Leon smiles and waves for Mick to come over. He does.

Jerry sees Mick who smiles. "Hey kid."

"Uh... hi."

Mick looks at the house. "Let's do this."

They pick the lock and sneak inside. The bedroom door creaks open and Jerry sees the figure in the bed. Leon hands Jerry a gun and smiles. "Make me proud Son."

Jerry aims.

Bang! Bang!

Roars of agony echo as Mick and Leon collapse. Blood runs from their kneecaps. Jerry then turns the gun away from the bed and aims at them. From behind, Susan steps into view with a smoking gun. "A gun paid for with blood money you gave my uncle before he shot himself. How ironic."

She hands the gun to Jerry then grabs a tin of petrol. She pours it everywhere. Jerry shoots them in the other knees. They scream. Jerry ensures they get one more shot to each shoulder.

Jerry and Susan move to the front door and Jerry smiles as he lights a match. "This time you won't escape."

He throws the match and flames roar through. Susan throws the guns to them.

Later, a crowd forms around the house as it's nearly burnt to the ground. Jerry and Susan watch. An onlooker speaks. "Where the hell is the fire brigade?"

Jerry looks at Susan curiously. She smiles and waves some money in his face. Jerry smiles as they pause. Closer still, they kiss.

Jerry is in the office of the mansion. Susan comes in wearing a maid's uniform and a kinky smirk. "The guests have arrived."

"Send them in."

His elderly family members come in. An old man with a scar kisses his hand. "Thank you Godfather."

Contents

CONCLUSION

The initial concept idea was:

"A book of stories with each one written from a different genre."

My TAFE Teacher, Colleen, inspired the idea and helped with the editing of the stories. This has been a long time in the making. I started the book late in 2007. Obviously the screenwriting assignments, classes, and projects I have been doing have held up the process.

Each story was about 1 — 3 hours in outlining, and roughly 12 — 24 hours writing the first draft, depending on how much I rewrote before saving it. Some took longer due to totally reworking the entire story to get it to work.

This book is an insight into the genre world. Although it's a touch on what is truly possible. With deeper knowledge of the story craft, one can see the intricate weaving of techniques and structures, a core underneath every story, visible to those that have the eyes to see. Where the events, tone and style, are layered in over the top to form what is an amazing construction.

Architects and structural engineers spend years learning what holds up a safe, strong building. When they see other buildings, they have X—ray—like vision to see inside and know how all the parts work. They can see the amazing complexity working in harmony to deliver greatness to the people.

Story is very similar. Great writers spend years learning all the different techniques that make stories strong and entertaining. When they see other stories, they see the complex inner working that holds the story together.

It's like a puzzle of seemingly different puzzles. When you start to see the similarities, they start forming a simple and elegant picture. The writing process slips into a style and form that suits the writer perfectly. They can then use that understanding to elevate any story they put their hands on.

So if you want and love to write, then every time you write you will succeed in fulfilling your love. So learn, practice, and do your best always and know that is where true success comes from. Everything else is icing on the cake. If the "why" is strong enough, the "how" is easy. Make sure your "why" is in epic proportions and enjoy your life of success.

Contents
