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View Full Version : Jimmy's Last Dance (818 words) (Language).



lowprofile300
March 18th, 2012, 03:21 AM
I awoke to the jerking of the bus as it was pulling up to the station. The trailer park was within walking distance and the sun was starting to set. I was hungry but I didn’t waste any time. I began the short walk, and soon I was knocking on the door of number 21 at the Keep Out Trailer Park. I waited patiently to the sound of the turn of the lock and the door opened. Today is the day. I have waited long enough and I sure hope it was worth the wait. I am not excited, just anxious to know the truth. The saying goes that the truth will set you free, well, freedom here I come.

Jimmy stood in the doorway in his traditional dirty blue jeans and loud t-shirt. The t-shirt really caught me off guard for a second there. It had a picture of an old fat guy wearing an undersized t-shirt with half his lower gut hanging out unabashedly, with the line, “Go F_ck Yourself”, in bold font in front and below that, it read “Would you like to buy a vowel?” .
Yea, what was that all about?

“Hey Clyde, what the hell are you doing here? How is the old man? Heck, come inside.”
“Hey Jimmy, I am here to kill you and that troll you call a wife, and by the way the old man is dead! I made sure of that.”

There was an abrupt silence, awkward.

“You are such a kidder”, he said with a smile. “Your old man and I go way back for me to take you seriously; else I would have my gun to your head round about now. Hey, you are old enough to drink, right? Come have a drink with me and tell me why you are here.”

Poor Jimmy, I guess he never saw it coming. See, that’s what happens with old age; you tend to slack. In Jimmy’s case, it’s going to cost him his life. He poured himself a shot of Scotch whiskey from the crystal decanter at the bar in their living room, and offered me one from a similar glass.

“I am not twenty one, Jimmy. Besides, I don’t care much for alcohol, thank you. Say Jimmy, do you remember a job you guys did some twenty years ago? The one that involved some poor kid in a pool of acid, I realize it’s been a while but surely you must remember, right?” I asked.

I could sense Jimmy was getting nervous at this point. A single trickle of sweat began to form from across the bow of his forehead as he sipped his whiskey. If I didn’t know better, I would say Jimmy was as nervous as a whore in church.

“Look kid, where are you getting all this garbage? Let me tell you something, alright. This is bull, I am calling your old man, and he better have something good to say, else I swear I will put you down! What business of yours is this?”

Jimmy went reaching for the cell phone in his pants pocket, but I beat him to it with a kick to his groin. It sent him reeling five feet backwards in pain while I snatched the phone. It took him awhile, but he recovered in time to connect with my approaching fist to his left temple, blinding him momentarily. He looked surprised because he recoiled, but only briefly. This time he went for his gun, a 9mm which he kept in a custom holster in the hollow of his back underneath his t-shirt. I had anticipated that too, and was up on him like a hyena on prey in one swift move. Frankly the poor bastard never stood a chance; he was out maneuvered and out played.

I managed to grab the heavy decanter of whiskey and clubber him on the side of the head. He was passed out before he hit the floor. I removed his gun and emptied the clip, tossing the gun in the hallway and the clip in the kitchen trash can. I pulled the cord from the floor lamp out of the wall in the living room and ripped it from the lamp. I turned him around and bound his hands behind him, then walking over to the small kitchen I went through the drawers looking for duct tape.

Most homes keep duct tape in the kitchen drawer, especially homes in trailer parks, you would think. Ah, here we are, gray duct tape hiding in the back of the left bottom drawer. I went back and taped his mouth shut, and propped him in his favorite couch. It was the only couch in the living room, so it had to be his favorite. I then bound his legs together and taped him to the couch in a wrap-around kind of way, like they do at the Post Office. Yes, this package won’t be going any where for a long time.

bazz cargo
March 23rd, 2012, 07:22 PM
Hi LP,
Intriguing start to something. A few hiccups in the grammar and the layout could do with a tidy up. The characters are sketchy but there is enough of them to get a feel that vanity, arrogance and ego are strong motivators. There is a strong vibe that hooks my attention. I also like the slight tongue-in-cheek style.
Bazz.

lowprofile300
March 27th, 2012, 10:29 PM
Hi LP,
Intriguing start to something. A few hiccups in the grammar and the layout could do with a tidy up. The characters are sketchy but there is enough of them to get a feel that vanity, arrogance and ego are strong motivators. There is a strong vibe that hooks my attention. I also like the slight tongue-in-cheek style.
Bazz.

Hey Bazz, thanks for the imput. This is actually an excerpt from a broader story that I am still working on. Dialogue isn't one of my strongest areas, so I am constantly working on improving. Could you point out where I went wrong in the grammer department for me? Thanks.

bazz cargo
March 28th, 2012, 09:08 PM
I will give it a work over, but don't hold your breath. My life is mental at the moment.

lowprofile300
March 28th, 2012, 10:17 PM
I will give it a work over, but don't hold your breath. My life is mental at the moment.

Much appreciated. I will keep an eye out.

bazz cargo
March 29th, 2012, 08:26 PM
I awoke to the jerking of the bus as it pulled into the station. From there it was a short and hungry walk to my destination. The sun was setting when I arrived at the Keep Out Trailer Park. Soon I was knocking on the door of number 21. I waited patiently until the sound of the turning lock and the opening of the door.
I had waited long enough for this day and I sure hope it was worth the wait. I am not excited, just anxious to know the truth. The saying goes that the truth will set you free, well, freedom here I come.

Jimmy stood in the doorway wearing his traditional dirty blue jeans and loud t-shirt. The t-shirt really caught me off guard for a second there. It had a picture of an old fat guy wearing an undersized t-shirt with half his lower gut hanging out unabashedly, with the line, 'Go F_ck Yourself,' in a bold font in front and below that, it read 'Would you like to buy a vowel?'
Yea, what was that all about?

“Hey Clyde, what the hell are you doing here? How is the old man? Heck, come inside,” he said.
“Hey Jimmy, I am here to kill you and that troll you call a wife, and by the way the old man is dead! I made sure of that.”

There was an abrupt silence, awkward.

“You are such a kidder,” he said with a smile. “Your old man and I go way back for me to take you seriously; else I would have my gun to your head round about now. You are old enough to drink right? Come have a drink with me and tell me why you are here.”

Poor Jimmy, I guess he never saw it coming. See, that’s what happens with old age; you tend to slack. In Jimmy’s case unbeknown to him, it was going to cost him his life. He poured himself a shot of Scotch whiskey from the crystal decanter at the bar in their living room, and offered me one from a similar glass.

“I am not twenty one Jimmy. Besides, I don’t care much for alcohol, thank you. Say Jimmy, do you remember a job you guys did some twenty years ago? The one that involved some poor kid in a pool of acid, I realize it’s been a while but surely you must remember, right?” I asked.

I could sense Jimmy was getting nervous at this point. A single trickle of sweat began to form from across the bow of his forehead as he sipped his whiskey. If I didn’t know better, I would say Jimmy was as nervous as a whore in church.

“Look kid, where are you getting all this information from? Because this is bull, I am calling your dad, and he better have something good to say, because I swear I will personally take you out if he doesn’t. What business of yours is this?”

Jimmy went reaching for the cell phone in his pants pocket, but I beat him to it with a kick to his groin. It sent him reeling five feet backwards in pain while I snatched the phone. It took him awhile, but he recovered in time to connect with my approaching fist to his left temple, blinding him momentarily. He looked surprised because he recoiled, but only briefly. This time he went for his gun, a 9mm which he kept in a custom holster in the hollow of his back underneath his t-shirt. I had anticipated that too, and was up on him like a hyena on prey in one swift move. Frankly the poor bastard never stood a chance; he was out maneuvered and out played.

I managed to grab the heavy decanter of whiskey and clobbered him on the side of the head. He unconscious before he hit the floor. I removed his gun and emptied the clip, tossing the gun into the hallway and the clip in the kitchen trash can. As I pulled the cord from the floor lamp out of the wall in the living room and ripped it from the lamp. I turned him around and bound his hands behind him, then walking over to the small kitchen I went through the drawers looking for duct tape.

Most homes keep duct tape in the kitchen drawer, especially homes in trailer parks. I taped his lips together, and propped him on his favorite couch. It was the only couch in the living room, so it had to be his favorite. I then bound his legs together and taped him to the couch in a wrap-around kind of way, like they do at the Post Office. Yes, this package won’t be going any where for a long time.






It's a bit rough but that is the general idea. If you compare them side by side you will see how I have addressed the tense issues and smoothed out the clunky bits. I have tried to keep the 'voice' of the MC as close to your original as possible.

lowprofile300
March 30th, 2012, 03:26 PM
It's a bit rough but that is the general idea. If you compare them side by side you will see how I have addressed the tense issues and smoothed out the clunky bits. I have tried to keep the 'voice' of the MC as close to your original as possible.

Thanks Bazz, this was a great help. I will pay more attention to the tenses as the story unfolds. You have given me much to go on.