Post by distortia on Jan 22, 2014 22:43:03 GMT -5
"I bet you were that kid at the zoo who wanted to poke the animals and yank on their tails, that smart ass who everyone knew was never gonna make anything with his life but he was still a funny little shit at least until you turned 12 and were still telling the same jokes you told when you were 5… I’m sure mommy had to tell you a hundred times not to yank on things, hell I bet she still while you sit in her basement writing your ‘newest material’… Everyone that’s how you go blind.
As a ‘funny guy’ I’m sure you’re ‘jokes’ are enough to make all the other kindergartners cry and beg for their mommy to come defend their honor but unfortunately I have a little bit thinner skin than that- cue another ass joke?
Oh please… As if I haven’t heard it all before."
=/= The older gentleman stirs in his chair before violently vomiting onto the floor beside him, splattering his expensive business pants before seemingly passing out on the table again with his mouth agape.
Amber ss, perhaps towards the intoxicated old man or perhaps from the thoughts racing through her unbalanced mind. =/=
“You want to speak your mind as if your insults are bullets, unfortunately for you, the only shooting you know how to do is into a Kleenex. Bless you.
Cheap pops for forgettable puns aren’t going to put me down Harold, crappy one liners about necrophilia aren’t going to damage me and making sexist wisecracks about my ass? It only backs up my theory about your homoerotic fantasies.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but your shitty jokes? They aren’t even worth my time to listen to.
I want you to hold onto you’re precious playground quality insults for just a minute because I don’t think you quite understand what you’re getting yourself into- you’re leaving the safety of a world where the most damaging thing is when a critic didn’t think your joke about your next door neighbours mom being a total MILF was funny enough and into a place where the masses bay and champ at the bit for your blood to be splattered across the floor like some ritual sacrifice towards their insatiable bloodlust.
You can see it in their glazed over eyes, every time your skinny ass is broken just a little more, their excitement will grow. Every sickening bump; every thud of your head against canvas, against concrete, against steel will only serve to make them thirst for more.
Speaking of such dark thing makes me emo? Perhaps. I have a better description for what it makes me- it makes me a realist, unlike you? I actually understand what will happen every time I step out in front of those people, that no matter what we do, we will never satisfy the voracious appetite for violence.
Feel free to keep making your jokes but they’re just going to keep bouncing off me like your head will be bouncing off that canvas.”
=/= Amber takes a long drag, delighting in the sudden hit of nicotine coursing through her body as she knocks off the growing cluster of ashes from the cherry.
She watches as the hooded men become more insistent, more forceful towards the blonde bartender- her features rapidly changing from captivated to anxious. The men raise their voices in their insistence that she comes for a walk with them but still she refuses.
With an almost intrigued expression, Amber drops the microphone onto the stage beside her and makes her way towards the commotion at the bar, her sticky footsteps quickly attracting the attention of the two hooded figures as they look her up and down greedily. Instead of looking at the two men however, Amber turns to the obviously nervous bartender. =/=
“Can I get a shot of whatever you recommend…”
=/= The blonde bartender looks at Amber, then back to the men as if she were waiting for permission but when no one says anything she quickly moves as far down the bar as humanly possible. Amber in the meantime sizes up the two men, wearing near identical black hoodies with one guy being noticeably bigger than his more mouthy counterpart, she carefully places her still smouldering cigarette onto the bar surface hoping it won’t ignite with all the past alcohol spilled across its surface, as the smaller of the two men pulls his hoody back.
His skinny face was contorted into an ugly sneer, bleached blonde hair cut so short it needn’t even be there and his dark beady eyes clearly undressing her. =/=
“What can I do for you sweetheart?”
=/= His patronizing words were filled with spite, clearly he saw Amber as nothing more than a piece of meat for his own entertainment.=/=
“Actually nothing, just thought I’d mosey on over and see what’s going on”
=/= He chuckles as he look to his counterpart to see if he too found her comment comical, Amber stands by with a mischievous grin. =/=
“Am I missing something funny here?”
“Course not darlin’, now why don’t you just be on your way while we sort our business with this other lovely young lady.”
=/= He licks his lips lustfully as he watches the bartender, she shoots him a disgusted look, Amber doesn’t move though. Her face a blank canvas, taking in the filth before her. =/=
“Well? Get going…”
=/= The annoyance in his voice was growing by the moment, the hunger and lust in his eyes growing into rage. =/=
“You know? I get this funny feeling she wants nothing to do with your ‘business’ so how about you kindly fuck off.”
“She’s got some balls this one… I like it”
=/= Making a swift grabbing motion towards Amber’s arm he only gets air and a sharp kick to the crotch for his efforts, doubling over in pain he wheezes to his partner. =/=
“What are you waiting for?!”
=/= The larger of the men moves around his comrade, resting a hand on his back briefly out of sympathy before throwing a fist in Amber’s direction- she narrowly ducks out of the way and moves out between tables. =/=
“It’s really not very nice to try hit a girl”
=/= The big man ignores her remark, instead stalking her as she slowly weaves between the tables and moving chairs into his way, he tries to move the tables only to find them bolted into the ground. In the brief moment of his distraction with the tables, Amber scrambles onto the table top nearest, racing and leaping across the couple of tables distance with light feet and strikes the big man with a jarring flying knee to the jaw.
Stumbling back, he lands with a heavy thud on the sticky wooden floor, disoriented by the force and surprise of the strike.
Amber sarcastically dusts herself off before retuning her attention to the smaller of the two men, still doubled over in agony as she approached, however as soon as she is within reach- he strikes out with a wild fist that catches her in the mouth. She stumbles back a couple of steps as a droplets of blood collect on her bottom lip, flashing the smaller man a brief smile she charges him using all her momentum to bend him over backwards on the bar, her forearm held firmly on his windpipe. =/=
“What did I say about trying to hit girls?”
=/= Out of the corner of her eye she spies the smouldering cigarette within her arms length, burned almost down to the butt, without taking the pressure off the mans throat, she reaches and takes it up between her fingers. His eyes grow wide as the cigarette is brought closer, Ambers eyes travel from him, to the cigarette, and back as his fear grows. =/=
“You wouldn’t… Crazy bitch…”
“Maybe we should find out”
=/= His words rasp as Amber holds the glowing cherry just above his skin, close enough for him to feel the heat, he struggles only to have Amber increase the pressure across his windpipe. Closing his eyes, he waits for the intense burning sensation however Amber instead takes a final drag from the cigarette, blowing the cloud of smoke into the mans reddening face.
Suffocating, gasping for air, Amber finally releases the man- he staggers away still staring at her in total outrage as he coughs and pants for breath. Finding his larger friend sprawled out, confused on the floor a short distance away, he tries to drag him off the floor in several unsuccessful attempts before simply hissing at him to come along.
Eventually the larger man finds his feet and follows unsteadily as the smaller man murmurs insults Ambers way as he makes his way out the door.
Relieved, the bartender finally slides a shot glass semi full of amber liquid towards Amber, her iPhone clutched tightly in hand in the middle of probably a Facebook post. =/=
“No charge”
“I wasn’t planning on paying regardless”
=/= Knocking back the shot, Amber scowls as the fiery liquid hits her throat, leaving the glass on the bar she makes her way back towards the stage, wiping the tiny trickle of blood from her chin leaving only the remnants of a red smear. Retaking her seat, her hand on the microphone, she contemplates lifting it to her lips but instead tosses it aside, watching it tumble across the dirty carpeted stage. =/=
(To be continued and ended in Part 3)
As a ‘funny guy’ I’m sure you’re ‘jokes’ are enough to make all the other kindergartners cry and beg for their mommy to come defend their honor but unfortunately I have a little bit thinner skin than that- cue another ass joke?
Oh please… As if I haven’t heard it all before."
=/= The older gentleman stirs in his chair before violently vomiting onto the floor beside him, splattering his expensive business pants before seemingly passing out on the table again with his mouth agape.
Amber ss, perhaps towards the intoxicated old man or perhaps from the thoughts racing through her unbalanced mind. =/=
“You want to speak your mind as if your insults are bullets, unfortunately for you, the only shooting you know how to do is into a Kleenex. Bless you.
Cheap pops for forgettable puns aren’t going to put me down Harold, crappy one liners about necrophilia aren’t going to damage me and making sexist wisecracks about my ass? It only backs up my theory about your homoerotic fantasies.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but your shitty jokes? They aren’t even worth my time to listen to.
I want you to hold onto you’re precious playground quality insults for just a minute because I don’t think you quite understand what you’re getting yourself into- you’re leaving the safety of a world where the most damaging thing is when a critic didn’t think your joke about your next door neighbours mom being a total MILF was funny enough and into a place where the masses bay and champ at the bit for your blood to be splattered across the floor like some ritual sacrifice towards their insatiable bloodlust.
You can see it in their glazed over eyes, every time your skinny ass is broken just a little more, their excitement will grow. Every sickening bump; every thud of your head against canvas, against concrete, against steel will only serve to make them thirst for more.
Speaking of such dark thing makes me emo? Perhaps. I have a better description for what it makes me- it makes me a realist, unlike you? I actually understand what will happen every time I step out in front of those people, that no matter what we do, we will never satisfy the voracious appetite for violence.
Feel free to keep making your jokes but they’re just going to keep bouncing off me like your head will be bouncing off that canvas.”
=/= Amber takes a long drag, delighting in the sudden hit of nicotine coursing through her body as she knocks off the growing cluster of ashes from the cherry.
She watches as the hooded men become more insistent, more forceful towards the blonde bartender- her features rapidly changing from captivated to anxious. The men raise their voices in their insistence that she comes for a walk with them but still she refuses.
With an almost intrigued expression, Amber drops the microphone onto the stage beside her and makes her way towards the commotion at the bar, her sticky footsteps quickly attracting the attention of the two hooded figures as they look her up and down greedily. Instead of looking at the two men however, Amber turns to the obviously nervous bartender. =/=
“Can I get a shot of whatever you recommend…”
=/= The blonde bartender looks at Amber, then back to the men as if she were waiting for permission but when no one says anything she quickly moves as far down the bar as humanly possible. Amber in the meantime sizes up the two men, wearing near identical black hoodies with one guy being noticeably bigger than his more mouthy counterpart, she carefully places her still smouldering cigarette onto the bar surface hoping it won’t ignite with all the past alcohol spilled across its surface, as the smaller of the two men pulls his hoody back.
His skinny face was contorted into an ugly sneer, bleached blonde hair cut so short it needn’t even be there and his dark beady eyes clearly undressing her. =/=
“What can I do for you sweetheart?”
=/= His patronizing words were filled with spite, clearly he saw Amber as nothing more than a piece of meat for his own entertainment.=/=
“Actually nothing, just thought I’d mosey on over and see what’s going on”
=/= He chuckles as he look to his counterpart to see if he too found her comment comical, Amber stands by with a mischievous grin. =/=
“Am I missing something funny here?”
“Course not darlin’, now why don’t you just be on your way while we sort our business with this other lovely young lady.”
=/= He licks his lips lustfully as he watches the bartender, she shoots him a disgusted look, Amber doesn’t move though. Her face a blank canvas, taking in the filth before her. =/=
“Well? Get going…”
=/= The annoyance in his voice was growing by the moment, the hunger and lust in his eyes growing into rage. =/=
“You know? I get this funny feeling she wants nothing to do with your ‘business’ so how about you kindly fuck off.”
“She’s got some balls this one… I like it”
=/= Making a swift grabbing motion towards Amber’s arm he only gets air and a sharp kick to the crotch for his efforts, doubling over in pain he wheezes to his partner. =/=
“What are you waiting for?!”
=/= The larger of the men moves around his comrade, resting a hand on his back briefly out of sympathy before throwing a fist in Amber’s direction- she narrowly ducks out of the way and moves out between tables. =/=
“It’s really not very nice to try hit a girl”
=/= The big man ignores her remark, instead stalking her as she slowly weaves between the tables and moving chairs into his way, he tries to move the tables only to find them bolted into the ground. In the brief moment of his distraction with the tables, Amber scrambles onto the table top nearest, racing and leaping across the couple of tables distance with light feet and strikes the big man with a jarring flying knee to the jaw.
Stumbling back, he lands with a heavy thud on the sticky wooden floor, disoriented by the force and surprise of the strike.
Amber sarcastically dusts herself off before retuning her attention to the smaller of the two men, still doubled over in agony as she approached, however as soon as she is within reach- he strikes out with a wild fist that catches her in the mouth. She stumbles back a couple of steps as a droplets of blood collect on her bottom lip, flashing the smaller man a brief smile she charges him using all her momentum to bend him over backwards on the bar, her forearm held firmly on his windpipe. =/=
“What did I say about trying to hit girls?”
=/= Out of the corner of her eye she spies the smouldering cigarette within her arms length, burned almost down to the butt, without taking the pressure off the mans throat, she reaches and takes it up between her fingers. His eyes grow wide as the cigarette is brought closer, Ambers eyes travel from him, to the cigarette, and back as his fear grows. =/=
“You wouldn’t… Crazy bitch…”
“Maybe we should find out”
=/= His words rasp as Amber holds the glowing cherry just above his skin, close enough for him to feel the heat, he struggles only to have Amber increase the pressure across his windpipe. Closing his eyes, he waits for the intense burning sensation however Amber instead takes a final drag from the cigarette, blowing the cloud of smoke into the mans reddening face.
Suffocating, gasping for air, Amber finally releases the man- he staggers away still staring at her in total outrage as he coughs and pants for breath. Finding his larger friend sprawled out, confused on the floor a short distance away, he tries to drag him off the floor in several unsuccessful attempts before simply hissing at him to come along.
Eventually the larger man finds his feet and follows unsteadily as the smaller man murmurs insults Ambers way as he makes his way out the door.
Relieved, the bartender finally slides a shot glass semi full of amber liquid towards Amber, her iPhone clutched tightly in hand in the middle of probably a Facebook post. =/=
“No charge”
“I wasn’t planning on paying regardless”
=/= Knocking back the shot, Amber scowls as the fiery liquid hits her throat, leaving the glass on the bar she makes her way back towards the stage, wiping the tiny trickle of blood from her chin leaving only the remnants of a red smear. Retaking her seat, her hand on the microphone, she contemplates lifting it to her lips but instead tosses it aside, watching it tumble across the dirty carpeted stage. =/=
(To be continued and ended in Part 3)
