kombat_baby

So imagine you're on a train, and the train is speeding wildly out of control down the track, with no one controlling it and no one who is going to be able to stop it if it comes to dead end or a steep drop or whatever. You've realized that you're going to have to jump off, but of course you're terrified about the consequences because jumping off of a speeding train is dangerous and will cause you a hell of a lot of really ugly bruises and potential damage. You spend the whole time you're on this speeding train edging closer and closer to the door, trying to figure out when the best time is to jump off.

This is the best way I can think of describe romantic relationships.

It is also now time for me to jump off the train.

So I keep talking about how I'm writing stuff...anyway, here's some stuff that I've been writing. It's part of a play I'm working on called "Literary License." This particular scene is supposed to be a somewhat cheesy, very cliche interaction between a local private eye and a local wanna-be superhero. It's kind of a story within a story...the play itself is about two feuding authors, and the detective and superhero in this scene are they characters the two authors are trying to get published.
I've discovered that trying to explain  the premise of what I'm writing is really impossible, so give it a read and see what you think. If you catch a grammatical error, let me know...I miss them all the time cause of my eyes, gotta have Daniel look the scenes over for me to grammar check.
Remember: This part is SUPPOSED to be cheesy. I do not generally have my characters say things like "stop, evil doer," or reference "the sanctity of morality and the code of human law" otherwise.


ACT TWO
Scene One: A rooftop

[The rooftop of a ridiculously tall, menacing steel building. A mysterious man, dressed entirely in black, with a makeshift mask over his face to prevent identity exposure is standing on the roof, tying the wrists of BECKY, the feisty and sometimes dense sidekick of Detective DOLLY MARCH. BECKY is kicking at the masked man furiously, but she has the disadvantage, of having been taken from behind. She does, however, have the power to scream, and scream she does.]

BECKY: HELP!

ASSAILANT: No one can save you now…so you might as well stop caterwauling. You’re gonna give me a headache.

BECKY: (hopefully) That so? (louder, shriller) HELP-HELP-HELP-HELP-HELP-HELP-!

[The ASSAILANT, having successfully tied BECKY’s wrists, takes off one of his gloves and shoves it into her mouth. She sputters unhappily, and while she is protesting, the ASSAILANT tapes her mouth shut with an unnecessarily large and obvious piece of black duct tape.]

ASSAILANT: Jesus. More trouble than you’re worth, and that’s the truth.

[BECKY tries to bite his hand, which he snatches away. She is unsuccessful, and so proceeds to try to stomp on his toes. He jerks back, and she goes crashing to the ground, landing hard on her ass. While BECKY is making obvious signs of pain and frustration, DETECTIVE DOLLY MARCH (hereafter referred to as DOLLY for everyone’s sake) appears on the roof, having apparently climbed the stairs inside the building to the top. She is panting heavily, but looks angry and properly vengeful. Seeing BECKY, a brief look of relief passes over her face, after which point she turns all of her attention to the ASSAILANT.]

BECKY: (incoherently) Dolly!

DOLLY: Let her go, Amos, and we can try talking about this.

THE ASSAILANT: My name’s not Amos. I’m-!

DOLLY: You’re Amos Flynt, recently escaped from prison in a massive break that could only have been engineered by your former partner, Carrie “the Caper” Pendleton. You’ve hit three banks and two nursing homes in the last twenty four hours…and we met at a bar on April fifth when you were trying pick Becky up after your wife left you for the second time.

BECKY: (incoherently) No shit? I forgot all about that.

DOLLY: I’d imagine you would have. (back to the ASSAILANT0 So, as you can see, I’ve got everything I need to have on you. There’s nothing left for you to do. You’re cornered, and the cops are downstairs. Just untie Becky’s hands, and maybe we can work something out between us.

THE ASSAILANT: Why should I trust you?

DOLLY: I can’t think of a good reason. Do you have a better idea?

THE ASSAILANT: The police, you said?

DOLLY: Wouldn’t you rather get away, scot free, with all your money? Let my partner go, and I’ll give you a head start.

THE ASSAILANT: The great Dolly March? Fairfield County’s city’s golden girl? And you’re gonna just let me walk? I don’t buy it.

DOLLY: You have my word.

THE ASSAILANT: Yeah, that’s nice, but I also have a gun. (pulls a gun)

BECKY: (incoherently) Shit!

[DOLLY, almost as quickly, also pulls a gun. For a moment, it’s a standoff. Temporarily abandoning BECKY, AMOS begins circling towards the entrance to the stairwell, from which DOLLY recently emerged. He keeps his gun pointed at DOLLY, and circles with him, attempting to cover him with her gun and keep a wary eye on BECKY at the same time.]

DOLLY: Don’t do it, Amos. Take the easy way out. Drop the gun, and only your pride’s gonna hurt.

THE ASSAILANT: Nice meeting you again, detective.

[AMOs makes a lunge for the stairwell, but, just as he does, THE BULLET appears behind him, presumably having come from the stairwell, and grabs THE ASSAILANT by the shoulders.]

THE BULLET: Hold it right there, evil-doer.

[DOLLY and BECKY exchange an exasperated look.]

DOLLY: I can handle this, Matthew.

THE BULLET: (almost hissing it at her) Bullet! I’m The Bullet, okay? (clearing his throat) It looks as though you might want a little bit of help, Detective. This man is a dangerous criminal. Why, in the last twenty four hours, he has-!

DOLLY: (resignedly) robbed three banks and two nursing homes. I’ve got it. Thank you. You can go now-!

THE BULLET: And works with the infamous Perry Pendleton!

DOLLY: Worked. Past tense. Carrie Pendleton. Please go away. You’re attracting attention. Masked marauders usually do.

[DOLLY expertly kicks at the somewhat dumbfounded ASSAILANT, knocking his legs out from under him, and sending him crashing to the ground. As she kneels down to bind his wrists with a cord she pulls from one of her trench coat pockets, she doesn’t take her eyes or attention off of THE BULLET.]

DOLLY: As you can see, we’re good here.

THE BULLET: Wouldn’t have been if I’d been a couple of minutes later.

DOLLY: No, we’d still be good here.

THE BULLET: You would have had to shoot this man to prevent him from making his escape.

DOLLY: What a shame that would have been. Thank you EVER so much for preventing that unpleasant necessity.

BECKY: (incoherently) Hey, uh-!

THE BULLET: I’ve prevented you from resorting to criminal acts of violence.

DOLLY: Three banks, Matthew. The city would have forgiven me.

THE BULLET: What about your conscience? And for heaven’s sake, stop calling me that name!

DOLLY: Wouldn’t matter what I call you if you’d let me kill him. He wouldn’t exactly be spreading it around.

THE BULLET: Do you even have a sense of the sanctity of morality and the code of human law?

BECKY: (incoherently) DOLLY! HELP!

DOLLY: I am being lectured about the code of human law from a guy who runs around in spandex.

THE BULLET: It’s a cover.

DOLLY: It’s spandex. (tauntingly) Matthew.

THE BULLET: Gah! Stop-(beat) Look, just because I can’t afford polyester…

BECKY: (incoherently) SOMEONE PLEASE DO SOMETHING NOW PLEASE THANK YOU THAT WOULD BE GREAT!

THE BULLET: I think your friend needs a little help.

DOLLY: Go fly a kite.

THE BULLET: You’re welcome, detective.

[THE BULLET probably leaps off the building, but I leave that to your tech crew to figure out. In some way or other, he leaves the stage, and DOLLY returns to BECKY’s side to take the gag out of her mouth. BECKY sputters unhappily as she spits out the glove. DOLLY turns her attention to BECKY’s bound wrists.]

BECKY: Ugh, ick, yuck! He put his dirty sweaty glove in my mouth!

DOLLY: At least it wasn’t his sock.

BECKY: And you let him get away! After he put his-!

DOLLY: I didn’t let him do anything. We were interrupted…interfered with.

[She glances over her shoulder, in the direction from which both THE ASSAILANT and THE BULLET had left.]

DOLLY: One of these days I won’t let him walk away.

BECKY: Amos? I should think not, walking around stealing from old women and putting dirty clothing in people’s mouths, and-!

DOLLY: Not Amos. Matthew. (contemptuously, but also with a little grudging respect) The Bullet.

[DOLLY continues to stare dramatically off into the distance, as BECKY spits unhappily and rubs at her wrists.

Scene.]

So my uncle is getting married on Saturday.
I'm all for that. I like Sharon (the woman to whom he is getting married), and I think the whole getting hitched thing is a good idea...

But I'm kinda against the wedding itself.
It seems like a huge unneccessary hassle, really. Shiny dresses are all well and good, and I love them as much as the next girl does, but everthing else that weddings entail I could really do without.

I am going to be there, though, cause Oak (my uncle) has been so happy lately, now that things are finally starting to work out for him and Sharon, that it's wonderful to see. He's all smiley.

Unfortunately he is moving out of our basement. I don't blame him, nor do I blame Sharon for not wanting to join him in our basement...
But we'll miss him a lot.

(He's moving in a few streets down, though, so it's okay. :))

Boycott it with me. Please?

"Robert Downey Jr. brings the legendary detective to life as he has never been portrayed before. Jude Law stars as Holmes' trusted colleague, Watson, a doctor and war veteran who is a formidable ally for Sherlock Holmes. Rachel McAdams stars as Irene Adler, the only woman ever to have bested Holmes and who has maintained a tempestuous relationship with the detective. Mark Strong stars as their mysterious new adversary, Blackwood. Kelly Reilly will play Watson's love interest, Mary."
(Yahoo!Movies synopsis)

For one thing, Sherlock Holmes distinctly does not have facial hair. Robert Downey Jr, fail.
For another, Irene Adler does NOT HAVE A TEMPESTUOUS RELATIONSHIP with Sherlock Holmes. She meets him, outsmarts him, and gets the hell out of his life. Period. She is only ever referenced again once in the entire series, by Watson. If they have some sort of romantic entanglement in this movie...and you know they will.

They do say that any popular author who takes on Sherlock Holmes and tries to write him usually suffers a major blow to their writing career shortly afterwards. Jasper Fforde mentioned it as well in a talk he gave in DC a year or so ago.
I wonder if the same thing applies to directors?
I hope so. For this piece of trash, Guy Ritchie would deserve it.


...Jude Law will probably make a pretty awesome Watson, though.

My mom and I fight all the time. She has a quick temper, can be ridiculously irrational, and works for a group on capitol hill whom I rather staunchly disagree with in more ways than one.

But I will never forget the time that I woke up in an unknown Virginia hospital, completely blind, in terrible pain, and confused as hell. Mom had flown in from Alaska that morning, and she sat on my bed, turned on the television, and let me listen to my favorite shows while she narrated what was happening on the screen. She tried to make it as funny as possible, and once she had me laughing my ass off at the crazy descriptions of television, she made up my bed, tucked me into it, and curled up on the floor next to me, telling me to think of it as a slumber party. I couldn't sleep, so we stayed up all night laughing.

I spent two months in the hospital like that, and she was there every single day.

I love you, mom.
Happy mother's day.