Saturday, January 17, 2009

Helena, Birthday Girl

Helena had set her alarm for 6:30 a.m. because that was the time she usually got up for school. She wouldn’t be going today for many reasons, the main one being because it was her birthday- she was 7 today.
The alarm went off and she leapt from her bed to stop it. After dancing around her room for a moment, she crept down stairs for breakfast trying not to make any noise.
In the kitchen, she poured herself a big bowl of Cocoa Krispies and covered them with chocolate milk. Before, her mother had told her that she could do this, but only on her birthday.
As she ate, she smiled to herself over how much chocolate there was.
When she was done, she placed the bowl in the dishwasher and made her way back upstairs. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and got into her prettiest dress. Her mother said that she could wear it all day, but only because it was her birthday.
Downstairs again, she turned on the television. It was only static. It had been this way for a while. She wanted to watch cartoons all day. But since the television didn’t work she decided to make decorations for her party. Thinking for a moment, she realized that she could easily ruin her pretty dress if she made decorations in it, so she took it off and hung it in the hallway closet.
After getting out of her dress, Helena decided that the best thing to do would be to ride her tricycle around the house in her underwear. Normally this wouldn’t be allowed, riding in the house, but today was special. With every third or fourth lap around the house, she’d stop in the kitchen to “gas up” by drinking a bit of apple juice. As she drank, she looked out from the kitchen window into the neighborhood. There were so many people walking around out there. She wondered where they could all be going. Certainly not to her party. They’d just ruin it, stomping around the kitchen…
At this point Helena decided that in order to properly make birthday decorations, she’d need a super girl cape. In the hallway closet, she took out the long blue beach towel and pinned it around her neck. After a few super girl-styled victory laps around the living room, she started on the decorations.
As she lay in the living room floor drawing decorations in her slip and super girl cape, she could hear her parents. As soon as she was done with her decorations, she’d show them and then begin on her birthday pudding. She’d wanted to cook her own cake, but her mother said she couldn’t she decided instead, then, to make pudding in a big bowl and cover it in whipped cream.
Helena knew that she wouldn’t be getting any presents today. Her parents couldn’t give her parents anymore. She was sad about this at first, but realized that this meant she could make her own gifts.
She glued plastic beads and glitter all over a Quaker Oats box, then attached some yarn to the top and made a chandelier. She glued some pictures from the time she and her parents went to the big zoo to construction paper, and then used Popsicle sticks to make a frame, then wrapped all the presents in old Sunday comics because they were the most colorful.
By the time she finished this, it was already time for lunch. Helena went to the kitchen and found herself a pepperoni lunchables. She counted that there was only two of those left. There wasn’t much food in the kitchen at all. She’d have to be really resourceful when she made her birthday dinner.
There was macaroni and hot dogs and pretzels and soon she’d make pudding. She couldn’t think of a better birthday dinner. When the clock struck 5, she’d start on dinner. It was only noon now, and she was full from her Lunchables and decided to watch a DVD.
Helena fell asleep watching The Great Muppet Caper on DVD. She dreamt about a glorious, glamorous birthday party. All of her friends were there, and each one had their own horse. As her guests sat upon their horses, Helena made a grand entrance from the crystal castle she lived in on her beautiful pink unicorn.
She rode around all the guests as they cheered, and when they were done cheering, she started to open her presents.
The king of America got her a helicopter. The queen of Canada got her a Super Girl cape that really let her fly. The master of France got her an even pinker more beautiful unicorn, and the emperor of London got her a life sized Barbie robot. The best present of all, though, came from her parents. They whisked her away in a hot air balloon and took her on a trip to every place in the world.
When Helena woke, she finished the banner she’d been working on for the party, made her birthday pudding, and set the table. After this she ran to get back into her party dress and put some bows into her hair for good measure.
At long last, everything was prepared for Helena’s 7th birthday celebration. She turned on some music, lit some candles, and made a birthday wish. Before she had some pudding, she remembered one last thing…
Helena took the banner she’d worked so hard on to the front window and pulled back the curtains to show it to her Mom and Dad- as well as the hundreds of other walking corpses that were trying desperately to get into the house.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Coming soon...

Everything you ever wanted to know about Hovercrafts, but were afraid to ask...

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Excerpts from “Family Guy” creator Seth McFarlane’s self-written Wedding Vows.

Standing here, now, ready to make you my partner in life’s journey makes me happy- much happier than the time I found Chris Kattan in my rice pudding.
Since I’ve met you, I have not known loneliness, fear, regret. The only feeling in my heart is joy and love and happiness- like the feeling Papa Smurf gets when he bites into a peppermint patty; my heart is like a midget on Gilligan’s Island.
Before you, my life was as empty as Geraldo Rivera’s broom closet. Most of my days were as sad as Stephen Hawking’s autobiography on tape as read by a gay Elvis Impersonator.
I promise I will lie to you or betray you or make you kill your baby like Hawkeye did on the last episode of M*A*S*H. I will never disappear like Ritchie’s older brother Chuck Cunningham or change like they changed the voice actors on The Real Ghostbusters animated series from Lorenzo Music to Dave Coulier.
Hey! Remember Monchi-chi?
Simply put, I love you more than Grand Moff Tarkin loves Alyssa Milano’s Teen Steam workout videos.
(At this point, Seth is attacked by a giant chicken. The two engage in fisticuffs. The fights ridiculous length is only matched by its comic ingeniousness.)
If I could go back in time to meet you again and again, I would. I’d use the Doc’s time machine to do it. The one that he left in the cave at the end of Back to the Future II, the one that Marty used to go back to 1885 and save the Doc’s life. Hey, why wasn’t there a time machine waiting in the 1885 cave when Marty got back to the west? You’d think that there would have been- and they could have used that time machine to go back to 1985 instead of having to use a train to push their DeLorean to 88 MPH. I’m just saying.
And what was up with the guy that created Cyberdyne in T2 using the arm of the Terminator from the first movie as a method to create the technology that would ultimately create Terminators? That logic was as iffy as Gary Glitter’s line of disposable diapers.
I am ready for our lives to be as one. I have searched my whole life for a love like ours. I have searched for a person that I can know cares about me. I have searched for someone that cared about me.
All I wanted, really, was someone that asked me how my day was, and genuinely wanted to know.
And then I found you. I won’t say I knew you were the one when we met. But I’ll tell you when I knew.
You’d finally agreed to go out with me, and we took a picnic lunch up to the state park because I wanted to sit amongst the cherry trees and watch with you as the blossoms fell.
You were telling me about your dreams to be a painter, and looking off into the distance as you often do when you talk about your dreams.
The blossoms were raining around you, and the light hit you in a way that made you look like an absolute fantasy. You were a dream. You were my dream. And all I wanted to do was to kiss you. I was afraid to, because this was only our first date, but I knew that if I didn’t take this chance that I’d regret it forever. I knew that if I didn’t take this chance, then there would probably never be another…
I touched you face, and you looked at me and smiled. And I kissed you.
And I cried.
Remember, we both laughed because I was embarrassed by my tears; but at the same time, I was not. These were my first ever true tears of happiness.
I can’t promise you the moon. I can’t promise you the best things in life. All I can promise is that I will never stop trying to get you those things, and so much more. All that I can promise is that my heart and my soul belong to you, through sickness and through health, for richer and for poorer.
Because when I imagine a life without you, it makes me feel sad. Life without you, just the thought of it, makes me want to commit suicide- the way that Barbra’s friend Melanie tried to commit suicide by taking a bottle full of pills after Barbra broke the tiny glass giraffe that Melanie had given her on the first part of the two part episode of One Day at a Time entitled “Barbra’s best friend”.
(At this point, Seth sings “Without you” by Harry Nilsson in its entirety.)

Monday, January 12, 2009

Harry Potter Fan Fiction!

For years, people have been telling me that I should be reading Harry Potter.
I always used the same excuse when I told them I didn’t want to; I can’t retain fictional names and places in my fiction reading.
While this was more truth than excuse, the time has come to lay it all on the line-
I have been reading the Harry Potter books!
Like all of you, I went absolutely short-bus for every new installment of the world’s favorite boy wizard in trouble, and I even refused to read the last book online when I found out that it was available.
As a matter of fact, I haven’t read the last book at all! I’m, waiting so that I can read it with my son, if I ever have one, after we have shared each preceding book together.
So don’t ruin it for me.
I do have something I’d like to share with you all, though.
After I finished reading the penultimate Potter book, I decided to write my own final book to see if I’d been properly following the tale.
I had a feeling that if I’d been truly paying attention to the clever clues that J.K. Rowling had been giving me, that I’d be right about 80% of my predictions.
So, without further ado, here are some excerpts from my own final book in the Harry Potter story which I had no choice but to call:


Page 9
Professor Snape spun around to find Dumbledore standing behind him. With a huge and sinister grin covering his face, Dumbledore cast a flammable spell and lit the Chesterfield that hung from the corner of his mouth.
“But, you’re dead!” Snape said, backing away and reaching for his wand. “I smote you from the balcony!”
Dumbledore began to snicker. His snicker turned into a full-body laugh. When he stopped, he stared at Snape and took the 45mm from the small of his back.
“Smite this.” Dumbledore said, and began to shoot.
Snape immediately cast a bullet-time spell on himself, and dodged every last shot!

Page 138
Harry walked into his secret hideout and looked around at all the Horcruxes he’d collected.
There was a giant penny, a giant playing card, and life size robotic Tyrannosaurs Rex.
Satisfied, but beaten, he sat down to think about what he had to do next.
“I made a mistake” Harry thought to himself. “I have to have Ginny Weasley, and if I can’t…I have to kill her!”

Page 207
“I vowed to aid Draco Malfoy on his mission” Snape began, “And to complete it if he were to fail.”
“Oh yeah?” Ron Weasley responded, and cast a Chow-Yun Fatus spell on himself.
“Well maybe you can aid Draco in eating me!” Said Ron as he cast aside his gay-ass wand, and pulled two 45’s from his robe.
“Please,” Patronized Snape, “I invented that shit!”
And with that, they were popping caps!
Snape’s silenced glocs buzzed red-hot lead past Ron’s head like bees from hell, but Ron was no stranger to cap busting.
He’d had a gun in his hand since before he could walk.
When he was younger, he’d sit just outside of the local quidditch field and shoot at the seekers he thought looked at him funny.
But today was the truest test.
Ron dodged every shot Snape took, and returned in kind. Casting the Chow-Yun spell meant he’d never run out of bullets and would only have to reload if it were cool looking. But he had to counter the Bullet-time spell he was sure Snape was certainly using.
Suddenly, inspiration took hold!
Ron knew that if he lure Snape into the woods, a dragon or a giant, or something would totally grab Snape and save him.
He would then use his last remaining dragon/giant piercing bullet to shoot through the “whatever” and into Snapes heart.
Unfortunately for Ron, Harry was thinking the same thing as he and Voldemort had their drunken-style kung-fu battle in the next room…

Page 278
Hermione’s time travel spell had worked- she was finally home!
“Now everything will be back to the way it was.” She thought.
Unfortunately, Hermione was unaware that while she wasn’t looking, future Malfoy had used her time travel amulet to go into the past and give a sports almanac to his past self.
He had also gone far enough into the past to step on a butterfly, thus assuring himself unlimited victory against all muggles and half-bloods.
There was, though, one thing that would become completely clear to Hermione Granger- Draco Malfoy was as awesome as balls!

Page 412
“I only took the job as defense against the dark arts teacher to keep an eye on you, Harry” said Gleeglebort Snopsnix. “And you have disappointed me at every turn!”
Snopsnix hit harry across the face again with the magical sock filled with quarters.
“I hate you and your stupid face!” cried Snopsnix through tears of pain and repressed memories.

Page 2565
All the young wizards gathered around Harry’s body.
Some were secretly glad that he was finally dead. Honestly, since his arrival at Hogwart’s he’d put them in more and more danger with each passing year.
Finally, someone spoke.
“Thank you for killing Harry Potter, Lord Voldemort.” Yelled the one black wizard child that could afford to go to Hogwart’s.
“I was so tired of that punk’s whining and shit!”
“I’m sorry it had to happen.” Responded Voldemort. “All I wanted to do was test him enough to make him stronger. He was to be the chosen one- the greatest wizard ever.”
Voldemort gently caressed his own nose holes, and choked back a tear.
“Now he’s dead. Oh well.”
“Wait!” Said Hermione as she descended from the sky with her Jango Fett styled jet pack.
“There is a spell- one I’ve been working on that can bring Harry back!”
Some of the kids groaned silently, but the majority of them knew that Harry could be an okay guy when he hadn’t been drinking.
They all began to nod, and Voldemort did as well.
He walked over to Hermione and handed her his wand.
“You’ll need this.” Voldemort said, winked, and walked to the back of the crowd- he wasn’t stupid!
Hermione gathered all of her strength and raised the wand to the sky.
She flicked it there, high above her head, then brought it down and pointed it at Harry.
Livus againicum!” Shouted Hermione as a burst of energy flew out of the wand and towards Harry in three fiery bursts.
The young wizards of Hogwart’s all looked on silently as Hermione knelt beside Harry’s lifeless body.
‘You’ve never given up on anything in your life,” She whispered into Harry’s ear.
“Don’t give up now…”
Before Hermione could pull away, Harry was reanimated and biting into her neck and right shoulder.
The young wizards began to scream and run, but they were too slow because Harry was the living dead, and had passed his disease to Hermione.
Potter and Granger sprinted into the crowd, catching and biting any young wizard that was unlucky enough to fall.
The kids trampled each other as they tried to find safety inside the halls of Hogwart’s school for wizardry, but Potters cannibalistic sickness was faster than their small and innocent feet.
Soon, the school was an orgy of screaming and biting.
From above on a nice and secluded balcony, Neville Longbottom watched, smiling.
Finally, he was the master of the Neverthus Was.
Finally, he was as awesome as balls.
The end.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Dumpster Davis: Undercover Amateur Porn Star Cop

This one is a bit long, but consider it an apology for the lack of updates over the weekend.
also, it is split up into small sections so you can take a little in when you feel like it.

I wish I could tell you the origin of this thing- I don't know. I had the character name and the story about Flickr based on my hopping around Flickr to friend the various exhibitionist wives that live there, and this is the story that came out.

there was more to it- an anecdote about one of my ex-girlfriends and a her sad habit about mixing her troubled past in with her current sexual habits, but i think I'll save that for later... sigh.

She loved renaissance fairs. She had lots of cats. She loved Star Trek.
Dumpster should have run, but her cleavage was impossibly sweet.
She always had an excuse to slip into a corset and take photos of herself and she put them all on Flickr. There were sets of her in and out of corsets, and sets of her nipples from every angle.
Classically, she was not really attractive but her attitude made her sexy. Soon, Dumpster was brought into her amateur online photography sessions.
He was embarrassed at first, but his face didn't appear in any of the pictures, so he got over it quickly.
Slowly but surely, they began to get crazier in the pictures. People added them as contacts with great frequency. Before he knew it, Dumpster was an online celebrity without even trying and without ever showing his face.
One night while they were relaxing with a ST:TNG episode featuring the Borg, she told him that some people she'd met online wanted to meet and take pictures.
The deal was the same: there was to be no shots of Dumpster’s face and he wouldn't have to do much more than just stand there and snap the pictures.
All he had to do was point the camera and snap the pictures of his girlfriend, the guest star girl and his on privates on occasion.
He agreed, and two weeks later she arrived. Dumpster was surprised by the fact that he actually knew the girl. He'd tried unsuccessfully to flirt with her when he'd worked at the same bookstore as her 16 years ago. Now here she was, willing and somewhat excited to have amateur sex with him and show the world.
He could tell that she recognized him but they both decided in a brief moment of telepathy not to mention it. They greeted each other as strangers and Dumpster’s girlfriend retrieved wine from the kitchen. After many glasses and some small talk, the activities slowly began. To get warmed up, Dumpster started to kiss his girlfriend, then his girlfriend kissed the guest star girl.
In an arrangement set up by his girl earlier, Dumpster was not allowed to kiss the guest star girl. This was the only thing he wasn't allowed, though.
So for three hours they did it, snapped photos, did it, and snapped photos.
It was the closest he’d ever come to poetry. When it was all over, they both thanked her and she left.
His girl promptly put the photos online that night. The comments immediately started to pour in.
They were the most popular they’d ever taken.
A month later, he bumped into the guest star girl at a coffee shop.
They talked about what we'd been up to since working together all those years ago. They never talked about the photo shoot.
They both wanted to bring it up, but they didn't know how to or where it would go from there.
After talking for about an hour, she left to pick up her kids from school.
When Dumpster got home, his girl told him about the newest girl that wanted to shoot with them.
He looked over her photos and agreed.
He didn't know her.

Dumpster Davis lit what he told himself would be his last cigarette. To make this feeling clear, he crumpled the rest of the half-full pack and threw it in the trash. It was around 1:30, and the meeting was set for right now. The lady was late, and Dumpster didn’t like this. He had other things to do. Still, he had to do his duty. The faded wallpaper reminded Dumpster of the Wallpaper in his grandmother’s basement toilet. He couldn’t believe it, but this actually choked him up a little. He snickered to cover the fact that he was near tears, and took another puff from the Camel.
Cam lit what most certainly would not be his last cigarette, and reached out towards the remote controller.
“What’s so funny?” Cam asked.
“This wallpaper,” Dumpster started, “It reminds me of something, that’s all”
Cam found the fact that it was bolted to the nightstand slightly amusing. This was a different cable system than his own, so it took a few moments for him to find something to watch. At home he’d be watching the second of an hour of Just Shoot Me episodes. Here, he settled for My Three Sons- a color episode where Chip was too old and looked like a future Molester.
Outside of a couple comments about how high Uncle Charley’s pants were, they didn’t talk much. Their stories were straight, they knew what they had to do, and all they needed was the lady.
The lady knocked at the door at 1:45. This wasn’t late enough for Dumpster to be angry, but he was annoyed.
Cam answered the door, and the woman rushed in and handed him a baby.
“I’m sorry I’m late, ya’ll” She said “I had to bring the baby with me.”
Cam stood near the door dumbfounded by the fact that he was now holding a wiggling white baby of indiscriminate gender. The lady paced around the room and rambled on nonstop. She talked about how folks didn’t respect their elders and how she figured that’s why the terrorists were winning. She talked about how there were always too many spics and coloreds at the Wal-Mart near the new mall. She talked about how she’d have to miss her A.A. meeting if we didn’t get going, yet she never got to the point.
Cam watched as she finally calmed down and slinked over to the bed and sat across from Dumpster. She dug for a while through the Korean made Dooney and Burke purse she was carrying, and eventually pulled a loose cigarette from somewhere in the bottom. She asked Dumpster for a light, and he obliged, leaning forward and flicking his Bic. She cupped his hands to shield the flame from nonexistent drafts in the room. She then leaned back onto the bed, crossing her legs and running her corpse-thin fingers through her thinning blood brown hair.
“So, how does it work?” She asked Dumpster.
“Basically, you tell us what you want.” Dumpster replied.
She started to talk about how her daughter-in-law was a crook and a whore. She talked about how she didn’t know what her son saw in her or how she’d tricked her son into marrying her, but now? She had to go.
Dumpster put out the last cigarette he’d ever have, and narrowed his eyes at the woman.
“Just what are you saying, now?” Dumpster asked.
“I’m saying I want you to kill that tramp.” The lady said, and then started laughing. “I mean, that’s why we’re here, right?”
She reached into her purse and took out a large envelope.
“Jimmy Ray on the phone said 20” she said, and extended the envelope towards Dumpster. “It’s all there.”
As the cops rushed the room and placed the woman under arrest, Dumpster continued to stare at the wallpaper.
It reminded him of a time when there weren’t so many degenerates in his life. It reminded him of when he wasn’t himself a degenerate.
Dumpster began to cry for real this time, but no one made a big deal out of it.

When she left, she said it was because he didn’t support her. It was after a night of particularly sweaty Devil’s business that was all captured on tape.
Dumpster got up early in order to edit out all of the clumsy fumbling and other embarrassing parts that come with real-life sex so that he could upload the results to the Internet.
She walked into the room and sat quietly by; watching Dumpster work- snipping out any talking that wasn’t sexy and making sure his own face was blurred.
“You don’t support me.” She said, completely out of nowhere.
“I’m sorry?” he answered, saved his progress, and turned to her.
“There are things that I want to do, and you have made no effort to help me achieve them!” She said, and waited for his response.
But Dumpster didn’t have one. None of the skills he’d learned during his 15 years being a homicide detective prepared him for moments like this.
She was always accusing him of things that he didn’t do, and blaming him for actions he never took. He thought that it was her way of being passionate. She loved to fight, and he often obliged her because it always led to getting it on.
But there was something in her voice this time that gave him pause. This time, He thought, she meant it.
The simple fact was he did support her. Always. He had put his entire career as a police detective into jeopardy because she wanted to have sex and show the world online. Sure, his face was hidden most of the time, but it wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. All they’d have to do was see the tattoos. They were very distinctive.
What else could she possibly want? He sat there waiting for her to elaborate, but she never did. She was, of course, expecting Dumpster to know exactly what she was talking about. But he didn’t.
They sat there in silence for ten minutes; she fumed, and he was confused but steady.
Eventually, she sighed hard, and started to pack. Dumpster watched this and thought that at some moment he was probably supposed to stop her.
But he never did, and she left without saying another word.
Dumpster didn’t know whether she’d be back or not. He didn’t know where she was going or what she’d do when she got there. Even though he couldn’t say with complete clarity that he didn’t want to lose her, he thought sometimes that it would be a bummer if he lost her.
He pulled up the footage from the night before, which was particularly nasty and vocal, and went through it- making sure that his face was completely uncovered- Then he put it all online.

Dumpster had been sitting in a car outside of Daedalus Mancuso’s townhouse for a little over six hours. He’d gone through six bags of sunflower seeds (unshelled), two Route 44 Strawberry Lime-aides, 24 cheese Krystal’s (extra Onion), and since he had begun smoking again, three packs of Virginia Slims.
“You’ve come a long way, Baby” Dumpster said to himself and he ripped into pack number four- Virginia Slims were all they had at the corner market near Mancuso’s pad.
Dumpster’s partner, Cam, was catching a cat nap in the back seat of the champagne colored Dodge Sedan. Cam talked in his sleep, and even though what he said rarely made much sense, Dumpster copied down every word for posterity.
“I’m after that guy…” Cam said, and Dumpster jotted it down.
Daedalus Mancuso had been in hiding for two years following a shootout at a Popeye’s chicken that left 7 dead and 6 injured. Now, he was back in town looking to collect on a few old debts. Dumpster’s informant had given him the address, and they had been sitting on the house in shifts of two for three days. He’d been seen going into the house but he never came out. Eventually there would be a search warrant and they could go inside, but it probably wouldn’t matter. Dumpster had a feeling that Daedalus was dead due to some dealings with the Samus brothers. They were into the voodoo.
“You don’t support me” Cam grunted from the backseat.
The word had come down that Daedalus wasn’t supposed to leave that house. Lot’s of cop’s jobs were on the line if he did. Dumpster and Cam had been given the job to see if they were “cool” or not. Dumpster was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dirty. He didn’t want to kill a man- not for the wrong reasons. Daedalus was a bastard and deserved to be in jail- hell, possibly even to die- but not this way.
Dumpster hoped that Daedalus really was dead in there or that the warrant would hurry and come through- Anything to get him and Cam off the hook.
“We should just do it.” Cam said. Dumpster started to write this down, and then noticed that Cam was no longer asleep.
“We should just do it and be done with it.”

Dumpster sat at the bus station watching all the innocent people arrive and all the trash ship out to new locations. There was an order to the entire thing.
She said that she’d be arriving on a 2:40 bus from Austin. He’d been waiting for over an hour- the bus had been delayed in Louisiana.
He felt something he hadn’t felt in quite some time- excitement. He hadn’t seen her in three months since she’d left in a huff and gone back to her parents.
She’d seen that he had kept the sight going without her- with some of the girls he’d met of Craig’s list and Flickr. She called and told him that she was happy that he was finally taking this all so seriously. She said that6 she was glad that he wanted to support her dream.
Dumpster sat and smoked as he waited, and thought about how eventually the other shoe would drop. She was coming back because he’d done what she wanted. He’d done what she wanted even though it would eventually cost him his job. His partner, Cam, had been locked up for putting two into the base of Daedalus Mancuso’s skull, and even though Dumpster refused to testify, Cam still blamed him for not going along with the whole thing.
Still, he sat there smoking a Virginia Slim (he’d taken a liking to them) and trying desperately to convince himself that he was happy. She was coming back, and he told himself that that was what he wanted.
He could be happy. Even if he lost his job, his pension, and any remaining credibility, he’d still have her. Eventually, he thought, she’d mellow out and let this whole Internet porn thing go. He told himself that it was a phase.
He told himself that he could learn to love her.
He lit another cigarette.
Dumpster Davis sat there; thinking about the future and convincing himself that he was happy, or at least damn well close to it, and his left hand began to tingle.
That tingle crept up his arm and down his leg.
Dumpster tried to catch his breath, but couldn’t. No one noticed.

DUMPSTER quietly drank his Orange Julius and watched as kids made their way to the mall Santa’s lap to tell the jolly old elf all of their hopes and dreams. The mall was packed today- it was the last weekend before Christmas. All Dumpster had to do was pick up something called a Bionicle for his girlfriend’s son, Ray. He was glad to do it, especially since it was an actual toy and not a video game.
Dumpster had been working with the boy, tossing the ball around and teaching him to ride a bike. He didn’t want to come on too strong- like he was doing all of these things just because of Ray’s mother. But, Ray was a genuinely good kid and joy to be around.
Dumpster was originally weary about starting a relationship with a woman that already had a kid. At first, he didn’t think it would work out based on the fact that he was in it with her just for the sex. Then, after he got to know her and his son, he was afraid that they’d become too close. Now here he was buying the kid toys from the mall for Christmas- toys that he was sure the kid would like.
When Dumpster stood and began to make his way towards the toy store he felt that something was off a bit. He felt that someone was watching him.
He continued to walk until he was near the Victoria’s Secret. He slowed his pace, and used the reflection in the store’s glass to get a view of everything behind himself.
There was a man in his mid twenties dressed like he’d grown up in the hood but carrying himself like a middle class punk. On his arm was a girl that looked even younger. She was wide eyed, giggly. He was dressed like some modern-day Annie hall- mismatched and covered in scarves and buttons.
Dumpster knew what they wanted before he even turned around. They had recognized him from his Internet sex films.
It had played out like so- the hood suburban gangster had seen the films. He had then shown them to his girlfriend. He’d tried to make his own, but she was hesitant. He romanced her until she allowed him to tape their most intimate moments. They were awkward at first, incredibly amateurish. Slowly but surely, though, he began to make small steps to make these films watch able. He added lighting. He got her to stop looking at the camera. They both shaved. Eventually, he’d convinced her that they needed someone else to handle the camera work. He tossed out some names of people that she might trust, but she didn’t want any of his friends watching her have sex.
He knew that if he pushed the issue, he’d lose the chance so he played it calm. Eventually, he convinced her that one of his Bro’s should film them to leave them free to do what they wanted- and to make the best product.
Dumpster turned to them, ready. The hood yuppie had already taken out the unlabeled DVD and was preparing to deliver his spiel.
Dumpster stopped the kid before he could start.
“Don’t ever show that to anyone” He said.
“Don’t turn your sex life into a product. It is no way to live.” He finished, looked at them briefly as their smiles faded, and walked away towards the toy store.
Later, at home, he and his new girlfriend found themselves alone. He thought about whether she could make a good wife to him when he finally decided to settle down.
She mentioned that she wanted implants.
“We would get more web hits if I were an E cup.” She mused.

THOUGH Dumpster had been shot before, this time- a shot to the gut- really F%&*ing hurt. He waited in the alley, behind a pile of empty pallets, for back-up. It was Daedalus Mancuso that had shot him. Dumpster had been tailing the thug all night, but Mancuso got the jump on him in the alley. Dumpster unloaded a clip as he was falling but he wasn’t sure if he’d hit Mancuso. It was more likely that a stray bullet had flown into someone’s home as they were watching The year without a Santa Claus or doing some last minute gift wrapping.
The stomach shot hurt like a bitch, but Dumpster was more annoyed by the swamp ass.
Swamp ass was the scourge of the unlucky man on a stake out. Sitting in one place for hours on end, the sweat would pool between the butt cheeks and mix with the ass-stink. If a guy had to hunker down in one place for hours on end it was crystal-clear that when the time came to finally make a move, his booty would be raw, wet, and fuming. All you could do was wear cotton tighty whiteys and avoid khakis at any cost.
After about 20 minutes of waiting, Dumpster was sure there was no back-up coming. He wasn’t sure why, but someone on the force had signed his death warrant tonight. Either Mancuso would return to finish the job or he’d bleed to death before he could get to any help.
At home his girl had put Ray to bed, and was waiting for Dumpster dressed like a naughty elf. She had his Santa suit laid out so that they could film the “backdoor Santa” scene their fans had been promised for Christmas morning.
As midnight rolled around, Dumpster decided that Mancuso was long gone and that he had to take the chance and get out of the alleyway on his own. He gathered all of the strength that he could, and started to pull himself up. He stumbled slowly past the pallets, past the garbage cans and dumpsters, and into the street. All was silent and cold. Is was dark and still on the street.
Dumpster fell against the wall of a building, and took out a cigarette. He was glad that he hadn’t quit smoking this week. He lit it, and took out his phone.
Dumpster called a cab to come ad take him to a hospital, and took out his badge to show to the driver or anyone that might happen by.
As he sat there on his wet and raw ass, bleeding from his stomach in a nearly helpless state on Christmas morning, he thought to himself-
“This isn’t even my worst Christmas to date. Not by a long shot.”