(no subject)
Johnny Reb Leaves Jones Valley
Chapter 1:
Post Orgasm Blues
When I woke up she was gone. She had been my angel in beige, pink and blonde, providing me with half a reason to live through the night. And then, just like Sin City, She didn't. And the worst part? I fucking hate stories that start like that, and now I had to start one like that.
I'm different than Marv. I don't fall in love. Don't get me wrong, I'm capable of committing myself for the rest of my life, if I ever meet a girl worth doing that with (She wasn't). I just couldn't picture going to those lengths for revenge. So I guess I'm capable of falling in love, I'm just not very romantic.
I could really use something to help me think.
That's how we got into this mess, thinking. Now I'm dead and She (I'm still too bummed to use Her name) - I really need help thinking, if I can't keep straight who's alive and dead. We'd been going for almost three days, third time this month, and brains aren't famous for taking that kind of treatment. Assaulted, from without and within. Of course, we ran out, fucked, and crashed on the pullout in the den of a trailer somewhere in, probably, Phenix City.
Why didn't we go to sleep in the bedroom? There's only four rooms here, one of them must be a bedroom. Does somebody actually live here? Other than me and Her? Well, me. I'm not sure.
Here's the dilemma. I could try and cook up some thinking ability, if the ingredients are around anywhere, but I'll probably blow my damn face off, on account of not thinking straight until I get some thinkpowder up my nose. Not that it actually helps me think anymore, and there's nothing useful for making it anyway.
Quick search of the apartment.
- Two dead bodies, one my (ex)girlfriend, the other in the bedroom. Aneurism for the first, gunshot for the second.
- Old jar of mayonnaise. That's always useful.
- Car keys.
- Fifty Thousand, all from the Atlanta Mint, sequential numbers. (That's how I know it's fifty - subtraction).
- Some other shit, who cares. I grab the money, the car keys, and the mayonaise, and head outside.
A fucking Audi. I'd forgotten that She was rich. The trunk is stuck, or I'm just a little shaky, anyway, it doesn't open and the money goes into the backseat. Oh yeah, the money is in a laundry bag. The mayonnaise, myself and the car keys go into the front. I start the car, go back in, get a drink of water, and flee this nasty, nasty scene.
It takes me an hour and a half to find a concrete road, and then another thirty to get onto a road with numbers. From there it's almost 3 hours to Atlanta, because I keep making wrong turns. Somewhere near I-85 and 280 I realize that I am romantic enough to get revenge for Her death. It's just that that would involve killing me, and I can't quite bring myself to do that.
I wander around Little 5 Points until I find someone who looks enough like me. Sounding like a pedophile. "Pssst. Hey. I'll give you $500 for your driver's license." Get a hotel room, take a shower, call one of the people I know. "You know anyone with ATM's? I Got more than I can handle." Trade for a stack of prepaid AMEX cards. Use one, throw it away after 3 goes.
This gets me some nice clothes, nice enough to go find a new way of scoring. I run by Kinko's and print up a fake Georgia Tag Applied For thing. The Audi I take back to Little 5, parked behind Fellini's. I take off the plate, put the paper in the window. I catch a taxi up to Buckhead, and I disappear well enough for a while. Oh, my name changed. My favorite thing about buying that DL. I used to be Tony, but now I'm Tony. Crazy how that works. Different last names though.
Chapter 2:
Going Where There's No Depression
"So kiss me quick, before it gets dark and too scary to drive."
"Why are we trading cars again?"
"Because Tony is a paranoid crystal meth addict who thinks my car has started to draw attention. Now kiss me and give me your damn keys."
"I'm just not comfortable with this. The Jeep's a piece of shit and it just worries me. You're going to be in a trailer with a paranoid meth addict. Shouldn't you have a car fast enough to get away in?"
"It'll be fine. Now I'm leaving. You don't even get a kiss, just for being such an asshole."
"Look, " And she turned back, and her eyes turned big and green, like she cared what I was going to say more than she cared about anything, "I just worry cuz I love you."
"I love you too Johnny."
How fucking stupid is that? "Oh Jess, I love you." "Oh I love you too Johnny." If she loved me, why is she fucking Tony?
I figured this out because she left condoms that aren't our kind. OUR KIND OF CONDOMS. We went to the store and tried different brands, different goddamn "It'll be something we can tell our kids, hee hee" until we found the perfect fit, and then she has a box of some other kind in her glovebox. With one used. Like they might as well not use the rest. My dick's already rotting off, must be, I just haven't seen the speckles yet.
Call up Ed. "Hey Ed, look out for me. I'm headed out of town for a few."
"Look out for you?"
"Yeah, pick up any slack."
"What slack? You're not making sense."
"Look, I just need to step out for a couple of days. Watch my back."
"That powder's got you paranoid."
"I never touch it. Jess cheating on me has me fucking paranoid. Angry."
Then some other words and now I'm hurtling down 280 in Jess's Audi, psychic with anger. I'll end up in the Broken Antler trailer park, Kill Tony or be Killed by him. Jess will hate me forever either way. She'll find a third party to get her dick from, lie to him about love. Then probably several more parties, she's obviously a whore. And I lost her heart a long time ago. My own heart, I'm losing my own heart now. The sun won't rise on me again, until I'm on the other side of Hell or Folsom Prison.
----
The first chapter's new, the second chapter is a total rewrite of an old piece.
do Tony and Johnny sound too much alike?
One more chapter or three?
listen to this:
http://www.ninagordon.com/audio/straightouttacompton.mp3
Chapter 1:
Post Orgasm Blues
When I woke up she was gone. She had been my angel in beige, pink and blonde, providing me with half a reason to live through the night. And then, just like Sin City, She didn't. And the worst part? I fucking hate stories that start like that, and now I had to start one like that.
I'm different than Marv. I don't fall in love. Don't get me wrong, I'm capable of committing myself for the rest of my life, if I ever meet a girl worth doing that with (She wasn't). I just couldn't picture going to those lengths for revenge. So I guess I'm capable of falling in love, I'm just not very romantic.
I could really use something to help me think.
That's how we got into this mess, thinking. Now I'm dead and She (I'm still too bummed to use Her name) - I really need help thinking, if I can't keep straight who's alive and dead. We'd been going for almost three days, third time this month, and brains aren't famous for taking that kind of treatment. Assaulted, from without and within. Of course, we ran out, fucked, and crashed on the pullout in the den of a trailer somewhere in, probably, Phenix City.
Why didn't we go to sleep in the bedroom? There's only four rooms here, one of them must be a bedroom. Does somebody actually live here? Other than me and Her? Well, me. I'm not sure.
Here's the dilemma. I could try and cook up some thinking ability, if the ingredients are around anywhere, but I'll probably blow my damn face off, on account of not thinking straight until I get some thinkpowder up my nose. Not that it actually helps me think anymore, and there's nothing useful for making it anyway.
Quick search of the apartment.
- Two dead bodies, one my (ex)girlfriend, the other in the bedroom. Aneurism for the first, gunshot for the second.
- Old jar of mayonnaise. That's always useful.
- Car keys.
- Fifty Thousand, all from the Atlanta Mint, sequential numbers. (That's how I know it's fifty - subtraction).
- Some other shit, who cares. I grab the money, the car keys, and the mayonaise, and head outside.
A fucking Audi. I'd forgotten that She was rich. The trunk is stuck, or I'm just a little shaky, anyway, it doesn't open and the money goes into the backseat. Oh yeah, the money is in a laundry bag. The mayonnaise, myself and the car keys go into the front. I start the car, go back in, get a drink of water, and flee this nasty, nasty scene.
It takes me an hour and a half to find a concrete road, and then another thirty to get onto a road with numbers. From there it's almost 3 hours to Atlanta, because I keep making wrong turns. Somewhere near I-85 and 280 I realize that I am romantic enough to get revenge for Her death. It's just that that would involve killing me, and I can't quite bring myself to do that.
I wander around Little 5 Points until I find someone who looks enough like me. Sounding like a pedophile. "Pssst. Hey. I'll give you $500 for your driver's license." Get a hotel room, take a shower, call one of the people I know. "You know anyone with ATM's? I Got more than I can handle." Trade for a stack of prepaid AMEX cards. Use one, throw it away after 3 goes.
This gets me some nice clothes, nice enough to go find a new way of scoring. I run by Kinko's and print up a fake Georgia Tag Applied For thing. The Audi I take back to Little 5, parked behind Fellini's. I take off the plate, put the paper in the window. I catch a taxi up to Buckhead, and I disappear well enough for a while. Oh, my name changed. My favorite thing about buying that DL. I used to be Tony, but now I'm Tony. Crazy how that works. Different last names though.
Chapter 2:
Going Where There's No Depression
"So kiss me quick, before it gets dark and too scary to drive."
"Why are we trading cars again?"
"Because Tony is a paranoid crystal meth addict who thinks my car has started to draw attention. Now kiss me and give me your damn keys."
"I'm just not comfortable with this. The Jeep's a piece of shit and it just worries me. You're going to be in a trailer with a paranoid meth addict. Shouldn't you have a car fast enough to get away in?"
"It'll be fine. Now I'm leaving. You don't even get a kiss, just for being such an asshole."
"Look, " And she turned back, and her eyes turned big and green, like she cared what I was going to say more than she cared about anything, "I just worry cuz I love you."
"I love you too Johnny."
How fucking stupid is that? "Oh Jess, I love you." "Oh I love you too Johnny." If she loved me, why is she fucking Tony?
I figured this out because she left condoms that aren't our kind. OUR KIND OF CONDOMS. We went to the store and tried different brands, different goddamn "It'll be something we can tell our kids, hee hee" until we found the perfect fit, and then she has a box of some other kind in her glovebox. With one used. Like they might as well not use the rest. My dick's already rotting off, must be, I just haven't seen the speckles yet.
Call up Ed. "Hey Ed, look out for me. I'm headed out of town for a few."
"Look out for you?"
"Yeah, pick up any slack."
"What slack? You're not making sense."
"Look, I just need to step out for a couple of days. Watch my back."
"That powder's got you paranoid."
"I never touch it. Jess cheating on me has me fucking paranoid. Angry."
Then some other words and now I'm hurtling down 280 in Jess's Audi, psychic with anger. I'll end up in the Broken Antler trailer park, Kill Tony or be Killed by him. Jess will hate me forever either way. She'll find a third party to get her dick from, lie to him about love. Then probably several more parties, she's obviously a whore. And I lost her heart a long time ago. My own heart, I'm losing my own heart now. The sun won't rise on me again, until I'm on the other side of Hell or Folsom Prison.
----
The first chapter's new, the second chapter is a total rewrite of an old piece.
do Tony and Johnny sound too much alike?
One more chapter or three?
listen to this:
http://www.ninagordon.com/audio/straightouttacompton.mp3