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TylerDurden

The Beginning... (pt 1)

Once upon a time there were two guys. these guys were ALL KINDS of intoxicated, hangin around in front of a coin-operated laundromat.

The first guy we'll call Mark.
even at a glance he appeared to be in charge- just appeared a little more at ease with his surroundings- didnt fidget, didnt pace around, just leaned against the glass window and smoked his cigarettes.
he was wearing a Hanes A-shirt that called attention to the overdeveloped and tanned muscles of his upper body, as well as a few strategically placed tattoos.
every once in awhile he would adjust his wraparound-style dark sunglasses, which he wore so passers-by couldnt see his eyes.
indeed he appeared to be looking straight ahead or at the ground, but behind his glasses his eyes were alert, and briefly followed people who approached, seeking out anyone familiar- anyone who owed him money, anyone who he himself owed, anyone who he might have a problem with - or vice versa...anyone who might be drawn into conversation to help liven up this boring afternoon...
Anything.

also, his companion, who we'll call Don, was bugging the crap out of him- the guy just couldnt seem to sit still and maintain.
in fact, were there ANYTHING else to do, he would have ditched the twerp he was with in a second, even though the guy was a longtime acquaintance of his.

and that brings us to the second guy in front of the laundromat. Don was, to those who knew him (and passing strangers alike), a shady character.
he just LOOKED like the stereotypical criminal, went out of his way to look that way- shifty eyes, disheveled clothing, furtive movements, smoking a cigarette,hadn't shaved in a week, openly littering...like he needed attention or something..
he looked like someone who may be merely unpleasant to share a sidewalk with during the day, but who could be downright unsettling to some if encountered at night..
in fact, it seemed to Mark that Don was everything he wasn't- and this fact made him all the more anxious to be rid of him.
Don seemed to be doing everything possible to call attention to their presence, and that fact was beginning to wear on Mark's patience.
Don had even gone so far as to spit at a cop car when one had passed a few minutes earlier- and the officer had been looking directly at them at the time.
the cop (having nothing else to do in this small town) pulled slowly past, and circled the parking lot.
the lawman made it back a minute or so later, and pulled up right in front of them.
he rolled down his window and poked his head out toward them, commenting on the unseasonable heat of the day, in feigned good humor.
Mark grunted something in the affirmative, and gave a slight nod, tensing imperceptibly, preparing to run.
the lawman gave him a quick once-over visually, taking note of his physical condition and tattoos, and then looked to the second kid.
as he looked Don over, he wrinkled his upper lip slightly, and started to smirk.
Don gave a sigh, realizing that the officer had recognized him..
the officer asked Don if he remembered him, citing an incident a few weeks prior when the two of them had met under slightly more unfortunate circumstances.
Don had gotten drunk at the local billiard hall one night and had gotten angry at a coin-operated pool table that had malfunctioned.
he had become belligerant and was asked to leave the pool hall, but he refused, and to make a long story short - he made a scene and ended up being provided with an all-expense-paid trip to the local hoosegow for the evening.
the officer made small talk for a few more moments, and then pulled away with a lingering look of slight, passing suspicion.
both Mark and Don stopped holding their breath, and relaxed, both taking drags of their cigs nearly in unison.

they went back to being bored, and waiting for something to happen.
a little while later, a mid-size sedan pulled up, and stopped in front of them.
a middle-aged oriental man poked his head out the window, and greeted Don by name.
Mark looked at Don, nudged him and raised an eyebrow, a silent communication of "you know this dude?"
Don gave a slight nod, indicating that he had it under control, and jogged over to the guy's car.
the distance was too great to make out individual words, but Mark could hear the sound of their conversation.
a few moments later, the car pulled away, and Don walked back toward the laundromat.
"What the fuc* was THAT all about?", Mark asked.
Don proceeded to recount in detail an incident Mark had heard about third- or fourthhand, in which a kid several years younger than them was fondled - against his will - by that particular oriental man a few days prior.
Don told Mark that he had been introduced to this older guy by some local kid who had been approached, and been given alcohol by this man, and he had also told Mark that he (Don) had been propositioned by this guy as well.
the kid that had brought the man to Don's attention knew that Don often associated with Mark, and EVERYONE in town knew who Mark was.
Mark had a reputation as someone not to be trifled with, and the kid knew that sooner or later word of the incident would reach Mark, (who also had a reputation for looking out for the younger crowd, keeping them in line).
"so HE was the one who had been accosted", Mark thought to himself.
(the kid was a younger brother of one of Mark's wussier friends)
Mark had at first discounted the story as an exaggeration, but now that he was learning the details, as well as the identity of the victim, he was beginning to get angry.

Turns out that a minute ago Don had told the guy that he and Mark needed a ride, and the man had offered to return shortly- he had a few minor errands to run, and had volunteered to give them a ride when he was finished.
Mark snickered, disgusted at this last remark, and made a snide comment about the phrasing of the man's words.
a "ride", indeed.
sick bastard.
The two of them quickly devised a plan to exact some much-needed revenge for the act that the man had perpetrated, and when they were finished, each had a nasty grin on his face.
Mark felt for the reassuring weight of his blades- he usually kept several of various sizes and functions on him at all times- (utility, defense, throwing) - and he was proud of his skill with each.
although probably unneccesary, it was always reassuring to know to know you were better than the average person at self defense.
Don saw Mark checking, and checked for his own.
Don, unlike Mark, was unskilled, and did not appreciate quality in a blade - he had a cheaply made, die-cast butterfly knife of unknown manufacture, and doubtful quality.
shortly thereafter, the man came back, and the two of them got into his car.
they had earlier agreed to provide the man with directions to "Don's house", which would actually be directions to a remote wooded area, where there were abandoned cabins.

THE PLAN was to force the man to strip, stealing his car and taking his clothes, leaving him to walk naked and barefoot back to civilization.

Don sat up front, while Mark opted to take up a position in the back seat, locating himself directly behind the driver.
they drove for a time, Don making mindless small talk, the man dropping endless innuendo, until they arrived at the location they had described to the man.
Don told the man that he had in fact only given him directions to the general area, and that he (Don)'s house was actually further back into the woods, off the paved road.
Don had blown it with that last sentence, faltered a bit.
at that point the man realized he had been had and his eyes grew wide with fear.
instantly he had his back to the car door to get both of them into his field of vision, and he tensed his whole body, preparing for action.
Mark was in a defensive posture, because things hadn't gone according to plan, and he really wasn't sure what was going to happen next.
the man got a glimpse of Mark's purpose-built blade, and within the blink of an eye, he had gotten one hand on his door handle, and one hand on the car keys - which were still in the ignition.
thinking fast, Don reared up and kicked the man's hand (which was on the keys) twice with his left foot, bracing himself against the passenger door and putting his full weight into it.

with the first impact, the mans fingers (and probably a few bones in his hand as well) were broken.
the oriental molester screamed like a woman.
by that time, he had gotten his door open.
Don's second kick further damaged the man's hand, and broke part of the key off inside the ignition.
once the key was broken, in the amount of time that it takes a hummingbird to beat it's wings once, the man flew out the door and ran like a track star back down the road in the direction they had come from.

__________________
I recently quit smoking cigarettes...

you know why?

The thought of someone else raising my son, some other man being his role model, that REALLY rubs me the wrong way.

and THAT, friends and neighbors, THAT is my anti-cigarette.

 

Devio

tight story so far.

TylerDurden

hey people, just wanted to apologize for laggin so long on this story, but i havent been in the mood lately to really get into the right frame of mind...

ill continue it as soon as it feels right.

oh yeah, and i apologize if ive kept anyone waiting...(yeah right...wishful thinkin on my part )

cheers.