May 29, 2011

That One Night [1]

[...Posted by Ted H]

Work has quite literally been kicking my ass, and if Im not working Im either sleeping, studying or dying so Ive got nothing 100% ready. So instead of posting another incomplete story, my loss shall become your gain since Im gonna post the intro to T1N. Lucky, lucky you.

As for that new author I keep bringing up-theyre all ready to rock, except they are also empty handed with anything 100% ready. Author #6 is comming, make no for authors 2-5......uh...

And yeah, this fucker is pretty long, so just the intro for you...

[That One Night]

It never rains on the shitty days. Never. Perhaps its because God likes the irony, or maybe he likes to withhold the irony. Or, whatever. Not that I claim to know how the fucker works…or claim to know the fucker at all. For all I know, his “mysterious ways” could include just rolling the dice…assuming he even exists. To think that after all that’s happened, I would be able to answer such a simple question of whether God exists or not. Hell, the greatest story ever told could turn out to be the greatest lie ever told…and I’m pretty sure that phrase has been used before.

-…The fuck am I thinking of again?

Imaginary deities aside, all I know is that it never rains when I have a shitty day. The day my dog died, it was partly cloudy out. It was beautiful out when I was suspended from high school for a fight (that I lost). On prom night, while my date was in back fucking some other guy, I remember noticing that it was such a pretty night, as if it were consolation that I spent a fortune to get where I was now only to have my date give it up to seemingly anyone who met the criteria of: not being me. See? No rain for my shitty days. Take tonight for instance; crystal clear and beautiful with a slight breeze. The kind of setting that makes romantic novels all the more sappy, where two lovers release their cares into that slight breeze and start fucking. Because it isn’t love unless they’re willing to bump uglies with you.

-I’m digressing, aren’t I?

My name is Steve. You don’t need to know my last name. Its long, confusing and you’ll never be able to pronounce it anyway. I’m not exactly what you would call a normal person. I wasn’t before that one night and I defiantly wasn’t after either. I say “fuck” a lot and I have no respect for anyone. No one ever made an effort for me so I don’t see why I should ever make an effort for others. I’m not a bad person though, I’m just an asshole. People like me are surprisingly common in today’s society, so don’t think that my cheery outlook on life would hinder me at all.

Tonight my cheery, jaded ass was standing in a park in the middle of a small bridge, overlooking a lake. Since arriving, I’ve been changing my mind about this every five seconds. I spent the better part of an hour making sure to find a nice spot to stand and meet Teto while I still had daylight. Now the sun was gone and I could barely see my hand clearly. The only light being offered would be from the street lights at the other end of the park. I couldn’t do this in a well lit area. No, I just had to go for the spooky bad ass effect on the bridge overlooking a lake in the middle of a park after hours. Its all about the details, and it wouldn’t hurt if it were raining.

When you think of it, setting is important. You can’t tell anyone anything unless its in the right location. Some people are stupid that way. Ghost stories are useless when told in broad daylight with people all around. People aren’t nearly as gullible for ghosts during the day than they are in the middle of the night while camping. Likewise, telling my story would lose all intended effect if I told it to someone while riding that teacup ride in Disney World.

-Or was it Disney Land? I suppose one of the voices in my head could clarify th- FOCUS!

Headlights pulling into the parking lot right before turning off, Teto’s here. Part of me was surprised to see him actually come. Then again, nothing really surprised me anymore. I saw him exit the car and quizzically peer around the park. I suppose it was hard to find me in the middle of a dark park since I was wearing a black trench coat like some kind of creeper, but God dammit if I didn‘t look so awesome with it on.

-All about the details

I started pacing on the bridge hoping Teto would see me, but in large part because I was too lazy to walk over to him then walk all the way back to the bridge. “Hey jackass!” I finally yelled out, which caught his attention. Teto eventually saw me and walked cautiously over onto the bridge. He peered at me still as if I didn’t look familiar. I guess he didn’t recognize me. “It’s me,” I said as he approached. I wondered how many other people he expected there to be at a park this late.

“You’re late,” I said though I doubt he heard me. When he finally reached me, Teto seemed surprised. “You’re wondering why I called you,” I said, not having to look at him to see that shock on his face that I beat him to his own question. “Yeah,” he finally said after a pause.

He had reason to feel weird. We haven’t talked in over three years and now out of the blue I called him and told him to come down to have an important chat. I guess I didn’t question the motive, seeing how it had been over 12 years since I talked to Marshall when he had called me. What was three years by comparison? Though it wasn’t exactly around the block for him to meet me either. He did look much different though.

First of all, Teto does not look anything like a “Teto.” He’s as white as a Caucasian can get, due in much to his brief Goth phase he took to in high school in order to bed a girl who wasn’t exactly at the age of consent (it’s a bit late, but I might as well point out that I don’t really associate with a lot of moral or decent people). Teto’s shaggy brown hair he usually wore was gone, given way for a crew cut for the more business friendly look. The five o’clock shadow he always seemed to have was shaved clean off. It was as if it really wasn’t Teto, but I knew better. He still wore his usual clueless gaze on his face and he still had those glasses he didn’t need in order to pull off the intellectual look. I’m also 98% sure he was first in line to fuck my prom date back then, though I’m not one to hold grudges like that.

We stood in silence for a few moments like retards. It wasn’t getting any warmer tonight and it wouldn’t be long before a cop would ride through and probably kick us out. The park was closed, you know. Normal people wouldn’t be doing what we’re doing. Normal people would meet up at a diner, or at the very least in a bar. I’m sure Teto would be a better listener if he were drunk but God dammit, this requires solitude. Teto was just standing there, waiting for me to say something, as if I was gonna magically reveal something to him. The problem was, I still wasn’t sure what exactly I needed him for. I felt that I would know at this point, which I didn’t. Maybe when I’m finished with the story…

“I guess I just want to tell this story at least once to another person, and I’m a bit low on friends right now.” Teto shot me a sideways glance, this time I bothered to look at him so I wouldn’t come off as arrogant or something. “Sounds like something you’d say on your deathbed,” he said as I felt him think that I may have cancer. I wish.

Cancer, a silly little disease. What I would give to trade what I deal with now in exchange. At least with cancer people can understand that what you have is a disease. What I have now, people would be more inclined to think I’m a retarded little boy who needs to get back on his meds, or at least ask me my straitjacket size (in which case, make my size a XXL. I happen to know they make those jackets a little tight, so I could use a little extra room for mine).

-For the love of Christ, would you focus!?

“Are you dying?” Teto finally asked. I chuckled. I didn’t mean to, but it slipped. Probably offended Teto too, but I couldn’t help it. No more death for me, please. Twice was enough but I knew I’d have at least one more in my future, or at least I hope it‘s only one more. I’m assuming I’m even allowed to ever die. And even if I am, I highly doubt my problems would end there.

I knew Teto felt uncomfortable. A call out of the blue then having to meet me in the middle of the night in the middle of a park in the middle of nowhere. I looked at him, trying to study him, trying to figure out what compelled him to actually humor me and meet me here. Was it his home life? Did I provide him a reason to exit his world and leave behind his troubles momentarily? Shit, what the hell was I doing here?

“What’s wrong with you?” he finally said after figuring I ignored his last question. He also thought I was on drugs, which I took offense to. If I were on drugs, I’d have a much sunnier disposition…and we’d be having this meeting at a place with snacks. “You’ll know soon enough,” I said, “I’ve seen a lot of things. And as a result, I can see a lot of things. I know a lot of things I shouldn’t know too.” I could sense Teto’s bewilderment even before it appeared on his face. “Confused?” I asked with a smile. “…The fuck are you talking about?” he asked.

-Oooooo! A chance to show off!

I stared at Teto and concentrated. Eventually the numbers appeared to me. “You will die in exactly 6 years, 2 months, 8 days, 5 hours, 13 minutes and 43 seconds. The last thought that will cross your mind will be “That was an odd thing to say…” and you’ll be wearing a purple hat with a feather in it.” Teto cocked an eyebrow.

“When is the last time you can truly say you were alone?” I asked, “The truth is, you’ve never been alone. Nobody has. They watch you. Invisible to us because we can’t see their world, the world within our world, the realm for shadows, the realm of the dead. Marshall and I have seen these shadows. Seen what they can do to our world if you give them a chance. And let me tell you, they‘re a bunch of angry, destructive assholes if nothing else. All they want to do is fuck shit up and believe me, they do it like it‘s their job, and they make employee of the month every time.”

Teto continued to just stare at me. At least now he was quiet and will pay attention.

* * * * * * *

In case your interested, no, my family does not have a history of mental illness and I don’t do drugs or drink in excess…well, most of the time I don’t. And by the way, I don’t have some sort of weird genetic defect that gives men periods. So now that we’ve taken any psychological shit like that off the table, keep an open mind at what I’m about to tell you.

My parents raised me Catholic and my entire academic career prior to college was spend in private Catholic schools. From pre-K to senior year, they hammered in me all this malarkey about Jesus and God and all this impossible shit that only served to make me think more that there is no higher power rather than reaffirm this “faith” I was suppose to have. So right off the bat I’m not some religious nut who believes in divine intervention or that kind of thing.

There’s no such thing as “normal” so I wont bother bull shitting you about how I was a seemingly normal person before all of this happened. What I was was your typical underachieving college student, although at the time I was seriously considering changing the “student” to “dropout” and dropping the “underachieving” all together since it wouldn’t make any sense. I had actually skipped all my classes that day to ponder whether or not to quit school. I stayed in my room to make that decision with the help of a couple six packs of some cheap, foul tasting beer, a bottle of Jager, some reruns of the Simpsons and a hard drive full of porn. It was probably the best 12 hours of my life. And it was effective, because I arrived at a decision.

By the end of that fateful day, my mind was made up. I was dropping out. College had nothing left for me and I was sick of all the people in it, and they were long since sick of me. I had packed a duffle bag of only the important things I wanted to take with me: my remaining Jager, a toothbrush (I had no toothpaste), my gameboy advanced (even though I hated it), random clothing I could find, a bottle of fabreeze (in the place of laundry), and a few thousand dollars. I wasn’t going home since my parents would probably murder me.

I didn’t know where I was going next. The whole decision to drop out was still kind of fresh and I didn’t place much thought in where I would wander to next. This wasn’t something that could wait, either. I had been hitting up a bunch of people for cash under the guise that I would pay them back real quick, as opposed to leaving forever. If anyone, I figured my old friend, Mel would be willing to give me a place to crash. I just had to, you know, find a way to cover the hundreds of miles between me and the fuckers house.

Here at this fine institute of higher learning, I had lived alone in a double room, The roommate I had at the beginning of the year had decided long before me that college was a waste of time and left. The school never got around to replacing him and as a result, my social life died like a fish out of water. Either way, I was pretty sure no one would miss me, so I didn’t waste time on any sappy, heartfelt goodbyes. I did attempt some last minute tries at one-night stands, all of which failed spectacularly.

I didn’t have much patience for friends or other people in case you haven‘t noticed. It didn’t matter to me now since trying to better my personality here would be useless since I was always wrestling with the idea of leaving. Now I was about to leave for what I thought would be a life of uncertainty and indecision; just like a good ol’ fashion average American. Ironically, the last thing I remember before my world turned to shit was standing in the doorway, about to leave and wondering what the world held for me next.

Then my phone rang.

I checked the display, which told me the number was restricted. I briefly wondered why I insisted to my mother to get a caller ID function for my phone that clearly didn’t work. I didn’t call many people anyway and nobody ever called me, save for my mother every once in a while to wonder why I never call her, before we would proceed to have the same bland conversation anyway.

So I’m staring at my phone now, ringing away, wondering if it’s a sign that I shouldn’t drop out. Perhaps God himself was on the other line, ready to convince me that not only is he as real as I am, but also to stay in school. I mean, c’mon, if God calls you up and says to stay in school, then you stay in school, period. Either that or you cut down on the ecstasy.

Then I did something that’s very out of character-I answered the phone anyway. I never answer a call from a stranger, I don’t know why I decided to start there. Hell, I don’t answer most calls from people I know. Maybe it was because I was momentarily caught up in the humor that God was calling. Perhaps if I ignored the call, this whole mess could’ve been avoided. I could’ve been just another no name faceless college drop out living on a street corner begging for change or working at McDonalds or something. Or maybe I could’ve been living off welfare with a plasma screen TV and a kick ass collection of alcohol in some random apartment, leeching off the economy. That would’ve been nice. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly blend in with that crowd, but I could always give Hip-hop a try…

Doesn’t matter anyway, seeing how I answered the phone like an idiot.


“Steve? Steve!” The person on the other end said, apparently he was
running. “Holy shit, dude, I’m glad you answered. Its me!“

“Who’s “me?”” I asked.


“Sorry, bud. Don’t know ya.”

I didn’t know any Marshall, except one from grammar school. Neither of us were very popular and we stuck together out of necessity. An actual friendship grew out of that but it wasn’t longed for this world. I came from my crazy, religious family and Marshall came from a family of criminals and losers, living from paycheck to paycheck to support the family of 4 boys, since someone forgot to sew the mother‘s vagina shut. The number of children in that family fluctuated frequently since police were always coming over to take one of them to juvenile hall, and eventually the older brothers started knocking women up, so there are anywhere between 6 and 10 children in that house right now.

Anyway, Marshall eventually dropped out of school and started a life down the drain: drugs and such, bunking with his brothers in jail, and eventually he dropped off the map entirely. For all I knew he was dead right now. I highly doubt this was the same Marshall though, seeing how I didn‘t recall giving him a number to a phone I didn‘t even have 12 years ago.

“We were friends 12 years ago. Remember me?”

-There is just no way he’s the same Marshall

The skeptic in me was making a strong argument out of no proof. It was way too unlikely that this Marshall was the Marshall I knew from way back. This had to be some imposter just dropping his name to get my attention. He wasn’t doing a very good job anyway. If he wanted to fool me, he’d drop some tidbit of information that only Marshall might know or something.

“I still remember you had a crush on Alyssa.”

-No one fucking knew that except-

“And now you’re thinking no one fucking knew that except Marshall! Well guess what, numb-nuts? Am I through convincing you its me, cuz this shit can’t wait any longer!”

I damn near almost dropped the phone. Instead I let my arm drop slightly, the phone now cradled near my chin as opposed to my ear. Was this really Marshall? How did he get this number? What shit was he talking about? All these questions ran through my brain while I half listened to the phone. “Listen!” Marshall continued “I can explain all this shit but we need to talk in person. I know which dorm you’re in so just let me in when I get there. I’ll be there in less than five minutes. Don‘t leave me waiting. For the love of Christ, don’t leave me waiting.” Then he hung up, and I stood in silence.

I told no one about Alyssa except for Marshall, and even then, only in passing. And the last time I saw Alyssa, she was six feet under and I was talking to a tombstone. I doubt I made any last minute confessions to her that anyone would overhear, either. So either this was Marshall or some random fucker took a one in a million guess and lucked out. Since he knew that, I didn’t even try to think anymore over how he got my number, or how he knew where I was. Hell, I didn’t even think, I just stood there with a bad feeling in my gut, which oddly reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since about six this afternoon.

After another moment I realized I was still standing in my doorway, duffle bag strapped over my arm and my cell phone in my hand. Most people who lived in my hallway were either out partying or asleep right now, so no one would notice my dumb ass just standing around. Before I could do anything though, my phone started ringing again. The number was also restricted, and yet again I did the unprecedented and answered it, thinking it was Marshall. In retrospect, this was a night where I made a lot of stupid, unprecedented decisions.


“Steve! Steeeeeeve! Help me!” A young woman screamed.

“Um…who are you?” I said, caught off guard that yet another unknown person
knew my name.

“No I’m not!”


“I’m cold and alone! Help me!”


“They dragged me away…They’re gonna come back for me…”

“Listen lady, I don’t know what the fuck you‘re-”

“Steve? Are you alright?”

“I‘m hanging up now.”

“Steve? I can’t hear you! Steve, what was that?”

“I said I’m hanging up now!”

“Steve? Steve? Steve!!!”

I was going to say something else, perhaps a witty way to tell this woman to fuck off, but I couldn’t. I found that I couldn’t even breathe. Then the real pain hit me. I doubled over in agony onto my knees as my chest seemed to freeze on the spot. I tried to scream but no sound came out. My windpipe had sealed itself shut as my body cramped up and my head dropped strait onto the ground. The pain was excruciating as I felt my head trying to implode, then explode, then implode again.

I couldn’t see or breath anymore. Well…I couldn’t see because I was pressing my face into the ground as I struggled, but I still had no explanation for the not breathing part. Last time I checked, cell phone usage wasn’t linked to sudden choking…yet. I then felt as if my organs were being ripped out all at once. My arms instinctively grabbed at my midsection for my organs in case they actually were coming out. I then felt everything go cold and vision began fading to white, but the pain only intensified.

Two things went through my head before everything finally did go white and end:
1-Death by a fucking cell phone?
2-I thought everything was suppose to go black?

So yeah…I just died.

May 19, 2011


[...Posted by Ted H]

For the uninitiated, I ran previous blogs in the past, nothing like this one though. Usually I would try random things with writing or post shameless advertising/DVD reviews (woo! Free stuff!) but the majority of those posts centered not around creative writing, but some good old fashioned ranting.

Theyre crude, rough, and always done in 1 draft, unedited. Swearing is usually encouraged because it makes it feel more like a rant as opposed to a soap box lecture. Soap box lectures are boring and preachy...rants are fun. I'm not trying to do anything special here, just throw some thoughts off my mind for the sheer benefit of amusing myself and hopefully others. I had some gems in the past I wish I held onto.

The need to rant is trivial nowadays, and theyre not nearly as entertaining to do now as they were back in the day, but whatever. I figured what with everyone in the world having this sudden and perverse obsession with the upcomming "rapture" I should at least throw this rant out there...

Rants will be few and far between, but this one has a purpose.


Where the fuck was I when we all decided the rapture was back on? Seriously? I thought we all agreed that 2012 was the be all end all of life on earth? Who the fuck came up with May 21, 2011 anyway? Harold Camping? The same guy who said 1994 was suppose to be the rapture? How’d that work out for ya boy? Yeah, between you and the Mayans, Im pretty sure this whole end of days things is concrete.

But then again, who the fuck cares. Lets say for arguments sake, that the rapture does indeed happen on May 21. Ya know what happens? “True believers” or whatever will be “called” to heaven. Its estimated that about 200 million people will be raptured…for those who failed their math courses, that’s a whopping 2-3% of the entire population of earth. Ya know, Im pretty sure Ill be going to work on Monday with those numbers.

Give me a reason to get excited over all this because Im pretty damn sure I don’t quite qualify for the top 2% of humanity. And if I somehow did, that’d be saying something about the state of society. Even if I did, Id demand to go back to earth. Why? Cuz I wanna see how it all will go down. Its freaking Armageddon ova here! Why wouldn’t I want a front row seat?

Maybe this will be the beginning of a zombie thing or something! Maybe all those chosen 2% will be raptured spiritually, but their bodies remain and get reanimated as the living dead. 200 million aint that many people, but that’s a fuck load of zombies. 200 million zombies. God damn that’s bad.

Imagine. BOOM-rapture! You’re in the grocery store and some old woman falls over. Everyone thinks she’s dead. Theres confusion because a few other people in the store mysteriously died all of a sudden as well. Then they all stir, and each bite whoever was trying to help them. You quickly realize that it’s a zombie and grab a blunt object and bash the old woman’s head in.

Good job. Zombie dead. But wait, the man she bit before is turning, as is all the other bitten people. What was 4 zombies is now 7! You quickly kill the new zombie before he could infect others, but the other 6 zombies have now killed. Now there are 12 zombies. You fight your way out and kill a few, but 20 zombies still remain. There were 4 at first, now there’s 24. And that’s only in the store you just left.

200 million zombies could very well become 400 million before you even get home. Do you know what this means? Las Vegas is the only safe place to be on Saturday! That and…wait. What was I talking about? Ah yes, the rapture.

Fuck the rapture. On May 22, That Camping dude will be offering an explanation as to why the reckoning hasn’t come yet and we’ll all get a good chuckle over it. Then he’ll pull another arbitrary date out of his bible and the cycle will begin anew.

1843? Nope
1844? Nope
1914? Nope
1918? Nope
1925? Nope
1942? Nope
1981? Nope
1988? Nope
1989? Nope
1992? Nope
1993? Nope
1994? Nope
2000? Nope
2011? Nope

Whos next? Newton? Really? Isaac Newton offered his 2 cents on a rapture date? Well, see you all in 2060 then...

May 13, 2011

Safe Haven - Slain and Double-D

[...Posted by Ted H]

Holy hell, when was the last time I updated this storyline? March? Fucking March? Seriously? I wouldnt complain too much though, seeing as Ive posted some pretty sweet shit in the several weeks between SH updates.
...and yes, astute readers should see the cannon fodder character from a mile away, but sometimes it's just as fun to build up a horrible, pointless death than it is to just spring it out of nowhere.
.......and FYI, the unnammed girl in here is in fact "Cayra" Its been about a dozen weeks since she was mentioned...

Ive also cant help but want to hit the gas on this plot and move along, since this zombie apocalypse era storyline has in fact included zero actual zombies...I promise you, once we get to that part, Ill fucking bring the zombies with such a fury, youll yern for these days of no zombies...


[Safe Haven - Slain and Double-D]

“What are we gonna do with her?” Will asked for the umpteenth time. Kendall tried to ignore him as he continued to push the barrel of his rifle into the girls back and made her march. “Keep those hands on your head,” he ordered the girl. The girl hadn’t said a peep since they found her. She seemed harmless enough and after a couple more smacks to the back of the head she would immediately follow instruction without having to repeat yourself. Still though, the way she had made her way through the city, knowing just where to run with cover and how she was careful to avoid detection, that made Kendall worry. This wasn’t the first time someone like her had been outside after curfew and Kendall wasn’t taking any chances if she was up to something.

There were stories of citizens being intentionally caught after curfew just to lure ResEs into a trap. That’s all Kendall could think about right now. They’d given her two full body searches just to make sure she didn’t have a gun or any other tricks before marching her off. Kendall chose a long, roundabout path back to the Hub just in case the girl had any friends waiting down a dark alley. Will had bitched about taking the long road, but that was solely because he couldn’t wait to rape the girl. Kendall convinced him over the long road because they could march her around as an example. He didn’t tell him the real reason because Will might call him a chicken, then they’d argue, then Kendall would get a headache over the whole thing. Better to just lie.

“She flinched!” Will cried. Kendall didn’t see anything. He wasn’t expecting anything. At this point the girl was too scared to try anything funny, which made him feel better. Either there wasn’t any ambush to worry over, or the long way home worked and the ambush is down a road the three of them aren’t taking.

“She flinched again!” Will said. “You’re full of shit,” Kendall scolded. “You’re just not paying attention,” Will said as he took the girl and marched her himself. Kendall knew what he wanted to do and sure enough he didn’t push his rifle into the girls back, but much lower. “You better like that,” he said with a grin. Kendall wanted to scold Will for that, but he didn’t have the energy. He felt that headache coming on.

“Shit, man! Look at them,” Kendall heard a voice call. Two Hispanics jogged over from another street. Juan and Jezus, better known by their call signs “Bell and Taco.” They’re the ResEs who normally patrol the area. “If I recall correctly, Slain and Double-D aren’t suppose to patrol this area tonight,” Juan said “So you must be lost. Tell you what, I’ll help you guys get where you’re suppose to be. Just turn around and fucking walk. But be sure to leave this pretty little thing behind when you do.”

“Not on your life,” Will said while the two laughed. “Tell you what,” Kendall said “You really wanna ruin someones night? Go find Mean and RC. We picked the girl up maybe a block away from them. They had to have walked right passed her though.” Juan started laughing. “Are you serious?” Jezus asked “Were they too busy making out or something?” Kendall shrugged. “Dun no, I just want to get this here back to the Hub.”

“I hear that,” Juan said as he slapped Will on the back and started walking away with Jezus. “C’mon, not that much farther,” Will said as he slapped the girl on the ass and marched her forward. “By the way,” Will said “I got dibs on her first.” Kendall wasn’t gonna let that slide. Will has a habit of killing girls so he can get off, meaning he was going second. He was about to tell him as much when a sound caught his ears that made him tense.

Someone had cocked a rifle.

“You hear that?” Will asked as Kendall raised his weapon. Whoever that was, they made sure to cock their gun slow and deliberately as to announce their presence. There was just no way to tell where it had come from except that it was nearby and behind them. Kendall’s first thought was that it was either Jezus or Juan, but both had walked too far away and neither one would be able to keep from laughing if this were a joke. It was just quiet.

Kendall surveyed the area. The only nearby place that provided immediate cover was an alley. It was dark. “Of coarse it’s dark,” Kendall muttered to himself “No one ever hides in a well lit alley.” He checked over his shoulder one more time to see Will had shifted himself behind the girl with an arm around her neck and a pistol to her head. Cowardly, but it seemed smart enough. The last thing they needed was for the girl to try something and distract both of them for even a second to create an opening.

Kendall shouldered his rifle and turned on the light at the end. He positioned himself at the opening of the alley and peered down. Nothing was moving. The alley didn’t extend all that far and it provided virtually no cover for a person to hide. Kendall breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe they both heard wrong and it was just the wind or something. Either way, there was no reason to wait around.

“C’mon,” Kendall said as he turned and began walking back to Will and the girl “Lets just g-” Kendall stopped. “What?” Will asked, as he lowered his gun from the girl’s head. Right behind Will was a man dressed in black, a Rogue, with a pistol in hand pointed at Will’s head. Will was completely oblivious, which was better suited for him since the Rogue wasted no time in pulling the trigger.

May 8, 2011

Twenty Days

[...Posted by Ted H]

Worked dawn2dusk most of the previous week. No time to do any writing related bull....that mean I dont have an update this week? HA!

I have nothing new. Kinda wanted to see how far I could run with that crazy time machine guy, but roof jumping kinda took priority. What now? Now you get something from waaaaaay back. something mad old I wrote back when I was experimenting with different rhyme structure.


Twenty Days

Twenty days till I return
So much time to write
Twenty days to survive
Up till then I fight
Twenty days to prepare
Until I see the light
Twenty days will you appear?
By that time just might
Twenty days I will await
For such a sore fought sight
Twenty days may never come
And stay eternal night.

May 1, 2011

Fuck You, I'm Building A Time Machine

[...Posted by Ted H]

Holy shit! An early update? What did you do to deserve such love!?!?

Im pretty sure that most of my science terminology in this is accurate. Dont quote me though...
And even I have to admit the swearing is a bit over the top...though I like to think that someone that smart and obsessed would be fucking hostile to naysayers.


[Fuck You, I'm Building A Time Machine]

Time traveling, mother fucker. It’s possible. Don’t believe me? Well fuck you, too. Scientists today are pussies. They spend too much time ruining everything for everyone. Lightsabers wouldn’t make practical weapons? Dinosaurs had gay ass feathers? Pluto isn’t a planet? What the fuck, man? Hell, we got some scientists who wanna prove we never landed on the moon. Are you fucking serious? We’re at the point where we’re trying to disprove awesome things we’ve already proved? Fuck you!

Anyway, back to time travel. It’s as real as my penis is big, and that prick’s huge. But I can already hear you detesters bitching. Professor Killjoy is probably saying right now “If time travel is possible, then where are all the time travelers?” Well go fuck yourself, Killjoy. I got three theories for ya that’ll knock your socks off and put you in your place.
They’re idiots and they’re dead.
They’re premature ejaculators and they’re dead.
Time travels oldest rival stopped them.
What? You want me to elaborate? Fine, but only because I got the time.

Theory fucking 1: What’s rule fuck 1 of the earth? Ding! Times up fuck nugget. Rule 1 is that it revolves around the sun. Earth revolves around the sun, Sol’s part of the milky way, milky ways a delicious candy bar and its part of the universe, and the universe revolves around me. Got that. That’s rule 1, but for all intents and purposes, all you need to know is that the earth revolves around the sun.

It takes a year for earth to finish one rotation around the good old sun. 150 million God damn kilometers. That’s a long ass distance and it’s a lot of fucking space the earth can be in at any given moment. Every second the planet is moving, so when you travel through time, there is no guarantee that you’ll even be on the planet anymore. That’s right mother fucker, according to my theory, most would-be time travelers spaced themselves like idiots. Some might have even time traveled themselves into the earths core. I know, right? Fucking idiots.

I can already hear you people bitching “Woah woah woah, back the fuck up! How can I even end up spaced in the first place?” What a stupid question. The time stream isn’t exclusive to earth you dipshit. When you hit the reverse switch and go back in time, you’re not just turning the clock back on the earth, you’re also doing so for the entire fucking galaxy. This ain’t like Superman spinning around just the earth-EVERYTHING goes backwards on you. Same rules apply for going forward. When you finish your little time jump, you might not be in the exact spot on earth you left on, but you sure as shit will be in the exact spot you left on in the universe! Solid ground may or may not apply.

Fortunately, there’s an piss easy solution to that. Calibrate the time machine to take into consideration where the earth is at the time of departure and when the earth was in a convenient position in the past. Unfortunately the future is a bit of a crap shoot what with the earths rotation never being an exact. 24 hours and 365 days per rotations? Yeah, those are just averages, not sexy like whole numbers. It usually takes the earth over an extra quarter of a day to complete a fucking round trip, hence the leap year, but its actually more inaccurate than that. The details are minute but suffice to say, the farther into the future you venture, the bigger risk you’re taking with your ass. Lets not even talk about the variations of rotation angles or the role the moon may play in fucking with us. Eliminate that fucker and all hell could break loose.

But yeah, calibrate. It’s a buzz word, but I doubt you could understand the exact terminology. What it means that no, you don’t get to pick the exact day and time you travel to, but that’s the price you pay for a safe trip. But hey, if you really wanna travel back 6 months in time willy nilly, be my guest, just don’t bitch when you come out the other side and are on the other end of the fucking galaxy. Wait, no, you wont complain. You’ll be fucking DEAD.

Theory fucking 2: So now you have a fully functioning time machine. Good for you. Now what are you going to do? Same thing you’d do with a sports car the first time you’re on the open road: See what this baby is capable of. How far and how fast can you go? Well, I guess speed ain’t no big thing in time travel, but fuck, lets see what happens in 1,000 years. How about 2,000, 3,000, 4? Shit, lets go right into Armageddon!

No ones making a trip to December 21, 2012 just to say hi. And when they get there and realize that the Mayans were full of shit, they’re not just gonna go home, they’re gonna keep going forward until they find some doomsday, because they‘ve got a hard on for destruction and you don’t schedule a trip through time just to leave with blue balls. Hell, I doubt you plan to return from that kind of trip anyway. Shit man, its doomsday, kinda hard to imagine the mortality rate for something like that being anything less than 99.9999999%

But that’s where about half of all successful time travelers are right now, dead in the future because they couldn’t hold their load and just HAD to see how it all ends. Well, lucky them, they were there in person but they didn’t get to write home about it. Hell, in about 900 million years, there wont be anymore oxygen on the planet. I’m betting most time travelers don’t plan on that shit happening. But wait, who would be that dumb? Everyone would be, because that’s what you do, you look to see how it all ends.

Like I said, half of these idiots are in the future where there’s nothing but ruined cities, piles of time machines and a bunch of rotting dumbasses with no oxygen (except the rotting would be no different, cuz ya know, no fucking oxygen!). What about the other half? Eaten by a T-Rex, because lets face it, dinosaurs are fucking awesome, and I’m pretty sure Jurassic Park wasn’t an inaccurate representation of what a T-Rex would do if he bumps into you while you’re taking a shit. There’s a certain point when you go back in time that you decide “Well shit, I just gotta see me some fucking dinosaurs!” and after that, its already over.

Either that, or you’re one of those shits who wants to go back to when life first crawled out of the primordial soup. Good luck with that since there isn’t really an exact date to reference and you’re all but guaranteed to overshoot your target and end up in the real fucking early days when all there was were boiling oceans and fucking lightning. Boiling oceans and lightning. Have fun with that. Don’t believe me? Well how the fuck do YOU make soup?

This problem has yet another piss easy solution, way easier actually. It’s simple, really: keep it in your pants. Trust me, the end of days isn’t survivable, the early days of life isn’t exactly exciting and watching some guy bite it in Jurassic Park is much more entertaining than you yourself getting killed by a dinosaur. Have some fucking practicality for once and maybe we’ll have a time traveler actually survive.

Theory fucking 3: Paradoxes. They are to time travelers what Khan was to Kirk. A bunch of time travelers are not actually time travelers because of this little fucker. Whats so hard to get about paradoxes? Ok then, you fucking slut, here:
-Lets go back and kill Hitler.
-Build a time machine.
-Go back to the 1930s.
-Kill Hitler.
-Hitler is dead, there exists no future reason to build time machine.
-Time machine is never built.
-Hitler isn’t actually dead.
-But now we have a reason to build a time machine.
-Build a time machine.
-Go back to the 1930s.
-Kill Hitler.
-Hitler is dead, there exists no future reason to build time machine.
-Time machine is never built.
-Hitler isn’t actually dead.
-But now we have a reason to build a time machine.
-Build a time machine.
-Go back to the 1930s.
-Kill Hitler.
-Hitler is dead, there exists no future reason to build time machine.
-Time machine is never built.
-Hitler isn’t actually dead.
-But now we have a reason to build a time machine.
-Build a time machine.
-Go back to the 1930s.
-Kill Hitler.
-Hitler is dead, there exists no future reason to build time machine.
-Time machine is never built.
-Hitler isn’t actually dead.
-But now we have a reason to build a time machine.
-Build a time machine.
-Go back to the 1930s.
-Kill Hitler.
-Hitler is dead, there exists no future reason to build time machine.
-Time machine is never built.
-Hitler isn’t actually dead.
-But now we have a reason to build a time machine.
-Build a time machine.
-Go back to the 1930s.
-Kill Hitler.
-Hitler is dead, there exists no future reason to build time machine.
-Time machine is never built.
-Hitler isn’t actually dead.
-But now we have a reason to build a time machine.
-Build a time machine.
-Everything happens again, except that your grandfather gets a brain aneurysm when he’s 20, never meets your grandmother, and thus, you are never born. It’s the universes way of preventing you from fucking everything up, you little shit.

So, Hitler would be dead a million times over by now if it weren’t for continuity. Paradoxes are common from careless time travelers, and tend to reset everything so you don’t go around imploding the universe. Let’s just concentrate the most important one to avoid: paradoxing your time machine out of existence.

See, if you build a time machine to go back in time to prevent something, then you eliminate the reason you built the time machine in the first place. Imagine the equation x + y = z …X is the event in question, Y is you building the time machine, and Z is you using the time machine to prevent the event in question.

So if that’s the case, you just eliminated x, turning it into y = z. Which is like dividing by 0, which OH SHIT! YOU DIVIDED BY ZERO AND CAUSED ANOTHER PARADOX! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!
You gotta stop imploding the universe.

Look, the only way to create a time machine with no strings attached is to make a time machine for the sole purpose of creating a time machine. It’s seriously the most piss easy thing of the piss easy things I’ve mentioned.

Maybe you do it because you’re bored, but boredom is infinite. No matter what you do, you will eventually become bored, so creating a time machine out of boredom is kosher. But the fool proof way of preventing a paradox is to just make the God damn time machine because you want a God damn time machine. Oh sure, maybe you eventually use it to prevent a past event, but then whatever paradox you create wont erase your time machine from history, thus freeing you up to create other paradoxes, you bastard.

Just don’t create the time machine out of some desperate need to prevent a past event because I’ll be seriously pissed off if we need to reset the universe three times in this article.

So, in recap, time travel is totally possible because I said so. And if you don’t believe me than fuck you. I’m gonna build one just to build one, then go back in time and get to this very day where I can break into your cars in the parking lot and steal all your shit while you’re in hear listening to me. How do you like that, bitch? Yeah. Remember that CD in your car you really like? Well its mine now! So is all your fucking change!