Hot Liberty

A short piece of fiction about a possible future war as my entry for Chuck Wendig's Flash Fiction challenge. Enjoy!

It was war.  We were fighting the others. We didn't even know anymore who we were fighting. "Not us" is all we knew. We started calling them "Euraps".  We don't know who started it, it's just something that stuck. Benny64 swears it was from some guy in Unit 6, but TheRealGafton has this idea that it was made up by the higher-ups and "interwoven into our thought-processes to make us more brutal fighters". He was paranoid like that.

We were level 16 Trench Warriors. We fought in the trenches.  We were the only ones who had to wear enviro-suits and actually fight outside, on the ground.  None of the higher-ups ever got to see the ground. They said it was an honor that we got to feel mother America below our feet and fight with our hands instead of behind plastic.  They said our job was important.  We were the only ones who got to see the red sky for real.  We were the only ones who saw the enemy in person.  We were the ones closest to death. 

It was shit.  It was the lowest level.  It was dirty and bloody and demoralizing but if you paid your dues and got to level 20, they upgraded you to a "mechanizer", which means you got to sit back in one of those big machines and take out groups of Euraps with the press of a button. Why couldn't we all start as mechanizers, we would ask. "You can't ALL start out as mechanizers. That's not balanced. That's just the way the system is. You have to pay your dues."  It made sense I guess.

We'd been Trench Warriors for 2 years, we were used to the muck and the blood. We hated it, sure, but we were used to it by now. That was just our life. And we were lucky; we were still alive. That was the important part. Very few Trench Warriors made it to mechanizer because of the death rate. But we were almost there.

We were called into battle early in the morning. We always had to get up early because we had to be ready; we had to be on the front lines. It was me, Benny64, TheRealGafton, DaveIsCats, and Gaylord420.  Gaylord420 was a good soldier.  He was almost level 19, but he wasn't the friendly type. For the battle, it would be us, Unit 43, Unit 20, and Unit 59, and 2 mechanizers. And we'd have a Generalisimo guiding our actions as always.

We got there early, prepped our rifles, said our little prayer, "May we all find our way home...in bed." and Prepared for the worst. DaveisCats was scared out of his mind. "This time is different" He said. He was still pretty new, only level 3.  He hadn't learned the trick to war that me and Benny64 had known: always go in expecting to die.

And then it started and we realized DaveIsCats was right. This was different. The Euraps must have upgraded their training or their weapons. It was brutal.  People on both sides getting slaughtered. The mechanizers did the best they could, but they had to deal with the LaserCunts (We don't know what Euraps called those big laser machines, we just knew the name that everyone called them). It was up to us to hold the line against the invading Euraps. 

I was surprised how many headshots I got. That would really help my score. In the corner of my eye I could see DaveIsCats hiding in a trench, not trying to kill anybody. I didn't care too much.  It's his problem if he doesn't get any kills and can't level up. More kills for us. He'd just have to learn like we all did.

I had just run out of ammo and was busy reloading when a shot grazed my cheek. A Eurap was right there. I didn't have time to reload. I pulled out my knife and threw it straight into his facemask. He fell over in a slump. I remember it was the first time I'd laughed and shouted in months. I'd never got a "direct knife kill". I'd go up a level and get an achievement to boot. I was so happy at my luck, how he'd been only slightly off. I turned to Benny64. And I realized he hadn't been off. He had got a perfect head shot, just not on me.

When the battle cleared, the four of us huddled around Benny64. We were in a predicament. We hadn't yet logged in our kills.  If we took Benny64's kills, he'd be labeled a coward, but we'd all go up to mechanizer.  I've heard of people doing it, and the higher-ups didn't care one way or the other. It's just how the system worked. Gaylord420 had enough kills already; he walked away, not saying a word to us. DaveIsCats wanted to do it of course. He'd seen enough of the trenches. But Benny64 was the closest friend I'd ever had in this stupid war.

TheRealGafton and me agreed. We'd split the kills. We took enough so that we'd go up a level, and gave a few to DaveIsCats. He still had a while to go anyways, and we though he needed to learn.  We gave Benny64 enough that he'd get the "Died with honor" achievement. His family would be happy at least. We put in our kills, and said goodbye to DaveIsCats. Gaylord420 didn't come with us. He wanted more kills. TheRealGafton said maybe he was trying to go for the specialized Trench Warrior. It got more perks and maybe he'd get a nice achievement. 

We got to stay in luxurious new boarding room with two other older mechanizers. Well it was luxurious for us anyways, they were tired of it. Soft beds, new uniforms, more exotic food rations, a com-phone with games and even a common room TV.  I tried figuring out the TV flipping through channels. I couldn't get the wave movements right. The other mechanizers laughed at our naiveté. Had they ever been that young?  I found a page where I could customize my personal mechanizer, my uniform, even my bunkspace.  One of the Mechanizers, SamSamMike, explained it to me.

All the customize mods were bought with points. The way you got points was by rationing your food more. Not eat a meal for a day and you'd get maybe 5 points. For reference, there was a "Hot Liberty" mod, which was a little plastic Statue of Liberty you could place in the cockpit of your mechanizer that if you touched it, her clothes fell off.  It was 50 points.

I stopped for a minute and then me and TheRealGafton burst out laughing. Just uproarious laughter, something we hadn't experienced for years. We didn't know why we were laughing, but looking back, I guess I was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. You had to give up on your needs to get a little bit of something useless you wanted. That's just the way the world works.

I talked with TheRealGafton and SamSamMike about my amazing knife kill, but in the back of my mind, I was trying to figure out which days I could stand not to eat.

Two Tickets to the Gunshow

This is a short bit of fiction for one of Chuck Wendig's Flash Fiction contests. You should go check him out.

My eardrums are blown out in a cacophony of bullets. I'd put in the earplugs Perry handed me earlier if I didn't need to hear where Sammy was. Perry's huddled beside me with his hands over his ears. I hug the steel table and hold my pistol close. Perry keeps telling me "It's a revolver you jackass!" Revolver. Whatever. It sounds like every gun ever made is shooting at us. I wait for the storm of enraged bees to let up a bit so I can pop my head out. It doesn't. I fuckin' hate guns.

"You think you can just waltz in here, waive your badge around, and take ME in?! In a freakin' gun show?! You must be the stupidest fuck on the force!"

Perry tries to glare at me through squinted eyes and muted ears. I think he agrees with the guy. I'm inclined to do the same. Whatever. I just shoot the damn things, it's not like I need to be a connoisseur or nothing.

Bullets fly past my hair making me wish I had a receding hairline. I see holes in the wall the size of golf balls. What the hell are they shooting at us?

"That's a M1919 Browning machine gun! How'd they get a hold of that?!"

Thanks perry. Knew there was a reason I brought you along. Well yeah, he's the gun expert. That IS the whole reason I brought him along. Whatever. I just wish he knew how to shoot.

"Cmon out pigs! I ain't got all day!"

"We just want to know who you sold the gun to, Sammy! the uh-"

"38 Weston special!"

"Yeah that! What he said!"

The cacophony starts up again. I don't think he heard me.

"I ain't tellin' you shit man!"

Ok, so he's just an asshole. Good to know. Jesus, how many gun nut friends does he have out there? I'll tell you one thing, me and Perry are not dying here. This is too ironic a death for either of us.

I fire off a few rounds over their heads, then I throw my coat to the left of me, while I duck out on the right. They go to the bait like a swarm of flies to dung. Before I duck behind a column, I notice how many friends Sammy has. One beefy guy in a wife beater and a ponytail, one with squinty little eyes and big coke bottle glasses in a fishing vest, one in shades and a snakeskin jacket, oh wait and everyone else in the building showing their right to bear arms. Oh and they all have guns. So. Many. Guns. Just making sure they’re not throwing bullets at me.

I clip Mr. snakeskin in the shoulder to get their attention off Perry. Snakeskin drops his whatever millimeter whatever and goes down clutching his arm like the little baby he is. That’s how I’m hoping a lot of ‘em will go down.

“Now why don’t you put your toys down and come answer teacher’s question?”

“You want toys?! I’ll give you toys!”

“No toys is the opposite of what I-“

“That’s an AK-47!”

Before I can thank Perry for that oh so important piece of information, I hear a string of profanities erupt from that AC-40 Gerald’s holding.

“Are we gonna let him impede on our second amendment rights?!”

An uproar of ‘hell no’s from the yokels meets Sammy’s proclamation. And then an uproar of bullets. I look to my right and see some jackass point something long at me. I stub his toe and take it from him. Shotgun? Shotgun. One of Sammy’s bullets rips through the guy’s leg. I fire off a few rounds in Sammy’s direction. No luck.

“That’s a coach gun! You can’t use it at long range!”

What, first they got names and now they got rules? Pretty soon they’ll be wanting the right to vote. I throw the coach gun away and grab something from a nearby table, as a duck underneath. I hold it over my head for a few seconds to get Perry’s attention.

“Will this thing work?”

“That’s an M16 Assault Rifle!”

“Not answering my question!”

“YES! Shoot the thing!”

Me and Perry. We have our good times. I unload a clip in the general direction of the gun club. They scatter like silverfish. Sammy gets scared. I see him run off. I follow with my trusty pistol revolver. And then I feel something rip through my calf as the floor punches me hard. I’m bleeding, a little disoriented. I see squinty eyes walking in my general direction looking a little too happy with what he’s carrying…and what he’s about to do. I split those coke bottles in one shot.

But here’s the problem: That was my last bullet. Damn it. Should have waited till squinty eyes was closer. Sammy strolls up lookin’ like the kid who caught the bullfrog in a jar. I don’t need to know what he’s pointing at me to know what it’ll do to my insides.

“So Sammy, you ready to tell me who you sold that gun too?”

“Oh detective, you’re a funny one! You won’t be so funny when I-“

And then I see the most ridiculous thing of this whole goddamn adventure. Perry runs up with a sword-an honest to God swashbuckler’s sword-and drives it straight through Sammy’s shoulder. Sammy’s cry of pain as he goes down is Beethoven to my ears. Perry’s huffing and puffing from the adrenaline while I try to stand on my last leg.

“Perry, just who in the hell brings a knife to a gunfight?”

a dysfunctional renaissance fair

I actually did this one awhile ago but kept forgetting to upload it.

The iron horses
rusted squeaking and skwaking
let out clanging neighs
as the children tug on their copper ears the king sits on his thrown
sipping on his second 32 oz. cup of mead
as he tries to look down the queens corset for the
37th time?
The queen has since lost count
and lost interest
Her interest is not on the night
tall lanky and awkward
in his glimmering well kept armor
but of the stable boy
the stable man
in his wife beater and low hanging jeans
that he should be hanged for wearing such out of place attire
the jester fails to jest
as he loses his magic the gathering cards from his backpack
and none of the knights can agree
or disagree
on whether lost or batllestar had the worst ending
and the blacksmith sits in his shop looking up from his iphone every now and then
while his wench tears at a mutton leg with her plastic fork and knife
all in all they all agree
this was much better than last years comicon.

High Fructose Corn Syrup You Filthy Whore

High fructose corn syrup you filthy whore
You caked up slut
You sugary sweet destitute prostitute, selling yourself to any junky stoner or third grader that will have you
You have your slushy syrupy hands in w everything
I know your story
You came from a small town out in Nebraska
A simple stalk
Innocent
A virgin
With wet suguary dreams
You came here
To the city
To the factories
To the candy colored work houses
They fed you lies saying they would make you sweeter
More mature
More full bodied
And then they raped you
Disfigured you
Mutated you
Poluted and diluted and over sweetened you
And put you in ever cardboard box, coke can and candy wrapper they could stuff you
Do you even know who you are anymore?
What's inside you?
What you've become?
You're a joke
A gag
A diseased ridden whore for men in cheap suits
Oh your sweet cracked lips
Your deceptive body
You go down so smooth so easy
You're there without me even askin you to be there
How I wish I didn't love you
How I wish i wasn't hooked on you
How I wish I could cut you away from my life completely
But you're in my vains too deep
You're glucose in my bloodstream
You're a honey silk dominatrix
And I am your rushing crashing addicted slave.

Explosion

There's a girl
Dark hair, blond hair, redhead
With glasses
C cups D cups double D cups
And she's a librarian?
No no
She's a school girl
Yes yes
She's been naughty
Yes yes
She's been a naughty school girl in her short school girl skirt and school girl Glasses and schoolgirl panties
Did I email back that guy that job offer
No damn it she's a school girl
No wait she's a redhead and a doctor
Yes yes
A sexy doctor
Yes yes
No she's a nurse in a white gown and white stockings and she needs an injection
And I should remember to DVR house later and
No god no
Ok she's a secretary
A biker chick
A dominatrix
Sexy secretary biker chick dominatrix with leather
I forgot to call my mother
NO FUCK NO
Legs, boobs, glasses, arms, pay the bills, table, knees, bed, rope, iron still on, lips, tits, arched back, door closed? heels, big heels, shouting, screaming, moaning, adventure time, grabbing, thrusting, indian girl, big eyes, facebook, breast, open skirt, pussy, wet, cringe, lips, breasts, NEW GREETING CARD!
I need a new girlfriend.

Dreaming Dejavu

Have I dreamed this before?
Twenty one days ago
Or maybe it was a month or two months or a week
I woke up from a dream
And I couldn't quite remember what it was about
But it felt familiar
More than that it felt like it would feel familiar
Someday
And today,
I get a sense I've done this before
Said this before
Experienced this experience before
And I remember back to that dream I had
Twenty one days ago
Or maybe a month or two months or a week
And it feels familiar now
Like it felt familiar then
Or that it feels familiar like it would feel familiar
At least I think it does
And I get a sense of dejavu
And the strangest thing
The very strangest thing I have about this strange feeling
Is that I remember in that dream I had
Twenty one days ago
Or a month or two months or a week
I remember getting dejavu
About having this feeling.
At least I think I did.

That Last Moment

In a moment, this moment I am experiencing
Right now, with you
This moment we are both sharing
Will pass and be lost in a thousand billion moments we've already experienced.
This moment
This moment that you are experiencing with me right now
In only a moment in time
Not even a year or a week or a day or an hour
But even in a moment in time
You will remember this moment
This moment we both have shared
And you will question whether this moment ever existed
Or if it is one of the many false moments you've made up in your head.
Remember,
Remember that even in this moment
You knew your future self would question the existence of this moment
Remember that you remember questioning yourself about this moment
And realize this question will not help you qualify this moment's existence at all,
It will merely serve to make you question all future past moments.

Ode to Thesaurus

What is the word
The word
The word for meaning
What sounds like meaning and feels like meaning but isn't quite meaning meaning
Explanation denotation connotation
Interpretation
Interpretation sounds good
Good good
What's another word for good
A good word for good
Great excellent superb outstanding magnificent!
No that's too much
Too good for good
I'll stick with great.
Now sexy
Sexy sexy
I need a sexy word for sexy
No it'd be better if it was an unsexy word for sexy
Desiring alluring voluptuous nubile toothsome
Toothsome?
Really? I like it. Toothsome.
Now ending
What's a word for ending
How can I end with an ending that's not ending but is an ending
And an ending that isn't french of course
Conclusion resolution denouement
No not denouement
Still too french
Hmmm finale termination discontinuation
I've got it!
Begin.
Perfect.
Because an antonym is still a synonym if you use it ironically, right?
Right.
Now,
What's another word for thesaurus?

Callout to the Girl with Glasses

I dig a girl with glasses,
And that's the only kind of girl I'll dig
I give no contact to a lady with contacts
I've got no passion for a girl with perfect vision
The only woman I'll bed is the minx wearing the bright red frames.
Because You've got to respect those specs
Those fine ass brims
Those coke-bottle lenses that get me into a coked up frenzy
Those curvy spectacles that are a spectacle for my senses
To me, two eyes are not enough when four is on the table
Bifocals, trifocals,
Don't put those reading glasses away in your leopard skin case,
Take them out,
Put them on display,
Let them shimmer
Let them gleam
Let them reflect my complete ecstasy in seeing
Those big beautiful wonderful windows encasing your soul
Librarians, Secretaries, and female physicians rejoice
Because I go crazy for those specs
Because I get hot and bothered by those blinkers
Because I need to cool down after catching a glimpse of those hot glasses
Because there's just nothing sexier than a chick with nearsightedness.

Poetry

Friday I went to a poetry reading with a friend. I went last month and really enjoyed it, and everyone prodded me into writing something. This time was just as much fun; there were amazing poets, music, crazy tranny puppets, and a guy playing a saw like a violin. Also I wrote poetry.

I was quite busy all month and putting it off. FInally, Thursday night, at about 1 in the AM, I wrote a couple in an hour. I like doing poetry quickly and at the last minute, so if they suck, no harm. They seemed to go over well. Enjoy!

.txt file
I am typing this on a keyboard into a computer onto a text file
saving it
deleting it
re-typing re saving re reading
emailing it
reading it
sent from iphone to my eyes to my brain to my mouth to your ears.
Thank the mother Steve Jobs
and the father Al Gore
For I never have to write, scribble, doodle,
read, scratch out, rewrite
read, re-read, re-reread, and translate my horrible handwriting ever again.

Sitting Alone
I see the look in your eyes
The way you avoid my gaze
The way you button the top button on your blouse
The empty seat you leave beside me
Don't think I dont notice
Don't think I dont remember
The empty seat beside me on the bus,
The empty seat beside me in class
The empty seat beside me every day of my life
The invisible stalker I couldn't get rid of
You think you're being subtle
You think you're being nice
But you might as well be saying it to my face
You're a creep youre a bum
You might as well be shouting it at me
You're weird, you're strange
You dont like me? I get it. It's fine.
I don't like you either
I don't like people who dont like me
I don't like people who put a stamp on my forehead
Before I get a chance to let a word out of my mouth for your approval
You're a creep, you're a bum
You create a vacuum of hate
And I hope it sucks you out and suffocates you.
I'll save you a seat.

New Years Revolutions

SO. It's been a year. It's been over a year since I started living at home, and this past year, I've seen some things in myself that I like, some things that have improved, and some things I have a serious problem with that I really need to work on.

Things I think have gotten better: My drawing abilities. Still needs work, but I can do a butt load of stuff without reference now, and I'm pretty proud of that. Also, my photoshop skills. When I apply myself, I can really use the medium and now I'm not so dependent on flash. My website (Though now it's my blog, so I prefer to call it my blogsite) is a whole lot nicer than my website, loads faster, is easier to change and update, and can actually be seen on iphones and other mobile media. I still would like to make one in wordpress, but until I get off my lazy ass and figure out MYSQL I'm pretty happy with it.

Things I need to work on:

Finishing what I start. I have a serious problem with this. I get all amped up for a project, I get a specific idea in my head, and I try so damn hard to execute it, but I fall short. Sometimes when I don't know a program I fold under pressure. This comes through as a half ass comic or a huge animation project I couldn't possibly finish. This needs to stop. I need to know my limitations, pick smaller battles, and finish the battles I start. Radiogame Theatre is one of the few big projects that I started, finished and am generally proud of. I knew what I had to do, I saw the deadline, I planed for it, and I finished it. I need to do more projects like that.

I also have this problem with relationships. I love getting to know people, but I'm terrible at breakups. Either I'll jump it too early and say the wrong thing, or I won't do anything and the passion will just die out, like an unfinished game. I need to work on this. Is anyone out there actually good at breaking up? Don't tell me it can't be done! I've seen it!

This is also why i love Scott Pilgrim so much. There's one scene in which Scott's friend tells him he has to break up with his girlfriend, and Scott whines, "But it's haaaaaaard!" That's me. I suck at that. I hate doing it because you're mostly a cool person and I want to leave you better than I found you, and you deserve someone cool. So for all those half assed shitty break ups I apologize.

Taking on too many projects at once. This goes along with my last point; I have to pick smaller battles, and less of them. I'm always so quick to say yes to new projects because A) I never know where that project may lead and B) I get an idea in my head, I get really SUPER excited, and I think it will be much easier that it actually is. I can't count the times I've told myself, "Oh, I'll just photoshop it" and then I get into photoshop only to realize I hate my photoshop skills. So I'm sorry ahead of time if I say No to a project. It's only because I'm working on 49 other projects I think I can handle.

Laziness. I say I do alot of things, but I wake up too late to do anything productive, watch too much crap on the internet, rush projects at night, and then go to bed too late just to start the whole damn process over again. This has to stop. I need to take my patented sticky system more strictly and get shit done. I've also become too comfortable living this lifestyle. Sure I want a job and my own place, but I can get up when I want, mold my own work schedule, stay up as late as I want...were I a lesser man I'd sit on my ass and play videogames all day.

Make a routine. It's hard to stick to routines when you don't have to, and it's really hard to stick to them if half the week you go away to the city for a networking event or to work on a project, but I desperately need a routine.

FInd a job. Last year I told myself I would "try" to find a job. No more trying. Screw the economy, I'm getting a job this year. Not sure how quite yet, but I'm sure it will involve a shitload of networking. and redoing my portfolio. I don't even have an animation reel for 2010. Why? Because I was doodling all day. Granted, I was focusing on my illustration and classical drawing skills, but if I really want to be an animator, I need to animate. And model. And rig. This might put a hamper on my daily comics.

Finding a focus. It's been over a year and a half and I still don't know what to focus on. So I've narrowed it down to Animation, storyboarding, character design, illustration, writing, game design, modeling, rigging...ugh. Too much. I still have not found an animation/game design studio that's looking for a jack of all trades and I have no idea what I'd be happy with doing for a living. Honestly, I'd be happy doing any of those things, but you can't really say that in an interview.

Dating I've been majorly half assing this one. On the one end I've been telling myself I don't have time to worry about relationships, I need to work on my portfolio, and also that I don't really deserve a relationship until I get a job and an apartment. But on the other end I've been telling myself if something HAPPENS to happen, then that's good too. But somethings happen and then I just let them unhappen. I don't like that. I'm still not sure if I deserve a relationship, but I'd like one, so I'm going to try the whole dating thing, y'know, when I'm not spending all my time looking for work and buffing my portfolio.

Those are the things I'm going to work on this year. Is there anything I missed that I desperately need to work on? What are you guys going to work on this year?

One Chance

*WARNING SPOILERS*

(If you intend on playing the game "one chance" on Newgrounds, and want toe full experience, I'd recommend playing it first.)

I'm really depressed right now. I just played a game called "one chance" in which you are told every cell on earth will die in six days and you only have one chance. I misread the meaning. I spent five of the days trying to find a cure, passing up opportunities to socialize with friends, go out with a girl to "get a drink", or spend time with my family. All I ever did was spend time trying to find a damn cure. People were dying around me, and then my wife killed herself. On the fifth day, I took my daughter to the park, because no child deserves this, to be left alone. She died that day.

On the sixth day I drove into the lab and went to work. Completely fruitless, my character closed his eyes and died, alone, in that lab. The worst thing is they really do mean "you only get one chance" because not only is there no replay button, the internet settings save so you can't even reload the page. It's an incredibly haunting image to reload the game in a different browser and see that still image of your character, alone, given up, dead.

I've never wanted to replay a game so much in my life. I completely misread the design, it wasn't "you have one chance to find a cure", it was "you have one chance to enjoy your life". This is one of the most moving game experiences I've ever had. It wasn't just the idea of only being able to play the game once, or the depressing and disturbing way they drove the narrative, it was deeper than that. It made me realize something about myself.

That's exactly how I would approach the situation, using my last dying gasping breath to find a cure to the madness. This has been what I've always been doing since high school and college. I always told myself I would put my work and my art before socializing or friends or parties or girls; I would scoff at people who would blow off homework in favor of going to a club. But in the end, what will my art bring me? What great answer will it give to the world?

Not to say I'm going to stop making art and start doing keg stands, but this game made me reevaluate the way I look at life. It forced me to bring my workaholic values into question. THAT is a great game. That is the kind of game I want to make. Overall I'd give it a solid 42 out of 43.

So let's see what we've learned:

A) I am now saddened

B) I am jealous and want to make a game as good as this

C) I have to force myself to enjoy life more

This has been kind of rambly without purpose. I just felt the need to write after playing this game. I highly recommend playing it. Don't make the same mistakes I did.

http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/555181

Sticky Note System

I think I’ve finally mastered my Sticky Note System and I thought I should share it. I started it in College so I would remember all the homework I had to do in my 5 or 6 classes. I’ve kept it and evolved it and I think I finally have a good solid system. It helps me get stuff done and add structure to my routine, so maybe it can help you too! This is helpful to artists with lots of projects, or students with homework assignments.

NOTE: not for the stanch conservationist as this uses A LOT of paper, until I can find a computer program to do exactly what I want it to do(If anyone knows of such a program, message me).

First, there are five main boards: What to do for the week, what to do for the day, done for the week, Projects, and the Backburner(also I have a books board, but that’s only if you read a lot).

The Projects board is just an overall list of projects I have, it may or may not be needed. I have it because I have a huge list of ongoing projects. What to do for the week is a list of all your projects that you plan to do for that week. What to do for the day is a list of tasks you plan to do for that day. Done for the week I have split up into the 5 days of the week, and whenever you complete a task or project, you put the sticky on the according day. I find this useful for seeing how productive I was on each day, and I don’t include weekends; that’s my off time. Backburner is a list of tasks or projects you didn’t complete that day or week, although this has turned into my “Things that will never ever get done” board. So if you have a lot of stickeys on here, try to force a couple each week.

Next are the Sticky notes themselves. I use 5 different colors: Yellow, Purple, Green, Pink, and Blue. Also, each has a certain point value(This can be useful if you want to use a rewards system, but you’ll have to figure out what your point average is before setting a goal. On a normal day I clear 20 points, and on a good day I do more than 30, so I made TV a reward for 20 and videogames a reward for 30.).

Yellow is for menial tasks, chores, and little reminders, such as doing the dishes, cleaning your room, taking out the trash, going to the bank, etc. These get 1 point.

Purple are for small tasks that are important but not necessarily huge projects. Theses are things like doing a daily comic, watching a tutorial, reading a chapter in a book, practicing backgrounds, etc. These are worth 3 points.

Green and pink are tasks associated with major projects. When you have a major project like doing an animation, you can’t just put one sticky that says, “do animation”, that’s too vague. You have to break it up into smaller tasks that can be done.

I usually break them down into tasks that can be completed in an hour or two. A breakdown could be something like: write idea, do research, do character designs, do background designs, do storyboards, create animatic, animate keyframes, animate inbetweens, clean up and titles(depending on how big the animation that is). These stickys are worth 5 points.

Blue are reserved for the major projects themselves and are worth 10 points, so when you complete a huge project, you get to see how much you’ve done. Major projects could be homework assignments. Books to read, art projects, etc.

You can see pictures here of how I have it set up. I place the main project sticky at the top with al the task stickys underneath.

(the cards are for something completely different, they represent all the contacts I’ve met.)

I usually have 6 projects or so per week, and I put 12 tasks to do a day(although I rarely do that much). When the week’s over, I discard them all(when you have them all in your hand, you can really see how much you did that week). Since it’s a system you did yourself, it’s hard to cheat yourself. I don’t put anything too easily done or give myself points I didn’t earn. What’s the point? Don’t you want to feel like you’ve accomplished something?

I hope this helps anyone who’s looking for a structured way to get stuff done!

Writing this article gives me 3 points. Go me.

My 10 Tips for Facebook Dating

A guy friends a girl he wants to go out with. A girl chats with a guy who seems like boyfriend material. It happens all the time and it’s completely normal. I just wanted to give you my top ten tips on dating when it comes to Facebook(although some may work with online dating in general, or perhaps even real life!).

1. Know the difference between general interest and romantic interest

Just because she LOL’d at your comment does not mean she wants to sleep with you(although sometimes it does). And just because he comments on all your photos doesn’t mean he wants to be your new BF(although sometimes it does).

There are so many times when people start talking and they misread signals because a someone is just being friendly. If she ‘liked’ that one comment you posted, don’t read into it. If she gives you her phone number after talking over facebook chat several times, then you can call home.

2. Don’t friend your friend’s friends

Gosh that’s fun to say. But seriously, don’t. I’m not talking about someone who you have 10 mutual friends and who you probably met in a class and just don’t remember, I’m talking about that cute girl who is obviously best friends with your mate form class that you’ve never met. It’s creepy and they will think it’s creepy. They will asking, “why is he friending me?”

Not to mention pissing off the friend of the person you’re friending; it just looks like you’re using that person to get to all the hot people on their friendslist. The exceptions to this is if A) you’ve met the person in real life, it was a positive interaction, and they want to get to know you more, B) you find yourself exchanging comments and likes over your mutual friend’s posts and you both want to cut out the middle man to talk, or C) if your friend introduces you. Otherwise, it just looks like you’re friending random hot people. Speaking of which…

3. Don’t friend random people (unless you have a good reason)

Some people think it’s weird to just go out and friend strangers, but I for one have made numerous good friends of people I’ve met in groups or through friends, or just randomly. I consider it acceptable as long as you have a good reason, and no, thinking their pics are hot doesn’t count. Having mutual interests, liking their clothing/art style, liking their sense of humor or their links and posts, does.

Actually, this is similar to real dating, because you can’t just date someone because they’re hot, you have to like something about their character. Plus, anyone can be hot these days with the right photoshop filters. Now having said that…

4. Don’t start dating someone unless you’re sure you’re attracted to them

I’m not saying anything about beauty, or that you should only date supermodels. Attraction has to do with what you like and what you’re attracted to. There are a lot of beautiful ladies I know that I’m just not attracted to because they’re not my style or type. What I am saying is don’t get too involved with someone before you know what you’re getting into.

I would highly recommend not getting to much into sexual talk with someone who doesn’t have pictures up, because there’s nothing like falling in love with the idea of someone and then meeting up and getting taken completely by surprise(especially if you made a point of saying looks don’t matter to you). Which brings up possibly my most important tip that should be taken with ALL online dating…

5. Meet up as soon as possible

I’ve been guilty of this more than once. As soon as one of you suggest meeting up and hanging out(and the other agrees this is a good idea), meet up within the week if you can. You need to find out if you two are really compatible and can stand each other; this cannot be found out on the internet.

The longer you prolong a meet up, one of two things will happen: it will get more and more sexual in which case there’s a big chance that you’ll meet up, find out it doesn’t work, and then it’s too late to end it nicely, or one or both of you will get bored and the relationship will die out. If you meet up and you both realize it won’t work out for whatever reason, the both of you can still be friends. If you meet and it turns out well, then hey, you can make out in real time rather than making :* faces at each other. There’s an important addendum to this:

6. Don’t start dating someone 5 states away

Seriously, what do you think will happen? One of you is going to hop on a plane and fly down every other weekend? Why would you knowingly enter into a relationship like that? I know this is the information age and you can have skype sex with girls in Bangladesh if you want, but if you know she’s in another country before hand, it’s best to just stay friends.

I would say the most you should have to go to meet up is a long car ride. Otherwise, you’ll both tell each other you’ll visit, then neither of you will, then one or both of you will realize you can have your needs met very easily somewhere much closer. So if you’re a guy in Arizona and you found this really beautiful gamer chick in Alaska, what can I say but…

7. There are other fish in the sea

Because, yes, we do live in the information age. So if you meet a girl and she’s cute but she hates anime, or you met someone on a train and you friended them only to find out they’re already married, or the girl you’ve been posting comments to just doesn’t get your kind of humor, or the girl you were holding off asking out suddenly went from “single” to “it’s complicated”, let it go because quite literally, you will find someone else. I really don’t understand why people STILL get hung up on others(ok I do, but move on) when they could so easily be perusing facebook(or any number of other online sites really) for other prospective partners! Which brings me to my next point…

8. Don’t stalk people

Unless the other party stalks you back and it becomes a mutual stalking, otherwise, just don’t. But you don’t stalk people, right?

FACT: 72% of facebook users stalk friends without even knowing it(not a real fact). Do you: Comment and like every single one of their posts? Go through their extensive photo library and like and comment on their hottest picks with comments like “Ur so sexxxxy”? Do you even comment on conversations they’re having on other people’s walls? You may be a stalker.

Now I’m not saying you should completely ignore them, but try to keep the comments to a minimum. Comment only as much as you would comment any other friend. And don’t comment for the sake of commenting, actually have a good reason or funny quip for doing so. Don’t be one of the ten guys that likes a girl’s new sexy photo, be the one guy she has a meaningful conversation with and gives her IM name to. But then, a little stalking can go a long way…

9. Don’t ask stupid questions

I’m not sure about anyone else, but when someone asks me questions that are clearly on my Facebook info page, I get really annoyed. Really? It’s that hard to see what college I graduated from? No, I’m not going back on my previous entry about stalking, but you should at least scan the info page(after you’ve freinded them of course) before asking the most general of questions to start a conversation.

And by doing so, you’ll have a better conversation! “Oh I see you like MGMT. What do you think of their new work?” Also, don’t get mad if someone doesn’t memorize every you single thing you like. It’s really hard to remember sometimes whether someone is “single” or “in a relationship”.

10. Facebook dating is not a substitution for real dating

Let me explain. It’s fine if you met someone on facebook you really like. It’s fine if you get really into each other before you even meet up(well not if you follow my tips). It’s fine if you start sexting each other and plan out in detail what you’re going to do with each other. But when you finally do meet up, don’t expect to copulate right there in Grand Central.

Just because you talked about it over the Internet doesn’t mean you just skipped that whole, “getting used to each other a.k.a. going on a date” thing. You still need to prove that you’re a sane human and that you are the person you typed you are, and that both of you have something more in common than the love of sexting. So yes guys, even though you wooed her with your snarky quips, You still need to woo her in real life.

Well I hope these tips help you in your scandalous facebook affairs. Do you disagree with any of them? What should I add or take away? What are your tips for facebook dating?

Waiting for Joseph Varnhein

This is a short piece of fiction I just wrote entitled Waiting for Joseph Varnhein. I hope you enjoy it!

I read all his books, and he wasn’t even there. All seven of his amazing books in the Gatsby Starship Series, all of his short stories(even the one with the tentacles he said he only did for the money), his biography, his autobiography, and I even signed up on that thing know as Twitter just to get his inspirational quotes every week or so. I drove three hours out of my way, in the car kept together by Duct Tape, in my dirty white Stop N’ Save shirt just to wait on line, just to see his face, just to get a squiggle that barely resembles the beautiful words, “Joseph Varnhein” on a book to battered to remember its creator.

And he wasn’t even there.

A few fans were standing around, arguing over whether Tabatha really died in the fifth book and whether the second was better than the fourth. The Borders patrons were walking around as if nothing had happened, as if Gods walked around them daily. There was one guy dressed in tin foil and wire that really made a good Drasnick from the third book. I tried to figure out what had happened to the man I joined the Twitter for. He was here. He wasn’t here. He was here, but then he left, but he’ll be coming back in a Cadillac, so don’t worry. The point was that he was not here now and I was standing with an unsquiggled-on book. It was probably about time I took care of the bladder problem I had been holding for the last forty-five minutes anyway.

I was standing at the urinal with my back to the door, watching my urine create a city of bubbles when I heard the creaking of another visitor. He shuffled straight past me and headed to the middle stall. I only caught a glimpse of him through the corner of my eye, but I saw the brown blazer and the gray mustache, and that was all I needed. That was Joseph Varnhein.

The stream instantly cut off. I was petrified. Dare I peak in the crease between the stall door and wall and risk bursting into flames at witnessing the holy of holies?

Crazy idea the first: Jump over the stall, snap a quick picture with the phone I never use, and blackmail him into coming to my house and signing every book in his series.

Crazy idea the second: crawl under the stall and hand him both a pen and a book without looking.

I could do neither of these. I stood and listened. Just to listen to Joseph Varnhein would be enough. There was a rustling of toilet paper being pulled and carefully placed down. Of course he’s a careful man. I’m surprised they don’t have a fur seat cover waiting for him with the letters of his name outlined in gold.

There’s a shuffling of shoes, and a fiddling of the belt buckle. I don’t know why, of course Joseph Varnhein wears pants, I just never imagined him with a belt. Not that it isn’t obviously a practical way to keep one’s pants up, it’s just the clickity clack of the buckle unhinging from the notch is such a normal familiar sound. I suppose I would have pictured fairies holding up and lightly dropping his pants for him, but I suppose that’s just a little much.

And then there is nothing but his breathing. I could never envision Joseph Varnhein breathing like that. One could scarcely envision Joseph Varnhein breathing at all. Do gods breathe? Do heroes breathe? I guess they have to. It’s a deep nasally intake, just a bit raspy. It’s long and slow and a paints a picture of his lungs filling with oxygen. He doesn’t remind me of my grandfather. He reminds me of all the old people sitting around my grandfather, with walkers and breathing mechanisms, watching Alex Trabeck on a TV with rabbit ears.

The breathing doesn’t sound human in the emotional sense of the word, not as though you’d envision a brother or a sister or a friend. It’s mechanical. This is a Joseph Varnhein breathing machine.

There is a heaving and a panting and a silent release of gas. I can’t in all conscience picture what this Joseph Varnhein machine is doing. And then there is a plop in the water, a light splash. Two plops. Three. This is the creator of the seven greatest works of literature of all time and something is coming out of him. If this were really a Joseph Varnhein machine, I’d like to think that what was going on here was the creative process. Three little ideas just dropped into the water and are floating there, waiting to be used. Four. But I realize I’ve been standing at a urinal for the past two minutes, holding my genitals, and this can not possibly be anything related to writing an epic.

I zipped up and walked over to the sink to fill my hands with soap. It is only after I’m standing with my hands under the sorry excuse for a wind machine that I realized I’d forgotten to flush. One does not forget to flush in the presence of Joseph Varnhein, no matter what process he’s in the middle of completing. I had to walk over and shamefully pull the plunger. And then of course I had to wash my hands again because one must be clean in the presence of Joseph Varnhein.

And I waited. I’ve read all his books and all his short stories and I drove three hours out of my way to listen to this machine release gas, and I wasn’t about to leave without knowing whether this is really Joseph Varnhein or not. Because there’s always the chance the creator of the battered and now slightly wet tome I’m holding does not share the same identity as the man that is in that stall. A very good chance.

There was a flush, and the familiar sound of the belt buckle again. He unlocked the stall, and walked out. There was a moment of awkward silence as we both stared at each other. I gave him the weakest smile I had while hiding the book behind my back. He shot a quick smile back, and then he left. I didn’t ask him to squiggle on my book. I didn’t run after him and ask him about the riddle of the squid in the fifth book, which had been bothering me for four years; I just stood there and continued to wait. Because that was not Joseph Varnhein.

Joseph Varnhein would not have made those noises and sounds. Joseph Varnhein would not have made those breathing noises. Joseph Varnhein would have had a much more serene creative process. Joseph Varnhein would have washed his hands. Joseph Varnhein would have been great, and that was not Jospeph Varnhein. So I kept waiting. But he didn’t come.

I read all his books and he wasn’t even there.

Why I would never make a Spider-Man Game

“LIES!” you say. “How could you even think such a slanderous thing?!” Well ok, I might consider it. But here’s why I’d rather have my own character in an original videogame.

You can’t make him dance

You’re using someone else’s pre-made character instead of your own. That character comes with baggage: his own ways of doing things, his own quips, his own reasons, his own backstory. It would be like playing D&D with someone else’s character. “I want Broahan the Wise to slit that Goblin’s throat.” “What? You can’t do that! Broahan the Wise would never do such a thing!!” This already used, already established character has a certain way of doing things, and there’s no way you can change that, because that’s what defines the character.

This is also the reason why people say Batman is the least interesting character in the story. Batman will never go over the edge and murder someone, he’ll always have his parents killed and have a need to avenge them, he’ll always have the need to dress up like a bat, and he’ll never say, “Nah, I’ll take a break from crime fighting tonight. The crooks can arrest themselves.” And to meander from these traits would not be Batman. How could Batman not be Batman? His villains, on the other hand, have a little bit more leeway, and the game/cartoon/movie/comic creators always have the opportunity of creating a new one.

Everyone will hate you

Why did we all hate Spider-Man in Spider-Man 3(Let’s not get into the fact that they had too many villains with too little screen time)? He was acting the way Spider-Man would never act. Peter Parker would never strut down the sidewalk provocatively. Peter Parker would never break into a jazz number. Peter Parker would never do a sassy hair flip at J. Jonah Jameson (No seriously, WTF Pete?!). Peter Parker would never kiss another random girl when he’s already dating a super model. Wasn’t that what you were thinking when you watched that? They messed with an established character.

Now, if they had made a film about Super Duper Arachno Man©, all those things could have been believable because it was a new character. In fact, if they had gone that route, all those things could have looked like they were mocking the established character of Spiderman, as Kick-Ass did so wonderfully.

It’s all been done before

Characters like Spider-Man and Batman have been around a long time, so any “new” idea you may have for that character(that would fit with that character and in that universe) has probably already been done before. He’s had a girlfriend, he’s been married, he’s had his unborn child murdered, he’s been in an alternate reality where he does have a kid, he’s had clones, he’s has secret robot parents, what more do you want to do to the poor guy?

Make your own character

You don’t want to write fan-fiction all your life, do you? By making your own character instead of using an already existing one, you can make him richer and fuller than any pre-established character. Don’t make an exact carbon copy, just enough to pay some homage. Give him enough unique touches to make him an interesting and rich character. Maybe Super Duper Arachno Man© is a huge tool and gives everyone a sassy hair flick because the Super Duper Archno Radiation© that gave him his powers also gave him incurable cancer and he has to get in all the sassy hair flicks he can! Interesting yes, but could you ever see that as storyline for Spider-Man? No. Which makes it even better in a game or animation, you’ve just made something unique that no one else could have seen coming.

Super Duper Arachno Man©2010

A Strategic Use of Swearing or What the F@#$?!

Profanity is an important tool in any artist’s tool belt. Whether it’s movies, games, novels, or plays, dirty language needs to be carefully considered. Some authors abstain from swearing because they feel it’s juvenile. Others swear every other word to feel natural. I am neither arguing for the use of swearing or arguing against it, but merely suggesting a smart way of considering whether or not you should.

And before we go any further: Ass, Fuck, Bitch, Bastard, Cunt, Damn, Hell, Balls, Meekrab.

To curse or to hold your tongue

In some instances, it makes dialogue feel more natural and situations feel more realistic. Why? Because in real life, we curse all the time. When we stub our pinky toe on the corner of the coffee table, when we just realize our significant other has his or tongue down another’s throat, when we get hit by a blue shell while playing Mario Cart, we swear. A lot. But as discussed below, it doesn’t mean every other word should use a swear.

But then, there are a lot of instances where swearing isn’t needed at all, and the writing still looks realistic and full of life. If you’re writing something from the past(1800’s, 1920’s, middle ages), it’s more realistic if you don’t swear(also consider the curses of the time. There was a time when Zounds! was synonymous with damn). I would go so far as to recommend not swearing if you’re just starting out, or at least trying a pg script first; finding new ways to express, “Fuck!” will make you a better writer.

Why is it so bad?

Why is swearing such a big deal? Why did we feel so dirty exclaiming, “Crud!” when we were kids? Swearing is a forbidden language.

Why do we do it?

But why do we swear in the first place? Because, first, we want to insult someone or curse the situation but we’re too flustered or frustrated to express what we’re feeling with the right words or come up with something more hyperbolic. It’s much easier to say “Fuck you Asshole!” than to say, “Sir, that was completely unprofessional. Your use of language concerning my weight and dietary habits was completely out of line, and I think you a buffoon for doing so. You are a horrible human being, and I wish you the worst torment imaginable for such actions.”

Second, we’re so angry we want to use a word, or string of words, that we feel would do harm to the person or thing causing us pain. “You stupid fuck-monkey!” Yeah, that’s right, you called him a fuck-monkey. He’ll think twice about getting your coffee order wrong now.

How to use it for comedic value

This can be hard. There is no straight “swear” or “don’t swear” rule in comedy. The basic rule is to do what the audience is least expecting. Sometimes it’s incredibly funny to hear children swear at certain occasions because it’s the opposite of what you’d expect a child to say.

Other times, a grown man who swears like a drunken Sailor on Crack might have his next words be, “Oh my dear lord!” because that would be the least likely thing to come out of his mouth. It has that effect of the character experiencing something so incredible, it’s beyond regular swearing capacity.

It’s best to use it where it will have the most impact. If you have a character that swears like a sailor, juxtapose him with characters that never utter a dirty word, or cringe at his foul mouth. Your curse might burst from the mouth of a character that has been holding it in the entire adventure waiting for the wrong moment to explode. Or perhaps it’s used wrong on purpose by characters that aren’t worldly enough to have smarter language.

How to not use swearing

Swearing is not a meaningful character trait. Yes, I’m looking at you Gears of War. Your characters do not look full and rich if all they have going for them is putting “fuck” and “shit” five times in every sentence. It doesn’t look smart or realistic, just lazy. Especially if ALL of the character swear the exact amount and in the same way.

Best use of swearing

The best use of swearing is when you get the idea of swearing, the feel of swearing, without actually using a swear at all. Fantastic Mr. Fox did a wonderful job of this by implanting the word “cuss” in place of every swear word that would have been there.” “Are you cussing at me?” “Don’t cuss at me!” What the cuss is going on?!” This is a great way of expressing the feel of a forbidden word. Another good example is from Mystery Team where the main characters are juvenile, so to them, shouting, “Gumballs!” and “Chinese Checkers!” are the worst curses they can muster.

I hope this fucking helps in your god forsaken piece of shit script!

The Hilton and the Pea

 

A narrator walks to the middle of the stage.

 

NARRATOR

Once upon a time there lived a prince who wanted to marry a real princess.  He traveled the world and found many a fair damsel, but knew not which ones were real and which ones were not.  One stormy night, there came a knock on the door of the castle.  The king answered himself and found to his surprise a fair damsel in a terrible way.  She claimed to be a real princess, but how were they to know?  The Queen mother had a grand idea. She went into the bedroom in where the princess was to stay, took off the bed sheets, placed a pea upon the mattress, then layered the bed with twenty mattresses and twenty quilts.  “We shall see in the morning,” said the Queen mother, “whether or not this princess is true.”

 

The NARATOR exits the stage.  The curtains rise to reveal a royal dining room where the KING and QUEEN are eating breakfast.

 

KING

(in a jovial mood)

Well my queen, wasn’t that a horrible storm last night?  I could barely hear myself snore!

 

QUEEN

(looking up at the ceiling every so often as if trying to see to the second floor)

Well, I could hear you snoring just fine, so I dare say you couldn’t have lost that much sleep over it.  I do wonder how that girl is doing, though.  She seemed rather odd to me.

 

KING

Oh come now!  You’re suspicious of every girl that passes through.  I thought she was a rather charming girl.

 

PARIS HILTON walks into the dining room with a disheveled look about her.

 

PARIS

(yawning heavily)

OMG!  I am like…so starving right now…you wouldn’t even believe it.

 

KING

(jovially, motioning to the servants to bring her food)

Come!  Come!  Sit down!  Eat! Tell us, my good lady, how did you sleep last night?  Was the bed comfy enough to suit a princess’s needs?

 

PARIS HILTON

(sitting at table as servant brings food, explaining rather emotionally)

It wasn’t even!  O…M…G, it was so totally not comfortable and junk!  I was like…tossing and turning all night…and then this big rat comes up and like…starts talking to me and stuff!  And I’m all like…WTF?

 

The KING gives the QUEEN a decisive nod. QUEEN stares at PARIS with perplexed look.

 

PARIS HILTON

I totally wasn’t sleeping a wink.   So I was like, whateves…and I just like, went to stay in John’s room and junk.

 

QUEEN drops her fork mid-bite; the KING coughs on his drink.

 

QUEEN

(aghast)

You…you slept in the prince’s room?!

 

PARIS HILTON

Yeah, no, it was totally cool and junk.  He is such a sweaty!  And…OMG…those abs?

 

QUEEN

You slept…IN THE PRINCE’S ROOM?!

 

PRINCE walks into the dining room table with no shirt on and a glazed over contented look about him. 

 

PARIS HILTON

(looking at PRINCE seductively)

Hey hot stuff.

 

PRINCE bends down, kisses PARIS’s cheek, then takes a seat at the table between the QUEEN and PARIS.  QUEEN is still aghast, KING is trying to regain composure.

 

KING

(awkwardly jovial)

So…my son…how did you sleep last night?

 

PRINCE

(looking from KING to PARIS with a pleased look)

Sleep?

 

QUEEN

OH MY GOD!  JOHN, DO NOT TELL ME YOU HAVE HAD RELATIONS OUTSIDE OF WEDLOCK!

 

PARIS

OMG!  Don’t have a shoe or whatever!  We totally didn’t do that.  It was totally fine and junk.

(pauses mid-bite to think a moment)

Wait…John, what’s wedlock?

 

QUEEN

(screaming now)

OH MY GOD!  OHMYGOD!  STEPHEN!  HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM ABOUT THIS?!

 

KING

(awkwardly)

Well, I’m just glad that…our son has finally found someone he can be happy with.

 

JOHN

(chucking, smiling dumbly)

Yeah.

 

PARIS

See John?  Your dad is like, a total sweaty.

 

PARIS gives a longing look at the KING, who pretends not to notice.  The QUEEN looks perplexedly from PARIS to the KING and back again several times.  Her look turns to horror.

 

QUEEN

(staring at king in rage)

Oh…my God!  OHMYGOD!  STEPHEN!!!  YOU…YOU…YOU SAID YOU WERE GETTING A DRINK OF WATER!!!

 

PARIS

(chuckling)

Some drink of water.  It’s good to be the king.  And junk.

 

PRINCE

(questioningly)

What?

 

KING

(defensively)

No!  I was!  I…I was thirsty!  I…I…

 

PARIS

(eating calmly)

LOL.  Yeah, no, it’s totally cool.  I do that sorta thing like…all the time and junk.

 

QUEEN

(still screaming)

YEAH!  NO!  IT IS NOT TOTALLY COOL!! AND JUNK!!

 

PARIS

(rolling her eyes)

God.  Like…don’t have a shoe or whatever.

 

QUEEN

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!  WHO TALKS THAT WAY?!  WHERE DO YOU COME FROM THAT PEOPLE TALK THAT WAY?!

 

JOHN

(now also aghast)

Wait…did you…you bedded my father?!

 

PARIS

(brushing it off)

No, sillikens.  I just sucked his cock a little…and stuff.  No biggie.

 

QUEEN

(throwing plate in KING’s direction)

Get out of my house!  GETOUTOFMYHOUSE!

 

KING

(finally losing temper)

WOMAN!  YOU FORGET WHOSE KINGDOM YOU RESIDE IN!  I AM THE KING AND I WILL LET ANY GIRL I CHOOSE SUCK THE ROYAL COCK!!

 

QUEEN

Stephen!  You are a…a…

 

PARIS

(laughing as if suddenly hit by something funny)

Oh my God.  Stephen King.  I just got that. Sooooo funny.

 

QUEEN

YOUNG LADY! YOU AND I ARE GOING TO HAVE WORDS!

 

QUEEN gets up quickly and drags PARIS away off stage.  PRINCE with a disgruntled look, looks from door to KING and back again.

 

PRINCE

Did she…did she do that thing where…

(makes gesture with hand)

 

KING

(pleased)

Yes.  Yes she did.

 

PRINCE

(also pleased)

Yeah.  That was good.

 

They both turn their heads toward the door as they can hear the QUEEN moaning.

 

QUEEN

(off stage)

Oooooooh…OOOOOOOOOOH!  AH!  EEEEEEE!  OH.  Ah ah ah.  OOOOOOOOOHHH.  OH MY GOD!  OHMYGOD!  OOOH, OOOOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD!  AH AH AH AH! AAAAAAAH!

 

The QUEEN screams.  There is a long pause, then the QUEEN walks back in, disheveled, with a drained look about her.  She sits back down and starts breathing heavily.  PARIS walks in after her, wipes something from her mouth, sits down, and starts eating again.

 

QUEEN

(out of breath)

Alright.  She can stay.

 

KING, QUEEN, and PRINCE sigh and slump down in their seats.  Lights dim until there is only a light on PARIS.  A Phone rings.  It is PARIS’s cell phone, which she picks up and answers.

 

PARIS

Hello?  Oh hi sweaty.  No…yeah no.  OMG!  There was like a witch and she tied me up, and she was totally going to eat me and junk, and, yeah!  And I was all like WTF?  I know, totally!  Yeah no the woodsman was a total hottie.  No I’m at this castle place and it’s totally cool.  No you should.  No you should!  Nicole don’t be a bitch.  Ok I love you too sweaty, buh bye!

 

PARIS clicks phone closed.  Light goes off.