Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Applesauce (three word Wednesday - abandon, gradual, precise)

More from the cast of "In the Line Of Duty", "The New Assignment" and "Meeting Savannah". Thanks in advance for visitng!

“Are you serious? That is your car?”

Brian remotely unlocked a white Volkswagen Jetta in the parking lot of the FBI building, “What’s wrong with the car?”

“Nothing. If you’re a chick,” Savannah jeered, climbing into the passenger seat.

“The Jetta had very high reviews. Good gas mileage, excellent warranty, reasonable price...” Brian secured his safety belt, turned the ignition and adjusted his MP3.

“What are you trying to do, sell it to me? Thanks but no thanks, commercial man.”

“I thought you said this was a chick ride?”

“It is. Doesn’t mean I’d want one. Too froofy for me,” Savannah revealed a pistol from the glove box, “whoa, nice!”

“Can you please put that back!?” Brian’s voice turned stern.

“Suppose I should learn to shoot one of these eh? Is this thing loaded?”

“You’re holding it up where everyone can see! Put it DOWN Savannah!”

“All right… easy there Applesauce, wasn’t gonna shoot nobody,” Savannah returned the firearm to the glove box. “So can we go to a firing range?”

“Maybe sometime. Not now.”

Savannah frowned and retrieved a wallet from the pocket of her Capri pants. Fidgeting idly with it, she abruptly flipped it open and shouted, “FREEZE! FBI, Muddafuckers!”

Brian jumped out of his skin. “Can we NOT do that while I’m driving?”

“You really need to chill…”

“Wait, they gave you a badge?”

“Course. I’m pro,” she boasted.

“What ever happened to ‘all you stuffpants cannot think for yourselves’

“Stuffpants?” Savannah giggled, “Try stuffshirts. If you stuff your pants, that’s your business.”

Brian glanced at her badge, it was the real deal. How could Ed have given her a badge? She continued, “I told you, I’m pro. I’ll be stopping muddafuckers in their tracks!”

“A little discretion Savannah, that badge is for agents that carry themselves professionally. They wouldn’t be shouting muddafuckers…”

“Precisely. I told you though, I’m no stuffshirt. I’m not gonna keep my mouth clean and drive around in girly cars.” She resumed her mock arrest, “Freeze fuckers, FBI! Is that better?”

Brian sighed. Savannah felt her humor had been lost, and decided to change topic. “So what’s your story Applesauce? Am I gonna meet a new mom? New brothers and sisters?”

“I’m divorced. No kids. Well, until you, I guess. What’s with Applesauce?”

“I figured since I like you better, I upgraded you from Asshole to Applesauce.”

Brian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, “Can you not call me that?”

“Too late, you responded to it already. That means you accepted it, so you’re stuck with it… Applesauce.”


“You like it, you know you do,” Savannah taunted.

“What about you? What’s your story?”

Savannah panned her eyes downward, “Dad abandoned me and mom when I was four. Who knows where that asshole is...”

“And your mom?”

She spoke in sincerity, “Mom OD’d when I was eight. She had a gift too, stronger than mine. Her mind gradually drove her crazy. She could not turn it off. She had all these headaches. Needed drugs to cope. Became too dependent and that was that.”

Brian was touched as she raised her eyes to him. It was the first time he had seen genuine emotion from the sassy girl.

“I don’t wanna end up like that. I’m gonna keep my powers under control. And I’m staying off drugs. No matter how bad it gets.”

Brian smiled, “That’s a good girl.” He failed to see what Ed saw in this teenager that would make her valuable until this moment. Beneath the sarcasm and the teasing was a responsible young adult. He placed his hand on her shoulder, mimicking a proud father, “You won’t end up that way.”

Savannah snapped into her normal tone, “OK creepy. Touch my shoulder again I’ll bend your fingers backwards 'til they break.”

“Sorry I was just trying to console…”

“Asshole. That’s right, you’re downgraded.”

“Can you stop with the swearing? It’s not very ladylike,” Brian slowed to a stop at a traffic light.

“You’re the one with the Jetta.”

“This is not a chick ride!”

“Oh yeah?” Savannah nodded her head in a motion to advise Brian to look left. A large man in a pick-up truck craned his head curiously to examine the Jetta’s operator, then cowered in embarrassment upon noticing Brian.

“You must get all the guys in this thing. Maybe I should drive it.”

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Thanks for noticing, Asshole.”

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Hostage (three word Wednesday - dread, grasp, pacify)

This is a continuation of past 3ww short story "Bad to Worse," hope you enjoy.

Ryan awakened to a coarse sound of a heavy iron door being pushed open. Sharp pain spiked from his scalp as he lifted his head. He returned his cheek to the drool on wooden floor, forcing his eyes open. The blur of wooden barrels and crates surrounded him. Straddling the floor did his dizziness little justice, the entire room swayed to and fro. His eyeballs rolled backwards in a desire for unconsciousness.

“Sit up kid, it’s time you eat something.” A male voice spoke from behind him. Ryan squirmed to change angle, rolling onto his back. His face filled with dread when he recognized the unclear image of the weasel-like Carlos.

“Uuunnnhhh fooood?” Ryan said in a weak groan.

Carlos presented a hot dog on a paper plate. Ryan struggled to sit upright; hair brushed his cheeks and fell upon his shoulders. “Whaaa?” he gasped, bringing his hands to the surprisingly long hair. Examining his head as much as handcuffs would allow, he discovered the new mane of dirty blond hair also fell down his back.

“What have you done to me?”

“I think they call it a hair weave,” Carlos was amused, watching Ryan grasp his new extensions and pull wildly, only causing himself further scalp pains. Ryan’s fright deepened when he noticed the black skirt he was wearing only covered twenty percent of his shaven legs. His balance teetered as the room shifted to the ocean waves.

“MY CLOTHES!!” Ryan squealed, pulling at his powder blue halter top.

“Brick thought you had better get used to wearing that sorta stuff. Break you in, I guess.”

“YOU FREAKS! I want my clothes back NOW!”

“I don’t really think you’re in any position to make demands. Now why don’t you be a good girl and eat this hot dog.” Carlos grinned evilly.

“I am NOT a girl!”

“Like I said, the breaking-in stage… now here.”

Ryan eyed the food, feigning disinterest. He tried to hide the fact his stomach was growling. He felt like they were starving him. Perhaps they were. Perhaps he should turn his nose up to the hot dog and starve to death. Ryan sat motionless and scowling. Carlos finally spoke, “Look kid, don’t blame me. I woulda left you dead in a ditch. You ain’t hurting nobody but yourself if you don’t eat. Then again, you lose a few more pounds and you’re gonna be quite a hottie to the auctioneers.”

Ryan swallowed hard. He did not fully know what Carlos meant, but it did not sound good at all. The raging hunger took over. Ryan lunged at the hot dog and devoured it with haste. He did not care about the scattered powder on the meat; he ate viciously and was not satisfied when it was gone.

“Are we on a boat?” Ryan finally spoke after licking the last of the powder from his fingers. Carlos merely smiled.

Ryan’s voice started to slur. “You’re not gonna tell meeee wherrrr weeeeeeerr...” His head fell backward to a thud against the wood floor. A giant man called to Carlos from the doorway, “Did he eat?”

“Yea Brick, he did.”

“You give him both pills?”

“The sedative will keep him pacified. You can see that’s already taken effect.” Carlos motioned to the unconscious cross-dressed boy.

“And the other one?”

Carlos sighed in reluctance, “Yes, I added the estrogen too.”

The two men left the storage room of the ship, closing the heavy iron door in their wake.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

In the Line Of Duty (three word Wednesday - fear, ignore, weightless)

This is a little more storyline involving characters from past 3ww installments "Meeting Savannah," and "The New Assignment". Hope you enjoy.

“No Ed, absolutely not.”

“I knew you’d object. Don’t worry, everything’s taken care of. You just need to sign the form.”

“I really don’t think this will work.”

The tall, slender supervisor placed a hand on his shoulder, ignoring Brian’s objection. ”Brian, I would only give this arrangement to our most trusted agents.”

Brian caressed the left temple of his forehead, trying to digest what was being asked of him. He knew that employment with the FBI meant they owned you. They could send you anywhere… at any time… as anyone. They made the decisions for you. They thought for you. They were your brain. “She’s a terror Ed. How did you get her to agree to it?”

“Full scholarship for a college of her choice.”

“That was all it took?”

Ed laughed, “No. We also threw in a car, backstage passes to Lady Gaga, and a shopping spree.”

Brian placed his palm on his forehead. Ed continued, ”We presented her with a few candidates. She chose you, as hard as that is for you to believe.”

“Lucky me,” Brian sighed.

“She’s a great asset, Brian.”

Brian frowned and accepted the papers from Ed’s hands. He reviewed the documents in a prolonged silence. Ed waited until Brian’s head emerged from the documents to speak, “I realize this is asking a lot…”

“Adoption?” Brian said with a tone of fear.

“She’s a minor Brian. It would make travelling easier if you were her legal guardian.”

“She’s almost an adult herself…”

“Which is exactly why this arrangement is ideal! Once she is eighteen, she’s not your responsibility anymore.”

“I don’t know the first thing about parenting…”

“She’s an independent person Brian. And it’s not like we’re asking you to change diapers.”

Brian lowered his eyes to the document, “I still think this is above and beyond what is expected of me.”

“She’s an orphan Brian. What orphan hasn’t always wanted a father? Like I said, you are the most trusted agent in the business. I certainly would not place the life of a dependent in an agent’s hands if I did not trust them with my own…”

Brian was touched. Ed had the reputation of a hard ass, and sincere compliments were not in his character. He looked into the wizened, begging eyes of his superior. A long silence subsided with Brian’s sigh.

“Give me the pen. I cannot believe I am doing this.”

The scribbling sound ceased and the document was surrendered to Ed. The slender man shook Brian’s hand, “Thank you. Come with me.”

The two men walked down a long hallway and pushed open a door identified as the office of “Chief Edward Emerson.” An invite into the supervisor’s office was privilege in itself. Brian had only been in this spotless office once before, when they first met six years ago. The place had not changed much. Everything had its place. The books were arranged alphabetically in his bookcase, the blinds were pulled to the same length on all three windows, the abacus on his desk… was not on his desk but instead weightlessly sustained over the surface. Ed exchanged a nod with the red head girl sitting in his plush office chair. He spun on his heel to Brian, “Agent Hunt, a young woman that needs no introduction.” The abacus slowly descended onto the desk and the teenager stood up.

Savannah twisted her lip and winked mischievously, “Hi Daddy!”

Brian gave a bleak smile. ‘Daddy’ would take some getting used to. Ed dropped an envelope in his empty hand.

“What are these? Tickets?”


“Where are we headed?” Brian opened the envelope, expecting plane tickets to some exotic or dangerous destination.

“I thought it would be a good bonding experience with your daughter,” Ed smirked playfully. ‘Daughter’ would also need to grow on him. Brian’s shoulders slouched in disappointment, while Ed and Savannah smiled at each other.

“Two Lady Gaga tickets!!”

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Bad To Worse (three word Wednesday - escape, hum, vibrant)

Ryan shivered to the bone. Trudging through dense rain, he appeared as if he had just climbed out of a lake. ‘So hungry,’ he thought. That didn’t matter. Not the lack of food, not the lack of shelter. These were secondary. What he needed was a fix. Just a little more heroin and all his woes would be gone. He searched his right jeans pocket and revealed four pennies. He needed a better lot in life, but few would give a teenage runaway a chance.

His sneezed onto the backside of his hand and folded his arms tight against his soaked torso. He looked up. The activities and lights of a gas station met his eyes. He was not sure how long he had been walking on the sparsely settled road, or which direction he had been going. He knew he could not tolerate the rain much longer. Perhaps they will let him inside the convenience store. If not, he could still dry out under the awning protecting the gas pumps. He worked his way to the fringe of the dry pavement and placed his hands in his pockets. His presence intimidated nearby customers despite his efforts to be invisible. He shook his coat overdramatically as if to display to his skeptics, “look I am just drying out.” He watched a dark blue Audi with tinted windows roll into the nearest pump. A large muscular passenger lumbered into the store, while a smaller weasel-like man worked the pump. The weasel man looked around cautiously while pumping, and sized Ryan up with disgust. He said something quietly into the car once the gassing was complete, and turned for the store.

Ryan paced. The need for heroin again tapped him on the shoulder, whispered in his ear, sent a thirst through his veins. He had never stolen anything that would not fit in the pocket of his baggy hoodie. He knew the plan was poor, but that Audi sure was sweet. It would certainly pay for his addiction, and then some. The door was ajar; the weasel man abandoned the keys on the driver seat. Ryan swallowed hard, and vibrantly ran for the Audi.

He plunged into the seat, shoved the key into its place, and vamoosed with a screeching of tires. The weasel and the bulkier man sprinted out of the store in time to witness his escape. The men revealed pistols, forcefully pulled an elderly man from his nearby Cadillac, and took to chase.

Ryan was immediately impressed with the hum of the engine, smoother than anything he had driven with his driver’s permit. The rear view mirror angled his sight to spot a lumpy green blanket spread across the leather back seat. Before he adjusted the mirror away, the blanket squirmed.

“What the…” Ryan reached backward and forced the blanket to the floor. Lying across the back seat, a small blonde girl bound and gagged stared fearfully back at him. She huffed and flailed with her arms helplessly tied behind her back.

“SHIT! OhmyGod… no f…”

BOOM. A gunshot took out the back window. Ryan swerved and resumed control of the car. He reached back to remove the gag from her mouth while staring ahead.

“Help me!”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Are you a bad guy too?” Ryan was unsure how to respond. He did not think grand theft auto qualified him as “the good guy.”


“Look girl I’ll take you home! I need to know your name so I can help you!”


“My name is Chloe! I want to go home!”

“Stay down! I’m gonna try to…”

BOOM POP HISSSSSSSS. Ryan gripped the steering wheel tighter upon the hissing sound of a deflating tire. He depressed the gas pedal with augmenting force, but the Audi soon felt as if it were riding over rocks. Ryan’s white knuckles turned away from the car’s leftward pull while Chloe screamed behind him. The Audi went into a whirl and the encroaching Cadillac pushed Ryan and Chloe into a ditch. Ryan looked up from the airbag, “Chloe, you ok?”

No response. Chloe was unconscious, but breathing. Ryan realized the danger of the situation and kicked the door open. Perhaps he could carry her; perhaps he could flee and report to the police. He jumped to his feet and was met with a firm grasp of his collar.

“You FUCKING LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! I’LL KILL YOU!” The shorter weasel man threw Ryan into the hood of the Audi. He shoved the pistol against Ryan’s neck. CLICK.

“No Carlos,” the giant man placed a hand on the weasel’s shoulder. He looked Ryan up and down and showed a smile that told Ryan death would be favorable, “He may be worth something. Tie him up. I’ll put Chloe in the Caddy.”

Carlos the weasel man gave a look of disgust Ryan had first seen him wearing, “You’re a sick man, Brick.” With the Audi set ablaze, the party of four departed in the borrowed Cadillac.