Conniving Souls

I found a missing flash drive, and on that flash drive were the next three and a half scenes of Conniving Souls.  Enjoy.

Scene 11

Chuck walks into a pub.  He sits at the bar.  The bartender comes up to him.

BARTENDER: What can I get ya?

CHUCK: I’ll have a rum-and-Coke on the rocks; hold the rum, and no ice.

BARTENDER: Comin’ right up.

The bartender pours a can of Coke into a glass and sets it down in front of Chuck.

CHUCK: Thanks.  I need some of the hard stuff tonight.  (He empties the glass and grimaces as if it were a shot of whiskey.)  Hoo-ee!  Keep ‘em comin’!

As the bartender pours Chuck another Coke, Connie enters the tavern and sits down at a table on the other side of the room where she can watch Chuck.

CHUCK: Are you married?

BARTENDER: Nope.

CHUCK: Lucky guy.  Women are nothing but trouble.

Connie perks up, hoping Chuck is on the verge of saying something damning.

BARTENDER: Trouble at home?

CHUCK: I haven’t slept in the same room as my wife in a month.  She’s always mad at me, and I don’t know why.

BARTENDER: Maybe she’s mad that you aren’t sleeping in the same room as she is.

Connie sits back and listens.

Two hours later.

Chuck is still drinking his Cokes.  The bartender has moved on to serve other patrons, and Chuck is just drinking and watching TV.

CONNIE: (under her breath) This is getting nowhere.  If he were meeting someone, she’d be here by now.

Connie stands up.  She takes off her hoody, revealing a nice shirt, flattering to her figure without being skanky.  She approaches the bar and sits down next to Chuck.

CONNIE: Is this seat taken?

CHUCK: No.  Be my guest.

The bartender comes over.

BARTENDER: What can I get you?

CONNIE: Do you have any carrots?

BARTENDER: Carrots?

CONNIE: Yes.

BARTENDER: Yeah.  We serve them with chicken wings.  I’ll go in the back and grab you a plate.  You want any ranch dip with them?

CONNIE: No, thanks.  Just the carrots.

Bartender exits.

CONNIE: What’s your name?

CHUCK: Chuck Stanton.  You?

CONNIE: Connie Stellation.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chuck.

CHUCK: You, too.

They shake hands.

CONNIE: Are you here alone?

CHUCK: Yeah.  I’m on my own tonight.  Again.

CONNIE: You aren’t waiting for anyone?

CHUCK: No.  Who would I be waiting for?

CONNIE: Oh, I don’t know.  A girlfriend, maybe.

CHUCK: I don’t have a girlfriend.

CONNIE: No?  A nice looking man like you?

CHUCK: I’m married.

CONNIE: Where’s your wife this evening?

Chuck shrugs.

CHUCK: We had a fight, and she ran out.  She’s probably staying with a friend.

CONNIE: I’m sorry.

CHUCK: Don’t worry about it.  What about you?  What are you up to this evening?

Bartender returns and sets a plate of carrots in front of Connie.  She picks one up and takes a bite.

CONNIE: I’m not really up to anything.  I was just in the neighborhood, and I got a carrot craving.  (She takes another bite.)

CHUCK: We all have our vices.  (Holds up his glass of Coke to illustrate his vice.)  At least I’m not a smoker.

Pause.

CONNIE: You seem like a nice guy, Chuck.

CHUCK: Thanks.

Scene 12

Cylash knocks on Crane’s door.  He answers it.

CYLASH: (seductively) Hi, baby.

CRANE: Hey, love-bucket.

They embrace, closing the door behind them.

CYLASH: I brought us something to get us in the mood.

CRANE: (excited) Oh yeah?

Cylash holds up some comic books with sexy female super heroes on them.

CRANE: (not excited anymore) Oh.


Scene 13

Connie and Chuck at the bar.  They’re laughing.

CHUCK: And the next thing I know, I’m the CEO.  Tobacco disgusts me!

They laugh again.

CONNIE: (checks her watch) It’s late.  I should get going.  It’s been fun, though.

CHUCK: Yeah, it has.  Thanks for cheering me up.

CONNIE: (standing up) Do you come here often?

CHUCK: Say, aren’t you supposed to use pick-up lines to start the conversation?

CONNIE: Of course, how silly of me.  I guess I had one too many carrots.

CHUCK: As a matter of fact, yes, I do come here often.

CONNIE: Will you be here tomorrow?

CHUCK: Only if my wife storms out on me again.  So, yes, I will be here tomorrow.

CONNIE: I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

Connie leaves.  Chuck watches her go.  At first he’s smiling, but the smile fades.

CHUCK: Oh, crap.  Did I just make a date?

BARTENDER: Sorta.  Not really, though.

CHUCK: I’m a married man!  I can’t date other women!

BARTENDER: So don’t show up tomorrow.

CHUCK: You aren’t much of a businessman, are you?

BARTENDER: Hey, I don’t own the place.  I just work here.

Scene 14

The next day.  Crane and Cylash are sitting across from Connie at Connie’s office.

CONNIE: Good morning, Mrs. Saltlickington-Stanton.

CYLASH: Good morning.  This is my lover, Dr. Crane Sextopoulos.

CRANE: Hello.

Connie is a little stunned.  After a brief pause, she shakes her head and goes on.

CONNIE: What can I do for you this morning?

CRANE: We’re here to see how your investigation is going.

CONNIE: Well, my investigation isn’t even 24 hours old, so I haven’t exhausted all leads yet.

CYLASH: So you have nothing at all?

CONNIE: I watched him closely last night.  He didn’t have sex with anyone.  I have his phone tapped, too, and he hasn’t been in contact with any strange women.  In fact, he didn’t make or receive any phone calls last night.

CRANE: Listen, Ms. Stellation, we’re paying you…

CYLASH: I’m paying her.

CRANE: Cylash is paying you good money to catch this man in his wickedness, and you’re telling me that you’ve failed?

CONNIE: I just took the case yesterday afternoon.  These things can take time.

CRANE: Time and our money.

CYLASH: My money.

CRANE: Cylash’s money.

Lawrence L'Amour

I found a scribbler in the glove compartment of my car from my days working in the motel industry.  It was full of gems, some that I had been wondering where they'd gotten to, some that I had completely forgotten about.  One of the forgotten ones was this amazing story:

"Who's that loser?"

"Who?  Jimmy?"

"No, that guys."  Carlos pointed at a tall, overweight man dressed in a red toga and wearing a tattered heart-shaped foam hat twice the size of his considerable head.

"Oh, him," Janice said.  "He calls himself Lawrence L'Amour.  He's harmless."

Lawrence pranced across the street and pulled Carlos and Janice into a flabby embrace that smelled like pizza and roses.

"I am love!" Lawrence announced in a grotesque falsetto.  He slapped felt hearts onto their chests.  "Young love blooms again!"  He turned and tip-toed down the sidewalk.

Carlos took the heart off of his chest and dropped it in the gutter.  "Anyway," he said.  "I'll see you later, sis.  Tell Mom I'll be home for supper."

Lawrence saw two young men talking on a corner.  He fluttered towards them and enfolded them in his arms.  "Fear not, young fancy lads," he twittered.  "Love knows no boundaries!  You don't need the government to acknowledge your love as legitimate!"

"Dude," one of the young men said.  "Are you calling us queer?"

"I have special hearts for you!"  Lawrence bestowed rainbow-coloured hearts on the boys and twirled away.  A chihuahua crossed his path, and he scooped it up, holding it high.

"Happy Valentine's Day, little puppy-dog!" he crooned.  "I wuv you!  Yes I do!"  He kissed the dog's nose and danced down the street.

"Put some clothes on, you hippy!" an old man called from a bus stop.  His wife sat beside him.

Lawrence pressed his hands together above his heart as he gazed upon the elderly couple.  "Squeee!" he squeed.  "True love conquers all and lasts until the end of life!  Tell me, ancient one, how long have -- OOF!"

Lawrence L'Amour doubled over as the meaty fist drove into his gut.  His hat fell to the curb and was stomped on by a dirty worn work boot.

"Shut yer wang hole!" the newcomer said.

Lawrence shrieked at the sight of his ruined hat.  "My Chapeau De L'Amour!" he screamed.  He looked up and saw the scarred, bristly face of his adversary.

"I'm sicka you and everting youse stands fer," Raging Randolph said.  He pulled out a pistol and shot Lawrence L'Amour in the throat.

And that's the story of the first Valentine's Day.



I friggin' love this story.  I laughed out loud at the last sentence both when I originally wrote it and when I reread it last night.

Le Chapeau De L'Amour is, of course, a blatant rip-off of Bob The Angry Flower.

 (Image taken from Bob The Angry Flower)

You Only THINK it's Been Three Weeks!

I know what you're thinking.  "Hyper," you're thinking, "why have you gone nearly three weeks without updating your blog?  And how is it that you're reading my mind."  The answer should be obvious, even to your feeble 21st century minds.  If you're at all familiar with my history -- and, being a follower of my blog, you should be -- you'll know that I have a time machine.  The day after reviewing Mike Mix 2010, I traveled back to medieval times to lead the noble Asul Army against the dreaded nation of Pula.  I was, of course, victorious, having been taught in the ways of traditional warfare by Sir Headolence.

This image is a screenshot from my time machine's monitor as I hovered above the army giving commands and occasionally sending down a blast of laser fire.

"But!" you're self-satisfiedly thinking now.  "Why didn't you just come back to the time immediately after you left for the past so as not to let your blog fall into inactivity!"  Again, the answer is simple: Space and Time Assassin Ninjas, or SATANs.  They were going to attack me during the last couple of weeks, so I came back after they were dead.  See, once a SATAN is fully trained, he or she only lives for two weeks.  The cyborg body can only take so much anti-matter in the blood before imploding.

So that's why it has been nearly three weeks since my last blog post.