Helix Nebula
Three fries short of a happy meal: WHACKO!!
A man, wearing a torn gray suit wakes up in the back of a turned over van, that is lying on the side of a dirt road- covered in rust and leaves. The man swears, as he struggles to stand up, realizing there is a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. He looks around the rusting shell of a van, noticing a dusty trilby on the wall of the van, which now serves as the floor. The man crouches and picks up the hat and puts it on, slightly slanting it sideways. “God dammit.” He says, stepping outside of the van, onto the sun-baked dirt road as a warm summer breeze, blows past him- Rustling the leaves of the nearby forest. The man turns around and sees an old billboard, with a painting of a smiling family on it, underneath a text that reads; “Welcome to Muldraugh! Knox County, Tennessee - Home of the Muldraugh Mannequins.” Short a ways past the sign, is the silhouette of a highway and a city. The man sighs, as he starts walking towards the highway, humming a calm, swinging tune...
“Larry Dice. That’s what I call myself. Now, you may be wondering what a guy in a fine suit like me, is doing in the middle of some backwater hick-town, somewhere in Tennessee. My only answer to that is; Good fuckin’ question. Last thing I remember, is getting drunk and losing all of my cash at cards in Vegas. See, I was born in Sacramento, a real city boy I was. Rich daddy, a caring mother - There was nothing I lacked, when I was a kid. Then my daddy left me and my mother for some hooker from Reno, my mother had to start dealing drugs to make ends meet, and I ended up a street thug. Now, don’t get me wrong- It’s a real glamorous job, once you get the hang of it. All the money, chicks and power a guy could ask for. Of course, then you lose the money on booze, the chicks leave ‘cause you ain’t got no money and without dough, you’ve got no power. Most guys end up gambling or drinking themselves to death, in some shithole of a casino- But not me. No, not Larry Dice. I fixed myself up real nice, got me a job, a house and a gorgeous wife. I was living the dream, you know? A couple of hundred in my pocket, some more in a safe and a dream woman in my arms. Well, turns out life fuckin’ sucks; I lost my job to some prick with a bad haircut, my wife to my boss and my house to my wife. Correction, ex-wife. So, I ended up taking all of my savings and leaving town. I headed east, to the fine city of Vegas in the middle of the most boring fuckin’ desert, I’ve ever seen. So there I was, in Vegas, sitting around a black jack table with a drink in one hand, and a winning pair of cards in the other. Then some guy flips out a pair of aces right onto the ones already on the table, and.. Well. Here I am. I guess I hit the bottle so hard after that, I volunteered to be abducted and left cuffed in the back of some fuckin' van, in the middle of nowhere. Just my luck.”
The man stops humming as he gazes at the highway now right in front of him. The road leading to the crumbling ruins of a city, is filled with a long line of broken, rusting old cars. Another breeze blows through, as the man slowly starts to make his way through the automobile-graveyard, that this once bustling highway has turned into. "Yeah.." He huffs, "Just my luck." Half-way through, he suddenly stops as the man's eyes lock onto one of the cars. There is a rustling noise, and the blue car shakes a little. The man carefully approaches, crouching just so he can see through the windows - Before he can make anything out through the dust and filth covered car windows, however, the front door slams open- Knocking the man backwards, onto the ground. "That.. hurt.." He mumbles, seeing a pair of legs now standing in front of him. "Who the fuck are you, man?" An aggravated, unknown male voice says. "Dice. Larry Dice." There is a clicking sound, as the angered gentleman points a rusted revolver at Larry's head. "Oh yeah? And the fuck you want, Larry?" Larry coughs as he sits up, "Well, 'to live', comes to mind." Slowly he stands up, now seeing clearly the man in front of him. A 20ish old man, in a worn off trench coat, a dirty t-shirt, a pair of broken jeans, leather boots and with the messiest hair Larry's ever seen- Stood before him. "Are you with B?" The man asks, as Larry crouches to pick up his hat. "Do I look like I'm with "bee"?" He puts his hat back on, slanting it sideways. "I've been abducted, robbed and I've got a pair of metal bracelets I didn't buy, stuck on my wrists." Larry looks at the man, "Do you really think I want trouble?" There is a silence, and after a moment the man lowers his hand, pushing the revolver into a holster on his belt. "Good. My guns' empty anyways." The man now reaches out his right hand, "Mick's the name.. Morris Ave Mick." Despite his handcuffs, Larry shakes Mick's hand. "Alright, Mick.. Though, what kind of a name is that?" Mick smiles, "My mamma wasn't the brightest sort, so she named me after the street we was living on, when I was a kid." Larry nodded and glanced at the ruins of Muldraugh, "You from around here, Mick? I could use a.. uh.. tour guide." Mick shook his head, "Nah, I was born n' raised in a cozy little town quite a ways, south from here. I moved here a couple of months ago. Not that I live in this here car, I just hid in it 'cause I thought you was one of B's men." Larry nodded again, "Wouldn't happen to have a lockpick or something?" He said, rattling his handcuffs. "It'd be just lovely to get these off." Mick grasped the cuffs' chain, hemming. "Never was much of a locksmith, but I bet a pair of pliers would cut through these right quick." Larry grinned, "Splendid, you wouldn't happen to own a pair?" Shaking his head, Mick chuckles. "My house is right at the end of this highway. I've got a toolbox there, so I'm sure I could help you out." Larry sighed and nodded. As the two started making their way past the broken down cars and motorbikes, Larry began humming..
"♫ ...I've got the world on a string - Sitting on a rainbow.... ♪"
Just a little something I wrote and decided to post here.. Like or don't- Comment, criticize, it's the first time I've written anything.. "extensive" like this in English, so pardon any grammar errors or typos or such. Might continue it some fine day; Right now though - Sleep.
“Larry Dice. That’s what I call myself. Now, you may be wondering what a guy in a fine suit like me, is doing in the middle of some backwater hick-town, somewhere in Tennessee. My only answer to that is; Good fuckin’ question. Last thing I remember, is getting drunk and losing all of my cash at cards in Vegas. See, I was born in Sacramento, a real city boy I was. Rich daddy, a caring mother - There was nothing I lacked, when I was a kid. Then my daddy left me and my mother for some hooker from Reno, my mother had to start dealing drugs to make ends meet, and I ended up a street thug. Now, don’t get me wrong- It’s a real glamorous job, once you get the hang of it. All the money, chicks and power a guy could ask for. Of course, then you lose the money on booze, the chicks leave ‘cause you ain’t got no money and without dough, you’ve got no power. Most guys end up gambling or drinking themselves to death, in some shithole of a casino- But not me. No, not Larry Dice. I fixed myself up real nice, got me a job, a house and a gorgeous wife. I was living the dream, you know? A couple of hundred in my pocket, some more in a safe and a dream woman in my arms. Well, turns out life fuckin’ sucks; I lost my job to some prick with a bad haircut, my wife to my boss and my house to my wife. Correction, ex-wife. So, I ended up taking all of my savings and leaving town. I headed east, to the fine city of Vegas in the middle of the most boring fuckin’ desert, I’ve ever seen. So there I was, in Vegas, sitting around a black jack table with a drink in one hand, and a winning pair of cards in the other. Then some guy flips out a pair of aces right onto the ones already on the table, and.. Well. Here I am. I guess I hit the bottle so hard after that, I volunteered to be abducted and left cuffed in the back of some fuckin' van, in the middle of nowhere. Just my luck.”
The man stops humming as he gazes at the highway now right in front of him. The road leading to the crumbling ruins of a city, is filled with a long line of broken, rusting old cars. Another breeze blows through, as the man slowly starts to make his way through the automobile-graveyard, that this once bustling highway has turned into. "Yeah.." He huffs, "Just my luck." Half-way through, he suddenly stops as the man's eyes lock onto one of the cars. There is a rustling noise, and the blue car shakes a little. The man carefully approaches, crouching just so he can see through the windows - Before he can make anything out through the dust and filth covered car windows, however, the front door slams open- Knocking the man backwards, onto the ground. "That.. hurt.." He mumbles, seeing a pair of legs now standing in front of him. "Who the fuck are you, man?" An aggravated, unknown male voice says. "Dice. Larry Dice." There is a clicking sound, as the angered gentleman points a rusted revolver at Larry's head. "Oh yeah? And the fuck you want, Larry?" Larry coughs as he sits up, "Well, 'to live', comes to mind." Slowly he stands up, now seeing clearly the man in front of him. A 20ish old man, in a worn off trench coat, a dirty t-shirt, a pair of broken jeans, leather boots and with the messiest hair Larry's ever seen- Stood before him. "Are you with B?" The man asks, as Larry crouches to pick up his hat. "Do I look like I'm with "bee"?" He puts his hat back on, slanting it sideways. "I've been abducted, robbed and I've got a pair of metal bracelets I didn't buy, stuck on my wrists." Larry looks at the man, "Do you really think I want trouble?" There is a silence, and after a moment the man lowers his hand, pushing the revolver into a holster on his belt. "Good. My guns' empty anyways." The man now reaches out his right hand, "Mick's the name.. Morris Ave Mick." Despite his handcuffs, Larry shakes Mick's hand. "Alright, Mick.. Though, what kind of a name is that?" Mick smiles, "My mamma wasn't the brightest sort, so she named me after the street we was living on, when I was a kid." Larry nodded and glanced at the ruins of Muldraugh, "You from around here, Mick? I could use a.. uh.. tour guide." Mick shook his head, "Nah, I was born n' raised in a cozy little town quite a ways, south from here. I moved here a couple of months ago. Not that I live in this here car, I just hid in it 'cause I thought you was one of B's men." Larry nodded again, "Wouldn't happen to have a lockpick or something?" He said, rattling his handcuffs. "It'd be just lovely to get these off." Mick grasped the cuffs' chain, hemming. "Never was much of a locksmith, but I bet a pair of pliers would cut through these right quick." Larry grinned, "Splendid, you wouldn't happen to own a pair?" Shaking his head, Mick chuckles. "My house is right at the end of this highway. I've got a toolbox there, so I'm sure I could help you out." Larry sighed and nodded. As the two started making their way past the broken down cars and motorbikes, Larry began humming..
"♫ ...I've got the world on a string - Sitting on a rainbow.... ♪"
Just a little something I wrote and decided to post here.. Like or don't- Comment, criticize, it's the first time I've written anything.. "extensive" like this in English, so pardon any grammar errors or typos or such. Might continue it some fine day; Right now though - Sleep.
