Firis
Amateur Human
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2008
- Messages
- 5,709
- Reaction score
- 351
- Points
- 335
- Age
- 30
A odd and mediocre poem + a short story
A bewildered man drenched with sweat made his bubbling arse across the set, a horrible pick; a drunken St. Nick for a childrens movie: "December Ice Can Be Slick"
Uwe Boll has nothing else these days, cheap booze and heartache his bad business pays.
Line up, roll camera aaaaaaaaaaand "Cut" says he "Well done and great work and good job too thee, but where is George Lopez we NEED him in scene 3!"
George Lopez staggers in; looking mauled like a bear, depressed his career is going nowhere,
adorns his Elf hat and he and the Elves grab three Christmas Horns.
Uwe directs: "Action!" he spews, 'Action to drunk fest scene one/night two.'
(I wrote that at 3 AM)
He watched out his window; his father would be home soon, home from the 'Great War' (Though he didn't think it too great)
He watched the snow fall graceflly and slow, iciles forming on tree branches, the beauty of the 'Hesterfon' countryside,
he couldn't wait for his father too come home, he also couldn't wait for Santa, just two more days and his imagination would be captured by that mysterious man, two more days until presents under the pine tree; decorated with ribbons and colored glass, presents in his stockings above the fireplace, where he spent so many nights reading letters from his dad, the stone of it slightly charred and ever so smooth.
His mind was whipped back too the present: "Charlie?!" his mother called "Charlie come here!" he commanded, walking from the spaciious and decorated living room and into the narrow and industrious kitchen.
"Charlie, your a grown boy now, twelve is a good age to start pulling your load around the house."
"But mom!"
"No 'buts' young man, do what I tell you too."
"Why?"
"Escuse me?"
"I mean why are we so busy latety?"
"Because your father will be home soon, and he should come home to a clean house."
She paused to see if he would retort, Charlie didn't dare, "Take these downstairs and clean them." she said as she dumped old clothes into his hands, he sighed and made his way downstairs, he didn't like the basement, it was always dimly lit, dusty and just overall creepy.
Charlie placed the clothes on the ground before a tub and a washboard, he fileld the tub with water from the pump and began washing the clothes, thats when it happened... "Chaaaaarliee..." he stiffened his neck, and his eyes widened, that certainly spooked him as it wasn't his mother, it was a raspy yet high pitch voice whispering into his ear...
"Chaaaarliee..." it set upon him again, this time he jumped and grabbed a fire prod, frightened and wet he made his way towards the stairs.
Then he saw a ghostly visage: Etheral but still rotting, red eyed and disturbed, he coudln't bear to look at it more it spoke too him in that odd voice, almost sung "Chaaaaarliee..."
"What.. .What do you want?" he yelped, shaking and crying, already nearly running too the stairs. Before he heard an answer he ran up the stairs and itno the living room, huddled in a corner... Huddled in a corner he remained for nearly a minute before the reply came, still inside his mind and the visage apparantly gone... "You..."
(Again 3 AM, it is 3:30 AM now so I am writing part two in just a sec... That was a segment of the dream that just woke me up, part two is unrelated... Comment?)
EDIT: Oh Flapjacks! The last half of the dream escaped me, all I can remember is it was about aliens and a girl named Jessica... If you want I can make up an ending to that nightmare if you want?
A bewildered man drenched with sweat made his bubbling arse across the set, a horrible pick; a drunken St. Nick for a childrens movie: "December Ice Can Be Slick"
Uwe Boll has nothing else these days, cheap booze and heartache his bad business pays.
Line up, roll camera aaaaaaaaaaand "Cut" says he "Well done and great work and good job too thee, but where is George Lopez we NEED him in scene 3!"
George Lopez staggers in; looking mauled like a bear, depressed his career is going nowhere,
adorns his Elf hat and he and the Elves grab three Christmas Horns.
Uwe directs: "Action!" he spews, 'Action to drunk fest scene one/night two.'
(I wrote that at 3 AM)
He watched out his window; his father would be home soon, home from the 'Great War' (Though he didn't think it too great)
He watched the snow fall graceflly and slow, iciles forming on tree branches, the beauty of the 'Hesterfon' countryside,
he couldn't wait for his father too come home, he also couldn't wait for Santa, just two more days and his imagination would be captured by that mysterious man, two more days until presents under the pine tree; decorated with ribbons and colored glass, presents in his stockings above the fireplace, where he spent so many nights reading letters from his dad, the stone of it slightly charred and ever so smooth.
His mind was whipped back too the present: "Charlie?!" his mother called "Charlie come here!" he commanded, walking from the spaciious and decorated living room and into the narrow and industrious kitchen.
"Charlie, your a grown boy now, twelve is a good age to start pulling your load around the house."
"But mom!"
"No 'buts' young man, do what I tell you too."
"Why?"
"Escuse me?"
"I mean why are we so busy latety?"
"Because your father will be home soon, and he should come home to a clean house."
She paused to see if he would retort, Charlie didn't dare, "Take these downstairs and clean them." she said as she dumped old clothes into his hands, he sighed and made his way downstairs, he didn't like the basement, it was always dimly lit, dusty and just overall creepy.
Charlie placed the clothes on the ground before a tub and a washboard, he fileld the tub with water from the pump and began washing the clothes, thats when it happened... "Chaaaaarliee..." he stiffened his neck, and his eyes widened, that certainly spooked him as it wasn't his mother, it was a raspy yet high pitch voice whispering into his ear...
"Chaaaarliee..." it set upon him again, this time he jumped and grabbed a fire prod, frightened and wet he made his way towards the stairs.
Then he saw a ghostly visage: Etheral but still rotting, red eyed and disturbed, he coudln't bear to look at it more it spoke too him in that odd voice, almost sung "Chaaaaarliee..."
"What.. .What do you want?" he yelped, shaking and crying, already nearly running too the stairs. Before he heard an answer he ran up the stairs and itno the living room, huddled in a corner... Huddled in a corner he remained for nearly a minute before the reply came, still inside his mind and the visage apparantly gone... "You..."
(Again 3 AM, it is 3:30 AM now so I am writing part two in just a sec... That was a segment of the dream that just woke me up, part two is unrelated... Comment?)
EDIT: Oh Flapjacks! The last half of the dream escaped me, all I can remember is it was about aliens and a girl named Jessica... If you want I can make up an ending to that nightmare if you want?
