For The Fellas

Man...next time you ask a girl on a date, and she says something to the extent of "Yeah, when PIGS FLY!" Send her to my blog page! And show her this:Yeah...That's that.

Oh, P.S.: Rose Palms Motel pt. 3 coming soon!! Maybe like...Wednesday. Idk...I've been real particular about the characters in pt. 3 and what happens to our friends in 1 and 2. Bare with me, friends!

-B

Rose Palms Motel - Room 241

August 4th, 2008
Rose Palms Motel - Room 241
9:29pm



Russel and Miranda had just gotten married. The reception was terrible, there had been a fight between Miranda's father and Russie's uncle. She was mad at Russ on the way up to the motel for not having control over the fight. The only thing Russel could think to say was "Sorry babe, but Uncle Joey is crazy." That wasn't just it, though. Russel knew his uncle well. He knows that when Joey gets into a fight, he fights EVERYBODY! The people trying to break up the fight, the innocent bystanders, the preists, nuns--you name it! Russel didn't want to be apart of that. Not on his wedding day. It was good that he took Miranda by the hand and nearly dragged her across the parking lot to their orange 1921 Volvo and peeled off further into Jersey. This wasn't their honeymoon, no. Mr. Mitchell, Miranda's dad, paid for them to go to Hawaii. The motel was just a pit stop, though Miranda called it a pig stuy. She never saw the bright side of the situation. Here they were, in this lovely three star motel room, she in her wedding dress and he in his...tuxedo, and all she could do was complain when they first arrived. Well, doesn't matter anyways, she's ain't mad no mores. Not since I popped that Champie-Aiyn bottle cork! Russel's a smart guy, he really is.

Ten minutes later. A bunch of random wedding feathers and a few sips of alcohol and these two love birds were ready for the world. This was Russel's big night. He had waited ten years for Miranda and now it was finally going to happen. She almost had a look of defiance and evil as she took her abstinence ring off and hurled it across the room. Russel realized, after the fact, that the look on her face was seduction. Miranda wasn't too good at seduction. Still--they kissed. To them, their kisses were passionate. Full of love and...well, passion. But others found their kisses quite repulsive. Between Russel with his Swallow-Her-Face technique and Miranda with her Don't-Get-His-Tongue-Caught-In-Your-Braces method...honestly, these two were meant for each other. Russ slipped out of his light blue tux jacket and threw himself on the uncomfortable bed. It definitely looked more comfortable than it actually was. There was absolutely no bounce to it. You ever have that prank pulled on you, where someone removes a chair from right under you before you sit in it? Yeah, this was like someone pulled the bed from under Russ. Except he landed on rocks. His back ached, but he couldn't show it. He couldn't ruin the moment. Everything was going according to plan! Of course, until there was a knock at the door of the motel room next door.

It was loud and commanding. It startled Miranda who was having serious trouble getting out of her wedding dress. The heart that popped out like a 3D IMAX screen was holding the whole dress up. She couldn't figure out how to unstrap it. Her mother had done it for her this morning. She thought at the last second that maybe it might be sexy to have Russie undo it for her, but then she thought that it may turn into a disaster. She could just picture Russie hitting himself in the face trying to pull at the back fof the heart with all of his might, meanwhile tightening the strap around Miranda's torso. She shook the thought away with a frustrated sigh. She was concentrating real hard when the knock next door boomed her back into reality. "Open up, its the police!" She ran over to the brief case by the door and pulled out her gun. "Russie," Miranda panicked, "what are we gonna do?" Russel looked as his new wife with large eyes. "Honey, I thought we said no guns on the honey moon!" Russel complained. He stood up, more turned on than ever. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her hard. Miranda got so excited, she let off a bullet into the floor! "Uh oh..." The couple said at the same time. Now they were in some real trouble.

...TO BE CONTINUED!

Rose Palms Motel - Room 140

August 4th, 2008
Rose Palms Motel - Room 140
9:37pm

"Hey, keep it down, will ya's?" Big Tony said as he covered the phone so he could hear his mother clearly. She was going on about what an issue it was to cook for him and Robbie. Both of them were grown men, Tony in his early thirties, Robbie in his late twenties. She wasn't complaining, though. She liked having her boys around. She had heard a loud noise in the background, and she assumed her sons were beating someone up again. But she decided against bringing it up. Then she changed her mind. She didn't want to say anything to upset Tony and start him on one of his coughing fits, so she simply said "Make sure that one doesn't end up in the trunk of my car." Tony smiled a little. "Okay ma," he said, trying to hide the cigar smoke in his throat as he spoke. "What's that in ya voice? Are you smoking another cigar? Just like ya father--y'know you should really lose weight before you start all that smokin', Tony. I hope ya not gettin' Robbie in on that nonsense..." Ma went on for what felt like an eternity. Tony spaced like he always does when his mother starts on her rants. "...and turn that TV down! Between you and Robbie beatin' up that poor man and the Fox 5 news, I'm gonna have a heart attack! Let me go, I better see you two in twenty minutes or I feed the chicken pasta to the dogs."

Tony chuckled as he hung up. "That poor man" Ma had said. How did she even know that they were watching the news on channel 5? He looked to the TV. It was on Fox! But that wasn't what alarmed Tony, there was an image of the Rose Palms Motel in Patterson, New Jersey! Cops were surrounding the place, getting out of their cars with their guns drawn. "Hey Robbie," Tony stopped his brother from punching Joe in the face for the fifteenth time, "hold it for a sec. Look at the TV." Robbie reluctantly quit the punching, his knuckles were getting sore anyway. He looked at Joe before looking at the television. He had beaten him senseless. The plan was to beat WORDS out of Joe, not beat the conscious snot out of him! Robbie pictured his older brother yelling those words to him after Tony showed him whatever was important on the TV. Robbie's eyes widened, and before he could speak, they heard a loud knock and the all too familiar "Open up, its the police!"

But the knock wasn't on their door. No, it sounded like..."Robbie," Tony said quietly, he probably already knew what was going on. He was always the smarter one. It always took Robbie an hour to understand a situation, even after Tony explained it to him with all of his hand gestures...maybe that's what threw Robbie off all the time, the hand gestures. "The cops are here, but they're not here for us. We gotta move!" That's right, the knock was NOT on the door of room 140, it was on the door of the room upstairs! Robbie looked at the time. It was 9:45. He helped Tony pack everything, including Joe's money, and they casually left the motel room in hopes of getting into their car and driving home to Ma's chicken pasta. The boys quietly opened the door and peered outside. The cop cars all had their siren lights on, but they were silent and empty. "Now's our chance," said Tony. As they crept out, they heard a loud gun shot. The shot woke Joe out of the slumber that Robbie put him in with his fists. Joe saw the door wide open and seized the opportunity. "HELP!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. The brothers looked at each other and ran as fast as they could to their mother's 2007 BMW. After emptying everything in the back seat, they tried to get into the car, but a loud voice stopped them right in their tracks. "Stop right there!"

...TO BE CONTINUED!

Ah...$#!T.

Ah...$#!T.

Things like this happen to super heroes all the time, right?
Who am I kidding, huh? I can't even fly right!

I'm a sorry mistake for a hero. Last month, I mistook and old woman for a bank robber and beat the living crap out of her. I also eye lazered her arm off. She shouldn't have had an all black dress on and a scarf covering half of her face!...In retrospect, I probably should have been able to see that she had just been to a funeral. WHATEVER, man! I sent her some flowers so...we're good! All is forgiven. I even attached a note to them: Next time, don't dress like a terrorist.

I had to lay low after nearly killing that old hag. It didn't help that I'm one of those heroes who's identity is known by everyone in the city. I was all over the news, there were pictures of me in bars! Reporters would climb up to my one story apartment window and ask questions...absurd questions! "Is it true that you hate old women?" "Do you dislike America?" "Did you throw a 10 year old boy off of a roof and save him at the last second, just before he hit the ground, just for telling you that you weren't his hero anymore?"...Between you and me, that last one is true--but that fat little scrotum sucker deserved it!

Anywhom, here I am now, flying way too high for even my own liking, getting sucked into a plane propeller. This sucks. It sucks a little worse for the hooker I was carrying. I like--JUST dropped her! I was taking her on a date to the top of the World Trade Center, North Tower. Romantic, right? She swears its not there anymore, but what does she know? She's a hooker! Eh...We're both dead now anyway.

Wait, I'm a super hero! I'll probably live through this! Score one for Douche Dude!

The Future Black Man

He's the 3010 black man. Standing and staring at the door of his white Mercedes CLR. Coffee in his left hand, his suit's jacket draped over his left arm. He does this every morning. She sees him day dream about his life for 10 minutes before he's on his way to work. What's he thinking about so intently? He shouldn't look so depressed, he's one of the lucky ones. Sure, his credit's bad, his baby's mother just left him and he's not entirely sure if he's the father of his children. But he saw it coming! We re-live the lives of our ancestors. At least he's not going to find out if his kids really belong to him on some talk show. "Get to work, Mr. Johnson," She yells from her window. She gets a kick out of waking him up out of his stupor.

They speak for 2 minutes about the economy and all that adult stuff. Their boring conversation always turns into a dangerous flirting session. He's attractive. Its a shame her family didn't date outside of their race. Its a shame there's no freedom in this world. She could take him out of the misery he's in. She could bring a smile to his face for more than the five minutes they spend flirting every morning. They say their goodbyes. He waves and flashes that pearly white smile of his. She watches the car leave before she turns from her window to start getting ready to start her day. But not before reading his only bumper sticker: Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it...but is it possible to know too much of our history, to the point that it hinders our future?