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Insanely Inane Thoughts

If fate doesn't make you laugh, you just don't get the joke.

Batting For Paradise

Thursday, August 25, 2005
"Are you ready?" asked Leo as he stowed away the baseball bat into his bag. His eyes, which were startlingly blue and flecked with green, remained hidden under the cap. It is often said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and with Leo, it was quite true. Which is why I was so afraid of looking into his eyes right now. Moments before, a complete stranger had stared back at me through those very same eyes and I don't know whether it was the strangeness that I saw or the sameness that I felt that had scared me the most. But this was not the time to think.

It was the time to act and send a message.

I gulped down my doubts and put on the same mask that Leo had on him.

"Are you ready?" Leo asked again as he trained his eyes on me. His voice, although gentle, echoed with violent intent.

I picked up the bat and held it loosely. I closed my eyes and almost immediately, the images cornered my rationale. The dense smoke and the teary soul, the mangled steel and the splatter of blood, the smell of death and the stench of fear, the need for solace and a vent for anger, the quiet of the scarred and the shouts of the ravaged. They coaxed and cajoled me, angered and threatened me and appealed and begged to me before fading away into the same dark, recess that had offered them sanctuary.

There is still a way to be good, reason said. But I kicked Goodness in its balls and winked the Devil in her eye.

My fingers tightened around the bat as I opened my eyes. I looked towards Leo and nodded.

I was ready.

~*~*~*~*~*~

We entered the convenience store hoping to buy satisfaction. It was a tiny establishment conjoined to a larger gas pump. The hour was late and there was nobody but the owner in the store. Soft music was permeating through the store and it was a tune I had heard before but I couldn't place it immediately.

"Ahh! My final customers for the night," he beamed through his beard. I forgot all about the tune and simply stared at him.

"So, what will it be, kids?" he asked, continuing to clear out the store for the night. I looked at Leo; he had the same look on his face. On receiving no reply, the owner looked back at us. "Are you kids interested in buying anything at all?"

I couldn't pry my eyes away from his turban, so I continued staring at him.

"Alright, stop wasting my time and get out of my-" the owner started but he stopped short of completing his sentence. He was staring at Leo with a scared expression on his face. His lips twitched under the beard while his eyes narrowed with what I took to be fear. A congregation of sweat ran through his forehead from under the silken headgear.

I shifted my gaze towards Leo to find him wielding the weathered bat with a crazed smile on his face.

"Look here, kids. If it's money you want, I'll hand it over to you. I want no trouble," said the owner, trying to put up a brave front as his eyes met mine beseechingly.

"Remember what happened a few days back?" asked a strange voice I had never heard. The words were laced with hate and anger and I was slightly surprised to know that I had so much bitterness inside of me.

He quavered as if all life from the inside of him were being drained. "I had nothing to do with it," he pleaded, falling on his knees and folding his palms as if asking for forgiveness.

We had none to give.

Leo adjusted his cap and cocked his bat as if waiting for a pitch.

"I have a family," whispered the owner with his eyes closed, almost in prayer.

"So did my father, Bin Laden!" hissed Leo as he swung his bat. The bat caught him by the edge of his temple, though his turban seemed to have cushioned most of the blow. I winced at the blow because the song wood on flesh created was most unsettling. It had a single crescendo, which was then followed by a symphony of silence. It was over before it had started and the only audience it had was greed.

It always left you wanting for more.

The owner fell onto the cold floor as a dark stain seeped over it. Encore, his moans beckoned. At least, that’s how I heard it.

"Strike one," shouted Leo, laughing derisively. He had heard it too.

"Please. I'm not even Arab," moaned the Sikh, curling up into a natal position. He tried shielding his face by burying it into his arms.

"You lyin' sonofabitch," I yelled, bringing down the willow over the curved spine. A loud crack echoed through the store and then the Sikh groaned in pain. I stood dazed over his body, which was twitching almost theatrically. The enormous effort I had put into the blow still reverberated in my arms. This was the first time I had struck a person with my bat and instead of feeling remorseful, a surge of elation rushed through my body.

Vindication.

Strike Two.

I looked back at the Sikh and saw a puddle of blood forming by his mouth as he tried to breath in vain. Leo swung his bat for a final time, striking the base of his neck.

Waheguru!” moaned the Sikh, convulsing briefly before drowning on his own blood.

"Strike three and you're out!" sneered Leo, his eyes flashing with rage. His nostrils were flared and his lips were curled up in cruel amusement. He caught me looking at him and smiled. I tried smiling back before realizing that I was already smiling over what we had just done.

After all, justice had been served, right? Our country has been under seige for long now and it's about time we showed these runts who the boss was. We have to fight for the pride of our country. Not doing so would simply cheapen this Paradise.

Our Paradise.

Leo took out the spray paint canister and graffitied the words "No More Arab Gas" and "Sand Diggers Die" over the walls of the store. I collected the bats and pushed them into Leo's backpack. They were stained with blood so in all probability, we would have to stash it somewhere. I was zipping up the backpack as Leo cleaned up the cash register.

“Let’s go,” I urged Leo, who was busy stuffing his pockets with cash. Robbing hadn't been on our agenda but Leo was at it anyways.

After all, what was a little money compared to a life?

Leo smiled and nodded. I still wasn’t comfortable staring into his eyes so I stared at the bloodied body instead. It was eerily reassuring. As we headed towards the exit, the music wafted back into my ears.

Oh, think twice, it’s another day for
You and me in paradise


I whistled the tune as we got into the car and started towards home. I turned back to look at the store where I had bartered reason for madness. My eyes fell on my hands, which had been stained with blood a few minutes back. I shuddered and wiped my hand against my trouser. It still felt wet and sticky.

Just the way I seemed to like it.

It looked like Paradise had a cost of its own.

Bedtime

Thursday, August 18, 2005
“I’m scared, Mommy.”
“Of what, sweety?”
“ There are things beyond my close-“
“Not that again, honey.”
“But I saw them!”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream?”
“Yes, Mommy. I heard noises from the closet like always. I was scared but I opened the door-”
“You’re such a brave boy! Let’s tuck you in again.”
“But I’m still scared, Mommy. I saw faces in the closet and I think there might be-“
“For the last time, sweety, there are no such things as humans. Now be a good boy and sleep."

Note: Posts will be a little sporadic from now on.

Going Bust

Saturday, August 13, 2005
I could see her looking at me from the corner of her eyes. I pretended not to notice and continued munching on the cake. The cake was laced with cream and a spattering of chocolate covered the sweet pastry base. It tasted even more delicious than it looked. I can bet that the doctor wouldn't be pleased with the cholesterol count or me. Which made the slice even more ravishing.

I spotted an old friend of mine and decided to have a chat with him that was long overdue. I had to weave through a crowd of babbling anorexic girls, all of whom smiled at me. I smiled back at them and they burst into giggles. I half wanted to tell them to try the cake but thought better of it. Better I eat the cake than the toilet bowl.

I saw her again before I ran into my friend. This time she was looking straight at me and smiling. I smiled back. She had nice eyes and a lovely bust. Before I could take in the finer details, the rather large frame of my friend filled my vision.

"Alain, how have you been?" asked Matthew, attempting to juggle the food supply of Somalia on his small plate and shake my hand simultaneously.

"Life's been nice to me, Matty. And I can see that it has been generous with you too," I said, patting his pork belly. He laughed loudly. I had to wipe away most of the food he had in his mouth from my face.

"You haven't changed a bit, Matty."

"Neither have you, you sanctimonious prick." He laughed again.

"Are you still pissed with me because I slept with your wife the night before your wedding or do you derive some kind of perverse pleasure from drowning me in your spittle, Matty?"

Matty started to say something but the meatball he had been relishing on got stuck in his throat. His face turned a strange purple while his eyes strained from their sockets. My job here was done.

“Tell Faye I said ‘Hello’, Matty,” I concluded before I walked away from him.

I passed many girls on my way and all of them seemed to be enjoying the party. They smiled at me again and I smiled back. They laughed. It seemed like the norm of the night.

I was at the wine counter when I saw her for the third time for the night. Actually, I saw her staring at me for the third time for the night. But this time, she wasn’t alone. She had a friend with her who was doing the exact, same thing. I didn’t mind it much as she had an attractive bust as well.

Well, well. Finally, the girls are appreciating my true worth.

I smiled at the two of them and they, like the others, burst out laughing. I contemplated on whether I’ll be able to convince the two of them into a Ménage a Troi, the two of them held a discussion of their own. After much debate, the one who had been eyeing me all night approached me by the wine counter.

I could make out that she had a dazzling set of turquoise eyes, which complemented her shoulder-length auburn hair very nicely.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hullo,” I replied.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she remarked demurely.

“Say it with love,” I told her with a smile. She laughed. Yup, the old charm was still there.

“I’ve been following you all night-“

“I noticed.”

“And I don’t think anybody has told you this yet…”

“Go on.”

“But I thought it would be nothing but polite of me to let you know that you have been walking around sporting a dollop of whipped cream on your nose for most of the party.”

The Better Life

Sunday, August 07, 2005
Reyes flicked the butt into the night watching the glowing trail disappear into a puddle of water. He checked on his watch and swore under his breath as the cold trickle of rain seeped down his neck. The awning under which he stood offered scant protection from particularly persistent drizzle.

Where the fuck is he, wondered Reyes. He was sure that he had seen the same street in his vision and his visions were rarely wrong.

He leant back against the wall wishing that the wind would switch directions so that there would be more cover from the rain. He stared blankly into the cool mist of rain as he probed through the recesses of his memory.

"Give me yer money," the man had hissed before flashing the trusted blade at the startled gent. The mugger's eyes glinted maliciously but his face was tinted with desperation. He needed no more trouble and hoped that he would be third time lucky. The other two he had knifed earlier in the day had very little money but they had paid for their resistance. His knife would vouch for that.

"Hold on, buddy. You are wasting your time here because I've very little on me," the victim had said.

"I'll be the judge ah that. So jus' shut up an' empty your pockets."

"Alright, alright. Keep your knife off me and I'll do as you say," the man had said as he emptied his pockets slowly. The mugger looked on intently as the raindrops beat against their frames gently. The victim's watch flashed briefly before the mugger’s eye and...


Reyes had been able to make out the date and time on the watch before the scene went blurry. But he knew that unless he intervened, the man would be dead. He knew this because there had been others who had died right then when he had chosen not to act.

For some, his gift was their curse. But it did let him lead the better life

But the time didn't add up, pondered Reyes. He was sure that the watch had read "20:15" and it was 8:30 already. His throat ached for a warm drink while his balls froze in the rain.

"This better be worth the wait," he muttered, impatience tempering his mood.

It was then that he heard the pitter patter of hurried feet through the pool of water. He squinted through the rain and spotted the dead man. He isn't dead yet, he reminded himself and smiled.

As Reyes followed his footsteps, he could make out the shadowy built of the mugger waiting by the alley. The mugger stopped his quarry and flashed his blade at the man.

It's time to act, Reyes decided.

He rushed towards the alley and screamed, "Freeze, Police!" This usually worked with muggers and small time crooks and it worked this time as well. The mugger panicked and slashed at the man before disappearing into the darkness. Reyes caught up with man and asked him if he was alright.

"I'm fine," he said, clutching his right arm, which had a superficial cut. "Shouldn't you be rushing after him?" asked the man as he gestured towards the blind alley.

"I would be if I were the Police," said Reyes, a little sheepishly. He looked towards the alley and then realized that it had stopped raining.

"You aren't the Police?" queried the bewildered man.

"Not really."

"That was awfully brave of you then," he said, a little awestruck.

"I guess it was," said Reyes with a weak grin.

"You saved my life!" the man exclaimed as he moved in closer towards Reyes.

"You're not going to kiss me, are you?" Reyes asked, a little uncomfortably as he took a step backwards.

"Don't worry, mate. I'm not one of those queer fellows," he said with a guffaw. "So, how can I possibly repay you?" asked the man as they walked away from the scene.

"You could offer me a drink," Reyes suggested. His throat was parched.

"A drink? That's all you want? A drink! If I can't offer my guardian angel a drink, I'll be damned," said the man, shaking his head as he walked away from the scene.

"Where do y-" started the man but Reyes cut him off before he could finish the question. Reyes's fangs dug down deep into the man's neck, who never saw it coming. Reyes lapped up the warm fluid greedily as the man thrashed about wildly. Having drunk to his fill, he let the almost lifeless body fall down onto the damp street. He was about to leave when his eyes fell on the watch, which still read 20:15. Reyes shook his head and smiled.

"Thanks for the drink, buddy. Besides, you were living on borrowed time anyways," whispered Reyes as he left the man to die.

Sticky Wicket

Friday, August 05, 2005
"Who do you think took it?"

"It could be anyone."

"That isn't very helpful, you know."

"It could be you."

"You have a point but I didn't take it."

"Neither did I."

"Alright, that rules out the two of us. Who else do you think was interested in the condom?"

"Dad?"

"He must have been because we sort of stole it from him but it-"

"I think it would be better if you put it as "borrowed" it."

"I can imagine his face when you say, "Here's the condom we borrowed, Dad!" "

"What do you mean by "I say"? You're the elder one so-"

"By six minutes!"

"Nevermind that.What will we tell Dad?"

"We borrowed it for sometime; it's like borrowing a pen for school"

"We didn't use it though."

"That would please Dad even more. We'd be returning the borrowed goods almost as good as new."

"But how would we explain the tear on the pack?"

"We could tell him that we ran out of glue..."

"I don't think he'd buy it but even if he did, how will we explain the bite marks on it?"

"I don't think he'd notice it."

"If he doesn't before using it, we'd certainly notice it sooner rather than later on Mom."

"Maybe we should tell him the truth."

"That we told Bradley it was a new type of fruit-flavored chewing gum?"

"Let's skip the "we told Bradley" bit."

"Alright. But he did seem to enjoy it before I had to pinch his tits to get him open his mouth."

"If I were you, I'd stay away from him for that. I think he enjoyed that as well."

"Right now, he is the least of our worries. Think about the rubber!"

"Yeah, we should be thinking outside the box."

"Quit kidding around, Jake. This is serious!"

"I know; if I had the rubber, there would be no reason to kid around. Get it? Kid around..."

"Ohhh brother..."

"Yeah?"

"Wha-? Just shut up and think."

"It could be merv the Perv, you know?"

"Hmm... you could be right. He was stretching it and mutterting "too small" and "must investigate" the whole time..."

"Ewww, do you think he could have ... you know, tried it on?"

"We'll have to get it back to know for certain."

"Why don't we just buy a new pack for Dad?"

"Won't he get suspicious to find ten instead of one?"

"I don't think he' be complaining too much about it..."

"Mom might."

"Shut up, Jake."

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