Extension Work

[Jintor]

This may or may not be the beginnings of my short story for Extension 2 English next year.

I'll keep you posted.

I suppose I should start from the beginning, because that's where, as a rule, most things start.

It was winter. A cold winter, I remember thinking at the time; just that sort of weather where you can go and check your thermometer, think 'Oh, a comfortable temperature, I may now proceed outside', do so, and freeze to death before you make it to your car. By which I mean the wind chill factor was bloody terrible. Cold enough to freeze your piss before it reached the si- fine, fine, I'll get on with it.

Now, the person I'm about to describe is a bugger you wouldn't like to meet on a cold night, in a dark alleyway, and I know this 'cos I did meet him on a cold night in a dark alleyway and he nearly beat seven kinds of crap out of me. Bloody moron, that's who he was. Another bloody lout in a trenchcoat. Name of Joseph Greene, leastwise that's what he called himself.

This Greene character, right, he's a bit of a dickweed. He's rabble, he's been doing strictly small-scale stuff for the last, five, ten years. Smuggling, yahooing around with ladies of questionable repute, little bit of illegal gambling. But he ain't never threatened nobody with anything. Till one night. One night, this little Joseph, all nice and smily and harmless, beats the crap out of some lady with an iron bar 'cos she wouldn't 'walk' with 'im. She doesn't get up. She never gets up. I was at her funeral. She never got up.

Now the cops pull Joseph in for questioning, right? They're still working things through all legal-like, all nice and clean, and it's obvious to everybody they're going to grab him, cuff him, and stick 'im in the hole to rot for, oh, a decade and a half. Two decades, maybe. So he's being moved from the cop shop to a truck, right, to take him to the nice and secure prison, when he just - he just moves, grabs a gun from the rookie next to him, sticks it in the officer's stomach, and blows him away. Next minute, everyone's in shock, someone screams, people running away - and Greene's gone.

Our boys in blue don't find him. They dragnet the whole city and don't find him. He's gone to ground, gone away, whatever. And though he's on the news every night, as the police 'ramp up their attempts to find the murderer', he's gradually forgotten. Well, Mr Greene don't like to be forgotten. He's got the power now, he's felt someone's life ebb away from what he's done. He's got the taste of death in his system now, and he wants more. So what do you think he does? Greene waits. He waits and he waits, till the shit has stopped stirring and the bubbles ain't gettin' to the top no more. Then one day, the lead cop on his case, well, he goes home to find his pretty wife ain't so pretty no more.

So then the shit really hits the fan. Crackdown on the whole city, crime scene goes wham. Everyone's out for a bit of Mr Greene's head, including some of his old mates, of course the coppers, and then the government goes and gets itself involved.

And then something really strange happened...

 

[Sloth]

Really good stuff - I'll talk to you on MSN about it...

 

[Jintor]

I have no idea where I was going with this anymore, but I like it.

 

[Sulkdodds]

I think the narrator's skazz maybe gets a little waring at points, and there is perhaps too much effort to tell it in this clever-clever I'm-telling-a-story way. But I lol'd at this line: "I was at her funeral. She never got up."

 

[Jintor]

Skazz?