How do fine folk?
It’s your boi… *tries to think of a witty rap name and fails*
Err moving on. So yeah erm did a story about a clown samurai, that’s a thing, it was fun to write but it’s essentially a cool kung fu movie you can’t literally see with your eyes so that’s that I guess haha. Gotta get those old noggins joggin’ my dudes. I still think it’s bette than the first witcher book because it at least has the thread of a narrative running through it.
I will continue to rag on the first witcher book despite how excellent I think it’s written ad probably the reason I am shitting on it out of pure jealousy haha. It’s really effortlessly well written, it’s irritating haha. But yeah I thought back to even the witcher game and I was thinking there isn’t really a story here either. I mean it’s basically like this book, a series of vignettes, little fun well written stories that ultimately go nowhere but in the game those stories are loosely knitted together with the bread crumbs left behind by Ciri. So it’s less of a story and more of a Mario princess hunt.
Not begrudging it at all, I loved that game, I plan on playing the others. I mean I played 3 the popular on now I’m gonna play 2 the less popular one haha. But videogame stories are basically just there to get you from point a to point b and to make you forget you’re playing a videogame which some do really well and sometimes the skill in games is getting the story out of the way to let the player make his own story and those are games I think have a better grasp of what a game is.
I kind of always wanted to write stories for videogames but then as I played more and more games I realised that story in videogames is really just a means and not an end in itself and really story unless it’s really really good like last of us or something just tends to get in the way and hinder gameplay more than it helps it. That’s why I find myself drawn to games with only peripheral or no stories whatsoever like FarCry2 and Elite Dangerous, where the fun is found in the gameplay and exploring and making your own stories.
Anyway, back to 3 ring, so I’ve almost finished the first part, probably would have finished it earlier if I wasn’t struck down for two days by the spiciest vindaloo I’ve ever eaten *conjures feelings of the acidic alien blood*. What I tried to do with the first part is to have some fun with it and introduce Pookie as a character and have a good solid set of action set pieces with interesting villains all the while subtly lacing in an overarching story and some of the world building without it being too hamfisted.
Literally trying to do what the witcher is doing essentially haha. I want to create a story like a tv show, where you have these interconnected stories in relation to the overarching plot that carries them forward. I think due to the structure I had planned I could have rewritten it and shortened it to a book or a couple of books but I think I’m too lazy for that and I’m better maybe trying something new and just having it as a series of episodic novelettes.
I think it turned out ok, maybe a little too tongue in cheek but the witcher’s style and mine are pretty different. It has some humor but very different from my own. I am enjoying it but it’s a slog as to is the game I’m currently reviewing which should make for some cathartic savagery for tomorrow haha.
So today, I’m gonna keep plugging away with the edits for Diana After Dark, maybe do a bit of spamming and this time next week I should be back on facebook and my next newsletter is scheduled for the first with more free copies of TOTCB flying out to all of my subs which surprisingly were quite a bit the last couple of weeks.
Not much else is up except I’m watching the new season of Bosch trying to get my detective story juices flowing for Diana 2. I want to start that next but I really need to psych myself for that I think.
Anyway, enough time wasted.
See you…
~
Darkness, and then an eye opens, I open my eyes and heâs there.
âCome on &&^%^$(*()*&
I wanna show you somethingâ
A little boy with a bowl cut hairstyle is leading me down a tight white hallway.
Thereâs a door, he wants me to go through.
Whatâs on the other side?
The door is huge I can barely reach the handle, itâs turning red, the door, itâs melting. Whatâs in there?
âA surprise
I did it for youâ
Shapes start to appear in the red goo the door is turning into. A face is pushing through the malleable door.
Itâs my face, itâs a mirror.
A sudden jolting and my face hits something hard and flat and Iâm thrust back into the land of the living rather unceremoniously.
My head hurts, Iâm still seeing spots, but thatâs all I see, thereâs something over my eyes. I can almost feel all the veins in my neck, my brain feels like someone slam dunked it through a stained glass window.
I can feel something wet and warm on my face, getting colder, shit, blood, it has to be blood. âIâm bleedingâ I cry out to the dark to no one in particular.
âRelaxâ A womanâs voice says âItâs just drool- you can wipe it off when we get thereâ
âGet where?â I ask stupidly.
âProm, of courseâ Wendy said.
I try to move but my hands are strapped with ties to something at my side and I canât move them. But I can feel the car plaining over wet roads, feel it turning, stopping, weâre moving.
âDonât move, donât be dumbâ Her voice was tight, stern with a bitter frosty bite. âDonât bother screaming, weâll just crank the radio up, the windows are tinted no one can see us in here.â She said with a cool commanding calm in her voice.
âWendy, whatâs going on?â
She laughed and said âWhatâs going on? Weâre going to prom, didnât I just say that?â The car slowly ground to a halt and I heard the driver get out of the car. âJust gotta make a little stop along the wayâ
âWendy I-â
âI should have known it was you. My mom warned me about you, youâve always been jealous of me- how did you know?â I heard the jewellery on her arm jangling as she talked no doubt gesturing to someone blindfolded. âI bet you felt really fucking clever sending me those little notes- how clever do you feel now huh?â
The passenger side door to my left opened and something big and heavy was slung at my side.
âDonât make a fucking noise puto, donât make me shoot you!â A manâs voice said.
The door shut again and the large sack of potatoes started to writhe and make groaning grunting noises in the seat next to me.
âWhat the fuck Denny, I told you not to hurt him, heâs fucking bleedingâ
âI had to hit him with the gun, big white boy wouldnât come on his own, thought he was a tough guyâ
âNow Iâm gonna have to clean him up, you better not have got blood on his tux.â She screeched.
âWhat the hellâs going on? Is this- a prank? â Itâs not very funnyâ The potato sack said in between pained groans.
âPaul!- Is that you?â
âDiana? â are you?â He said groggily.
âJust stay coolâ I said.
âWhat the hell Di?â He groaned.
âWhatâs going on is Iâm not going to let you white trash pieces of shit ruin my senior prom.â Her voice got fast and high pitch. âAlready close to ruined it having it in that fucking lazer arcade. I wanted it at the beach club, but noooo that wasnât cool enough for little miss âooh look at me Iâm so quirky and interestingâ!â She made a clucking sound in her throat trying to get more spit in her mouth. âMe being the great friend I am let it slide, but no you gotta stab me in the back and try to ruin itâ
âWendy?â Paul said. âWhatâs she talking about, whatâs going?â
âWould you just shut up you fucking meat head daddyâs boy retard.â She took a deep breath and filled herself with sweetness and light and said. âWeâre gonna be there soon and weâre all gonna dance and have a great time and then me and Brody are going to be crowned prom king and queen and then-â
âThen what?â I said.
She laughed and I could feel her shifting closer to me, the leather creaking under her toned brown buns. She took the sleep mask off my face and put a small gun to my head, my small James Bond-type gun to be precise. She looked over at Paul and squeezed her thin drawn on eyebrows as tight as they would go. âOh for fucks sake.â She tutted as she pulled out a tissue from her purse and spat in it rubbing furiously at the small nick at the side of Paulâs head where Denny had hit him.
She stepped back after she was done to get a good look at him. âThere, you look greatâ She sat back in her seat in the front of the limo with the small purse pistol trained on us. Wendy was in a gold taffeta dress looking like a real princess. Paul was in the tux my aunt picked out for him tied to one of the arm rests with a plastic tie the same as I was. He was slowly, fading in and out of consciousness like he took a hit of Nyquil and whiskey.
The interior of the limo was huge. The ceiling was much higher than you would expect and coming in at a cool five three I was almost certain I could comfortably stand up in there. It was almost as a standard bus. It was wide with black leather couches on all sides and a large bar-like table with cushioned corners all the way around stretching out the length of the interior. To top it off there were blue strobe lights around the ceiling making it look almost like a mini travelling strip club. It was missing the stripper pole though. No fog machine either.
I looked down and I was wearing one of Wendyâs hand me down dresses she wore to the homecoming dance last year. The insult to injury received. Pretty in pink my ass.
âYou two make such a cute coupleâ She smirked. She turned and tapped the glass between the passenger compartment and the drivers cab and said âDenny youâre driving like an old lady, are we there yet?â
âCouple more minutesâ He shouted back âYou know, weâve got some timeâ He said, his voice taking on an odd tone.
Wendy turned a redder shade of gold and said âNot here dummyâ She turned back to look at me, her eyes becoming sharp slits, making a sucking sound with her gums. âYou think youâve got it all figured out donâtchoo?â Her valley girl accent slipped a little, letting a little Cubano slide in. âI took a look through your littl kit, some sick shit in there, you got the letters, you were really gonna do me like that, after all Iâve done for you?â
She sighed and her and relaxed her muscles with the gun hanging languidly in her lap as she laid back in her seat spreading her legs. âWhat was the plan? Gonna blackmail me after I made you?â I had a feeling somebody made me but not her and not here. âNo one in that school would even know who you were if it wasnât for me. Youâd just be a nobody.â Thatâs what she didnât get, thatâs what she could never get, I wanted to fade into the background, I didnât ask to be popular, I wanted to be a nobody, I just wanted to fit in. âYou wouldnât have him for sure.â We both looked over at Paul as he dozed, very still slumped in the corner of the limo. âShit I might have to cover the cut with some make up or something.â She tutted and looked back at me with half lidded almond eyes âNow youâre gonna lose it allâ
She thought I just wanted to black mail her, that was a step up I guess from what I was actually planning. âYouâre gonna kill us?â I said dim as ever.
âYou see another way out of this, you promise not to come after me or squeal on me?â She laughed. âThe funny thing is I probably would have just given you money if you asked.â She smiled sadly âWhat are friends for right?â She gritted her and made her eyebrows angular again pointing the gun at me âYou think Iâd let you ruin my prom? Weâre going and youâre going to behave, because if you donât Iâll put a bullet in both of you. Dump your bodies in a snow drift in aspen then Iâll pay a visit to your Aunt.â She looked left then right out the window like she was trying to see her reflection. âI mean you could have told her anything.â
âNo- she doesnât-â Something bubbling up, something new. A whole world created and then destroyed. My aunt, my sister, she built a life for us and now as her reward sheâd get a bullet in the head from her sisterâs best friend. Bedded in an unmarked grave because I was too smart to just be normal.
âYou read the letters, you think you know the truth, shit my mom doesnât even know, theyâve got her so doped up she probably thinks she did kill the old man. She probably wanted to.â
âWhy did you-?â
âDo you actually care?â She looked at me with her head tilted, the gun at an angle like she was trying to see under a veil. âYou donât give a shit, just trying to buy yourself timeâ She sucked her gums.
âYou know I hate awkward silencesâ I said.
She smiled. âI should kill you right here next to your boyfriend, but then I wouldnât get to see your face when Iâm crowned prom queen.â
âWhat about Brodie, when he sees this-â
She picked up her phone and looked at it âHe already texted me, heâs meeting us there, had some family shit, ergh, like I care.â She said throwing the phone down on the leather couch.
âYouâve got your brotherâ
âTh-fuck that sâposed to mean?â She rattled the gun in her hand as the accent slipped again. âYou have no idea what itâs like being the little rich spic in Orange County, surrounded by all these rich white people peopleâ.
I rolled my eyes âIâm sure it was a nightmare.â
âShut the fuck, what do you know? Denny was the only one who understood and it almost destroyed him. My dad found out and he was gonna send Denny away to a reform school, I couldnât let that happen, I couldnât live without him.â
âStop, youâll make my mascara runâ I slipped a canine tooth out as I smiled, trying to break the ice.
She laughed and let out a little tear which she cauterized with her finger to stop her make up running. âLook in the mirror baby, nobodyâs making dent in that shitâ She chortled.
What did that mean. I looked in the reflection of the passenger window and saw a dim reflection of what looked like a Mexican clown but I knew unreservedly was me. âOh goddamit, spray tan, really?â
âBetter than your pale ass goth shit.â She said cocking her head. âBaby I made you look good.â
âYou made me look like a clown whore, did you apply this with a shotgun?â
âWeâre almost thereâ Denny called through the little PA system in the limo.
âShow timeâ She said smiling. She reached over me and cut the ties with a little fruit knife from the mini bar. I looked down at the gun and then up at her and over at Paul. âDonât even think about it.â She spat.
She moved back, her head bowed for the lip of the door and signalled with the gun for me to get out. Denny got out the driverâs side and went around the side of the car to cut Paul free. I got out the car and stretched my legs. It was night again, Iâd been out all day, she probably fed me Xanax to keep me pliable so she could dress me and do my makeup. My whole body felt and sore stiff like I was living doll rented out by a submarine full of sweaty otakus.
âWake up pretty boyâ. Denny was a tall lean Hispanic man dressed in a loosely fitting limo driver uniform with the top two buttons undone. I can see why she liked him, he was pretty much a male version of her, I wonder if they used the same eyebrow pencil. A chiselled jaw on a swarthy face and even darker hair and pencil thin moustache. He slapped Paul who was roused enough to indignantly stand, faltering a little before erecting to his full height of around six one.
âRemember my brother will be watching, so donât try any clever shit or heâll be paying your Aunt a little visit, got it?â She put the gun in her golden D&G purse and clipped it shut. âI still have this so if you fuck this up, all bets are off girlfriend.â
âGot itâ I felt like a wrung out tube sock, I wanted to drop to my knees and just die right there. I slept but it was an unrestful semi-death like Iâd been hung out to dry.
I looked up at the big black open empty sky, no moon, no light, just a blanket of dark sky lit up with the orange pollution of every damn light in the state.
We were in the parking lot of the lazertag place. I couldnât tell the time, Wendy had taken any such devices used for such things away from me, which is understandable. But I assumed she would be fashionably late to her own funeral. Parking lot was littered with limos and rented sports cars. I then idly glanced back in my stupor at the vehicle we had arrived in seeing it for the first time from the outside. It was none other than a white stretch hummer. Classy.
âSubtleâ
âI knew youâd like itâ She said.
The front of the lazer arcade was a lit up like a movie theatre like it was some grand screening at Mans Chinese. Bright spots and strobes inside. A big stone awning with the Fuzion lazer tag sign on the front. Iâd never actually been, it just kinda looked cool from the outside, driving past it with my Aunt/Sister. And I knew it would kind of piss off Wendy. I drilled into her the fact she chose the venue for the home coming dance, which was a golf club. I mean come on, how preppy is that? Plus it had the floor space and the lights and the food. The whole place was rented, no kids, did I mention I hate kids? I thought Iâd get a kick out of watching all the people that pretended to be normal all day long chasing after eachother with toy guns, their hearts filled with playful virtual murder. But of course they werenât actually pretending, like me.
I heard itâd been closed for a while. Some kid died here and they shut the whole thing down but with a little cutting of red tape it was under new management and back in business. Nothing stops the wheels of commerce in Orange County, not the living nor the dead. We passed the threshold which was carpeted like a theatre lobby, as in it was sticky, almost more gum than fabric. There were a few arcade machines and unmissable signs everywhere warning of impending epileptic fits.
As soon as I stepped foot inside I knew I picked the right place. The smell of popcorn and nachos the sound of shoes clipping and squeaking on linoleum floors. The pleasant cool darkness like the inside of a movie theatre. It was all black lights this and neon that, like the inside of Joel Schumacherâs sex dungeon. Obviously being on the prom committee meant Iâd been in here before but all the times before it was in the day time with all the lights on. Tonight it was a completely different animal, just like me.
âMoveâ Wendy said through her teeth, poking me in the back with her DG purse. Those things are pointy.
She marched us past rows of foosball machines. People I barely recognised from school throwing the little balls in the holes in full prom regalia. Something about playing whack a mole in a prom dress made this whole thing seem worth it.
But I could tell Wendy hated it by the indignant sneer. âSo fucking tackyâ she mouthed as she watched Francine Hammond from my English lit class mount a ridge racer bike. No side saddle? Very unladylike.
Denny waited in the car, he was a few years older. He dropped out of high school to do little more than couch surf and sample a wide selection of drugs and likely crack house diseases so he wasnât invited.
We reached the entrance to the main staging area. âRemember donât fuck this up and I just might let you walk out of here- be cool.â She took out her hello kitty phone and pointed it at me. âIf I donât text Denny every half hour heâll pay your Aunt a visit, got it?â She gesticulated a little more as if I mightâve forgotten what a phone looked like or maybe she thought her hello kitty phone case was intimidating. After she was done issuing threats she turned her phone over to read the screen. She opened her pursed lips and tutted. âBrodieâs running a littleâ She sighed as she started to text him back. âHeâs gonna meet us in the main hall, come on.â
The main staging area was a large open bar and restaurant with a balcony hanging over it. Of course all the restaurant chairs and tables had been moved to sides to make way for a dance floor. Which was located under the balcony from which the prom king and queen would be announced.
The room with the main lights off was completely different. This time it literally looked like a set piece from a nineties batman movie. The one that Arnie hammed up. Strobe lights, and spotlights darted from corner to corner over a neon jungle. Complete with glowing tropical plants and monkeys hanging from pillars painted with neon paint to look like Florida palms. One almost seemed to be winking at me offering me a glowing banana.
No thanks.
I smirked because I knew on some level this had to disgust Wendy, it was tacky and kitschy and smelled like corn syrup and old beer. Cool and dark, not bright and sparkly like she dreamed. This was my world.
She turned to us both, her face agape with a wonderful disgust and then without flinching it turned into the most sugary sweet smile. I had to duck to avoid diabetic shock âHave fun you two- and remember, Iâm always watching.â She said waving like a duchess.
She turned with a dramatic wafting of her poofy dress like the wicked witch of the west. Disappearing into the crowd of faceless seniors accumulating around a large ornate punch bowl, an ice sculpture in the shape of a horseâs head above it âgo Trojansâ, I whispered.
âWhat?â Paul said
I jumped almost forgetting he was here. âOh nothingâ.
âSo what the hell is going on?â He whispered harshly taking me roughly by the upper arms as if he intended to shake the information out of me.
âWhat does it look like?â I ask as innocently as possible breaking away from his grip. Keeping my expression one of open optimism ready to mould myself to whatever situation he thought this was.
âErr well it looks like we just got kidnapped and taken to the prom by your best friend.â He said as he touched the nick on his head where he was struck.
âYeah- I guess.â I said ditzily.
âSo- what the hell are we gonna do about it?â He pouted.
âI dunno, call batman- I mean by the looks of this place heâs probably gonna be here for like a charity auction or something.â
âYou think this is funny? Weâre literally hostages.â He said turning to scowl at me, as if that would help.
âThanks for noticing, wanna dance?-â
He furrowed his brow in response.
âWhat? She told us at gunpoint we need to have fun, so-â Just as I said it the now iconic Simple minds â Donât you forget about me, came on, thanks breakfast club. Yeah I know American pie already did this, how derivative.
There was already a sizeable crowd of seniors slow dancing to eighties synth wave. I dragged him into the middle of them and forced his hands around my waist and brought him close, resting my head on his shoulder rather mechanically.
âDiana, what are we doing?â He whispered into my ear.
âIf weâre dancing she canât see weâre talking and she canât shoot through a crowd of peopleâ.
âSo?â
âSo what?â I hissed.
âDo you have a plan?â He asked.
âI thought youâd have oneâ
âWhy me?â
âYouâre like- I dunno- an army guy, sorta.â
âMy dad is in the army that doesnât mean I know how to escape a hostage situationâ
âWell it was worth a shotâ I said sinking into the nook of his shoulder. It really did smell kind of nice. Comforting, like sandalwood or something, must have been his after shave.
âWe need to find a way to signal to someoneâ He whispered.
I stirred from a moment of dozing on his shoulder. âShe said if she didnât text her brother every half hour he was going to kill my Aunt, we need to find a way to deal with Denny first.â I said brushing away a little drool and make up gunk from his shoulder.
âHow? Sheâs not gonna let us leave the main hall.â
âWeâll wait until they crown the prom king and queen, she wonât be able to do anything and sheâll be too distracted with the lights to see usâ I said.
âAnd then what?â
âWe take out Dennyâ
âTake him out?â He said as we swayed.
âYeah you know, punch him, knock him out, you can do that right?â I said yawning on his shoulder.
âYeah- I guess, I mean yeah I can do that.â He was still a little groggy but my Paul was coming back hopefully bringing with him a little piss and vinegar. Youâd think some help from a certain dark entity might be invaluable but this certainly wasnât his scene, far too- neon and crowded. Tacky sure, but fun, there was no moon in here, no dark chorus, no flapping of devil or angel wings. My monster was a wall flower it seemed. Much happier in some dark corner licking dew off the neck off a virgin victim than cutting up a rug surrounded by chirpy yuppies. Maybe heâd show up fashionably late too, the night was still young after all.
We danced for a little longer waiting for them to announce the prom king and queen. Give us the distraction we needed to launch our âPlanâ if you can call it that. It wasnât really much of a plan. Just wait til the backs are turned and punch someone in the face but this wasnât exactly a spy novel. And I really didnât need my Aunt/Sister to be butchered by some junkie sheâd never met, that really would be tacky.
âHey, Iâm gonna get some punch, you want some?â I asked.
âSure, just donât go too far ok, I canât see her. We have to assume sheâs watching us.â
I sauntered over to the punch bowl trying not to trip over all the tassels and frilly things hanging off this ridiculous princess dress. I felt like some silly doll that was supposed to be sitting on a shelf or having a tea party with a stuffed bear not dancing and dodging bullets.
Some time had passed and the crowd around the punchbowl had dissipated and the puddle of punch had shrunk too. It was only about an inch deep of a cool looking pink liquid slowly getting room temperature under the spots.
Thatâs when I noticed the bowl full of cheese poofs and my stomach reminded me quite loudly that Iâd been in a drug induced coma for about twelve hours and hadnât eaten so much as a handful of lint lying on the floor of Wendyâs closet. So naturally like some half starved half crazy red squirrel (thatâs the bad one right) I started grabbing literal handful of the disgusting puff balls. Filling my cheeks with the articial cheese flavoured corn starch balls of goodness. Caring not for the orange dust accumulating on my face and hands giving a sigh of relief when my stomach felt less inside out than it did a moment ago. Although lacking any actual nutritious content, theyâd filled a hole and would have to do for now.
It was still pretty dark in the room so no one noticed me almost sticking my head in cheese poof bowl like a horse with a feed. I quickly used way too many napkins removing the orange dust from, well everywhere.
Why did I come over here again? Oh yeah punch.
As I said it was still pretty dark which made ladling the sweet smelling non-alcoholic liquid into the stereotypical red plastic cups much harder than it should have been. Nevertheless this slight challenge was nothing compared to my intellect and superb hand eye co-ordination. I almost patted myself on the back for pouring punch into a cup, itâs the small victories that count. I picked up the cups and was about to make my way triumphantly back to Paul when I noticed something. Something dark and oddly shaped at the bottom of the punch bowl hitting a bum note in the dark orchestra. The darkness giving me a little jab in the side to remind me it was still there waiting for its moment to bask in the spotlight. Better late than never.
Would he really pull the same trick twice? I thought as I put the cups down.
I picked up the ladle and did a quick one eighty to see if anyone was watching. But at that point everyone was either dancing or eating little wieners or starring into their cups thinking of something to talk about. I dipped the ladle in fishing for whatever the little surprise at the bottom of the punchbowl was, in the back of my head wondering where the little wieners had come from.
I moved it around, it was a large square piece of paper soaking up the punch. A moment of fumbling with the sticky sheet of paper and a happy spot light fell on me and it was lit up for a brief few seconds. Revealing what was a dark black and white photocopy of something that was a little too dark and wet to see. Further fishing bringing it closer to the surface got a reaction, a smirk, a happy sharp tooth glinting in the dark depths. I pulled it out of the sweet waters and let it drain and drip on the bottom of my faerie princes dress.
No doubt about it, it was a face, a face I recognised despite the fact it was smooshed into a copier. The likeness was uncanny, it was Ruez, what was left of him. I wasnât dreaming, that was a Photostat of his head that had been polluting the punch for god knows how long and there was only one person who could have put it there.
The person who removed had his head of course. Now if I were still toying with the silly notion that that certain someone was me it would be a hell of a trick to have to keep that photocopy on me. Waiting for this moment only for it not to be found when I was stripped and dressed by Wendy. And then of course there was the task of taking a severed head to a copier which I didnât own. So that meant going to a library which would go something like; âOh hey Diana, what brings you hereâ â âOh you know just gotta photocopy a severed of a gangbanger I may or may not have murdered. But itâs ok he liked to kill hookers, allegedlyâ. The idea alone got a chuckle from the dark backseat. It was a joke, a prank, one that only we would see the funny side of.
He/she/it was here, my plus one was sending me a message but what did it mean? âYou forgot thisâ, âHeads upâ?

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