Hey, guys! It's been pretty quiet around here. Sorry that I, personally, haven't been very active as of late. I've been tackling some personal issues and have just been far too busy lately. I won't go into specifics as many of these issues are very personal and until I can account for all of them I will probably be gone. I'm so sorry for this impromptu leave of absence, and I can't really give an estimate of my return and I am so sorry.Read more >
An invitation from Derby was never because he had the best intentions. Derby himself was never the kind to be inclusive, or even open. It always broke Malcolm's heart to see new, refined blood join their little group, only to mess up and be kicked to the curb and forgotten. Once you were out, you were officially out. Derby never made it a clear rule but everyone knew that speaking their names was to bring ruination on ones self.
Malcolm didn't agree with Derby's little power play, hell he even resented the big man for it. He knew acting against Derby would be one long tumble after another, and soon you'd just end up forgotten, and alone like all those nobodies that found themselves thrown out onto the front lawn along with everything they o…Read more >
The last look at the outside world before the doors slammed shut were bittersweet for Michael. The dark gritty corridors of the Insane Asylum stretched out before him. He knew he wasn't crazy, no matter what they told him about his mental state he knew that there wasn't a flat chance in hell that he was insane. Even though he wasn't convinced it didn't matter.
An empty, dark cell was the final place he found himself in. He thought about how he wished he could sit in silence, and think about the shitty situation he found himself in, and how he thought he could talk his way out of it, but as the sharp screams from the inmate in the cell next to him carried on for an endless set of hours he thought that sooner or later he'd be in that position…Read more >
September 1st, New Coventry Junkyard, 8:38 AM
"Can we go home?" Clayton Stone sighed. "Seriously what the fuck are we doing here, man?"
"Dude, I need money for the gift I'm going to get Bradi." Michael opened up the rusted door to an old rusted Cadillac. "It's our one year anniversary next week and I haven't got anything to get her yet."
"Okay, so why are we in a junkyard?" Clayton crossed his burly arms.
"Because Ricky told me you could make bank on car parts." He began to rummage through the front row of the car and held up a couple of silver bolts. "How much you think these could sell for?"
"Do you even know anything about a car?" Clayton asked. "And no those won't sell for shit.
"I know they go vroom vroom." Michael shrugged, tossing the bol…Read more >
We gathered under the blue canopy to escape the coming rainfall. I hated the rain, though coming from North Yankton I saw it as a preferable alternative to nine months of continuous snowfall. The others didn’t see it that way.
“This sucks dick.” Michael complained. “Can’t believe I have to be here.”
“Why are you here again?” I asked, eyebrows perked up.
“I gave that Tad dork a wedgie.” He replied. He had to crouch down as he was far too tall to fit under the canopy standing upright. “So now I have to help out for this shitty cross country meet.”
The runners passed us by, careening onto the dirt pathway and up the growth by incline. Bullworth’s own star runner, Neil Faxon, was currently in the lead though another competitor was soon following h…Read more >