Ok, Ch. 3 is done. Have to Edit it.
yaaaaaay!
Chapter Three
“That’s right!” The voice screamed out, or belted. It seemed to sing, but yell at the same time. Either way, it was a powerful force.
“But…you…are….”
“Dead? I know. But what I bet you didn’t know is that I am the Devil…”
“…The Devil?”
“…’s advocate. And unlike that ill-acting twink, I go around trying to help lost souls, such as yourself. Poor, unfortunate souls in perdition. I try to straighten out your path on the road of life.”
“But how, why are you in…Hell?” Scri was not sure how to ask this question. She was not sure to whom she was asking it. Or even what she was asking.”
“Well, you think my vocal power is natural? No. I sold my soul to the Devil long ago. A nice bargain, I may add. I get the voice, and in the end, I have a spot reserved in the fiery depths of Hell. Life is good. We have the best tanning salons. But, never mind that yet. We must talk about why I am….sweetie babe, don’t look so surprised! Many people have sold out to the Devil.
“Really?” She began to keep her nerves under control. It must be a dream. All of this: The Merm, the two shady men, the umbrella, the red vile. She must have fallen asleep after her Big Mac. Meat had that affect on her.
“Yes. I mean, how do you think the Yankees do so well (except for last year, when the Devil was taken ill. What a mess!)? Anyway, George Steinbrenner sold out years ago.”
“Those damn Yankees.”
“Speaking of which, so did Gwennie. But she went back on her deal very early on.”
“And what happened.”
“Well, she did get her fame but also a boa feather in her throat. But never mind any of this. I am here for you and to help only you. You are weak and need guidance. You are in love with a man who doesn’t know it. You would ask him to coffee if you could. But you can’t. But I am going to give you a proposition. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours.”
“What do I have to do? What do I get?”
“You get him. You get Espascal. You become his number one Scalion. All the fame and glory bestowed upon you. You will gain talent to sing, dance, and act. Even at the same time! In years to come people will say Kristin Cheno-who?”
“And what do I have to do?”
“Ah, yes. You’d have to perform only a small token to show your appreciation really – a trifle, sweet as a mere dessert truffle.”
“Yes, but what!?” She began to grow impatient. Impatient, scared, and nervous.
“Bring down the Unnamed Producer. He has been the only one in years to trick the Devil out of a contract. And the Devil adheres to deals, despite what anyone may say.”
“But, if he’s the dev….”
“She….Her names Lola. And what Lola wants, Lola gets and Lola wants you to bring down the Unnamed Producer.”
“But if…Lola….” She stuttered awkwardly, “is so powerful, couldn’t She just find the Unnamed Producer herself.”
“Unfortunately, no. They never actually met. I mean, I told her not to trust any cyber deals, you can’t trust people online - but she threw a fireball at me and said to bugger off. Now, to help you on your way, you will be given a very special power. The power of the Flail.”
“The Flail?”
“The Flail!” The Merm belted out loud enough for the sumo wrestlers in Japan to hear.
This was all very confusing to Scri. It would be confusing to anyone, she imagined.
“The Flail is the most deadly of powers. You will feel it when you need it. If you choose to accept Lola’s proposition, drink your red vile. If not, dispose of it down the sink and forget what you saw here tonight.”
With a lightening burst and a loud scream, or sustained note (again, Scri was unsure), the Merm disappeared into darkness. The streets began moving again. The sound was loud to Scri. Very irregular. She looked at her watch. An hour had passed. She looked around her and no one seemed to have noticed what just occurred. It was like she disappeared into the air and no one saw her. She reached into her purse and pulled out the vile. It was glowing even brighter under her touch. She began to untwist the cover. It seemed like a good plan. Easy enough. But what would happen if she couldn’t fulfill her duty? Would she be revisited by the Merm? Would she spend the rest of her life scared and alone? Would she swallow something that could choke her?
But what about the perks? Scal. Love from Scal. Being able to spend every night with him. Live in his room. Sleep in his bed? Shower in his shower and wash in his sink. The possibilities were endless!
She opened the bottle and with one gulp, swallowed the liquid. It was odorless, tasteless. It was like air flowing down her throat. She couldn’t feel anything, but yet, her body tingled. Suddenly red flashes began bursting like fireworks out of the air. It was like a Fourth of July celebration without the drunks and loud noises. The air turned musty and dark. A large contract appeared and without feeling, her arm raised and signed the contract in her own blood. She screamed and this world disappeared.
People on the streets were staring at her as her finger dripped with velvet red blood. A voice echoed in her head, “Welcome Nameless Imp Six-Nine-Ex-Two.” The voice faded away and Scri’s shoulders began to feel heavy. What had she done? She pulled out a tissue from her red tank top and wrapped it around her finger.
Now, how could she help Scal? And what was the Flail? And how could she bring down the Unnamed Producer?
Questions she hoped would be answered in the later chapters of her life.
oh, the SUSPENSE!
so, i will be able to write another chapter tonight!
yay, then! can't wait!!!
I think I'm more excited than I should be. And I can't believe I'm allowing this, BSo!
HAHA!
woop!
This is fantastic!!
I have all my priorities straight - so after I Want To Be A Hilton, I'll write a new chapter.
Bad things may happen if Latricia loses.
i want a new chapter.
and i want groupies!
Whose in your avatar, groupie boy?
<---LATRICIA STAYED!
I AM IN A GOOD MOOD!
Stay tuned for the next chapter tonight!
Latrica is HOT, I like chapter 3, I can't wait for what happends!!! Hopefully no one gets PREGNANT!
Broadway Legend Joined: 5/7/04
Emcee, give us some spoilers.
Chapter Four
“Nameless Imp Six-Nine-Ex-Two,” she wondered out loud. What did this mean? And what is the Flail? The Merm seemed to stress this power, yet Scri did not know what it was. She was as confused as a young child sitting through Les Misérables - and not the abridged version; the full three hour, monotonous one.
She continued on her way to the stage door, when out of the corner of her eye she saw it. A man, dressed in black. She recognized him at the tall, lanky shady man from the corner McDonald’s. He held a very large, extremely thick cocked gun aimed at the stage door. Locked and loaded, the man seemed to be in complete concentration. He hid himself behind a small barrier on the roof of the building across the street. She was dreading what was about to happen. Caterpillars were spinning cocoons that would give birth to butterflies that would fly around her stomach. She felt sick. And she knew it wasn’t the burger.
It suddenly occurred to her what she must do. Quickly she ran to the bald black man.
“Scri, what’s wrong? You look flustered!”
“Someone is waiting, atop the roof, ready to shoot Scal!” She spat out in one breath.
“What?” The man turned and looked at the roof. Sure enough he saw it. A gun. A man. A shady presence on the outskirts of Times Square. “Alright, we’ll have Scal go out a different way. All the cast will go out a different way. Just in case. I’m going to call the police and clear away these people! Thanks for your help. You best head out before anything dangerous happens.”
Scri nodded and turned away, walking at a running pace downtown. She weaved her way in and out of the many people leaving from seeing shows. Many were happy and satisfied with what they saw. Others were not so.
Scri paid them no attention. Who was this Unnamed Producer that Lola (Lola?) wanted her to stop? She knew the story well. That Scal had ruined a UP show. And now the UP was involved with Wicked. But if no one had ever met the UP, how could she find him.
She was rubbing her chin, wondering why there was fuzz, when a thought suddenly hit her, like a beach ball thrown awry during Good Vibrations. She heard, in the corner of her right ear, two women talking on the corner. They dressed flashy, like hookers. But they seemed too smart. At first.
“Do you want to try seeing Wicked tomorrow if we can get tickets? Sue told me it was a fantastic show.”
“Is that the one at the Gershwin?”
“Yes, the theatre right over there.” She pointed out the large marquee that spelled the word ‘Wicked’ in green lettering.
“What’s it about?”
“I don’t know. I imagine it is a collection of Gershwin music, never before published.”
“Oh, that guy who wrote that show about the cowboys?”
“I think so.”
“I love that show! Let’s see Wicked!”
“Wicked!” Scri exclaimed loudly. The ladies turned and smiled prostitutishly. She coward away from them around a corner and put her back up against the cold wall. “So, the Unnamed Producer is using false advertising to get people to see the show. Then there must be an answer backstage somewhere. Some lead to the UP. Perhaps she could find this clue with the help of the Flail.
She started walking over to the theatre. She walked straight up to Eddie, confident as a cat walking in front of a line of attack dogs, and stated loudly and boldly, “Let me in, by order of the Merm.” Eddie laughed at her. The tweenie fans began laughing with him and at her. She felt pitiful. He called the cop over to have Scri removed. “This must be it,” she whispered to herself.
And there she stood, like a constipated deer in headlights, trying to conjure up the Flail. The cop, Eddie, and all the tweens watched and laughed. “I feel it!” she said. “I feel it! I feel it!” She repeated this over and over, standing tush out, head down. Nothing happened. Finally the cop, having had enough, pushed Scri on the other side of the barricade.
“Go home!” the cop yelled.
“Lola will get you for this!” she yelled back, before storming off down 51st street to the nearby metro stop. “What am I doing? I’m on a wild goose chase looking for someone who probably doesn’t even exist for a woman named Lola. Has my obsession really gotten that bad?”
“Yes,” a voice in her head said. “Yes, it has.”
Broadway Legend Joined: 5/7/04
Move over, JK Rowling. There's a new cult author in town.
Oh good God!
WOOHOO!
Gotta love the colorful analogies...i'm about ready for a plot twist!!
plot twists will come, but first there needs to be a plot.
more!
Well, I didn't want to be the one to say it...
(I want to add, that story with the women, obviously with different names and a different setting....is TRUE)
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