Posted By:
BookWorm (216.32.176.203)
Date: Monday November 29 [10:52:41 AM]
{NOTE: this is the second part of this story, if you missed part one two fridays ago, portions of this may not make sense. let me know & i can re-post or email you part 1}
** ** **
Event #5: part 2
** ** **
Eben: “This is unbelievable. You know, I must be the stupidest man alive. Here I am, living in the wealthiest African-American community in the entire United States, and I’m out here like an idiot – about to get myself killed – looking for a bottle of baby formula, all so that we can keep some guy that I don’t give a damn about anyway.”
Fran96SE: “I hear ya man. I just joined up with you guys a couple of weeks ago, I don’t even know what I’m doing out here.”
Eben: “What time you got?”
Frans96SE: “About 1:30.”
Eben: “Nuts! We’ve just got 90 minutes left to find this thing. Where in the world…”
Frans96SE: “These are your people, where would YOU expect to find the stuff?”
Eben: “WHAT???”
Eben decides to let the quip pass. He starts thinking hard and looking around for a clue. Suddenly, he spies a city bus stop at the next corner.
Eben: “Hmmmm. Public transportation stop at 1:30 in the day.”
Frans96SE (sees him staring): “What ‘cha got?”
Eben: “Who on earth owns a car around here? Geez, you couldn’t park it, even if you wanted to. Let’s take a look at that bus stop, I’ll give you five to one that there’s someone there with a baby.”
The two head down the street, toward the bus station ahead, on 53rd street.
** ** **
Busy sorting out his dirty laundry, and in a hurry to get home and take a hot shower, Jerome Gordon has not even noticed the two little men behind him who have taken a keen interest in his pile of whites.
Having looked around the side of the massive man too, Shing has spotted the three dirty jock straps and is glancing back at SkyMax. Shing nods in the direction of the back door, and the two silently tip toe off to have a strategizing summit. They are now standing next to the back entry of the coin-op, about fifteen feet from the 6’4 Gordon, and have started talking in hushed tones.
SkyMax: “Man, what luck – that guy’s got THREE of them!”
Shing: “Luck? Yeh, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t screw our heads off – did you get a look at the GUNS on that dude?!”
SkyMax: “You’re right. We can forget just asking him for a pair. This is going to take brains – our brains will overcome his brawn. We need a plan.”
Shing: “Ok, here’s what we’ll do. You go over and start up a conversation with the guy. Stand on this side of him, so he’s facing that way. While you’ve got him busy gabbing, I’ll reach in snag a jock and make for the back door. What’daya say?”
SkyMax: “I say that plan sucks! Why do I have to be the one to talk to him?? What do I talk to him about?
Shing: “How should I know?! Just make something up. I’m the one taking all the risks – what if he catches me? Did you think about that? I gotta explain to Lawernce Taylor over there, why I just tried to swipe one of his jock straps! Now c’mon, lets go.”
SkyMax reluctantly follows Shing back to the laundry table. Gordon is still focused on his clothes, and doesn’t notice Shing slip past him and into position. Shing nods to SkyMax and mouths the words : “Go ahead”.
SkyMax nervously approaches Jerome Gordon: “Ahhh, heeeey….bro. How’s it going on in your world, homie?”
Gordon looks over at the trembling SkyMax: “Its all right, man.”
SkyMax (realizing he’s getting nowhere): “Say, ahhh,…dog, I mean…dawg – do you know where I can catch the bus into Manhattan?”
Gordon (eyes him for what seems like an eternity): “Sure, here’s what you do…”
Gordon turns towards the street and points out the window towards the bus station just across the street. The 53rd Street bus station.
** ** **
Jake and Tommy Reed don’t take pride in much. They don’t bother to bathe often, they get hair cuts once or twice a year, and have been wearing the same pairs of blue jeans since moving to The Big Apple from Biloxi in 1994. But there is one thing that they take immense pride in – and that’s Jessie. Jessie is their fully restored 1964 flare-side Chevy pickup truck. Things haven’t worked out so well for the brothers. The jobs in Manhattan didn’t pan out – something about attitude. Forced to take odd jobs to make ends meet, they’ve now found themselves holed up in a one bedroom flat in the middle of Harlem, and are basically two angry, miserable people.
But Jessie is a different story. The candy apple red machine has an engine block that you could eat off of, in fact, they have. Chromed out and shining like the devil, the two are in Jessie headed to the 7-11 for some cold brews. Having parked Jessie right in front of the picture window, they’re inside at the very moment arguing over whether to but Coors or Bud.
This argument is taking place just as another argument is taking place outside. This second argument is between members of the MaximaMafia.
BryanH: “We can’t quit. The guys are depending on us – not to mention Andi.”
NightRider: “But this is impossible. It simply can’t be done and we’re wasting our time.”
Nismos87SE: “He’s right man. Where on earth are we supposed to find a confederate flag around here? It can’t be done.”
BryanH (looks up toward the 7-11): “Hey! Take a look at that red Chevy!”
NightRider: “SA-WEEET! Let’s check that out.”
The three approach the classic machine and begin giving it the once over. It is an impressive piece of metal. Passing the front end and looking at the chrome grill, Nismos87SE suddenly freezes in his tracks. He calmly looks around the parking lot for other people, and then motions to the others.
Nismos87SE: “Hey guys. Take a look at the front license plate.”
** ** **
While Jerome Gordon is still showing the way to SkyMax, Shing realizes that this is likely to be his best and only chance. He decides to make his move. Shing slowly approaches the pile of laundry while Gordon is mid sentence.
Gordon: “Just walk over there to the 53rd Street station and get on the 114 west. Take that to…”
Shing is now less than a foot from the mammoth man, directly behind his back. He reaches out, his fingers just inches from Gordon’s hip, and grabs one of the jock straps. The jubilant SkyMax nearly blows it.
SkyMax: “YES!!!”
Gordon: “Huh? Yes, what?”
SkyMax starts to cover his tracks: “Aaaa, YES!, I understand you.”
It works. Gordon continues with his explanation and Shing begins to tiptoe backwards. Suddenly, the cell phone which is clipped to Shing’s hip – RINGS.
** ** **
Chebosto: “Man, we’ve got less than an hour to go. Where in the world are we going to find this stupid baby formula?”
MaximaLuva: “I don’t know! To tell you the truth, I’m half tempted to find a bar, grab a cold beer and say hell with that Andi. I never really liked that punk much anyway. What’s he ever done for me – got me buried in manure, I need that?”
Chebosto: “That’s not a half bad idea, why don’t we…..hey! Look at that.”
Chebosto is pointing at a brick building across the street with a sign on the front which reads “53rd Avenue Medical Center.
Chebosto: “Let’s go take a look.”
The two cross the street and stop in front of the building. They climb the steps and enter the lobby, a security guard carefully eyeing them from behind his desk. They approach the building registry and begin reading.
MaximaLuva: “Check it out.”
What MaximaLuva has noticed is the fourth name down from the top of the registry – Dr. Laurie Baker, Pediatrics – suite 320.
** ** **
The climb thus far has taken about 30 minutes. Slowly scaling the side of the building like Spiderman, Juggernaut has made his way up to the third floor balcony railing, and is now just one apartment below that of Wes Carter – the Alabama red neck who tried to blow his head off less than an hour ago. It would not have taken Juggernaut this long, but the apartment balconies are spaced nearly ten feet apart - vertically. JimW and Tanman had to hoist him up in order to reach the first one. Since that one he has had to stand on the thin rail and jump up to the next. Grab it with his hands and do a pull up onto a thin ledge. Swing one leg up over the railing, gain his balance, stand up, and repeat the process. Couple that with the fact that Juggernaut is afraid of heights, and it stands to reason that this has not been a pleasant experience for him.
He’s now some 35 feet in the air and doing his best not to look down. Everytime he does, he get a queasy feeling in his stomach and wants to vomit. Looking up, Juggernaut can now see the confederate flag, flying from Carter’s deck. He works his way over to the corner of the balcony, so as not to have his head pop up right in the middle and be spied by the red neck.
Juggernaut carefully balances himself against the side of the building and leaps. He grabs the bottom of Carter’s balcony, and slowly begins to pull himself up. So far so good. The flag is just a foot or so away. If he can get just one foot onto the ledge, he can reach it and throw it down to JimW.
** ** **
Shing’s heart practically stops beating as the huge Jerome Gordon turns around to see where the ringing sound is coming from. As he turns, he spies the Shingster, standing there with a ringing phone on his hip and one of Gordon’s jock straps in his hand. Shing is stone cold busted. He is no more than three feet from the monster, and realizes that he has no hope of escape. Gordon bellows at him:
Gordon: “What the hell are you doing?!! Stealing my laundry!?”
Shing is caught speechless. Gordon forgets all about SkyMax and lunges at Shing. He grabs him by the shirt, picks him up completely off the ground and starts shaking him violently. SkyMax, realizing that he’s of little help in this fight, reaches out and grabs one of the remaining jock straps. SkyMax bolts out the front door into the street – nearly colliding with Eben and Frans96SE, who were passing by the front of the laundry mat, in the process.
Frans96SE: “What the…? Hey, wasn’t that, that bubble head SkyMax?”
Eben: “Sure was, wonder where he’s going in such a gawd-aweful hurry. Lets check this place out.”
The two turn and peer into the window, just in time to see Shing about to take the worst of it.
** ** **
Its been nearly two hours, CraigB and Gr8bone don’t appear to be any closer to getting a Pavoratti CD than they were when they came in. Joe Washington has taken the boys off on so many wild tangents, and fed them so many milk and cookies, that they’re fearing they’ll never leave – CD or not. CraigB realizes that its time for action:
CraigB: “Hey this has been great Joe, do you think that we could use your bathroom for a second?”
Washington: “Sure, sure. Right this way.”
Gr8bone: “But I don’t have to go to the ba….
CraigB (glares at him): “Yes – you – do.”
Gr8bone catches on and they follow the man down the hall. Once in the john, the two start to put their heads together.
Gr8bone: “Man, this guy’s killing me. We’ve got to get outta here.”
CraigB: “Not without that CD we don’t.”
Gr8bone: “Well, that’s the problem. We’ll never get to the CD. We don’t know where they are or if he even has one!”
CraigB: “Ok, tell you what – you go back out and tell him that I’m not feeling well and may be in the bathroom for a while. Get him off on one of his stories, then while he’s lost in space I’ll do some snooping around and see what I can find.”
Gr8bone: “Done.”
With that, Gr8bone leaves CraigB stranded in the bathroom and heads back. Joe Washington is right back in his easy chair – just waiting for his guests return.
Gr8bone: “So tell me Joe, have you ever been to Coney Island?”
Washington: “Have I?!! Let me tell you, son. When I was a young fella, about your age no doubt, we used to get together every other Sunday – after church of course – and…
** ** **
NightRider: “Do you think that counts? I mean, its not exactly a flag?”
Nismos87SE: “Sure it does. Hey, he didn’t say it had to be made out of cotton – he just said a confederate flag.”
The three are looking at the front end of Jake & Tommy Reid’s pickup truck, which has a metal confederate flag plaque on the front bumper, where the license plate is supposed to go. Contemplating whether or not it counts as a flag, should be the least of their worries.
BryanH: “Ok, ok. Let’s assume that its alright – how are we going to get it? Its on there with four phillips head screws.”
NightRider: “NightRider to the rescue!”
NightRider pulls out the Swiss Army pocket knife that he got for test driving a 2000 Maxima and, sure enough, it has a phillips head on it.”
Nismos87SE: “Aww, you’re the man! Get busy, we’ll cover for you.”
As NightRider gets to work on the license plate frame, inside the brothers have settled their little dispute. They’ve decided to get BOTH a six-pack of Coors and a six-pack of Bud. They’re now en route to the cash register, where they’ll be third in line.
** ** **
Back outside the laundry mat, Eben and Frans96SE press their faces to the glass, just in time to see an incredible site. The five foot six Shing is looking the six foot four Jerome Gordon directly in the eyes. Gordon has him by the shirt and is shaking him like a rag doll.
Frans96SE: “Holy cow! Shing’s really in trouble.”
Eben: “Slightly!! Geez!! Get a look at the SIZE of that brutha.”
Gordon lets go of Shing with one arm, reaches out and flings open the door to one of the standing, heavy-duty, vertical clothes dryers. He takes Shing, stuffs him into the dryer and slams the door – entrapping the startled Shing. Gordon then puts a quarter into the machine and presses the button marked - EXTRA HOT, Cottons only. The machine starts up and send Shing bumping and whirling about inside. He’s tumbling head over heels inside the super heated machine, as it begins its rotations.
Frans96SE: “Good grief!! Did you see that?! You think we should help???”
Eben: “You’re doggone right we’re going to help!”
With that, Eben rushes the door. He runs into the building, straight for Gordon – who’s facing the other way. As soon as he gets to him, Eben reaches out and grabs one of Gordon’s meaty shoulders and spins the man around so that the two are facing one another.
Eben: “Hey!” (Eben begins digging into this pocket) “Here you go, brah.”
Eben drops three more quarters into Jerome Gordon’s hand.
** ** **
Just a little bit farrrrrther…a little mooore… The tip of the confederate flag is just beyond Juggernaut’s reach. Its less than an inch. Straining with every muscle in his body, he’s reaching, reaching, reaching…GOT IT! Juggernaut has the flag. He motions to the guys, who are quietly celebrating below. Then, Juggernaut hears the unmistakable sound of a sliding glass door opening. Sure enough, its Wes Carter.
Carter: “What in the hey-LLL? YOU! Why you…”
Carter turns and heads back into the apartment. Juggernaut gets the feeling that he knows precisely where he’s headed – Shot Gun City, Alabama. Time to get out of there. Juggernaut shouts down to JimW:
Juggernaut: “Here! Get going, I’ll catch up.”
He tosses down the flag. Tanman picks it up and the two tear off through the courtyard. Juggernaut starts his descent. He’s feeling around with his foot for the railing on the balcony below. Suddenly, he hears Carter’s footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. “I’ll never make it”, he thinks to himself. Juggernaut realizes that there is only one option – the pool.
He forces himself to look down. The pool is a full forty five feet below, and about 15 feet out, with a good enough leap, he can make it. He hears Carter:
Carter: “I might-a missed yew th’ first tyme, nigger-luver, but I’m damn shur gonna put a hole in yer hide this time.”
Its do or die time for Juggernaut. He leaps out with all of his might. The shocked Carter can’t believe it. Like a stunt from a James Bond movie, Juggernaut flies through the air, free falling for a good three seconds. Arms flailing about in mid-air, he lands in the pools with a massive *SPLASH*. Its late November and the heat has been turned off in the pool since Labor Day. The water is freezing. Juggernaut comes up coughing and sputtering.
Irate that he has escaped him two times AND has stolen his flag, Wes Carter begins to curse Juggernaut out at the top of his lungs.
Soaking wet, Juggernaut makes a hasty retreat.
** ** **
Back at the finish line, SkyMax comes streaking up to Booker.
SkyMax: “Here, look.”
He holds up the soiled, extra large jock strap. Booker looks it over, (but doesn’t touch it).
Booker: “Ok. Well done young man.”
theBooker places a check mark on the MaximaMafia’s list next to “jock strap”.
Booker: “That’s two to one, favor of the Mafia.”
Woodear and Keven, having submitted their item, are still hanging out nearby & see SkyMax.
Keven: “Where’s Shing?”
** ** **
A moment later, Tanman and JimW come running up – waving the confederate flag as if it were the Nebraska Cornhuskers flag after they’d just won the Sugar Bowl.
JimW: “There you are, big shot. We got your stinking flag.”
Booker: “So you did. (glances at his watch) That ties things up.”
** ** **
END OF PART 2:
- Jambytes - 2 items found
- MaximaMafia - 2 items found
Signed by - theBooker, Creator/Author/Editor-in-cheif of the hit series, "As the BBS Turns". Position of Quality Assurance Manager has been filled and a strong candidate for Technical Editor has been identified (pending drug test & non-compete disclosures). Its your world, we're just living in it. This forumn was a lot more fun before we all starting taking it & ourselves so seriously. 96 Pebble Beige 5-spd SE, with modest yet effective modifications, daily. The internet is no place for an OSU, State Penn or Michigan fan. Badgers - bringing home the Roses, AGAIN!
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