Midnite
01-26-07, 11:25 PM
“Damn, it’s cold as hell out here,
gotta be a record or sumthin,
Damn yo, you got ice in your beard,
Hey Mister, you got a light or sumthin?”
The older man spoke in a voice of screaming whispers, hushed chaos, the kind of voice that would put an insomniac to sleep…scary in its calm, but soothing in it’s rage, you had to hear it to understand…imagine if earthquakes spoke English
“You a little young to be smoking,
What are ya, 12, 13, shouldn’t you be in school?
Nothing better to do? You need focus,
Don’t wanna end up like those fools”
A cold, there isn’t a better word for it, wind blew through the alley ways, men were huddled over a lit trash can trying to stay warm, hopeless. Standing across from the huddles masses was the inquizzative young man dressed only in a gray hoody and blue jeans and the cigar smoking older man who wore sunglasses at night, a full length black coat and wide brim black hat and black gloves. The kid shivered recklessly, the older man stood unfazed.
“Mmmman, I I I I’m 16, and it’s ssssaturaday,
And we all gonna die, I’m just getting a jump,
Plus it’s fffreezing, and if I may,
Ask what you’re doing in this dump?”
“Kid, you talk to much, that’ll get you killed,
Where’s your coat, you wanna freeze to death?
Never mind, I’m meeting someone about a deal,
No more questions, conserve your hot breath”
The two stood silent in the frozen tundra of the big city in January. It just began snowing, but that didn’t bother the old man any. What bothered him was the neon green Dodge Neon parked across the street. The older man began walking towards the car in quick, long strides, followed by the talkative kid barely at his heels.
He got to the car and the window rolled down. Sitting in the driver’s seat was a short, and what had to be, 400-pound man with the ashen remains of donuts on his face. It had been a massacre, one that would warrant the attention of the War Crimes Tribunal and that Jared guy.
“Hey, you the man I’m here to see?”
“Depends on who you might be”
“I’m Sid Fillmore, you got what I wanted?”
“Depends, you got the money you owe Mr. Thomas?”
The fat man gasped and attempted to restart his car, but the poor Neon’s engine had stalled in the extreme cold. The older man reached into his coat and pulled out a cannon. Its barrel shined a light that would blind angels. Efficient, one pebble skidded across the expanse of the Buddha’s temple, and all that was heard was a whisper.
The kid stumbled back on his heels and slipped on the ice, falling flat on his back. His vision blurred, his periphery went black, and all he could heard was the haunting whispers of those crying for help. He saw a figure approach him from above, black wings and demon eyes, the boy tried to cry out, but no sound came, instead, he was yanked towards the sky…
“You ok kid? Looks like you hit your head”
“Is, is, is he…”
“Yea kid, fat boy is dead,
Got caught up in the game, made the wrong people angry.”
The kid’s mouth hung open, with the extreme cold, his tongue began to form icicles. He wasn’t breathing steady, hyperventilating, he couldn’t understand what he saw…No, he knew what he saw, but what the hell was gonna happen to him now?
“Might wanna close your mouth, you’ll lose your tongue,
Oh, I see, you’re worried about my gun,
No worries kid, I won’t kill you,
It isn’t your time; you haven’t paid your dues,
Listen kid, no worries, what’s your name?”
“It’s Jay, Jay Thomas, man, I can’t feel my face…”
“You’re cold kid, you need to dress for the weather,
You got a fever kid, let’s get out the cold, you’ll feel better”
“Wait, wait…what’s your name man?”
“Oh, poor manners, sorry, hmm, damn,
It’s been awhile since anyone asked me that,
Name’s Lemon, you are, cold, here take my hat”
“Why do they call you Lemon? You a fruit?
Naw, can’t be, not by the way you shoot”
Lemon took off his sunglasses and showed his eyes; he had cat eyes, dyed a yellow that would put the Sun to shame. Jay shivered hard this time, and he wasn’t sure if it was cause he was freezing or because he was scared to death. Was he a demon, maybe an angel, naw, he just killed a man. Vampire? Would he drink his blood? Jay began to seriously wonder if he was going to die on this frigid night.
“Vampires don’t exist kid, and I’m not an Demon or Angel,
I’m just a man who is the best at what he is able,
We all got our tasks, we are all subject to the whims of fate,
When you got Lemons, you make lemonade,
Don’t worry though kid, you’ll soon feel better,
And my name, hell, even my face, you’ll never remember”
Jay then found himself surrounded by men and women in white coats, with machines beeping in the background, and the crying and moaning of unseen people. Was he in hell? Where the hell was he? What just happened?
“Son, I’m Dr. Lemon, and you’re in the E.R. at County General,
You were suffering from severe hypothermia,
You’re very lucky to be alive; you didn’t have on thermal,
If we didn’t find you, young man, you have no idea…”
Nurse: Would you like something to drink Jay?
Jay: What do you have?
Nurse: We got fresh squeezed Lemonade
Jay: … :dry:
gotta be a record or sumthin,
Damn yo, you got ice in your beard,
Hey Mister, you got a light or sumthin?”
The older man spoke in a voice of screaming whispers, hushed chaos, the kind of voice that would put an insomniac to sleep…scary in its calm, but soothing in it’s rage, you had to hear it to understand…imagine if earthquakes spoke English
“You a little young to be smoking,
What are ya, 12, 13, shouldn’t you be in school?
Nothing better to do? You need focus,
Don’t wanna end up like those fools”
A cold, there isn’t a better word for it, wind blew through the alley ways, men were huddled over a lit trash can trying to stay warm, hopeless. Standing across from the huddles masses was the inquizzative young man dressed only in a gray hoody and blue jeans and the cigar smoking older man who wore sunglasses at night, a full length black coat and wide brim black hat and black gloves. The kid shivered recklessly, the older man stood unfazed.
“Mmmman, I I I I’m 16, and it’s ssssaturaday,
And we all gonna die, I’m just getting a jump,
Plus it’s fffreezing, and if I may,
Ask what you’re doing in this dump?”
“Kid, you talk to much, that’ll get you killed,
Where’s your coat, you wanna freeze to death?
Never mind, I’m meeting someone about a deal,
No more questions, conserve your hot breath”
The two stood silent in the frozen tundra of the big city in January. It just began snowing, but that didn’t bother the old man any. What bothered him was the neon green Dodge Neon parked across the street. The older man began walking towards the car in quick, long strides, followed by the talkative kid barely at his heels.
He got to the car and the window rolled down. Sitting in the driver’s seat was a short, and what had to be, 400-pound man with the ashen remains of donuts on his face. It had been a massacre, one that would warrant the attention of the War Crimes Tribunal and that Jared guy.
“Hey, you the man I’m here to see?”
“Depends on who you might be”
“I’m Sid Fillmore, you got what I wanted?”
“Depends, you got the money you owe Mr. Thomas?”
The fat man gasped and attempted to restart his car, but the poor Neon’s engine had stalled in the extreme cold. The older man reached into his coat and pulled out a cannon. Its barrel shined a light that would blind angels. Efficient, one pebble skidded across the expanse of the Buddha’s temple, and all that was heard was a whisper.
The kid stumbled back on his heels and slipped on the ice, falling flat on his back. His vision blurred, his periphery went black, and all he could heard was the haunting whispers of those crying for help. He saw a figure approach him from above, black wings and demon eyes, the boy tried to cry out, but no sound came, instead, he was yanked towards the sky…
“You ok kid? Looks like you hit your head”
“Is, is, is he…”
“Yea kid, fat boy is dead,
Got caught up in the game, made the wrong people angry.”
The kid’s mouth hung open, with the extreme cold, his tongue began to form icicles. He wasn’t breathing steady, hyperventilating, he couldn’t understand what he saw…No, he knew what he saw, but what the hell was gonna happen to him now?
“Might wanna close your mouth, you’ll lose your tongue,
Oh, I see, you’re worried about my gun,
No worries kid, I won’t kill you,
It isn’t your time; you haven’t paid your dues,
Listen kid, no worries, what’s your name?”
“It’s Jay, Jay Thomas, man, I can’t feel my face…”
“You’re cold kid, you need to dress for the weather,
You got a fever kid, let’s get out the cold, you’ll feel better”
“Wait, wait…what’s your name man?”
“Oh, poor manners, sorry, hmm, damn,
It’s been awhile since anyone asked me that,
Name’s Lemon, you are, cold, here take my hat”
“Why do they call you Lemon? You a fruit?
Naw, can’t be, not by the way you shoot”
Lemon took off his sunglasses and showed his eyes; he had cat eyes, dyed a yellow that would put the Sun to shame. Jay shivered hard this time, and he wasn’t sure if it was cause he was freezing or because he was scared to death. Was he a demon, maybe an angel, naw, he just killed a man. Vampire? Would he drink his blood? Jay began to seriously wonder if he was going to die on this frigid night.
“Vampires don’t exist kid, and I’m not an Demon or Angel,
I’m just a man who is the best at what he is able,
We all got our tasks, we are all subject to the whims of fate,
When you got Lemons, you make lemonade,
Don’t worry though kid, you’ll soon feel better,
And my name, hell, even my face, you’ll never remember”
Jay then found himself surrounded by men and women in white coats, with machines beeping in the background, and the crying and moaning of unseen people. Was he in hell? Where the hell was he? What just happened?
“Son, I’m Dr. Lemon, and you’re in the E.R. at County General,
You were suffering from severe hypothermia,
You’re very lucky to be alive; you didn’t have on thermal,
If we didn’t find you, young man, you have no idea…”
Nurse: Would you like something to drink Jay?
Jay: What do you have?
Nurse: We got fresh squeezed Lemonade
Jay: … :dry: