Betting Shops (Single Staffing): 5 Feb 2014: Westminster

Wrestling Observer Rewind ★ Jun. 24, 2002

Going through old issues of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter and posting highlights in my own words. For anyone interested, I highly recommend signing up for the actual site at f4wonline and checking out the full archives.
PREVIOUSLY:
1-7-2002 1-14-2002 1-21-2002 1-28-2002
2-4-2002 2-11-2002 2-18-2002 2-25-2002
3-4-2002 3-11-2002 3-18-2002 3-25-2002
4-1-2002 4-8-2002 4-15-2002 4-22-2002
4-29-2002 5-6-2002 5-13-2002 5-20-2002
5-27-2002 6-3-2002 6-10-2002 6-17-2002
  • We open with a ton of details on Steve Austin walking out on WWE last week, and the story took a darker turn this week when Austin was accused of allegedly beating his wife Debra. Looks like Dave is just going to run through the whole last couple of weeks first though, before we get to all that. No wrestler in the history of the business has generated more money than Austin has in the past 5 years, leading the way for WWE to become listed on the New York Stock Exchange and valued at more than $1 billion. Hulk Hogan, Antonio Inoki, Gorgeous George, Jim Londos....no one in the history of wrestling, even adjusted for inflation, has been a bigger money-maker than Steve Austin. Throughout it all, he had a reputation as a pro's pro, always working hard and being unselfish in trying to help the company and his co-workers grow. But over the last few months, things had changed. The company is nose-diving, Austin had become paranoid and distrustful of the locker room, particularly when the NWO guys were brought in. He refused to work with Hogan at Wrestlemania and wasn't happy about working with Hall either, and insisted on decisively winning their match and blowing off the feud. He went home after Wrestlemania, no-showing Raw the night after, but things seemed to be patched up soon after. When he came back, he still wasn't happy and spoke out publicly against the brand extension and the overall creative direction of the company. A lot of people in the locker room supported Austin, feeling he was completely justified in his complaints because everyone realizes the wheels are falling off the company lately. The Sunday night before Raw last week, Austin was told by Jim Ross that the plan was for him to face Brock Lesnar, with the idea that Eddie Guerrero would cost him the match. Austin pointed out the obvious: him vs. Lesnar is a huge money match that should be built up for months on PPV. Lesnar should go through the whole locker room before he gets to Austin last. No first, on free TV, with no build-up. Austin hated the idea and said he wasn't coming if that was the plan. Ross told Vince, who called Austin and left a voicemail. He told Austin to call him back, no matter what time. Austin did call back, at 2am, and they discussed the plan. According to Vince, Austin had reluctantly agreed to it. Austin evidently felt otherwise, because he showed up to Raw that day, found out the Lesnar match was still booked, and decided, "fuck that", got on a plane and went home with Debra.
  • Raw that night was mostly built around the angle where Ric Flair would have to be Austin's personal assistant after he lost their match last week. Because much of the show was written around that, they had to re-write the whole show at the last minute in a panic, abruptly turning Flair babyface again and ending the huge dual-ownership angle with no build-up (it really sounds like Vince was determined to give away something huge on TV that week without building it up. "Ok, fine, Austin walked out. What else can we ruin this week and throw away a perfectly good PPV money opportunity?"). Meanwhile, Austin was ignoring all phone calls until he finally answered one from Jim Ross, who told Austin he was being unprofessional and to come try and talk it out with Vince. But Austin refused, saying he refused to work with McMahon anymore, and hung up.
  • So then came the burial. Vince McMahon and Jim Ross taped interviews for this week's episode of WWE Confidential in which they completely buried Austin, with Vince vowing to never bring him back. Basically everything you can imagine: Austin turned his back on the fans, he betrayed the little kids with Stone Cold shirts and all the fans who made him rich. WWE invested so much in Austin only for him to turn his back on them and so on and so forth. Jim Ross in particular dumped a lot of dirt on Austin's grave here, which Dave seems taken aback by. Austin saved Jim Ross' announcing career by insisting that JR be brought back for his Wrestlemania 15 match with Rock. At the time, Ross was still suffering from Bells palsy and Vince had no intention of ever bringing him back, but Austin insisted and the crowd reaction led to Ross being brought back permanently. So for Ross to be burying his good friend like this seems to rub Dave the wrong way (for what it's worth, it rubbed JR the wrong way too. He's gone on record a million times since then saying he wished he hadn't done it and he's apologized to Austin profusely for it). Ross talked openly about some of Austin's personal business, like his previous divorce or when his kids went to live in England, and hinted that Austin's issues were more than just professional burnout. At the time this was being filmed, nobody knew just how true that was.
WATCH: WWE Confidential: The Steve Austine episode
  • The night before WWE Confidential aired, at 4am, Austin's wife Debra called 911 to their home in San Antonio, claiming Austin had attacked her. Austin drove away in his yellow Corvette before the police arrived. When they showed up, they found Debra crying with a large welt on her face. She said Austin had hit her several times after an argument then left when she made the 911 call. She said she was worried about the call because of how famous Austin is and knowing word would get out. She also showed them several marks on her back where she said Austin hit her. Austin called the house twice while police were there and they spoke to him and advised him to come home. Austin was cordial to the officers on the phone but refused to come back home while they were there. Debra declined to press charges and because she refused to seek medical attention, under Texas law, the police pretty much consider it a dead issue unless she changes her mind. Austin later returned home after they left. The national news media didn't pick up on it until Monday, at which point it became a huge story. They even had a news helicopter following Austin driving around town (with an open beer in his Corvette), talking with his neighbors in his yard, and also showed him flipping off the news cameras (I can't find footage of any of this). Because Austin is a wrestler and play fighting is what they do, the media treated this very serious issue as if were almost a joke, which Dave seems disgusted by.
  • With Austin being all over the news that day, this led to the unannounced surprise return of The Rock on Raw, after they spent the whole show teasing that Austin would show up. Rock wasn't scheduled to return until next month, to build for a match at Summerslam, but knowing the company was in a tough situation, Rock agreed to come back early. The plan appears to be for Rock to challenge for the WWE title at Fully Loaded next month. There's also been talk about Rock winning the title and then dropping it to Brock Lesnar at Summerslam, which is a surefire way to create a new superstar (indeed, that's exactly what happens). Rock's return, since it came as a complete surprise, was a flop in the ratings. If they had built it up just one week, they could have made some money on it, but not building up anything seems to be the M.O. for WWE these days. Between the Shawn Michaels return, the FlaiVince blow-off, and now this, that's 3 Raws in a row where they gave away major moments that should/could have been built up for bigger ratings or PPV money. Dave calls WWE a junkie pawning its $2,500 ring for $500 just to get a quick fix. And that's not even getting into the smaller details, such as the fact that Rock is a Smackdown guy, so why the fuck is he returning on Raw anyway? But again, the wheels are totally off the WWE train here in 2002. It's clear to see in retrospect how WWE was falling from their peak and Vince was desperately clawing at any idea he could think of to stop the bleeding.
  • So back to Austin. Even after the story broke, Vince went on Raw and changed his tune, saying he hoped Austin would some day come back to WWE but time would tell and for now, he's gone. Dave says if you think this is going to end Austin's career, look at Mike Tyson, Jimmy Snuka, Invader I, and Chris Adams. All of whom did even more heinous things than Austin and their careers were just fine. Dave is pretty sure he'll be back. Rock came out on Raw, gave a big rah-rah speech in which he also pretty much buried Austin for "taking his ball and going home" and did the whole "get the F out" tagline. And that's it on the Austin saga for now.
  • It's officially super-duper extra official now: the World Wrestling Federation is dead. WWE lost its final appeal in the UK's highest court in their battle against the World Wildlife Fund. Vince McMahon had already thrown in the towel and the company has already been renamed to WWE, but the final appeal was never dropped and was still going through the system. In the highly unlikely event that they somehow won the case, they planned to revert back to the WWF initials. But of course, they didn't win. Just like every single lower court before them, the court handed the wrestling company its final defeat. So WWF is dead. WWE it is.
  • Motoko Baba officially announced that she will be retiring as AJPW president at the end of September. It's expected that Keiji Muto will take over the role, which has been heavily rumored ever since he jumped ship from NJPW.
  • A rookie named Trevor Rhodes, who was trained by Harley Race, will be working the upcoming tour for Pro Wrestling NOAH (this would be future WWE star Trevor Murdoch).
  • NJPW held its annual stockholders meeting and Antonio Inoki couldn't even be bothered to attend. Masa Chono and Tatsuo Kawamura were named to the board of directors, to replace Riki Choshu. Speaking of, Choshu was also there and sold all his stock in the company and left without speaking to reporters.
  • In a radio interview, Jesse Ventura announced that he will not be running for a second term as Minnesota's governor. Ventura didn't go into all the reasons why, but he did acknowledge a recent controversy as playing a part. There's been some news stories this week noting that Ventura's 22-year-old son used the governor's mansion for a late night weekend party awhile back. Cleaning crew members of the mansion went public saying that when their parents are gone, this kid basically throws wild parties there that they have to clean up after. Ventura shot back, basically claiming his son is being slandered and denied it, but said the attacks on his family made him not want to run again. The news stories talked about some of the alleged damage and Dave actually sides with Ventura here. The damage doesn't sound that bad (some empty beer cans, a broken pool cue, and some tables that were scuffed up. "Geez, that's my house whenever there is a fight night," Dave writes. Doesn't sound like that wild of a party. A 22-year old brings his friends over to watch sports and drink some beer. Dave doesn't think that should be a huge controversy or anything. Neighbors near the mansion have said there's been no issue with noise or disturbances.
  • Major League Wrestling had its debut show at the old ECW Arena and the MLW championship was won by Shane Douglas. They did an angle where they basically tried to re-create the famous Shane Douglas/NWA title incident, where Shane was gonna throw the belt down, but they did an angle where he was told he'd be fined and suspended for life from wrestling if he didn't defend the belt. Angle didn't get over at all and most people there hated it and it led to pretty mediocre reviews for the show overall. Bam Bam Bigelow was supposed to work the show, but when he arrived, he found out they wanted him to do a job to AJPW wrestler Taiyo Kea in the first round of the title tournament. Bam Bam said fuck that and bounced. Steve Corino also managed to get a "fuck Paul Heyman!" chant going, in the ECW Arena nonetheless, which is an interesting note.
  • Sandman will be doing a celebrity boxing match in Philly soon, going against Tony Luke, who owns a bunch of sandwich shops in the area and is known as "The King of Sandwiches" in Philadelphia. Sure, why not?
  • There was a recent news story about Sputnik Monroe from a reporter who was in Memphis for the Tyson/Lewis boxing match. The reporter went to the Memphis Rock 'n Soul museum and saw the big display they had there for Monroe, including his ring jacket, trunks, boots, etc. Dave recaps the history of Monroe, who is credited with desegregating wrestling in Memphis during the Jim Crow days of the 1950s. Monroe was a white wrestler who hung out in the black part of town and, as a result, became the black fans' favorite wrestler. He was a huge draw in Memphis at a time when black fans weren't allowed to sit in the main seats, only the nosebleeds in the balcony. Monroe's popularity was so big that one week, they turned away more than 1,000 black fans even though they had room in the arena. Just not in the "colored" section. So Monroe told the promoter he was quitting if they didn't let in his black fans. And since Monroe was such a huge draw, the promoter caved, and just like that, black fans were allowed to sit with white fans anywhere in the arena. It actually had a domino effect, because it was the first sporting event in Memphis to desegregate and it led to other sporting and entertainment events in the city following suit. In the 50s and 60s, Memphis was one of the only wrestling territories in America that was desegregated like this (fun fact: I used to live in Memphis and just went to that museum back in 2018. For starters, I highly recommend it if you're ever in town. In fact, I have a million recommendations for anyone who ever visits Memphis. That city is my heart and soul. Also, the Sputnik Monroe exhibit is still there).
  • The TNA debut show hasn't happened at press time, but Ken Shamrock is expected to win the NWA title in the battle royal gimmick. If he doesn't, it's because there was a last minute change, but as of now, it's absolutely going to be Shamrock.
  • Good news for TNA, the company reached an agreement with Dish Network, which adds another 7-8 million potential homes to their exposure. The only PPV provider in the U.S. not carrying them now is Cablevision.
  • The TNA cruiserweight title has been renamed the "X" title. The idea is that it's not necessarily going to be limited to just small guys and will act more as a secondary title to the NWA belt, not exclusively a cruiserweight thing.
  • Disco Inferno turned down an offer to join TNA because they wanted him to change his name to Ad Man and have a gimmick where people print/draw ads on his body, like they do in boxing sometimes. Or like a NASCAR. The idea is he would be covered in ads and every week, he'd lose a match and a "sponsor" would drop out and eventually, he'd have no sponsors left because he keeps losing. Gee, hard to see why he turned that gimmick down.
  • Random other TNA notes: Ed Ferrara is involved in writing the shows along with Jeff and Jerry Jarrett (and, let's be honest, Vince Russo, though that's still top secret. Shhhh, don't tell anybody). Jeff Jarrett was in the pits for the recent NASCAR Kroger 300 race with Hermie Sadler, who is scheduled to be at TNA's debut show. Former ECW manager Sinister Minister will be part of this company, using his real name James Mitchell. K-Krush (Ron Killings, aka R-Truth) is expected to be one of the main heels in the promotion.
  • Okay, fine. Let's talk Russo. Officially, he's still not involved, but he has submitted a bunch of ideas, many of which are expected to be implemented on the debut show. But "officially" he's not part of the company (he's still gotta have a quick cup of coffee in WWE before they kick him to the curb again, at which point he finally decides to join TNA for real).
  • The WWA promotion is in deep trouble. They have a show scheduled for Ireland soon and ticket sales for that show are pretty decent. But every other show on their books looks to be dying. They have 3 shows scheduled for Germany next month and all 3 shows have less than 500 tickets sold each. The German promoters are wanting to cancel the tour but WWA promoter Andrew McManus has a contract that will result in a lot of financial penalties for him if the shows are canceled, so he's fighting it. Lex Luger is booked for the tour, which would be his first time wrestling since WCW went down. They're also still promoting names like Jeff Jarrett and other TNA contracted talent, but with their new plan of running live every week, it's going to be hard for any of them to get overseas, work the tour, and still do the TNA tapings.
  • XWF is making one last grasp to survive. Even though they've been saying this for almost a year now, the promotion is claiming once again to be very close to getting a TV deal. If it goes through, the plan is to hold a press conference to announce it and then tape 5 weeks of TV to air in Sept. and Oct., with plans to air a PPV some time in late-October. Dave says this sounds like desperation to him and he's not buying that a TV deal is close. Especially since they lost all their top stars, like Hogan, Curt Hennig, and Jerry Lawler, all of whom were involved at the beginning but have all since returned to WWE (though Hennig has since been fired by WWE again, so he's available). But even if this miraculously happens, most of the marketable names left out there have already signed short-term deals with TNA that will last through October, so they wouldn't be available either. So XWF will be struggling to fill a roster with names anyone even cares about (obviously this never happens).
  • UFC will make its TV debut as part of a 30-minute segment on Fox Sports' "The Best Damn Sports Show Period." It will be hosted by Fear Factor host Joe Rogan, who is a huge UFC fan and has a lot of martial arts experience himself. The idea is to show one full fight in its entirety (Robbie Lawler vs. Steve Berger), with highlights of other fights to fill out the rest of the time. Dave criticizes them for not putting Chuck Liddell vs. Vitor Belfort on the show, or at least airing highlights, but that's not the plan as of press time. Obviously, that's a strong PPV draw and that's where the money is, but you only get one chance to make a good impression and Dave thinks it would be in UFC's best interest to give TV viewers a taste of their best foot forward and try to get somebody like Liddell over with a new, large audience.
  • Dave says the Bob Sapp fight in K-1 that was talked about last week, in which Sapp basically mauled his opponent in such a way that he got DQ'd, was at least partially a work. Had it not been, Sapp would have been immediately fired, not given a rematch with the same opponent 6 weeks later. There's a pretty good chance that his opponent didn't know and that the people who ran in to separate them after the fight didn't know either, but Dave seems pretty confident that Sapp was instructed by someone higher up in K-1 to do what he did.
  • Rock's next movie, "Helldorado" is expected to film between September until around Christmas. WWE is hopeful Rock can make some appearances on TV during the those months in between filming dates, but that's going to be difficult to pull off (indeed, he never shows up during this time).
  • Speaking of Rock, he worked the Honalulu, HI house show over the weekend, which drew an easy sellout crowd, the first sellout for a house show in a long time. Due to Rock being on the card, tickets sold out in 2 hours and scalpers were making a ton of money. In fact, the show was such a big deal that a local radio station was giving away tickets for the craziest stunt fans could pull and 2 fans walked through downtown Honolulu completely naked in order to score tickets. Rock beat Jericho in the main event in a great match. It was WWE's first time there in 8 years (Dave corrects himself from before, when he said 14 years in a previous issue and someone here on Reddit called him out on it haha). Rock got a reaction like Antonio Inoki in Japan, he was basically a god in this city. A lot of his friends and family were there as well and backstage, Rock told people that the show was bigger to him than even his 4 Wrestlemania main events and called it the biggest night of his career. When talking about his grandfather, Rock got emotional and began crying and talked about his history promoting in Hawaii. Bruce Willis, for whatever reason, was in attendance, and during the match, they did an angle where Rock held Jericho for Willis to punch him which got a huge pop. Genichiro Tenryu and Motoko Baba were there as well, meeting with John Laurinaitis (Johnny Ace, who spent much of his career in AJPW). They were there to discuss doing business with WWE as well as to get some photo ops for the magazines back in Japan so they can get that WWE-rub. (Sure enough, here's an article from just a couple months ago where Rock says once again, to this day, that the match with Jericho in Hawaii was the most meaningful match of his career. I can't find any footage of the damn thing though, which is a shame).
WATCH: The Rock, in 2020, talks about the Hawaii match with Jericho being his most meaningful match
  • Notes from Raw: X-Pac lost in a King of the Ring qualifier match to RVD and Dave says it's a good thing nobody in WWE pays attention to their own storylines because just a week or two ago, the story was that if anyone in the NWO loses a match going forward, they're out of the group. But of course, that wasn't even acknowledged or remembered here. Raven lost to Jeff Hardy in 3 minutes and Dave's not sure that Raven made the right move by giving up his safe commentary job because they sure don't seem to see much in him as a wrestler. The "Molly Holly is fat" storyline continued because fuck this company. Lawler even tried to get a "She's a fat ass" chant going. Backstage, X-Pac was shown crying after his loss, "sort of like real life," Dave jokes. They teased Austin showing up by playing his music and having Eddie Guerrero and Chris Benoit come out instead. They did a thing with Jackie Gayda teasing her being on the WWE Lingerie Special that airs next week and had Vince hitting on her backstage, making it very apparent why she was chosen to win Tough Enough over the obvious most deserving finalist, Kenny. And in the main event, Nash and Shawn Michaels were on commentary burying the match, making fun of Jim Ross, etc. And of course, the show closed with Rock doing his surprise return and promo where he pretty much buried Austin for leaving.
WATCH: The Rock makes surprise return to Raw to bury Austin
  • Coming out of Raw, a TON of fans still seemed to think the Austin thing was an angle. Vince's first promo, which was a total shoot about Austin being gone, didn't get over that way, with most fans in the arena expecting an angle and waiting for him to show up. There were constant "We want Austin!" chants and many people that Dave has heard from even thought the Confidential episode was all a work.
  • Notes from Smackdown: all the mentions of Austin on commentary weren't done live during the show, but were later dubbed in. Mostly it was just an effort to plug the Confidential episode about him, and it was such a last minute decision to do that episode that they had to edit the plugs in after the show was taped. The wall of security guards in the ring during the Triple H/Undertaker contract signing was copying the same thing they did before the Tyson/Lewis fight because it's a pretty cool visual. Nidia is doing a hillbilly gimmick now. Hurricane seems to be dropping his gimmick and going back to Gregory Helms. Word is most of the agents hated the Hurricane character for whatever dumb reason.
  • Dave talks about the upcoming Hogan vs. Kurt Angle match at King of the Ring and is curious to see how it goes. He thinks the most likely ending is Vince costing Hogan the match and Angle pinning him, but he's curious to see if Hogan is really going to try to put Angle over or is it gonna be another Kidman situation. That being said, WWE is protecting Angle and there's serious talk of giving Angle a run as the top guy, in the wake of Austin and Rock leaving and Undertaker and Triple H being so banged up. The idea is to put the belt on Angle and have him take on all comers, heel and face, like an old-school Lou Thesz-type champion. Either way, this Hogan match is going to be a test of how good Angle is because if he can't carry Hogan to a good match, then no one can. It's also going to be a test of whether Hogan is really the team player he claims to be now (yeah Dave's gonna be shocked at how this one ends I bet).
  • At the latest WWE tapings in Atlanta, Dusty Rhodes was backstage visiting and introducing his 16-year-old son Cody Runnels to everyone. Cody has been training with his father to be a wrestler. Good luck kid.
  • Former 50s-80s promoter Jim Barnett was also backstage at Raw and since it was his birthday, the McMahons got him a cake and orchestrated everyone singing happy birthday to him. Barnett was there because he was just hired as a consultant, which is curious timing. Barnett hadn't been officially hired by TNA or anything, but he had agreed to appear at their debut show as part of an angle with old NWA champions. So when WWE swooped in this past week and hired him, it got a lot of people talking but Dave says there's nothing to it. If Vince McMahon was trying to poach people from TNA, he wouldn't start by hiring a 78-year-old guy to be a consultant.
  • The local FOX station in Los Angeles, like everyone else, covered the Steve Austin/Debra story on the "Good Day L.A." morning newscast. The story was presented as a big joke, even using the headline "Smackdown At Home." Well, one of the anchors, Jillian Barberie, refused to play along, presenting the story as the serious issue it is and afterwards, criticized the station's writing team live on the air, calling them low class for making light of a woman being beaten by her husband.
  • Random WWE news and notes: Bubba Ray Dudley missed the UK PPV and TV this week due to the death of his mother. Edge and Chris Jericho have joined Kurt Angle as part of the Get Tough on Angina campaign that Angle has already been doing commercials for. A commercial for Summerslam was filmed this week with a bunch of guys chasing Trish Stratus in an ice cream truck.
WATCH: Trish Stratus Summerslam 2002 ice cream truck commercial
  • Rey Mysterio made his WWE debut at a house show in San Diego, beating Chavo Guerrero. Mysterio was wearing his mask again and was said to be more impressive than anyone else on the show. The mask actually did come off by accident at one point though. Mysterio also looked substantially bigger than he did in WCW because, well, he's coming to WWE and you know how that goes.
NEXT WEDNESDAY: Bret Hart injured in bicycle accident, WWE re-hires Vince Russo, King of the Ring fallout, and more coverage of TNA's debut than you could ever possibly want, and a ton more...
submitted by daprice82 to SquaredCircle [link] [comments]

A history of the Peckham Boys - from the Giggs era to Zone 2/Hitsquad (Part 1)

Part 1 of the history of Peckham in south London. From the early Peckham Boys era to Zone 2.
Peckham is one of the most legendary ends in London, and probably had the biggest impact on UK Rap music from the 2000s onwards. The history of the Peckham Boys goes back decades, and everything posted here barely scratches the surface of their history.

Context

The Peckham Boys gang originated in the estates of Peckham (SE15), in the borough of Southwark.
A large area of Peckham - between the town centre and Burgess Park - is dominated by council estates (public housing complexes). The main cluster is called the 'Five Estates' and consists of the North Peckham Estate, Gloucester Grove Estate, Willowbrook Estate, Camden Estate and Sumner Estate:
Nearby are the Goldsmith Estate, Bells Gardens Estate (Yellow Brick), Acorn Estate, Friary Estate, Ledbury Estate, Southampton Way Estate and several others. The Peckham 'frontline' is the area around Peckham High Street, including local landmarks like Peckham Pulse and the Crackerjack store.
The estates of Peckham were notorious and suffered from problems like underinvestment, deprivation, unemployment and crime. The area was termed 'Vietnam' due to the level of violence there, which is the origin of the hood nickname 'Pecknarm' (Peckham + Vietnam).

1990s

Evolution of the Peckham Boys
Originally, several of the major Peckham estates had their own individual sets: the Peckham Grove Boys, the North Peckham Boys, the Gloucester Boys, the Yellow Brick Massive, the Outlaws and the Acorn Boys. The earliest sets date back to the 1970s, and are the origins of the Peckham Boys gang.
By the 1990s those sets had evolved, and the two main sets in Peckham were the Firehouse Crew and the Younger Peckham Boys - also known as Pecky Man Soldiers. Other groups of Peckham included the yardie sets the Sunrise Crew and the Spanglers. Collectively these sets were known as the 'Peckham Boys' . There was sometimes friction between the Peckham sets but it was never deep, and they were united whenever opposition tried to slide on Peckham territory.
Alliances and rivalries
Peckham's main war was with the Ghetto Boys, a gang headquartered in New Cross and controlling Lewisham borough. Their other major conflict was with Brixton. The decades-long Peckham v Ghetto and Peckham v Brixton conflicts were some of the longest and bloodiest gang wars that London has seen. Peckham's main allies were Dulwich (Circle Crew) and Walworth (Wooly Road), and they often used to roll as one.
Legendary members
YPB/PMS members included the boss Mad X, Tipsy, Timer, Splash, Joker, Titch, Timer, Rampage, Rage, Temps, Twitch and others. Firehouse Crew members included Rhymer, Mixer, Major, Beans, Breaker, Player, Skipper, Fame and many others. Peckham yardies included the likes of Kirk, Bigga and a bag of others. The Peckham-Circle linkup included names like Mad Danny and Big Lee, legends in both Peckham and Dulwich. It goes without saying that there's many more names from that era of Peckham legends.

Early 2000s

In the early 2000s the Peckham Boys had consolidated as a single gang and its sets were structured by age. The most active sets by now were:
Prominent PB members included Knuckles, Raver, X-Fighter, Crimer, Rocker, Giggler, Breaker, Glamour and many others. Prominent YPB members included Killa Ki, Diamond, Timmy, Tiny Ryder, Young Snap, Motion, Taz and many others. Below are very brief examples of what went down in Peckham during this period.

Peckham nightclub shootings
Peckham had been notorious for gang violence for decades, and this reputation continued into 2000s. National headlines were made in July 2000 when up to 9 people were shot outside the Chicago's nightclub on Peckham High Street:
Six months later, a man was shot dead in a double shooting outside the same nightclub:
The nightclub was shut down soon afterwards. Giggs refers to this nightclub in the 2007 track Greaziest Freestyle: "Don't think I'm coming here to rave if you see me 'round the back, big strap inside Chicagos"

Death of Damilola Taylor
Peckham made international headlines in November 2000 with the murder of Damilola Taylor, a 10-year old boy that lived on the North Peckham Estate. He was stabbed to death by two 16-year old brothers & members of the Untouchables, a small but old set within Peckham:
Nine days before Damilola's murder, a 17-year old guy was also stabbed to death on the North Peckham Estate:
The schoolboy murder, plus the general level of gang activity in the area, put a hard media focus on the amount of senseless violence in Peckham:

2003 Peckham Civil War
Even though the Peckham Boys and Ghetto Boys were involved in a multi-generational war, there were some instances of Peckham and Ghetto members that fw each other. The most prominent example at that time was Spender from Peckham (a younger brother of Giggler) and Younger Kraver from Ghetto (a younger brother of Kraver) - they used to roll together and make money. That type of association was rare though, as the two gangs remained at war with each other.
In 2003 the first 'civil war' in Peckham kicked off because the Peckham Boys were divided over the presence of Mender. Mender was from Lewisham sides but defected from the Ghetto Boys and started rolling with Peckham. Some YPB members trusted him and some didn't - claiming that he was still rolling with the Ghetto Boys and even robbed a Peckham member. This caused tension between Peckham members, including stabbings. In September 2003, Mender was stabbed to death while posted outside the Old Kent Road McDonald's by some YPB members:

Death of Tipsy
Peckham legend Tipsy was released from prison after doing 3 years of a 10 year sentence for firearms offences. Soon afterwards in July 2004 he was rammed off his motorcycle by gunmen on Camberwell High Street, who then stood over him and gave him five headshots. His murder remains unsolved to this day:

Shootout in the financial district
In October 2004 the Urban Music Awards was held at the Barbican Centre. Peckham Boys and Ghetto Boys members were local and had a shootout outside the venue, in which 18 shots were fired. This was the first ever shootout within London's 'Square Mile' financial district, one of the world's financial centres:

2005

The Peckham Boys were also known as Black Gang due to the gang's association with the colour black. From the mid-2000s, the main Peckham sets also began going by other aliases:

Giggs release from prison & first SN1 mixtape
In early 2005, SN1 member Giggler - now shortened to Giggs - was released from Brixton Prison after serving a couple years for firearm possession. He had dabbled in music in the past, but his jailtime made him determined to take music seriously. Not long afterwards, SN1 released their first project: the 'Bloody Raw' mixtape.
At this time Giggs took part in an SN1 block freestyle in Peckham for the Rap DVD. During the clip Giggs raps verses from the 'Bloody Raw' mixtape. The footage is famous for handguns being shown, and for Giggs not flinching when a handgun is fired:
In this era Giggs also released tracks on other people's mixtapes, a couple examples:
At a time when Grime was the dominant sound of music on the streets, Giggs's style was very different for its time.

Death of Ruthless
In August 2005, four YPB members aged between 14 and 16 - Bertz, Tiny Ryder, Timmy and Diamond - stormed a christening on the Wood Dene Estate in order to rob the attendees (and pay back a debt to Big Larry, a Peckham older). During the robbery Bertz shot his gun in the air, and a ricochet bullet hit a woman in the head killing her:
A couple of weeks later, Bertz ambushed Ruthless (an 18-year old high ranking female in Peckham) and stabbed her to death for disrespecting him. Bertz was given a 30-year prison sentence for the two murders. Ryder, Timmy and Diamond were given indeterminate manslaughter sentences for the christening incident, and were deported after their sentences:
Ruthless was a loved person in Peckham. In this 2006 cameraphone footage you can see young Peckham members pay their respects at her grave. In early 2008, Giggs released the 'Ruthless Freestyle' titled in her honour (but more on that track later).

2006

SN1 drop 'The Beginning' mixtape
In early 2006, Giggs and other SN1 members dropped the 'SN1: The Beginning' mixtape. This is the first mixtape in which production was handled by their in-house production team at Unit 10 Studios. Their dark sound would go on to have a large impact on the future of UK Rap. A few classics:
Another classic SN1/Unit 10 track from the same period:

Hot September for Ghetto v Peckham
In September 2006, a group of up to 40 Shoot Instant (YPB) members went on a rideout to the Woodpecker Estate in New Cross - the main Ghetto Boys block. A brother of Ghetto members Smiley and Kraver ended up getting shot and stabbed to death. Another man was attacked in nearby Deptford but survived:
That murder on Woodpecker remains unsolved, as did five other murders on the Woodpecker Estate within the past 5 years at the time (5 unsolved murders in 5 years on a single block - when people say the 2000s in London was hot, they aren't lying):

Ghetto v Peckham war causes Peckham schools to be evacuated
Later in September 2006, police received 'specific intelligence' that the Ghetto Boys would carry out drive-by shootings at Peckham schools at the end of the school day (in order to smoke YPB members as they left). Police decided to immediately evacuate Peckham Academy and Harris Girls Academy in the middle of the school day, before the plot could be carried out. The schools reopened in the following week:

Giggs drops the 'Hollow Grind' mixtape
In 2006, Giggs and brother Joe Grind dropped the 'Hollow Grind' mixtape. This is the first of four collaborative mixtapes that Giggs dropped between 2006 and 2009. The mixtape includes several classics:
SN1 and OTB (Wooly Road) collaborated on the track 'Up In The Shoobz', and released a music video for the song. The video was shown on Channel U (a channel for underground music videos) but was blocked from the mainstream channels like MTV Base:
By this time, Giggs and the SN1 movement had a buzz in the streets of London. Giggs was trying to make moves in the music industry but he was blackballed by radio and television (thanks to the police) because of his gang ties/content. He refused to water-down his content in order to blow. Giggs released his frustration on Hollow Grind in 'Fuck Da Industry':

Peckham Boys acknowledged by Time Out Magazine
In November 2006, Time Out magazine named the Peckham Boys as one of the 100 most influential people or organisations in London: Time Out Magazine - London's 100 top movers and shakers 2006
Time Out magazine is a major international publication, with a circulation of millions, so their inclusion of the Peckham Boys was a big deal. A good demonstration of how 'big' the Peckham Boys were, even in mainstream society.

2007

At this point, prominent members of Shoot Instant (YPB) included Snap Capone, Killa Ki, Nuttie, Butch, Blacks, Billy Da Kid, Taz, Prover, Tem, Capo, Ross etc.
Prominent members of PYG (YYPB) included Shocks, Tiny Boost, Young Spend, Young Lap, Jim Jones, Young Killa, Young Butch etc.
PYG members looked up to SI, and both sets looked up to the SN1 bosses. From 2007 onwards, SI and PYG started to become very active in music.

Deaths of Javarie Crighton and Michael Dosunmu
In February 2007, 21-year old Javarie Crighton and 15-year old Michael Dosunmu were murdered in internal Peckham dispute over money. Members of a group that had successfully pulled off bank robberies were arguing about the split of the proceeds. Michael Dosunmu was shot dead in his bed in a case of mistaken identity, the gunmen had meant to get his older brother (who they believe didn't give them their fair share):

Giggs drops the 'Hollowman Meetz Blade' mixtape
In early 2007, Giggs dropped the 'Hollowman Meetz Blade' mixtape in collaboration with Blade Brown. This mixtape continued to advance Giggs' buzz in the streets, and included several classic UK gang/rap tracks. The mixtape is considered a classic in the UK scene:
Sidebar: 'Hollow Meetz Blade' and 'Sink A Boat' were referenced by 67 in their 2016 track 'Lets Lurk': "Like Hollow Meetz Blade, manaman got guns that'll sink down a boat".

Peckham boss Raver jailed
In July 2007, Raver (SN1) was caught in possession of a Mac-10 submachine gun, 3 handguns, 2 silencers, 379 rounds of ammunition and thousands of pounds worth of drugs. Raver was a Peckham boss and very close to Giggs. Raver is referred to as "Carlton" in Giggs' lyrics. He received a minimum 10-year sentence:

Young Spend jailed for shooting
In October 2007, 14-year old member Young Spend (PYG) shot a man in Peckham for disrespecting him. He was convicted of attempted murder the following year and jailed on an indeterminate sentence:
Young Spend appeared in one track in 2007 before being arrested:

New Cross shootout changes UK legal history
In October 2007 there was a shootout widely reported involve Ghetto Boys and Peckham Boys members. During the shootout, a Polish nurse was hit by a stray bullet and died:
The police caught Ghetto member Toner - one participant in the shootout - but they didn't catch the person who actually fired the fatal shot. Toner did not snitch on the person he was having a shootout with. The Supreme Court of decided to convict Toner of murder as if he fired the fatal shot, even though he didn't. In English law, this landmark ruling is known as Regina v Armel Gnango
At the same time in SE London, the Woolwich Boys shot dead a man in his car - because he answered "Peckham" when they asked him where he's from:
In Greenwich Borough, Woolwich were beefing heavily with Thamesmead (allies of Peckham).

Shoot Instant & PYG drop the 'Blackgang Broadway Vol.1' mixtape
In 2007, Shoot Instant and their youngers PYG dropped their first project together: the 'Blackgang Broadway Vol.1' mixtape. With SN1 (Peckham bosses) making noise in the music game, this is the first time that their youngins made their mark. Two tracks from the mixtape:

Giggs drops the 'Ard Bodied' mixtape
In December 2007, Giggs (SN1) dropped the 'Ard Bodied' mixtape in collaboration with Dubz. The mixtape included 'Talking The Hardest' and 'Pain is the Essence', which are considered all-time UK anthems, alongside multiple hood classics. A selection of classic Ard Bodied tracks:
Ard Bodied is generally considered the most influential mixtape to drop in the UK scene. It was the first time that UK 'gang' rap (Road Rap) broke into the mainstream, and marked the shift in general popularity from Grime to UK Rap:
It's hard to underestimate the impact Ard Bodied had on the culture. It had youngins in every block wanting to rap that gang shit and rep their block through music. From this point, UK 'gang' rap (Road Rap) - the foundation of the UK Drill scene - started to take off in London.

2008

In 2008 the Shoot Instant set split into two branches:
S.I. and OPB moved as two different sets within the Peckham Boys, but they were all still brothers.

End of the Peckham Boys v Ghetto Boys war
For a few years the Ghetto Boys had undergone major internal divisions, including the murder of leader Sparkz in 2006 by another Ghetto member. These events caused a big shift in the street politics of South London, with Lewisham dividing and fighting amongst itself.
By 2008 the decades-long beef between the Peckham Boys and Ghetto Boys was over. The end of the beef was publicly 'announced' by Giggs when he dropped the 'Ruthless Freestyle' in early 2008:
That was a major moment in South London street history, with maybe the bloodiest gang war London has seen officially coming to a close. From that moment, it became safe to play Giggs's music publicly in Lewisham 😂

Giggs drops the 'Best of Giggs 2' compilation mixtape
In early 2008, Giggs released the 'Best of Giggs 2' mixtape. The mixtape is a compilation of classic Giggs verses from 2005-2007, alongside some new releases. The last track is one of Giggs' best freestyles:

Giggs is banned by police from Lil Wayne concert
The Metropolitan Police were determined to stop Giggs career in music. Despite being the hottest artist in the streets, venues weren't allowed to book him, and television & radio were pressured not to play his music.
In early 2008, Lil Wayne was arguably the hottest rapper in the world, and in March he had a headline concert in London. Giggs was booked as the opening act for Lil Wayne, and the sold-out crowd were there to see Giggs as much as they were to see Wayne. At the last minute, the police blocked Giggs from performing. The crowd was so angry that they started moving unruly. Lil Wayne was hit with a bottle and stormed off stage, cancelling the show. This footage making shockwaves around the rap world:
Giggs then addressed these incidents by releasing the freestyle 'Banned from Lil Wayne':

SI, OPB and PYG drop the 'Blackgang Broadway Vol.2' mixtape
In 2008, SI/OPB and PYG continued making movements in music, releasing the 'Blackgang Broadway Vol.2' mixtape. The mixtape included the classic track 'Gunshot Riddim', which included 8 Bar verses from 10 different members:
Two other music videos were made for tracks on the project:
In the summer Shoot Instant members released classic music video filmed on their block (Aylesbury Estate):

Peckham 'Gunshot Riddim' v Brixton 'Bullet Riddim'
With the war between Ghetto and Peckham over, the war between Brixton (OC/GAS) and Peckham (SI/PYG) started cracking in 2008.
That summer there were back-and-forth shootings between OC and SI members. In one incident, OC rode out on Walworth Road and caught Snap Capone (SI) and Butch (SI) slipping. Snap and Butch ran into the Costcutter store and OC shot at them from the outside, but ended up killing a civilian. That made big media headlines:
Not long afterwards, OC/GAS released a response track to SI/PYG - Gunshot Riddim in which OC members mocked Snap and Butch for running in the above incident: "remember what we flew in Wooly Road" ... "had you running in the shop like you're buying suttin" ... "my dargs only run when they see the riot van" (etc): OC/GAS - Bullet Riddim
Gunshot Riddim v Bullet Riddim was the start of the back-and-forth diss music videos between Brixton (OC/GAS) and Peckham (SI/PYG). Cracking on the streets and over Youtube. As I stated before, this era was the origins of what we now call the UK Drill scene.

SN1 and Boomblast release 'Welcome 2 Boomzville' mixtape
In the run-up to Giggs' debut album, SN1 released the 'Welcome 2 Boomzville' mixtape - entirely produced by SN1 producer Boomblast. The mixtape included various street classics:
SN1's allies OTB (Wooly Road) released their first project: the 'Woolyhood' mixtape:

Giggs releases his debut album
On 4 August 2008, Giggs released his debut album 'Walk In Da Park' through his independent label SN1 Records. The album cemented the rise of Giggs within the UK scene after his run of mixtapes (Hollow Grind, Hollow Meets Blade & Ard Bodied) made him king in the streets.

Ghetto Boys and Peckham Boys linkup
In August 2008, Killa Ki (OPB) arranged the linkup of Peckham Boys and Ghetto Boys members for the Notting Hill Carnival. Up to 180 members from both gangs linked up and started making their way to the carnival, but the police stopped them before they could reach it:
Killa Ki addressed the Ghetto-Peckham linkup in the track Krept & Konan feat. SI (Killa Ki, Snap Capone, Nuttie) - Let Em Ave It: "I organised Ghetto linking Narm, I made history. Darg I'm a boss in the Narm. It was a South East Link Up, anyhow we got Carni it would've been nuts"
The following video includes news reports and footage of the Ghetto-Peckham linkup:

Flying squad detain Peckham robbery members
It was previously mentioned that Javarie Crighton and Michael Dosunmu were murdered in 2007 during a dispute between members of the Peckham armed robbery team. In September 2008, the police arrested seven members of the gang, including the likes of Moaner.
Police suspected them of committing 120 robberies and called their criminal enterprise "prolific". It took 150 police officers to conduct the raids on the Peckham Boys and arrest 7 members:

Giggs becomes first ever winner of the 'Best International Act' at the BET Awards
In Autumn, Giggs was nominated for as 'Best International Act' at the BET Hip hop Awards alongside grime artists Skepta, Chip and Ghetts (much more established/mainstream artists):
Fans voted for the winner and Giggs won, becoming the first ever artist to win the 'Best International Act'. This was a big deal, because despite the police applying serious pressure to stop Giggs, he was still able to rise to the top. It was also another demonstration of the fall of Grime and the rise of UK Rap. Here's a video of Tim Westwood congratulating Giggs for the win:
Even though Giggs won the BET Award, when he came back to the UK the pressure applied by the police intensified. In frustration, Giggs released the 'Last Straw' freestyle in which he directly dissed Ray Paul (BBC executive) and Jasmine Dotwala (MTV executive):

Death of Termz
In October 2008, 20-year old SN1 member Termz was shot dead as he left his house by Brixton olders. This further heated up the Brixton and Peckham beef at the time:
Termz made one music video before his death:

Younger PYG members start releasing music
In late 2008, the younger generation of PYG members started releasing music videos. The young members included Tiny Snap, Young Size, M1, Stigs, CS and others. Most of the bars at this time were disses towards Brixton's OC (now 410) and GAS (now 150/GBG):

_______________________________________________________________

From 2009 onwards, the beef between Peckham (SI/PYG) and Brixton (OC/GAS) became the biggest story on roads and in the UK Rap scene. For the Brixton perspective, check The History of 410.
Part 1 is a demonstration of how Peckham gained the notorious reputation it has, and the environment that PYG and Zone 2 members grew up in. The next part covering the PYG and Zone 2 eras will drop in one week.
I'll cover Peckham from 2009-present in Part 2 - including what happened to SN1/SI/PYG members and the rise of the Zone 2 generation.
submitted by KeezyLDN to ukdrill [link] [comments]

The Short Trip

The Short Trip

It’s freezing and wet. I feel the cold stone under my fingers as I crouch around in the rocky darkness. Can’t find the exit.
I must have been here for hours. I haven’t done anything wrong, why doesn’t anyone help me?!
“Enjoy!” the man had said, and he was gone and so was his flashlight. Since then, I have tried to find the small gateway.
My battery is dying soon.
He led me in here so there needed to be an exit, right?
We had gone in, stretched out. I tried to explain it to him, tried to explain that I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had asked him many questions, though he didn’t care to answer most.
On and on we went inside the cliff-walls, dark and wet.
The water rose steady, first at the height of my knees, it reaches my chest now as I squat. The tunnel was long and narrow and after some time we had to crouch until our heads vanished under the liquid. I admit, I was afraid to drown until he pulled me up.
“Enjoy!” he had said, then he vanished. I am in a cave, it’s hard walls all around me.
It is so dark, I don’t see my own hands in front of my eyes. I don’t hear a thing but my own moves that make the water splash around me. Was there something? Fish? Did fish get in here? No. Still no exit.
The water is up at my nose when I try to sit and so I keep squatting in this dark wet hole.
No standing, no sitting, and lying down is even more out of the question. After a while I just leaned against the wall of the little cave.
Surely, there was something wrong. Surely, someone would come. Right? I drift off, to the conversation I had listened to for hours.
I was on a big boat.
It was big and there were several small lanterns scattered on its 1st deck. Tables everywhere, and guards and shackles.
The guards scared me. They wore grey uniforms and masks over their faces. Ski-masks and Halloween masks and masks of mutilated faces.
They just stood in silence at the railings. I had sat myself on a bench near a table that carried two chess boards when they put the irons on my wrists and neck. Four people sat around the table, until a fifth arrived, all of them in heavy irons, much as I.
“Just grab a chair boy,” said the Music-Man.
„What’s your story newbie?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
„What?”
„Your story!” said the Bald Man
„My story?”
„Yes!” hissed Mr. Creopopolus.
„Well, I guess my story isn’t that interesting,” said the young man with the red hair. “I am from Delft, you know? In the Netherlands. Boy we got so many beautiful cities to see, I always loved my country. Willem van Oranje was assassinated in my city, I think that’s what it is mostly known for, but I always thought my home a bit colorless, you know? Like the place deserved something bigger. More glamorous.”
They understood and nodded, and their chains rattled.
“Anyways,” the Dutchman kept going, “I was out on the streets at eighteen. My mother’s boyfriend and I didn’t get along, you know? He was a real asshole and so I was forced out. I slept a couple of days on the couch of my friend Rikke. Rikke was always so nice to me, such a kind soul. She had the most beautiful hair. Wait,” he said as he tried to reach his wallet in his jeans. “There we go! That’s her.”
The picture within showed a young woman in her late teens, hazel eyes and flaxen hair that were spread on her shoulders. She had a nice smile and good teeth.
“Rikke, she was a really good human being, you know? Honest to the bone but never mean of spiteful. Like some female Jesus.”
“I bet she was,” said the One-eyed Woman “A real treasure.”, she added sarcastically, for which she earned an angry stare from the Dutchman.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I was there on this big couch. Green leather, really uncozy I tell you. I couldn’t sleep though, too much rage in the head, you know? I thought of Rikke and how lovely she was. Really a sweet, sweet girl. I got up and went to her bedroom.
There she was, all tugged in within sheets and blankets. I lied down next to her and tried to touch her boobs. I touched and squeezed until she asked me to stop it goddamit I said.
You fucking tease I said, you know? She was really mad and ordered me to go back to the couch. Fucking couch as she ever would sleep there! Not proud of the next, or not about all of it. She screamed and I put my hand over her mouth.
Must have suffocated her, you know? She was just there so I took her again and again.”
“Lovely!” said Mr. Creopopolus, shaking up his hands, hitting himself in the face with his irons.
“You’re a real piece of sunshine, aren’t you?” asked the Bald Man, scratching his stubbled chin.
“I’m not proud,” lied the Dutchman. “But you know, taking a warm body, it has something good, can’t deny it. Rikke was only the first though. It felt so damn good to feel her, still warm, not rejecting me. I called my other friend Tamara.
Asked her: Hey can I couchsurf at your place? She was all in, the silly girl. I left Rikke and went to Tamara. Same play, nearly, though she put up a fight boy she did. You know? Scratched me good, here you see?” he asked as he pulled up his shirt.
The darkness surrounding us gave up space for the boat to bump against the rocky walls encroaching around it. I nearly fell from my bench when it shook us. There was a loud growl somewhere off. The water seemed wild.
“And then?” asked the Music-Man, twirling his thick moustache.
“Then? Well I did the same. I took her head though cause she had sad eyes. Didn’t want to leave her there.
I put it in one of her shopping-bags and went outside. It poured like hell and I called my friend Mira.”
“Got a lot of female friends?” asked the Bald Man.
“Yeah. I asked her the same and when I arrived, I showed her the head. The bitch started screaming like a fucked goat, so I hit her over the head. I tied her up really good.
When she came back, I had lain out all the knives in her kitchen and let her choose. She declined every single one of them! So, I took the one I liked the most and started carving. Nothing too complicated, really.
Took her breasts and her honeypot and put them in the bag with Tamara’s head. I used her mouth couple of times and went outside.
Can’t remember when she became an angel though. Someone must have called them, cause police was all around. I didn’t give up though charged right at them but you know, don’t bring a knife to a gunfight I guess.”
The table chuckled and their chains rattled.
“Then,” he continued “I woke up here at the table. They must have stitched me up really good.”
“They do,” said the One-eyed Woman, raising her eyebrows in certain uncertainty.
“So, no trial for us, hm?” asked the Music-Man.
“Nope.”
“Sounds not right,” I said. “Isn’t that illegal?”
“Shut up, bencher!” said the Bald Man.
“I haven’t done anything!” I insisted, as the Bald Man called for a guard which hit me over the head.
“What’s your story?” asked the Dutchman.
“Mine?” replied the Bald Man. “Well,” he said, “mine is better than yours, in its own way, I guess.”
“Here comes the showman,” said the Music-Man. “Now, please let us in to the devious devouring of your urging mind.”
“Sure,” started the Bald Man. “My name is Henry Ringler and I was born in 1961 in Güthestaadt, Belgium. I was a teacher once but when my uncle Reinhard died, I was able to settle.
You know, uncle Reini, as we called him, was stockbroker and filthy rich. I was his sole beneficiary, so I bought a huge plot of land in the countryside. I liked it quiet. A man needs privacy. At first, I would often visit the city though, visit and enjoy myself with some ladies if you know what I mean.”
The Music-Man and the Dutchman laughed, as Mr. Creopopolus chuckled to himself and the One-Eyed Woman frowned. Their chains rattled.
“Soon that wasn’t enough. My parents hated animals, even talked me out of becoming a vet, can you imagine? I bought a bunch of dogs, didn’t want to be alone outside there in the countryside, “ he said, as a big wave hit the side of our boat and threw over the unused figures on the chessboards.
“I bought the dogs and took care. I was happy for some time. Then I felt lonely again. You don’t believe how easy it us to get your hands on one you know? How they totally submit but never resist. I got fascinated with all kinds of shit, Kaspar Hauser and that crap.
Somehow, I wanted a human next to me, but it shouldn’t act like a human. I knew this needed planning, so I built a big dog kennel and bought some nice puppies, and then I went hunting.” The Bald Man grinned like a badger.
“Hunting what?” asked Mr. Creopopolus, leaning himself on the table with a bored expression on his face.
“Longpig of course,” he chuckled. “Mostly, they were poor as dirt. Lived outside in some run-down farmhouse. I went in around 3:00 a.m. and doused them in chloroform.
Then, I just grabbed the baby from its crib and went back home. Wasn’t easy to take care of a baby at first. But I always told myself ,Just a couple of years Heinrich, just a couple of years’ so when she was 4 I let her out to the others.
My parents were happy that I was some bigass surgeon, back then when we still talked and they could show off with me.
So now, finally, my skill was usable. I cut her sinews, cut her fingers near the palms and made her a nice little puppy.” The Bald Man chuckled.
“That’s disgusting!” said the One-eyed woman.
“Fuck you woman! Come over here and I show you!” the Bald Man shouted, as he jumped from his chair.
“Calm down everyone!” said Mr. Creopopolus, jumping from his place and stretching his hands towards both sides, as far as his cuffs allowed.
After the mood had calmed in the sounds of the water splashing against the sides of the boat, the Bald Man continued.
“You see, it was not easy. I knew it was wrong, but it was all I wanted. Over time I made her, better. Filed her teeth, lots of tattoos to make her a really good little dalmatian.”
“What was her name?” asked the Dutchman.
“Puppy. She was my little precious puppy, that what she was. Needed no other name.”
“Bet you fucked her good!” laughed the Music-Man.
“The fuck I did,” screamed the Bald Man. “She was my little puppy! I took care of her when she was ill. I tattooed every single spot on her skin myself and filed her teeth sharp. That good little girl she was. Only a sick fuck like you could come up with something so horrible.”
The whole table laughed, and some guards did too. Chains rattled aloud.
“What’s so funny about that?” asked the Bald Man in anger.
“You really ask that?” inquired the Music-Man, twirling his thick moustache. “This was all over the news. She’s now in some sort of asylum. Her parents committed suicide when they found out. The mum was on the news, said even the uncertainty was better than that.
Can you imagine? Most people say the fucking uncertainty is the worst, rather want to know if they girls and boys got raped and burned alive and so shit. But Mrs. kidnapped puppy, she says it was better. Funny fucking world it is.” He spat on the floor.
“Yes,” smiled the Bald Man “really nice.”
“Well honey,” purred the One-eyed Woman “you’re a sick fuck. Simple as that.”
“Who are you to judge me?” screamed the Bald Man pushing back his chair, drawing eyes from other tables and some from the other benchers. His irons hit the table, together with his fist.
“You don’t want to know,” said the One-Eyed Woman.
“I do,” said the Dutchman “I really want to.”
There was wailing coming from the other tables. A figure, a shadow in the darkness walking around. People got up at the other tables and pushed the shadow around.
He tumbled on until he came near us. It was a monk and he was pale and gaunt. His eyes looked mad.
“Vergessen, vergessen. Sie haben mich vergessen!“ he shouted.
The Bald Man and the Music-Man got up and pushed him away.
“Die Kinder, die lieben Kinder!“ he shouted as he tumbled off.
We all laughed and our chains rattled.
“Please,” said Mr. Creopopolus astute. “Go on my dear.”
“My story starts 35 years ago. I was born, you know, I think you don’t want to know this,” she said, glancing towards the Bald Man. “I believe you just want the juicy details.” She winked.
“Sounds about right.” said the Music-Man, smiling.
“I always loved to torture things,” she gazed at the Dutchman. “I loved to stroll around the countryside picking up hurt animals, taking them home. I always pretended to help them, make them feel better. ,Such a kind girl’ said my father when I did so for the first time. They thought I was their little angel.
I did this for years, hiding my true self. I got a husband, two kids, my little darlings.” She started to cry.
“Take your time, dear,” said Mr. Creopopolus as he handed her a tissue.
“Thanks,” she replied, drying her tears. “I hope they are okay. I hid myself so long, so long, I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.”
She teared up again while Mr. Creopopolus put his hand gently on her shoulder and petted her like a sad child.
“One day, one day and it was gone. We had done all we could, after college Harry, my husband, he was hired by a bank and I, I worked as a cashier.
So I could be there for the kids you know?” she said, waiting for the smiles all around to vanish. “You can laugh all you want, but having people shit all over you, it ain’t easy.
I was at the store and home, kids and customers, all crying about their needs and their wants and their wishes. Always bothering me and then, one day, I had dropped them off at school, there was this boy, not much older than my own, and he was all alone.
None of the other kids nearby he ran cause he knew he was late. I slowed down and asked him if he wanted me to pick him up and bring him there.
He was a bit hesitant, I bet he wouldn’t have gotten on the car with any of you, but he did with me. He got in the car, but I drove straight past school, yes Sir, straight past the school. ,What you doing?’ he said, in his annoying baby-voice. I drove him to my place, pulled him in after me.
He kicked and screamed but I was beyond caring.
I just had to do it. I slapped him hard on the face several times. ,Momma! Momma!’ he cried. I slapped and slapped and then I held him and got the tape and made a really nice mummy out of him, cut his clothes and then just rolled him in. He wiggled and shook around until I made a hole for his mouth to breath, put the pen through the tape with a pen, my husband always brought those damn fucking pens from the hotels, where he fucked his whores. And then, then it just happened.
I got out the iron, even did some clothes before it got the right temp, and then I pressed it on his little chubby belly.
God those were screams, was afraid some neighbors heard them, back as my sense kicked in I guess, through the tape I heard it shrill and sharp and I shout ,Shut it shut it shut it’ and press it all over his body like I would tickle one of my boys. The worst though was his little lips, burned them till they looked like white bubbles. Took me hours, all day believe me. Put his corpse in the freezer and two days later they showed up.
I took a knife, I really didn’t want to hurt any of them, they just doing their jobs you know? Took a knife to off myself in the bathtub really classy and all, but the bastards just shot me. Shot me right in the head! Yes Sir, right in the head.”
“Not through the eye, right?” asked the Music-Man.
“Why you asking?” she replied, “not that I would know. Woke up here, right onto the death row.”
“Are we sure of that, my dear?” asked Mr. Creopopolus, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“I am not. Not at all,” said I.
“Shut up, bencher!” screamed one of the guards nearby, charging at me and hitting me with a big white club, his eyes in anger and the symbol, like a twisted cross on his head, in wrinkles.
“I haven’t done anything! You need to believe me!” I pleaded. He hit me again. The five on the table laughed and their irons rattled.
“Where else would we go?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
“What the hell would I know?” said the Dutchman.
“Need to kill the time,” insisted the Bald Man.
“What’s your story?” asked the One-eyed Woman, towards the Music-Man.
“Lady, you got kids. You don’t want to know,” he answered, twirling his thick moustache.
“Yes, I do.” I said.
“Goddamit! Shut it bencher!” screeched Mr. Creopopolus and threw a chess figure at me that hit my head. It hurt.
“No, you don’t. You just snapped one day. Don’t as bad as we others here,” said the Music-Man and gave me a bad glance. “We are the scum of the earth as far as I can tell, you just had a moment of thought we all had every single day of our lives.”
“Amen!” said the Dutchman.
“I didn’t. I knew what I did. All this darkness was just inside me in my stomach or wherever,” said the One-eyed Woman.
“Wherever your husband couldn’t fuck you, I bet.” The Bald Man grinned and laughed and all, but the One-eyed Woman laughed loud until the Twisted Cross Guard came and hit them all, with his club.
He stared and hit me too though I had done nothing. We all shook and our chains rattled.
“So, what did you do? Just want to know, you know?” said the Dutchman.
“Alrighty almighty,” said the Music-Man. “I was born in England in 84. Had two loving parents, may God hold them dear. Church though, church. Went there every Sunday.
Every single one. Mum and Dad didn’t even believe the shit they tell you there themselves. Every fucking Sunday the same wizard spells.”
“Jeez, calm down. Don’t want to hear all about your life. Just your story, you know? Your actual story, man.” said the Dutchman and scratched his red hair.
“Fair enough. They put me in that hospital when I was 14 or 15. Was there for the next couple years until I was, I guess 30? Doesn’t matter, just the story, right?
So, I was out, Dad and Mum both in the grave and my brother didn’t care shit about me. Just thought I would waltz in back in my happy family. Didn’t happen. Found him, he offered me money, but I didn’t want not shit money just my family, you know what I mean?”
All nodded, rattling with their chains.
“Larry, that prick, huh, I hit him right in the face, forced myself in his home, riddled it with my fists and teeth.
His wife is all screaming ,Don’t hurt us! Don’t hurt us!’ I force them in the corner cause I got a big damn knife and a big damn dick and tie them up nice as cake.
So Larry he goes on ,Don’t hurt them! Let us go!’ and I say ,Sure’ and the fun begins then. Grab my knife and his wife and in front of the whole family gathering I strip her naked like Sister Eve and have her on her knees. I scalp her really slowly, like slo-mo-tion and they all shout and go on ,No, No, Mummy, Mummy’ and she tries to get away but hell no I don’t let her not with me.
Carver her up good and nice, sweet as a cake and grab some wire I rip out from the TV – who the fuck has a TV anyways today?
From what I saw, none. It is none. I tie her hands and slow and nice I cut them off she screams and wails and shakes like a maniac, like an idiot. And they are all ,No oh no!’ and her scalp – still some part on the head – goes up and done and up and I tear it off like from a wound and she goes sleepy and just lies there. Go over here, fair and square, and slit her throat.
Got a bit, how should I say, got a bit more creative with the rest of them and carve them up, slice and dice. Boys got skinned, brother watches, boys got smothered, still watches.
They tried to put up a fight but I don’t like that so I cut the elders fingers off, one by one.
The idiots thought I would stop with one. Damn idiots. Just for fun I do the other to the brother, mine cries like a baby, never did the same for me though.
Cut off his nose then and pull out his teeth and he sleeps there just fucking sleeping. Police then tell me they bled to death you know, but I didn’t kill them, right?
Didn’t do it. They just slept through all of it. Make a fine nice rope in my cell and the fuckers revive me and sent me here with alls of you all.” he said, as we all stared and shivered in the cold wind.
“So why did you do it?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
“Why? I tell you why. Was a prick that fucking cunt, and his wife too. Children seemed nice enough though.”
“No,” she shook her head, “why did you record it all?”
“How you know?” he asked.
“They said that you did so on the TV.”
“Why not?” countered the Music-Man, and they all agreed, and the Music-Man twirled his thick moustache in pride.
“Huh,” I said, everyone fixing their eyes on me, like buzzards on a mouse. “You don’t think it’s funny we are all one big ass boat in the night?”
“Shut up bencher!” shouted the whole table, their chains rattling in unison.
“It’s not night.” said Mr. Creopopolus.
“What else you think it is?” asked the Bald Man, angrily.
“Not night?” asked the Music-Man, staring above.
“No stars.” Mr. Creopopolus insisted.
“What’s your story?” I asked towards him.
“Already told it too often,” he answered with a proud smile “and you wouldn’t like it.”
“Can’t be worse than these guys.” I countered. They all started to shout at me until the Twisted Cross Guard came and hit me.
“We got rights!” exclaimed the One-eyed Woman.
“You do?” mocked the Twisted Cross Guard.
“We can talk to the captain. You have to let us through,” said Mr. Creopopolus. “I heard it at the other table.”
“I’m innocent,” said I. “You have to believe me!”
“Jesus,” squirmed Twisted Cross Guard in anger. “Fine, let’s go.”
He untied me and led me towards the back of the boat.
The boat stretched endlessly into the night, or non-night, and Mr. Creopopolus shouted from behind that the captain’s name was Charlie.
“Don’t drop the soap!” mocked the Dutchman and all their teeth rattled.
We went on for what must have been like hours? Who builds such big ass boats?
Then, I saw him behind the steering-wheel, old and worn and wrinkled. He motioned for Twisted Cross Guard to bring me close.
“This will never stop will it?” the Captain asked, as we bumped into something in the black water, causing a roar from deep down.
“Are you Captain Charlie?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “Charlie is the lovely fellow here,” he gestured towards Twisted Cross Guard. “I’m Captain Charry. And you go to land now.”
“No,” I pleaded to him, “this is all a big mistake. I didn’t do anything wrong. Please, you need to listen to…”
“I don’t need to do anything, boy!” he spat at me, as hands grabbed me from behind.
Twisted Cross Guard led me towards the plank that was laid out to the landside, several of us marching over it, hoping to feel their feet on land and to walk out of this nightmare.
It was no land though, just water high to our knees, other guards were waiting, their faces all full of hate and scars.
One called my name and I trotted towards him, my irons splashing through the black liquid surrounding us all.
It is so cold now, I don’t feel my thumbs. How long have I been here? Surely, there was some mistake, they couldn’t do that to us. I didn’t do anything wrong.
I was a good person with a good life. I was destined for more, for greatness.
My thoughts wander back to my last day in freedom, before dark water and dark light. I just had met Stignatz a few months ago, and had become his apprentice.
He was a great artist. We had found some common tastes and went hunting, when the old man fired his rifle, I remember it all so clearly, me lying on the ground, Stignatz running away, that coward.
As soon as I find my way out of here, I will visit him and his lovely Rose, that bitch.
I remember what happened before. Stignatz was a strong man but weary from work. He had built an obelisk.
His hands shook with every move, his limbs fell limp. Pulling concrete, fat and hard, all day long, now he felt weak. He bent down.
First got his trousers on. He was looking forward to dinner. Surely, the kids would sleep already and Rosie tired as ever. It was hard business but raw and honest and he liked it.
He could have done better but a pat on the back wouldn't hurt. He filled his used lungs with the air and savored the glory of the moment. One day, one day all would know him.
The great artist Stignatz they would say, he once lived there with his god-warrior apprentice. My installations were young and brute but there was plenty time to fix that, he assured me.
Just don't get cocky, he said as he noticed a mark on my part of the obelisk. Black and long it twisted on our craft. A moment's notice I was about to tear it off.
He was smart. Those blue uniforms in their fancy caps would need months to find our work without a clue. He went forward, every step a drag.
He cradled the strain of black hair like a hurt kitten, I told him to stop it and we marched on, silently in the light of the rising.
Hush-hush. He turned and tumbled away. Can't let Rosie wait. Somehow, we started to argue then and he punched me and my head hit on the wall.
My last thoughts were of the girl in the metal and stone and how she would scream. Our art was not to her taste.
It was to mine though.
They would never find the others. Soon I’m out here, soon. My nails must be bloody now, they hurt like shit. Soon. I am out. I will be out.
Dark water and cold and no light cannot hold me. There has to be an exit somewhere. Do these chains rust? Sure, they do! They must! Soon. What was that? Is there something in there? Some fish? I’m so hungry. Hello? Is there something? Someone? Anyone?
submitted by novel_antle to Odd_directions [link] [comments]

The Shortest Trip


It’s freezing and wet. I feel the cold stone under my fingers as I crouch around in the rocky darkness. Can’t find the exit.
I must have been here for hours. I haven’t done anything wrong, why doesn’t anyone help me?!
“Enjoy!” the man had said, and he was gone and so was his flashlight. Since then, I have tried to find the small gateway.
My battery is dying soon.
He led me in here so there needed to be an exit, right?
We had gone in, stretched out. I tried to explain it to him, tried to explain that I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had asked him many questions, though he didn’t care to answer most.
On and on we went inside the cliff-walls, dark and wet.
The water rose steady, first at the height of my knees, it reaches my chest now as I squat. The tunnel was long and narrow and after some time we had to crouch until our heads vanished under the liquid. I admit, I was afraid to drown until he pulled me up.
“Enjoy!” he had said, then he vanished. I am in a cave, it’s hard walls all around me.
It is so dark, I don’t see my own hands in front of my eyes. I don’t hear a thing but my own moves that make the water splash around me. Was there something? Fish? Did fish get in here? No. Still no exit.
The water is up at my nose when I try to sit and so I keep squatting in this dark wet hole.
No standing, no sitting, and lying down is even more out of the question. After a while I just leaned against the wall of the little cave.
Surely, there was something wrong. Surely, someone would come. Right? I drift off, to the conversation I had listened to for hours.
I was on a big boat.
It was big and there were several small lanterns scattered on its 1st deck. Tables everywhere, and guards and shackles.
The guards scared me. They wore grey uniforms and masks over their faces. Ski-masks and Halloween masks and masks of mutilated faces.
They just stood in silence at the railings. I had sat myself on a bench near a table that carried two chess boards when they put the irons on my wrists and neck. Four people sat around the table, until a fifth arrived, all of them in heavy irons, much as I.
“Just grab a chair boy,” said the Music-Man.
„What’s your story newbie?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
„What?”
„Your story!” said the Bald Man
„My story?”
„Yes!” hissed Mr. Creopopolus.
„Well, I guess my story isn’t that interesting,” said the young man with the red hair. “I am from Delft, you know? In the Netherlands. Boy we got so many beautiful cities to see, I always loved my country. Willem van Oranje was assassinated in my city, I think that’s what it is mostly known for, but I always thought my home a bit colorless, you know? Like the place deserved something bigger. More glamorous.”
They understood and nodded, and their chains rattled.
“Anyways,” the Dutchman kept going, “I was out on the streets at eighteen. My mother’s boyfriend and I didn’t get along, you know? He was a real asshole and so I was forced out. I slept a couple of days on the couch of my friend Rikke. Rikke was always so nice to me, such a kind soul. She had the most beautiful hair. Wait,” he said as he tried to reach his wallet in his jeans. “There we go! That’s her.”
The picture within showed a young woman in her late teens, hazel eyes and flaxen hair that were spread on her shoulders. She had a nice smile and good teeth.
“Rikke, she was a really good human being, you know? Honest to the bone but never mean of spiteful. Like some female Jesus.”
“I bet she was,” said the One-eyed Woman “A real treasure.”, she added sarcastically, for which she earned an angry stare from the Dutchman.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I was there on this big couch. Green leather, really uncozy I tell you. I couldn’t sleep though, too much rage in the head, you know? I thought of Rikke and how lovely she was. Really a sweet, sweet girl. I got up and went to her bedroom.
There she was, all tugged in within sheets and blankets. I lied down next to her and tried to touch her boobs. I touched and squeezed until she asked me to stop it goddamit I said.
You fucking tease I said, you know? She was really mad and ordered me to go back to the couch. Fucking couch as she ever would sleep there! Not proud of the next, or not about all of it. She screamed and I put my hand over her mouth.
Must have suffocated her, you know? She was just there so I took her again and again.”
“Lovely!” said Mr. Creopopolus, shaking up his hands, hitting himself in the face with his irons.
“You’re a real piece of sunshine, aren’t you?” asked the Bald Man, scratching his stubbled chin.
“I’m not proud,” lied the Dutchman. “But you know, taking a warm body, it has something good, can’t deny it. Rikke was only the first though. It felt so damn good to feel her, still warm, not rejecting me. I called my other friend Tamara.
Asked her: Hey can I couchsurf at your place? She was all in, the silly girl. I left Rikke and went to Tamara. Same play, nearly, though she put up a fight boy she did. You know? Scratched me good, here you see?” he asked as he pulled up his shirt.
The darkness surrounding us gave up space for the boat to bump against the rocky walls encroaching around it. I nearly fell from my bench when it shook us. There was a loud growl somewhere off. The water seemed wild.
“And then?” asked the Music-Man, twirling his thick moustache.
“Then? Well I did the same. I took her head though cause she had sad eyes. Didn’t want to leave her there.
I put it in one of her shopping-bags and went outside. It poured like hell and I called my friend Mira.”
“Got a lot of female friends?” asked the Bald Man.
“Yeah. I asked her the same and when I arrived, I showed her the head. The bitch started screaming like a fucked goat, so I hit her over the head. I tied her up really good.
When she came back, I had lain out all the knives in her kitchen and let her choose. She declined every single one of them! So, I took the one I liked the most and started carving. Nothing too complicated, really.
Took her breasts and her honeypot and put them in the bag with Tamara’s head. I used her mouth couple of times and went outside.
Can’t remember when she became an angel though. Someone must have called them, cause police was all around. I didn’t give up though charged right at them but you know, don’t bring a knife to a gunfight I guess.”
The table chuckled and their chains rattled.
“Then,” he continued “I woke up here at the table. They must have stitched me up really good.”
“They do,” said the One-eyed Woman, raising her eyebrows in certain uncertainty.
“So, no trial for us, hm?” asked the Music-Man.
“Nope.”
“Sounds not right,” I said. “Isn’t that illegal?”
“Shut up, bencher!” said the Bald Man.
“I haven’t done anything!” I insisted, as the Bald Man called for a guard which hit me over the head.
“What’s your story?” asked the Dutchman.
“Mine?” replied the Bald Man. “Well,” he said, “mine is better than yours, in its own way, I guess.”
“Here comes the showman,” said the Music-Man. “Now, please let us in to the devious devouring of your urging mind.”
“Sure,” started the Bald Man. “My name is Henry Ringler and I was born in 1961 in Güthestaadt, Belgium. I was a teacher once but when my uncle Reinhard died, I was able to settle.
You know, uncle Reini, as we called him, was stockbroker and filthy rich. I was his sole beneficiary, so I bought a huge plot of land in the countryside. I liked it quiet. A man needs privacy. At first, I would often visit the city though, visit and enjoy myself with some ladies if you know what I mean.”
The Music-Man and the Dutchman laughed, as Mr. Creopopolus chuckled to himself and the One-Eyed Woman frowned. Their chains rattled.
“Soon that wasn’t enough. My parents hated animals, even talked me out of becoming a vet, can you imagine? I bought a bunch of dogs, didn’t want to be alone outside there in the countryside, “ he said, as a big wave hit the side of our boat and threw over the unused figures on the chessboards.
“I bought the dogs and took care. I was happy for some time. Then I felt lonely again. You don’t believe how easy it us to get your hands on one you know? How they totally submit but never resist. I got fascinated with all kinds of shit, Kaspar Hauser and that crap.
Somehow, I wanted a human next to me, but it shouldn’t act like a human. I knew this needed planning, so I built a big dog kennel and bought some nice puppies, and then I went hunting.” The Bald Man grinned like a badger.
“Hunting what?” asked Mr. Creopopolus, leaning himself on the table with a bored expression on his face.
“Longpig of course,” he chuckled. “Mostly, they were poor as dirt. Lived outside in some run-down farmhouse. I went in around 3:00 a.m. and doused them in chloroform.
Then, I just grabbed the baby from its crib and went back home. Wasn’t easy to take care of a baby at first. But I always told myself ,Just a couple of years Heinrich, just a couple of years’ so when she was 4 I let her out to the others.
My parents were happy that I was some bigass surgeon, back then when we still talked and they could show off with me.
So now, finally, my skill was usable. I cut her sinews, cut her fingers near the palms and made her a nice little puppy.” The Bald Man chuckled.
“That’s disgusting!” said the One-eyed woman.
“Fuck you woman! Come over here and I show you!” the Bald Man shouted, as he jumped from his chair.
“Calm down everyone!” said Mr. Creopopolus, jumping from his place and stretching his hands towards both sides, as far as his cuffs allowed.
After the mood had calmed in the sounds of the water splashing against the sides of the boat, the Bald Man continued.
“You see, it was not easy. I knew it was wrong, but it was all I wanted. Over time I made her, better. Filed her teeth, lots of tattoos to make her a really good little dalmatian.”
“What was her name?” asked the Dutchman.
“Puppy. She was my little precious puppy, that what she was. Needed no other name.”
“Bet you fucked her good!” laughed the Music-Man.
“The fuck I did,” screamed the Bald Man. “She was my little puppy! I took care of her when she was ill. I tattooed every single spot on her skin myself and filed her teeth sharp. That good little girl she was. Only a sick fuck like you could come up with something so horrible.”
The whole table laughed, and some guards did too. Chains rattled aloud.
“What’s so funny about that?” asked the Bald Man in anger.
“You really ask that?” inquired the Music-Man, twirling his thick moustache. “This was all over the news. She’s now in some sort of asylum. Her parents committed suicide when they found out. The mum was on the news, said even the uncertainty was better than that.
Can you imagine? Most people say the fucking uncertainty is the worst, rather want to know if they girls and boys got raped and burned alive and so shit. But Mrs. kidnapped puppy, she says it was better. Funny fucking world it is.” He spat on the floor.
“Yes,” smiled the Bald Man “really nice.”
“Well honey,” purred the One-eyed Woman “you’re a sick fuck. Simple as that.”
“Who are you to judge me?” screamed the Bald Man pushing back his chair, drawing eyes from other tables and some from the other benchers. His irons hit the table, together with his fist.
“You don’t want to know,” said the One-Eyed Woman.
“I do,” said the Dutchman “I really want to.”
There was wailing coming from the other tables. A figure, a shadow in the darkness walking around. People got up at the other tables and pushed the shadow around.
He tumbled on until he came near us. It was a monk and he was pale and gaunt. His eyes looked mad.
“Vergessen, vergessen. Sie haben mich vergessen!“ he shouted.
The Bald Man and the Music-Man got up and pushed him away.
“Die Kinder, die lieben Kinder!“ he shouted as he tumbled off.
We all laughed and our chains rattled.
“Please,” said Mr. Creopopolus astute. “Go on my dear.”
“My story starts 35 years ago. I was born, you know, I think you don’t want to know this,” she said, glancing towards the Bald Man. “I believe you just want the juicy details.” She winked.
“Sounds about right.” said the Music-Man, smiling.
“I always loved to torture things,” she gazed at the Dutchman. “I loved to stroll around the countryside picking up hurt animals, taking them home. I always pretended to help them, make them feel better. ,Such a kind girl’ said my father when I did so for the first time. They thought I was their little angel.
I did this for years, hiding my true self. I got a husband, two kids, my little darlings.” She started to cry.
“Take your time, dear,” said Mr. Creopopolus as he handed her a tissue.
“Thanks,” she replied, drying her tears. “I hope they are okay. I hid myself so long, so long, I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.”
She teared up again while Mr. Creopopolus put his hand gently on her shoulder and petted her like a sad child.
“One day, one day and it was gone. We had done all we could, after college Harry, my husband, he was hired by a bank and I, I worked as a cashier.
So I could be there for the kids you know?” she said, waiting for the smiles all around to vanish. “You can laugh all you want, but having people shit all over you, it ain’t easy.
I was at the store and home, kids and customers, all crying about their needs and their wants and their wishes. Always bothering me and then, one day, I had dropped them off at school, there was this boy, not much older than my own, and he was all alone.
None of the other kids nearby he ran cause he knew he was late. I slowed down and asked him if he wanted me to pick him up and bring him there.
He was a bit hesitant, I bet he wouldn’t have gotten on the car with any of you, but he did with me. He got in the car, but I drove straight past school, yes Sir, straight past the school. ,What you doing?’ he said, in his annoying baby-voice. I drove him to my place, pulled him in after me.
He kicked and screamed but I was beyond caring.
I just had to do it. I slapped him hard on the face several times. ,Momma! Momma!’ he cried. I slapped and slapped and then I held him and got the tape and made a really nice mummy out of him, cut his clothes and then just rolled him in. He wiggled and shook around until I made a hole for his mouth to breath, put the pen through the tape with a pen, my husband always brought those damn fucking pens from the hotels, where he fucked his whores. And then, then it just happened.
I got out the iron, even did some clothes before it got the right temp, and then I pressed it on his little chubby belly.
God those were screams, was afraid some neighbors heard them, back as my sense kicked in I guess, through the tape I heard it shrill and sharp and I shout ,Shut it shut it shut it’ and press it all over his body like I would tickle one of my boys. The worst though was his little lips, burned them till they looked like white bubbles. Took me hours, all day believe me. Put his corpse in the freezer and two days later they showed up.
I took a knife, I really didn’t want to hurt any of them, they just doing their jobs you know? Took a knife to off myself in the bathtub really classy and all, but the bastards just shot me. Shot me right in the head! Yes Sir, right in the head.”
“Not through the eye, right?” asked the Music-Man.
“Why you asking?” she replied, “not that I would know. Woke up here, right onto the death row.”
“Are we sure of that, my dear?” asked Mr. Creopopolus, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“I am not. Not at all,” said I.
“Shut up, bencher!” screamed one of the guards nearby, charging at me and hitting me with a big white club, his eyes in anger and the symbol, like a twisted cross on his head, in wrinkles.
“I haven’t done anything! You need to believe me!” I pleaded. He hit me again. The five on the table laughed and their irons rattled.
“Where else would we go?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
“What the hell would I know?” said the Dutchman.
“Need to kill the time,” insisted the Bald Man.
“What’s your story?” asked the One-eyed Woman, towards the Music-Man.
“Lady, you got kids. You don’t want to know,” he answered, twirling his thick moustache.
“Yes, I do.” I said.
“Goddamit! Shut it bencher!” screeched Mr. Creopopolus and threw a chess figure at me that hit my head. It hurt.
“No, you don’t. You just snapped one day. Don’t as bad as we others here,” said the Music-Man and gave me a bad glance. “We are the scum of the earth as far as I can tell, you just had a moment of thought we all had every single day of our lives.”
“Amen!” said the Dutchman.
“I didn’t. I knew what I did. All this darkness was just inside me in my stomach or wherever,” said the One-eyed Woman.
“Wherever your husband couldn’t fuck you, I bet.” The Bald Man grinned and laughed and all, but the One-eyed Woman laughed loud until the Twisted Cross Guard came and hit them all, with his club.
He stared and hit me too though I had done nothing. We all shook and our chains rattled.
“So, what did you do? Just want to know, you know?” said the Dutchman.
“Alrighty almighty,” said the Music-Man. “I was born in England in 84. Had two loving parents, may God hold them dear. Church though, church. Went there every Sunday.
Every single one. Mum and Dad didn’t even believe the shit they tell you there themselves. Every fucking Sunday the same wizard spells.”
“Jeez, calm down. Don’t want to hear all about your life. Just your story, you know? Your actual story, man.” said the Dutchman and scratched his red hair.
“Fair enough. They put me in that hospital when I was 14 or 15. Was there for the next couple years until I was, I guess 30? Doesn’t matter, just the story, right?
So, I was out, Dad and Mum both in the grave and my brother didn’t care shit about me. Just thought I would waltz in back in my happy family. Didn’t happen. Found him, he offered me money, but I didn’t want not shit money just my family, you know what I mean?”
All nodded, rattling with their chains.
“Larry, that prick, huh, I hit him right in the face, forced myself in his home, riddled it with my fists and teeth.
His wife is all screaming ,Don’t hurt us! Don’t hurt us!’ I force them in the corner cause I got a big damn knife and a big damn dick and tie them up nice as cake.
So Larry he goes on ,Don’t hurt them! Let us go!’ and I say ,Sure’ and the fun begins then. Grab my knife and his wife and in front of the whole family gathering I strip her naked like Sister Eve and have her on her knees. I scalp her really slowly, like slo-mo-tion and they all shout and go on ,No, No, Mummy, Mummy’ and she tries to get away but hell no I don’t let her not with me.
Carver her up good and nice, sweet as a cake and grab some wire I rip out from the TV – who the fuck has a TV anyways today?
From what I saw, none. It is none. I tie her hands and slow and nice I cut them off she screams and wails and shakes like a maniac, like an idiot. And they are all ,No oh no!’ and her scalp – still some part on the head – goes up and done and up and I tear it off like from a wound and she goes sleepy and just lies there. Go over here, fair and square, and slit her throat.
Got a bit, how should I say, got a bit more creative with the rest of them and carve them up, slice and dice. Boys got skinned, brother watches, boys got smothered, still watches.
They tried to put up a fight but I don’t like that so I cut the elders fingers off, one by one.
The idiots thought I would stop with one. Damn idiots. Just for fun I do the other to the brother, mine cries like a baby, never did the same for me though.
Cut off his nose then and pull out his teeth and he sleeps there just fucking sleeping. Police then tell me they bled to death you know, but I didn’t kill them, right?
Didn’t do it. They just slept through all of it. Make a fine nice rope in my cell and the fuckers revive me and sent me here with alls of you all.” he said, as we all stared and shivered in the cold wind.
“So why did you do it?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
“Why? I tell you why. Was a prick that fucking cunt, and his wife too. Children seemed nice enough though.”
“No,” she shook her head, “why did you record it all?”
“How you know?” he asked.
“They said that you did so on the TV.”
“Why not?” countered the Music-Man, and they all agreed, and the Music-Man twirled his thick moustache in pride.
“Huh,” I said, everyone fixing their eyes on me, like buzzards on a mouse. “You don’t think it’s funny we are all one big ass boat in the night?”
“Shut up bencher!” shouted the whole table, their chains rattling in unison.
“It’s not night.” said Mr. Creopopolus.
“What else you think it is?” asked the Bald Man, angrily.
“Not night?” asked the Music-Man, staring above.
“No stars.” Mr. Creopopolus insisted.
“What’s your story?” I asked towards him.
“Already told it too often,” he answered with a proud smile “and you wouldn’t like it.”
“Can’t be worse than these guys.” I countered. They all started to shout at me until the Twisted Cross Guard came and hit me.
“We got rights!” exclaimed the One-eyed Woman.
“You do?” mocked the Twisted Cross Guard.
“We can talk to the captain. You have to let us through,” said Mr. Creopopolus. “I heard it at the other table.”
“I’m innocent,” said I. “You have to believe me!”
“Jesus,” squirmed Twisted Cross Guard in anger. “Fine, let’s go.”
He untied me and led me towards the back of the boat.
The boat stretched endlessly into the night, or non-night, and Mr. Creopopolus shouted from behind that the captain’s name was Charlie.
“Don’t drop the soap!” mocked the Dutchman and all their teeth rattled.
We went on for what must have been like hours? Who builds such big ass boats?
Then, I saw him behind the steering-wheel, old and worn and wrinkled. He motioned for Twisted Cross Guard to bring me close.
“This will never stop will it?” the Captain asked, as we bumped into something in the black water, causing a roar from deep down.
“Are you Captain Charlie?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “Charlie is the lovely fellow here,” he gestured towards Twisted Cross Guard. “I’m Captain Charry. And you go to land now.”
“No,” I pleaded to him, “this is all a big mistake. I didn’t do anything wrong. Please, you need to listen to…”
“I don’t need to do anything, boy!” he spat at me, as hands grabbed me from behind.
Twisted Cross Guard led me towards the plank that was laid out to the landside, several of us marching over it, hoping to feel their feet on land and to walk out of this nightmare.
It was no land though, just water high to our knees, other guards were waiting, their faces all full of hate and scars.
One called my name and I trotted towards him, my irons splashing through the black liquid surrounding us all.
It is so cold now, I don’t feel my thumbs. How long have I been here? Surely, there was some mistake, they couldn’t do that to us. I didn’t do anything wrong.
I was a good person with a good life. I was destined for more, for greatness.
My thoughts wander back to my last day in freedom, before dark water and dark light. I just had met Stignatz a few months ago, and had become his apprentice.
He was a great artist. We had found some common tastes and went hunting, when the old man fired his rifle, I remember it all so clearly, me lying on the ground, Stignatz running away, that coward.
As soon as I find my way out of here, I will visit him and his lovely Rose, that bitch.
I remember what happened before. Stignatz was a strong man but weary from work. He had built an obelisk.
His hands shook with every move, his limbs fell limp. Pulling concrete, fat and hard, all day long, now he felt weak. He bent down.
First got his trousers on. He was looking forward to dinner. Surely, the kids would sleep already and Rosie tired as ever. It was hard business but raw and honest and he liked it.
He could have done better but a pat on the back wouldn't hurt. He filled his used lungs with the air and savored the glory of the moment. One day, one day all would know him.
The great artist Stignatz they would say, he once lived there with his god-warrior apprentice. My installations were young and brute but there was plenty time to fix that, he assured me.
Just don't get cocky, he said as he noticed a mark on my part of the obelisk. Black and long it twisted on our craft. A moment's notice I was about to tear it off.
He was smart. Those blue uniforms in their fancy caps would need months to find our work without a clue. He went forward, every step a drag.
He cradled the strain of black hair like a hurt kitten, I told him to stop it and we marched on, silently in the light of the rising.
Hush-hush. He turned and tumbled away. Can't let Rosie wait. Somehow, we started to argue then and he punched me and my head hit on the wall.
My last thoughts were of the girl in the metal and stone and how she would scream. Our art was not to her taste.
It was to mine though.
They would never find the others. Soon I’m out here, soon. My nails must be bloody now, they hurt like shit. Soon. I am out. I will be out.
Dark water and cold and no light cannot hold me. There has to be an exit somewhere. Do these chains rust? Sure, they do! They must! Soon. What was that? Is there something in there? Some fish? I’m so hungry. Hello? Is there something? Someone? Anyone?
submitted by novel_antle to DarkTales [link] [comments]

The Short Trip [HR]

The Short Trip

It’s freezing and wet. I feel the cold stone under my fingers as I crouch around in the rocky darkness. Can’t find the exit.
I must have been here for hours. I haven’t done anything wrong, why doesn’t anyone help me?!
“Enjoy!” the man had said, and he was gone and so was his flashlight. Since then, I have tried to find the small gateway.
My battery is dying soon.
He led me in here so there needed to be an exit, right?
We had gone in, stretched out. I tried to explain it to him, tried to explain that I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had asked him many questions, though he didn’t care to answer most.
On and on we went inside the cliff-walls, dark and wet.
The water rose steady, first at the height of my knees, it reaches my chest now as I squat. The tunnel was long and narrow and after some time we had to crouch until our heads vanished under the liquid. I admit, I was afraid to drown until he pulled me up.
“Enjoy!” he had said, then he vanished. I am in a cave, it’s hard walls all around me.
It is so dark, I don’t see my own hands in front of my eyes. I don’t hear a thing but my own moves that make the water splash around me. Was there something? Fish? Did fish get in here? No. Still no exit.
The water is up at my nose when I try to sit and so I keep squatting in this dark wet hole.
No standing, no sitting, and lying down is even more out of the question. After a while I just leaned against the wall of the little cave.
Surely, there was something wrong. Surely, someone would come. Right? I drift off, to the conversation I had listened to for hours.
I was on a big boat.
It was big and there were several small lanterns scattered on its 1st deck. Tables everywhere, and guards and shackles.
The guards scared me. They wore grey uniforms and masks over their faces. Ski-masks and Halloween masks and masks of mutilated faces.
They just stood in silence at the railings. I had sat myself on a bench near a table that carried two chess boards when they put the irons on my wrists and neck. Four people sat around the table, until a fifth arrived, all of them in heavy irons, much as I.
“Just grab a chair boy,” said the Music-Man.
„What’s your story newbie?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
„What?”
„Your story!” said the Bald Man
„My story?”
„Yes!” hissed Mr. Creopopolus.
„Well, I guess my story isn’t that interesting,” said the young man with the red hair. “I am from Delft, you know? In the Netherlands. Boy we got so many beautiful cities to see, I always loved my country. Willem van Oranje was assassinated in my city, I think that’s what it is mostly known for, but I always thought my home a bit colorless, you know? Like the place deserved something bigger. More glamorous.”
They understood and nodded, and their chains rattled.
“Anyways,” the Dutchman kept going, “I was out on the streets at eighteen. My mother’s boyfriend and I didn’t get along, you know? He was a real asshole and so I was forced out. I slept a couple of days on the couch of my friend Rikke. Rikke was always so nice to me, such a kind soul. She had the most beautiful hair. Wait,” he said as he tried to reach his wallet in his jeans. “There we go! That’s her.”
The picture within showed a young woman in her late teens, hazel eyes and flaxen hair that were spread on her shoulders. She had a nice smile and good teeth.
“Rikke, she was a really good human being, you know? Honest to the bone but never mean of spiteful. Like some female Jesus.”
“I bet she was,” said the One-eyed Woman “A real treasure.”, she added sarcastically, for which she earned an angry stare from the Dutchman.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I was there on this big couch. Green leather, really uncozy I tell you. I couldn’t sleep though, too much rage in the head, you know? I thought of Rikke and how lovely she was. Really a sweet, sweet girl. I got up and went to her bedroom.
There she was, all tugged in within sheets and blankets. I lied down next to her and tried to touch her boobs. I touched and squeezed until she asked me to stop it goddamit I said.
You fucking tease I said, you know? She was really mad and ordered me to go back to the couch. Fucking couch as she ever would sleep there! Not proud of the next, or not about all of it. She screamed and I put my hand over her mouth.
Must have suffocated her, you know? She was just there so I took her again and again.”
“Lovely!” said Mr. Creopopolus, shaking up his hands, hitting himself in the face with his irons.
“You’re a real piece of sunshine, aren’t you?” asked the Bald Man, scratching his stubbled chin.
“I’m not proud,” lied the Dutchman. “But you know, taking a warm body, it has something good, can’t deny it. Rikke was only the first though. It felt so damn good to feel her, still warm, not rejecting me. I called my other friend Tamara.
Asked her: Hey can I couchsurf at your place? She was all in, the silly girl. I left Rikke and went to Tamara. Same play, nearly, though she put up a fight boy she did. You know? Scratched me good, here you see?” he asked as he pulled up his shirt.
The darkness surrounding us gave up space for the boat to bump against the rocky walls encroaching around it. I nearly fell from my bench when it shook us. There was a loud growl somewhere off. The water seemed wild.
“And then?” asked the Music-Man, twirling his thick moustache.
“Then? Well I did the same. I took her head though cause she had sad eyes. Didn’t want to leave her there.
I put it in one of her shopping-bags and went outside. It poured like hell and I called my friend Mira.”
“Got a lot of female friends?” asked the Bald Man.
“Yeah. I asked her the same and when I arrived, I showed her the head. The bitch started screaming like a fucked goat, so I hit her over the head. I tied her up really good.
When she came back, I had lain out all the knives in her kitchen and let her choose. She declined every single one of them! So, I took the one I liked the most and started carving. Nothing too complicated, really.
Took her breasts and her honeypot and put them in the bag with Tamara’s head. I used her mouth couple of times and went outside.
Can’t remember when she became an angel though. Someone must have called them, cause police was all around. I didn’t give up though charged right at them but you know, don’t bring a knife to a gunfight I guess.”
The table chuckled and their chains rattled.
“Then,” he continued “I woke up here at the table. They must have stitched me up really good.”
“They do,” said the One-eyed Woman, raising her eyebrows in certain uncertainty.
“So, no trial for us, hm?” asked the Music-Man.
“Nope.”
“Sounds not right,” I said. “Isn’t that illegal?”
“Shut up, bencher!” said the Bald Man.
“I haven’t done anything!” I insisted, as the Bald Man called for a guard which hit me over the head.
“What’s your story?” asked the Dutchman.
“Mine?” replied the Bald Man. “Well,” he said, “mine is better than yours, in its own way, I guess.”
“Here comes the showman,” said the Music-Man. “Now, please let us in to the devious devouring of your urging mind.”
“Sure,” started the Bald Man. “My name is Henry Ringler and I was born in 1961 in Güthestaadt, Belgium. I was a teacher once but when my uncle Reinhard died, I was able to settle.
You know, uncle Reini, as we called him, was stockbroker and filthy rich. I was his sole beneficiary, so I bought a huge plot of land in the countryside. I liked it quiet. A man needs privacy. At first, I would often visit the city though, visit and enjoy myself with some ladies if you know what I mean.”
The Music-Man and the Dutchman laughed, as Mr. Creopopolus chuckled to himself and the One-Eyed Woman frowned. Their chains rattled.
“Soon that wasn’t enough. My parents hated animals, even talked me out of becoming a vet, can you imagine? I bought a bunch of dogs, didn’t want to be alone outside there in the countryside, “ he said, as a big wave hit the side of our boat and threw over the unused figures on the chessboards.
“I bought the dogs and took care. I was happy for some time. Then I felt lonely again. You don’t believe how easy it us to get your hands on one you know? How they totally submit but never resist. I got fascinated with all kinds of shit, Kaspar Hauser and that crap.
Somehow, I wanted a human next to me, but it shouldn’t act like a human. I knew this needed planning, so I built a big dog kennel and bought some nice puppies, and then I went hunting.” The Bald Man grinned like a badger.
“Hunting what?” asked Mr. Creopopolus, leaning himself on the table with a bored expression on his face.
“Longpig of course,” he chuckled. “Mostly, they were poor as dirt. Lived outside in some run-down farmhouse. I went in around 3:00 a.m. and doused them in chloroform.
Then, I just grabbed the baby from its crib and went back home. Wasn’t easy to take care of a baby at first. But I always told myself ,Just a couple of years Heinrich, just a couple of years’ so when she was 4 I let her out to the others.
My parents were happy that I was some bigass surgeon, back then when we still talked and they could show off with me.
So now, finally, my skill was usable. I cut her sinews, cut her fingers near the palms and made her a nice little puppy.” The Bald Man chuckled.
“That’s disgusting!” said the One-eyed woman.
“Fuck you woman! Come over here and I show you!” the Bald Man shouted, as he jumped from his chair.
“Calm down everyone!” said Mr. Creopopolus, jumping from his place and stretching his hands towards both sides, as far as his cuffs allowed.
After the mood had calmed in the sounds of the water splashing against the sides of the boat, the Bald Man continued.
“You see, it was not easy. I knew it was wrong, but it was all I wanted. Over time I made her, better. Filed her teeth, lots of tattoos to make her a really good little dalmatian.”
“What was her name?” asked the Dutchman.
“Puppy. She was my little precious puppy, that what she was. Needed no other name.”
“Bet you fucked her good!” laughed the Music-Man.
“The fuck I did,” screamed the Bald Man. “She was my little puppy! I took care of her when she was ill. I tattooed every single spot on her skin myself and filed her teeth sharp. That good little girl she was. Only a sick fuck like you could come up with something so horrible.”
The whole table laughed, and some guards did too. Chains rattled aloud.
“What’s so funny about that?” asked the Bald Man in anger.
“You really ask that?” inquired the Music-Man, twirling his thick moustache. “This was all over the news. She’s now in some sort of asylum. Her parents committed suicide when they found out. The mum was on the news, said even the uncertainty was better than that.
Can you imagine? Most people say the fucking uncertainty is the worst, rather want to know if they girls and boys got raped and burned alive and so shit. But Mrs. kidnapped puppy, she says it was better. Funny fucking world it is.” He spat on the floor.
“Yes,” smiled the Bald Man “really nice.”
“Well honey,” purred the One-eyed Woman “you’re a sick fuck. Simple as that.”
“Who are you to judge me?” screamed the Bald Man pushing back his chair, drawing eyes from other tables and some from the other benchers. His irons hit the table, together with his fist.
“You don’t want to know,” said the One-Eyed Woman.
“I do,” said the Dutchman “I really want to.”
There was wailing coming from the other tables. A figure, a shadow in the darkness walking around. People got up at the other tables and pushed the shadow around.
He tumbled on until he came near us. It was a monk and he was pale and gaunt. His eyes looked mad.
“Vergessen, vergessen. Sie haben mich vergessen!“ he shouted.
The Bald Man and the Music-Man got up and pushed him away.
“Die Kinder, die lieben Kinder!“ he shouted as he tumbled off.
We all laughed and our chains rattled.
“Please,” said Mr. Creopopolus astute. “Go on my dear.”
“My story starts 35 years ago. I was born, you know, I think you don’t want to know this,” she said, glancing towards the Bald Man. “I believe you just want the juicy details.” She winked.
“Sounds about right.” said the Music-Man, smiling.
“I always loved to torture things,” she gazed at the Dutchman. “I loved to stroll around the countryside picking up hurt animals, taking them home. I always pretended to help them, make them feel better. ,Such a kind girl’ said my father when I did so for the first time. They thought I was their little angel.
I did this for years, hiding my true self. I got a husband, two kids, my little darlings.” She started to cry.
“Take your time, dear,” said Mr. Creopopolus as he handed her a tissue.
“Thanks,” she replied, drying her tears. “I hope they are okay. I hid myself so long, so long, I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.”
She teared up again while Mr. Creopopolus put his hand gently on her shoulder and petted her like a sad child.
“One day, one day and it was gone. We had done all we could, after college Harry, my husband, he was hired by a bank and I, I worked as a cashier.
So I could be there for the kids you know?” she said, waiting for the smiles all around to vanish. “You can laugh all you want, but having people shit all over you, it ain’t easy.
I was at the store and home, kids and customers, all crying about their needs and their wants and their wishes. Always bothering me and then, one day, I had dropped them off at school, there was this boy, not much older than my own, and he was all alone.
None of the other kids nearby he ran cause he knew he was late. I slowed down and asked him if he wanted me to pick him up and bring him there.
He was a bit hesitant, I bet he wouldn’t have gotten on the car with any of you, but he did with me. He got in the car, but I drove straight past school, yes Sir, straight past the school. ,What you doing?’ he said, in his annoying baby-voice. I drove him to my place, pulled him in after me.
He kicked and screamed but I was beyond caring.
I just had to do it. I slapped him hard on the face several times. ,Momma! Momma!’ he cried. I slapped and slapped and then I held him and got the tape and made a really nice mummy out of him, cut his clothes and then just rolled him in. He wiggled and shook around until I made a hole for his mouth to breath, put the pen through the tape with a pen, my husband always brought those damn fucking pens from the hotels, where he fucked his whores. And then, then it just happened.
I got out the iron, even did some clothes before it got the right temp, and then I pressed it on his little chubby belly.
God those were screams, was afraid some neighbors heard them, back as my sense kicked in I guess, through the tape I heard it shrill and sharp and I shout ,Shut it shut it shut it’ and press it all over his body like I would tickle one of my boys. The worst though was his little lips, burned them till they looked like white bubbles. Took me hours, all day believe me. Put his corpse in the freezer and two days later they showed up.
I took a knife, I really didn’t want to hurt any of them, they just doing their jobs you know? Took a knife to off myself in the bathtub really classy and all, but the bastards just shot me. Shot me right in the head! Yes Sir, right in the head.”
“Not through the eye, right?” asked the Music-Man.
“Why you asking?” she replied, “not that I would know. Woke up here, right onto the death row.”
“Are we sure of that, my dear?” asked Mr. Creopopolus, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“I am not. Not at all,” said I.
“Shut up, bencher!” screamed one of the guards nearby, charging at me and hitting me with a big white club, his eyes in anger and the symbol, like a twisted cross on his head, in wrinkles.
“I haven’t done anything! You need to believe me!” I pleaded. He hit me again. The five on the table laughed and their irons rattled.
“Where else would we go?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
“What the hell would I know?” said the Dutchman.
“Need to kill the time,” insisted the Bald Man.
“What’s your story?” asked the One-eyed Woman, towards the Music-Man.
“Lady, you got kids. You don’t want to know,” he answered, twirling his thick moustache.
“Yes, I do.” I said.
“Goddamit! Shut it bencher!” screeched Mr. Creopopolus and threw a chess figure at me that hit my head. It hurt.
“No, you don’t. You just snapped one day. Don’t as bad as we others here,” said the Music-Man and gave me a bad glance. “We are the scum of the earth as far as I can tell, you just had a moment of thought we all had every single day of our lives.”
“Amen!” said the Dutchman.
“I didn’t. I knew what I did. All this darkness was just inside me in my stomach or wherever,” said the One-eyed Woman.
“Wherever your husband couldn’t fuck you, I bet.” The Bald Man grinned and laughed and all, but the One-eyed Woman laughed loud until the Twisted Cross Guard came and hit them all, with his club.
He stared and hit me too though I had done nothing. We all shook and our chains rattled.
“So, what did you do? Just want to know, you know?” said the Dutchman.
“Alrighty almighty,” said the Music-Man. “I was born in England in 84. Had two loving parents, may God hold them dear. Church though, church. Went there every Sunday.
Every single one. Mum and Dad didn’t even believe the shit they tell you there themselves. Every fucking Sunday the same wizard spells.”
“Jeez, calm down. Don’t want to hear all about your life. Just your story, you know? Your actual story, man.” said the Dutchman and scratched his red hair.
“Fair enough. They put me in that hospital when I was 14 or 15. Was there for the next couple years until I was, I guess 30? Doesn’t matter, just the story, right?
So, I was out, Dad and Mum both in the grave and my brother didn’t care shit about me. Just thought I would waltz in back in my happy family. Didn’t happen. Found him, he offered me money, but I didn’t want not shit money just my family, you know what I mean?”
All nodded, rattling with their chains.
“Larry, that prick, huh, I hit him right in the face, forced myself in his home, riddled it with my fists and teeth.
His wife is all screaming ,Don’t hurt us! Don’t hurt us!’ I force them in the corner cause I got a big damn knife and a big damn dick and tie them up nice as cake.
So Larry he goes on ,Don’t hurt them! Let us go!’ and I say ,Sure’ and the fun begins then. Grab my knife and his wife and in front of the whole family gathering I strip her naked like Sister Eve and have her on her knees. I scalp her really slowly, like slo-mo-tion and they all shout and go on ,No, No, Mummy, Mummy’ and she tries to get away but hell no I don’t let her not with me.
Carver her up good and nice, sweet as a cake and grab some wire I rip out from the TV – who the fuck has a TV anyways today?
From what I saw, none. It is none. I tie her hands and slow and nice I cut them off she screams and wails and shakes like a maniac, like an idiot. And they are all ,No oh no!’ and her scalp – still some part on the head – goes up and done and up and I tear it off like from a wound and she goes sleepy and just lies there. Go over here, fair and square, and slit her throat.
Got a bit, how should I say, got a bit more creative with the rest of them and carve them up, slice and dice. Boys got skinned, brother watches, boys got smothered, still watches.
They tried to put up a fight but I don’t like that so I cut the elders fingers off, one by one.
The idiots thought I would stop with one. Damn idiots. Just for fun I do the other to the brother, mine cries like a baby, never did the same for me though.
Cut off his nose then and pull out his teeth and he sleeps there just fucking sleeping. Police then tell me they bled to death you know, but I didn’t kill them, right?
Didn’t do it. They just slept through all of it. Make a fine nice rope in my cell and the fuckers revive me and sent me here with alls of you all.” he said, as we all stared and shivered in the cold wind.
“So why did you do it?” asked the One-eyed Woman.
“Why? I tell you why. Was a prick that fucking cunt, and his wife too. Children seemed nice enough though.”
“No,” she shook her head, “why did you record it all?”
“How you know?” he asked.
“They said that you did so on the TV.”
“Why not?” countered the Music-Man, and they all agreed, and the Music-Man twirled his thick moustache in pride.
“Huh,” I said, everyone fixing their eyes on me, like buzzards on a mouse. “You don’t think it’s funny we are all one big ass boat in the night?”
“Shut up bencher!” shouted the whole table, their chains rattling in unison.
“It’s not night.” said Mr. Creopopolus.
“What else you think it is?” asked the Bald Man, angrily.
“Not night?” asked the Music-Man, staring above.
“No stars.” Mr. Creopopolus insisted.
“What’s your story?” I asked towards him.
“Already told it too often,” he answered with a proud smile “and you wouldn’t like it.”
“Can’t be worse than these guys.” I countered. They all started to shout at me until the Twisted Cross Guard came and hit me.
“We got rights!” exclaimed the One-eyed Woman.
“You do?” mocked the Twisted Cross Guard.
“We can talk to the captain. You have to let us through,” said Mr. Creopopolus. “I heard it at the other table.”
“I’m innocent,” said I. “You have to believe me!”
“Jesus,” squirmed Twisted Cross Guard in anger. “Fine, let’s go.”
He untied me and led me towards the back of the boat.
The boat stretched endlessly into the night, or non-night, and Mr. Creopopolus shouted from behind that the captain’s name was Charlie.
“Don’t drop the soap!” mocked the Dutchman and all their teeth rattled.
We went on for what must have been like hours? Who builds such big ass boats?
Then, I saw him behind the steering-wheel, old and worn and wrinkled. He motioned for Twisted Cross Guard to bring me close.
“This will never stop will it?” the Captain asked, as we bumped into something in the black water, causing a roar from deep down.
“Are you Captain Charlie?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “Charlie is the lovely fellow here,” he gestured towards Twisted Cross Guard. “I’m Captain Charry. And you go to land now.”
“No,” I pleaded to him, “this is all a big mistake. I didn’t do anything wrong. Please, you need to listen to…”
“I don’t need to do anything, boy!” he spat at me, as hands grabbed me from behind.
Twisted Cross Guard led me towards the plank that was laid out to the landside, several of us marching over it, hoping to feel their feet on land and to walk out of this nightmare.
It was no land though, just water high to our knees, other guards were waiting, their faces all full of hate and scars.
One called my name and I trotted towards him, my irons splashing through the black liquid surrounding us all.
It is so cold now, I don’t feel my thumbs. How long have I been here? Surely, there was some mistake, they couldn’t do that to us. I didn’t do anything wrong.
I was a good person with a good life. I was destined for more, for greatness.
My thoughts wander back to my last day in freedom, before dark water and dark light. I just had met Stignatz a few months ago, and had become his apprentice.
He was a great artist. We had found some common tastes and went hunting, when the old man fired his rifle, I remember it all so clearly, me lying on the ground, Stignatz running away, that coward.
As soon as I find my way out of here, I will visit him and his lovely Rose, that bitch.
I remember what happened before. Stignatz was a strong man but weary from work. He had built an obelisk.
His hands shook with every move, his limbs fell limp. Pulling concrete, fat and hard, all day long, now he felt weak. He bent down.
First got his trousers on. He was looking forward to dinner. Surely, the kids would sleep already and Rosie tired as ever. It was hard business but raw and honest and he liked it.
He could have done better but a pat on the back wouldn't hurt. He filled his used lungs with the air and savored the glory of the moment. One day, one day all would know him.
The great artist Stignatz they would say, he once lived there with his god-warrior apprentice. My installations were young and brute but there was plenty time to fix that, he assured me.
Just don't get cocky, he said as he noticed a mark on my part of the obelisk. Black and long it twisted on our craft. A moment's notice I was about to tear it off.
He was smart. Those blue uniforms in their fancy caps would need months to find our work without a clue. He went forward, every step a drag.
He cradled the strain of black hair like a hurt kitten, I told him to stop it and we marched on, silently in the light of the rising.
Hush-hush. He turned and tumbled away. Can't let Rosie wait. Somehow, we started to argue then and he punched me and my head hit on the wall.
My last thoughts were of the girl in the metal and stone and how she would scream. Our art was not to her taste.
It was to mine though.
They would never find the others. Soon I’m out here, soon. My nails must be bloody now, they hurt like shit. Soon. I am out. I will be out.
Dark water and cold and no light cannot hold me. There has to be an exit somewhere. Do these chains rust? Sure, they do! They must! Soon. What was that? Is there something in there? Some fish? I’m so hungry. Hello? Is there something? Someone? Anyone?
submitted by novel_antle to shortstories [link] [comments]

Bernard Manning Mark Lamarr Interview Best Dog Betting Game  Greyhound Racing game 3D virtual dogs InbetGames Brutal NFL Cheap Shots!!! Top 10 Worst Single-Season Collapses!  NFL Films Heroes of Comedy: Bernard Manning (Part 2/4)

One betting shop worker was fortunate to escape uninjured after his store was robbed while he was single manning. He said: “I was robbed one evening just after 9.30 pm by a customer who had been in and out of the shop all night. An earlier opening of England’s high street betting shops would provide the racing industry with a welcome shot in the arm as it is estimated their closure due to the suspension of racing since the middle of March has cost in the region of £8 million per month from the levy, plus a far larger sum in lost media rights income. Single-manning, as staff started to call it, was trialled and then expanded around Ladbrokes’ betting shops between 2011 and 2013. People at all levels of the company told me they were in no There is no doubt that betting shop clientele, especially in the evenings, has changed for the worse since the machines came in. I'd consider single-manning a dangerous practice and it's notable that Ladbrokes is the only major company with a stated policy of working this way. Single-manning or lone working was rolled out to all Ladbrokes bookmakers shops from 2011 to 2013. It was reported at the time by the Daily Mirror, that from 2009 to 20011, the amount of wages paid by Ladbrokes was reduced by a third.

[index] [27321] [11393] [20504] [2432] [37911] [44039] [40786] [30149] [45924] [30786]

Bernard Manning Mark Lamarr Interview

But it exists only on a screen in south london betting shop 22 anyone can play, and better yet, win at mardi gras casino & resort greyhound racetrack. Southland park gaming bet on greyhound race ... Song Superstars; Artist Johnny Pearson, PRS; Album KPM 238 The Seventies; Licensed to YouTube by AdRev Masters Admin (on behalf of APM in North America and EMI Production Music for Rest of World ... 13 Of the Worst Tourist Traps in Las Vegas. Isn't the whole of Las Vegas a tourist trap? Yes, Las Vegas is designed to attracts tourists, but tourist traps are those who deliberately mislead and ... Dubai is the biggest and most populous of the cities in the United Arab Emirates. Capital of the Emirate of Dubai, the country faced a problem. The following are the 40 craziest things you’ll ... Bernard John Manning (13 August 1930 -- 18 June 2007) was an English comedian and nightclub owner. ... He was born and raised in Manchester in northwest England. Manning told irreverent jokes ...