The Funeral

this one i have been writing myself, at or around the same time as "Good Movie" but i abandoned it due to the fact that i got really busy, however it's definitely really classy material that's sure to raise some funny eyebrows (i am really funny)

A story about a kid working at a funeral home

He is best friends with the son of a mafia don, accepted as part of the family

Fine pressed suits by day, indie kid by night

(start in blackness, gong of the church bells, shot from directly above the casket showing a man with a content smile on his face, fade to black again begin music by The Colour – Chariot of Gold – show Danny waking up at 6 a.m. and falling out of bed, throwing his suit on)

Danny: Not many people can even imagine the life that I lead …Well, let me rephrase … It’s not that they don’t know people like me exist, I think it’s more that they don’t want to think that people like me exist.

(begin showing sky shot of New York, insert a slow moving pan shot from right to left of a grieving family, begin low aerial filming across rooftops of an old neighborhood - Bronx, Brooklyn – insert filming of a church funeral service, pan at back of church from right to left, everyone dressed in black, family sobbing, freeze to sobbing woman)

Danny: Now, see people like that woman there? Those kind of people just really piss me off. I know it’s harsh. But in my profession you become calloused, desensitized. You have to. I see death everyday and it doesn’t bother me anymore. Sure, at first it was pretty gross, but after a while, you just don’t care. I mean, if you actually cared, hell, you wouldn’t last a single minute in this job. (show Danny and another man playing with a dead body, dancing to techno while embalming the body and making the body do “the robot”)

(return to filming of neighborhood, closer this time if possible, showing people on rooftops – woman drying clothes on a clothes line, old man fiddling with a bird cage, return to the end of the church service, slow motion close up on the hands grabbing the casket, move back to show only the torso up the chest and below to the feet which are all moving in unison, shot from outside the church, see kids run across along the sidewalk as the casket exits the church with crowd in tow, see the upper bodies of the men put the casket into the back of the hearse, shot of Danny walks out of the house at dawn, see him look at his neighbor’s flower garden, look on, then walk into the yard and pick a white flower and place it on his chest, back to the funeral procession going through town, aerial footage as the procession goes through red lights, shot from the hood of the car showing the front end of the car but still showing the red light. However, the hearse goes through the light, in doing so, another car slams into the front of the car, spinning the hearse out, shot from inside the car as it’s spinning and the casket slams against the back doors of the hearse and opens up, shot from outside the car showing the open doors and the spinning car, screeching tires, the casket slips out the back, add bell sounds as the casket rolls on the ground, breaking the casket open, landing face up, showing the face of the dead man with a frown on his face)

(show the funeral now, laying the body to rest in the earth, the family is seated and standing to the left, same woman weeping even harder because of the car accident, the priest is ridiculously old and has enormously thick glasses which enlarge his eyes, however, he still has problems seeing. Al is the older black partner to Danny’s father, who owned the funeral parlor. Danny’s father died when he was 10 and Al now is a part owner with Danny, however Al runs most of the business. Danny and Al are standing back from the ceremony, waiting for it to finish, the priest is delivering his condolences and about to read a passage from the Bible.)

Danny: Jesus H. Christ. Who the hell was this guy? Everyone looks stunned or weeping like a little bitch.

Al: Didn’t you hear? Look at the front end of that hearse man.

Danny: Hot damn. Was it a roller?

Al: (smiles slyly) Oh hell yes, boy. That casket rolled a good twenty feet in the middle of an intersection.

Danny: Hmm, that’s almost a record isn’t it?

Al: Nope, not even close. In the summer of 87’, the year before your father died, the hearse driver, Trashy Ted we called him. (cut to the late 80’s, showing the scene described below) Whenever the parlor business slowed, he’d collect garbage and cans and return ‘em for extra cash. Anyway, he was in a hurry to get to his wife, see. Big date. So, he decides to take the procession onto the interstate and go seventy. I mean, ol’ grannies were getting lost in the traffic, people were just dropping like flies. Ted didn’t give a damn as long as the body got to the cemetery. Well, in the midst of a three lane change he cut off a semi driver and happened to clip the front of the truck. The hearse spun out and the casket became a seventy mile an hour projectile, this poor guy in the casket was ejected over the bridge, took a seventy foot fall, then rolled for a good thirty feet before coming to rest in the side panel of a Cadillac.

Danny: (return to cemetery where conversation is taking place) Objects in motion stay in motion until acted upon by an equal or greater force.

Al: Damn straight. (the two of them look at the funeral service with awkward faces)

Priest: First letter of Paul to the Semenites. (wife and family pause from their crying for a moment and look at the priest strangely)

Danny: (with a smile) Huh, never heard of that one.

Al: Must be the unabridged version.

(moment of silence just showing the Danny and Al looking on)

Danny: What’s that thing on top of the casket?

Al: Oh, back in the old superstitious days they would put a bell on the casket in the event that they came back to life or were simply confused for sleeping. The bell has a string attached to it which can be pulled from inside. So, some poor bastard who had been drinking heavily the night before and mistaken for dead could wake up, ring the bell, and be taken out of the casket. Easy as pie. Don’t see those too often these days. Must have been the dude’s last wishes.

Danny: No shit. Looks like it’s rigged with an intercom though.

Al: Must be a new age thing, just in case someone doubts the bell you can ring up and say …

Danny: (interrupting) “Save me, bitch!” (both men laugh)

Al: (still chuckling) Not what I was thinking, but close enough.

(another moment of silence)

Priest: And now we lower the Martin Wood to rest, ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

(the workers begin to lower the casket but the machine breaks down and starts smoking, one of the lowering wires snaps and the casket falls and hits the sides and thuds to the bottom, the wife lets out a terrified wail)

Danny: Tough day, Martin. Tough day.

a mobster had bet his left nut and the debt collectors came to pay him a visit, causing a heart attack

Good Movie

Co-written with Jonathan Stepp, my boi, we have created the beginning of one of the best movie scripts ever to walk the face of the planet, if you liked Superbad, you would like this one, now, the beginning stuff you will see is just brainstorming material, so ignore it, if you want, its simply comedic fragments and dust that may or may not become something later, the actual script begins lower and is very evident that it is script and not comedic fragments, you must remember, this was written in a matter of hours on only two separate occasions, so cut us a fucking break

Ideas:

Killzone and little Caesar’s palace (with mike Tyson)

Any character must wear am “I survived Auschwitz” t shirt, hahahahaha

Rip on Ulysses

Dietary, especially fast food, burger king road head!

Anything involving the south

Ok, ok, southern epic about working at kohl’s (or any form of clothing outlet), involving the home life which inherently includes drinking, video gaming, and fantasizing about women (baby momma’s)

Plots:

- Manager not being able to grow anything and asks Fred for help, Fred grows pot, and boys find out, and Fred uses them to find markets, and they get entangled in the pot business.

- Walk for the AIDS

Characters:

Fred: middle aged, 42, overeducated, alcoholic, slacker, lives near the department store, games all the time, internet porn (webcam’s, chat room’s), into fat chics and disapproves of skinny white, blond girls, still turns out to be old men who live in India, installs tv cam’s in the dressing rooms to watch on his hand held tv, buys the main characters liquor frequently, fred is the failed hero, never accepted the call, Marxist thought, Licensed gynecologist

Kids are both hard workers, trying to pay their way through college, trying to get out, one loving Nietzsche and the other Kant, creating interesting debates, which fred participates in

Scenes:

1. Burger king road head
2. Fred’s apartment
3. I survived Auschwitz encounter
4. underwear sniffer
5. senior citizen days
6. husbands looking for more underwear for women
7. manager, klan member invites them to a BBQ, company picnic
8. professor’s office

Scene 1:

Narrator: Some stories should be told. Others not so much. Yeah …. this one is up to you to decide. (pan to city) This is the city where Scott and Bill live. Greendale, Arkansas. Not very green, and whatever the hell a dale is, it’s most definitely not that. (pan to Shop-Mart) This is where is Scott and Bill work. Shop-Mart, the nation’s prominent retail chain. This particular outlet prides itself on the NASCAR department which spans two-thirds of the store. Scott and Bill work in the NASCAR department, they hate their jobs. This is Fred, their coworker (show drinking out of a flask at work).

Old lady: Can you help me?

Fred: No. I don’t work here.

Old lady: What? You have a Shop-Mart vest.

Fred: Look lady. I got this at a rummage sale. I don’t work here. I never did.

(Old lady walks away disgusted)

(Rick walks up) Rick: Fred, what did you just tell that woman?

Fred: I told her that the laundry department was that way.

Rick: But we don’t have a laundry department.

Fred: I don’t give a damn, this is a union job and you know you can’t fire me. (Takes swig from flask again)

Rick: Fred we don’t have a union.

Fred: No shit?

(Fred shrugs and walks away)

Scott and Bill go to the local college (pan to college) Trinity Baptist Southern University. They teach intelligent design there.

Teacher: Now the atheist liberals out there want you to believe that we randomly formed from nucleotides and then became monkeys and now we are human beings. But that’s liberal poppycock. Now I’ll tell you how we really formed.

Scott: (mutters) Jesus Christ.

Teacher: The Lord came down 18,000 years ago, not the 10,000 those crazy fundamentalists will tell you. And he did not create humans the way we are today. He created Cro-Magnons, the same one’s found in Africa, where it looks like some of you are from.

(glares from angry black men)

Bill: Where is he going with this?

Scott: Hell if I know.

Teacher: Through the intelligent design of God, Cro-Magnon man “evolved”, if you will, into modern human beings. (shows two slides, two pictures on each) Here we have Cro-Magnon man, figures 1 and 2. (cro-magnon man and a generic black guy) You can clearly see the resemblance in the broad nose and depressed skull. In figures 3 and 4, you can trace an extremely slight evolution of cro-magnon man (shows pictures of two black students in the class. The black students are in awe. All the white kids are straining to see the students that they recognize on the slides)

Bill: Is this actually happening?

Narrator: This is Scott’s family (pan to hick father with mullet, a haggard white trashy woman, and an obese black woman standing in front of their home, and a younger brother) Scott’s father, Charley, works down at the lumber yard. (pan to the lumber yard) Scott’s mother, Charlene is a hair stylist in her friend’s house down the street. (pan to the home)

Charlene: Did you hear about those little negro boys down at the school?

Tammy: Yes’m. I heard they’s makin’ trouble wit the teachas and graffitying them walls in the boys bathroom.

Narrator: This is Maybelle, Charley’s mistress. (pan to showing Charley and Maybelle standing together) Every Sunday afternoon, they take down the confederate flag, wash it, and perform a flag raising ceremony. (pan to flag raising ceremony, Maybelle is raising the flag as Charley salutes and has his shotgun in the other hand, 24 pack on the ground next to him)

Narrator: This is Bill’s family. (pan to father, mother, and Bill) (show trailer) They live in a trailer. (awkward pause) Bill doesn’t enjoy living at home.

(Trailer shaking while Bill attempts to do homework)

Bill: For Christ’s sake, keep it down!

Hank: Don’t use the lord’s name in vain!

Scarlet: YES! YES!

Bill: (mutters) God damnit …

Hank: (enters room wearing only confederate flag boxers and holding a belt) What did I just tell you boy?

Bill: Oh shit! (runs out of the trailer, father in tow)

(pan to inside shop-mart)

Scott: Rick, we’re going on break.

Rick: Wait, you can’t, there’s no one else working in the department but me.

Bill: I’m sure you can handle it by yourself, Rick.

(Scott and Bill enter surveillance camera room)

Fred: Hey boys, break time?

Bill: You can bet your snakeskin belt on it.

Fred: I only wear twine belts.

Scott: (looking at one of the monitors of a woman changing) No shit, Fred. When’d you set this one up?

Fred: Oh, just last Saturday. I did some research and I found that the hottest chicks, for whatever reason, always picked the furthest stall on the right. So I set up a camera in that corner of the room. I hooked it up to broadcast on a tv frequency of my choice. Right now it’s Local Channel 67.

Scott: So you are telling me I could go home and turn to channel 67 and watch this right now?

Fred: Well, as long as you are close enough, yeah, yeah I think you should be able to.

Scott: What kind of radius are we talking about?

Fred: 2, maybe 3 miles if the wind is right.

Bill: That’s nearly the whole town Fred, anyone could be watching this.

(pan to kids at home)

Kid 1: Oooo, what’s this?

Kid 2: Those would be BOOBS!

Kid 1: (giggling) Hahahaha, I love boobs.

(pan back to shop mart)

Bill: So why did you decide to install the camera?

Fred: Customers apparently don’t like to see a creepy middle aged guy staring at them from above the stalls. If I was a chic and that happened to me, I’d find that quite flattering.

Scott: Eh, understandable.

Bill: Oh, Christ, look at her!

Fred: I would totally tap that ass.

Scott: Too bad, she probably has the clap.

Fred: Then I’ll wear my latex gloves.”

Scott: What’re you going to do, fist her?”

Fred: Hell yeah, chicks like that love it rough!”

(Rick enters, flustered)

Rick: Guys, I can’t handle it. I need to go back to my office. A customer needs help over by the toy cars.

Fred: (grinning mischievously) I can take care of it Rick, my lunch break is nearly over anyway.

Rick: Thanks, these people are driving me mad. Oh, guys, don’t forget. The company picnic is over at the Wilson place this year.

(Fred and Rick exit, pan to toy department)

Fred: Hi ma’am, how may I help you.

Customer: Do these actually work?

Fred: What do you mean?

Customer: Can I drive them?

Fred: Ma’am, they are just toys.

Customer: Are you sure? Cuz it looks like you could get a little person in there, you know, (voice hushed) a midget.

Fred: No. No, little people can’t fit in there. The car isn’t real. The doors don’t open and the engine is plastic.

Customer: I don’t believe you.

Fred: Ok, yes. You can drive it. We have a shrink ray in Isle 73 that would get you right down to size. You can’t miss it. It’s the isle next to the Unicorns and Leprechauns.

Customer: Are you pulling my leg?

Fred: No ma’am, not at all.

Customer: (gleefully walking away) I always knew unicorns were real. Wait till I tell Pauline!

Narrator: This is Fred in one of the six bars within walking distance of his church. (camera pan from church, across parking lot to bar. Bar has many more cars than church). Fred likes to get his drink on. (pause) Tonight he is drinking jack and coke, but he substituted the coke for more jack.

Fred: Bartender, I want a jack and a coke on the rocks. Hold the rocks and the coke. (does bad dance move while waiting for drink, chick looks at him moves away quickly). Yeah, I want to fuck you that badly too. Bartender? Who was that, she just checked me out.

Bartender: That’s my wife.

Fred: Really? That sucks. She looks worse than my anemic blood hound.

Bartender: I’m going to fucking kill you.

Fred: Can have my drink first (bartender hands drink over, as Fred sips, fist enters screen, sends glass flying into biker gang. Biker gang member draws studded bat from pants and walks towards bar. Bartender shoots biker. Freeze frame as the biker gets hit in the shoulder.)

Narrator: Good thing that was Saturday night, and the next day meant Sunday’s glorious redemption at Holy Baptist Trinity Word of Jesus Evangelical Adventist Rejuvenation Church of America. (shows man with arm in a sling, the bartender with bandage on head, and a man with a bruises all over his face, pan to Scott and Bill’s families sitting together, with the two boys in the middle, show Fred sleeping with hands down pants in the back of the church)

Pastor: Fuck the liberals! They don’t know shit! Praise the lord!

Maybelle: PRAISE THE LORD (jumps up and raises hand as if to testify)

Pastor: Join hands brothers, sisters, and negroes alike. We address this prayer to god’s angels Strom Thermond, Jerry Falwell and Jack Daniel’s. (Fred wakes up confused as to where he is)

Bill: (Desperately) Oh, fuck me sideways.

Scott: Sideways?

Bill: Yeah, just like I did your mom last night

Scott: You and half the police force.

Bill: Fuck.

Pastor (continuing): We pray that George Bush will be given the strength to conquer the North, Liberals, A-rabs, Darwinians, the Bravo channel and Clay Aikin and his plot to turn us all into homosexual lovers.

Fred: (stands up, screams): FUCK CLAY AIKIN!!!

Maybelle: AMEN!!!

Pastor: Damn the homosexuals and their pro cancer agenda straight to hell. We pray that god will give us the strength to crusade against the a-rabs, communists, gypsies, science and menstruation.

Fred: YES, FUCK MENSTRUATION, RAG TIME IS THE WRONG TIME!! (everyone in church turns awkwardly and stares as Fred mimics a Pentecostal dance and pretends to speak in tongues which is really just a long list of NASCAR drivers)

Maybelle: LORD ALL MIGHTY, AMEN.

(pan to the appliance section of the store, by the refrigerators and microwaves, Fred is standing conspicuously by the largest refrigerator in the store)

(Bill approaches, microwave is on but unnoticed)

Bill: What are you doing in Appliances, we work in NASCAR?

Fred: Want a drink?

Bill: What?

Fred: A drink, (annoyed) you know? Liquid. Liquid with alcohol.

Bill: No, but it’s the beginning of the shift, why are you asking me now?

(fred opens fridge, removes beer, opens on LCD display, putting a large scratch on screen)

Bill: You fucking idiot, you have beer in the fridge, you’re drinking on the clock, and you just ruined a forty-five hundred dollar TV.

Fred: So? We’ve got more in the back.

Bill: Beer or TV’s

Fred: How the hell am I supposed to know about the TV’s? I work in the NASCAR section.

Bill: Oh, Jesus, we’re going to get fired

Fred: nah, Rick is a pussy, and I disabled the security camera in this section. (Fred walks away and throws empty beer bottle over head which crashes into another expensive tv on display, clearly ruining it. Fred pauses awkwardly, and begins to walk toward Bill)

Bill: Where am I? Satan’s arm pit?

Fred: Worse kid, Satan’s festering herpes sores. (opens same large fridge, removes one of many large wine-in-the-box’s, removes swirly straw from pocket, inserts into box, microwave rings) SCOTT, YOUR SHIT IS READY, COME GET IT.

Scott: Thank god, hot pockets look like pussy, this will be my entertainment today.

(Fred sips wine, Scott takes oversized bite of hot pocket, immediately spits onto same TV Fred opened bottle, Fred who is alarmed by the sudden motion, jumps and spits wine on Bill’s face)

Fred: Sorry

Bill: (anger building) It’s ok.

Fred: No, I meant about the hot pocket, but speaking of pussy, You guys want in on a little secret?

(pans to exterior rape crisis center)

Fred: Listen, I know you’ve been through a tough time, that’s why I think you need to get high with me.

Distraught woman: What?

Fred: Listen, right now, what do you want to do? Just forget it all happened, right?

Woman: Yes, I’d give anything.

Fred: (slyly) Anything?

Woman: Well..

Fred: (jokingly) ok, ok, bad joke, (regains serious composure) but seriously?

Woman: I just want it all to go away.

Fred: That can be arranged (removes large bag of pot, pipe and lighter from pockets) one hit of this and you’ll be effectively an Alzheimer patient.

(scene of both taking a hit, fade to black. During the darkness, begin loud sex noises until climax and then fade sound. Still no visual. Pause. Brighten into sun rise. Excessively happy music with birds chirping and a happy family walking to church. Show same view of rape crisis center. Show Fred and Distraught Woman cuddling on the floor with posters of how to resist male manipulation in the back ground)

Woman: (waking up): Oh Jesus, it happened again.

Fred: Yep, sorry about that.

Woman: (insanely outraged) You abused my trust. You fucker. (gets up naked, and starts slapping him) YOU FUCKER! YOU SICK FUCK! FUCK YOU! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A LOWDOWN BAG OF FUCK! (she punches him in his good eye, and freeze frame briefly, then fade to church.)

“You have five levels. D, C, B, A, and … Max.”

The Very Intriguing Christmas

Part II of the Ross family tradition ... that's only two years old, fun to read even if you don't know my girlfriend's family simply due to the absurdity of the story

Chapter 1: Santa’s Unfortunate Backstory

April had only just unpacked her yellow and black J.K. Lees duffle bag when JP suddenly grabbed it from her and bellowed, “I bet you wish you were using this duffle bag in San Diego, California. Dontcha guuuurlfriend?”. April simply stared. JP smiled idiotically.

“No, I wish you would be with me and my family this Christmas. You deserter. You won’t even be here for Steve’s birthday.”

“I said I was sorry.” JP replied.

“No you are not.”

“Mayyyyyyyyybe.”

Over two hundred miles away, and just a little to the north of Eau Claire, Santa Claus was tracking April’s every move after installing a heat tracking device that followed the course of her purpleish red hair as it melted the snow on her return trip home. Sitting in his “home base” where no one could catch him, Santa Claus was up to his yearly sinister plan.

Dearest Ross Family, you all must wondering, Santa, our robust and jolly Santa Claus, what kind of sinister plans could he be up to? He comes to our house with reindeer and delivers fantastic presents. He just lives with all of the elves and they are so selfless. Well, although many of those things are true, poor Santa Claus, contrary to popular belief, does not have a “significant other”. How shall I say, he lacks a female counterpart. Or, as we say today, he is not married to a lovely, caring wife. A few years ago, after having several children, the former Mrs. Claus could not handle the northern Wisconsin cold anymore, declared that the marriage was a farce and that no woman in her right mind would shack up with a fat man who did nothing but make toys ‘til all hours of the morning until “The Big Day” where he stressed out even worse than a woman around that time of the month. As a result, Santie Claus would kidnap any woman that seemed to meet his fancy and keep them in an underground ice “lair” where they would have to perform the daily functions of a maternal house wife. They had to do things like scold the children, wash the laundry, prepare and serve the food, clean the house, etc etc. Things which Mrs. Ross can rightfully say are no fun at all and wish that other people could do for themselves.

Now, Santa Claus, living only twenty minutes away from Eau Claire, would dress in some raggedy clothes that Mrs. Ross would not approve of and mumble to himself on the University of Eau Claire campus in order to pretend to be the local insane man. When he saw April, he thought he must be hallucinating. Her hair was such an odd color that he knew that she must be added to his collection, not to mention she had a pretty face. However, as Santa Claus was about to make his move, another woman showed up in a van. April went to go hug the woman and then April’s face went quite cross.

“What took you so long mom?”

“I hit traffic.”

“You always hit traffic.”

“Were you aware there is a way around traffic?”

“I don’t need your badittude young lady. If you want, I can leave you here right now.”

“No mommy! … ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma ma!

“Shut up April!”

“But ma ma!”

“April …. This is gonna be a long ride.”

Mrs. Ross and April climbed into the car and got settled in. Mrs. Ross put Steely Dan into the cd player. Santa steamed in disappointment, but being one who doesn’t give up easily, he decided to follow her with Weather.com.

JP’s flight was unfortunately cancelled. He hoped he could go visit Steve on his birthday, but his dad freaked out and decided to drive the whole way. No big deal, only a thirty six hour drive, watching hours and hours worth of nothing. While April and Rachel were staying up super late for no reason, Santa was outside their house, having made all of his yearly Christmas rounds elsewhere in the world a little bit early so that he would have enough time to take April in her sleep. Finally, after about three a.m., April and Rachel fell asleep, cuddling together because of their intensely cold room that they will soon change the color of. JP, on the other hand, was probably awake staring at the white sands of Arizona.

Chapter 2:

“I’m so tired-uh.” Deanna proclaimed.

“Then go to bed-uh.” Mrs. Ross said.

Deanna sported a grumpy face to her mother’s reply.

“It’s time for bed, Deanna. If you don’t go to sleep and get rid of that attitude, Santa will take back all of the gifts he set aside for you..

“Nuh-uh. Santa can’t watch everyone when he is out on Christmas night. He has his radar at home and that’s how he knows about the rest of the year. But other than that, he doesn’t know about tonight. So there!”

“Oh really, is that what you think?” Mrs. Ross said with a smile.

“Yup … uh.” Deanna giggled.

Mr. Ross got back home from last minute Christmas shopping just as Deanna giggled. Without warning Steven, who was supposed to be sleeping, emerged from behind a chair and fired numerous Nerf balls at his father.

“Haha, touché Dad!”

“Touche what?

Steve fired two more nerf balls. “Touche!!!”

Mr. Ross responded by grabbing Steven by his ankles, lifting him upside down, walking up the stairs, and then by tossing him into the bed. Steven chuckled a bit.

“Do that again and you will have an early bed time.”

“Not on Christmas!”

“Yes on Christmas!”

“Nooooo. Not by bed time. Can I please not have it back.”

“I didn’t take anything away.”

“I want it back! Please.”

Mr. Ross simply looked confused but decided to make the best of the situation.

“Well, if you are good and don’t whine tomorrow then you’ll be able to get your bedtime back.”

“Ok, it’s a deal dad.”

“Ooooookay then.”

Mr. and Mrs. Ross tucked Deanna into bed, kissed her goodnight, and then went to their bedroom, you know, the room with all the towels and washcloths. They climbed into bed and slowly fell asleep, they too waiting for Santa to come bring them their gifts.

Chapter 3: When Santa Brought More Than Just Gifts

Santa Claus saw all the lights go off one by one in the Ross household, and he began to peer into the windows to “double check”. Santa tried to get in the doors, but Steven had locked every single one. The chimney was definitely too small, not to mention that Steve had only recently extinguished a raging fire. The only option was a little B&E, also known as breaking and entering for those who don’t live next to a not so good neighborhood, like JP does. Santa walked to the sliding glass door, took out his glass cutting kit, and cut a perfectly circle out of the glass, not making a sound. He climbed through the hole in the glass, but suddenly tripped on a bunch of miscellaneous items that Steven had put in front of the door in case robbers came to steal their Christmas presents. Santa fell towards the floor, bounced off of the couch, and crashed through the sliding door.

“ROBBER ALERT!” Steven cried.

Mr. Ross ran out with his boxers, bathrobe, and a baseball bat. Steven ran out with the nerf gun. Mrs. Ross followed Mr. Ross with a blanket. Deanna came out of her bedroom with some Hannah Montana apparel. Rachel emerged with a sour face and a Wii controller. April stayed in bed, sleeping through the whole thing. JP was still in a car over a thousand miles away, looking at mountains that never seemed to be getting any closer.

They all walked downstairs, seeing shiny black boots sticking out from behind the couch. They finally approached the red and white figure, who was clearly knocked unconscious.

“We killed Santa!” Deanna said.

“You jerks!” Steven said.

“No one killed Santa, he’s just, … very cranky that you kids are still up.” Mrs. Ross said.

“No, he looks pretty dead to me.” Rachel said dryly.

Mr. Ross checked Santa’s pulse, and ending all discussion, Santa was alive.

“Wake up Santa.”

Santa didn’t move. He only groaned.

“Come on Santa. Get up.” Deanna said.

Slowly but surely, Santa managed to get back up to his feet. He was still groggy, but he could finally make out the people who had suddenly woken him from an uncertain sleep. But where was April.

“Santa, why did you break our window?” Steve said.

“It was an accident, but I’m here for your women. How much for the little girl? How much for the girl?”

“What are you talking about Santa?” Mrs. Ross said.

Santa jumped from his seat and ran up to April/Rachel’s room. Grabbed a sleeping April and jumped out the window. Everyone heard a thud outside the window and went outside to check it out. Santa was again unconscious and April was just starting to wake up.

“What’s going on?” April said.

“Santa just tried to kidnap you.” Rachel said. “Too bad he failed.” She rolled her eyes.

Santa groaned again.

“Let’s get him into the house.” Mr. Ross said.

With a team effort, the Ross family managed to get Santa into the living room and on a couch. He woke up when Neo started licking his face. Slowly, Santa began to sob. No one knew quite why. He sobbed and he sobbed. Soon all the tissues and papertowels had been used. Santa’s beard was drenched in tears.

“If you don’t tell us what’s wrong, my mom will take an hour off of your bed time tomorrow.” Steve said

“Not my bed time.” Santa said. “You can’t do that.”

“Yes I can, I’m the mom.” Mrs. Ross replied.

So Santa explained the whole situation with his lack of a female counterpart and the Ross family felt bad for him. April suggested that he let the rest of the ladies go, because they would like to celebrate Christmas with their families, which Santa agreed to.

“You should go out to the clubs Santa. There are a lot of nice girls there. Or even Starbucks, you might find some smart ones there!” April said.

“Maybe you’re right.” Santa said. “That certainly would be better than all the kidnapping, sneaking around, and breaking and entering.”

“You think?” Rachel said sarcastically.

And Santa went home, released the girls, sent them all home via his awesome sleigh, and later went into the local tavern, where he discovered a very pretty bar maid. The Ross family, unfortunately, had to cover up the broken glass that they hoped their Grandpa would fix very soon. And everyone, lived happily ever after.

What the Winter Thunderstorm Brings with It

The movie finished and the tears started streaming.

She didn’t wear much makeup or eyeliner. She knew she didn’t have to around me. Beauty wasn’t in the appearance, it was in the demeanor I would tell her. Not that she didn’t look pretty. Quite the opposite, in fact, was true. Her eyes, even teary, emitted a sparkle of light. Or maybe that was just the reflection of the dim lighting from the screen. Either way, her green eyes looked stunning.

We sat in the seats for longer than necessary, enjoying the last bits of music during the credits. I stood, ready to leave. I reached for the plate that once held the overpriced sausage pizza. She reached for the last few drops of Diet Coke. Ice rattled in the oversized cup. Her motions seemed slow, not at all deliberate. She seemed as though she was torn between two conflicting thoughts and couldn’t make up her mind. She paused and looked up. I smiled and her face scrunched up a little bit, the way it always does just before she unleashes a torrent of tears. I wasn’t afraid … or worried. She looked gorgeous, despite the tears. No, I’m wrong. Not despite them. Because of them. She approached me and I took her into my arms, bringing her head to my chest. I looked into her eyes when she would glance up at me. Slight giggles would erupt between humming sobs. This was a happy cry I thought. I did something right. I smiled to myself. I smiled at her, at her beauty

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I replied.

Nothing more needed to be said, really.

The music changed to something a little more upbeat. Without any provocation, without any spoken words, we slowly moved our hips and feet to the rhythm of the guitar. She cried and I held her.

The theater was empty anyway. It appeared that maybe only four people seemed to be working that night. All of them waiting for the late night showings to end. In front of the large movie complex, only three cars sat unattended in the parking lot. Theater Eight had at least one hundred seats. And there we were, from nine forty-five until eleven thirty, all by ourselves, free to laugh or cry together. No lewd activity occurred.

I held out my hand for her to hold, and she took it gently. I beside her through the movie exit doors and out into the wet parking lot. A thunderstorm had raged earlier, thoroughly soaking anything porous on its downward path to the earth. There had been thunder, lighting, and torrential downpours. It almost got rid of all the snow on the ground. Odd weather for January. Fifty some degrees outside and rainy. Imagine if it had been a blizzard.

“I loved the movie.” She said while looking at the blacktop pavement.

“I want to live with you. I don’t need the insurance.” Her mother threatened to take away the health insurance if she decided to live with me.

I avoided the puddles. I realized that there was nothing more satisfying, nothing more comforting, that waking up in the morning with the person you love. I looked up at her and smiled. Mistake. I stepped into a large puddle. It doesn’t matter in the whole scheme of things.

We got into the van and she started craving ice cream. Women and their odd cravings. At least I got some ice cream. I never refuse ice cream. Even when I’m full.

We stopped at a popular ice cream eating establishment. The tears that had temporarily abated suddenly flowed harder than before. I couldn’t stop smiling. I hadn’t been this happy in a long time. My smiles made her smile. My smiles do tend to be contagious. I work mysterious magic with crying babies. Maybe I look like a clown. I do have a large Roman nose, and I personally think Roman noses are quite amusing.

“It’s a good cry babe.” She said with a tearful smile.

I know. I know, I thought.

“Do I cry too much?”

“Nope.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I replied. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

And nothing more needed to be said, really.

Callous

don't remember what song i wrote this one for, didn't finish it tho, i think it was going to be a political song about iraq or homeless kids or homeless kids in iraq, not sure haha

Look at those dark brown eyes
And honestly tell me its just a disguise
Has your heart turned to stone?
Nothing left but brittle bones.
Can you see the things that I see?

Their calloused feet
as they run through the street
remind me of the days
when I would go out and play.
But where do they go
When the sun set’s low?
Beneath scorched horizon line.

Legs

This one i know never got used, nor was it written for any particular song, just some lyrics we could fit things to if we ever wanted to use it

His legs are so strong
They can carry him anywhere he wants to go
Every hill is a new challenge
Every valley a temporary break
His legs know no boundaries

Have you ever seen a man
Walk across red hot coals
As though he were simply strutting on the sun
Have you ever seen a man
Step into a fiery red sunset
Without a care for the darkness on the other side

There are those who say
He will forget where he’s running to
That his legs will tire
Before he’s ever through.
But when a dream’s all you’ve ever had
You’ll search all across the land
Till you’re dead and at god’s right hand.

Little Man

if i remember correctly I wrote this one with April in her basement, good times

Little man, you’ve got to leave your home
Don’t be afraid to go it alone
Only Liars say your cards are read
And the liars end up dead

You’ve got to get going on your way
Straighten up, fly right, and seize the day
You’re friends are close behind
They’re always there to cast you a line

I’m telling you to go on your way
I will kick you out if you ask to stay
Can’t you see that you are not blind
Go ahead and walk that line

You’ve got to get going on your way
Straighten up, fly right, and seize the day
You’re friends are close behind
They’re always there to cast you a line

Hold on, little man, hold on tight
Don’t let your guard down
Don’t call it a night
It’s the morning of your new life’s day
Don’t let it slip away

Written for Other Song for Joe

May 17th

i wrote this one for spencer's 3/4 in A, i just listened to the rough version of the song he had and came up with whatever lyrics came to mind, we never had the chance to use it

On May 17^th
I hopped in my car.
Took a trip down to Austin.
And knew that I’d found what I’d been searching for.

When I arrived
A lightning storm struck
A fury of rain fell
Soaking my clothes

I lifted my arms
Smiled and said
“You can’t hold me down.”
“You can’t hold me down.”

It wasn’t long before
An old man who lives in the street
Said to me, “what are you doin’ here?
Take my hand
It’s time I showed you
Something you’ve never seen
in your entire life.”

He took me down
To the old green Guadalupe
And told me to wash them
At the cold waters edge
Until I knew I was new
Until I was new
Oh, Until I was new
Until I was new
(repeat if necessary)

Written for ¾ in A

Road Trip and Alt. to Song in G

the first two stanzas are the alternative that april and i were discussing before we came up with the lyrics that we later called "Road Trip"

She had knots knots in her hair
And food, food in her teeth
And those stockings hitched
High to her knees
Now her hair is smooth and her legs are clean

How do we even talk to her
She’s alien but still so pure
I wonder what her skin feels like
Do I dare to touch, do you think she’ll bite?

Road Trip

How many miles do we have left?
We left days ago from the Midwest
We’ve got big ambitions and not too much dough
Who knows how far this tank’ll go?

75 miles an hour
We search for ourselves
This road is winding
The wheels are grinding
In the next state
Who know’s what we might learn?

Macolm county line towards DC
Didn’t like that idea so we turned for Tennessee
After bathroom breaks then we hopped into the car
Changing your mind this many times won’t get you too far

Who knew that there were waves in the wheat?
We’re still in Kansas and I think I see the sea
Take your clothes off and come swimming with me
Come swim with me.

75 miles an hour
We search for ourselves
This road is winding
The wheels are grinding
In the next state
Who know’s what we might learn?

Now three AM and Annie’s asleep
Stars outside her window, her dreams are deep
Oh maybe she’s the one for me
This road holds so many possibilities
But now she sleeps.

The Sailor's Son

the next series of poems/lyrics were done for my good man Spencer who is a musical genius, lets hope that at some point the lyrics will be used for some art of musical grandeur

Look at all these letters
That you’ve sent to me
Two months then another
Always where you’ve been and
Never where you’ll be

Failed poets and ceaseless dreamers
Sailing the seven seas and dangerous waters
Bring the muse back to my country
Return to me, return to me, oh return to me

Like father and son, like father and son
Keeping from what’ll never be done, never be done

When you’re a sailor’s son
Never forget, everyone’ll take you for granted.
But don’t let that get you down
Cuz you’re stronger than the rest
And fight harder than the best
For all you’ve ever wanted.

The Strange Happenings at the Ross Household on Christmas Eve around Eleven o’Clock

haha, a funny story i wrote for the Ross family, ignore any typos

Introduction

Some things in this universe make complete and absolute sense. For example, it makes sense that when I pick my nose, I definitely do not eat the boogers. Or perhaps, the same is true for when I fall, it makes perfect sense to get back up, I cannot live on the ground forever. However, there are many things that are equally as confusing and strange that exist in the world. Consider two people. One is hurt in an automobile accident and breaks his left arm. The second person, let’s say, his brother, feels a sharp, uncomfortable pain in his arm at the exact same time, four hundred miles away. Now, I would say that it quite unexplainable by today’s traditional medical standards.

Of course, we think that these strange occurrences will never happen to us. No. Not possible. Never. Yet, sometimes, we just have to look a little closer. Imagine the possibility of the paranormal, if you will. Imagination unlocks our reality and society’s norms. When we are small children, we imagine constantly. I used to imagine I was an astronaut, traveling through space and discovering aliens from other planets. I’m sure you imagined as well.

What is extraordinarily different about this story is that it was not imagined. No, sir. This actually happened on Christmas Eve at the Ross household. Now, you cannot tell your parents about this story because they will never believe it. Where were Mr. and Mrs. Ross you may ask? Well, they went out after putting the four Ross children to bed to do some very last minute Christmas shopping. And it is here that our story begins ….

Chapter 1: The Adventures of Steven Robert Ross … or as I call him … Steve.

Mrs. Ross kissed Steve on the forehead and told him to go to sleep.

“We have a big day tomorrow.” She said. “Tons of presents to open. And you know that Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“But I want to hear him when he comes. I have so many questions to ask him … like what makes his reindeer fly.” Steve whined.

“You will be sorry if you stay up. You will be tired, cranky, and you won’t have any energy to open your presents. And whoever opens the present gets the present. So that means I will give all of your presents to Deanna and Rachel and they get to keep them.”

“You can’t do that!” Steve yelled.

“Oh yes I can.” Mrs. Ross said with a cynical smile on her face. “Now, get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Sighed Steve.

Mrs. Ross pulled the blanket over Steve’s chest and he gave her a pouty face to which she replied by sporting a radiant Christmas Eve smile. Mrs. Ross went downstairs and into the kitchen and told Deanna, who was drawing at the time, to go to bed. Deanna did as she was told and walked upstairs.

“You ready to go, hun.” Mr. Ross asked.

“Yes. One second. Let me get my jacket on. It’s really cold out tonight.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He said.

As the two approached the door, Mrs. Ross spoke to Rachel, who was playing on the computer and talking on Shur Turgal.

“Rachel, your father and I are going out for a bit. You should get ready for bed soon.”

“Mmf.” Rachel grunted.

“I love you too Rachel!” Dad joked.

“Ha ha, Dad.” Rachel replied sarcastically.

Mr. and Mrs. Ross left the house through the front door and entered the silver minivan to go shopping. JP and April came up from the basement after watching a Christmas movie to scrounge for late night Christmas Eve snacks. April kissed JP on the cheek while he drank some apple juice.

“Ewwwwwwwwww.” Steve groaned.

Steve had heard his mother and father leaving the house and ventured into the kitchen.

“Oh quiet you.” April said.

“You should be in bed silly pants.” JP said playfully.

“I’m going to stay up ‘til Santa comes.” Steve replied.

“You can’t. You’ll fall asleep. I know, I’ve tried.” JP said.

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes you will.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“NUH UH!”

“YUH HUH!”

“I WILL NOT!”

“Hmmm, touché. Well, we’ll see by the end of the night.”

“I’m going to my room.” Steve said.

“Take Neo with you. He keeps eating marshmallows.” April said.

“Okay. I guess I can do that. Come on Neo.”

Steve went upstairs with Neo and began reading the Magic School Bus stories when he suddenly heard a strange noise coming from one of his dresser drawers. Neo started barking at the noise and growling. Then, just as suddenly as the noise came, it went away. Neo stopped barking and finally meandered out of the room. Steve rested his head against the side of his bead and slowly began to drift off to sleep. The rattling from inside the dresser began again and brought him back to attention. Armed with his plastic light saber, Steve approached and opened the dresser. As soon as the drawer opened, a blinding flash of light filled the room and a figure jumped out of Steve’s underwear drawer. Steve stumbled, did a summersault, and nearly broke his leg when he tripped on the Magic School Bus book. The light returned to normal and a large man stood in the middle of Steve’s room. He was at least seven feet tall with an enormous potbelly hanging over his trousers that were barely being held up by black suspenders. His hair was disheveled and wild, shooting out in all directions. And his feet! He had enormous feet.

“OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!” The figure cried. “Your underwear is absolutely rank! Do you shower?!”

“AHHHHH!” Steve yelled. “HELP!”

“Oh shush boy. They can’t hear you. I’ve taken the liberty of sound proofing the room.”

“Who … who are you!?” Steve stammered.

“It doesn’t matter, boy. Now put that plastic light saber down. Plastic doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Are you a genie?” Steve asked.

“Well, in a way, yes I am. My actual title is Christmas Phantom. I work for the Big Man. You know? Santa Claus.”

“You work for Santa?”

“More or less. Some things I do are a little unorthodox, but he will never find out anyway.”

“Orthodontist what?”

“Haha, I forget you are only seven sometimes.”

“Hmm. If you are a genie, do I get wishes?”

“Why does everyone ask that? Can’t anyone just be content with what they’ve got?” The figure paused and sighed. “What do you want? Two wishes. Nothing outrageous I hope.”

“Hmmmm.” Steve thought hard about what he wanted. “I would like … a bajillion dollars and … I want to see Santa Claus tonight.”

“Well, bajillion isn’t a number, but one billion dollars seems to rhyme. Does that work?”

“Yes it does.”

“Mmmmk then, your wishes have been granted.

“Cool.”

“Interesting phrases you young one’s come up with. Some day I will learn about the Hip to the Hop that you kids listen to.”

“I don’t listen to that. I listen to classic rock.”

“YOU DO!?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Steve and the Christmas Phantom engaged in a long discussion ranging from the amazing guitar abilities of Jimi Hendrix to how Mrs. Ross listens to nothing else but Steely Dan. However, this is not just a story about Steve. No. We have much more to discuss. Now, during the Christmas Phantom escapade, Deanna thought she had heard a muffled cry for help coming from Steve’s room, assumed it was a boy being a boy, and decided to finish her drawing in the kitchen.

Chapter 2: The Strange Discoveries of Deanna Caroline Ross after Mr. and Mrs. Ross Had Left

Deanna, now in her pajamas, walked downstairs, passed Rachel who was going up the stairs to go to the bathroom, and took a seat at the kitchen table. She grabbed her pencil and began to draw beagles, birds, silly aliens, and an enormous (it was twenty feet according to the scale) Christmas tree complete with every imaginable decoration including candy canes, six different colored lights, and nutcracker ornaments. Deanna thought she heard something rustling in the dark living room. The only light was coming from the computer, and was definitely not enough light to see in the darkest corners. She saw a shadow moving and began to become very frightened. The figure moved closer quite quickly. The only thing Deanna could see was that the figure seemed to be covered in red clothing from head to toe. Suddenly … No … It couldn’t be … IT WAS! Santa Claus had appeared in the Ross family living room and ran past Deanna and went straight for the refrigerator. Deanna, still in shock, simply stared at Santa as he quickly scratched his butt and grabbed some eggs. He went straight for the cupboard full of plates, mysteriously knowing where to find them, cracked the eggs, and put the raw yokes onto the plate. Santa Claus paused for a moment, stared at the plate, and suddenly the eggs began to scramble themselves on the plate! Santa then grabbed a fork and sat down at the table. He began eating when he felt another presence in the room, slowly began to look up, and saw Deanna with a horrified look on her face.

“Uh oh.” Santa said with egg white crumbs in his snow white beard.

“Santa?” Deanna asked.

“How did I get here? One minute I’m in a house in Brooklyn and then I’m in Wauwatosa.”

“You’re Santa.”

“Yes little Deanna, we have already established that. We need to establish why and how I am here.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I know your name. I have your Christmas list in my pocket right here.”

“You can’t be the real Santa. You only come when I’m sleeping.”

“See, that is normally true, but somehow things get messed up once and a while and that’s how kids like you have Santa sightings.”

“How can I tell if you are the real Santa Claus?”

“Ok, you want proof? Here is some proof. See those drawings. How about I make them real?”

“No way!”

“Yes, way. Now, stand back darling.”

Santa Claus stared at Deanna’s piece of paper with the same intensity that he looked at those eggs. Only this time, the small pencil lines began to take shape and lift themselves from the paper. First, the beagles popped out and started barking at everything and eating the marshmallows that JP left on the floor. Then the birds started chirping and flying around the entire house. The aliens somehow passed out of the front door and UFO sightings were seen along I-45 on Christmas Day. Lastly, with a sudden crash, the twenty foot Christmas tree appeared in the living room, puncturing a gaping hole in the ceiling.

“Whoops.” Santa said. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“You are the real Santa!”

“Told you so. Now, I need to find out how I got here so I can continue my Christmas Eve rounds. Everyone has to get their presents you know. Let’s start looking around for who is responsibly for this.”

“Okay, but what are we going to do about … all of this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it; it’ll take care of itself.”

Santa and Deanna began their search by going downstairs into the basement. There they saw JP and April snuggling and watching a Christmas movie, nothing terribly out of the ordinary. JP thought he saw shiny black boots and red pants and Deanna’s little feet and called out to them.

“Deanna, who do you have with you?” JP asked.

“It’s … uh … It’s Steve, we’re playing dress up.” Deanna replied.

“Ummm, Steve doesn’t have size eleven feet does he?” JP asked April.

“Most definitely not.”

April looked in terror at JP thinking that a stranger had been let into the house. Without warning, a bird flew down the stairs chirping loudly. April screamed when the bird landed on her shoulder. JP shooed the bird off her shoulder and they both ran upstairs running into Santa and Deanna, forgetting for a moment the perceived intruder. Santa yelled, Deanna got knocked to the ground and started crying not because she was hurt, but mostly because everyone was yelling and screaming and it seemed like the right thing to do. Santa jumped to his feet, picked up Deanna and ran upstairs, tried to get into the bathroom, which was locked, tried Steve’s room, which was also locked, and simply decided to burst Steve’s door open in a fit of fright.

Steve and the Christmas Phantom were sitting on the bed playing checkers while discussing the meanings of Bob Dylan’s songs when the door suddenly burst into splinters. What happened next can only be described as awkward. Santa and Deanna stood staring at Steve and the Christmas Phantom in the doorway. Steve and the Christmas Phantom sat staring at Santa and Deanna.

“YOU!” Santa bellowed.

“Uh oh.” The Christmas Phantom muttered.

For a moment, no one said a word. Steve and Deanna looked back and forth from Santa to the Christmas Phantom, waiting to see what was going to happen next. A bird flew into the room and everyone watched as it settled on Steve’s dresser. Still, no one moved. The bird chirped and suddenly Santa lunged for the Christmas Phantom. The Christmas Phantom screamed like a little girl and started running around the room. Unfortunately for Santa Claus, his portly belly made it a little difficult to catch the Phantom. The Phantom jumped from Steve’s bed to the floor, ran around a box of comics in the middle of the room, and jumped back onto Steve’s bed. Santa Claus tripped on the Magic School Bus book and fell with a thud to the floor. However, even with his portly belly, Santa still has quick reflexes. Santa jumped back up from the floor, managed to grab the Christmas Phantom, and to everyone’s horror, they both went crashing into the wall.

Chapter 3: Rachel Morel Ross’s Unfortunate Encounter Following a Loud Crash

If you, the reader, have a good enough memory, you will remember that before Deanna saw Santa Claus in the kitchen, she saw Rachel going up the stairs to the bathroom. Rachel went to the bathroom for a much needed break after sitting at the computer without moving for three hours. She had barely been in the bathroom for two minutes before she heard a loud crash, barking, chirping and strange swooshing noises coming from downstairs. She just moved towards the wall, hoping that whatever it was downstairs was not going to come upstairs, and definitely hoping that it did not try coming into the bathroom. She then heard a few screams and yells coming from the stairs that lead to the basement and then the thunder of footsteps coming right upstairs not too long after. This can not be good Rachel thought. The bathroom door jolted and Rachel curled herself into the smallest ball possible, hoping to not be heard. Someone broke what sounded like Steve’s door and then she heard nothing. The whole house went silent for what seemed an eternity before erupting in more crashes from Steve’s room. Without any explanation, a flailing ball of red and some other tall guy broke through the wall of the bathroom and landed, still fighting, onto the floor. Rachel jumped into the tub to avoid getting hurt when silence once again came over the house. Rachel peeked her head above the rim of the tub to see what just made such a ruckus and was surprised to see Santa Claus, wheezing, and some other funnily dressed guy who looked exhausted.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rachel asked in a monotone voice.

Santa and the Christmas Phantom looked at each other for a moment and suddenly began laughing uncontrollably.

“Oops.” Santa said, still giggling. “Didn’t mean to do that, did we?”

“Most certainly not.” The Christmas Phantom said.

“Oops. That’s all you have to say for yourselves? You just broke through the bathroom wall. I’m probably going to have to clean all this up.”

“Oh, don’t worry Rachel, everything will be fine.” Santa said.

“Number one, everything is not fine. Look at all of this plaster and glass. Number two, there is no way that I will be able to fix a gaping hole in the wall before my parents get home.”

“Ha! She doesn’t believe you can do it Papa Claus!” The Phantom said.

“You want to see a little magic Rachel. Watch this!” Santa said.

Santa stared hard at the floor and hole in the wall and all of the little broken splinters of wood, plaster and shards of glass began to move on their own. Then, with suctioning noise, all of the pieces fit back together perfectly. Rachel got out of the tub and looked at the wall.

“There isn’t even a scratch!” She said. It must have been the first enthusiastic thing she had said in weeks.

“A little bit of Christmas magic never hurt anybody.” Santa said.

JP and April, finally upstairs, managed to pry the bathroom door open and saw Santa, the Phantom, and Rachel all in the bathroom together. Steve and Deanna were also in the bathroom doorway with JP and April, and were mostly wondering how a hole the size of a car had been mysteriously fixed.

“You have some explaining to do Rachel!” April said.

“What!? Why does everyone blame me for everything?” Rachel replied.

“Because we can!” JP, April, Steve, and Deanna answered.

“Well, I didn’t do it, so you all can just be quiet.”

“Again, touché.” JP said.

“I think Santa has some explaining to do.” Said the Christmas Phantom.

“Yes, yes I do. It’s probably not too hard to see, but every year, fewer and fewer people believe in me. The Christmas Phantom and I disagree about whether some bad children should get presents, so he left the North Pole many years ago. Every year he makes a little trouble and forces me to come and fix it all up. I never know when or where he will strike, so it is always a surprise for me. Luckily, he only bothers me on Christmas Eve. Sometimes little brothers can be so annoying!”

“Wait. He’s your brother?” Deanna asked.

“Of course he is! Can’t you see the resemblance?” Santa said.

“No. Do you have different mothers?” Rachel said.

“Rachel!” April barked.

“Haha, no worries April. We get that all the time.” Said the Christmas Phantom. “It just so happens that I received my stunning good looks from our mother. And poor Chris over there received his looks from our father, who looked like he had been hit by a train.”

“It’s true.” Santa said with a smile. “But look who’s married.”

“Indeed.” The Christmas Phantom said.

“Well, now to something that I actually care about.” Rachel said while rolling her eyes. “Our parents are gonna be home soon and you better fix up this house.”

Just then, Neo ran into the room, no longer afraid of the other beagles and birds in the house and found new subjects to bark at, Santa and the Christmas Phantom. Neo liked them instantly and started nudging his head against Santa in order to be scratched under the collar.

“I think we should get going now.” Santa said. “I have the rest of the world to deliver presents to.”

“Yes, I have caused enough trouble for one night.” The Christmas Phantom sighed.

“Let’s go fix everything quickly.” Santa said. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

“What about them?” The Phantom asked.

“Oh yes, I nearly forgot.” Santa replied.

With a wave of his hand, Santa put everyone but his brother to sleep around the bathroom doorway. Rachel fell asleep, still in the tub. Deanna crumpled onto Steven who subsequently let out a small groan. April fell asleep and her right arm somehow managed to rest cutely upon Deanna’s shoulder. JP fell backwards, rolled down the stairs, narrowly escaped harm, and smiled. Santa walked downstairs with the Christmas Phantom and began to fix everything in the house, first by removing all of the birds and dogs. The aliens were already too far away to get rid of. The two brothers looked around, smiled, and decided it was time to get back to business. One minute later, Mr. and Mrs. Ross walked into the house. They saw JP on the ground first and walked up the stairs to see what must have looked quite odd. After getting everyone into bed, Mr. and Mrs. Ross unexpectedly walked to the living room to find an enormous Christmas tree that had made a large hole in the ceiling. Needless to say, they were confused and infuriated, which are responses that make sense to me. I told you everything makes sense, didn’t I?

Don't Be Scared

Don’t be scared for I am right here
Ready to hold you
And guide you into the light
The darkness can be frightening
And a bolt of lightning can blind your eyes
But it’s equally as comforting
It just takes a little getting used to
Then it’s exhilarating
To move on without your eyes
With my hand holding yours
Sense of touch and smell and sound
And when the rain falls on your luscious lips
During that late night thunderstorm
The moisture makes each kiss fonder
So let me lead you into the light
Just take my hand

Parka

Don’t you just hate getting ripped into and not having a response? You always feel outwitted. If you come up with anything it’s the quickest and most versatile phrase, FUCK YOU! Now, I’m not saying fuck you isn’t a good phrase. It can be heart stopping if well timed and well placed in a conversation or argument. The look on the opponents face should be a “Aw naw you di’nt” after a fuck you. But we all know that if overused, the term “fuck you” loses its power. Just the other day I was musing about my Freshman and Sophomore math teacher, who, when asked when we would be able to see our tests, would respond, when hell freezes over. I have always hated that. I thought, “Damn, what can I say to that?” Now, it had to be reasonable and not off the charts. It couldn’t be a hearty “FUCK YOU”, or I would have been brutally hauled away and yelled at. No. I needed something witty, yet civil. Something quotable, a classic to be remembered and used in novels and movies. Well, I have finally done it. Unfortunately, the response came to me much too late to be of any use in the past. However, for those of you of the future, keep this response in mind.

Sample conversation:

Student: When will we be getting our tests back?

Teacher: When hell freezes over.

Student: I will be waiting here with my parka.

It works. It shows resilience. It shows wit. In time someone will find a response to the parka remark and my services may be needed again. But until then my friends, I retreat for the evening with this little gift to the world.

Sarah

i think i was listening to pearl jam when i wrote this one

There’s one thing we all wish for.
Whether it works or not is another chore.
It starts really early,
And never, never gets old.

Sarah, Sarah
Where have you gone?
No one’s seen you
For so long.
This party inside
Just isn’t the same without you.
We drove for miles,
Just looking for you.

I remember when
I was icky and you had cooties too.
We played tag, kissed
And I gave you the flu.

On a sunny junior high day,
We sat up in a tree,
You looked into my eyes
And I said I like liked you too.

It didn’t take me long
To know that I loved you.
And so together,
We held each other
While sitting under the stars.

I called your house,
And no one picked up the phone.
I drove to you house,
But no one was home.

Then I got a call
From a sobbing old man.
It took me a while
Just to understand.
It was Sarah’s father
“Son, I have some bad news.”

..."she's gone"

And So I say Go Go Go

a little inspiration for my fellow college students who are feeling senioritis ... and it's only the first semester, also unfinished

When the time runs down
And you can’t keep the clock from ticking,
Live with what you’ve got
And never stop searching.

And as the sun goes down,
Your shadow shifts and keeps getting longer.
The second hand just ticks faster
Leaving you in the pale moonlight.

And so I say
Go Go Go
Those dreams aren’t getting in closer.
And so I say
Go Go Go
Time isn’t going any slower.

The fire in the sky’s gonna keep burning
Don’t worry about the imperfections
Just do it and get it done
And then go out and have some fun.

Behind Closed Doors

As the sun sets
On this city,
The sad retreat
To their broken homes.

Night falls
And no one knows
What happens
Behind closed doors?

The sun rises
And dried tears
Fuel fake smiles
All day long.

Shatter the glass
Pick up the pieces
And move on.
Ignite the gas
Put out the fire
And move on.

Papa died
Only mommy
Knows the truth.
She won’t tell me
She only cries herself to sleep.

The mean man came
Asking for money
Mommy yells
The mean man slaps her
Then I kick him
He pushed me down
I cried myself to sleep.

In the morning
I went to school.
Mommy cried
No lunch money.

I played with friends
I smiled and started laughing.
Carrie stuck her tongue out
Teacher says she likes me.

No one
Comes to get me.
I wait
And watch the sunset.
My mommy showed me
The sky is so pretty.

Teacher and me
Sit on the steps.
Mommy never comes.
Police come
And take me home.
I cry myself to sleep.
The mean man says
“Tomorrow you have school.”
And I say,
“Yes, I know I do.”

As the sun sets
On this city,
The sad retreat
To their broken homes.

Night falls
And no one knows
What happens
Behind closed doors?

The sun rises
And dried tears
Fuel fake smiles
All day long.

Shatter the glass
Pick up the pieces
And move on.
Ignite the gas
Put out the fire
And move on.

yeah, made me kinda depressed writing it

Pressman

Ladies and gentlemen of the press,
And to the powers that be,
There is an evil darkness
That wants us to flee.

But today, today it’s time to change that.
We won’t wave Teddy’s stick
We’ll wave our barbed wire bat.
Delivering a hearty kick.

So follow me, follow me into the dark abyss.
Together we can stop this.
Save the world from this sickness.
Preventing us from having bliss.

Do you know your neighbor?
Where does he go at night?
Watch his door
And be ready for a fight.

Ladies and gentlemen of the press,
And to the powers that be,
There is an evil darkness
That wants us to flee.

See that boy with a turban on his head
He’d rather see you that you’re dead
Before you have your vote
Or get on a boat
To live here.

No, this isn’t fear
This is common sense.
Make sure to drink a beer
And build a fence.
We don’t want anymore here.

Keep the gun under your pillow
Just keep up the flow

.... yeah, didn't finish this one, story of my life

The Guillotine

hey, what are friends for? I wrote this one for my good man Spencer Jenich (a musical genius if you didn't know). Enjoy ... or not, I really don't care. I thought it was cool anyway. hmmm, I need to post on this thing more often, there is something quite gratifying about it.

Peace.

Where you gonna be
when they bring out the guillotine?
And whatcha gonna wear
When they lead you up those wooden stairs?

Sitting in the dirty cell
Pondering life’s meaning
And where does it all go from here?
A life, unfinished
Carried away in a cool gentle breeze.
Slowly floating away.

The sun never rises
For those in the sewers
Stealing to get by in this insane modern world.
And so we punish the poor
To keep them out of sight.
Out of sight, out of mind,
Are we happier this way?

Your time has now arrived.
The chains clink
With every step you take.
The sky is cloudy
And a thick fog covers the ground.

Where you gonna be
when they bring out the guillotine?
And whatcha gonna wear
When they lead you up those wooden stairs?

Any last wishes for man doomed to die.
“I wish for peace.
I wish for love.
And, sir, most of all,
I wish you’d go straight to hell.”
With a roar the crowd yelled for more,
Who is this man,
who dares speak this way?
Doesn’t he know,
The guillotine is on its way?

With his few last words
He cried to the people,
“Look and see what you’ve done.
You made me who I am.
My time has come,
But I call to you all,
I’m more than just one man.”

So, Where you gonna be
when they bring out the guillotine?
And whatcha gonna wear
When they lead you up those wooden stairs?

MUHS College Experience: Post #5

Again, Thomas Shea ….

“Okay. So, me, Radler and three other guys from our hall go over to the Annex to get a couple of bowls in on the alley. So, we start our first game and get through that easily enough. Then, as the second game is starting, this black guy comes walking in, smoking a cigar, looking a little ghetto and had two women walking behind him. He goes up to one of the guys, says something, then walks my way and goes to shake my hand. I shake it and he proceeds to say, “Hey man, want some pussy tonight? I got a good deal.” I look at him for a second wondering if he’s real or if it’s just a joke. I realize he is serious and I say, “No no. Thanks, I already got mine tonight.” So, then he goes over to two of the other guys from my wing and starts hustling them. They told me that he said, “Yo. Look over at them pretty eyes. Look at them. Would you like to take one of them home?” Then my friend proceeds to tell him that he’s all tanked out already and couldn’t go anymore. Then the pimp and the hoe’s proceed to leave the annex and we are all wondering what the fuck just happened because you can’t get in past the security guard.”

Indeed Thomas. What ever did happen to that security guard? I suppose we will never know.

MUHS College Experience: Post #4

Krco. The legendary, heroic, … and stunningly gorgeous younger Krco told me this story. If you know Krco, his language is deliberate and unique, making his story telling hilarious and intriguing, almost indescribable. So, without further ado, a Matt Krco College Classic.

“You want a story?! Here’s a story. I threw a ginger ale pong party. And we chanted chug really loudly to try and get busted. And then some people came in and realized it wasn’t actually beer and got mad and left. Then the housefellow came in and said, sorry guys, but I’m going to have to write you up for drinking. And we were all, It’s ginger ale!!! And it was awesome. The end.”

I love you Matt Krco.

Upon further discussions with Raman Kutty, who was a guest at this party, I was informed that it was Seagram’s Ginger Ale.