Wednesday, November 30, 2011

We're gonna need a bigger boat...

This fish story courtesy of BUZZFEED

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THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERHERO GIRL has a super-substitute!

This is the first I've heard of the movie INKUBUS but damn... Robert Englund hasn't lost his touch...

From BRUTALASHELL

 

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A few scenes of the JOHN CARTER trailer fills this D&D player's heart with glee!

Want to read a synopsis of the plot of the new AKIRA movie? I wish I hadn't...

From the noble and long-suffering TOPLESS ROBOT

Kaneda is a bar owner in Neo-Manhattan who is stunned when his brother, Tetsuo, is abducted by government agents led by The Colonel. esperate to get his brother back, Kaneda agrees to join with Ky Reed and her underground movement who are intent on revealing to the world what truly happened to New York City thirty years ago when it was destroyed. Kaneda believes their theories to be ludicrous but after finding his brother again, is shocked when he displays telekinetic powers. Ky believes Tetsuo is headed to release a young boy, Akira, who has taken control of Tetsuo's mind. Kaneda clashes with The Colonel's troops on his way to stop Tetsuo from releasing Akira but arrives too late. Akira soon emerges from his prison courtesy of Tetsuo as Kaneda races in to save his brother before Akira once again destroys Manhattan island, as he did thirty years ago...

 

 

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

THE COLD INSIDE (a serial novel) Chapter Four part three

THE COLD INSIDE

Chapter Four

part three

By AL BRUNO III


Tuesday November 8, 1994




Warren Talbot often said, “Dodge ball is proof of man’s inhumanity to man. Think about it. You take twenty adolescent boys of varying temperaments and sizes. Make them change clothes together in a smelly locker room. Then make them do calisthenics in a drafty gymnasium. Once they’re all worked up and miserable pass out the volleyballs and let them assault each other for fifteen minutes. What is that supposed to teach us? How is that going to help us in a job interview? I can’t believe my Dad is paying for this!


Tubbo needs to learn to take his pleasures where he can. Tristam thought as he dove for cover. A volleyball whizzed over his head. The polished wood of the gymnasium floor squealed against the flesh of his legs. For Tristam there was no feeling quite like the feeling he got when he bested the jocks in their own element.


Especially now that he was the whipping boy of choice among Blessed Heart’s student elite; “Everybody aim for the freak. Everybody aim for the Dog-boy.”


Greg was already sitting in the bleachers. He just let them tag him out, he didn’t even try to dodge. Tristam wasn’t sure if he did that because of his old injuries or because he just didn’t care. Tristram wondered if maybe it was a Christian thing.


Another volleyball came sailing his way but this time Tristam caught it. That was three guys he’d taken out this round so far.


“You’re dead meat!” a jock shouted as the coach waved him to the sidelines.


Tristam hurled the ball at another one of his tormentors but the shot went wide of the mark. A dribbling thump alerted him to the fact Coach Jones had brought another ball into play. That made three.


The jocks started coordinating their attacks, trying to hem him in. Tristam ducked and ran while the gym teacher looked on with an air of bored distraction.


It would be nice, Tristam thought, if they threw the damn things at each other once in a while.


He caught another ball, tagged another of his adversaries out. From up in the bleachers Greg whistled and clapped, “Vive la resistance!”


They were incensed now, cursing at him, threatening to beat him or worse. The gym teacher issued a warning growl about sportsmanship and then rolled another ball onto the field.


Great.


One ball hit Tristam in the leg, a second in the stomach. He doubled over, more out of surprise than anything else. As per the rules he retired to the bleachers, an eruption of raucous jeering at his back.


“Man what a wuss!”


“Dodges like a retard!”


“I should have nailed him in the face.”


Greg was on his feet, trying to boo them down. Evan Crawford- late of the football team and the honor roll- shouted, “Watch your fucking mouth Graveyard!” and flung the volleyball he was holding at him.


The ball missed, barely. The Gym Teacher grabbed Evan by the back of the neck and started scolding him.


Tristam sat down next to Greg, “You OK?”


He shrugged “That was nothing. Are you OK?”


“Just once I wish they’d acknowledge I out-played them.”


“You know you outplayed them that’s enough.”


“It should be, but its not.”


Now that Tristam was off the field the game had become much more fast-paced and friendly. Evan was running laps, a miserable expression on his face. Greg watched it with a kind of detached air, “They just need someone to pick on. If not us it would be someone else.”


“I can’t believe I was ever like them.”


“I have witnesses.” Greg said slyly.


Tristam stared at his hands, he could feel the coldness building within him, feeding on itself. He tried to use the exercises Dr. Butterfield taught him, but there was something inviting giving in to his rage, “All this because of a damn dog.”


“All this because of a plea bargain. If you were innocent you should have gone to trial.”


“My Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear of it. I’d shamed them enough.”


“Did you do it?”


“I took the stupid plea bargain, that says it all doesn’t it?”


“Not always,” Greg said. “Just remember that God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle.


“That’s a load of crap.”


“No it’s not. It’s all part of God’s plan.”


Tristam waved his hand dismissively, “Sorry. No God. No plan. Life sucks then you die.”


“Now you’re just being pissy. I know there’s something else after all this. When I died...”

The coach blew his whistle, ending the game and sending them all back to the locker room to get changed. Tristam waited with Greg for the others to file in to the locker room, it was safer that way. “You were dreaming. My Dad said that the brain dreams for about five to ten minutes after the body stops breathing.”


Greg laughed a little, “Your Dad must be a real ball at Christmas.”



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BUZZFEED shows us 25 animals that want to kill themselves

Here are my favorites

 

 

 

 

Click here for the rest of this sad sad group.

Weirdest Christmas Card EVER?

And now Amanda Palmer wearing a dress made of sporks

Don't ever change young lady...

 

 

For more stop by her blog... this one is NSFW too...  what is up with me today?

 

And I can't let an Amanda Palmer related post go by without one of her tunes...

 

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I found the picture and Ray Garton added the awesome...

Ok... Gary Busey has a novel coming out... only the trailer for PIRANA 3DD can keep me from jumping off the roof...

 

From FAMOUS MONSTERS about his role in the new PIRANHA movie.

“I play a farmer. A cow explodes because of its farting ability and out of it come hundreds of piranha, raining down on me. You’ll see how I treat one of them.”

For more Busey fun, read the full Empire interview linked above to read about his upcoming novel BUSEYISMS. For more PIRANHA 3DD fun, check out the teaser trailer below and be pumped for its release next year...

 

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The ice skating version of the movie ALIENS has destroyed my mind!

WOW. Just wow.

 

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(Recommended Article) Luke McKinney's "The 7 Most Elaborate Dick Moves in Online Gaming History"

Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games (MMORPGs) are a psychological test we pay to fail. We've looked at the biggest dick moves in online gaming before, but multiplayer games are just like the rest of the Internet -- no matter how big a dick you've seen, somewhere there's an even bigger one doing unspeakable things to people...

 

click here to read the rest

 

 It is a really funny article, and it serves as a reminder for why I don't game online anymore. I used to back in the days of MUDs and MUSHes but I really perfer playing with myself these days.

 

Wait... that didn't sound right...

 

Article found via BUZZFEED

Michael Bukowski's version of the Wamp is a dream come true!

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Remaindered, Rejected And Irreconcilable part eight

Price Breaks And Heartaches

A journal of retail and failed romance

Chapter Eight

Remaindered, Rejected And Irreconcilable

part eight




Frank was in the back room of Ivanhoe Books Incorporated, taking a much needed break. Yasmin and I left him alone back there so he could get his head together, and honestly the sound of his sobs was disturbing us.


As Yasmin ran the register I put the miniature Christmas tree back on the counter. Glass ornaments had rolled everywhere and several had been shattered by the footsteps of unwary customers. I was determined to save as many of the little spheres as I could.


One of them had rolled beneath the romance novel shelves and I was trying to poke it free with the end of a broom. Then I realized someone was watching me.


“Tallulah!” I smiled and got to my feet.


“Hey Al,” she let me hug her but turned away when I went in for a kiss.


“Something wrong?”


“I’m just not in the mood for public displays of affection.”


That didn’t surprise me. She hadn’t been in the mood for pubic displays of affection either lately. “So why are you here?”


“Christmas shopping,” she said flatly.


I brightened up, “If you need anything here you can use my discount.”


“Don’t bother.”


That did it, I still don’t know why but that did it. “You know something?” I began, “I’m getting really tired of your bullshit.”


“How do you think I feel?”


“I’d love to know how you feel,” my voice was a furious whisper, “maybe you should try talking to me!”


“I have been talking to you,” Tallulah said, “I’ve been talking to you for weeks but you won’t listen.”


“Listen to what? What do you want? I love you.”


“Those are just words.”


Is there anything that stings more than telling someone I love you and not hearing I love you too in return? I felt like I’d been stung and my soul was about to go into anaphylactic shock.


“Just words?” I said, “It wasn’t just words before.”


Tallulah didn’t say anything, she just rolled her eyes. That made me even madder.


“You know what?” I continued, “If saying I love you isn’t enough anymore maybe you should just get lost. There are plenty of other girls out there.”


I watched her storm off, I felt angry and heartbroken all at once. I felt like everyone was staring at me. One of the friars that operated Northway Mall’s improbable church shook his head, “Women huh?”


There was still an hour left before closing time so I decided to channel my rage into putting the new arrivals in the romance section. As I shoved each Harlequin paperback onto the shelf with spine breaking force, I read each title aloud in a mocking growl.


“Oh.” I sneered, “Love Me Like A Rock. What the fuck does that mean?”


SLAM!


What the Heart Knows? Does the heart know when it’s going to be torn out and wiped across someone’s ass?”


CRACK!


In the Midnight of His Heart? That is the shittiest title I’ve ever heard!”


WHACK


“Al?” Frank approached me, he looked a little pale but he seemed all right again. He handed me an envelope, “Some girl left this for you.”


How could I not recognize Tallulah’s handwriting “What? Where is she?”


“She left already.”


“Damn.”


“Is everything OK?” Frank asked.


“Yeah I guess.” I in sighed heavily.


“Are you sure? Your eyes are watering.”


“…well I might need a minute in the back room OK?”


Frank nodded, “I hear you buddy.”


I let myself in the store's backroom and opened the envelope;


You utter shit. I’ve seen how the men in your family are, I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree does it?


I hope you end up just as miserable as they are. Merry fucking Christmas.


“At least she wished me a merry Christmas.” I said after the fifth time I read the note, “I suppose that’s a good sign isn’t it?”





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MOST IMPORTANT NEWS EVER!!!!!!



"Let's all go to the lobby. Let's all go to the lobby. Let's all go to the lobby and then scream WTF!"

What is this? Zalgo goes to the drive in?

 

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Will you grin at the trailer to SMILEY?

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Hey MSties! It's Ab3's Online Turkey Day Part Six!

 

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Hey MSties! It's Ab3's Online Turkey Day Part Five!

 

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Hey MSties! It's Ab3's Online Turkey Day Part Four!

 

 

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Hey MSties! It's Ab3's Online Turkey Day Part Three!

art by Andrew DIckman

 

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Hey MSties! It's Ab3's Online Turkey Day Part Two!

 

 

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Hey MSties! It's Ab3's Online Turkey Day Part One!

 

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Happy Thanksgiving To All My Friends And Followers!

Stay out of trouble you guys and gals!

 

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety

The importance of Thanksgiving turkey isn't tradition it's the tryptophan keeping family members too drowsy to murder each other.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eighty Nine

Dave couldn't believe his doctor wanted him to steal iPads but that's what he said- “Take two tablets and call me in the morning.”

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Let's spend some NIGHTS WITH THE DOCTOR

Here are the four DOCTOR WHO mini-episodes on the latest box set...

 

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What are the chances you exist? ...whoa I didn't know there would be math!

DOCTOR WHO - the greatest show in the galaxy - is 48 years old today!

That's right. The first episode ever was transmitted today.

 

art by Kurt Wood

 

Happy Anniversary to my favorite show ever!

 

And be sure to stop by Kurt Wood's site for more awesome artwork.

THE COLD INSIDE (a serial novel) Chapter Four part two

THE COLD INSIDE

Chapter Four

part two

By AL BRUNO III


Tuesday November 8, 1994




Yesterday’s food fight had the cafeteria staff on edge, they walked between the rows of tables with steely-eyed vigilance. The Magnificent Seven were at their usual spot. Warren, Rich and Drew were having one of their usual arguments. “Look,” Warren said, “I’m not denying that Tolkien did some great stuff I’m just saying that the Dragonlance series is better.”


Drew shook her head, “While Tolkien may be somewhat responsible for the popularity of fantasy- it has nothing to do with the quality of his stuff. It’s the simple fact he got there first. Wiess and Hickman took what he started and improved on it.”


“Oh please.”


Rich looked up from his paperback, “Hello people. Tolkien didn’t start anything. Ever heard of Edmund Spencer? Lord Dunsany? William Shakespeare?”


Warren’s jaw dropped, “You... didn’t mention Michael Moorcock.”


“I know. He didn’t start the fantasy genre. He just perfected it. He improved on the ideas that came before him.”


Drew snorted, “That is like saying that food tastes better after it has been regurgitated.”


“Hey!” Adelphos dropped his chicken salad on white bread, “Do you mind?”


“Sorry,” she blushed making the birthmark on her right cheek all the more evident.


He shook his finger at her with mock severity “Getting so a man can’t eat a damn sandwich around here.”


“Sheesh. I said I was sorry.”


Someone from one of the middle tables tossed a half-eaten apple in a high arc. Before it could bounce off the side of the trash can and hit the floor the apple thrower was surrounded by stern-faced teachers and nuns.


Greg laughed a little “Another one bites the dust.”


“Hm?” Tristam looked up from his leftover pizza, “What?”


“I said you’re a little preoccupied today. Is everything all right?”


“Lot on my mind,” he glanced at Monique. What the Hell was she doing with Bobby Hilton? They were acting awfully chummy.


“Like?”


“What would you do if you had super powers?”


Greg laughed nervously, “What?”


“Honestly. What if you could do anything?”


“This is the kind of question that occupies your precious free time?”


“Yes. Now what would you do if you had super powers? What if no one could stop you?”


Yusuf piped up, “I wouldn’t go wearing a cape in public that’s for sure.”


“He’s right.” Adelphos nodded, “The cape is passe.”


“What kind of powers?” Greg asked.


“Maybe you could be like Warren and have the power to make deli trays disappear,” Rich snorted.


Warren shook his head sadly “Et tu Dickhead?”


“Let’s say standard Superman powers.” Tristam said, “What would you do? What wouldn’t you do?”


Drew smiled, “You could fight crime. You could end war, feed the hungry, stop plane crashes.”


Adelphos nodded “See through girls’ clothes from miles away with telescopic x-ray vision.”


Yusuf gasped “I would never leave the house.”


“So,” Greg shook his head, “I should put you two down for evil then?”


“That kind of behavior is more of a Chaotic Neutral” Rich corrected.


Tristam stole another glance at Monique, “What would you do Greg?”


Greg adjusted his glasses, “I’m not much into super heroes.”



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Tuesday, November 22, 2011

I don't think I've ever seen a trailer quite like the trailer for ELFIE HOPKINS

Whoah...

 

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HEY LOOK BEHIND YOU has found another great short film.

Take a few minutes out from your day and watch IN CHAMBERS

 

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5 Second Fiction One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eighty Eight

He wrote a Christmas carol about a rooster wearing a necklace of chimes but no one would sing about the “Jingle Bell Cock”.

(Recommended Art) Check out the work of Nathaniel Pilgrim

Slenderman vs Clint Eastwood? I don't know much about art but I know what I like!

 

 

For more check out his blog.

 

And his facebook page.

Well look at that, an online petition to cast Justin Bieber in the proposed DOCTOR WHO movie... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Official character posters for THE DARK KNIGHT RISES

 

 

 

Ok I don't think this last one is offical...

 

Ripped from the headlines...

Monday, November 21, 2011

Is this that Spider-Man musical I've heard all about?

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5 Second Fiction One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eighty Seven

The crimefighter known as Dr. Hercules gets stronger when he gets angrier which is why he reads YOUTUBE comments in his spare time.

(Insane News) Gingrich: Laws preventing child labor are 'truly stupid'

Newt Gingrich proposed a plan Friday that would allow poor children to clean their schools for money, saying such a setup would both allow students to earn income and endow them with a strong work ethic.

Speaking at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government, the former House Speaker said his system would be an improvement on current child labor laws, which he called "truly stupid."

"It is tragic what we do in the poorest neighborhoods, entrapping children in child laws which are truly stupid," Gingrich said. "Saying to people you shouldn't go to work before you're 14, 16. You're totally poor, you're in a school that's failing with a teacher that's failing."

Gingrich then proposed a system he said would help those students rise from poverty.

"I tried for years to have a very simple model. These schools should get rid of unionized janitors, have one master janitor, pay local students to take care of the school. The kids would actually do work; they'd have cash; they'd have pride in the schools. They'd begin the process of rising..."

For the rest stop by CNN.COM

A heaping slice of Newt Gingrich's America

Damn you DC Comics Reboot! DAMN YOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!

And just when you thought the world couldn't get any more insane RETURN OF THE KILLER SHREWS!

 

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Sunday, November 20, 2011

Remaindered, Rejected And Irreconcilable part seven

Price Breaks And Heartaches

A journal of retail and failed romance

Chapter Eight

Remaindered, Rejected And Irreconcilable

part seven




Every day Tallulah grew a little colder towards me and I still didn’t understand what I was doing wrong. I wanted to call a time out but the cycle of work and college still spilled out around me.


*


I got home from school to find a pile of manila envelopes waiting for me. I didn’t even have to open them to know what that they were rejection slips, if they’re going to buy your work they don’t send your manuscript back. Grumbling with resignation I opened each of them and read the rejection slips contained inside.


“...too violent.” One said


“...we don’t take stories about vampires, werewolves or other horror tropes.” Said another.


“...we really enjoyed this story but it was not quite for us.” That kind bugged me the most, it was the literary equivalent of a girl telling you “I love you like a friend.”


I dutifully marked these manuscripts off on my checklist and began thinking about where to send them next. Should I send the super-violent story to a low-paying market that was looking for extreme horror? Should I send the story about vampires and werewolves to my favorite magazine The Horror Show?


“Did you sell anything?” a familiar voice asked.


“Hi Grandma.” I said.


She asked again, “Did you?”


“Nope.”


“When are you going to stop wasting your time?” I looked up from my papers and saw she was scowling, “You’re not a writer.”


“Sure I am,” I tried to keep my voice neutral, “and when I get published I’ll be an author.”


“No one is gonna publish you. I’ve read your stories they’re crap.”


This was all I needed, a rejection slip from my grandmother. “I need to get ready for work.”


She called after me, “You think your girlfriend is going to support you? You’d be better off selling shoes!”


I was simmering with rage by the time I got into my car, there were a thousand hateful things right on the tip of my tongue but I choked them down. My family and I had spent most of the 80’s saying hateful things to each other and I wanted it to stop. I really did.


It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard this thing before, my grandmother had also worked hard to crush my mother’s dreams of being an artist and when my father had been a young man his entire family laughed him out of his ambition to be a singer. I’m sure that when my grandparents were young their elders mocked their dreams as well. It didn’t make sense to me. Was it something embedded in our genetic codes? I didn’t know.


All I knew was that in a matter of a few years Tallulah and I would be married and living lives of our own. I just needed to get us over this rough patch.


*


No matter how bad things were in Northway Mall Ivanhoe Books Incorporated was always busy around the holidays. Shoppers crowded into the store, trying to find just the right Christmas gift for that special someone in their lives. It always amazed me how quickly that holiday cheer would become white-hot rage when you told them that the book they wanted was out of stock, or worse yet, not available in paperback.


“What do you mean it’s only available in hardcover?” A customer glowered at me.


“It just came out last week,” I explained. The crowd at the register was growing, Frank McDaniels was hard at work ringing out one customer after another after another.


“This is twenty-four bucks! That’s robbery!” the glaring cheapskate said to me, “Will it be out in paperback by Christmas?”


“Oh no,” I said, “it takes at least a year for the paperback edition of a new release to come out.”


“That’s not a very good way to do business.”


“It is if you want to sell hardcover books.”


Yasmin was hard at work taking special orders but for every one she finished two more people approached. I tried to excuse myself so I could help her but my customer wasn’t done with me. “What about that ‘Chivalrous Discount’ you guys are always talking about?”


I replied, “That is for books on the New York Times Bestsellers List only.”


“If you give me the Chivalrous Discount I’ll buy the book right now.”


“But this book isn’t on the New York Times Bestsellers list.”


“Do you want to make a sale or not?” the glaring cheapskate asked, “Don't you guys make commission?”


“No sir, there isn't really a way to make a commission on book sales.” I explained, “In fact you might say it's 'Commission Impossible'! Ha ha!”


Despite my clever play on words and the Christmas music blaring everywhere my customer remained neither holly or jolly. He said “I 'll just take my business elsewhere then.”


With that done I made my way to the front counter. Frank McDaniels was ringing up one sale after another, there were so many people lined up that it almost seemed claustrophobic. Of course the counter being so crowded with last minute impulse items like 50 different kinds of bookmarks didn’t help. There was a miniature Christmas tree perched at the other end of the counter, it was balanced precariously like a poorly hung version of Chekhov's gun.


I asked Frank, “Want me to bag for you.”


“Sure,” he said as a customer handed him a check. He smiled at the next customer and said, “Will that be cash, check or charge?”


“I’ll pay by check.” the customer said.


Frank nodded “I’ll need to see two forms of ID.”


That’s right, back in those low tech days if you wanted to pay by check you had to show two forms of ID. We also asked for two forms of ID with a credit card but credit card sales had the extra steps of filling out a manual form and then flipping though a little tract sized booklet to make sure it wasn’t stolen or canceled.


On days like this you just pretended to look through the little book but if the purchase was over $50 you had to call the credit card company and get an approval code.


No wonder we had lines all the way to the back of the store.


Anyway I bagged this customer’s books, one copy of the Cat Who Came For Christmas and one of Wealth Without Risk. If there was one thing I had learned working in a bookstore it was that the least risky way to get rich was to write a book about cats.


I wondered if I could write a book about cats without there being a body count. Probably not.


Frank asked the next customer, “Will that be cash, check or charge?”


“Credit card,” the customer said.


Frank nodded “I’ll need to see two forms of ID.”


This was the guy in the beret that seemed to come in every day, he was always buying Mac Bolan novels and today was no different. There was a time when I had considered trying my hand at a men’s adventure novel. The damn things came out with a new book every month so they must need a lot of writers. I had even read a few in preparation and realized that they were a lot like romance novels except that had detailed scenes of carnage instead of long winded sex scenes.


Once that sale was done the next customer moved up. Frank asked Frank asked, “Will that be cash, check or charge?”


“Check,” the customer said, “and you really need more cash registers.”


Frank nodded “I’ll need to see two forms of ID.”


Instead of listening to the customer complain I merely marveled at the fact they were buying a bible and a book of astrology. The bible had all of Jesus’ words in red, the astrology tome had lottery number predictions that had probably been pulled straight out of Uranus.


The next customer set a tall pile of books in front of us, every one of Piers Anthony’s Xanth series of novels by the look of it. I had read a good number of those book myself, the first trilogy being my favorite of the bunch. I had the entire series myself, the Sci Fi bookclub had made me its bitch long ago.


“Will that be cash, check or charge?” Frank asked.


“Cash,” the customer said as he brought out an enviable money clip.


Frank nodded “I’ll need to see two forms of ID.”


“I said I’m paying with cash.”


Again Frank nodded “I’ll need to see two forms of ID.”


“He said he want’s to pay with cash,” I said in a stage whisper.


Frank turned to glare at me, the whites of his eyes were wide, the pupils were small, “And I said I need to see two forms of ID.”


The customer was just as confused as I was “Why the Hell would you need to see two forms of ID when I’m paying with cash?”


“I need to see two forms of ID!” Frank insisted.


The commotion made Yasmin abandon her post and head over. She asked, “What did you do this time Al?”


“Nothing!” I said.


“Look,” the customer said, “Are you people going to take my money or not?”


“I’ll take you money,” Frank pounded his fist on the counter, the miniature Christmas tree toppled over, the glass ornaments shattered, “as soon as you show me two forms of ID!”


Yasmin blinked, “What is he talking about?”


I sighed, “I think Frank’s sanity is temporarily out of print.”





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