Thursday, September 29, 2005

The Ballad of Breakfast Brains

RTW Short Stories presents
The Ballad of Breakfast Brains

I wrote this short story while bored in Psychology class the other day.  Following the story, I’ve written a bit more about it; influences, its purpose, etc.  I wanted to also point out, however, that it features some mature content.  There’s a lot of explicit language, and some graphic scenes, too.  So, if you’re not comfortable for that type of subject material, I suggest you hit up the archives and read one of my book reviews or something… without further adieu, enjoy!

The Ballad of Breakfast Brains 

The cowbell on the front door rang.  A tall man, wearing a leather jacket, black jeans, and in serious need of a shave walked in.  He walked directly to the front counter, climbed up on it, revealed a gun from its hiding spot on his waist and shouted, “I’m taking over!”  The workers dropped to their chests and covered their heads.  “Eat a dick!” a young teenage girl shouted, she was a regular named Sue.  Her boyfriend of two years, Jack, put his hands on her shoulders, trying to keep her kneeling down near their table.  It was a hot summer Arizona day, and this little diner was in chaos.  The armed man hopped off the counter, tossed his gun up catching it by the barrel, and slapped the right side of Sue’s jaw with the handle of the gun.  “Eat that shit, filthy bitch” he spat.  Jack tried to get to his feet, but the man flipped his fun back into firing position and pointed it at his face.  “What, college boy?  Do you have a set, you sorry coward?”  The man unflinchingly starred into Jack’s eyes.  “Can I get some eggs and hot sauce in this motherfucker or what?  What’s the matter everyone?  This is a party!”  A teenage girl, wearing her Catholic schoolgirl outfit sitting at the counter was the man’s next target.  He put his gun in-between her legs, under her skirt against the soft skin.  “How’s that for a stimulus?” he laughed.  “Hey asshole, why don’t you eat some shit with your eggs?”  It was Sue again.  “Hey cunt, how about you suck on my gun while I ram a finger up your ass?” he retorted.

A loud buzzing sound came from outside, vibrating the windows of the diner.  The waitress on duty, in her 50s, dropped the plate of eggs she was carrying out to their captor.  “Oh!  Grandma, no!  Get on your knees and eat those eggs with a side of carpet.”  Three figures walked through the front door; they were alien beings from another planet, with shiny silvery skin and no clothes on.  The leader of the pack spoke in his native language, sounding like insane noise to the diner patrons.  The armed man pointed his pistol at the aliens.  One of the beings skipped forth, waved his hand towards the criminal, and the criminal instantly left the ground, being tossed above the counter, hitting the wall and landing on top of the ice tea and lemonade dispensers, soda fountains, dishes, and other objects with a brutal crash.  One of the aliens did a headstand, walked on his hands over to the eggs on the floor, and began eating them while upside down.  The other two aliens, talking loudly in their bizarre language, began walking around the diner pointing at people’s heads.  Upon this act, the human who was pointed at would have their skull instantly explode.  The aliens danced around the diner, which was now covered in bits of skull, brain matter, and tons of blood.  The lead alien began breakdancing in the middle of the floor as the other two aliens splashed and kicked blood on him as he spun.


Anyway, allow me a few words to part with.  Almost every single one of my short stories is about teenage romance, or lack thereof.  This is one of the first actual fiction pieces I’ve penned in quite some years.  My friend Eddie, who is constantly working on stylized sci-fi stories served as a bit of an inspiration.  Looking over the story subjectively now, I can see where some subconscious tributes took place:

  • “I’m taking over!” – Big Stevie Cool (leader of the bWo) in E.C.W. and his infamous “We’re taking over!” line.
  • “How’s that for a stimulus?” – I was in Psychology class and we were discussing stimuli, so that’s why that line was birthed.
  • Misc. – The armed guy is very mouthy, that’s to show that not only his he cocky, but missing some of his mental capacities.  When he gets thrown over the counter, I think subconsciously that was my homage to a scene in the brilliant film The Toxic Avenger Part 2.  Lastly, the use of language and violence isn’t really my cup of tea, perhaps reading a couple of Frank Miller’s Sin City graphic novels recently effected me adversely.

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