Knuckles
05-11-2006, 06:34 AM
I've been stuck writing this and need some opinions. I wrote this part that is below and can't decide if this should be the beginning or the ending (a little more would come to a conclusion if it was the ending). I was wondering what you all thought. This is a rough draft, so don't worry about grammar or spelling. It will all be cleaned up. Thanks for reading.
I look down and my hand is covered in blood. I hear an ad for Wal-Mart say “Always low prices.” I can feel my ear torn in half. The knife I used is now stuck in my wood floor, dripping with blood. For a moment I think about how I’m going to clean up those blood spots on my floor. I hear “My bologny has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R.” Surprisingly it doesn’t feel that painful. My ear hanging there flapping and that’s when I feel the bump. I dug and scratched at the bump until it dislodged from my ear. Then silence, I didn’t hear a thing. This felt like heaven. It was so quiet. I looked at my blood soaked hand and saw a chip in the middle of my palm. It’s about half the size of a dime. I dropped the chip to the ground. Exhausted I fall to my couch and slept.
I awoke to a knock on my door. I looked at the time, but all the clocks were flashing 12:00. I sat up, but the blood has glued my ear to the couch. I pull my half torn ear off the couch and all the pain comes flooding back to me. The knock comes louder this time. I walk to the door holding my ear. I open the door. Two men in expensive suits are standing at my doorway.
“Hi, sir, I’m John,” he said as he walks pass me into my house, “and this is Nelson.”
I watched them walk pass me as if I didn’t even exist. Nelson closes the door behind him as he enters my apartment; he is a hulk of a man that barely fits though my door.
“Whoa! That’s a lot of blood there. Is that a knife I see?” The one called John asked.
“Yeah, I kind of…,” I said as I get cut off by John.
“Yes, Mr. Tung we know what happen here,” John said.
“What, I don’t understand,” I said letting go of my ear causing it to flap down.
“Well, Mr. Tung, that little device that you so recklessly destroyed cost a lot of money. Do you know how much money it takes to make a doctor inject you with a microchip? Do you have any idea how much money this little adventure is costing us? The people I work for are not too happy about this little failure.” John angrily told me.
“Wait—what did you do to my head?” I spat back at him.
“Your nothing now, but a failed experiment.”
“So, your going to kill me?” I asked him as a move closer to John.
“We like to call it downsizing,” John said with a smirk on his face.
Suddenly, a giant fist comes out of nowhere and pops me in the nose. My nose explodes with blood. Another fist hits me in the stomach and I realize that John’s silent partner Nelson is the downsizer. He hits me so hard in the stomach that it lifts me off the ground. I land on my stomach with a thump. I see the knife a few feet in front of me. I reach out to grab it as Nelson stumps on my hand crushing every tiny bone. I scream out in pain and Nelson laughs at me. Then I hear somebody yell from behind John, “Yeah, asshole—eat this!” I look up to see Marcie hitting John in the head with a baseball bat. John’s head cracks open like a pińata. Nelson angrily walks toward Marcie. Marcie wines up again and swings. The bat shatters on Nelson’s forearm. Marcie’s determination turns to fear as Nelson steps closer to her. With my good hand I pick up the knife on the ground and stab Nelson in the back of the head. He suddenly stops walking and falls to his knees. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he falls forward, landing at the feet of Marcie.
I grab the chip that is lying on the ground next to the couch. Across the tiny surface of the chip is OMC.
I look down and my hand is covered in blood. I hear an ad for Wal-Mart say “Always low prices.” I can feel my ear torn in half. The knife I used is now stuck in my wood floor, dripping with blood. For a moment I think about how I’m going to clean up those blood spots on my floor. I hear “My bologny has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R.” Surprisingly it doesn’t feel that painful. My ear hanging there flapping and that’s when I feel the bump. I dug and scratched at the bump until it dislodged from my ear. Then silence, I didn’t hear a thing. This felt like heaven. It was so quiet. I looked at my blood soaked hand and saw a chip in the middle of my palm. It’s about half the size of a dime. I dropped the chip to the ground. Exhausted I fall to my couch and slept.
I awoke to a knock on my door. I looked at the time, but all the clocks were flashing 12:00. I sat up, but the blood has glued my ear to the couch. I pull my half torn ear off the couch and all the pain comes flooding back to me. The knock comes louder this time. I walk to the door holding my ear. I open the door. Two men in expensive suits are standing at my doorway.
“Hi, sir, I’m John,” he said as he walks pass me into my house, “and this is Nelson.”
I watched them walk pass me as if I didn’t even exist. Nelson closes the door behind him as he enters my apartment; he is a hulk of a man that barely fits though my door.
“Whoa! That’s a lot of blood there. Is that a knife I see?” The one called John asked.
“Yeah, I kind of…,” I said as I get cut off by John.
“Yes, Mr. Tung we know what happen here,” John said.
“What, I don’t understand,” I said letting go of my ear causing it to flap down.
“Well, Mr. Tung, that little device that you so recklessly destroyed cost a lot of money. Do you know how much money it takes to make a doctor inject you with a microchip? Do you have any idea how much money this little adventure is costing us? The people I work for are not too happy about this little failure.” John angrily told me.
“Wait—what did you do to my head?” I spat back at him.
“Your nothing now, but a failed experiment.”
“So, your going to kill me?” I asked him as a move closer to John.
“We like to call it downsizing,” John said with a smirk on his face.
Suddenly, a giant fist comes out of nowhere and pops me in the nose. My nose explodes with blood. Another fist hits me in the stomach and I realize that John’s silent partner Nelson is the downsizer. He hits me so hard in the stomach that it lifts me off the ground. I land on my stomach with a thump. I see the knife a few feet in front of me. I reach out to grab it as Nelson stumps on my hand crushing every tiny bone. I scream out in pain and Nelson laughs at me. Then I hear somebody yell from behind John, “Yeah, asshole—eat this!” I look up to see Marcie hitting John in the head with a baseball bat. John’s head cracks open like a pińata. Nelson angrily walks toward Marcie. Marcie wines up again and swings. The bat shatters on Nelson’s forearm. Marcie’s determination turns to fear as Nelson steps closer to her. With my good hand I pick up the knife on the ground and stab Nelson in the back of the head. He suddenly stops walking and falls to his knees. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he falls forward, landing at the feet of Marcie.
I grab the chip that is lying on the ground next to the couch. Across the tiny surface of the chip is OMC.