asianmommy
05-07-2008, 07:37 PM
((I apologize if its kind of bunk. I had a hard time figuring out how to do this one. Basically, I just wrote it like a story and hoped it all made sense. I ultimately decided on to death, but, Al, if you want to go with humiliation, it's up to you. Thanks guys, sorry it took so long.))
Asianmommy (AM) eyes Al across the crowd as they wait for the charity half-marathon to begin. Al is standing idily under a tree, twirling a twig between two fingers and watching the crowd. A sly grin crosses his features as he spots AM in the crowd and nods in her direction. She returns his nod, and smiles, unfortunately his death will be the only thing that finishes this race for her.
That morning she recieved the message: “The location: Charity half-marathon.
The Weapons: Drunk teenagers, energy drinks, patent leather and a giant cooking pot.
His death: drooling.” It was signed by Sable, Plunder, and Falconess. AM accepted this and headed out to the half marathon where Al would be with her pack full of energy drinks, patent leather pants, and her giant sauce pot, recently scrubbed after making a batch of homemade tomato sauce.
Al does not look like he’s dressed to run, he’s there to meet her in challenge, and they both know it. Their eyes lock, he winks. AM strides confidently across the road, through the crowd. When she reaches his side she looks up at him.
“Al.”
“You’re so short,” he beams.
“You’re so old,” she mocks, but gives him a peck on the cheek anyway. “So, you know why I’m here?”
“I do, m’lady, and you can try your hardest, but I’m not going down without a fight.”
“Do I really have to fight you to go down, then?” AM laughs boisterously and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll just worry about the marathon for now, and see what comes of it then?”
“Very well,” he smiles and then walks past her as it begins. She follows, a bit behind.
The day is warm and sunny, Al looks bored as he walks, but he is enjoying the weather, keeping his eye on AM as she talks on her phone. As they cross a bridge Al is confronted by a group of teens, all drunk. “Oh, here we go,” he thinks. “Sweet mother of moses, don’t you kids have anything better to do?”
“Oh no, old guy, we’ve been hired especially for you.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet, but really it’s not necessary, kid.”
“I ain’t no kid.” The leader spits with teenage angst.
They circle him and begin to taunt him. One of them pushes him, shoving him into the rail. The look on his face has gone from midly annoyed to anger. He sees AM walk out from under the bridge along the bank of the river. She’s wearing patent leather pants and a black halter top. “Bring him down here, kids!” She shouts.
“Asian Mommy! I don’t wanna hit you, but I will if you hit me.”
“Of course, Al, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”
They jostle him down the hill, and bring him in front of her. He grumbles under his breath and kicks one of them in the shin. The teen yowls with pain and AM swings the sauce pot. Al grabs it, catching it between his fingers and pushing it back against her.
She shouts and kicks out as she falls, landing the kick into his crotch.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!” He shouts and goes down. She stands but he swings his legs and kicks hers out from under her. She goes down hard, not being much of a fighter, she does not land safely, but on her wrist.
“Shit!” It’s bleeding. She cradles it as the teens circle around Al again.
“What the heck? Can’t do this without your little cronies, AM?”
“I’m just playin’ by the rules, darlin’.” She brings another pair of patent leather pants from her bag. Taking a box cutter from the front pocket she cuts them in half. She throws one leg to the teens, who bind Al’s hands and feet together. She makes him drink six energy drinks. While he’s drinking, they just look at each other, eyes locked.
“You know, Al, I don’t really want to do this, but I got the letter, same as you. I don’t think the judges want me to let you go.”
“Sure. I know the rules, same as you do.”
“Of course.”
AM puts a pebble in Al’s mouth and ties the other strip of pants over his mouth. She pushes him on his back into the sun. He begins to salivate. She lowers herself onto his chest, placing her hands firmly on either side of his face. She gives him a kiss on the forehead and reachs back to grab for the pot. She turns out his lights, putting the pot over his head.
With the sun, he’s sweating and salivating, the pebble, too big to swallow, making the drool worse. She’s sitting on his chest, and she’s got those drunken teenagers holding down his limbs. He begins to drown in his own drool and in a while is dead.
AM sighs and steps up from his chest. She takes a photo of him with her phone, sending it to the judges. “It’s done.”
Asianmommy (AM) eyes Al across the crowd as they wait for the charity half-marathon to begin. Al is standing idily under a tree, twirling a twig between two fingers and watching the crowd. A sly grin crosses his features as he spots AM in the crowd and nods in her direction. She returns his nod, and smiles, unfortunately his death will be the only thing that finishes this race for her.
That morning she recieved the message: “The location: Charity half-marathon.
The Weapons: Drunk teenagers, energy drinks, patent leather and a giant cooking pot.
His death: drooling.” It was signed by Sable, Plunder, and Falconess. AM accepted this and headed out to the half marathon where Al would be with her pack full of energy drinks, patent leather pants, and her giant sauce pot, recently scrubbed after making a batch of homemade tomato sauce.
Al does not look like he’s dressed to run, he’s there to meet her in challenge, and they both know it. Their eyes lock, he winks. AM strides confidently across the road, through the crowd. When she reaches his side she looks up at him.
“Al.”
“You’re so short,” he beams.
“You’re so old,” she mocks, but gives him a peck on the cheek anyway. “So, you know why I’m here?”
“I do, m’lady, and you can try your hardest, but I’m not going down without a fight.”
“Do I really have to fight you to go down, then?” AM laughs boisterously and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll just worry about the marathon for now, and see what comes of it then?”
“Very well,” he smiles and then walks past her as it begins. She follows, a bit behind.
The day is warm and sunny, Al looks bored as he walks, but he is enjoying the weather, keeping his eye on AM as she talks on her phone. As they cross a bridge Al is confronted by a group of teens, all drunk. “Oh, here we go,” he thinks. “Sweet mother of moses, don’t you kids have anything better to do?”
“Oh no, old guy, we’ve been hired especially for you.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet, but really it’s not necessary, kid.”
“I ain’t no kid.” The leader spits with teenage angst.
They circle him and begin to taunt him. One of them pushes him, shoving him into the rail. The look on his face has gone from midly annoyed to anger. He sees AM walk out from under the bridge along the bank of the river. She’s wearing patent leather pants and a black halter top. “Bring him down here, kids!” She shouts.
“Asian Mommy! I don’t wanna hit you, but I will if you hit me.”
“Of course, Al, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”
They jostle him down the hill, and bring him in front of her. He grumbles under his breath and kicks one of them in the shin. The teen yowls with pain and AM swings the sauce pot. Al grabs it, catching it between his fingers and pushing it back against her.
She shouts and kicks out as she falls, landing the kick into his crotch.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!” He shouts and goes down. She stands but he swings his legs and kicks hers out from under her. She goes down hard, not being much of a fighter, she does not land safely, but on her wrist.
“Shit!” It’s bleeding. She cradles it as the teens circle around Al again.
“What the heck? Can’t do this without your little cronies, AM?”
“I’m just playin’ by the rules, darlin’.” She brings another pair of patent leather pants from her bag. Taking a box cutter from the front pocket she cuts them in half. She throws one leg to the teens, who bind Al’s hands and feet together. She makes him drink six energy drinks. While he’s drinking, they just look at each other, eyes locked.
“You know, Al, I don’t really want to do this, but I got the letter, same as you. I don’t think the judges want me to let you go.”
“Sure. I know the rules, same as you do.”
“Of course.”
AM puts a pebble in Al’s mouth and ties the other strip of pants over his mouth. She pushes him on his back into the sun. He begins to salivate. She lowers herself onto his chest, placing her hands firmly on either side of his face. She gives him a kiss on the forehead and reachs back to grab for the pot. She turns out his lights, putting the pot over his head.
With the sun, he’s sweating and salivating, the pebble, too big to swallow, making the drool worse. She’s sitting on his chest, and she’s got those drunken teenagers holding down his limbs. He begins to drown in his own drool and in a while is dead.
AM sighs and steps up from his chest. She takes a photo of him with her phone, sending it to the judges. “It’s done.”