A3Writer: F3 The Climax
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Friday, June 23, 2017

F3 The Climax

            “Shut the freak up!” one of the demon teens screamed—

            “Okay, now what is it?” I asked.
            “Freak?” Nikki arched an eyebrow.
            “Yeah, Boss,” Jessie added. “Even I don’t buy that one.”
            “Well, yeah,” I said, “but you both know how I am about swearing.”
            “I believe you take issue with blaspheming more than simple cursing,” Nikki explained.
            “Just because I don’t take religious issue with other forms of cursing doesn’t mean I approve of it. It’s not like dropping the F-bomb is going to add to the story in this case. You know what he’s really saying.”
            “It’s still kind of weak, Boss,” Jessie said.
            “Okay, I am not going to sit here and drop bombs for the next twenty minutes as I tell this story.”
            Jessie held up her hands defensively, then gave me a ‘just yanking your chain’ grin.
            Nikki gave a slight shake of her head. “Very well, carry on.”

            “Shut the freak up!” one of the demon teens screamed through the community center. I couldn’t tell which one, but he was clearly angry, but then most teens were.
            “We mean freaking business!” yelled another one from what sounded like the other side of the stage.
            “We’re not freaking leaving until we get what we freaking want!” chimed in a third, from the front of the stage.
            I sat up, trying to see through the sea of legs for their location, but fortunately two people helped me and held me up, my ankle still too tender for any kind of weight. I was afraid I would see guns in their hands, but was only slightly relieved they had baseball bats. One had gone the extra step to wrap barbed wire around his bat. It was enough of a threat to cow the entire group, especially with so many kids in the room.
            “We weren’t going to take it this far, but now, we’re going to freak all of this up!” barbed bat said. He was tall and stocky with menace in his voice and a tattoo of a skull on his neck. He wore a tank top that showed off muscled arms and torso. He looked as built as a linebacker, and there was no way that people wouldn’t get hurt if they tangled with him.
            Especially me.
            “Call the cops,” I whispered to the men holding me up.
            “Before any of you idiots get any stupid ideas about calling the police,” barbed bat continued, “throw all your phones off the front of the stage.” Some people hesitated. “Every person I catch with a phone is going to get my freaking bat shoved up their freaking rear!”
Cell phones sailed through the air, landing in the first rows of seats. I added mine to the mix.
Not like the cops will get here any time soon, and I don’t want to provoke these guys more than necessary. Guess I’ll have devise something clever to get us all out of this. Good thing I’m Matt Allen, genius detective—

“Matthew!” Nikki slapped a palm on my desk.
“Geez, you really know how to kill a story,” I said. “Fine, I’ll tell the version where the hero—and that is me—is more or less real. It’s not as fun, though.”
Jessie unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh.



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