PLAGIARISM 101

Okay, for all of you who still check this "deadbeat blog," here's something I've been stressing over. I promised to post this one to a few people about a week and a half ago, but I've not liked it. I still don't. There are things that need to be worked on, parts that need to be elaborated on, fixed, etc. Anyway, this is a completely new piece, so give me your advice and comments. Everyone who has commented has been more than helpful. I appreciate it!

In the fifth year of the Restoration, the land of Oaklin saw the fracture of peace between the Three Kingdoms. For many years, Oaklin had been under the rule of the Tyrant Ostan, who had been a good ruler, an unbiased administrator of justice and the canniest of warriors. Before he died, six years preceding the present, he set up an unusual system of succession. His kingdom was to be split between his three children thereby restoring the original nations of Oaklin to their sovereignty. Ostan knew he was going to die ere the year had passed, so he had an army of clerks make account of the Three Kingdoms. Then, on what was to be his last birthday, he called his children together.
"The accounts have been finalized," he told them, pausing for a caughing fit, part of the illness that would eventually kill him. "There are three pieces of parchment, each detailing one kingdom. Choose one of them and when I die it will be yours. Omnia, beloved daughter, as my eldest child, you may choose first."
Omnia's two younger siblings, the young men Orik and Owain, watched as she carefully studied each parchment. Of the three of them, she was the most like their father, though with a woman's compassion. she took her time reading each report, considering the details. First was the northern kingdom of Cai, largest and most populated, bordering the Outlands to the North of Oaklin. It was a poor country with a low standard of living and relatively few natural resources, but with a large army and good defenses. It was basically a plain country with the Desert in the midst of it. The River Oro and the Outland Mountain Range, dominated by Mount Deter, ran along its northern border. From here came the country's most important resource, metals. Mines spanned the length of the range, providing jobs and metal for weapons. This added to the somewhat militaristic focus of the country.
Most of the people in Cai lived near water, especially around the Lake Kerrib which was fed by the river. The city of Caivile, largest in the kingdom, sat on its southern shore and it was here that any ruler would live. The capital city of Cail was in the center of the kingdom, making it the perfect place from which to administrate, but it was still very small compared to other capitals, because of the shortage of water. The roads in the north were good enough, but those in the south were rough and ill-kept, since most of the economy stemmed from the mines in the north.
Next was Scoe, the wooded southwestern country with the only natural bay and peninsula in Oaklin. It had a fair amount of seafarers, but the majority of the population was either merchants or members of the logging industry. Because of the Bay, ships came from everywhere to drop off or pick up goods and there was always a ship for hire, so trade was profitable. Timber was the nation's major export. The forests, which covered half of the land, were carefully regulated, however, so that they would never be depleted, for not only were they the largest part of the economy, they were a key part of the defenses, as well. In time of war or invasion, the people could retreat into the woods, which they knew well, and pick off their enemies one by one while they remained safe in the recesses of the dense forest.
The roads were the best in Oaklin and the most used. There was a steady traffice from the logging town of Cine to the Port of Law on the Bay of Scoe, and, therefore, a steady stream of repairs on the road. The Port was the largest city in the nation with the capital of Ninak coming in a close second. Ninak was the most famous city in Oaklin, being the birthplace of two famous men: Ossian, the first Tyrant of Oaklin, who achieved the unification of the three peoples, and Linden Ophelos, creator of the Ophelian Rings on the peninsula. Every year, many pilgrims made the journey to Ninak and the peninsula as part of Ophelos' cult.
Finally, Omnia read the details of Havel, the southeastern kingdom. It was the most insular of the Three Kingdoms being hemmed in by the jagged Inland Mountain Range on its northern border, the steep Cliffs of Rahula against the ocean and the rapid River Havel in the west. Inside these boundaries, Havel had enjoyed peace for over two hundred years since the coming of the Tyrants and before. Thus, it was the most culturally advanced nation in Oaklin.
There were two universities in the capital city of Dos, a public and a private. Known as the College of Dos, the public university's claim to fame was that it was the only one of its kind , not only in Oaklin, but in the known world. For many years, under the tyrants, it had been funded collaboratively by the nations of Oaklin, who sent students there with regularity. The private university, the official University of Dos, however, could claim Linden Ophelos as its most famous alumnus, which was a great draw for aspiring architects. These two institutions had helped to make Dos the largest city in Oaklin.
The universities, however, were not the only achievement of Havel. That was the administration of law. Only in Havel had laws been recorded and set as the only standard for judgements in the country. Usually, local rulers dealt justice as they would, appealing to the king in matters concerning themselves. Every law in Havel, on the other hand, had been standardized in writing, teaching and universalized in practice, so that there were no arbitrary judgements. Every verdict was recorded and once a year, they were brought to Dos during the Festival of Peace and put into the archives for the sake of posterity.
Each nation was individual with strengths and weaknesses to be considered. Cai was poor, but large with a strong military bent. Scoe was a trade nation with vast international scope, but it was small. Havel was peaceful and ordered, yet isolated from its neighbors, forcing it to remain largely self sufficient instead of participating in the exchange of goods. Omnia had to weigh the options carefully, knowing that her first choice was the final choice, unchangeable.
"I shall be Queen of Scoe, Father," she said.
"A good decision, daughter," said her father. "Now, Orik, eldest son, choose."
In Ostan's decline, Orik had become the primary general and war leader. He was a large man, powerfully built as befit his profession, but he was fresh faced and had little beard. He was a grasping soul, always wishing for more, and chose Cai as his own. Owain was left with Havel and he was happy to have it. As the youngest son, he was fortunate to inherit anything and a peaceful country was far beyond his wildest dreams. Havel held a special place in his heart anyway, for he had been formally educated at the University of Dos.
With the matter of succession taken care of, the Tyrant Ostan enjoyed the last months of his life in peace. Only a few months later, he died of his illness and was interred with his ancesotrs at Tyrant's Rest on the peninsula, the Last Tyrant of Oaklin. The period known as the Restoration began with the succession of his three children to the thrones of the Three Kingdoms. On the same day, they were simultaneously crowned, each in the capital of their chosen kingdom. Omnia was made Queen of Scoe in Ninak, Orik was made King of Cai in Cail, and Owain was made Prince of Havel in Dos. This day was comemorated ever afterward as the Regalia, a universal holiday.
Four times was the Regalia kept with peace between the nations. Before the fifth, however, peace had begun to deteriorate and by the sixth, the Cai had invaded the Southern Kingdoms.

completely unpunctuated

have you ever had dunkin donuts? i have, and i don't see what all the fuss is about. and their coffee? not that great! now they're selling it at costco for home use. why? why would i spend ten bucks on coffee i can get elsewhere? seriously, what am i paying for? just the name, dunkin donuts. and what is with that name? dunkin'? nobody dunks their donuts anymore. its oldfashioned and out dated. i suppose you'll find some fat cop who turns his lights on just to get into the donut shop dunkin' his apple fritter in his bad dunkin donuts coffee, but he's the exception, not the rule. i don't dunk my donuts. do you? do you dunk your donuts, friend? answer me truthfully, now. this is the beginning of a worldwide survey, do people really dunk their donuts? ask your friends that question and leave me a comment because i really want to know. i'm going to ask my friends, you ask yours. because i want to know! i think this is an important piece of information that the common people of the world should have access to. non-dunking donut eaters unite, and root out that evil which is dunking donut eaters. There, mar would be proud of that statement. he was all about uniting to sad, pointless causes. seriously, if you ever actually read his communist manifesto, that is what you will see. the only impact it had was on philosophers whose job it is to ponder the insane ideas of raving lunatics. they get paid for that. but do the common people, no! nobody cares! besides, all the countries who have engaged in communism, the only people who are wealthy are the people running the commune! that's not fair! that makes them the elite, and communism is all about destroying any elitism whatsoever. equal portions to unequal workers, that's their point. modern communism has totally forgotten that. capitalism is the only system where everyone who is anyone's nobody can make a fair amount of wealth that is equal to their work. that's fair. if i work for fifty cents to buy a candy bar, then i should get my candy bar all to myself, right? well, communism is i work for fifty cents to buy a candybar, and i have to share it with my profligate brother who sat on his ass all day long while i worked. did he earn any part of that condy bar? of course not! so i should not have to share with him. especially if that candy bar happens to be my favorite kind of candy bar, which is reeses, by the way. and i never share a reeses candy bar, no friggin way! so you see, that's the difference between capitalism and communism, whether you have to share a candy bar, or you can have it all to yourself. which do you prefer? which brings me to another point, anyone who says they want to share a candy bar with you, is nuts! or on a diet which happens occasionally, but are they actually sharing because they want to? no, they're sharing because to eat the whole thing would put them over their calorie count or because it means an extra hour at the gym when they'd actually prefer to be home with their family, doing something else that hopefully doesn't involve the diet busting candy bar. so they don't count in this discussion of people who want to give their candy bar away, they do so to sacrifice for a higher cause or a smaller waistline atleast. so, all this discussion goes to prove is that no one really wants to give their candy bar away, and if they say they do are either duped, lying, or its poisoned. which brings me to a final thought which we all know to be true, never accept candy bars from your enemies because the chances that the candy is poisoned are pretty high. so, that's life's lesson for the day: don't take candy bars from enemies because it'll probably be the last candy bar you ever eat.

Just for fun...

This sounds pretty funny coming from a Starbucks addict. I think it was one of those random, five minutes to write anything down exercises. I have a whole bunch of those. And there always seems to be two common threads to these exercises: food and communism. On some subtle, psychological level I'm sure it shows that I'm a mass-murderer in the making. I just can't quite figure out the connection.

so, have you ever considered starbucks? its rise to fame was great and swift, a dangerous combination. people flocked to its doors and it became a hub of culture and relations. its worse than the mall. so, what's next? something big like that happens and people freak out! will we have starbucks anonymous? will the communists infiltrate our minds by brainwashing hidden beneath the catchy music they pipe into their cafes? are the barristas really the officers of a new marxist army? or are they raving capitalists? either way, it sounds terrible and destructive to me. but wait, what if starbucks was to suddenly go bankrupt, close its doors indefinitely to the dismay of an adoring public? the west and east coasts of the u.s. would be devestated! where would we find coffee to drink? starbucks has already killed the mom and pop shops. supermarkets aren't equipped for the deluge of people desperate for caffeine. instead of going to starbucks, they would all line up in front of the bridges and fling themselves from of them out of despair and depression. California would be entirely empty of human life. so would new york. I've heard that theren't aren't any starbucks in the midwest, however. great. so now, the coasts would be repopulated by homer and his wife/sister marge and their retarded kids. my poor california! we must not let starbucks take such a hold of us, people! think of the children! think of the fate of our country if what i predict happens. your house, left empty after your suicide will be filled with hicks from texas who decorate with cow horns, shotguns, orange hats and camo-pants. In your perfectly manicured front lawn will be parked a rusty john deere tractor. inside your ultra-modern living space will hang the head of a dead deer, probably not even taxidermied. it'll just molt all over the floor. i can hear them now, "Jimmy! don't tease the poor sick kid. its not his fault. don't make me get the hose!" *shudders* people, don't let our beaches be besmirched by the stain of hillbilly rednecks! fight your addiction to starbucks with all your might! fight fight! the fate of our country and all the civilization we bring to it rest in your coffee holding hands.

Fin (Isn't that how the Italians do it?)

This, friends, is the final post for this (oh, what shall I call it?) series. I feel an emotional outburst coming on. *tears up* "flick!" Okay, I'm done. There is, actually, more of this. I sort of hint at it with the scene between James and Laurence, but none of that is typed up. For now, however, this is it. I've moved on, or back, to another piece. For now, please enjoy this final post in the series. Oh, and I will leave you all to speculate on just what, exactly, is the peanut trick.

James straightened his tie in the mens' bathroom of the church and appraised his final appearance in the mirror. He looked rather dapper, or at least he thought so. No wrinkles, no bulges, no dandruff. He sighed and took out the wedding photo of Arthur and Joanna taken that morning. They looked especially happy.
"So," said Laurence, sauntering in, "big day's finally here. Too bad I missed all the morning stuff. I hate pictures. Ah, well. Last night was great, wasn't it?"
"Where do you find the energy to be such a profligate?" asked James. "You have hardly any energy at all at work during the week, when you should be accomplishing something, anything."
"And because of that, I have plenty to party with. Say, I got a girl's number for you last night." Laurence handed him a slip of napkin. "She was really interested, but just in you. Believe me, I tried to tell her how boring you are, straight-laced and uptight; she just would not listen."
"Did you try the old peanut trick?" asked James.
"Of course. My best move."
"Yeah, that's probably why she ignored you."
"Come on, that's the ladies favorite. Everyone loves the peanut trick."
"Fascinating. You do know I'm not going to call her, right?"
"Yeah. So you can just give that right back."
"Its your funeral."
"I know. In the karma of dating, though, you get points for effort." Laurence spied the wedding photograph. "Is that from this morning?"
"Yeah. Someone had an old polaroid with them."
"Nice. They look good together. So, when will I be attending you nuptials?"
James laughed. "I did not expect to hear you say that, I really didn't. After all, you are the one who has helped me maintain my reputation all this time."
"Yes, but nothing lasts forever. And hey, I might need you to maintain my reputation one of these days. You know about all that friend in need crap."
Something about his tone made James ask, "Are you in trouble, Laurence?"
"No, definitely not. Well, actually," he amended, "there is something, but its more of a predicament. Nothing I can't handle on my own. " Laurence smiled and clapped his friend on the back. "Hey, we have a wedding to get to."

The seamstress helped Joanna with the final adjustments to her dress. Under the careful ministrations of the seamstress, she was being transformed into someone beautiful and younger than she herself truly was. For a woman only a few years shy of forty, she looked pretty good. Behind her, James loitered in the door.
"I said it this morning and I must say it again: you look beautiful." He stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek.
"You look good, too, now that you finally changed. Fitz does an excellent job."
"Turning caterpillars into butterflies since nineteen sixty. Works every time. Are you ready?" he asked waiting quietly for an answer.
She breathed deeply and replied, "Yes, I think I am."
He extended his arm, "Step lively, then."

Serious Stuff

All righty, ladies and gentlemen, we are nearing the end of our theme. Of course, so for its been la-di-da and quips, but now, we delve into the deeper psyche of our cast. Yeah, don't expect any grand revelations and such. Its actually pretty predictable, on a second read. But there is some background-sih parts. You may begin to get the jist of everyone's relationships. Also, sorry about all the typos on this post. I have a feeling there are a lot of them. The little green man that is my spellcheck is tearing out his hair. Never a good sign. Bain sult as!


The next day, the day before the wedding, was everyone's day off. Everyone except the caterer, the decorator for the church, the tailor, the travel agent and James. As the only family member of the bride, preparations for the big day had fallen to him. There was, of course, a wedding planner who did most of the heavy lifting, but he approved everything from her work down the line. It was a hard job, a taxing job, one that required a lot of tact because the caterer, the wedding planner, the decorator and the travel agent were all women and women, as a rule under every circumstance, needed to be treated diplomatically. That was no trouble for James who had that talent, peculiar to charming young men, for giving commands while making it out that he was entirely in the person's debt. As a result, women loved him and he managed to escape the first portion of the day unscathed. That left only his tailor, thankfully, a man.
"So good of you to come, Fitz," said James, shaking the gentleman's hand. The hotel had a room set apart for the dress preparations in which Fitz had set up his shrine to the final fitting. "I'm sorry it couldn't have been sooner, but I was swamped at work right up until the day I left for this short time off and that has been just as busy."
"I understand perfectly. Its been no trouble anyway, since we've made suits for you before."
"And excellent suits they are. Alright, let's get this over with." The final fitting went perfectly. Fitz had been James' tailor since his business carreer had started and Eric's before that. He was trusted. Afterwards, James went to meet Joanna in one of the lunch shops in the old part of the city.
"So, should I apologize?" asked James. They were sipping their drinks, hers a pepsi, his a black coffee. Unlike Laurence, who was fresh as a daisy, he had awoke with a major headache and he was subsisting on quiet places and caffeine. His morning's activities had not assisted his recovery, but the quiet interlude with Fitz and now the lunch were recharging his strength. Joanna across from him was sympathetic, but unbending in her opinion thet he'd brought it on himself.
"Not unless they bring it up," she said. "And if they do, don't give excuses, just a sincere apology and leave it at that. An apology is all that is ever required."
"Sometimes. Sometimes there is just more to be said."
"Not in this case." She took a sip of her drink and said, "Now that its been brought up, I've wanted to ask you that same question ever since the engagement. Do you feel like I'm replacing Eric?"
"I think its a little late for that, don't you?"
"James."
"Do you feel that way? Is that what this is all about?" his voice was gentle, not accusing. He watched the tears well up in her eyes, a hurt expression on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Joanna, I would never dare to judge you."
"But I can't help thinking that maybe I should wait longer, that being in love with Arthur is to disrespect Eric's memory and I just couldn't go through with it if you felt the same way. It would confirm every bad thing I've been thinking about myself."
"Joanna, I don't feel that way," he reassured her, taking her hand in both of his. "Listen to me. I would never feel that you were trying to replace Eric, because you can't. Not for me. We were a family for twelve years and friends long before. He was my dad. And you two loved each other very much. Nothing can replace that, no one. And I know you better than to think you would try."
She wiped her eyes. "I do miss him, Jay, a lot. I always will. But I'm on the cusp of forty and I'm so used to having a husband to take care of."
"Yeah, I know. For awhile I was tempted to move in with you and enjoy the benefits, but I couldn't get out of my lease." She laughed. "Do you love him, Jo?" he asked seriously.
"I do."
"Then you go tomorrow and say exactly that. I still don't understand why you two don't elope and get it over with. It would be ever so much cheaper that way."
"We wanted the whole big wedding thing, this time around. Neither of us had it before."
"True. You know, its funny, but I actually feel like I'm giving you away this time. Last time, I got more of you back."
"I know what you mean. Tell me, when am I going to give you away?"
"Here we go, I knew it. You're getting married and you just thought you'd push your little brother into it, huh?"
"Yeah, sure, I'm that devious. I was just wondering whether there was any special girl who had caught your attention and even had the remotest chance of dragging you away from that job of yours to live a real life. I don't see oyu enough to know about your feamle liasons. Take your time though. It'll give me more time with my baby brother."
"Yeah, I'm not liking where this is going. Is this going to be a baby story moment?"
"Oh, I remember-" she began.
"It is" he groaned.
"-when you were just two-"
"Here we go again."
"-you dove off the end of the couch and landed head first on the carpet. I thought you were going to die or something, me, a fourteen year old kid. It was so scary. But for all your sobbing and screaming, you were just fine. We were living with Gramma and Gampa at the time. I don't think I let you near a couch for the longest time and I didn't buy one when we moved out either."
"Something for which I was mocked all the way through school. You ruined my life back then."
"Oh," Joanna sighed, patting his cheek, "maybe Oprah will listen to you."
"Ha, ha, very funny. Just don't go ruining my life now by pushing me into marriage. I'm still very young and have yet to sow all my wild oats yet." He ordered a cup of coffee to go and they took a walk to nowhere in particular. The restaraunt was close to the Capitol building with its garden and imposing steps. They wandered around into its rosie pathways, linked arm-in-arm, talking and laughing. The rain driselled all around, remaining as silvery pearls on the flower petals. "How long do you plan to be on this honeymoon of yours?" James asked as they took the stpes of the Capitol one by one.
"I don't know," she answered with a shrug. "Arthur wants to keep it open so if we decide we want to extend it we can."
"Good plan. You should enjoy all the time you have together."
"We have the rest of our lives together, Jay."
"You said that with Eric, too." Joanna looked hard at her brother. His face was set naturally, but there was an edge to his voice that had prompted her to stop in her tracks. It was a raw tone. He turned to face her, open and direct. "I've been thinking about things, not only because of your upcoming nuptuals but becasue there are changes at work and all and we shouldn't take it all for granted. We do, but we shouldn't. I know you know all this, hell, you taught it to me in the first place. But a reminder can't hurt anything, can it?" He smiled to one side and went up further under the portico.
"She followed him saying," I don't have to worry about you anymore, do I? You've grown up perfectly, even if I do say so myself."
"Well, mimicry, flattery and all that, yes?"
"You're better than you think," she said. "I'll definitely take your words under consideration."
"Thank-you, and I really do mean them." They continued walking back to the hotel.
"James, what is going on at work?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. Laurence has been touchy about it, too. And an office can only truly be judged by its best slacker. It doesn't matter and will all assuredly be there when I get back on monday." He suddenly stopped motionless, a bemused look on his face. "I do wish I could find a way to solve your in-law problem."
"It would probably involve murder suicide." Joanna said jokingly.
"Of course. I've got to talk to Arthur. We're taking him out for one last romp before the wedding, Laurence's idea of course. He's promised to stay out till ten at the latest so you know we'll be partying it up big time. Don't worry, it will all be fine."
"Last time you said that you broke your arm mountain biking."
"I know, but I mean it this time."

My Attempts @ Wit

So, I've gotten some good feedback. That's very encouraging and I thank you for it. Also, I finally had time to tweek the blog settings, so you can all comment on the blog, now. My family brought out the "Dork At Work" sign while I figured that out. Amusing, in its way, to be sure.

This is the second part of what you read before. I noticed a lot of errors during the proofread and some parts that just made me wonder where my head was at when I wrote this. I must have been watching "Meet the Parents." Really, this piece was just thrown together, though you wouldn't believe it just looking at all the trees I've killed writing it. Anyway, what I did notice was a lack of backstory to the characters. Must rectify that situation at some point. That should all come with the first rewrite, though. Enjoy!

James ended up sitting down next to Lauren Jackson, a sanctimonious former- Barbie doll who was the type of woman you expect to see carrying a Chihuahua in a pink handbag, who would never disclose her true age, because that was just too vulgar a thing to do ("A steady thirty-five, darling, if anyone asks."), but could tell you she had just had work done on the bridge of her nose by a high-class plastic surgeon ("Definitely not an outpatient procedure, hon."). Again, it was oh-so vulgar to say what anyone spent on something, but it would probably "be sufficient for the car payment on his new Mercedes-Benz." James was just charmed, especially since he owned one and knew exactly how much the payment was. Of course, she hadn't known that and Joanna's telling her before had completely gone out of her mind. "I wouldn't expect you to remember, dear," he had replied, "what with everything else you have to keep your mind occupied. The wedding, now so very near, has, of course, completely thrown you off base, I imagine."
"By the way," she said, her voice oozing confidentiality, "how are you coping with all this?"
"Excuse me?" he said, at first confused. She repeated her question, adding a few phrases of explanation: "Well, I have had to take a few weeks off work to help out, here and there, but they can survive without me at the office. I'm only a minor cog in the grand inner workings of the company. Really, I only get paid for letting the use my name on the letterhead, is all."
"Yes, but I mean personally, dear," continued Lauren Jackson. "It must be hard for you, after all. Her previous husband, God rest his soul, was like a father to you. Does it feel as though she's replacing him?"
James stopped for only a moment before replying, icily, "I have no idea what you mean, love. I say, Peter," he continued, easing into the swing of conversation again.
"Please, call me Pete," he said with his affected Texas-twang. He styled himself a son of the Lone Star, a true patriot and entrepreneur.
"Yes, Pete, I had forgotten. I say, Mercedes are damnably expensive to repair, what? It cost me a ridiculous amount just to put new brake pads on and rotate my tires."
"Indeed, they are costly," he agreed, the twang grating in James' ears. "But I remember when I owned one in y younger days, a sporty little convertible, bright red. I used to put the top down and cruise through the neighborhood, let all the girls flock to e like so many moths to the flame of my personality. Even Lauren couldn't resist me back then, in our younger days. I' sure you have the same problem with your love life. Eh, Jimmy?"
"Yeah, sure. Actually, I don't really, you see. I think its my hair, really. You see, I'm going bald prematurely. My doctor says its all the stress at work. Girls just don't like feeling like they're dating a grandpa, you know. Sort of ruins the moment, if you know what I mean. But hey, I'm only twenty-six; I've got time to wait for a cure. Eh, Pete?"

"I'm going to kill her," shouted James. He and Laurence had retired to their shared room after the festivities. They were friends and business partners, so they were used to bumming around with each other. They had been friends since college and even considered going into business with each other at one point. Eric's death had put an end to that. Laurence was splayed wheel-wise on his bed, soaking his face with a wet towel.
Can you please stop shouting," he pleaded. "I have the beginnings of a major hangover and you are not helping."
"I am going to kill her and then I'm going to kill him. I think I'll do it slowly, maybe. Cut their hearts out with a knife, not that I'll be able to find any, except maybe with a microscope. Imagine how they've survived with organs that small."
"Oh, dear God," moaned Laurence.
"I don't think there's a pint of blood between the two of them, a Vampire's nightmare. Did you hear what she said? Trying to insinuate a seed of discontent against Joanna, playing on my love for Eric. What sort of insidious nightmare is she?"
"The real kind."
And him! He's just ridiculous. Did you notice the underhanded manner in which he usurped the position of host? Greeting people like he payed for all of it. Makes my blood boil."
"Can you take it down to a simmer?" asked the invalid. "There's nothing you can do about it tonight. Its deucedly impolite to murder a couple in the middle of the night, though I dare say that its been done before. And remember, he didn't bite you, you bit him. Think about it. She hurt you because she can't do anything about Joanna. Then you did the exact same thing. Are you really any better?"
James stopped ranting for a few moments."Valid point," he sighed, collapsing onto a nearby chair. "I guess not. How am I ever going to survive the next couple days?" "Booze and vicodin, man. Now, turn the light off and go to sleep."
James clicked the lamp off and slowly undressed. The terrible thing was, he was paying for their hotel room. He would certainly regret that later. It wasn't the money, just the principle of the thing. Luckily, he wasn't the one who was going to end up actually related to them; they were Joanna's problem.
And he was Arthur's. Arthur definitely got the better part of the deal, or at least in his mind. Just a brother-in-law, no new parents or expectations, no tape measure pulled up to measure his nature. Arthur was a good fit, anyway. He neither sought nor didn't seek to step into Eric's shoes, merely to be a friend on his own merits. That suited James just fine. He was a bit old to need a father figure in his life and no one could replace Eric for him. He was the only father he had ever known, or ever needed. He missed him terribly and he knew Joanna did, too. It was just that she was getting over it and she had chosen to do that with Arthur. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to be moving on at all. He was just existing.

For the accused

I wrote this about seven months ago during school. I'm sort of posting this because of a friend who requested to read it. This isn't the whole thing and its unedited, but I'm currently in the process of editing it. This is just to whet your appetite. Also, I have to say that any similarity to real life events is completely accidental. Really...



James walked into the hotel lobby with no sign of apprehension on his handsome face. A casual observer would never have guessed the uncertainty of his feelings, nor noticed the slight shake of his hand as he took a glass of champagne from the server. He had no idea what would happen during the course of the evening , but he was determined to see it through for the sake of his sister, Joanna. Albeit, he was going to do so with a drink close to hand.
He could see the whole room from his far corner of the bar. The band opposite the bar played Tony Bennet tunes for those on the dance floor and a silent screen played a college football gae behind the bartended, who was cleverly ixing drinks for a pair of girls. "I have a hundred bucks on this game," said Laurence, coming over. "Another whiskey-soda, please, bartender."
"And another pear ale for me," said James.
"What, I thought you were going to get drunk as a skunk tonight and you're drinking some imported chick beer?" exclaimed Laurence. "Atleast have a whiskey with me, I'm buying."
"Jo wants me as sober as possible until her future in-laws leave. I was only able to weasel out the ale and champagne for fortification."
"Bummer," replied his friend, heaving a great sigh. "You haven't heard anything from work today, have you?"
"What? Please, leave work out of tonight. I'm distracted enough as it is. Besides, what do you care? You spend half your time avoiding work and the other half finding women. What's going on?"
"I was just curious as to how you were taking your vacation," explained Laurence. "I know how much of a workaholic you are." James noticed a heavy scent of alcohol eminating from his companion. He had obviously been drinking heavily. Laurence belched quietly.
"How long have you been here?" asked James, waving the foul smelling air away from himself.
"For about three of these."
"Great. Well, slow down, will you," requested James. "The soon to be in-laws don't like heavy drinking and you smell like a brewery."
"All right, man, anything to make this easier on Jo."
"You're a saint. Now, one last glass before I go. She wants me in there five minutes before Peter and Lauren go in. Fill her up, barkeep."
"By the way, old man," said Laurence, "why do you always get your drinks before I get mine?"
"I tip."
Inside the party facilities, Joanna was pacing up and down, just on the verge of frantic. The rehearsal had gone well, the tables were all set up and waiting for guests; it was all as close to perfect as she could get it, but none of it seemed enough. In-laws, she hated them. In her first marriage she had known the family for years before, since high school, and there had been no tension at all. Now, her future in-laws hated her, or practically. They hated that she and Arthur were living together, that they had only known each other for five months, and a whole host of other things. Joanna, personally, had never had a quarrel with anyone and she tried to get along with the as best she could, but she still got the feeling that nothing she did was ever going to be good enough for them. Tonight would probably turn out the same way.
"Ma'am," said one of the servers, "the caterers gave their okay. We can start whenever you're ready."
"Thank-you. It'll be about ten minutes."
In came Arthur, straightening his tie. "Alright," he said, "I'm going out there to wait for y parents and give the okay for everyone to go in. You okay?" he asked.
"As okay as possible," she replied, ustering a nervous smile.
"Hey. In two days, we'll be married and they'll start warming up to you, once they realize they can't get rid of you. They've always been slow to warm up to people."
"i know. You've told me this before." Joanna tip-toed to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks for saying it all once more."
"Any time, my love. Now, I'd better be getting out there."
"Get on. And send James in here without alcohol, please. I need him sober tonight."
"Come on, if not us, then let him. Someone should enjoy themselves at this thing."
She shoved him out. He left laughing, just passing James in the doorway. "She's this close to freaking out," he said, measuring Joanna's emotional state between two fingers.
"I figured as much. Let me handle her; I've been doing this for a long time."
"My savior tonight."
"And every time you guys fight from now on. I have no idea how you'll survive a honeymoon without me. You should really be taking me with you. The porter said a car just pulled up; it looks like them."
"Thanks."
Joanna did indeed look frazzled. James had seen her nervous before, but not quite like this. He knew what she was going through, she had explained it to him in minute detail until one a.m. last night. Not his favourite way to waste an entire night, but he'd do anything for her, including sacrifice a night of much needed sleep. She wanted them, the in-laws, to like her as her previous ones had done and still did. That was truly impossible, the history she shared with them being beyond the comprehension of strangers. What she had tried to do was ease herself into their lives without replacing Arthur's ex-wife or seeming to. They were a different sort of people, rich, of course, because all stuck up white people are, occupying that set of society that had a naturally endowed sense of entitlement and prviliege. It was a feeling neither she nor he had ever shared. "You don't remember tham, James," she had said, "But mom and dad always taught us that good manners and an agreeable, polite character could take us anywhere. I believe that and it has worked , through school, college and my marriage to Eric. I don't understand why suddenly it fails to help." "aybe they're just morally different," he had suggested. She had no answer, because that was what she had been thinking, too, ever since she had first met them. Arthur was nothing like his parents, that was for sure, and for his sake alone did she try to get along with them. So, understanding this and sympathising, he approached and gave a comforting hug. "I hope that helps," he said.
"It does indeed. How are you faring?"
"i'll be vertical all night, if that's what you mean. But, damnably, there are no pretty girls to take my mind off it. Its too bad Arthur didn't spring for the full blown bachelor party; at least then I'd have the memories."
"Honestly," she exclaimed in a scandalized tone, "you paint yourself as some drunken Casanova of the hearts of females, but I know you're a model of virtue in your life. Hardworking, caring, not to mention generous, and these are all just things I hear about you, mind. I happen to know for a fact that you are a loving, devoted, and protective human being as well."
"Now, don't go ruin my reputation all in one night," he laughed. "Its too good for business."
"And you enjoy it," she added. "Look, there they are." Arthur had just ushered his parents into the room and was leading them over to where James and Joanna stood.
"My god," muttered James, "its the poster child for botox. What's her name?"
"Lauren Jackson, and don't forget it."
"I won't be able to. It sounds incredibly odious don't you think. My god, her face; can you say, too little too late."
Joanna hit him. "They've seen us," she whispered discreetly.
"Look at the toupee on that man. Can you conjure up any better images than that that say, trying to recapture y youth by wearing a sock on my head? I don't think he did anything that stupid, even when he was young." Joanna hit him again, but could not completely stifle a laugh. He watched as she greeted them, seeming much more at ease than she felt. It was an ability they both shared. He shook hands which each of the dreaded pair and exchanged a pleasantry or two before excusing himself. He found Laurence lingering between the lintels of the doorway, watching the last of the game. "Is everyone in?" he asked.
"Yeah, I' the last one. Come on, Michigan."
"Get in there, Laurence. We're going to start any minute now."
"Man, its tied and my team's got the ball."
James gave his sister a thumbs up and dragged his friend simultaneously away from the television and what he guessed to be a fifth whiskey. "We'll be right back," he said to Joanna on his way to the restroom. "Rinse," he told Laurence, tossing him a travel pack of Listerine. "And don't use it all. I'm next."
"The forecast still calling for cold weather?"
"Arctic, my friend. I don't think I can do this. I mean, if they hurt her or mess with her, I'll just-"
"Hey, man, calm down," said Laurence, handing him the bottle. "They are bound, just like everyone else, to obey the laws of courtesy. Besides, do you really think Arthur would let them get away with it? He's a good guy, give him some credit."
"He is a good guy. It's just that Jo's been through a lot, especially after Eric died. I was there when she got the news and I have never seen her so crushed by anything. I don't ever want to see that look on her face again, for any reason, and the right word from those people could do it. She's that fragile right now."
"Hey, she's tougher than you think, I'm sure. Now, swish and spit, although if you need an extra hit for alcohol, that stuff will do the trick. Gargle and let's go. We have a party to crash. You know the champagne is going to taste terrible after that, don't you?"