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?"