From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

On 4/27/25 5:07 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote:
<snip>

Is it time for someone to do the Official Warner Brothers
"Boy am I in Pain" Cartoon Dance?!-a What is Lime Green
Jello's view on bloodsports?!-a And are Train Rides to Hell
as great as they sound?!!!

I'd rather have those than a highway to hell, anyway!

-a -a -aThere's something about sitting on your rump, in the cold
moist earth, on a sunny, Sunday afternoon, anticipating the cool
rush of the train, its scintillating shadows hurrying over you,
beckoning and calling, promising a trip filled with adventure and
more.
-a -a -aIt sucks, that's what it does.

heeheehee

(the one with Bill Cosby, my lord and savior, indicating correct
time with a pudding pop in one hand, and a jiggler in another)

ah, dear

The hackles on
the back of my neck rose and fell, as if someone were running a
cheeze grater down the back of my neck (and don't ask me how I knew
how that felt...it's a long and boring story, and I _was_
acquitted).

X3

-a -a -aInstead, it was a train.-a Ow.-a Much pain.-a I should have let
the pickaxe I thought was there hit me in the face.-a As we all
should know by now, when one kicks a train, unless it is very
polite, it seldom gives.

Awwwww X3

-a -a -a(Lest the Gentle reader think I'm getting carried away with
this pain bit, I would recommend walking up to a locomotive in
question, and blindly thrashing out like your life depended on it.
What?-a Didn't hurt _half_ as much as I'm claiming?...damn
audience...)

XD XD XD

I attributed this to the fact that I
had Led Zeppelin 4 playing in my "Nigel Tuffnel" Walkman on 11,
with cotton balls in the earpieces to catch the excess blood, when
I realized I had forgotten to put in new batteries this morning.
The music promptly stopped.-a Damn.-a I hate it when I remember I was supposed to forget things...

heeheehee

-a -a -aThere were two doors, each leading to one of the two
compartments on this car.-a One had a Smoking Sign, so I quickly
reversed direction.

God, back when smoking cars on trains were a thing.

-a -a -aWeird.-a There was Mrs. Cummings, my fourth grade teacher.-a And Beth Armstrong, a girl I had sorta (but not really) expressed my
undying devotion to, and then asked her out on a date (I _do_ have
a problem with organization, I'll admit...the undying devotion bit
should have been saved for after the first fight).-a Anyway, she
never got back to me.-a And there was Roger Thornhill.-a The first
time I ever bet on my jello, I lost to him.-a How was _I_ to know
lime green disliked bloodsports?-a Anyway, I owed him $50 that I
never paid him.-a He was a rich weasel, and there were two good
reasons to avoid him like a slam dance with Typhoid Mary.
-a -a -aThe last was a young boy, looking supremely unhappy, and
wearing one of those weird uniforms, like the guy in AC/DC. -aI
_really_ wondered what he was doing here...

Fascinating. :o

-a -a -a"Hey, Weeve, do you hear a ripping noise, not unlike the sound
of aircraft metal shearing apa..."
-a -a -aAnd he was gone.-a And _that_ was deeply satisfying.
-a -a -aI sat, and began to think.-a He wasn't _aware_ of being on a train.-a He thought he was on an airplane bound for Hawaii, and he
_looked_ like he was.-a I mean, where did he get that seatbelt from?
Weird.

Oh *fascinating*. Now this is the good urban fantasy shit.

In this case, I
had a good friend of mine, who graduated with a PhD in material
science build me the ultimate Jellobowl.-a It was two pieces of ceramic-polymer alloy, molded together, so that there was a sealed
space in between.-a Pumped into that area was freon gas, to keep the
jello cold.-a The outside shell was insulated with the same ceramic
tile they use on the space shuttle, and the inside was coated with
DuPont Teflon, which makes cleanup a snap.-a It's such a jiffy
product, that I would market it, except few people would be in the
market for a $50,000 jello bowl.

Heeheehee

-a -a -aI decided at that point that things were really getting weird.
And when something gets too weird, you look for an authority figure
to bitch at.-a Worked in high school.

Bitching to authority figures never worked for *me* in high school. X>;

-a -a -aHe looked at me, with bus driver eyes...the kind that told you
that unless you stopped horsing around back there, no one was
getting home alive.-a As I was immortal, I pressed the point.

heeheehee

-a -a -aThe same look.-a It was then that I realized where I had seen
him before.-a Wilford Brimley!-a I couldn't recognize him, because he
wasn't hocking oatmeal or Friscoburgers.-a What the hell was the
archetypical grandfather doing on a train?

X3

-a -a -aThat was a mistake (well, not as big a mistake as kicking a locomotive, but you get the point).-a He reared up, a grey haired,
kind-eyed cobra, ready to strike, Geritol Complete dripping from
his false fangs.
-a -a -a"I think you should sit down, sonny." -aThen HE TOUSLED MY
HAIR!!-a I was in my seat in a flash, panting desperately, narrowly
avoiding one of those 'When-I-Was-Your-Age Lectures of Doom.'

XD XD XD

-a -a -aThe green tinted glass prevented me from looking in clearly,
and the door was somehow jammed.-a I did however, hear a voice,
clearly speaking.-a Pressing my ear to the cold metal, I listened:
-a -a -a"Weevil Dendrite, Jello Boy, doesn't know it, but that wasn't
_any_ train he stepped on back there.-a For the Synchronicity
Express runs on one track, and has but one Depot...in the Twilight
Zone."
-a -a -aAAAHHHH!!!!!-a Rod Serling was narrating my life, and not only
was he very dead, but he got my NAME wrong!

omfg

-a -a -aLooking at the passengers, it hit me.-a These people were
somehow my ticket out.-a By talking to Rog, I had, ahem, freed him
from the influence of the train.-a It made sense that by talking to
the right person, _I_ would be freed from this Commuter Inferno.

Hmmmm, fair enough!

-a -a -a"Might as well get the humiliation out of the way..." I
muttered. "Hey Beth!"

A good attitude. X>

-a"So
what are you doing, going to..." -aAnd like a schmuck, I was stuck.
_I_ had no idea where she was going.-a She was on her own mode of transportation, in Saskatoon, for all I knew.-a And she was just
sitting there, waiting for me to finish, chewing on her lower lip
in that delightful little way that reminded me of my dog, chewing
on my term paper five minutes before it was due.-a Something about
hopes and dreams being utterly and hopelessly shattered...
-a -a -aAnd, when stuck in a dilemma of this complexity, I summed up
all my strength, and did the one socially acceptable thing to do:
punt.
-a -a -a"So where are you going?"

Oooooh. Actual social intelligence!

-a -a -a"I got your poem.-a It's a...sonnet, right?"
-a -a -a"Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter, mushy crap...yup. -aA
sonnet."
-a -a -a"It _wasn't_ crap!-a It was very..."
-a -a -aSheisgoingtosaynicesheisgoingtosayniceGODDAMNsheisgoingtosay
"nice."
-a -a -a"...nice."

oh oof.

To me, nice is a four letter word.-a Thank God Noah
Webster supports me on this.

-a -a -a"And that bit about, "the rustle of satin sheets..."
-a -a -aWhoa!-a Hold on!-a Where did that...uh oh.
-a -a -aWhen Weevil says, "Uh, oh," people listen.-a And they're
usually my worst enemies.
-a -a -aThere's a reason why I call my sonnets Model 14-B.-a Fourteen
is for the number of lines.-a B is for the version number, a
revision.-a It's not that B is any better or worse than A,
artistically.-a It's just that the contents of the A series would
get me locked up in some states.
-a -a -aAnd Beth had gotten an A by accident.-a Whoops.

Ohhhhh dear. X3;;;

-a -a -a"So...?"
-a -a -aIt was a feeble enough question.-a It put the ball solely in
her court, but at times, having a lovely shaped spiked heel pressed
against one's throat was not an unpleasant feeling.

Hell yeah hell yeah. n.n Happy to see people being this kinky.

-a -a -aMrs. Cummings seemed to be next.-a One passenger robbed me, one passenger bonged me.-a What could a sixty year old retired grade
school teacher do to me?-a My body shuddered at the thought.

hehehe

-a -a -aRecognition flickered. -a"Why, you're that strange jello boy!"
-a -a -aI wanted to kill her.-a Strapping her to the hood of my non- existent car and driving through a forest wasn't enough.-a She would
die, and painfully.

I dunno, that seems a reasonable way to refer to him. n.n

-a -a -aIt was the work of a genius. -a"Weevil Dendrite, Grade 4." -aI
let out a slow whistle.-a Here, displayed in a complex crayon
matrix, was...something.
-a -a -a"I always wanted to give it back to you, but it was so..."
-a -a -aGood?-a Unique?-a Brilliant?
-a -a -a"...strange."
-a -a -aStrange.-a Strange was worse than nice, and that's saying a
lot.

Jeez. *Hard* disagree, TBH.

-a -a -aAnd she stopped talking, and stared forward.-a Her eyes seemed focused on a bright yet distant object. -a"They're all gone,
Weevil."
-a -a -a"Who are?" -aHer marbles, probably.
-a -a -a"Every one.-a My friends.-a My family.-a They're all gone but me. The first one, Mary Beth Jones, left me when I was 11.-a I was so
mad at her.-a I didn't understand why she couldn't come over. -a_I_
got sick, and after a week, _I_ was all better.-a So why couldn't
she?-a They had to take me to the...place...to show me...
-a -a -a"And then they all started going away.-a I didn't want anything
to do with that, with that thing, so I never went to any of their
funerals.-a They had left me, all alone, and I didn't understand.
-a -a -a"But now I do.-a Now I _do_ know what to say to them, but
they're all gone.-a I can't do it.-a I can't say goodbye anymore.
-a -a -a"Do you know what I want, Weevil?-a To get a second chance, to
walk up to a stranger, so soon after and still trembling from the
shock, and tell them that it's all right.-a That they're not
deserting the world, but racing ahead, to get the next one ready.
-a -a -a"That's what I want to do."
-a -a -aAnd I didn't want to throttle her anymore.-a I wanted to hug
her, and tell her that it's all right.-a But the Express moves on,
and she was gone.

HOLY SHIT. This suddenly turned EXTREMELY GOOD. This is why I fucking
love amateur fiction.

-a -a -aI sat like that, numb, feeling the soft purr of my portable
Jello Cooler course through my body.-a It was five minutes before I
blinked, and when I did, the tears flowed.-a Why, I wasn't sure. -aI
had seen, in a flash, wisdom, age, youth, death, life, and humility
displayed before me, and I didn't know which made me want to die
inside.

<3 <3 <3

-a -a -aAnd then the brat behind me kicked me in the kidneys for the
352nd time.

X3

-a -a -a"Who are you?"
-a -a -a"I asked first."
-a -a -aHm.-a We were playing by a new set of rules here, one which I
had abandoned in the glorious fifth grade.-a There was but one
response.
-a -a -a"I asked second."
-a -a -aSuitably confused, he was satisfied.

X3

-a -a -aIt was my turn to be compassionate. -a"What's wrong?"
-a -a -a"Why were you crying?"
-a -a -a"I asked first."
-a -a -a"I asked second." -aDamn, the kid was quick.
-a -a -a"I..." This was tough.-a I had to think of something that would justify a good cry, without losing face. -a"...was just given a
wedgie."

Nooooo, you gotta be honest, dangit!

-a -a -aHe shrugged, not impressed.
-a -a -a"And my elastic is above my belly button."
-a -a -a"OOOHHH!!!!" He winced, familiar with the sensation.

X3 That's also pretty fun tho.

-a -a -a"I'm to be beaten when I get home." -aHe looked at his feet.
-a -a -a"Why?"
-a -a -a"I was playing in class, and Teacher caught me."
-a -a -a"What were you playing with?"
-a -a -aHe looked around, conspiratorially, and I joined in.-a Fifth
grade was so much fun!
-a -a -aHe removed a wooden lump from his pocket.-a It was a yo-yo.
-a -a -a"Teacher saw it, wrote a note, and now I have to give it to my mother.-a When she sees it..." -aHe shuddered.-a I felt for him.

hahaha the past was FUCKED. Not that the present isn't but god DAMN at
least this isn't normal anymore.

-a -a -a"There's a boy whom everyone picks on.-a His name is Tim
Hunter.-a Otto, the bully, picked a fight with him, and he dropped
his yo-yo.-a Just as Otto jumped on him, this man appeared..."
-a -a -a"...wearing a trenchcoat, right?"
-a -a -a"You saw it then!"
-a -a -a"No, not really.-a Just a lucky guess.

Ahhhhh, Books of Magic. ...grumble.

-a -a -a"So...if the kid here doesn't show the note to his mom, will
he get beaten?"
-a -a -aQuiver.-a No.-a Cool!-a Problem solved.
-a -a -aAnd then it quivvered.-a Something was wrong.
-a -a -a"It's not that simple, is it?"

Oh boy.

-a -a -aI thought.-a Dead?
-a -a -aQuivvvver.-a Damn.-a An accident?
-a -a -aQuiver.-a He's KILLED?
-a -a -aQuivvvvver.-a Murdered?
-a -a -aQuivvvvver.-a There was more.-a Molested?
-a -a -aQuivvvvvvvvvvvver.-a Who?
-a -a -aNothing.-a Too complex a question.-a Divining the truth would
take a while.
-a -a -a"Oh, here's my stop!"
-a -a -aDamn!

Oh my god, this is *good*.

-a -a -aQui---vvvver.-a FUCK!-a It was DYING!-a I had used too much on Roger!-a I had about three more questions.
-a -a -a"Male?"
-a -a -aQuivvvver.
-a -a -a"A relative?"
-a -a -aQui---------vvvver.-a One more.-a Two thousand questions, and I
only could ask one.
-a -a -a"Goodbye." -aHe got out of his seat. -a"Give ME SOMETHING!" I shouted at the pot of sugar.
-a -a -aquiverrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.-a And it died.

daaaaaaaamn

-a -a -aAnd that was that.-a I watched him walk, away from me, to his death.-a I was about to take my first innocent life, allow someone
who had done me no harm die violently and senselessly.-a I could not
stop it.-a I could not pass the threshold of the Express.-a I knew
this.-a I could not interfere in his fate.-a All because he was kind
enough to talk to me.

UGH THAT'S SO GOOD.

-a -a -aAnd then it hit me.-a The Jello never hung on the end like
that.-a It always throbbed in the middle, where the wavelength was
higher.-a It was trying to TELL me something! -a"_R._ -aRICHARD!"
-a -a -aI was running at the door, passing through phantom students
trying to get out in another place, so far away.

ugggggh :D

-a -a -aNow one would think a pile of Jello was a poor weapon.
However, I spared no expense with this particular projectile,
making sure it was wrapped safely in its Jellobowl.-a As Jeremy, the designer, told me once, the concrete would break long before this
10 pound monstrosity.-a And that's what I was counting on, that
Uncle Richard had a head slightly less dense than concrete.
-a -a -aI screamed "RUN!" at the top of my lungs, seconds before
impact.-a Uncle Richard never saw it coming (Would you expect to be
hit by a $50,000 piece of crockery?).-a Ignoring the howl of pain
his uncle gave, the boy looked back at me through the portal of
space and time generated through the Express, and understood.-a And
RAN.
-a -a -aAnd the door closed.-a And the train lurched onwards.
-a -a -aAnd I was all alone, speeding toward Coincidence Central.

*Whew*. :D

-a -a -aAnd I did.-a I tried to ignore the thoughts that trembled
through my brain.-a What I had made no difference?-a What if I had
made it worse?-a What if I had CAUSED his death?
-a -a -aThe Express knew.-a It knew how long it took me to ponder these
very questions.-a This was its punishment for breaking schedule.

*Gawd*. Yeah. @.@

-a -a -aWhether or not the boy was dead, however, I knew one thing.
I had ACTED.-a And it was a lot better than before.-a I was no longer
a victim of fate, and I would help others free themselves.-a ANd for
all that, he had left the yo-yo with me.-a Great.

Hell yeah. <3

-a -a -aI had stepped out of a bathroom, apparently, from the stench
that clung to me.-a I was in a bar, and in my moment of truth, was
faced by two hundred hideously dressed...
-a -a -a...Trenchcoaters?-a I fainted.

Drew "that's the shit" Nilium
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