Post by Jack of Blades on May 24, 2006 11:23:16 GMT -5
(You would expect to find many things on top of a commercial building advertising 'STEEDS' in neon capitals. Drunkards whose appendages rose to the occasion. Stockbrokers for who this was originally a detour to avoid coming home and arriving to the remonstration his wife had prepared for his financial failures. But not a WCF superstar. Well not on a weekday and not wielding a golf club. And yet, here was the former gambler and heir, Ace swinging a sandwedge as if it were a pendium between his legs as was advertised by Jack. The broken addict assumed it was done to a whim of insanity on why his 'old friend' had requested the club. He suggested that there was no reason towards such a plea as the letters behind tanned his flesh red before blinking his skin back to its regular hue.)
Ace: So why did you call me up here anyway?
(Ace sensing through changes of the wind, treading on the gravel, or simple psychic ability asked this under the impression he was not alone. He knew not to turn around as it would simply further Jack's ego in suggesting his physical appearance was worthy of being seen 'by a little rich boy.' The wind changed further and the treading became deeper as the figure came closer. A figure wearing atypical golfing attire. Beret, polo shirt and baggy checkered trousers. Only one person would be willing to appear in such a fashion in this part of town without fear of being mugged or having his sexual comfortability extremely denegrated. Of course, no one would be able to realise who this gordily dressed figure was unless they had as much experience as Ace. His bandaged face still disguised his identity to a massive degree.)
Jack: Any jumpers tonight?
Ace:What did you call me up here for? Or are you just not going to tell me?
Jack: I'm guessing that's a no then. Bugger. What with the FTSE taking a tumble I thought I'd see some synchronised suicides. Anyway, what are you doing asking why 'I called you up here?' A starry night, the day-glo warmth of a neon phonemes, two strapping lads. Alone.
(Before Jack, in all his disrespect of boundaries, could continue in such a suggestion of degeneration, the wind formed again and gravel shifted in sync with a panting breath collapsing onto the roof from the direction of the fire escape.)
Jack: It's all right Jesper. I found the backstairs.
(Ace bothered to turn around to acknowledge 'the third' as a panting six foot man came closer in a stoic attempt at restoring his composure. In the infinite cold of suburbia at night, this black muscle man was wearing a vest alone. However, Ace quickly calculated that the variety of clubs weighing his back down must at least provide some protection for the harsh environment. Ace had noticed this man (Jesper Reisert to his mother) from some of Jack's interviews as a role of constant support. Something which Jack, in all his solipsism would need.)
Ace:Who is this guy, your latest lackey?
Jack: Meet Jesper. My caddy.
(At Jack's introduction, Jesper attempted to pierce the stones and concrete with one of the many plastic tees. Seeing this as futile, Jesper came up with the idea of using his teeth as a clamp and signalled for his pen-mate to use a particular club for the swing. The repulsion on Ace's face was obvious and in time with the explosion of blood spewing from Jesper's mouth as Jack teed off.)
Jack: FORE!
(This warning was truly warranted, Ace thought to himself, as the golfball fell out of view and onto the concrete road below instigated numerous blows of car horns and burnt clutches.)
Ace: Is this the reason why we are up here?
Jack: So what's the customary thing to do on events like this. A game of golf with the boys from work, eh? Discuss work-related topics and ask that the actuation reports are filled by Friday? Well ok, let's discuss work.
Ace: What work? You mean this weekend when we face Simply Outrageous. The only thing outrageous about them is there win/loss record
Jack: Yes, I was somewhat disappointed to see that the 'suits' have changed my plans for this week. All to protect that little deer of a manager and her charges of a retard and a zombie. Who are we going against again?
Ace: Simply Outrageous.
Jack: 'Simply Outrageous.' Sounds like a sitcom that exclusively features and caters for homosexuals. The fact that they wear leather to the ring doesn't exactly contradict my argument. Sure, it might be related to them riding bikes but I'm pretty sure they won't wanna doing that again after knowing what I did to the fuel tank. Jesper, take a note. Note to Jack: Do not use Simply Outrageous' gasoline.
(Jesper, still spewing and still eager, takes out a blunt pencil and notepad and records Jack's message before half-swallowing another tee and lying down in front of Ace as if to expect the same response that he received off Jack. Ace stares down at him in disbelief but places a tee in his mouth all the same.)
Jack: So all that remains is the question: are you willing to follow suit and do some over-time?
(He hands Ace a club in the expectation that his answer will be present in his reluctance or pleasure to swing. Jack rarely believed in the dictom of 'actions speak louder than words' but he was willing to install such a theory for this occasion. Ace looks down at Jesper before asking to swap the club for a driver, which is handed to him by Jack.)
Ace: This is how you do it.
(Ace takes a step back, before taking a running start and striking the ball from Japers mouth and out into the freeway below.)
Jack: NINETEEN! Why do you shout numbers in this game?
Ace: I have no clue. I've only ever played the game once but i got kicked off the course for aiming at as window.
Jack: Ah yes. Nolan's mother told me about that. You should have explained that it had nothing to do with seeing who can scare the aged country club members into death. Of course, I'd have left it to the ravages of time. Always the cruelest mistress. Bar the cruelties of Time-bomb.
(With great release, Jack's club found itself being hurled over the top of the building and eventually smashing open a parking turnstyle releasing quaters and coins for the lucky drugged passers-by. And with that Jack was gone quicker than anything Keyser Soze could muster as a small burst of laughter distanced itself from the rooftops as it descends the fire escape as if the one laughing was simply sliding down it. Ace, in his segregation, looks over near to the broken turnstyle gets a ball out and places it on the gravel before taking aim and hitting it over the roof, there is a scream as it hits someone, Ace runs off towards the fire escape and quickly climbs downleaving a bloodied Jesper to take the disused equipment to hit an unseen five-hundred yard drive. There was the chance that Jesper was thinking about the philiosophical nature of this event with no observers but it was much more likely he was contemplating the fact that his side of the family was much more talented at the game.)
Ace: So why did you call me up here anyway?
(Ace sensing through changes of the wind, treading on the gravel, or simple psychic ability asked this under the impression he was not alone. He knew not to turn around as it would simply further Jack's ego in suggesting his physical appearance was worthy of being seen 'by a little rich boy.' The wind changed further and the treading became deeper as the figure came closer. A figure wearing atypical golfing attire. Beret, polo shirt and baggy checkered trousers. Only one person would be willing to appear in such a fashion in this part of town without fear of being mugged or having his sexual comfortability extremely denegrated. Of course, no one would be able to realise who this gordily dressed figure was unless they had as much experience as Ace. His bandaged face still disguised his identity to a massive degree.)
Jack: Any jumpers tonight?
Ace:What did you call me up here for? Or are you just not going to tell me?
Jack: I'm guessing that's a no then. Bugger. What with the FTSE taking a tumble I thought I'd see some synchronised suicides. Anyway, what are you doing asking why 'I called you up here?' A starry night, the day-glo warmth of a neon phonemes, two strapping lads. Alone.
(Before Jack, in all his disrespect of boundaries, could continue in such a suggestion of degeneration, the wind formed again and gravel shifted in sync with a panting breath collapsing onto the roof from the direction of the fire escape.)
Jack: It's all right Jesper. I found the backstairs.
(Ace bothered to turn around to acknowledge 'the third' as a panting six foot man came closer in a stoic attempt at restoring his composure. In the infinite cold of suburbia at night, this black muscle man was wearing a vest alone. However, Ace quickly calculated that the variety of clubs weighing his back down must at least provide some protection for the harsh environment. Ace had noticed this man (Jesper Reisert to his mother) from some of Jack's interviews as a role of constant support. Something which Jack, in all his solipsism would need.)
Ace:Who is this guy, your latest lackey?
Jack: Meet Jesper. My caddy.
(At Jack's introduction, Jesper attempted to pierce the stones and concrete with one of the many plastic tees. Seeing this as futile, Jesper came up with the idea of using his teeth as a clamp and signalled for his pen-mate to use a particular club for the swing. The repulsion on Ace's face was obvious and in time with the explosion of blood spewing from Jesper's mouth as Jack teed off.)
Jack: FORE!
(This warning was truly warranted, Ace thought to himself, as the golfball fell out of view and onto the concrete road below instigated numerous blows of car horns and burnt clutches.)
Ace: Is this the reason why we are up here?
Jack: So what's the customary thing to do on events like this. A game of golf with the boys from work, eh? Discuss work-related topics and ask that the actuation reports are filled by Friday? Well ok, let's discuss work.
Ace: What work? You mean this weekend when we face Simply Outrageous. The only thing outrageous about them is there win/loss record
Jack: Yes, I was somewhat disappointed to see that the 'suits' have changed my plans for this week. All to protect that little deer of a manager and her charges of a retard and a zombie. Who are we going against again?
Ace: Simply Outrageous.
Jack: 'Simply Outrageous.' Sounds like a sitcom that exclusively features and caters for homosexuals. The fact that they wear leather to the ring doesn't exactly contradict my argument. Sure, it might be related to them riding bikes but I'm pretty sure they won't wanna doing that again after knowing what I did to the fuel tank. Jesper, take a note. Note to Jack: Do not use Simply Outrageous' gasoline.
(Jesper, still spewing and still eager, takes out a blunt pencil and notepad and records Jack's message before half-swallowing another tee and lying down in front of Ace as if to expect the same response that he received off Jack. Ace stares down at him in disbelief but places a tee in his mouth all the same.)
Jack: So all that remains is the question: are you willing to follow suit and do some over-time?
(He hands Ace a club in the expectation that his answer will be present in his reluctance or pleasure to swing. Jack rarely believed in the dictom of 'actions speak louder than words' but he was willing to install such a theory for this occasion. Ace looks down at Jesper before asking to swap the club for a driver, which is handed to him by Jack.)
Ace: This is how you do it.
(Ace takes a step back, before taking a running start and striking the ball from Japers mouth and out into the freeway below.)
Jack: NINETEEN! Why do you shout numbers in this game?
Ace: I have no clue. I've only ever played the game once but i got kicked off the course for aiming at as window.
Jack: Ah yes. Nolan's mother told me about that. You should have explained that it had nothing to do with seeing who can scare the aged country club members into death. Of course, I'd have left it to the ravages of time. Always the cruelest mistress. Bar the cruelties of Time-bomb.
(With great release, Jack's club found itself being hurled over the top of the building and eventually smashing open a parking turnstyle releasing quaters and coins for the lucky drugged passers-by. And with that Jack was gone quicker than anything Keyser Soze could muster as a small burst of laughter distanced itself from the rooftops as it descends the fire escape as if the one laughing was simply sliding down it. Ace, in his segregation, looks over near to the broken turnstyle gets a ball out and places it on the gravel before taking aim and hitting it over the roof, there is a scream as it hits someone, Ace runs off towards the fire escape and quickly climbs downleaving a bloodied Jesper to take the disused equipment to hit an unseen five-hundred yard drive. There was the chance that Jesper was thinking about the philiosophical nature of this event with no observers but it was much more likely he was contemplating the fact that his side of the family was much more talented at the game.)
