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    Enter Hoodoo


    Posts : 7
    Join date : 2012-01-23
    Age : 31
    Location : Sacramento

    Enter Hoodoo

    Post  Hoodoo. on Thu Jan 26, 2012 5:18 am

    As sock-padded sandal after sock-padded sandal slammed into the extent of sidewalk between his apartment and his destination, Steven propelled himself as quickly as his stocky frame would allow, his plastic Dragonborn Helmet squeezing his temple just enough to feel his pulse. The loud "clap" of rubber on concrete heralded his realization of just how bad a decision it was to attempt to run anywhere in sandals, stylish and comfortable as they may be. "God damn it son of a bitch FUCK" he shouted at himself in his head as he veered the corner, nearly removing a parked car's sideview mirror. This was the one thing of any real significance he had prepared to do today and somewhere along the line, probably while making that paper towel holder out of 2 big-gulp cups and his late grandmother's cane he had lost track of time. He clenched the envelope in his fist just a bit too tightly thanks to the upsurge of adrenaline, but he'd rather have this particular scrap of paper be slightly crumpled rather than late.

    As he whipped himself around the corner, Steven just barely managed to swerve his body in time to miss stomping on Wembly, the mentally challenged-looking Boston Terrier being walked by that obnoxious hipster couple that lived a couple doors down from him. Who the fuck names a dog after an obscure-ass side character muppet from 2 decades ago, for fuck's sake? It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't feel the urge to explain their reasoning every god damn time they both occupied adjacent space, either. He silently cursed himself for not realizing who he almost slammed into a moment earlier and "accidentally" bullrushing them, freeing the lumbering derpbeast from his prison of kitschy ironic existance, but there was more prevalent business to attend to. From the edge of the shopping center parking lot he could see the mailbox in all its graffiti-tagged, gum-encrusted magnificence.... and he could see through the front window of the Post Office.... Nathan was working today...

    Nathan was a postal worker, which should give a hint toward his grasp of reality right away, but he took his shit seriously. Every postal carrier has to take a beuracratic oath and sign a federal contract when they don the blue bike shorts of freedom, but Nathan was the first to sign his in blood. In fact, they made him sign another one with a pen, but the original still hangs in his den to remind him of his commitment. He approached being a government-employed file clerk the way people approached knighthood back in the day. You live by the shorts and you die by the shorts. There would be no leniency for the final collection this day, and Steve knew that by the way Nathan was staring a hole into his wristwatch that the moment was drawing near. There was no way he could dodge the afternoon traffic in the parking lot and drop his envelope into the slot in time. This was a time for drastic measures...

    Steven allowed his eyes to go out of focus for a moment, surveying the entire parking lot at once, drinking in the possibilities of the world around him. There were only a few cars parked in the lot, but the senior center was letting out for bingo night, so walking anywhere was hazardous to the average pedestrian, or at the very least would slow him to an unacceptable degree. He noticed that quite a few of the imminently graveyard-bound that were shuffling through the lot were stealing shopping carts to use as makeshift walkers. He tapped his heel against the ground, looking like footage of either Elvis Presley or a seizing epileptic, to gather a mental inventory of the contents of his pockets, and a smile crept across his unshaven face as a plan came together. Without skipping a beat, he flattened the letter against his chest and did his best to smooth it out with one hand as the other fished into his pocket for a few extra rubber bands that he happened to have with him because.. well... fuck, because they're rubber bands, you always fucking need rubber bands. He veered off-course and made his way to a car with a peculiarly-bent antennae, where he linked 3 or 4 of the elastic loops together and loaded the envelope in the middle of them.... and then he waited, his eyes dilated and trained on Mr. Henderson, counting his steps and his movement speed as he shuffled along with his stolen cart... this was going to be close.

    Nathan nodded and put his wrist down inside the Post Office, signaling Steven to release his paper projectile, the corners bent just-so to allow it to spin and float across the lot, over the geriatric rodeo. He held his breath and watched, the letter's trajectory seeming perfect, every spin and flutter panning out as foreseen in his mind the split-second before launch.... then Mr. Henderson tripped, causing Steven's jaw to drop. He wasn't hurt, in fact it seemed to have propelled him a couple feet forward ahead of schedule, but that would ruin the entire flight path and that couldn't be allowed... this simply was too important a mission to fail to such a simple miscalculation... Mr. Henderson had to be slowed back down.... and at once Steven knew what he had to do... he planted his feet, waiting for the precise moment that Mr. H's hearing aid would be able to deliver his signal and took a breath...

    The length, complexity, and sheer astounding vulgarity that erupted from Steven's mouth had not been heard on a mortal plain in millennia, and such foulness had not been uttered by mankind without attempting to wake an eldrich horror. The entire lot ground to an immediate halt as dozens of shocked and confused senior citizens turned their wrinkled little heads and stared, mouths agape, at the source of what can only be described as a vocal sexual assault. In nearby neighborhoods, children would hear the echo of a fraction of Steven's oral explosion and block it out, destined to be haunted by it in therapy sessions decades from now. It may have been a bit over the top, even for his standards, but his tirade had the desired effect. Mr Henderson stopped in his tracks, staring at him and clutching his chest, as the envelope skipped against the corner of his cart and spun off, fluttering into the mail slot just as Nathan turned his key to open the side panel.

    Steven threw his arms into the air in celebration, imagining rock anthems by Queen in his mind as he strolled away from ground-zero. That was a close one... he needed to take his unemployment claims more seriously in the future... If that damn thing had been a day late, they would've docked his payment. It was a bit curious that the senior center had their bingo night on a Saturday though, they had always been on Fridays before... and then the realization hit Steven so hard that he nearly lost his balance... He just turned his claim in a day early.... and also, if he was in such a goddamn hurry, he could have just driven the 6 blocks to the post office and gotten there with time to spare. Might've even had time for a frozen yogurt first.

    After a few mental calculations, he came to the conclusion that it was Friday, the 20th... which would mean that Liz, his Fiance, had been waiting for him to pick her up downtown from work for at least an hour and a half...

    "Ah shit..."

    Posts : 30
    Join date : 2012-01-23
    Age : 28
    Location : West Virginia

    Re: Enter Hoodoo

    Post  LastSeraph on Thu Jan 26, 2012 12:17 pm

    Ahahahaha, that was awesome! I wonder how we can figure out a way to get you to put your MacGuyvering skills to use for good and justice.... rather than filing an unemployment claim (as important as that may be otherwise).

    Posts : 38
    Join date : 2012-01-23

    Re: Enter Hoodoo

    Post  Evan_The_Actor on Thu Jan 26, 2012 10:19 pm

    Hahaha! I was very amused by this, and need more. I've immediately warmed up to the idea of this guy. The thought put into this needs commendation. It's great.

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    Re: Enter Hoodoo

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