Paranormal Anonymous Chapter Two

"So last week we heard Rod's story," Sherri says to the five other people sitting around me. This week we're in a classroom at the city college. This place reminds me of a time when the days seemed brighter and my future was so far in front of me. "this week I'd like the rest of you to say something." She looked around the room at the small circle of chairs we had set up. "Rod, if you wouldn't mind. Can you just briefly tell the rest of us again, what your paranormal issue is."
She laughed a little bit. I knew she just wanted me to go along with the formalities. So I stood up, a few of the rats that were trying to climb up my legs either fell off or hurriedly jolted up to my torso. The raven opened its wings and made a guttural sound.
"Hi, I'm Rodger. I go by Rod, for short. I have a bit of a pest problem." I motioned to the few dozen rats and single giant raven crawling over me as well as tearing apart the chair I was just sitting on a moment before.
"Hi, Rod." The rest of the group said in a dull monotone.
I sat down.
"That was excellent!" Sherri stood up and clapped. "Rod has been here for two months and we're trying desperately to find some answers for him." She looked around, spotted an old Asian woman and what I assumed to be her grandson sitting next to her. "Mrs. Kim, would you like to go next?"
The old woman muttered something to her grandson who stood up.
"My grandmother says," He had no Asian accent whatsoever. "that a giant squid is living in her closet. That there's another dimension in there." Then he sat back down.
"Well, I sure hope we can help Mrs. Kim out." Sherri said to the grandson. "May I speak with you two after the meeting?"
"Sure." The grandson replied.
"Excellent." Sherri looked to the young hispanic girl sitting next to Mrs. Kim. "Yasmine, would you like to introduce yourself?"
"I guess." She sounded like a chola. "I just been like...getting dez strange feelings, you know? Like I being watched or somethin'. Then like, maybe like a month ago...maybe it was like two weeks ago, I don't...but, like I was like...I mean I was just like sitting there, eating some food when I seen like dis monster sitting outside my window." She made a cross over herself. "Aye dios mio. I was praying to God to save me, pero he's still there."
"Who is still there, Yasmine?" Sherri asked with genuine concern.
"The freakin' creature!" Yasmine screamed. "He looks like a man but its got like legs, but not like regular legs, they look like horse legs or something."
"So its a centaur?" Sherri asked.
"A what?" Yasmine replied.
"Its a mythological creature with the torso of a man and the four legs of a horse."
"Oh, no. This guy only has two legs." Yasmine's eyes got really big. "Funny thing. I seen pictures of the devil and he look just like this monster!"
"Ah, I see. What you're being stalked by is called a satyr." Sherri said, quite pleased with herself.
"Whatever." Yasmine replied.
"How often does the satyr appear to you?"
"He's like always there, just watching me!" She screamed. "Even right now, he's standing by the punch bowl.
We all glanced over to the fold-up tables covered with cookies, coffee and a punch bowl. There was no satyr standing there.
"Its alright, Yasmine. That's what we're all here to help figure out."
"Thanks, I guess." She replied.
"Next is..." Sherri prompted.
"Hey, everybody." An old butch looking woman stood up. "Name's Deb and I reckon I been seeing a ghost."
"That's fascinating, Deb." Sherri said, again with a genuine concern. "Tell us more."
"Well, Sherri." Deb adjusted and looked at everyone before replying. "I reckon its the man in black."
"Johnny Cash?" Sherri asked.
"Hell if I know, he don't play me no songs. He just always there, like that little bean's story." There was a harsh exchange of looks between Yasmine and Deb. "Its freaky as hell, Sherri. That's all I gotta say about that." Then Deb sat down.
"Thank you, Deb." Sherri turned to the final person, who was yet another female. Only this one was younger than Deb and Mrs. Kim. She seemed about five years younger than me, roughly. She was kind of chubby and had great big blue eyes like looked like snow globes glistening in the fluorescent lamps on the ceiling. The girl stood up. "Folks, we have a new member joining us and her name is..."
"My name is Diane Clement, I'm from the future."
"That's incredible!" Sherri was ecstatic about that statement. "Where are you, sorry. WHEN are you from?"
"I'm from fifty years from now. I destroy the Earth and am here stop that from ever happening."
Oh, that's right. I should mention something really quick, reader. Diane is the girl I end up having kids with, but there's one minor problem (outside of my pest problem), she's absolutely, completely, inexcusably, and attractively out of her God damned mind. But now, looking back on all this in retrospect, I wonder if I'm the one who is even more out of their mind?

-Sir Jestro

Eyes Swollen Shut Chapter 5

"So are you some kind of ladies man, Bradley?" Carolyn asked. We were seated inside the ice cream shop. It was crowded, seems a bunch of other assholes had the same idea that I was given. But fortunately we found a small two chaired table next to the restroom. We sat in a tiny hallway, a wall with vintage wallpaper on one side and a tan colored one, with a single door -- employee access only, on the other. Behind us was the restroom. It was unisex and seemed to have a broken handle, because every now and then the door would slowly, and ominously creak open, we'd hear a gasp and then it would slam shut.
"No, not really. Why do you ask?" Carolyn was sitting with her hands under her legs staring more at her double mountain fudge sundae than me. Then she looked up, first at my chocolate malt crunch crone, then at my mouth, then finally at me. Or my eyes, rather.
"It takes big balls to just ask a random stranger out." She leaned to one side, her shirt swayed after her, and removed the arm on the other side. She picked up her plastic spoon and started chipping at the sundae. "Seems like only douche bags do that kind of stuff," She scooped a spoonful and brought it to her lips. Then she looked down at it. "or a ladies man."
She seemed to enjoy her sundae, even if she had to stop occasionally because of a brain freeze. I sure as shit enjoyed my cone.
"So..." I said after a few minutes of silence. I'm not going to lie, I was still in shock as to how this really happened. There was a lot of tension in my torso that I was trying to release. "What sort of things are you into..."
She smirked.
"I mean, besides sundaes."
She grinned and blushed a little bit.
"Besides sundaes, I dunno." She leaned back into her chair and cocked her head to one side, sizing me up again.
"I like you."
Wait, what? But I had a mouthful of chocolate malt crunch, so the words didn't make their way out.
"Don't give me that look. I like a man who is forward and doesn't play games." Then she turned her gaze to the floor. "And besides, its too hard for me to keep a guy."
"Why is that?" I finally had some freedom.
"Its just me they don't end up liking." She seemed embarrassed.
"Well, I think that's stupid." She looked at me. "I mean, look at you. You're gorgeous!"
"Thanks but..." She trailed off. "I just don't think it'd work."
"What the hell are you talking about?" What is it with girls? All they seemed to do was change the subject until you don't remember what they were talking about.
"I mean, I don't think we will work out."
"What makes you think I wanted more than ice cream?" I said. I was lying of course, I just had to keep a front up.
"And you don't?" She asked.
"Nope." I slouched into my seat and set my gaze go somewhere a thousand yards away.
"I think you are a ladies man, Bradley." I looked at her. "That's the best way to get a girl's attention. But let me warn you, I'm no ordinary girl." She grabbed her sundae and stood up. "So my attention will be a bit harder to get than that, but you're free to try."
I really had no idea what was happening, did this mean that we were going to start dating?
"Here's my number." She pulled a Sharpie from her purse and wrote the nine digit number on my hand in flowery, girly writing and turned to leave. "Its not a landline, obviously. Text me!"
Then she was gone, and I'm not sure if it was the ice cream or her but at that moment my head starting aching.
-Sir Jestro

First Real Post of 2013

Hello, all of my friends out there in dem internets. Hope you all had a good time with the end of the year. If not, then oh well, that's what we can hope for in 2013.
So that last post was actually from like two or three years ago. I just never got around to posting it because I felt that parts of it were pretty lame. But seeing as how you guys have started reading again, I had to deliver something, I've never wanted to be known for NOT producing.
2013 looks to be an epic year for ATTIC Icons, we might actually become a real live production studio, or not I haven't decided the extent of it all.
What I do know is: the second Professor Utonium's Perfect Little Girls EP will be coming out in June, I'm working on music videos now (if they're any good will be debatable), I still have two years of school in front of me, and I'm going to get something published by the end of the year.
I'm hoping it won't be something small like Trapped in a Room. I'd prefer something longer, but what it will be has yet to be decided. I'll get around to finishing some stories also, I can't just leave this blog to collect dust like I have been doing.
On another note, but not all together unrelated, I know you all remember that story Marionette's Maze, I've been rolling the idea around in my head of making it a video game. It'd most likely be a point and click puzzle game where you'd play as the detectives and I might animate or illustrate the chapters in the maze, I'll have to map out the logistics of it all and find a team of game developers to help me out, or at least teach me how to do it myself. But where's the fun in that?
Starting Monday I'll be taking my first elective, its a Graphic Novel class. I have no idea what to expect but if we have to come up with our own ideas you all will be sure to see them.
I'd also like to make Rabbit's Foot a film someday, I don't think that's in the cards for this year but I can at least come up with some preproduction notes for it.
I think that might be everything. If I can stick to my new and improved personal schedule then there should be AT LEAST one new chapter a week. Hey, calm down Liz, one chapter a week is doable even if I'm being lazy. One a day, however awesome that'd be, seems a bit overwhelming.
That might be everything friends, let's make 2013 epic as fuck!
-Sir Jestro

Mr. Demolished [Chapter One]

This is a story about a young man who had everything: A great school, perfect grades, beautiful girl that his family loved, all the money in the world, great life-long friends, amazing health. But this isn't a story of how great his life was, no this is the story of how his life fell apart and how he became,
Mr. Demolished.

 "Excuse me! What you're walking on is art!" A girl screamed. Mason jumped up, startled, as if he had stepped on gum or dog shit. He looked down at his feet, the bottoms covered in black & white paint that was seeping together, making grey. He looked up at the girl who had screamed at him.
"You on the ladder, what's this art supposed to be?" Mason called out to her.
"I'm calling it, 'Gravitational Art'!" She called back, the ladder was abnormally high.
"Gravitational...? What does that even mean?" He called looking between her and the splattered paint on the floor of the hallway.
"It means what I'm creating can never be predicted and can never be duplicated; a perfect harmony of man and nature." She said. "Now can you please move? You're in the way."
"Whatever you say." He said and began walking backwards. "Good luck with this whole...Gravitational Art...thing." Then he turned and walked out of the corridor.

"Mr. Mayor Jr! What's going on man?"
"Oh, hey, Rick." Mason said as he passed a young man his own age in a different corridor. "What's up? Don't you have class?"
"Yeah, but I'm taking today off. Gotta' have a little 'Me time', you know?" Rick responded as the two of them shook hands.
"Days off are for when you're sick and outta' college, Rick!"
"Whoa! Alright, Mr. Mayor I'll get to class right away!" Rick said sarcastically.
"That's not what I meant." Mason readjusted himself. "Its just in my family it was always, work now play later, you know?"
"I gotchoo' man, I'm just givin' you a hard time." Rick said with a grin. "But for serious, I'd better get outta here before you change my mind."
"Alright, I'll be seeing you." Mason said and continued walking. He entered his class, a small workshop, he found an empty desk and took a seat.
Time passed, the professor gave his lecture and the class began working on their assignments. Mason worked diligently until his right pocket started to vibrate. He stiffened, he knew cell phones weren't allowed in any of his classrooms. So he carefully slid the phone out of his pocket to check who was calling him.
"Dad" It said.
Mason stood and walked toward the door.
"Excuse me, Professor." He said as he approached him. "I have to take this call, its my father, he only calls when its important."
"Alright." His professor said and gave him an accompanying wave to the door.
"Thank you."
Mason walked into the adjacent corridor and answered his phone.
"Dad?"
"Hey, son! How's school?"
"Its great, I'm actually supposed to be in class, what's up?"
"Oh, I'll make this quick then." His father said. "I'm having an important dinner tonight in town, I'd like you to accompany me, how's that sound?"
"It sounds like there'll be a bunch of old people there." Mason said with a chuckle.
"Ha! Why do you think I wanted you to come with me?"
"Alright then, could be fun."
"Fantastic!" His father cheered. "I'll send a car to pick you up at your dorm at around six-thirty, be ready."
"I will be."
"Sounds great, now get back to class! Stop fooling around!"
"Alright, bye Dad." Mason said and hung up.
He returned to class.

Time passed.

It was roughly six o'clock when Mason's phone started ringing: actually it was the chorus of one of his favorite songs. "Steph" it said on the display. He answered the phone singing.
"Why do you always do that?" She asked.
"Because I love that song."
"Why do you always say that?" She giggled.
"Because you always ask that." He was grinning because he knew he was charming.
"Anyways!" She said loudly, Mason could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm having a meeting at my church next Thursday night, you should come."
"You know none of your church members like me, Steph."
"Don't say that, Mason. Just come, those Athiests are trying to say its unconstitutional for us to demolish that old courthouse to make room for our new church." She said.
"Well, they are right - to some extent. I mean that court house is a part of this city-"
"Enough with all that!" She cut him off. "God, why do I even bother with you. Seeing as who your father is it seems strange that you disagree with what he represents."
He was quiet.
"Look, I've got to get ready, I'm going out to dinner with my father. Bye." He hung up. "What a bitch."

More time passed.

Mason arrived to an upscale resturant.
Despite his upbringing, Mason was always amazed by these places.
"Mr. Hopps. We've arrived." The driver said.
"Thank you. Have a nice night." Mason said and handed the guy a twenty dollar bill. He stepped out and on to the dry sidewalk, he looked up to see the top of the building. It was magnificent building, standing what appeared to be miles into the sky. Mason was straining his neck trying to see the top, but then grew tired and adjusted himself. He'd gotten used to dressing up, his dad had been a political figure in this city for as long as he could remember, so it had become second nature, looking the part. But even still, it was a performance and Mason still had to transition into full acting mode.
"Just keep your mouth shut and smile." He said between his teeth while looking at his reflection in a window.
He rolled his shoulders and shook his hands, no doubt trying to release negative energy. Then straightened and entered the building.
-Sir Jestro