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Project 30, Chapter 19 |
| Written by Project 30 | |
| Wednesday, 06 August 2008 | |
Chapter 19 - Russell Potter (RE Potter)
When the harvest moon glows bright in the western sky, beware the five words.
So there I was sitting in this Chinese restaurant reading this fortune. I for one have never believed in the dribblings of a fortune cookie, but as I was soon to find out in the coming days; I should have taken heed to its warning.
I guess I should start by telling you my story from its beginning, or rather, the story that is the beginning to my end...so to speak.
My wife and I were dining at a Chinese restaurant near the outskirts of our quaint little town near the beautiful city of Washington D.C. It was the first time we had ever been to this restaurant and I'm still not really sure why she even picked this particular place to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary. But like I said, it was our anniversary so I didn't argue. When we pulled up; the first thing I noticed was the name of the restaurant that hovered over the entrance. (Brewsaré)... an odd name I thought for Chinese, but I figured if the food was good, who was I to care about a name. Well, we were sitting in the corner booth just talking about how all the years have flown by when our food arrived, Singapore rice noodles, and to my satisfaction the food was everything I had hoped for, excellent. After dinner is when this mysterious fortune cookie was placed before me, and that's when I read its message of these five words that would come my way. Not sure just what the hell it meant I laughed it off as you could imagine, but as you'll soon learn, that was my first mistake.
It was daylight when we had walked inside the restaurant so I had never notice. But when we exited out into the coolness of the night air the full moon was the first thing that caught my attention. Round and bright more so then I have ever seen a moon glow before in my entire life. My wife let out an eerie sound as she waved both hands around her head as to tease me and added also ‘Oooooooh,,,their coming to get cha,'... needless to say I laughed with her. But what happened next was no laughing matter. Just before getting inside the car I happened to look up to the neon sign that displayed the name of the restaurant we had just left. The first ‘R' and the ‘S' of the name had burned out from its neon sign forming the word ‘Beware' and it sent a chill up the back of my spine. I drove away shrugging it off, but when I turned on the radio is when I said, "ok, now that's weird." The song playing was (Candle in the wind) now I know the songs about Marilyn Monroe, but I felt he was singing it right to me. It was the next day after that when the invitation arrived in my mail. Needless to say I found it rather odd, but quickly whisked away the thought of any omen type stuff. The letter read...
‘You are cordially invited to the first annual Storiesville extravaganza.' At first, I had no intentions of even going since my wife would be out of town that same night on business. But seeing that it was being held only twenty miles from my home in near-by Washington D.C, I decided what the hell; it'd be fun to see everyone from the site and perhaps sign a few autographs to boot. Well the night finally arrived where I was to meet my fellow writer's from the site that keeps tightly held the pit of your soul. Donning my tuxedo and looking rather sharp I might add, I was now set to travel to the gala extravaganza. One more touch of cologne and a quick, ok, long glance in the mirror and I was out the front door.
I pulled up in my 1992 Yugo automobile and threw my keys in the direction of the young valet parker. With a look of shock that I've come to expect from owning such a classic car, I winked as I flipped him a coin and simply said, "You take care of her ya hear." As I headed for the entrance to the mansion I looked back and saw the youngster still standing holding my keys in his hand with his mouth wide open that I could only imagine from being in sheer awe. I felt on top of the world, and with my latest story being most viewed and most rated, I knew it would be a great night for me.
As I showed my invitation to the doorman I was handed a package with three simple words written in gold color on the box. ‘From the Admin' was all it said. I opened the gift and discovered a small pocketknife inside, complete with a can-opener and corkscrew. Thinking to myself how cheap a gift for a man of my statutes I placed the knife in my pants pocket and proceeded into the party thinking nothing more of it. Once inside, I removed a glass of champagne from a tray as it moved past me. I held it up to the light to see if it had the look of Don Perignon or the cheap texture of a Boone's farm of which I expected. But before I could make my assumption, something else caught my attention behind me in the reflection from the crystal glass.
"So you must be Mr. Potter," her delicate voice softly spoke.
Turning around I knew instantly who she was. Not from her voice, not even by her face, but from the silly name tag that I for one refuse to wear upon entering the premise.
"Hello Allmine," I said in my best Clint Eastwood voice. "What brings you out on a night like this?" After realizing just how stupid that question was, she spoke.
"You're so silly Mr. Potter, did I mention just how fabulous you look."
I smiled at her gesture as I finally took a sip from my glass of champagne. Don Perignon I thought to myself, nice touch admin.
"So, who is everyone here," I asked as I motioned around the room with my glass of bubbly swaying in my hand.
"We'll, that's Zombie Punk playing video games over there and drinking a coke, still a minor you know. Over there is Dirkin, but be careful, he's a tad moody tonight, long flight for him I suppose. There by the window is Lemon telling anybody who comes over all the grammar errors they've committed. You better stay away from her; she has a lot on you."
I thought to myself just how right Allmine was, and knew I should do my best to avoid Ms. Lemon. "So who's that over there I continually asked?
"We're not sure but we think its Tarhead, nobody knows since he's never been seen. Hey, did I already mention just how deliciously fabulous you look Mr. Potter?" She spoke as she glided her finger over the rim of the glass as she licked almost poetically her sultry red upper lip with her tongue.
Swallowing hard at her gesture of naughtiness, and before I could even answer her question... the lights went out. As the lights remained out I felt a brush as if someone glanced by me just as my drink went crashing to the ground. I felt the contents of the drink splash against pants and I hollered out, "hey watch it this suit wasn't cheap, nor was the champagne you just knocked out of my hand...*******." As I stood up gathering myself and making sure my hair hadn't messed up during my fall to the floor, the lights came back on. But something was different; no longer standing in front of me was Allmine. Patting my pants dry from the splattering champagne I noticed the cheap gift I was given at the door was no longer in my pocket. Someone had taken it from me when the lights had gone out moments earlier. But who would want my knife? And why? Before thinking more about this question I knew I needed a drink to think more clearly on the subject. It was then the blood-curdling scream was heard from the adjoining room. As the crowd gathered around the fallen body a loud gasp was heard from the guest who were in attendance. It was Allmine with the corkscrew of a pocketknife twisted in her neck. I knew it was my newly obtained knife that now had my fingerprints on it. My first question was why would someone what to frame me (all about me ya know). My next question was why did somebody want Allmine dead. My last question was where in the hell was the girl with the champagne tray (a bit thirsty). Maybe with Dirkin I assumed... that little bugger. I knew I had to get out fast. But before I could slip out the back door I was apprehended by the Admin's body guards and placed in a room where I was interrogated by a man who would only refer to himself as ‘the eye in the sky. With a fierce backhand to my face he yelled out the five words that sent shivers through my body, and at that moment I remembered my cookie of fortune.
"(Where's the God damn crown?")
"I don't have it," I pleaded my case to the eye in the sky. "Check with the others, they've always been jealous of my claim to the crown. Somebody stole it from me; it was probably Thirteen, Zombie, Dirkin or maybe even Tarhead. I was singing and squealing like a caged canary ever had."
"Allmine told me you had it!" the eye in the sky shouted at me again as he hit me with another backhand, sending me back to the hard floor.
"That *****," I thought to myself as I rubbed the sting from off my cheek.
"No, that dead ***** Mr. Potter," he reminded me. "Now I want that damn crown that's rightfully mine," he continued yelling. "Everyday I watch as you pathetic morons proclaim your so-called royalty and pass the crown back and forth when it should be given to me with open arms."
"Dude, it's just a fictitious crown for gods sake, it means nothing...chill out my man, its just all in fun for Christ sake."
"Say huh?" The admin sat down with a look of bewilderment on his face. "You mean I didn't have to kill Allmine after all, and set you up to take the fall to get a crown that doesn't exist. You mean I didn't have to spend all this money flying everyone in and throwing a lavish party to find a crown that doesn't even exist."
"Nah dude, I guess it's a lesson learned eh. Now can I get out of here and go home?"
"Not so fast," the eye in the sky said to me as he looked me up and down in a daunting way while rubbing his chin with his hand. "Has anyone ever told you that you look just like a hog?"
And with that, I thought of the movie Deliverance....
And I knew I was in for a long night. Copyright 2008 Project 30 |
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