Freebees number two

This is something I wrote a long time ago. I am cheating like a motherfucker and I feel the hard stares. I don't care this time. I am reposting this today not because I am lazy, but because I am looking for some kindling that might stoke my fire. As a writer I have found (mad/insane)inspiration from reading others work that influenced me and I am greatly inspired to write when my life is at its worst points. As silly as it sounds, I am a firm believer in synchronicity and a common consciousness. So I am throwing it out into the collective winds as it was thrown to me originally, in hopes to have it return to my dreams sooner than later. It is a selfish thing but a positive thing too.

C'est la vie.





Somewhere South of Real


by Joe Keller's organic being


Setting: A sometimes jarring yet comfortable train. The cabin is pitch black except for the warm golden lights that blur by the windows at random intervals. There are random images of past lives' visions playing on a small television screen that plays more static than the actual television show. These images are all fond memories connected to no particular person.


CHARACTERS

Little Boy
Mommy
Train Conductor
God
The Devil




LITTLE BOY
Mommy, I think I am sick and might need some medical attention.

The train loudspeaker crackles to life, blaring in perfect 8-bit quality, "Elf needs food badly"

MOMMY
I can't afford to take you anywhere. Get a job and make sure it has some good benefits---

TRAIN CONDUCTOR
(Voice Over through train speaker)
Please hide your cell phone and lock your doors. All sharp objects and cooking devices need to be detached from this ride as this train only makes one stop.

Sounds of breaking glass surround the interior car as large household items are tossed out the train's breaking windows. Knives, cords and cleaning supplies are being swept into the air from an unknown shadowy location and are thrust out into the night sky.

MOMMY
The stop you are making is not at the hospital or local jail. Get your life together young man and stop being such a wimp! I raised you to be better than that.

LITTLE BOY
O.K. I think I am doing better anyways. Besides, I have to go to the bathroom and will forget about being sick as soon as I stop staring at this purple screen in front of me.

TRAIN CONDUCTOR
(Voice Over through train speaker)
Next stop Hell. No reboarding passes will be accepted. Please remove all personal baggage from your compartment.
Viewing out the window of the speeding train, little boy looks up and sees Hell; demons are all red-skinned porn stars and the devil is George Lucas. They are all lounging on frothing orange clouds and discussing the war in Iraq over warm martinis. Everyone is beautiful and lavishly, if not scantily, clothed. Someone throws up in the background and the Devil quickly turns off the lights of Hell with a snap of his finger.


MOMMY
Told you you'd end up there if you kept up your evil blasphemous ways! Now be a man and face the consequences of your sinful life. I will be looking down from heaven praying for mercy on your charred and ruinous soul. She picks up a leash that is connected to gleaming silver cord pinched in-between the closed train doors.

Little boy looks out from a broken passenger window and sees Heaven below him. It is upside down as if looking into a puddle. God, a chrome-plated robot, blindly fires a large machine gun into the picturesque sky of blue and gold. The angels are Every Underprivileged Person In The World and their undersized dirty t-shirts say so. The angels are each leashed to a single bullet strung through Gods never-ending ammunition supply. When he fires a round, the angel attached violently explodes against an unseen wall somewhere in the distance. Their bloody remains congeal into shiny new bullets after sliding down the invisible wall to heavens ground. Through a speaker hanging askew from Gods mirror-shine mouth you hear broken laughter. The Angels shout praises to God while simultaneously securing their leashes.

LITTLE BOY
I am not even grown yet! I don't even know of a hell. How can I be responsible for my actions when I am just now figuring out what they can cause? I am already damned. Have I no choice in life? If I can do anything I put my mind to, why is my mind limited to only doing so much?

GOD
(Voice Over through train speaker)
Social order buddy, ha ha buzzzzzzzz.


TRAIN CONDUCTOR
The Train Conductor now stands beside open door at the rear of the train car. His speaking voice sounds as if it is still coming from the overhead speaker. Life isn't fair unless you are someone else and someone else you will never be. Now please, tuck and roll.

Little Boy is tossed out into the rushing winds and is carried like a feather into some unknown, invisible path. Lights fade to black while Nine Inch Nails: Head Like A Hole plays its entirety.





Based on SK's reaction to reading this, I felt there was a need to clarify the post. Upon rereading it, I realize I am unable to touch it. It's loosely written in the form of a playscript and it involves a mother and son on a train that travels through the cosmos, to Hell presumably. I was the Personal Home Stenographer on this one so I can't unravel it's mysteries either.

So much for a clarification huh?