A while back I posted about how to introduce
characters in your novel. I suggested you'd do it much like you would in person, avoiding the obvious descriptors and focusing on what made the person interesting and original.
I followed up with a post on
using dialogue to show what a character is like.
So, let's have a contest. Using the photos below, that are from BEA, write a couple lines of dialogue to show what these "characters" are all about.
Points for being something other than obvious.
Contest opens NOW [7am Wednesday June 12] and closes in 24 hours [7am Thursday June 13. Post your entry in the comments column of this blog post. Maximum word count: 50.
Sorry, Contest CLOSED now.
98 comments:
#1: "OK, so if I *had* an oar, I'd move it from side to side like this. I wouldn't let you drown, baby."
#2: "No, I swear. I bought the cross and T-shirt together. Don't they just juxtapose nicely? Huh? What’ya mean I'm missing a 't' on the logo?"
Man 1: “No, I'm not an agent, I'm a publisher. Always looking for new talent. Or someone that works really, really hard.”
Man 2: “Why did you force me into this pose? It's not exactly 'manly'. Maybe I should be showing off my muscles instead.”
Man1: When I woke in the hospital, that's when I said shit, this could be over like that. So I quit the beer and swallowed my pride and asked my ex for her copy of Vegetarian Planet.
Man2: Yeah, so your body's saved from death. But what about your soul?
“Pat! What’s up, Braah!” Tony said.
“I can’t call it, broseph,” Pat replied with a no-neck shrug.
They shook hands, speaking simultaneously:
“You taking something extra these days?” Tony asked, pointing at Pat’s arm.
“I see you still love the tanning bed,” Pat said with a smirk.
They arm wrestled.
#1: I became Ra's servant quite by accident really. I used to be a dung beetle and he was tickled by the way I rolled my muck. Figured I could work my magic with his sun.
#2: This is my third year as a man. It’s going better than expected.
“Tommy! Eyes on point; and scan.”
“Yeah, Top.”
“Never mind the chicks, we’re hunting a full bird Colonel. He will turn that little girl into a Rorschach test like the last two.”
“Yeah Top.”
“Gunny said; be a couple douches from Jersey, so blend.”
“We are recon! Top.”
“Focus Tommy.”
Cover model dialog contest (couldn’t resist naming this thing)
Starring, man in the white wife-beater, Richard Drivermen, ‘Dick for short’ and
man in the blue wife-beater, Benjamin Dover, ‘Ben’
“What time is it?” Dick asked.
“Two.”
“Gotta go.”
“You just got here.”
“Sorry man.”
“WTF’s the rush?”
“Gotta meet the school bus.”
“Oh yeah, you got a kid now. How’s that workin’ for ya?”
“The kid’s a shit, his mother’s a bitch but the bus driver’s a smoke-show.”
#1: "I was an early adopter of the word 'brony'. The way I see it, if you're going to have a guilty pleasure, you might as well own it. "
#2: "I don't usually dress like this, but my friend Gail is looking for his ex. She's supposed to be here."
#1 "I spent last summer building a pyramid in the Sonora Desert so I could get an authentic feel of the labor involved."
#2 This was the only human suit I could find.
Jared rushed over to his old friend. “OMG! Fabulous as ever. So, you got sex. Do tell.”
“Hey, Bro.” Damien patted Jared on the chest, preventing closer contact. “I’m a religious man now.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’m with the Church of the Sex Freaks. I’ll tell you all about it over lunch.”
"I'm really just here for the babes." Brad handed a woman his business card. "They get pretty freaky away from home. It's like spring break for them."
"Good luck, man. I've hit on every woman in this joint, but all I get are eye rolls and "yeah right".
"This line is ridiculous. If they run out my Nana's going to be so upset. She loves Nicholas Sparks."
"Mine too."
"Nights in Rodanthe" is just such a beautiful story. I mean, that's what she told me."
"Bro, I was at your Nana's funeral."
My advice? You get a good man, hang on to him. Alphonse, here? First time I asked him to dispose of a body, he flinched. But his brother, Rodrigo -- what a guy. When I asked him to dispose of Alphonse, he didn't bat an eye. Good man, that Rodrigo.
#1
"If I were a woman, no one would say anything. They wouldn't even notice, man. And that's what's wrong with this world. I think it's time people started sexualizing men--and I hope they start with me."
#2
"I mean, they told me it was casual attire. Someone said that. And my mom's always telling me to go boldly into the world, so I thought, yeah, why not? A life half lived and all that."
#1 "Why, yes, I have read 'The Bell Jar,' and it was AMAZING!"
#2 "How dare you! Why would you think I'd… What? NO! It says 'Got SAX?' I'm trying to find new members for my jazz band. I swear, show a little skin and suddenly you're public property."
"Hey, Brah. What 'cha doing over here? You working that table?" Doug set his hands on his hips, tired from circling.
"What, me? Nah, man. I'm waiting for someone. She's grabbing a pamphlet - then I'm grabbing her number." He flashed Doug a big smile.
"I guess you will soon, huh?"
#1: Can I tell you a sekrit. My arms are so big I can no longer wipe my butt the normal way. I have to--never mind.
#2: I hate that no matter how much bronzing lotion I slather on, my face remains this pasty, doughy pink. Sometimes I just want to curl up in the corner and cry, seriously guys.
“So, tell me, how do you like being the eye-candy at BEA, gentlemen?”
“We’re actually activists.”
“For what?”
“We’re members of an organization that is battling headless models on Romance covers.”
“What’s organization is that?”
“It’s clever, really. No Bed ‘til Head.”
“We’re really tired of the objectification of men”
Man 1: "We're twins--conjoined. I'm so used to Adam that it seem weird to me that most people don't have their twin's tiny head growing out of their shoulder."
Man 2: "I had a twin. I ate him."
"I gotta protein shake for you."
"Cut the smart ass remarks. A 'roid rage ain't cool, man."
"They'll call me first."
"Nope. You're lookin' at the lead man for the bestseller, right here. Guns-N-Buns, it fits me to a tee."
"I hate contests."
“Hey, cool shirt. I love, love, love the parody, Got Sex? who’d thunk it?”
“Thanks, Caveman. Have we met?”
“Sure, in Philosophy lab.”
“Oh! I didn’t recognize you without the horn-rimmed glasses and pocket protector.”
“I’m near-sighted.”
“You still dance at Wild Rockets?
“Yeah…who sponsors you?
Christian Mingle dot com.
“Pen and note cards?”
“This is BEA. If it’s not in print, it doesn’t get noticed.”
“That why you’re wearing your ‘GOT SEX’ tee?”
“Course. How else will the brainy chicks know what I’m looking for? Now, if anyone asks just say you model for romance covers.”
“This was your idea, remember? Bulk up. Infiltrate. Get the hell out.”
“I still don’t think I needed to wax my ass,” I hissed.
“Authenticity is key.”
“I didn’t go to Harvard to attend meatheads anonymous with a hairless ass.”
“Stop whining. We needed to blend. Now focus.”
“Sorry.”
PHOTO #1
“Seriously man? Cool. I write New Adult too. Mine’s about a personal trainer who leaves The Shore for The City, falls in love with hat design and his roommate along the way. 'Man Hat In'. Almost a memoir.”
PHOTO #2
“I intern for an erotica e-book agency. Lotta free books here, huh?”
#1. "The trip home was heartbreaking.....so much poverty and sickness. I was able to help only a few."
#2. "Yes, I realize it's difficult to give me your confession. Alas, its a curse God has given me to bear."
Photo #1
"Funny you mention the Higgs Boson particle. I studied with Dr. Crawly before finding my true passion: gardening. That tan isn't going to darken itself, you know."
Photo #2
"Describe my day? I mean, okay, but really? I work out for an hour in the morning, then it's off to badminton training--what, it's totally legit. I went national three years running!"
(and I don't know if google is watching that closely, but my captcha was "striking titldes!")
“You clogged up the toilet again.”
“So, go buy a plunger.”
“Me? you're the one with the problem,”
Scotty pushed Marco into a display of protein drinks.
“Hey! I just stacked those.”
“And you’ll stack them again, but first, go unclog the toilet.”
1. Ya I wash my clothes in Tide but don't tell anyone.
2. I write children's books but that isn't all I do.
“Say man, little help? “ Nick sat with one foot extended, his sneaker untied.
Brody touched his cross and remembered Matthew 7:12 ‘do unto others ‘, “Sure.” He kneed down and loped Nick’s laces.
Nick smiled, “You know, I couldn’t do this when I was fat either … “
White Shirt: "How does a rednecker from West Virginia get so defined?"
Grey Shirt: "Dude, its because I AM a rednecker from West Virginia."
White Shirt: "Sweet."
#1
"I saved a puppy once. I named him Gus" he stated.
"Oh, how sweet," she replied.
"Yeah. He's now my best friend."
#2
"This guy walks into the bar," throwing his arms out he continues, "and says 'Drinks on me!'"
"No way!"
"It was sweet. We partied all night."
"She says, 'Why would you buy that shirt?' There was a sale. I should spend three times the amount on a shirt because it has sleeves? That's fiscally responsible.”
"Do this with your mouth. It yields Catholic Guilt – that or she burns in Hell, in which case you're golden.”
#1: "No, I'm not on any of the covers--well, actually, I am, sort of. My name. At the bottom. S. Romper. My eroticas sell better with a gender-neutral nom de guerre."
#2: "Actually, I'm from the University of East Anglia, not Essex. We printed these that year with the sports scandal... got written up for wearing it on campus. The party I had afterwards almost got me expelled."
"Step right up ladies, or gents, and meet these two amazing Cavemen! Georgio and Taylor are dying to have their picture taken with you! Don’t be shy, come on over and be the meat in a man sandwich. Get your fantasy cover shoot right here!”
She stumbled out of the pub to find a twelve-foot-tall man.
“One Guinness too many?” she asked.
Her eyes traveled up legs, each the size of her waist, lingered at a torso, skipped the meaty face, and continued up to the twin man standing on his shoulders.
“Not enough Guinness.”
“Why don’t we hit the gym and forget about all this,” Tony wrapped his arms around him.
“I don’t want to do anything with you,” Jeremy said pushing him away. Grabbing the muscle tank-top from the floor, he quickly pulled it on. “Keep the hair-gel,” slipped from his lips.
"I hate it when the air conditioning makes my arms crinkle like this. I was hoping to wear the sweater I knitted but something went wrong."
"You need to stop dropping weights on your head. It's knit one, pearl two."
“I’m only here for the books,” said the man who wore bikini briefs the same color as his ID badge.
Turning my batting lashes towards his Rocky Balboa-ish pal, I asked, “And what about you?”
“Books? What books?” he asked.
Oh. Flirting wasted.
"Oh, man - you too?"
"Yeah. Can't even buy a shirt any more. It's "carry me home" every damn time we go out."
"Mine's got a poster of that Willoughby, and an outfit she makes me wear."
"I hear ya. Damn Austen."
"Great sex though."
"Oh, yeah."
Dave was still smiling as the woman moved further down the aisle with her camera. “It was great seeing you again, Mrs. Mendleson. Give my best to Mr. Mendleson.”
He turned back to his friend. “That’s incredible. She was my fourth grade teacher. The one who got me into reading in the first place. But, wait, I’m sorry, man, you were saying something.”
Marty’s expression still held his amused disbelief from moments earlier. “Yeah. That you’re insane to choose ninjas. It’s gotta be pirates and I’ll tell you why – they have sharks on their side. You can’t beat sharks.”
"So I say to the agent, I am INTO books, Janet.
Like, totally.
Check it—I can carry A LOT of books.
Rep me, and I'll carry yours."
"Yeah, I talked that Janet chick too.
She told me what you said.
I told her, forget the books. I'll carry YOU."
"Book Expo...Joey, what the hell? This isn't the Bodybuilding Entertainers of America exhibition." Dante turned in a slow circle, the smell of books making him nervous.
"Yeah dude, must be the wrong BEA. Hey, maybe we can meet some of the chicks who write mommy porn."
Man 1: “People don’t give me a chance, you know? They think because I’m tan, or have this haircut, that I must be some kind of jock or Jersey-shore fan or something. But I’m just Latino, and—I like this haircut!”
Man 2:“I grew up in Seattle, but bro, that doesn’t mean I’m soft. I’ve got at least two girlfriends at a given time, and they know that’s how I roll. Wait, what? This is a Book conference? I thought BEA stood for Biggest Arms. What did the ‘E’ stand for? I dunno, man, what do I look like? A rocket scientist?”
“Dude, some of these guys make me feel like a tiny pink princess,” Stanley said.
Fred socked Stanley on the shoulder. “That’s cuz you are, man.” Fred puffed out his chest, then deflated, grinning. “Noogie!” he shouted, and lunged.
"Hi. I'm Tommy. I used to wear red a lot, then I switched to white. What do you think? Red?" He pointed a muscular arm at the sliver of underwear peeking between his low hanging pants and high riding shirt. "Or white?" He used both arms with a bit of jumping pectoral to indicate the shirt.
"Hi Tommy. I'm straight."
"I'm sorry, boys, I don't have any parts for you two."
#1 "What about Jersey Shore?"
"Cancelled."
#2 "Any boxing movies?"
"None."
#1 "You'll call if they do a remake of Jersey Shore?"
"Absolutely. In the meantime, boys, put on a shirt and lay off the anabolics."
#2 "Anna who?"
“When I’m not doing this, I write free-verse poetry about the benefits of organic meat and like, steroid inspired stuff. You?”
“I have a great gig selling gym memberships. Get in their faces ands shout, ‘You know you want to look like me! You know you do!’ You feelin’ me?”
“This was a bad idea.”
“Breathe,” Dan says, entering Zack’s space. “You're spitting distance from THREE exits.”
“So many people, man.”
“Conventions pay the rent. We discussed this.”
A passing woman fondles Zack’s forearm, licking vermilion lips. Zack bolts toward an emergency door.
“Jesus, wait!” Dan yells as alarms blare.
#1: "I know Mr. Lucas said this is a costume test for Industrial Light & Magic, but I need lip gloss and all the other women keep staring."
#2: "Do you think we'll get paid in cash when this is over? I could use a mani/pedi and new panties."
Photo 1
"Fake tits? Not really for me, but hey, I'm willing to step outside my comfort zone. That's a nice camera. You're kinda cute, wanna get outta here and grab a drink?"
Photo 2
"Yes, I am the author of A THOUSAND G'S. It is possible to make a woman orgasm with G-Spot stimulation in less than ten minutes. Free demonstrations. You have a few minutes?"
"Doctor Phil?! I almost didn't recognize you without the moustache!"
"I get that a lot."
"Does Robin know you're here looking like this?"
"Have you heard of Sean Ferrell?"
#1: "So anyway, I'm strangling him and then he just pissed himself right there in front of me, and there was this horrible smell.”
#2: “That was you? I heard about that. Man you gotta go easy on that stuff, like maybe you should go see a shrink?”
Guy #1: Dude, I’m telling you. It’s Book Expo. BOOK Expo.
(pause)
Guy #2: Shut up, man. You serious, dude? Book Expo? Crap, man, I thought it said BOOB Expo. So … like, there’s no porn babes here?
Guy #1: Naw, man. Just a bunch of nerdy book chicks. But – dude - you know how they came out with those 50 Shades books and all? I’m gonna cruise the romance section. It’s like raw meat over there. With my lucky caveman shirt, I am gay-run-teed the booty.
Guy #2: (nods slowly). Alright, man. (hits knuckles with Guy #1) I’m all over dat. Boo-tay!
Pic 1: "I can't stop eating so I lift weights to burn the calories. If you see a carb in my hand, sucker punch me in the gut and give me a laxative."
Pic 2: "It's not the bodybuilding that makes a cover model, it's the Zen. You have to let the pain wash over you to transform. I meditated my way to these biceps."
He glanced at his watch again.
His buddy, Man o’Two seemed to have forgotten their mission, posing for a photograph.
“I need to get Cyndie’s favorite new book signed,” Man o’One repeated. He'd even brought her favorite pen with him- black ink, thin point.
“Stand for a picture first, man.”
#1 See when I wear the magic white shirt it makes me a tan agent.
#2 And when I wear the black one presto I'm a writer with muscles.
“Stop hyperventilating,”
“I can’t,” I say, looking myself over. I don’t know if I’ll make a strong enough impression. “That’s Don Julia, the gay porn king. He can make or break careers Joey.”
He’s silent a second. “How do I look?”
“The ‘Got Sex’ is dead on. Let’s go.”
"This is just to say --"
"Yeah?"
"--I have drunken the protein shake."
"From the icebox? I was saving that--"
"For breakfast, I know. Forgive me. It was disgusting. Too sweet. But very cold."
#1 "Whoa. Is this my cover shot for Harlequin? Man, this sock in my pants itches."
#2. "Yeah. I got sex. Like, all the time."
#1: “Why am I smiling? For the same reason you’re so pissed: I grabbed the last Dauntless clicky-pen . . .”
#2: “It was a no-brainer to swap my left thumb for psychokinetic powers. Now I can take a mean-ass selfie from over a yard away!”
“What have ya got?” He loosened his pale green and blue tie, no need for power colors.
“UCLA graduate, nurse at Riverside, skier, church goer, prefers classical to pop, pilaf to potatoes. Not impressed with my cleavage.”
“Alibi?”
I shrugged. “With his wife.” Typical child molester: male, married, employed, religious.
Dirk whispered in Rocky’s ear, “Did you get stuck in that tanning bed, Honey?”
Rocky slugged him. “I’m trying to blend in with your friends.”
“Hope they don’t find out about ‘Broadway Dancers.’” He held up a bright pink paperback.
“Put that away! No one here knows I wrote that.”
"Sup, gunshow?" said Carlos.
"Books, man," replied Nigel, scanning the room. "Books. Place is crawling with 'em. Gotta be like a million words up in here."
"Yep, I'm gettin' ready to read me some of that."
"You know some of these Poindexters done read 'em all?"
"Impossible, bruh. Im-possible."
"Hey guy, you ready for a rematch"
"nah, I need to organize my stamp collection"
"You and your stamps. Why don't you get a useful hobby like my ant farm"
"Fine clear the table I'll get the monopoly board"
"You are so going down"
"Bring it"
“How’s this?” Matt asked fashioning the best smile he could out of gritted teeth.
“Dude” Bishop grunted, puffing his muscles and perfecting his stance, “If you got it flaunt it!”
“Master’s degree,” Matt whispered to himself as the camera flashes became blinding. “Master’s degree.”
“Dude, red or white?”
“Red or white what?”
“Your tank top says, ‘Got Sox?’. You know, baseball.”
“Don’t know a damn thing about baseball, but I love the way the shirt shows off my abs and guns.”
“That’s why I’m wearing this shirt. Plus, some author paid me fifty bucks to walk around the convention center with her book title on my chest.”
"So I said to her, 'What? You haven't read Proust?' Un-friggin-believable."
"Seriously, man. Proust is fabulous, but you think these Dan-Brown-reading morons know that?"
"Why does everyone objectify me? Can't they get beyond the surface?"
"Yeah, I'm more than some boy toy. I've got feelings too."
"When do you defend your doctoral thesis on spinal cord injury regeneration?"
"Huh? Oh, right. As soon as the clinical trials arrive."
"I'll courier them to your lab."
“Hey, how’s Angie?” he whispered.
“Results Thursday. Then more tests.”
“I’m sorry, man. Let us know.”
“Excuse me, can we get a picture with you guys?” she asked.
“Sure thing, sweetheart! Get in here!”
“Oh, damn. I can actually feel their abs!”
“Cheese!” went the chorus.
“Take care, pretty ladies.”
#1. Me: You're a tricky one to place -- Italian? Greek? Middle Eastern?
Him: Or perhaps all of the above. Start out with a better question.
#2. Me: Interesting juxtaposition of the cross and the shirt.
Him: Who that what? Sorry, I had one too many beers on the boat yesterday to give a f*ck.
“Stan, stop.” Dave squeezed his shoulder.
Stan stifled a sob. “Another photo. No one even looks at my book!” He swept a hand over the untouched stack of novels.
“It’s a moving, 200,000 word saga about the lives and loves of four generations of bodybuilders. The curse of lit fic.”
Man One: I've been doing nonstop curls with this Bic pen for the last three years. Paid off, hasn't it?
Man Two: Could you help me open this pickle jar? Thanks.
"So, what are you getting for being an Ellora's Caveman here this year?"
"Same thing they offer all of us. A shot at a publishing deal. I'm just having a hard time working my picture book about Squinky the Hedgehog into an erotic romance."
"Dude, make him a gerbil."
Guy 1: “If I lose my fucking tan, I’ll lose my fucking mind and that piece of ass in 3B. She wants me. I can tell. Whenever the elevator door opens and she sees me, she jabs a button; the door closes. I squeeze in just in time.
“Must have pressed the wrong button,” she says. “I meant to press open.”
Guy 2: “The air is so grimy in the city. Gotta shower a couple times before work to feel clean. Then after work, I go to the gym and shower again. When I get home, I take another shower to get clean from the shower at the gym.”
"I hate bouncing these nerdy conferences," Joe grumbled. "There a good gym near?"
"I think so," said Mike, his eyes scanning past his friend.
"Been walking around for three days. I can feel my abs getting flab—"
"Holy crap!"
"What's up, dude?"
"I just saw Veronica Roth!"
#1. "It took a while. We found about two-hundred weapons, give or take. Assault rifles, grenades, you name it. They’re locked up in the back of my truck, wanna go check them out?"
#2. "Sweetheart, bring me that silly little hat. No, no, no, the red one. There we go."
“Three hours till I see her,” Mitch said. He kept that shit-eating grin on his face for the cameras, but Alan could tell his friend was nervous.
Alan shook his head. “Don’t know how you do it. My ex remarried, moved my little girl four states away? I’d kill somebody.”
Specimen A- "So I make sure I show an inch of colorful boxers between my belt and my tank. A, it makes the girls think about my junk, and 2, it really makes my tan pop."
Specimen B- "Work out? Nah, man, I was born this way."
"Papi, that hembra de tiburon wanted the Reacher, not the Leaker"
"Ya, she has her own. But you didn't give her our scotch anyway, did you?"
"No, Snowy, she said Julian is the Leaker and wants the Reacher"
"Everybody wants to get richer.Now where'd you hide that scotch?"
Stud #1 "Worst undercover assignment ever."
Stud #2 "Sup?"
Stud #1 "Seriously dude, you're taking this a little too far."
Stud #2 "Sup?"
Stud #1 Pulls cell phone from skinny jeans and punches speed dial #1, "Captain, I think Brian's in too deep. We need an extraction."
Stud #2 "How you doin'?"
Stud #1 "Code Red!"
1) "Hmmm, I need milk, vodka, hairspray...wait a second."
2) "Look. I lost a bet. What's your excuse bud?"
Jarreth (Dude 1): "No, it's okay for you to take a pic or whatever. I get that a lot. Now since you get a picture do I get one?"
Troy (Dude 2): "I'm just me, ya know? People are all into me cus I'm ripped and stuff. We all gotta be good at somethin' ya know?"
“The ankh makes me feel at home.” Mas traced the gold figure.
Cal’s face had frozen, rictus-happy. “You from ancient Egypt?”
“Nah, my moms raised me in a commune near Baja.”
“Explains the tan. I grew up climbing mountains.”
“Explains the shoulders.”
“Drinks after?”
“Not if you’re wearing that shirt.”
“That chick who took our picture, think she’s bein’ funny?”
“’Bout what? Broad wanted some cover art.”
“Stagin’ me with the ankh here and focusing on your cross chain. Funny, right?”
“Conflicting iconography is totally lost on her, bro. All she wanted’s a Kodak moment with these biceps.”
“Typical Manhattanite.”
"How can you guys walk on your hands through the Sahara, kayak the icy lakes of Finland, but can't show a genuine smile at the most artificial of times? Next!"
"After viewing ‘Paradine Case,’ I've stalked the ever-moving, distinguished grey hair piece hoping for a build to match. Search Over.”
"Cover-modeling is more than just a gig for me, y'know? I try every day to be my best...give people that fantasy...that happiness...I just wanna help people."
"Whatever, bro. I just wanna hump people."
"Jesus, Freddy! Are you really that shallow?"
"Hey, the Lord is my Spotter. Show some respect."
The bouncer flexed his 200-watt smile along with his biceps. "Hey, I remember you! You're that lady who helped me pick out a kitten for my girlfriend last Christmas."
His co-worker's bulk blocked my entry. "Thought your Rottie killed that fleabag. Besides, this ain't no place for grandmas."
This has got to be one of the best meat-suits I’ve found on this godforsaken planet. “Hello ladies, would you like to sign up for a chance to win a private query pitch?”
“Don’t creep them out.”
“Relax, I’ve go-”
“The only thing you’ve got is a deadline. We need three for the sacrifice.”
Leonard: “I wish they’d respect us for our minds.”
Sheldon: “I know. It’s so demeaning.”
Leonard: “Attention ladies! We have brains! We’re not slabs of meat.”
Sheldon: “I have a PhB!”
Leonard: “That’s pushing it.”
Sheldon: “They’ll buy it. Trust me.”
Leonard: “I don’t—”
Leonard: “Look, smart is in. So if you ever want to get lucky...”
#1
“It’s important to clip every week.” I watched his right bicep flex with each scissor slice. “Here, look. A dollar off.” He waved the Crest Whitening coupon under my nose like a hundred dollar bill. Then he spotted a store incentive to double it. “Oh yeah, come to papa.”
#2
“They’re still sending me the bill.” He was more livid than embarrassed. “They said it wasn’t covered under insurance.” How deep was it in there? I wondered. “Three thousand dollars,” he said. “All for a friggin Q-tip stuck in my ear.”
#1 "Dude, I am as straight as the pole your mother dances on. You are peeing on the wrong tree."
#2 "Spaghetti's straight too, until it gets hot. Trust me bro, once you go Mack, you never go back."
[My word verification: Crescents Gionnta. That is now totally the name of a character in my next noir short story.]
“Breakups suck, man. You should have called me.”
“It’s all right. I ate a cake, and I actually feel pretty good now. Chicks do it all the time, so I thought, ‘What the hell?’”
“You ate the WHOLE cake?”
“Dude. I ate it in my truck…like a man.”
“You ready for the f***ing interview portion of the competition?”
Tony looks down at his note cards.
“I am ready. I am worthy of this.”
“What the hell are you mumbling about? Let’s go man.”
“Uh, I said, um.... I said I’m ready.”
Tony looks up. He’s alone again.
Man 1=Drago
Man 2=Asher
I met Vince Drago coming off of New York's hottest summer since 1966. The heat made him drink. The drink made him talk.
He didn't own a gun. Never needed one. In Drago's experience, verbal weapons carried a lot more fire power.
"Don't f*ing come near me!" His latest brat protectee clung to a suspension cable on the Queensboro Bridge. Kid's mother hired Drago and his partner, Carmine Asher, to "keep him safe on his summer in the city."
"You won't catch me out there. That's the East River under your feet. You know how bad you'll stink after a swim in that swamp?"
"I'm wasn't planning on coming back out."
"Naw, you're right. You ain't stepping out of the East River. At least not with all your skin."
Kid's fist clenched those cables a little tighter. Where the f*@k was Asher?
Drago's earpiece crackled. "Hold your panties, I'm halfway up the tower."
"Damn bro, you reading my thoughts again?" Drago said. Kid squinted at him, but Drago waved him off.
"Dude," Asher said, "if I miss Housewives for this, I'm shipping the kid back to Niagra Falls tonight."
His partner slid out from under the bridge abutment, his powerful shoulders holding his weight just long enough for him to snap himself onto the cable that Drago had waiting for him. "Surprise, kid."
"Oh $h*! Where did you come from?"
Asher didn't answer. Just held the kid by the waist while he strapped him to his own body. He wouldn't hold still, though. For a nineteen-year-old guy to flail and kick like a little girl was something.
"Hey! Not there!" Asher slid his mark through the suspension cables and laid him flat on the bridge as he pulled his Glock from its holster and showed the boy the barrel. "Next time you put your hand on my gun, you best be ready to lose it."
I only said Drago didn't have a gun. Asher was the heavy.
"This shit is the pits."
"Amen. "Got sex" on my effing pecks? Who’d have thunk?"
“Hear ya. How's the kid?"
"Fantastic. The results hit on Thursday. Mom's not a match, but I--"
"Shit, man. Kayfabe."
"Right. YOUR BLOOD IS MINE. THIS WRESTLEMANIA, I WILL BE CHAMPION."
(Not part of submission: "Kayfabe" is pro wrestler for "resume the act, man". It's a signal for non wrestlers to resume the script because a member of the general public is present.)
"Born with both. You?"
"Aaah, chemical...accident. Me mam calls me Bodhrann. Know what that is?"
"No. What's a 'bow-run?"
"Irish drum. like a big tambourine, played upright on your knee."
"Tambourine?"
"See that's the lesson. Don't do roids. You get really big, but your jingles fall off."
#1: "Are you sure this is where the Mr. Muscle contest is being held?"
#2: "Yeah, bro, this shark lady with the camera said she was one of the judges. Just smile and play along."
#1: "She's kinda pretty doncha' think?"
#2: "Yeah, but don't make HER smile, those teeth are scary!"
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