[UA] The PCs

[David M Jacobs]

At 12:32 PM 31/08/2003 -0500, thanatos at interaccess.com wrote:

>For this reason, I'd shy away from the workplace connection, because, 
>while very effective in bringing a group of characters together, it's a 
>little overdone.

Perhaps they have some other link, one that draws in people from diverse 
backgrounds.  Perhaps they're all part of the same drug rehab programme 
(though it's a little overdone, too), or perhaps they're involved in local 
politics, but all in the same party.  Although most local politicos are 
lawyers, real estate agents or uni students, there are still a fair number 
of people who are drawn in various other fields.  (You'd probably be 
surprised by the number of undertakers that I've met through politics, 
forex.  I dunno what it is about them... death and taxes, maybe?)

The former stuntman has joined to help out a childhood friend, now a school 
teacher, who's running for something in the near future.  The religious 
fanatic is running against the stuntman's friend.  The tomboy is a member 
because her family have been members for as long as anyone remembers; she 
hates it, but she signed up just to keep her parents off her back.  She's 
in the teacher's class at school, but sits up the back and doesn't really 
interact with him.

At the preselection, when the fanatic comes in to give her speech, the 
stuntman's friend bursts in, eyes rolled into the back of his head, 
screaming "Ram it in me!  Harder!  HARDER!"  He starts foaming at the mouth 
and thrashes around the floor, trying to gouge his own eyes out.  And then 
he turns on the preselectors, picking up chairs and attacking random 
people, all the time shouting, "Make me come!  Give it to me!  Give it to 
me!  Yes!  YES!  Say my name!  HARDER!  Oh, God, YEEEESSSS!"

And then he beats his brains out against the lectern.  All through this, 
the tomboy has her strongest ever sense of deja vu (followed by about 36 
hours of jamais vu), the fanatic goes apeshit and has a vision, and the 
stuntman might get to test his invulnerability dealing with the frenzied 
crowd and his lifelong friend who's just lost it in front of a roomful of 
people.

When they go through the things that the stuntman's friend brought to the 
preselection, they find a 10-page document; the cover sheet says, simply, 
"PRESELECTION SPEECH", but, inside, they find 10 pages of 
almost-unintelligible scrawl about porn.

Examination of the body shows that not only is there a poorly-healed vagina 
cut into the dead man's perineum, but every square inch of body not covered 
by his clothes has the tomboy's name written on it in brown marker pen -- 
even spots that wouldn't be humanly possible to reach.

The late candidate was obsessed with the WECHBY, and, at the worst possible 
time, spontaneously channelled her and flipped out.  His house is filled 
with WECHBY tapes, and the place stinks to high heaven.  There's a naked 
female corpse in the bathtub, wearing a strap-on, with the word "CIXCIXCIX" 
(an anagram of "333" in Roman numerals) carved into her torso; she looks 
_exactly_ like the religious fanatic.

So, the stuntman would want to find out what happened to his friend, the 
fanatic to investigate the woman in the tub, and the tomboy to find out why 
she had deja vu during the channelling and why the teacher she's never 
really spoken to had her name written across his body.  And then they have 
to deal with the carnal that hangs around the house...



David M Jacobs
dmjacobs at zipworld.com.au
http://www.zipworld.com.au/~dmjacobs/
ICQ UIN: 17027598

Last night, I dreamt that I'd pinned Bruce Willis beneath an unpainted 
section of picket fence in his front yard, and that I beat him to death 
with a copy of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.  I awoke with blood on my 
face.  Note to self: never eat penne before bedtime again.



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