[UA] It's been a while + a short bit of fic (or a really long rumor, if you prefer)

[Mike V.]

Well, it's been about four years since I last posted to this list.  Hi
everyone!  I banged this out on my lunch break today.  It seemed rather
UA-ish, so I figured I'd post it here.  Comments are welcome.


	Hiya, snowflake.  What's n-... Jesus christ!  Are you OK?  Do
you have to go to the hospital?  Good.  Yeah, they don't ask many
questions at the clinic.  Are you gonna be OK?  

	Oh.  Marco, huh?  That bastard's gonna kill you one of these
days.

	Sure he does, cupcake.  That's why it hurts when you breathe.
Those are cracked ribs of love.  Listen, do you have a place to crash
tonight?  Someplace where Marco isn't?  Because my buddies and I, we got
a squat down on Monroe.  Yeah?  OK, well if you think you can hold down
some soup, I'll buy you dinner and then we can head over.

	No, keep it.  I've been there too many times myself.  You're
gonna need that cash to... well, we'll talk about it later.

	You're gonna have to do something about Marco, you know that?
He's just gonna get drunker and meaner until one of these days he's
gonna hit you too hard or set you up with a john that ain't gonna stop
no matter how loud you cry and... uh huh.  He's done it before.  And
when you're gone he'll just find himself another runaway and it'll start
all over again.

	You could just leave, you know.  Scrape together bus fare and...
no, I didn't think so.  Besides, what if there's another Marco waiting
for you at the other end?

	Look, if you're not going to leave then he's gonna kill you
eventually.  Here, swallow this.  You'll feel better.

	What?  Don't even think about it.  Someone like us wouldn't
stand a chance.  I know he's gotta sleep eventually, but what if you
miss?  Besides, do you think you could really pull the trigger?  Because
Marco, he wouldn't hesitate for a second, and if you did... that's all
she wrote.

	No, no.  Forget it.  And even if you pull it off, what then?
Even juvie time is hard time.  Look, there's another way.  This may
sound crazy, but I got three words for you:  Samurai movie marathon.

	Shut up and let me explain.  Let's say that you put the word out
that you were throwing a party, and you told people that at the party
you were gonna be showing old-school samurai flicks all night long,
until the sun rises.  Like we're talking Lone Wolf and Lady Snowblood
and old Kurosawa shit here.  You'd have to get your hands on a TV and a
bunch of movies.  And then let's say that at the party you had enough
food to feed everyone who came.  All the food they wanted.  I hear sushi
is best, but really anything is fine.  Pizza even.  But no olives.  You
can't have a single olive in the place.

	How should I know?  Maybe he's allergic.

	I'm getting to that.  Anyway, you throw this party, right?  And
you gotta follow certain rules.  The olive thing.  No drugs or booze
anywhere on the premises.  Not even weed.  Cigarettes are OK, though.
No dogs or pictures of dogs anywhere, either.  The TV has got to face
the wall opposite to the door of the room you're in.  But if you have
the party and follow all the rules, and you're lucky, he'll show up.

	I don't know.  Nobody does.  He just looks like some skater kid.
Our age.  Cargos.  Messenger bag.  Hoodie.  And these crazy old-school
shades. Anyway, he'll show up sometime after midnight in front of the TV
to watch the movies.  You'll know it's him as soon as you see him.

	No, you just know.  He's just got this weird vibe. It's like...
you ever had a trick goin' at you, and you look up at their face and you
can see that they're... not there?  Like whatever planet they're on
isn't here, and whatever they're doing in their head isn't you and you
hope to god that you never find out what it is they're dreaming that you
are?  This kid's like that, but all the time.  And it's not... sexual,
y'know?  It's just creepy.

	Anyway he'll watch the movies until sunrise, and you gotta stay
up with him the whole time.  If you fall asleep or whatever, he's gone
when you wake up.  He won't say much, but maybe he'll talk about the
movies with you.  He knows a lot about them, too.  And then at sunrise,
when the movies stop, you tell him three things:  A name, like Marco.  A
place, like the shooting gallery he hangs out at on weekends.  And a
reason, like Marco's your pimp and he almost beat you to death.  And
then you pay him.

	It's OK.  He doesn't want a lot.  Just whatever you can spare.
And sometimes, if you don't have enough, he'll take stuff in trade.
Like a couple cartons of smokes or a new skateboard or something.  

	Yeah.  I guess he's not in it for the money.  He won't do just
anyone, either.  Just pimps and pushers.  I guess he's got a chip on his
shoulder or something.  Anyway, he'll ask you a few questions.  They're
always the same every time too.  Like how many fingers does Marco have?
Does he speak with an accent?  Does he own a big dog?  What was the last
book he read?  Weird shit like that.

	I don't know, and I don't care.  After you answer his questions,
he just gets up and leaves, but inside of a couple of days your Marco
problem is gone.

	No, not exactly.  They'll probably find him in a few days.  Or
most of him, anyway.  You remember that Joe Bogone thing from last Fall,
or was that before your time?  They found him sittin' headless in a
port-a-john down by the river.  And earlier that year some out-of-town
crank dealer got his guts spread all over that alley behind Johansen's.
I hear the wino that found him said that someone had pinned one end of
his intestines in place to a wall or something and it looks like he ran
for like thirty f...

	Oh.  Sorry.  Anyway, I'm not saying that you have to look this
guy up to take care of Marco or anything, but if you don't...

	What, the movies?  Yeah.  I kept a stack of them, just in case I
ever needed to use them again.  Should I start setting things up?

	Good.



- Mike V.