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Outnumbered: An Empty Room Studios, Valentine's Day Special
I think I mentioned awhile ago that I did a number of short pieces, alongside Andrew Schneider, for the Empty Room Studios Art Book. These pieces are now filtering about the web, from the Digital Webbing forums to EnWorld to DrunkDuck as the artists tackle each description and make it their own. It's great fun watching it happen over on the ERS forums, and I'm enjoying the fact that my part in the process is completed and the pieces are finding life in other hands.
Since it is Valentine's Day, I thought I'd post one of the shorts I wrote. It's a superhero piece titled "Outnumbered":
Valentine's Day is never a good day in Chicago, not since the twenties. And some crooks seem to take it upon themselves to make each V-Day a little bit worse than the last. Seems like there's a challenge to beat the previous record for violence and mayhem. In Detroit, the freaks all come out for Halloween--Devil's Night, they call it. Us? We've got Valentine's Day. Ironic.
The cops are spread thin as it is--the good ones, anyway, and the bad ones are useless--so I always end up on the top of a building somewhere in the Loop, trying to dodge bullets and fists. Occasionally one gets through. Two years ago it was the Sears Tower. Last year it was on North Michigan over at the Hancock. This year, I'm on Aon Center, where my day job is. On the upside, if I mess things up, I won't have to go in tomorrow. On the down side, if I mess up too much, I won't be going in again, ever.
If I had known this year that Electrode was involved, I might have called in the big leagues. New York has more heroes than you can shake a stick at, and, as you may have guessed from the above, February is a slow month in Detroit. I've been known to hop over there in October to help out, so it'd only be fair. But knowing me, I'd have been a fool and ended up in this situation anyway. Yeah, that's me. Gatlin Gun ammo stinging like bees and electrified mobsters swinging lightning rods on all sides. I can smell atmo burning all around me, smell the hair on my arms burning, and feel the rest of my flesh rising in goosebumps. Not that I'm paying close attention to those details. I'm a little more concerned about not falling the thousand feet down onto Randolph.
And Electrode's maniacal laughter? Not exactly inspiration for keeping grounded, if you'll forgive the pun. Frankly, I'm beginning to wish I could fly.
Since it is Valentine's Day, I thought I'd post one of the shorts I wrote. It's a superhero piece titled "Outnumbered":
Valentine's Day is never a good day in Chicago, not since the twenties. And some crooks seem to take it upon themselves to make each V-Day a little bit worse than the last. Seems like there's a challenge to beat the previous record for violence and mayhem. In Detroit, the freaks all come out for Halloween--Devil's Night, they call it. Us? We've got Valentine's Day. Ironic.
The cops are spread thin as it is--the good ones, anyway, and the bad ones are useless--so I always end up on the top of a building somewhere in the Loop, trying to dodge bullets and fists. Occasionally one gets through. Two years ago it was the Sears Tower. Last year it was on North Michigan over at the Hancock. This year, I'm on Aon Center, where my day job is. On the upside, if I mess things up, I won't have to go in tomorrow. On the down side, if I mess up too much, I won't be going in again, ever.
If I had known this year that Electrode was involved, I might have called in the big leagues. New York has more heroes than you can shake a stick at, and, as you may have guessed from the above, February is a slow month in Detroit. I've been known to hop over there in October to help out, so it'd only be fair. But knowing me, I'd have been a fool and ended up in this situation anyway. Yeah, that's me. Gatlin Gun ammo stinging like bees and electrified mobsters swinging lightning rods on all sides. I can smell atmo burning all around me, smell the hair on my arms burning, and feel the rest of my flesh rising in goosebumps. Not that I'm paying close attention to those details. I'm a little more concerned about not falling the thousand feet down onto Randolph.
And Electrode's maniacal laughter? Not exactly inspiration for keeping grounded, if you'll forgive the pun. Frankly, I'm beginning to wish I could fly.