Speedy Story Sunday Number 1

    Ok as a disclaimer to anyone reading this who happens to be a person who loves grammar, stop now... Speedy Story sunday is not about grammar, its a little thing i have been doing for a few years now, that is all about creative gloop flowing out every orifice as fast as possible, and i thought i would start sharing with writing.com I have been an avid reader on here for years but now i will start posting things i have created.

The beer was Cold, It tasted great the effect on me was almost instant. Id been all over the city Jumping packages for people and it can tire a man out. MacGillans servers ice cold beer in large metal beer steins and the BEST baked potato soup in Cleveland. The place was a favorite of mine, and it was fairly close to my small one bedroom downtown, not that distance really matters to a Jumper anyway but it’s the principal of the thing really.  MacGillans is a Meta friendly place, It’s been 20 years since the Great Change and we are widely excepted now but some people still harbor some old resentment, be it from jealousy ( hell I can teleport, that’s something to be jealous of I can understand that) to fear. The fear I can also understand, there’s some people out there who can do some very scary things. Once met a 12 year old girl who was a class 7 Pyro, luckily when the Change took her she was playing Left field for her local softball team, burnt so hot it turned the sand in the diamond to glass. I can understand the prejudice. It just makes finding a decent place to eat hard sometimes.  Jorty, the wife of the owner, walked over carrying a new beer stein and a pippin hot bowl of the heavenl. “How’s it going Vic” she asked reaching into her apron pulling out a spoon and napkin. I gave her a polite nod and a “same old same old” and dug into the thick gooey goodness. Science still can’t explain why for some reason on July 20th 1993 a quarter of the population just woke up different. It was a rough couple of years there, lots of people died and the country was in turmoil but that’s over. One thing the scientist do agree on is how the Meta gene works. Whatever your power is it takes energy to fuel it, in this case Food. It’s just like any other muscle you exercise it and it gets better. I have to eat a Lot to be able to do what I do every day, and the meals have to be heavy in carbs and calories. Even with the 4500 calorie intake that I have as a normal I still look malnourished and skinny. I’m not what you would call handsome my face is kind of sunken in, my arms and legs just look a little to long for my body height of 6’2 and I’m very thin, like I said malnourished. I keep my short blondish brown hair cut buzz chop short. I picked up the half loaf of potato bread and dunked it in the soup. It was Glorious. Usually I’d like to think of myself as alert, but here I could let my guard down once in a while which is why when the large dinner plate sized hand grabbed me by the shoulder and whipped me around in the swivel stool It didn’t even register what was happening till I was already three bar stools down the small tingling feeling from jumping rushing over my body.  It took a second to comprehend what happened. It hadn’t Blinked in a while (jumping via reflex) but I’m glad I had, the man… err…mountain that had attempted to hit me punched the counter top and spilled my soup all down the bar. He looked just as surprised as I was and a little bit drunk. He grabbed my fresh beer stein and started drinking it slamming it down babbling something incoherent about it being his beer and what not. Physically you can’t tell most Metas apart. Some you can, like me being as skinny as I am is a very common trait of a jumper, though a lot of pyros are red heads you don’t have to be a ginger to be part of that crowd. Being a walking skyscraper is usually a good indicator of someone being a Philistine though that’s the polite term to use, most people just call them Brutes or thugs.  He looked around from me and then locked gazes with me sneering more drunken slurs. By this time the whole place was silent people were pushing their way to get away from us as quickly as possible and someone must have unplugged the juke box. This was a meta friendly place but lots of norms ate and drank here to, but when two metas threw down it could get hectic more so when one of them was a Thug. A shot gun makes a very distinct sound and even if you have never held a gun before you know it. That’s why when the movie hero busts threw the door he racks the slide for that SHICK-SHLLACKKK noise to open up for his heroic banter. All the bad guys stop what they’re doing and turn to the noise because they know what’s coming, it means that something awful is about to happen to the person on the other end of that metal tube of doom. So when that same heart stopping sound broke the silence even the brute turned to Jorty cradling the sawed off pump with fear in his eyes. She looked between us “OUT both of YOU NOW!” she shouted. The Brute contemplated it, I could see the gears grinding in his head. They weren’t immortal, there are very few Phoenix in the world but a thug could heal very quickly and take a beating like no other. They also were about 3 times as strong as a normal human. He broke his gaze from the pump gun and headed towards the door. I felt smug seeing him leave but when she angled it on me my eyes went wide “ You to Vic, I can’t have any fighting in here go home and get some rest” I could see the brute almost to the door people moving out of his way as fast as they could. My heart sank “Jor….” She wasn’t having any of it “I said out… and I mean it, don’t make me call them” she said it like a curse. I nodded and took out my wallet slapping two twenty’s down and then Jumping to the street out front. The man-mountain hadn’t made it to the door yet and I was across the street watching it. I’m not a petty person, I’m usually a pretty good guy but damnit I was Hungry, and I just got kicked out of my favorite place, I was feeling a little salty the few beers I had might have had something to do with it as well. Soon as he was out of the pub I reeled back for one hell of a haymaker than jumped right in front of him punching with everything I got. Which was the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done next to that time I accidently... you know what that’s a different story well talk about that latter. My fist connected to his jaw … it didn’t even budge, it felt like punching a wall and I pulled it away almost screaming. I blinked again dodging his balled up basketball of a fist. I was ten feet away in the middle of the street cursing up a storm holding my Hand. I’m pretty sure I hurt myself a lot more than I hurt him, which was evident from the way he was laughing at me with big bellow laughs. I think he might have said something about me being of the feminism persuasion and hitting like said persuasion. That pissed me off… this whole situation pissed me off, I was hungry, I was tired, my hand hurt like a mother fucker, I just got kicked out of my bar, MY BAR the place I go to  not have to deal with the shit of the day, shit like this stupid guy with his stupid laugh. I jumped back into the Bar. Jorty was there cleaning the counter and when I appeared she startled a bit and became even angrier “DAMNIT VIC I Mean…” I cut her off throwing down a business card “ can’t talk, thanks for the soup, bill me for the stool” I grabbed the hunk of potato bread that was still drenched in soup, though cold soup ( this helped towards the me being pissed off part) and jumped back swinging with all my might. The Bar stool took him in the face and he toppled back. I swung it again and again three more times till it broke in little splinters and tossed it away. He looked up at me blood running down from his lip and hatred in his eyes “LAUGH AT THAT” I shouted and kicked him in the shin.  I didn’t see the sledge hammer of a fist till it was in my gut and it hurt. It hurt like I’ve not been hurt in a long time. I can only blink if I see it coming, it’s kind of a subconscious thing, get out of danger before you die thing. Though if I don’t know that there is danger... I did blink after he hit me though. I landed in my part. On my sofa the old worn leather Double cushion slamming into the wall. It hurt a lot.  I sucked in a breath, wasn’t sure if he broke a rib or not, but DMANIT that hurt. I jumped to hallway closet and rifled through finding what I was looking for I jumped back, onto the roof of MacGillans. I scanned the street, he was still there looking around, good, I jumped down bringing the 34” maple Louisville slugger down on his head with everything I had, there was a sound like thunder and but I jumped away and then back to behind him taking him in the back of the legs. I did this for a few moments, Jump, smack, Jump smack, run away from the giant scary crushing hands, jump smack again. Till I broke my bat that is. He landed another punch to my right shoulder which sent me spinning, this time I blinked away to my bed falling in the soft embrace of down comforter. I could stay there... I made my point, I could just have just lied there and went to sleep, deal with Jorty tomorrow for the stool and peel off my boots, Instead I jumped to the kitchen grabbing the cast iron skillet and came back swinging with everything I have. The Pan took him in the chest, than the lower back. I didn’t seen his leg sweep out and swipe my legs out from under me till I was on my back, He delivered a hammer blow to what would have been my head but I Blinked Twenty feet away before it could crush me. Using everything I had I did a golf club like swing jumping to right next to him and clocked him in the face holding it with both hands. The Thug pitched over and laid there staring up at the sky with a goofy blood soaked grin on his face, he then began to laugh. That creped me out… I just beat him with what would have killed 5 men over and he giggled like a school girl after her first kiss. I hate Thugs. I jumped to his side raising the skillet to above my head about the strike “HAD enough!” I shouted. He laughed some more but nodded his head yes. He then offered up his hand for a shake “Roland…… nice to meet you, haven’t had a decent brawl in a good while” I took it my hand feeling very tiny in his. That’s how I met my best friend.

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