At Denny's, alone. Some vagrant walks in and starts eating food off a table that someone left behind. There are gasps and whispers from the other patrons, but I don't even flinch. I've seen my best friend do this all the time. I've eaten leftover food off the floor. People think they know you but they don't. They've never known my hunger. They've never known my emptiness. My life is holes. My body has them, my mind has them, my soul has them. The backyard has them. They are they because I dug them there. Out of one hole and into the next.
I start heading for the beach and keep to myself on the sidewalks. People pass by and I can't believe they are serious. Dressed up and going nowhere. Noses up high but smelling nothing. Down on the ground is where the action is. I see some lady walking her poodle. Neither one of them even look in my direction. Of course.
Just then a van pulls out in a cloud of exhaust. The lady gets knocked to the ground and the poodle gets abducted. A fucking dognapping! I give chase but the vehicle leaves me in it's smoky dust. I'm really, really, pissed off.
I bound down to the beach where the gang is hanging out, as usual. After explaining what I saw, everyone else is as angry as I am. We are all animal lovers, probably Shaggy most of all. So to hear about this cruelty to animals gets everyone amped up for this case. Mystery be damned, we want revenge.
Our investigation lands us in the office of Buck Masters, whose dog was one of many to be snatched. You'd think he'd be worried about the well-being of his pet, but instead is whining about how Bob Miller's great dane will probably win the upcoming dog show. What an asshole. He tries to discourage us, but who else is there? Cops? We jet and make plans.
Anger opens up our acceptance to risk. The dognappers are coming, and I will be the great dane decoy. Give me a new collar with a tracker. Give me a bath. Fuck everything, let them come. Shaggy walks with me out on the boulevard. People stare, they yell. They throw trash. That's why I don't like anyone. That's why I eat your letters. Besides my gang, I have no one. My two allies are SCOOBY SNACKS and INSANITY.
On cue the van pulls up and grabs me. They are lucky I don't bite. Next thing I know I'm busting out of a crate in a Bad Guy Lair. Lots of other dogs in cages. My disguise as the dog show great dane decoy lasts about five seconds. They literally send me out of town on a rail. On a railway cart heading towards an on coming train. Shaggy saves me once again by putting his life on the line. Fred saves me with some quick thinking and hitting the switch to get us off the track. A real live train dodge.
The rest of the adventure went okay. A ghost shot an arrow at us. A witch doctor yelled at us. An ancient Aztec Indian threatened us with ancient magical spells, which didn't sound so ancient or scary when spoken in perfect English. We follow the trail to a village carved into the side of a mountain. It's dark and everyone is faceless. Bats flew all over us, knocking off Velma's glasses. Her vision was all fucked up, but she helped solve the mystery anyway. She's tough. I don't like her very much, but I respect her.
Fred finds a secret passage. Daphne finds another secret passage on accident. I find yet another secret passage because some jerk pushed me into it. May I please have some regular Bad Guy Lair with my secret passages, sir? For fuck's sake. Shaggy finds a sandwich. We end up freeing the dogs in cages and giving chase to the witch doctor. You ever have a dog chase you? You ever have a pack or angry dogs chase you? You don't win that race.
Turns out the witch doctor was Buck Masters himself. He kidnapped his own dog to mask the other dognappings, and then planned on zipping over to the dog show at the last minute to win it. He's the worst. He tells us we should have minded our own business. Outing assholes and rescuing dogs IS our business.
So I come home to the doghouse and write. I write to cover my tracks. I have to write twice as much as people because I make twice as many tracks. I'm writing an arfenal. I'm writing a coat of fur. I'm writing to get that scratch behind the ears that I crave. I can't sleep now. Dogs have dreams too, and not all of them are good.
Monday, June 25, 2018
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
10.04.69 (con't)
Anyone who's ever toured knows about getting lost. Numbskull stoner navigating? Satellite tracking? Doesn't matter. It happens to everyone once. It happened to us on a stormy night. We only had the numbskull, of course. We end up in Gold City and crashing with these dudes Big Ben and Hank.
Outsiders don't understand us. Small talk is bullshit. They prattle on while I steal a piece of cheese from a mouse trap.
This old west-style tourist attraction became a real-life ghost town when some goon called Miner '49 started scaring everyone away. Spooky stories and howling are enough to frighten most people, but we aren't most people. That night Velma taught me something I will never forget. We were hanging out in the parking lot and I was complaining about the lack of people here. She totally laid into me. One rolled up newspaper over the head and I worked my ass off the rest of the night.
We don't have anything to do other than sit around, so Fred leads us in an exploration expedition. I stumbled upon a map of the ghost town, not really sure where it leads or what it marks. There's a safe combination in the corner of it, and there was a huge safe at Big Ben's place, so we decide to follow where the clues take us.
Inside the safe was a secret elevator. I didn't want to go anywhere near that rickety old thing, but the temptation of Scooby Snacks was too much. All I see is run-down places, masks, and food. It's getting to the point where whenever I hear a ghost moaning, I start to salivate. Now that's damage.
The elevator takes us down into an old mine shaft. We continue to look for clues while Shaggy fools around with dynamite. The Miner shows up in various places - a fake mirror, a closet, amongst the mine tracks. Scaring the shit out of us and never leaving us alone. Getting in my face as much as he wants. People seem to think that since you bought a ticket to their haunted house, they own you.
After Shaggy and I get fucked up in a mine cart chase, we find oil. Not gold or whatever you would expect.
Fred hatches a plan to trap the Miner. I put a headlight on a mine cart while Shaggy makes train noises. The Miner was terrified of our little trick, and ran himself right into a trap. After some de-masking and de-stilting, we find out the Miner was really Hank (one of two guys that were in the town). Huh. He wanted the whole place to fail, go bankrupt, and then be sold on the cheap, so he could rake in the profits of owning an oil property.
There might have been more details, but I was too busy stealing apples to listen in. All these other people talking and I couldn't relate. I feel at ease with alienation. I have allies - HUNGER and INSTINCT. With these by my side, everything else can fade away.
Outsiders don't understand us. Small talk is bullshit. They prattle on while I steal a piece of cheese from a mouse trap.
This old west-style tourist attraction became a real-life ghost town when some goon called Miner '49 started scaring everyone away. Spooky stories and howling are enough to frighten most people, but we aren't most people. That night Velma taught me something I will never forget. We were hanging out in the parking lot and I was complaining about the lack of people here. She totally laid into me. One rolled up newspaper over the head and I worked my ass off the rest of the night.
We don't have anything to do other than sit around, so Fred leads us in an exploration expedition. I stumbled upon a map of the ghost town, not really sure where it leads or what it marks. There's a safe combination in the corner of it, and there was a huge safe at Big Ben's place, so we decide to follow where the clues take us.
Inside the safe was a secret elevator. I didn't want to go anywhere near that rickety old thing, but the temptation of Scooby Snacks was too much. All I see is run-down places, masks, and food. It's getting to the point where whenever I hear a ghost moaning, I start to salivate. Now that's damage.
The elevator takes us down into an old mine shaft. We continue to look for clues while Shaggy fools around with dynamite. The Miner shows up in various places - a fake mirror, a closet, amongst the mine tracks. Scaring the shit out of us and never leaving us alone. Getting in my face as much as he wants. People seem to think that since you bought a ticket to their haunted house, they own you.
After Shaggy and I get fucked up in a mine cart chase, we find oil. Not gold or whatever you would expect.
Fred hatches a plan to trap the Miner. I put a headlight on a mine cart while Shaggy makes train noises. The Miner was terrified of our little trick, and ran himself right into a trap. After some de-masking and de-stilting, we find out the Miner was really Hank (one of two guys that were in the town). Huh. He wanted the whole place to fail, go bankrupt, and then be sold on the cheap, so he could rake in the profits of owning an oil property.
There might have been more details, but I was too busy stealing apples to listen in. All these other people talking and I couldn't relate. I feel at ease with alienation. I have allies - HUNGER and INSTINCT. With these by my side, everything else can fade away.
Monday, March 20, 2017
10.04.69
At Denny's alone. I always seem to end up here. Same booth, same cheap food.
Last night's mystery was good. We unmasked some asshole and he kept giving us shit so I broke his nose. He could have sat there silently seething. He could have asked for a lawyer. He had plenty of chances to back off but he didn't so I dealt on him. We ARE blasted kids. We carpool to solve crimes, but we're still rotten. We don't make any money on this. We do this because it's all we know.
Chasing ghosts is my life.
I watch a lot of people go by. They walk through this world but experience nothing. There's so much to feel, so much to sniff. I don't want to drink from their bowl. I don't want to catch their worms. We're being buried alive. There's already a hole in the ground. I don't want to be in it. Just my bone.
We're heading out tomorrow in the van. I get my grub from a crummy diner, and I sleep in the backyard. But we save money for gas and that gets us moving. We need to keep moving, or we will die.
Last night's mystery was good. We unmasked some asshole and he kept giving us shit so I broke his nose. He could have sat there silently seething. He could have asked for a lawyer. He had plenty of chances to back off but he didn't so I dealt on him. We ARE blasted kids. We carpool to solve crimes, but we're still rotten. We don't make any money on this. We do this because it's all we know.
Chasing ghosts is my life.
I watch a lot of people go by. They walk through this world but experience nothing. There's so much to feel, so much to sniff. I don't want to drink from their bowl. I don't want to catch their worms. We're being buried alive. There's already a hole in the ground. I don't want to be in it. Just my bone.
We're heading out tomorrow in the van. I get my grub from a crummy diner, and I sleep in the backyard. But we save money for gas and that gets us moving. We need to keep moving, or we will die.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
09.27.69
Daphne and so by default, Fred, decide we should all go out fishing for the day. Inclement weather and fog won't stop us. We live in a coastal town in California, so we're on the water a lot. I see crud on this boat and I remember exactly what bay we picked it up in, a month before.
Below deck Shaggy is eating sardines, marshmallows, fudge, and olives in a sandwich. Dude does not care. When you wear the same clothes every day and don't know if or when your next meal is coming, you'd chomp on it too.
The ocean lies. The waves lie. Everything lies. You can try to read it, but you're gonna get it wrong. Especially in the fog. The sunset is burning through the clouds and trying to melt our bodies. Rocks sink their teeth into the flesh of the hull, jarring us out of our haze. We wind up on Haunted Isle. Some pirates used to crash here, and they even had their own fortress called Vasquez Castle. But why call the piece of land the Haunted Isle? That's being either really insane, or just asking for trouble.
I know I'm part of this group. I know I'm man's best friend, or at least that is what they say. But I'm an alien dog. I don't understand anyone's anything. Nothing they say makes any sense to me. Their problems are not mine. They are talking, salvaging what they can on the boat, making their way to the castle. What I am doing? I'm smelling. That's what I do. Everyone else looks and talks. I smell, and listen. I smell water, dirt, paper, Shaggy and everyone else and everything they ate, fish, rocks, ink, trash, mud, shells...
I follow certain scents until i pick out what doesn't belong. My nose centimeters from the ground, not paying attention to anything else. I might as well be on another planet. I come across a paper and give the signal to the gang. Not only does the paper look like a treasure map, it looks like a warning message for people to stay away. That never works with us. The whole island, castle included, looks deserted so we decide to take a look around. One adventure leads into the next. Daphne's boating trip has been forgotten.
We walked into the deserted castle, filled with old junk, pirate portraits, and cobwebs. I whistled aloud to break up the spookiness, but my fucked up vocal chords made it sound strained and creepy. Not too long after, Daphne falls into a trap door. We hear a terrible cackling echoing around the castle walls. After a while you learn to get out fast.
After a scurry down the hall, Shaggy and I run into Daphne. Or rather, she bashed his head in with a vase. You come out here with a lot of anything - sandwiches, clues, emotional bullshit - whatever - you're only going to get it ripped off your body and you will feel the pain.
A ghost appears and it's laugh becomes more annoying than scary. Me and guys give chase, and to our credit, make some textbook tackling moves on him, but we all sail right through the phantom body.
Clues pile up and we end up in the catacombs. I don't want any part of this until the gang throws Scooby snacks in my face. At some point you say fuck everything. Search and destroy. I was ready for anything, but instead just find a bunch of magician's props. Then all hell breaks loose. Velma ends up running in and out magic boxes, Shaggy ends up getting sawed in half, and Fred, Daphne, and I end up on a magic carpet ride.
Fred's had enough, and comes up with yet another elaborate trap. But we can't set it off until I find the phantom. Of course it's down to me. Surrounded by people all the time, and yet all alone when it matters the most. I waltz around until I catch the attention of the phantom in some random hallway that looks like every other random hallway in this place. After a whirlwind of crazy (and painful) contraptions, I end up on top of the ghost.
Turns out all the weird shit that was happening was just magic tricks and the villain was a magician. I could have told everyone that from the get-go, and I scratch my balls with my tongue. This adventure sucked. But the outcome was that the bad guy got jail time, and we got off the island. We win.
Below deck Shaggy is eating sardines, marshmallows, fudge, and olives in a sandwich. Dude does not care. When you wear the same clothes every day and don't know if or when your next meal is coming, you'd chomp on it too.
The ocean lies. The waves lie. Everything lies. You can try to read it, but you're gonna get it wrong. Especially in the fog. The sunset is burning through the clouds and trying to melt our bodies. Rocks sink their teeth into the flesh of the hull, jarring us out of our haze. We wind up on Haunted Isle. Some pirates used to crash here, and they even had their own fortress called Vasquez Castle. But why call the piece of land the Haunted Isle? That's being either really insane, or just asking for trouble.
I know I'm part of this group. I know I'm man's best friend, or at least that is what they say. But I'm an alien dog. I don't understand anyone's anything. Nothing they say makes any sense to me. Their problems are not mine. They are talking, salvaging what they can on the boat, making their way to the castle. What I am doing? I'm smelling. That's what I do. Everyone else looks and talks. I smell, and listen. I smell water, dirt, paper, Shaggy and everyone else and everything they ate, fish, rocks, ink, trash, mud, shells...
I follow certain scents until i pick out what doesn't belong. My nose centimeters from the ground, not paying attention to anything else. I might as well be on another planet. I come across a paper and give the signal to the gang. Not only does the paper look like a treasure map, it looks like a warning message for people to stay away. That never works with us. The whole island, castle included, looks deserted so we decide to take a look around. One adventure leads into the next. Daphne's boating trip has been forgotten.
We walked into the deserted castle, filled with old junk, pirate portraits, and cobwebs. I whistled aloud to break up the spookiness, but my fucked up vocal chords made it sound strained and creepy. Not too long after, Daphne falls into a trap door. We hear a terrible cackling echoing around the castle walls. After a while you learn to get out fast.
After a scurry down the hall, Shaggy and I run into Daphne. Or rather, she bashed his head in with a vase. You come out here with a lot of anything - sandwiches, clues, emotional bullshit - whatever - you're only going to get it ripped off your body and you will feel the pain.
A ghost appears and it's laugh becomes more annoying than scary. Me and guys give chase, and to our credit, make some textbook tackling moves on him, but we all sail right through the phantom body.
Clues pile up and we end up in the catacombs. I don't want any part of this until the gang throws Scooby snacks in my face. At some point you say fuck everything. Search and destroy. I was ready for anything, but instead just find a bunch of magician's props. Then all hell breaks loose. Velma ends up running in and out magic boxes, Shaggy ends up getting sawed in half, and Fred, Daphne, and I end up on a magic carpet ride.
Fred's had enough, and comes up with yet another elaborate trap. But we can't set it off until I find the phantom. Of course it's down to me. Surrounded by people all the time, and yet all alone when it matters the most. I waltz around until I catch the attention of the phantom in some random hallway that looks like every other random hallway in this place. After a whirlwind of crazy (and painful) contraptions, I end up on top of the ghost.
Turns out all the weird shit that was happening was just magic tricks and the villain was a magician. I could have told everyone that from the get-go, and I scratch my balls with my tongue. This adventure sucked. But the outcome was that the bad guy got jail time, and we got off the island. We win.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
09.26.69
Spending time at home is so different than being on a case. I've always lived a solitary existence, trapped in my own mind, but when working on a mystery I'm too busy sniffing out clues and running from monsters to notice.
It's me against the world, with no one else on my wavelength, except for my few friends, and even then I feel cut off from them depending on the placement of trap doors and secret rooms. Isolation can be devastating. Once in a while I jump into Shaggy's arms just to convince myself I'm not alone in this world.
Being at home though, there's no interference. Alone with my thoughts. My hunger. I go from screaming and being screamed at for days on end, to complete silence. It's pretty jarring.
When I say home, I really mean Fred's parent's house. They are never home for some reason and the gang crashes there all the time. No where else to be. There isn't enough room inside the house for everyone, so I have a small place in the backyard. Only about twice the size of my body, but there's a roof over my head and a floor to sleep on. I like being out there, usually. With the rest of the backyard critters and a moon hanging out above. Sometimes I think about how that very same moon is also looming over some spooky castle somewhere, scaring the fuck out of someone.
This is a break from the chaos, and yet I get no respite since my brain is still on "search and destroy" mode. I quietly contemplate the adventures that haunt me to this day. And the ones I know I'll face in the future.
Daphne has a boating trip planned.
It's me against the world, with no one else on my wavelength, except for my few friends, and even then I feel cut off from them depending on the placement of trap doors and secret rooms. Isolation can be devastating. Once in a while I jump into Shaggy's arms just to convince myself I'm not alone in this world.
Being at home though, there's no interference. Alone with my thoughts. My hunger. I go from screaming and being screamed at for days on end, to complete silence. It's pretty jarring.
When I say home, I really mean Fred's parent's house. They are never home for some reason and the gang crashes there all the time. No where else to be. There isn't enough room inside the house for everyone, so I have a small place in the backyard. Only about twice the size of my body, but there's a roof over my head and a floor to sleep on. I like being out there, usually. With the rest of the backyard critters and a moon hanging out above. Sometimes I think about how that very same moon is also looming over some spooky castle somewhere, scaring the fuck out of someone.
This is a break from the chaos, and yet I get no respite since my brain is still on "search and destroy" mode. I quietly contemplate the adventures that haunt me to this day. And the ones I know I'll face in the future.
Daphne has a boating trip planned.
Friday, March 11, 2016
09.25.69
Shaggy and I are on fuck everybody mode. Every time we go downtown we get fucked with by assholes. Solve a few thefts and kidnappings and everyone wants to be your friend. As soon as you get your name in the paper, they start calling you out, trying take you down. These stupid papers that I used to throw at people's doors. They should all just get chewed.
At the club we convinced the DJ to play The Mamas & The Papas. Some people in the audience groaned and the DJ got on the mic to apologize. Figures the piece of shit has bad taste in music. But it saved us from having to listen to some weak punk bullshit.
So Shaggy and I are hanging out, waiting for Daphne and Velma to show up. No clue where Fred is. The brother of our former boss showed up, he's just as much a scumbag. Shaggy looks at him and asks me out loud if this is the guy I wanted to bite.
"RES."
Shaggy gets glassy-eyed and starts chanting "Bite him now. Bite him now." This dude starts quivering and blubbering about how he always liked us and that he tried to convince his brother not to fuck with Shaggy's bike. What an ass.
Everywhere I go I see worthless people. People who don't care, people who don't give you an inch unless they need something from you. People who go out of their way just to bum you out. They lie, they cheat, they steal. They're all fakes. I want to rip off their masks, and then rip off their heads. These people should just get hit by cars that I'm chasing.
At the club we convinced the DJ to play The Mamas & The Papas. Some people in the audience groaned and the DJ got on the mic to apologize. Figures the piece of shit has bad taste in music. But it saved us from having to listen to some weak punk bullshit.
So Shaggy and I are hanging out, waiting for Daphne and Velma to show up. No clue where Fred is. The brother of our former boss showed up, he's just as much a scumbag. Shaggy looks at him and asks me out loud if this is the guy I wanted to bite.
"RES."
Shaggy gets glassy-eyed and starts chanting "Bite him now. Bite him now." This dude starts quivering and blubbering about how he always liked us and that he tried to convince his brother not to fuck with Shaggy's bike. What an ass.
Everywhere I go I see worthless people. People who don't care, people who don't give you an inch unless they need something from you. People who go out of their way just to bum you out. They lie, they cheat, they steal. They're all fakes. I want to rip off their masks, and then rip off their heads. These people should just get hit by cars that I'm chasing.
Friday, February 19, 2016
09.24.69
We were pulling into town and we smelled smoke. Shaggy remarked that it wasn't the good kind. The bottom of the van was on fire. We all got out to a safe distance while we watched it burn. Fred got under the van with a towel to try to put the fire out. He yelled for help but I just stood there. Daphne ran across the street to a gas station to get a fire extinguisher. Fred's arms had burning oil on them. He could have been killed but he saved the Mystery Machine. I just stood there.
Fred is hardcore. It doesn't matter what gets in our way, or who puts us down, or tries to scare us, Fred will stand his ground. The more garbage that gets thrown his way the more unrelenting he is. His power comes from external forces.
I go into a dark place. I have to psyche myself up. The more people ask of me, the more I just want them to die off.
Fred is hardcore. It doesn't matter what gets in our way, or who puts us down, or tries to scare us, Fred will stand his ground. The more garbage that gets thrown his way the more unrelenting he is. His power comes from external forces.
I go into a dark place. I have to psyche myself up. The more people ask of me, the more I just want them to die off.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)