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Ryan.

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Chapter 1

 

 

 

Could it only be seven days ago?

 

One week is all it took for lives to be turned upside down, flipped inside out, their warm centers flowing into the gutter like rain.

 

Seven days ago I walked into that dank, dingy office on the corner of 5th and Catastrophe. The soft blue wallpaper peeled and cracked as if the weight of the world might cave in the entire building at any moment. A dark haired, slightly chubby young lady sat at the desk in the left corner of the room. Though my presence was obvious, she didn

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Chapter 2

 

 

 

I hate this city.

 

You come here with a purpose. To find out something that is important to you or maybe to find out something important about you. But when I walk down these streets it just feels so

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Chapter Four

 

 

 

I hastily left Loob's joint and hailed a cab.

 

"Airport, as quick as you can."

 

I had a cross country flight to catch and only one girl on my mind.

 

-

 

Evra Corgan, better known as The Devil.

 

She was a sick, twisted human being. Known for being loud, chaotic and a danger to herself and others around her. I'd met her just once before in a bar in downtown Portland back in '98.

 

She sat in a booth, along with some skinny girl with short dark hair wearing skin tight leather.

 

"You must be Evra," I guessed, as I sat down at their table.

 

"Who wants to know?" Corgan snapped back.

 

"Look I don't want trouble, I'm just trying to help a friend break into the west coast market," I explained.

 

"Yeah, I'm Evra, and this Peri Aun," she said, gesturing to the girl in leather. I watched, uncomfortable, as Peri Aun slid her hand down the front of Evra's pants right in front of me. Evra just stared into my eyes and grinned as Peri ventured deeper and deeper. A sudden look of shock came over Peri Aun's face. She screamed and ran from the table.

 

Evra just shrugged and said, "I guess not every fuzz is right for everyone."

 

I pretended the incident hadn't happened. "Corgan, an old pal wants to do business here, and he isn't taking no for an answer."

 

"So who is this entrepreneur?"

 

"Z. Lowfy-Vexington."

 

-

 

But that's a story for another time.

 

Right now, I just need to get to Oregon and figure this mess out. I started to drift off in a haze of ginger beard and yellow curry, but snapped out of it when the cab driver grunted and tapped the meter. I'd arrived at the airport. I sent some dollars and mojo his way and exited the cab.

 

"First flight to Portland please."

 

8 hours, six whiskeys, two Dramamines and one cab ride later and I was standing next to the wrought iron gates defending the home of Devil Evra.

 

The insignia on the fence read, "The Devil's Playground." Locals knew it better as, "The {censored} Mansion."

 

The gate buzzed and opened up.

 

Just in the front yard my senses were overwhelmed. A screeching chorus of noise, the pathway a haphazard sea of fur and stink... the burning stench of cat piss. I heaved but gulped most of it back down. What remained trickled out of my mouth and on to a passing sphynx.

 

"{censored}ing hairless cats..." I muttered, "they look like walking ball bags".

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Literally LOLing at this. For the love of all that is good and pure DO GO ON.

 

Also;

 

Just in the front yard my senses were overwhelmed. A screeching chorus of noise, the pathway a haphazard sea of fur and stink... the burning stench of cat piss. I heaved but gulped most of it back down. What remained trickled out of my mouth and on to a passing sphynx.


"{censored}ing hairless cats..." I muttered, "they look like walking ball bags".

 

 

Sig'd.

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Chapter Five

 

 

 

I wiped the vomit from my chin and continued up the paved walkway towards The {censored} Mansion. It was dark out but the path was lit by small LEDs that flickered on and off with each of my steps. As I reached the large wooden door that led into Evra

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Chapter Six

 

 

 

In the center of the next room was large contraption, which at first appeared to be a torture device. A skinny dark haired guy was strapped down to it by his wrists, ankles and waist. He had hair down to his chin and was wearing a dark shade of red lipstick. He was surrounded by four women, all beating him lightly with leather straps.

 

As we got closer he noticed us and in his precarious position still managed to tweak his left hand towards me as if to shake mine.

 

 

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Chapter Seven

 

 

 

I came to in the back of a moving van. My head was pounding. Two men sat across from me. They were yelling at each other. I tried listening to their conversation with the hope of finding out where I was heading.

 

The tall skinny man on the left in blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a red jacket, was apparently named Sam. The fat guy on the right wore a three piece grey suit. I assumed his obesity is what led to the nickname Sam kept calling him.

 

"Listen Big Ben, I just don't think that billy bat is enough to intimidate the prisoner."

 

"Oh you think you're so big and bad with your .45 caliber Dirty Harry pistol, eh Sam?" Big Ben scoffed. "I can beat him for hours with my bat, but how many times can you shoot the bloke before he's dead and of no use to you?"

 

I have to admit, I could've listened to their argument over the right way to protect one's self for hours, but I was distracted by the small black and white TV sitting on the floor in the corner of the van. An old episode of Star Trek was playing. I began to feel groggy again, but tried hard to focus on the plot to stay awake. The episode playing wasn't exactly helping my efforts to remain conscious.

 

The unnamed ensigns studied alien plant life on a distant planet in a very tedious and slow part of the show. Without warning, a group of Borg soldiers attacked and the ensigns desperately fired their phasers at the Borg onslaught.

 

"Funny," I thought to myself, "they always use the phasers at the slow parts."

 

My vision grew dark, and I passed out once more.

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