So I have to get this down, so I can come back to it and expound on it later. I do a lot of traveling for my job. In those travels, I often am accompanied by other people. Because of excessive speeding tickets and habit... I have a radar detector. Now this past trip, my friend driving this time, got a ticket because the radar was muted (and he was speeding)... so I got to experience first had what it's like to sit in the other seat when being pulled over (maybe I have in the past, but not that I can remember). So here's an idea inspired by that last and a few prior trips...
Disclaimer: None of the crimes are true, just thought it would enhance an already juicy story...
Here goes nothing...
Two coworkers traveling home from trip to Elko, NV have run in with Johnny law. "A" having experienced many traffic stops, looks at this one as being targeted yet again by the police and their "have nothing better to do" actions. "B" hasn't been pulled over in a long time, but was speeding/driving this time.
While two men are talking initially to officers, A gets out of hand. Though not in trouble until he opens his mouth, gets pulled out of car and put in squad car under arrest. B waits patiently for his ticket, pulls concealed weapon and opens fire on cop 1, then quickly fires on cop 2 as well.
A & B freak out, realize what happened, come up with idea to save their skins. Put police in car, pull off up the road and wait for another speeder. Pull him/her over shoot her, then stage whole thing. Take their ticket, leave all, and head home.
Later on, things catch up with them, years after they got away with it. Although murdered cops last confirmed stop was A&B's stop... since B left signed ticket on clipboard in squad car, crime "took place" down the road at different stop, and since B paid his fine, he was never was linked to crime.
A & B had some sort of falling out. Now no longer friends...
Either A turns in B with journal entry (found after commits suicide), or
B is wanted for past burglaries and gets pulled over again... Police link him to prior murders... B drags A into mess too.
So far I've got a scene into this, taking it from a different angle... but let me know what you think? Story good enough to watch? Interesting? Any reservations?
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Close to Home (PG-13 for Language)
"Hey babe, it's Charlie. I'm just getting on the freeway, heading home. It's been a hellish day. Todd is gonna have my head for messing up this job. These hospital plans keep setting us back. If I have one more bad thing happen to me today I'm gonna kill someone! Sorry. I know I shouldn't get so worked up about things I can't truly control. I'm just exhausted and ready for some of your good cooking. Call me back when you get a minute. I'll pick up our little munchkin from the 'sitter? Love ya."
Moments after he sets the cell down, it rings.
"Hey! Sorry Todd, I thought you were my wife calling back. No. He never made that request. Well not to me. Why didn't anyone let me know? I'm running these plans to their office now. Are you kidding me? Another draft? Well I know that it's my job. I'm not saying that. Whatever. We'll do it again. Thanks for your call Todd. Talk to you later."
A shrill honk yanks Charlie from his inner-dialogue. He glances up at his rear view mirror only to see the ominous grill and flashing headlights of a monstrous truck tailgating him. He speeds up a bit, then taps his brakes. His attempt at sending the "get off my ass" signal only made the driver more infuriated as he pulled along side to show one of his own one-fingered signals.
Charlie rolls down the passenger window, returning the gesture.
"Get off your phone asshole!" is the final message Charlie hears as the truck races down the road ahead of them.
It's as if a switch turned on in Charlie's head that made him keenly aware of all the bad driving habits of every other driver on the road. Each second on this pavement escalates his blood pressure and stress level. He can feel a literal swelling of the vein in his forehead, pulsating as if keeping tally marks of every offense in his view. A comment here. A gesture there. He speeds up, changes lanes to get ahead of all the "stupid drivers" in his path, leaving their inadequacies in his wake.
"Move your slow ass outta my way! Brake Lights? Of course, had to be a chick. This is no longer a place for bimbo drivers. If I had a AK-47 I'd mow your micro-machine right off my runway. Come on! You've gotta be shitting me lady. You're not even going 55. That's illegal in my town. Ooh, so now all you clowns wanna keep boxing me in? We'll see about that!"
"Holy shit what have I done? How did it go this far? Wonder if they're alright? Maybe I should just get outta here? Or, maybe I'll call the police for them, turn myself in? Idiot, dude you are such an idiot!"
Charlie inches his vehicle backward, switching from rationalizations to self-loathing curses as he anticipates the state of the victims of his rage. Finally alongside the shredded vehicle, he steps out of his vehicle. Heavy black lines mark the path this now twisted metal took as it exited the flat plane of solid earth for sky, earth to sky, then earth for at least another hundred feet. The heavy smell of burning rubber and molten metal permeate the air. A battered woman emerges from the passenger door, now atop the car. She calls to the other woman in the car, reaching down into the wreckage to assist the driver to freedom.
Shocked to see both victims alive and well-enough to walk, Charlie hesitantly shuffles over to the two women.
"Are the two of you alright? I can't believe your car flipped that many times and you're alive to tell the tale. You're both so luck to be... Sharon? Oh my God, Sharon are you alright? Honey, you were inside that car? I can't believe I almost killed you. I couldn't get a hold of you, then some jerk cut me off and a million other people kept pushing that button that led me to nearly murder my own wife... Oh I'm so glad you're alright babe. Let's get you to a hospital, County General is not more than a mile or two up the road. I could take you both there and then get things sorted out here."
"You're an asshole, Chuck! You almost did it this time, pal." Sharon scolded. "You let things push you to the point of no return so easily, without even thinking about who these people are and what they're going through. What would our little girl have done if we were both in this accident, huh? Left alone because of your pride and impatience? Sit over there and wait for the cops to come take you away. We're finished!"
Without a word Charles sat between the vehicles as more vehicles arrived to assist. No one spoke to him, so his thoughts replayed his trip over and over. What had once seemed never-ending, now took fractions of a second to review. He couldn't figure out what to do to escape this nightmare.
"Charles Olcott? You need to come sit in my patrol car. You've got a lot of explaining to do."
Moments after he sets the cell down, it rings.
"Hey! Sorry Todd, I thought you were my wife calling back. No. He never made that request. Well not to me. Why didn't anyone let me know? I'm running these plans to their office now. Are you kidding me? Another draft? Well I know that it's my job. I'm not saying that. Whatever. We'll do it again. Thanks for your call Todd. Talk to you later."
A shrill honk yanks Charlie from his inner-dialogue. He glances up at his rear view mirror only to see the ominous grill and flashing headlights of a monstrous truck tailgating him. He speeds up a bit, then taps his brakes. His attempt at sending the "get off my ass" signal only made the driver more infuriated as he pulled along side to show one of his own one-fingered signals.
Charlie rolls down the passenger window, returning the gesture.
"Get off your phone asshole!" is the final message Charlie hears as the truck races down the road ahead of them.
It's as if a switch turned on in Charlie's head that made him keenly aware of all the bad driving habits of every other driver on the road. Each second on this pavement escalates his blood pressure and stress level. He can feel a literal swelling of the vein in his forehead, pulsating as if keeping tally marks of every offense in his view. A comment here. A gesture there. He speeds up, changes lanes to get ahead of all the "stupid drivers" in his path, leaving their inadequacies in his wake.
"Move your slow ass outta my way! Brake Lights? Of course, had to be a chick. This is no longer a place for bimbo drivers. If I had a AK-47 I'd mow your micro-machine right off my runway. Come on! You've gotta be shitting me lady. You're not even going 55. That's illegal in my town. Ooh, so now all you clowns wanna keep boxing me in? We'll see about that!"
"Holy shit what have I done? How did it go this far? Wonder if they're alright? Maybe I should just get outta here? Or, maybe I'll call the police for them, turn myself in? Idiot, dude you are such an idiot!"
Charlie inches his vehicle backward, switching from rationalizations to self-loathing curses as he anticipates the state of the victims of his rage. Finally alongside the shredded vehicle, he steps out of his vehicle. Heavy black lines mark the path this now twisted metal took as it exited the flat plane of solid earth for sky, earth to sky, then earth for at least another hundred feet. The heavy smell of burning rubber and molten metal permeate the air. A battered woman emerges from the passenger door, now atop the car. She calls to the other woman in the car, reaching down into the wreckage to assist the driver to freedom.
Shocked to see both victims alive and well-enough to walk, Charlie hesitantly shuffles over to the two women.
"Are the two of you alright? I can't believe your car flipped that many times and you're alive to tell the tale. You're both so luck to be... Sharon? Oh my God, Sharon are you alright? Honey, you were inside that car? I can't believe I almost killed you. I couldn't get a hold of you, then some jerk cut me off and a million other people kept pushing that button that led me to nearly murder my own wife... Oh I'm so glad you're alright babe. Let's get you to a hospital, County General is not more than a mile or two up the road. I could take you both there and then get things sorted out here."
"You're an asshole, Chuck! You almost did it this time, pal." Sharon scolded. "You let things push you to the point of no return so easily, without even thinking about who these people are and what they're going through. What would our little girl have done if we were both in this accident, huh? Left alone because of your pride and impatience? Sit over there and wait for the cops to come take you away. We're finished!"
Without a word Charles sat between the vehicles as more vehicles arrived to assist. No one spoke to him, so his thoughts replayed his trip over and over. What had once seemed never-ending, now took fractions of a second to review. He couldn't figure out what to do to escape this nightmare.
"Charles Olcott? You need to come sit in my patrol car. You've got a lot of explaining to do."
Round One: Fight!
Hey readers,
I just wanted to let you know that I'm trying something I haven't done in a long time: creative writing. I have actually had a number of ideas flood into my head over the last few weeks and like usual never put it down into words across any media.
I am desperately trying to give this a go. So someone read and comment on this stuff. It may not be the kind of read that goes places, but at least it will be entertaining (even if it's only to poke fun at).
I just wanted to let you know that I'm trying something I haven't done in a long time: creative writing. I have actually had a number of ideas flood into my head over the last few weeks and like usual never put it down into words across any media.
I am desperately trying to give this a go. So someone read and comment on this stuff. It may not be the kind of read that goes places, but at least it will be entertaining (even if it's only to poke fun at).
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