this is my portfolio of creative writings. if my science inventions don't pan out then i intend to make money writing science fiction novels. below are some of my best works.
illegitimate vietcong child
this story is about ryan. he is an illegitimate vietcong child.
ryan was conceived in america. his mother a vietnam refuge and his true father an anglo saxon milk man. during the vietnam war ryan's mother fled the country for safety, leaving her husband to fight alone. they had planned to convene once again in america once his term with the Vietnamese National Liberation Front was over.
ryan's mother soon became pregnant after coming to america. in order to hide her infidelity she quickly sent for her husband to join her in her new country. when ryan was born she had led her husband to believe that he was born premature and that is why she gave birth to him only months after their reunion. shortly after the birth of their child the vietmanese father became suspicious. ryan had seamed a little too white, a little too tall, and a little too smart to be his son. ryan’s mother insisted it was their child and to further support her story she would often hit ryan about the head in an attempt to inflict mild retardation.
ryan was raised believing he was a full fledged vietmanese premie. his mother would work him very long hours in the family rice pad located in the backyard of their surburan home. ryan’s mother insisted they all live in a traditional vietmanese manor. she would only allow ryan to dress in traditional vietmanese attire and he was forced to wear grass hats and sandals made of wood.
as ryan reached his teenage years he grew very conflicted. he too had noticed that he did not quite look like his mother and father. his conflicted feelings, mixed with his mild retardation, led to a very mentally unstable illegitimate Vietcong child.
ryan would spend hours upon hours working in the family rice pad alone, chanting to himself the sacred words his father had taught him “Cong San Viet Nam”. over the years ryan’s mental illness progressed and eventually he lost all touch with reality. ryan now believes himself to be a cancerous prostate belonging to a man by the name of jack.
old war veterans suck
Old war veterans suck. They're all messed in the head and stuff. They have no idea what's going on in the real world. They live in an imaginary place. They kinda have a whole new land inside their skull. I would like to break open one of their skulls and see what's in there. Peel open their messed up, scar ridden, shrapnel soaked, knife wounded heads and see what kind of life they live in there. To see what makes them think their sick and twisted ways. To try to understand what makes their psychotic mental minds tick. Then maybe I won't hate them so much, then maybe I won't knuckle punch them in their throat every time I walk by one. Then maybe I can sympathize with their violent and apathetic ways.
the end.
better off dead.
Anchorage Alaska. It's a great place to live if you're a single male who likes the wilderness. That also explains why there are so many problems here. Let's look at a story of a guy named Judas.
Judas is a single male 35 years of age. He moved here a few years back. He is a fairly large man with no hair on his plump head, a few chins, a grizzly beard and the eyes of a horse. He sweats like a pig year round, too.
Judas is a bright guy, he has just eaten too many sausages in his life and I think the cholesterol is getting to his brain. He hasn't really had much in the way of friends. This may explain why he never graduated high school. But he seems to keep close company through his bad habits.
Judas is back in Toma's apartment after Toma bailed Judas out of jail again. Just another of many times when Judas has stolen another plumber's work truck.
"Not again Judas!" Toma was angry again. Being Juda's parole officer he had to put up with him a lot, and on top of that he lives in the apartment next to Juda's. At 38, Toma was a fit man. Tall and slender with dark hair. His stern voice began yelling again. "I've been your parole officer for 3 years now, and every time you steal Mac's truck I have to come and bail you out!"
"Sorry Toma, but I needed the truck to fix what's-her-bag's toilet again."
"Judas, you're not a real plumber. Mac needs his plumbing truck. He has his own jobs to do too you know?"
"Settle down, Toma. What makes you think I'm not a real plumber? Anyhow, the plumber's oath states that you should be courteous to your competition. That includes sharing your equipment."
"Forget it Judas. I have to feed Toad anyway. Poor dog is probably starving."
"I was wondering where I left him. I've been looking for that mutt everywhere. Poor thing probably thinks I abandoned him."
"Dang it Judas! Toad isn't your dog, just like Mac's truck isn't yours! Just because you take things don’t mean they belong to you!"
"Are you delirious Toma? I brought Toad over last week when we were playing poker and gambling sausage chips. I must have forgot to bring him home. The least you could do is give him back."
The doorbell rang and Judas jumped out of his chair to answer it.
"It's for me! It's for me! I know it!" Judas yelled while running to the door. Toma slapped his head. He couldn't figure out why Judas would think someone would come to Toma's apartment for him.
"Hey Toma! It's what's-her-bag. Should I invite her in?"
"Go ahead. What do you want, lady?"
Toma and Judas needn't worry about being polite to her. They had tried that when she first moved into the apartment below Judas, but she had been harassing them ever since. No one had learned her name. She never talked about herself. Most people just called her whats-her-bag. Everyone knew she was senile; somehow she had convinced herself that Toma and Judas were her twin sons.
"How are my sons doing?" she asked, "I sure hope everything is all right."
"We're doing great Mom!" Judas replied.
Toma's face began to twitch; he hated it when Judas called her mom. She didn't need anybody encouraging her psychotic behavior.
"Well I just stopped by to ask if either of you has seen a suspicious looking man running around. I caught another Peeping Tom again. This time it was a tall man, he had a pair of panty-hose over his head."
Toma wanted that paranoid old lady out of his apartment. He gently began pushing her out the door.
"Will one of you boys come back with me? I'm scared to go back alone. What if the Peeping Tom comes back?"
"Sorry Mom, we're kind of busy right now." Judas quickly replied.
No one dared to go into whats-her-bag's apartment, even the landlord was afraid of the place. The joint was full of plants. Every window and every shelf had plants on them and ivy grew through out the apartment. Cats roamed the place freely and when one died it couldn't be found. She just left it to rot with the plants.
"I kinda like that lady," Judas said.
"You're starting to scare me Judas, that lady is plain nuts. And I told you about calling her mom!"
"I know, I know. I just like it when she calls me son. Anyway, I got to go. I have a big job to do tomorrow."
"Watch it Judas, if you take Mac's truck again, there is no way I can bail you. Money is tight now."
"No problem!" Judas said as he shut the door behind him.
Most people knew Judas wasn't a real plumber. The only jobs he got were the new people in town, and they learned their lesson real quick.
Judas didn't have much plumbing equipment, just the basic tools such as: monkey wrench, dental floss, a leather belt, and an embossed toilet plunger with a hand carved oak handle. He usually just swiped Mac's truck in the morning, and used his equipment until Mac would find out. Most people wondered why Mac put up with Judas, but Mac realized that if it were not for Judas's screwing up everyone's plumbing, he would be out of business.
Toma heard a loud racket coming from the apartment above him. When he headed up there to see what the problem was he saw Mac's truck in the parking lot below. Judas met him at the door.
"Hey Toma! Sorry about the noise, but I'm almost done. I just have a few more pipes to install," Judas said, wiping his hands on a towel.
"I saw Mac's truck in the lot on my way up, you didn't steal it again did you?"
"No Toma, Mac let me borrow his tools. He should be down there right now."
Toma looked down and sure enough, Mac was there. Just waiting for Judas to finish so he could go up and do the job right.
"Sorry for implying that you stole Mac's truck, I just didn't know that you and Mac were such good friends. Are you in the socialist party together?"
"Actually, we're not. He makes it clear that I am a loathsome being and if it weren’t for me providing such excellent business for him, he would squeeze the life from me with his bare hands. He says he is doing it out of professional courtesy. I don't mind though, I get paid the same. I also save on tools so I can set some money aside for some plumber's schooling."
"Judas, get a grip, you're not a plumber. You're never going to be a plumber either. The closest relation to a plumber you have is a bad case of rectum!"
"Relax Toma, a little stressed don't you think? So tell what's-her-bag your problems. I'm sure she can help."
"You're the one who needs help, Judas! I'm going home, I have better things to do than to talk to you anymore."
After Judas finished up his plumbing job, he was feeling down due to Toma's harsh words and decided to go on a walk to think things over. It had been raining earlier and Judas loved the fresh rain air.
"Everyone is turning on me! Et tu Toma?" Judas screamed through the night air clenching his fists and running down the dirt road. Judas ran and ran; his chest was heaving but he kept on running. Judas was trying to out run his pain, but his plumber's butt insured that he could never succeed. Since success was out of the picture Judas decided a brisk stroll would have to suffice.
Emerging from the depths of night two renegades appeared on bicycles. One boy with an unkempt mop of red hair pulled up along side Judas. His eyes were crossed in a fit of rage and he curled his upper lip and snarled as his big black boot landed a swift blow to Judas’ kidney. Judas buckled and dropped into a muddy puddle. One of the hooligans shouted, "Ha Ha, what a dope!" as the demons took off down the road.
Judas pulled himself from the muddy water and said, "Awe cripes, little jerks. Oh well, I'll go home and see if Toad can cheer me up."
As Judas walked through the door, Toad ran and jumped on Judas's chest. Judas showered the dog with cooings of love.
Toad latched his fangs onto Judas's throat. After a short struggle, Judas managed to throw the dog off of him. Toad jumped up and ran over to Toma's apartment.
"I guess everybody has turned on me," Judas said, "except what's-her-bag. I'll go visit her."
Upon opening her door, what's-her-bag, observed the fat, muddy, bloody, mass we like to call Judas. "I don't think you are in any condition to attempt to fix my plumbing. I don't think you're in any condition to coexist with the rest of mankind. You should go off into a corner and die. You can't do anything right. I swear you would be better off dead."
"Maybe she was right," he thought to himself, "perhaps I am better off dead."
As he walked past the elevator he got an idea.
"I could crush my head in the elevator doors!" It took Judas twenty minutes of the elevator door, repeatedly opening and closing on his head before he finally gave up. He took the elevator to the top floor.
"I'll jump off of the balcony," Judas thought. Judas leaped over the railing, fell three stories, and landed in a thicket of bushes. Not enough to kill a man, just enough to cause him a lot of pain.
"I suck!" he said, "I'm better off dead and I can't even kill myself. I can't give up! I have to do at least one thing right in my life."
Judas lay in bed thinking of ways to make everyone sorry for being such jerks.
"I'll overdose on pills. That ought to be painless."
After about twenty pills, Judas was feeling sleepy.
"This is great," he thought to himself as he drifted off, "I'll just fall asleep and never wake up."
A few hours later Judas awoke with great stomach pains. He ran to the kitchen and read the medicine label. He had ingested a bottle of Toad's stool softening pills. Judas spent the night in the bathroom recovering from his latest suicidal endeavor.
The next day Judas was back to brain storming. After a few minutes of inactivity a fire truck drove by.
"I'll set myself on fire!"
He headed out into the parking lot and began siphoning gas out of Mac's truck. After swallowing a few cups, he doused himself in the fuel. The only problem this time, was that he was in such a hurry, he had left the matches in his apartment. He began running back to his apartment when the gasoline fumes got to him and he passed out in the parking lot.
Toma happened by, helped him up, and brought him up to his apartment.
"Judas, what in the world where you thinking?"
"Why did you help me Toma, I thought you weren't my friend anymore?"
"Come on Judas, I still have compassion towards human life, its just that lately, you've been more trouble than I can handle. Can I take off now, or will you do something stupid?"
"I just want to be alone right now."
With that Toma left, and Judas went back to his suicidal tendencies.
Looking through his cupboards, Judas found a bottle of Draino. The warning label caught his eye. "Harmful or Fatal if Swallowed!"
"Bottoms up," Judas said as he guzzled the Draino. The extreme pain he felt afterwards caused him pass out again.
Judas came to after the pain had died down. He pulled himself up to the mirror; blisters had already formed around his lips.
A train whistle called to Judas from the edge of town, he stumbled out immediately.
The train had already gone by the time Judas staggered to the tracks.
"No problem," he thought, "I'll just wait for the next train."
He laid his head on the tracks and waited. A light rain shortly came; by dusk it was pouring. Judas lay on the cold, steel tracks drenched. It was dawn before he decided to give up the train idea. Discouraged, he stumbled towards his apartment. Then he heard it again. It was the train whistle. It blew loud and hard. Judas spun around and sprinted. Yes, our fine plumber ran for all he was worth. In the early light, it was difficult for Judas to negotiate the terrain. He stumbled and then heard the sound of clashing steel and a snap. His leg bone had snapped like a dry twig within the powerful jaws of a bear trap.
Judas saw the approaching train and the whistle beckoned to him once again. With a tenacious spirit he began gnawing at his leg just below the knee ripping out entire chunks of flesh. He pulled at the one last vein, grinding it between his yellowed, bloody teeth. It had hardened with cholesterol and defied penetration. Picking up two stones Judas smashed the mangled vein between them.
"I'm free, free at last,” he shouted as the vein gave. He crawled up to the embankment and plunged his head onto the tracks. He lay there and stared at the caboose as it diminished on the horizon. He was too late.
Dragging his body along the gravel he wondered aloud, "There must be a reason I am being kept alive. No mortal man could live through what I have. I was meant to live, its fate."
Judas turned his head to view an approaching car; it was a Chevy truck full of cowboys. As they drove by, the driver threw an empty beer can at Judas.
"Screw you pal,” Judas shouted with newfound confidence. He pulled himself up to face his aggressors and proclaimed, "An empty beer can can't hurt me. I can take a licken' but I'll keep on tickin'. I will survive! I will survive!"
Then a cowboy in the back of the truck threw a new, unopened can of beer at Judas. The can clocked him in the forehead. He tumbled backward as his one good leg became entangled in some rusted barbed-wire. His bloodied head plunged into the drainage ditch. The crisp, clear, cold, Alaskan spring water (the kind they use to brew beer) took away his breath.
Judas screamed, "I have to live, its fate!" But alas, the only thing heard in the Alaskan wilderness was silence. A few bubbles rose to the surface of the water, then his leg stopped twitching. Everything was still. It was fate.
the end.
