Smoke,Mice,Broken Mirrors

Another adventure of Al North, Gonzo writer.

Finding myself standing in front of the man and his cruel Nazi like tactics of Justice, I swore to the learned man in the big chair I was never in any position of a stolen car, I had explained my paper had rented a red car for me but failed to give me details of the model. Any reasonable man would naturally assume his editor arranged a classic 1969 charger, fire engine red and just as fast. It wasn't my fault the keys didn't work, thankfully a Latino gentleman passing by offer his assistance for a nominal fee, but that rotten b*****d must have planet massive amounts of drugs in the car. The so called representative of the people, thankfully was recovering from a heavy night of drinking and could barely argue the case, while the arresting officer screamed in protest shortly before dropping dead on the floor of a massive heart attack. In the panic the judge dismissed the case shortly before the shock of the dead cop caused the Judge to suffer an acute stroke.

Leaving the court house my editor had managed to leave 57 voice mails on my cell phone, I had felt burden with the gadget hand gave it to a homeless man in loo of spare change. My next move was to send the transcripts of the court to my editor to publish, something to keep the testicle impaired bean counter that he was. But his checks never bounced, which helps when establishing a total bound with Hash dealers, angry bartenders, and bookies who assume just because a man wins a few awards he can pay off his debits or his legs will be broken.
While attempting to flee my apartment, my editor demand I fly to Colorado to cover the trail of a teenage girl who was accused of setting fire to a fellow students house over a boy. To some this may have seen an open and shut case, a counterfeiting tribute to the lack of interactive parenting in the mobile age of technology. As stories go, this is considered more of a fluff piece that papers are forced to do, the kind of material that will come up in election time for someone seeking higher office. The state of Colorado will tolerate a lot of hijinks from a character as such as myself. If memory serves the Charges were dropped for the time at The Eskimo Car Wash. But that is another story for an entirely different light.
The flight was short enough for the sheets of acid to leave a lasting effect as I stumbled from the taxi to my hotel room. Front Desk clerks lack any humor and always insist on identification rather than  mans honest word. The next day the Prosecution relied heavily on class mates of the accused,this was the build up. An attempt to depict an angry loner school girl who turned against societies norms and let slip the dogs of war. And as you can imagine as far as Trails went it was boring, the evidence was weak, threats and circumstantial evidence.

These days Prosecutors rely on more witness testimony than any other forms of evidence short of D.N.A. , and video surveillance which the prosecution had known of. And the tactic of witnesses who already had a dislike for the young girl, were paraded one after the other. Juries in these cases are useless, most are people who have a hidden disdain for children and look for an excuse to send one inside. Her parent's managed to keep a hopeful look in their eyes as if by some miracle would save their darling girl dressed as a goth in court. My sense's required refreshment.
 
Going to the local watering hole seemed like the right idea at the time, the locals had a drink called 'The Bladder Buster' a strange mix of dangerous toxins the some how passed for alcohol.  A novice drinker/recreational drug user can tell you mixing drugs with alcohol is dangerous, but for experienced and seasoned adventurers we understand this to be a lie and push the limits of human endurance. Strictly speaking, my best work is done completely hammered, but I will be damned if I can remember what I have done.

Waking up three days later to my editor kicking the door in and finding myself asleep upside down in the bathroom may appear odd to someone who can not recognize genius.
"Do you want to explain yourself AL?" He threw a newspaper in my face, "You wanna tell me how this happened, and how my own reporter doesn't give his own paper the lead on this?"
It seems in my massive black out, I solved the crime for the police, the fire department, and the district attorneys office. "What the hell did you smoke and what the hell did you drink?" Sitting attempting to read the news paper while my editor screamed. At one point in my stopper, I found myself at the crime scene and discovered a burned mouse in the corner of the cellar, someone had tied a string, set it on fire and let it loose in the cellar. Shoving my editor outside, going over my notes, I learned the owner of the house, the father of the rival girl had a policy out on the house and stood to collect five times the market value. My editor promised a gun pointing Christmas if I don't write some kind of story over what had transpired.



Maybe, depends how hard up I am in December   

Reviews

[zach h.]

This chapter is a really good chapter. I love the character and the struggles that he is up against. However, the reason that this chapter only got an honorable mention and not a first place prize in my contest was becuase I felt it was a bit scattered. I loved the plot of this. Totally awesome. I just got lost a few times througout it. This has tremendous potential, I just think it needs a little bit of refinement so that the reader can follow it better. I hope that this isn't too mean of a review, that is not my intention. I wish you the very best. Keep up the good writing.