URBAN ADVENTURE
BY: Bluebolt
Peter and Malisa are sitting down after a long day. They are watching the 10 o'clock news. Peter looks over at his wife and smiles; she is six months pregnant with the new couple's first child. After a hard day at his new managerial position at the nearby automotive plant, Peter ate heartily the meal Malisa prepared for him earlier, and was now about to retire for the night. Letting out a jaw splitting yawn, Peter gets up and heads to the bathroom to tidy up for bed.
"Peter, honey? Can you run down to the store, before you go to bed, and pick me up some chips and a jug of chocolate milk?" Malisa says in a sweet, commanding voice.
Peter is about to say he would rather not when Malisa smiles that irresistible smile that says 'do it, or sleep on the couch' in such a pleasant, sweet manner. Peter looks towards the bedroom and silently sighs, defeated. "Sure Hon, whatever you want", Peter responds.
Peter enters the garage, turns on the light and works his way through the cramped garage to the rusty, splintered garage door. Grabbing the garage door in both hands, Peter pulls up forcefully and the door screeches open about a foot.
"Come on, you piece of crap! Huurg!" Again, Peter pulls up with all his might. This time the door decides not to resist and flies upward. Peter, unprepared for the sudden release, staggers backward and smacks the side of his knee on the bumper of his car. Silently cursing, Peter limps to the side of the car and opens the driver's door. As he is ducking into the car he hits his head on the edge of the door. Cursing aloud now, Peter fumbles for his keys and plugs one of them into the ignition. Peter turns the key and to his utmost disgust the engine does not start. Peter tries again; the engine turns over once, twice and coughs to a stop. Peter tries once more; the engine does not even try to turn over, instead it makes pathetic meowing sounds as if mocking mankind's engineering capabilities.
"AARH!! You gawddamn beater! This is it! You are going to the auto wreckers tomorrow!"
Peter steps out of the once mobile metal box and slams the door, across the room a rack of tools crashes to the floor. Peter storms out of the garage and grabs the open garage door. Peter pulls down with all his adrenaline-amplified strength. The door lurches once and crashes down as it derails. Peter looks at the crooked door for a moment as his face turns a dark red. Closing eyes and clenching jaw, Peter breathes deeply several times in a relaxing fashion. Peter abruptly turns towards the street and walks away from his warm home into the cold night.
After walking a short distance, Peter discovers what a beautiful night it is. It had been raining all day and had just let up a few hours earlier. The moist grass gave of a rich earthy smell that was rather relaxing. Peter was about to enjoy the evening when an automobile raced by and threw a puddle at him. It was like taking a shower fully clothed with cold, dirty water. After shouting obscenities at the departing vehicle, Peter wiped off the clinging mud and continued onward.
Moments later Peter came to be walking next to a chain link fence. Suddenly a grizzly dog attacks, snarling and barking aggressively. The suddenness of the attack startled Peter, causing him to jump. However, the dog was on the other side of the fence, unless the dog could jump over the five foot obstacle Peter was safe. Still, the dog was rather obnoxious and Peter, intent on making it go away, kicked a cloud of dirt and gravel into its face. This might have been a bad idea because it only served to further enrage the demonic beast. Snarling and spitting, the dog raced back and forth with even more animosity then before. As Peter nervously walked along, the dog followed on the other side of the fence, snarling and spitting just out of reach.
Peter, with the odd sense of humor he had, found this amusing, until the fence ended. The chain link fence simply ended and there was the dog standing before him with nothing preventing it from attacking. Both the dog and Peter stood there watching each other in silence. Peters face paled, and the dog seemed to smile at him as if saying 'its not so funny now is it?'. Peter turned and ran across the street propelled by visions of the dog chewing on his lifeless corpse. The dog gave chase, racing after Peter with bounding strides. Peter came to a the fence of a residents property and leaped onto, and over it in seconds. The dog did not make it over, but did manage to rip a small portion of material from Peter's pant leg. Peter leaned against the fence he had just scaled, tired after the encounter with the crazied killer dog. He was standing at the end of a short corridor, fence on one side house on the other. It was then that he noticed the other dog.
"Wohf!" it said. It was a really big dog.
Peter blinked and then cursed. Peter was cornered. He fumbled at the fence behind him trying to get over it. Without a running start he would not be able to climb it before the really big dog ate him alive. Peter noticed the glint of metal on the fence, which was, he realized, not just a fence but a fence with a gate. An idea popped into his panicked brain. Open the gate and let the two dogs eat each other! Peter groped around in the darkness, looking for the latch. The really big dog was consciously padding its was over to the intruder. Peter, growing more panicked by the second, slammed his shoulder into the gate a few times, it still would not open and now he had a sore shoulder.
"WOHF!" said the really big dog, it was alot closer now. Peter was busily cursing the darkness when a light suddenly appeared. Peter immediately found the latch and threw it open.
"Hey you! What the hell are you doing!?" shouted a mans voice from the house.
Peter ignored the question and raced through the gate and passed the suprized crazy dog.
Peter continued to run down the street toward his ultimate destination. Behind him he can hear the battle of two dogs and the curses of an enraged man.
Finally, Peter made it to the store. Upon entering, Peter could not help but notice the proprietor. The man behind the counter was an old, scruffy, tattooed, scared, beady eyed, pointy nosed, pock marked, man. He wore a dirty shirt and an even dirtier baseball cap sporting the logo of an unrecognizable team. The man stared at Peter with a malicious glean that said 'you don't belong here, go away'. Peter quickly gathered his stuff and was about to place the goods on the counter when a young man with a gun in hand and a ski masked face entered.
"You! Get on the floor!", said the man, pointing a gun at Peter's head. Peter hastily obeyed the order.
"Give us the cash old man!", said man to the proprietor.
"Juvenile idiot! Next time you try to rob someone bring a gun!", The proprietor reached under the counter and produced a colt45, dwarfing the other mans .22ca pistol. In one swift motion the proprietor grabbed the kid by his collar and stuffed the .45 in his face.
"AAHH!", said the would-be-robber as he dropped his gun. "Please don' kill me", he whimpered. Peter, climbing to his feet, suddenly noticed a fowl smell emanating from the ski masked figure.
"Get the 'ell out! You wort'less parasite! If I e'er see you around again I will paint me floor with yer brains", the proprietor ground the barrel of his cannon into the hooligans face harder with each syllable before throwing him to the floor. The soiled, bruised kid scurried out the door as fast as his weak legs would propel him and ran into the side of a parked car before disappearing into the night.
Peter placed his items on the counter and the proprietor rang them through.
"T'ree-fi'dy-nine," he said in a gruff voice. Peter handed him a five and waited for his change. The proprietor handed him a plastic bag with his items in it and a handful of change. "Thanks for yer business," he said in a voice that meant 'now get out of my store'. Peter quickly exited the store and nearly ran into the side of a parked car. Peter smiled; his task was near complete, all he had to do was return home. Hopefully, the return trip will be easier, he thought to himself. It then began to rain. Hard.
Several minutes later, a cold, wet Peter was walking up his front steps and about to get out of the rain, when it stopped raining. Peter entered, closing and locking the door behind him, removed his shoes and proceeded to the living room where Malisa was. Malisa was not there. In fact, all the lights in the house where out except the entrance light, left on for Peters convenience. Peter went to the kitchen to put the chocolate milk in the fridge and the chips in the pantry, he noticed the milk and a box of rice crispies left out on the table. After putting the milk and cereal away went to the bedroom and there was Malisa, sound asleep.
by: Bluebolt
Page created by: Jilli