I need you to do something...

[benchilada]

FUCK WITH MY ART!

I’ve just written some utter tripe, but I had to get it out of my head. I’m seeing it as a comic, but do what you will with it. Turn it into poetry, or prose, or a page of a comic, or write a song about it, or print it and wipe your booty with it, or do an oil painting, or whatever you want.

I just want to see what you all do with it.

Permission granted to twist, bend, and break it wherever you feel like.
If you turn something out from it, I'll split copyright on that piece with you 50/50. :D

----------------

Two men are standing on what I picture as a rooftop, but to be honest, it doesn’t need to be. I’m just seeing a scene that screams CITY! no matter what the precise location is.  They look extraordinarily similar, but not QUITE identical. Not quite twins, but could definitely be related. Or could be twins who haven’t seen each other in a while and don’t dress/do hair like the other. They’re both about thirty-seven years old, and look a little too much like government spooks from the movies. Each one is holding a gun, not a hand cannon, but not a derringer, either. Each holds it in their right hand, holding it steady, pointed at the other. I see them at about twenty feet apart, and I see wind, but what the fuck do I know? P.O.V., camera movement between frames, et cetera, is all up to you, but don’t keep it too static. Unless you want to.

One – So.

Two – Yup

One – This is kinda weird.

Two – Tell me about it. You’re even holding your gun the way I do.

One – No.

Two – No?

One –  You’re holding your gun the way I do.

Two – No need to be pedantic.

One – Sorry. Sarcastic comments have a way of slipping out under circumstances like these.

Two – Well…look, this is fascinating, and I’d love to keep talking to you...

One – But I need to go that way (he points past Two, not lowering his gun.)

Two – And I, of course, need to go that way (he points past One, also keeping his gun on target)

One – Well then.

Two – Shall we?

One – Oh, let’s…

 <Both one and two pull their fanciest, completely unnecessary smooth-ass hitman maneuver, whip about, and fire.
Both guns fire simultaneously, and there’s a startling CRACK! between the two of them. They both appear to be quite justifiably stunned.>

Two – Did I…

One – No, did I?

Two – No. (He looks to the ground between them.)

One – You’ve got to be kidding me.

<They both walk forward, keeping their eyes on the other one, and meet in the middle. Each pulls a smooth pivot on their gun arm, their weapon now pointed at the other’s temple, and they both squat down to look at the ground between them.
Sitting there is a lump of metal, relatively innocuous, but clearly the result of two slugs hitting each other dead on.>

Two – I’d be really impressed…

One – If I knew how we did that.

<They both get up and back away from each other again, not as far this time.>

Two – Is this some kinda clone thing?

One – Do I look like your clone?

Two – Um…kinda.

One – Yeah, shit…

Two – It’s seem pretty clear to me that things are a little messed up here, yeah?

One – I’m inclined to agree.

Two – So what are we going to do about this?

One – How about we set our guns down and walk past each other, yeah?

Two – Suits me.

One – On three, then…

They both begin to lower their guns as the count begins.

Two – One

One – Two

Two – Three

Both swing the guns back up and each shoots the other in the shoulder of the gun arm. Both drop their pieces and drop to their knees.

One – Fuck.

Two – Fuck.

One – You shot me.

Two – I did.

One – Ouch.

Two – And you shot me.

One – Yup.

Two – Damn.

One – Seriously, what the hell?

Two – I thought I could get the drop on you, just wing you, right?

One – And so you did. And so did I, apparently.

Two – Noticed.

One – Of course, our goddamned bullets…

Two – …couldn’t meet in the middle this time, could they?

One – Going to miss my appointment now.

Two – And I’m going to miss mine.

One – If I hadn’t taken this shortcut…

Two – We wouldn’t have gotten lost.

One – Getting lost, though…

Two – …is just ending up where you’re supposed to be.

<They look at each other quizzically.>

One – My da’ used to tell me that.

Two – Mine, too.

One – Tall, black hair, beard?

Two – Short, bald, smooth cleft chin.

One – Shit.

Two – So not brothers…

One – …and not clones.

Two – Quite the fortuitous coincidence, this.

One – Fortuitous? In what way? We’ve both been shot!

Two – Well, the way I see it, one of is going to live, the other die.

One – Still not fortuitous, not in my book.

Two – Well, that’s how it always works in the movies, innit?

One – In the movies?

Two – Books, too. This is totally one of those Moments of Profound Revelation.

One – Don’t tell me you’re one of those prats who reads into what color of eye make-up a white director puts on his black actresses, are     you?

Two – Look, I’m not talking bloody Alphaville here, this is strictly Dolph Lundgren level shite…

One – Alright, then, so what is it we’re supposed to do next, then?

Two – Well, generally, one of the fellows reveals a profound and important secret that sets a row of emotional dominoes to toppling,
     ending in a stunning conclusion

One – Ah.

<Awkward pause, as they both look around, totally at a loss for what to say.>

One – Umm…I try to wank every few days, even if I’m seeing somebody, as a kind of stress release.

Two – I don’t think that counts.

One – Well, that’s all I’ve fucking got!

Two – Relax, it’s fine. It’s just that we’re right on the cusp of turning into one of those heartfelt black-comedy/dramas…

One – What, like Speed?

Two – Fuck off.

One – Would desperately like to, trust me.

Two – So why don’t you?

One – Well, you know too much about me.

Two – What, that you’re a chronic masturbator?

One – Dangerous information in the wrong hands.

Two – Urgh, don’t say “wrong hands.”

One – Sorry.

<Another awkward pause.>

Two – Should we, y’know, go for our guns again?

One – It’ll only end in tears.

<Awkward pause.>

Two – Here, somebody’s coming!

One – What? Why would somebody be coming here?

Two – How should I know? Hurry, kick your gun away!

One – You first.

Two – Right, don’t get pissy, let’s just sit on ‘em.

<They adjust carefully, each watching the other, and sit on their guns. A shadow is approaching, and they can see it clearly, while we cannot.>

One – Oh, fuck me.

Two – Are you fucking kidding me?

Three – The two of you say “fuck” a lot.

<The third person comes into clear view, and he’s clearly identical to One and Two.>

One – Theatre of the absurd, this is.

Two – So I see.

Three – It won’t be so absurd in a moment.

One – Wait, is that a threat?

Two – Is this some kind of joke?

<Three’s hand goes inside his jacket and pulls out a gun. One and two are going for theirs, but are slower, what with their being sitting on them and all.>

Three – Take your hands away from your asses…slowly.

One – Don’t think I’ve ever been told that before.

Two – I have, but I was in prison at the time.

Three – It seems this is going to be easier that I thought.

One – Are you going to kill us?

Two – Who fucking sent you?

Three – Language. Yes and I can’t tell you, in that order.

One – Can’t tell us…

Two – ...or won’t tell us?

Three – Can’t. Not even sure who sent me.

One – What?

Two – That doesn’t make any sense!

Three – Believe me, I realize that now.

One – So don’t do it!

Two – It’s not worth it!

Three – Oh, I know. But it’s what I’m here to do.

One – God, if this is a movie, it’s crap.

Two – It’s like French New Wave! Bloody Alphaville after all!

Three – Don’t blame me.

One – I know, blame the writer.

Two – Do what now? Did you say?

<All three of them look face-front out of the panel, straight into the face of the reader.>

Three – Well, what do you know?

One – Oh, hell no!

Two – What the fuck kind of garbage is this?

Three – Ours not to reason why, and all that.

One – No, fuck you, I want words with this writer!

Two – Get the fuck in line!

Three – Please settle down.

<One goes for his gun, and is promptly shot by Three.>

One – Oh, fuck… <Falls dead.>

Two – Hey, that was uncalled for!

Three – I did warn him not to…

<Two interrupts as he goes for his own gun, and he, too, is shot dead by Three.>

Two – Figures. What a load of…<Falls dead.>

<Three lowers his gun and sort of looks around a bit. He seems at a loss for what to do now.>

Three – That was profoundly unsatisfying. Was that it? I feel like my only motivation was to kill the two of them, and I haven’t learned anything from it. Not why I looked like them, or what they were doing here, or how I knew they were here, or…

    <His voice drifts off and he looks face-front out of the panel.>

Three – So that was my only purpose? I wasn’t even deus ex machina, was I? I can only hope that it’s me deciding to do this next bit…

    <Three places the barrel of his gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger. His brains exit rather quickly, and he collapses in a heap.>

    <Last panel, all three lay quite unnecessarily dead.>

Text (not dialogue) balloon in the upper left corner, that says only one word:

Shit.

END

benjamin sTone

CURRENT MUSIC: “The Happening” – The Pixies
LAST BOOK I READ A PAGE OF: Stakeknife: Britain’s Secret Agents in Ireland – Martin Ingram and Greg Harkin
LAST MOVIE: A Very Long Engagement (France, 2004, Dir: Jeunet, w/ Audrey Tatou)
NEXT MOVIE: Oldboy (Korea, 2003, Dir: Chan-wook Park)