Friends

INT. ABBEY ROAD STUDIOS – DAY

The band sits around in an irregular formation singing or playing their instruments.

BILLY (singing)

Look out helter skelter
She's coming down fast
Yes she is
Yes she is coming down fast

JOHN

How’s that?

RINGO

I got blisters on my fingers!

FADE TO WHITE.

 

The story continues inside the convenience store of some small town in the middle of the great unknown, America. Charlie strides in, those crazy eyes of his dart about before settling on the white squares resting in a wiry metal basket. Mark takes his book to the cashier, he keeps his eyes securely on his feet as he hands the old man a crumpled $5 bill from the front pocket of his dirty jeans. Sweaty palms clutching his new acquisition he heads out “Hey kid, you forgot your receipt.” No response. Record in hand Charlie moves to pay, watching Mark as if he were a cockroach.

“Oh this one, this is new, I don’t much care for this kinda stuff myself.”

“Yep, yep…aha.”

The erratic behaviour of the customer kills the small talk “That’s $11.79.”

“Ahem, yep, ok” he reaches into his pants, the prison detergent makes his hand itch. A handful of change drops onto the counter and Charlie rushes out.

“Hey Wait! There’s only 9 bucks…” The words fall away as the pickup revs away into the night. Hollywood awaits.

 

Look at your game, Girl

Walking along the dusty track Susan dreams of something more. Each step kicks up a cloud, the sun beats down on her, manifest destiny had been her beacon but it’s waning. She wears her hand like a peek, turning her neck to investigate the rumbling that builds up behind her. Rusty and bottle green, the pickup rattles its way up the hill. Fields as far as the eye can see, water towers and barns, white wooden fences and now the pickup, all they need is an elderly couple with a pitchfork.

Her thin, tanned arm shoots out beside her, thumb erect. The truck skids to a halt about 10 feet ahead of her. Before long she’s stood over a 26 year old blonde woman. Each stab maiming not only her but her unborn child. She wipes her fingers in the dead actress’s blood, scrawls some jargon on the walls and takes her leave.

Jack Nicholson lived in a sitcom house. Champagne doesn’t dull the pain but what about 13 year old pussy. The weight of the black box is comforting. It really is an object of beauty, the curved metal perverting the room, the precision of this tool is obvious from its design. Men love anything that is spring loaded, dials, all of that. So satisfactory is the click that he was sure even the teenager liked it when he shot her.

They laid on the bed, time passed, she looked at the ceiling.

Mark walked past the ‘Carnal Knowledge’ actors house, completely oblivious to what was going on inside. He wouldn’t have done anything anyway, little girls didn’t interest him, Jodie Foster could burn in hell for all he cared. A lot of walking later, America’s a wide piece of earth, and he’s on the Upper West Side. Something heavy in his pocket, it’s not a camera but it’s still satisfying to point at people.

Dakota means friend in the languages of some Native Americans. John didn’t know this, neither did Mark. ‘The bang was frighteningly loud, and in such a public place, what kind of mad man would do this?’ thought Rochel Haurlewoj, a 78 year old Russian woman who had immigrated to New York on 29/7/1913 on the SS Vaderland .

‘How’s that?’ John thought. He’d done some good in his life, right?

Amazonian Fembots

“I’m gonna get me a nice blondie” Jeff said to the gang as they wandered across the rain drenched city, its rainbow of neon reflected in puddles and car roofs.

“Oooh so adventurous” Nick teased “you do know there’s more than three colours, ya fag”.

“I don’t like ‘em when they look unnatural” Jeff replied “I saw one with snake eyes once, almost spilled my lunch” A chorus of laughter emerged from the group.

“If you wan’em natural lookin’ why don’t you, y’know’ fuck an actual woman?” Another burst of laughter.

“Listen when you find me an 18 year old girl with tits the size of ya head who wants to get ridden by a fat, bald 40 year old crane operator then I’ll be happy to, but until that day I’ll do it this way.”

Outside Madam Maria’s a group of protestors had gathered, their placards emblazoned with slogans like ‘Liberate your sisters’ or ‘Sex slavery in 2077! Really?’ Jeff shrugged their shouts off with a simple “Psshh” whilst Nick responded to a sign saying ‘Woman aren’t objects’ with “Well these ones are” and laughed his way into the building.

 

Princess Marpesia’s legs ached as she sprinted across the ceaseless rooftops of the vast, glowing city. Her leather sandals slipped as she ran but she kept pace as her time was short. ‘MADAM MARIA’S’ shone like a hot pink beacon, guiding her path, growing closer with ever stride. Mapersia’s hand gripped the cold metal object in her satchel, making sure it was still there, she prayed to the gods it would work. Soon she was at the edge of the final roof before Maria’s, she pushed hard to accelerate and, with all her effort, dove forward off of the building. Rain drops splashed across her face as she shot across the gap between the two structures, her fists pointed towards an opportune window.

Glass shattered around her as she hit the dirty velvet carpet with a thud, splattered with blood she got up and pressed on. Hobbling between rooms she thrust open doors, eyeing up whoever was inside. In the third one sat a fat, balding man in his early forties, his calloused hands suggested he worked on a building site. Next to him lay a tall, slim blonde woman with synthetic skin stretched over enormous breasts. One swift kick to the head left the man unconscious and Marpersia approached to girl who watched her with curiosity, a phony look of childish concern on her face. Marpersia forced the girls head forward and carved the back of her neck out with a small curved blade she had retrieved from her satchel. Without a scream or drop of blood a black cable was inserted into the freshly opened wound.

The silver gadgets screen lit up in the princesses hand, ‘Recalibration in process’ flashed black against the neon blue square.  Crackling started to radiate from the blonde girls swollen pink lips, her expression fell to neutrality. Time was ticking and Marpersia was becoming more and more anxious. “Come on!” she demanded of the gizmo, slapping it with an open palm, she’d never like technology. The girl stopped buzzing and the machine flashed ‘Complete’, the screen went black. With that Marpersia bounded out of the room towards the shattered window she had come through. As she ran naked women, their skin impossibly smooth and their hair glimmering like iridescent jewels, stood in the many doors ways of the thin pink corridor, watching the princess. Leaping out of the window she felt an overwhelming feeling of relief, her sisters would be avenged, her job was completed. As her mind relaxed and her body fell, a faint tick sounded from underneath her skull.

 

Bone fragments and chunks of brain splattered the sides of the building and rained down on the protestors below. A loud thud brought their attention to the limp lifeless body of a tall muscular woman, dressed in what looked like a centurion costume, charred ragged skin hung loose around her neck where her head used to be.