Monthly Archives: July 2012

That Talky Laughy Random Fing Episode 5

To read That Talky Laughy Random Fing from the beginning, click here.

To read the last episode, click here.

THE STORY SO FAR: Howard Richy falls in love with the… Erm… fit Linda Maizen. James Mattinson has a throat condition, possibly caused by moaning too much, but… Linda turns out to be a cow and she storms out. James lets slip about Friday’s upcoming court case with Lee Martin and she also storms out.

Chapter One

“Friday! Friday, wait!”
The teenager was fast. She never ran, at least not indoors, but her marching was just as fast and James had to jog to keep up. She didn’t slow down and James only caught her in the lift when she finally stopped. Not looking at him, Friday stabbed the button for the underground car park and waited in silence for the doors to close.
“Look, Friday, don’t worry,” James said, “Madison won’t tell anyone. She’s the one who I would trust my life with, other than you.”
“It’s not that you told Madison,” Friday snapped, “And it’s not that you almost started a fight on live television. It’s the fact you seem insistant on causing more issues when I already have enough with Mr Martin and Adam and your Cathy.”
“I don’t mean to, Friday,” James began, but before he could even try to explain, the lift opened and Friday marched out. Before she could reach James’ car in the far corner, he unlocked it with the key fob, allowing her into the front seat.
“You have to teach me to drive when I get my learner’s permit.” she said.
“And not until. Look, Friday. I’m sorry about you and Cathy. I know you don’t like it being a secret but…”
“Cathy’s dad would kill you, I know.” Friday said, “Can you just drive? I need to clear my head. They can do the show without us.”
Carefully, James pulled out of the carpark. Having worked with her since she was thirteen, James knew exactly where Friday wanted to go. He’d never thought to ask why she always went to the same chip shop. Now didn’t really seem to be the time.
“It’s not just your fault, James,” she said after a while of sitting in silence, “I do know that.”
“I’m going to help, Friday,” James insisted, “I promise.”
“I know, James. Thanks, but…”
But. It was Adam. They were a treo, although Adam hated James’ guts and James wasn’t too fond of him either. The man was a lunatic with no sense of self control, but he supported Friday and she liked him.
James stopped at a red light and Friday groaned.
“If I wasn’t such an innocent, law abiding person, I’d tell you to just go right now.” she admitted.
James grinned. “You mean, if you weren’t toeing the line because of Martin?”
“Well, we’re – what? – five yards away.”
“I wouldn’t say five yards.”
“And this red light has been on for half an hour.”
“Half an hour, Friday?”
“Look, I can see the shop.”
James’ face fell. On the passanger side, a car pulled up. The windows were tinted glass but the driver’s window was rolled down in the warm summer night. A fat, bauld, potato shaped head was perched on the driver’s stubby neck. He was focused on the light. James preyed he didn’t turn his head.
“What?” Friday asked, spinning around to look, but James grabbed her before she could see.
“He works for Cathy’s dad.” James whispered.
The lights turned green before potato man turned around and he rolled on while James turned into the chip shop.
“What’s he doing here?” Friday asked.
“Don’t know.” James said, stuck to hus seat. “Don’t like it.”
Friday opened the door and immediatly the smell of chips distracted her from all else.

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Letters from Davey — Two —

Your right. I will call you niave. I shouldn’t even be replying to you. Not really. But you’re the only person I can talk to who isn’t involved.
You shouldn’t trust me. You really shouldn’t. You don’t know me and, if I were you, I wouldn’t want to. It’s nice that you do and everything and it’s really sweet that you want me to trust you but I can’t.
Your twelve? That’s really young. What are you doing writing about what you do? Where do you get your ideas from?
I love music too. I was at university taking music when I did what I did. Never give up on your dream. Never. I love the steel pan. They always sound so happy. Did you know they’re from the Carrabien? When you play them in the sun they’re so hot you can burn yourself. The drumming sounds like it’s samba. Have you ever heard it at the Brazillian carnivals? It sounds amazing.
Crime isn’t cool, Bethonie. It really isn’t. Going into crime was the worst mistake I ever made in my life. It hurts people, even those so called victimless crimes. Please don’t tell me you’re involved in crime. Never do it. Don’t succum to peer pressure or anything like that. Please.
I probably did underestimate you a little. You do seem to know about friendship and you know about how important it is.
You have a wise head on your shoulders. What you said about ignoring the problem is true. The thing is, if you’re going to try and solve a problem then you need to be listened to. I wasn’t listened to. Speaking to politicians doesn’t work, Bethonie.
You’re so clever, but so niave at the same time. You’re innocent and I like that. Don’t change.

Yours sincerly,
Davey Hertz

Letters to Davey — One —

Dear Davey,

Call me niave or stupid, but I do trust you. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t bother writing to you. And, if I didn’t trust you, then I wouldn’t try so hard to get you to trust me. I don’t know how to make you trust me. I make up lies for fun. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust me. If I tell you more about me, will that help?
I’m twelve years old and I like reading and writing. I like making music, too. I’m in a band called Drumestra. We play steel pan and different types of drums from Brazil. It’s really fun. I can’t remember the name. Something beginning with S. I want to know about crime because it’s cool, isn’t?
Looking after friends is important. I don’t have many, just one really good one. We stick together because, without each other, we’d be alone.
I don’t know why you hate yourself. Killing people is really bad but you could have done something worse. It was a quick death, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if you tourtured them for hours and anyway, ignoring the problem is worse than trying to solve it, even if you get it wrong.
You said you can’t risk going to prison. I’m not tryinv to make you feel bad or anything but surely the Feu was as big a risk as you can get. Why did you do it? Why not just speak to them?

Yours sincerly

Bethonie Waring.

That Talky Laughy Random Fing Episode 4

To read That Talky Laughy Random Fing from the beginning, click here.

To read the last episode, click here.

THE STORY SO FAR: Howard Richy falls in love with the… Erm… fit Linda Maizen. James Mattinson has a throat condition, possibly caused by moaning too much, but… Linda turns out to be a cow and she storms out.

LEFTY: Linda had to, erm, go, which gives us more time to interview our next guest, Steven Maxon.
JAMES: That’s if I don’t die before he gets out.
HOWARD: Wouldn’t that be shame. I’m going to disappear, because Steven, you’re a clever man, right?
STEVEN: Yeah.
HOWARD: See, that just bores me.
JAMES: Don’t worry, we’re probably better off without him.
LEFTY: Steven, it’s absolutly amazing to have you on the show. I am a huge fan.
STEVEN: Thanks, I’m quite a big fan of you too.
LEFTY: You’re a genius. When did you realise you were a genius?
STEVEN: Well, it started off at school. Most kids had football or music or something. I had my little chemestry set. I was fasinated by how things worked. It was brilliant.
JAMES: So you never had music as a kid?
STEVEN: Well yeah, I had music, but it probably wasn’t the same thing you were listening too.
LEFTY: I dunno. James listened to some weird stuff.
STEVEN: I’ve heard what James listened to and it was nothing like that.
LEFTY: How did we start talking about music? Was science always what you wanted to do?
STEVEN: Yeah… well… yeah. I never thought I’d do science on TV or anything. I thought I’d be in a lab for months, staring at some dirt in a test tube, but I made my way onto TV.
LEFTY: So, how did that actually happen? I know less about this than I do about how to get a music contract. Please explain it to me.
STEVEN: I was doing research for a documentary on bacteria. It was a channel six thing and, I must admit, it wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world. The presenter was a pompus little git.
JAMES: He wouldn’t happen to be related to Linda Maizen, would he?
STEVEN: Well, me and my fellow researchers were, ok we were taking the mickey out of him at the time and the producers saw and…
LEFTY: They just hired you on the spot?
STEVEN: Yeah, well, no one liked this git anyway.
JAMES: I’m sorry, I’m just so intreged by your accent. Where are you from?
STEVEN: Well, I was born in Dumfries, where your friend Adam’s from.
JAMES: No wonder you never listen to good music. Adam can’t make good music either.
STEVEN: But then I moved down to London, so I suppose there’s cockney mixed in there too.
JAMES: It’s weird.
LEFTY: Ok, after the break, we’ll be talking some more with the genius that is Steven Maxom and discovering where exactly Howard Richard has gone to. See you in a minuet.

The claxon sounds just as Howard darts down the stairs.
“You’ll never guess who Steven replaced!” he cries, jumping over the last step, “Lee Martin.”
“Lee Martin,” James says thoughtfully, “Oh…”
James, Lefty and Howard all glance at each other, knowing they can’t talk about Lee. Before the situation becomes awkward, though, Madison bounced on stage, pulling James by the shoulder.
“You know Friday isn’t your personal slave,” she says, “Is that stupid water really this important?”
“Well, yeah,” James admits, “Could you tell her the third bottel’s in my bag if that’s what she’s looking for?”
“She’s not very impressed with you,” Madison says “What does she mean when she says she’s got too much on her plate.”
James glances nervously around, then sighs. For some reason, he knows Madison won’t fall for any of his well thought out lies.
“Ok, you know this Lee Martin bloke?” he says, “The one on the radio? Well, he’s trying to sue Friday. Apparently she stole one of his characters. It’s not true, of course, but he’s threatening to take it to the courts.”
“Oh, I never knew,” Madison whispers, “The poor little thing.”
“Well, she doesn’t want anyone to know so…” James says.
“James, your water,” Friday says, “Now don’t die.”
Before Friday can do anything else, Madison crushes her in a hug, trying to comfert the teenager by telling her that it’s going to be ok. Friday works it out immediatly. She pushes Madison away and glares at Howard.
“Was it you?” she snaps.
“Look how she thinks it’s me!” Howard cries, “Well, it wasn’t! It was James.”
She turns on James and he shrinks away. She opens her mouth to speak, but can’t put her anger into words, so storms out. Howard and Lefty watch her go. James shrugs and goes after her.
“What was that about?” Steven asks.