#criticism open

[heyhelloitsmilo]

poll for my hobie enjoyers

have i been drawing him twink enough

NO MAKE HIM MORE TWINKY

meh he could use some work

what?

i think he's alright

what do you mean make him twinkier? he wasn't already?

Voting ended onMar 13, 2024

i cant believe i set yhis for a week...... i have to wait until next wednesday for this shit............ god

lack of foresight on my part...... i forgot how impatient i am

[pentopapertokeyboard]

The Stand Up

So this was an idea floating around my head for a little while, It didn’t come out exactly like I thought it would, but still Its written down and that is all that matters.

so without further ado my short story, The Stand Up

Richie Williams was on fire. However to the hundreds of thousands people watching him, that was just par the course. Richie had been on fire since 2011 with his breakout stand up special “Laugh And The World  Laughs At You” for of course that is what Richie was, a stand up comedian. Well, not just a stand up comedian, THE stand up comedian, THE top selling stand up comedian 7 years running, and seemingly never to stop. Everywhere he went he sold out within the first 5 minutes, and he was apparently booked for a solid three years. Richie was on top of the world.

Sweat lined his brow, but that never stopped him. Stand up was his life, his very purpose, and he was damn good at it. Tonight’s audience was particularly in high spirits which always helped things run a lot smoother. In the first five minutes Richie was able to single out a rather unique laugh and play along with the person to whom it belonged, and move on expertly without any hurt feelings. In the next 20 minutes he was running all around the stage in pantomime of his late mother who found the rodent little Richie had found, and the audience was in stitches. By the last 10 minutes of his show the tears of joy would not stop flowing freely from his patrons and by the end each and every person knew they would remember the night they saw Richie Williams live. Michelle Wynn would always remember that night for a distinctly different reason.

Michelle had stood at the stage door for 40 minutes before declaring it a bust. Richie had obviously gone out a different route, but Michelle’s child like hope had kept her there late into the night, eager for a glimpse of her hero. Michelle, like Richie, is a stand up comic, and also like Richie, wasn’t too bad at it either. However, unlike Richie, Michelle was always stuck in small bars and school gymnasiums. She wished nothing more to meet the man she looked up to in order to ask him one question….How? How did he become the biggest thing almost overnight? How did he become so good at what he does?…maybe she had more than just one question to ask, but none of that mattered now. Richie had never shown, and it was time for Michelle to make her exit, and besides she was rather hungry now.

She had soon found herself in a small sandwich shop that she frequented rather often, usually due to the late hours it held, and partly due to the rather cute cashier that always happened to work when she was hungry. Beside her was a small breakfast sandwich, a sweet tea, and worn leather bound book. As she ate her frustrations at the missed opportunity melted away and soon she was laughing and joking with Nicole behind the registrar. She was having so much fun that she completely missed the man who had sat almost next to her. It wasn’t until he spoke up with a mirth filled “Well hello! Whats put the two of you in such good spirits this fine fine night?” that Michelle even noticed he was there. It took even longer (partly due to the shock and having to catch her breath) that she realized that the stranger was none other than Richie Williams himself.

Shock is one way to describe how Michelle felt at that time. Complete and utter disbelief, and rather angry that he would bother to show himself now is what she would describe herself. No matter how she looked at him tho he would not fade like a ghost in the night so Michelle knew he was real and actually there. Her silence soon gave way to noise in the form of questions. The usual in this situation were “What are you doing here?,  “How did you escape the crowds?”, and “Oh my god is it really you?”. Unable to decide on which of these to pick, she decided not to be picky and went with all three at pretty much the same time. Suffice to say her usually cool demeanor had melted. Mr. Williams (as Michelle kept calling him), took all in good stride and explained that yes it was truly him and that he had waited in the theater before sneaking out a small door on the side of the building before changing at his hotel room after which he began to prowl for late night food. The only question Nicole has for him was “what can I get you?” which he also answered swiftly.

The shop had stayed open late in order to catch the rush of people from the William’s show, but due to either bad location or just plain bad luck, no one else entered the shop. After a devouring his entire sandwich in less than 5 minutes, Richie and Michelle began to talk in a more casual cadence that one takes in a local sandwich shop approaching 1am. Richie learned about Michelle’s hopes at stand up and that she wasn’t too bad a writer. Michelle learned that Richie liked to roam after a show and eat at the local spots and listen in on what people thought of his show. They talked about such things for quite a while until Richie happened to notice the worn leather book at Michelle’s side. He inquired as to its contents and received the reply of “stuff”. He inquired again with hints of teasing and Michelle relented with the truth. The book was her stand up act, everything in it now and jokes she wished to include in the future. It was a sacred thing that she has never shown another human being, and yet she offered it to Richie.

Richie read the journal, firstly with a straight face that soon lent its ways to chuckles…then full blown guffaws. Michelle’s heart beat faster than it had ever before. Here was a master, reading and loving her work. Richie jumped pages, seemingly at random, always finding the best bits and soon he had more than his fill. Now Richie asked her a question. “When is your next gig?” it turned out for the first time in a long time Richie had found himself with a hold in his schedule that allowed him to stay in town for a while. Michelle stuttered out the destiny laden words, “next Sunday”, and Richie smiled, handed her journal back, asked for the details , said “See you next Sunday then”, and left in the cold, windless pitch black of night.

Sunday could not come quick enough. Michelle spent all her extra time working on her material  and her delivery, often ignoring basic things like homework, and food. Even though this show was in the nearly always empty “Highland Bar”, Michelle felt that this would be her best show yet. Sure she was just an amateur, but she always seemed to connect just right with whatever audience she had, and she was hoping that would be true soon enough. The days seemed to fly by like the rusted car you sometimes find in people’s backyards, but finally it arrived.

For all the hard work she had put in in the week, Michelle doubled it that night and soon had the entire bar (about 10 people give or take) laughing deep into their drinks. As much as she tried not to listen, she soon found her ear latched on to the sound of Richie Williams laughter. It was hard not to hear it, for it was soon the loudest thing in the bar, and Michelle could not help but smile. She was having fun, she really was. She could see her jokes made people laugh, and her stories hit at the heart. True she was having a really great night, however she could not help but think how far she had come. Soon the lights dimmed and her set was over, and there was Richie waiting to speak. They talked pleasantries for a while, but soon Richie invited her to his hotel with promises of furthering her career.

For the first time that night, dread hit her.

Dread could not keep her away. This was everything she had worked for, all those years of people claiming that her dreams would never work, that it was all a waste. She would finally prove them wrong, all she had to do was…go to a hotel alone with a virtual stranger. Tension built up in her neck, stress lined her face. She had no idea what she was in for but she knew whatever it was it was not good. Of course everyone had heard about the so called casting couch. The thing all people supposedly do to get their own show or special. Was she prepared to go that far? Would it be her own choice when it came down to it? These thoughts consumed her the entire trip, and Richie’s words floated over her like debris in a lake. In no time at all they had arrived at his hotel at the edge of town.

The two unusual people made their way to the elevator and went straight up. Richie’s never ending smile annoyed Michelle and she frantically tried to find a way out of her seemingly dire situation. No idea came to mind and less than 5 minutes later they were entering the room. A large queen sized bed dominated the room, a two small bedside tables, each with their own lamps stood like guards on either side of the bed. The usual hotel desk and chair combo was pushed over near the balcony, apparently unused .A small abandoned travel bag lay carelessly in the corner with all manner of clothing hanging from it. Richie led Michelle in, locked the door, and offered her a seat.

Richie stood like a wall, perfectly between her and the door. Feeling miscible Michelle sat in the chair that was offered to her and awaited her fate. A brief moment of silence passed while Richie made sure no one was around….and then…. he did something that surprised Michelle. No talk came of sleep or lovemaking, no talk of casting couches. Instead, Richie sat down and started to speak.  He talked softy but quickly, making each point as if to a baby. What he said was,

“Listen, I’ve been doing comedy for many many years, much longer than just these past seven. I was just like you, young and vibrant, so full of potential. I did my time in the bars and school gyms, at the bar mitzvahs and business parties. I was where you are right now, in the Hotel room of the greatest comic of the time. And he told me exactly what I am here to tell you right now… laughter is a gift to the world, it is joy and happiness and at the very center of it…it is love. When you bring laughter to people you, in a very unique way are showing your love for that person, and in turn they show their love to you. It is such a beautiful thing to do because when there is laughter, in that briefest of moments, there is no sorrow, no worries or fears. You remove all the pain that person has, all the hurt and anger and sadness…you give them a gift.”

Richie was talking faster with every word, spilling his truth like he had not spoken to anyone in years. He became more and more frantic, and Michelle started to worry again, but he continued.

“But…but nothing in life is free, you hear that all the time and it is certainly true. When I started I didn’t know the consequences, what it would entail…not fully. You see, you may take all the hurt and pain…but it doesn’t go away…it has to go somewhere…so I was taught to take it unto myself…”

At this Richie reached up to the back of his neck, slowly as if to not scare the small animal perched in front of himself.

“You do it yourself…unconsciously of course. But since your crowds are so…small, the most you would feel is a little exhausted after a show…nothing too bad….but as for me, playing for crowds of thousands…its a bit different.”

His hands slid over his face…pulling…sliding the skin along with it. Underneath the mask lay a blackened, emaciated, weathered face, like one of the corpses caught in Mt. Everest’s embrace. The horrible visage stared at Michelle, daring a reaction, but none came. She sat in absolute shock, out of all the things to happen to her tonight, she did not think that her hero would remove his face, or that a monster would be hiding underneath. Words attempted to trickle out but all were cut off by the next thought barging thru. It was too much, too much for her to comprehend, to want to understand. So she chose not too, and struck out with her fist, which caught him just below the jaw and sent him sprawling.

Michelle ran for the door, attempting with all her might to pull it open using force alone. All rational had fled, no need for locks or even the turning of the handle itself, she was in full panic. Slowly the blackened face to rose from the ground it had found itself and righted itself with some difficulty. He lurched forward pulling her from the door and pinning her against the wall, his words were hurriedly whispered and slightly slurred from the attack.

“LISTEN TO ME…I am not here to attack you or cause you any harm…although that would be a far better fate than what I am here for…I’ve seen you, I’ve seen your heart and what I saw impressed me. You wish to make people laugh to bring enjoyment into their lives! It is very much the same reason why I started!! Not for the fame or money, but just for the sake of the laughter. Now…i’ve been going on too long…the stain is too much and I will not last forever…I’m at deaths door now and he is waving a warm welcome in his kiss the cook apron and I would very much like to be there…so i’m offering you a choice…”

Fear still stood strong in her heart, but at least she had calmed down enough to understand what He was saying. Although it was hard to concentrate with the decaying face in front of her she somehow managed to squeak out “a choice?”

“I need a successor….to keep the people laughing…and they need it more than ever…I cannot do it much longer…I need someone else. But know this even though I offer you everything you dreamed of, it is not a gift, but a curse. To willingly take on the pain of all those who come to see you, to become the healer of the people. Yes it will change you as I have been… It will be a painful existence…but you will be helping…”

His voice trailed off, seemingly loosing steam, loosing his cause in his own head. She could tell everything he said was true, like it was something she had been taught since kindergarten, she just knew. But still she was having a hard time concentrating.

“Can you please put your face back on?”

She didn’t even mean to say it, but at the time it was the only thing she was thinking of. After a hurtful glance and about five minutes in the bathroom, Richie was looking like his old self again. And in that five minutes, Michelle pondered her situation. Could she do something like this? Is this what her dream meant? What her hard work had progressed to? She knew the answer to all this, but she hated even thinking it. What right did the world have to take that much from her? She wanted to scream out, she wanted to shout and push Richie down the stairs, she wanted to do a lot of things. She immediately turned towards the fixed up comedian and said “OK.”

12 months later and Michelle thought about everything that had happened to get her to this point. Sure she had been fast tracked a little, but she still put in a lot of hard work. Her first special was due to start in no less than five minutes. She had spent the morning talking to Richie and even remembered to put fresh flowers on his grave this time.  She didn’t know if she would ever get used to this, but she knew she was happy, she knew what her job meant to everyone. She spent the next few minutes preparing herself mentally awaiting her introduction. When her name was finally shouted out she ran full force on the stage and the crowd erupted with applause, and Michelle’s body erupted with unbearable pain.

[pentopapertokeyboard]

The Music Box

Its been harder and harder for me to write these last couple of days but I finally finished this story, its rough and not well put together but at least its something. As always critiques are welcome.

         Megan didn’t know how long she had been there? A few hours? A few days? Possibly a week? She didn’t know and right now she didn’t care, it was the least of her worries.

They were always told to avoid the woods by their parents, oh yes they were told. The younger generation chalked these down to old wives tales and stories meant to scare them into submission. Those woods are full of wolves, those woods are full of old traps, those woods have sinkholes in them, among the millions of other dangers parents told of the woods. The woods were said to be dangerous, but that didn’t stop them from camping in there every summer. Megan and her friends always camped around the same spot, and they weren't the only ones either. Kids from all over town always found their way into the woods at some time in their lives, it was almost a rite of passage. Megan desperately wished she had listened.

    As she thought this her body twisted along with the music, one hand forward, the opposite leg stretching in the counter direction.

    It had started so innocently, just a fun night camping before all her friends went off for their different colleges. She was even more glad that Kat, her best friend had finally decided to come out tonight, and she actually seemed to be having fun.That's all it was supposed to be...fun.

    She jumped in the air legs spreading in opposite directions before landing perfectly together, arms tucked near her body.

   She wasn’t even aware that people started going missing, a lot of people came out tonight, 23...or maybe 24 people came out to drink, party, and dance the night away.

    She turned and twisted, arms splayed out in front of her.

    It was pretty late when she first noticed something was wrong. The party seemed to be dwindling, but the tents were empty. Perfectly set up, but disturbingly empty. Then she heard the scream.

    The song reached a crescendo and megan was forced to clap along.

    Kats scream punctuated the silent air. Megan was sure it was her and started running towards the source. Others seemed confused and frightened, for some reason everyone seemed to think it was someone different.

    A circle formed and everyone started to move their torsos left and right in rhythm their feet planted firmly.  

    Megan ran as fast as she could. She could hear others from the party trying to follow as best they could. Twigs snapped from behind her and heavy footsteps pounded the dirt. Before long they arrived at a cave.

    The circle started moving, everyone to the left for a few steps, then to the right. Their feet matching the rhythm.

    It was nothing more than a crack in the dirt that seemed to have been open during the unusually heavy rain that had hit the town. She heard Kat again, deep in that dark hole, barely a whisper that was helped along by the echoing cave walls. It was one word that sent megan into a panicked frenzy.

     “Help”

    Everyone separated and weaved in and out of each other, locking arms with each other as they passed.

    As she had clambered in side she could hear the others just getting to the mouth of the entrance, yelling for her to stop, and wait for help. She couldn’t wait, Kat was in trouble, and so she plunged into the darkness.

    Megan began to twirl by herself once more before being caught by a partner and held close in his arms..  

    The further down she went it got darker and darker, and she soon had to rely on her phone light just to make her way. Soon she began to hear something she did not expect. It was soft and low and and seemed to come from just around a corner. It was music.

    Soon she ran and jumped into awaiting arms, and was lifted every so gracefully before being slowly turned around on outstretched arms, like an ornament hanging from a tree.

   As she rounded the corner she stepped into a large open space about as big as a  football field, but rounded.  There was light here emanating from what seemed to be a cluster of moss and plants dangling from the ceiling, bathing the area in a soft blue light, easily enough to see by.

    She hung in the air for a few seconds and time seemed to slow, all around her others were being lifted until the entire area was filled with floating figures.

Looking down she saw figures dancing around a pillar upon which sat a small wooden box with ornate golden carvings etched along the sides, its lid currently hung open. It was from this box that the music was emanating, a slow almost somber song that needled at the back of Megan's mind. Just beyond the pillar and its box, on the opposite end of the open area from where Megan now stood, was a large dark wooden set of doors, similar carvings adorned these doors as well. On of the dancers passed by her view and to her relief Megan saw the familiar figure that was Kat.

          Megan’s pointed toes soon found their way back to solid ground and soon she was off again, she never looked down and so never even saw her partner.

    Filled with relief for her friend….she made her first mistake. She crossed into the cave.

    She looked around her at the sea of smiling faces, but those smiles never reached their eyes. One foot forward, same foot back, arms counterbalancing.

   As soon as she crossed it was like she could really hear the music, sure she heard it before, but now it was so crisp and clear.

    Soon she was back in a circle, albeit smaller now, and in perfect synchronization, she twisted body and arms so that the dancers seemed to make beautiful giant flowers. Beautiful flowers with bloodshot eyes and tears.

    She began to run towards Kat, towards her best friend. A step, another, and another, then her steps became light, a skip here, another, until she was skipping like a child again towards the person she thought she would never see again.

   The flowers opened and closed their petals in a wave, arms and fingers twinkling in the blue light. She knew they could not speak, but their eyes were screaming in calm faces.

    She was so close to her now, and so much closer to the music, it was loud and overpowering. She reached out and instead of hugging her like she intended, her hand clasped Kat’s closely and Kat twirled under Megan’s outstretched arm.

    There were so many more people than when she started. As the flower started to dissipate she could see some of her fellow campers, a couple of local policemen, and bright orange jackets that she could only assume were search and rescue units. All of them were currently on one foot with arms reaching inwards.

    The pinpricks reached further and further up her spine until her entire body was enveloped. When Kat saw her, her eyes opened ever so slightly, fresh tears streaming down her face, but her expression was one of serenity, not fear. Without saying a word, Kat leaped away before Megan felt herself tugged in opposite directions. That was the start.

    Kat was no more, nor had she been for quite sometime. She was one of the first to leave….to be taken by the thing that lurked behind the door. It seemed to not even notice the music, its very own spider web. It was always the same, the music would slow...then stop altogether. Then the door would creak open...and it would shuffle out. Megan never saw it fully, it always seemed to be just out of vision. Her head craned painfully up or twisted toward the wall. What she did manage to see and hear terrified her.

    The first time it came out she had no Idea what was happening, the music ceased and so did her movements, and the doors creaked open. She had heard its heavy footfalls and saw out of the corner of her eye a tuft of coarse, dark hair or perhaps fur. It was followed by snorting and grunting, like a giant pig. It sniffed near one of the unmoving bodies and after a few minutes of picking, it seemed to make a decision and dragged someone off….without a sound .That was all she ever saw of it. Every time since she happened to be looking at a wall or far into the distance, as if it had given her but a taste of what was to come, and that was all.

    Megan was snapped back to reality with the now familiar slowing down of The Music Box. Like a dying animatronic her movements slowed until her body finally crawled to a stop. Spine curved toward the ceiling, head following. She had an skyward view and was facing the only exit, an exit she would never use. The door slowly creaked open.

    The grunts followed the loud creaks and it became impossible to not feel her own heart in her chest. It seemed to take its time moving from person to person, trying to find the best meal? She didn't know what actually happened behind that door but that is the only thing she could think of. She was tired, sweat soaking thru the faded hoodie she had decided to wear for the party, she regretted her attire. It had been weeks….she thinks...since she came to this god forsaken place and she had not rested...not once since she got there. Neither had anybody else around her that she could see.

     A icy hot pain in jolted her out of her mind. Her extended calf was on fire, it felt like daggers had pierced her leg and was slowly trying to rip it off. It made two quick tugs and she felt herself start to tip forward. Her arms not responding she landed square on her jaw, her mouth started to fill with the metal taste of blood, her head swam and it took a while before she could focus once more.

     When her head did clear she could see that she was a lot farther from the door that she had been before. All eyes and heads were turned away from her….from her predicament. A darkness seemed to swallow her and the doors shut…there was a horrible silence….and then she heard through the thick doors the familiar song...but still she did not move...she felt nothing at all….that is until she felt the thick teeth rip into her leg once more...this time without the intent of just moving her...and yet she still could not scream. And the music continued to play.