SeeSpeakHear
02-14-2009, 6:58 PM
I mean short, only just over 1000 words. Got bored, started writing a dialouge, ended up with this. It's pretty simple to get through, have a go.
Oh, and hi again everyone who remembers me.
Here it is:
“Steve... STEVE! Wake up!”
“Hrmm... What?”
“They’re escaping!”
Steve and Tim’s tenure working at the maximum security prison had been slow and uneventful, which, they both agreed, was a bit disappointing. There had been no riots, no shankings, no bird-men, no hilariously named mice, and no decade spanni ng escape plans involving rock hammers and posters of old movie starlets. The prisoners trickled out in dribs and drabs and Steve and Tim wiled away their evening watch playing scrabble and taking it in turns on Tetris. But tonight was different, tonight, a mass jailbreak was happening.
“What? How did they get out?” Steve clammered, only now moving his favourite spinning desk chair into an upright position.
“How should I know, I was asleep!” Tim spat back, and he too readied himself for an as-of-yet undecided plan of attack.
“You were asleep too?”
“Well you said ‘I’m going to take a quick nap.’ What was I supposed to do?”
“What were you supposed to wait for me to wake up then you nap afterwards!”
“...Ok, that makes sense I suppose.” Tim conceded. They sat in silence for a few seconds, until Steve concluded that this small victory would in no way contribute to solving their problem.
“Right. Ok. Right...” Steve said, trying to grip their predicament. “How many of them are escaping?”
“All of them.”
“Shit. Ok. Right. Ok... Where are they escaping from?”
“The entrance.”
“The entrance? You can’t escape through the entrance!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s the entrance! You don’t exit through an entrance! That’s so... I don’t know, unsporting!”
“Steve, these people are murderers and rapists and thieves and vagabonds and paedophiles. Sporting doesn’t hold much with their set.”
“Good point. So they’re heading through the entrance. Then they’re—Y’know, that’s still not sitting right with me.”
Tim sighed, and slid down in his chair, pinching his temple between his thumb and forefinger. It was going to be a long night. But nights where all the inmates of a maximum security prison escaped were seldom anything else. He assumed. This didn’t happen often, or ever, really. Tim then felt a sudden sensation that he was lucky. But it quickly subsided.
“Right, so all we’ve learned so far is that the hundreds of criminals currently running amok in the world we’ve just released them into, who are now, at this point, probably raping and pillaging their way across the city, have found one more use for our entrance door. Hoo-fucking-ray.”
“Alright! At least I’m trying to solve this! What’re you adding to the proceedings? Nothing! C’mon then, what’s your big plan?”
“Well, we should... um... my plan is—“
“Non-existent. I knew it. How about this, you think of a plan, and I’ll sit here, watching all the maniacs misuse our entrance door, all the time quietly weeping onto the monitors.”
After two good friends have exchanged harsh words, there’s always a long awkward silence and an uneasy atmosphere as you both sit there in your own self-important huff. Dramatists tend to sweep stationery from tables or set things on fire. But most people I know are too apathetic to try anything like that, and rarely have another set of friends to hang out with instead. So incidents like this are quickly resolved. It’s after an allotted period of time such as this that we take up our tale.
“...How about this;” Tim ventured. “We shut off the power at the entrance. That way, the emergency system will kick in and the entrance will go into lockdown, preventing any more escaping!”
Steve sat their in silence for a beat. It was a good idea.
“Ok, good plan. Where’s the fuse box?”
“Fuse box? Don’t we have a cool red button or a switchboard or a set of keys, and we both have to turn a key at the same time, and I get to yell ‘MARK!’ or something?”
“No, it’s all via the fuse box.”
“Oh. We should look into that. Anyway, it’s around there.”
Steve wandered into the corridor and mooched around until he found the fuses. They were labelled, which was handy, and as he moved his hand to the entrance fuse, he hesitated.
“Tim!”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to yell ‘MARK!’?”
“...Thanks man.”
“Ok, ready?”
“Yup. And... MARK!”
With that, Steve and Tim were plunged into darkness. Apparently the electrician did not have the foresight to put the guardroom on a different circuit.
“Blackout!” Steve yelled.
“Really? What was your first clue? I thought my blinks were taking longer than usual.”
“I’ll just turn it back on. The lockdown shouldn’t reboot automatically.”
The lights and monitors hummed back into life, and both Steve and Tim huddled around the monitors to see if they were successful. They were; the shutters were down.
“Victory! I knew we’d do it!”
“Steve. They’re now going out the back door.”
“Oh. Well at least that’s more conventional.”
“Great, the world makes sense again, let’s all have punch!”
“How about the electric fence out the back? They can’t get past that right? That’s still back there?”
“It’s still there, but according to the readout it was on the same fuse as the entrance and blew when the power came back on.”
“We need to get this placed rewired when this is over.”
“Agreed.”
They paused, drumming their fingers on the table as they tried to think of solutions. As neither of them had super-powers, all of Steve’s ideas were deeply flawed.
“How about we crack out the riot gear?” Tim suggested. “We’ve got rubber bullets and riot shields and gas canisters that could be quite annoying. Whistles as well.”
“Good idea, I can only see one flaw; that’d involve us bravely heading into a mob of angry criminals with smoke, bouncy balls and shrill noises. Being overweight and cowardly as I am, I can’t say I’m that keen.”
“So what shall we do?”
“I propose this: We hide in the stationery cupboard until this all blows over.”
“Sounds pathetic. Let’s go.”
That is what Steve and Tim did. They took the remaining hob-nobs, and Tim’s flask of Kenco and headed for closetville. After much squabbling and defecating in corners, Steve and Tim were discovered by the prison's Governor. We join them in his office, where Steve and Tim are expecting their marching orders, and by marching orders, I mean firing, and not orders to march.
“Gentlemen,” The Governor began, relaxing in his faux-leather chair, a fat cigar between his fingers and a sheet of data in his grasp. “Last night’s breakout devastating to this prison. We’ve lost 96% of the inmate population, the front door was severely misused, and someone did a shit in a cupboard.” Steve and Tim attempted to look non-chalant. “Having said this, this is the most efficient the prison has ever been. The remaining 4% of prisoners are passive and respond well when the guards make passes at them. For your service to our institution, we would like to present you with this 6-day pass to the log flumes in the water park. Enjoy them gentlemen, you’ve earned it. Now get out of my office, the sight of you physically repulses me.”
They exited the room as the Governor began nibbling his elbows. Steve and Tim had overcome adversity and improper toilet facilities and been showered with the highest praise available in their fields- Water park passes.
“That went unbelievably well!” Steve said, marvelling at his water park tickets.
“I know!” Tim replied. “I’m feeling pretty good about leaning on the cell door release button now.”
***
So there you go, hope you don't think you've wasted your life.
Oh, and hi again everyone who remembers me.
Here it is:
“Steve... STEVE! Wake up!”
“Hrmm... What?”
“They’re escaping!”
Steve and Tim’s tenure working at the maximum security prison had been slow and uneventful, which, they both agreed, was a bit disappointing. There had been no riots, no shankings, no bird-men, no hilariously named mice, and no decade spanni ng escape plans involving rock hammers and posters of old movie starlets. The prisoners trickled out in dribs and drabs and Steve and Tim wiled away their evening watch playing scrabble and taking it in turns on Tetris. But tonight was different, tonight, a mass jailbreak was happening.
“What? How did they get out?” Steve clammered, only now moving his favourite spinning desk chair into an upright position.
“How should I know, I was asleep!” Tim spat back, and he too readied himself for an as-of-yet undecided plan of attack.
“You were asleep too?”
“Well you said ‘I’m going to take a quick nap.’ What was I supposed to do?”
“What were you supposed to wait for me to wake up then you nap afterwards!”
“...Ok, that makes sense I suppose.” Tim conceded. They sat in silence for a few seconds, until Steve concluded that this small victory would in no way contribute to solving their problem.
“Right. Ok. Right...” Steve said, trying to grip their predicament. “How many of them are escaping?”
“All of them.”
“Shit. Ok. Right. Ok... Where are they escaping from?”
“The entrance.”
“The entrance? You can’t escape through the entrance!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s the entrance! You don’t exit through an entrance! That’s so... I don’t know, unsporting!”
“Steve, these people are murderers and rapists and thieves and vagabonds and paedophiles. Sporting doesn’t hold much with their set.”
“Good point. So they’re heading through the entrance. Then they’re—Y’know, that’s still not sitting right with me.”
Tim sighed, and slid down in his chair, pinching his temple between his thumb and forefinger. It was going to be a long night. But nights where all the inmates of a maximum security prison escaped were seldom anything else. He assumed. This didn’t happen often, or ever, really. Tim then felt a sudden sensation that he was lucky. But it quickly subsided.
“Right, so all we’ve learned so far is that the hundreds of criminals currently running amok in the world we’ve just released them into, who are now, at this point, probably raping and pillaging their way across the city, have found one more use for our entrance door. Hoo-fucking-ray.”
“Alright! At least I’m trying to solve this! What’re you adding to the proceedings? Nothing! C’mon then, what’s your big plan?”
“Well, we should... um... my plan is—“
“Non-existent. I knew it. How about this, you think of a plan, and I’ll sit here, watching all the maniacs misuse our entrance door, all the time quietly weeping onto the monitors.”
After two good friends have exchanged harsh words, there’s always a long awkward silence and an uneasy atmosphere as you both sit there in your own self-important huff. Dramatists tend to sweep stationery from tables or set things on fire. But most people I know are too apathetic to try anything like that, and rarely have another set of friends to hang out with instead. So incidents like this are quickly resolved. It’s after an allotted period of time such as this that we take up our tale.
“...How about this;” Tim ventured. “We shut off the power at the entrance. That way, the emergency system will kick in and the entrance will go into lockdown, preventing any more escaping!”
Steve sat their in silence for a beat. It was a good idea.
“Ok, good plan. Where’s the fuse box?”
“Fuse box? Don’t we have a cool red button or a switchboard or a set of keys, and we both have to turn a key at the same time, and I get to yell ‘MARK!’ or something?”
“No, it’s all via the fuse box.”
“Oh. We should look into that. Anyway, it’s around there.”
Steve wandered into the corridor and mooched around until he found the fuses. They were labelled, which was handy, and as he moved his hand to the entrance fuse, he hesitated.
“Tim!”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to yell ‘MARK!’?”
“...Thanks man.”
“Ok, ready?”
“Yup. And... MARK!”
With that, Steve and Tim were plunged into darkness. Apparently the electrician did not have the foresight to put the guardroom on a different circuit.
“Blackout!” Steve yelled.
“Really? What was your first clue? I thought my blinks were taking longer than usual.”
“I’ll just turn it back on. The lockdown shouldn’t reboot automatically.”
The lights and monitors hummed back into life, and both Steve and Tim huddled around the monitors to see if they were successful. They were; the shutters were down.
“Victory! I knew we’d do it!”
“Steve. They’re now going out the back door.”
“Oh. Well at least that’s more conventional.”
“Great, the world makes sense again, let’s all have punch!”
“How about the electric fence out the back? They can’t get past that right? That’s still back there?”
“It’s still there, but according to the readout it was on the same fuse as the entrance and blew when the power came back on.”
“We need to get this placed rewired when this is over.”
“Agreed.”
They paused, drumming their fingers on the table as they tried to think of solutions. As neither of them had super-powers, all of Steve’s ideas were deeply flawed.
“How about we crack out the riot gear?” Tim suggested. “We’ve got rubber bullets and riot shields and gas canisters that could be quite annoying. Whistles as well.”
“Good idea, I can only see one flaw; that’d involve us bravely heading into a mob of angry criminals with smoke, bouncy balls and shrill noises. Being overweight and cowardly as I am, I can’t say I’m that keen.”
“So what shall we do?”
“I propose this: We hide in the stationery cupboard until this all blows over.”
“Sounds pathetic. Let’s go.”
That is what Steve and Tim did. They took the remaining hob-nobs, and Tim’s flask of Kenco and headed for closetville. After much squabbling and defecating in corners, Steve and Tim were discovered by the prison's Governor. We join them in his office, where Steve and Tim are expecting their marching orders, and by marching orders, I mean firing, and not orders to march.
“Gentlemen,” The Governor began, relaxing in his faux-leather chair, a fat cigar between his fingers and a sheet of data in his grasp. “Last night’s breakout devastating to this prison. We’ve lost 96% of the inmate population, the front door was severely misused, and someone did a shit in a cupboard.” Steve and Tim attempted to look non-chalant. “Having said this, this is the most efficient the prison has ever been. The remaining 4% of prisoners are passive and respond well when the guards make passes at them. For your service to our institution, we would like to present you with this 6-day pass to the log flumes in the water park. Enjoy them gentlemen, you’ve earned it. Now get out of my office, the sight of you physically repulses me.”
They exited the room as the Governor began nibbling his elbows. Steve and Tim had overcome adversity and improper toilet facilities and been showered with the highest praise available in their fields- Water park passes.
“That went unbelievably well!” Steve said, marvelling at his water park tickets.
“I know!” Tim replied. “I’m feeling pretty good about leaning on the cell door release button now.”
***
So there you go, hope you don't think you've wasted your life.