Jesse

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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doc66
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Re: Jesse

Post by doc66 » Tue Apr 07, 2009 12:02 pm

You all are bastards.

I hope to have a section up in the next couple of days. I've been writing between papers and reading boring 19th century prose. On the other hand, I am taking an Anthropology class that I'm having fun in, it's given me a couple of things that I'm going to use in my stories....
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Re: Jesse

Post by Kathy in FL » Tue Apr 07, 2009 4:11 pm

It's not our fault that you are good. :lol: :wink:

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Re: Jesse

Post by Ronin71XS » Tue Apr 07, 2009 6:51 pm

doc66 wrote:You all are bastards.

I hope to have a section up in the next couple of days. I've been writing between papers and reading boring 19th century prose. On the other hand, I am taking an Anthropology class that I'm having fun in, it's given me a couple of things that I'm going to use in my stories....

That's Glorious Bastards to you sir. :wink:
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Re: Jesse

Post by spchtr » Tue Apr 21, 2009 3:58 am

dunno man 2 weeks? I was kinda hoping to hear more about Jesse, seems like a cool kinda guy.
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Re: Jesse

Post by doc66 » Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:17 am

I have half of a section written--I didn't want to post unless I had the whole thing finished.

However, I can tell you all about various forms of poetry, 18th century novels and Population Problems through history and Anthropology. Why did Homos Erectus survive and the Neanderthal not? What were some of the reasons past generations had multiple children and we are actually not producing enough kids to replace ourselves? Was Darcy a bastard or was he just not into society functions? What is the meaning of "One Girl at the Boys Party"?

See what I mean?
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Re: Jesse

Post by colinz » Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:24 am

I hate you Doc.

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Re: Jesse

Post by colinz » Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:25 am

I hate you Doc.

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Re: Jesse

Post by doc66 » Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:30 am

Enough hate to double post.


My job is finished here.

:D
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Re: Jesse

Post by T-Boon » Tue Apr 21, 2009 9:20 am

there's a lot of hatred if it requires a double post !

The way i see it is if the updates by doc are few and far between, it makes them all the higher high :D

turning all into MOAR addict's. !
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Re: Jesse

Post by SimonZayne » Tue Apr 21, 2009 4:04 pm

T-Boon wrote:there's a lot of hatred if it requires a double post !

The way i see it is if the updates by doc are few and far between, it makes them all the higher high :D

turning all into MOAR addict's. !
Don't give him any more excuses to not post.
Doc, don't make me cut you.

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Re: Jesse

Post by Beanhead » Tue Apr 21, 2009 10:50 pm

uh huh....."couple of days"....."half a section finished"......blah, blah, blah.
Omnes ad unum
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Re: Jesse

Post by Cascade Failure » Wed Apr 22, 2009 1:10 am

doc66 wrote:I have half of a section written--I didn't want to post unless I had the whole thing finished.

However, I can tell you all about various forms of poetry, 18th century novels and Population Problems through history and Anthropology. Why did Homos Erectus survive and the Neanderthal not? Because that's just how it is. What were some of the reasons past generations had multiple children and we are actually not producing enough kids to replace ourselves? Who wants to deal with kids? Was Darcy a bastard or was he just not into society functions? Bastard. What is the meaning of "One Girl at the Boys Party"? Entertainment.

See what I mean?


OK, there's your answers. Back to writing you go.

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Re: Jesse

Post by doc66 » Wed Apr 22, 2009 11:58 am

The stench of the undead was nearly overpowering. Jesse knew that exposure to the smell would dull the senses after a while, but the thousands of zombies which hovered around the fencing threatening to tear the links down made for a disgusting odor which penetrated everything in the little compound. It was no longer possible to escape the reek of decay by simply walking inside. The townspeople had even given up trying to block out the odor in favor of opening windows to at least let the air circulate, even if it was laden with the cloying smell of the ghouls.

Worse still, was the constant noise from the horde as it shuffled and pushed. The dead lungs were forced to expand and contract as the things moved and pressed against one another, causing decaying vocal chords to emit strange and horrifying noises. The rattles and squeaks of the dead, the moans and hisses they emanated, filled the air with a constant rumble which drove the people to distraction. Jesse had seen baldy and his crew run from place to place breaking up fights between the stressed survivors as well has having to keep the walls intact. To that end, Jesse and Mitch had donated a thousand rounds of 9mm and the same amount of 5.56. They had not gotten all of their other ammo or food back, but it was the price they were going to have to pay for survival. At least that was the way Jesse was looking at it for the moment.

It was night, the darkness had fallen and was near complete over the land. Even in the failing light, Jesse could see that the horde stretched on for what seemed to be miles. The small trees and vegetation around the compound had been trampled to the ground and all that remained was the taller, more substantial trees, the lower branches nearly stripped from the constant weight and movement of the horde against them. He wondered what had happened to the game in the area, if it had simply run for better ground or if it had been trampled under foot by the massive movement of undead. He supposed that the smaller things like rabbits and such were cowering in holes and knew that when they emerged it would be to a nearly barren landscape which would provide little if any sustenance.

Either way, if the townspeople survived and stayed, they were going to have a very hard time existing in the area. It was nearly the end of the window for planting, and he did not know if they had gotten crops in, and if so, what condition those crops would be after the trampling of the thousands of feet.

From his place atop the Toyota—he had come outside to escape the press of people in the main building—Jesse wondered just how he and Mitch were going to escape the situation they found themselves. As he looked, he could not see a way to either draw the undead away from the gate nor, another avenue of escape that would not leave the rest of the population open to the horde which surrounded them. A part of him supposed he should have been angry and not cared what happened to them, not since their treatment of he and Mitch was what had created this situation for them, but he also knew living humans were now numbered among the failing as a species and any living soul was precious, no matter how he felt about them.

He spooned a mouthful of gruel, the only way he could think of describing the thin mixture of corn meal and wheat berries, from the metal cup into his mouth and chewed. The wheat berries gave the soupy mix texture beyond the mealy rinse of the cornmeal. If left over night, it would thicken and they could fry it, should there be any left over. The supplies at the compound were basic at best and they would not last very long. The few things that the people had thought to bring with them had not lasted beyond the first two days. They were now into day four and Mitch and Jesse had been sneaking parts of their MRE’s to supplement the nutrition that they were not getting from the community meals at the compound. Jesse knew that if they did not leave soon, they were not going to have the strength to do so.

He saw Mitch coming his way and slid off the Toyota’s roof. Mitch joined him on the hood of the vehicle with his own bowl o gruel.

“You’re going to put a big dent in the roof and then we’ll have hell pounding it out,” said Mitch as a greeting.

“Like a dent in the roof is going to stand out,” retorted Jesse, indicating all the other nicks and scrapes on the yellow SUV.

“That’s not the point,” returned Mitch. “The point is that we’ll have rain coming in the cab from a sprung bolt hole or something and it’ll ruin our stuff.”

Jesse spooned another mouthful of the meal and swallowed. “You think we’re gonna have stuff left?”

Mitch shrugged. “I know we’ve got stuff now.”

Grunting, Jesse finished off the food, such as it was. “At least they hadn’t yet gotten into the cargo carrier on top of roof yet. We still have some stuff left.”

“Only because they couldn’t figure out the lock.”

“Count your blessin’s.”

“Truly we are blessed,” muttered Mitch. “You figure a way out of this one yet?”

“Not yet,” admitted Jesse. “I keep hopin’ for inspiration, but so far, all I see is more of the same; undead with no way out of here.”

“Awesome.”

They sat for a few moments in silence while near the fence, someone fired a half dozen rounds which caused the crescendo of the undead moans to nearly overpower any attempt they might have made at conversation. After a while, the sound subsided to its normal din.

“Another runner?” asked Mitch.

“Probably,” agreed Jesse. “Wonder what makes ‘em?”

“Mutations.”

Jesse had nothing to add. In this case the obvious answer was probably the best, after all, viruses could mutate faster than humans could figure out how to destroy them. There was a flurry of activity near a section of the fence and the bulldozer roared to life. Mitch shook his head at the monster vehicle as it rolled toward the activity.

“They’re going to run out of diesel for that thing and be screwed.”

“If they’re screwed, so are we,” pointed out Jesse.

It was then the call came out. “Breach, we’ve been breached!”

People headed in one of two directions, towards the breach, or to the building, depending on their level of commitment to stay alive. Jesse and Mitch cast quick glances at the area where the zombies were gaining a hold in the yard. There were a few people shooting into the mass, not that it did much good, and others were attempting to push yet another section of fencing up so it too would not collapse and allow the undead to enter in greater numbers. The bulldozer was plowing through the bodies, headless of who was in the way as the driver tried to plug the hole in the fence. From their vantage point, Jesse could see that one of the support poles had simply collapsed under the weight of the undead and the falling section had acted as a ramp for the undead to walk up and over, falling into the yard. If the dozer could get a purchase under the section that had collapsed, they might be able to stop the zombies from entering.

Rolling off the Toyota, Jesse shouted to Mitch to get in the Toyota. There was no reason to try and push through the horde without some kind of protection between them and the clutching talons of the ghouls. Already the shooters were being overrun by the sheer number of creatures that were falling and staggering into the compound. Jesse fired up the SUV and with a short prayer to whomever might be listening, pointed it in the direction of the fence. As the roared past the shooters, he could see the surprise on their faces as the yellow vehicle plowed into the mass of undead, knocking the monsters aside, breaking bones and crushing limbs in their attempt to back up the dozer. The driver of the dozer saw them and from his cage protected cab, swung beside them, severing bodies apart the blade of the plow and filling the air with the stench of rotting meat and offal.

Trying to keep his momentum up, Jesse, reached down and switch on the four wheel drive, glad that the previous owner had installed an on-the-fly system in the vehicle. The old 4x4 suddenly grunted as the wheels engaged, finding traction to help pull the front of the SUV through the crush of undead. Beside him, Mitch was selectively shooting the monsters which crawled onto the hood of the Toyota or otherwise managed to latch their fingers through the grating protecting them from grasping hands. When the bodies fell away, Mitch took the small hatchet from the floorboards and chopped the digits off so that the body would drop off the vehicle. Often times he did this without shooting the beasts, simply hacked at the fingers so that the undead could not grab at anything. The floorboards were littered with the results of his efforts, and the dropping digits pattered down on the plastic floor spattering blood in small droplets around their feet. The man was kept busy at this, crawling over the seats front and rear to clear the fiends away so that Jesse could drive as unimpeded as he could.

Once they reached the fence, Jesse veered toward the section of fencing that was still attached to the existing wall, mainly because of a section of plywood which added support. Pointing the Toyota at the plywood, Jesse eased the vehicle under the wood, using the SUV to raise the wood up and press the weight of the undead back out of the compound. The wood cracked and groan, in a section split, but was held in place by the fence it backed. The Toyota rocked as the undead eagerly pushed back, each mindless being trying to reach the objective of warm blood beyond. Using the part they had pressed back into place as a starting point, the bulldozer came up beside them and caught the fence with its blade, pivoting to push the section back into place. The big tracks of the dozer churned up flesh and blood, causing Jesse and Mitch to duck and turn away as the machine ground the bodies beneath its heavy tracks.

Their efforts were rewarded by the stem of the numbers of zombies which managed to struggle through the remaining gap. Another vehicle was driven through the mass of creatures and the hood of the big truck plugged the hole with a crunch of bones caught between the metal of the truck and remaining fencing.

All that were left were those things which roamed the interior of the compound. They had to deal with those before repairs could take place. And honestly, Jesse was not sure how they were going to repair the fence, or keep the undead from collapsing the makeshift barrier again. The supplies they had on hand were limited to what was in the compound, and not much remained. The most obvious answer was to strip out the interior of the buildings for bracing, but once that was gone, they were left with nothing but the buildings themselves.

Mitch collapsed into the passengers seat as groups of people began to hunt down the undead within the compound, killing them with close range pistol shots, hammers and driving over them with the big work trucks. It would be a long while before the job was complete. Jesse wondered just how many people had been killed this time, and also how much ammo was left in the compound, minus what they had stashed away.

“This is only going to get worse,” sighed Mitch, kicking at the fingers scattered at his feet. Jesse brushed one off his seat onto the floor. Off the body of the undead, it was just a dried husk held together by strands of connective tissue. It didn’t even look real. He wiped a few small drops of blood from his cheek, hoping that he was not covered with the stuff; he was just about out of clothing to change into. From the looks of Mitch and the spatters he had on him, Jesse didn’t hope for much.

“I know, but I got nothin’.”

“We’re just going to have to make a break for it.”

“With or without them?” wondered Jesse, speaking about the survivors in the compound with them.

Mitch laughed sarcastically. “We’ll need someone to keep those things off us--.”

Shaking his head, Jesse wondered to himself if it were going to come to that.





The night passed with little fanfare. They put down one zombie which had wandered near the camp. After a few moments of shining flashlights in the things face, it was determined that it had not been a part of the group living in the campground. They then smashed its skull with a hammer and went back inside the circle of campers and RV’s. Morning came and with it was a scent of rain on the air. Jesse found it to be amazing that since they were now living a more “earthy” lifestyle, small changes in the weather, wild game and such could be detected by everyone faster now simply by the scent in the air. Everyone grumbled at the possibility of getting wet as they ate a sparse breakfast of oatmeal with raisins and pine nuts. The dishes were rinsed out and replaced in personal backpacks just as one of the crew announced that she heard engine noise.

Jesse ordered everyone to get into predetermined defensive positions and hurried to the radio in the RV. He powered the thing up just in time to hear the speaker squawk his call sign. Answering, Jesse was informed that the vehicles they had heard were from the Lodge.

“A little early,” commented Jesse.

“Things got going sooner than expected,” said the voice. “Eyre Prime is with us.”

Jesse let out a small laugh. John Davis got tired of being cooped up at the Lodge and used this as an excuse to get away for a while. He hooked the mic and went back out to the rest of his people, telling them to stand down just as the first of the Lodge vehicles arrived. The two groups met outside the circle of campers, Jesse and John shaking hands before ordering a perimeter to be set up. Jesse liked John: he was a former cop and military guy. In his forties, John was under six foot and fairly wide through the upper body even on the Lodge rations, he had been a training officer with his department and with his experience in that as well as his SRT training, he seemed to be a logical choice for the security head. Today John was toting full callout gear with buttpack and ammo load. Jesse said nothing about his gear but wondered what the scare was, other than the camp being empty. They walked back into the small compound while people scurried about.

“So it was like this when you got here?”

“Yep,” said Jesse. “We searched the area around and found nothin’. It’s like they were taken away by freakin’ aliens or somethin’. Couple of the places even had food set out for cookin’.”

Nodding, John walked the inner court. “I brought enough people for three search crews, with your bunch we can get four and still have people left here as a base watch. The mayor and council want some answers as to what might have happened.”

“That was fast,” frowned Jesse. “When was I going to be consulted about my vote? I’m still a council member, aren’t I? Nothing happened while I was gone, no coup or anythin’?”

John managed to look uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Jesse, shit, I just got told that they wanted to know what was up. I guess the security committee heard what was happening and sent me down here.”

“I’m on the security committee,” growled Jesse.

“Dude, I don’t know,” defended John, “I do what is best for the Lodge and what they say as long as it’s within reason. They might have figured since you were here, you’d vote with them?”

Jesse stopped the other man with a hand on his arm. “What else is goin’ on?”

Sighing, John looked away. “You and I haven’t always agreed on shit, but we’ve always gotten along—right?” Jesse nodded for him to continue. “Well, there’s a rumor that you’re pulling up stakes and it kinda pissed some people off. I think they’re gonna move to have you recalled and put someone they like better in your place.”

Fighting down the sudden wave of anger, Jesse took several seconds to form an answer. “First off, if I’m fuckin’ leavin’, I’ll let everyone know up front. Secondly, it’s not their place to replace me with some Goddamn crony: I thought we were trying to get away from that with our government. Whoever takes my place should have the Lodge’s best interest at heart, not the fuckin’ council, not the shitheaded mayor, and certainly not themselves. I worked long and hard to keep that place safe and runnin’, I don’t think anyone can argue with that--.”

“Jesse, I’m the choir here, I’m just telling you because you asked.”

“Right,” agreed Jesse. “I’ll deal with the mayor and the council. Let’s do what we have to do here.”

They called in most of the detail and assigned them sections of the campground to search. Jesse took his group, Mitch, Paula and a kid they called Poop, because of his foul mouth, in their assigned direction, searching out the small campers they found, inside the bathrooms and pavilions.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” exclaimed Poop on one occasion as he opened a camper door. “What the fuck happen in here? It’s like a shithouse got fucking dumped all over the goddamn place. Fuck.”

The others peeked around Poop’s shoulders. The interior of the cabin was cover with excrement, months dried, but the odor still hung in the air. There were piles of it on the floors, on every flat surface and in and among the feces, opened cans and boxes lay scattered around. It were as if whoever had been holed up inside the place had suddenly decided to give up on everything. Jesse saw a twitch out of the corner of his eye and leaned into the camper slightly.

“Damn--,” he breathed.

Hanging from a rope which had been tied to a small skylight, was what had been a person. It was now a zombie. The thing was hanging with its feet just touching the floor and the toes and soles of its feet scrabbled on the surface of the floor while it tried to get away from the rope restraining it. It black tongue still protruded from its mouth, but with the mummification, it was now a hard appendage sticking out from bared teeth and drawn lips. The things arms thrashed about, hitting at the walls around it.

“What the fuck?” laughed Poop. “What kind of fucking idiot fucking hangs himself? Don’t hat stupid son-of-a-bitch know that he got to fucking put a goddamn bullet in his fucking brain? Jesus Christ, some idiots don’t deserve to live.” Poop shouted at the ghoul as it scratched and clawed the air around it. “Hey, shithead, you’re the fucking reason abortions are legal, ya stupid cunt. Fuck.”

“Just shoot it,” said Paula, stepping away from the camper. “That’s pathetic.”

“Fucking right it is, stupid asshole,” agreed Poop.

“That’s not what I meant,” muttered Paula.

Poop gave her a curious look and then raised up his rifle, sighting in on the things head and firing one round into the monsters face. The suppressor was still loud in the confines of the camper and everyone backed away to clear their ears. The zombie sagged against the rope when the bullet shattered through its dried brain, the body still swinging slightly from its exertions. Jesse pulled Poop away from the camper and shut the door.

“Let’s keep going,”

They finished their sweep without further incident, all the while Poop kept trying to engage everyone in a conversation about the undead they had found.

“What kinda fucking asshole would hang himself with people fucking coming back to life all around him? You got to goddamn know that you got to put a fucking bullet in your damn cranium. It was al over the damn news. Why the hell would someone shit all over the place? I mean, that alone will fucking kill you dead with all the shit laying around. You think he just went apeshit at the end and was all out of his mind and crazy and shit?”

“Poop, knock it off,” said Jesse.

“I’m just fucking saying,” muttered Poop.

They trooped back into the base camp, the last of the scouting parties to return. No one had found any sign of the missing people.

“Ever hear of Roanoke?” asked someone. People shook their heads. “It was an English town here in America before there were colonies or something. They like were there for a supply ship one month and the next supply ship they were gone. No trace, no note, like they walked away into the woods.”

“Roanoke,” repeated Jesse. “Yeah, that’s what we got here.”

The others shook their heads at the thought of just disappearing into the wood. John began to give our orders to the detail: they were going to strip the campers and RV’s of what they could take and use and leave the hulks where they were. He turned to Jesse with a sad look on his face.

“I guess this will be our little Roanoke mystery of our own,” he said. He shook it away. “Well, you’ve got a patrol to finish up, right? Might as well get on it, I hear that the guys up in the fire tower are out of soap—they’ll be thankful for the break from each other too, I’ll bet.”

He and Jesse spoke for a few seconds more before Jesse called his patrol together. They left the camp in single file, each person had fallen quiet and seemed to be pondering the events of the last two days. In addition to the mystery of the campgrounds missing people, Jesse also had a new situation to deal with in the form of the council and the mayor. The problem was that every solution he came up with involved shooting one or more of them. He hoped that his dark mood would change by the time he got back to the Lodge.
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Re: Jesse

Post by T-Boon » Wed Apr 22, 2009 12:49 pm

Ahh, sublime !

Now how are they going to get out of that compound ...

Perhaps Phonecord tree repelling ? :twisted: :mrgreen:
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Re: Jesse

Post by Mr. E. Monkey » Wed Apr 22, 2009 12:55 pm

It was worth the wait. :D
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Re: Jesse

Post by doc66 » Wed Apr 22, 2009 1:16 pm

Thanks.
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Re: Jesse

Post by Mr. E. Monkey » Wed Apr 22, 2009 1:42 pm

doc66 wrote:Thanks.
Just don't start thinking that we'll wait quietly for another month to pass before the next addition. We'll wait, that's for sure, but quietly? MOAR!

Good luck with school and all that fun stuff! :)
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Re: Jesse

Post by Kathy in FL » Wed Apr 22, 2009 3:38 pm

I really like seeing the inside workings from Jesse's perspective. The character has definitely matured from the beginning of his part in this saga. Or maybe its my perception of him that has changed.

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Re: Jesse

Post by doc66 » Wed Apr 22, 2009 7:36 pm

I think he has matured.... He has become a member of a society, rather than an outcast--as he was in Hannah. He's gone from being an ex-con loner to a deciding member of the Lodge's political structure.

It should be interesting to see what happens next.
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Re: Jesse

Post by Mr. E. Monkey » Wed Apr 22, 2009 8:05 pm

doc66 wrote:It should be interesting to see what happens next.
So...when will we see what happens next? :lol:

Seriously, though, it amazes me just how real these people seem (can't hardly call them "characters").
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Re: Jesse

Post by spchtr » Thu Apr 23, 2009 7:56 am

doc66 wrote:Why did Homos Erectus survive and the Neanderthal not?
A small mouth, a large backside and bad taste?

Fake Edit: It was a scifi short story I read a long time ago, but the explanation seemed quite plausible.

Excellent post by the way. The flashback was a little confusing for me at first, but I caught it eventually.
I wrote:Pessimists by nature have a better time of life, as having our expectations dashed against the rocks is seldom a bad thing. On the contrary it is usually a pleasant surprise.
Y.T. wrote:
Gingersam wrote:There are only four things you need in life.

Supper Glue, Gaffa Tape, Vaseline and a Hammer.
where I come from, that makes one helluva party. ;)

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Re: Jesse

Post by SimonZayne » Thu Apr 23, 2009 3:23 pm

doc66 wrote:It should be interesting to see what happens next.
I told you what should happen next.
Now write the damn story the way I tell you.

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Mr. E. Monkey
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Re: Jesse

Post by Mr. E. Monkey » Thu Apr 23, 2009 4:03 pm

SimonZayne wrote:
doc66 wrote:It should be interesting to see what happens next.
I told you what should happen next.
Now write the damn story the way I tell you.
:lol: I hope you told him to write the story faster... :lol:
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Re: Jesse

Post by Subdiver » Thu Apr 23, 2009 8:29 pm

Well, shit. I've read 36 hours, Owen, Cole, and now I'm all caught up on Jesse. Stellar writing, Doc. Now I'm waiting for my fix, get hot!
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