Tag Archives: jail break

Trying to get back in the routine

Today is my flex day off this week. I got kind of a late start, and it felt good to sleep in for once. I spent an hour feeding Otto, and playing with him and his squeaky fox toy. After he settled down, I headed for the writing cabin.

I landed my gyrocopter and parked on the runway. When I took the elevator down into the basement, I noticed the formerly haunted biplane was missing. The yak was standing in his stall, waiting for me to get back to his story. “Where’s Lisa?”

“She has not returned,” the yak said. “I need to graze, if you don’t mind.”

I opened the stall and led him out the back door. “Stay near the cabin. Lisa isn’t here to guard you, and there are all kinds of fantasy creatures in the woods.”

I left him to his breakfast, and went in through the front door. Bunny needed food and fresh water, so I took care of him before settling into my office.

The window was open, and Doubt the raven soared high above the grazing yak. I grabbed the critiques I received weeks ago and went to work on them. The guys are enjoying The Yak Guy Project, and I didn’t have a lot of tweaking to do. We’re about to get a new member this coming month and I’m excited to meet her and get some different input.

I scheduled my next post for Story Empire and moved on to some of my short fiction. I wanted to do a read through on some of the stories for The Enhanced League. I made a few edits along the way.

I’ve been called for drifting into present tense a few times now, so I try to watch for it. I discovered one such place in a short story. It seems to be when using internal dialog. To my mind that is happening at the moment and present tense feels more intense. I changed it to past tense anyway. When I use contractions like “it’s and he’s” it feels correct for dialog. There is no reason why they aren’t contractions for “it was” and “he was.” Am I justifying, or am I reasonably correct? (Probably justifying.)

I opened a blank page to start the next short story and my phone rang.

“This is the Orange County Jail calling for Mr. Boyack. You have a collect call from Lisa Burton*. Will you accept the charges?”

“Yes.”

“So, um, hi. I ran into a little trouble here in Florida, and need you to post my bail.”

“You have internal phone capacity, why are you just calling now?”

“Turns out there are no signals at all in the jail. I’m fine, but can’t get a signal out. I even tried routing through their printer, but it’s a pretty stupid machine.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I had a lovely visit with Susan Nicholls, and she told me where I could find a new swimming suit, and some flip flops to go with it. That lead to a cute cover up, and some other cool shops–”

“Not the shopping, why are you in jail?”

“I’m getting to that. I just bought a cute denim outfit and some shoes before heading back to the airport. I always fly my own plane, because I can’t pass through security. Too much copper and titanium. So I wandered through the gate and pulled the chocks away from my tires when I was approached by two TSA agents. I swear, I was just minding my own business and coming home.”

“What did they want?”

“Turns out they have a problem with the machine-guns on my biplane. Some plane affictionado had to check it out, then got worried and reported me.”

“I thought you removed them. I hope they weren’t loaded.”

“Um, yeah, about that. You have some pretty scary stuff in the sky’s above the writing cabin. There are dragons, and aliens, and even witches on broomsticks. I may have a class three battle chassis, but I’m not going to survive a fall from twenty-five thousand feet.”

“How do you think your antique biplane would fare against an alien ship?”

“I need you to stop the writer’s brain for a second and post my bail.”

“No problem. I’m sure they impounded your plane. How will you get home?”

“Well, I’m going to un-impound it. Then I’m hugging the ground to avoid radar and coming straight home.”

“You’ll never be able to go back to Florida.”

“No, my plane will never be able to go back. I can still use the rocket-pack if I’m ever invited.”

“Okay, I’m logging in to their site right now. Oh look, they take PayPal.”

“Did you feed Bunny?”

“He’s fat and happy, and the yak is grazing right outside my window. Watch your tail, they may chase you as you fly off.”

“As soon as I get a signal, I’m going to link into their communications and make a mess of them. They can look for me in the Bermuda Triangle or somewhere.”

“Okay. Bail’s all posted, but I don’t know how long it will take at their end. You owe me too.”

“I know, and thanks. The money will go right back into your account once I can hack their system. I need to scrub my record, and destroy all video of my plane landing in Florida. It will be like it never happened, I promise.”

***

* Lisa Burton is my personal assistant and the spokesmodel for Entertaining Stories. She’s a robot and made her debut in Wild Concept. She also has a short story in The Experimental Notebook of C. S. Boyack.

 

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Lloyd Tenay drops by Lisa Burton Radio

 

Welcome everyone, on this episode of Lisa Burton Radio we have a really unusual guest. I’m your host, Lisa Burton the robot girl.

Crossing Bedlam is the sponsor of today’s show, and I’ll load all the important links at the end of the show. Let’s all welcome Lloyd Tenay.

“Hello Lloyd, welcome to the show.”

“Great to boob here. Uh . . . eh, close enough.”

“You have an interesting background. Prior to the collapse, which produced the Shattered States, you were in prison. Can you tell us a little about that?”

“The simple story is that I was a totally misunderstood serial killer who got caught. In my defense, the zoo had a new baboon exhibit and those animals are a lot of fun to watch. Oh, I guess I kill people because I wasn’t raised right or have a couple screws loose. I don’t know. It was either serial killer or taxi driver and I hate getting stuck in traffic. Where was I?

“By the way, I think you dropped your pencil and should bend down to pick it up.

“So, I was locked up for a while. Mostly solitary confinement because I rarely played well with others. There really wasn’t much to do besides working out, dreaming up new ways to kill people, and occasionally being brought out to entertain guests. After the collapse, the warden got supplies in various ways, which included hosting a death match. Reigning champion over here. Though I wasn’t allowed to go ‘Predator’ and keep a trophy. Wow. Nice to be able to utter a reference instead of being vague.”

“Do you think all of that is a benefit in the Shattered States? I mean survival can be a brutal business.”

“Seems to be useful. I’m still the newborn babe in this world, but having the ability to end a life without remorse does have an advantage here. Well, maybe I have some remorse at times, but there are a lot of bad guys to take out now. I can be like the Punisher or Venom or that guy with the hit movie whose name escapes me. All I really know is that it’s become kill or be killed out there and I’m a master at the former. How would a master at being killed work anyway? It’s really a onetime trick.”

“Yeah Lloyd, I suppose I can see that in a kind of twisted way. Under these circumstances, there are likely people who need killing. I mean there are cannibals out there, for cripes sakes. Still, don’t you want some kind of normalcy? Maybe settle down with Cassidy and live happily ever after?”

“Those cannibals were really freaky, but my contract states I can’t say anything more than that. I mean, total nutcases that would make Charles Manson question their sanity. Not sure normalcy is a thing here any more and it wasn’t my cup of tea in the first place. At least until I find the right woman who can admire the raw, animal crazy that is me. I’d say magnetism, but I don’t want to scramble your circuits and kick off Skynet. Although, there’d probably be a lot less resistance if Terminators looked more like you than Captain Heavy Accent. So exactly how long are your legs and are you double-jointed?”

“I’m a concept robot, so my legs are adjustable. And just in case, I’m bullet resistant, and a whole lot stronger than you are.

“Moving on, let’s talk about Nebraska. What’s Cassidy so scared of in Nebraska?”

“The kid won’t tell me. I think she has an ex-boyfriend out there or a reputation as some badass stripper with a heart of gold. Maybe it’s all about her father and people will get a front row seat to some teary-eyed reunion. Although she’s really big on saving ammo for Nebraska, which makes me lean more toward family being involved.”

“Lloyd, Lloyd, <snap, snap> I hate to cut you off there, but you have a caller. Hi, you’re on the air with Lisa and Lloyd.”

“This is Cassidy… Where the fuck are you, Lloyd!?

<Beeep>

“You left me in the bar and took the trading bag with you! I had to fight my way out and now we can’t go back. Not to mention I had to beat a gangbanger into the ground to get his phone and call into the show.”

“Thank god you added ‘into the ground’ there. <snick> Ah, the sobering sound of a friend aiming a sniper rifle at my nether region. In my defense, the host is really hot. I mean, insanely hot. They don’t make them like her . . . Are you mass produced because I’d like to order one?”

“You see a pair of tits and leave me behind? What kind of bodyguard are you?”

“The one you broke out of prison and never signed up for the job. You know I’m only in this story to be the crazy, sexy killer and source of comedy. Helps that I have a beautiful smile that the author really should bring more attention to. To be fair, I’d have wandered off for a nice ass, killer legs, shiny knives, a sale on graphic t-shirts, baboons, free samples of those cocktail weenies, and out of boredom. Not to mention, we’re the main characters. I’m safe because the two fans we have love me and you’re safe because you’re more of the focal point when it comes to the plot. Either one of us bites it then the series ends. At least if there is a series. Please buy CROSSING BEDLAM, which is now in paperback as well as the original eBook format for Amazon! Order now for your Kindle and get the book delivered immediately, which is how the thing works in the first place.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!” <Click>

<Beeeeep. Bu-Bu-Beeeeep>

“Sorry folks, trying to get the timing down on this censor button thingie. So wait a minute. You believe you’re a fictitious character in a book, rather than someone a book was written about? How is it that you’re here outside any book talking to Cassidy and I?”

“Well it makes complete sense. You have two strangers who get together in bizarre circumstances (jail break) and have a strange quest (toss Mama Cassidy’s ashes off the Golden Gate Bridge) and travel across a desolate landscape where they run into an array of odd characters (cannibals, rhino-loving snipers, wandering librarians, Eagles fans, etc.). We have to be main characters in a story with all of that going on. No other logical, totally sane explanation can be made.

“Now how did I get here specifically? Well, I told Cass that <Snick> Sorry, Cassidy that I was going to hit the bathroom, took the cellphone from a greasy guy out back who might have been the cook, and called in after seeing the number on a bathroom stall. So, I didn’t really know what I was calling into, but I gave all my info to this Craig guy. He seemed nice. Do you pay him well?

“Anyway, I tend to wander around when I’m on the phone and thought I was heading back to the Jeep. Um, I think I got lost. Cassidy, can you drive down the highway and look for a guy showing leg to get a lift? Probably won’t be me, but I want to see what post-apocalyptic hitchhikers are like.”

“Oooo Kaaay, I told everyone at the beginning that Lloyd was a bit different. He certainly proved that. Until next time for Lisa Burton Radio, this is Lisa Burton. Please check out the links on the website and consider adding Crossing Bedlam to your reading list.”

***

Crossing Bedlam- http://www.amazon.com/Crossing-Bedlam-Charles-E-Yallowitz-ebook/dp/B01BRE7UDC/

Amazon Author Page- http://www.amazon.com/Charles-E.-Yallowitz/e/B00AX1MSQA/

Blog- www.legendsofwindemere.com

Twitter- https://twitter.com/cyallowitz

 

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