Wanderlust

So allow me to have a comedy nerd moment: In the middle of working on my 3rd feature length script, I've been doing some sketch writing and discovered a new love/hate for improv. 

Anyways... as always, when I watch a movie, I study/dissect it as a screenwriter. Except recently when I watched "Wanderlust" written by Ken Marino (Wet Hot American Summer). I guess since I didn't expect much out of it, I decided to study it as a sketch writer/improv student just to see what I could come up with. 

I was impressed. Every. Scene. Was. A sketch. And all the sketches (or plots - A plot, B plot, C plot) came together and intertwined like a Harold. Wow. Mind blown. And I actually enjoyed this sleeper comedy.

If you're familiar with improv and the Harold as popularized by Del Close, you get what I'm saying. They even had somewhat of a group game. See video...

Even if you have no idea what I'm talking about but like comedies. Check it out. It's no Anchorman or Old School. But I do think you'll be pleasantly surprised and entertained. And one more video of my favorite scene to entice you...

The MixTape

In between my new ventures in writing and performing live comedy, I have been trying to keep up with my first passion: writing stories and creating weird characters and situations. Hope you're enjoying "Chastity".

Still, comedy is taking most of my time, efforts, and attention. And in no way is that a complaint. I love what I'm doing, I'm loving the new funny people I've grown close to, and where my life is going right now... and have found a deeper love in getting a chance to become some of my own comedic characters along with being weird characters other talented writer-friends of mine have created. 

For the second time in two weeks, I'll get a chance to perform sketch comedy, again. This time with my Nerd Alert crew and our sibling counterparts, the hilarious army known as Absolute Uncertainty. All produced by our wise mentors, The Pushers. Can't wait!

Chastity - Chapter 3

“We have to go to the police,” Chris said.

“Did Vincenzo get Gil?” asked Tit.

“I dunno. His pussy ass stopped running when you started to fly. What the fuck was that about?”

“Man, I dunno. But we need to find out what the hell is up with Vincenzo.”

When the boys got to the precinct downtown, they were immediately ushered into an Investigations office. “Sit,” ordered the weathered detective in the office. He was clean shaved, with dark features. His hair was peppered with grey and he smelled of cheap cologne and cheaper coffee. And for some reason he looked vaguely familiar to Chris and Tit.

“We know who you are. We need answers. NOW!” demanded the detective.

“I don’t know who you think we are,” Tit spoke slowly choosing his words carefully. “But our boss tried to kill us.”

“Yeah, he fuckin’ blasted shots at us like some gangster movie,” Chris added.

“Not ‘us.’ Him,” the detective informed, pointing at Tit.

“Me?”

“Yeah. You. It’s them shoes,” the detective pointed.

“My shoes?”

“Well, it ain’t your pants, ‘cause you ain’t got any.”

“Sorry. We were in a rush. I  can explain that, too.”

“Let me guess. You were being chased, flew away, and fell in the lake?”

“Not the lake, the waterfall…wait, how do you know I flew?”

“I know about the shoes, son. Detective Philipe Octetes. I’m with the undercover unit here.” The detective tipped his imaginary hat. Tit looked at him even more confused about the day’s events. “Spicy sausage on rye? Keep it hot?” reminded Detective Octetes.

“Oh yeah, extra cheese, right?” remembered Chris.

“Yeah, Porky. And guess what? It was fuckin’ cold when I went to get it. You guys are in some shit.”

“Over a sandwich?” asked Chris. Tit was still recounting the events in his head.

“No. Over them shoes there.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you be out looking for Mr. Vincenzo, trying to figure out why he would kill us over some shoes? And what happened to our friend Gil?”

“Gilliam is fine. We have him in Holding. That wasn’t Vincenzo, and those ain’t just some shoes, kid.”

“Can I have some sweatpants or something?” asked Tit.

“Sure. Hey Pete? Get the boy some pants from the locker room,” Detective Philipe Octetes called out to a colleague in the bullpen.

“Sure Phil. What size?”

“Just get ‘em some fuckin’ pants will ya?” Octetes paced the office, trying to figure out how to best explain the shoes. “This is gonna sound like some fairy tale, you hear me. But it’s real.” The boys perked up and listened attentively. “Those shoes are magic or something. They are ancient, really. Worth a lot of money, too. We’re appraising them at about 25 mil. Matter of fact, gimme the shoes.”

Tit started quickly to untie them. Chris stopped him, “Fuck that, Tit. You want ‘em copper? You can have them for 25 million.”

“Look, you fat piece of fuck. You don’t gimme them shoes and your friend here’s gonna die in ‘em.”

Tit went back to untying his shoes. Chris stopped him again, “Look you old, decrepit, old fuck, loser fuck. You said they’re worth a lot of money. And my friend here spent some good money trying to get them. So we’re going to get compensated somehow. You said 25 mil, so we want the 25 fuckin’ mil.”

The detective lunged for Chris’ throat and started wrangling him, “You little shit.” Tit wrestled himself between the two, trying to pry the detective off. “You can have the shoes. Just get the fuck off him.” Octetes composed himself. “ Now, tell us about the shoes.” The detective sat on the corner of the desk and began retelling the story.

“Kid, like you already know, the shoes can make you fly. I was workin’ with the Pantino Family, who was tryin’ to locate them there shoes. We needed them to sell and buy into some racketeering gig that was going on the Island. Well, we found a guy says he knows where the shoes are. When we meet up with the guy, he tries to hold us up.”

“Sounds stupid to meet up with anyone carryin’ that kind of cheese,” replied Chris.

“We were gonna put half down and he’d get the other half when we got them. But just as things started getting ugly, your boss, Mr. Vincent…”

“Vincenzo,” corrected Chris.

“Shut the fuck up, fat boy. This Mr. Vincenzo comes strolling by. Our guy grabs him and threatens to take his life if we didn’t hand over the cash. He knew.”

“Knew what?” asked Tit.

“Knew that there was a mole among the three of us. Me. Going into action, I tried pleading with him. But I knew if I tried too hard the other two would sniff me out and I’d blow the whole operation. It didn’t matter, our man slits your boss’ throat, leaves him to bleed in the gutter like some livestock, and takes off running.”

“They killed Mr. Vincenzo? How? He was chasing us,” Chris corrected.

“Hey you fat fuckin’ meatwad. Interrupt the story one more time and I’m gonna slice your sack open, let the cockroaches eat your testicles, understand me?”

Chris sat back and gulped at the thought. The other detective came in and handed Tit some sweatpants. Detective Octetes waited until Pete left. Then, continued. “We were dashing around the Campus when we lost him. While the three of us are scoping the area, we spot this Vincenzo character. We knew that was him.”

“But you just said…”

The detective pulled out a butterfly knife and leaped towards Chris, coming cunt hairs away from his crotch. “Another word, you snub nosed piece of shit. One more fuckin’ word.” The detective straightened himself back up and sat back on the desk.

“Our guy morphed into Vincenzo. You see, this ain’t no ordinary guy after some ordinary shoes. He’s a lycan.”

“What the hell is a ly…?” Chris started to ask, but Octetes shot him a look. “nevermind.”

“Like a werewolf?’ asked Tit.

“Yeah. More complex. A complete fuckin’ shapeshifter. It sounds dumb, I know, but it’s real. Hear me out.”

“Wait, you just said not another word,” Chris complained, seeing the detective take no offense to Tit interrupting.

“From you. I don’t like you. You’re like a big fuckin’ sloth. Your smell churns my stomach. AND YOU DIDN’T KEEP MY SANDWICH HOT!”

Chris remained quiet, now shaking. The detective went on. “So, yeah, he’s a shapeshifter. Tried to lose us by morphing into Vicenzo. Thing is, he can only turn into things he killed. Unfortunately, he has to first go through his list of dead, starting with the last. Guess he got stuck in a rut and went with it. So we follows him to your deli. Well, when things got heavy, I couldn’t let the wiseguys take him down. After all, I’m still a man of the law, you see? So I helped our guy out a little, but he got me in the crossfire. I played dead until the smoke cleared. But when I came out, everyone was gone… And my sandwich was cold.”

“How do you know all this? And why the shoes?” asked Tit.

“Kid, I’ve been around longer than you’ve been a thought. I came over way before the boats brought the WOPs.”

“You mean to Ellis?” Tit asked.

“No. The Pilgrims. My people chased the lycans for hundreds of years, in ancient Greece, preventing them from ruling our land. We chased them so far we lost our way back. So, instead, we continued the hunt. When the Vikings began their expedition, some lycans escaped. So we too joined the expedition. Came down through Canada and picked up their sent here upstate. Been here since trying to fish them out.”

“But the shoes…”

“The shoes are a remnant taken from my people. Yes, they make you fly. Big deal right?”

“If these lycans wanted to fly, why not kill a bird or something? You said they can morph into whatever…”

“DNA doesn’t match up. But back then, they didn’t dare to test the Earth mother and stuck to their own kind of species. Or likeness of. So K-9s or people. Anyways, when we all poured into Ithaca, there was a King already here. From Portugal; King Jao of Ramirez Valls Dinosio. The lycans wanted his protection from us, but the King refused to help beasts of Satan. In retaliation, the lycans murdered his wife, Queen Maria de Golasis of Genoa.”

“Genoa. Like Columbus?” Tit asked. “Man, this is like some sick history joke.”

“Yeah, like Columbus. And your American history is a joke. Ever heard about Truthers. They’re real. You really think Columbus accidentally stumbled upon some islands lookin’ for India? He did stumble on some islands, but only because he went too far south. He was tryin’ to reach the new kingdom being built. But that’s another story. So upon killing his wife, the lycans threatened his daughters to be next if he didn’t comply. The King being threatened gave them protection all through the years. The King has masons that are crafty in creating diversions, labyrinths, mazes that can get you lost. And that’s what he did to the forest to keep us away from the lycans. After they started dying off, the King started leaking information to us as to where the last ones were. That’s when things got ugly and they threatened his daughters again. Losing his masons in the Civil War, the King went at it himself and built a tall tower for his daughters in order to protect them. Being the savvy architect, he built mazes on the first three levels of his mansion so they couldn’t get to his daughters. After years, we thought the lycans all died off and all was safe. Until some gypsies came in town with their flea markets. The shoes were on display, with a legend of their existence. Soon, dead gypsies turn up all over the place. Fast forward to now, here, you...”

“So that’s why they need the shoes? So they can get to the daughters?” asked Chris.

“Bingo. And I thought I told you to keep your trap shut, you cow eatin’ piglet.”

“Sorry.”

“Did you lose his…scent? Can’t you get the rest of your people and go find him now and take him down?” suggested Tit.

“No. I got his scent now. And I’m the last of my kind. An amonder. Most of my people died in the Trail of Tears, fighting alongside the Natives in the American-Indian Wars. But I have a plan. We got to use you as bait Titty boy.”

“Bait? Me? Hell no. Fuck no.”

“Calm down, I’ll follow you closely. You’ll be fine.”

“Like Mr. Vincenzo? I’m sure,” Tit snipped.

“That was out of my control. I didn’t know our guy was a lycan. I just thought he stunk from being a bum thug. Your senses get rusty after a cold trail, my friend.”

“We have to go to the Tower. We gotta help Chastity and Sinclair,” said Tit.

“Who?” asked the Detective.

“The King you mentioned. I think I found his daughters, I guess. I’m sure the lycan followed us into the woods.”

“Wait. You met the King’s daughters? Impossible. They’re sirens. You would have died had they spoken to you. And what is this we go back to the woods malarkey? We’ll get killed for sure. No one but the lycans and King knows the mazes in the woods.”

“I can fly in and you can use a helicopter or something.”

“Listen kid, we can’t cause a big stink about this. This ain’t Rambo, shooting goons in the woods. Once we land, our guy will tear my people… my police humans to shreds. We gotta plan this out better. And it’d be safer with you out of the equation.”

The room was quiet for a moment as everyone was in deep concentration. “So, did they speak to you?” Octetes asked.

“Who?”

“The daughters? How did you not get killed?”

“They spoke to me, too!” Chris chimed in. The office windows trembled a bit.

“Yeah? Well I wasn’t. I told you to shut the fuck up. March your fat feet out of my fuckin’ office and let me speak to your friend here.” Chris looked stunned, then at Tit. Tit nodded and Chris shuffled out of the office. “Why don’t you go warm up my sandwich while you’re out there, eh.” Octetes smirked, and then called back out. “And I’m sure your stomach would like some food, too. It’s causing my office to shake it’s so hungry.”

Tit leaned forward, “They spoke to me… to us. But nothing happened.”

“Must be a myth after all. But we still have to plan this out more strategically. And I’m sorry, kid, but you’re mortal. You wouldn’t last 5 seconds with these creatures.”

Just then Pete burst into the office. “Phil, you better come fast. That guy we had in Holding…” Outside the office, police and detectives were running around.

“What? What about him?”

“He, uh, man I dunno. This sounds bananas. He broke through the wall and escaped.”

“Gil?” Tit perked up. Detective Octetes gave Tit a sorrowful look. Chris peeked in the office. The boys knew this was more serious than some mob hit and castles.

“The lycan,” Octetes mumbled. “Well, I can’t put yous two in holding now. He’s probably picked up on your scents here. You’ll have to ride with me. But go ahead and gimme them shoes just in case. Meet me downstairs in 10. And bring your tubby buddy with you. But keep his piehole closed.”

Chastity - Chapter 2

Tit could see nothing but forest, until a clearing opened up. And in the clearing was a lone concrete brick five story mansion, with a protruding watch tower. Tit crouched onto his heels to try to maneuver his flight. As he got closer to the house, he shifted his weight forward to relieve elevation. With only a few yards ahead of him, he was able to see two silhouettes in the tower. Tit put out his hands in front of him as if he were flying an invisible plane. Shifting his shoulders he was able to control his lateral direction until he came even with the tower.

A flock of Canadian geese honked as they flew under Tit, destabilizing his flight and making him overshoot the tower.  He looked back and saw the mansion getting smaller. More green pines brushed under his heels. He now heard a thunderous roar. Hemlock Gorge came into sight, then Fall Creek with rushing whitecaps. As Tit’s flight lowered again, he brushed alongside the treetops, occasionally snapping off twigs and small branches.

“Fuck,” Tit moaned as Fall Creek ended and the waterfall began its descend.

Tit stood straight, trying to float upwards and avoid nature in a futile attempt. Tit was now knee deep in the ice-cold creek, heading towards the edge. He turned around grasping for rocks as fish flapped past his thighs. Looking back, he saw nothing but sky before coming to the cliff. At the last rush of water, Tit pounded the water as the water swept down towards Beebe Lake. The sound was deafening as Tit closed his eyes and held his head tight, expecting to black out at the bottom. Instead, his legs were freezing as wind blew past his icy wet jeans. He opened his eyes seeing the magnificent splashes as the waterfall disturbed the lake. Tit was suspended in mid-air just at the dump off.

“Holy fuck!” Tit yelled in glee, his voice echoing off the gorge.

He floated there for a few seconds, locating his balance. He flung his arms down again and slowly lifted higher. Pushing back down on his heels, Tit headed back towards the mansion, this time at a lower elevation. He tested out his controls and maneuvered through the tips of the trees until the mansion was back in sight. Seeing the window open, Tit headed for the tower. The only thing was, Tit hadn’t figured out how to control his speed.

As he swooshed through the window frame, Tit crashed into the back wall of the room. He fell upon a desk, breaking it in half. Groggy, Tit tried to adjust his eyes and focus on his surroundings.

“Chastity, are you ok?” screamed a little girl’s voice as she burst through the door.

There she was sitting on the bed, an exotic beauty; slender, olive skin, long glistening black hair, hell of a rack, and dressed modestly. “Um, I do not know. I mean, I am safe. But this boy… are you ok there?” Chastity asked Tit.

“How’d you get in here!?” demanded the little girl.

“Uh, I, uh…flew in?” Tit replied unconvincingly.

“Flew in? Well, that’s quite ridiculous. Humans cannot fly,” answered Chastity.

“I’m getting Dad!” warned the little girl.

“No wait!” Tit said.

“Do not go disturbing father. Let’s keep this quiet for now,” said Chastity.

“If Dad finds out and we don’t tell him, there’s going to be some problems.”

“Look, I flew in. Really. Fuck. My head.”

Chastity gasped. She had never heard such a rogue word. She hadn’t heard any word not spoken from her father, little sister, Sinclaira, or her late mother. There was no computer, television, or phones anywhere in the room. Not even a landline. She had never gone past the third floor of the mansion. There was no need as her father made sure she had everything she needed built on the third floor and up in her tower.

“I definitely have to tell Dad about that one,” said Sinclaira.

Looking at her vivacious breasts, Tit introduced himself, “Hi, I’m, um, Tit…uh, Titty, I mean, Titus. Titus Baccus. But my friends call me Nipples. I mean, Tits…Tit.”

“Hello Mr. Tit. I am Chastity. Chastity de Joa. And this eager mouse is my little sister, three years my younger, Sinclaira.”

Tit stood up and brushed himself off, also making sure nothing was broken. Still dripping, he sloshed towards Chastity with an extended hand. She looked at his hand quizzically. “Did you hurt your palm?”

Tit looked at his hand. Nothing. “No, I was just… being polite.”

“I do not wish to stand at this moment, but I do thank you.”

Tit retracted his arm in confusion. “Hey, I’m sorry about this. I can explain. We were being chased when…”

“We? Chased?!” interrupted Sinclaira. “There’s more?”

“Well, uh, my friends Chris and Gil. When all of a sudden I started flying through the air…”

“Like a bird? Tell me, was it magnificent as I always imagine?” chimed in Chastity. Sinclaira walked towards the window looking out and down. “There is no we out there.”

“I know. I lost them when I started flying. Then I saw this tower, but I couldn’t stop and ended up in the creek and almost fell off the waterfall, but…”

“Waterfall? Where? Father gave me an encyclopedia before and I saw a waterfall in the pictures. Oh my, how wonderful it was. I dream of swimming in waterfalls. One day.”

“Um, you can’t swim in a waterfall. They’re actually pretty dangerous.”

“No. That is false, sir.”

“How are we going to get this boy out of here. Dad is going to find out,” warned Sinclaira.

“Yeah. Look, do you mind if I stay here until dusk. That way I can kinda creep out?” Tit suggested.

“Well, why do you not fly out the window? In the same manner you flew in? I’d love to see you do it,” asked Chastity.

“This is really fucking weird. I don’t know how I…”

Chastity gasped again, and giggled. “What is fack?”

“Fuck?” Tit corrected her.

Chastity giggled again. Tit couldn’t help but notice how innocent her laugh was. She seemed as if she were his age, but with a younger mentality. Kind of like Japanese chicks. Sinclaira drew the window down a little as the day was coming to an end and the chill was rising.

“It means… well, it can mean a lot of things.”

“Tell me, please? I have never heard a word like this… fu-uck before.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” replied Tit, guessing he crashed in on some sort of sick cult were fathers lock up their daughters for later breeding.

“It’s not good. I can tell that much, Chas,” informed Sinclair. “Dad still hasn’t told us about that word phallus you saw in the dictionary that one time.”

Tit smirked and looked for a place to sit. “Hey, do you have any jeans, sweatpants, or something. I need to take these jeans off, they’re soaked.”

“Jeans? I do not have in my possession any sweated pants either.”

Tit felt as if he was more in a twilight zone rather than a cult, now. Unable to bare the cold, he took off the jeans anyway. Sinclaira threw her face into a pillow on the bed. Chastity stared in awe.

“What is that you have there?” Chastity questioned.

“What? Boxers? I’m guessin’ you never seen boxers before, huh?” Tit said sarcastically.

Chastity turned red, “No. Inside of your box set. That bulge?”

Tit was now red, “Well, that… this is…” he thought about whether or not explaining human anatomy to her. But he was sure it would lead to other questions and he needed to focus on his own dilemma.

“Tit!” a faint voice echoed up and through the window. “Tit, are you up there? Hey, Tit?”

Sinclaira opened the window and looked down. Chris, winded, looked up embarrassingly. “Oh, sorry. I was lookin’ for a friend.”

Tit popped his head out the window, “Chris!” Chastity’s head followed.

“Fuckin’ A, man. How many girls you got up there? What the fuck? Where’s the door?”

“It’s not what you think. I’ll be down in a few,” Tit and Chastity pulled their heads back in the window. “Do you think I can go out now?” he asked.

“I would suppose. But I do not know how to reach the bottom level. My father has so many doors on the third floor that it has become difficult to locate the correct exit. One door leads to another chamber, which leads to a staircase that only goes up.”

“Fuck,” Tit expressed his frustration.

“What’s a phallus?” Sinclaira asked, yelling down to Chris.

Grinning, Chris yelled back up, “Tell me how to get in there and I can show you.”

Tit popped his head back out, “Not now man. Help me find a way out of here. Go around and see if there is another door other than the front.” Tit and the girls popped back in. Tit rubbed his hands together and rubbed his thighs, trying to warm up. He forced a smile. They all sat in awkward silence.

A few minutes later, Chris returned, gasping for air again, “Nothing, man. Did you fly in there?”

Tit looked back out the window. “Yes! Now I need to get out.”

“Well, fly the fuck back down dumbass.”

“I don’t know how I started to fly to begin with. I’ll kill myself.”

“How much room is up there?” Chris asked.

“Chris, this ain’t the time for your horndog ideas.”

“You fuck, I meant how much room is up there for you to have a running start? You started flying when we were running. So start running in circles and see if that works, Peter fuckin’ Pan.”

Tit thought this was a decent idea. “Would you mind if we moved your furniture around?” Tit asked. Chastity didn’t, and the three began rearranging furniture to make the maximum room for takeoff. Though he was rather strong having not been an athlete, Tit struggled to move around the old wooden furniture. “Your dad must like antiques, huh?”

“Antiques?”

“Nevermind. This should be good. Now you guys move up against the wall over there. I don’t want to run into you and hurt you.”

“Guys?” Chris called up.

“I think he means us, Chas,” Sinclair said. She yelled back, “We are not guys. We are ladies.”

“Ladies, would you please make yourself safe and move outta the way?” Tit asked. The girls complied. Tit began running circles as fast as he could in the 18 foot by 20 foot bedroom.

“You running yet?” Chris called up impatiently.

“Yes, fucker!” Tit yelled down as he passed the window. “It’s not workin’,” he yelled as he passed by again.

“Think happy thoughts,” Chris suggested.

“Why don’t you pull some fairy dust out your ass, Tinkerbitch,” Tit yelled down angrily. Chastity laughed at this word, bitch.

“Maybe you need a sail. In the other encyclopedias, I saw a sailboat floating past the skies,” Chastity told Tit. She jumped out from the corner and reached for the bed propped up vertically against the door. When Tit came around in his rotation, he hopped to avoid running into her, bracing himself for another crash into the wall. Chastity screamed.

“Look!” yelped Sinclaira.

Tit was once again suspended in mid-air. “Holy fuck! I’m doing it again,” belted Tit.

“What the fuck is going on up there?” Chris asked from below. Then he noticed lights turning on upwards around the tower. “Tit, get the fuck out of there. Someone’s coming.”

From inside the room, Tit and the girls could hear footsteps echoing closer to the bedroom.

“It’s Father. You must fly out now.”

“We’re in deep fuck now,” warned Sinclaira.

“Do come back, young man. I wish for you to tell me more about this world,” Chastity said.

Tit nodded and floated towards the door. Just as the last bit of him flew out, there was a banging at the door. “Girls? Is everything alright in there?”

“We’re fine Father.”

“Yes, Dad. We’re just fuckin’ playing in here. Everything is fine.”

Tit flew out the window and floated down to Chris. They took off back to town. “Try not to jump. I think I start flying when I leave both feet.”

Chastity - Chapter 1

“25 dollars,” the clerk of Stu’s Knick Knacks said. He was one of those dirty haggler types.

“25 dollars? These shoes better send me to the moon and then jack me off under the table. Fuck that. I’ll give you 15,” responded Titus.

Titus Baccus, or Tit as his friends would call him, was a 22-year-old ne’er do-gooder, still looking for purpose in his life. He got so hooked on making fast money working for Vincenzo at the market, he never thought twice about going back to school. But what Tit really wanted was adventure. Because, let’s face it, Ithaca, New York is as exciting as watching a Lifetime made-for-TV movie.

“20,” the clerk shot back.

“18.”

“Sold!” 

“Why the hell you want them ugly ass shoes for, Tit?” asked Chris, Tit’s best friend and coworker. If Chris wasn’t left-handed, he’d never get laid. He wipes his ass with his right hand.                                                                                              

Chris and Tit met when they both started working for Vincenzo five years ago. They were an odd pair, really. Tit, though he wasn’t a jock, still had the physique that attracted the female student body. His dark hair and youthful face always made the girls double take; even his teachers. A true Greek god in the flesh. And he took advantage of this. Chris was tall, but portly, if ever a combination. Though he wasn’t the ugliest cat in school, he still depended on Tit to catch the plethora of vaj that fell out of his pockets.

“Man, what are you talking about? No one has these shoes. They’re definitely fly.”

“No one has them because no one wants them,” Chris joked as the guys walked back to Vicenzo’s next door.

Tit couldn’t stop admiring the shiny maroon shoes with the gold wings emblem on the heels. Tit loved anything flashy, anything that would make his peacock persona extra flashy. He just couldn’t escape the want to be in the spotlight during high school, but now he was content being another face in the crowd. Yet, he still needed that sensation of spotlight.

“What you boys doing to me, huh? Get back to the fuckin’ stand, will ya!” Vincenzo scolded. Vincenzo owned Vito’s Meats and Deli every since his father passed it on to him more than 40 years ago. His father passed it on to him 30 years before that. And his father opened it up back in the 1920s after moving from Ellis Island. He was the first to open an Italian owned deli in Ithaca. Yet, he didn’t meet this feat unchallenged. Back then, the Dutch were still trying to lay claim to most of upstate New York, but with the immigration boom, the melting pot was spilling over.

“Vinny, cool it man,” replied Tit as he and Chris walked back into the deli. Tit put the shoes under the counter and went back to tending the line that had started queuing towards the door. Chris manned the meat slicer and gave Gil a shitfaced grin.

“You fuckers took forever! I’m too new for all this shit,” Gil gruffed. Gil was three weeks deep in the job. Tit put in a word for the almost 30-something –year-old town punk. Tit chatted with Gil every time he saw him around the market place looking for an unattended purse. After attempting to lift Tit’s neighbor’s purse during a cheese pick up at the deli, Tit suggested Gil work for Vicenzo’s and earn some honest money. He’d have all the free sandwiches he could eat, too.

“You lazy fuck. Get back to the Munster,” Chris shot back. Chris always gave Gil shit because he felt he was above Gil in the societal totem pole. And because he was younger, it felt good to him to be able to scrape the likes of Gil from his shoes, the way the kids in high school had done him.

“How ‘bout I show you what I learned to do with this cheese slicer today? On your scrotum,” Gil answered holding up the device with a smile.

“You boys, no more dicking around, you hear? I got a drop to make, so don’t make me come back to the place falling apart, or I’ll burn all your asses,” commanded Vincenzo. “Especially you Gilliam, you retarded fuck.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” patronized Gil.

The day went by just as any normal Ithaca afternoon; uneventful. No hot girls looking for honey ham, no horny housewives wanting their rumps glazed, only middle-aged bums wanting a quick roast beef sandwich with extra cornhash on their lunch breaks. What made it worst was the gloomy overcast that sat on the town like the mood that always took over.

Vincenzo returned from his drop cold and without muttering a word, which was uncommon for him. He always had something to complain about. You wouldn’t catch a day without him chewing one of the boys’ asses. But the boys didn’t pay him any mind. It was a nice change for a change. As the lunch crowd started thinning out, Tit pulled the shoes from under the counter and tried them on. They fit perfectly, but made him look like a clown with his bright green sleeveless shirt that exposed the definition in his triceps.

“You look like a fuckin’ tranny,” joked Gil.

“That’s funny, that’s what your moms said before she fucked me in the ass,” Chris retorted, defending Tit.

“Dude, that was gay in so many ways,” replied Gil.

“That was pretty homo, but fuck the both of you. These shoes are fresh, man,” said Tit.

Bursting through the door, making the copper bell crash to the floor, came three stubby goombas in heavy leather jackets. Everyone in town knew these three very well, the town wise guys. “Where the fuck is he?” asked the short one with a Napoleon complex.

“Uh, you mean, Mr…Mr. Vincenzo?” stuttered Chris, shaken by the sight of the three angry men.

“No. The fuckin’ toof fairy. Whaddaya think?” answered the tallest one.

Without another word, the three boys pointed the three men towards the back of the deli, towards Vincenzo’s office where Vincenzo had marched in to about an hour ago when he lurked in silently. “Thanks. Now fix me a fuckin’ spicy sausage on rye with extra Parmesan, you lil’ bastards,” ordered the third man in a high-pitched voice. “And keep it warm. This might take a while.”

The boys watched in fright as the men hurriedly marched to Vincenzo’s office. POP! POP! PARARARA-POP! The boys ducked behind the counter, some leftover patrons darted for the door, and an old man reading the newspaper fell backwards in his chair and couldn’t get up from snapping his shoulder. The rest of the deli customers froze in terror.

“What the fuck was that?” whispered Chris through his teeth.

“We need to call the cops,” Tit whispered back. They waited a few seconds, which felt like hours, for someone to come back from the back office.

“Come back you fuck,” cried the short wise guy as the office door opened. Vincenzo came running around the counter, pushing the boys aside, looking for the sharpest knives. The boys crouched in a corner and watched in shock Back and forth between Vincenzo and his office door. Vicenzo grabbed a few knives and threw them like darts towards his office door. He caught the short wise guy in the heart. The squeaky voiced one got it in the larynx. Both dropped dead instantly.

The tall wise guy appeared in at the bottom of the doorway, pulling himself along like a wounded soldier over his pals’ boodies. He lifted his gun and aimed for Vincenzo. POP! POP-POP-POP-POP! He got Vincenzo in the right shoulder, spinning him around. But no blood appeared. It was as if his body absorbed the bullets. He ripped off his butcher’s apron and pulled out a 9mm with a silencer. SOOT. SOOT. SOOT-SOOT. Vincenzo walked towards the man and shot at the same time, catching him four times evenly between the eyes.

Gil pushed Tit and Chris out the way and hurdled over the counter. Tit and Chris followed suit, except that Chris took longer before crashing down onto the floor. A glint of light caught Vincenzo’s eye when he looked up from the corpse; the emblem from Tit’s shoes.

“There they are,” he muttered to himself. “Hey! Get back here!” he shouted after the boys. Gil was ahead of the other two, but started losing ground. Chris was further behind Tit, who was running at light speed. Faster than he’d ever run. Tit could feel the adrenaline consuming his muscles as he caught up to Gil. DINK. DINK. Two bullets caught the garbage cans ahead of them. The boys quickly cut a right one after the other. This time Gil was much slower and it took all Chris had to get in line with him. Tit was far up ahead, out of reach.

He cut through an alley, hopped on top of a dumpster, and leaped over the fence as swiftly as a hurdler. But he never landed back down on pavement. He was feeling such a rush, and his legs were still rotating in motion, that he didn’t realize he was flying. Gil stopped, staring dumbfounded up at Tit. Chris didn’t stop but kept his eyes on Tit, as well, until he ran into the dumpster.

“What in the fuck, Tit!?” Chris yelled up, sitting on his ass.

Tit looked back to see if his friends were keeping up when he noticed the faded Coca-Cola Classic advertisement high up on a brick building at eye level. Feeling the wind on his face, he looked down and noticed he was five stories above the street. “Holy shit!” Tit freaked out. He stopped moving his legs but he was still flying. He tried to gain some equilibrium as if waterskiing.

Chris snapped back into it, jumped the fence, and ran after Tit with one eye on the street for anything else that would knock him on his ass. Gil remained behind still in awe. “Tit, what the fuck is going on?” Chris screamed up.

“I ..I dunno, man. Don’t lose me,” Tit squeezed out from his tightened throat.

Leveling off at about eight stories, Tit floated away, over Stewart Park and out of town towards the woods. As Chris lost momentum, Tit became a spec in his sight.

Chastity Belt Photo credit: Ian Koh / Foter / CC BY-NC