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| Story Time With Phantom_Ghost - Volume One | Started by: Phantom_Ghost on Nov 03, '08 02:48 |
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In an alley between State Street and Polk Street Phantom_Ghost steps out of an alley with a lit cigarette in his mouth and an unopened beer in his suit coat pocket. He is followed by three large men and a tiger. Following the tiger is a pack of fourteen German Shepherds and a midget on stilts. Clearly this man knows how to party. Phantom flicks his cigarette into the street, narrowly missing a parking meter with a poster reading "NO PARKING until 11/4 - 6AM" Let me tell you all a little story about something that happened to me earlier tonight. He begins. I went to visit my immediate family today in the suburbs north of this lovely city of Chicago. After a heartfelt chat, a few drinks, and an exquisite dinner, I took a train back into the city. Phantom lights a new cigarette and puffs before continuing. Everything seemed normal, nothing was amiss just yet. As I walked closer to my destination, the subway, I realized I was being followed. Seeing as this was just a day trip I didn't have any of my men with me. Phantom motions to the circus following him. I turned around to notice a scrawny, dirty homeless man with curly hair following me and muttering something. I glanced his direction, chuckled, and continued on to the Roosevelt stop just down the street from here. Once again he motions down the street a ways, too far to see in the dark, even with the dim street lamps. A while later, I was startled to hear him muttering in the distance. I stopped and lit a smoke, determined to discover this man's intentions. Phantom_Ghost finishes this cigarette too, flicks it, and looks in his pack to see how many remain. The man strolls up to me, looks me up and down and mutters some gibberish I could only barely make out. Phantom_Ghost hunches over and does his best homeless man impersonation. "Frizzel fack- Motherfucker. Good for nothin' fuck your Mom. Hazzelbacker." He stands upright again. Taken back by the man's sudden salty language, I did what any self respecting, Mom loving man would do- I kicked him in the left kneecap. He stumbled for a moment and fell to the ground screaming in pain. Hunched over once more. "FARGARNISH! Son of a BICKS! She a whore anyway motherfaxeeze!" Upright again he has a smile on his face, having fun making up these words. What to do, what to do? The man clearly hadn't learned the lesson I set out to teach him in the first place. Deciding not to let him get the best of me, I repelled my urge to end him right there. My hand was sweating on my pistol, but I released the grip and reached into my pocket. I pulled out a quarter, threw it at him and said: "Go buy yourself some respect, Motherfaxeeze." Satisfied with his story, Phantom_Ghost motions to the parade of random animate objects behind him to follow. He takes the beer out of his pocket, cracks it open and walks toward Plymouth Court, around a corner and out of sight. |
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Listening to the story giving out a slight chuckle or two throughout its entirety, ProphetOfDeath walks away muttering. Whatever fixazokerif. You'll never be otintootin my shnorloff. Laughs. Nice story. Fades off in the dark, toward the Roosevelt line. |
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| Reply by: ProphetOfDeath at Nov 03, '08 08:39 | |
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After listening to this story, Demarco feels slightly embarrassed and pauses.... I thought this was a great story, but it feels odd for me to hear, because i was that shaggy homeless person. Demarco puts something in Phantom_Ghost's hand thanks for the quarter, but i dont need it anymore. Good story man...it made me laugh. |
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| Reply by: Demarco at Nov 03, '08 12:39 | |
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