Deathwish: Archetype Zero

A Huey Douglas Mystery

Huey had been sitting at the kitchen table attempting to unjumble the mumbo-jumbo of the times. "I'll just never understand what these people are saying."  The words scribbled down his chin like jagged little pebbles and fell into the literal pond of sweat collecting between his feet-- which had been concealed by a remarkably uncomfortable duo of mismatched and worn-down sneakers for a time.  Striding into the deafness and blindness of his darkening evening.  Huey knew the impermanence of his sensory dilemma just as well as anything else that he knew. He set his pace as he crossed the street.  The cornerstore should have been his destination, as his stock of certain consumable things had begun to run quite low.. and it was.  His stature dipped liberally as he handed the cornerstore clerk two ten-dollar bills. 'President Hamilton sure did know a thing or two about something.' thought Douglas.  

Perhaps a steady government hand-out of $888 per month, paid-out to a "mentally-ill" and totally dependent individual, would just be too much power for him to wield.  Tho,-- whenever he felt as if his life was spiraling out of control-- he would simply restock his supply of booze and cigarettes.  These things provided Huey with a stable reference point when everything around him was changing far too quickly for him to be able to keep up with his own upkeep.  He shifted his gravity in an attempt to shirk off his remarkable incredibility-- and thanked the shopkeep with an automatic bow.  The clerk, having the holier-than-thou attitude that he had,-- grimaced and raised his left hand, which was, at the time, embellished by a gold watch at his wrist.  Huey took that as an offensive gesture, and stomped out of the shop-- clenching his fists and muttering racial slurs as he violently threw the door open and stepped back into his evening pace.  

He lit a cigarette immediately knowing for certain that he had selected the ideal moment to strike a match.  Just then, the fuzz rolled up on him, rolled down the passenger side window and shouted something at him before speeding off.. Huey was entirely unsure of what the 5-0 had meant by whatever they had said.  He was also uncertain of his response.. if he had said anything at all..  Douglas continued to sweat profusely and wiped his brow.  Guided by the gods into a certain locality of being, he was.  His breathing, smokey as it may have been, stopped just short of heartfelt depth.  As he crossed the threshold of his abode, he took the first slug off his fresh new bottle of liberation from rotten bloody hell.  He attempted to look at his pet kitten and her eyes darted away in a dodge.  Tasting heavy metals in his mouth, he spit at her.  She sprung off and hid in the attic, fearing further abuse.


Billings pens blue links and inquires into the nature of Insufferable Things.  He builds houses out of five dollar Bill's and business cards of pro-printers and then destroys them with his Firewall spell.  He just recently quit burning squares.  He surfs green WiFi waves [way out] on the Sea of Kale.  He wields the Black Spear and wears a pink plastic pig mask.