The No Bell Prize
Johnny NoGood and Four Legendary Assassins are sent on a mission to destroy the one and only Alex Graham Bell. Told from four spectacular points of view, read the unedited, and uncut version of the story deemed too intense for Shepherd Hill High School's Anthology.
Content
I. The Shady Meeting
1839
It was a dark cloudy night in the cold city. The gentlemen, and esteemed womenfolk had retreated to the safe comfort of their homes. Only the devil’s clique was out tonight. They were men who had no homes: just tool sheds, and graveyards. Men like me, Johnny NoGood. The puff of my cigarette blended with the fog of the surrounding area. I thought of old Jim and how I tore off his limbs. You see, my dad had an old saying, “One Step Forward. Two Steps Backward, then tear off your limbs and try to roller-skate.” Old Jim didn’t appreciate the poetry of the situation or flying down a hill at twenty miles per hour. “ARGGGGGGGH! I WANT MY LIMBS BACK!” was all he said. Some bleeding piles of living flesh just don’t understand poetic allusions. I told him to go back to college. Having to learn Braille with only your tongue left would be a challenge: but we all have our challenges. I walked on the cobblestone streets in search of a rumored secret meeting. If it were some sort of fancy hat party or something I’d blow all their heads off until I could can them, and label ‘em “Tomato Soup.” A gaslight cast its light on a black door. I walked towards it, and creaked the tavern door open.
An angel’s face peaked through the other side. Her eyes were as black as buttons. Her long dark hair complemented her buxom physique and contrasted her pale skin. Her name was Pearl. “How many cigarettes did you smoke tonight, Johnny?” She said as smoke exhausted from her breath. “Twenty three and a half.” I replied. Pearl reached into my pocket, and grabbed my pack. “How come there is only one left?” She said. “One went to the Monk I doused with gasoline.” I replied. “Oh Johnny…When will you learn?” Pearl said as she straightened up my white dress shirt, and suspenders. “Now look Johnny, something is mighty strange about this hit. Nobel put out all the stops on this one. A devilish crowd has been gathering in the city waiting for tonight. They’re the hardest bunch of cutthroats and maniacs I’ve ever seen.” She said. “Give me a run through.” I said. “ The first man that pass through this tavern was a man of science. He carried a metal box on his back, and wore green goggles. I heard a man scream “ To HELL WITH YOU IVAN!” as he died of food poison. Also it’s rumored that Jim Horrowitz is going to make an appearance.” Pearl said. “Hands of a tiger…Brains of a bear. That man’s a lunatic.” I snickered to myself. About year of two ago, a man named Gordon hired me to assassinate his fisherman. Horrowittz nearly stole my kill until I grilled a salmon and shoved it down his throat! “There are two other men who’ve shown up. Karl Bronson, a rather handsome
aged man came with a prototype long ranged weapon. And finally Pills McGee showed up. Legends tells that he was so hopped up on stimulants that he read the bible twice in a minute and wrote the book of Mormon.” She concluded. “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a good time.” I replied. “You best be going. Now don’t go get yourself shot up Johnny. You owe me a date.” Pearl said. “Hahahahaha. Yes Ma’am.” I said as I walked down the hall, and opened the last door on the right. I entered the dim lit room, and could only see the silhouettes of Alfred Nobel, and my fellow cohorts. It was a dingy dusty old room. Not the type you’d bring a lady to. Nobel held a stack of papers right under a small lamp. “Hello Gentlemen. I have gathered you here for a very particular reason. ALEX! GRAHAM! BELL! Is on the verge of a telecommunications breakthrough.” Alfred said. He laid a picture of a lean gaunt man with the look of crazy stuck in his eyeballs. It was Bell. Our target. “This breakthrough could lead to immense profit and success to one of the worst mob families in history. Under the power of Ma Bell, her sons South, American, Atlantic, Southwestern, and Alex will rule coast to coast, and destroy every other crime syndicate’s profit. Luckily Mr. Bell will be in town this week.” He laid down pictures of two yellow hotels. “Bell will be staying in the Newbury Hotels. These are some of the most advanced hotels in the area. Separated in two buildings, each one has four stories, and each story has four rooms. The assassin to deliver Alfred’s corpse to the Westside dock will be the winner of THE NO-BELL PRIZE!” Alfred concluded as he broke into
hysterics. His maddening laughter only intensified as lightning struck outside. I had work to do. End of Act One
II. A Man of Science or EnviroMental
I quickly fastened my green tinted glasses, and poison spray box to my back. I grasped the box’s hose in my hand. I stood outside in the beautiful environment ruined by two hotels, and all the “progress” of men. Simple foolish men, they do not understand the power of sunflowers or the malicious genius of trees. Nor do they know the fear and terror of a well balanced diet. I waited behind the hotel’s restaurant. It was roughly half a mile from the main buildings. My watch bird cawed out at me. Caw! Caw! CAW! Which roughly translates to “Grave warnings my master; they target has cometh.” “Marvelous work Tobias. I will avenge your family’s death.” I cawed back to him. I made a mental note to climb up into the trees late, and hunt after the wild osprey that murdered his family. It would take weeks of devoted hunting, and preparation...Oh yes! The mission. I sneakily entered through the building’s back exit. I could see Mr. Bell with his maddening look. A waiter approached his table. He quietly placed his order. The waiter
walked over to the kitchen. “One giant bacon cheese burger, and fries.” Ordered the waiter. It enraged me the caloric intake of the food alone should have been able to kill him but I would add my poison to it for safety’s sake. The cook prepped his food. As soon as the grease was fully cooked into the meat was, I crouched behind the cook with a metal pan in my hands. Bam! I took him out. I release the valve on my poison hose, and laid it on the burger. I put the burger at the counter, and hit the bell. It was only a matter of time. The waiter walked over, and grabbed the dish. It was delivered to Alex Graham Bell’s table. Mr. Bell picked up his burger, and took a bite. And another bite. And another bite. The curiosity was destroying me. Why wasn’t my poisonous chemical working? “ARGGGH! WHY? ARE YOU NOT POISONED YET?” I yelled at him. “HAHAHAHAHA! FOOLISH MORTAL! I am weaRING rubber lips! And are a ROBOT!” Robo-Bell replied. How was I so easily tricked? I am truth declarer, Master of Science, and Nature. How dare Bell mock me! Beep! BEep! The Robo-Bell sprouted machine guns out of its limbs. I quickly ran out of the room. I would have to find another way to instill fear into people, and gain power. Note to self: Invent Global Warming! HAHAHAHAHAHA! SCIENCE! End of Act Two
III. Brains of a Bear
A growling man with the hand of a tiger approached the Newbury Hotel. No one ever had the guts to ask why or how he had acquired tiger hands or switched half of his
brain with a bear’s. If they did, they’d be lucky to end up in a concrete cell describing their imaginary friends, and birds they saw that day to their family members who were guilted into visiting them. But never mind about that hypothetical nonsense, Jim Horrowitz had a mission; Kill Alexander Graham Bell. Jim was notified about Bell’s room by a cleaning lady that worked in the hotel. He entered the hotel. A large growl was heard throughout the grounds. The window to Bell’s room splashed red. A collection of legs and arms flew out the window. The chaos of the situation ended in a giant explosion. The bottom floor was badly damaged but strangely Jim Horrowitz never entered that room. Jim had smelt the food from the room service kitchen in the basement, and walked down there. Oddly enough the room was not Bell’s room at all. In fact, it was Pills McGee’s room. Pills McGee was a curious man with curious habits. Recently he had become obsessed with the color red and store mannequins. After doing a 1000 milliliters of vitamin c and downing a Mountain Dew Code Red on the rocks. Pills had gotten the munchies, and sent a Morse code order to the room service kitchen in the basement. The waiter loaded up the cart, and proceeded to McGee’s room, only to be chased by Jim Horrowitz. The young waiter ran faster than he ever had before to the first floor. Unfortunately as the waiter made it to the first floor, he collided with a group of hardcore nerds who were at the hotel for the “Bears on Roller Skates Role-playing Convention.” Jim broke into a brutal rage. He tore into the crowd. The fight continued into Pill’s room. Multiple groups of role-players jumped at Jim. As he growled viciously and swung his paws, the mob only grew angrier. They pushed him back into paint, and mannequins. The paint splattered the window. Jim clawed a man in the chest. They
started to throw mannequins at him. Pills McGee started to get more nervous than normal. Pills knew about the explosive, he had set up earlier in case the cops busted into his room. Grabbing what Kool Aid and Flintstone vitamins he could along the way, he anxiously ran through the crowd. The fight raged on for a little bit longer until Jim’s claws released a blood soaked women into a wall. The wall’s delicate domino based explosive system was ignited. Boom! The room was utterly destroyed. The first floor was a wreck but no intense structural damage had taken place. Pills McGee was at a safe distance when the room exploded. He ran off happily into the woods singing the Academy Award-Winning soundtrack to the Sound of Music. The End of Act Three
IV. Sniper, No Sniping!
“Karl Garth Bronson’s my name,” I replied to my handsome God-loving American reflection. Sometimes I just can’t believe how white my tooth enamel has become or how sexy my sexy slicked back hair has become. Those hearty cheekbones complement one firm baseball-like chin. Time has aged me well. It’s hard for most people including myself but I am a model of A.O.M.O. (Association of Model Assassins.) Ring! The strange speaking device rang out for attention. I excitedly picked up the wooden end corded to the box. I had only used this device once before, and couldn’t wait to exhaust the air out of my glorious vocal chords. “Hello Mr. Bronson.” The voice spoke
I remembered that voice from the previous phone call. Dora Rodriguez was cleaning lady employed by the Hotel. She says she hears a lot of hearsay, and idle talk. Apparently her beautiful forty-year old physique had a lot to do with it. “Dear Madame, I did not know we’d be able to talk… so soon.” I allowed the air to contain my words. “You stop it Bronson! You pay me full after this tip,” Bickered the sexily aged voice. “So what is the deal with this Bell cat?” I asked. “My sources confirmed he is in the building opposite to you. I’ll be cleaning each room. After the room is cleaned, it’s light will turn on. Once you find Bell’s room, use whatever method you wish. How due to the installation of the new blue stained glass windows, we have one rule… ‘Sniper, No Sniping!’” She said as she hung up. Two things bothered my very core. I couldn’t use my new high-powered rifle, and I didn’t get the chance to ask her out for dinner. As my thought came into conflict with each other, I came to a moment of enlightenment. I’m a model/ assassin! I don’t care about anything! I unboxed my beautiful wooden long ranged rifle. I fixed its scope on the gun. The gun had an experimental steam-powered automatic loading ammo holder attached to it. I poured myself a glass of Whisky, and steadied my sights. I waited for about thirty minutes for her to clear through the entire building. There were three unlit windows lined up diagonally on the top three floors. As I aimed my sights, I heard the growling of a bear. Suddenly a barrage of limbs and blood flew out of the last right window on the first floor. Boom! An explosion left the room soaked red.
I had to move quickly before Bell decided to move. I eyed the second floor. There was a silhouette of a man. I pulled my trigger. Bam! The bullet flew through my target. He fell down to the floor. It seemed someone had set up a cardboard mannequin. The bullet went straight through it into a crate of Jello, and knocked down 15 gallons of water. The room quickly filled up with Jello. All that Jello was wasted. Boy, I wish I were that cardboard man. I peered up to the third floor window. I saw quick movement, and my trigger fingered squeezed once more. Bam! The bullet flew through the window, and hit a curious looking science experiment. A mixture of chemicals misted the window deep red. I had one last window to check before I had to run. I pointed my rifle once more. A man entered the room. Bam! It hit a large assortment of Spanish dishes from the night before. A big bowl of salsa splashed the slightly cracked light blue windows red. The man quickly ran from his room. There was a diagonal line of four red colored windows in contrast to the blue windows surrounding them. I quickly packed up my rifle, and the amazing amount of possessions I had with me. I ran to my room door. BAM! “Pretty sneaky sis!” I said with what strength I had. It was Dora Rodriguez with a smoking gun. I looked down at my rock steady six-pack, and blood was dripping out like the cork popped off a finely aged wine. Dora’s face lit up with maniacal laughter. “I always knew the poor would screw me over!” I shouted at her. “I’M NOT POOR AT ALL HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” She screamed at me. Dora tore her plastic face off to reveal Alex Graham Bell! “You’ll rot in hell Bell! You’ll ROT IN HELL BELL! YOU’LL ROT IN HELLS
BELLS!” My last breathed echoed to the moon itself. He aimed his gun once more at me. BAM! The End of Act Four
V. It was a NoGood Night
A rat trembled as he ran into the small crack of light in the underground sewer. The sewers were filled with blood, urine, and alcohol. Only the most mental of the downright insane came down here, and me: Johnny NoGood. I was on a mission. I filled the sewer with bricks of TNT and cigarette smoke. The explosion was a direct hit under the hotels. If Bell survived this, he could escape the sixth layer of hell. I carefully laid down wire while climbing up the ladder. I popped out at the top of the sewer, and rolled the rest of the wheel of wire behind the backside of the Newbury Hotels. There was a massive panic in the air. Many of the Hotel’s guests ran from the building. It seems my fellow colleagues had the advanced skill of blowing hell to high water. I lit the spark to the explosives, and ran as fast as I could. The Hotels erupted into
an inferno. The TNT created a noise that could shake the earth flat. Mother Nature snorted death from the air like a junkie desperate for a fix. A flaming corpse jumped out at me from the fire. I lit a cigarette and turned around. I knew exactly who it was. “Telecommunications is a very important advancement to mankind. You will never prevent such an enormous leap in technology.” Bell’s corpse said before landing on the ground. I threw my cigarette at his burning face. “I’ll telecommunicate my fist ripping out your nervous system.” I growled back. My cancerous lungs let out a deep breath, I thought about Pearl. The corpse ran at me. I jump kicked him as another explosion went off. It sent wood splinters flying into his back. Agony filled his face. I was just getting started. I sent my knee into his stomach. His previous meal splattered onto the ground. In a rare moment of charity, I fed the man a swift kick from a hard leather boot. His flaming body melted my boot to the ground. Bell held up his flaming fist in preparation for a strike, and squealed like a tortured Hyena. He dove his fist first towards me. His first hit collided with my chest. My heart skipped a beat. Why wasn’t I dead? I reached for my breast pocket. It was my pack of cigarettes. They had saved my life. “There’s nothing in the world that can stop a man and a loyal pack of cigarettes.” I said. I pushed myself out of the dirt, and unleashed a massive punch that rattled his rib cage. He fell to the ground whimpering in pain. “YOU’RE NO GOOD JOHNNY!” Said the flaming corpse of Alex Graham Bell. I stood above him in the cold starlight. He brought back nostalgic memories to me. “When my Mom use to read me stories, at the end she’d say ‘There are no good nights… Only Death.’” I said. I felt no sympathy for him. I withdrew my single shot pistol. BAM!
The End.
1839
It was a dark cloudy night in the cold city. The gentlemen, and esteemed womenfolk had retreated to the safe comfort of their homes. Only the devil’s clique was out tonight. They were men who had no homes: just tool sheds, and graveyards. Men like me, Johnny NoGood. The puff of my cigarette blended with the fog of the surrounding area. I thought of old Jim and how I tore off his limbs. You see, my dad had an old saying, “One Step Forward. Two Steps Backward, then tear off your limbs and try to roller-skate.” Old Jim didn’t appreciate the poetry of the situation or flying down a hill at twenty miles per hour. “ARGGGGGGGH! I WANT MY LIMBS BACK!” was all he said. Some bleeding piles of living flesh just don’t understand poetic allusions. I told him to go back to college. Having to learn Braille with only your tongue left would be a challenge: but we all have our challenges. I walked on the cobblestone streets in search of a rumored secret meeting. If it were some sort of fancy hat party or something I’d blow all their heads off until I could can them, and label ‘em “Tomato Soup.” A gaslight cast its light on a black door. I walked towards it, and creaked the tavern door open.
An angel’s face peaked through the other side. Her eyes were as black as buttons. Her long dark hair complemented her buxom physique and contrasted her pale skin. Her name was Pearl. “How many cigarettes did you smoke tonight, Johnny?” She said as smoke exhausted from her breath. “Twenty three and a half.” I replied. Pearl reached into my pocket, and grabbed my pack. “How come there is only one left?” She said. “One went to the Monk I doused with gasoline.” I replied. “Oh Johnny…When will you learn?” Pearl said as she straightened up my white dress shirt, and suspenders. “Now look Johnny, something is mighty strange about this hit. Nobel put out all the stops on this one. A devilish crowd has been gathering in the city waiting for tonight. They’re the hardest bunch of cutthroats and maniacs I’ve ever seen.” She said. “Give me a run through.” I said. “ The first man that pass through this tavern was a man of science. He carried a metal box on his back, and wore green goggles. I heard a man scream “ To HELL WITH YOU IVAN!” as he died of food poison. Also it’s rumored that Jim Horrowitz is going to make an appearance.” Pearl said. “Hands of a tiger…Brains of a bear. That man’s a lunatic.” I snickered to myself. About year of two ago, a man named Gordon hired me to assassinate his fisherman. Horrowittz nearly stole my kill until I grilled a salmon and shoved it down his throat! “There are two other men who’ve shown up. Karl Bronson, a rather handsome
aged man came with a prototype long ranged weapon. And finally Pills McGee showed up. Legends tells that he was so hopped up on stimulants that he read the bible twice in a minute and wrote the book of Mormon.” She concluded. “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a good time.” I replied. “You best be going. Now don’t go get yourself shot up Johnny. You owe me a date.” Pearl said. “Hahahahaha. Yes Ma’am.” I said as I walked down the hall, and opened the last door on the right. I entered the dim lit room, and could only see the silhouettes of Alfred Nobel, and my fellow cohorts. It was a dingy dusty old room. Not the type you’d bring a lady to. Nobel held a stack of papers right under a small lamp. “Hello Gentlemen. I have gathered you here for a very particular reason. ALEX! GRAHAM! BELL! Is on the verge of a telecommunications breakthrough.” Alfred said. He laid a picture of a lean gaunt man with the look of crazy stuck in his eyeballs. It was Bell. Our target. “This breakthrough could lead to immense profit and success to one of the worst mob families in history. Under the power of Ma Bell, her sons South, American, Atlantic, Southwestern, and Alex will rule coast to coast, and destroy every other crime syndicate’s profit. Luckily Mr. Bell will be in town this week.” He laid down pictures of two yellow hotels. “Bell will be staying in the Newbury Hotels. These are some of the most advanced hotels in the area. Separated in two buildings, each one has four stories, and each story has four rooms. The assassin to deliver Alfred’s corpse to the Westside dock will be the winner of THE NO-BELL PRIZE!” Alfred concluded as he broke into
hysterics. His maddening laughter only intensified as lightning struck outside. I had work to do. End of Act One
II. A Man of Science or EnviroMental
I quickly fastened my green tinted glasses, and poison spray box to my back. I grasped the box’s hose in my hand. I stood outside in the beautiful environment ruined by two hotels, and all the “progress” of men. Simple foolish men, they do not understand the power of sunflowers or the malicious genius of trees. Nor do they know the fear and terror of a well balanced diet. I waited behind the hotel’s restaurant. It was roughly half a mile from the main buildings. My watch bird cawed out at me. Caw! Caw! CAW! Which roughly translates to “Grave warnings my master; they target has cometh.” “Marvelous work Tobias. I will avenge your family’s death.” I cawed back to him. I made a mental note to climb up into the trees late, and hunt after the wild osprey that murdered his family. It would take weeks of devoted hunting, and preparation...Oh yes! The mission. I sneakily entered through the building’s back exit. I could see Mr. Bell with his maddening look. A waiter approached his table. He quietly placed his order. The waiter
walked over to the kitchen. “One giant bacon cheese burger, and fries.” Ordered the waiter. It enraged me the caloric intake of the food alone should have been able to kill him but I would add my poison to it for safety’s sake. The cook prepped his food. As soon as the grease was fully cooked into the meat was, I crouched behind the cook with a metal pan in my hands. Bam! I took him out. I release the valve on my poison hose, and laid it on the burger. I put the burger at the counter, and hit the bell. It was only a matter of time. The waiter walked over, and grabbed the dish. It was delivered to Alex Graham Bell’s table. Mr. Bell picked up his burger, and took a bite. And another bite. And another bite. The curiosity was destroying me. Why wasn’t my poisonous chemical working? “ARGGGH! WHY? ARE YOU NOT POISONED YET?” I yelled at him. “HAHAHAHAHA! FOOLISH MORTAL! I am weaRING rubber lips! And are a ROBOT!” Robo-Bell replied. How was I so easily tricked? I am truth declarer, Master of Science, and Nature. How dare Bell mock me! Beep! BEep! The Robo-Bell sprouted machine guns out of its limbs. I quickly ran out of the room. I would have to find another way to instill fear into people, and gain power. Note to self: Invent Global Warming! HAHAHAHAHAHA! SCIENCE! End of Act Two
III. Brains of a Bear
A growling man with the hand of a tiger approached the Newbury Hotel. No one ever had the guts to ask why or how he had acquired tiger hands or switched half of his
brain with a bear’s. If they did, they’d be lucky to end up in a concrete cell describing their imaginary friends, and birds they saw that day to their family members who were guilted into visiting them. But never mind about that hypothetical nonsense, Jim Horrowitz had a mission; Kill Alexander Graham Bell. Jim was notified about Bell’s room by a cleaning lady that worked in the hotel. He entered the hotel. A large growl was heard throughout the grounds. The window to Bell’s room splashed red. A collection of legs and arms flew out the window. The chaos of the situation ended in a giant explosion. The bottom floor was badly damaged but strangely Jim Horrowitz never entered that room. Jim had smelt the food from the room service kitchen in the basement, and walked down there. Oddly enough the room was not Bell’s room at all. In fact, it was Pills McGee’s room. Pills McGee was a curious man with curious habits. Recently he had become obsessed with the color red and store mannequins. After doing a 1000 milliliters of vitamin c and downing a Mountain Dew Code Red on the rocks. Pills had gotten the munchies, and sent a Morse code order to the room service kitchen in the basement. The waiter loaded up the cart, and proceeded to McGee’s room, only to be chased by Jim Horrowitz. The young waiter ran faster than he ever had before to the first floor. Unfortunately as the waiter made it to the first floor, he collided with a group of hardcore nerds who were at the hotel for the “Bears on Roller Skates Role-playing Convention.” Jim broke into a brutal rage. He tore into the crowd. The fight continued into Pill’s room. Multiple groups of role-players jumped at Jim. As he growled viciously and swung his paws, the mob only grew angrier. They pushed him back into paint, and mannequins. The paint splattered the window. Jim clawed a man in the chest. They
started to throw mannequins at him. Pills McGee started to get more nervous than normal. Pills knew about the explosive, he had set up earlier in case the cops busted into his room. Grabbing what Kool Aid and Flintstone vitamins he could along the way, he anxiously ran through the crowd. The fight raged on for a little bit longer until Jim’s claws released a blood soaked women into a wall. The wall’s delicate domino based explosive system was ignited. Boom! The room was utterly destroyed. The first floor was a wreck but no intense structural damage had taken place. Pills McGee was at a safe distance when the room exploded. He ran off happily into the woods singing the Academy Award-Winning soundtrack to the Sound of Music. The End of Act Three
IV. Sniper, No Sniping!
“Karl Garth Bronson’s my name,” I replied to my handsome God-loving American reflection. Sometimes I just can’t believe how white my tooth enamel has become or how sexy my sexy slicked back hair has become. Those hearty cheekbones complement one firm baseball-like chin. Time has aged me well. It’s hard for most people including myself but I am a model of A.O.M.O. (Association of Model Assassins.) Ring! The strange speaking device rang out for attention. I excitedly picked up the wooden end corded to the box. I had only used this device once before, and couldn’t wait to exhaust the air out of my glorious vocal chords. “Hello Mr. Bronson.” The voice spoke
I remembered that voice from the previous phone call. Dora Rodriguez was cleaning lady employed by the Hotel. She says she hears a lot of hearsay, and idle talk. Apparently her beautiful forty-year old physique had a lot to do with it. “Dear Madame, I did not know we’d be able to talk… so soon.” I allowed the air to contain my words. “You stop it Bronson! You pay me full after this tip,” Bickered the sexily aged voice. “So what is the deal with this Bell cat?” I asked. “My sources confirmed he is in the building opposite to you. I’ll be cleaning each room. After the room is cleaned, it’s light will turn on. Once you find Bell’s room, use whatever method you wish. How due to the installation of the new blue stained glass windows, we have one rule… ‘Sniper, No Sniping!’” She said as she hung up. Two things bothered my very core. I couldn’t use my new high-powered rifle, and I didn’t get the chance to ask her out for dinner. As my thought came into conflict with each other, I came to a moment of enlightenment. I’m a model/ assassin! I don’t care about anything! I unboxed my beautiful wooden long ranged rifle. I fixed its scope on the gun. The gun had an experimental steam-powered automatic loading ammo holder attached to it. I poured myself a glass of Whisky, and steadied my sights. I waited for about thirty minutes for her to clear through the entire building. There were three unlit windows lined up diagonally on the top three floors. As I aimed my sights, I heard the growling of a bear. Suddenly a barrage of limbs and blood flew out of the last right window on the first floor. Boom! An explosion left the room soaked red.
I had to move quickly before Bell decided to move. I eyed the second floor. There was a silhouette of a man. I pulled my trigger. Bam! The bullet flew through my target. He fell down to the floor. It seemed someone had set up a cardboard mannequin. The bullet went straight through it into a crate of Jello, and knocked down 15 gallons of water. The room quickly filled up with Jello. All that Jello was wasted. Boy, I wish I were that cardboard man. I peered up to the third floor window. I saw quick movement, and my trigger fingered squeezed once more. Bam! The bullet flew through the window, and hit a curious looking science experiment. A mixture of chemicals misted the window deep red. I had one last window to check before I had to run. I pointed my rifle once more. A man entered the room. Bam! It hit a large assortment of Spanish dishes from the night before. A big bowl of salsa splashed the slightly cracked light blue windows red. The man quickly ran from his room. There was a diagonal line of four red colored windows in contrast to the blue windows surrounding them. I quickly packed up my rifle, and the amazing amount of possessions I had with me. I ran to my room door. BAM! “Pretty sneaky sis!” I said with what strength I had. It was Dora Rodriguez with a smoking gun. I looked down at my rock steady six-pack, and blood was dripping out like the cork popped off a finely aged wine. Dora’s face lit up with maniacal laughter. “I always knew the poor would screw me over!” I shouted at her. “I’M NOT POOR AT ALL HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” She screamed at me. Dora tore her plastic face off to reveal Alex Graham Bell! “You’ll rot in hell Bell! You’ll ROT IN HELL BELL! YOU’LL ROT IN HELLS
BELLS!” My last breathed echoed to the moon itself. He aimed his gun once more at me. BAM! The End of Act Four
V. It was a NoGood Night
A rat trembled as he ran into the small crack of light in the underground sewer. The sewers were filled with blood, urine, and alcohol. Only the most mental of the downright insane came down here, and me: Johnny NoGood. I was on a mission. I filled the sewer with bricks of TNT and cigarette smoke. The explosion was a direct hit under the hotels. If Bell survived this, he could escape the sixth layer of hell. I carefully laid down wire while climbing up the ladder. I popped out at the top of the sewer, and rolled the rest of the wheel of wire behind the backside of the Newbury Hotels. There was a massive panic in the air. Many of the Hotel’s guests ran from the building. It seems my fellow colleagues had the advanced skill of blowing hell to high water. I lit the spark to the explosives, and ran as fast as I could. The Hotels erupted into
an inferno. The TNT created a noise that could shake the earth flat. Mother Nature snorted death from the air like a junkie desperate for a fix. A flaming corpse jumped out at me from the fire. I lit a cigarette and turned around. I knew exactly who it was. “Telecommunications is a very important advancement to mankind. You will never prevent such an enormous leap in technology.” Bell’s corpse said before landing on the ground. I threw my cigarette at his burning face. “I’ll telecommunicate my fist ripping out your nervous system.” I growled back. My cancerous lungs let out a deep breath, I thought about Pearl. The corpse ran at me. I jump kicked him as another explosion went off. It sent wood splinters flying into his back. Agony filled his face. I was just getting started. I sent my knee into his stomach. His previous meal splattered onto the ground. In a rare moment of charity, I fed the man a swift kick from a hard leather boot. His flaming body melted my boot to the ground. Bell held up his flaming fist in preparation for a strike, and squealed like a tortured Hyena. He dove his fist first towards me. His first hit collided with my chest. My heart skipped a beat. Why wasn’t I dead? I reached for my breast pocket. It was my pack of cigarettes. They had saved my life. “There’s nothing in the world that can stop a man and a loyal pack of cigarettes.” I said. I pushed myself out of the dirt, and unleashed a massive punch that rattled his rib cage. He fell to the ground whimpering in pain. “YOU’RE NO GOOD JOHNNY!” Said the flaming corpse of Alex Graham Bell. I stood above him in the cold starlight. He brought back nostalgic memories to me. “When my Mom use to read me stories, at the end she’d say ‘There are no good nights… Only Death.’” I said. I felt no sympathy for him. I withdrew my single shot pistol. BAM!
The End.
