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  #1  
Old 05-25-2014, 01:48 PM
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Default Sack Time


Gallo was half awake as he rolled over. Most
of the night had been spent shifting positions
on the Chicadee Cheep motel's battle beaten mattress.

Posturepedic it wasn't but it had seen
six presidents go through their terms.

This turn took Gallo out of bed onto the
plywood floor. The fall was cushioned
by his Engineer boots. The left one was now
under the back of his head. The other
pressing up against the small of
of his back. It had shifted a vertebrae
and the effect was an easing of the
constant chronic pain.

Not five minutes passed before Gallo
was snoring peacefully.

That's where he was laying as the
5am dawn got announced by two shotgun blasts
that tore through the veneer sheathed balsa wood door and
raked the bedsheets.

Being certain he had not requested a wake up
call from the night clerk when he checked in
Gallo figured someone had the wrong room.

But he knew it is always wise to be cautious.
His right hand had pulled a S&W .357
Snubbie from the left ankle holster
(he only took it off when showering).

He had the Scandium framed piece in a
firm two hand grip with his arms at a forty-five degree angle from the floor
when the door was kicked open. There stood
the biggest man he had ever seen. More than six feet of muscle
in a black t shirt and baggy blue jeans.

The guy had just broke
the double barrel. The shells were falling
and his left hand was in his left
front pocket fishin' for a fresh set.

The J frame's blue flame bark put a neat little hole
just under his belt buckle.
The next round went off at the height
of recoil. Entered just above the collarbones
and exited below the skull bottom.

On its way through the so called reptile
brain had been pierced. The big boy took
half a step back and dropped like a sack
of wet sand. One exhaled gasp and he was still.

From a height that would be just below an average man's shoulder
the door frame edge spurted a orange yellow
flash. The bed's pillow
took the bullet hit. The shooter stepped around
his former partner and got off one more .45 Long Colt revolver
bang (the pillow puffed out foam bits from its far side).

His silver boot tips stopped at the soles of Gallo's
sock covered feet. He looked down in just
enough time to see the last three 110 grain
lead hollow points fly up to greet him. They
crunched through his rib cage (fan blade mushrooming open from the impact)
collecting shreds of the lung and heart before perforating
the back and depositing their debris at the
wall and ceiling junction just above the doorway.

This guy couldn't have been more than a hundred
and thirty pounds. He fell face down onto
the bed. Final resting place.

Gallo had never minded being an early riser
when the occasion warrants. He pulled on his
jeans and boots, yanked his leather jacket from
the chair back and had it on over his
t shirt as he glanced out the door. No one
around. Droppin' his empty gun into the inside jacket pocket
he slipped onto his bike. One
look over his shoulder for safety
then his right thumb pushed the
start button.

The '84 FXR coughed twice as it rumbled into life.

Gallo pushed the S&S choke bar down and
throttled on to keep from stallin' the cold
motor. A clutch lever squeeze followed by a
gear shift foot tap had him rollin' on out
towards the highway. He stopped at the
check in office.

While the bike idled in neutral (with the wick keeper twisted)
on a down kickstand Gallo stood at the
desk and informed the clerk he wanted to register a complaint
about the room service
personnel. The
kid behind the desk was albino pale
and speechless. Gallo reached
for the grey index card box where he had seen
his check in card disappear. Opening it he saw
his on top. He pulled it out, crushed it
into a jean pocket, looked at the
mute and said "Let's call it even".

Eight minutes later he was doin' sixty
in a westerly direction on the Texas interstate.

The town's lights were a small glint in the
rear view mirrors and Mexico was a
warm, spicy whiff coming from the left.

Mmm- hungry.

Breakfast- well, breakfast was just over
the horizon.

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Old 05-25-2014, 05:21 PM
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And...?
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Old 05-25-2014, 08:11 PM
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Originally Posted by JustcallmeEd View Post
And...?
Finished now.
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Old 05-25-2014, 08:32 PM
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Ha! The best line was, "Gallo had never minded being an early riser..." That about had me rolling on the floor.

God damn, Nick, you say it well.

BTW, that's one well-tuned bike to sit there idling right after being kicked over after sitting all night. Choke or not.
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Old 05-25-2014, 09:19 PM
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Originally Posted by JustcallmeEd View Post

BTW, that's one well-tuned bike to sit there idling right after being kicked over after sitting all night. Choke or not.
There is a throttle hold knob just under the grip that gets turned clockwise.
It keeps a warming bike lit by keeping the wick twisted slightly.

Looks like I better figure how to insert this info.

I'm thinkin' you know ya gotta get the choke off as soon as possible to keep plug fouling down.
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Old 05-25-2014, 09:49 PM
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Originally Posted by Nick Pierce View Post
There is a throttle hold knob just under the grip that gets turned clockwise.
It keeps a warming bike lit by keeping the wick twisted slightly.

Looks like I better figure how to insert this info.

I'm thinkin' you know ya gotta get the choke off as soon as possible to keep plug fouling down.
Never was a bike rider. Was always into hot-rod trucks.
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Old 05-28-2014, 08:59 AM
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Poetry before breakfast eh? That's a hard lifestyle, but if we are getting technical, he did reload yes?
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Old 05-28-2014, 09:25 AM
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I was wondering the same thing...(not like Nick to miss a detail...)
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Old 06-10-2014, 11:48 PM
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amazingly detailed descriptions, especially the shootings.

never read anything quite like that before. some gritty shit ...
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:37 AM
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Icon4 Sack Time

In this draft, the plot is delivered in three scenes. Very tight. Every word counts.
The strongest point, of course, is the imagery. Through, the third scene the sounds and touch, especially the hard mattress gives the reader a strong connection.

Also, the character is somewhat likeable. We sympathize with him as he is more than a tourist about to be robbed now. He is the Man who is going to get this
guy back. We like that.

A second draft should play around with the scene in which he decides to report the break-in to front desk. Use a character who doesn't necessarily not like the protagonist, but who wants to give him a hard time. Lengthen the scene with a little comedy. The ending paragraph is fine as it is.
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:13 PM
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Originally Posted by JP_Inkswell View Post
Poetry before breakfast eh? That's a hard lifestyle, but if we are getting technical, he did reload yes?

Yes. From a speed strip he always carried in his Levi's watch pocket. But not until he was well clear of the commotion.
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:18 PM
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Originally Posted by JustcallmeEd View Post
BTW, that's one well-tuned bike to sit there idling right after being kicked over after sitting all night. Choke or not.

Okay. I fixed that detail.

Now if Gallo would just print the fucker out I could put up another part of the story.
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:23 PM
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Originally Posted by rockman View Post
amazingly detailed descriptions, especially the shootings.

never read anything quite like that before. some gritty shit ...


Bar Talk

(available via the search function)
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:27 PM
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Originally Posted by Escriber* View Post
In this draft, the plot is delivered in three scenes. Very tight. Every word counts.
The strongest point, of course, is the imagery. Through, the third scene the sounds and touch, especially the hard mattress gives the reader a strong connection.

Also, the character is somewhat likeable. We sympathize with him as he is more than a tourist about to be robbed now. He is the Man who is going to get this
guy back. We like that.

A second draft should play around with the scene in which he decides to report the break-in to front desk. Use a character who doesn't necessarily not like the protagonist, but who wants to give him a hard time. Lengthen the scene with a little comedy. The ending paragraph is fine as it is.

Thanks for the comments.

This piece is part of a story (The Righteous Ride of Gallopin' Gallo) that I sketched and am fleshing out.

Thanks again for your suggestions.
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:28 PM
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Yeah, 'cause we all know Nick's just a mild-mannered accountant who's never seen a gun except in those shiny catalogues.

He Googles all his gritty shit.
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Old 06-14-2014, 11:35 PM
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Originally Posted by JustcallmeEd View Post
Yeah, 'cause we all know Nick's just a mild-mannered accountant who's never seen a gun except in those shiny catalogues.

He Googles all his gritty shit.

3:30 in the Florida am and this got me grinnin'.

Pardon me while I go check to see my Springfield is still in Condition 1.
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  #17  
Old 06-15-2014, 06:58 AM
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Phone books work better than the glossies when you're sitting on the throne, Nick.
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  #18  
Old 06-15-2014, 07:07 AM
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My dad had a gun you'd like, Nick. An aught-six made for the Russian Army during The Great War by Westinghouse. Originally a sniper's rifle, the man Dad got it from had it cut down to a more manageable length for deer hunting. It had a compass in the stock which was backwards (south pointing north) but other that that it was a damn good gun.

Dad traded a black and white zebra-skin pattern vibrating naugahyde chaise lounge for it. He said it was the best trade he ever made.
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Old 08-12-2014, 02:16 PM
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Pretty good. It flies.
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  #20  
Old 12-10-2015, 02:38 AM
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Originally Posted by Nick Pierce View Post
Gallo was half awake as he rolled over. Most
of the night had been spent shifting positions
on the Chicadee Cheep motel's battle beaten mattress.

Posturepedic it wasn't but it had seen
six presidents go through their terms.

This turn took Gallo out of bed onto the
plywood floor. The fall was cushioned
by his Engineer boots. The left one was now
under the back of his head. The other
pressing up against the small of
of his back. It had shifted a vertebrae
and the effect was an easing of the
constant chronic pain.

Not five minutes passed before Gallo
was snoring peacefully.

That's where he was laying as the
5am dawn got announced by two shotgun blasts
that tore through the veneer sheathed balsa wood door and
raked the bedsheets.

Being certain he had not requested a wake up
call from the night clerk when he checked in
Gallo figured someone had the wrong room.

But he knew it is always wise to be cautious.
His right hand had pulled a S&W .357
Snubbie from the left ankle holster
(he only took it off when showering).

He had the Scandium framed piece in a
firm two hand grip with his arms at a forty-five degree angle from the floor
when the door was kicked open. There stood
the biggest man he had ever seen. More than six feet of muscle
in a black t shirt and baggy blue jeans.

The guy had just broke
the double barrel. The shells were falling
and his left hand was in his left
front pocket fishin' for a fresh set.

The J frame's blue flame bark put a neat little hole
just under his belt buckle.
The next round went off at the height
of recoil. Entered just above the collarbones
and exited below the skull bottom.

On its way through the so called reptile
brain had been pierced. The big boy took
half a step back and dropped like a sack
of wet sand. One exhaled gasp and he was still.

From a height that would be just below an average man's shoulder
the door frame edge spurted a orange yellow
flash. The bed's pillow
took the bullet hit. The shooter stepped around
his former partner and got off one more .45 Long Colt revolver
bang (the pillow puffed out foam bits from its far side).

His silver boot tips stopped at the soles of Gallo's
sock covered feet. He looked down in just
enough time to see the last three 110 grain
lead hollow points fly up to greet him. They
crunched through his rib cage (fan blade mushrooming open from the impact)
collecting shreds of the lung and heart before perforating
the back and depositing their debris at the
wall and ceiling junction just above the doorway.

This guy couldn't have been more than a hundred
and thirty pounds. He fell face down onto
the bed. Final resting place.

Gallo had never minded being an early riser
when the occasion warrants. He pulled on his
jeans and boots, yanked his leather jacket from
the chair back and had it on over his
t shirt as he glanced out the door. No one
around. Droppin' his empty gun into the inside jacket pocket
he slipped onto his bike. One
look over his shoulder for safety
then his right thumb pushed the
start button.

The '84 FXR coughed twice as it rumbled into life.

Gallo pushed the S&S choke bar down and
throttled on to keep from stallin' the cold
motor. A clutch lever squeeze followed by a
gear shift foot tap had him rollin' on out
towards the highway. He stopped at the
check in office.

While the bike idled in neutral (with the wick keeper twisted)
on a down kickstand Gallo stood at the
desk and informed the clerk he wanted to register a complaint
about the room service
personnel. The
kid behind the desk was albino pale
and speechless. Gallo reached
for the grey index card box where he had seen
his check in card disappear. Opening it he saw
his on top. He pulled it out, crushed it
into a jean pocket, looked at the
mute and said "Let's call it even".

Eight minutes later he was doin' sixty
in a westerly direction on the Texas interstate.

The town's lights were a small glint in the
rear view mirrors and Mexico was a
warm, spicy whiff coming from the left.

Mmm- hungry.

Breakfast- well breakfast was just over
the horizon.

Mr.Pierce, do you think I should change the bullet weight to 124 and make it jacketed?

Why would you do that, Nick?

Because any lesser weight has a tendency, in such a light revolver, to experience crimp jump somewhere around the third trigger press.

And?

And that can/has locked up the cylinder rotation effectively shutting down the firing ability.

Oh. I see. Well, Nick, I really don't think the average reader would know that.

Yeah, I 'spect you're right, P., thanks for lettin' me bounce that concern off ya.

Anytime, Nick, anytime.
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  #21  
Old 12-10-2015, 09:04 PM
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Yer probably disgusted at the company you keep here, Nick, that no one pointed that out yet...we were just seeing how long it'd take you to fix it.
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Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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  #22  
Old 12-11-2015, 02:46 AM
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Originally Posted by Prodigalson View Post
Yer probably disgusted at the company you keep here, Nick, that no one pointed that out yet...we were just seeing how long it'd take you to fix it.
Well, you did bust me on the unchoked, unstalling cold motor right away.

And I knew, when I initially wrote it, that the wick keeper was the right way to keep it lit but I did not put that in because I wanted Gallo on the road ASAP.

But noooo, you had to point that out and WHAM! the piece became a half line longer.

Thank you for reading, thinking and commenting.

Yeah.
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  #23  
Old 12-14-2015, 06:53 AM
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I liked this - looking in the mirror now, what's wrong with me?
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Old 12-14-2015, 10:25 AM
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Your welcome, Nick. Anytime I can needle someone who knows more about their subject than I do I'm happy to do so.
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Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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Old 12-14-2015, 02:29 PM
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Originally Posted by Tor View Post
I liked this - looking in the mirror now, what's wrong with me?
Nothing wrong with you. Gallo is a scamp.
And who can resist the appeal of a scamps antics.
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Old 12-14-2015, 02:34 PM
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Originally Posted by Prodigalson View Post
Your welcome, Nick. Anytime I can needle someone who knows more about their subject than I do I'm happy to do so.

Hey, Mr. Moderator, how about moving this over to the Fiction page so some of the heavy hitters can take a few swings at it?
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Old 12-14-2015, 11:27 PM
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Dammit. Now I gotta work.
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Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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Old 12-16-2015, 01:27 PM
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Hey, this was entertaining!

The only bones I have with it is the parenthesis. That text really slows down the story.

The other, is with the big guy with the shotgun. Was he just cocky? If they knew this man was dangerous he probably would have reloaded before stepping in the doorway.

Good luck!
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Old 12-16-2015, 02:42 PM
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Originally Posted by Rhein13 View Post
Hey, this was entertaining!

The only bones I have with it is the parenthesis. That text really slows down the story.

The other, is with the big guy with the shotgun. Was he just cocky? If they knew this man was dangerous he probably would have reloaded before stepping in the doorway.

Good luck!
Yeah, the parentheses are a type of birth defect in my style. Some day I hope to find a corrective treatment.

Two shotgun blasts through the door that raked the bed where the victim was presumed to be sleeping would have neutralized the occupant. He was reloading out of habit to not have an empty firearm. The other guy with the .45 Long Colt caliber revolver was a back up.

Whether they knew Gallo or had mistaken him for someone else or were simply stealing his bike and making sure he didn't come after them or were simply thrill killers has always been an undetermined aspect of the event.

Kinda like what had happened to the world before The Road story starts.

Okay, thanks for acting on my suggestion.

I will be returning the courtesy when you post work.
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Old 12-16-2015, 03:43 PM
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It's tough sometimes when you only get a snippet. It's tough to truly know each character and their motives so thats why I pointed it out just incase.

I miss obvious things all the time! But that usually has to do with a girls vagueness when they try to subtly suggest they're into me, lol.
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