The Unbearable Likeness of Being Max

"Immobile," Max repeated.

The three hitmen stood around him, glancing at each other. Max stood up and brushed himself off. Thug lowered his gun and shrugged; he really didn't know what to make of the situation.

"What was that?" Thug asked.

"Yeah," Goon emphasized by smacking his fist into the palm of his hand.

"The sum of your victory depends on your mathematical problem solving," Max stated. He gauged the three men, he knew he had the situation well under control, he just wanted to play them. Curious to see how far he could take them.

"Let's quit stalling," Mook said. "Let's do this and get it over with."

"You're immortal behaviour depends on the input of the design," Max told Mook. He could feel the bullet in his arm, working out. He was willing it to dislodge, and it seemed to be working.

Shifting In, Dining Out

"You going to eat those?" Goner asked of Max. He was pointing at the plate, since he had already wolfed down his hamburger deluxe. His stomach needed to be satisfied.

Max slid over his plate and said, "It's yours."

Max wasn't really that hungry. Just a few fries and that was all he needed to fuel up on. He took the cigarette from the ashtray; it was close to the filter.

Goner attacked the fries on the plate with a fork. He was hungry and he hadn't had a decent meal in days. Max took a long puff from the cigarette and then butted it out in the ashtray.

Angst returned from the washroom and slid in beside Goner. "What's the plan?" she asked.

"I really don't know as of yet," Max replied.

"You think this storm is over?" Angst questioned. They had gone through several shifts in realities in the span of a few hours.

"I really don't know," Max answered honestly. 

"I hope that the other team is fine," Angst said. She glanced out the window. The night beckoned to her like an old lover.

Listening to the Night Surf

The sound of the surf was soothing as it lapped up onto the shore; somewhere a guitar was playing around a campfire and many voices were echoing a chorus. Maggie sat on an outcropping close to the water; she was sitting on her hands and looking up at the stars.

A boat drifted by in the night; its lights were on and the sound of more merriment came across the water. It was, after all, the birthday of a nation and everyone had reason to celebrate. The sound of someone approaching snapped Maggie out of her daydreaming; she turned to face whoever was coming.

"You coming back to the campfire?" a voice asked out of the darkness.

"Not just yet," she replied. "I'm enjoying my solitude here."

"You miss him don't you?" the voice asked.

"Yeah," Maggie said. She turned back to face the water, as tears began to form in her eyes.

MORGANFOKKER SAYS THAT YOU ARE A SLAVE TO FORCES BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION AND CONTROL

A Matter of Music

Suki met Max's eyes and she could see that he was ready for business. The sound of combat still echoed around them, bullets slamming against the concrete walls, chipping away and trying to get through.

"If we are going to do this," he said, "we are going to be doing this my way."

Max ejected the empty clips, they fell to the floor, and he slapped in some new ones. He looked at Suki, who had the Godhammer in her hand, and winked. "Time for some Rock and Roll."

"Time for some J-pop!" she corrected.

Finding an Artifact

Maggie lay down on the rock outcropping; she had binoculars and was scanning the valley below. She could pick up the three forms down at the base of the pyramid. She wished that she had a stronger setting so that should could zoom in and see what was going on.

Beside her on the ground was a map of this section of South America. And there was some hand written notes scribbled along the borders. She was satisfied that the information was indeed correct. She took the items off the ground.

She crawled back from the ledge and stood up. She dusted off her clothes and tossed the binoculars onto the ground. She turned to the duffel bag, knelt and unzipped it.

She took out a mesh vest, her katana, an uzi with a dozen clips, and two Widley Wolfs with several cartridges. She picked up the mp3 player; it was battered and scratched and had what appeared to be specks of blood, now faded to a dark brown. She looked at it, as an archaeologist would do to a rare find.

A tear welled up in her eye, and a soft smile cracked the serious look on her face.

Faux News

Car-jacker Gets Surprise
by Mall Walker
Rouge City Press

A would-be car-jacker chose the wrong car to steal this morning, authorities said. 

The suspect tapped the car window Wednesday morning with a gun and motioned the driver to get out, Chief Deputy Mike Markers said.

Before the driver opened the door, a young lady wearing huge gauntlets and a cowboy hat came out of nowhere. She slammed the would-be car-jacker into the ground, and hit him several times.

A shot was fired during the scuffle but no one was hurt, Markers said. He said the driver managed to call 911. When police arrived the occupant of the car was looking over the would-be car-jacker.

Police have arrested the would-be car-jacker and are looking for the heroine who stopped him. Anyone seeing a young girl in a cowboy hat and huge gloves are asked to call the RCPD.

A Random Encounter of Sorts

Kowloon was busy this time of the year, as citizens prepared for the upcoming festival. It was approaching fast and merchants where stocking up on trade so that when the tourists arrived, they would be gouged out of some pretty money.

Though it was early morning, the streets were packed with sardine-like people going about their business. The city was bursting with tons of folk, for Kowloon rarely slept.

Mags walked down familiar streets - she was dressed in jeans and a tank-top - and took in the sights. She stopped at a fruit vendor, peered about the apples and selected one, handing the vendor a crisp bill and he smiled in return. Mags continued on her merry way.

She crossed the street and headed towards The Shiny Sun, a greasy spoon of a restaurant that specialized in Western food. And she was in the mood for some greasy high-cholesterol goodness. The chime jingled above the door as she entered, the restaurant was nearly packed.

"Maggie!" a voice called.

She looked over and spotted someone she hadn't seen in a little while. A smile flashed upon her face and she strolled over to the table.

Reflection on a Cold Starry Night

Akimoto stood there looking at the stars; he let out a huge sigh. His breath drifted out into the cold, escaping from the warmth of the body and into the still of the night.

"Missing someone, are we?" Max asked. He walked up to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Yes," Akimoto said. He continued looking up at the heavens. He watched as meteorites streaked across the sky, which brought a smile to his face. There was a sensation that he felt, when he saw the streaking rocks across the sky; it was the sensation you felt when you were going home again. 

And at Night They Danced til Dawn...

Angst, Mags and Suki were on the dance-floor letting the techno beat consume their souls like the devil that music was. Amongst the throngs of the beautiful people; bodies sweating to the pulsating sounds of rhythms past, present and future.

It was times like these that made each adventure a blessing, a world saved unbeknownst to the inhabitants; they go about their business without a thought to what horrors would have befallen them if they opened their eyes a little wider. To peer beyond the darkness, and see for true the evil that lies waiting; like a rabid dog ready to snap at any moment.

Goner sat at the booth, sipping a drink and watching the girls dance. He was about to slip out and join them when a big hand shoved him back down into the booth. He looked up and saw a trio of suited men standing before him.

"Where you think you are going, Goner?" one of them asked.

"I have to bleed the lizard," Goner lied. 

"Well, you can hold it," the other said. He stood in front of the booth looking down at the table and at Goner. He noticed the several drinks on the table.

"Here by yourself?" another asked.

"Ummm, yeah," Goner answered. He saw that Suki had glanced over at the table, and then she stopped dancing and tapped Angst.

"Goner, you knew we'd catch up with you eventually," said the fellow. He slid into the other side of the booth. "You owe Bartinallo a lot of money."

"Crap," Goner said. "That had slipped my mind."

"You know what we are going to do with you," one of the goons said.

"I would be leaving if I were you guys," he warned. "There's a girl that's going to be showing up here and she is going to give you guys a serious thrashing."

The trio chuckled.

"Maybe we ought to give her a surprise or two," one of them joked. 

"Well, officially fellows, you've been warned," Goner said.

> Maggie in Plureality

Max pulled the flaps of the tent back, sweat dripping from his brow, the sound of the drumming and clapping filling his ears. He didn’t know how they did it, sitting in the sweat-tent waiting on the spirits to guide them, speak to them.  

  

His eyes struggled to focus but he could make out Maggie’s figure through the soft glow of the moon. The smoke from the campfire swirling around her, almost like it was dancing with her, kissing across her face and whirling away like the key to their freedom was a soft brush across her lips. He understood that feeling, despite how often she made him angry, nervous, and all together ungrounded. His heart hurt looking at her and he smiled. 

  

“Damn it.” He loved her. Maybe he had learned something in the sweat tent after all, he thought, pulling himself quickly to his knees. 

  

The snapping just behind the tent was the first clue that they had been set up. He wondered if he was the only one who had noticed. He stood statue still, his eyes glancing over to her again, watching her lean in laughing to Frank and he smiled to himself as she gracefully swooped down, pulling the pistol from her ankle boot. Her eyes turned and met his, almost like she had always sensed him there. It was like that for them. She smiled and nodded. 

  

 “That’s my girl,” he thought, as all hell broke lose.

Twilight Chill

The sun began to sink beyond the horizon bringing out the twilight. The street-lights began their merry humming, kicking in to light the way for passersby, to hold back the night in patches so that the illusion of safety is there.

Max and Frank waited by the park. Frank huddled in his long coat, holding a cup of coffee in his hands, while Max leaned up against a lamppost, smoking a cigarette. Looking like rejects from the Exiles On Main Streets painting.

"Damn cold out this evening," Frank said. "I hate winter."

"And she probably hates you as well," Max interjected. He flicked the butt from his hands and it arced across the sky like a comet, landing on the damp pavement and extinguishing its life in the process.

The Drop Zone

Max came down the stairs; he hit the bottom floor and glanced down the hallway. He walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a butter knife from the counter and placed it into the rucksack and slung it on his back.

He went into the study and hit the play button on the computer, his playlist of songs that he had chosen the night before. He put on the earphones and adjusted the sound on the computer and nodded. He walked out the patio door where he dove over the rail.

Apartment 909
Constance Talons stepped from the patio doors and out onto the balcony; she had on a flowing housecoat and was carrying a cup of coffee. She had the morning paper tucked underneath her arm, she placed the coffee down onto the table. And put the paper on the railing. Max zipped pass and grabbed the paper.

Apartment 609
Darel LaPointe was enjoying his morning crescent and his coffee. He sat and watched the sun slowly crawl from the east. The sky was cloudless so it was going to be another beautiful day. He glanced at his wristwatch and turned to the side. He took an envelope that was sitting on the table and held it out over the railing and within seconds it was gone.

Apartment 309
Kristal Vancourt & Allyse Nolle were leaning up against the balcony. Allyse was leaning back and looking and then turned to Kristal.

"He's one his way," Allyse said.

"Who is he?" Kristal asked. "Like a version of Jackie Chan?"

"Who knows," Allyse said. "But he's dreamy."

Kristal rolled her eyes and took three bobby pins and held them out over the side of the railing and they were gone in a blurred action.

"And why is he doing that?" Kristal asked. "Like why can't he use the elevator?"