The New Neighbour

Adult (or at least semi-adult) story; follow the link if you want to read it anyway: The New Neighbour

The Dead Son

“The cunt feels she's ready for it, I bet!” said the captain to one of his men. “Thereby we shall for now seem to be innocent of the crime that happened to one of her sons! I suppose you want to seem innocent, don't you?!” the captain asked. The soldier he was talking to was the one who was drilling the deceased man.

“Thank you sir!” the man said.

“Good! Thereby we shall arrange for her to have a proper funeral! And we shall see to it that we shall seem to be responsible for doing away with any uncertainties about how her son died! Understood?!”

“Understood, captain!”

Two weeks later, the funeral was about to happen. The mother still rather anxious to get all the information she could about where the soldier who drilled her son to death was. Little did she suspect that it was exactly he who had just been telling her about the funeral proceedings that the army had paid for for her. He had been very polite, which he continued being when adding that “It will be settled that you will be able to speak to the people involved as soon as the funeral!”

She felt grateful. “Thank you sir officer!” she said.

The next day, at the funeral, she saw the officer she had been talking to, and then she realized that he could have been involved in the drill that killed her son. But she didn't think of him as a very guilty person, since she had just recently been so politely treated by him, and also because she associated him with the fact that the funeral was being held, and that it was a dignified enough procedure for her and her son.

“I will,” her second cousin said to her in a low voice, “see to it that there's no officer present who doesn't fit in with those who have something to do with the crime committed! And I will see to it that no one of them actually gets away with the crime of disturbing our family!”

Relieved, she answered: “Thank you, Laura! It will be much better for us to the extent we can find and persecute the guilty ones!”

“Good!” Laura said. “I will get paid for doing so by the family of the deceased man!”

The mother of the deceased looked a little bit chocked and answered: “Oh! I'll see to it that my husband handles that!”

“Good!” Laura said and disappeared from her.

After an additional two weeks Laura sat with the father of the deceased and demanded to get paid.

“Slow down a bit!” he answered. “I haven't gotten any real evidence that it was exactly the man you've been telling me it was! I really need to know, and that's the hard-proof way, exactly who was doing what at the time - or at least something of clarity about who was given which orders, and which ones were obeying them!”

“I feel that since they are soldiers they committed the crime in conspiracy, all of them! But if you give me a hundred more bucks, then I will fix that they can no longer conspire so well against us!”

“Alright!” he said and handed her a hundred-dollar bill.

After three more days the woman was back and demanded another five hundred, “since the officers are on my trail and the police will have it that I can't look into their business without them having to get bribed for not involving themselves!”

Reluctantly he paid her that amount too!

After another month of her demanding more and more money four additional payments, all in all two and a half thousand dollars, the woman suddenly disappeared. But the father of the deceased soldier was charged with arranging for humiliation of the officers that were supposedly guilty of his son's death. Meanwhile Laura was on vacation far away, and had arranged never to return. Because she was much more bad to her relatives than the someone who had just failed in a mission. Because it was actually she who had also gotten paid about four hundred dollars by the military for tricking the victim's family about who was responsible!

"That's What a Good Man Should Be!"

“Oh my god! Why does he have to pretend they are so cool!? I mean they are just ordinary women who happen to fancy themselves as pornography.”

Her mother looked at her and answered: “I bet your boyfriend is a bit fed up with not being seen as a masculine enough guy to be the one to reign over his own potency.”

“Mama! I still feel it's inadequate to say it's all about their lusts. I mean he wouldn't speak to them unless he already was getting feedback from their pictures in the sense the the isn't into porn for the reason that they seem filthy enough for him - I believe it when he tells me that! But he's into it because they're seemingly into none sex of sorts with him for the reason of having a clue to why they're immature about their sexuality.”

“Oh, in that case he must just be one of those men who really need to talk to them whores. Or is it that he's already said that to you?”

“I bet she wants to see him there as well! Mama! I don't need to be shown how to participate in a male orgy about female filth.”

“I bet you don't know how to participate, then, in the first place? I bet you don't even know what he's getting into when he says to ya' that he isn't into sex right now or that he has other things on his mind for the time being.”

“Oh, I know how to handle that kind of stuff. I just don't feel that he's feeling good enough for them, while at the same time that he's being arrogant about feeling I'm the one he easily manages to be good enough for.”

“Then how come you keep on staying with him? I mean if that's how he is, then you should just leave him. I left every fellow behind who even at all faked that I was below those who are into pornography.”

“But he's not faking that part. ... I know it's true that he loves me and finds them to be - sort of, at least - all surface.”

“Then I,” her mother answered her with a serious air to her, “think you shouldn't try to feel that he is appreciating what they really are, but just that he is on the surface himself that male person that you're trying to become pregnant with.”

“I feel that he's not on the surface in that he tells me all about what he feels when he's looking at their porn pix. I feel he's not trying to disdain me, nor that he's trying to fake that I have to trust in him for no good reason or something. Instead, I feel that we all are into disdaining him for no good reason.”

“I feel,” her mother sighed, “that you in that case need go see a psychiatrist or psychologist. Because it's probably one of those who could help you figure out what's going on about such stuff. ”

“I feel that what the hell a psychiatrist could be for isn't any of my fucken business mom!”

“Alright, then! But how come, in that case, do you feel that he has the right to feel that he's into depth with you, when you are serious about starting a family with him?”

“I don't say that he feels very much that he's having the depth that I crave. I mean, mama, that I crave it, and that he has it in him to be a man with that in him. ... Mama, I don't need to blackmail a man just for having the kind of depth I feel this way about.”

Her mother looked troubled. She sharpened her voice when saying: “Don't you try, to humiliate me and your father with that kind of talk. He and I have had enough of your nonsense while you were growing up! We won't fake it, from now on, that you've been anything but the slut we shouldn't have screwed each other for her to become the reality we'd have to face in our later lives! He says to me on the phone sometimes that he is as fed up with you as I although he doesn't even deal with you, really.”

“Then how come they don't feel that I am an embarrassment, those men? Cause I have plenty of men to choose from! But I don't for that sake need to give up my fancy for depth in a man as a wonderful virtue in him - and for that sake I cannot give up the man that you've been telling me to scorn ever since I met him.”

“In that case you will no longer be part of this family. I have raised you, and now you are ungrateful! I will despise you forever from now on.”

"We All Have to Adapt to Them Anyway!"

“Why the fuck do girls keep on victimizing themselves?!

His friend Pat looked him, but didn't answer, not at first. But after thinking about it for a while he said “Perhaps, Charlie, they're after feeling innocent or so!”

“Then why do they keep feeling guilty just because I'm not satisfied, like in bed or so?!”

“I suppose it's because they think you'll have the authority to have them seem guilty unless they are into being it in too awkward ways for you, yourself, to accept!”

“Do you know what?! If we, you and I, spoilt them the same way they spoil us, then what would they pretend to be victims of?!”

“I suppose they would be victims of that you and I seduce them or something!”

“In that case,” Charlie responded, “why do they expect that I always feel that eager to find them selfishly interested in that I flatter them ... For example Cindy and the flowers I was supposed to bring on her birthday! Why the fuck were they bigger a deal than that I didn't want her in the first place?!”

“I guess it's like Tony says!” Patty responded. “They feel like pretending they're into a good relationship, be it bad - perhaps even worse than they can handle - or not!”

“Why the fuck do they feel like pretending that?!”

“Tony says it's because they all feel like being worshiped for being into social contexts that are superior to anyone who is low enough to be despised!”

“Oh! That's what they're at it for! And are even the whores that kind of vain, you think?!”

“Yeah! I guess they must be, since they're getting paid for being unpretentious about who they socialize with! ... I suppose they take it for granted that those low-lives they have for a night are actually creeps who only want them for sex!”

“Then what's the point in them, that they suck your dick or something, and then tell you you're great to be with and then also get your seventy dollars or something?!”

“I guess their point is that they are so good for sex or something that their imaginations about what they are can be fulfilled just by them being so laudable for seeming righteous even when they are in the wrong circumstance!”

“I suppose you mean the whores are clever at heating up the moment so it seems that they're not stuck up, while the other women keep trying to be pretentiously into surface-good enough relationships to be able to pretend they are godly or something! But then what do we have with the none-whores when they try to fit in with those that aren't into them as if God had something to do with them?!”

His friend thought about it for a while. “I guess,” he answered, “they feel they are so supreme that they don't feel like seeming sophisticated at being godly in a sense that could insinuate them to be fakers of having God with them!”

“I then think they are all sly, and that we thereby have to postpone their ability to pretend they're actually good enough for us!”

“Hmm. Yeah! I suppose you have a point there, ol' buddy!”

With that the two friends decided to change their attitudes to be of trial and error about how to deal with the women they both felt were scary in the way they seemed moral just for being vainly into seeming cool about God and goodness.

"It Seemed Awkward for Her at First, But ..."

Adult (or at least semi-adult) story; follow the link if you want to read it anyway: "It Seemed Awkward for Her at First, But ..."

The Thieving Network

In her eyes, he could see what he imagined was a smart trace of the happiness there is in escaping all sorts of disillusionment. But, contrary to his intuition about her, the woman before him acted very much like someone who had been cruelly disillusioned by life, both in general and specifically in his contexts. His father's business had been ruined by her insinuations of it as immature about that she and her smart-thief friends - half of whom seemed to be related to her. Even so, she was the one to accuse him, instead of the other way around.

It crossed his mind that they might be gypsies, but since they didn't much look like it, he felt that he had to dismiss that thought as not too safe to uphold, being something that might fairly easily later be labeled as prejudice, and thus make him vulnerable for blackmail from either them or possibly some other enemies. On the other hand, he figured, to the extent they actually were for example gypsies, they might have many more relatives or something that could come out of the darkness and blackmail him either way. If so, he would be rather defenseless, perhaps, if he did not defend himself by using exactly prejudice against their kind.

With this dilemma in mind he looked again at the shoplifter before him and said. “I don't have any way to judge you as being as innocent as you seem to think you are! We can't but ruin your so pathetic life by having the police take you into custody!”

She looked him in the eyes and said: “I don't feel you are trying to find out what kind of misery I'm in because of you! They can see the way we work on having the torments society causes us be rendered defenseless against our attempts to make use of the emphasize that the kinds of vanities that there are in society for even the poor people's sake.”

“I see that you're trying to say - again,” he told her, “that you're the ones I should pity, and thereby perhaps also be vulnerable for your attempts to same me into misery! But you and the likes of you are thieves and robbers, who should definitely be nailed by the police! .... Or actually, perhaps you do prefer that we use some other method against you?”

She looked at him with a somewhat sophisticated air of astonishment, which he felt reluctantly that he couldn't resist as a reason for feeling - strangely, he thought - fairly much pity for her - although he knew she could be the one to deserve such feelings form him. It was he who was threatened by her and her family, not the other way around. His father had been here with the shop he was working in since fairly long before she and her people settled near it. It was simply smart and sophisticated acting in her; he knew that! But, even so, he could not help but feeling the pity that would destroy his fathers old business.

Meanwhile, his wife did call the police, who came there and arrested the lady. After they left, he his wife and their fourteen-year-old son discussed the thieves who had settled near their shop. His wife said that they were not gypsies, thought some of them were. “Probably,” she added, “they are both that and for example Italian, because some of them seem that kind of self-assured that only someone with something of southern Italian in them can, I think. ... Even so, honey, we can't actually, I think, be trapped by their possible mafia connections, since they probably are discarded as misfits by even them. But I don't feel totally safe about them, just the same!”

“Damned!” her husband answered.

After a while their son asked: “Is there a mafia connection in every Italian or so?”

His parents both smiled at this, but said they could not say to themselves that it was safe to assume with many of them that they were no such connections!

“Then how come,” their son asked, “do they beg for a living? I mean wouldn't be better off working as mafia bosses or something?”

His parents both giggled at him. “Obviously,” his mother replied, “they cannot take themselves as the bosses of their business, but if their business is to pretend to be oppressed by us honest people, then, perhaps they can be part of that top gangster's syndicate, even though they live in what one can consider a slum!”

His father added that “Their business isn't usually legit in any case, so I guess they can feel something like Why not exercise our rights to seem innocent, and then have them, meaning us, pay for their, meaning our, seeming innocence. By pretending in such a way, they will make themselves, and thereby their bosses, seem innocent!”

“Then how come the mafia bosses are seemingly guilty?! I mean they seem much more guilty than, say, the gypsies, although they're thieves just as much as the Italians it seems! Really dad and mom, there should be something to protect the people who ruin their business by pretending the gypsies are innocent, and then perhaps we could all be employed by that kind of syndicate instead of running this business that they complain about?!”

Now both his parents laughed a little at him. “Are you serious?” they asked.

“No!” he answered. “But I am serious about making this a business that we can rely on to be smart enough to survive both the gypsies and the Italians, which I think we can do, just as long as we have it the gypsies are respectable in that they can, almost like the Italians, seem innocent by being able to complain about honest people, and thus turning good and evil into each other!”

It was not innocent of him to think so, his parents said. But since the people he spoke of were not too innocent themselves, they added, perhaps he could make his point, even in the media, they said.

I Wonder if There'll Ever Be Children's Movies that Aren't too Unrealistic!

Jess had with a few colleagues made a cartoon that was sort of about itself. More precisely it was about some dinosaurs who became skeptical when shown a cartoon about dinosaurs. In it, the dinosaurs roared about that those writers of such cartoons didn't care about “actual facts about us, about our lifes, about our hardships!”

The children whom the cartoon was being tested on were laughing enough for Jess and the others to begin to feel they could fairly easily consider it done. Thereby they were perhaps going to have it be released as a merchandise for those who saw their competitor's dinosaur cartoons as really funny. Giggling at this, they began to create a marketing strategy.

Meanwhile the children finished watching it, and began leaving the little room that had been made into a children's cinema for the purpose. They didn't mind, especially since they found them to till be rather amused by it as they were leaving. One of the kids, named Esmeralda, tried to ask one of Jess' colleagues why the dinosaurs didn't treat the man who had made the cartoon in the cartoon better. “Because,” she explained, “he seemed after all to have seen them as his friends when he asked them to watch it.” Esmeralda's half-brother and a friend of his stood by and seemed interested in what the answer would be.

One man, named Fred, said that “The cartoonists don't feel like caring to portray reality as it is, and that's why they're angry!”

“Exactly!” a female coworker, Anna, said. “Thereby they made the dinosaurs feel embarrassed, so that they couldn't feel happy about what they saw! On the other hand, they could have shown them another version of their story, one where they didn't seem ridiculously happy and smiling all the time! Then, perhaps, those small dinosaurs that he showed it to could have more easily felt satisfied with themselves, despite being portrayed like that in the first place!”

Esmeralda thereby wondered why the satisfied dinosaurs wouldn't be there and fake that they were happy about it, so that those who produced such a film “wouldn't,” as she said it, “be able to tell wether or not it they were cool about it?”

Anna smiled at her and said: “Esmeralda! It's not our problem that those weird creatures might be trying to fake something like that! Instead it's they who should be grateful to us that we at least portray them fairly well and lifelike!”

Esmeralda looked a bit dissatisfied, but still promised to “try to think of it like that!” She looked at her half-brother and said: “Simon, let's go! I bet they don't think my father, who is a producer of such films is a fairly, even, popular fellow with all those dinosaurs!”

Simon looked at her as she spoke and then glanced at his friend. “I bet their' too obnoxious to figure out that they are not the only ones who can become popular with the public! ... So how about you, Steven?” he looked at his friend again.

“How about me what?!”

“I mean do you feel that we should go now, or tend to stay around just for a little answer to why they feel our parents' production is not realistic enough?”

“No, I think we can go now! ... Or actually, perhaps we should ask why they feel they aren't stuck up about it.”

Jess broke in and said: “Look kids! We're not into seriously threatening their business or reputation, if that's what you think! We're simply kidding around a little!”

“Alright,” the kids said. “But how come,” Simon's friend asked, “do they seem to be the one's who needs to be kidded with, when they don't even seem as unsuccessful as you guys?!”

“That's exactly why we feel like provoking them about it! Don't you see? The company of her father and other acquaintances of both you and her, I suppose, won't be harmed, at least to the extent they realize that we also have a capacity to perhaps join them, and become their coworkers!”

“Then why,” Esmeralda asked, “do you feel like taunting them about the dinosaurs that they rely on for their business?”

“I think we need to provoke them about the kinds of things that seem a bit important, so that they'll realize we don't feel ignorant of what they're dealing with!”

“I guess,” Steven proclaimed, “that they don't feel like bothering with those who don't annoy them enough to perhaps be proclaimed their enemies, then!”

Esmeralda looked at him. She seemed a bit puzzled, and troubled. “I think we can work out something to stop them all from feuding! But I feel there's not any point in not feuding with those people unless they hint to us - I mean my father and so - something about how they want be into cooperating with them - I mean like us!”

Jess looked at her. “I feel that they don't have to know yet what we prefer! But there's not any point, I think, in pretending they're all that interesting as partners! But, I want them to know that if they make an offer, then we will take it seriously!”

“I feel,” Esmeralda answered, “that there's no business in feeling that we aren't the superior ones, since we have a business in the first place! Thereby I will say that even though they have the capacity, they (that is you) will not try to aspire for us to see why they're provoking us! I will say that it's me interrogating them (that is you) that provided the opportunity for us - I mean my father and his friends - to have a good notion of why they are being ridiculed!”

“I guess,” Jess said thoughtfully, “that a cunning kid such as the one I'm talking to will not be so silly that she fakes that we didn't invite her here - partly in order to see to it that she got her chance to form an opinion about it! I suppose also that you other two, you two boys, will find it that she - and you two as well - have gotten a chance to speak to us about it. So how come they should have to think we're into being their enemies?”

“I feel,” Steven replied, “that there isn't any enterprise in letting her make her judgements by herself!” eh pointed at Esmeralda while finishing that statement. “Thereby I feel that Esmeralda's father, and his cousin, my uncle, shouldn't be told that you've been fair enough unless you say to me and her and Simon what they will be about, those styles that you can perhaps introduce to us! I mean it's not enough that we who are kids see that example of it! I say it would be enough to tell them you're onto something! But we can't be telling our relatives that they should trust those people who are likely to become their competitors - even though they invited us to see one small example - or isn't it? - of what they can do!”