The Perils of Too Much Coffee and Vinyl Seating

It was two in the morning when George decided to leave the empty coffee house and head for his girfriend’s house. His paper was finished and he needed her to proofread before he submitted the thing, you know how touchy editors can get about spelling and format. So he packed up his things into his notebook and got up to be on his way. That’s when he heard the kitchen door bang open without warning.

“Where are you going!” someone asked rhetorically, though somewhat high pitched and shaky.

George turned ’round to voice to see its owner. A tall skinny boy, about six foot two, stark naked and holding a large rat in his hand at knife point. His wide-eyed face beautifully made-up with black liner and lipstick against a pale based skin. Teeth, bright and white, in a gnarled grin as he spoke his next words ever so slow, “I found this one in the back and he tried to run, but I caught him. I caught him and I’ll catch you too, if you leave.”

Intrigued, George stepped the nearest table and took a seat at one of its two chairs, telling the boy he wasn’t going anywhere. There was no fear in his voice, only a slight strain to keep his amusement from being to apparent in his words. This dumbass was going to make for a great article, he thought as the boy made his way towards him, keeping his long tailed prisoner ahead of him at arms length. Weary of George like the priest approaching the vampire with an all powerful, if not stinky, symbol of god. If only there was a camera.”

“What do you want?” he asked as he kicked aside the other chair just enough for him to sit. Making a slightly rude noise as the air between his bottom cheeks pressed out from between his bare skin and the chair’s vinyl upholstery. George held in his laughter, telling him that he just finished his coffee and wanted to leave and reminded the boy that it was he who had told him to stay.

“Who are you then?” the boy asked, putting down the furry body he held onto the table. There was no blood, but George saw now that it was already dead, probably for a few days now by the smell. He told him his name and that he meant no harm, he came in peace. After a short pause, the boy sat back to tell him, “I believe you.”

“What do you want from me?” George asked.

“I want your help,” he said. George asked with what and he answered, “I’m unhappy with our new President Dubb-Ya.”

Of course, George made the mistake of asking the boy to explain and he did. At great lengths, mostly repetition from other people, news shows, paper bites, and high school class discussions. It was all unfair, undemocratic to the core. How could we stand for it, corporations were taking over the world and soon we will be all be speaking german. A travesty to the people and in a word, irritating. He slammed his fist next to the rat at the end to give his speech strength, “I’ve decided to make and underground movement right here and make my way to the Oval office and I intend to tak it back for the people and I’m going to tell you how.

Right here? George wondered and calmly told the boy about the coffee house doors still being open for business. If its going to be a secret, wasn’t he afraid someone was going to hear before it was time if they walked in. The boy simply reply, “It’s two in the morning, noboday comes in here at this time except drunks and those badly dressed vampire freaks. In their black clothes and slutty girlfriends to drink their coffee and talk about meanings of life and death. Making fun of me,” he said before calling out loudly towards the door, “Freaks!” Once again, bringing down his fist. This time smashing the tip of the rat’s tail, though he didn’t seem to noticed. He just kept a hardened expression and unwavering glare back at George. The eyeliner making the boy’s ocular globes look the size of billiard balls. It was now, that George wondered if this boy blink at all during all this. He didn’t think so.

“You drank alot of coffee back there didn’t you,” George surmised from the clues at hand.

“Yeah, I had to try all the flavors for this new job,” then added, “We have over twenty different blends, not including specialty drinks.”



“Okay, well bottomline is that I just couldn’t care less about this cause,” George said, explaining how he made enough money to not care anymore. And the he was starting to get irritated with him. This wasn’t very funny anymore. This politic killed whatever humor he had here and that he was going to leave. In response, the boy grabbed the sides of the table and shook it violently, saying no one was going anywhere when George said, “Watch me.”

In more improv than anything foresight, George snatched the rat’s body as he got up and ran for the door. Frail build or not, this boy was a little off and that made for a bad opponent, so George bailed while he could with a hostage. Just in case and oh how the naked boy screamed in horror to this action, springing to his feet. The chair lifted against his stuck flesh as gravity tore it down in turn. Causing him to stumble into the open doorway and fall with his hands on his ass.

George was already halfway down the block when he looked back. He could hear the boy screaming, “No, no, no!” But not moving from the ground as the coffee house door swung back closing upon him and injuring his head. “Here’s you’re little friend,” George shouted and tossed the rat into the streets as he walked away with a hop in his steps. Hearing the bones of the dead creatures crunch under the tire of a car speeding by a minute later.

This was going to make for an interesting article indeed, he thought as the boy continued, now a half mile away.




This is the first draft and only draft cause I was bored, thanks.

By bloodsober

In the land of Da Moosh, only the faithful will survive, beware of her bite.


  1. honestly? very little plot, poorly developed characters, inconsistant verb tenses, sentence fragments, and a stereotypical setting. who is the boy and why is he naked and wearing eyeliner? most males who wear eyeliner don’t seem to have much of an interest in the rat population of a coffee house. it’s bizarre but not in a likeable way. i’m sorry to bash you so badly- i admire your imagination and creativity, but this wasn’t my cup of tea.

  2. Thanks for the comment, first of all, and allow me to reassure you that your “bashing” -as it were- was one of the less severe variety. I’ve recieved ones much worse for pieces I actually thought were good.

    To get to the point, however, I’m not in the business of defending my words, especially this 15 min job. I just wanted to answer the questions posed by you. The first about the boy’s nakedness and eyeliner is simple: he just is, no reasons or background justify the appearance what-so-ever. Just like when someone walks into a room in clothing far too loud for the occassion at hand. No statement was being said by the attire, this person simply wasn’t aware of that fact. As far as the rat thing, maybe you could read into symbolism as the boy trying to rid the world of what he considers evil. But, honestly, I’ve seen enough dirty kitchens and backrooms of various establishments to know rodents are a fact of their existence in business. So I threw the little hairy thing in. The poorly developed characters and little plot was a matter of me just tapping the keys and seeing what comes out, a snapshot if you will of a scenario I was thinking about at the time.

    It’s not a good story by any means, I’ll admit, but hey maybe it’s just ahead of it’s time. Wink Wink and a Laugh.

    I guess the only thing left is the inconsistent verb tenses and sentence fragments, and to that I can only tell you that that is my writing “voice.” I’ve always written this way in published and non-published works and will continue to do so. Though you do echo many editors who find my stuff frustrating. Anyways, thanks again for the comment. “Bloodsober”

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