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Sometimes Goliath Has A Point; A burned handler and a toy who doesn't fly. Semi-Private.
Topic Started: May 18 2013, 08:24 PM (444 Views)
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Hansel Williams, Start))

One of the few things that Hansel could grudgingly give in terms of respect to the city he was forced to inhabit, in spite of the long list of flaws and faults that he could - and did - spout off at any moment, was that the abundance of concrete, brick and glass made you appreciate any green where you can find it. It was the main reason that he and a few friends were strolling through the park that day, each holding soda cans of varying flavours, Hansel’s stetson firmly atop his head to keep the sun off of his eyes.

It was a summer day, one of those days that you rushed outside to play at the nearest opportunity, not wanting to waste any time before ominous clouds rolled in and blotted out the gorgeous sun. Joggers passed the trio both ways as they walked, sneakers thudding on blacktop, sharp little exhalations and inhalations of breath. Hansel tipped back his cream soda as the other two boys sighed dramatically at a passing woman in short shorts, nudging each other.

“Oh maaan,” Adam sang, turning as she ran past. “Man, oh man, oh man.”

Hansel’s upper lip jumped in irritation, but he clamped down on it.

“You know who she reminds me of?” the towheaded teenager continued, turning back to his two comrades eagerly. “That girl that goes to your school, Hansel. Katherine Ryan.”

“Isn’t she like, waaay taken?” observed Michael, pushing his glasses back up his nose, “Taken by a guy who’s bigger than the three of us combined?”

Hansel shrugged. “I think so,” he said, “Viktor or something f-foreign. He won state for wrestling a while back, is a few years older than us.”

“Pshaw!” Adam remarked, “I bet I could take him.”

“If you had a gun, sure,” Michael replied, voice dry, “and even then, if he didn’t see you first.”

Hansel rolled his eyes. “I f-feel b-had for him. She’s not exactly virtuous.”

The three stopped by a big oak almost by unanimous decision, just off of the path where the joggers paced by at varying speeds. “What do you mean, Hansel?”

“Well,” Hansel replied, turning towards Adam, “you guys don’t go to Aurora. I’ve seen her around the athletic t-types.”

Adam laughed slightly, accompanying the sound with a minor shake of his head. "Your version of not virtuous and mine are pretty different, bro,"

Hansel slumped against the tree, raising and lifting a shoulder in a gesture that was supposed to come off as nonchalant, yet had the effect of a spoiled child refuting a parent's opinion. Saving his words for now, he looked out at the green of the park, conjured an image of Katherine Ryan in his mind, and scowled.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Breaking post order to close out this past thread, since it doesn't seem to be moving.))

"Well, whatever," Michael said, grinning at his two friends, "Who wants Ice Cream? Our own Texan here probably hasn't had a Seattle scoop."

"Oh, dude!" Adam piped up, "Hansel, man - you are going to wig out."

Hansel pushed off against the tree, shoved his fingers into his back pockets, and shrugged. "Wow me," he said, smiling slightly.

((Hansel Williams, exit.))
A list of the dying, a list of the damned.

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