Skip to main content

Posts

TJ Anderson v. A Monster

            As the jury read the verdict, you could feel the divide. Half the room with their jaws dropped,  sighing whimpers of relief while happy tears fog their vision. The other half… either getting up and  walking out pissed off or staying in their seats trying their hardest to repress their anger, bottling up their  fists as you can see the veins bulging from their neck and forehead. What was the verdict? First, we're  gonna need the backstory. All the info from the trial of TJ Anderson v. A Monster. May 13th, 1984. Started out like any other day - wake up, play my vinyl while brushing my teeth, get my coffee from the lil corner shop around the block then hop on the subway. Earphones plugged in, coffee in hand, suit all ironed. As the smell of rat piss and body odor fuck up my senses, I take a deep breath in… ahhh New York.  “Next stop, Wall Street/William Street.” The monotone voice that takes over the bus says as I let ...
Recent posts

Ruthless Now (Teaser)

    Ruthless Now Trailer -    “Now moving over to the Southside, Maleek Wright, in Terror Town, has finished his trial and has been  sentenced to 30 years for the murder of the man who was responsible for a great deal of the drug problem  in chicago. Sentenced with a possibility of parole in 2027, reports say he was with his wife and son when  authorities knocked down his doors and took him away.” “Malcolm!” Once upon a time, around the southside a young black man grew up in a house.

Infernal Paradisio

    Imagine the home of Satan, but like if Satan had some type of dope superpower, like a Super- Satan, you know? Where he just has all kinds of wacked up heroes locked up in his crib. Sure…... rent-free, but pain-ful. It’s no surprise that Satan's home would be a looney bin. No pun intended but... this shit? It's hell if hell is an underground dungeon bound by black titanium and carpeted by checkered tile rusting at the seams. As I am shoved by two “men in black” looking guys, both tall as hell, fat as can be, and balder than a Chinese crested dog, I stumble into deafening silence. As the Proto-Adamantium doors shut behind me, I can hear the screams, the shivers, and the pain coming down each of the eight hallways that were conjoined where I was standing. Then all of the sudden, I turned my head to the left to see a urine-soaked straightjacket, some cream-colored cloth pants with shit stains on the ass, and a pair of red socks that looked like they had just been through ...