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 Post subject: Tawny's Problem
PostPosted: Sun Oct 31, 2010 7:04 pm 
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Just a little vignette for your enjoyment... This concerns the coke fiend rape-murderer mountain lion that Uthy has identified as her next target, with or without Sam's help.


TAWNY'S PROBLEM

Tawny’s paws were shaking again. Broken claws scrabbled over the payphone’s worn number pad, trying to get the right area code. He almost punched in ‘516’ instead of ‘519’. 516 would have taken him back to a world he was no longer welcome in: The same world where that treacherous weekasah he’d once considered a friend lived.
That same weekasah, who’d betrayed him, and who was one of the reasons why everything had started to unravel. Friends? Fuck friends! Tawny knew that he’d never had any. Not really. Only parasites, who just stuck around for the booze and the blow. The moment he needed any sort of help or favours in return, they were gone so fast they left a smoke trail behind them. The only thing he still had left was family.
He somehow managed to finish punching in the number that he barely remembered, and listened to the old-fashioned, double ring of a party line. Apparently the rez was still stuck with the same primitive phone service it had when Tawny had left.

It was well past the second hour after midnight when the silence of Dusty Two-Trees’ house was broken by loud, insistent ringing.
The fourth ring was followed by an oath in a voice that was equal parts low snarl and groan.
“Wha’ da Christfuck?!?”
Still half-asleep, he padded over to the phone, and picked up the receiver.
“Who da Christfuck is dis?!? You woke me up, so dis bedder be good, eh.”
“Dusty?” A far-off, tinny voice said.
“Yeah. Who da fuck is dis?”
“Dusty, it’s Tawny.”
“Donny?” Dusty replied, making Tawny remember how his brother had never been able to properly pronounce his name. He’d always said it as ‘Donny’.
“Yes, Dusty, it’s Tawny.”
“What da Christfuck you wan’? It’s doo in the fuckin’ mornin’ eh!”
“Dusty, I’m in trouble.”
“Fer gawd’s sake, Donny. Whassit dis dime, eh? Y’er fuckin’ coke dealer gonna kill ya ‘gain?”
“No, Dusty, you don’t understand!” Tawny protested, “I’m in real trouble!”
“Good Gawd! Wha’ da fuck is it dis dime? I bet it’s still sumpin’ da do with dat fuckin’ poison snow ya pud up y’er snout! I heard all ‘bout y’er fuckin’ busts, eh.”
“Dammit, Dusty, this is a payphone!” Tawny snarled, “I don’t have enough quarters to keep this goin’ forever. Everyone else’s out to get me, Dusty, you’re all I got left!”
“Christfuck, Donny! I ain’t inneresded in y’er games anymore! I c’n dell y’er fucked-up right now! Already dol’ ya, don’ come home dil y’er cleaned up, eh!
Tawny’s voice raised to a high-pitched snarl.
“Dammit, Dusty, I don’t need a lecture! I don’t need you judging me. Not now! You’re no better anyway, Dusty! I remember you sneakin’ beers behind the rec hall. I remember you doin’ snoutie; and half the fuckers you chummed around with on the rez were sniffin’ gas and drinkin’ Lysol! I told you Dusty; I’m in trouble. I need your help, brother! Don’t you fuckin’ judge me! Not now.”
From the other end of the line, there was silence.
“Dusty, you there?”
Tawny’s free paw was scratching the side of his head again. The fur had been rubbed away there, and he’d lost his eyebrow and cheek-whiskers on that side. Tawny didn’t notice that any more than he noticed that there was blood trickling down onto his paw from the sores that never had a chance to heal. He didn’t scent the blood either. The coke had taken that ability away from him long ago. Everything smelled more or less like blood to Tawny these days.
Finally, Dusty spoke again.
“Donny, maybe y’er nod lyin’ do me dis time, bud I jus’ can’t drust ya,” he sighed, “not wi’ a mate an’ kiddens in da house. I don’ wanna haffta ‘splain dere fucked-up Uncle. Dere doo young do deal widdat, eh. Hard ‘nough as it is wi’ all da shit here on da rez, I don’ need sum coke-fiend flippin’ out ‘roun dem. I’m sorry, brudder.”
“But Dusty! Please!”
“Sorry, brudder.”
“PLEASE, Dusty!”

*click*.

_________________
"Popular lies have ever been the most potent enemies of personal liberty. There is only one way to deal with them. Cut them out, to the very core, just as cancers are..." - Ragnar Redbeard, "Might is Right" (1890).


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 Post subject: Re: Tawny's Problem
PostPosted: Fri Nov 05, 2010 5:43 am 
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Posts: 424
I quite imagine something like that happened. It'll make more sense to everyone else once I get to the Tawny storyline though.

I think you've captured the essence.


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 Post subject: Re: Tawny's Problem
PostPosted: Fri Nov 05, 2010 11:18 am 
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Joined: Wed Aug 18, 2010 1:34 pm
Posts: 57
I'm glad you like it. I would like to eventually do some more on Tawny, but, as you said, it's going to have to wait until his story really gets going. This piece was a bunch of speculative guesswork based on the couple of lines that have already appeared in the strip. Beyond that, it's completely a product of my own fevered imagination. :P

_________________
"Popular lies have ever been the most potent enemies of personal liberty. There is only one way to deal with them. Cut them out, to the very core, just as cancers are..." - Ragnar Redbeard, "Might is Right" (1890).


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