Thursday, August 27, 2015

Rico Sanchez: Punting the Sweet Fantastic
                I walk up to Carl and ask for drugs. He says no. I say yes. I pull a knife on that bean bag and neck swoop his cripple legs out from under him. I put the knife to his neck, just close enough to make his spots bleed. His eyes are bulging, he is afraid, but I don’t stop. I need those drugs Carl. Carl died. I still need drugs though. My name is Rico Sanchez and I am a giraffe. This is my story.
                I wasn’t always like this though. I come from glorious giraffe beginnings. I was born and raised a safari man. From an early age I sought out the answers to life. I considered myself a student of Socrates, a book being written by the passages of time and read by the all-knowing lizard people. Nothing is meant to live forever though. After my stent as a philosopher I decided to become a cop. I joined the force. I thought it was my way out, my saving grace. Mom and Pop were proud. I’d never felt such joy in my giraffe legs before this moment. After I joined the force I was partnered with Owl Pichino. He was a real owl, always sticking to the books and busting my marbles, but dang was he a HOOT. After a night of patrol, me and Pichino head over to the bar, it was a real Boston joint, lots of jersey guys. After a few too many drinks Pichino opened up to me. He was in the war. I’m not sure, but during that conversation I could have sworn I saw a tear in his eye. I looked at him and he looked at me, after that it was an unspoken friendship, even though owls and giraffes are sworn enemies.
For once in my life I was happy, but just like everything I had to go and screw it up.  The first time I saw her I knew I had to have her. She was a real fox. Literally, but she was sworn to another man. Her name was Foxy Pichino. Forces inside me battled each other, my heart of hearts wanted to be loyal to Owl, but my second heart, or giraffe heart, lured me to Foxy. We had an affair. The guilt was unbearable, my prison was my shame. My love for Foxy consumed me and I went through some dark times. Peter Parker Spiderman 3 darkness does not compare. I tried to hang myself, but my neck was just too dang long. Eventually, I decided the only way out of this prison was to kill Owl, my partner, my friend, my brother.
One fateful night I finally couldn’t handle the guilt any longer. I planned to do it while we were on patrol in the south side. I was going to frame it to look like a thug raccoon killed Owl. I drove up to the spot and led him like a lamb to slaughter. I didn’t have the marbles to kill him to his face, so I closed my eyes and started swinging my neck. With a tear rolling down my neck I slapped Owl into oncoming traffic and he died. I guess that why they called him the night owl.
 Ironically, as I got out of one prison I entered another. They booked me, two life sentences back to back. Luckily, no one in the judicial system knew how to jail a giraffe. I was out in three years, but during my time in the slammer I learned valuable skills. This is when my life took a turn for the worse.


End of Girafft One

8 comments:

  1. Greetings, Ben,
    Your story was a drastic deviation from the serious, the emotional, and the meaningful. Instead of seeking some hidden moral and centering a short-lived plot around it, you cut your own path and crafted a story of pure comedy. It was an enjoyable read, and altogether a very unique experience. Continue to write about random, criminally inclined animals, because different is never a bad thing (that can be argued but that's beside the point).
    Besides, I don't think owls and foxes belong together, right?
    Have a lovely night,
    Zachary

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  2. Hey there Ben!

    Well... This was, very creative. Now I can tell what the three of you were all giggly about yesterday! This story does show how drugs can devastate a life, even a giraffe's. It was a continued comic relief throughout the story every time I remembered it was a giraffe who's story it was.

    Thank you,
    Emma Hayford

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  3. Hi Ben!
    That was magical. I loved it so much! You're so funny. It seems like almost anyone can write something dark and depressing, it takes talent to be funny. It was so awesome! I also felt like you tied it all together by being serious about how drugs can destroy. It has been my favorite thing I've read thus far.
    You're a boss,
    Taylor

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  4. R.I.P. Owl Pachino. He was the best of us.

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  5. Broseph,
    My man. Im digging the title! Owl Pachino would be proud.

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  6. Everything from the title to the last line... I'm speechless.
    "Peter Parker Spiderman 3 darkness does not compare" Great quote

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  7. Looks like your audience really loved this, Ben! I did, too. Such an entertaining and creative take...and the fact that you found the most perfect image to portray your character really amuses me. You've crafted a voice for your cynical and tortured giraffe and I love the line: "He was a real owl, always sticking to the books and busting my marbles, but dang was he a HOOT." From your cliffhanger ending, I take it you plan to tell more of this poor guy's story. Can't wait!

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