Redemption Road (8) (675 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.05 on 31 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2008-05-07 18:19:39 EDT
Redemption Road (1) http://www.ubersite.com/m/79291
Redemption Road (2) http://www.ubersite.com/m/81591
Redemption Road (3) http://www.ubersite.com/m/81716
Redemption Road (4) http://www.ubersite.com/m/82332
Redemption Road (5) http://www.ubersite.com/m/85951
Redemption Road (6) http://www.ubersite.com/m/87886
Redemption Road (7) http://www.ubersite.com/m/89773
8 - The Trial of Mud (II)
Julianne was walking beside the bus.
All of them were walking beside the bus, their shoes caked with mud. It had been decided that the bus remain empty except for Tim behind the wheel, to cut the weight of the vehicle as much as possible. The bus had only moved about a hundred yards so far, a little over a quarter of the distance they had to cover, and the wheels were already deep in the mud.
Whippet was walking beside her.
"You ever meet someone who looked like they was about to sneeze, or had bad gas, or the best, someone who looks like they are about vomit, you know, cheeks full, lips pursed... and then you realize that's their normal face? How can they go through life looking like that?"
Silence.
Whippet frowned, and gave it another shot.
"I had an uncle we used to call Diamond Toes. He had the god-damnedest toenails you ever saw, these big horny yellow things that sliced through his socks and chewed their way through shoe leather. My aunt was always trying to get him to file them down or clip them, and he would always put it off cause those little drug store nail clippers would actually break on his toenails. I once saw him trimming his toenails with tin snips, and the whole family was convinced he could cut glass with them things."
Julianne forced herself to look up at the sky. If she looked down, she would see her shoes, and the filth clinging to them. She told herself her growing revulsion and fear was ridiculous. It was only a little harmless dirt. Yet she could also imagine that dirt working its way into her shoes, getting into her socks, touching her skin.
"You okay, darlin'?"
Whippet had seen the nurse looking down at her muddy shoes with dismay. Maybe she had a screw loose, maybe not. Everyone had a weakness. She'd been so strong up to this point, and now all it took was a little mud and she was coming unglued?
He was doing his best to keep up the small talk, but it didn't seem to be distracting her.
Julianne tried to smile.
"Tell you what," Whippet said. "When we get on the other side, you just kick back and I'll get that old reliable water cooler and give your tootsies a nice, slow wash with my own two hands."
"Cullum, unless you want that beat up old cowboy hat stuffed up—"
Whippet held up a hand. "Hey. Nothing sexual, just a foot wash. Water may only be a trickle, but we all know it's clean."
In a lower voice, almost a whisper, he said, "I promise. On my momma's memory."
"We'll see," she said. And then, "Your mother passed away?"
A change came over Whippet's face, a softening of his features, a sadness in his eyes. It was there and gone in a moment.
"Yes ma'am."
"What happened?"
"She died cause of me," Whippet said, in his cocky, fuck-you voice. "I was just getting some recognition, put out my first CD. I was doin' a show down in Tallahassee. Figured I'd show her a good time."
Julianne breathed deeply as a cool gust of air lifted her hair, the breeze momentarily clearing away that horrible wet rotting smell coming from the mud, a smell that seemed to get worse the further she went across the washout. She tried again to ignore the smell, the dirt, the feeling that small organisms dredged out of the mud by her feet were writhing on her skin, little things the size of en eyelash. They weren't her imagination, though. No. They were on her. She could feel them.
"I chartered a plane to fly her down," Whippet said. His voice was low, and he was speaking in a tone Julianne had never heard from him; reverence. "Just her. She had herself a valet and champagne and leather seats. All that for a woman who used to patch up my blue jeans late at night after spending her day cleaning toilets in an office building in Farragut and a few hours every evening serving coffee and chicken fried steak at a greasy spoon down the road from home."
Julianne wanted to reach out and touch Whippet's face, to dispel the hardness and the anger she saw there. She had forgotten all about her muddy feet.
"The plane went down," Whippet said, tugging on the brim of his hat, hiding his eyes. "The plane dropped down out of a beautiful blue sky, momma likely screaming all the way. It hit a stand of trees and broke up and then everything started burning. I might as well have doused her with lighter fluid and lit her up with my Zippo."
"Cullum..."
"When I got back her remains for buryin' I had to sign some papers and one of 'em was a shipping invoice. What was left of her weighed thirty-three pounds, including the box. Thirty-three fuckin' pounds."
Julianne didn't know what to say.
"After that I hit the skids. I may have flushed my dignity down the toilet along with my career, but hear me on this, Ms. Barrowman. If I promise on my momma's name that I will act like a gentleman, then you better believe it to be true."
Julianne stopped walking and held out her hand.
"Offer accepted, sir."
Whippet took her hand.
"You know, I'm only tryin' to..."
"Cullum?"
Whippet was frowning, looking down at their clasped hands.
Julianne felt the slightest little tap on her skin, and felt moisture. She realized what Whippet was looking at, and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.
"Almighty Jesus," Whippet said. "The rain is back."
Whippet let go of Julianne's hand and ran ahead.
She looked up and saw clouds moving in to obscure the sun.
*
On the other side of the bus Richard Allen was walking with Robbie.
"Isn't this fun?" He sank a shoe into thick mud and pulled it out with a disgusting squootch!
Robbie laughed and clapped her hands. "You're silly! Grown-ups aren't supposed to do that!" One foot slipped on a slick stone, and she nearly went down on her knees.
"Whoopsy," Allen said, grabbing her and lifting up, "Careful, baby. I've got you now."
*
David Garvin was walking behind Robbie and Dick Allen. He frowned when he saw the man pick up the little girl and hold her tight.
Rebel was trotting alongside, doing just fine with three legs. The dog made an almost-growl, a soft rumble deep in its throat.
"Fuck off," Garvin said, flicking some mud from his shoes at the dog. The mutt tripoded away.
After a moment he thought that maybe the dog had a point. He opened his mouth. But before he could speak Allen had set the girl down on her feet.
*
The bus had been moving at a crawl for twenty minutes or so. They were now nearly halfway across the washout.
Addison was walking ahead of the bus, hoping to guide Tim around any spots that looked suspiciously soft enough to slow their progress. Some of the puddles of brown water weren't very wide, but he suspected they were as deep as something out of an old Warner Brothers cartoon.
He was remembering a time when he was a little kid, ten years old or so, in the Midwest town where he'd grown up. The town he'd blown out of when he turned eighteen.
Farms and flats. That was home when he was small. The heartland, endless flat plains that were bitterly cold in winter and green with corn from late spring to September or October. A ten minute walk to the closest neighbor. A half hour ride on the school bus along rural roads. In a place like that, a boy without a bicycle might as well be in a wheelchair.
He had been screwing around in the yard behind a nearby farmhouse on a Sunday morning after seeing the family pile into a station wagon and drive off. He had been walking between a barn and a silo, and then the ground was no longer holding him up and he was dropping down, yelling in shock and then choking as he got a mouthful what had to be shit, judging from the smell. He went under, felt his feet touch solid ground, and pushed up, hauling a skinny body now heavy with clinging shit up and out of a manure pit that was only a few feet across.
Addison the boy had been covered from heat to toe with cowshit and half-digested straw. The stench was incredible. He had spit and spit, but the taste remained. He had run home through the fields, hiding in the corn. If any of his friends had seen him he would have died right there.
He had been sneaking across the backyard of his own home when his mom let out a shriek. She'd been pinning clean sheets on the clothesline, and stood with one hand one her chest, her fingertips trembling at her throat.
Later that night Addison would overhear her telling his dad that she thought it was a Bigfoot child or some other kind of monster. Addison's dad had laughed his high yih-hih-hih laugh, and Addison's mom had gotten a bit frosty with him. She never told him what else she saw that day, and Addison had always respected her for that, long before he understood the concept of respect.
When she saw her own son's eyes peering out from a mask of cowshit his mother let out another scream, this one a bit breathless. She made him strip where he stood after getting the backyard hose and washing down each item of clothing as it came off. It was a warm August morning, but the water from the hose came from a well on their small acreage, and it was chilled to a breath-stopping crispness.
He stopped when he got down to his underwear, shivering even as the sun warmed the top of his head. He still had little clots of cowshit on his skin and in his hair. Brown runnels meandered down the course of his body.
"You're not done yet, mister," his mom had said, the hose spattering into the grass under her sneakers.
Addison had protested and begged to go into the house, but his mom was immune to anything he said.
"The longer you stall, the better the chance one of your friends comes along and sees you like this. What then?"
Addison had looked around to make sure the coast was clear, and then turned away from his mom and skinned down his drawers.
"Arms in the air," his mom had said from behind him, putting her thumb over the end of the hose again and blasting his underwear across the back lawn. He watched it leap away from him in horror.
The water had been cold enough to shrink his scrotum down to a tight pink stone, but after a few seconds his hair and skin were finally beginning to feel clean, the strong spray now raising the hair on the back of his head into spikes and bending his ears. He was facing rows and rows of corn under a blue sky. His back was cold but his front was warming in the sun, and he suddenly got his first truly fierce erection. His first memorable one, anyway.
He had looked down, observed that pink horn jutting out from his body, and then slapped it with one hand. It waggled. It also felt like steel. He thought he could probably stab someone with it and then realized that if what his friends said was true about sex stuff, stabbing someone was exactly what this pulsing new part of him was—"
"Turn around," his mom had said.
Addison's heart nearly stopped. He was sure of that. He came very close to rolling over dead with a boner in his own backyard. Kids at his school would have talked about that for years and years, no doubt.
"Come on, I don't have all day. My thumb is getting cold."
Addison remembered looking over his shoulder at his mom and thinking your thumb? as his body shivered and his erection bounced up and down like it was having the greatest time ever.
"Hurr-reee! His mom said.
Addison turned around, his hands cupped over his nearly nonexistent balls, his hard-on tucked behind one wrist.
"Arms in the air. Let's go. One more quick rinse and you can scoot inside and dry off."
Addison remembered feeling that he was going to throw up on himself at that point, it was going to happen, but at least he'd get washed off real quick. He also remembered wondering how his damn dick could still be hard, considering this was one of the worst days any kid had ever had to live through.
"For God's sake," his mom said, sounding exasperated. "You aren't too old for me to walk over there and smack your bottom, mister, so—"
Galvanized by a mixture of revulsion and shame at the thought of his mom coming closer and wishing that a jumbo jet would fall out of the sky and crush him dead or that the sun would explode and incinerate the Earth, Addison raised his arms and shouted, "I've got a boner! I'm sorry!"
His mom had almost dropped the hose, fumbling with it and soaking her shoes as her face went pale and then very pink. She quickly rinsed her son's face and armpits, guiding the spray up and down in his general direction, looking up and away at the gutter on one edge of the roof, only taking the briefest of glances to keep the hose on track.
It had felt good, though. Addison remembered that, too. It had felt damn good. He felt no shame recalling it now. He'd felt enough shame at the moment. Now all he remembered was how good it felt. That had been the only purely innocent sexual moment of his entire life, and although he had put a lot of biographical detail into the last few novels he'd written, he had never told anyone about that incident since most people would see it as perverse. He had never been able to capture in on the page, either, although he'd tried again and again.
He also remembered two simultaneous thoughts blasting through his head as the icy spray made his erection bounce and sway, words he actually saw in his mind, like big black iron letters shot from a cannon right through the meat of his brain; YAAAAAAA God is watching HAAAAAAA and tonight while I'm asleep he'll eat my soul HAAAAAAA and then crap it out and right down into hell HAAAAAAA!!!
The spray from the hose stopped far too soon, and as Addison had wiped water from his eyes he had watched his mom dash inside the house, skipping up the stairs and slipping through the door as nimbly as a kid, and for the first time he really understood she had been a little girl once. That revelation had as awe-inspiring as the body-rocking throb of his deflating penis.
He looked down at his dwindling dick, hoped he could get it back some day, and then ran inside the house. He passed his mom, who was standing in the pantry with her back to him and shifting cans of Heinz beans and Campbell's soup from one shelf to another, and zipped up the stairs to his room.
Addison shook his head. Christ, he thought, the stuff the mind coughs up. It's a wonder I don't have a truckload of fetishes and psychoses.
He chuckled and side-stepped a puddle that was probably as deep as that long-ago manure-pit, and then saw a single ring spreading out from the center of the puddle, the ripple of a single raindrop.
Oh my, he thought.
Behind him, Whippet was shouting.
"Everybody get ready to push, cause we got rain comin' and we're treadin' across a washout!"
*
Within minutes heavy rain was hammering the roof of the school bus. Addison and Whippet made Robbie and Rebel get on the bus, the dog barking with excitement and the little girl complaining that if the grown-ups got to play in the mud she should be able to as well.
"Floor it, kid!" Whippet shouted through the open door of the bus. "Make some headway before the ground gets too soft!"
Tim leaned on the accelerator and the bus rolled forward, lurching upward as it passed over rocks and dipping as it splashed through puddles.
Those on foot followed as quickly as they could. The mud was getting softer and deeper, and there were already a few muddy rills they had to leap over or splash through. Those slender rills of water would soon gather and make streams, and the streams would grow and merge and make a river once more. They had to hurry.
Thunder boomed overhead and Julianne screamed as churning clouds darkened the sky.
Within five hundred feet of the rock fall on the far side of the washout, the rear end of the bus swayed to one side and dropped down into the mud.
"Jesus," Whippet said, shaking water out of his hair. "I can't even see the rear wheels." He sank his hands into the mud and got a grip on the rear bumper. "This is fuckin' nasty."
Whippet and Addison got every adult lined up on either side of the bus near the back, and they all began to push.
On one side were Ben Sugarman and Dick Allen. On the other were Julianne and Betty Takana. Each pair was pushing on the window frames ahead of the rear wheels of the bus.
The men with the most muscle were Whippet, Addison, and Garvin. They were bent low enough to taste the mud and pushing the rear bumper. They could hear the rear wheels spinning in the mud even if they couldn't see them.
The rear windows were so low Julianne could look right through the interior of the bus and see Dick Allen. Richard Allen Luft, she told herself, seeing his exertion-reddened face framed by one window.
And like that, Julianne knew where she had seen Richard Allen Luft before.
*
Dick Allen saw Julianne looking at him. He saw her eyes widen. He'd seen that look before. Yes indeed. The wonder that morphed into shock. The shock that became revulsion. She'd talk. He knew she would. She was close with the cowboy in the pink coveralls. No telling what an inbred redneck like that would do, but it would probably involve cutting Allen's balls off. They had a fixation with the idea of castration for his kind in places where the Bible and the Confederate flag were on prominent display.
Allen slapped Ben Sugarman on the shoulder. "I'm gonna swap sides with one of the women! Even things out!"
*
Ben gave a quick nod. He was too terrified to speak and giving it everything he had. He'd seen this washout roiling with snakes once before and he didn't want to be here when they came back.
In a moment he saw Allen say something to Betty on the far side of the bus. Betty dropped out of sight, and then he heard her slogging through the mud behind him.
Ben didn't care who did what. Someone had to keep a lookout for snakes. That was his job.
*
Tim looked in the rearview mirror and saw Roberta standing in the aisle halfway down the length of the bus. "Robbie, get up here and sit beside me. It isn't safe back there."
"There's mud coming in one of the windows," she said, sounding afraid.
"Robbie!" Tim gave it a little thought. "Poor Rebel is scared out of her wits. Why don't you try and keep her company?"
"Okay," Robbie said. She took a seat close to the front of the bus, sitting beside Rebel. Rebel cocked her ears and then climbed over Robbie and into the aisle.
The dog stood in the aisle, watching the people outside.
"Well that's just stupid," Robbie said, crossing her arms and frowning at Tim.
*
Julianne looked behind her. Ricahrd Allen Luft was there now, and Betty was on the other side of the bus behind Ben.
There was another rumbling overhead and the rain began falling harder.
"You know me," Allen said.
He wasn't really raising his voice, but it found its way into Julianne's ears like the rain and made her shudder.
"You were on TV," she said, looking back. "America's Most Wanted. 20/20. Some show like that."
"Ah, fame," Allen said.
"You're a pedophile. That's what they said."
"Too true," Allen said, nodding in agreement. I hanged myself in my closet at home. Then I was just... here. A fresh start, so to speak." He reached forward and gave Julianne a shove.
She was already pushing against the bus. She lost her balance and fell into the mud. She rolled onto her back and Richard Allen leaped on top of her.
*
Whippet shouted over the storm. "Push boys, push this motherfucker!"
The bus was beginning to rock up and down in the mud. With every upswing the spinning wheels threw mud in their faces.
"Christ almighty Whippet," Addison said, "My heart's gonna blow like a bald tire if we keep this shit up."
Garvin spoke in sharp snaps. "We need traction, you stupid hayseed ignoramus!"
*
"Get off of me!" Julianne had never been so utterly repulsed in all her life, having this man on top of her while sitting neck deep in stinking, crawling mud.
"Oh, don't worry," Richard Allen said. "I wouldn't dream of touching you in that way. While you are quite lovely by conventional standards, I'm afraid you are long past your expiration date. As you know, I like them young."
Julianne opened her mouth. She was going to ask what he was going to do to her when she saw the look in Allen's eyes, the commitment, and the coldness. She drew a breath. All she had to do was call Whippet's name. He'd take care of her, he'd save her, he was her very own diamond in the r—
Richard Allen grabbed her by the throat and leaned forward, submerging her in the mud.
Julianne closed her eyes and felt that thick, cold fluid fill her throat. It bubbled as her last breath was forced through it, and then she saw a burst of light.
Allen held the woman under the mud a moment longer, and then gave her body a shove to one side. Under the bus. Under the spinning wheels. He looked up, and saw the three-legged dog staring at him.
*
Whippet felt the bus bump over something, a stone, a log, whatever. He didn't care. He let out a cheer as the bus got a bit of traction and surged up out of the mud toward the rock fall.
The adults pushed their way through the mud as fast as they could. Inside the bus the kids were cheering and the dog was barking. Under all that was a sound so deep they could feel it in their bones.
Down the length of the washout they saw a white wall rushing toward them.
"Here it comes," Whippet cried, "Everybody out of the pool!"
As the bus drove up the rock fall onto the far side of the road, Whippet took a head count. He gave Dick Allen a hand up when the man stumbled on a loose stone.
"Where in the hell is Julianne?"
Everyone backed away from the washout. Loose stones at their feet danced as the river returned, the endless cycling explosion of raw sound that made the storm seem insignificant.
Whippet looked over the faces near him certain he'd just missed one. He looked inside the bus.
"Julianne!"
A solid wall of churning debris began moving by his feet.
"Has anyone seen Julianne?"
No one said a thing.
The debris was followed by a mudflow that gave way to raging waters.
"Lord God almighty, she's in there," Whippet said. He took a step forward.
Ben Sugarman reached out and grabbed Whippet by the arm. "Hang fire, son. You can't go down there."
"Gawdammit, let go of me," Whippet said, pulling away from Ben. "JULIANNE!"
Ben wouldn't let go, and Whippet dragged him right to the edge of the washout, spray from the river soaking them to the knees.
"I can't leave her down there," Whippet said. His chest was heaving and his voice was raw. "I can't leave her down there!"
Ben stepped between Whippet and the river and put a firm hand against the younger man's chest. He gave his head a slow shake, seemed about to say something, and then a snake as big around the middle of one of the wheels on the bus reared up out of the surging water and clamped a black mouth around one of Ben's legs.
Whippet reached for the man, but Ben was already fifty feet away, riding the river, wrapped in the coils of the snake. There was a spray of red that was quickly diluted by the river, and Whippet fell to his knees.
Addison stepped forward, put a hand on Whippet's shoulder, and eventually drew him into the bus.
User Reviews
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2008-05-11 03:42:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I didn't read this because it's been so long since the last one that I have absolutely no idea what's going on anymore and I don't have the inclination to re-read the entire series again. But +2 for putting effort into something.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2008-05-09 18:54:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Rest assured, dude, this series is one of the better things...one of the best things...posted on Uber. This is quality writing...especially because with this series you took what could have been a very cliched scenario and still managed to keep it fresh and readable...even captivating at times. A lot of people wouldn't have been able to do that.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-05-09 17:01:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
OK! I will!
Enjoy my life, I mean.
I've certainly enjoyed running you off of Ubersite!
Submitted by GangsterSquid (user info) at 2008-05-09 14:53:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:43:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:31:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 17:20:30 CDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.
awesome!
--
That's part of the reason right there. Honest feedback or criticism is welcomed, regardless of the rating, but this mindless garbage from the I CAN'T CREATE SO I'LL JUST SHIT ON EVERYTHING crowd has finally worn me down. I keep thinking people might enjoy a tale with some effort put into it, along with an illustration done for the story. I should have realized how wrong I was a long time ago.
My interest in ubersite has reached its limits.
Congratulations to all you fuckwits. Have a nice life.
________________________________
Oh my god. What a fucking pussy.
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2008-05-09 13:52:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:20:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.
~~~
New installments will be posted on my new website, youdon'twanttoknowjack dot com! With only 800% more pop-up banners and income for me!
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-09 12:28:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
boo hoo
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-08 18:23:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by PepsiCoke (user info) at 2008-05-08 18:06:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
GTFO
Your stories are shit.
===============
I've asked you repeatedly to do better. You continue to disappoint. Shut up.
Submitted by PepsiCoke (user info) at 2008-05-08 18:06:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
GTFO
Your stories are shit.
Submitted by jimboruckus (user info) at 2008-05-08 16:27:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2008-05-08 15:52:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:43:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.
.....
My interest in ubersite has reached its limits.
Congratulations to all you fuckwits. Have a nice life.
-----------------------------
God fucking dammit. Let me know where the rest of it goes, I really like it. hoo_flungg_pu.at.hotmail.com
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2008-05-08 15:51:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by messmind (user info) at 2008-05-08 15:49:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Don't be a pussy.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-08 15:39:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-08 15:38:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Think of it this way: If you quit, Anus Apollo and Moron Method win.
Don't give them the satisfaction.
Submitted by X54 (user info) at 2008-05-08 15:26:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, it was good while it lasted. FWIW I thought the part where Addison recalls falling in the manure pit etc. was a little too tangential to warrant so much space. At this point, it seems like its only relevance was to emphasise how deep the mudholes in the washout might be. Maybe it's setting the stage for something yet to come, but I guess now I'll never know. Hope you change your mind about pulling out.
Thanks for the read!
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-05-08 02:27:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If your really leaving, Jack, best of luck to you. I've enjoyed many of your stories.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2008-05-08 01:47:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:43:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
My interest in ubersite has reached its limits.
Congratulations to all you fuckwits. Have a nice life.
***
you my friend, are a very slow learner
Submitted by lostnphound (user info) at 2008-05-08 00:34:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
thanks, Penis breath. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to read this. I've been asking for this continuation for awhile now. I felt blue balled when you said you might not finish it.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-07 21:41:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Certain individuals who frequent this site think it is the epitome of humor to revile good things, especially the things they cannot do themselves. In this case it was a fathead from Texas who has the writing ability of a retarded frog.
Nah, I apologize for that. Apollo is not THAT stupid. He has a small modicum of talent buried deep down inside, but it just doesn't surface very often. He is not much different from the average asswipe on here, and by that I mean he will say thing from the shelter of anonimity that he wouldn't have the balls to say in person. You can't really blame him for that stance, as facing someone and calling them a fool to their face takes a certain amount of guts that most people don't have.
Enough rambling. Jack, please don't leave because some BritTex cretin throws verbals spears from hiding. Just ignore him and continue to give us the best of your writings. Thanks.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-07 21:25:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Willie, writing.com has over 500,000 members. You would be a smaller turd in a bigger pool.
:)
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-05-07 21:23:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
just fuckin' around bubba
please come back jack
if you do i'll write another story about you
bubba too
boo hoo i miss him already
i'm going to leave too
writing.com here i come
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-07 21:19:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Whachoo tryin to say, Willard?
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-07 21:18:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
GodChicken, StJimmy, and VileSin: Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:29:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/116521#2705267
:)
I may be wrong, but I don't think so. . .
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-05-07 21:01:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/cgi-bin/moreinfo.cgi?uber=VileSin&cutoff=5
Submitted by VileSin (user info) at 2008-05-07 20:35:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Then fucking post a link to it somewhere else. I enjoy these things but it pisses me off to no end when people put something in the public view and then don't bother to finish off the project.
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2008-05-07 20:26:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:20:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.
____________
That sucks. This has potential.
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2008-05-07 19:05:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
where the hell is the rest going, then?
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:43:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:31:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 17:20:30 CDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.
awesome!
--
That's part of the reason right there. Honest feedback or criticism is welcomed, regardless of the rating, but this mindless garbage from the I CAN'T CREATE SO I'LL JUST SHIT ON EVERYTHING crowd has finally worn me down. I keep thinking people might enjoy a tale with some effort put into it, along with an illustration done for the story. I should have realized how wrong I was a long time ago.
My interest in ubersite has reached its limits.
Congratulations to all you fuckwits. Have a nice life.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:31:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 17:20:30 CDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.
awesome!
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:29:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/116521#2705267
:)
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:20:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
That photoshop was a bitch, btw.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-05-07 18:20:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This will be the final chapter of Redemption Road posted on Ubersite.