Fight Club Chronicles: Recruitment (643 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 0.95 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Freakmagnet (View user info) at 2006-01-15 20:19:00 EST
Note: I'm sure everyone hear has read and seen the book and movie Fight Club. If you haven't yet, you should. It kicks ass. When I read/saw it, I found that there was a lot of room for spin-offs. This is the first in a series I want to do on ubersite. I think its pretty cool. Everyone should do a couple. I'd love to read more of them.
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I've heard of Tyler Durden, but never seen or met Him. I'm not even completely sure of His existence. He is a concept for us, a demigod, our nirvana. When you are worthless, when you are nothing, when you are of no value to anyone, you are Tyler Durden. Tyler Durden is the rotten mix of sweat, cum, and dirt that sticks to your shoes at the porno theater. Tyler Durden is...well, you get the picture.
My homework assignment this week is a recruiting project. I'm going to get us a lawyer. Recruiting is easy; you just have to find the right loser, the right broken soul, the man who needs a fight the most. They can be anywhere, from Beverly Hills, to South Central. They're just waiting to be found, to be saved, to hear the word of Tyler. It's our gift to the world.
I walk into the Law Offices Kent, Donnelly, and Berkson. It's a big firm, lots of partners, but I guess only the really important people get their names in the title. The Law Offices of Durden, Christ, and Gandhi. Ha-ha. I've done my research, today I'm recruiting Kent, and he's going through a nasty divorce. It seems that eighty hours a week drove his loving wife into the arms of the lowly pool boy...how cliché. However, it does reinforce the fact that you don't need a big house and a Lexus and all that shit. All the pool boy had was a hose. I'll bet Kent regrets buying a pool.
I approach the sexy young secretary. She's typing something on the computer and doesn't look up. I'm sure it is terribly trivial. That is why she can't even be bothered to look at a potential client.
Me: I need to speak with Mr. Kent.
Sexetary (That's a clever name I made up for her.): I'm sorry, he's very busy.
I thought she might say that, she still doesn't look at me.
Me: It's terribly important.
Sexetary: I'm sorry; you'll have to make an appointment.
Me: Please.
She finally looks at me. She recoils slightly; both my eyes are deep purple, with yellow rings. The side of my face is stitched from my eye to my chin. I did the stitches myself, and I'm not good at it. I'm sure its weeping. I'm also missing and incisor. It's a damn shame too; incisors are my favorite kind of teeth. She doesn't ask what happened; they usually don't, especially if they don't care. She looks back down and resumes typing.
Sexetary: Make an appointment.
Me: Well then perhaps you can help me.
Sexetary: You need more help than I can give pal.
I laugh loudly and this makes her uncomfortable. The other sexetaries are beginning to stare. I am really enjoying myself. I work up some tears.
Me: You see, my wife recently passed away. Rather violently actually, she was hit by a drunken truck driver. An Exxon truck. The company has lots of insurance, but I don't, and I'm no good with this sort of thing. Blah Blah Blah.
I profess my sob story and she is instantly intrigued. Big company, little people, insurance, intoxication. Very lucrative. I'm a good talker. Suddenly Mr. Kent is free of his prior engagement and I am in his office sipping bad coffee, and eating stale pastries. This is fun. Mr. Kent has nice hair, a blue suit, a tie that probably cost more than a Polio Vaccine. I am wearing clothes I made myself. He doesn't ask about my face.
I am very devastated by wife's recent death. He is terribly sorry. He wishes to help. He is optimistic about the case. He needs more details. I supply the details, the tears, the copious amounts of bullshit. Our interview is winding down and I can see the greed in his hungry eyes. He is so hungry, and he will never be satisfied. I smile inwardly.
Kent: Well I really have to get to a conference. Let me give you my home phone number. Would you like someone to walk you to the door?
He slides me a business card across his mahogany desk. I politely slide it back.
Me: I won't be needing this.
Kent: Why not?
Me: I was lying.
Kent: What?
Me: I was lying.
Kent: About the accident?
He is getting angry.
Me: Yes.
Kent: Why?
Me: I wanted to get your hopes up. You were so excited, you were walking on sunshine. But now you realize I tricked you. The opportunity is not only gone, it was never there to begin with. Thousands, maybe millions of dollars, gone, obliterated. Down in flames, just like your marriage.
Kent's eyes darken and I like to think he dies a little inside. His left fist lunges across the desk and into my battered face. I feel my stitches split, pouring blood and puss down the side of my face. I also notice he isn't wearing a wedding ring. Losing a fight is an art. You have to throw enough punched so that they don't feel sorry for you and stop. It is very important that they feel like they actually accomplished something when the fight is over. I recover and lunge at him across the table knocking him backwards and clamping my fingers around his throat. He easily turns me over and lays another one into my face. I knock him backwards and stand up, dragging him by his tie head first into the wall. He crashes to the ground a bloody mess. He picks himself up, no doubt seeing red and tackles me to the ground. He pounds fist after fist into me until my face is practically hamburger. Forty so years of pent up rage, aggression, hatred, of never being satisfied, of trying to be complete, of wasted ambition. This is my gift to Kent. This is my gift to God's fucked over creation. You're welcome Kent. You're welcome world. I go limp and Kent eventually stops. He stands up, I stand up, we stand up. He looks at me, red faced and confused. I lean in for a hug, he accepts. I gently slide a folded up piece of paper into his pocket. He does not notice.
HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER
1324 PAPER STREET
User Reviews
Submitted by Embryo (user info) at 2006-01-16 00:51:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I dig it.
Submitted by Lmarie22000 (user info) at 2006-01-16 00:27:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like it.
Submitted by Deconstruction (user info) at 2006-01-16 00:14:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
you deserve a better rating for this, it wasn't .7 quality, it was much better.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-01-15 23:27:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Hey, I like this idea. The story wasn't bad either, it just lacked...punch.
HA!!
Seriously, the concept was there, the plot was good, but I thought the delivery wasn't all it could be.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2006-01-15 22:52:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I never really thought about the other characters in that story having their own thoughts and struggles.
That means this is either a really good idea or a really bad one...I'll have to ponder it a bit but I may do one of these, time permitting.
Submitted by Deconstruction (user info) at 2006-01-15 22:10:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Faidel (user info) at 2006-01-15 21:01:37 (#)
Ranking: 2
Well you're not Chuck Palahniuk, but you have given emulating his style a good shot.
I liked it, no idea why others wouldn't apart from that fact that Uber's seem to get quite tetchy when someone suggests they do something. Like write about your ideas.
I'd read more of these if you wrote them.
Not +2 worthy, maybe a +1.5, but I'll round it up as an apology on behalf part of the human race that is polite for Method's acerbic, but undeniably hilarious, witty and poignant response.
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what he, and everyone else, including method, said.
Submitted by Unabonger (user info) at 2006-01-15 22:03:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
sure.
Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky (user info) at 2006-01-15 21:22:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
this wasnt all bad
Submitted by G-prime (user info) at 2006-01-15 21:04:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by mtgn37 (user info) at 2006-01-15 20:55:40 (#)
Ranking: -2
should you be talking about this?
Submitted by Faidel (user info) at 2006-01-15 21:01:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well you're not Chuck Palahniuk, but you have given emulating his style a good shot.
I liked it, no idea why others wouldn't apart from that fact that Uber's seem to get quite tetchy when someone suggests they do something. Like write about your ideas.
I'd read more of these if you wrote them.
Not +2 worthy, maybe a +1.5, but I'll round it up as an apology on behalf part of the human race that is polite for Method's acerbic, but undeniably hilarious, witty and poignant response.
Submitted by mtgn37 (user info) at 2006-01-15 20:55:40 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
should you be talking about this?
Submitted by Freakmagnet (user info) at 2006-01-15 20:27:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2006-01-15 20:21:13 (#)
Ranking: 1
What's going on?
+1 as i saw that film last night
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I'm trying to start a series where people write their own spin-offs of Fight Club. I guess method doesn't approve. Also, in the first sentence I spelled "here" wrong. I'm sure there are a ton of typos in it.
Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2006-01-15 20:21:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
What's going on?
+1 as i saw that film last night
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-01-15 20:19:52 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Eat fuck