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All That Glitters Is Not Gold, But It's Still Damn Beautiful
« on: November 23, 2017, 04:49:33 AM »
Ever since he could remember, Alfie Tenner wanted to be a hero. Growing up on the estate as he did, one would think there was little opportunity for one to do so, but a young enterprising chap like him always found a way. The Cornish Estate was home to various ne’erdowells and miscreants. The young men and women did not have much choice but to join one of the roughshod gangs of bandits and black market dealers. Alfie did not have any choice. His was the further misfortune of being born a Blatt. Outlawry was in his blood and in his stars. They did revel in it. There has never been such a band of cantankerous misfits and foolhardy money grabbers as that lot. So when I try to save our Alfie by suggesting that he should jump off the bridge he is passing or drink the bleach under the sink please understand, dear audience, that I am only trying to save him. I am his conscience and those little voices inside his head that make the good decisions.

I first learned of his aspirations when he was just a boy and he saw a copper series on television. His heart skipped a beat and his thoughts almost drowned me out with how fast paced they were. Yes, the adventures of Lynley and Havers did excite our dear boy. He would go out and roam the estate looking for petty crimes to stop or missing items to recover.  He would help old ladies cross the street and chase down shoplifters. Sometimes the thieves fought back and really gave him what for. This didn’t deter Alfie. He got real friendly with the shop owners who figured this was a part of the service the Blatt family provided the neighborhood. When he was in town they would inform Alfie of who they suspected of being a shoplifter and he would wait until they left the store and nicked the item back. Sometimes he was able to pick their pockets or perform the age old technique of the grab and dash when the suspect stopped to rest. On the rare occasions where he had to resort to fighting the thieves they gave him what for. He was just a child after all. I would try to scare the courage out of him as best I could. I would call out to him.

“He’s a killer. He’s a killer. Run. Run! He’s a killer.”

But, ladies and gentlemen, this would only serve to embolden our young chap and he would fight them with all his young might. What little he had was supplemented with his iron rage. See this was around the time that me and a few of my friends taking residence in his subconscious came out to play, as it were. We did a number on young Alfie and he was looking for a way out. It turned out that the fisticuffs was just the answer. It shut us up and made him see and think clearly. It was no use having The Eyes, Peephole Smith, pop out of the corner dressed as Tottenham’s Chirpy Cockerel if his mind was set on beating the snot out of the boy that stole a Yorkie Bar from Mr. Luthra.  The Heart, Bubble Zee, tried to get him so paranoid that he’d pissed his pants in fear and I continued on with me reasoning that if he lept off the top floor of the estate he could fly with the angels by suppertime. Nothing worked when he balled up his fists and went crime fighting. His little sister, the tart, informed his father. That is how the training started.

The esteemed Blatt elder, known on the streets as Arnold Dosh, sent the boy to one of his boxing gyms. They were expanding at the time to include a mixed martial arts curriculum and that is what the Alfie took to. Oh those must have been blissful hours for him, getting his body into shape, and honing his body and mind to transforming into a disciplined and strong fighting machine. Dreadful nonsense, really. You see, we couldn’t guide him. We couldn’t give him the urge to join us. He spent all day at the gym for months. Then it was time to put him to use. First his father urged him to seek out all those boys that beat him up in the past and ask them to fight again. The rest of his siblings usually accompanied him on these missions so the assailant of days past always complied. Alfie would ravage them. It was beautiful. My colleagues seemed to be in support of these ideas. Peephole Smith made him see rotten meat on food or blood seeping out of drainage holes. Bubble Zee, made him feel like he was doing something bad when he was not fighting. I held my hopes that he would take a razor to his wrists but all my suggestions only pushed him to fight more. So our Alfie, bless his heart, would seek out the most precarious heroic situations to fling himself at.

One time he got onto something big. It turned out an upstart gang of Chinese youths were haranguing his sister about the values of sharing. They wanted to sell their reefer joints at their school and little Ashley (she did not adopt that horrible spelling until after she met the American) politely informed them that they could kindly… “bugger an eggroll” if they weren’t at least going to pay a tribute. She’s very charming, that one. Anyways despite little Ashley’s sensitive and diplomatic remarks these youths did not let up. They were advancing onto young Blatt territory and she did not want to lose face with their father. Her other brothers and sisters were ready to destroy the oriental chaps but Ashley thought it was time for Alfie to join the family business. He was always coddled and protected on account of his condition. Ashley was the only one that didn’t have any reservations. So she convinces him that these gentlemen from the far east are trying to force her to use drugs so they can take advantage of her and he gets livid. The Blatt children at this point are well versed in the effects illicit substances have on people but to use them to get with his sister was just horrible. So Alfie goes to them and asks for a meet on the rooftop of the school. I don’t know if he was taking a queue from me but when the blokes arrive he grabs one of them and throws him over the roof.  He holds on, of course, and dares them to get close. He has them agree to stop selling to his sister and to pay him personally from any profits they made. Ashley was ecstatic. His intentions were good but Alfie was now officially in the family business. She had him.

So you may be asking yourself that if I know about Ashley’s first ruse of the many does Alfie know. I am, after all, inside his head. Well, dear reader, to that I say to stop being a bloody smartarse and just keep on reading. If some part of him knew what she was doing it definitely did not register to the main part of him because he took that string and followed it all the way after her. From stolen goods to promised services Ashley got ahead in the competitive family largely due to him. She would make up these stories about missing merchandise or unpaid child support for her mates. Alfie would listen sincerely and then go off and steal something back or collect on some deadbeat for her money. He was grown now and accepted the fact that one of the few things he was good at was fighting.The people around the estate began seeing him as just another thug and an invalid since he was often left alone when his symptoms flared up. He would be fighting with some “thieves” that owed his sister money one day, then holed up on top of the jungle gym thinking that the squirrels are out to get him the next.

Her first great score would get her on the top of the Blatt children food chain and bring Alfie all the way down. It all started when Ashley’s boyfriend at the time was nicked by the cops for stealing hubcaps. She had wanted a tattoo and it was of the utmost importance that he raise the money for it to show his dedication. He was willing but not able so he was caught. She was rather fond of this guy so she concocted a tale of great injustice for Alfie to help her out. Alfie, as you may know, is a boy of great imagination and creativity. It doesn’t have anything to do with us. We use it as well to affect him but there is so much to work with. He looked at the situation and figured that the only possible solution was a jail break. Alfie was 17 at the time and had the traits of a leader outside of his immediate family. He was a legend around the estate so he organized a few of his friends and started a riot. This was a rowdy night out at the pubs multiplied by five. The cops were overwhelmed as random people joined in on the looting. Everyone forgot the fake reason why it happened but the real reason was because the transporting of Ashley’s boyfriend taking place at the same time. Among the wreckage and destruction, Alfie organized a bit of a bother for the cops transporting the boyfriend to his juvenile detention by way of two burning dumpsters on the road at the edge of the rioting. When the cars stopped Alfie and crew ran to the back and popped the lock to let all the prisoners out. Ashley dumped the boy a month later but it was the release of another notorious family’s son that got her the attention of the father. A young Royston Popplewell from the Campground Gypsies of Blackpool was in that vehicle and his family was grateful to the Blatts. It led to a period of peace and prosperity for everyone involved. Everyone, that is, except Alfie.

It was by chance that when he ran away from the truck after releasing those inside a copper recognized him and he was picked up the next day to be released when he became an adult. His time in juvenile detention was not pleasant, to say the least. It took some time to diagnose him with his condition and the lack of medication and stress allowed me and my colleagues to do whatever we wanted. He would see giant rats., feel guilty about destroying the whole city to rubble, and I made him punch any guard silly enough to get in his way. We got a lot stronger when they sent him to isolation. We were well entrenched as time went on and when he was able to get out we were a part of him. The only thing that was lost in him was the desire to do good. He stopped trying to fight crime and dove headfirst into the family business under Ashley’s tutelage. He was her muscle and it would prove a good experience not having to care about what he is doing. But he does care.

Our Alfie has shed many a tear over what he perceives is a groce injustice that he exists this way with us in his head but that is life. He only copes through fighting and Ashley. She tells different stories now and in some of them I can see him looking at the world with hope that he can be what he was when he was young: A hero.

Sincerely yours,
   Uric Elf

Alfie Tenner sits atop of a field at night. He area is illuminated by the moonlight and the light of the camera and the cigarette he smokes. The red further highlights the tattoos on his face and hand. He lifts his hand up and tries to trace a few constellations between the stars.

“I like it out ‘ere. Just me , the grass, those trees over there, the moon and stars. This is a bit o’ me this is. Just look at that sky.”

He looks around for the north star and does a whole 360 degree turn before finally locating it and pointing it out for the camera.

“Do you guys want to know what my guiding star is? It’s fighting. When I fight the whole bloody world just goes away. All ov the shite in me mind is just flushed out. I don’t know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing but I always go into a fight wanting to end it as quickly as possible and wiv as little damage as possible. The way I fight, right? I can end it ‘owever I want, as soon as I want. It feels real good to finish a fight. Those are my little flash accomplishments that give me the same sense ov relief like when you win a videogame but for real. I was a bit skeptical at first when A$hley decided to put me back into a ring wiv wrestling organization. I figured it would take all the fun out ov fighting. I don’t really liked being pinned down by rules and what not. So when I came to F2W I saw why this would work for me. It was so simple.

“This is where I can fight for a reason. There are many personalities ‘ere and it ‘as proven not to be all about the money. Some people just want to do ‘arm. On Melee 3 I get to be the hero and take out a true villain in Blackstar. That is what it’s all about. If I try me ‘ardest and feel like a hero then this is all worth it. This man would make anyone feel like a hero when they go up against ‘im. I thought I rolled deep back ‘ome but this man ‘as got an army at his disposal. His minions essentially took over and did a lot ov damage. I don’t even want to know what that bloke was using to fight Natalie King wiv. These guys ‘ave capabilities that are way beyond anything we know in this, our modern world.

“I do not know why these men or Blackstar their leader just take their knowledge and sell it to the ‘ighest bidder. They could ‘ave a legit company wiv all sorts ov contracts ov both military and civilian uses. It seems like it would ‘elp out a lot ov people. They could make millions… proper dosh. They got a cyborg, don’t they? Instead what do they do? They try to force their way into people’s ‘earts and minds and take over the world. I will not let let that ‘appen. I know what it’s like to not ‘ave control over your own self and it is just wrong. I bet all those people on his shit are brainwashed and silently in turmoil I will not let this Blackstar take over the minds ov millions ov other wiv his scientology bollocks. They did what they did over a piece ov information. Over nothing. They scared all those people and killed that robot possibly maybe.”

He scratches his ‘ead then suddenly points up at Orion.

“The point is I’m going to be like Orion the ‘unter, big and brave chasing his prey up there. Like A$hley tells me. He is remembered for a reason. Me? I‘m going to do whatever it is I can to stop Blackstar and his cronies from destroying F2W and the world. This time I will get to play the hero and it will be me who is remembered. For something good this time. Blackstar can try to intimidate me all he wants wiv his fuckin’ grand boasts but I am not intimidated. Not even by God ‘imself, if that’s what he wants to be. He can bring down the whole might ov the Church on me ‘ead and I will stand strong. My mind may be weak but my body is not fragile. I can survive anything and I will definitely survive Blackstar.”

He sits down and takes another puff from his cigarette.

“I’m unwell. Right now at this moment. There ‘as been this lingering sense ov unease about me as soon as the card was announced. I’ve been carrying it wiv me all this time. I’d call it a premonition if I wasn’t convinced my mind was playing tricks on me. There isn’t any way for you to overcome my spirit, mate. I figured I’ll use this bad feeling to my advantage. I never do this but instead ov trying to ignore it I’ll use it as a launching pad. Only way to go is up from this pit.I just got my mind on me goal. You want to know what that is, mate? I plan to get immortalized among the stars. You, Blackstar, fly up there in that fancy ship wanting to rule over everyone under your Scientology banner ov oppression. Any mention ov your name in vain becomes a diss. Not me, mate. I wish to become the stars. Immortal in the people's ‘earts and minds. That is what lasts for real and that is what you don’t understand. You can’t control people. I fight against being controlled all the bloody time. It is in our nature to be free. It is in my mind to be somebody special. It is in my soul to be a hero.”

Finally he leans down all the way flat on the grass and traces the path of a shooting star with a finger gun We cut when he shoots.

“Bang”

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