Twitter Fiction Reader

Heckler4Truth - Mon Nov 28 2011

05:44 AM #
But it's only a matter of time before they take him down.

05:45 AM #
He locks eyes with me for a second and smiles proudly, as if to say "You go ahead on, boss. I'll handle these guys."

05:46 AM #
...and I TRY to do that, but one cop has stuck with me, and he's simply sitting on my chest. I can't move.

05:47 AM #
Then just as the police finally grab him, Benjamin -- shy, whsipering, polite Benjamin -- lets loose a string of creative obscenities which

05:48 AM #
could peel paint off a battleship. And he's loud -- my God, is he LOUD! (Good apprentice, he's learned well.)

05:49 AM #
But his NC-17 primal screams appear to be a signal of some sort: dozens of young people are suddenly in the middle of the scene -- unkempt,

05:51 AM #
overcaffeinated, and swinging baseball bats at anything in police blues. My GOD, I think -- really?

05:52 AM #
Closer inspection show that these are plastic wiffle ball bats, which can't do a person much harm. So it's more of a "statement." A prank.

05:54 AM #
It's street theater. My first thought: the reviews are gonna be HARSH. It doesn't take Nostradamus to see where this is going.

05:55 AM #
(SIDEBAR: As it turns out, cops get sort of put out when ANYTHING is swung at them. Are we not *born* with this inherent knowledge?)

05:55 AM #
Hell breaks loose. I am dead center in a bona fide riot.

09:08 PM #
Someone onstage strikes up the a cappella chorus, and they launch into a spirited version of "New York, New York."

09:09 PM #
There's something admirable about this, a band-playing-while-the-Titanic-sinks kind of spirit. Downright plucky in the face of doom.

09:10 PM #
And it can't last, of course: the tight harmonies soon get ragged as hyperactive anarchists, Starbucks-ed to their very MARROW, jump up

09:11 PM #
onstage and make a mosh pit of the sweet-voiced young people and the assembled dignitaries.

09:13 PM #
They're followed closely by cops and all manner of other plainclothed officers of the law (or whatever we're calling the law these days),

09:14 PM #
who suddenly appear out of thin air. Deadly, no-bullshit chamelons.

09:16 PM #
The peppy young singers scatter like ants, though still, improbably, trying to keep up the tune: " a part of it New York NEW YORK..."

09:17 PM #
Benjamin has been absolutely engulfed by now. He's in a huddle of blue bodies, clubs coming down hard on him. I only see his legs, his

09:17 PM #
torn jeans, kicking at... nothing.

09:19 PM #
This is terrible, this is SHOCKING to me -- I hate violence! And yet, in the middle of this, to my (retroactive) shame, I am still mainly

09:19 PM #
interested in where Bud's camera is pointed.