The Great v2 Novel

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Post by Adam D on Fri 13 Sep 2013, 3:47 pm

I tried to do this when this site first started and it was quite entertaining for a while before people lost interest but I feel that its a good time to give it another go.

Basically, we are going to collectively write a novel.

I will start off with a little intro and then anyone can write the next section.

The only rules are, that it must make sense in what has gone before and not be too silly!!

So here we go.......


"Most stories are about love, death, betrayal and the colourful characters that weave them all together. Well mine is no different in that respect but mine is one that will be told for years to come. Mine is a tale of this moment in time. As I sit here, looking out at the creek, the images of the last few years are as foggy as the mist rising from the water. This moment is defined by all that has gone before and to understand how I sit here now, looking at my prosphetic hand, whilst toying with the patch over my eye, I must take you back to the very beginning. I must take you back 9 months to........"

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Post by ShahenshahG on Fri 13 Sep 2013, 7:47 pm

The first evening, when we were hiding our nerves by mocking each other, trying to ignore the shady path we had taken to come this far. The blood we'd spilt, the people we crossed and double-crossed in our relentless quest to climb out of the gutter and to the top of the food chain. That all our enemies were dead, in a coma or in a cell didn't do much to allay our fears and each of us had taken great care not to walk under ladders, cross any paths withblack cats and we had our fingers crossed. You've probably just rolled your eyes, but when death came for him even Oscar Wilde believed in God. We felt we were in the sights of a sniper and the only safe haven from him was tommorow. We got through that day with moderate success and a moderate income and felt the pendulum swing in our favour. It did - for a while, 6 months of increasing revenue and increased market share and ever larger diamonds adorning our wives hands. Local politicians first and state leaders later, shaking hands with the boys who were an inspiration to the nation. Then he was released from his wrongful imprisonment...

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Post by Adam D on Mon 16 Sep 2013, 1:19 pm

His name was Mark Twain. Not the famous writer of yesteryear but someone who was going to be much more infamous in my timeline.

His backstory at this stage is not important but all you need to know at this conjecture was that his uncontested sentence for armed robbery had come to an end.

The whole 15 year sentence had finished, without a work from Twain as to who his conspirators were. And at this point there were only 3 people who knew that he had none. Myself, my brother Tom and Twain himself.

Prison does strange things to men. To Twain, it had focused him into a beast hellbent on revenge. Not the physical kind but the psychological route.

He had 15 years to plan his revenge. And July 4th was his independence day.

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Post by Guest on Mon 16 Sep 2013, 2:02 pm

I can see why this died on it's ar5e last time round....thought Harry Potter as Andy McNab put him through his paces on the newly built SAS training ground cum Quidditch arena.

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Post by Galted on Mon 16 Sep 2013, 2:05 pm

As vague and unimportant as the history of his life may be, one thing is certain, he had not always been "Mark Twain", that one had stuck during a stint in Louisiana State Penitentiary.  His name had changed more times than he cared to remember, as had his birth-date and any other details the bureaucrats and newshounds valued.  He'd done time before, a month here, a year there but, when he'd faded from the news the right signature found its way onto the right form and he was out again under a new identity.  The 15 year sentence had taken us all by surprise.
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Post by Enforcer on Mon 16 Sep 2013, 2:26 pm

But enough of Mark Twain for the time being, he will feature more than enough in the tale I am about to tell.
 
As I said, for 6 months we had reaped in money like never before. Business was growing but, as is the way, so were the number of people who considered us enemies. But we weren't concerned with that, increasing revenue also increases the number of people looking for a slice of the action.
 
We could boast some of the toughest, and sickest, men in the Western world. We acted with impunity and we weren't slow in putting our hired hands to work.
 
That is how our probelms started...when we sent Jimmy The Knife to send a message to...

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Post by JuliusHMarx on Tue 17 Sep 2013, 1:34 pm

"Benny" Franklin. Jimmy didn't come back. Three days later they found his body in a dumpster at the back of a cutlery factory. Big joke. Clearly Benny's answer was 'No'.
We should have left it at that, but the beer goggles of our recent successes had made us view the bigger sharks in our pool as mere goldfish. Benny, we figured, was just another guy getting in our way. Problem is, when your having fun riding a wave, who ever thinks it's a good idea to stop and do your homework?

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Post by Adam D on Tue 17 Sep 2013, 2:58 pm


Unfortunately, our wave was about to hit the rocks. That homework that we forget to check was that Benny was in with the feds. On the face of things, Benny was another player in our snake pit but what we didnt know was that Benny was an undercover cop.

Now before I go any further, its important that I tell you about our ride to wealth and how we first came across the Benny's of this world.

Suits.

We started off as suitmakers in downtown Philidelphia and quickly became famed for our quality threads that adorned the local businessmen. Then the mob got involved and our dangerous game started. In return for the finest tailoring, our competitors all strangely began to disappear. And it hadnt gone unnoticed.

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Post by JuliusHMarx on Tue 17 Sep 2013, 3:14 pm

It wasn't long before we were approached by Mike "The Tailor" Taylor. Mike was a nice guy. Family man, hard worker. All he'd ever wanted was to save up enough money to send his 2 kids to a nice college. Now he just wanted to be around long enough to see them through high school.
Mike came to us in a panic, his expertly fitted white cotton shirt soured by sweat on the collar and at odds with the dishevelled mess of his hair. He wanted us to get the mob off his back, leave him enough pieces that he'd at least have something to pack up and get of out town.
When I look back now, I can just about justify all the decisions we'd made up til then. But at that point, with Mike standing in front of us, more mannequin dummy than tailor....

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Post by Enforcer on Wed 18 Sep 2013, 9:58 am

our one way ticket to hell was signed, sealed and delivered.
 
I am not a bad person, I honestly don't think any of us are, but power does strange things to you. We were untouchable, we had the mob behind us.
 
I can't remember who slapped Mike first, it may have been me, but the whole thing happened in a blur. Mike was dishevelled, but he was a man and didn't stand for that, he sung back and things quickly deteriorated.
 
Before any of us knew what had happened Mike was lying lifeless on the floor, a bloody mess. The four of us stood around his corpse, nobody moving until...

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Post by MidnightToker on Thu 19 Sep 2013, 3:41 pm

... The knock at the door snapped us out of our trance like states and if that didn't then Harry the Weasels bellowing voice sure did. Of all the people to turn up at that moment. The mob needed Mike alive and we knew it. Sheer panic gripped us as the reality of our situation sunk in...

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Post by Guest on Thu 19 Sep 2013, 5:36 pm

Like randonly erasing someone's post on a forum, Mike had been wiped out of existence and, like the postless forum, the place would be all the poorer for it. However, we decided not to let bitterness get in the way of the matter in hand and quickly set about clearing up the mess. The body was hastily shoved into a cupboard, furniture was re-arranged to hide the tell tale signs of a scuffle, sweaty brows were mopped and neckties straightened.

Trembling fingers (that was his name) opened the door and we waited to hear what Harry would say. The sigh of relief that exploded from Trembling's throat was like a gunshot. We scrambled to the door to discover that, instead of Harry the Weasel, our dear friend and mimic extraordinaire, Paulie was at the threshhold, the tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks and running into the stupid Zapata moustache he insisted on cultivating.

Grabbing him roughly by the collar, we dragged him inside and before he could protest a rough hand was clapped to his mouth. Paulie could be a problem if handled in the wrong way however, we were hoping he'd become an asset rather than a liability in the next few crucial hours

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Post by Il Gialloblu on Mon 23 Sep 2013, 3:41 pm

Hours that were to be spent in our underpants, thanks to...
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Post by JuliusHMarx on Wed 06 Nov 2013, 5:25 pm

... and they all lived happily ever after.

THE END

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Post by Il Gialloblu on Thu 07 Nov 2013, 5:49 pm

Until...
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