The Growth Ledger (Deleted Scene)11/14/83 10 years, 4 months 74¼” 204 lbs.
Reenie never had much time for Saturday morning cartoons. Usually she was up and out jogging with Derek when they were playing.
But one morning it was raining so hard that even Derek and Reenie were willing to stay indoors. When Reenie was done lifting weights in the basement, she came up and sat down next to Jody.
The Smurfs was on. I remember this because it was a very strange episode, where there was some kind of magic door that could only be unlocked by solving an algebra problem. Given the sums of K+E, E+Y and K+Y, they had to solve K+E+Y.
“I wonder if I could figure it out,” said Reenie. (People sometimes assumed that because she was so big and strong, she couldn’t be very bright. She took great pleasure in proving them wrong.)
“I bet I can,” I said. I’m an accountant — it would be a pretty poor showing if I couldn’t solve this. So we both picked up paper and penc
Welcome To Our World (1700 words)by Paul Briggs
2. 3. And a little symbol — a thick vertical line with arrows pointing outward on either side. That was what was on the little slip of paper taped to the bottom of Gomez’s desk drawer.
She had found it working at his desk yesterday. Her first thought had been that it was some kind of password, but the symbol didn’t match anything you could make on the keyboard.
It wasn’t until the end of the day, when she’d stepped into the elevator, that she had realized what it was. The symbol had been sketched out to match, as carefully as possible, the “open door” button on the elevator. On a whim, she had pressed 2, then 3, then the “open door” button. What had happened, of course, was that the door (which had been in the process of closing) had opened again. Then it had closed, and the elevator had gone down to the second floor, then up to the third floor. That had been a minor waste of time.
Today, she was about ready to forget
Locksmith's Closet (Deleted Scene: Swan Attack)Ahead was the beaver dam pond.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m really tired,” said Gary. “Could we stop to rest for a minute?”
Lock looked at his watch, then nodded. Gary sat down heavily on the ground and started massaging his legs. Then there was a rustling in the bushes… and a swan burst out and charged him, wings beating furiously.
Lock backed away, but it kept coming after him. He turned to run, tripped and fell to his knees and dropped the camera. The swan’s wing struck him across the shoulders.
This was much more painful that he would have believed. It was like being hit by a steel baton wrapped in a very thin layer of cloth. Lock dived into the underbrush.
It was still after him. It pecked at the soles of his shoes, which didn’t hurt, and then pecked him in the seat of his pants, which did. Some part of Lock’s mind was astounded at his own actions as he turned over, kicked it in the chest and punched it in the side o
Locksmith's Closet (Deleted Scene: Mom Loses It)by Paul Briggs
Catching a glimpse of his face in the side mirror of the car, Lock grimaced a little. When Dad was alive, Mom would always make them get a haircut just before he came back — a really short haircut, just like his. Now Dad wasn’t coming back, period… but still she kept after them about their hair. Which was why, right now, his ears were sticking out like a pair of big mushrooms in a field of auburn stubble. And his cheekbones flared out, giving his whole head that stylish gourd shape. On Monday he would go back to class looking like the Prince of Dorkness.
Bill, sitting in the back seat, wasn’t much happier. The barber who had done his hair had seen the length of it and muttered something about “damn hippies” and Bill’s jaw had dropped open.
“Hippies? Hippies?” he’d said, looking around in disbelief. “Am I the only one here who even knows what decade this is?” But neither Mom nor the barber wou
How I Got Laughed Out of Hollywood (First 6 Pages)by Paul Briggs
SCOTT, quite old — at least eighty — but quite sharp.
“JERRY,” a young man.
“ECKELBERG,” a man doing a very bad Bela Lugosi impression.
“ANNE,” a young woman.
“MELISSA,” a woman of no particular age.
SCOTT is sitting, front and center, with a glass of iced tea at a table next to him. He looks out at the audience with a rueful smile. “JERRY’s” voice comes on over the loudspeakers. Theremin music is playing in the background.
“JERRY”: The end of the world began, not in terror and darkness, but in innocence and light. It began here, now, at this place, with this conference of learned men.
The theremin stops.
SCOTT: The end of my career in Hollywood began, not in terror and darkness, but in 1957. I was planning to direct my first motion picture, and I wanted it to be a good one. I’d been looking through a lot of scri
Wooby Paul Briggs
PHIL, a highly literate man of indeterminate age
JEAN, a highly literate woman of indeterminate age
An apartment. Early evening.
PHIL is sitting at a desk reading a book and looking irritated. JEAN enters, much more cheerful, whistling "Funiculí Funiculá."
PHIL: Would you please stop whistling that "cubiculo" song? I'm trying to read this stupid woo book.
JEAN: Stupid what book?
PHIL: Woo. A pejorative term for the more unorthodox forms of alternative medicine. I'm expected to deliver a fair and unbiased review.
JEAN: How's that coming?
PHIL: Here's how you're supposed to treat a hangnail: (reading book) "In a room with good ventilation, using a mahogany-handled, monkey-hair brush…" (shouting into the book) How can I even afford that, you preening narcissist?
JEAN: I'm sensing a certain amount of animosity here.
PHIL: Well, to be fair, they do say the handle doesn't have to be mahogany, as
Problems Worse than Mine (1140 words)by Paul Briggs
I first met Halley the first week I started working as a bouncer, not long after I moved to the L.A. area.
We didn’t really have a chance to talk, though. Being a bouncer is not a job I’d recommend for anybody who enjoys mingling and socializing. It’s like being a lifeguard, only more so. You can’t get distracted, and you can’t get too friendly with anybody in case you have to show them the door later.
So you’re always at the party, but not really in the party. You’re always a little bit removed from the action. Even more so if you’re the bouncer at a lesbian nightclub and you yourself are not a lesbian. Of course, when something goes wrong or there’s a fight, then everybody will be looking at you and expecting you to deal with it. In other words, it was just like my life, only I was getting paid for it.
Even so, I made sure to dress the part. Black turtleneck, black slacks, black shoes and socks, and my work gloves &
Christmas in Green Bay (1060 words)by Paul Briggs
It wasn’t my plan, after the divorce, to make a habit of spending Thanksgiving with Mom and Christmas with Dad, but it sort of turned out that way.
On Thanksgiving, I met Mom’s new boyfriend, Mister Sylvester (I think that might actually have been his last name, not his first). I was very surprised that Mom had even wanted a boyfriend. She’d always given the impression — though I don’t think she ever actually spelled it out in words — that if you had sex with a man, no matter how willingly, he had in some way defeated you. This was probably the wrong message to send to a girl that most men already see as… more woman than they can handle.
Anyway, Mister Sylvester. He was tall (about six feet — that counts as tall, doesn’t it?) and impeccably groomed, with Distinguished Silver hair and perfect teeth. Also he had money, was an opera buff and knew a lot about fine wine. In other words, the polar opposite of my dad. I did