Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27905100-20170321143754

Welp.

It's me again.

Long time no see, everyone.

I haven't been super active lately (tends to happen when I'm writing) but I wanted your opinion on this story I started a little while ago. This isn't finished, and it's not yet to the spoopy part, but I was wondering if I should keep going or not with it.

Thanks.

I have a friend. For simplicity’s sake, let’s say his name was ‘Monty’. So, Monty runs a show. It’s a Bear Grylls adventure-survival type of deal, where he goes around into some remote woods looking for god-knows-what. He and I have known each other since grade school, which is why it was no surprise when he sat me down for coffee one day, and asked me if I’d like to come on his show for a little ‘test run’ of a partnership. His producers, apparently, said that the show’s ratings were dropping, and said a partner in the hunting might be a much-needed boost to his show’s approval. I had some questions, of course, but in the end, he convinced me that it would be a good idea to do it, so I did.

I woke up to my alarm clock screeching at me, each blare a reminder of the job I’d accepted. I groggily picked myself off of my pillows, and heaved my eyes open, only to be greeted by total darkness. I groaned, before slowly pulling my covers off me, and getting out of the bed. I stumbled my way across my room, no light to guide me save for the garish, blocky numbers of the alarm clock. I heaved a sigh, before lazily shuffling my way into the apartment’s kitchen, the floor groaning under my weight. I flicked on the light, the sharp buzzing startling me, knocking me off me feet, before scrabbling on the hardwood floor to regain my balance. I squinted in the sudden light, before preparing myself a breakfast, and going off on my way to Monty’s.

Getting to Monty’s, I stepped out of my car to meet a bright and energetic fellow, in contrast to my dreary-eyed sleepyness. I eyed him incredulously, wondering about how he could be so fresh before five in the morning. He walked down his driveway with a spring in his step, before grasping my hand with a firm grip, and giving me a friendly pat on my shoulder. He smiled, and I did back, before walking me out to his car, and giving me a little briefing.

“Thanks so much for taking this job. I owe you one,” he said, smiling all the while.

“Don’t worry. I’m getting paid for this, right?” I asked, a small grin forming. He chuckled.

“Of course, but that’ll be a matter for after the hunt,” he said, still smiling, before opening the door to his car, and making a gesture for me to step inside.

As soon as I stepped in, a strong stench of… something invaded my nose, making me gag.

“The smell takes a bit of getting used to,” Monty said, laughing at my obvious disgust. “Don’t know what caused it, but people make the best faces when they come inside.”

I grimaced, still getting used the the odor. Other than that, it was a nice car, with cleaner seats than I could say mine had, and a nice sound system. I set turned on the volume, and found Sweet Caroline to be on. Monty gave a laugh, and I started singing along, my voice ‘’just’’ missing each note.

Sweet Caroline, Buh-buh-buh, good times never seemed so good…

I can’t deny, Buh-Buh-Buh, I believed they never co-o-ould…

Monty joined in, his rich voice making up for my own shakiness. He had wanted to be a singer growing up, and it still showed, even though it had been more than a decade since his last voice lesson. We sang until we reached an old lot, smattered with vans full of equipment, and in some places, people.

I opened his door with an audible chunk, and stepped out onto boiling-hot concrete. I saw a couple of people here and there, but it was obviously a small-budget show. I looked around in strange wonderment at how this all fit together to make his seemingly lonely trips seem so… solitary.

“Monty! How’s it going?” a friendly voice shouted over the crowd. A tall man of about forty, dressed in a casual suit came running up to us. His heavy-set frame moved surprisingly quickly for a man of his size, and I flinched as he came towards us, worried he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“I assume this is your partner in crime,” he said, his booming voice creating a ringing in my ears. I grimaced, and cupped a hand over one to try and quell the volume. Monty just laughed, seemingly used to this man by now.

“Nice to meet you…” he said, his voice trailing off as he realised he didn’t know my name. He tried to catch Monty’s eye, a look of sheepish desperation on his face.

“Richard,” I said, trying to save him any more embarrassment.

“Ah! Richard, of course! Pleasure to meet you, Rick,” he said, outstretching a clammy hand. I grasped it, and was met with a firm, cold shake.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” I replied.

“Perfect! So, Rick, we’ll be loading into the vans in about fifteen minutes. I’ll get a guide to give you a debrief before then, and we’ll be off! Melanie!”

“Yes, sir,” a voice said. I looked over to see a short woman walking slowly towards us, a forced smile on her face. “I tell this man about the trip?” she said, a thick asian accent blanketing her words.

“Yep. Thanks, Mel,” the man said, before walking off to a group holding some cameras. Melanie gave a loud sigh, before glaring at me. In a stern voice, rid of all traces of the thick accent, she started to speak.

“Listen, bub. I didn’t come here to talk all about what to do if you scrape your knee. I hate this job, but I need the credits, so do me a favor and make it easier for me, and I’ll do my best to make it easy for you. Kapiche?” She said, staring me down all the while.

“K-kapiche,” I stammered back, shocked at the difference between her personality here and in front of her boss. She seemed to calm down a bit after that, but kept the scowl as she began walking away, before turning and motioning me for her to come in her direction.

She gestured towards a group of people, all holding cameras and boom mics, and other recording equipment. “This is the recording crew,” she said, before marching off to another group.

We carried on like that up until her boss came bounding up to us again like before, shouting at the top of his already loud voice, “Five minutes, everyone! Five minutes!” before turning to Melanie, and telling her something I couldn’t quite hear. She replied with a small “yes, boss,” before jogging off to her next task.

The man came bounding up to me, stopping just short of his momentum bringing us both into a collision. He seemed enthusiastic about this, if nothing else.

“Rick, I need you to load a van with the film crew so they can show you the ropes of this show, okay?” he said, in a somewhat quieter voice than before, though it had lost none of its excitement.

“My name’s Richard,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Sounds good,” I said, trying to hide my contempt for him. His eyes looked hurt for a moment, but his face never left the exuberant smile he always had tacked-on his face. He turned around, his large frame bouncing and rolling as he did so.

“Time to go, everyone! Chop-Chop, we don’t have all day!”

I sighed, before walking off to the car the camera crew seemed to be going in, letting my feet slap the pavement as I did so. The clap-clap-clap of their rubber soles against the rigid ground carried me to the van.

I gingerly stepped out of the van onto the soft, brown earth after a long, bumpy ride. As soon as I did, a strong smell of pine hit me straight in the nose, a welcome contrast to the muggy van I had been trapped in for the past twenty minutes. I stretched, letting out the nausea that had been my companion for the last half of the trip with a sigh. I looked around, and save for the dirt road, this place seemed to be a nature paradise, with lush green plants sprouting all around, and the scent of a fresh rain lingering long after the plants had dried their leaves.

“Rick!” I heard a voice shout behind me, and I turned to see the boss running towards me in full stride, his rolls of fat wobbling like always.

“So, I trust the camera crew told you the ins and outs of being filmed?”

“Something like that,” I say, feigning a smile. He grinned, before taking a deep breath in, and shouting for Melanie. His cry was answered by an out-of-time pitter-patter; Melanie’s high-heels against the dirt.

“Yes, boss?” she said, wearing her false accent like a costume.

“Show this man to the group that’s going into the forest, and then meet me in my van.

So there it is. I hope I didn't post it too early, but I should have the rest up in a few days, so for now, that's what I have.

Thanks. 