Having the Crime of My Life

After a few beers in the garage I mentioned to Easy and Wes that my ideal job, aside from Human Cannonball, was Underworld Figure.  They were raised on TV, like me, so it made perfect sense to both of them.  Hollywood had educated us so thoroughly on every useful aspect of life that we became worldly beyond our years before hitting puberty.  Those lessons stay with you through life.

My latest career choice seemed ideal as we pooled our collective knowledge.  The criminal underworld is full of the fast-talkin’, the street-smart, the unshaven, and the misunderstood.  You spend your days hanging out in poorly lit pool halls and old-man bars.  The women are gorgeous and clever, the scores are easy, everybody drinks but nobody gets drunk.  You get a cool nickname like Knuckles, The Greek, or Forty-Four.  Everyone carries a gun, but only three-time losers or chumps who are in over their heads get shot; anybody with common sense hides behind tipped over card tables and open car doors.  The cops are all on the take and the only real heat comes from “those damn Feds” or an outside crew lookin’ to bring either drugs or sex trafficking (you know, the only “bad crimes,” exclusively the trade of psychos, the Yakuza, and the Russian Mob) into your territory. Your leather jacket is a perfect fit and goes with anything in your wardrobe – it has always got a pack of smokes and a roll of bills wrapped with a rubber band in the pocket.  A few bucks can always be spared for the local church or orphanage, and you understand when they don’t want to hear where the dough came from.  There’s a kid with potential down the street who you can take under you wing, but his mom’s a church going lady so she’s gonna’ take some convincing (not leg breaking convincing, buying flowers convincing).   At least one guy at your table is always sitting backwards in his chair and another is cutting an apple with a switchblade.

“That’s it.  Decision made, “ I said.  “I can be unshaven by tomorrow.  We can probably find a pool hall now.”

Easy wants a new nickname and Wes is just about to call his boss to quit, when … enter Action Man.   He grew up in England and therefore did not have the benefit of awesome television (the BBC has like three channels; one for Doctor Who, one for Faulty Towers and Monty Python, and the last one for soccer).  Action, for all his pop culture deficiencies, did grow up obsessed with the only British superhero worth discussing, James Bond.  We revealed to him the new plan.  He was immediately interested, but, true to form, suggested that if we went into the Super-Spy business instead we’d get to travel and regularly wear disguises.

Silence.

“Damn it!  All right boys, the Brit makes a good point. Go get some martinis and your fanciest explosive cufflinks.  We’ve got a decision to make.”

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 26th, 2010 at 10:37 pm.
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My So-Called Zombie Life

• I wrote this Q & A for the November 2009 issue of Geek Monthly, where it was published in a slightly different format as “Ask a Zombie.”

  
  
  

• When I was alive I’d fight a zombie, but never wonder, “How’s this guy spending the rest of his time?” Die and learn I guess.  I will now attempt to answer just a few questions that I’d wish someone had taken the time from stalking and eating to answer for me when I was first [...]

  
  
  

• Question from Megan currently trapped inside the Old Navy in Forest Springs Mall, NJ

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• Question from Candice, hiding upstairs in your house

  “Sssssssssseeeeeeeth?” I know you’re hungry, but try to control your appetite.  There will always be dopes in the world; they’ll practically wander right up to you. I say, stick to gnawing on them, there is no shame in eating the slow or dim witted. The smart ones run really fast!  And good for them! If [...]

  
  
  

• Question from Professor Janice Warburton at Reanimation Laboratories, Gillette, Louisiana

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• Question from Brian seat-belted in the back of a burned out school bus, OH

  “Grrrrrrrrrrawwwww! Mmmmmmmaaa?” Brian, Don’t bother trying to speak to the living.  They don’t get it!  In fact, they won’t get it until some drooling sap takes a bite out of them.  Generally they’re too busy screaming, running the other way, or spouting tough guy sound bites to listen to your rational. I have never gotten [...]

  
  
  

• Question from Colonel Samuel Doyle, stationed where Denver used to be

  “How do I know if I’m dealing with a slow zombie or a fast zombie before I get too close?” Me? I’m a throw back; I walk everywhere.  I mean, I’m already undead, what’s the hurry?  Some of these young guys like to run, mostly because it surprises the hell out of the living.  However, [...]

  
  
  

• Question from Karl, lurking somewhere in the woods

  “Hoo? Glurgggg?  Hooooooooooo?  Hoo? What about animal zombies, you ask?  I can’t tell you how many times newbies ask me this one.  My advice is always the same, if you can actually catch an animal and bite it while resisting the urge to eat the whole thing, more power to you.  Wildlife is both tasty [...]

  
  
  

• Question from “Anonymous,” drinking the last 7-11 Slurpees on freaking Earth in Pawtucket, RI

  “I heard that the government is working on a cure with some big drug companies.  I really hate freakin’ zombies… I wish you’d all die!” Great.  Thanks.  You don’t really get how this works do you?  I know where that 7-11 is by the way.  For the record, there is no cure for zombism.  A [...]

  
  
  

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Staff writers for thedailyjim can be contacted regarding freelance assignments, project consultations, and ego boosts. Your hair looks great, by the way. All content on this page is creator owned unless otherwise noted.

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