A Lame Attempt To Write Action Part 1

This ridiculous scene has action in it. I’m not very good at writing action, as will be no surprise when you read this. But this is meant to be a bit silly (or maybe I’m just saying that):

There they stood, regarding each other with undimmed distaste, open-mouthed and ready. She reached out to him and grabbed his upper left arm, taking a step closer as she did so, her eyes burning now. Just as she was about to speak he struck her jaw, hard, with a closed fist at the end of a propulsive right arm.

She held her face in her hands and said, “What did you do that for?”

Her teeth were all accounted for.

“What do you mean, ‘What did you do that for?’” he replied. And coming closer he took a handful of her blonde hair in his hand and pulled her head towards his mouth so she could better hear him. “I did it to hurt you, you bitch.”

From this range it was easy to plant a headbut squarely in the middle of her forehead, right between the eyes. He saw her surprise as he did it, so he did it again.

“No Gary,” she said, a little plaintively.

“Shut up.”

He turned over the coffee table with his left foot, sending the mahogany relic of happier times skidding across the floor and into the wall next to the TV with a great thud, all the while keeping hold of the hair in his meaty hand. With a great effort of physical force he yanked at her hair down toward the floor, sending her nose-first into the thick cream carpet, which promptly began to stain with red.

“I didn’t mean those things I said,” she said. Her voice was indistinct now, soft and frightened, as if she were mumbling to herself somehow, yet wanted him to hear.

The TV was light, despite being a large home cinema screen, and it came down with spectacular results on the top of her cowering head, sending shards of glass and plastic scattering all over the room.

“I said shut up, Denise.”

The woman had gone limp, but he wasn’t finished yet.

He began to carefully remove the track pants she was wearing, as he hummed an unmusical little tune to himself. Her underpants were easy to tear off. Still she lay there, motionless.

As he reached for his fly the volume of his humming increased and a malevolent smile spread across his face, and so it was with quite a degree of surprise that Denise turned quickly where she lay, removed the pistol concealed in her Ugg boot, and shot Gary at close range in the genitals.

The screaming got worse as he collapsed. Blood soaked his pants right through in alarmingly quick time.

“Shut up Gary,” she said.

Published in: on August 19, 2015 at 8:28 pm  Leave a Comment  

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