The Outcasters: A Society of Short Stories!

By Maestro Drake

Since 1995, I set out as an artist to create
characters who were hideous, strange and did not fit
within the normal boundaries of a modern society.
The Circus Freaks, my 1st creations, are such
examples of de-humanizing humans, placing
them in a world where they are not accepted by the
majority and must push their way uphill to gain
power.
After 15 years of creating many people,
places and things based on the real world, publishing
books, including this one, I came to an epiphany.
Who you are in relation to someone else
depends not on skin color, age, religion, sexual
preference, language, biology, country or planet.
These short stories contain individual
lives of those you are familiar with in one social
category or another as opposed to those of your
neighbor, family member, significant partner, your
enemies, and those unlikely youve never met.
In the end, a world, a galaxy of prosperity
comes with the efforts of all who are related because
they are unrelated and thats exactly what this book
is about.


--Maestro Drake

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467034876

Maestro Drake

Maestro Drake was born in the Spring of 1978. His art dates back as early as the 1990's in the form of rough pencil sketches crudely drawn on old, fanfold, printing paper. Through high school, Jr. College and University years, his work evolved from colored pencil designs into marker mediums. Up until 2007, Maestro practiced his writing skills on notebooks, writing outlines for plots with comic strips. After the debut of his original book, “The Outcasters: Drake” his characters were firmly established as his original creations with the “O” Universe yet to be fully revised. After 2010, Maestro's illustrations evolved to visually crafting characters and likenesses using a technique dubbed, “Maestro-shapes” to build, people, places and things with a new approach to appeal to all ages. “The Outcasters: A Society of Short Stories!” is a reboot of The “O” Universe as one world of diverse people separated by circumstances of genre.

Book preview

The Outcasters

A Society of Short Stories!

Maestro Drake

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2011 by Maestro Drake. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of my imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to known people, places or actual events are pure coincidence.

First published by AuthorHouse 11/16/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3488-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3489-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3487-6 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011917109

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Dedications

Introduction

STORY TITLE!

1st Movement

The Boy with No Face

To Form a Deity

Rainbow Haven!

Harmony Silenced!

2nd Movement

The Clown and the Witch

Family Food

House of Cards

Divorce Settlement

The King of England

3rd Movement

Drake & Missy

Friends of Mine

The Firefly and the Wasp!

Together in the Rain

The Outcasters

4th Movement

Sparx

Ash-Kan

Spit-Mutt

Three of Allegiance

Failed Experiments

The Last Stand

5th Movement

The Leader

The Intellect

The Fool

The Firecracker

The Golem

The East L.A. Council

Alien Pawns

Angels of Light!

6th Movement

ALFREDO GOMEZ

Valiant!

FRANCISCO VILLANUEVA

PABLO MONTENEGRO

GINA CONVINZIONE

VENGA-BOT!

7th Movement

Glass Sanctuary

Sins of Siblings

Freak N’ Stein

Peek-A-Boo

Roman Soldier

July Independence

AFTERWARD!

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Dedications

The Outcasters is dedicated to every child and teenager in the world and in neighboring galaxies. When writing this book, I always remind myself that despite our beliefs, race, sexual preference, religion, political party, language and rituals, children always see each other as EQUALS. Never think that because of your skin color or where you live or what family you were brought up in that you are a loser. You are not. All you need is someone who believes in you.

Each and every one of us is not alone in the universe. Whether on this planet or the next, there is a family, a group, a culture, a society, a city, a country based on who we are, what we look like, and what we represent. Finding ourselves in others is true paradise!

Introduction

What you hold in your hand is a series of short stories that took me years to put together. I wanted to make this book accessible to every reader, especially to those who do not care to read anything, including web pages.

This book is not like most books in which you do not have to read from beginning to end. You can read whichever stories you want, whichever Movements you want. You can go through the table of contents and read from any point you wish. Left to right. Right to left. Upside down. Makes no difference to me.

I originally wanted to present The Outcasters or The O Universe as one book of over 1,000 pages of material but I can’t. You are reading Volume 1 while the second volume completes the entire series.

Originally, I wanted to present alternate versions of all the protagonists in different genres… different universes in each book so having two books for one universe will make things a little uneven.

All these stories have many people, places and things in common, both fiction and non-fiction. The more stories you read is the equivalent of putting together jigsaw pieces to make one beautiful picture. In the case of this first book, you will only get HALF the picture while the other half is in the second volume.

When you read all 78 stories in both volumes you will completely understand everything. You will understand the caption on the back of this book and the next. You will understand all the protagonists and their roles in life. You will also understand what YOU have to do with any of this, despite that it is only a work of fiction.

The Outcasters will never age. They will never be outdated. They will never be replaced by cooler things, ideas, new political groups or technology and they will never be frowned upon by younger generations.

How to read this book… .

STORY TITLE!

Everything that goes into a paragraph for every story you see is mostly narration by me. I tell the story of a character, what he, she or it does in the present tense and what the outcome will be. The stories move very, very, very, very fast so read carefully. Also, when there is narration in the paragraph and an action is done by the character or characters…

There is a moment of pause… .

Then, the action… .

If the character wishes to speak… .

Character: Hello

Character 2: Hello.

Character: (looking at his watch) How are you?

Character 2: (Checking her cell phone) Fine and you?

Yes, that’s right. This is like a script. Not exactly a television script but maybe one, like Shakespeare, with some foreign dialogue included in certain stories. I warn you. I am not other authors. I write this way because I notice most of you don’t care to read!

Oh… and by the way, certain dialogue will be in foreign languages. I will not translate the phrases in respect to the exact nature of the culture and country the language came from. I do not wish to disrespect foreign readers by twisting what they say to American standards. However, YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW JAPANESE OR SPANISH, for example, TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY!

To know the whole story requires tolerance on your part.

Thank you for understanding. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

1st Movement

Rainbow Harmony

The Boy with No Face

October 31, 1966: Clown of the future. Royal Brompton Hospital, one of the smallest but finest facilities located along Sydney Street in the quaint yet active streets of London SW3 in the United Kingdom, full of restaurants fancy and stale. A 49 London bus makes its way to the Hospital’s emergency center as two people, gent and a lady, rush to nurses to deliver a baby. Hours pass and the baby born but the doctor who delivers it feels a sense of shame and remorse. The father looks onward but turns away. The mother asks to hold the baby. With little reluctance, the nurse does as asked as she hands him over. The mother holds the baby snug in her arms. She sees the horror, the mistake. Her baby is born with skin blotches all over his face, resembling a railroad map with albino hair. Nevertheless, Roth Notoreum is born.

To understand the coming of the son, the parents must be understood first. Late February 1964, a tall, fancy yet slightly disheveled gent strolls over to The Windmill Nightclub, a popular strip club along 17-19 Great Windmill Street. Inside, he looks all around the red lights, drunken fellers fat and old with very skinny foreign dames on their laps, letting the old farts slip colorful 5 pound notes down their firm tops. Damon Notoreum draws his attention towards the stage, past a couple of broken wine glasses, bright copper surfaces along the outer edges with mirrors on the walls. Coming down a spiral staircase from the ceiling is a tall, white, British beauty with shoulder length blonde hair and baby blue eyes. She wears a bikini, tackily decorated with shiny yellow sequins. The lady prances and skips around the stage, hoping to catch the eye of a wine businessman or a politician.

She struts her stuff over to a copper pole and swings around it, clockwise, kicking her legs back, forth and up in the air. Afterwards, she bends down and bounces her arse up and down for the whole world to see, that is, if they could see inside a dimly lit room with a crowd of only 200 to spare.

Damon: YEEEAAAAAHH, BABY, ‘ATS DA WAY TO SHOOOW DADDY! C’MON THEN!

Damon claps his hands in joy. Ember Soudek, the lady in question, looks over her shoulder as she was facing the mirrors, away from the crowd.

A few moments later, Damon and Ember get better acquainted as she lets this tall and fancy gent get ever closer to her.

Ember: So how much more money you got, Pater?

Damon: Reach deep into my pockets love and you can find out.

He winks at her.

Ember: Ooh, you nasty boy.

Damon: Well, I can be even nastier given the chance.

Ember: Ha…

Ember looks at Damon with disdain as she sips her ginger ale.

Ember: I don’t do that sort of thing, not even for all the Queen’s jewels.

Damon gently puts his hand on hers.

Damon: Alright, then, fair enough. Fancy you and me on a date?

Ember: A date? Where?

Damon: Anywhere you want, love.

Ember: Hm… sorry, not interested.

Damon quickly grabs her by the wrist as she is about to leave.

Damon: Wait a moment, please. I promise my offer is clean and promises you the future!

Ember slowly looks back to Damon, giving him a face of confusion before giving him a little smile, as though comforted by his sweet, deep voice and poetic words.

Ember: Alright, you got five minutes… . love. So tell me what’s so important?!?

Damon tells Ember about Great Britain and the poor economy and ghastly government structure; about how inflation is on the rise, how Parliament does not do its share in giving back the money to the taxpayers. It’s only a matter of time before millions of poor saps who are on the job will be laid off. Soon, people will be homeless and the pound will be nothing but toilet paper, all because of arrogance on behalf of Great Britain. He says he has a plan that will change everything, the way people see the Parliament and the Prime Minister’s actions as footnotes compared to the movement he will set forth. The conversation lasts 20 minutes.

Ember: Well, you talk a good talk, Pater, but… ha… I have to be going.

Damon tries to take her right hand once more.

Damon: So I gather then you will not take me on my offer?

Ember: Oh… . .

Ember leans over to kiss Damon, lips to lips, eyes close, lost in the sensual moment as she slips a napkin from her left hand, reaching deep into Damon’s right pocket, feeling for his special jewels as a bonus.

Ember: I didn’t say that.

She winks back at him as Damon carefully pulls out the napkin while Ember returns to the stage to entertain more gents. He smiles bright, seeing her 020 area code along with a phone number written on it.

Flashing forward to 1966, Damon and Ember are now proud parents, despite Roth’s deformities. Living in an apartment somewhere in Chelsea, the couple would raise the little boy to the best of their ability. One day in 1970, the doctor tells Damon and Ember their son has growth issues and will lose the ability to grow past age 7. Heartbreaking. Madness. Damon wonders what went wrong. He and Ember exchange a little banter in the hallway of their apartment while Roth is asleep in another room.

Ember: Well, it’s not my fault, dammit!

Damon: Ah didn’t bloody say it was, woman. I just… I don’t know.

Ember: Look, I smoked and I drank and so did you. We were both a couple of berks, but what the fuck are we supposed to do?!?

Damon: That kid’s going to be scarred for the rest of his bleedin’ miserable life.

Ember stomps closer to Damon, getting in his face, pointing back at Roth’s room.

Ember: He’s already scarred, you twit.

Damon, angry at himself, shakes his head.

Damon: Well… . well then, maybe it’s time I did somethin’ about it.

That time is March 19, 1971. The Old Curiosity Shop in London has a variety of products from antiquities to modern appliances. Damon searches for something… unique and novel, like a mask.

Outside the store, Ember and Roth wait impatiently for Daddy to come out with his surprise.

Damon: Here y’are!

Ember greets Damon with a quick smile before looking into the bag and finding… . a wooden mask, more like a theatrical mask, made of redwood and oak, with one half of the face being happy, and the other sad, both faces different colors, divided by a thick zig zag line.

Ember: You. Have. Got… . to be shit’n me. A mask? A mask?!? That’s your solution?

Damon: Relax, woman. It’ll work, watch.

To Damon

Damon: Here, now, you want to try it on, don’t you?!?

Roth shrugs his shoulders, too young to care or understand.

Damon: Alright, then, let’s see here… .

Damon puts the mask over Roth’s face, being careful to make sure the mask is not too heavy but fits just right.

Damon: Ha, there you go!

Damon stands up and takes a step back to look at little Roth Notoreum, a child with no face but a mask.

Ember: That is so stupid!

Damon: No it isn’t.

Ember: I say it is.

Damon: Roth m’boy, you don’t think that mask looks stupid on you, does it?

Roth shrugs his shoulders again.

Damon: There, you see?!?

Ember: Damon, he’s too little to understand just take that off.

Damon: No, way it’s…

Ember: It’s stupid…

Damon tries to push Ember away when a passerby, an elderly woman, points to Roth.

Elderly Woman: Oh, how cute the little fellow is. Hello, little clown, ho, ho, ho!

Roth forces a wave to the tall old lady but feels very awkward looking up at anyone.

Damon: There, now, you see?

Ember: One of these days, that’s gonna come back to bite you in the arse.

Later in 1971, little Roth starts his first day of school in London. Ember eventually wins the argument but compromises for Roth to wear the ghoulish wooden mask at home and face bandages at school. The sight of the poor boy’s face is enough to make anyone barf, let alone the teacher. As Roth steps off the yellow bus and onto the schoolyard, he sees more children giving him dirty looks or at the very least, pointing and laughing at him. It could be worse though as the kids are practically being generous.

Suddenly, a spit wad hurls at Roth’s left ear. He turns to see who threw it, a second grader, a kid, no older than 7 years old from first glance.

2nd Grader: Ha, haaa! Ya little bugger. Why you look like the mummy so?!?

Roth: Hm? I don’t know, it’s my face.

2nd Grader: Aye, what’s wrong with it?!? Is it ugly under there?

Roth: I don’t know, I guess so. My parents say so.

The bell rings for classes to begin.

2nd Grader: Alrite, then! Here’s some more tissues to wrap y’face, but I warn you, I might’ve wiped my arse wit’ it. Hahahahahahahahaaaaa!

The little bugger runs off leaving Roth confused and slightly upset, staring down at dirty tissues and spit wads.

It will be a long school year!

To Form a Deity

Sept. 7, 1973: Five of diamonds. The London Hippodrome along 1 Cranbourn Street in the United Kingdom, is somewhat filled up on a lousy Sunday night with Amateur Hour as British folk, teens and old, gather to sit along the rows of red felt seats to watch a performance on the Mezzanine. The performers, hastily called, Rainbow Harmony sing their brains out with hearts to spare.

On the drums sits an African bloke, Yassir, tall as a doorway and fat as a sumo. His hair is of a huge Afro, a giant orange styling comb, fat sideburns and a thick mustache. His costume: a thick, custard yellow, denim vest and bell bottoms with crudely shaped shiny plastic flames of brown and red on the bottom of them.

Playing the keyboard is Tarrant, a White, lanky, tall and average man, with a pointy bald head and black goatee. He sports a top hat, a sleeveless shirt of shredded cow suede dyed in purple, from the neck to the waist, with spiked dog collars to the shoulders and black leather long arm bands that cut off at the fingers.

Slammin’ the tambourine is Iggy, a white handed gibbon with a monkey tail, white crazy fur, and dressed in a lime green, Asian style, sleeveless vest with black buttons and triangular shoulder pads. Iggy howls to the rhythm of the music.

Iggy: OHHH WHHHHOOOOOOOOOOO WOOO WOO WOO!

Damon Notoreum, a tall, white gent with black curly hair, baby blue eyes, square jaw and red motorcycle jacket is the guitarist, playing some really cool and mesmerizing riffs. His wife, Ember, a fairly tall, skinny girl, with boy short blond hair, yellow newsboy hat, cotton coat and white go-go boots, sings a mellow and heartbreaking song that truly reflects the signs of the times.

Ember(singing):

Dy-ing hearts stick to-get-her!

Through the end and for-e-ver

Fight-ing the e-vil to the rain-booooow!

The crowd cheers, clamoring for more, despite only 130 people in attendance. What miracles good music can bring. If only there were more fans but this merry band of five has yet to be trusted. Damon plans to change all that with his run of good luck.

Later, after performances, Rainbow Harmony reunite backstage, smokin’ weed as Damon and Ember’s son, Roth, sleeps quietly in the background.

Damon (puffing away): Blimey, ahhhhh, not bad for our first night, don’t y’think?

Tarrant (puffing): Gaaaaaaaaahhh, I tell ya, 130 buggers out there, we dang lucky they didn’t throw the bottles back at us.

Ember: I just wanted to make sure my singing was tops.

Damon (putting his arm around Ember to comfort her): YES! Yes, dammit, y’done good. Bloody good! I tol’ ya to relax and just let the wacky tabacky do its magic!

Yassir chimes in, placing his big, fat ass on the dressing room sofa.

Yassir: Ah think we put it out there jolly, so who cares what anyone else thinks?

Iggy: WHOOOOOO! OH OOOOOOOOOOH!

Damon/Yassir/Tarrant: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ember: Oh, bother, Damon, pacify his arse before his wailing wakes up Roth.

Damon: *Sigh*Oh, yes, me love, at once!

Damon walks over to his alligator skinned satchel and pulls out a banana for Iggy, tossing it to him.

Damon: Iggy, look alive!

Damon throws the fruit to Iggy but the monkey misses the catch, falling over himself onto the floor:

Iggy: EEEEEP! . . . . THUD!

Damon/Ember/Tarrant/Yassir: HAHAHAHA!

Just then, a knock at the door…

Damon: Come in.

Suddenly, a female stage manager enters.

Manager: There’s someone on the phone for you, a record company? They want to see if they can work out a deal with you. They love the music!

The others gasp in awe.

Damon: Well let’s take this outside, love. I am sure we’ll figure out somethin’, right?

Damon walks away with the cute manager, his arm around her, as he looks back at Ember and the others with a wink and a smile.

Ember: He is such a bloomin’ idiot at times.

Yassir: Yeah, but what can you do, we lucky to be alive for this long so he knows what he’s doin’.

Ember: I just hate when he eyes other women, I think he does it on purpose to get me riled up and it makes me sick to my stomach.

Tarrant: Y’gotta chill out and let the man do his magic… . or whatever he does wit’ his fingers.

Ember: As long as those fingers aren’t up her purse, he gets to keep them… . . . .do you really think he’s serious about this?

Tarrant: Hmm? About what? The movement?

Ember: Yeah, the whole making peace and getting parliament to change its ways?

Tarrant: Doll, we’re in a bad fix here. The pound is getting’ pissed by the dollar every day as we speak. We can barely get a damn job anymore because so many factories are closin’ down here. Everything Damon predicted is happenin’ whether we liked it or loved it.

Yassir: Ah hate washin’ windows, mate. Ah mean, this is mah job now, washin’ windows fer a bunch a snobs up n’ down the Burlington Arcade n’ fer what, a measly 5 pounds an’ hour? Possibility of getting fired on the spot because ye boss is tired of you? Not bloody likely, thank you very much.

Tarrant: Remember Ember, I’m gay. I’m a bloody closet homosexual because those yanks out west had to make it a fuckin’ conspiracy that all gays had AIDS. Are you kiddin’ me?

Ember: *Sigh* I guess you’re right. How can I doubt my love when we’ve gone this far and I want that nice cottage in the grassy plains with the white picket fence and birds singing above us. I really want that, just like the fairy tales.

Tarrant: Patience and trust, ye can only reap what you sow.

As time rolls on the Rainbow Harmony find themselves slowly gathering fame from their music. Damon formulates a plan to use their fame to call for a public meeting at Wandsworth Common Park.

Meanwhile, while plans are underway for this meeting, on December 2, 1973, Tarrant is home at his apartment in London SW2. There, he meets up with his roommate who he’s been going steady with for a few months, Gilbert Baker, a former military officer from the U.S. making a life here. The two are very different as Gilbert is a man of conservation, who believes in civil rights as Tarrant does but with a sense of proper moral judgment and peaceful means while Tarrant believes violence and intimidation is the only way ignorant bastards will listen.

On this day, Tarrant pressures Gilbert to come out along with him and march down Caranby Street to exonerate the gay and lesbian community from lies and half-truths. Gilbert declines, saying he is not yet ready. After a period of tension between them, Tarrant asks Gilbert to help him design a flag as a symbol of change for his Rainbow Harmony.

Gilbert nods in agreement, smiling back at him before going right to work on it, designing the banner on paper to be in the shape of a giant star with a silver peace sign shield in the center.

December 10, 1973. Rainbow Harmony comes out at Wandworth Common Park to address a crowd of three hundred who anxiously await what intelligent things they possibly have to say outside of singing lyrics.

Damon: My fellow Brits, we come before you today to address a real problem here. The problem is nobody gives a fuck. No one cares. The government is laying so many of you off, leaving you to welfare, to figure out how best care for your children. As you know, my wife, Ember and I, we have a little boy, Roth, who is now in the 2nd grade and we don’t know how much longer we can keep him in school.

(Whispers to Roth hiding behind them) Come on out here, Roth.

Little Roth Notoreum walks up to the front of the stage in the center of the crowd, facing the people with his parents, Iggy, Yassir and Tarrant staying right behind him but silently. The crowd reacts in shock and awe.

Damon: We know you are struggling through the bills and no one in Parliament cares. Does anyone care? The Queen? Well, we dare not go too far here, but, someone is to be held accountable and by God, Queen and Country, things will be set right here and WE will set them right for you.

Crowd gives a mild applause

Damon: We will comfort you in your beds, we will heat your stoves, we will cool your foreheads, because we’re giving LIFE back to the people not just the music.

Crowd gives a louder applause, giving out cries.

Damon: I am going to start a movement. We are going to fight this bloody economy with every bone, every fiber, every vein, every blood cell of my being lest I fall by the hands of politicians who want to keep you poor and stupid for the rest of your lives.

As in a chorus, the crowd of teenagers and college kids cheer with uproars of excitement as Damon pulls out a sack like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

Damon: YEAH, YOU LIKE THAT DO YA? WELL, TO HELP US START ON THIS GREAT PIONEER TO THE FUTURE. I AM GOING TO GIVE Y’ALL SOME MONEY TO START NEW LIVES. GO ON TAKE IT! TAKE IT!

Damon opens up the sack and tosses the colorful piles of paper money up in the air like confetti. Tarrant and Yassir are ready to go with their own sacks of pounds waiting to be thrown out to the public. Suddenly, as if in unison, the crowd steps over one another as though a riot broke out and it’s every man for himself… or woman for herself.

Damon: TAKE IT! TAKE IT! TAKE IT! TAKE IT ALLLL!!!! YEAH-HAAAAH!

Iggy gives out money to the children as they howl and yell at him, egging him on to do tricks or a little dance. The only thing Iggy feels like doing is dancing and prancing in circles while yelling out:

WOOOOO WOO WOO WOO!

Amidst the craziness of hundreds of people tearing each other to grab every last pound before it falls to the ground, Roth tugs at his mommy to ask her a question.

Roth: Mater, where did daddy get all that money?

Ember: That’s what I’d like to know, myself.

Roth: M-maybe he saved it all up and put it under his mattress.

Ember: Ha! Not bloody likely.

Suddenly, constables come about, some on horses and others on foot, rushing to untangle the insanity. One officer on a bullhorn yells out:

Officer: PEOPLE… GENTLEMAN, LADIES, DISPERSE NOW! EVERYONE… . THE LOT OF YOU, LEAVE THE AREA NOW OR THE TEAR GAS COMMENCES… .

Most people start to evacuate as ordered while some are belligerent and want to take what’s rightfully theirs, yelling out, You don’t own me. Or, This is our just rewards.

The officers, persistent to keeping their word, throw down tear gas canisters. One by one people fall victim to the gas, crying out in terror and pain.

Damon, Yassir and Tarrant try to keep their heads down and covered while Iggy screams in agony. Ember covers her face with her canary yellow coat while shielding her little boy in it.

Ember: *Cough* *Cough* *Cough* What the fuck is the matter with these bastards? Don’t they care children are present?

The constables break through the gas with masks and horses on as one calls out, pointing with his cudgel.

Officer: Cuff them!

Rainbow Harmony is taken to jail. Iggy is kept in a cage while little Roth is taken to his grandmother’s, Ember’s mother’s, house.

At the Metropolitan Police station in South Kensington, Damon, Ember, Tarrant and Yassir sit in a cell to contemplate their recent actions.

Ember: Love…

Damon: Hm?

Ember: Where DID you get that money? You told me once before you saved it up from work.

Damon: That is true… . in a way.

Ember: In a way?!?

Damon: All details in good time, my love. Let’s not ruin an already spoiled evening, hm?

Moments later, a guard comes up with a package.

Guard: Mister Notoreum… . .package here for you.

Damon walks up to the guard to take the package and sits back down. The package is flat and wafer thin but he opens it carefully and sees what’s inside… . .a letter?!?

Dear Mr. Damon,

My name is Anthony. I am but 9 years of age. I don’t know much but I like what you say about government and politics and money beings ours and all that stuff. I think we should not suffer like dogs anymore. Things should change. I have not much money but here is sum change I have in my bed. Also, I made a drawring abut a world full of happy and good times and no more bad things. I call it Day Dream Land. Ha ha ha. Get it? Because we day dream of happy stuff.

Sincererly,

Anthony

Damon looks to the drawing filled with wonderful colors, crayon scribbles and construction paper shapes. He smiles so brightly at what the boy has made that it gives him an idea to make such a land he could share with his own boy.

Damon: Beautiful… . absolutely BEAUTIFUL!

Rainbow Haven!

March 16, 1974: A harmony of disillusion. Using one of the large, metallic, hollow studios of Elstree in the A5 section of London, the Notoreum family occupies space for the site of a new and wonderful land called, Rainbow Haven. Inside is such a utopia, full of dreams and magic and… more dreams. Looking through a certain book written by Roald Dahl about chocolates and factories, Damon Notoreum, a musician and civil rights activist, pays good money to have his dreamland built.

Trees filled with jelly beans, bushes laced with chocolate tobacco, a tiny river filled with peaches, lemon and sugar. The grass that fills most of the floor of the studios is in reality, carefully shredded mint leaves while giant ceiling fans with a tropical theme have wide paddles made of redwood, Brazilian rosewood, Sitka Spruce and Mahogany fibers, giving the room a musical aura as marijuana fumes secrete from the holes of the fan bases.

Damon Notoreum is enjoying the fruits, literally and figuratively, of his labor. He sits on a vibrating, black leather, bean bag chair while sitting underneath one of the fans, listening to the wails of the paddles and getting high. Only certain friends can come to this luxurious paradise… . which of course must be paid for by the monthly rent lest it all gets thrown out and becomes just another movie set.

As he sips his tropical flavored cola, one he patented himself and is making some decent cash off of, his wife Ember walks up to him.

Ember: Love?

Damon: Hm?

Ember: Tarrant and Yassir are here.

Damon: Lovely, bring ’em inside. I can’t trust nobody with the key to this place y’know? Too much here to lose.

Ember: *Sigh*

Ember exits and comes back with Tarrant and Yassir, two of the Notoruem family’s colleagues for a long time. The two bring with them, a friend.

Damon: What’s all this then? You got someone?

Tarrant: Y’told us to bring in only those we can trust and you can trust. This here’s Bradley Juneshire. He’s a musician too and he’s been helping us with our rally for peace and change.

Damon: Fancy that? And so, now (to Bradley) you want to make a difference?

Bradley: Yessir, like I want to go to Oxford and all that, but money’s so damn tight. My parent’s can barely afford groceries, much less, gas to get around towork from day to day to day.

Damon: Mmhmm… . .mm-hmm… . and how old are you now?

Bradley: 16.

Damon: Do y’know at 16, I told my father to go fuck off because I wanted to be a musician?

Bradley: No shit?

Damon: No shit, indeed. Oh sure, we danced and danced until one of us ended up with black eyes and swellings, but, it was worth it because his face was the one on the floor and teeth ended up on my necklace as a trophy.

Bradley: Hahahaha… fancy that?

Damon: Yes. So you want to be here in my little paradise?

Bradley: Yessir.

Damon: Well, y’can be here anytime you like but you can’t have the key, just give me fellers a call, Yassir or Tarrant or even Ember, you just can’t have her.

Bradley: Haha, okay!

Damon: Anytime you like and please, think of me as the dad you never had.

Bradley: Thank you.

Damon: No, thank YOU!

Bradley walks off, merrily skipping around the artificial park, along the rubbery pebble road, taking in the weed fumes, picking off the jelly beans and beef jerky sticks from the trees and the little rivers.

Ember: Speaking of which, where is our son?

Damon: Oh, he’s busy studying.

Tarrant: That’s better than working in oil, I always say.

Yassir: I like my job in security, thank you very much.

Ember: What’s he talking about?

Damon: Hm? Oh, Yassir is a security guard for the Equinox, I think. Is that right?

Yassir: Mmmmm-hm, you get dental benefits at least.

Ember: Not that, the other thing, what Tarrant said.

Tarrant: Oh, I just meant when Damon and I worked in the oil refineries.

Ember: But that was a long time ago when you two were let go from your jobs.

Tarrant: Yeah, that’s what I meant.

Ember: You’re LYING!

Tarrant: No…

Ember: You are so lying. Your right eye jitters a bit when you lie.

Damon: *Sigh*

Ember: What. Are. You not telling me?!?

Damon: Boys, give us a moment.

Tarrant and Yassir walk off to chat in another part of Rainbow Haven while Damon has to break the news.

Damon: Ember, fruitcake, you remember when I got fired because of budget cuts?

Ember: Uh-huuuuuuuh?!?

Damon: Well part of the reason I got fired was there was a rumor that oil had been confiscated from inventory to sell for side profits.

Ember: Yeah, but that just a cover up, wasn’t it? A conspiracy… . ?

Damon gives Ember a smirk and a look of guilt but one of confidence.

Ember: Oh… you asshole!

Ember shoves Damon from his bean bag chair.

Ember: You didn’t?!? . . . . You did! I knew it!

Damon: I had to, sweetheart. I took thousands of dollars from the oil I smuggled so I can start a new life… with YOU.

Ember: You stole. You. Stole.

Damon: Don’t be so high and mighty. You’ve stolen too.

Ember: But that was different. That was from…

Damon: From family?

Damon gets up and stands tall, approaching the delicate Ember from behind, putting his strong arms around her, cheek to cheek.

Ember: You could’ve just invested in stock.

Damon: Doll, I like to do things the EASY way, not some complicated, convoluted mess. The economy affects the stock market too or do you not read the paper? This way, there’s no middle man, no mess to speak of… . alright?

Ember: *Sigh* I need a walk.

Damon: Well, walk around here, meditate.

Ember: I’ll do it outside.

Ember exits the building. Yassir and Tarrant come back to Damon.

Yassir: Well, that was a bit of a bitch, wasn’t it?

Tarrant: My new boyfriend is not so bad, but for some reason, he has this weird fascination with frogs, the lil’ piss offs.

Damon: Well, she’ll get over it. Everyone else does.

Just then, one of the beef jerky trees starts shaking.

Damon: Hm?

Tarrant: What’s that?

Yassir: I bet it’s Iggy.

As sure as Yassir is, little Iggy, the crazy howler gibbon, jumps out of the tree with beef jerky in his teeth and little hands, as he jumps around and around and around, prancing with glee… and a sparks of madness in his eyes.

Tarrant: I say, Damon, what did you put in those meat sticks anyways?

Damon: Oh, L.S.D. and barbecue sauce, you be amazed at the many ways the imagination can feed the thoughtless mind.

Yassir: Yeah, I would.

Iggy dances and dances and dances. The humans around him, the warehouse, Rainbow Haven turns to pitch black and suddenly, comets of colors and light surround him.

Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. The monkey looks all around and whoa, fireworks, not only in the sky, but coming from the ground and the walls. Where’s the sky? Where’s the ground, OOOOHHHH MYYYYY GOOOOOOOD let’s get lost in nothingness.

Where once were rules only la-la-la-la-la-la, where there were street signs and cars, only blurs of flying harmonicas making blaring horns of a million accordions going around in a carousel, deerrrrde doo doo deooo deoo doooooo deedoodeedodedodedodedodedo! Huh? Whuzzat? A giant mouth? AUUUGGGHHHHH! It’s eating meeeeeeeeeeee. Iggy, no, it’s yelling for you, it’s coming forrrr youuuuuuuuuuu!! IGGGGGGYYYYYY… . IIIIIGGGYYYYYYY.

Damon: Iggy? Laddie? Hello?

Damon snaps his fingers at a fallen Iggy, too high for words.

Damon: Bloody hell, I think ah broke him.

Tarrant: That’s what you get.

Moments later, two stained glass doors swing open from what appears to be a stained glass outhouse inside Rainbow Haven. A girl, around 25 years old, model thin, with white skin, raven hair and piercing green eyes, with a D size chest, dressed nicely in a pink, glittery tank top and bell bottom blue jeans. She approaches Damon with an expectation of satisfaction.

Daria: So?

Damon: So? All done then?

Daria: Yessir.

Damon: Gave him the works?

Daria: Front and back.

Damon: And is he sore?

Daria: Sorer than a horny teenager after bangin’ his date on prom night, and her mum.

Damon: Ho hoooo, fancy THAT!

Damon hands Daria, a prostitute, the cash!

Damon: This is it, then, 75 pounds would do it?

Daria: Yeah, it’s usually 100 but it’s the boy’s first time, right, so I’m flexible.

Damon: In more ways than one?

Daria: Ha-ha, riiiiight… . well, I’m off then, see ya!

Damon: Bye!

Daria gives a wink and a smile before walking out of the studio as Damon checks out her arse on the way out.

Damon: That bum of hers could bring any man to his knees.

Young Roth comes out, Damon’s son, now at the age of 8. He approaches his dad with caution but a hint of satisfaction.

Damon: Hey, boy!

Roth: H-hey.

Damon kneels down to the boy to meet him eye to eye.

Damon: How was she?

Roth: Good, I guess?

Damon: Yeah? Did you get to feel her?

Roth: Yeah, I mean, she taught me a lot.

Damon: Good.

Roth: I mean she smelled real good, like peaches, I remember that.

Damon: Well, boy, remember that most women won’t give you what she gave you for FREE. Everything costs money, even if it’s a dinner, a movie or a fancy car.

Roth: Yeah.

Damon: One day, when yours is as big as mine, and you get an education, so many women will flock to you for your gold you won’t know what to do with yourself.

Roth: Yeah, can I go now?

Damon: Sure, sure, oh, and don’t breathe a WORD of this to your mother.

Roth: Ok, then.

As time moves on, Damon invites more people to his little sanctuary. On a Monday, Damon brings in 50 to the Haven for brownies, hamburgers and other goodies loaded with pot. He calls it his, Banquet for the Highest of the High.

On a Tuesday, Yassir and Tarrant manage to get 100 people in for Steroids night. Damon believes that strength and vitality is a gift that should be given, one needle and vial at a time. Damon himself does not take the drug for his own pride that he was born a big burly man.

Wednesday is prostitute night and Thursday is gambling while Friday is a day of rest to just sit and watch movies. People, the outsiders, were given cash and other goodies in exchange for their silence. Word of mouth only as fliers and broadcasts would dare attract the attention of the police.

With his Rainbow Haven growing, Damon knew how much more popular he is becoming. His paradise would out do any Eden, Nirvana, Valhalla, Narnia, anything man could dream of. He could perfect this world given time, money and patience. Nothing can stop him.

If only he could aim a little higher… .

Harmony Silenced!

1976-1978: At the end of the rainbow. In the wake of vast unemployment and inflation of the Pound in Great Britain, the British demand the economy fixed and hell to be paid in full. Though parliament manages to put strict deflation protocols in place for businesses to stop wage increase, the movement in change would be compared to that of a snail. Tensions in the unemployed bring about reasoning and theories as to why they had to be let out of a job. Some deduce it to be racism, while others suggest prejudice among lower classes, causing a massive riot on the streets of Notting Hill. Buildings are burned down, broken glass everywhere and the constables are ill-equipped to quiet the quarrel.

Jan. 1978. Sitting on his gold plated pine cone shaped throne in his Rainbow Haven in a giant warehouse in London, Damon, the leader of a rebel group, concocts a master plan to make so much money to seize the ultimate paradise that his more than faithful followers will have no choice but to share in the wealth.

May 31, 1978. Abbey National Bank in Nelson on Hibson Street, a lovely old model of Victorian architecture, a secret plot is devised to break into the bank and make off with millions of dollars. Damon’s motive is clear, to steal from the rich and give back to the community, though he would prefer to keep most of the loot to himself. In order to make sure the bank can be robbed precisely and with little to no room for error, several steps need to be taken… and a few friends of his to assist along the way.

After a successful interview with the bank manager and a reputable resume, Tarrant, in facial disguise, works as a security guard at 8:30 am, one half hour before opening time, walking along the hallways of the bank to get an idea of where the alarms, vaults, and emergency exits are. For decent security, the bank assigns one guard each to his or her own vault in which they have the proper combination for access.

At 9 am, the bank opens as the general population come inside for business. A tall, slender doll with short red hair, though, it appears to be fake, like a wig, with baby blue eyes, ruby red lips and a pastel yellow business suit, arrives as a proper client waiting for a representative. A male teller, smiling brightly at her with his tongue practically hanging out, gestures his left hand to her, more than happy to help her with all financial needs today. Ember, the lady of the morning, seduces the teller with all her best lines, Oh how does a cute gent like you get so miniscule a job like this then?

At 9:18 am, Yassir arrives with little Roth, Damon’s offspring, in tow, in a 70’s custom fitted Ford Transit Crewbus, complete, with a baby blue paint finish, car phone and shaggy carpet upholstery. The bus is parked on Hibson Street near an alleyway for a perfect escape route.

9:30 am, Ember and the male teller get better acquainted into his private office. During this time, she waits until a convenient moment when the teller leaves for a restroom break while she hacks into his personal Apple II computer, using a customized digital modulator with wires and connectors for downloading digital information through a complex set of terminals.

9:40 am, Tarrant goes to work, opening the vault he is assigned to and going through the lock boxes. The lock pick he uses comes in handy. He manages to get 20 boxes open and finds over 1,000 pounds worth of items before another guard walks in on him, asking too many questions. Without response, with a quick reflex, Tarrant pulls out his Italian Bodeo Model 1889 revolver with a silencer to take out his comrade and lock him in the vault. Tarrant does not worry about getting caught BEFORE the big moment of this heist because he knows Julian, the now deceased guard, is the only one who is supposed to patrol in the direction of this vault.

9:45 am, the teller returns from the restroom to find Ember downloading information. He is shocked and dismayed. Ember, knowing she is caught red handed, gets up from the office chair immediately to confront him.

Teller: W-What’s going on, here?

Ember: Oh, it’s not what you think, baby.

Teller: You’re hacking into my computer.

Ember gets up, wrapping her arms around the teller’s neck, gently caressing his left cheek with her delicate fingernails.

Ember: Shhhhh… . no, baby, no… I just wanted to try out some new software that I bought… . you can keep a secret, right?

Teller: You have to stop, please! I could get fired and… .

Ember strokes his lips, playing around them and fondling them like toys.

Ember: I just need to see if this crazy thing I bought here works because I am so lousy with computers… .

Teller: I-I can try it out for you… whatever that is… let me help you…

Ember moves in closer, her lips to his.

Ember: Awwwwww, you’re so sweet…

Ember kisses the male teller, tongues wagging, heavy breathing, as he moves her hand down his chest, moving towards his crotch. The second he’s caught off guard… .

WHAM!

Ember smothers the teller with a rag and chloroform, knocking him unconscious. She drags him into his desk, tucking him behind the wooden panels and out of plain sight. She is counting on her husband arriving on time so she can get into hostage mode.

10:00 am, Damon arrives in a hooded coat and sunglasses.

10:02 am, Iggy, the howler monkey, rushes in behind Damon and into the bank, looking for an appropriate target.

10:03am, Iggy sees the target, a baby. The mater is too busy going through her purse. Before anyone could warn her as the monkey is too much a distraction, he grabs the baby and runs off into another part of the bank.

Mater: Wha… . ?!? MY BABY!

10:05am, Damon makes his announcement… .

Damon: Hello, hello! . . . . People… .

Impatient, Damon pulls out a Civil War issued Le Mat revolver, and fires one shot into the air…

BANG!

10:06am, Ember storms out into the front lobby to follow the sound of the gunshot.

Ember: Dammit, Damon . . . we agreed, no guns.

10:07am, Two guards walk slowly but surely towards Damon with their semi automatic pistols.

Damon (to the guards): Don’t bother, chaps.

He turns around slowly, revealing sticks of dynamite and a push button.

Damon: There’s no room for escape as I have the exits booby trapped. If you shoot me, I will push this button and blow us all to kingdom come and everywhere else after that. Those pathetic models of yours won’t kill me before I finish the job and I know they jam on you any time you need to reload. Believe me, I know how this stupid bank works. That’s what you get for working part time, boys!

Guard 1: Bloody fuckin’ hell!

Guard 2: Gotta be codding me!

Damon: Now, then. The other guards are also… . preoccupied with sleeping, so they won’t help you, either. All of you, yeah, are gonna go into one of the bank vaults to wait for further instructions. This is very serious but very easy and everyone lives… awright?

Damon stops for a moment . . . a 2 second pause . . . .

Damon: Oh, and for added insurance, in case any one of you try any heroics, I have a walkie-talkie attached to my hip to be heard by my little partner, Iggy, who you may have seen a little while ago. He’s my monkey, a REAL monkey. He’s got a… rather, tiny hostage, so, he will hurt the baby if any one of you tries ANYTHING.

Mater: You bah-stard…

She spits on the floor in Damon’s direction.

Mater: Go to Hell!

Damon: Been there, cupcake, it’s rather boring.

The Bank President slowly walks towards Damon from 50 feet away. Damon looks in his direction.

Damon: YESSIR, WHAT CAN AH DO FER YOU?!?

President: You know you’re not going to get away with this.

Damon: The bluebottles are too slow and dumb to realize what’s going here, yeah? And even if they did…

10:10am, suddenly, as if summoned by the Wrath of God, the police arrive to the scene on time.

Damon reacts to sirens approaching the bank…

Damon: Oh, blimey, that wasn’t in the script, was it?

Police (on bullhorn): DAMON, WE KNOW YOU’RE THERE. WE GOT THE TIP OFF. WE KNOW WHAT YOU’RE PLANNING. COME ON OUT QUIETLY.

Damon shakes off the hood and sunglasses, revealing his true face to the public.

Damon: Ah wouldn’t bother comin’ if I were you, yeah? There are sen—

Police: WE HAVE THE BOMB SQUAD ALREADY ON THOSE SENSOR MINES YOU HAVE OUTSIDE THE BANK. YOU THINK WE’RE STUPID?

Damon: Oh, hardly!

Ember shakes her head slightly, with fear and concern.

Ember: Damon, what in fuck did you do?!?

Police: DAMON, WE DON’T WANT YOU BLOWIN’ UP THE PLACE BEFORE WE COME IN SO WE…

Damon: Ay! Ay! Listen, yeah? Why don’t just two or three of you come in, sloooowly, and we’ll all have a nice lil’ chat but no guns, yeah?

Police: YOU KNOW WE CAN’T TOSS OUR GUNS…

Damon: Then keep them pointed down, no point in scaring off children in here, yeah?

10:14am, Meanwhile, Ember takes advantage of this time to quickly use her two way radio with a custom fitted earpiece to contact Tarrant.

Ember: Tarrant . . . . TARRANT, are you there?

Tarrant: Here, love, ya needn’t worry nothing about a mouse in the pantry. I found some booty I think you’ll like, some jewelry…

Ember: There’s no time for that. We’ve been found out . . .

Tarrant: What?

Ember: We’ve been found out! Get your arse outta there now before the police cover the back. Yassir should still be outside.

Tarrant: Got it!

Tarrant quickly grabs whatever gold, jewels or any rare currency he can find and runs out the vault, into the hallway and out towards the back door.

10:15 am, he opens the door… .

If only he had remembered the sensor mine planned before time.

Tarrant: No… shit…

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The wild explosion sends vibrations throughout parts of London as Damon, his wife Ember and other crooks wonder what happened.

The police wonder too, as they approach the scene of the accident. Tarrant is dead, and his remains leave not a pretty sight. Several feet away, they see Yassir, Roth and the Crewbus nearby. One of the officers recognizes him.

Officer 1: HEY!

Officer 2: What happened?

Officer 1: Over there. I know that man and that boy. That’s no coincidence.

10:17am, The two policeman rush over to the bus and have their guns slowly pointed towards Yassir in the driver’s seat.

Yassir looks over to his side mirror seeing the first officer with a gun to him.

Officer 1: Yassir Goliape? Don’t be stupid. Don’t you drive off. Y’stay right where you are. The last thing you need is to do is endanger this child back there. (pointing to Roth in the back seat)

Yassir: Y’right, mate. I shall do nothing of the kind and I will get out slowly, alrite?

Officer 1: Fancy you better.

10:20am, Yassir gets out of the bus, slowly as he promised, slams it shut, then, with an almost cat like reflex, throws his left elbow in the first officer’s face, knocking him to the ground.

He quickly bolts but not fast enough. He is as big as an elephant after all. The second officer shoots Yassir in the ribs and he goes down… HARD!

Yassir: Ooof… !

The second officer has his gun pointed to him.

Officer 2: Don’t you dare move or you’re dead, sir.

Yassir: *Sigh!*

Suddenly, when the second officer is not looking, Roth, in great fear, escapes out the passenger side, heading towards the bank through the back door. The second officer yells back for him but can do more except watch Yassir.

Officer 2: Hey… . HEY… WAIT… gahd-dammit!

10:22 am, Yassir is taken into custody.

10:23 am, meanwhile, inside the bank, Iggy has the baby inside a dark office room while Joseph and Michael, two other guards, are at the scene, trying to negotiate with the monkey.

Joseph (to Iggy): C’mon little fella… c’mon… c’mon then.

Michael: Joe, he’s too defiant. He’s got his finger around the pin of the grenade. If we get any closer…

Joseph: Yes, yes, I know, boom! *Sigh* dammit I hate this. Monkeys are unpredictable lil’ buggers.

Iggy: AUURGGGH!

Michael: Careful, mate, don’t piss off him off. It’s the baby we need.

Joseph: Wonderful, a whole bank for a baby.

10:25 am, still trying to negotiate with Damon, Vernon and Ishmael, the two officers are determined to get him to give up and come along quietly with no mess.

Vernon: Damon, we don’t want to harm you. Please remove the dynamite and we can talk more.

Damon: Ahm not stu-pid. I’ve got you right where I want you.

In fact… . (to Ember) doll, could you come out here?

Damon points the gun towards Ember with his right hand, left hand near the button to the dynamite, gesturing her to come out. She slowly approaches Damon with now a shade disdain and disgust.

10:27am, suddenly, out of nowhere, little Roth runs into the bank lobby, towards Ember, his mother.

Roth: MATER… MATER!

Ember quickly turns to see her son, only 12 years old, come to her.

Ember: Oh my God, Roth, no!

Roth runs into her arms for a quick embrace.

Damon: Oh, bloody hell… . oh well. Roth, m’boy, please look up, because this is very important…

Damon quickly points the gun with a hard jolt of his right arm towards his wife and son.

Ember: Oh my God, Damon, have you lost your marbles, put that gun down!

Damon: No, I don’t think so. I rather believe I’m making a good point here.

Ember: That you’re going to kill your family in front of all these people?

Damon gives her a 2 second pause.

Damon: You’ll see.

10:30am, Michael and Joseph wait with little impatience for Iggy to make a wrong move, his little finger still in the pin of the grenade.

Joseph (whispering to Michael): I hate this, man. Can we not do something?

Michael: Patience. He’s one little man and the two of us, eh? We have to coax him somehow.

Joseph: Let’s just do what I said before and get him a banana.

Michael: And I told you NO! No sudden moves. We do not want to do anything to risk him pulling that pin and killing the lot of us.

Joseph: So you suggest we wait here until help arrives, if ever, y’know, after they let that maniac out there in the lobby open fire and blow us up anyway?

Michael: Exactly!

Unseen by Iggy, the baby, who is almost a year old, is a very curious one. He sees the furry little thing next to him. Curious as to the creature and his reason for being, the baby smiles with glee, reaching his little hands out to touch the grenade that Iggy holds dear to him.

Joseph: Oh my God, Michael, look . . . .

Michael: Yeah, yeah . . . . !

So much for not alerting the monkey. Iggy sees their facial expressions to the baby’s actions and quickly turns around, completely startled by the baby approaching him. Distracted, Iggy loses sight of his grenade.

The pin is loose!

He’s fumbling it!

Iggy can’t control it!

Joseph: Oh my God, Mike!

Michael: Now! Grab Him!

Joseph quickly grabs the baby from Iggy and the two guards bolt. Iggy tries to recapture his weapon of destruction safely… .

But to no avail… .

KRAK-OOOOOOOMMMMM!

The people in the lobby react with murmurs of shock and panic. Little do Damon, Ember and Roth realize that poor Iggy is no more.

Damon: No one move! Stay where you are or there’ll be one more explosion to deal with here.

Ishmael: Damon, please, there doesn’t have to be anymore explosions. Just please give up. Don’t put your family through anymore.

Damon: They’ve already put up with enough of your bullshit as it is…

Ember tries talking Damon out of this, sobbing . . .

Ember: Damon, stop this, it’s over, please…

Damon clicks the Le Mat revolver. Officer Vernon is alert and ready to fire but remembers the dynamite.

Damon: SHUT YOUR MOUTH, WENCH! Ah’ve had it with your bickering, whining and complaining. That’s all you do, yeah? I did everything for you and this is the thanks I get, yeah?

Damon shuts his eyes for a split second, a tear or two comes out before he rants . . .

Damon:

You know, when I was but a lad I could see my father struggling as a shoemaker. He made shorter than pennies a day. Hell, he was goddam lucky he got a cheese sandwich for 8 hours of effort. That was then. I am tired, sick and fuckin’ tired of doing my fair share, yeah, and getting nothing back from the government. (To the police officers) I mean, who are you to tell me what ah can and can’t do, huh? HUH?!? Y’know the plan was simple. Rob the bank, take the money, fly off to an island in the South Pacific that no country owned and just piss off. Have fun. This was what I wanted more than anything, but fuck me in the arse, y’never get what you want.

Vernon: Damon, please listen to me. If you remove the dynamite, I promise you we will get you help. We will get you all the help you need. Just don’t… don’t… (stares at Damon pointing the gun to his family) don’t kill anyone, especially your wife and child. It’s not worth it. No heaven is worth the price of hell.

Damon looks over to Ember and Roth, his little blotchy skinned face and all and he just smiles his little smile.

Damon: What I would give up to be king!

Damon takes the revolver…

Turns it to himself…

Opens fire!

BLAAMMM!

Ember: Auugh!

Startled and crying out in terror, Ember quickly turns little Roth away from the gunshot, embracing him in her arms, away from the blood.

10:37am, Damon Notoreum has died.

Moments pass as the constables take Ember Soudek Notoreum into custody and put her son in the back seat of one of their squad cars.

Yassir has been taken to the nearest hospital under careful watch from local police. Nearby the bank as all cars are pulling away, a flag, a symbol of the Rainbow Harmony, people who were once lovers of change and peace turned bank robbers, flaps proudly in the breeze. On a green bamboo stick, the colors of Life, Sunlight, Nature, Healing and Serenity/Harmony are displayed on individual triangles along shades of black with white stars and a silver, Peace sign in the center. One day, this flag may evolve into something more, something to symbolize minority groups who desire fairness and change, not to be condemned for illnesses which don’t exist. Rainbow Harmony would have succeeded in robbing the bank of millions this fateful day and kept the police at bay.

If only little Roth had kept his mouth shut…

2nd Movement

The Mc Goth Crew

The Clown and the Witch

1983-1984: Wicked Hearts! The Equinox nightclub on Leicester Square near the heart of Picadilly Circus is a home of snobbish broads, wicked melodies, expensive cocktails and ugly old chaps. On stage with flashing pinks, yellows and blue lights from the black sky is a gothic rock band with three guys in the back, (one on drums, another one on violin and the third on electric guitar) and one lady in the front, singing and