meansgoodvoice
Babyface
Just something silly I was fiddling around with while talking with a friend earlier. The Fly is such an under-developed character unlike his devilish counterpart, so here's a made up history of Clarence (with a name like THAT you wouldn't protest to being called "The Fly", would you? So...should I continue or no? Hope you like it!
Rated PG for some scruffy humor...nothing horrible
Of Firemen and Rock Stars
Mrs. Keating’s class: a typical primary school setting. March 15, 1968, 10 AM, sun shining through the scattered windows and lighting up the mucus-colored wallpaper while toys lay strewn about the rather anticlimactic gray carpet along with discarded letter books. A bright and smiling woman all dolled up in a green turtleneck and far too much blush stood in front of a group of disenchanted seven year olds, half of whom had their fingers lodged appropriately in their right nostril.
Oh, but their eyes shone so brightly after the teacher explained the activity so their pea-brains could comprehend the actual question, the big enchilada that haunted the recesses of every child’s mind on occasion: what would life be like after primary school?
“Cindy, what would you like to do when you grow up?” A nice starter, Mrs. Keating told herself, and offered a gentle grin to the freckled girl with her brown curls all done up in lace.
“I’m going to be a mummy because my mummy says it’s the best job in the world!” cheered the poor, deluded Cindy, who ended up becoming a mommy before she anticipated to. That was when she became frighteningly aware that parents, too, could lie.
“And you, James? What do you want to do when you grow up?” Mrs. Keating asked sweetly of the fair-skinned, blonde boy who found a friend in everyone.
“I’m going to be a policeman because I don’t like it when kids pick on other kids,” James grinned from ear-to-ear. In fact, James (later known as “Jimbo the Gun”) enjoyed great success as a bank robber that plagued the West-side from the early 80’s until he was caught and put away in 1998.
So the antics went on and children flashed their rosy-cheeked teacher grins accompanied by words like “doctor”, “vet”, “fireman”, “parent”, or “movie star”. In reality a whole slew of drug addicts, criminals, alcoholic lawyers, strippers, and miserable divorcees sat before her. Perhaps two doctors and a teacher existed out of the pack…then there was the other.
“How about you, Clarence? What are you going to do when you’re all grown up?”
The dark-haired boy had anticipated this moment his whole life. He quivered in his sitting position for a moment, unable to muster up the strength to come to his feet. His bright and promising blue eyes darted between his peers and the stuffed animals scattered about: it was his show now. As if he were empowered by the eyes, the boy known as Clarence sprang to his feet in an impressive display. He tilted his head back and spoke as loud as possible not bothering to even take a breath much less think of pausing.
“When I grow up I’m going to be a big rock star and I’m going to get all the girls I can because I’m going to be rich and famous and happy and better than everyone else!”
Dead silence except for the boy’s heart thumping so loud it might have burst out of his chest right then and there; he still looked quite smug without a hint of regret. The notion of sitting again was out of the question; in fact Clarence stood there in the same position as if he were soaking up the stares.
He was beaming.
Quite a shame that he got a paddle from the teacher out of it and a bit of roughing up and home for such honesty, but all stories of such “epic proportions” must start with some sort of tragedy on the hero’s part.
Then again Clarence was never much of a hero except to himself. This is a story about him, both true and false. How should it be both? Nothing is definite in a life of stardom and Clarence was aware of this from an early age. There are many gaps to be filled yet, but some are better insinuated with such a man of mystery despite having his life (mostly, he’s hardly dead and gone) chronicles. This is real. This is false. This is a lie. This is the truth. This is a biography. This is an autobiography. This is about every other contradiction you could find. Almost lastly, this is amusing and both subject and author would greatly appreciate tips.
This is the Fly.
Rated PG for some scruffy humor...nothing horrible
Of Firemen and Rock Stars
Mrs. Keating’s class: a typical primary school setting. March 15, 1968, 10 AM, sun shining through the scattered windows and lighting up the mucus-colored wallpaper while toys lay strewn about the rather anticlimactic gray carpet along with discarded letter books. A bright and smiling woman all dolled up in a green turtleneck and far too much blush stood in front of a group of disenchanted seven year olds, half of whom had their fingers lodged appropriately in their right nostril.
Oh, but their eyes shone so brightly after the teacher explained the activity so their pea-brains could comprehend the actual question, the big enchilada that haunted the recesses of every child’s mind on occasion: what would life be like after primary school?
“Cindy, what would you like to do when you grow up?” A nice starter, Mrs. Keating told herself, and offered a gentle grin to the freckled girl with her brown curls all done up in lace.
“I’m going to be a mummy because my mummy says it’s the best job in the world!” cheered the poor, deluded Cindy, who ended up becoming a mommy before she anticipated to. That was when she became frighteningly aware that parents, too, could lie.
“And you, James? What do you want to do when you grow up?” Mrs. Keating asked sweetly of the fair-skinned, blonde boy who found a friend in everyone.
“I’m going to be a policeman because I don’t like it when kids pick on other kids,” James grinned from ear-to-ear. In fact, James (later known as “Jimbo the Gun”) enjoyed great success as a bank robber that plagued the West-side from the early 80’s until he was caught and put away in 1998.
So the antics went on and children flashed their rosy-cheeked teacher grins accompanied by words like “doctor”, “vet”, “fireman”, “parent”, or “movie star”. In reality a whole slew of drug addicts, criminals, alcoholic lawyers, strippers, and miserable divorcees sat before her. Perhaps two doctors and a teacher existed out of the pack…then there was the other.
“How about you, Clarence? What are you going to do when you’re all grown up?”
The dark-haired boy had anticipated this moment his whole life. He quivered in his sitting position for a moment, unable to muster up the strength to come to his feet. His bright and promising blue eyes darted between his peers and the stuffed animals scattered about: it was his show now. As if he were empowered by the eyes, the boy known as Clarence sprang to his feet in an impressive display. He tilted his head back and spoke as loud as possible not bothering to even take a breath much less think of pausing.
“When I grow up I’m going to be a big rock star and I’m going to get all the girls I can because I’m going to be rich and famous and happy and better than everyone else!”
Dead silence except for the boy’s heart thumping so loud it might have burst out of his chest right then and there; he still looked quite smug without a hint of regret. The notion of sitting again was out of the question; in fact Clarence stood there in the same position as if he were soaking up the stares.
He was beaming.
Quite a shame that he got a paddle from the teacher out of it and a bit of roughing up and home for such honesty, but all stories of such “epic proportions” must start with some sort of tragedy on the hero’s part.
Then again Clarence was never much of a hero except to himself. This is a story about him, both true and false. How should it be both? Nothing is definite in a life of stardom and Clarence was aware of this from an early age. There are many gaps to be filled yet, but some are better insinuated with such a man of mystery despite having his life (mostly, he’s hardly dead and gone) chronicles. This is real. This is false. This is a lie. This is the truth. This is a biography. This is an autobiography. This is about every other contradiction you could find. Almost lastly, this is amusing and both subject and author would greatly appreciate tips.
This is the Fly.
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