Paul Simon – You can call me Al.


I just LOVE this song.  Catchy and so fun to sing along too.  The clip features Chevy Chase, who does a great job of taking over.


A man walks down the street
He says why am I soft in the middle now
Why am I soft in the middle
The rest of my life is so hard
I need a photo-opportunity
I want a shot at redemption
Don’t want to end up a cartoon
In a cartoon graveyard
Bonedigger Bonedigger
Dogs in the moonlight
Far away my well-lit door
Mr. Beerbelly Beerbelly
Get these mutts away from me
You know I don’t find this stuff amusing anymore

If you’ll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me Al

A man walks down the street
He says why am I short of attention
Got a short little span of attention
And wo my nights are so long
Where’s my wife and family
What if I die here
Who’ll be my role-model
Now that my role-model is
Gone Gone
He ducked back down the alley
With some roly-poly little bat-faced girl
All along along
There were incidents and accidents
There were hints and allegations

If you’ll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me Al
Call me Al

A man walks down the street
It’s a street in a strange world
Maybe it’s the Third World
Maybe it’s his first time around
He doesn’t speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound
The sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says Amen! and Hallelujah!

If you’ll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me Al
Call me Al

Everyone has a tale to tell – GS


Scene setting – Fifth and Maple : Joey’s Apartment.

co-written with Chor & VunG.


VunG:  Even through her slight daze, Elissa was more than happy to see that idiot Commander Bracks getting so worked up over being proven wrong; pride before the fall asshole. Of course, now that she had made it apparent where she stood and how things had worked out, she realized just how far into the line of fire she had placed herself… no pun intended. Thankfully, someone else came in, someone whom he immediately recognized as Khalil, someone that she had had to cooperate with on more than a few occasions. Even if they weren’t what you would call friends, she was definitely very grateful for the support, even if it was just stating the facts… she would’ve displayed it if she wasn’t so busy trying to keep firm towards the Commander.

She actually wasn’t aware of the corruption that the man went through, but at this point she would’ve been utterly unsurprised. Still, she backed off a bit as the other two came into the fray, but remained near them, glad to see that she wasn’t the only one with a bit of fire in her heart. Unfortunately, the crooked cop went ahead and confiscated all the photos, and while she had no doubt that one of them had pocketed a few, she knew that getting the pictures into the paper weren’t going to happen. If the things went public, Tommy would get charged with taking evidence from a crime scene. Once again, back to square one, and this time not a lead to be found.

And of course, throughout this whole fiasco, the poor EMT was just staying off to the side trying not to get caught in the crossfire.

The moment the commander was gone, she seemed to deflate, actually stumbling a bit before the EMT caught her, her good hand going up to her forehead as the world started spinning. Her eyes turning to see a concerned face looking at her, and suddenly she felt a strange warmth in her, despite her condition. Still, she didn’t have the energy to do much other than nod feebly, to which the EMT grumbled in frustration, “Not that she has much of a choice.” As the man started to usher her out of the crime scene, she turned to Tommy, and had an expression on her face almost begging for him to follow… if for no other reason to bust her out once she had her stitches in.

Provided nothing else happened, she’d be brought promptly downstairs to the ambulance and brought in; though thankfully they spared her the indignity of using a stretcher. And then she would be sped away, siren somewhat unnecessarily blaring.


Chor:  Isolde wasn’t sold at all on the idea that this was a drug-bust-turned-assassination. Did anyone really believe that? Maybe they spent so much time settling for ‘just enough’ that they couldn’t tell that this place smelled of serious mischief. She had actually forgott about the Commander, having very little respect for him anyways, and her attention snapped up to him when he countered her. Tested? She snickered to herself, wondering if he knew a single thing about actual crime scene investigation. Obviously, there would be testing done; idiot. That meant very little, though, in this situatio nat this moment, where she could see with her own eyes that it was not a point blank shot or even from across the room. This was a long-range, sniper shot.

Isa did not falter when the Commander stepped up to her. She stared hatefully past his bushy dark brows into his sunken eyes and crossed her arms with closed fists.

You can count on it,” She muttered, fighting the urge to spit where he stood. Khalil seemed to sense her growing attitude and he pulled her towards the body again, attempting to avert her attention to something useless and not even relevant to the case. She looked thankfully at him. He was usually the one whi played mediator, stopping her from saying things she shouldn’t and doing things that would cost her dearly. Once the Commander had finally given up on barraging everyone in the room with insults or questions, he exited the building. He left his rotten stink behind, though, and his corruption choked Isa.

Filthy, sexist bastard,” Isa muttered to herself as Frank approached. She knows of him, has been following a lot of his cases, but has never personally worked with him. Khalil handed her a bag and a sharpie.

Unfortuantely, I’ve got to take it. I’ll make sure to return it in good condition, though,” She said, holding the bag open for the gun to be placed in, then marking it accordingly. She’s certain there’d be no evidential use for it, but the Commander would be ever so pleased she did as he asked.

I won’t let him pin this on you, no matter how much he gets paid or how lazy and ignorant he is,” She said thoughtfully, her more humane side showing. This is a man’s career; and not only that, his life.


Razorbackwriter:  Frank turned his service revolver around in the palm of his hand so that the butt end was facing Isolde. The detective then dropped it into the offered bag with something of a sigh. At least Isolde was being compassionate in the light of how the Commander viewed things. The Commander had to be one of the most unpopular men in the force, and with good reason. Especially after the way he spoke to those on the site. He was a sexist pig and a bastard to boot. With the gun handed over, Frank took out his badge and stared at it for a moment. How long before they asked for this too? From beneath his furrowed brow, the Detective glanced up to hear that Isolde was not going to let the Commander pin the murder of Joey on him. It brought a little comfort in what had been a rotten morning thus far. “Its a tough battle when you got dicks like him in charge. Heh, you didn’t hear that from me.” Frank offered with a crooked smile. Ah, there was that sense of humor. It was good to know that he still had that at least.

Watching the other officers boxing up all the photographs and equipment, Frank knew that this was going to get buried at the police holding office. Maybe the porn pics will do the rounds, but the pictures of the beast that will probably be discredited as being photo shopped….or computer generated. That was the key evidence to clear his name over Rory, and as the police teams thinned out to let the forensics do their job, Frank knew it was time to go. One last look at the sheet covered body of Joey, and Frank started for the door. “Keep in touch…okay?” Frank said, before heading out the door.

Tommy was waiting for Frank outside. The paramedics had rushed Elissa off to the ambulance, which meant that the pair would have to follow in Tommy’s car. You could see that Tommy was already angered by the behavior of the Commander, and his eyes narrowed as Frank appeared. “No offence, Frank….but that was some stupid shit in there. Are they all useless as that Commander Klutz?” Tommy knew that his chances of those pictures of the beast making front page were now all but gone. They were really on to something, and now the main witness was dead and the evidence taken downtown. Frank wiped some blood splatter from his cheek and patted Tommy on the back. “We’ll figure this out. Just…not now. Come on, let’s get to the hospital. I’m worried about Elissa.”

The two men headed down the hall to the stairwell, and would make it out to Tommy’s car, as the blazing lights of the police illuminated the alley.



Chor:  As most of the cops had finished whatever it was they were pretending to do as they stood around breathing precious air and potentially destroying evidence with their sheer idiocy, this left the building empty save for Forensics, Khalil, and her. Khalil was already loading up the body into a bag and pushing it via gurney out to corpse-mobile, which left Isa by herself in what appeared to be some sort of living room. She scoured it for a few moments, finding nothing of significance, and almost resolved to leaving before abrupt laughter caught her attention in the next room. Obviously it was Forensics, she recognized Michael’s distinctly obnoxious chuckling. The room bustled with loud talking, then laughter, so Isa sauntered over and stood in the doorway. It was dark and they couldn’t see her at first.

The five men- including Ricardo the lanky newbie, Michael the unsightly prankster, Bronkov the stoic transfer, Balle the confused alcoholic, and Jameson the fucking prick- were all standing around a box of evidence. In their grubby fingers they held photographs. They were throwing the things around and making horrifying comments like they were playing some sort of pornographic trading card game.

“Riccy, here this one’s for you,” Jameson flicked a photo at the kid and he grasped the air, sadly not catching it. It fluttered slowly, as if caught on a breeze, landing just by Isa’s booted foot. Ricardo snatched it up, looking at her boot, then following it up to her eyes. Everyone fell silent then.

“This is evidence, you fucking dimwits,” She scolded, eyes narrowed to slits. Anger reddened her normally pale face and she took the picture from the newbie. It was a girl who could be no more than 19, naked and alone on a bed. There was a false sense of hunger in her eyes, followed by a sadness Isa knew all too well. The girls name was Amelia. She’d been a street girl when Isa’s sister was in Vice, but switched out of the game just to fall into another one. Just a week ago, Amelia was found in a hotel bathtub, beaten so terribly they almost couldn’t recognize her. Claura cried for a week.

“Oh, piss off, weirdo,” Jameson spat, making Isa smile because he couldn’t find anything more insulting to say. He growled, eyes shooting daggers, but the rest of the men just gathered everything and started leaving.

“No, leave the boxes, I’ve got to do inventory on it,” She commanded, knowing if any of these boxes disappeared from sight that helpful evidence might never be seen again. The men cursed their way out of the dark room, kicking feet like children at the prospect of being told what to do by a women. In picking up and inspecting the photos, she found that not all of them were of women. There were some that were barely distinguishable, like they hadn’t developed correctly, and some she could barely decipher. Then there were three that were actually frightening to look at. It was some sort of beast. Her eyes dug into the picture and she found herself thinking back to Claura’s third month in Vice. She’d seen something. As it was her duty to lurk in the night through all sorts of streets and alleys, she thought she’d seen it all. Claura was scared of whatever she’d seen. She told Isa every night that she came home that she felt she was being followed. Isa chalked it up to anxiety. Claura never was the best at handling stress and the new job was really getting to her. One month later, Claura disappeared and was never seen again. No one knows what happened. Nobody pays attention to a hooker. With a sigh, Isa went against everything she knew was right and pocketed the photo. Someone would know what this is. Someone had to believe her and if this photo disappeared, she would never figure it out. Collecting the three boxes of evidence, she exited the building and left in the running vehicle with the dead man in the back.





We are one, but we are many.







