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jovialtorchlight · 1 month

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DUFFLEBAG--A PLAY IN ONE ACT

DUFFLEBAG

A play in one act by Jonny Bolduc

CONTENT WARNING: This play contains a depiction of suicide, as well as gunshots, murder, and implied violence against children.

CHARACTERS:

ALEX: A washed up journalist.

AJ: Demon incarnate.

DETECTIVE: Trying to piece the case together.

BETHANY: Alex’s sister.

WOMAN/WAITRESS

SCENE 1

LIGHTS come up on an empty newsroom. ALEX, an overweight middle aged man, hangs his coat up on the back of a rolling chair in front of a computer. SOUNDFX: A police scanner sputtering out a traffic stop.

ALEX:

Anyone home? Chuckles. Of course not. ALEX notices a manila envelope on his keyboard. As he sits down and boots up his computer. Wonder if those are the Seadog tickets I put my name in for yesterday.

ALEX is about to open the envelope when the phone rings. As ALEX answers, the lights fade on him and come up on the EDITOR and DETECTIVE sitting at a table downstage.

DETECTIVE:

Are there any cameras in the newsroom? Security cameras?

EDITOR:

Yeah.

DETECTIVE:

If I got a warrant to look at the footage, it would all be there, right? Everything from Saturday, March 16? No mysterious gaps?

EDITOR:

Look. I can’t speak for Alex. At this point, if he fucked with the footage, it wouldn’t suprise me. I thought…I thought I knew him. As well as anyone knew him…I never thought he would..

DETECTIVE:

Alright. As far as you know, on Saturday, what time did he get into the newsroom?

EDITOR:

3:30 p.m.

DETECTIVE:

Was anyone in the newsroom?

EDITOR:

No. He worked the skeleton hour, the time between the morning and night shift. When I first started at the journal, the cop beat came in in the morning. But staffing cuts--

DETECTIVE:

I don’t need a history lesson. I just need to know why Alex did it.

LIGHTS down on EDITOR and DETECTIVE. Lights up on Alex, speaking on the phone, typing on his computer and eating tortilla chips and salsa.

ALEX:

Thanks for talking to me on the weekend, Chief Perry. Do you know the condition of the nine year old injured in the crash? Critical? Ok, thank you. A huge glob of salsa falls onto his shirt.

Any other information? I understand. I’ll wait for the press release. Have a good weekend. Hangs up. Looks at salsa on his shirt. Shit. Raises salsa glob to his mouth and licks it clean.

Good enough. On his computer, ALEX reads aloud as he types.

“Dear Mark,

Regretfully, I am writing this letter to inform you that my last day of employment with the Twin Town Journal will on April 1st.

This dimly lit basement office, stale, moldy. Sometimes, I feel like I exist inside a slowly rotting carcass. It’s time for me to live. ”

No. I can’t.

ALEX aggressively hits the delete button. ALEX eyes the unopened manila envelope. He opens it.

Lights down on ALEX, back up on the DETECTIVE and EDITOR.

DETECTIVE:

Where did Alex sit?

EDITOR:

Alex’s desk was in the back corner of the newsroom.

DETECTIVE:

Why was he in the corner?

EDITOR:

Well, he earned it. It’s a hierarchy thing. New reporters were stationed at the front next to the copydesk, mainly so they couldn’t just Facebook all shift, look at cat pictures or pretend like they were answering emails.

DETECTIVE:

So he was a good employee?

EDITOR:

At one point. He won us seven Press Association awards, that he kept framed, and lined up on his desk, reminding us of his best work. 2012, an unreplicated year. The rest of the years were bad, full of mistakes and errors and mediocrity. But those seven awards kept him in the newsroom.

DETECTIVE:

Was there ever any problems with his behavior? Anything concerning?

EDITOR:

Every couple years he would be out for a few weeks for an unspecified “emergency.” I learned after the second one that he was admitted to the psyche ward. I don’t know the details, but I summized that he had pretty serious breakdowns every so often. But he never brought that to work.

LIGHTS HALF DOWN on EDITOR and DETECTIVE, LIGHTS UP ON ALEX. ALEX is reading the letter that was in the envelope.

ALEX:

Fuck. Fuck. Oh god. FUCK. ALEX puts his head in his hands.

ALEX vomits into the trash can beside him.

LIGHTS UP on EDITOR AND DETECTIVE.

EDITOR:

When we searched his desk, we found the note he read underneath a pile of vomit and soda cans. Tell me if you can make any sense of it.

“A.J.. favor. River behind Bethany’s, Mechanic F., 2:30 a.m., Monday.”

EDITOR:

It’s closed now, but Bethany’s was an ice cream store in Mechanic Falls. As for the rest… who AJ is…I have no idea.

Back to ALEX.

ALEX:

I think I’m having a fucking heart attack. Fuck. AJ. That crazy goddamn bastard is back. Fuck. Fuck.

Back to EDITOR. As the EDITOR speaks, the upstage is cleared.

EDITOR:

Alex didn’t do much for the rest of the night. Around 9 p.m., he went out for a three vehicle crash, out on Goff Hill.

DETECTIVE:

Yeah. I pulled the report, pieced it together. When Alex got there, police had already shut the road off, so he parked at Denny’s, waved at the cop directing traffic. Officer Moltisanti knew Alex from other scenes, and said, and I quote, “I thought we were going to have to call an ambulance. He was breathing heavy, like a panting, St. Bernard and he looked really pale. But he walked up the hill. Took some pictures of the crash. Headed back down the hill. We pulled some surveillance photos of Denny’s; he came in at 10:00 p.m., ordered a black coffee, and took out his computer to write the story.

EDITOR:

He never came back to the office.

Lights back up on Alex, drinking coffee at a counter. A waitress is setting a plate of food next to him.

WAITRESS:

Rough night, Alex?

ALEX:

Laughs. Yeah, you could say that. It’s the kind of night that makes me wish I never stopped smoking cigarettes. Do you remember when you could smoke in Denny’s?

WAITRESS:

Yeah, hon, I do. I’m pretty ancient.

ALEX:

You’re not ancient. You still got life left in you, Betty. Me, not so much.

WAITRESS:

What do you mean?

ALEX:

Nothing. Nothing. Thank you for talking to me.

WAITRESS:

Are you alright, hon?

ALEX:

Yeah. I’m ok.

I just..when I was a kid, my dad smoked. His flannels, the garage, everything had the smokey smell…and shit, I loved it. Even when I was old enough to know that the smoke was killing him. Do you know what I mean? When the thing that’s killing you gives you comfort?

WAITRESS:

Are you sure you’re ok?

ALEX:

Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Betty.

WAITRESS exits. ALEX reads as he types.

Comfort. Where does it come from? At what expense? Comfort comes from booze, food, Lexapro. Fleeting interests, the, distractions, anything to to get himself one step ahead of the chest tightening, stomach twisting, breathless, empty attacks. But still, the strange dread creeps into me. An alarm malfunctioning, blaring empty signals into my head.

But it’s real, this time. If you’re reading this, I’m dead. This is goodbye.

ALEX pays his check and leaves.

BLACKOUT.

SCENE 2

Lights up on a dream. A WOMAN appears. ALEX is with her.

ALEX:

Exactly as I remember you. You smill like dirt. Not unpleasant, more like you had been gardening. Green jeans, white tank top, humid August night…

WOMAN:

I’m drunk, stumbling. Both of us were, honey. But you were walking straight. I could smell your breath, though. And when I looked into your eyes, trying to kiss you, you were half on earth, half somewhere else.

ALEX:

Don’t get into the passenger seat.

WOMAN:

I have to. This is how it happened.

ALEX:

Fuck. I can’t…I can’t keep losing you.

WOMAN:

Alex. Remember something, when you wake up.

ALEX:

Of course.

WOMAN:

It was your fault.

LIGHTS DOWN. In the blackout, ALEX runs to his bed. LIGHTS up. ALEX wakes up violently, in a panic.

He throws the sheets off, and stumbles into the bathroom offstage. SOUNDFX of some nasty bathroom business.

He emerges.

He is talking to his dog.

Maisey. Girl. I love you. But I got to go. I hate this. I really do.

Want to come up on the bed?

ALEX lays down on the bed. BLACKOUT.

LIGHTS UP. ALEX is passing his sister, BETHANY, a collar.

ALEX:

She eats Nature’s Pride. Exclusively.

BETHANY:

I know. I’ve dogsat for you before. How long are you going to be gone, again?

ALEX:

Three days. It was kind of last minute. I’m going up to Presque Isle for a job interview.

BETHANY:

You’re leaving Twin City?

ALEX:

Yeah. Maybe moving up north.

BETHANY:

Alex? I need to…ask you something.

ALEX:

Sure.

BETHANY:

Are you ok? You seem…not ok.

ALEX:

I’m fine.

BETHANY:

I don’t believe that. Come on. If something’s wrong, I can help you.

ALEX:

I swear to god, Beth, nothing’s wrong.

BETHANY:

Alex. I love you. You’re my brother. And we’ve been through hell. I know you well enough to know when you’re going through some shit. And look, after last year, you promised you would be honest. Please, be honest.

ALEX:

Beth. Nothing is wrong.

BETHANY:

You know what my worst fear is? What keeps me up at night? I get a call saying that you’re dead, that you killed yourself, that the worst day is here. I can’t picture life without you, Alex. So please. Come on. Tell me what’s wrong.

ALEX:

A heavy pause.

I…got a letter.

BETHANY:

What did it say?

ALEX:

It was..it was from…A credit card company. I’m getting sued for like 15,000 dollars. I might lose everything

. Lights down on ALEX and BETH.

Back up on DETECTIVE and BETH.

DETECTIVE:

Before we start, I’m sorry for your loss.

BETH:

Doesn’t answer.

So. You think it was him?

DETECTIVE:

Yeah. We do. Almost cert--

BETH:

It was A.J.

DETECTIVE:

A.J? A.J Gutenski?

BETH:

Yeah.

DETECTIVE:

Huh. Look, I shouldn’t tell you this, but Bethany. Forensic confirmed that Alex fired the bullet that killed AJ.

BETH:

No. No, you don’t understand. Whatever happened, that bastard was behind it. Alex didn’t even own a fucking gun.

DETECTIVE:

He bought one the night he died.

BETH:

What? Well, come on- iIt must have been self defense.

DETECTIVE:

Ok. Look, I understand you’re grieving--

BETH:

I know what you’re going to ask me about. When I last talked to him. Look, he lied to me. I had no idea AJ was back in town. But you have to understand. If he told me AJ was back in town, I would have personally escorted Alex to the gunstore. AJ was less of a person and more a fucking demon.

DETECTIVE:

Bethany. I know you’re upset, but AJ was a veteran. A former police officer. An upstanding-

BETH:

With all due respect, detective. He’s a sociopathic fuckhead. He killed my brother.

LIGHTS UP on Alex in his apartment. It is dark. He is looking in a mirror.

ALEX:

Look at this. A fucking disgusting piece of shit. Pale skin, gross, scaby graying beard, greasy ass hair, lumpy, overstuffed disgusting. I’m such a fucking piece of shit.

Pause.

AJ. That fucking bastard.

Alex screams, guttural, and punches the mirror, shattering it. He grunts in pain. He picks glass from his knuckles and wraps his hand in a bloody papertowel.

END SCENE.

SCENE 3:

Lights up on Bethany and Detective.

Detective:

We know that early in the morning, after Alex dropped off his dog-

BETHANY:

Maisy.

DETECTIVE:

Sure, yeah, Maisey--he drove Bethany’s Ice Cream. He parked in the back lot, down where there’s a steep bank that leads to the river underneath the railroad trestle. Why would he go to Bethany’s? Did he have some sort of connection to the place?

BETHANY:

We grew up in Mechanic Falls. We used to joke that I owned the place. Mechanic Falls wasn’t like…dead back then. When Alex was a boy, this small mill town still had a mill, and it still felt like a town. He’d walk from our massive Victorian home on Main Street to a three room school that served all 25 kids in town, he’d ride his bike down the trails to the brooks and he’d rip around on his dirt bikes, up and down Main Street.

The town was his. Ours. Which is why I think the fire effected him so much.

DETECTIVE:

The mill fire? 2018?

BETHANY:

Yeah. He wrote about it. I’d read it to you, but I still haven’t been given any of his belongings.

DETECTIVE:

They’re in evidence. Why do you think the fire effected him?

BETHANY:

We watched the town go up in flames.

DETECTIVE:

Just the mill. And no one was hurt.

BETHANY:

Yeah. But he worked his first job in that mill. I think he saw it like…the past was burning down. Like the fire was destroying every good memory he ever held.

DETECTIVE:

Huh. Ok.

So. Answer this.

When did your brother become a far right extremist?

BETHANY:

What? What the fuck are you talking about?

DETECTIVE:

We found a vile journal with all kinds of shit in it. He listed all the people he wanted to hurt. He was radicalized. For christ sake, he tried to--

BETHANY:

That wasn’t him. It was AJ. It had to be AJ.

LIGHTS DOWN.

LIGHTS UP on AJ. He is standing, hands in his pockets, shivering. He is down by the river; the sound of rushing water. The sound of tires screeching. AJ is here. Car door slams shut. AJ strides onstage. He is ex-military, clad in a green tank top and cargo pants. Cleancut.

AJ:

Look. The fat bastard’s waiting. Get in my belly. Bring it in bud.

AJ grasps ALEX in a unwilling bearhug. It’s too long, too tight. ALEX wiggles in protest. ALEX is checking for a wire. When AJ lets go, he pushed ALEX, and almost sends him scrambling back.

Thought I was going to get lost in all that blubber. It’s good to see you, friend.

ALEX:

It’s…uh..good to see you too, AJ. Where have you--

AJ:

Like a flipped switch. He’s violent. He grabs ALEX by the shoulders. None of your fucking buisness where I’ve been, you fat fuck. Why do you need to know? Are you a fucking narc? You don’t ask me shit. Knees ALEX in the groin. ALEX collapses on the ground, rolling. AJ makes as if he’s going to stomp AJ in the head, but lands on the ground beside him, howling in laughter.

I forgot how easy to are to fuck with, friend. Now, look. I got a favor to ask you, once you find your balls again. As ALEX gathers himself, AJ reaches into a bag beside him and pulls out a pair of fishing waders.

You’re going to go for a little swim. Throws the waders at ALEX.

ALEX:

What?

AJ:

Sure, it ain’t going to be warm. But, you know something? The Russians, those crazy bastards, cut holes in the ice and started swimming in the winter. It’s supposed to cleanse their bodies of toxins from vodka or something. Then, some rich Norwegian socialist fucks started doing it, and it spread over to the US, and now, there are, and I shit you not, people that jump in ice cold water for fun. Fucking crazy assholes.

Look, you’re going to do have to do some physical activity. You may have a heart attack. But look. It’s real shallow under the bridge. You’re going to wade out. The current shouldn’t be too bad. About halfway, your left foot is going to nudge a cinderblock. Lift it up. There’s going to be a chain. Dig a bit. There’s going to be a duffle bag tied to a rock. I don’t want my DNA on that bag. Laughs. Grab it, bring it over here.

At least I got you some waders. Gear up, Mr. Belvedere.

ALEX clumsly puts on the waders, and hobbles offstage. AJ sparks a cigarette, leans back, and watches. He yells OS to ALEX.

“Look! A fuckin’ whale in his natural habitat! Keep going tubby! Hariet fucking Tubbyman over here.”

After a pause, ALEX screams. Splashing.

ALEX:

From OS.

MY WADERS ARE FULL OF WATER--I’M--

AJ howls with laughter. He moves to the side of the stage and pulls a soaking wet, hacking, miserable ALEX to the center of the stage. He’s clutching a dufflebag. ALEX gets on all fours and starts hacking life a halfdrowned cat.

AJ:

You’re fucking fine, you goddamn pussy.

AJ slaps ALEX on the back, three times, hard, then kicks him hard in the side. ALEX wheezes, falls over on his side, clutching himself.

Let’s get this gear off you, soilder!

AJ yanks the waders off of ALEX, but purposefully removes his pants as well, leaving him in his underwear, huddled, shivering, half drowned, and bruised on the bank.

Alright, alright. It’s ok, baby.

AJ leans down next to ALEX to cuddle him, spooning him.

Big fat baby. You chunky son of a bitch. Get up. Get up. GET UP!

AJ leaps up, and pulls ALEX to his feet.

Open the fucking dufflebag.

AJ, trembling, gets down on all fours, again, and slowly unzips the dufflebag. He peers inside. The horror of what’s inside hits him after a pause. He screams.

BLACKOUT.

LIGHTS UP on DETECTIVE and BETH.

DETECTIVE:

Did anyone tell you how he died?

BETH:

My brother? I mean, I know he took his own life.

DETECTIVE:

A single gunshot wound to the head. A pretty obvious suicide.

I have a photo for you, Bethany.

BETH:

Are you fucking serious? I don’t want to see his head--

DETECTIVE:

No. Not of his head. Of what was in the dufflebag he pulled out of the river. You need to see it. You need to see it to really understand what we’re dealing with.

BETH:

Nods. DETECTIVE slides the photos to her. She opens the envelope, looks, and dry heaves.

Fuck.

DETECTIVE:

I know you think your brother had nothing to do with this, and I wish the facts supported that. But what we have, everything we have, points to him.

BETH:

Through tears.

Fuck.

LIGHTS back up on ALEX and AJ.

AJ:

Peers over the duffle bag, doesn’t touch it.

Ha. That’s her alright. Damn. She’s looking a little…waterlogged, isn’t she.

ALEX:

Through tears.

What the fuck did you do, AJ? What the fuck did you--

AJ:

Shut up. Here’s what’s you’re going to do. You’re going to get the fuck up. You’re going to pick up the bag, put it in your car. Your going to go to your apartment. I got some hydrocloric acid. We’re going to take care of this, and tomorrow, we’re going to make some people fucking pay. Get up. Get up.

ALEX:

She was fucking innocent, AJ. She was a…a…

Gets up, stands over the duffle bag for a moment. In one motion, ALEX suckerpunches AJ hard, in the head, and AJ crumples. ALEX grabs the dufflebag, and as AJ comes alive, ALEX scrambles up the bank.

AJ:

Time for a fuckin’ hog chase! Squeal squeal, you fuck! Squeal squeal!

BLACKOUT. END SCENE

SCENE 4

ALEX is in his car, death gripping the steering wheel. The soggy dufflebag is beside him. His phone rings. He answers.

ALEX:

Hello, AJ.

AJ:

Where the fuck you think you going, lardass?

ALEX:

The police.

AJ:

Why the fuck would you do something like that?

ALEX:

Because the decomposed head of your child is in a duffle bag next to me.

AJ:

They’re going to think it was you.

ALEX:

So what? I’ll tell the truth. That’s all I can do.

AJ:

Huh. Well lookie here. I think I’m coming up behind you. Silver Subaru Impreza, 98142TW. Yup. That’s you. Here’s a little nudge, buddy.

AJ rams ALEX’s car from behind. ALEX tries to brace and steady himself. Sound FX of a car skidding. It’s not enough to go off the road.

I’ll be harder next time. And here’s a little sting.

Gunshot. A bullethole in the sidemirror.

Next time, I won’t miss.

ALEX:

Do you remember when we met, AJ?

AJ:

I sure do. I was an Oxford County Deputy. I rolled up on you, rolled over in a ditch. Your sweet--Jane, was it? Was dead. Head caved in from the door crunching around her temple. You were crying, drunk as hell. I recognized you from the paper. Took you into my cruiser, drove you home, put your drunk ass to bed, saved you from being arrested for manslaughter. Told them it was just her in the car. I saved you, you fuck. You owe me.

ALEX:

I didn’t ask you to save me, AJ. You know, when I dream about her, she tells me..it was my fault.

AJ:

That sucks. It’s true. It was your fault.

ALEX:

Yeah. It was my fault.

This is the first time I’ve said that out loud. And it didn’t even kill me. AJ. I have a question. How many others are there? How many others have you…killed?

AJ:

Lost count.

ALEX:

Children?

AJ:

We all have our vices.

ALEX:

ALEX cranks the steering wheel. Screeching tire sound. BLACKOUT, just long enough for car to clear. ALEX is outside of the car, still in his underwear, holding a gun. Car door slams shut. AJ enters from the opposite side of the stage, and stops when he sees ALEX holding the gun.

AJ:

Well look at you. When you get the balls to buy a gun? I shouldn’t be too worked up. You’re too much of a puss--

ALEX:

Shoots AJ. AJ dies. ALEX takes AJ’s phone from his pocket. Puts the phone on speaker. Kneels stage center. Answering machine.

Beth. I’m…sorry. AJ’s dead. I wish… it didn’t happen like this. I wish I was better. Take care of Maisy. I love you. Goodbye.

GUNSHOT AS BLACKOUT.. END

#jonny bolduc #playwriting #short play #one act

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schmergo · 2 years

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PR Person: Welcome into office, Mr. Governor. It’s such a breath of fresh air to have a wholesome, clean-cut family man as governor of this state after your predecessors’ sex scandals, embezzlement scandals, and deeply offensive costume scandals. Now, I hate to ask this because I’m sure it’s not necessary, but is there anything we should know about your past that you want us to keep out of the news? Any skeletons in your closet?

Governor: (chuckles) Oh, haha, well, I was a major geek in high school. Might be embarrassing if those old photos got out.

PR Person: Haha, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, sir.

(TWO MONTHS LATER, video footage surfaces of the Governor in his high school talent show biting the heads off of live chickens as the audience boos, screams, and faints. The video goes viral. Protestors are chanting loudly outside the Governor’s Mansion. News helicopters are hovering overhead.)

PR Person: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME, MR. GOVERNOR???

Governor: I LITERALLY DID!

#short skit #skit #short play #politics #I dunno #this idea came to me in the shower

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girlwithlandscape · 1 year

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Dalton Day

#Dalton day #moss #theater #short play #quote #poetry #poem #weird shit #dreams

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devonellington · 2 months

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Tues. March 5, 2024: The Need For a New Plan -- Yet Again

image courtesy of Pexels via pixabay.com Tuesday, March 5, 2024 Waning Moon Rainy and mild I hope you had a good weekend. I alternated between feeling like I was coping reasonably well, and feeling like roadkill. Today’s serial episode is from LEGERDEMAIN: Episode 169: Councilman Grabham’s Threat An unpleasant councilman threatens Shelley’s job. Legerdemain Serial Link Legerdemain Web…

View On WordPress

#auditions #End of Play #FALL FOREVER #Legerdemain #mechanic #short play #short story #Spectrum #stroke recovery #THE WOMEN ON THE BRIDGE #Vella

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itsbasil · 18 days

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this literally never stops being funny like dog they made starship troopers with the Baby's First Satire cranked up to 11 and these people are still fucking dumbfounded that the creators don't share their politics

#idk if anyone who follows me plays helldivers 2 but trust me #when it comes to “political commentary in video games”#helldivers 2 does everything short of putting “YOU ARE FIGHTING FOR THE BAD GUYS” in every loading sequence #helldivers #helldivers 2

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kxsalt · 1 month

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Meeting Daddy’s friends for the first time, but you’re completely naked because he wants to show off his new pet.

Daddy’s friends taking photos of your little body to jerk off to later.

Daddy’s friends talking about all the dirty things they would force you to do if you weren’t owned.

Daddy’s friends laughing at all his stories about the icky kinks you do just to get his attention.

You cry in embarrassment because you thought those stories would be your dirty little secret and now everybody knows you’re a whore.

Daddy spanking you for crying in front of all his friends.

Daddy showing off how many toys you can fit in your little holes at once, and Daddy smacking your tits for cumming without permission.

Daddy letting each of his friends pull a toy out of your needy pussy, and Daddy slapping your cheeks each time you let a toy come out.

You try to hide and make yourself small while still showing everybody your fuckholes, because Daddy told you to.

Half of them go out for a smoke and Daddy makes you promise that you won’t suck cock or get fucked while he’s gone, because you’re just for him to use.

Daddy’s friend forcing your legs apart and shoving his cock into your wet pussy the second he leaves.

Daddy’s friend cumming inside of you as you beg him not to because only Daddy is supposed to breed you.

You cry, and try to clean the cum out of your pussy with your hands before Daddy gets back.

Daddy sees that you’ve been crying and spanks you as punishment again.

Daddy finds your creampied pussy and uses his belt to punish you for disobeying him.

Daddy pouring another drink and laughing with his friend that fucked you because it’s not his fault you’re a slut.

Daddy’s friends slowly start to leave for the night, and he makes you give each of them a hug and a kiss. They grope you while they squeeze your body and play with your tongue when they kiss you.

Daddy’s friend who used you whispers in your ear that the next time he gets you alone he’ll break you on his cock.

Once everyone’s gone, Daddy puts on your leash and walks you to the bedroom. There, he uses you for anal sex because your pussy is still full of his friend’s cum.

After he finishes, Daddy puts you in your cage to sleep. You were misbehaving all night, and naughty girls don’t get to sleep in the bed.

Cum trickles from your used holes as you curl up in your cage, hoping that Daddy’s friends liked you.

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stil-lindigo · 7 months

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the fox god.

a comic about a trickster.

creative notes:

–

all my other comics

store

#cw: emotional abuse #cw: gaslighting #cw: animal death #charity - a god whose name was only ever meant to be ironic #i love playing with the concept of religion like this #im not religious at all but i did go to a christian school for twelve years #and i remember learning about the story of abraham. who long story short gets told by god to kill his son to prove his love for god.#and at the veeeery last minute god goes sike! this was a test to see if you'd do it! here's a lamb to slaughter instead #but the whole concept of that exchange in and of itself is so #anyway #one thing i meant to include in the creative notes but i ran out of room for is that charity never calls cunning by his name.#it's just “fox”. which was a small touch to indicate that he never acknowledged cunning's identity outside of being something exploitable.#but for all charity's hidden disdain for cunning #he still stole all his strengths and coveted them. he became known as the fox god.#so maybe some part of cunning survived. despite everything.#“give me your heart.”#“my god. it had always been yours.”#comic art #hearteaters #stillindigo art #stillindigo comics #one more comic to go until im finished with this collection!!

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hattersarts · 9 months

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wives!

#good omens #ineffable wives #Crowley #aziraphale #i have essays on reasons for their designs but the short ones are:#Crowley said lets play with gender presentation in a gay way #and aziraphale said im gonna do my gender but gay #there are nuainces to the homosexualities 🤌

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peevishpants · 11 months

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big backpack for a little guy but it's a little backpack for a big guy

#short king propaganda #tears of the kingdom #totk #zelda #fanart #weiwei art #been playing this a lot and finally took a break to draw something about it!#i almost want to touch hyrule university au again LOL except link switches to engineering and becomes an AutoCAD guru #legend of zelda #dude u can edit text WITHIN tags now even after committing them!!! whoa

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nochefloreciendo · 1 year

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"Two lovers, Eufémia and Montse, meet in a secluded garden in the aftermath of an anarchist attack on members of nobility. While the two share a desire for equality amongst their people, it becomes clear that they differ in their actions and a wedge begins to form in their relationship."

#The Garden of Night Blooming Flowers #New Work #Short Play #10 mins #Playwriting

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jovialtorchlight · 1 month

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AS YOU ONCE WERE

A short play by Jonny Bolduc

Characters:

VOICE: You, in a dream.

YOU. You, as you are.

CHILD: You, are you once were.

---------------------------------------

VOICE:

The door flies open.

YOU:

Damn. This is it. The house I grew up in. The blue armchair in the living room, the hardwood floor, the desk by the window. I remember every divot in the carpet. Can I…go into my room?

VOICE O.S:

It’s your dream. You can do whatever you want. But there’s something you should know. The junk drawer, the one that squeaked really loud every time it opened and annoyed the shit out of dad is stuffed full of handwritten apology notes.

YOU:

Apology notes? To who?

VOICE:

I’ll tell you in a moment. But get this. The hamster you buried in the backyard in 2005 is scurrying across the kitchen countertops. Fresh sheets, still hot from the dryer are parachuted on the bed. Sims 2 is loaded up on the white brick computer.

YOU:

Holy shit. Can..can I stay here?

VOICE:

No.

YOU:

Oh.

VOICE:

Tell me something.

How are your days? How have you been living?

YOU:

I haven’t. I haven’t really been living. I have given myself to the flow of

the days that do not understand mercy or what it means to cry “uncle”. I have burned this house in my mind. I have razed this memory to the ground. I have tried to end my life twice.

VOICE. O.S:

Huh. Interesting. You know, I think someone here might be able to help you.

Come on in.

A CHILD enters, clad in a baseball cap.

CHILD:

Hi.

YOU:

Hi. Are you…?

CHILD:

You? Yeah, I am.

YOU:

Me. As a..kid?

CHILD:

As a ten year old.

YOU:

Woah.

CHILD:

Yeah!

YOU:

So. I was, uh, wondering something.

CHILD:

Whatsup?

YOU:

Can I stay here?

CHILD:

I don’t think so. Why? Is the future not good? I mean, are we not happy?

YOU:

No. We’re…not.

CHILD:

Why not? What’s wrong? Are we not a famous writer?

YOU:

No. And look, it’s just…time hasn’t been kind to us. Time has taken and taken and taken and we’ve been battered by the unrelenting force of the days. The terror of the nights.

It’s like every day, another heavy stone is dropped onto my chest. I just…I can’t take it anymore.

I gave up.

On life.

CHILD:

You gave up on us? What? How could you?

Why? Is there nothing else to learn? No books to read? No time to go look into the water of a pond and see the water teeming with tadpoles and triops and waterbeds and life? No good video games? No time to give mom a hug?

What could be so bad that you would want to do that? I mean, things can be dark and scary and bad, right now. The dark corner of the basement where I saw a ghost. The terrible roar of the furnace echoing in the dark. When I get real trapped in my thoughts and my chest gets tight and I get sweaty and panic. When I get sad for no reason and want to get lost in the woods and never come back to school. But I keep going.

You’re telling me…we aren’t worth it?

YOU:

I’m so sorry.

I’ve tried to get better. To get help. But every fucking day—

CHILD:

That’s a bad word.

YOU:

I’m sorry. Every day is full of stress and terror and failing. I just…I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t get better. I’ve tried so many times and I keep falling back down into this pit of black.

CHILD:

Look. It's okay. Want to play Animal Crossing? That always makes me feel better when I'm sad. Or we could look for frogs at the grassy edge of the retention pond.

YOU:

I would love to. But do we have time?

CHILD:

Of course we have time. Obviously, you can’t stay here forever. But you can find someone like me. A kid who needs what we needed when we were younger. And if you help, if you make things better…some of the sadness will go away.

I can’t stay here forever, either. I’m gone. I’m a part of you, now. But we can do this. We can find the light again. We can feel safe.

We can do it together.

YOU:

I’m so sorry.

CHILD:

It’s ok.

Want to play Super Smash Brothers?

YOU:

Absolutely.

I’m going to beat you.

CHILD:

No way!

Grabs cap off of CHILD’s head. CHILD reaches for it, and they run off, laughing.

END

#short play #playwriting #poetry #jonny bolduc #jovialtorchlight

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sp0o0kylights · 5 months

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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms.

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans.

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at.

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming.

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme.

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym.

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel.

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give.

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures.

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds.

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious. “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.”

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was.

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it.

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome.

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again.

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!”

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!”

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s.

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!”

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.”

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise.

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for.

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.)

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con.

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.”

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of;

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all.

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.”

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this.

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game.

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all.

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.)

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly.

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

“Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?”

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of a few silly images.”

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room.

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!”

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air.

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking.

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!”

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed.

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.)

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway.

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.”

Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.”

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

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friendly-neighborhood-furry · 7 days

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for anyone who doesn't have the Return YouTube Dislike Plugin, here's how Watcher Entertainment's "Goodbye Youtube" video is doing right now

yeah... gonna throw out a yikes on that one

i suspect this number will only keep growing in the coming days/weeks, especially the longer and longer we go without any sort of response.

EDIT: its only been three hours and the number has already jumped to 206K dislikes.

#the fucking balls to link to their merch store on the announcement video too #as a long time fan i'm very disappointed #i get that creatives want to and SHOULD be paid fairly for their work.#hell my dad got laid off by MF DISNEY for wanting to be paid a fair wage for the work he was doing #but we're not talking about the billion dollar mega-corporation Disney here #we're talking about a company that by *all respects* should be able to sustain itself off of Youtube Ads & Patreon & Merch & Live Shows-#WITHOUT blowing 100K on flying 6 people out to haunted houses or paying 20 people to make and produce ONE lets play video #in short: Watcher... get your shit together.#watcher entertainment #we are watcher #watcher #shane medej #ryan bergara #steven lim

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devonellington · 11 months

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Fri. June 2, 2023: Spontaneity on a Sunny Day

Seating area at Clark Art Institute Reflecting Pool. Photo by Devon Ellington Friday, June 2, 2023 First Day of Full Moon Pluto Retrograde Sunny and warm We injected some spontaneity into the day yesterday. Today’s serial episode is from Angel Hunt. Episode 38: Guidance, Wanted or Not When you ask your Guardian Angel questions, you get honest answers. Angel Hunt Serial Link…

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disastersareajoy · 2 months

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Pussy Drunk Thomas Hewitt - Drabble

Thomas Hewitt x FEM!Reader

Tags: established relationship, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, talk of bruises, wet and messy, squirting, dacryphilia, overstimulation

Word count: 1.1k

fucking obsessed with the idea of Thomas getting absolutely, down bad, pussy-drunk as soon as he gets a taste

like his virgin-ass being too afraid of hurting you to fuck you at first and getting on his knees for you. he gets a taste, kind of pulls back and licks his lips and you can see his pupils dilate and his eyes fucking glaze over and he just falls face first into your pussy

sloppy, wet, spit slick, hungry oral from that man. his teeth bump into you in all the right ways sometimes. one moment he's whimpering into you and the next he's grumbling and trying to get his tongue deeper and deeper into you to taste more

and it does not matter to him when you beg for him to slow down and how you can't cum anymore. because you keep dripping on his face and tongue and making wonderful noises and you just taste so fucking good, how could he stop??

his arms wrap around your thighs and he holds onto them hard and firm and keeps you pulled close to his face. you can feel that it's gonna bruise and you're going to cherish those bruises for days

he doesn't even notice how hard he's gripping you because he's trying to get all of his senses filled with you. he tastes, smells and feels nothing but you. the only thing his ears can focus on are your moans and whimpers. his hands massage your thighs periodically and when he opens his eyes it's just to look at your face, thrown back in pleasure. the only thing better is when you're looking down at him with tears in your eyes, still moaning for him

Tommy is completely drunk off your taste. he loves the feeling of your pussy on his tongue and he loves the little whining groan you let out when he sucks on your clit

now, when he keeps going and going and your hand in his hair trying to push him away finally falls to your side, he doesn't even realize what he's doing next. it's all out of instinct when his hands readjust so his arms stay wrapped around your thighs but his thumbs are spreading open your folds. that's when he really loses it

because he can get his tongue even deeper like that. he can bury it inside you and find the spot that makes you drip a little more and that makes you moan all broken and needy. once he finds it he abuses the fuck out of it. keeps licking over it, poking at it with his tongue and savoring every drop of you that spills into his mouth

and then. his holy grail. you grab his hair again and moan louder. you're sobbing and begging him to slow down because it feels different this time. he doesn't listen of course. all he knows is you're about to do that thing again where he can feel your pussy flutter and twitch and your thighs squeeze around him and your moans get all whimpery

he keeps going until your hips lift up into him. he stays attached to your pussy and keeps doing what he's doing, knowing he can't stop. needs to keep going to get you to do that thing

suddenly you gasp and go completely quiet. then you moan so loud it's almost a scream. a sobbing sort of thing that's absolutely gorgeous to him. on top of that your hips start wildly shaking along with your legs and your pleasure starts gushing out of you

Tommy moans into your juices and gets closer if that's even possible at that point. he shakes his head so he rubs over your clit side to side while he keeps his tongue abusing that spot inside you. and fuck does he get drenched. he swallows down as much as he can of you and whimpers into it. anything he can't get, drips down his face and drenches his shirt and lap

once you come down you realize he's still going and you can't handle it anymore. you start crying more and weakly kicking your legs out which finally makes Tommy look up. he sees your devastated face and while he thinks the sweat mixed with tears and drool, as well as the tortured pleasure in your eyes is a heavenly sight, he listens to your weak pleas

he finally pulls away and you sigh in relief. Tommy stays away from your pussy (as much as he hates it) and spends his time licking your thighs clean. just a minute away from your pussy makes him whimper and look up at you pleadingly. your legs are still shaking and you shake your head at him

so Tommy whines and starts biting your thighs instead, getting closer and closer to your pussy until he's mouthing right next to it. you're shaking and sweating and still losing a coupe tears when he licks flat over your clit once. then your back arches and you gasp, trying not to make too loud a noise

you know if you moan he's gonna start again and you think he might actually kill you that time. he softly licks over your clit again, wraps his lips around it and you slap a hand over your mouth. but Tommy sees your lack of noise as a sign to keep going and starts sucking on your clit. when his teeth graze over it your hand whips away from your mouth to his hair and you yell out a moan that ends with a broken whine

immediately you know you're in for it. Tommy moans happily and grabs your thighs hard once more. he dives into you again and gets back to his sloppy, needy and enthusiastic pace without hesitation. all you can do is moan, whimper and whine as Tommy makes you see stars over and over again

he's obsessed with making you squirt on his face and listening to your whimpers as he tastes you. he loves the feeling of your heartbeat in your clit, pounding against his tongue

sometimes you can't get him off of your pussy until he's had at least a couple hours of his way with you. he's obsessed with your pussy and a single taste makes him entirely lose his mind. he'd do anything to fall to his knees in front of you

he would spend forever between your thighs if it was up to him

your pussy is his paradise and his salvation. every gush of your juices is a baptism of wonder. you are his goddess and he worships you at every turn

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #TCM #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw the beginning #thomas hewitt smut #texas chainsaw smut #DisastersAreAJoyDrabbles #this was supposed to be a short idea #and then i just couldn't stop #Tommy has been haunting me lately and this just wouldn't stop playing over in my mind #if literally anyone wants this idea more fleshed out and an actual fic lmk #will absolutely write it if only one person says yes #ill probably write it anyways #HES HAUNTING ME AND I LOVE IT

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