CONCUSSION: MAJIK LEVEL 1 GRIMOIRE 1 – CHAPTER TWO – DAY ONE – RAW, UNEDITED

CONCUSSION
DAY ONE
RICHARD SKEET

Copyright © 2015
RICHARD SKEET
All rights reserved.

Bullied

Some background from my observations of Ray:
Ray’s a sweet kid;
loves people;
enjoys life:
smart,
friendly,
outgoing,
compassionate-
Ray has a circle of friends,
and,
is popular at the elementary school he goes to.
He knows everyone;
everyone knows him.
He’s one of the smallest kids in school,
and also poor;
or rather,
his single-mom-raising-him is poor.

Ray and his mom get-by on food-stamps.
Live in government-subsidized housing.

Ray has:
a poor-kid’s toys,
a poor-kid’s haircut,
a poor-kid’s sneakers-
Those things didn’t matter much in the 6th grade;
when Ray gets to East Junior-High:
they matter.

Ray’s a master at chess;
learned the game at age four.
In the sixth grade,
he’s chess champion of his school:
able to defeat every student,
and teacher.

Ray’s,
by far,
the smartest kid in the school:
scoring at college-level in achievement-tests.

He likes sports,
is good at them.
Unfortunately,
Ray doesn’t reach puberty when his friends do.
When junior-high starts,
he’s smaller and weaker:
no hair on his balls.

Ray’s chip: “Why’d you have to tell them that?”

I say: “It’s part of the story Ray.
You were the-shit till East Junior-High;
then you reached puberty late.
This,
combined with your poverty and high intelligence,
made you a pariah.

Objectivity is one of the main reasons:
The Emperor appointed me to tell the story.
It’s hard to be objective telling the story of your own life,
Ray.”

Junior-high a sea of new faces.
His sixth grade class:
80 kids.
Seventh grade:
800.

The junior-high combines ten elementary-schools.
New alliances and cliques form.
Many of Ray’s friends in elementary-school,
ignore him when they get to junior-high.
He doesn’t blame them.

Ray’s no longer a popular kid.

Small, weak, poor.
His mom drives a piece-of-shit car;
lives in government-housing;
eats the government-cheese.

The popular kids:
bigger,
stronger,
and wear cool clothes.

Additionally,
Ray’s too-smart.
Seen by many of his peers as:
a teacher’s pet;
a know-it-all.
In junior-high,
as in life,
this ‘asset’ can actually be a ‘liability’.

Really-smart kids are called:
nerds,
geeks-
among other things.

Teased and picked on everyday.
Not in his honors-classes,
but:
in gym,
in the lunch-room,
before and after school-

His whole personality changes entering the school-building.
He keeps to himself;
acts shy;
no longer struts with confidence.
A shell of his former,
confident self.

Ray does have some friends though:
Mike,
who’s quiet;
Tom,
who’s fat and covered with zits.
The three are good friends:
each nerds for their own reasons.

Mike’s a nerd because:
his single-mom is poor and a pothead.
Additionally,
perhaps because of his mom,
Mike has low self-esteem.
Mike has good clothes;
is normal sized;
unlike Ray:
Mike got his pubes at a normal age.
Mike’s nose is a little big,
but,
is fairly attractive.
Mike is shy,
quiet,
but among his friends that’s not true.

Tom’s considered a nerd,
because he:
was raised by a semi-senile-grandmother;
is overfed junk food;
has an alcoholic-single-mother who buys him gifts.
Tom’s a spoiled,
fat kid covered with zits.
Tom picks up nicknames:
shlep short for shleprock,
or shmeg,
short for smegma,
pronounced “shmeg”.
Tom’s a nerd,
who thinks he’s not.

Ray’s a close friend of both:
especially Mike.
They’re his crew;
loyal to one another.

Daley

The biggest bully in Ray’s life:
Chuck Daley.
Daley’s the size of a small man,
at age 12;
Ray’s the size of a small fifth-grader.
Daley’s in remedial education;
not quite dumb-enough to ride the short school-bus;
but,
quite a bit dumber than his peers.
In gym,
however,
Daley’s a demigod.
A menace on the basketball-court;
or,
any sport he chooses.
All he needs to do:
lift the ball overhead;
Ray’s helpless to defend against any shot,
or pass.

Ray and Daley share gym with Kristen:
the hottest girl in the school,
at least Ray thinks so.
She’s short as well,
but still a-bit-taller than Ray.

Ray admires Kristen,
silently,
as she’s talking to her friends:
long, brown hair,
cute, little body,
beautiful, full lips,
big, brown eyes-
A mind that matches her beauty;
I need her!-
Ray gets wood:
staring at her;
venerating her;
revering her;
worshiping her;
idolizing her-

Ray’s chip: “Don’t tell them that!”

I say: “It’s the truth Ray.
Hairless balls;
stiff as a board!”

She likes Ray though.
Ray’s always nice to her;
makes her laugh.
They’re both in the advanced classes.
In these classes,
Kristen and Ray sit next to each other:
classes arranged by alphabetical order.
Ray and Kristen soon become good friends,
at least in their honors-classes.
Ray always makes her laugh and smile.

Kristen likes Ray,
but,
because of the junior-high pecking-order,
outside these advanced classes:
Ray does not exist to her.
Outside of class,
she won’t speak to,
or even look at him.

Kristen and Daley:
boyfriend and girlfriend.
The strongest,
dumbest,
meanest boy,
and,
the smartest,
most-beautiful girl.
At age 12 their relationship is known throughout the school;
they are the class couple.
Rumors are:
Kristen’s gone to second-base with Daley,
(maybe even third-base.)
Ray does not like to think about these things.
Ray loves Kristen with all his heart.
Ray and Daley were on bad terms before the Kristen factor.
Daley has no idea:
Ray wants his girl,
or,
that his girl likes Ray,
or,
she talks to Ray at all.

Ray often meditates,
a near-constant-often-recurring affirmation,
perhaps,
incantation:
“I’d sell my soul to the devil to get that girl!”
Ray feels repentant about such thoughts afterwards;
feels guilty:
raised a good-Catholic boy.
Ray goes to church every Sunday;
believes in God:
The Father,
Son,
and Holy Spirit.
This makes his thoughts all-the-more wrong,
blasphemous;
idolatrous;
on his knees,
a human-sacrifice-in-tribute at KRISTEN’S alter;
lust;
doesn’t keep him from thinking them.
Ray accepts this guilt;
flagellates himself emotionally because of it.

Nut Sack

Hope,
I don’t get picked last again.
Please God!
Not again!
Kristen looks so-fucking-hot in her shorts.
Kristen gets picked before me;
embarrassing.
At least I get to be on Kristen’s Team.
Ray’s thoughts:
fast and furious,
before he joins Kristen’s team.
Last one picked,
even after all the girls;
not even the dignity of having his name called.
Last pick:
the ‘left-over’ just walks,
pathetically,
to the team with 14 kids.

15 kids per team:
red rubber-balls.
Daley’s feared at dodgeball.
Hurls the ball so-fucking-hard:
it’s believed by all to be uncatchable.
When Daley hits you:
the ball leaves a red welt on your flesh.

The game begins fast and furious.
PONG!
Sound of death;
sound of humiliation;
sound of the herd being thinned.
Sound of a red-rubber ball,
leaving a red welt on flesh.

She was worthless anyway:
FAT GIRL STEPHANIE;
can’t throw,
can’t catch.
Shouldn’t have worn your glasses,
now,
you’ll have to tape-em-up.
Sucks to be you.
Boo-fuckin’-hoo,
What a drama queen.

Kids are being nailed,
left and right.

PONG! PONG!
Two-more slow, fat kids,
lay off the fuckin’ Twinkies,
you’ll be a smaller target in the future.

PONG!
The reaper.
Daley never misses,
I fuckin hate him,
but,
I admire the power.

When Ray’s team’s down to six-players remaining:
Ray makes his move.

Ray loves dodgeball;
been playing it for years.
First time,
in junior-high gym,
he has ever cared about a game.
Imagining Kristen kissing Daley,
provides the spark,
motivating Ray to act.
I’ll show that motherfucker!
Ray’s not going to lose this game.
Victory or death!
This game matters.
He’s going to defeat Daley,
whether or not his team wins doesn’t matter:
as long as Daley’s knocked out.

Ray: “Huddle up!
You guys wanna win this fuckin’ game or what?”

Ray has never cussed like this before,
in front of Kristen.
Ray takes control of the remaining players.
They’re demoralized,
looking for leadership.
Ray steps in;
provides it,
without fear:
pure confidence.

Everyone: “Ya.”

Ray: “Listen up.
We have six players left;
they have ten.
Why’s that?”

“Because of Daley’s cannon!” Fitzy answers,
without hesitation.

Ray: “Right.
Our task must be to take out Daley!
Once their main cannon is gone,
the rest will be easy.
Time to take this motherfucker out!
Here’s how we do it.
There are six of us,
and 4 balls.
We have all the balls now,
so,
if we focus,
we can take him out.

Johnny,
can you throw a ball,
Daley can catch?”

Johnny: “Sure.”

Ray: “Throw an easy lob,
just out of reach,
tempting Daley to:
jump,
stretch,
and try to catch it.

Fitzy,
while Daley’s focussed on catching Johnny’s lob,
throw your ball,
hard as you-fucking-can,
right at Daley’s nads.
I want him singing soprano.

Kristen and me will throw at that same area as well.

This is important:
All 6 of us must keep our hands behind our backs,
until we run up to the line.

When we reach the line,
Johnny and Tasha,
pretend you have a ball behind your back;
when you two reach the line,
aim a fake shot,
right at his head.

Ready?”

All: “Ya!”

Ray: “Let’s roll!”

Ray had always been a leader in sixth grade;
a strategist;
lost this part of his personality inside the junior-high,
due to his new-found nerd-status.
He’s taking this part of his personality back:
because of Kristen.
All six-of-them run to the line:
hands behind their backs.

Johnny throws a perfect lob;
Daley takes the bait.
Leaps in the air;
stretches out to catch Johnny’s lob.
Johnny and Tasha fake throw;
Kristen and Ray throw their normal-speed balls;
Fitzy throws a bullet at Daley’s nutsack.

PONG!
Their king is dead!

While in the air,
Daley’s nailed in-the-balls by Fitzy,
and,
in the legs by Ray and Kristen.
The blow:
so hard,
so on target,
Daley drops Johnny’s lob.
Daley crumples:
a ball on the gym floor;
hands on his crotch;
pathetic;
fetal position.

Daley gets up,
slowly;
walks off the court.

Kids want to laugh:
no one does except the gym teacher.
Everyone’s shocked:
no kid makes a sound,
out of fear of Daley.

Ha ha!
You ape!

After their cannon’s gone,
the other-nine on Daley’s team are taken out:
easily.
Ray’s team wins:
six players remaining.

“You’re a fuckin’ genius kid!” Fitzy says to Ray.

Daley’s pissed;
never loses;
wants revenge.
He knows,
somehow:
Ray is to blame.
Every game though,
from then on:
Ray’s team takes Daley out early,
then,
picks-off Daley’s remaining teammates.
Games that follow:
won by even wider-margins.

Kristen’s laughing at Daley;
joking with Ray;
this fuels Daley’s anger.
When gym’s over,
Daley:
confronts Ray in the locker-room.
Punches Ray in the face-
My nasal bone,
cracks-
Blood gushes from Ray’s nostrils-
Can’t breathe;
choking on blood-
Daley slams Ray’s head into a metal locker.
The gym teacher breaks-up the beating;
sends Ray to the nurse’s office.

Chris

At least I took him out!
At least I impressed Kristen!
At least She spoke to me once,
outside an honors-class!
A start!
My nose is broken.
Ray’s alone with his thoughts,
with the nurse:
in the nurse’s office.
Broken nose:
two black eyes.
Nose bleeding,
profusely.

Chris is one of the school’s janitors.
Chris talks to the nurse;
puts his arm around her;
whispers something in her ear.
The nurse laughs,
then leaves the room.

Chris:
skinny,
tall,
black.
Dressed in janitor’s garb:
looks clean.
Too-clean to be a janitor.

Chris:
huge diamond-earring,
gold tooth,
gold bracelet,
gold rings,
and a watch,
says ‘Rolex’ on it.

Chris: “Sup lil prince?”

Ray: “Sup Chris?”

Chris: “Heard through the grapevine:
you caught a beatin’ after gym.
You look pretty bad.
How many times did he hit you?”

Ray: “Just once,
in the nose.
Fight fucking-over in five seconds.
My nose is broken:
that’s why my eyes are black.”

Chris: “Wanna tell me who did it?”

Ray: “No.”

Chris: “Wanna tell me why?”

Ray: “No.”

Chris: “Did you have it coming?”

Ray: “Maybe.”

Chris: “Was it over a girl?”

Ray: “Maybe.”

Chris: “Not even a single,
black-hair on your balls;
eatin’ the govament-cheese;
and,
you interested in girls?”

Ray: “At least I don’t mop up joonya-high puke for a livin’.”

Chris: “I’ll give you that.
At least I own a pair of Nikes.”

Ray: “True.
Sportin’ a Rolex too?”

Chris: “Oh this thing?
It’s fake.
Had to rush to work today:
forgot I had it on.”

Ray: “Ya right!
You just wanted to look good,
when you scrubbin’ the toilets.”

Chris: “OK lil prince.
Tell me about this girl.”

Ray: “She’s in all my classes.
See her six-hours-a-day;
she sits right next to me.
We joke around all the time.”

Chris: “Cool.
Ask her out.”

Ray: “Well I would,
but:
one she has a boyfriend,
the guy who smashed my face today;
two got no money to take her anywhere;
finally she aint interested in me that way.”

Chris: “That kid that beat you up today:
same grade as you?”

Ray: “Yup.”

Chris: “Who was it?”

Ray: “Can’t say.”

Chris: “Hold on.”
Chris sends a text;
gets one back.

Chris: Daley huh?”

Ray: “How’d you know?”

Chris: “Got my sources,
lil prince.”

Ray: “Don’t say anything to anyone,
OK?”

Chris: “Man,
I aint your-fuckin’-mom.
You don’t have to worry about that.
What you gonna do about this kid?
Daley aint gonna leave you alone.
You gonna fight him?”

Ray: “No.
Really don’t have a chance against him,
to be real.
Too-fuckin’-big.
Think I’ll just avoid him.”

Chris: “What about the girl you want?
Gonna let that go too?”

Ray: “Aint much I can do there.”

Chris: “Why’d he beat you up today?”

Ray: “I kinda humiliated him at dodgeball.”

Chris: “How?”

Ray: “Set him up;
then,
we assassinated him again and again.
Daley probably got nailed in-the-nuts four times.”

Chris laughs his ass off.
Chris: “You OK though?”

Ray: “Ya.”

Chris: “Look,
you’re a smart kid.
Avoid Daley,
stay away from his girl for now.
Laugh and joke in class with her,
but,
don’t attract anymore of his attention.
Your time will come lil prince.”

Ray likes Chris,
always seems to be around,
whenever,
Ray needs him.
Chris is Ray’s best adult-friend;
the only adult-male in Ray’s life.

Nuked

Postwar Interview 67834927 Concerning:
The Nubicon War.
For complete interview:
access the Furai Warfighting Manual.

Interviewer: “State your name,
title,
rank.”

Jonathan: “Jonathan Bowman,
Furai,
General.”

Interviewer: “Give no dates in this interview.
Tell me,
strategically,
what they did,
and,
the order they did it in.
Tell about the first day of the Gray invasion:
Day One.”

Jonathan: “Why no dates?”

Interviewer:It’s The Emperor’s direct order;
that’s all I can tell you.
This interview will be part of a highly classified-project:
a Compilation of sorts.”

Jonathan: “Early,
on a spring morning-
Can I say that?”

Interviewer: “That’s fine.”

Jonathan: “The attack starts with the satellites.
Monday.
Watching the business news;
Wall Street poised to open higher.
Good news out of Europe;
Nasdaq futures significantly spike.
Waiting for the opening bell to ring,
8:30 EST,
suddenly:
cable’s out.

Try to access the Internet:
out too.

Try to make a cell-phone call:
no signal.

Loud explosion;
earth shakes:
power’s out.

All over Earth,
coordinated attack,
all communication and GPS satellites vaporized.

All power plants hit,
nuclear reactors explode.
DC and all centers of government soon gone.”

Interviewer: “Clarify soon.”

Jonathan: “Within three minutes.
A globally-coordinated attack:
All communication,
all power,
all population-centers,
globally,
gone:
three minutes.
At 8:30 Earth:
a thriving,
global,
technologically advanced-civilization.
At 8:33:
billions dead;
most of man in the stone-age.

A lot of this eyewitness testimony will be hearsay,
after-the-fact.
I’m an eyewitness to what occurred in my Alaskan-home.
Was running a cannery in Alaska at the time,
under Furai orders.
That being said:
I’ve studied the Gray-invasion.
Know the timeline of everything that happened,
through this comprehensive study.
I was a resistance-fighter throughout the war-”

Interviewer: “That’s OK.
We have to tell the story.
Obviously,
the attack happened globally,
as such,
there were no true global-witnesses.
Just tell what you witnessed,
and what happened,
to the best of your expert-knowledge.
Hearsay is OK.
You’re the most-qualified person to give account;
that’s why The Emperor chose you.”

Jonathan: “Surviving populations are panicked;
rioting in the streets.

Sky fills with Gray-spacecraft:
some huge,
the size of cities;
some,
the size of small,
tiny fighter-jets.

Paratroopers and heavy equipment,
encased in a gelatinous substance,
hit Earth at high speed.
The objects bounce a couple of times:
warriors and equipment emerge from the goop.
Clever,
sure beats slow-moving parachutes,
probably safer too.

In three minutes:
all cell towers,
broadcasting stations,
anything,
transmitting a signal of any kind:
attacked and destroyed.
Any attempt to communicate via radio-waves yields attack.

Power plants,
water purification,
refineries,
oil drilling,
mining:
gone.

Hospitals destroyed.

New york,
Los Angeles,
Dallas,
Boston,
Chicago,
Moscow,
London,
Paris,
Mexico City,
Sidney,
Berlin-
and many others:
gone.

Then comes the mop-up operation;
this lasts approximately six hours.
All universities seized.

Their warriors and all their equipment protected by energy-shields,
capable of withstanding all bombardment,
even nuclear blasts.
Any Earth army taking-the-field is vaporized.
Microwave-weapons liquify men within tanks.
Generals and officers targeted;
only low-level soldiers laying down their arms:
spared.
Whole Earth-armies surrender largely intact.
Our weapons,
even nukes:
useless against their formidable energy-shields.
Shields cover their entire invading-army,
even their foot-soldiers.

Powerful EMP-weapons explode all over Earth;
all electronic-equipment fried.
Ships,
in-and-under the sea lose power:
floating tombs.”

EMP ElectroMagnetic Pulse also sometimes called a transient disturbance, is a short burst of electromagnetic energy. It may occur in the form of a radiated, electric or magnetic field, or conducted electrical current depending on the source.

Electromagnetic pulse is commonly abbreviated EMP, pronounced by saying the letters separately (E-M-P). EMP is generally damaging to electronic equipment.

Jonathan: “Within a span of six hours every armed-force,
on Earth:
neutered.
Every officer dead,
or,
in hiding;
every soldier disarmed and sent home.
Resistance,
after the global surrender,
is met with death and retaliation:
families and friends of resistance fighters,
murdered.

Leaflets,
if you could call them that,
dropped,
warning people:
‘disarm or be killed.’
Leaflets thin as a sheet of paper;
yet functional,
like a tablet computer.
They,
these alien-paper-iPad things,
become:
man’s only source of information.

Their warriors armed with handheld devices,
mini rail-guns.
Light weight,
firing BB-sized projectiles:
capable of destroying entire city-blocks at full power.
Even a small projectile,
traveling at near the-speed-of-light,
contains enough kinetic-energy to obliterate a fairly sizable-area-
These small projectiles are guided,
able to shoot around corners,
or,
arch over walls.
They fire with 100% accuracy.

Man was not ready for this onslaught.
Grays caught the governments of Earth with their pants down.”

Interviewer: “What about the Furai?
The Emperor?”

Jonathan:That information’s still classified.
I can say this:
The Furai were intact-enough to win this war.”

Interviewer: Explain their biggest advantage,
so,
people can understand.”

Jonathan: “When a civilization begins colonizing space,
traveling to other worlds:
this requires technology;
but,
also requires massive energy.
A civilization so primitive,
it remains on its home world,
not only lacks technology:
they lack energy.

Nubice,
the Gray emperor,
controlled an empire spanning twenty-lightyears.
They don’t just control a planet and some spacecraft;
they own stars,
lots of them.
They encase these stars creating Dyson spheres.
They have warships the size of Texas.
When the Grays attacked Earth;
they attack with the energy of many star-systems.”

Dyson sphere A Dyson sphere is a hypothetical megastructure originally described, by Freeman Dyson. Such a “sphere” would be a system of orbiting solar-power satellites, meant to completely encompass a star, and capture most or all of its energy output. Dyson speculated, that, such structures would be the logical consequence, of the long-term survival and escalating energy needs, of a technological civilization, and proposed that searching for evidence of the existence, of such structures, might lead to the detection of advanced intelligent extraterrestrial life.

Jonathan: “Earth,
in contrast,
if you were to add up all energy we could produce,
on the entire planet:
All power plants,
all oil,
all explosives,
all nuclear bombs;
even if we could direct 100% of Earth’s available energy,
(which we couldn’t,
because Earth was divided into many nations.)
All Earth’s energy,
wouldn’t add up to a fraction of what our tiny sun kicks out.
Interstellar warfare always comes down to energy.
Which civilization has energy in abundance;
energy to spare.
Imagine,
what would happen to Earth,
if Earth were to be hit with the energy of just our sun?
Our tiny,
insignificant star?
The whole Earth vaporized.

When a civilization can harness the power of many stars,
and travel with that energy stored;
that civilization can vaporize any target by directing this energy.
They can also shield themselves from any bombardment.
What’s a hydrogen bomb compared to just one star?
Our small sun releases 90-billion-megatons a second!
The entire combined nuclear arsenals,
of all nations on Earth:
30000 nuclear warheads,
added up to about 5000 megatons.
That’s it.
Enough to destroy this little marble of a planet,
Earth.
5000 megatons is not enough energy to penetrate:
even one Gray-shield,
on even one of their small craft.
Like throwing water-balloons at aircraft-carriers in the ocean;
not only could we not reach them:
(their significant ships were in high-Earth-orbit or further.)
But,
even if we could direct all Earth’s energy,
at one small frigate;
it would not penetrate their shields.

Earth,
actually had some pretty advanced-technology:
Nano-technology,
advanced computer-networks,
Strong Artificial-Intelligence-
Nubicons did not possess these things.
Nubice saw no need for AI:
Grays communicated telepathically,
a hive mind.
Nubice didn’t trust AI;
refused to develop it;
forbade it by law.”

Interviewer: “Earth routed.
Billions dead.
Billions enslaved.
A small group of resistance,
fighting a war of attrition,
with an army of Grays:
with the firepower of an empire spanning twenty-lightyears;
and,
a fleet of ships,
carrying two-hundred-million Grays.
Their foot-soldiers with shields capable of withstanding:
nuclear blasts.
How did Earth defeat such a force?

Jonathan: “The man to ask this question:
The Furai Emperor.
I’ll let Him do the honors of explaining.
Hint:
the best way to defeat a carbon enemy,
is with iron.”

Beaten

Ray tries to avoid Daley,
but can’t.
Daley waits for Ray:
before school;
after school;
in the hallways,
at the lockers,
between classes.
Daley hits Ray in the arm,
gives Ray charlie-horses,
dumps Ray’s books,
spits on Ray.

It isn’t just Daley either:
friends of Daley participate,
too.
The bullying is constant;
around every corner.

Ray sneaks into school,
sneaks around the school.

Ray asks his mom to take Karate lessons;
she says they can’t afford it.

Ray checks out self-defense books at the Quincy library;
reads them.
With no one to practice on though,
Ray does not feel confident.
Ray knows all the moves in his head;
practices in front of a mirror.

Finally,
last day of school.
Ray’s excited,
looking forward to summer vacation.
Ray hates school:
looks forward to relaxing a few months,
without fear.

All day Ray watches the clock,
finally,
3:00 P.M.
the bell rings.
Kids rushing to get out of school;
start summer vacation,
not Ray.
Ray takes his time.
Ray hopes by delaying leaving:
Time will clear away any bullies.
Ray exits the school building:
3:20.
Not a single bully anywhere;
I’m safe.
Ray begins to walk home.

Daley,
and his friends,
are waiting.
They spot him;
walk briskly towards him.

Daley: “Didn’t think you could hide from me the whole year?
Did you?
Didn’t think you could leave for summer vacation,
without catchin’-a-beatin’?
Did you?”

Ray doesn’t give Daley a chance to hit him.
Ray kicks Daley in the balls,
then runs.
Unfortunately,
the kick’s a little low:
misses Daley’s jewels,
and without a lot of force.

Daley chases Ray down.
Daley:
knocks Ray to the ground;
kicks him repeatedly with his steel-toe-work-boots;
gives Ray a concussion;
breaks Ray’s jaw.
At that moment,
Chris shows up from out of nowhere.

Chris: “Alright,
Daley that’s enough!”

Daley looks at Chris;
Daley and his friends run off.

Chris drives Ray home in his van;
drops Ray off in front of his house.

Ray goes inside,
washes the blood off;
but,
is unable to hide his injuries from his mom,
when she gets home from work.

Ray’s mom’s fine-as-a-motherfucker:
beautiful face;
beautiful body,
I mean tight.
Nice boobs.
What a fucking MILF!

MILF {ˈmilf} noun ( pl. MILFs ) vulgar slang a sexually attractive older woman, typically one who has children. Acronym: Mom I’d Like To Fuck

Ray’s chip: “Fuck you man! Quit talkin’ ‘bout my momma like that!”

I say: “But she’s fine Ray!
If I’d known your momma was so fine:
I might’ve asked her out;
then,
you’d be calling me daddy!”

“Honey what happened?” Ray’s fine-ass-mom asks.

Ray says nothing.

Ray’s mom: “Where does it hurt?”

Ray points at his jaw;
it’s swollen.

Ray’s mom: “Can you open your mouth?”

Ray can open his mouth just a little-bit.
Ray mumbles: “Not really.”

She drives Ray to the hospital.
The Doctor tells her:
Ray has a broken jaw.
Luckily it’ll not require surgery,
but,
they’ll have to wire Ray’s jaw shut.
She starts crying,
uncontrollably.
Even with makeup streaming down her face:
Ray’s mom’s still fine-as-a-motherfucker.

Ray’s chip: “Quit talkin’ about my momma!”

I say: “What you gonna do superchip?
Shut the fuck up!
I’m tellin’ this story.”

“Who did this to you!?”
Ray’s fine-ass-mom can barely speak;
out-of-breath from tears;
large-breasts:
heaving.

Ray mumbles: ”I don’t know.”

Ray’s mom: “What do you mean,
‘you don’t know’?”

I

don’t

know.
Ray mumbles without opening his mouth;
this time pausing between words,
for dramatic effect.

Ray’s mom,
hysterically: “I don’t know what to do!
I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me!”

Ray doesn’t say a word to her;
they drive home in his mom’s,
piece-of-shit,
twenty-year-old car.

That’s all for today. I’ll be releasing all three books – in their current form: CONCUSSION MAJIK LEVEL 1, GRIMOIRE 1, GRIMOIRE 2, GRIMOIRE 3 on my blog – unedited – a chapter at a time. I will give you my thoughts on each chapter, clues for future books, and answer any questions you might have. A new raw unedited chapter will be released every day at around  4 PM.

Tomorrow, I’ll begin chopping it up, adding notes and other thoughts. I would really appreciate your feedback in this process.

Please question, comment, and share, thank you.

Richard Skeet

ADDENDUM: Today, 11AM ET. This chapter was released early due to user error, the WordPress software can be obtuse. I scheduled the release for what I thought to be 4 PM on 3/13/2017; instead, the post was inadvertently scheduled for an earlier time. I’ll try to correct this error in the future. Chapter 3 will come out tomorrow, hopefully at 4 PM 🙂

 

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