pulling a train...

name Tas Keenman

outward appearances
of indian descent, late thirties to early forties, thick straight black hair, comfortable jeans, deck shoes, light green baggy t-shirt and bargain brand brown shoulder bag worn with the strap across her body. nothing showy or obvious about her, her best feature's her hair which is pulled back in a simple pony tail.

insider information
she loves her english husband and three children, but finds her mother-in-law impossibly demanding. nothing seems to please her and Tas is on the verge of losing her patience. she doesn't realise her mother-in-law is jealous of their relationship (her own husband died in a works accident when their son was two) and is scared of being abandoned by her only son.

what she is thinking/feeling
regret that her mother-in-law is so difficult to love and respect; anger with herself that she's been made a doormat; trying not to let the anger begin to boil in her stomach, and intending to keep the promise made to her husband - to ask her m.i.l to move in with them.
 
name Bill Stynchcomb Sr.

outward appearance
Wheelchair bound. Wearing frayed jeans, white socks and sandals

insider information
His prostate is the size of a softball. He'll be dead in 6 months. Receives painkillers on a regular schedule. These are administered via rectal suppositories, which he enjoys, and this confuses him..

what he is thinking/doing
Yells at his son not to drop the wine box, he paid good money for that shit! Nudges the blowsy blonde bombshell to his left, asks her if she likes to party. Turns the charm up to 11, but his teeth are yellow.
 
name Vernetta Funkenstein, CNA

outward appearance
Certified Nursing Assistant. Hits the gym six times a week, and it shows.

insider information
Regularly substitutes the morphine suppositories she's supposed to be giving to that wheelchair-bound racist jackass with Tylenol gelcaps. As long as something goes up his ass, he doesn't care. The money she makes selling the morphine on the side will pay for that new mountain bike.

what she is thinking/doing
Gives a nod of recognition to the tall chick from her kickboxing class. Rams the wheelchair she's pushing directly into the shin of the homeless bum with the Red Solo cup to move his goatsmelling ass out of the handicap area. Makes a silent prayer that the racist jackass she's pushing won't notice the Indian chick and start another race-baiting rant in public.
 
Name
Mike Norquet

Outward appearance
Mid-thirties, in shape, clean cut appearance. Wearing a dark, off-the-rack suit that looks decent enough, but you can tell it's off-the-rack. Instead of proper dress shoes, he wears a pair of black sneakers.

Inside information
Played basketball in high school. In 10th grade, he stole the ball and made a half-court shot that won the game just as time expired. No, he's not some glory-boy that thinks things like that are important, but its still pretty cool.

What they are thinking/doing
On his way to his 97 year old great aunt's funeral. "Inconsiderate old battle axe!" he thinks. "What a time to die! I'm wasting a personal day on this!" He then smiles to himself as he remembers that the first time he heard the phrase "old battle axe" was from in fact from his aunt, in reference to an even older relative of theirs. Mike looks down at his shoes. "I probably should have worn dress shoes, but no one will notice, right? These look okay."
 
in less than 250 words, write a passenger on a tube train (underground), broken up between the headlines of


Name
Trisha Jenson​

outward appearance
She smells of alcohol and indolence, hunched over in her seat as if it's impossible to raise herself upright. She is 38, but looks twice that. Her clothes are wrinkled and hang off of her thin frame - they look like they've been laying in a crumpled heap on the floor for days, if not weeks. her entire body is a dull grey. Sweat shirt over sweat pants and a sickly pallor with sunken cheeks.​

inside information
Trisha has never had a drink in her whole life. She works at a shelter and one of her kids hasn't been seen in a few weeks. She hasn't been sleeping.​

what they are thinking/doing
There's an irritating buzz that she can't seem to stop hearing. Her body twitches as she struggles to stay awake so as not to miss her stop. She twiddles her thumbs, shuffles her feet, and moves her head from side to side. She thinks she's moving quickly, but in reality looks listless, like every movement is an effort that she almost cannot repeat.​
 
name betty sue
outward appearance betty sue wears a hat and doesn't look at strangers. she finds her way around watching foot patterns on the floors. bodies around her effect her space. surges of energy pass her by. movements in her microcosm recorded onto skin. you wouldn't remember what she was wearing or who she was with. she just became a part of the seat looked over.
inside information betty sue is pumped full serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitors. her synapsis are coated in goo.
what they are thinking/doing betty sue counts the tunnel lights through the windows and listens to the signs in the tracks.
 
name John Coleman

outward appearance
Greasy hair, dyed jet black. Plaid shirt, striped shorts, black wraparound glasses, white cane.

insider information
He's not really legally blind, but the act allows him to move to the head of the line most times.

what he is thinking/doing
He steps into the car, sniffs the air with an exaggerated motion, and announces loudly "it smells like gin and coloreds in here!". The old man in the wheelchair cackles with glee. Coleman places his hand on the hunched woman's shoulder, sniffs and says "Well, here's the gin!" He sweeps his cane outward, prodding the athletic black nurse in the thigh. She knocks it away, threatening to stick his cane up his white ass if he tries that again. "...and heeeeere's the colored!" he says, moving back ever so slightly. "Sorry about that, sweetie, no harm done, right? You wouldn't beat up a cripple, would you? Actually you probably would. Steal an old blind man's wallet, that's what your kind does. You're a strong one...why do I think you weren't born a woman?"
 
Bob is scarily good at this.

Thank you darling, twas getting a bit put out by the lack of feedback, positive or negative. This has really got the creative juices stoked. And bronzeage and JackAssJim and Disgustipated have yet to make their triumphant appearances too! :cool:

:cool:
 
Thank you darling, twas getting a bit put out by the lack of feedback, positive or negative. This has really got the creative juices stoked. And bronzeage and JackAssJim and Disgustipated have yet to make their triumphant appearances too! :cool:

:cool:

Nooooo I've enjoyed this entire thread immensely; especially your posts. I bet Disgustipated could come up with something hilarious. I'm going to text him so he can't pretend he never saw this.
 
Name: Helena Argyris


Outward appearance: Early 40's, long dark hair pulled up in a bun, her eyes are the color of a midnight sky. Her skin is almost porcelain, contrasting her hair and eyes in a most flattering, yet unconventional manner. She carries 20 pounds more than she'd like, but knows how to camouflage the extra weight with the right clothes.

Inside information: Helena has just come off her 40 hour weekend where she's slept in the call room between her shifts of two sixteens and an eight. It's grueling but allows her the week off to do as she pleases. This weekend was the full moon and the Emergency Dept was chaotic; full of everything from cold with sore throats, to crazy to heart attacks, and a couple TripleA's.

What she is doing: As she entered the car, she notices a couple of scurvy-looking types giving her the eye. She sends up a prayer of thanks that she changed out of her scrubs and into civilian clothes before leaving the hospital. Some men, and women for that matter, just can't seem to resist the scrubs, and will try to angle a free medical exam...sometime the conventional kind, sometimes a less than conventional type. Today, she's just not in the mood for such shenanigans, pulls a textbook out of her bag and begins reading, hoping her body language is enough to keep them on their side of the car.
 
Faye Dunaway.

On her way to the footy. Red, green and white all over because she's a fucking Bunnies supporter since way back. She slips on an obviously well maintained platform and rolls her eyes at the thought of where all that tax she's been paying is really going, and then decides that's a perfect excuse for a sickie tomorrow. "Cunts" she says to herself whilst blazing up a ciggie.
 
name Jim Kennedy, USN retired.

outward appearance
Grey hair, semi-slicked back into a sorta-pompadour. Scorching case of active herpes.

insider information
Retired Navy, just spent $1500 to attend a pickup artist seminar. He knows he'll be rejected by 30+ women for each one he scores with.

what he is thinking/doing
"Target rich environment" he sniffs. "Lots of quality pussy here". He confidently strides up to the dark haired 40-something with the enormous rack (7.5 rating). "My name is Kennedy, Jim Kennedy, I was named after a president!" He uses his tried-and-true opener. She nods politely and says "I'm Helena". Jackpot! She's INTERESTED!

He says "Helena? As in Helena Montana? I'm a big fan of your sister Hannah! Hannah Montana! Get it? I can see a family resemblance!" She gives him a withering smile. "Listen Jim, you don't have to be such a jackass....seriously". Jim smiles, but inside he wilts. He looks up desperately, sees a younger chick with purple hair (4.5 but pussy is pussy) smiling at him, and quickly excuses himself. Helena was too damned old anyway....
 
Name Christopher Stone

Outward appearance
White male, mid-30's, around 5'9" and 165 pounds. He has sandy blonde hair and is wearing a non-descript outfit that looks like he just took it off a mannequin from an Eddie Bauer store. Not the type that anyone would notice.

Insider information
Physically and emotionally abused by both parents, Christopher has tremendous anger for the society he lives in and that he feels, let him down and didn't protect him.

What he is thinking/doing
His eyes scan the train car, slowly and deliberately. He enjoys the fact that everyone views him as a commuter, and not as the hunter that he is. He is almost invisible to them. His heart starts beating faster, as he scans the people on the train again. The power he feels as he chooses his victim is intoxicating. It could be someone who makes eye contact with him, a pair of shoes he doesn't like, a mannerism that annoys him - which will determine who is about to be stalked, and eventually become his victim. He relishes their ignorance of the danger he poses to the chosen one. He focuses on slowing down his breathing and controlling his rapid heartbeat. He scans the crowd yet again. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as his target is revealed to him. The erection will come later, when he does the actual killing.
 
"Hiya Bill! I'm Heather." the bleach blonde said to the old man in the wheelchair. She smiled back at him flirtatiously, not at all put-off by his advanced age or diseased appearance. She could tell he wouldn't be around for too long which would make him an easier mark than some of the men she'd preyed on in the past.

Times had gotten pretty hard recently for young Heather Huffman after her 60 year old boyfriend passed away leaving everything to his prodigal daughter. Forced to take up a job waiting tables at one of the cafes in Central London, she quickly learned that tourists didn't tip as well and there weren't that many regulars for her to earn enough to even pay rent. At only 22, she was too young and pretty to continue existing in this manner, she told herself.

Heather leaned forward pretending to be completely enthralled by Bill's weak attempts to charm her while flashing him her modest cleavage. She is so focused on drawing him in that she has failed to notice that he is not alone. But Bill's son isn't the one she really needs to worry about because unknown to her sitting not two feet away is Mike who's decided that today is the day he would make Heather his, once and for all.
 
name Julie Babinoski

outward appearance
Dowager with large hips, meant for breeding, as God intended. Holds a large stack of Chick anti-abortion tracts in her left hand.

insider information
Prefers to stand, as she recently had her most recent crop of anal warts surgically burned off, which made it near impossible to sit comfortably. The warts were a grim and just punishment from God for her sluttish ways before she found Christ.

what she is thinking/doing
Moving with quick practiced motions to each woman in the car: get right up next to them, invade their personal space, press a tract into their hand, say "abortion kills a beating heart...please don't kill your baby", and move on to the next one.

She's been doing this for years. She's momentarily non-plussed when one of the heathen women she's been witnessing to wells up in tears and starts crying softly.

Julie sits down next to her and places her hand upon the woman. She coos softly "oh...you killed your baby, didn't you? Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to ponder your mistake..." Julie takes a deep breath and spits in the woman's face... "in HELL!"

At the other end of the car, the Native American with the burning eyes looks up briefly from the couple he has been staring at and nods imperceptably in approval at Julie.
 
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name Luke Dickinson

outward appearance
Swagger to spare. Large bulge in his pants makes it a statistical near-certainty he has the biggest caucasian cock on the train.

insider information
Has a plastic baggy full of roofies in his front pocket.

what he is thinking/doing
Sits next to a guy with a grey pompadour and nods. "Lot of pussy on this train." says the grey haired guy. "Lot of easy pussy" Luke replies. "See that blonde with the huge tits? I fucked her." "No WAY!" Grey-hair is impressed. "Way!" Luke replies. "Hey GARNETTA! Tell the good man here how I fucked you!"

Garnetta sneers "It was late, I was drunk, and it was only one time!".

Grey pompadour is really impressed, Luke can tell. "See the girl in the black dress over there?" Luke continues. "I fucked her too. Her name is Brianna, Brenda, something with a 'B'"... recalling how it took two roofies...TWO!...to get the slut to say yes...
 
name Luke Dickinson

outward appearance
Swagger to spare. Large bulge in his pants makes it a statistical near-certainty he has the biggest caucasian cock on the train.

insider information
Has a plastic baggy full of roofies in his front pocket.

what he is thinking/doing
Sits next to a guy with a grey pompadour and nods. "Lot of pussy on this train." says the grey haired guy. "Lot of easy pussy" Luke replies. "See that blonde with the huge tits? I fucked her." "No WAY!" Grey-hair is impressed. "Way!" Luke replies. "Hey GARNETTA! Tell the good man here how I fucked you!"

Garnetta sneers "It was late, I was drunk, and it was only one time!".

Grey pompadour is really impressed, Luke can tell. "See the girl in the black dress over there?" Luke continues. "I fucked her too. Her name is Brianna, Brenda, something with a 'B'"... recalling how it took two roofies...TWO!...to get the slut to say yes...

:D *Dies*
 
For those who are having a hard time keeping up with who is who in this universe...
  1. Edgar Worsthley - eyer
  2. Garnetta Boobsby - Garnate
  3. Robert Downs - RobDownSouth
  4. Detective Sergeant Amos Moody - Balladeer08
  5. Enos Bigglesworth - Vetteman
  6. Kathrine Bate, PhD - kbate
  7. Susan Dolfolino - Dolf
  8. Kwala "Bear" Washington - Koalabear
  9. Martin McGee - Garbage Can
  10. Susanna Sweets - Wings
  11. Bill Stynchcomb Jr. - Vatican Assassin
  12. Bill Stynchcomb Sr. - Ishmael
  13. Tas Keenman - Subdued Passion
  14. Vernetta Funkenstein, CNA - LadyFunkenstein
  15. John Coleman - Amicus
  16. Helena Argyris - Bidin~Time
  17. Jim Kennedy - JackAssJim/TheJAJ
  18. Julie Babinoski - JulyBaby04
  19. Luke Dickinson - Disgustipated
  20. Quincy Bates - Queery/Queerbait

And they just keep a-coming! :D
 
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For those who are having a hard time keeping up with who is who in this universe...
  1. Edgar Worsthley - eyer
  2. Garnetta Boobsby - Garnate
  3. Robert Downs - RobDownSouth
  4. Detective Sergeant Amos Moody - Balladeer08
  5. Enos Bigglesworth - Vetteman
  6. Kathrine Bate, PhD - kbate
  7. Susan Dolfolino - Dolf
  8. Kwala "Bear" Washington - Koalabear
  9. Martin McGee - Garbage Can
  10. Susanna Sweets - Wings
  11. Bill Stynchcomb Jr. - Vatican Assassin
  12. Bill Stynchcomb Sr. - Ishmael
  13. Tas Keenman - Subdued Passion
  14. Vernetta Funkenstein, CNA - LadyFunkenstein
  15. John Coleman - Amicus
  16. Helena Argyris - Bidin~Time
  17. Jim Kennedy - JackAssJim/TheJAJ
  18. Julie Babinoski - JulyBaby04
  19. Luke Dickinson - Disgustipated

And they just keep a-coming! :D
*Thumbs up*
 
name. Robert D.S Houston IV

outward appearance
Sports a knowing smirk, like he's about to let his fellow travelers in on an amusing secret about the train owner, one Lorel Manuche. Tanned dome shining from a recent application of Simoniz. Neatly trimmed goatee adding to his slightly Satanic mien.

inside information
Although a liberal Democrat through and through, he participates in a weekly bridge game with the George Bushes and has contributed a hefty sum to the Rick Perry campaign to hedge his bets and stay in the good graces of his wealthy social circle.

what he is thinking/doing
Looking around the train car for his next likely girlfriend, preferable a southern blonde in her thirties. Nods to the Navy man across the aisle, thinking he'd make a pretty good wingman at the local gentlemen's club, Tits of Lit's. He fixes his gaze on a husky, swarthy Native American looking fellow, and mouths the words 'Obama won, so put that in your peace pipe and suck on it.'

His shorts tighten a little as he recalls that sweet Georgia peach he was munching on last night at the Motel Six.
 
name. Robert D.S Houston IV

outward appearance
Sports a knowing smirk, like he's about to let his fellow travelers in on an amusing secret about the train owner, one Lorel Manuche. Tanned dome shining from a recent application of Simoniz. Neatly trimmed goatee adding to his slightly Satanic mien.

inside information
Although a liberal Democrat through and through, he participates in a weekly bridge game with the George Bushes and has contributed a hefty sum to the Rick Perry campaign to hedge his bets and stay in the good graces of his wealthy social circle.

what he is thinking/doing
Looking around the train car for his next likely girlfriend, preferable a southern blonde in her thirties. Nods to the Navy man across the aisle, thinking he'd make a pretty good wingman at the local gentlemen's club, Tits of Lit's. He fixes his gaze on a husky, swarthy Native American looking fellow, and mouths the words 'Obama won, so put that in your peace pipe and suck on it.'

His shorts tighten a little as he recalls that sweet Georgia peach he was munching on last night at the Motel Six.

Hahaaaaa
 
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