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Another short story. It's in two parts, this is the first. I haven't started the second part yet. The end is strange but Part Two will hopefully give it some more sense. I'm not really fussed on this story actually, I thought it would be better. Ah well. Post your comments as usual please, and look out for Part 2.
Johnnie Dafner walked out of “Louie’s Custom Tailoring”. He was admiring his new three piece suit that old Louie had made specially for him. A month ago Johnnie wouldn’t have been able to even afford one of the buttons on the shirt, because he was one of the many American men that were unemployed at that time. The 1930’s were a bad year for Uncle Sam, thought Johnnie. It was lucky he came into some unexpected wealth.
Johnnie was smart guy, smarter than most that he knew. That didn’t mean much though, as most guys he knew had trouble spelling their own name. Still, Johnnie was smart, and he knew it. He was one of those guys though, that, instead of using his intelligence for the good of mankind, would use it to plan a bank heist. Johnnie didn’t go in for a bank heist though to gain his wealth. Johnnie went in for murder. Yes, that’s right, murder. Johnnie was a cold hearted killer, cold hearted enough to kill his own wife who dearly loved him in order to get a few measly bucks out of her life insurance. It was easy for Johnnie. Smothering her with a pillow was no trouble at all, and he didn’t request an autopsy. His wife had a bad heart all her life, even though she was only thirty, and her doctor knew this. Therefore, no-one was shocked by her death.
Johnnie was most impressed by his new tie, idly twiddling and looking at it as he walked down high street. It was a loud, garish tie that clashed badly with his suit, but Johnnie was ignorant of this fact. He never had any dress sense. The tie had Johnnie’s initials imprinted on it with gold capital letters on the front - J.D. It was the centre on a pink and light blue background, with little swirls of silver.
Walking further down high street, Johnnie spotted the new “Hotel Deluxe” - a new swank hotel (in Johnnies eyes) that was for toffs. I must see what this place is like, he told himself, and what I’ve been missing out on all these years. He casually sauntered into the lobby, past the huge gold rimmed doors that were opened by a tall doorman, and up to the reception desk. Behind it was a small shrew like man with a nervous disposition, wide black glasses and a small quiff of black hair. He gulped nervously and took a short look of disgust at Johnnie’s tie as he walked up.
“Hello, there, um Sir, and er, Welcome to the em, Hotel Deluxe. How can I be of er, service?” he squeaked out.
“I want a room rat boy. What the hell else would I want?” spat Johnnie. Being tactful was never one of his strong points.
“Well, sir we have em, yes, a few rooms left. Ah yes, here is, er, ah yes, yes, Room 104, its free, ah quite a nice room, er, telephone, a king size bed, a view of the city, a -
“Shut up you loser,” spat Johnnie. “If I’d wanted a description I’d have asked for one. Just give me the key, and tell me how much.”
“Um, yes, its $14 dollars, that includes breakfast, er , Sir.”
Johnnie wrote a cheque, and handed it to the clerk. “Key.”
“Here it is sir. Have a pleasant stay.” the clerk called after Johnnie as he strode confidently across the thick purple carpet towards the silver and gold elevator doors. At it, a small bellboy stood. He had a satin suit on and a cap with a strap set slightly askew. “Floor Sir,?” he asked.
“10.” replied Johnnie.
He stepped inside and the elevator door clanged as the bellboy closed it. Slowly the elevator went up, until it chimed at 10.
Johnnie stepped out, as was going to walk down the corridor when he heard a small, purposeful cough behind him. Turning around, he saw the bellboy.
“Oh, I know what you want. You want a tip, don’t you?”
The boy nodded.
“Well, here’s a tip for you - take off that cap, other wise you look a like homosexual from one of those bars. Happy now you little swine?!” The boy nodded.
Johnnie got to his room, took a look around, and saw it was to his satisfaction. Still annoyed, for no particular reason, (it was his temperament) he kicked a footstool against the wall. It cracked a nearly broke off a leg, and also left an ugly black smear on the bright white paint of the wall. Losing interest, he looked around the room. One bed rested in the corner with a dark green duvet. A desk was beside it, no doubt containing a Gideon Bible. A chair was beside that. On the desk was a telephone, with a black handle and gold earpiece. Everything about this hotel was friggin’ gold, thought Johnnie. Of to his left was a large walk in wardrobe, taller than Johnnie was. To the right of that was the en suite, with a large luxurious bath, a small white toilet and a white marble sink with - wait for it - gold taps. Johnnie closed the door and sat on the bed, taking off the top part of his suit, as well as the tie. He gazed at the time for a while, thinking how magnificent it looked. Strong too he thought. He wrapped half of it around each hand and pulled. It didn’t even give the sound a stitch ripping. I wonder, thought Johnnie, could it take my weight. He walked over to the wardrobe, and opened it. The bar that you put hangers on was to far up to reach, Johnnie needed something to step on. Lifting up a foot stool from the ground, he stood on it and tied the bottom of the tie to the bar at the top of the wardrobe. Johnnies idea was to wrap the tie under his armpits then kick the stool away and see if it the tie snapped. Before Johnnie could get the tie off from around his neck, something happened. The stool, which had been kicked against the wall, snapped off an already weak leg. It collapsed, leaving Johnnie dangling from the wardrobe bar with his tie wrapped around his neck. It got tighter and tighter, and Johnnies face turned from purple to blue to black. In less than a minute, Johnnie Dafner’s life was over.
Johnnie Dafner walked out of “Louie’s Custom Tailoring”. He was admiring his new three piece suit that old Louie had made specially for him. A month ago Johnnie wouldn’t have been able to even afford one of the buttons on the shirt, because he was one of the many American men that were unemployed at that time. The 1930’s were a bad year for Uncle Sam, thought Johnnie. It was lucky he came into some unexpected wealth.
Johnnie was smart guy, smarter than most that he knew. That didn’t mean much though, as most guys he knew had trouble spelling their own name. Still, Johnnie was smart, and he knew it. He was one of those guys though, that, instead of using his intelligence for the good of mankind, would use it to plan a bank heist. Johnnie didn’t go in for a bank heist though to gain his wealth. Johnnie went in for murder. Yes, that’s right, murder. Johnnie was a cold hearted killer, cold hearted enough to kill his own wife who dearly loved him in order to get a few measly bucks out of her life insurance. It was easy for Johnnie. Smothering her with a pillow was no trouble at all, and he didn’t request an autopsy. His wife had a bad heart all her life, even though she was only thirty, and her doctor knew this. Therefore, no-one was shocked by her death.
Johnnie was most impressed by his new tie, idly twiddling and looking at it as he walked down high street. It was a loud, garish tie that clashed badly with his suit, but Johnnie was ignorant of this fact. He never had any dress sense. The tie had Johnnie’s initials imprinted on it with gold capital letters on the front - J.D. It was the centre on a pink and light blue background, with little swirls of silver.
Walking further down high street, Johnnie spotted the new “Hotel Deluxe” - a new swank hotel (in Johnnies eyes) that was for toffs. I must see what this place is like, he told himself, and what I’ve been missing out on all these years. He casually sauntered into the lobby, past the huge gold rimmed doors that were opened by a tall doorman, and up to the reception desk. Behind it was a small shrew like man with a nervous disposition, wide black glasses and a small quiff of black hair. He gulped nervously and took a short look of disgust at Johnnie’s tie as he walked up.
“Hello, there, um Sir, and er, Welcome to the em, Hotel Deluxe. How can I be of er, service?” he squeaked out.
“I want a room rat boy. What the hell else would I want?” spat Johnnie. Being tactful was never one of his strong points.
“Well, sir we have em, yes, a few rooms left. Ah yes, here is, er, ah yes, yes, Room 104, its free, ah quite a nice room, er, telephone, a king size bed, a view of the city, a -
“Shut up you loser,” spat Johnnie. “If I’d wanted a description I’d have asked for one. Just give me the key, and tell me how much.”
“Um, yes, its $14 dollars, that includes breakfast, er , Sir.”
Johnnie wrote a cheque, and handed it to the clerk. “Key.”
“Here it is sir. Have a pleasant stay.” the clerk called after Johnnie as he strode confidently across the thick purple carpet towards the silver and gold elevator doors. At it, a small bellboy stood. He had a satin suit on and a cap with a strap set slightly askew. “Floor Sir,?” he asked.
“10.” replied Johnnie.
He stepped inside and the elevator door clanged as the bellboy closed it. Slowly the elevator went up, until it chimed at 10.
Johnnie stepped out, as was going to walk down the corridor when he heard a small, purposeful cough behind him. Turning around, he saw the bellboy.
“Oh, I know what you want. You want a tip, don’t you?”
The boy nodded.
“Well, here’s a tip for you - take off that cap, other wise you look a like homosexual from one of those bars. Happy now you little swine?!” The boy nodded.
Johnnie got to his room, took a look around, and saw it was to his satisfaction. Still annoyed, for no particular reason, (it was his temperament) he kicked a footstool against the wall. It cracked a nearly broke off a leg, and also left an ugly black smear on the bright white paint of the wall. Losing interest, he looked around the room. One bed rested in the corner with a dark green duvet. A desk was beside it, no doubt containing a Gideon Bible. A chair was beside that. On the desk was a telephone, with a black handle and gold earpiece. Everything about this hotel was friggin’ gold, thought Johnnie. Of to his left was a large walk in wardrobe, taller than Johnnie was. To the right of that was the en suite, with a large luxurious bath, a small white toilet and a white marble sink with - wait for it - gold taps. Johnnie closed the door and sat on the bed, taking off the top part of his suit, as well as the tie. He gazed at the time for a while, thinking how magnificent it looked. Strong too he thought. He wrapped half of it around each hand and pulled. It didn’t even give the sound a stitch ripping. I wonder, thought Johnnie, could it take my weight. He walked over to the wardrobe, and opened it. The bar that you put hangers on was to far up to reach, Johnnie needed something to step on. Lifting up a foot stool from the ground, he stood on it and tied the bottom of the tie to the bar at the top of the wardrobe. Johnnies idea was to wrap the tie under his armpits then kick the stool away and see if it the tie snapped. Before Johnnie could get the tie off from around his neck, something happened. The stool, which had been kicked against the wall, snapped off an already weak leg. It collapsed, leaving Johnnie dangling from the wardrobe bar with his tie wrapped around his neck. It got tighter and tighter, and Johnnies face turned from purple to blue to black. In less than a minute, Johnnie Dafner’s life was over.
Thanks for the feedback.
Yeah, I don't think you should make another part, but maybe you could make the story a bit longer. Good luck with your other stories, I have to go now. Cya
;)
;)
I don't know, but I don't think so. I have some other ideas for other stories.
Part 2 is also very good, are you going to make a third?
I already have on the one saved at home, but I'm not going to re-post it, no point. Now read part 2, and tell me what you think.
Good story, go over it several times though and change any spelling or punctuation mistakes...
Another short story. It's in two parts, this is the first. I haven't started the second part yet. The end is strange but Part Two will hopefully give it some more sense. I'm not really fussed on this story actually, I thought it would be better. Ah well. Post your comments as usual please, and look out for Part 2.
Johnnie Dafner walked out of “Louie’s Custom Tailoring”. He was admiring his new three piece suit that old Louie had made specially for him. A month ago Johnnie wouldn’t have been able to even afford one of the buttons on the shirt, because he was one of the many American men that were unemployed at that time. The 1930’s were a bad year for Uncle Sam, thought Johnnie. It was lucky he came into some unexpected wealth.
Johnnie was smart guy, smarter than most that he knew. That didn’t mean much though, as most guys he knew had trouble spelling their own name. Still, Johnnie was smart, and he knew it. He was one of those guys though, that, instead of using his intelligence for the good of mankind, would use it to plan a bank heist. Johnnie didn’t go in for a bank heist though to gain his wealth. Johnnie went in for murder. Yes, that’s right, murder. Johnnie was a cold hearted killer, cold hearted enough to kill his own wife who dearly loved him in order to get a few measly bucks out of her life insurance. It was easy for Johnnie. Smothering her with a pillow was no trouble at all, and he didn’t request an autopsy. His wife had a bad heart all her life, even though she was only thirty, and her doctor knew this. Therefore, no-one was shocked by her death.
Johnnie was most impressed by his new tie, idly twiddling and looking at it as he walked down high street. It was a loud, garish tie that clashed badly with his suit, but Johnnie was ignorant of this fact. He never had any dress sense. The tie had Johnnie’s initials imprinted on it with gold capital letters on the front - J.D. It was the centre on a pink and light blue background, with little swirls of silver.
Walking further down high street, Johnnie spotted the new “Hotel Deluxe” - a new swank hotel (in Johnnies eyes) that was for toffs. I must see what this place is like, he told himself, and what I’ve been missing out on all these years. He casually sauntered into the lobby, past the huge gold rimmed doors that were opened by a tall doorman, and up to the reception desk. Behind it was a small shrew like man with a nervous disposition, wide black glasses and a small quiff of black hair. He gulped nervously and took a short look of disgust at Johnnie’s tie as he walked up.
“Hello, there, um Sir, and er, Welcome to the em, Hotel Deluxe. How can I be of er, service?” he squeaked out.
“I want a room rat boy. What the hell else would I want?” spat Johnnie. Being tactful was never one of his strong points.
“Well, sir we have em, yes, a few rooms left. Ah yes, here is, er, ah yes, yes, Room 104, its free, ah quite a nice room, er, telephone, a king size bed, a view of the city, a -
“Shut up you loser,” spat Johnnie. “If I’d wanted a description I’d have asked for one. Just give me the key, and tell me how much.”
“Um, yes, its $14 dollars, that includes breakfast, er , Sir.”
Johnnie wrote a cheque, and handed it to the clerk. “Key.”
“Here it is sir. Have a pleasant stay.” the clerk called after Johnnie as he strode confidently across the thick purple carpet towards the silver and gold elevator doors. At it, a small bellboy stood. He had a satin suit on and a cap with a strap set slightly askew. “Floor Sir,?” he asked.
“10.” replied Johnnie.
He stepped inside and the elevator door clanged as the bellboy closed it. Slowly the elevator went up, until it chimed at 10.
Johnnie stepped out, as was going to walk down the corridor when he heard a small, purposeful cough behind him. Turning around, he saw the bellboy.
“Oh, I know what you want. You want a tip, don’t you?”
The boy nodded.
“Well, here’s a tip for you - take off that cap, other wise you look a like homosexual from one of those bars. Happy now you little swine?!” The boy nodded.
Johnnie got to his room, took a look around, and saw it was to his satisfaction. Still annoyed, for no particular reason, (it was his temperament) he kicked a footstool against the wall. It cracked a nearly broke off a leg, and also left an ugly black smear on the bright white paint of the wall. Losing interest, he looked around the room. One bed rested in the corner with a dark green duvet. A desk was beside it, no doubt containing a Gideon Bible. A chair was beside that. On the desk was a telephone, with a black handle and gold earpiece. Everything about this hotel was friggin’ gold, thought Johnnie. Of to his left was a large walk in wardrobe, taller than Johnnie was. To the right of that was the en suite, with a large luxurious bath, a small white toilet and a white marble sink with - wait for it - gold taps. Johnnie closed the door and sat on the bed, taking off the top part of his suit, as well as the tie. He gazed at the time for a while, thinking how magnificent it looked. Strong too he thought. He wrapped half of it around each hand and pulled. It didn’t even give the sound a stitch ripping. I wonder, thought Johnnie, could it take my weight. He walked over to the wardrobe, and opened it. The bar that you put hangers on was to far up to reach, Johnnie needed something to step on. Lifting up a foot stool from the ground, he stood on it and tied the bottom of the tie to the bar at the top of the wardrobe. Johnnies idea was to wrap the tie under his armpits then kick the stool away and see if it the tie snapped. Before Johnnie could get the tie off from around his neck, something happened. The stool, which had been kicked against the wall, snapped off an already weak leg. It collapsed, leaving Johnnie dangling from the wardrobe bar with his tie wrapped around his neck. It got tighter and tighter, and Johnnies face turned from purple to blue to black. In less than a minute, Johnnie Dafner’s life was over.
Johnnie Dafner walked out of “Louie’s Custom Tailoring”. He was admiring his new three piece suit that old Louie had made specially for him. A month ago Johnnie wouldn’t have been able to even afford one of the buttons on the shirt, because he was one of the many American men that were unemployed at that time. The 1930’s were a bad year for Uncle Sam, thought Johnnie. It was lucky he came into some unexpected wealth.
Johnnie was smart guy, smarter than most that he knew. That didn’t mean much though, as most guys he knew had trouble spelling their own name. Still, Johnnie was smart, and he knew it. He was one of those guys though, that, instead of using his intelligence for the good of mankind, would use it to plan a bank heist. Johnnie didn’t go in for a bank heist though to gain his wealth. Johnnie went in for murder. Yes, that’s right, murder. Johnnie was a cold hearted killer, cold hearted enough to kill his own wife who dearly loved him in order to get a few measly bucks out of her life insurance. It was easy for Johnnie. Smothering her with a pillow was no trouble at all, and he didn’t request an autopsy. His wife had a bad heart all her life, even though she was only thirty, and her doctor knew this. Therefore, no-one was shocked by her death.
Johnnie was most impressed by his new tie, idly twiddling and looking at it as he walked down high street. It was a loud, garish tie that clashed badly with his suit, but Johnnie was ignorant of this fact. He never had any dress sense. The tie had Johnnie’s initials imprinted on it with gold capital letters on the front - J.D. It was the centre on a pink and light blue background, with little swirls of silver.
Walking further down high street, Johnnie spotted the new “Hotel Deluxe” - a new swank hotel (in Johnnies eyes) that was for toffs. I must see what this place is like, he told himself, and what I’ve been missing out on all these years. He casually sauntered into the lobby, past the huge gold rimmed doors that were opened by a tall doorman, and up to the reception desk. Behind it was a small shrew like man with a nervous disposition, wide black glasses and a small quiff of black hair. He gulped nervously and took a short look of disgust at Johnnie’s tie as he walked up.
“Hello, there, um Sir, and er, Welcome to the em, Hotel Deluxe. How can I be of er, service?” he squeaked out.
“I want a room rat boy. What the hell else would I want?” spat Johnnie. Being tactful was never one of his strong points.
“Well, sir we have em, yes, a few rooms left. Ah yes, here is, er, ah yes, yes, Room 104, its free, ah quite a nice room, er, telephone, a king size bed, a view of the city, a -
“Shut up you loser,” spat Johnnie. “If I’d wanted a description I’d have asked for one. Just give me the key, and tell me how much.”
“Um, yes, its $14 dollars, that includes breakfast, er , Sir.”
Johnnie wrote a cheque, and handed it to the clerk. “Key.”
“Here it is sir. Have a pleasant stay.” the clerk called after Johnnie as he strode confidently across the thick purple carpet towards the silver and gold elevator doors. At it, a small bellboy stood. He had a satin suit on and a cap with a strap set slightly askew. “Floor Sir,?” he asked.
“10.” replied Johnnie.
He stepped inside and the elevator door clanged as the bellboy closed it. Slowly the elevator went up, until it chimed at 10.
Johnnie stepped out, as was going to walk down the corridor when he heard a small, purposeful cough behind him. Turning around, he saw the bellboy.
“Oh, I know what you want. You want a tip, don’t you?”
The boy nodded.
“Well, here’s a tip for you - take off that cap, other wise you look a like homosexual from one of those bars. Happy now you little swine?!” The boy nodded.
Johnnie got to his room, took a look around, and saw it was to his satisfaction. Still annoyed, for no particular reason, (it was his temperament) he kicked a footstool against the wall. It cracked a nearly broke off a leg, and also left an ugly black smear on the bright white paint of the wall. Losing interest, he looked around the room. One bed rested in the corner with a dark green duvet. A desk was beside it, no doubt containing a Gideon Bible. A chair was beside that. On the desk was a telephone, with a black handle and gold earpiece. Everything about this hotel was friggin’ gold, thought Johnnie. Of to his left was a large walk in wardrobe, taller than Johnnie was. To the right of that was the en suite, with a large luxurious bath, a small white toilet and a white marble sink with - wait for it - gold taps. Johnnie closed the door and sat on the bed, taking off the top part of his suit, as well as the tie. He gazed at the time for a while, thinking how magnificent it looked. Strong too he thought. He wrapped half of it around each hand and pulled. It didn’t even give the sound a stitch ripping. I wonder, thought Johnnie, could it take my weight. He walked over to the wardrobe, and opened it. The bar that you put hangers on was to far up to reach, Johnnie needed something to step on. Lifting up a foot stool from the ground, he stood on it and tied the bottom of the tie to the bar at the top of the wardrobe. Johnnies idea was to wrap the tie under his armpits then kick the stool away and see if it the tie snapped. Before Johnnie could get the tie off from around his neck, something happened. The stool, which had been kicked against the wall, snapped off an already weak leg. It collapsed, leaving Johnnie dangling from the wardrobe bar with his tie wrapped around his neck. It got tighter and tighter, and Johnnies face turned from purple to blue to black. In less than a minute, Johnnie Dafner’s life was over.