Hate: Chapter Two

[jute]

Hate: Chapter One

Hate: Chapter Two

{roll opening credits; 'head over heels' by tears for fears plays; at finish fade to}

and when Adam gets inside it’s time for dinner and everybody is seated and waiting for him at the huge antique table and these are the people that are waiting for him: Sam Snake, Jake Badlands, Leningrad Dutch, Randy Milstead, Greedo, Michael Foucault, Tom Petty (even though he’s dead), Dale Robertson, Warren Gray, Meriadoc Deepdelver, Caprice Derubeis, David Onley, Walton Behal, Celia Vigil, Alraune Scylla, Nepanhakiel Arrus, Luther Blissett, Adaka Ughel, Horselover Fat, Dalenda Armachian, Chuck Bentley, mary moon, Giles Nurse, Deer Kelpie, Dick Maxwell, Hipparcos Gliese, Napoleon Smith, Arthur Lyman Kastleman, Sheridan Le Fanu, Richard Brestoff, Bob Lazar, Alcofribas Nasier, Marc Bernier, Levon Besnelian, Hermine Nockai, Tristram Shandy, and a guy whose name Adam can’t remember ; missing from this granfaloon (probably in the kitchen, or asleep, maybe both) are: Yorick Lossoth, Salome Antipas, Philip Greenspun, Horatio Evik, Alfred Lawson, and, of course, Valdamar Valerian , and really Adam shouldn’t be able to remember all these names, as his memory is pretty poor, and when they see him, they all cheer and mary runs up and hugs him and laughs and the room is dark and dimlit with lots of browns and reds, candles, oak, soft ceiling staging battles of soft-cast shadows and the meal that is served over the course of the evening is: first course: caviar; second course: foie gras; third course: duck; and glasses are already poured and tonight everyone is drinking 1948 Fonseca Porto and as Philip Greenspun (that’s where he was) serves the caviar, conversation starts to develop, mainly because mary and Michael Foucault are already engaged in a discussion over ‘degreelessness’, a copy of which is being swung around by mary, and it’s a pretty nice version, bound in tanned demon hide, and the cover says, in overbearingly heavy gothic lettering, ‘the living word of chester’, and Adam thinks that’s kind of funny and they’re both raving over the book and tossing out new buzzwords like ‘metanonfiction’ and ‘post-post apocalyptic’ and then he hears Michael Foucault say the phrase ‘here at the end’ and it makes him shudder but he doesn’t know why (but above him their shadows lunge at each other’s throats and bite and tear) and before he can really consider it, the guy whose name Adam can’t remember starts talking to him and he’s telling him all about how good the music that’s playing is and he’s right because the song playing on the stereo is ‘Six Different Ways’ by The Cure and that’s always been one of Adam’s favorites, but this guy, whoever he is, is taking it way too far and comparing the song’s ‘six different ways inside my heart’ and ‘six shades to wear in liaison’ to the six paths to the four noble worlds in Buddhism, and by the time he’s pointed out that ‘sad’ is the original Sanskrit for the word ‘mystic’, and is interpreted as meaning ‘perfect endowment’, Adam is about fucking tired of it all because the song is over anyway so he interrupts this guy to ask him his name and the guy says “Paul, Paul Warren” and he’s not casting a shadow; out of lightpath and someone anonymous hands Adam a too-tightly-rolled joint but he smokes some anyway even though what he really wants is jet and next up is ‘Jane Says’ by Jane’s Addiction but it’s a live acoustic version that’s actually a little bit better than the original but since it’s from a shitty bootleg the sound quality isn’t the greatest: still obviously a fantastic song but a little muffled, vacant in the low-end but before Adam can really make any further observations he notices Leningrad Dutch juggling tennis balls in his seat near the corner of the table and singing along loudly and on the ceiling it looks like cells reproducing and the first course is taken away and foie gras is served and Dick Maxwell and Tristram Shandy are engaged in a deep conversation about superstring theory while Salome Antipas - who recently emerged, rather clumsily, from under the table - and Caprice Derubeis feel each other up across the table and someone shouts “shevirat hakelim” and someone else stops the song, and all eyes, even Salome’s, even Caprice’s (though he continues to grope her left breast), turn to Tom Petty, who (even though he’s dead) is seated at the table, his head propped up with a stick, and he has an acoustic guitar with him and a harmonica and all conversation is hushed as he begins to strum - A Minor, G, D, A Minor - and he’s playing ‘ Last Dance with Mary Jane’ (the last song he wrote before his death), but it’s slower and so quiet that Adam can hear Tom’s tongue click as it slides over his teeth as he softly croons the word ‘with’ and it’s a truly amazing performance and afterwards, after the final chords have totally faded, everyone stands in unison and claps and cheers and Dale Robertson even runs over to Tom (optic feedback shadow recording, like starting a film at eight frames per second and gradually speeding it up to thirty-two: collapse) and gives him a hug, which knocks the stick that’s supporting his withered head off of the table, so Tom spends the rest of the night slumped over in a peaceful heap, a hero’s rest, and then more wine is passed around and mary is asking Adam about his ‘little vacation’ and he’s telling her in immense detail (the sound of eyeballs bursting, the odor of bile and shit, a body like a filthy syringe) and she’s genuinely listening and when he’s done she smiles and starts telling him about how an essay Michael wrote in the Seventies applies to ‘degreelessness’ and Adam tells her that she’s to blame for the fact that, despite not being interested in the story, he still thinks about it all the time, and when she hears that she laughs and smiles even more and Adam thinks that’s why he likes her: she has a sense of humor and suddenly he’s compelled to stand up and share his joy with the rest of the room and he wants to tell them a joke he thought up on the way back to the mansion: so there’s this waitress, right? and she tells her husband to meet her one day after she gets off work. so he gets there at five, you know, he’s at the restaurant when he’s supposed to be, but she’s steaming mad! and he says, ‘why are you mad at me? what have i done wrong, honey?’ and she says ‘I’ve been waiting all day!’ and the room erupts with laughter and mary flashes him another smile and everyone is overjoyed and Adam feels like it’s all almost too much, like he can’t take in all this happiness at once, like his heart is about to burst, releasing brilliant beams of light that destroy these shades, these gaunts and illuminate the darkness of the room and carry it softly to heaven like the hot-air balloon from Willy Wonka, like his heart is about to burst, like a thick bubble-gum-pink laser beam is dragging itself across his chest, like the crash that his father died in and the rest of the night passes like a beautiful dream.

[Guardian]

This has got the be the wierdest piece I've seen from you yet --- but I like it. Slightly difficult to follow, what with the run-ons an' whatnot --- but I was stangely entertained. What images I picked uop were pretty decently depicted; hope to see more, maybe try an' figure out your motives here. *snickers*

[jute]

Guardian said:

This has got the be the wierdest piece I've seen from you yet --- but I like it. Slightly difficult to follow, what with the run-ons an' whatnot --- but I was stangely entertained. What images I picked uop were pretty decently depicted; hope to see more, maybe try an' figure out your motives here. *snickers*

the reason it's slightly difficult to follow is probably because (and i didn't even notice this until dingus khan pointed it out), not counting the punctuation in the joke, which i consider seperate from the rest of the text, the whole chapter is a single sentence.
thank you for the compliments. they mean a lot.
as for being weird: if everything turns out as planned, it should get a lot crazier.

[DaJuice]

Proper reply as promised.
At first I was gonna bitch about how difficult it was to go through because of the punctuation (or lack thereof), but I read it a second time and it flowed better. However Pleeease break up the next chapter into like 4 or 5 run-on sentences if you must, and seperate them as paragraphs or something.
On to the story. To be honest I enjoyed the first chapter a lot more, it had more punch, as well as more content it seemed. First there was the violence, beautifully brought to life, and then there were all those interesting tidbits about how the demons took over, and how all there was left were mansions and kinkos, and the general strangeness.
This chapter is more like somone recounting a dream they had, it didn't advance the story as much, if there is indeed a general direction to Hate, rather than daily life with psycho Adam. I still enjoyed it a lot, I get a kick out of the weird stuff, you've got a great imagination.
Can't wait for chapter 3, how far along is it?

[jute]

yeah, the text is seperated a lot more in the next chapter. this chapter isn't meant to have much in the way of action, as it's more for setting things up, and to provide more contrast with the beginning of the story. but there is a very loose plot that is forming, even here. thank you a lot for liking it, and thank you even more for actually reading it twice.

EDIT: also worth noting is that this story is planned to be pretty long, so plot development isn't going to be rushed at all. think of it as a necrophiliac drug frenzy version of the catcher in the rye.

[DaJuice]

Excellent, I'm glad to hear it's going to be more than just a few chapters.

[Alboroto]

Write in paragraphs, helps reading the story a lot.

[jute]

alborto: the decision to use large masses of unseperated text as opposed to conventional paragraphs is an intentional one, as i think it befits the current tone of the story. it probably won't all be like that, as there are other areas i'd like to explore as well. i apologize for any difficulty in reading it, and thanks for checking it out. you might want to look at the first chapter, as it's far more seperated, and not one gigantic sentence. (and the chapter i'm currently working on approaches traditional structure much more, as well.)

[toxicfluff]

Awesome stuff once again PWW, strange for a Doom fanfic, but real good. The grammatical structure and writing really convey a psychotic kind of mood, and the imagery is delivered in a really imaginative style.

aghh... I'm not in a good mood today, so I can't really be fucked to write any more. Anyway, nice stuff once again, and I look forward to the next chapter.