Hey kids! My name's Buddy the Bear, and I'm here to teach you guys about the dangers of smoking! You see, smoking is bad. It's bad for you and for the other people around you. It messes up your insides, and you stop breathing right. If you smoke, you'll never make it past the fifth grade! I know thats a long time from now, but you can never be too careful! I wanted to warn you now about smoking so that you can live until you're two hundred years old! Would you like that? You'll have great grand children just as young as you are now. If you don't smoke, anything is possible. You could go to far away places, and have exciting adventures! You can be firefighters, or policemen, or ballerinas, or airplane pilots! You might even be on TV! That would be cool huh?
But if you smoke, none of that stuff will happen. You will spend your whole day wasting away on the couch smoking dirty cigarettes, and killing yourself slowly and very painfully. You see kids, there is much more to cigarettes and cigars than just tobacco. There is lots of hurtful stuff that will kill you if you smoke it. Cigarettes are poison, and the people that sell them to you are very mean. They don't care if you're just 7 years old. They don't care if you die from the cigarettes that they give you. They just want your money! Isn't that horrible? What kind of people would do that to you?
Thats all the time I have! I've enjoyed talking with you, and I hope you learned a lot today. Remember kids...If you don't smoke, you wont die!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
WA-6 Draft 2
Hello. My name is Jared Okamoto. I am a stockbroker employed by ETrade in Tokyo, Japan. This is a true story.
The date on the back of the photo is April 29, 2058. It was taken in my honor for the biggest sale in company history. That bridge in the background has my name inscribed in it. That day was probably the second best in my life. It would be the last day of my sane existance.
On April 30, at approximately 9:54 A.M, the Republic of China invaded the People’s Republic of China, and a nuclear war began. Hundreds of thousands died on that first day of war. Nuclear warheads were being dropped ten at a time over the mainland, and clouds of red hovered over the world like bloody shadows. Russia, not wanting to be left out of the fun, invaded all its bordering countries including: Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, the People’s Republic of China, North and South Korea, and Japan. The Russians had a chip on their shoulders when it came to their defeat in the Cold War. They wanted revenge on all the people they lost at the end of their power. The UN was furious. They halted all military operations elsewhere in the world, and focused all their power on the current Chinese and Russian conflicts. World War III had begun.
Luckily for me, I had been given permission to take a vacation for all my hard work. So after the ceremony, my wife and I hopped on a plane to Wakkanai that night. We found a nice hotel on the beach, and slept soundly that night. The next morning was chaos. Sarah had gone out to get coffee, and I was still in bed watching television. On every channel was the same message. “Stay in your house. Do not go outside. This is not a drill.” My mind went numb as I could make out gun shots in the distance. Then I heard a piercing scream and ran down stairs. Crashing through the revolving door, I skidded to a halt just outside the hotel. Russian soldiers scrambled over crumbled buildings through massive clouds of smoke. When some of the dust cleared away I saw Sarah lying on the ground. I ran to her and saw her white blouse become drenched with crimson, the spilt coffee seeping out of the upturned cups. My eyes filled with tears, and that was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up at a POW camp near Seoul, South Korea on May 1. I was hungry, thirsty, and my bones ached terribly. As I looked around, I noticed the vast size of the cell I was in. It was dug out of the soft rainforest soil and had a roof of trees and sizeable leaves. Water occasionally dripped through the roof and onto the heads of my many cell mates. During the days, we were forced to make weapons, every destructive device imaginable, for the Second Warsaw Pact Alliance; although they did not trust us with the nuclear weapons. At night, we barely ever slept, hunger keeping us awake. I survived in this camp for 892 days.
On June 9, 2060, approximately two and a half years after my imprisonment in the East Seoul Labor Camp, I was saved by UN forces when South Korea was liberated of SWPA control. On my way back to Japan, I realized that the world had taken as much nuclear war as it could. The world was a gray lifeless mass, full of lifeless people, and dead plants. When I arrived in Tokyo, everyone I knew was dead. My business was a pile of ruble. But the one thing that stopped me from taking my own life, was that bridge. My bridge was still standing. Fearlessly guiding people over the flowing water, for all time.
The date on the back of the photo is April 29, 2058. It was taken in my honor for the biggest sale in company history. That bridge in the background has my name inscribed in it. That day was probably the second best in my life. It would be the last day of my sane existance.
On April 30, at approximately 9:54 A.M, the Republic of China invaded the People’s Republic of China, and a nuclear war began. Hundreds of thousands died on that first day of war. Nuclear warheads were being dropped ten at a time over the mainland, and clouds of red hovered over the world like bloody shadows. Russia, not wanting to be left out of the fun, invaded all its bordering countries including: Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, the People’s Republic of China, North and South Korea, and Japan. The Russians had a chip on their shoulders when it came to their defeat in the Cold War. They wanted revenge on all the people they lost at the end of their power. The UN was furious. They halted all military operations elsewhere in the world, and focused all their power on the current Chinese and Russian conflicts. World War III had begun.
Luckily for me, I had been given permission to take a vacation for all my hard work. So after the ceremony, my wife and I hopped on a plane to Wakkanai that night. We found a nice hotel on the beach, and slept soundly that night. The next morning was chaos. Sarah had gone out to get coffee, and I was still in bed watching television. On every channel was the same message. “Stay in your house. Do not go outside. This is not a drill.” My mind went numb as I could make out gun shots in the distance. Then I heard a piercing scream and ran down stairs. Crashing through the revolving door, I skidded to a halt just outside the hotel. Russian soldiers scrambled over crumbled buildings through massive clouds of smoke. When some of the dust cleared away I saw Sarah lying on the ground. I ran to her and saw her white blouse become drenched with crimson, the spilt coffee seeping out of the upturned cups. My eyes filled with tears, and that was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up at a POW camp near Seoul, South Korea on May 1. I was hungry, thirsty, and my bones ached terribly. As I looked around, I noticed the vast size of the cell I was in. It was dug out of the soft rainforest soil and had a roof of trees and sizeable leaves. Water occasionally dripped through the roof and onto the heads of my many cell mates. During the days, we were forced to make weapons, every destructive device imaginable, for the Second Warsaw Pact Alliance; although they did not trust us with the nuclear weapons. At night, we barely ever slept, hunger keeping us awake. I survived in this camp for 892 days.
On June 9, 2060, approximately two and a half years after my imprisonment in the East Seoul Labor Camp, I was saved by UN forces when South Korea was liberated of SWPA control. On my way back to Japan, I realized that the world had taken as much nuclear war as it could. The world was a gray lifeless mass, full of lifeless people, and dead plants. When I arrived in Tokyo, everyone I knew was dead. My business was a pile of ruble. But the one thing that stopped me from taking my own life, was that bridge. My bridge was still standing. Fearlessly guiding people over the flowing water, for all time.
Monday, March 23, 2009
WA-6 Draft 1
Hello. My name is Jared Okamoto. I am a stockbroker employed by ETrade in Tokyo, Japan. This is a true story.
The date on the back of the photo is April 29, 2058. It was taken in my honor for the biggest sale in company history. That bridge in the background has my name inscribed in it. That day was probably the second best in my life. The first was marrying my beautiful wife, Sarah Yeungling. That day; the second best; was the last day of my sane existence.
On April 30, at approximately 9:54 A.M, the Republic of China invaded the People’s Republic of China, and a nuclear war began. Hundreds of thousands died on that first day of war. Nuclear warheads were being dropped ten at a time over the mainland, and clouds of red hovered over the world like bloody shadows. Russia, not wanting to be left out of the fun, invaded all its bordering countries including: Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, the People’s Republic of China, North and South Korea, and Japan. The Russians had a chip on their shoulders when it came to their defeat in the Cold War. They wanted revenge on all the people they lost at the end of their power. The UN was furious. They halted all military operations elsewhere in the world, and focused all their power on the current Chinese and Russian conflicts. World War III had begun.
Luckily for me, I had been given permission to take a vacation for all my hard work. So after the ceremony, my wife and I hopped on a plane to Wakkanai that night. We found a nice hotel on the beach, and slept soundly that night. The next morning was chaos. Sarah had gone out to get coffee, and I was still in bed watching television. On every channel was the same message. “Stay in your house. Do not go outside. This is not a drill.” My mind went numb as I could make out gun shots in the distance. Then I heard a piercing scream and ran down stairs. Crashing through the revolving door, I skidded to a halt just outside the hotel. Russian soldiers scrambled over crumbled buildings through massive clouds of smoke. When some of the dust cleared away I saw Sarah lying on the ground. I ran to her and saw her white blouse become drenched with crimson, the spilt coffee seeping out of the upturned cups. My eyes filled with tears, and that was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up at a POW camp near Seoul, South Korea on May 1. I was hungry, thirsty, and my bones ached terribly. As I looked around, I noticed the vast size of the cell I was in. It was dug out of the soft rainforest soil and had a roof of trees and sizeable leaves. Water occasionally dripped through the roof and onto the heads of my many cell mates. During the days, we were forced to make weapons, big and small, guns and nukes, for the Second Warsaw Pact Alliance. At night, we barely ever slept, hunger keeping us awake. I survived in this camp for 892 days.
On June 9, 2060, approximately two and a half years after my imprisonment in the East Seoul Labor Camp, I was saved by UN forces when South Korea was liberated of SWPA control. On my way back to Japan, I realized that the world had taken as much nuclear war as it could. The world was a gray lifeless mass, full of lifeless people, and dead plants. When I arrived in Tokyo, everyone I knew was dead. My business was a pile of ruble. But the one thing that stopped me from taking my own life, was that bridge. My bridge was still standing. Fearlessly guiding people over the flowing water, for all time.
The date on the back of the photo is April 29, 2058. It was taken in my honor for the biggest sale in company history. That bridge in the background has my name inscribed in it. That day was probably the second best in my life. The first was marrying my beautiful wife, Sarah Yeungling. That day; the second best; was the last day of my sane existence.
On April 30, at approximately 9:54 A.M, the Republic of China invaded the People’s Republic of China, and a nuclear war began. Hundreds of thousands died on that first day of war. Nuclear warheads were being dropped ten at a time over the mainland, and clouds of red hovered over the world like bloody shadows. Russia, not wanting to be left out of the fun, invaded all its bordering countries including: Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, the People’s Republic of China, North and South Korea, and Japan. The Russians had a chip on their shoulders when it came to their defeat in the Cold War. They wanted revenge on all the people they lost at the end of their power. The UN was furious. They halted all military operations elsewhere in the world, and focused all their power on the current Chinese and Russian conflicts. World War III had begun.
Luckily for me, I had been given permission to take a vacation for all my hard work. So after the ceremony, my wife and I hopped on a plane to Wakkanai that night. We found a nice hotel on the beach, and slept soundly that night. The next morning was chaos. Sarah had gone out to get coffee, and I was still in bed watching television. On every channel was the same message. “Stay in your house. Do not go outside. This is not a drill.” My mind went numb as I could make out gun shots in the distance. Then I heard a piercing scream and ran down stairs. Crashing through the revolving door, I skidded to a halt just outside the hotel. Russian soldiers scrambled over crumbled buildings through massive clouds of smoke. When some of the dust cleared away I saw Sarah lying on the ground. I ran to her and saw her white blouse become drenched with crimson, the spilt coffee seeping out of the upturned cups. My eyes filled with tears, and that was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up at a POW camp near Seoul, South Korea on May 1. I was hungry, thirsty, and my bones ached terribly. As I looked around, I noticed the vast size of the cell I was in. It was dug out of the soft rainforest soil and had a roof of trees and sizeable leaves. Water occasionally dripped through the roof and onto the heads of my many cell mates. During the days, we were forced to make weapons, big and small, guns and nukes, for the Second Warsaw Pact Alliance. At night, we barely ever slept, hunger keeping us awake. I survived in this camp for 892 days.
On June 9, 2060, approximately two and a half years after my imprisonment in the East Seoul Labor Camp, I was saved by UN forces when South Korea was liberated of SWPA control. On my way back to Japan, I realized that the world had taken as much nuclear war as it could. The world was a gray lifeless mass, full of lifeless people, and dead plants. When I arrived in Tokyo, everyone I knew was dead. My business was a pile of ruble. But the one thing that stopped me from taking my own life, was that bridge. My bridge was still standing. Fearlessly guiding people over the flowing water, for all time.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
WA-5 Draft 3
The Rotini family Capo just said to get it over with. He picked me, his third son, to do the job. I awoke early in the morning to get myself organized: 1 .45 caliber pistol, 1 map of New York City, 1 body bag, and a change of clothes. The Capo said I should get rid of the body as soon as possible, but take extra care that he was dead. He did not want a repeat of last time. I rode an automobile (with two body guards) out of Yonkers, down route 87, towards Long Island City, just across the river from Manhattan. My older brother Gregorio, who was working intel on this assignment, said the “Great-Grandfather” of the Conolé family would be at his family’s house at 11 a.m.. I ran through my responsibilities once again in my mind:
· Kill the “Great-Grandfather”
· Escape with the body and dispose of it
· Plant clues leading to the Sicilians
As I approached the Conolé residence I noticed a sea of colorful streamers strung across all the trees, painting the grey city sky green, white and red. I could hear faint music drifting lazily from the grounds. I pulled up across the street from the entrance to the safe house. My heart stopped when I recognized the raucous bursts of laughter and delicate tinkling of champagne glasses of a wedding reception. Gregorio hadn’t said anything about a wedding! I needed a minute to stop hyperventilating and get my focus back. What did the Capo always say? “If you are in a bad situation, do not panic. Focus on the goal, and find a way to achieve, by any means necessary. You know what you have to do.” I kept repeating that to myself as I stepped out of the car. Luckily, my change of clothes happened to be a tuxedo, so I didn’t stand out at the party.
Getting past security would be the hardest part. I held my breath as the guards patted me down; all the while giving me the ‘I know you’re hiding something face.” I was indeed, but they did not check the groin area so I was safe there. The reception was in full force when I arrived and I took a glass of expensive Italian champagne from a waiter. Just to calm my nerves you understand. I could see a beautiful lady dancing with a well dressed man on the raised dance floor. I assumed that was the famous Carlina Conolé and her new husband. Despite the alcohol, I anxiously began to sweat when I saw my intended target dancing with his wife, the Viscontessa Conolé. The string quartet finished playing, and the “Great-Grandfather” bowed to his wife and swiftly strode into the house. I ambled around for some time, nervously eyeing people with wide smiles upon their faces.
I made my way across the garden towards the entrance to the house. I stepped into the front hall, and asked a man waiting by the staircase if I could possibly see the Master of the family. He replied, “No one is to see the Great-Grandfather on his daughter’s wedding day.” I said, “Well, you might want to go see if the two men at the gate are alright. One of them said he didn’t feel so well, and that he might have to throw up.”
The staircase guard gave me a weird look, and then asked me, “Which one was it?”I said softly, “The big one. He didn’t look to good when I came in.”
With that the guard took off in the direction of the gate, not wanting to anger his father by only having one person guarding the gate. I slowly walked upstairs, pulling the pistol out of my pants, and replacing it for better reaction time at my belt. When I got to the Conolé Capo’s room I took a deep breath, and slowly turned the handle. This was it, I told myself. My moment of glory.
“Carlina, my flower,” the Conole Capo said slowly, “why have you come to my private room on your wedding day? You should be outside dancing and enjoying the sun and laughter.”“Father,” I replied, “I saw a man on the lawn, alone. His face was twisted in emotion, and his belt glinted in the sun for a second. I think he plans to kill you!”“Do not worry my child,” he said in a convincing tone.Just at that second, I soft clicking sound came from behind the door. “Quick, get to one side of the door!”I slid an umbrella out of its stand, and held it like a baseball bat, the heavy handle swinging slowly above my head. The door slowly opened, and a gun poked through. Then a shoulder, and finally a head. I struck swiftly and accurately. He never saw anything. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and into his eyebrow. Papa turned around. He had been facing towards the window, watching the day’s proceedings. He nodded, and I pulled the gun out of the mysterious man’s warm hand. With caution I turned the weapon on its owner, and slowly pulled the trigger. The explosion knocked me down, but my father helped me back up. “What’s done is done, my flower.” With that, he took my arm and we walked out of that dusty place, down the stairs, and back out into the sunshine of the happiest day of my life.
· Kill the “Great-Grandfather”
· Escape with the body and dispose of it
· Plant clues leading to the Sicilians
As I approached the Conolé residence I noticed a sea of colorful streamers strung across all the trees, painting the grey city sky green, white and red. I could hear faint music drifting lazily from the grounds. I pulled up across the street from the entrance to the safe house. My heart stopped when I recognized the raucous bursts of laughter and delicate tinkling of champagne glasses of a wedding reception. Gregorio hadn’t said anything about a wedding! I needed a minute to stop hyperventilating and get my focus back. What did the Capo always say? “If you are in a bad situation, do not panic. Focus on the goal, and find a way to achieve, by any means necessary. You know what you have to do.” I kept repeating that to myself as I stepped out of the car. Luckily, my change of clothes happened to be a tuxedo, so I didn’t stand out at the party.
Getting past security would be the hardest part. I held my breath as the guards patted me down; all the while giving me the ‘I know you’re hiding something face.” I was indeed, but they did not check the groin area so I was safe there. The reception was in full force when I arrived and I took a glass of expensive Italian champagne from a waiter. Just to calm my nerves you understand. I could see a beautiful lady dancing with a well dressed man on the raised dance floor. I assumed that was the famous Carlina Conolé and her new husband. Despite the alcohol, I anxiously began to sweat when I saw my intended target dancing with his wife, the Viscontessa Conolé. The string quartet finished playing, and the “Great-Grandfather” bowed to his wife and swiftly strode into the house. I ambled around for some time, nervously eyeing people with wide smiles upon their faces.
I made my way across the garden towards the entrance to the house. I stepped into the front hall, and asked a man waiting by the staircase if I could possibly see the Master of the family. He replied, “No one is to see the Great-Grandfather on his daughter’s wedding day.” I said, “Well, you might want to go see if the two men at the gate are alright. One of them said he didn’t feel so well, and that he might have to throw up.”
The staircase guard gave me a weird look, and then asked me, “Which one was it?”I said softly, “The big one. He didn’t look to good when I came in.”
With that the guard took off in the direction of the gate, not wanting to anger his father by only having one person guarding the gate. I slowly walked upstairs, pulling the pistol out of my pants, and replacing it for better reaction time at my belt. When I got to the Conolé Capo’s room I took a deep breath, and slowly turned the handle. This was it, I told myself. My moment of glory.
“Carlina, my flower,” the Conole Capo said slowly, “why have you come to my private room on your wedding day? You should be outside dancing and enjoying the sun and laughter.”“Father,” I replied, “I saw a man on the lawn, alone. His face was twisted in emotion, and his belt glinted in the sun for a second. I think he plans to kill you!”“Do not worry my child,” he said in a convincing tone.Just at that second, I soft clicking sound came from behind the door. “Quick, get to one side of the door!”I slid an umbrella out of its stand, and held it like a baseball bat, the heavy handle swinging slowly above my head. The door slowly opened, and a gun poked through. Then a shoulder, and finally a head. I struck swiftly and accurately. He never saw anything. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and into his eyebrow. Papa turned around. He had been facing towards the window, watching the day’s proceedings. He nodded, and I pulled the gun out of the mysterious man’s warm hand. With caution I turned the weapon on its owner, and slowly pulled the trigger. The explosion knocked me down, but my father helped me back up. “What’s done is done, my flower.” With that, he took my arm and we walked out of that dusty place, down the stairs, and back out into the sunshine of the happiest day of my life.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
WA-5 Draft 2
This is the best time of my life. I think. I just married a wonderful man, who will be able to provide for me the rest of my life. Soon we will have children, and there will be plenty for me to do around the house. So why do I feel so…anxious I guess is the right word? I feel like something bad is about to happen, and I can’t stop it. Well, I guess all I can do is keep dancing. He really is handsome that Giuseppe Carbanara. I am definitely a lucky girl.
It’s time to cut the cake! Wow, that’s a chunk. I can’t eat all that papa! Oh alright, it is my wedding after all. Well, I’m glad everyone is having a good time. They all look so cheerful. Laughing and talking and carrying on. That’s a great feeling to have on your wedding day. My papa hired a real Italian string quartet to play. They are very nice, and know lots of songs!
I see a man dressed in a tuxedo coming in from the gate. I don’t believe I’ve every seen him before. He seems slightly awkward. OH MY! He just reached down his pants! Well I never…I’ll just go back to dancing. I hope the guards outside aren’t letting just anybody in! Now he is looking in the direction of my father dancing on the other side of the floor. That’s a weird look. Somewhere between disgust and being sick. Well, as long as he doesn’t disrupt the party, he is my friend. WAIT…what is that thing glinting in his belt?
I leaned into Giuseppe and told him I had to attend to some business, and then I left him on the dance floor after the song ended. I took a secret staircase up to my father’s study. He was sitting in his tall black armchair behind his desk when I opened the door, but as soon as he saw me, he stood up and opened his arms.
“Carlina, my flower,” he said slowly, “why have you come to my private room on your wedding day? You should be outside dancing and enjoying the sun and laughter.”
“Father,” I replied, “I saw a man on the lawn, alone. His face was twisted in emotion, and his belt glinted in the sun for a second. I think he plans to kill you!”
“Do not worry my child,” he said in a convincing tone.
Just at that second, I soft clicking sound came from behind the door.
“Quick, get to one side of the door!”
I slid an umbrella out of its stand, and held it like a baseball bat, the heavy handle swinging slowly above my head. The door slowly opened, and a gun poked through. Then a shoulder, and finally a head. I struck swiftly and accurately. He never saw anything. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and into his eyebrow. Papa turned around. He had been facing towards the window, watching the day’s proceedings. He nodded, and I pulled the gun out of the mysterious man’s warm hand. With caution I turned the weapon on its owner, and slowly pulled the trigger. The explosion knocked me down, but my father helped me back up.
“What’s done is done, my flower.” With that, he took my arm and we walked out of that dusty place, down the stairs, and back out into the sunshine of the happiest day of my life.
It’s time to cut the cake! Wow, that’s a chunk. I can’t eat all that papa! Oh alright, it is my wedding after all. Well, I’m glad everyone is having a good time. They all look so cheerful. Laughing and talking and carrying on. That’s a great feeling to have on your wedding day. My papa hired a real Italian string quartet to play. They are very nice, and know lots of songs!
I see a man dressed in a tuxedo coming in from the gate. I don’t believe I’ve every seen him before. He seems slightly awkward. OH MY! He just reached down his pants! Well I never…I’ll just go back to dancing. I hope the guards outside aren’t letting just anybody in! Now he is looking in the direction of my father dancing on the other side of the floor. That’s a weird look. Somewhere between disgust and being sick. Well, as long as he doesn’t disrupt the party, he is my friend. WAIT…what is that thing glinting in his belt?
I leaned into Giuseppe and told him I had to attend to some business, and then I left him on the dance floor after the song ended. I took a secret staircase up to my father’s study. He was sitting in his tall black armchair behind his desk when I opened the door, but as soon as he saw me, he stood up and opened his arms.
“Carlina, my flower,” he said slowly, “why have you come to my private room on your wedding day? You should be outside dancing and enjoying the sun and laughter.”
“Father,” I replied, “I saw a man on the lawn, alone. His face was twisted in emotion, and his belt glinted in the sun for a second. I think he plans to kill you!”
“Do not worry my child,” he said in a convincing tone.
Just at that second, I soft clicking sound came from behind the door.
“Quick, get to one side of the door!”
I slid an umbrella out of its stand, and held it like a baseball bat, the heavy handle swinging slowly above my head. The door slowly opened, and a gun poked through. Then a shoulder, and finally a head. I struck swiftly and accurately. He never saw anything. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and into his eyebrow. Papa turned around. He had been facing towards the window, watching the day’s proceedings. He nodded, and I pulled the gun out of the mysterious man’s warm hand. With caution I turned the weapon on its owner, and slowly pulled the trigger. The explosion knocked me down, but my father helped me back up.
“What’s done is done, my flower.” With that, he took my arm and we walked out of that dusty place, down the stairs, and back out into the sunshine of the happiest day of my life.
Monday, February 16, 2009
WA-5 Draft 1
The Rotini family Capo just said to get it over with. He picked me, his third son, to do the job. I awoke early in the morning to get myself organized: 1 .45 caliber pistol, 1 map of New York City, 1 body bag, and a change of clothes. The Capo said I should get rid of the body as soon as possible, but take extra care that he was dead. He did not want a repeat of last time. I rode an automobile (with two body guards) out of Yonkers, down route 87, towards Long Island City, just across the river from Manhattan. My older brother Gregorio, who was working intel on this assignment, said the “Great-Grandfather” of the Conolé family would be at his family’s house at 11 a.m.. I ran through my responsibilities once again in my mind:
· Kill the “Great-Grandfather”
· Escape with the body and dispose of it
· Plant clues leading to the Sicilians
As I approached the Conolé residence I noticed a sea of colorful streamers strung across all the trees, painting the grey city sky green, white and red. I could hear faint music drifting lazily from the grounds. I pulled up across the street from the entrance to the safe house. My heart stopped when I recognized the raucous bursts of laughter and delicate tinkling of champagne glasses of a wedding reception. Gregorio hadn’t said anything about a wedding! I needed a minute to stop hyperventilating and get my focus back. What did the Capo always say? “If you are in a bad situation, do not panic. Focus on the goal, and find a way to achieve, by any means necessary. You know what you have to do.” I kept repeating that to myself as I stepped out of the car. Luckily, my change of clothes happened to be a tuxedo, so I didn’t stand out at the party.
Getting past security would be the hardest part. I held my breath as the guards patted me down; all the while giving me the ‘I know you’re hiding something face.” I was indeed, but they did not check the groin area so I was safe there. The reception was in full force when I arrived and I took a glass of expensive Italian champagne from a waiter. Just to calm my nerves you understand. I could see a beautiful lady dancing with a well dressed man on the raised dance floor. I assumed that was the famous Carlina Conolé and her new husband. Despite the alcohol, I anxiously began to sweat when I saw my intended target dancing with his wife, the Viscontessa Conolé. The string quartet finished playing, and the “Great-Grandfather” bowed to his wife and swiftly strode into the house. I ambled around for some time, nervously eyeing people with wide smiles upon their faces.
I made my way across the garden towards the entrance to the house. I stepped into the front hall, and asked a man waiting by the staircase if I could possibly see the Master of the family. He replied, “No one is to see the Great-Grandfather on his daughter’s wedding day.”
I said, “Well, you might want to go see if the two men at the gate are alright. One of them said he didn’t feel so well, and that he might have to throw up.”
The staircase guard gave me a weird look, and then asked me, “Which one was it?”
I said softly, “The big one. He didn’t look to good when I came in.”
With that the guard took off in the direction of the gate, not wanting to anger his father by only having one person guarding the gate. I slowly walked upstairs, pulling the pistol out of my pants, and replacing it for better reaction time at my belt. When I got to the Conolé Capo’s room I took a deep breath, and slowly turned the handle. This was it, I told myself. My moment of glory. The last thing I saw was the back of the “Great-Grandfather”. Ironically, the man who killed me, was provided with the means of an uneventful murder by myself.
· Kill the “Great-Grandfather”
· Escape with the body and dispose of it
· Plant clues leading to the Sicilians
As I approached the Conolé residence I noticed a sea of colorful streamers strung across all the trees, painting the grey city sky green, white and red. I could hear faint music drifting lazily from the grounds. I pulled up across the street from the entrance to the safe house. My heart stopped when I recognized the raucous bursts of laughter and delicate tinkling of champagne glasses of a wedding reception. Gregorio hadn’t said anything about a wedding! I needed a minute to stop hyperventilating and get my focus back. What did the Capo always say? “If you are in a bad situation, do not panic. Focus on the goal, and find a way to achieve, by any means necessary. You know what you have to do.” I kept repeating that to myself as I stepped out of the car. Luckily, my change of clothes happened to be a tuxedo, so I didn’t stand out at the party.
Getting past security would be the hardest part. I held my breath as the guards patted me down; all the while giving me the ‘I know you’re hiding something face.” I was indeed, but they did not check the groin area so I was safe there. The reception was in full force when I arrived and I took a glass of expensive Italian champagne from a waiter. Just to calm my nerves you understand. I could see a beautiful lady dancing with a well dressed man on the raised dance floor. I assumed that was the famous Carlina Conolé and her new husband. Despite the alcohol, I anxiously began to sweat when I saw my intended target dancing with his wife, the Viscontessa Conolé. The string quartet finished playing, and the “Great-Grandfather” bowed to his wife and swiftly strode into the house. I ambled around for some time, nervously eyeing people with wide smiles upon their faces.
I made my way across the garden towards the entrance to the house. I stepped into the front hall, and asked a man waiting by the staircase if I could possibly see the Master of the family. He replied, “No one is to see the Great-Grandfather on his daughter’s wedding day.”
I said, “Well, you might want to go see if the two men at the gate are alright. One of them said he didn’t feel so well, and that he might have to throw up.”
The staircase guard gave me a weird look, and then asked me, “Which one was it?”
I said softly, “The big one. He didn’t look to good when I came in.”
With that the guard took off in the direction of the gate, not wanting to anger his father by only having one person guarding the gate. I slowly walked upstairs, pulling the pistol out of my pants, and replacing it for better reaction time at my belt. When I got to the Conolé Capo’s room I took a deep breath, and slowly turned the handle. This was it, I told myself. My moment of glory. The last thing I saw was the back of the “Great-Grandfather”. Ironically, the man who killed me, was provided with the means of an uneventful murder by myself.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
WA-4 Draft 2
Dear Mr. Obama,
I write this on the eve of your inauguration, with high hopes for the future. I do not want to speak badly of President Bush, but lately he hasn’t been to focused on his responsibilities. I hope that your administration will do a better job of solving the problems of the American people, and raise our country’s global status to the level that it held before the previous servant of the state took office.
I have two main issues I would like to discuss. The first, and probably more important at this point, is the economical situation. I know that billion dollar bail out plans have already been tried to kick start the economy, but I really don’t think that it’s going to work. The banks, being the greedy little enterprises they are, will always try to better themselves first, before they use the money they were given to help their customers. I really am at a loss as to why we are in an economic decline. People have not changed their spending habits at all. I go to the local mall and see the parking lot bursting with cars. People still buy ipods, and computers, and other unnecessary items. Maybe, if we leave well enough alone, we’ll come out of the depression on our own because of all the stuff we’re buying. Nothing is more simple than having the victims do the rescuing. But by then people will be so immersed in credit card debt that they can never rescue themselves. Then, if by some miraculous process they manange to free themselves of the credit card company's demands, they are still in an economic depression, and this time we do not have the option of war to get us out.
I think that your second priority (but not by much) is to get our soldiers out of Iraq. I enjoyed your speeches about the evacuation plan. I think that you set reachable goals, but that it may take a bit of doing to complete them. Trying to salvage a nation’s reputation, economy, and people at one time can hardly be a small job. But Iraq should be on the top of your list because we had no business in there in the first place. Yes we need oil, but there should have been a way after Afghanistan to do it peacefully. I think, the soldiers in there have lost all sense of what they are fighting for; because there was no reason to go into Iraq. They are fighting in a civil war that needs to be decided by the natives. That’s the point of a civil war. We have the people that attacked us, now we need to stop the killing. Let what happens, happen. This is how history is made. We have set up a semi-stable government, let it try to do what it can. If it does not work, then we will worry about that later, when more urgent problems arise, and we are better supported by the U.N., and other nations. Mr. Obama, as I sit here today, I know that a better future awaits. I know that you will do all you can to get us back on track. And I know that no one can stop you, the 44th President of the United States of America!
Sincerely, with hope and admiration,
Ben Mattern
I write this on the eve of your inauguration, with high hopes for the future. I do not want to speak badly of President Bush, but lately he hasn’t been to focused on his responsibilities. I hope that your administration will do a better job of solving the problems of the American people, and raise our country’s global status to the level that it held before the previous servant of the state took office.
I have two main issues I would like to discuss. The first, and probably more important at this point, is the economical situation. I know that billion dollar bail out plans have already been tried to kick start the economy, but I really don’t think that it’s going to work. The banks, being the greedy little enterprises they are, will always try to better themselves first, before they use the money they were given to help their customers. I really am at a loss as to why we are in an economic decline. People have not changed their spending habits at all. I go to the local mall and see the parking lot bursting with cars. People still buy ipods, and computers, and other unnecessary items. Maybe, if we leave well enough alone, we’ll come out of the depression on our own because of all the stuff we’re buying. Nothing is more simple than having the victims do the rescuing. But by then people will be so immersed in credit card debt that they can never rescue themselves. Then, if by some miraculous process they manange to free themselves of the credit card company's demands, they are still in an economic depression, and this time we do not have the option of war to get us out.
I think that your second priority (but not by much) is to get our soldiers out of Iraq. I enjoyed your speeches about the evacuation plan. I think that you set reachable goals, but that it may take a bit of doing to complete them. Trying to salvage a nation’s reputation, economy, and people at one time can hardly be a small job. But Iraq should be on the top of your list because we had no business in there in the first place. Yes we need oil, but there should have been a way after Afghanistan to do it peacefully. I think, the soldiers in there have lost all sense of what they are fighting for; because there was no reason to go into Iraq. They are fighting in a civil war that needs to be decided by the natives. That’s the point of a civil war. We have the people that attacked us, now we need to stop the killing. Let what happens, happen. This is how history is made. We have set up a semi-stable government, let it try to do what it can. If it does not work, then we will worry about that later, when more urgent problems arise, and we are better supported by the U.N., and other nations. Mr. Obama, as I sit here today, I know that a better future awaits. I know that you will do all you can to get us back on track. And I know that no one can stop you, the 44th President of the United States of America!
Sincerely, with hope and admiration,
Ben Mattern
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