The Review Club Forum Cheating Fight Scene

This is for the 500 word fight scene that must contain some element of the word cheating.

�Cheater, cheater, pumpkin-eater,� I cried. Was pumpkin eating an insult? I wondered why, pumpkin pie tasted good with a little dab of whipped cream melting into�

�Ow! F**k!� I screamed as the skin on the sole of my right foot was flayed from my body. �D****t Jenny, I said�cheater, cheater, pumpkin-eater.�

I glared at the upside-down Amazon blonde in high heels, tight black leather bustier, and spike-studded stockings. She held a thin whip above her head, preparing to swing it again at my bare flesh.

�Oh, did you say something?� Jenny asked, voice sweet in contrast to the blood in her eyes. She was enjoying the game, the power of domination.

My head swam. I twisted, pulling at the metal chains that held me inverted and helpless. Why had I agreed to this? I wasn�t into pain. Hell, I wasn�t all that interested in sex. Well, sex with Jenny that was.

After ten long years of marriage, Jenny decided we needed therapy. THERAPY! So six months ago we�d started couples counseling and like a good husband, I went without complaint.

The �therapist�, a grey-haired hippie in tweed said: Jenny needed to feel as if she had a sense of power and control in our relationship. Power? Control? She was a suburban housewife for f**k sake�s. An �artist� who spent her days sipping lattes and shopping with the girls, what the f**k did she have to complain about? I gave her everything. She wore Prada and drove a BMW. How much more did she need?

Again, I kept quiet when two weeks later she came home with a leather strap. Her perverse sex play was kind of a turn at first. A little bedroom banter. A whip here and a n****e clap there�But soon I found myself hanging upside-down in a pair of buttless leather chaps and a zippered mouth mask. Our IKEA decorated bedroom had been turned into a den of torture like something out of S&M-Mart. Instead of books, d****s and butt plugs graced our bookcases. It was all too much.

The whistle of leather slicing through the air quickly brought me back to the game at hand. Sharp, burning pain crawled up my naked thigh. Through the veil of buckskin hugging my face I glared at my wife. The vows to love, honor, and cherish slipped away as she raised the bloodied strap.

�CHEATER, CHEATER--,� I cried again.

�What baby?� She leaned over me, fingers brushing the closed teeth of the zipper. �I couldn�t hear you. Did you say the safe words?�

I nodded vigorously.

�Did you say cheater, cheater?�

I nodded again with less vigor. �Let me down,� I ordered, my voice hard.

She wagged a pale pink manicured nail in my face. �I don�t think so. You�ve been a bad, bad boy.�

�No more games. If you don�t release me right now�,� I yelled, threads of fear replacing my anger. The copperier taste of fear filled my mouth and my head began to pound in earnest.

Her eyes widened, but her cold smile remained in place.

�Jenny, please.� I softened my tone. �Let me down now. I said the safe words so the game is over.�

�You�re right it is.� She stabbed me in the chest with a sharpened nail. �It�s all over.� Pulling open our dresser drawer, she reached inside and removed a red lace thong that wasn�t hers. She snapped it in front of my face.

I swallowed heavily. �I can explain�.� Where had she found it? Was the thong Candi�s? I remembered her in lace�Or it could be Sally, or Megan�s.

�Can you really explain this?� She twirled the thong in her hand. �How long?�

�It isn�t what it looks like,� I said slowly. �She means nothing to me�� SMACK. The sting of her palm against my a*s reverberated around the room. I yelped, �Come on Jenny, it was a one night thing. You don�t want to throw away ten years over one mistake. Think of what a divorce will cost you.� Taking a ragged breath, I quickly calculated the cost of a divorce�alimony and support payments for Chelsea, our three-year-old terrier, selling the house, a new trophy wife...

�Again you are right.� She stripped off the leather gloves that protected her delicate skin. �A divorce isn�t what I have in mind.�

I smiled, the pressure in my chest easing. Relief filled me as she reached for the cuffs circling my feet. Things would be okay. I�d buy her a nice diamond with enough carats to erase the bad taste of infidelity.

�I�ll make it right,� I promised. �It will never happen again.� That statement was less sincere. After all, power and money by definition meant p***y and lots of it. I drove a f*****g Mercedes. What did Jenny expect?

�No, no it won�t.� She balled the lace in her fist and shoved it into my open mouth. Pausing, she added, �S&M can be a dangerous game. People get hurt, even die��

�Wmmahhahhah,� I murmured over the fabric. The Candi flavored panties smothered my pleas as Jenny sashayed out of the room.

Ok... so this isn't that good, but here it is anyway.
This is probably the most passive-agressive fight scene ever :)

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The wall behind my back slithered as I crouched against it. In the distance, I heard the thump of heliocopter blades and the screams of other victims. Yet, they hadn�t spotted me. Footsteps clapped around the corner. I kept my eye on the building across the way, my rifle moving only with the intake of breath. Closer. Closer.

Now.

I sprung around the corner and shot at the helmeted figure. My pulse cannon's blue bolts seared through the air leaving the tracer light burnt into my eye. The helmeted man shot backwards and landed on the dirty street.

�Dude, you have God mode on again,� Sam yelled in my ear. �I shot you three times when you came around that corner.�

My fingers flashed across the buttons and an icon disappeared off of the screen. �I don�t have it on, you just hit my armor.�

I didn�t need God mode to beat him, but I felt the angry clawing in my stomach like someone had let a cat loose to play. I switched to a sniper rifle and started to find somewhere to camp. It wasn�t like I had any say in the matter anyway. I mean Sam and Samantha, it was almost like they were born to be together, right?

�What�s bugging you anyway?� Sam said through the headset. He had his Xbox set up two rooms down, but we liked playing through the server. Just so the other one could glance over his shoulder to see the screen.

I picked a high spot in some ruined buildings and set up my sniper scope view. The scattered rubble came into clear focus on my screen. Sometimes we played co-op, but mostly we stuck to death matches because killing each other was more fun.

�Nothing�s bugging me,� I lied. I saw you kiss her, you a*****e. After all of those nights I told you that I really liked her. You couldn�t accept it. I sat back on my bed and waited for his avatar�s head to cross through my scope. A cruel smile crept across my face.

�Whatever, so where are you hiding?� I saw his avatar�s head pass through my scope. I waited and adjusted the scope height so it would be a perfect head shot. His voice whined through the headset again, �Are you camping? I hate when you do that.�

You can hate it all you want, you prick. His avatar�s head passed through my scope again and I fired. One shot, one kill. But I didn�t stop. I fired again and again. Trying to will the animated corpse to jump as the bullets entered it. Wanting to extract some joy from this victory, but even the Xbox wouldn�t let me enjoy this moment.

�F**k it,� I whispered into the headset. I think I might have cried.

�Dude, are you pissed about me seeing Samantha?� he said casually. �Don�t worry, there are a lot of other fish in the sea.�

I flicked God mode on again.

Other fish in the sea, huh? I'm not sure if we'd decided to review these, but here goes. One of the things I like best about your writing is the sense of humor rolled into a real sense of justice. For a 500 word prompt, this takes off into a whole different light. First off, I love the expectation of live action. I was busy trying to figure out what kind of battle the narrator was engaged in and than, BLAM, it's all a game (which I should have guessed seeing as you say you are a geek). The God mode thing is a perfect characterization, even if I didn't quite understand why he was using it until the following paragraph. I also liked the ending and the making the corpse jump. Another excellent, cut through the BS, characterization.

Okay, now for the rougher stuff. I would have liked to see a bit more development of Sam, because even if he just screwed over his friend, they are friends for a reason. It doesn't hurt as much if you don't care about both parties, so the betrayal is what I see affecting the narrator. Therefore, I want to know why? Sam can't be that much of an a*****e if the narrator is his friend...but then again, you did only have 500 words...so my comment is sort of off base...

The other rough spot was when you referred to Sam and Samantha...since you hadn't introduced Samantha as a character yet, I found myself confused as to who and what you were referring to. I think that line might work better further on. Because it is a good one, but just in an awkward place.

As an aside, this is a good piece because it touches on emotions we have all experienced, and the child-like revenge we employ to deal with it. Nicely done.

Bounty
Dante

�You calling me a cheater?� Well over six feet tall and rolling with tattooed muscles, the player opposite Jesse shoved to his feet unsteadily, giving vent to the infamous Italian temper.
�Hey now, guys, nobody�s calling anybody a cheater,� Vincent protested, waving his hands over the table.
Jesse threw Kara, leaning against the bar, a wink. Every good routine needed a straight man, and they�d deliberately left Vincent in the dark. �I don�t know about that. Maybe he is a cheater,� Jessie said, also rising to his feet.
�I don�t like being called a cheater.� The enormous Italian loomed over the table, fixing Jesse with an evil eye.
�Then you shouldn�t cheat.� Jesse shrugged.
The Italian shook his fist at Jesse. �You�re asking for it, m**********r.�
Casually, Jesse rolled up his sleeves. The Italian had at least 50 pounds of bodybuilder muscle on him, and several inches, but Jesse Jamison did not back down from a fight, even if he looked more like a �take it easy� surfer dude with his bleached blonde hair and lean form that a bruiser. Seeing things getting serious, Vincent jumped to his feet, thrusting his arms between the two potential combatants. �Guys, guys! Let�s just all sit down�.�
�F**k off,� the Italian shoved Vincent away, sending him reeling over his chair.
Bouncing right back to his feet, Vincent snarling, �Did you just f*****g shove me?� The Italian might have had a size advantage over Jesse, but not over Vincent. Leaning forward on the table to deliberately expose the prison tattoos on his forearm, Vincent continued, �I hope you didn�t just f*****g shove me.�
The Italian, however, was too drunk to properly respond to the threat. �Yeah, you wanna make something of it?�
�Yeah, I do.� Now Vincent was raising his fist.
Time for Kara to step in. Sauntering over from the bar, she dropped a slim hand on the Italian�s shoulder, murmuring in his ear. �Now you boys don�t want to get this place in trouble with a brawl do you? After they�re so nice about letting you play poker here?�
�F**k this place,� the Italian grumbled, but his aggressiveness wavered at the distraction of Kara, in a short black skirt showing all of her legs and a tight, cleavage-baring tube top.
Grinning, she capitalized on his distraction, pressing her body against his arm. �See, you don�t want to fight.�
Vincent gaped at Kara apparently taking the side of the enemy. Jesse warned him against saying anything with a tight shake of his head. The Italian, having turned his full attention to Kara, purred, �But he called me a cheater.�
�I know, I know.� Her hand crawled up his neck, fingernails teasing the tips of his hair. �But� you know�.� She cocked her head sideways, winking at Jesse, �I don�t think I got your name, sexy.�
He leaned closer, nuzzling her nose with his. �It�s Dante, baby.�
�DANTE?� Vincent shouted. He turned a wide-eyed gaze on Jesse, who just shrugged.
�Yeah, what�s it to you?� Dante muttered, unwilling to turn his attention from Kara.
�You�re�.� Again, Jesse silenced Vincent with a warning head shake.
Kara took a step back. �Well, it�s nice to meet you Dante.� And she slammed a fist right into his nose.
Spurting blood everywhere, Dante staggered, screaming, �What the f**k!�
Kara laughed, circling him warily. Wiping blood out of his eyes, Dante swiped at her. She ducked under the first blow, but the second glanced off her shoulder, spinning her. �Wanna give me some help here, boys?� She laughed, retaliating with a backwards boot to Dante�s crotch region.
�You look like you�re doing fine on your own,� Jesse chuckled, but nonetheless hopped into the fray behind Dante. Vincent continued to stare, open mouthed.
Jesse drove his knee into the small of Dante�s back, sending him stumbling toward Kara. She responded by clocking him in the temple with the side of her hand and spun him to face Jesse, shoving him back. By the time Dante�s momentum had carried him to Jesse, Jesse had removed his gun from the small of his back, stopping Dante in his tracks with a barrel under the chin. �You know, I think the lady was right. You should just calm down,� he growled.
Dante swallowed hard, pushing his Adam�s apple against the steel. �Yo, man, it�s cool, it�s cool,� he slurred.
�Yeah, it is,� Jesse smiled. �Now put your f*****g hands over your head.� Slowly, Dante complied, and Jesse called to Vincent. �Hey, Vince, you wanna get some cuffs on this guy?�
As Vincent pushed past Jesse, he muttered, �You coulda told me we were after a mark.�
�Yeah, but then you wouldn�t have responded so perfectly,� Jesse quipped.
�F**k you, man,� Vincent growled while he collected Dante�s hands behind his back and handcuffed them together. After patting Dante down for weapons and removing a pair of switchblades, Vincent began escorting him out of the establishment.
Jesse offered Kara his arm, and together they followed. Laughing to herself, Kara whispered, �Was he really cheating?�
Jesse laughed and paused to toss a few hundred dollar bills on the table to pay for the drinks. �Nope.�
�Sure looked like he was.�
Again, Jesse winked at her, and pulled a few aces out of his jeans pockets. �But I was.�

(And if you guys want to see this with the paragraph breaks, you can go see it on my profile - because writerscafe is too smart for me.)

-cc

Hello all ::cool::

      At first I was going to combine all three of your stories into a crazy ending but I didn't know how you guys would take that. So I dug out an excerpt of a chapter that had a fight scene I wrote about a year ago. Surprise I sucked back then also. I added the word cheats in there and I feel like I am cheating on this assignment ::drool::

      The cool river water had worked it�s resuscitation to some degree and he made his way back to where he had seen the Nij�s last step. The pebble rock shore was soft and sandy leaving behind a well preserved print. It looked nearly human at first under the pal moon light. Sam guessed it would be about size eleven or so. It showed a deep indention of a heel then a space and then the balls of a foot. Only thing missing were toes. There was something extra that he almost overlooked. A long and then line was cut into the river shore. It started about 6 or seven inches from where a middle toe should have been. It must look like a cross between a meat hook and a blade. The thin sliver of sliced soil hinted it to be more blade-like.

      Jay walked up dripping wet and noisy with the pebbles crunching under his weight. He was breathing hard and angry. Sam held up a hand signaling him to stop. He took out the nearly credit card sized Casio digital camera from his back pocket. The screen lit up Sam�s face momentarily and a white light flashed a picture. Sam rose and looked at Jay. Fuc.. freaking idiot.

�I wo would�ve hahadem,� The wet man said. The words were meant to sound mad and argumentative, Sam thought, but in Jay�s stutter they nearly lost all meaning. Looking into his eyes, even under this half moon, he could see they were glassy. He always stutters bad when he�s hi. He also didn�t see a gun. He is high as a fu..freaking kite� Little Lady, he reminded himself.

�Take a good look jay.� Sam pointed to the one clawed print. �You see that line there, that thing had a claw longer than a bowie knife for a toe. What do you think it had for fingers? Huh? Where�s your gun? What did you think you were going to do wrestle it to death?

Jay pointed a fat finger at Sam and begane to jab as if it would lossen his toungue, �I..i..i..uh.. arghhh�� Jay yelled in frustration.

      �You�re stoned Jay. Again� You�ve been with that w***e again haven�t you? When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours she doesn�t give a flip about you. It�s you�re wallet Jay, that�s all she loves is your wallet.�

� Sh.sh..she to took the ring.�

      Like a lawyer pulling out all the stops Sam threw his hands high in the air. �Oh now wait a minute. Which ring did she take? Over the past two years you have showed me plenty, carrying them in your pocket like its freaking show and tell day. How much did this one set you back, fifteen grand? Don�t say it�s so. I can see by the look on your face it�s higher, must have been twenty. Yea that sounds bout right, twenty.�

�You�re wrong. Shsh-She loves me.�

      �You listen good Jay, She will never marry you. If you bought her a ring so big it took two hands to wear she still wouldn�t marry you. You get her hi and you buy her things, other than that, she wouldn�t care if you jumped off a cliff. She already cheats on ya. She�s a w***e that takes money for sex. Trust me she�d suck a Clydesdale off for a heck of lot less than you think. Just you ask her. At least that would be worth you�re money to see. Know what, don�t. I�ll ask, how�s that?� Sam finished with a hand on a hip

      Sam had gone too far and he knew it. Jay�s hands were balling into fists quick. He�d have to handle it like a car going too fast on a rainy road and coming up on a sharp curve. He had to pray for a shoulder and floor the sucker. A one hundred and sixty pound Sam back handed a three hundred pound plus Jay with all his might and grab his collar and jammed his face nose to nose with his. �My daughter lives six miles from here up this river. If you ever respond to a call stoned or with out a gun I personally will blow you�re ugly head off.� Sam turned and walked off. Foots steps didn�t follow him and jay didn�t say a word.

It worked�

Okay, okay, I get it:


"I know you was cheatin' on me!" Paula screamed real loud.

"I totally was not!" Paul screamed even as loud.

But Paula new he was lying because of an exciting moment earlier when she met his lover and they ended up totally making out. Now they loved each other and needed Paul's money for a boutique they's gonna open in Brazil or Chechnya. So Paula totally shot him. In the head, too. He flopped around like a fish would if it wasn't in water. 'Cept Paula don't like seafood. So she shot him again. In the head.

'That's what you get. For cheatin'. And I love her and she loves me."

And so they drove off totally making out in Paul's brand new car he was always cleaning instead of giving it to Paula, who's hot, and they crossed the border before even the cops knew the trail was cold.

"You know what, Barbb," cuz that was her name, with two b's, "I think I might like seafood, after all." And they kept riding south into the Mexicali sunset.

FIN


THanks for that. I needed to let go of some tension. O, and this is a first draft, so point out any grammatical errors you see.

a little PS: in no way was I trying to offend with the stupid story above. It was late and I was fighting the piece I'll turn in Sunday and I needed a little silliness. Should feel out the group before I try things more (eeewww).

Nice bit of silliness and so glad you joined in the little prompt exercise. We are debating making it a regular occurrence. Anyways, funny stuff, told in a unique way. I did have two thoughts while reading it. One was after reading that Paula shot him again because she didn't like seafood, but I thought she was a sleeping with a girl...so I made the logical leap to seafood. So when she said it again later, it lost some of the impact and funny it would have had...but then again, without that line regarding him flopping around... Rock and a hard place I think.

The second thing is...it will be fun to have you in the group. I look forward to reading more, and you'll have to try much harder to offend most of the players. We are a sick lot.

Julie

Thank you, Julie, that was very nice of you to say. I didn't think the context would offend anyone, but I also wanted to make it clear that I wasn't making fun of the exercise or anyone's corresponding stories. Being the sensitive writer type, myself, I understand how the correlation could be drawn.

As for the story, I wrote it in about thiry seconds and tried to break as many story rules as possible. Although, it does end up having something of an arc and there is a climax and resolution. Guess I just can't hide these amazing talents under a bush if I tried. You make a good point about repeating the seafood line. It does lose impact. I just love it when a bad movie takes an awful line and makes it the running gag.

I am very excited about this whole process and feel you three have created a great atmosphere. Here's to creative growth.

Jeff