Ground up in the Engines

After waking up and getting a slew of e-mails and responding to all of them, writing a bit, doing some bank transfers, showering, eating, drinking some organic French vanilla coffee (fairly good for French vanilla coffee), I think I'm too tired to go to work.  Last night I watched a few episodes of Scare Tactics that I had recorded on the DVR, including the one with Zig the Clown, which I love.  I really enjoy the entire show, quite honestly, because I love seeing fear in people's faces.  Probably not the most positive aspect of my personality, but at least I can admit it.  How many dark things are there about you that you never think about, push to the side, ignore their existence?  How healthy is that?

Anyway, I'm sitting here thinking that I've filled up my weekend with things to do in one way or another (visiting friends; dinner, race in HD and soccer with Mirror; writing), and it dawned on me: I haven't done any creative writing in a while, and I have this idea floating around my head that really needs to be excised.

Those who know me well (and even some who think they do), know that when I don't do any creative writing I get a little nutty.  (I've only been doing non-fiction as of late -- book reviews, movie reviews, Romanian site stuff.)  I tend to break into character more often, say inappropriate things, generally creep people out.  (Yesterday was a good example.)  It doesn't really bother me, though.  It gives me an idea of what works and what doesn't, but I really do need to get the creative juices a flowing.

"I don't want to play with you!" -- Zig the Clown  (said right before he pulls out a roll of duct tape)

I like the idea of a show based around scaring the living hell out of people and taking it to the breaking point before letting them in on the joke.  It is interesting to see how people react.  It is thrilling to listen to them babble incoherently. 

"What are you doing with those fists?" -- Zig the Clown (soon after he lets himself into the bedroom)

I think I may start working on that story soon (no clowns in this one, just two guys on a spiraling path of violence that would put Henry Lee Lucas to shame).  That fills me with a sense of peace.  I will get these ideas out and then work on something else.

"I can see the clown."  -- the mark on the phone with the mother of the little girl she is babysitting (the clown was supposed to be a figment of the girl's imagination)

Ground up in the engines, but spit out whole.  Smiling through bloody, broken teeth.  To quote Rollins, "This will be the best one yet."