Controversial Jack and the fall of Western Society... by a guy who lives in the eastern society but knows enough about western society to know that it's screwed up enough... at least, what he learns from TV anyways... Eisu "The Eye of the beholder" -------- The birds are flying again. They always fly at this time of the night. Even though the sun is up, the daytime is dark enough to say it's midnight. Of course, that may be just because of the sunglasses he's wearing. He looks up. He sees those birds flying across him and all he could think of is just how tasty they would be if they were to be made a quiche. The birds left out a colorful aura behind them. And aura that's dignifying their existence as a happy type of animals. Always sheery, always chirping. Even when the birds are screaming for help it sounds melodious enough to say that they were actually singing. Which is, of course, why no one even bothered to look at him when he was marauding the birds with his bare hands. Tears them apart piece by piece, feather by feather, hoping that this will instill the beast in him for awhile. Much to his dismay, it doesn't. His neighbours, who's walking down the pavementof the quiet suburban area of Washington, has those grim aura around them. An aura that shows that they have done something wrong. And then, he remembered them. One was Mr.Smith, the other was Mrs.Johnson. And they were married, but here they are, walking down the streets, hopping ten feet in the air and floating a few seconds before they landed back again, happy as clams, holding each other's hands, as if they just had sex. Which is what they just did. They were married all right, but not to each other. Of course, he doesn't blame them. Mrs.Johnson always wears something flashy. Kinda like a slut and Mr.Smith always wears something tight. As if to show off something. They were bound to go for each other's lust. The tree he just climbed suddenly twisted on him and he fell down to the ground. Funny enough, the ground looked like clouds as he was about to make contact with it, but changed drastically into hard concrete as he impacted with it, which made his landing very painful on his left side. But then, for him, pain is pleasure. The two "couples" looked at him nervously. "Are you okay?" they asked. "Yeah, but what's it to ya?" he replied back. "Well, your hands are bleeding, are you sure you're okay?" asked the big biceped Mr.Smith. "These? These aren't my blood. They're those bird's" he said as he pointed back to the tree where a bloody bird's nest rested upon one of it's branches. In shock, the two "couples" rushed to get away from him. They looked back at him for awhile and then walked as fast as they could. He looked back at them with an emotionless face and looked at his hands. He screamed a bloody screamed. Shocked the whole neighbourhood. "GOOD GOD! I'm bleeding!" he said. The neighbourhood looked from their porches to see what's going on. Of course, the neighbour who lived in front of him just looked from the window with fearful eyes. Knowing what type of man he really is. "Oh wait... no, it's nothing..." he said to himself and started to walk back into his house. The birds are flying again. -------- "Letters from the Canadians... letters from those animal people... letters from the Mexicans... hey, Anne, it's a letter from mom!" Jack was inside the oval office, reading the mails he just received from his last political decision. The desk was full of complaint letters. From Canadian people, from animal rights groups, a lot of them, from Mexican people, and even people who wants Jack to resign. "Jack, there is no mom" said Anne, who's starting to get bored being in the White House. Here she is, trying to keep Jack from destroying the country, butshe haven't done anything yet that would insure her country's safety from the maniacal clutches of her brother. "I know, I was just testing to see if you're listening." "I am, I am... Jack, what are you gonna do about these complaints? These letters are plain proof that you need to take back what you just did" "No way, I'm not gonna take back my word. Plus, those decisions are insuring I get my Harp Seal patties for every lunch I have everyday." "Those decisions are going to create World War III! And it's gonna be everyone, including our own country, againts US!" Anne yelled back at Jack, hoping against all odds, against all hopes in the world, against everything she ever believed of her borther, that this will change him. Sadly, this is Jack Lysias. "Is what you said U.S without the dot or US as in we?" was his answer. To that reply, Anne stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. "I wonder what got into her shorts?" said Jack to his faithful Vice-President, Mr.Duck. -------- "I told you, the intern doesn't have ANY effect on him! He cares for the intern like he cares for this country" "Which is absolutely why we must go for the intern. In my last case..." "SCREW YOUR LAST CASE!" "My last case was a screw case. The..." "I meant SHUT UP!" The people in the restaurant looked at the two people sitting at the booth near the window. The man with the smart tie and cool, glasses looked around the restaurant and then edged himself closer to his "accomplice". "Look, this guy doesn't care for this country. This guy CAN make the downfall of western society come true, yes, but I doubt in all my life that Jack is the Anti-Christ. Hell, I doubt Jack would be an Anti anything. What he is, is insane. He doesn't think, he hallucinates. He thinks this world is a toy for him. He thinks controversial issues are his personal belongings. They don't call him Controversial jack for being nice." "Then, an intern would make a GREAT controversial issue. I know, my last case..." With that said, the handsome man stormed out of the restaurant and slammed the restaurant door behind him. Too bad the restaurant door have one of those thingamajigs atop of it that prevents any slamming of doors or what he had did might have put a great impact to his friend. Outside, the man went to a phone booth and dialed 2 numbers. "I can't work with this guy, he's too stubborn to listen!" shouted the man into the phone. "You can't do anything about that. It's either he listens to you, or you listen to him" said a man from the other side of the phone. "But I know more about Jack than anybody! We went to school together dammit! He have a multiple originality disorder for god's sakes, and I know each and every one of them! Yes, all 400 of them! I shouldn't listen to anybody! Everybody should listen to me!" Then, the phone got picked away from his hands and put back to it's resting place on it's booth. "Oh, but I'm not everybody Joe, I'm somebody. I'm Kenneth Starr. And everybody listens to me ever since my last case" Joe looks at Kenneth with a face full of fear suddenly. And whimpers as he is about to become a lackey to one of the most powerful worded man on earth(I mean, for god's sakes, this guy did a 400 page report about a big guy in a White House screwing an Intern, or so I was led to believe). He shook his head for a moment and looked back up. "Let's go Joe, the birds are flying again." -------- Epilogue: He looked up, seeing the stars. Now it's really night time. No more sunglasses. But he still wore them. The auras around him was so bright, he could barely see a thing if he didn't wear the sunglasses. The trees around him are dancing. Free as a bird, they are. But birds, are not THAT free, I'm afraid, he thinks to himself. He took a look around, and grabbed the beer can that stood on a small wooden table beside him. The can was all twisted and spinning like a RXZ Motor Tyre going 120 miles per hour. His hands are building up smoke trying to stop the spin. But then the smoke is gone, and so is the spin, and not to mention the twist. And the trees are back rooted to the ground. But the colorful aura is still around. No, one strand of it. One happy strand. It came from a tree. No, it doesn't. It came from his rooftop. He looked up, and he saw them. Little itty bitty birds. Baby birds. Birdlings? No such word. He took a ladder from the store room in the shack at the backyard and puts it right on the side of the porch, leaning it to the roof's edge. He climbed up the ladder and peered up to the roof. The baby birds are inside a comfy little nests. Their chirping hungrily. Must be waiting for it's momma to come home and give it it's nightly dinner. Well, he wants dinner too. And he likes what he see. The time went by fast. Just a second ago, there was a bird's nest on the rooftop, right in front of him too. And then, a second later, all he knows is that his hand is covered in blood, and the bird's nest? For all he knows it just disappears into thin air. Not that it matter to him. At least his sudden hunger pang is gone. He climbed back down the stairs and watched the tree dancing in front of him. He went into his house and locked the door behind him. "The birds are flying again" -------- To be continued -------- Sorry, worked this on the last minute, and it may look like I missed the whole of last part done by Tom Harahan, but I didn't... but I'm such a bad writer that I couldn't follow up to his part nicely. Sorry Tom. Huh? What? oh... it's Tim? Whoops.... uhh... sorry Tim.