The Good Life part the first
Septmeber 01, 2004

First there was an explosion. Then it rained dirt. Then it was blessedly quiet.
But only for a second.

There are two things Jay is aware of
1. She's alive
2. She wishes she were dead. Surely death can't hurt this much and
3. She hates the taste of dirt.

Okay, so there were three things.

"Elle? You alright?" she asks while coughing up more dirt.

"You are the worst psychic, ever!" Elle replies while choking out dirt of her own.

"*cough cough* For the bazillionth time, I? am not psychic!"

"No kidding!"

"Shut up!" she yelled while spitting out more dirt, "Gah. I hate dirt!"

"I don't think I've ever been this dirty before." says Elle as she slowly stands up brushing dirt off of...everything. "Ow."

"Double ow. Help me up. Wait, on second thought why don't you pick up that rock over there, beat me over the head with it, and throw the rest of this dirt on top of me?"

"I thought you hate dirt?"

sigh. "Are you gonna help me up? I think my ribs are broken," she winces.

"Again?"

"Hey, how come you're not hurt?"

"I landed on you," replies Elle as she reaches down to give her a hand.

"Of course you did," Jay replies reaching up.

"C'mon Jay, upsie-daisy!"

"Ow! oh ow! My elbow! Is dead!"

"Can the drama you sissy."

"Masochist!" she hisses.

"Oh baby..." Elle replies in Porn Voice.

"I'm your sister you sicko."

"My little sister, no less."

"By two and a half minutes!" The familiar arguement starting.

"C'mon, let's get out of here before the police or worse show up."

"Yeah, good ide- Elle?"

"Shit."

"Where's the car, Elle?"

"Shit. Shit."

"Please tell me you installed some kind of awesome cloaking device on the car?"

"Shit. Shit. Shitter Shit."

"Elle? The car?"

"Jay," she said in a voice way too calm for the situation, "We're walking home."

"Shit."

Jay shakes the dirt out of her short hair and dusts off her denim jacket. She and Elle start limping down the road.

"Elle?"

"Don't ask, Jay."

"Oh, so now you're the psychic one?"

"Shut up, Jay."

"Okay."

More walking.

"But if you had to guess, where would you say the car is?"

Elle cuts her eyes at Jay, which would normally be a very intimidating gesture, but seeing as how Jay has the same flashing sort of green eyes she's not the least bit intimidated.

"Well Jay, if I had to guess? I'd say the car? Is burried under the giant pile of dirt, or? If we're lucky? That guy stole it while we were being blown up with the pile of dirt. But hey, you're the psychic one, why don't you tell me where the car is?"

"Okay, your sarcasm? Not appreciated. Ow!"

"What?"

"I stubbed my toe. Hey! Where's my other shoe?!"

"Probably in the dirt pile, you know, where the car is."

"The car isn't in the dirt pile," she mumbles.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"What did you say?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you say something?"

"My head hurts."

"Should've left that in the dirt pile too."

"Hey!"

"How much dynamite did you have anyway?"

"Oh now you want to know about the dynamite?"

"On second thought, not really. That way? When I'm on the witness stand and they ask me about it? I won't have to lie."

Jay snorts, "Do you really think they'll be able to find 12 peers?"

"Do you really think you could walk any slower?"

They walk on in silence. But not for long.

"Hey! I've got it!"

"Got what? Thank God, I think we're only 3 miles from the house."

"My cell phone! I'll call Liz and have her come pick us up at Jeffery's, it's just down the street, like half a mile or something. That way we won't have to walk all the way home. I'm a Genius!"

"Jeffery's? The 24 hour diner?"

"Yeah," Jay says as she literally digs throught the pockets of her jacket, throwing dirt onto the street. "Maybe get some pancakes while we wait- aha!"

"Aha pancakes?"

"Aha cell phone!" she says triumphantly. She pulls a crushed piece of dirty plastic out of one of her pockets. "Damn."

"Okay Ima Genius, keep walking."

"That's the third one this month!"

"Fourth."

Jay thinks for a minute, "No no, just three. There was the blue one and the grey one and well, this one. And i had just figured out how to set the alarm on it too."

"What about the purple one?"

"Oh, well yeah. The purple one. But no, that was on the 31st. See this is a new month."

"Oh for the love of-"

"Hey look! A gas station! With a pay phone!"

"And?"

"And?! And we can call Liz to come pick us up! We'll be home in no time."

"Jay, that's a great idea," she says in a patient voice, "But our purses? They're in the car. You know, that car that's under all that dirt because of the dynamite that you blew up?," Elle sighs, "I really loved that purse too."

"Okay, Negative Nancy, first of all? I brought the dynamite. I did not detonate it. He did. And secondly, the car? Is not under the dirt pile."

"Oh! And tell me, O Great Swami Jay, O Wondrous Seer, where then, is the car?"

Jay stops walking. "I hate when you call me that."

Elle stops and faces her, "I know."

"i'm not. freaking. psychic." Jay says punctuating each word with a poke to Elle's chest.

"i. know." Elle pokes back.

"How about we keep walking?"

"Sounds perfect. So what's the 20 on the car, Swami Jay?"

"I dunno," she says, rubbing her forehead, smearing the dirt that's already there. "I just have a feeling it's not in the dirt pile, that's all," she shrugs.

"Oh I see! Is this another one of your feelings? Do you feel that the car isn't burried under the dirt?"

"Look-"

"Just like how you felt you should bring the dynamite?!"

"Look!"

"And how you felt that we should explore the industrial dirt pit whatever, because you had a feeling that something bad was gonna "go down"? That kind of feeling?"

"Dammit Elle," Jay yells, "Look!"

"What?!"

Pointing, "The car! It's over there at the gas station!"

"What?!"

"If we run we can get to it before the guy comes back out."

"I'll be damned," mutters Elle.

"Let's go! You've got the car keys right?"

"Yeah. Front pocket. Run!"

As they get closer to the gas station they can see that the guy is robbing the place. Jay runs to the passenger side door only to find that it's locked.

"Hurry up, Elle!"

"Jay, look out!"

But before Jay can react someone grabs her by the arm and twists her around. She's too stunned to even think about defending herself or blocking a punch directly aimed for her stomach.
And that? Is why it's called a sucker punch.

"hey! oof!" And all the air rushes out of her lungs. Did a cloud of dust just come out of my mouth? She wonders, and feels grit in her teeth. "I hate dirt," she says raising up to see the soon-to-be-dead person who sucker punched her.

But before she can get a good look at the dead man she's whacked on the head with, A blackjack? What is this, 1942? Oh hey, you really do see stars. She's out like a light before she hits the ground.

Ah, blessed unconsciousness.

*****

Next Week's Epitomb: Chapter 2: The twins order one from Column A and one from Column B.

jaimie "i'm not psychic" pickle