A story writing blog

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Jason Met Leatherface Once and It Was Adorable.

The above pic is from a comic series called Jason vs Leatherface. At the end of the first issue Jason is invited to have dinner with the family (the meal consisting of people that they killed) and they ask Jason his name. His response was to dip his hand in a cup of blood and write his name on the wall in a childlike font that will bring a smile to your face. So precious. 

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

The Time I Got My Ass Kicked

Here's a re-post that was popular the first time around, it's a true life story about the time some fat hillbilly jumped me in a bar.

The Biggest Ass Kicking I've Ever Taken

I can honestly say that I've taken a movie level ass whopping at least once in my life, the kind of ass whopping that leaves a man stumbling through a crowd, covered in his own blood. The kind of ass kicking that I am lucky to walk away from without any lingering consequences. Unsurprisingly this story takes place in a bar.

There's a town called Whitby east of Toronto that actually has a really lively night life, weekends always have a celebratory feel over there. The small downtown core gets so crowded with people looking to have a good time that it spills out into the street and the party gets taken outside just about every other weekend. It's important you know that because I want you to understand just how crowded this bar was and how many people were witness to the beat down I took. It's in these testosterone filled environments that a very specific type of asshole likes to lurk, this is the kind of asshole who gets drunk and then goes around looking for fights to get into. He puffs out his chest like a gorilla and glares threateningly at everyone who dares to have a bigger d**k than he does. Good luck avoiding him. If he doesn't like your face he's going to find you and this guy really must not have liked my face because he tried to rearrange it.


I went to the bars that night with a group of about 6 people, we went to a crowded club that I wasn't feeling so I left along with another friend for the more chill pub across the street. It was crowded but nothing like the club we'd just left, we were even able to find a table along the back wall. We ordered pints and settled in, I barely started mine when a group of about 5 guys walked past our table. The second last guy to walk past carelessly knocked over my entire glass and kept walking, the last guy to walk past noticed and sympathetically said that he would talk to his friend. In retrospect I should have just asked the waitress for a replacement glass but when you're 22 you can't just let something like that go. What kind of classless dipshit knocks over a man's beer and doesn't offer to pay for the drink, like...man code. Am I right? I felt punked. I knew I still had the sympathetic ear of at least one of that group of friends so I decided to head down to the small crowded hallway leading to the washrooms where they were standing and have a talk with them. Why were they all hanging around the washroom? I didn't even stop to think how weird that was until just now but that's where they all were; just hanging out by the washroom like a bunch of beer spilling pervs. As well as I can remember this was the conversation that took place in that hallway.

Hey, buddy you knocked my pint over.
So? It was an accident

ARRRRRRRRRRRRGGG that annoyed me when he said that. So he DID know that he knocked over my drink and still never offered to pay for it; he noticed and he still just kept walking. Think of how classless that is. Cool people pay for a man's drink if they knock it over, really cool people make a joke out of it and turn the whole experience into a positive one with a fresh beer as your reward for accepting his apology. Imagine if Bill Murray knocked over your beer, he'd turn that into the night of your life. He'd pay for your table, he'd knock over his own beer comedically, it would end up on the internet and everyone would ask you about it.

This guy wasn't Bill Murray. He was the opposite of Bill Murray, he was Murray Bill. He knocked over a man's drink and refused to pay for it even when he was confronted about it. 
You're paying for it!

Noooo. It was an accident.

That's as far as that conversation would go because appearing from around the corner was THE asshole. I never turned to look at him, I kept my glare on the man who owed me money. Out of the corner of my eye I could make out a big, fat, sweaty gorilla charging my way.

Get the F**K out of here right now.

(Never turning his stare from the man who owed him money, dismissive of this new threat)
F**k you.

I dare you to say F**K me one more time.

(while turning to face his attacker)
F**K Y...
He hit me. I didn't even have my head turned towards him, he took the coward's opportunity for a sucker punch. When you get nailed with a heavy blow like that there's no pain, there's just a buzzing. A vibrating. Confusion. I was on the floor, I realized I'd been hit and tried to get back up. More buzzing. Everything was blurry, I felt really tired. I remembered what happened, I knew I was hit by someone now standing over me; shouting with the crowd. I knew I'd been hit several more times when I was down, wide open. I was told later by a witness that after I was hit the first time he followed me to the ground and punched and kicked me a few more times in the face. I wasn't out though, I never went out. He hit me with everything he had and he couldn't keep me down, that's what I take away from this fight. I wasn't going to stay down, I was pissed. My plan was to get up, shake it off and get revenge as soon as I was able to get my body working again. I got to my feet, at that point the hallway had filled with spectators and the bar was in an uproar. I was COVERED in my own blood and couldn't walk straight. I remember my instinct being to get some space, I needed to recover for a minute. I had to get some motor control back before I went after what I could now for the first time see was a large, fat, drunk hillbilly who was at that point taunting the hostile crowd. I moved to take the fight outside.
I was drenched in my own blood and wobbling around as I tried to make my way out into the street; fully intending on continuing this fight. The bartender was screaming at my attacker that he's been in too many fights in his bar and now he was banned. I made my way to the door, my attacker was in tow. RIGHT when I got to the door I ran into my other friends who had just left the club, I still remember the shock on their faces. They were looking at a zombie who kind of resembled the friend they had last seen only minutes before. Right behind my friends were the police, one friend guided me into an ambulance and begged me to press charges and I regret to this day that I didn't immediately listen to him. There was a part of me that wanted to find this guy myself and another part of me who genuinely couldn't remember how the fight started and was having trouble processing information. The police saw that I was in no condition for questions so they told me to take their card, go home and recover and call them in the morning if I wanted to press charges. During that time my other friends had gotten into a confrontation with the group of guys who spilled my beer and the fat hillbilly who jumped me. The hillbilly ran to his car and sped off with the chicken s**t who knocked over my beer and the two spent the night blowing each other, probably. Outside the bar waiting for the cab home I was approached by people who saw what happened. They offered what information they had on the guy, I never got his name but I know he has a twin brother also from Whitby and the two were well known for starting fights in the area. 

The next day, clear headed I used the card the officer gave me and called to press charges. He didn't answer, I left messages, he didn't respond. I always hoped that knowing he was a twin would narrow the list of suspects enough to where I could track this guy down myself but it never worked out. Everyone I knew from Whitby had never heard of him, his trail ran cold and eventually I had to let it all go. I hear Christians say they forgive their attackers, I hear survivors saying they've managed to forgive acts of violence against them far more severe than getting popped in head from behind by some smelly orangutang but I am just not wired that way. I hate that guy. I'll always hate that guy, I'll never forgive what he did. It was cowardly and dangerous. If anyone is reading this and knows a twin from Whitby who liked to get in fights every weekend, look him dead in the eye for me and call him a 'bitch'. Then call his twin brother over and do the same to him.

-Thomas Holler-

Monday, March 17, 2014

Chocolate Chip Spider

Here's a script I wrote a while ago about three roommates trying to decide if a something is a spider or a chocolate chip.

Script - the Spider
Scene: RICK is sitting on the couch shouting to CHRIS who has locked himself in the other room.

Ok, it’s probably gone now

Did you see it leave? Why didn’t you kill it?

I never kill spiders

Well from now on I want you to ALWAYS kill spiders

I don’t know why you’re so scared of a little thing like that, it’s not like we have tarantulas here.

I am not scared of spiders, I just hate them. They make me so mad I scream.

And run away, and hide.

I go to my room to cool off because I am mad, I HATE that spider

What spider? I don’t even see anything

It’s right THERE

That’s a chocolate chip

That’s a spider, I can see it’s legs

Those are hairs, or mold or something. HAROLD YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE CLEANING THIS PLACE!

I was just in the other room reading

You’re a liar. HAROLD I want to you to do a complete sweep of this house for spiders.

And I want you to clean up this chocolate chip and tell me if it’s a spider.

You’re a pig, you’re a disgusting pig….well tell us what it was you pig. Was it a spider or a chocolate chip?

Kind hard to tell (HAROLD is wearing a face on him that almost looks like he just bit into a lemon, tears and all). How is a spider supposed to taste?

Not chocolaty

Probably a spider then

Monday, March 10, 2014

This Is Real. I Did This and Not To Be Funny.

Is a single man with little long term relationship experience qualified to write a romantic comedy about falling in love? Yes and you can consider this my resume.

 and last impression.

Consider that a free taste.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Romantic Comedies. Why I Hate Them And Why I Am Going To Write One.

At exactly what point did Hollywood decide that all characters in romantic comedies should live like the Rich Kids of Instagram? Super trendy, young professionals with lavish lifestyles and lots of free time. Y'know the rest of us go on dates too don't you Hollywood? The average person. I know you like to tell us that we love the fantasy that you present, we're supposed to get lost in the escape of it all. When I see Anna Faris and Chris Evans playing a game of strip H.O.R.S.E in the middle of Madison Square Garden I am supposed to giggle about what a cute, sexy date that would be rather than sneer at the TV screen for showing me something so stupid.

...I'll forgive it this time.

MSG's kind of an important arena, they don't just leave it unattended, and a bouncing basketball in an empty arena is pretty damn loud. Did they pay off security to look the other way? Do they have the kind of clout where they can just walk onto the most famous court in the world and drop their pants? I am telling you right now I can't do that. No arena in the world will let me take girls onto their courts to mess around with, they make that very clear by how many people they employ to keep me out.

I rage watch all romantic comedies, they really bother me. Of all the one's I've seen I think 'Friends With Benefits' did the most damage to my coffee table. Justin Timberlake played a 25 year old guy who started up his own very successful media company who's being recruited by a huge firm that wants to hand him the keys to their media division and a six figure salary. Justin's always being told how talented he is throughout the whole movie, frequently by Mila Kunis. His f**k buddy. She's not the trampy kind of f**k buddy either, she's a beautiful 23 year old executive assistant in charge of talent aquisition who makes her own schedule and has 24 hour access to the company limo and all the city's most exclusive clubs. Just like you and me. You know what's really annoying? It's never enough for this guy. He's never happy. He's always conflicted about his beautiful life full of riches, admiration, success and casual sex.

shut the f**k up, crybaby. 

Enough is enough, I can do better than that. I can write a romantic comedy that doesn't need eye popping first dates to get my love story across. I'll write about how real people actually date and fall in love. I've been feeling pent up lately, badly looking for a new project to start writing and this idea will finally let me tackle my first full length script so I am going all in on this. I intend to write a romantic comedy script, posting my progress on my blog with frequent updates. That's what I am going to be working on for a while. My characters won't have long tearful monologues about their feelings because that almost never happens in real life, they'll actually have regular jobs and regular boring lives. They'll have to fall in love because of how they click as people without the cheat of being impossibly beautiful and successful. The friends of the male character won't be a mix of playboys who want to keep him single and married guys who try to sell him on the beauty of relationships. The female characters won't just stand around waiting to be swept off their feet and they won't be fiercely independent to the point where it just comes across as snotty and annoying.

I've written a script about prisoners under house arrest being investigated for posting d**k pics online.

A sweet, funny romantic comedy is the next logical step for me. 


Thomas actually did try writing some relationshipy dialogue a couple times before: