This is an experimental Creative Write/Free write. I wrote this in the Hive.Pizza DiscordPizza Guild Discord while sharing my screen and asking for input/direction/whatever from the community. I think it will be an interesting way to construct a post and have no idea how this will turn out!
Rules!
They are few:
Anyone else in the voice channel's input overrides mine- I will type and incorporate ideas and input as I do- ANYONE in voice can make me edit or whatever!
Pizza Tips for participants throughout the event.
Other than that this is a standard free writing format! So lets GOOOOOOO!
I looked around the room groggily. I seemed to be in some kind of ward. There was a beeping machine next to me. For some reason that made me worried. I moved and felt a sharp pain in my arm. Looking down I was confused to find tubes running up to the beeping machine. What the hell happened?
I lay there considering things for a moment, then a woman in a nurses uniform came into the room. She peered at the machine for a second, then greeted me in an odd way.
"Mr. Winchester? Colt Winchester?" The name didn't sound familiar to me. Why would she call me that? I'm.... Fuck what is my name....
The woman was talking again, I tuned her out as I considered my missing name and tried to make sense of the situation. I couldn't remember anything since.... since they told me to be ready to move some cash. The boss wanted to be prepared for a huge increase in our "laundry" operations. It seems like that was a while ago and I'm not sure what happened in between. My name though... What the hell is my name?
The nurse was busy pulling the tubes and needles from my arm, I focused on her badge for a second. It read "Karen."
"Nice haircut Karen. Tell me... why did you call me that?"
"You've been out for a while Mr. Winchester. It's not surprising you are confused. Colt Winchester is your name. At least. It's the name written on the ID you were carrying in your wallet. That was your wallet right?" She seemed to be looking at me curiously.
"Why wouldn't it be my wallet Karen? Let me see!" If she had my ID why would she be skeptical? "And what happened? I don't remember much." I don't remember anything, in fact, and just want confirmation that Colt Winchester really is my name.
She finished pulling the IV out and turned off the infernal beeping of the machine next to the bed. I tried to sit up and immediately fell back to the pillows.
"Don't try to move too much Mr. Winchester. You've lost a lot of your strength! It's been weeks." She crossed the room to a table against the far wall and pulled out a small wooden box that she brought over to me. Inside was a leather wallet, several rings, a mean looking switchblade, and a small scrap of paper- it looked like the corner of a napkin. It said "Rose" in the corner, and a number- too short to be a phone number. I opened the wallet- there was about about two hundred dollars in it. Mostly twenties and tens. Tucked in the spine of the wallet was a cylinder that looked like a rolled up single. It seemed very familiar and I sniffed suddenly. I pulled the ID out next. A New York drivers license. The name printed on it was Colt Winchester... Damn. I guess that is my name.
"You're a long way from home Mr. Winchester. What brought you to Naples?"
"Naples? Where the hell am I?" I thought we were in New York still. What state is Naples in again?
"You're in Florida. Like I said, a long way from home..." What would I have come down to Florida for? We don't have any operations here... at least not that I can remember!
"Exactly how long have I been in this bed Karen?" I asked here and then picked the rings up out of the box. One was a plain gold band... my wedding ring? It was too small anyway. The other was a heavy silver piece cast with a skull. It had stones set in the eyes. They glinted ominously at me in the light filtering in through the blinds. I caught a whiff of tobacco smoke and... something else... as I picked the wallet up again. It was familiar, but I couldn't place it exactly. Somehow skunky... I looked through the wallet again and found a business card in the front. It didn't have my name on it... It said "Capone Industries" and had a phone number.
"I need to make a call," I said to Karen. "Where's the nearest phone." I started to push myself up to get out of the bed once more, I felt stronger already.
"Mr. Winchester I don't think you should be getting out of bed. You've been through a lot." Suddenly I felt dizzy and grabbed my head as I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt thick bandages around my skull. I hadn't noticed them until now.
"WHAT HAPPENED?!" I shouted.
"Calm Mr. Winchester and I'll tell you. I can take can take you to make that call afterward." I stopped trying to stand up and just sat weakly on the bed, gripping the mattress with my hands. "You were shot. You are lucky to be alive. You've been in that bed for twenty five days. No one has come to visit you- but you've got the whole town talking! We did everything we could for you but you might never fully recover. I'm sorry to have tell you this sir, but there is a piece of the bullet still lodged in your head."
I slid off the bed onto the floor upon hearing that. Karen came and sat next to me and put her hand on my shoulder. Karen somehow smelled familiar, the name Rose flashed back through my tortured head.
"You were found at the scene of a drug bust. They confiscated 300 pounds of pot. For the first week or so everyone thought you were a criminal, but after a while people got talking about how you got shot and figured you must be some kinda hero. What were you doing there?"
"I can't remember Karen, the last thing I remember was a normal day at the office... Even that is fuzzy and I mean, damn, I forgot my own name!" Something felt off about the town thinking I'm a hero. I knew that much. I'm definitely not a hero. "I really have to make this phone call Karen. It's important. I can't remember why... but it is."
"Let's get you in a wheelchair and I'll take you to a phone then Mr. Winchester. You promise me you'll tell me when you remember? I want to know what you were doing there before the cops even showed up."
"Get me to a phone Karen, and I'll tell you whatever you want!" I struggled back to my feet with Karen's help and sat back on the bed while she left to get the wheelchair. I picked the silver ring back up out of the box where I had left it on the bed. I put it on my right hand, then took it off again... It didn't feel quite right. Karen was back in just a minute or two with the wheelchair and I managed to cross the room to the door on my feet before gratefully collapsing into it. I held the wallet in my hand ready to call the number on the business card. As Karen wheeled me towards a bank of phones along the hospital corridor a notice board with banners, postcards, and announcements tacked to it caught my eye. One poster in particular jumped out at me. It said "Rosie and the Buds, playing Friday night at Number 129...
Fifteen hundred miles away in a smoke filled office behind "Mister Bubble's Suds" Liam McHugh slammed his fists on the table.
"Boys! I don't care what you have to do! Just find him for me! It's been weeks and none of you have gotten any results! We lost two hundred grand! And the pot! If I don't see his head on a platter this week, NO, TOMORROW! We'll have to hire the Leprechaun...."
The room was filled with gasps and then incredulous, shocked silence.
"Boss, you sure about that? You know the Leprechaun don't stop once you pay him. Remember what happened to the McLeary's?" An unidentifiable voice inquired from gathered group of thugs, thieves, and dealer's that formed the bulk of McHugh's organization.
"I don't care if what happened to the Mcleary's happens to you lot. I just want the drugs or the money or both! They deserved it for how they use to talk about Da!" Silence reigned for another moment before the crowd of villains began to filter out of the room sheepishly. Liam McHugh sat heavily in his chair once they had all exited. He didn't dare tell any of the family, but unless they got some results, it was over. It had been a last gasp effort to turn things around for the family on 4/20. What better time to get into the weed markets, someone had suggested. It might even have been Colt's idea. All the more reason for his head on a platter.
The phone began to ring.
I dialed the number laboriously. I slammed the phone down half way through, and flipped the card over. I'm not sure why, or how I knew, but there was another number on the back... Handwritten. I started dialing again. Even the effort of getting into the wheelchair had exhausted me. It seemed to take forever before the phone started to ring. It only had time to ring once.
"Where did you get this number? Who is this?"
"Who's this? I got the number off a business card."
"This number isn't on any business cards. Where did you get it?"
"In my wallet... Who is this?" I started to get frustrated, the possibility of answers seemed to fading fast.
"I don't care how you got that number, if you can't tell me who you are I'm hanging up."
"Look. I just woke up in hospital after a month. I was shot. I found the number in my wallet. Who the hell is this?" A silence on the other end of the line for a moment.
"I don't care if you were shot! Where are you?" Suddenly his voice seemed familiar to me and I had a brief memory of a balding, fat, Irishman smoking a cigar at me across an enormous desk. He was waving a brick of cash at me.
"Who is this? I'm in some rinky dink hospital in Florida. Where are you?" I tried to stall so I could think, I needed to figure out who this fat Irishman was.
"Look Colt- stop playing games. We both know you've got something of mine. And I want it back. Don't make me call the Leprechaun. You better be here with it in a few days. Be here by Tuesday. I hope you know I'm being generous." With that he hung up. I was more confused than ever and gratefully sank back into my wheelchair. Karen looked shocked... maybe she had heard some of the conversation... I was too tired to care.
