Brigit's Flame week one, and my apologies in advance...

[riotheclown]

 

It could not have happened to a nicer guy.

He’d gone to bed like any other night and woke up dressed from head to toe in black, wearing a ski mask and looking down the barrel of a semi automatic.

“Say it!” a similarly dress man was yelling at him from behind the gun.

“What? Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about? How did I get here?” John realized he did not know where “here” was. He peered around as best he could from the confines of the ski mask he seemed to be wearing, keeping in mind that any sudden movements were probably a bad idea.

“Leave him alone for Christ’s Sake Jay!” another voice was telling his assaulter. Suddenly Jay pulled back and started laughing. 

John could now see that he was in a garage, easily a four car garage, nicely organized with a work bench, storage and large black van with tinted windows. This must be a “hide out”. He must be in a “gang”. This “Jay” was having at him the way gang members do, to keep him on his toes. Perhaps this was a dream or a sort of a fugue state and he would wake up soon.

Jay was standing oddly with a hand on one hip, swinging the weapon around like it was feather duster. “Why do you have to be such an ass? Why can’t you just SAY IT? Gawd I am so sick of you!”

Not knowing what he was supposed to say John told him that “I’m not feeling quite myself is all…”

“Oh you’re feeling yourself. That’s the problem!”

The other one said, “Enough! Get in the van, it’s time.”

Assuming that he was dreaming a scene from crime movie and that he would wake up soon, he did as he was told. On the floor of the van were canvas bags, several weapons, canisters of tear gas. He squatted in the back and was surprised by how comfortable he felt with all of this, he also realized he had lost 40 lbs and limbered up A LOT. He steadied himself with one hand as the van sped to its destination.

“I guess I’ve been working out.”, he said to himself out loud.

“You’re trying to tell me I’m fat? So come right out and say it!”

“No, you look good, I mean, black is slimming.” Black is slimming? John didn’t know what he was saying or what he was doing. He did get the impression it was going to be dangerous. He also worried that some of the danger would be to avoid getting shot in the back by Jay. He wondered what he could have done to piss him off so much.

The van stopped in front an office tower in what looked like downtown Toronto. The three of them marched right in to the building passed a camera crew that was interviewing some CEO for the morning news. There seemed to be was a movie being filmed. They got on the elevator and road up to the 52nd floor. Jay grabbed the receptionist and held a gun to her head. The driver nodded to John, “third on the left” meaning the third office, John wandered to the office, holding his gun the way he saw it done on television. No one was hurt, that was good. 

To his surprise he was greeted with enthusiasm by the employee, “Wow, you look scary! Take it, make sure you take them all and shoot the rest.” He was pointing at the laptop on his desk. 

John put it into his canvas bag. 

“Hit me with the butt of your gun to make it look good!”

John did as he was told.

When he came out into the hallway he could see they had pulled open a canister of tear gas. People were ducked, coughing and rushing to the elevators under the direction of Jay who still held on to the receptionist who now wore a gas mask. When they were away he pulled the mask off her and shoved her through the door to the stairs. “Go down two flights, count to 100 then head the rest of the way down. Do it or I will come to your house and kill your dog.”

Jay yelled at him, lifting his mask briefly, “BAG!” Sure enough there was a mask in the canvas bag. He continued smashing and stashing computers. The other guy was in the boss’s office opening a control panel and fiddling with switches. John stood there, bag in hand, amazed at how organized it all was.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? OPEN THE SAFE!”

“I DON’T KNOW THE COMBINATION!”

“JASMINE FOREVER.”

“?”

“KEYPAD BEHIND THE PAINTING!”  He shook his head. Obviously John was supposed to know all of this.

Sure enough there was an alphabetical key pad behind the painting. He typed j – a – s – m – i – n – e – f – o – r – e – v – e – r and the safe on the wall popped open.

There were bundles of bills, but not enough to warrant all this trouble, what he assumed they were after was the collection of small plastic disks, like the ones they put in cell phones and digital cameras. He scooped them all up and was about to put them in the bag when the other guy pushed him aside, scooped them up and into a metal canister and then pour some liquid on them that he then ignited.

John was glad he had on his gas mask.

“How are we going to get out of the building?”

“We’re leaving with everyone else.”

This corporate office was equipped with a walk-in closet. Three nicely pressed suits were hanging there. They stripped and put on the made to measure suits, shoes and everything and threw their clothes in the burning bin.

They slung the bags over their shoulders and joined the coughing employees fleeing in the stairwell. They looked like three corporate sloggers off to the gym caught in the commotion.

“We work there? They are going to figure it out.”

“They are not. They are US.” Jay blew him a kiss and winked. “Say it.”

“Say what?!!”

Jay pushed him against the wall and kissed him hard on the mouth.  “The password…” Jay whispered. “My name, your name for me, say it…”

John suddenly felt dizzy. 

“Jay… J…Jasmine F – forever…?!”

Not only had he woken up a criminal. He had woken up gay.

 



 

Recently heard the preposterous idea that a trauma could lead a person to suddenly wake up gay after being a staunch Christian gay basher, still the idea did lend itself to some comic construction...  Nevertheless, I KNOW this story is a bad idea.