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Seth rotated the key more violently, the vehicle coughed with exhaustion... There's no point, his battery was dead. He slowly felt his head absent-mindedly fall between his hands and knees; he knew he was fucked now.
The car park stank of mystery, shadows engulfing the tarmac; he could barely make out the almighty canvas poster smothering the now deserted cinema, the only decipherable text was the heading; No Repeat Offences , whatever that meant.
<font color="#f7f7f7"><font size="1">[ March 20, 2003 04:03 AM: Message edited by: Martin Scripts ]</font></font>
<font color="#f7f7f7"><font size="1">[ March 22, 2003 06:08 AM: Message edited by: Martin Scripts ]</font></font>
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 07, 2003 01:05 AM: Message edited by: Martin Scripts ]</font>
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(wtf, Seth?)
Daniel waited until the last line of credits rolled off the top of the screen, and the music faded out. He scooped the popcorn scraps from the bottom of the carton and made his way out into the cinema foyer.
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[This thread officially tagged as 'serious'.]
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ March 14, 2003 05:24 AM: Message edited by: Martin Scripts ]</font>
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Chris was out late, or early, depending on how you wanted to look at it. He'd been at the drags most of the evening, and had beaten Clarke's skyline every time Clarke asked for a rematch.
He drove slowly past the deserted car park. well, almost deserted. some pathetic soul was trying to start his car, and the battery was obviously dead. he pulled into the park, and offered his assistance.
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Seth had turned ninety degress anti-clockwise in his seat, with his legs drooping out the door on the tarmac, he felt depression was hitting on him. His hand grouped the cigerette packet open, only to find it desserted.
Just before his last thought of hope had left his mind, he heard the unfamiliar groan of a car that auctually went, he raised his head to a strange, almost freakish, man offering assistance.
"Hey.. hello.. umm, my umm.. My names Seth, and umm.. I think my ummm.. My batterys dead." Seth wasnt much of a talker, and it was ovious the man knew the sate his car was in, but he continued nevertheless "Reckon I could jump my car, I mean jump start my car with your battery? I think I've got the leads in my boot.."
Seth elevated himself, and scrouged past the man to the boot of his rustic '88 three door familia hatch before he recived a response.
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Gerald was never one to take chances. He had stayed in the movie until the very end, watching the thousands of rows of credits go past, just a little too fast for him to catch them all. He would look for who played that one unimportant character that he seemed to recognise, and for all the silly jobs that people seemed to get while working on movies. The descriptions of many baffled him.
He was sure there were never that many credits after the movies on TV. He would think the same about videos, but he realised that he had never watched the credits on videos. He wasn't sure if anyone had.
He stayed in the cinema even after the lights had turned on, and everyone had left, on the off chance that everyone was wrong, that he would be the only one to see the secret trailer to whatever big movie might be coming up. If he was right, it woudl be worth it.
Eventually they would come in, be surprised by someone still there, and kick him out just before the people that worked there left themselves.
Thus, Gerald found himself a bit let down, and wandering into the parking lot, and seeing the guy in the car that needed a bit of a hand. Gerald had no mechanical know-how whatsoever. However, he needed a lift home.
"Hey! Can I give you some help there?"
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As I dunked the mop into the bucket full of dirty water, I noticed that someone was having car trouble in the parking lot. A smile formed upon my face, some fool had once again left their lights on whilst inside the movie theatre. Well, shit happens.
The white tiled floor was now clean. The popcorn, spilt drinks and muddy footprints had been removed and now it was time for me to leave.
I stood with my jacket now on inside the carpark, my hand reached into the front of my pocket and pulled forth a pre-rolled cigarette. Placing it upon my lips, I lit the tip and took a long drag.
My eyes again noticed the person with car trouble. I should offer a hand but today had been a long one and all that was on my thoughts was getting home.
<font color="#f7f7f7"><font size="1">[ August 11, 2003 11:49 PM: Message edited by: Bad Turkey ]</font></font>
<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ August 11, 2003 11:51 PM: Message edited by: Bad Turkey ]</font>
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This guy was obviously pretty flustered. Chris acted a bit more composed.
"Yeah, sure, I'll help out. I don't have any leads though. You said you had some in your boot?"
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Well, it looked like the guy with car trouble would have enough help on that front, and Gerald trying to do anything to help would inevitably lead to some very bad consequences. However, he knew that no buses were running at this time, and he didn't have the money for a taxi.
He didn't want to walk home, that was for sure, but he wasn't sure what to do.
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Upon arrival Seth weaved his key into the hole once resembling a lock on his skeleton of a veachile. The key slid in with amazing ease and in no time Seth was now peering down at the contents of his boot.
The crowded landscape of his cars behind was littered with trash a reaked of the bitter stench of vodka. After inspecting the contents carefully Seth had located his jumper leads, a five dollar note and a stray lone cigarette. Seth attempted to conceal his newly aquired money, light his cigerette, and pick up the jumper leads all in the same instance, while only acomplishing to drop all three on the ground below him.
"At least my day couldn't get any worse." Seth thought to himslef.
