Big doin's...

...Yes, "doin's" is a word! First off, there's a Taco Bell in Charlestown now! Yeah! It's kind of pathetic how exciting that is...
Secondly, my sister and I are planning a bit of a Independence Day celebration thingy. We were going to actually have it on the 4th (yeah, we're crazy like that) but it turns out that our mom's boyfriend wants to have a little cookout of his own (in his defense, he does traditionally have one), so instead of opening the door for blatant combatism (is that a word?) Christine and I are going to be the bigger men (teehee) and have our thingy on the 2nd. I have to admit, it is gratifying that I'm getting a laugh every single time I've invited somebody to our "Fourth of July party on the second..."! I'm not saying that we're in any kind of competition with Gary or anything...but our party's gonna be way better! We're going to have cupcakes! Quite possibly in a flag formation.
Speaking of getting laughs, Christine and I have also come up with the improv skit idea for our grandmother's birthday (July 8th). Tell ya what, I've never felt this much pressure over it (not that I'm losing sleep). After doing so bad on the last one I feel that we had better make this one mighty good! I must redeem myself! ;)

And now on to Critiquer's Corner. Let me know what you think about this little piece. All you need to know is that Sam is a spy who has been captured along with his partner Jared in Saudi Arabia. Those with finer sensibilities may not want to read this. Blood does come into the picture.

~ Sam paled visibly as his tormentor; Mohamed el Akbar, or Warren as Sam liked to think of him, strode in. Sam could feel his pulse quicken, throbbing in his neck.
Sweat ran down his back, mixing with blood, and seeping into the many lacerations, causing them to sting and burn worse then ever. He felt lightheaded and nauseous. As a gentle reminder that he was still alive, every little while his legs would go into vicious cramps.
Akbar circled around behind the chair and began to fasten Sam’s elbows together with a thin length of nylon rope.
“Now Mr. Evens, perhaps this evening you will decide to help us out? What do you think?”
Sam gritted his teeth and tried to clear the dense fog that was choking his logical cognition. “I have nothing to tell you. You have the wrong person. I know nothing!”
Akbar calmly and carefully finished tying off Sam’s elbows and then attached the rope to a pulley hanging from the ceiling.
“Come now, I think we both know better.” He pulled the rope taut and Sam gasped as the pressure on his shoulders moved and pulled at his broken ribs.
“Why were you in Coustani? What did you find there?”
At the blatant lack of an answer Akbar pulled the rope tighter putting most of Sam’s weight on his upper arms and contorted shoulder sockets. Sam thought for an instant that they just might rip off all together, and what was more, that that could only be an improvement. He writhed, as if that would help, trying to convince himself that this was just another thing to fuel his anger. Let your rage take over and it doesn’t hurt so bad. At least, that’s what Jared always said.
“Why was your friend always in the consulate?” Akbar demanded.
“I don’t know!” Sam screamed.
“Liar!” His captor roared back.
Sam’s head slumped on his chest. Akbar let the rope loosen again and strolled around the chair, slowly, deliberately. Then a very unexpected thing happened. Sam began to laugh, quietly, weakly, but definitely derisively. He raised his head to meet Akbar’s eye with a hard glare.“So I’m a liar am I? You’re torturing me for information that you’re not even sure I have and you’re accusing me of being the evil person?” He laughed again, and glanced around the room, returning his gaze to Akbar. “Am I the only one that finds that ironic?”, he gasped, wincing every time he took a breath. ~

So whatcha think? If you liked it, then I take credit for writing it. If you didn't like it, then I stole it from a Star Trek fan fiction site (only the names were changed to protect the innocent).