Cinematic Immunity

A fun and deadly chase through the seedy back alleys of Hollywood.
The Upgrades landed on their asses in my crawl space as the weed whackers started slapping at their legs and the screaming of rabid raccoons filled the crawl space. The Upgrades freaked out, trying to get away from the imaginary raccoons and get to me at the same time.
I pulled the cable that turned the rest of the floor into the equivalent of a thin sheet of ice on a lake, collapsing all the floorboards as soon as anyone put any weight on them.
No-Cleft stood up and found me with the red laser sight of his handgun.
You’re a dead man, Samson!

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King Me

K did not want to be King anymore. Not without his mother. And not on his father’s terms. But Railroad wasn’t called Railroad for nothing. And no was not an answer he would accept from his only son, the son whose duty it was to take over the family media empire. K knew it would have helped to have a plan of his own, a direction, an ambition, anything. And he wished he did. A girlfriend would have been nice too, would have been better than his clumsy imaginary friend Jerry Lewis. But when nothing much seems worth doing, it’s hard to have a future worth having. Until one morning, Railroad kicks K out of the house and the family, then somehow manages to frame his son for his assassination. Never mind that the real assassins are as bumbling as the FBI agents trying to catch K.

From that moment forward, K’s future is no longer a matter of whether K wants to be King, it’s a matter of whether he can slip out of the noose tightening around his neck.

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