Post by Magicman on Feb 16, 2005 0:05:11 GMT -5
I have never written in first person before. I need sleep. My grammar regarding paragraphs and dialogue sucks. Proofread for me plz kthx 
Sushi Place
God, what crappy music. A Japanese place should have Japanese music, yes? That orchestral classical crap isn't my style; some Pillows or L'arc~en~Ciel would do me fine.
Ed was sitting next to me, staring at his sushi. There must have been something wrong with him; the stuff was fucking awesome.
"Dude," he commented. It took me a bit to realize he was talking to me.
"Yar?" I replied. I'm pretty proud of that response. It makes me sound like a pirate. Yar.
"This sushi sucks." If emoticons could convey into real life, I was SO doing that one big-eyed Japanese-style one. With the capital Os and the underscore. Yeah. "Why did I offer to take you here?" I pondered that one. Through a mouthful, I replied:
"Because you're a nice guy, Ed." Okay, so I was talking out my ass. That doesn't matter much, does it? I was eating some damn good sushi. That reminds me; the chef was one badass dude.
The chef, Faisal Ookawa, was this crazy half-Bangladeshi half-Japanese man. I mean, I bet he could take on Bruce Lee or even Uzumaki Naruto in a fight. Man, Faisal versus Naruto... that'd be a trip. I can see it now, Faisal jumps through Naruto's skylight wearing all black and toting an Uzi... he swings it in a 180 degree arc and shouts "Motherchud tomare khun kore felbo!" And Naruto'd be all like "Nani?" and they'd start Matrixing out like the fate of the world hangs in the balance! Shit, that'd be a badass doujinshi. But I digress.
"Ed, what's wrong with the sushi?" I mean, it had everything. Rice, nori, fish, wasabi.
"It's the fish," he said. I had to admit, he looked a little green. Maybe he was allergic. I asked him:
"What, are you allergic?"
"No."
"What, then?"
"Dude, look at it." I took a long, hard look. Man, I about vivisected that motherfucker. There was nothing wrong with it. Ed stood up.
"I need a smoke." He walked out. Bastard, I bet he was just leaving so I'd have to pay. I leaned in and called the attentions of Faisal, wanting to drown my newfound sorrows - hey, twenty bucks is a lot for sushi for two - and it occured to me I should ask what sort of fish it was. So I did.
"Faisal, what sort of fish is this?"
"Fish?" Goddamn that Japanese accent. It sounds so weird. I bet he'd be a cool singer in a rock band. "Faisal and the Givers of Fellatio." They could rock the microphone.
"Yeah, fish. In the sushi."
"Ohh, in the sushi."
"Yes."
"The fish, in the sushi." Motherfucker, he was stalling.
"Yes."
"You read the menu thoroughly, yes?"
I adopted my most eloquent - and intimidating - air. It's like Al Capone and Clint Eastwood's love child.
"Faisal, I tire of these games. What is in this sushi?"
Worked like a charm. I got my answer:
"Rice, seaweed, cow brain, the usual stuff."
"What sort of fish is that?"
"Very popular back in Bangladesh."
I decided to go join Ed for that smoke.
Sushi Place
God, what crappy music. A Japanese place should have Japanese music, yes? That orchestral classical crap isn't my style; some Pillows or L'arc~en~Ciel would do me fine.
Ed was sitting next to me, staring at his sushi. There must have been something wrong with him; the stuff was fucking awesome.
"Dude," he commented. It took me a bit to realize he was talking to me.
"Yar?" I replied. I'm pretty proud of that response. It makes me sound like a pirate. Yar.
"This sushi sucks." If emoticons could convey into real life, I was SO doing that one big-eyed Japanese-style one. With the capital Os and the underscore. Yeah. "Why did I offer to take you here?" I pondered that one. Through a mouthful, I replied:
"Because you're a nice guy, Ed." Okay, so I was talking out my ass. That doesn't matter much, does it? I was eating some damn good sushi. That reminds me; the chef was one badass dude.
The chef, Faisal Ookawa, was this crazy half-Bangladeshi half-Japanese man. I mean, I bet he could take on Bruce Lee or even Uzumaki Naruto in a fight. Man, Faisal versus Naruto... that'd be a trip. I can see it now, Faisal jumps through Naruto's skylight wearing all black and toting an Uzi... he swings it in a 180 degree arc and shouts "Motherchud tomare khun kore felbo!" And Naruto'd be all like "Nani?" and they'd start Matrixing out like the fate of the world hangs in the balance! Shit, that'd be a badass doujinshi. But I digress.
"Ed, what's wrong with the sushi?" I mean, it had everything. Rice, nori, fish, wasabi.
"It's the fish," he said. I had to admit, he looked a little green. Maybe he was allergic. I asked him:
"What, are you allergic?"
"No."
"What, then?"
"Dude, look at it." I took a long, hard look. Man, I about vivisected that motherfucker. There was nothing wrong with it. Ed stood up.
"I need a smoke." He walked out. Bastard, I bet he was just leaving so I'd have to pay. I leaned in and called the attentions of Faisal, wanting to drown my newfound sorrows - hey, twenty bucks is a lot for sushi for two - and it occured to me I should ask what sort of fish it was. So I did.
"Faisal, what sort of fish is this?"
"Fish?" Goddamn that Japanese accent. It sounds so weird. I bet he'd be a cool singer in a rock band. "Faisal and the Givers of Fellatio." They could rock the microphone.
"Yeah, fish. In the sushi."
"Ohh, in the sushi."
"Yes."
"The fish, in the sushi." Motherfucker, he was stalling.
"Yes."
"You read the menu thoroughly, yes?"
I adopted my most eloquent - and intimidating - air. It's like Al Capone and Clint Eastwood's love child.
"Faisal, I tire of these games. What is in this sushi?"
Worked like a charm. I got my answer:
"Rice, seaweed, cow brain, the usual stuff."
"What sort of fish is that?"
"Very popular back in Bangladesh."
I decided to go join Ed for that smoke.
VS
Brutus VS Belome: Brawl in the Bayou!