Young Writers Society

This is a story that I decided to write inspired by me and a friend. We were talking about what we would name our child, when and if we had one. I said I Really didn't know but he had a rather humorous answer. "I'd name my kid Max Killer! That name is so awesome! He'd be the coolest kid ever!". I replied back, "He's going to be beaten up a lot at school.". He yelled in fury, "NO HE WOULDN'T! He'd know how to beat people up and stuff, JUST because his name is 'Max Killer'!".

Chapter I

The name is Killer, Max Killer. I was down at the bar scoping out my target. I was hired by an unnamed employer. He wanted men dead. Lots of them. It was my job to fulfill his wishes. I decided to get some information at this bar. This was my first mission, and I was an idiot. I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy men with many tattoos were. I sat myself down. Not a good move.

"Hey! What're you doing!"

I panicked, I felt a strong urge to run home, just as I did when those bullies beat me up in that schoolyard. I didn't, I couldn't. I froze, "I just... Wanted... To... Um." I felt warmth running down my legs. "I just wanted to..." I paused, guessing how long I could stay without any pain being inflicted on me. "SELL YOU SOME TABLES AND STOOLS!!!" I blurted as fast as I could. Less than a millisecond later, I bolted. I was out of the pub.

I got to my apartment and cried. Remembering all of the days that my dad said I was awesome, and that I could win any battle, win anything. The complete opposite happened. The first "beef" I had with someone was in the second grade. His name was Jacob. That was a stupid name. And, I did start the fight after all. I said his name was girly, especially compared to mine.

I attempted to leap upon his back and pummel his face. I planned it out in my head. I was then to do a back flip and kick him before he fell backwards. Then I was going to jump on his back while he was on the floor (Presumably he would be unconscious by then) and do a victory dance with cleats on. All I manged to do was get flung back, and the wood chips dug into my body and went in my underwear. I groaned and got up.

I also imagined I would say something witty every battle I partook in. So, in pain, I mumbled "That's how you want to play it, eh?" Not very witty, I know. But I was 7. So I attempted to retry that plan. He punched me in the face as soon as I took a step closer to him. My nose bled profusely. He got off with a warning from the teacher. He said I fell and he tried to help me but I lashed out and he was just "restraining me".

God I hated that kid. But, here I am. A weenie and crying at age 25. I had to get back to the job, so I changed my pants and underwear to non wet clothes. I also took a shower. I turned on some Kate Bush and sat all depressed in my beige rocking chair. I ended up falling asleep. I woke up and it just so happened I was gagged and restrained.

My muffled bursts of noise eventually caught the attention of one of the people in my home. They told me to shut up. The, leader of the operation came in. He wasn't special or anything like in the movies. He didn't look particularly mean either. He had a rather large nose and a pale skinny face. He had interesting glasses that made him look like a nerd. I had to hold back my laughter, remember how all of that usually turns out.

He stuttered to his "henchman" to un-gag me. They pulled the cloth out. I threw up a little in my mouth, it was a dirty sock. One of the men put it back on his foot. He was a fat man, and his shirt was very sweaty. I started to throw up more after I wondered how much sweat was on that sock. But, before anything came up, My bodily functions were interrupted by a nice smack to the face. My eyes teared up and I tried my best to hold it back.

"What the..." The leader said with disgust. "Is this even a man? He cries all the time. The men at the bar said they smelled a distinctive urine smell when they were talking to you..." He dropped the disgust in his voice and calmly said to his men, "Yeah, we got the right man".


CHAPTER II

I burst into a fit of anger and yelled at him. "What did I do! Why are my wrists and arms tied up! Why are you making fun of me! Who are you! What is the matter with you! And, Why is that one so fat!". I panted and was out of breath. The fat henchman yelled at me, citing that his bones were just big and there was nothing wrong with him. I whimpered and between sobs, managed to get "Stop yelling at me!" out.

The leader, or boss, whatever, finally spoke. "Nothing much, we're just supposed to mess with you because those men at the bar you... Harassed. Aren't too happy. So, yeah." I was mad now, "That's it!? That is so stupid!" I burst into anger now. "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!" My fears left me and I broke the thin ropes surrounding my ankles and wrists.

They all stepped back, and I roared, "I will kill you all!" I got up and whipped the folding chair I was in at the fat one. He fell to the floor. I laughed and smiled deeply at my newfound strength. I guess anger is what made me less of a wimp. I then picked the leader up, and used him as a bat. I knocked all the other people out threw him through my window. He fell 20 or so stories. I lived high up in my apartment. I never got near those windows, always so scared. Acrophobia to the max.

I picked the rest of the men up and stole their guns. Threw them out the window too. I relaxed and fell asleep again. I woke to the sound of birds chirping, and the cool morning air caressing my face. My eyes were still closed and I smiled. Then, I realized that I never felt a breeze before in my apartment. I was WAY too scared to open up something at this height. I looked around and saw a gaping hole in my window.

I Freaked out and sobbed uncontrollably. At least for a few minutes, and when I gained enough courage to slowly inch myself towards that wall which was nothing but three panes of glass side by side, the center one being broken. I saw, on the ground, 5 Men. Dead. Bloody pools surrounding them and chunks of flesh, bone and such surrounding the splatter area.

Not to mention the police, lots of police. Yellow tape, the whole complex was surrounded. I wept and wept. And wept. I killed 5 men. 5. 5. 5. Repeating in my mind over and over. I My whole floor was wet after more than hour of tears falling off of my face. I then heard a knock at my door. Instinct made me back up trying to find a corner to hide in and ignore the raps. I ended up backing up into the open air. My arms quickly jerked forward and kept myself from falling, but not before being cut by the glass.

The pain made me barely able to hold on and I tried to use my legs and build momentum with my body like some kind of inch worm and fall back in the house. My feet slipped on the tear-wet floor and I fell back. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. 20 story's is 200 feet, 200 feet is a long distance. 60 miles an hour is a mile a minute, and if I used division, this fall would be 20 seconds if I maintained a speed of 60 Miles per hour. Probably not, my math never was good.

CHAPTER III

I was roused by a human voice. Seemingly human. But judging from the recent chain of events, I wouldn't doubt it if it were otherwise. I tried to move, but was constricted. By a full body cast. My eyes were covered and my mouth and nose were the only parts of me left uncovered. The voice said. "Max. Max. Are you there. i groaned and tried to say "yes". The person yelled. "He's awake! 1 year of being in a coma! HE IS AWAKE!". I wondered why after a year they hadn't taken the cast off. Things heal faster than that, I thought.

The doctor said he had some bad news. They found 5 dead bodies near where I fell and they also had proof I killed them. As soon as I was out of the cast, he said, I would be put into police custody. I wanted to weep. But, I didn't because I thought of how awesome I was. Dude I thought, I am so awesome. I just killed 5 bad guys, fell 200 feet and survived, and now I think I am less of a girl. I am so awesome. AKL would be happy, That was his dad.

2 months passed and he was out of his cast and out of rehab. His muscles worked again, and he worked out more than he should have, claiming to still not have function of his muscles in order to get strong and big. eventually they kicked him out, but he was AWESOME now. He went back to the same bar where the men were that started this whole ordeal.

They saw him and cackled, uproarious laughter. "O' GOD! It's the boy-o who tried to intimidate us! 'E was in the news! I 'eard about that! He fell and broke every bone in 'is-" He gurgled and made wet noises in his throat. His friends quit laughing. They looked and saw a fountain of blood gushing out of his throat.

"What'd you do to him!" One said. "That was the jugular. I just cut it. The same demise will be yours if you don't, one, give me the information I need, and two, scram afterwards." I yelled. The whole bar was looking. I looked around and saw a man on a pay-phone. He kept staring back at me. I got a cell phone cal after he hung up. He also left.

"Hello?", I answered. "Yes, Max, the job is over, we no longer need the men dead. Go home, find some other job to cry about you wuss." He demanded. "What?" I asked angrily and inquisitively. "Go home" The phone clicked. I put the phone away and demanded answers from the men. They told me obviously bogus information. I let them go. I had other business to take care of.

CHAPTER IV

I went to the office of my unnamed employer and told him that nobody calls me names, or makes fun of me anymore. He laughed at me and told me that I was nothing but a fool. He only hired me to have me dead, killed at the place of the gang I was supposed to kill. I took a pen from his cup and he yelled at me. "What do you think you're doing!" I took the pen and stabbed him in the leg. Don't make fun of me.

"FINE FINE! Just stop!" He exclaimed. I told him to give me a job and his wallet. He surrendered the wallet and said he was going to find me a job.

END OF PART I

Now, I want feedback. I will make "PART II" if anyone actually likes this. Please, don't go easy on it or anything. The whole truth please.

Hey Henry. All right, so here goes:


Chapter I

The name is Killer, Max Killer. I was down at the bar scoping out my target. I was hired by an unnamed employer. He wanted men dead. Lots of them. It was my job to fulfill his wishes. I decided to get some information at this bar. This was my first mission, and I was an idiot. I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy men with many tattoos were. I sat myself down. Not a good move.

This first paragraph is very choppy, you say "I" quite a bit and also the sentences are so short that they don't seem to have meaning in them. I know that you probably have them short to show the narrator's dialogue, but it's just too choppy, try to make it flow more. Try reading it aloud, that always helps. You also need to explain the job more and his employer.

Also, describe things more, what does this bar look like? Is it dark and musty with too many signs and neon lights? Is the cigarette smoke lingering in the air, making Max cough? What are the men with tattoos doing to make them rowdy? Are they getting into fist fights over a card game? Explain these things, paint a picture for the reader of the bar.

"Hey! What're you doing!"

This quote doesn't seem to have as much emotion in it as I think you want it to have. Try something like "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

I panicked, I felt a strong urge to run home, just as I did when those bullies beat me up in that schoolyard.

This is a very strange sentence, Max has a huge reaction to the guy's question and he reacts too fast. Also, why would he go over to the rowdy/dangerous guys in the first place if he would freak out like this? Make it more realistic. Have the men insult him and make fun of him (but give them a reason to).

I didn't, I couldn't. I froze, "I just... Wanted... To... Um."

Again, I don't think anyone would freak out like that over a question like the one he was asked.

I felt warmth running down my legs.

This sentence doesn't make any sense, what kind of warmth? Was it blood running through his legs? Explain.

"I just wanted to..." I paused, guessing how long I could stay without any pain being inflicted on me.

Why would they inflict pain on him? Were they glaring at him as if they would? Show the emotions of the others.

I got to my apartment and cried.

This is really odd, wasn't Max hired to kill people?? Why would he be crying?? I don't think that a weak guy would be hired to kill people. Show Max's character!! Is he weak, strong, does he have a bad temper? Show us what he's like, why he's like that, and what he thinks about himself.

Remembering all of the days that my dad said I was awesome, and that I could win any battle, win anything. The complete opposite happened.

Please, please, please show his character better! I'm really confused!! Also, these sentences are really weak, try something like "I thought back to all of the days my dad would tell me that I was awesome. He said I could win any battle. But, that wasn't true at all."

His name was Jacob. That was a stupid name.

I don't think that most people will agree with you, I think that Jacob is a good name. Maybe state your opinion to make this part better, such as: "His name was Jacob, I thought it was a stupid name. It was so girly compared to mine." See how I incorporated the last sentence of the paragraph with this sentence? It flows much better.

And, I did start the fight after all.

This part seems out of place, almost as if he's answering an unasked question. Try putting it at the end of the paragraph and explain why he'd confess to him starting the fight - did Jacob act to him making fun of his name?

I attempted to leap upon his back and pummel his face. I planned it out in my head. I was then to do a back flip and kick him before he fell backwards. Then I was going to jump on his back while he was on the floor (Presumably he would be unconscious by then) and do a victory dance with cleats on.

Why would he attack Jacob if he didn't do anything to Max? There's no motive to attack him. If Max attacks him without being attacked then explian why. Was he thinking that he had to beat him up because he hated his name so much? Explain to the reader.

All I manged to do was get flung back, and the wood chips dug into my body and went in my underwear. I groaned and got up.

Setting, setting, setting. Woodchips appeared out of nowhere. A brief sentence can easily tell the reader where he is: "We were at the schoolyard and his name was Jacob. I thought it was a stupid name."


Okay, so why would Max beat up people like this? When he's first introduced he seems like a weak guy, but now he's a bully?? Explain your character and his motives! Was he tough but turned weak? Why was he tough, why'd he turn weak? Explain.

I also imagined I would say something witty every battle I partook in.

Wouldn't Max stop getting into fights after his first one with Jacob? If not explain why. Did he start the fights afterward or did Jacob?

I woke up and it just so happened I was gagged and restrained.

My muffled bursts of noise eventually caught the attention of one of the people in my home.

The first sentence seems like he's used to being gagged and restrained because he says "it just so happened" but then, why would he make noise of protest afterward? Somebody who was used to it wouldn't talk at all. Try to clear that up.

The, leader of the operation came in. He wasn't special or anything like in the movies.

How would he be special like the movies? Explain.

He had interesting glasses that made him look like a nerd. I had to hold back my laughter, remember how all of that usually turns out.

Max Killer seems like more of a nerd than this guy. Why would he laugh at his glasses?

He stuttered to his "henchman" to un-gag me.

Do you meant "muttered"? To stutter means to not be able to say something, like "I- I- it- well- I-"

They pulled the cloth out of my mouth.

"What the..." The leader said with disgust. "Is this even a man? He cries all the time. The men at the bar said they smelled a distinctive urine smell when they were talking to you..." He dropped the disgust in his voice and calmly said to his men, "Yeah, we got the right man".

Why would he question if he had the right man and firmly say that he did? Maybe try having a henchman tell him they had the right man.


Chapter II

I burst into a fit of anger and yelled at him. "What did I do! Why are my wrists and arms tied up! Why are you making fun of me! Who are you! What is the matter with you! And, Why is that one so fat!".

You don't show what's going through his mind right now, if you're going to have the story in first person point of view, then you're going to have to tell the reader what he's thinking. Also, he only asks questions, but not once is there a question mark. That is very unprofeesional, change all of the exclamation points to question marks.

I panted and was out of breath. The fat henchman yelled at me, citing that his bones were just big and there was nothing wrong with him. I whimpered and between sobs, managed to get "Stop yelling at me!" out.

Why would he insult others if he's so wimpy himself? It's very unrealistic.

The leader, or boss, whatever, finally spoke. "Nothing much, we're just supposed to mess with you because those men at the bar you... Harassed. Aren't too happy. So, yeah."

Harassed? He sat down at their table. How is that harassment?

They all stepped back, and I roared, "I will kill you all!" I got up and whipped the folding chair I was in at the fat one. He fell to the floor. I laughed and smiled deeply at my newfound strength. I guess anger is what made me less of a wimp. I then picked the leader up, and used him as a bat. I knocked all the other people out threw him through my window. He fell 20 or so stories. I lived high up in my apartment. I never got near those windows, always so scared. Acrophobia to the max.

There are too many treansitions between weak and strong and they're all too fast!! Slow things down, have him suffer with weakness for awhile and then after a life changing event, he'll find his inner strength.

I picked the rest of the men up and stole their guns. Threw them out the window too. I relaxed and fell asleep again.

No thoughts ran through his mind in that scene. What is he thinking?? Does he regret killing those men, feel they deserved it? What?? Also, after such an intense thing to do, why would he fall asleep?? That is extremely unrealistic!

My whole floor was wet after more than hour of tears falling off of my face. I then heard a knock at my door.

When people cry, there isn't that much wetness as to cover a whole floor. Also, where were the police during that hour of crying, I would've thought that within minutes they would've came to his apartment because of the broken glass.



CHAPTER III

I was roused by a human voice. Seemingly human. But judging from the recent chain of events, I wouldn't doubt it if it were otherwise.

Nothing other-worldly had happened, so why would he think it was not a human voice?

I tried to move, but was constricted. By a full body cast. My eyes were covered and my mouth and nose were the only parts of me left uncovered. The voice said. "Max. Max. Are you there. i groaned and tried to say "yes". The person yelled. "He's awake! 1 year of being in a coma! HE IS AWAKE!". I wondered why after a year they hadn't taken the cast off. Things heal faster than that, I thought.

An entire year of being in a coma? Very unrealistic. Also, he has no reaction to that kind of news. And after a year of being in a coma, I don't think that a doctor would just happen to be tending to him while he woke up. Please, please fix this.

I am so awesome. AKL would be happy, That was his dad.

You switch from first to third person here. That's a big no-no. Try something like: "I am so awesome. My dad, AKL, would be happy."

2 months passed and he was out of his cast and out of rehab. His muscles worked again, and he worked out more than he should have, claiming to still not have function of his muscles in order to get strong and big. eventually they kicked him out, but he was AWESOME now. He went back to the same bar where the men were that started this whole ordeal.

You just described to months in a paragraph. Please describe emotions, thoughts, and other things in these two months, as they seem very important.

They saw him and cackled, uproarious laughter.

It's strange that they would just happen to be at the bar when he came. Maybe have him wait a little while for them to come.

"O' GOD! It's the boy-o who tried to intimidate us! 'E was in the news! I 'eard about that! He fell and broke every bone in 'is-"

It's been an entire year since they met, would they really remember eachother? Also, wouldn't Max look a lot different after breaking every bone in his body? I don't think he'd look the same.

"Hello?", I answered. "Yes, Max, the job is over, we no longer need the men dead. Go home, find some other job to cry about you wuss." He demanded. "What?" I asked angrily and inquisitively. "Go home" The phone clicked. I put the phone away and demanded answers from the men. They told me obviously bogus information. I let them go. I had other business to take care of.

You have to start new paragraphs when someone different is speaking. Also, if he jsut found out that his job was over, why would he still ask the men questions?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This story was interesting. You have something going here. Some suggestions though, would be to SLOW DOWN and describe/explain things more. Half of the time I'm really confused because there aren't any emotions or thoughts, and everything is rushed.

Don't let my crit discourage you if it was harsh, it's just that sometimes being harsh is the best way to improve your writing.

Also, do you read much? I think that if you read some really great books you could definitely improve your writing.

PM me with any questions. If you edit these chapters let me know and I'll be happy to read the revisions.

~Onceuponatim3xo

I do read a lot, but one thing you have to understand is, this isn't supposed to be super realistic. It's supposed to be a comedy that turned into a somewhat serious action/Adventure. All the things that you said weren't realistic, were intentionally made that way.

Nothing other-worldly had happened, so why would he think it was not a human voice?

After all the times you said it was unrealistic... You say this?

To clear the beginning things up, He is supposed to be weak and girly. The warmth running down his leg... was urine.

Oh I'm sorry, I thought that you were serious about this story and it wasn't supposed to be a comedy. That changes things a bit. But I'm still strong about my suggestions, Max needs to have some thoughts and his character does need to be developed more. Also, this story is very fast paced, you don't explain anything that's going on - which leaves the reader very confused and not wanting to read more. Half of the time you can explain things just by showing the reader Max's emotions and thoughts.

Also:

After all the times you said it was unrealistic... You say this?

There are different ways for something to be unrealistic - things that would never happen and things that shouldn't happen. I was talking about things that shouldn't happen, such as Max's reactions to things.

When I said

Nothing other-worldly had happened, so why would he think it was not a human voice?

I wasn't even talking about things being unrealistic, I just meant that nothing not of this world had happened - such as an alien invasion or robots taking over the world.

You're story was interesting, but I think that you can do a lot more with it, simply by explaining Max's thoughts, feelings, and describing his character. So, please, please take my advice.

~Onceuponatim3xo

Alright, thanks I will take the advice for future stories and a possible future draft. I guess knowing the genre really changes a lot!

I have to agree with OnCeUpOnAtIm3Xo... your story is too fast paced and you do need more character development.

But I did find this quite humorous. Especially when he peed his pants in the first chapter.

Also, I love the name Max Killer. It is pretty awesome!

Now for some corrections and suggestions:

chapter 1 wrote:The name is Killer, Max Killer.

Try replacing the comma with a period.

chapter 1 wrote:I was down at the bar scoping out my target. I was hired by an unnamed employer. He wanted men dead. Lots of them. It was my job to fulfill his wishes. I decided to get some information at this bar. This was my first mission, and I was an idiot. I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy men with many tattoos were. I sat myself down. Not a good move.

Waaaayyyyyy too fast. Why was he hired by an unnamed employer? Why did he take the job in the first place?

chapter 2 wrote:I burst into a fit of anger and yelled at him. "What did I do! Why are my wrists and arms tied up! Why are you making fun of me! Who are you! What is the matter with you! And, Why is that one so fat!". I panted and was out of breath. The fat henchman yelled at me, citing that his bones were just big and there was nothing wrong with him. I whimpered and between sobs, managed to get "Stop yelling at me!" out.

Haha. This kid is hilarious!! But isn't this a bit unnecessary? What does this paragraph have to do with anything?

chapter 2 wrote:They all stepped back, and I roared, "I will kill you all!" I got up and whipped the folding chair I was in at the fat one. He fell to the floor. I laughed and smiled deeply at my newfound strength. I guess anger is what made me less of a wimp. I then picked the leader up, and used him as a bat. I knocked all the other people out threw him through my window. He fell 20 or so stories. I lived high up in my apartment. I never got near those windows, always so scared. Acrophobia to the max.

Waaaayyyyy too fast again! That made my brain hurt!

The pain made me barely able to hold on and I tried to use my legs and build momentum with my body like some kind of inch worm and fall back in the house. My feet slipped on the tear-wet floor and I fell back. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. 20 story's is 200 feet, 200 feet is a long distance. 60 miles an hour is a mile a minute, and if I used division, this fall would be 20 seconds if I maintained a speed of 60 Miles per hour. Probably not, my math never was good.

Nice ending for a chapter.

I was roused by a human voice.

Roused? Me no likey this word.

"He's awake! 1 year of being in a coma! HE IS AWAKE!". I wondered why after a year they hadn't taken the cast off. Things heal faster than that, I thought.

Replace '1' with 'one'.
A Coma! Since when! What's going on here?

AKL would be happy, That was his dad.

Rephrase that.

2 months passed and he was out of his cast and out of rehab.

Spell out 2 and replace 'rehab' with 'rehabilitation'. Unless he was an alcoholic or drug addict...

I went to the office of my unnamed employer and told him that nobody calls me names, or makes fun of me anymore. He laughed at me and told me that I was nothing but a fool. He only hired me to have me dead, killed at the place of the gang I was supposed to kill. I took a pen from his cup and he yelled at me. "What do you think you're doing!" I took the pen and stabbed him in the leg. Don't make fun of me.

"FINE FINE! Just stop!" He exclaimed. I told him to give me a job and his wallet. He surrendered the wallet and said he was going to find me a job.

So the 25-year-old wuss finally grew up, huh?

Really nice. I'd like to see more!

I'm here by request!

Henry wrote:This is a story that I decided to write inspired by me and a friend. We were talking about what we would name our child, when and if we had one. I said I Really didn't know but he had a rather humorous answer. "I'd name my kid Max Killer! That name is so awesome! He'd be the coolest kid ever!". I replied back, "He's going to be beaten up a lot at school.". He yelled in fury, "NO HE WOULDN'T! He'd know how to beat people up and stuff, JUST because his name is 'Max Killer'!".

Chapter I

The name is Killer, Max Killer. I was down at the bar scoping out my target. I was hired by an unnamed employer. He wanted men dead. Lots of them. It was my job to fulfill his wishes. I decided to get some information at this bar. This was my first mission, and I was an idiot. I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy men with many tattoos were. I sat myself down. Not a good move.

"Hey! What're you doing!"

I panicked, I felt a strong urge to run home, just as I did when those bullies beat me up in that schoolyard. I didn't, I couldn't. I froze, "I just... wanted... to... um." I felt warmth running down my legs. "I just wanted to..." I paused, guessing how long I could stay without any pain being inflicted on me. "SELL YOU SOME TABLES AND STOOLS!!!" I blurted as fast as I could. Less than a millisecond later, I bolted. I was out of the pub.

I got to my apartment and cried. Remembering all of the days that my dad said I was awesome, and that I could win any battle, win anything. The complete opposite happened. The first "beef" I had with someone was in the second grade. His name was Jacob. That was a stupid name. And, I did start the fight after all. I said his name was girly, especially compared to mine.

I attempted to leap upon his back and pummel his face. I planned it out in my head. I was then to do a back flip and kick him before he fell backwards. Then I was going to jump on his back while he was on the floor (Presumably he would be unconscious by then) and do a victory dance with cleats on. All I manged to do was get flung back, and the wood chips dug into my body and went in my underwear. I groaned and got up.

I also imagined I would say something witty every battle I partook in. So, in pain, I mumbled "That's how you want to play it, eh?" Not very witty, I know. But I was 7. So I attempted to retry that plan. He punched me in the face as soon as I took a step closer to him. My nose bled profusely. He got off with a warning from the teacher. He said I fell and he tried to help me but I lashed out and he was just "restraining me".

God I hated that kid. But, here I am. A weenie and crying at age 25. I had to get back to the job, so I changed my pants and underwear to non wet clothes. I also took a shower. I turned on some Kate Bush and sat all depressed in my beige rocking chair. I ended up falling asleep. I woke up and it just so happened I was gagged and restrained.

My muffled bursts of noise eventually caught the attention of one of the people in my home. They told me to shut up. The, leader of the operation came in. He wasn't special or anything like in the movies. He didn't look particularly mean either. He had a rather large nose and a pale skinny face. He had interesting glasses that made him look like a nerd. I had to hold back my laughter, remember how all of that usually turns out.

He stuttered to his "henchman" to un-gag me. They pulled the cloth out. I threw up a little in my mouth, it was a dirty sock. One of the men put it back on his foot. He was a fat man, and his shirt was very sweaty. I started to throw up more after I wondered how much sweat was on that sock. But, before anything came up, My bodily functions were interrupted by a nice smack to the face. My eyes teared up and I tried my best to hold it back.

"What the..." The leader said with disgust. "Is this even a man? He cries all the time. The men at the bar said they smelled a distinctive urine smell when they were talking to you..." He dropped the disgust in his voice and calmly said to his men, "Yeah, we got the right man".


CHAPTER II

I burst into a fit of anger and yelled at him. "What did I do! Why are my wrists and arms tied up! Why are you making fun of me! Who are you! What is the matter with you! And, Why is that one so fat!". I panted and was out of breath. The fat henchman yelled at me, citing that his bones were just big and there was nothing wrong with him. I whimpered and between sobs, managed to get "Stop yelling at me!" out.

The leader, or boss, whatever, finally spoke. "Nothing much, we're just supposed to mess with you because those men at the bar you... Harassed. Aren't too happy. So, yeah." I was mad now, "That's it!? That is so stupid!" I burst into anger now. "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!" My fears left me and I broke the thin ropes surrounding my ankles and wrists.

They all stepped back, and I roared, "I will kill you all!" I got up and whipped the folding chair I was in at the fat one. He fell to the floor. I laughed and smiled deeply at my newfound strength. I guess anger is what made me less of a wimp. I then picked the leader up, and used him as a bat. I knocked all the other people out threw him through my window. He fell 20 or so stories. I lived high up in my apartment. I never got near those windows, always so scared. Acrophobia to the max.

I picked the rest of the men up and stole their guns. Threw them out the window too. I relaxed and fell asleep again. I woke to the sound of birds chirping, and the cool morning air caressing my face. My eyes were still closed and I smiled. Then, I realized that I never felt a breeze before in my apartment. I was WAY too scared to open up something at this height. I looked around and saw a gaping hole in my window.

I Freaked out and sobbed uncontrollably. At least for a few minutes, and when I gained enough courage to slowly inch myself towards that wall which was nothing but three panes of glass side by side, the center one being broken. I saw, on the ground, 5 Men. Dead. Bloody pools surrounding them and chunks of flesh, bone and such surrounding the splatter area.

Not to mention the police, lots of police. Yellow tape, the whole complex was surrounded. I wept and wept. And wept. I killed 5 men. 5. 5. 5. Repeating in my mind over and over. I My whole floor was wet after more than hour of tears falling off of my face. I then heard a knock at my door. Instinct made me back up trying to find a corner to hide in and ignore the raps. I ended up backing up into the open air. My arms quickly jerked forward and kept myself from falling, but not before being cut by the glass.

The pain made me barely able to hold on and I tried to use my legs and build momentum with my body like some kind of inch worm and fall back in the house. My feet slipped on the tear-wet floor and I fell back. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. 20 story's is 200 feet, 200 feet is a long distance. 60 miles an hour is a mile a minute, and if I used division, this fall would be 20 seconds if I maintained a speed of 60 Miles per hour. Probably not, my math never was good.

CHAPTER III

I was roused by a human voice. Seemingly human. But judging from the recent chain of events, I wouldn't doubt it if it were otherwise. I tried to move, but was constricted. By a full body cast. My eyes were covered and my mouth and nose were the only parts of me left uncovered. The voice said. "Max. Max. Are you there. i groaned and tried to say "yes". The person yelled. "He's awake! 1 year of being in a coma! HE IS AWAKE!". I wondered why after a year they hadn't taken the cast off. Things heal faster than that, I thought.

The doctor said he had some bad news. They found 5 dead bodies near where I fell and they also had proof I killed them. As soon as I was out of the cast, he said, I would be put into police custody. I wanted to weep. But, I didn't because I thought of how awesome I was. Dude I thought, I am so awesome. I just killed 5 bad guys, fell 200 feet and survived, and now I think I am less of a girl. I am so awesome. AKL would be happy, That was his dad.

2 months passed and he was out of his cast and out of rehab. His muscles worked again, and he worked out more than he should have, claiming to still not have function of his muscles in order to get strong and big. eventually they kicked him out, but he was AWESOME now. He went back to the same bar where the men were that started this whole ordeal.

They saw him and cackled, uproarious laughter. "O' GOD! It's the boy-o who tried to intimidate us! 'E was in the news! I 'eard about that! He fell and broke every bone in 'is-" He gurgled and made wet noises in his throat. His friends quit laughing. They looked and saw a fountain of blood gushing out of his throat.

"What'd you do to him!" One said. "That was the jugular. I just cut it. The same demise will be yours if you don't, one, give me the information I need, and two, scram afterwards." I yelled. The whole bar was looking. I looked around and saw a man on a pay-phone. He kept staring back at me. I got a cell phone cal after he hung up. He also left.

"Hello?", I answered. "Yes, Max, the job is over, we no longer need the men dead. Go home, find some other job to cry about you wuss." He demanded. "What?" I asked angrily and inquisitively. "Go home" The phone clicked. I put the phone away and demanded answers from the men. They told me obviously bogus information. I let them go. I had other business to take care of.

CHAPTER IV

I went to the office of my unnamed employer and told him that nobody calls me names, or makes fun of me anymore. He laughed at me and told me that I was nothing but a fool. He only hired me to have me dead, killed at the place of the gang I was supposed to kill. I took a pen from his cup and he yelled at me. "What do you think you're doing!" I took the pen and stabbed him in the leg. Don't make fun of me.

"FINE FINE! Just stop!" He exclaimed. I told him to give me a job and his wallet. He surrendered the wallet and said he was going to find me a job.

END OF PART I

Now, I want feedback. I will make "PART II" if anyone actually likes this. Please, don't go easy on it or anything. The whole truth please.

I don't have time for a review, but I wanted to let you know I think your humor was clever and--perhaps--a little misunderstood. I thought the idea and the story were absolutely hilarious.

I find it odd that anyone could think it was serious.

It also reminds of things that make me think of stories. Most of my stories begin with conversations I've had with myself.

You owned. Imagination of a true writer.

Henry wrote:This is a story that I decided to write inspired by me and a friend. We were talking about what we would name our child, when and if we had one. I said I Really didn't know but he had a rather humorous answer. "I'd name my kid Max Killer! That name is so awesome! He'd be the coolest kid ever!". I replied back, "He's going to be beaten up a lot at school.". He yelled in fury, "NO HE WOULDN'T! He'd know how to beat people up and stuff, JUST because his name is 'Max Killer'!".

Chapter I

The name is Killer, Max Killer. I was down at the bar scoping out my target. I was hired by an unnamed employer. He wanted men dead. Lots of them. It was my job to fulfill his wishes. I decided to get some information at this bar. This was my first mission, and I was an idiot. I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy men with many tattoos were. I sat myself down. Not a good move.

"Hey! What're you doing!"

I panicked, I felt a strong urge to run home, just as I did when those bullies beat me up in that schoolyard. I didn't, I couldn't. I froze, "I just... Wanted... To... Um." I felt warmth running down my legs. "I just wanted to..." I paused, guessing how long I could stay without any pain being inflicted on me. "SELL YOU SOME TABLES AND STOOLS!!!" I blurted as fast as I could. Less than a millisecond later, I bolted. I was out of the pub.

I got to my apartment and cried. Remembering all of the days that my dad said I was awesome, and that I could win any battle, win anything. The complete opposite happened. The first "beef" I had with someone was in the second grade. His name was Jacob. That was a stupid name. And, I did start the fight after all. I said his name was girly, especially compared to mine.

I attempted to leap upon his back and pummel his face. I planned it out in my head. I was then to do a back flip and kick him before he fell backwards. Then I was going to jump on his back while he was on the floor (Presumably he would be unconscious by then) and do a victory dance with cleats on. All I manged to do was get flung back, and the wood chips dug into my body and went in my underwear. I groaned and got up.

I also imagined I would say something witty every battle I partook in. So, in pain, I mumbled "That's how you want to play it, eh?" Not very witty, I know. But I was 7. So I attempted to retry that plan. He punched me in the face as soon as I took a step closer to him. My nose bled profusely. He got off with a warning from the teacher. He said I fell and he tried to help me but I lashed out and he was just "restraining me".

God I hated that kid. But, here I am. A weenie and crying at age 25. I had to get back to the job, so I changed my pants and underwear to non wet clothes. I also took a shower. I turned on some Kate Bush and sat all depressed in my beige rocking chair. I ended up falling asleep. I woke up and it just so happened I was gagged and restrained.

My muffled bursts of noise eventually caught the attention of one of the people in my home. They told me to shut up. The, leader of the operation came in. He wasn't special or anything like in the movies. He didn't look particularly mean either. He had a rather large nose and a pale skinny face. He had interesting glasses that made him look like a nerd. I had to hold back my laughter, remember how all of that usually turns out.

He stuttered to his "henchman" to un-gag me. They pulled the cloth out. I threw up a little in my mouth, it was a dirty sock. One of the men put it back on his foot. He was a fat man, and his shirt was very sweaty. I started to throw up more after I wondered how much sweat was on that sock. But, before anything came up, My bodily functions were interrupted by a nice smack to the face. My eyes teared up and I tried my best to hold it back.

"What the..." The leader said with disgust. "Is this even a man? He cries all the time. The men at the bar said they smelled a distinctive urine smell when they were talking to you..." He dropped the disgust in his voice and calmly said to his men, "Yeah, we got the right man".


CHAPTER II

I burst into a fit of anger and yelled at him. "What did I do! Why are my wrists and arms tied up! Why are you making fun of me! Who are you! What is the matter with you! And, Why is that one so fat!". I panted and was out of breath. The fat henchman yelled at me, citing that his bones were just big and there was nothing wrong with him. I whimpered and between sobs, managed to get "Stop yelling at me!" out.

The leader, or boss, whatever, finally spoke. "Nothing much, we're just supposed to mess with you because those men at the bar you... Harassed. Aren't too happy. So, yeah." I was mad now, "That's it!? That is so stupid!" I burst into anger now. "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!" My fears left me and I broke the thin ropes surrounding my ankles and wrists.

They all stepped back, and I roared, "I will kill you all!" I got up and whipped the folding chair I was in at the fat one. He fell to the floor. I laughed and smiled deeply at my newfound strength. I guess anger is what made me less of a wimp. I then picked the leader up, and used him as a bat. I knocked all the other people out threw him through my window. He fell 20 or so stories. I lived high up in my apartment. I never got near those windows, always so scared. Acrophobia to the max.

I picked the rest of the men up and stole their guns. Threw them out the window too. I relaxed and fell asleep again. I woke to the sound of birds chirping, and the cool morning air caressing my face. My eyes were still closed and I smiled. Then, I realized that I never felt a breeze before in my apartment. I was WAY too scared to open up something at this height. I looked around and saw a gaping hole in my window.

I Freaked out and sobbed uncontrollably. At least for a few minutes, and when I gained enough courage to slowly inch myself towards that wall which was nothing but three panes of glass side by side, the center one being broken. I saw, on the ground, 5 Men. Dead. Bloody pools surrounding them and chunks of flesh, bone and such surrounding the splatter area.

Not to mention the police, lots of police. Yellow tape, the whole complex was surrounded. I wept and wept. And wept. I killed 5 men. 5. 5. 5. Repeating in my mind over and over. I My whole floor was wet after more than hour of tears falling off of my face. I then heard a knock at my door. Instinct made me back up trying to find a corner to hide in and ignore the raps. I ended up backing up into the open air. My arms quickly jerked forward and kept myself from falling, but not before being cut by the glass.

The pain made me barely able to hold on and I tried to use my legs and build momentum with my body like some kind of inch worm and fall back in the house. My feet slipped on the tear-wet floor and I fell back. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. 20 story's is 200 feet, 200 feet is a long distance. 60 miles an hour is a mile a minute, and if I used division, this fall would be 20 seconds if I maintained a speed of 60 Miles per hour. Probably not, my math never was good.

CHAPTER III

I was roused by a human voice. Seemingly human. But judging from the recent chain of events, I wouldn't doubt it if it were otherwise. I tried to move, but was constricted. By a full body cast. My eyes were covered and my mouth and nose were the only parts of me left uncovered. The voice said. "Max. Max. Are you there. i groaned and tried to say "yes". The person yelled. "He's awake! 1 year of being in a coma! HE IS AWAKE!". I wondered why after a year they hadn't taken the cast off. Things heal faster than that, I thought.

The doctor said he had some bad news. They found 5 dead bodies near where I fell and they also had proof I killed them. As soon as I was out of the cast, he said, I would be put into police custody. I wanted to weep. But, I didn't because I thought of how awesome I was. Dude I thought, I am so awesome. I just killed 5 bad guys, fell 200 feet and survived, and now I think I am less of a girl. I am so awesome. AKL would be happy, That was his dad.

2 months passed and he was out of his cast and out of rehab. His muscles worked again, and he worked out more than he should have, claiming to still not have function of his muscles in order to get strong and big. eventually they kicked him out, but he was AWESOME now. He went back to the same bar where the men were that started this whole ordeal.

They saw him and cackled, uproarious laughter. "O' GOD! It's the boy-o who tried to intimidate us! 'E was in the news! I 'eard about that! He fell and broke every bone in 'is-" He gurgled and made wet noises in his throat. His friends quit laughing. They looked and saw a fountain of blood gushing out of his throat.

"What'd you do to him!" One said. "That was the jugular. I just cut it. The same demise will be yours if you don't, one, give me the information I need, and two, scram afterwards." I yelled. The whole bar was looking. I looked around and saw a man on a pay-phone. He kept staring back at me. I got a cell phone cal after he hung up. He also left.

"Hello?", I answered. "Yes, Max, the job is over, we no longer need the men dead. Go home, find some other job to cry about you wuss." He demanded. "What?" I asked angrily and inquisitively. "Go home" The phone clicked. I put the phone away and demanded answers from the men. They told me obviously bogus information. I let them go. I had other business to take care of.

CHAPTER IV

I went to the office of my unnamed employer and told him that nobody calls me names, or makes fun of me anymore. He laughed at me and told me that I was nothing but a fool. He only hired me to have me dead, killed at the place of the gang I was supposed to kill. I took a pen from his cup and he yelled at me. "What do you think you're doing!" I took the pen and stabbed him in the leg. Don't make fun of me.

"FINE FINE! Just stop!" He exclaimed. I told him to give me a job and his wallet. He surrendered the wallet and said he was going to find me a job.

END OF PART I

Now, I want feedback. I will make "PART II" if anyone actually likes this. Please, don't go easy on it or anything. The whole truth please.

I love it. Please make Part II

Niiice!

I'd rather not nit-pick, considering others hav mostly gotten it down, but I agree one hundred percent with Chern. An imagination that awesome really could go a long away.

Anyways, great job, and keep it up! Max is hilarious. =D

-SELA

"This was my first mission, and I was an idiot."

i laughed so hard at this. You have a good sense of being comedic and writing a story at the same time. I like your real life story of how this came to be. I , myself do this constantly and am never disappointed. good job

Okay. First all numbers need to be spelled out. ENter after another person starts to speak. And thrird, just to sound mean( ) print this out and read over it. You'll find a lot of misstakes, I hope anyways. Hope I was helpful to a dagree. And printing it out doe work.

-AMber

I like how you start with a James bond-like intro

Henry wrote: The name is Killer, Max Killer.

On the part where you write

Henry wrote: I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy men with many tattoos were. I sat myself down.

you can use the tattoos as an adjective, witch makes the sentence less confusing. How about 'I went up to one of the tables where a bunch of rowdy, tattoed men were.'

I liked the story though. You did a nice job.

I think that this story was well written and planned out with a fiendish plot. You did use a little too much of the word "I." Also, don't use any blasphemy!

to be honest I thought this story was very...weird, though I do find some of the jokes v funny (it helped when I realised it was meant to be a comedy).

but my one big complain, which has sort of been covered before, is chapter III. It seems a bit all over the place, and the part with the same guys in the same bar seemed a bit too conveniant.

apart from that i thought the first two chapters were funny and good. keep writing

k