Tyrant Toby Chapter 1

Buzz

I'm standing at the edge of a cliff with one hand wrapped around the waist of the most beautiful woman in the world, and the other gripping an absurdly large firearm. The giant wasps become larger as they fly our way. I passionately kiss the dame, then shoot all the flying creatures in twenty seconds flat.

Buzz

I wipe sweat from my forehead as I study the device in front of me. Some idiot with an eye patch and iron jaw left a bomb at the Metropolitan City Bank, and it just so happens that I'm the only one qualified to disarm it. Pulling a set of small scissors from my tool kit, I place them in the cutting position over the blue wire, the red wire, then the blue wire again. Of course, I know what I'm doing, but this makes it an ounce more dramatic. I cut the blue wire and save the day. Everyone at the bank cheers, "Toby, Toby, Toby!" and confetti falls from the ceiling.

Buzz

I open my eyes. Like every other day, my dingy room is waiting to greet me. There are two things I do every morning right after waking up. One, I daydream about being awesome, and, two, I make them extremely cliche. It's not my fault, though, because I have no real life experience to play off of.

Mr. Orlando can be heard upstairs doing his daily aerobics, sending little bits of the roof into the air. He happened to be a very big man, an ex-football player, and if I every had the audacity to ask him to stop, he'd most likely snap my spine in half. Yeah, I'm a chicken, go ahead and laugh.

I roll out of bed and begin the ritual of grooming, not that it matters. I take a quick shower, spray a little deodorant here and there, then put on some blue jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. Quickly, I slip on some socks from the hamper and tie my shoes tight. Making my way across the apartment, if you could call it that, I grab some poptarts from the counter and run out the door.

Once out of the complex, it takes another ten minutes of running just to watch the subway leave and have to wait another five minutes for the next one. The boss would give me hell, or at least more than what she gives me normally. That's the great thing about working at Emerson Bookstore, the independent bookstore that cares, there isn't a worry. Nobody takes extra shifts so their co-workers can go party on Saturday nights. Nobody gets stuck with doing inventory and stocking every Sunday. Nobody is denied a raise because their boss hates them for no apparent reason. I guess it's just my luck that I happen to be that Nobody. Yep, I'm good old Toby "Nobody" Henderson, doormat extraordinaire.

The stupid subway shows up again, with only a few seats left, so I plop down near the door. I check to make sure my wallet and house keys are still there and enjoy the ride, until the next stop. Like clockwork, Ms. Pregnant Priss shows up as soon as the doors open and gives me glares, which ultimately lead to me giving her the only seat. Then I stand for another eight minutes, jump out of the subway train like a madman, and rush up the stairs and across the street to work.

The snarling harpy, she-devil boss, or Rebecca Lockhart as few know her by, is standing right at the entrance pretending to great customers, but she was really waiting for a chance to kill me with the newest vampire soap opera that was conveniently placed at her side, though her voice would have the same effect without damaging store goods. Taking a deep breath, I strolled in trying to look as tall as I possibly could.

"Toby! How nice of you to show up today, and only twenty minutes late! Good job!" Her eyes shook when she lied, or was being sarcastic. They were shaking now.

"Sorry, the subway was busy and I had to wait for the later train."

"Oh, using that excuse already? It's too early in the month. Sure you don't won't to try the elderly woman asking for help across the street or the lost schoolgirl again?" She laughed, making the only part of her body that wasn't anorexic, which also happened to be the only part of her body she paid for, wobble.

"I'll make up for it, I promise! Um, how about I come in early Sunday to stock and everything? Maybe clean the back room?" I hated myself for doing it, but I couldn't stop. If I lost this job, it'd be hard to find another one and still make enough to not be homeless. Working for the rich, spoiled daughter of a real estate tycoon was horrible, and she treated me like crap, but it beat working at McDonalds.

"Thanks, Toby!" She sauntered off to annoy the hell out of someone else.

I grabbed my name tag off the counter, pinned it to my shirt, and started the rounds. I always had a mutual hatred of rounds. I go up and ask someone if they need help, they say no, and I end up walking away in an awkward manner. When turning the corner and heading down the Fantasy aisle, I got the shock of my life. Right in front of me was a man that looked like he belonged in some National Geographic magazine. He had the flowing green robes, the shaved head, the bone necklace that looked like he'd made it a few minutes ago, and a cane with animals carved on it. Wait, maybe it was a wand? I approached the guy cautiously.

"Excuse me, sir? Can I help you?"

With the biggest grin I'd ever seen, he replied, "No, Toby, I'm here to help you."

I really liked this. Especially the beginning, with the dreams. One thing I'd add though is if you could think up another one that would be nice. Three just seems like a more rounded number, and you almost expected it to be there and when it wasn't you were jarred. I really enjoyed your main caharacter's voice, they way he described things was awesome. You did a really good job with this sentence:

She laughed, making the part of her body that wasn't anorexic, which also happened to be the part of her body she paid for, wobble.

But for some reason whenever I read it my mind automatically fits the word "only" in between "the" and "part".

Basically, I really liked this. I would love to read more once you've written it. Please PM me if you have the time. Sorry my review is so disjointed.

cooldude19967 wrote:I really liked this. Especially the beginning, with the dreams. One thing I'd add though is if you could think up another one that would be nice. Three just seems like a more rounded number, and you almost expected it to be there and when it wasn't you were jarred. I really enjoyed your main caharacter's voice, they way he described things was awesome. You did a really good job with this sentence:

She laughed, making the part of her body that wasn't anorexic, which also happened to be the part of her body she paid for, wobble.

But for some reason whenever I read it my mind automatically fits the word "only" in between "the" and "part".

Basically, I really liked this. I would love to read more once you've written it. Please PM me if you have the time. Sorry my review is so disjointed.

Actually, I had only in both those places, but took it out. I'll put it back. Thanks for reviewing it.

Hey there! Sorry about the wait.

Manny wrote:Buzz

I'm standing at the edge of a cliff with one hand wrapped around the waist of the most beautiful woman in the world, and the other gripping an absurdly large firearm. The giant wasps become larger as they fly our way. I passionately kiss the dame, then shoot all the flying creatures in twenty seconds flat.

Buzz

I wipe sweat from my forehead as I study the device in front of me. Some idiot with an eye patch and iron jaw left a bomb at the Metropolitan City Bank, and it just so happens that I'm the only one qualified to disarm it. Pulling a set of small scissors from my tool kit, I place them in the cutting position over the blue wire, the red wire, then the blue wire again. Of course, I know what I'm doing, but this makes it an ounce more dramatic. I cut the blue wire and save the day. Everyone at the bank cheers, "Toby, Toby, Toby!" and confetti falls from the ceiling.

Buzz

I open my eyes. Like every other day, my dingy room is waiting to greet me. There are two things I do every morning right after waking up. One, I daydream about being awesome, and, two, I make them extremely cliche. It's not my fault, though, because I have no real life experience to play off of. [Okay well at least he knows they're cliche. That makes it marginally better but currently I am accounting the upper two sections against him as a deep character flaw.]

Mr. Orlando can be heard upstairs doing his daily aerobics, sending little bits of the roof into the air. He [s]happened[/s] happens to be a very big man, an ex-football player, and if I ever[s]y had[/s] have the audacity to ask him to stop, he'd most likely snap my spine in half. Yeah, I'm a chicken, go ahead and laugh.

I roll out of bed and begin the ritual of grooming, not that it matters. I take a quick shower, spray a little deodorant here and there, then put on some blue jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. Quickly, I slip on some socks from the hamper and tie my shoes tight. Making my way across the apartment, if you could call it that, I grab some poptarts from the counter and run out the door.

Once out of the complex, it takes another ten minutes of running just to watch the subway leave and have to wait another five minutes for the next one. The boss [s]would[/s] will give me hell, or at least more than what she gives me normally. That's the great thing about working at Emerson Bookstore, the independent bookstore that cares, there isn't a worry. Nobody takes extra shifts so their co-workers can go party on Saturday nights. Nobody gets stuck with doing inventory and stocking every Sunday. Nobody is denied a raise because their boss hates them for no apparent reason. I guess it's just my luck that I happen to be that Nobody. Yep, I'm good old Toby "Nobody" Henderson, doormat extraordinaire.

The stupid subway shows up again, with only a few seats left, so I plop down near the door. I check to make sure my wallet and house keys are still there and enjoy the ride, until the next stop. Like clockwork, Ms. Pregnant Priss shows up as soon as the doors open and gives me glares, which ultimately lead to me giving her the only seat. Then I stand for another eight minutes, jump out of the subway train like a madman, and rush up the stairs and across the street to work.

The snarling harpy, she-devil boss, or Rebecca Lockhart as few know her by, is standing right at the entrance pretending to [s]great[/s] greet customers, but she's[s] was[/s] really waiting for a chance to kill me with the newest vampire soap opera that's[s] was[/s] conveniently placed at her side, though her voice would have the same effect without damaging store goods. Taking a deep breath, I stroll[s]ed[/s] in trying to look as tall as I possibly[s] could[/s] can.

"Toby! How nice of you to show up today, and only twenty minutes late! Good job!" Her eyes shook when she lied, or was being sarcastic. They were shaking now. [Just a note this time: you've switched completely into past tense. I'll not point it out again but pick one or the other and edit accordingly ^^]

"Sorry, the subway was busy and I had to wait for the later train."

"Oh, using that excuse already? It's too early in the month. Sure you don't won't to try the elderly woman asking for help across the street or the lost schoolgirl again?" She laughed, making the only part of her body that wasn't anorexic, which also happened to be the only part of her body she paid for, wobble.

"I'll make up for it, I promise! Um, how about I come in early Sunday to stock and everything? Maybe clean the back room?" I hated myself for doing it, but I couldn't stop. If I lost this job, it'd be hard to find another one and still make enough to not be homeless. Working for the rich, spoiled daughter of a real estate tycoon was horrible, and she treated me like crap, but it beat working at McDonalds.

"Thanks, Toby!" [What sort of tone is this said in? The character isn't well enough know for you to leave it at that.] She sauntered off to annoy the hell out of someone else.

I grabbed my name tag off the counter, pinned it to my shirt, and started the rounds. I always had a mutual hatred of rounds. I go up and ask someone if they need help, they say no, and I end up walking away in an awkward manner. When turning the corner and heading down the Fantasy aisle, I got the shock of my life. Right in front of me was a man that looked like he belonged in some National Geographic magazine. He had the flowing green robes, the shaved head, the bone necklace that looked like he'd made it a few minutes ago, and a cane with animals carved on it. Wait, maybe it was a wand? I approached the guy cautiously.

"Excuse me, sir? Can I help you?"

With the biggest grin I'd ever seen, he replied, "No, Toby, I'm here to help you."

[Is your narrator inventing badly cliched adventures again? I jest, I jest. This is a good start. You've got an interesing narrator with a very smooth, enjoyable tone of voice and so far there isn't much of a plot and your characters are a touch shallow but it's a good beginning and I can't complain until there's more.

So for now I'll say carry on, let me know if you'd like me to take a look at a second part and try to avoid those stereotypes in at least some places. It's interesting that your character seems to think in stereotypes and cliches but there's got to be something more.]