Sudden Impulse: Alexander the Great

"What the fuck ya think this is, kid? A baby factory? Get on out of here! Scram!" A tall man with a scar on his cheek shouts this out at the top of his lungs as the beggars linger around searching for scraps and metal.

The boy he directed his question to watches his rustic shoes and says nothing for a moment and his scruffy looking face finally looks up and says, "But I just want a brother, mister. Isn't this the orphanage with all the abandoned kids?"

"Yeah, and we ain't got no more room for ya, bastards. Ya'll need to learn how to keep ya'lls parents." He says rudely.

Across the street from that same scene downtown, there's a man in a trench coat reading his newspaper next to a cardboard newsstand. His eyes skim over the page and his ears pick up the vocals. He shakes his head and turns to the clerk.

"It's a shame this town."

The clerk with a handlebar mustache and large belly gives him a grim look. "Shut up and pay for the paper. This is not a library."

"Sucks to you then." He replies as he digs into his trousers for some change and places it on the table.

A sophisticated woman quickly walks by and the trench coat man leaves and says, " ...and you have a good day too, sir!"

He smiles at his audacity and briskly paces himself to the other end of town with the tattered paper from yesterday that he purchased.

"Sir, would you like to buy some books? These are guaranteed to not have been stolen."

A boy of about twelve looks up at the young gentleman with peering eyes that spell out misery and pride.

"My brother and I we're just simpletons, but we have got a great selection here. Everything from Aristotle and Sophocles to Shakespeare and Dickens. How about it, sir? They're a bargain here."

Alexander grins and blinks his contacts back into place, "It's alright. Here I'll buy one. Is this enough for that book?"

"Perfect, sir, Thank you very much."

The boys run off with a gleeful stammer.

He thinks back to the platinum blonde boy who sold him the book and grins again.

Alexander then crosses the street into the piss drenched sidewalks of downtown. It smells foul and leaves a stagnant odor in the iridescent air. He steps up to Building A on Rutherford Ave. and into his small apartment.

The brown and absurd floors of false wood stare up at him, flashing images of past homicides of the run-down complex.

Peeling red paint and shouts from every door in the hall along with gritty graffiti show extreme signs of decaying residue of past domestic violence.

Alexander stares into the small peep hole of apartment 4A and hesitates before knocking.

"What the hell do you want? Leave me alone!! I'm fucking busy!" shouts the hole with a dent by the brass knob.

"It's me! I'm here about the appointment."

"Ah, Fuck! It's freaking 10 o clock in the morning. Can't you come later?"

"No, now let me in."

"Come back later. I'm not opening the door."

Alexander's profile is seen from the hallway window as a dark silhouette. He heaves a big sigh full of regret and boiling frustration. He pushes the door open with all his weight.

He looks around the decadent room. It arouses a certain strange and peculiar odor. Strewn stuff is thrown around everywhere in obscure places and awkward positions.

"Did you just break into my house? I'll call the cops on you for that. Just you wait, asshole!"

Alexander hears him shout from a certain direction. He explores the room a little longer with curious eyes before walking around in a confused manner.

He opens the bedroom and finds nothing but a bed with a huge piss stain, a purple curtain blowing in the wind because of a broken window, and condom wrappers everywhere. He moves on and sees a light under a doorway.

Opening the door he finds an explosive shocking image.

"Dylan?"

Dylan Marie Valentino sits on a toilet with a guitar hanging in the shower next to him and a shotgun in his hand.

The shotgun is pointed at Alexander and Dylan follows him like a hawk.

"What did I just get through telling you? People have no patience in this world. Why did you have to be one of those people, Alex? Get the fuck out here and come back later before I blow up your heat with this gun."

Alexander had already begun to sweat and tried to ignore the fact that a man with his pants pulled down and his ass hanging over a bowl was pointing a gun at him.

"I can't though. I have to leave town soon. I can't wait."

Alexander says as he pulls out his "play it cool card" and attempts to ignore the foul stench of shit filling his nostrils.

"Then I suggest you leave now or forget coming here."

He blasted his shotgun. The shotgun shell flew through the wall behind him and the sound made a dangling piece of glass from the mirror shatter.

"The next one won't miss. I guarantee that."

Dylan scrunched his face as Alexander heard another plop go into the toilet; he didn't hesitate to run that time.