although I’m still very much british, how dou feel about laughing at midgets? Or tom cruise at least… it can’t be as sacreligious as mocking the death of a president…
Humor/Satire / JFK: The Last Conspiracy
Havana, 1961. The Bay of Pigs invasion has gone disastrously wrong for the American forces.
Castro becomes more distrustful of America, America more fearful of communism and the dictator that bucked the trend in terms of dictatorial moustaches.
’’He’s like Stalin but with a moustache on his chin!’’ cries an American journalist. Soon he is dead, his body ripped to shreds by machine gun fire.
You gotta have respect. NEVER dis Fiddy when you’re in his ‘hood.
Down by a tapas bar a young boy cries. He is just 18 years old. He hates communism, he can’t stand what it’s done to his country. His parents were murdered in their own home by Castro. He is very much the Latin Harry Potter.
The boy’s name was rather hispanically and predictably, Juan. His heart bled epically (but mostly metaphorically) to flee his homeland. He dreamt of a new life on the sun drenched, democratic shores of Florida (don’t forget, this is 1961, Jeb Bush will not be elected Sate governor for about another 35 years…)
- * *
Lt. Frank Hardcop surveyed the calm water ahead of him.
All around the deep blue stretched as far as the eye could see. He was relaxing on the S.S Montana, desperately trying to block out the visions of the Bay of Pigs.
He shuddered as he slugged down his glass of bourbon.
’’GOD DAMN THAT COMMIE MOTHERFUCKER!’’ he screamed out, a cry heard by no one.
- *
John was sitting on a grassy knoll on Capitol Hill. He was having a hard time at home and at work.
His attempt to quash Fidel Castro had failed dramatically and the one thing he had penetrated successfully (Marilyn Monroe) had led to domestic disapproval- his wife had caught him.
But he knew what to do, he had a plan.
A big box of chocolates for Jackie, an even bigger box of explosive cigars for Castro. And a top military assassin.
He went into his office and dialled the only number he could ring.
- *
The surf crashed casually onto the shore. The Florida Keys, a perfect haven, almost oblivious to the bloodthirsty threat across the water…
’’SHARK!’’ screamed a young boy. He is only pretending and incredibly amused at the frantic evacuation of the warm sea, the calm blue dramatically frothing like a $5 cappuccino. The sort of cappuccino that come from Starbucks. The sort of overpriced beverage that those commies hate.
A young woman stays in the water. She is only 17 and providing the sort of gratuitous nudity many more serious writers try to avoid. But there is a valid reason for her nakedness.
Protection. Her pale skin burns easily in the midday sun. And also her uncle is a pervert who drools incessantly over her nicely developing breasts.
How she hated him, how she longed to escape. Anywhere. With anyone.
Not that fat pervert though. No. ‘Fuck him’ she thought. Really rather ironically.
- *
Lt. Frank Hardcop was standing in the Oval office, it was exactly midday.
President John F. Kennedy faced out of the windows, admiring his perfectly mown lawn.
’’You know this is an extremely dangerous assignment’’ John stated ’’with overtones of extreme personal danger…’‘
’’I’m aware sir’’ growled the Lieutenant.
’’Good’’ replied the President ’’because the future of our country depends on your actions.’‘
Heavy stuff. Don’t worry, we’ve got a Scarface parody coming up, just roll with it…
’’I won’t be back until the bitch is dead’’ snarled Hardcop.
’’I don’t want to see you until he’s dead. And if I do… I’m gonna blow your head clean off.’‘
- *
Juan had made it to Florida in early ‘62. It was around June. He’s claimed political refuge during the missile crisis. He’d gotten himself a job with the Miami Evening Star- largely due to his first hand experience of Castro’s Cuba.
He was walking down a street running parallel along Miami Beach. He could hear screams from a 5th floor apartment. In order to link characters (however implausibly) he climbed up the stairs.
Through a dirty, grime encrusted window he could see a pale, red headed (not bright ginger, but RED) girl being forced into a small, grime encrusted bathroom. She was crying and screaming (because women can multi-task.)
A fat balding man with a 5 inch stiffy came into view.
Was Juan about to become an unwitting voyeur? Is our hero some kind of depraved pervert?
’’NO UNCLE! PLEASE DON’T! NO!’‘
NO! He was a fortunately positioned stranger!
He burst through the door and into the bathroom.
The bald man was angry. He was also a little embarrassed. He was, after all, a balding 50 year old man, about to rape his niece in full view of Miami’s premier Hispanic journalist! AND he’d never been naked in front of another man before. Except his nephew, but he was more a boy. Well, I say boy, the term toddler would be more accurate.
Juan picked up a plank of wood (conveniently lying around to aid plotline) and beat the shit out of the flubbery pervert.
The girl was gasping and crying and screaming. More importantly however she was naked…
’’Oh God! Thank you…’ she wept.
’’No problem’’ said Juan, smiling, satisfied with his own brand of violent vigilante justice. To show he wasn’t smiling at the perky breasts in front of him he offered her a robe. But he was sad to see them go.
’’Who are you?’’ asked the girl curiously, eager to learn the identity of the attractive young man who had just saved her from a brutal incestuous rape.
’’My name is Juan Fontana. I’m a political reporter from Cuba.’‘
’’I’m Mary.’‘
- *
Frank Hardcop was an old fashioned kinda cop. He was eating a cheeseburger, drinking some coffee and intimidating the shady cliental.
There was a young couple sitting in one of the booths. The man had a distinctive accent. An English accent. His girlfriend looked very much as though she had a drug problem.
Frank thought he recognised the man’s light blue Hawaiian shirt from somewhere else.
He tried to eavesdrop in on what they were saying. They sounded as though they were making up.
’’I love you hunny bunny’’ he heard.
Frank knew instinctively what was coming next…
The couple paid and left without a fuss.
When you’ve been a cop for 30 years you get a feeling for that kinda thing…
- *
Mary had been living with Juan for 5 months now. Their days were filled with intrepid journalism, love of democracy and imaginative sexual activities (they are the only two people who managed to ‘google’ themselves before the internet was invented.)
It was a wonderful, liberated time for them both. They’d both escaped the horrors of their past and found their dreams on the sun washed streets of Miami. He was Juan Fontana, but the world would know him by no other name (because there are only so many Scarface references I can shoe horn into this thing.)
It was lunchtime and they were licking melon juice off each other (and for once a euphemism is actually dirtier in its literal meaning…) and talking about the Kennedy parade.
’’Apparently it’s been moved’’ said Mary.
’’Where to?’‘
’’Dallas’‘
’’Dallas? Are we still going?’’ asked Juan.
’’Of course we are! We both love democracy right? And besides, you’ve got to write about it for the paper…’‘
’’Oh yeah’’ remembered Juan ’’but I doubt there will that much to write, I mean, it’s not like he’s going to be doing much…’‘
- *
Hardcop had infiltrated Castro’s setup ingeniously. He’d been working closely with Castro for five months.
Of course he’d had to kill a torture many old colleagues, but luckily he was both sadistic and unsentimental.
And it was worth it. He was to be Fidel Castro’s lone bodyguard for his annual secret trip to Texas. Castro loved beef jerky and bbq sauce; it was an operation of utmost importance…
- *
’’Oh JFK stop y’fussin’!’’ called Mrs Kennedy
’’Sorry’’ said John, placing his comb on the dresser.
’’You’re going to be in a car! No one will even be looking at your hair!’‘
’’I know’’ sighed John ’’I know, I guess I’m just nervous. I’m never doing a parade after this, not in my condition, my nerves just get shot to bits…’‘
- * *
The motorcade was in full swing. Mary and Juan were standing on a small grassy mound, a knoll I suppose, next to a tanned, bearded man in thick black shades. Behind him stood an edgy looking man with a strong jaw.
Juan was puzzled. ‘It can’t be’ he thought…
’’Excuse me’’ asked Juan, addressing the tanned gentleman. Frank Hardcop felt his hand moving towards his holster.
’’Yes’’ said the tanned man.
’’Are you the Cuban dictator who killed my parents, Fidel Castro?’‘
’’Yes’’ said Fidel Castro, somewhat letting his disguise slip.
’’I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!’’ screamed Juan, pulling out a revolver, seemingly from nowhere.
Frank Hardcop withdrew his own .44 Magnum from his holster.
Across the street in a warehouse police sniper Lee Harvey Oswald spotted the incident and fired a shot that eliminated the threat to the President.
Castro ducked as he heard the gunshot, seconds before Frank Hardcop pulled his own trigger. The bullet skimmed Castro’s hat and hit John F. Kennedy square in the back of the head, his brains scattering across the boot of the Cadillac.
Mary screamed and held her lovers limp, Hispanic body (which was bleeding epically and in no way metaphorically.)
Fidel Castro fled back to Cuba with only one jar of bbq sauce.
Lt. Frank Hardcop fell into a life of loneliness, depression and alcoholism.
The day would go down in history as the day people stopped inventing credible conspiracy theories…
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stephanloy reviewed Version 1 -
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You did a good job on this one. The humor seems more comfortable and natural than the gritty, teeth-gnashing detective story. You showed good timing in your punch lines and a clever sprinkling of historical and topical asides. The use of the narrator as a primary character and the recognition of frequently implausible plot devices as just that really carried the story. Good job.
You show a verb tense problem in the first section. The narrative switches with no distinguished pattern between present tense and past.
A few nitpicks:
sort of cappuccino that come from Starbucks
sort of cappuccino that comes from Starbucks
he’d had to kill a torture
he’d had to kill and torture
across the boot of the Cadillac
I believe it was a Lincoln Continental.
In most of your dialogue, you neglect proper punctuation before the attribution.
’’Yes’’ said Fidel Castro
should be: ’’Yes,’’ said Fidel Castro, with a comma at the end of the quote.
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regmusty reviewed Version 1 -
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This is really good, really clever and if it would at all be possible to keep this sort of humour going for a whole book i think you’re onto something.It’s even more pleasing to see an American poke fun at themselves as you’re all so incredibly patriotic to a fault, i can’t beleive you guys voted Bush in twive, anyway keep it up as you have a real talent, cheers from Australia.
Jimmel104 reviewed Version 1 -
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Wonderfully funny. I enjoyed the autors remarks inserted into the awkward characterizations that bade us hold off our judgements. Your characters are hilarious and the names approriate and fun.
I have only two comments (I won’t call them negative).
Comment 1:
I was in Miami in 1961. Starbucks wasn’t around; epically or metaphorically :>)
Comment 2:
I was in Miami in 1961. Cuban refugees were treated poorly in a fashion similar to other minority immigrants throughout our history. Poor Juan would have been a second class citizen at best and never have been allow a position of such prestige.
Alas, and so it goes with such conspiracy theories. Shot down, for want of a bit of history. LOL
Well done. Fun read.
Reaper reviewed Version 1 -
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This was fun to read. I liked it. You have a handful of small grammar errors. Here’s one of them:
He hates communism, he can’t stand what it’s done to his country. (this should be 2 complete sentences.)
It’s just small stuff that you should be able catch if you read it out loud. Also, your tense jumps around a little. You go from past to present. It’s easier and smoother to read if you keep it consistent. I do like all the injected humor in parenthesis. It was a great read. Nice job!
Nani reviewed Version 1 -
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You’re funny, you have a talent for going off on tangents and pulling yourself back before you go off the deep end. You are able to pull off the “wink, wink” aside to the reader, they’re amusing, refreshing, and of course, they’re funny.
But this thing is terribly disjointed. It really could benefit from a few editing rounds, to make the transitions smoother, less jarring. As it is now kinda feels like three or four different stories that happen to be sitting on the same page.
All the same, my hat is off to you; keep writing.
mash reviewed Version 1 -
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I actually gave 10s here. That doesn’t usually happen. Hilarious Exactly what a Humor/Satire should be. There are a couple of lines that are just perfect. ”He is very much the Latin Harry Potter” and “She was crying and screaming (because women can multi-task.)”.
I am a little sad that ole’ Juan had to bite it – and of course JFK, but you can’t have everything, eh? This story served it’s purpose. I enjoyed it and hope to read more.
freckleface reviewed Version 1 -
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Hmmm… 18, eh? Well done. Very well done! It’s creative and cheeky. I like your use of anachronisms (Starbucks, Jeb Bush, google, the internet) to embellish the absurdity of your satire. I also love your parenthetical asides – they’re all clever devices for interspersing the narrator’s personal editorials… so that it reads like color commentary. :)
Several direct bits of feedback for you:
Down by a tapas bar a young boy cries.—You need a comma after bar.
The boy’s name was rather hispanically and predictably, Juan.— hispanically needs a capital H.
the sun drenched, democratic shores of Florida—sun drenched -> sun-drenched
Jeb Bush will not be elected Sate governor— I think you meant to use the word “state” instead of Sate.
All around the deep blue stretched as far as the eye could see.—A comma is needed after around.
He went into his office and dialled the only number he could ring.—dialled -> dialed
‘Fuck him’ she thought. Should read “Fuck him,” she thought.
Lt. Frank Hardcop was standing in the Oval office, it was exactly midday.— You either need a semi-colon after Oval office, or you need a period and to start a new sentence with “It.”
_’’You know this is an extremely dangerous assignment’’ John stated ’’with overtones of extreme personal danger…’‘
’’I’m aware sir’’ growled the Lieutenant.
’’Good’’ replied the President ’’because the future of our country depends on your actions.’‘_— I’m not sure what happened to your quotation marks, but I’m guessing it’s all Urbis’ fault. :) Also, don’t forget the commas that need to go inside the quotations… You left them out quite a bit in the dialogue, especially in the dialogue about the parade moving to Dallas.
He was walking down a street running parallel along Miami Beach. It should read “running parallel to Miami Beach.
Through a dirty, grime encrusted window he could see a pale, red headed (not bright ginger, but RED) girl being forced into a small, grime encrusted bathroom.— grime encrusted -> grime-encrusted; extra space after pale,; and more grime-encrusted… :)
the shady cliental -> the shady clientele
’’I love you hunny bunny’’ he heard.—more funny quotation marks (silly Urbis) and no comma…
managed to ‘google’ themselves— should be “google” or google, but not ‘google’
her lovers limp, Hispanic body—lovers -> lover’s; This made me sad! C’mon, we know that Kennedy dies, but it’d be cool if there was some happy ending tied into here somewhere… One can only wish, eh?
Great story telling… good job.
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