Philly''s P-Hine{t} /> Hardcore Phant-[o]m$ Part One Chapter IX


August 31st, 2014

11:22 p.m.




Herbwas sticking the Brand™ to Randall-

>’Psssssstttttttttghhhh’:was the sound of burning flesh! ===OOOO<


RandallPUNCHED Herb in the arm, the arm he was holding the Brand™ with, and then ranoff like a dog playing fetch, forcing Herb to drop the Brand™ to the ground tothen begin nursing his manly bicep so as to avoid more pain (it didn’t help). Ifnot already apparent, or for a needed emphasis on what was really importanthere, Randall was pretty wasted-

Quietly,Herb, still nursing his arm, “ow…”

“BAHAHAHAHA!”the peanut gallery howled like #Assholes #America(SorryGuys:/).

“Ithurts!” Herb yelled at them. There was a loud splash as Randall jumped in thepool.

“Ishe supposed to be jumping in there?” Herb asked. “Won’t that fuck up the Brand™?-“before being interrupted by Barry.

 “-No you idiot. There’s a shit-ton of chlorinein there, it’ll clean it out-“

“Well,I know that for tattoos-“

“That’sthe ocean dude, don’t go in the ocean.” -Al.


Herbwasn’t too sure Al was right. What were thespecifications, exactly (for specifications, see ‘References’, (1) on page 316)?-

Randallfinally got out of the pool a few minutes of shit-talking later and walkedaggressively (sloppily) back over to the group. He took another quick shot fromoff the table before-

“Imean, what a fuckin’ loser, who would get their gamer tag Branded™ on themselves?-”

“Yo,what was that, Barry!?”

Randallslipped on the concrete just as he finished antagonizing and fell like a drunkenidiot. Everyone laughed. When Randall got up, he immediately ran to Al-

“Whatthe fuck man? You think you’re hardcore???” Randall said and got real close,all up in Al’s grill like he was about to makeout with him or something (ew). “Get Branded™!” Randall continued yelling. “GetBranded™ BITCH!!!” and then he PUSHEDhim, but Al was a decently smart guy, it would seem (apparently smarter thanmost).

“Dude,why would I get your gamer tag Branded™on me?” he said. “I’m not R-Man, you’re R-Man!”

“That’sam.. –mmvb /> good point!” Randall turned back around, looked at House andpointed.

“You!”he cried! And House just replied, “nah man, this is my house, I can’t have myparents knowing I got Branded™.”


“What-dude, are you serious?” Hershel went into panic mode. “House’s excuse didn’teven make any sense-”

“Whatthe FUCK do you think Hershel, youFUCKIN’ PUSSY!? Get Branded™!!!”

“Dude,no way-” Hershel said, backing away with his hands up (like a pussy). “I’m notfucking doin’ that-“


“No.No, I don’t think I’m hardcore,” backing up and raising his hands to show hewasn’t going to do anything with them. “You’re way more hardcore than me. Like,dude, you’re the most hardcore, Icould never be so hardcore to have done what you just did.“


Clearlyaffected by this newfound infinite supply of self-optimism and never-endingunchangeable confidence, Randall turned slowly around, but as he did so- withthe help of the concrete pole holding up House’s house (or, rather, House’sparents’ house-)- he accidentally saved himself from falling over, once again, asa result of his drunkenness.

 “AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-H-“ Barry laughed/reacted(… like a dolphin?).

“Youthink you’re hardcore Barry?”

Randallnow spoke soft and with a confidence also strongly prevalent in his (verysloppy) walk as he slowly moved in closer to the perpetrator (Barry)- and hislatest victim :o.

“Whatthe fuck do you think?” Barry replied.

“Thenget Branded™,” Randall told him.

“No,that’s fuckin’ stupid, you drunk idiot-”

“Oh,I’m a drunk idiot?”

“Yea.You drank over two thirds of that Wild Blue Vodka® handle all by yourself.Shit’s disgusting-“

“Whoyou callin’ a pussy, bitch??-“

Randalldanced his head closer, but Herb got in the middle-

“Getthe fuck off me, asshole,” and Herb put up his hands and backed away as Randallmoved in even closer to Barry (nowalmost pinned up against a foundation supporter pole holding up House’s house-or, more accurately, the house that House’s parents owned and maintained (forthe most part)-)

“Youthink you’re hardcore, Barry? You and your leather boots and sinful heavy metalmusic??? It’s bullshit. All bullshit. Hip-Hop is the way to go: Pac, Biggie,Ol’ Dirty Bastard. Kinka like you: little hardcore black-metal douchebag-bitch bastard.”

Randalland Barry were almost nose-to-nose and Barry was showing no signs of backingdown. In fact, his body movement and tone only implied that he was provokingthe beast (the drunken beast (#HardcoreDrunkBeast)).

 “I’m not getting fucking Branded™, you idiot-“


“Youcan’t even tell what yours is supposed to say!-“

“Again!”and Randall turned around, with his hands up far above his head in excitement.“Let’s go!!!”

Hershelwas already nursing the Brand™ in the fire.

“Alright!”he said with enthusiasm. “Herb!?”

“Ohno I’m not-“

Hershelcarefully handed the freshly heated Brand™ to a held-down-by-his-shoulders Herb(pinned there by a hysterically laughing House and Al) with a squinting Randalllaying on his side right next to him, ready to be Branded™ on the other leg,with his eyes closed tight and ready to embrace. When Hershel gave Herb theflaming clothes hanger, Herb had no choice: he closed his eyes and stuck the Brand™to Randall’s skin as hard as he could.

Thesmell penetrated his nostrils like Hell showing itself specifically,in-detail-idly*!! so bad that he thought this like a crazy person, right thenand there, even though he had no time to really hold the Brand™ down and get agood whiff of it in the first place as Randall immediately got up and ranaround the backyard a few times again (about three hundred square yards) after screaming in #PainedAgony!!! Everyone inthe group was still laughing hard, and even harder now than ever before in thehangout area under the house of House’s deck- or perhaps House’s parent’s deckwould be the more accurate description- everyone, that is /> but Barry.

Randallcame back sweating and staggering worse than ever. He looked kind of like adrunk Courtney Love at that one awards show in the early 90s where-

“What’sup BARRY!? Who’s hardcore now MOTHERFUCKER!?”

“Whatare you saying now?-”

“GetBranded™ HONKY-“ and Randall PUSHED Barry hard- AGAIN!!!- forcing Barry tostagger to his feet in order to ensure his not falling over like some moron orstupid dumbass or-

Barrydidn’t like that very much >B).

 “Yo, don’t fuckin’ push me dawg,” he repliedslowly, shaking his head, moving aggressively in.

“Don’tfuckin’ push me man,” Barry repeated.

“You’renot hardcore,” Randall said back, also moving in closer. “You think you’rehardcore, well you’re fuckin’ not-“ and Randall PUSHED him again so that Barry,not being wasted or in the slightest sense drunk (just really high), pushed himright back, sending Randall’s face straight into the concrete pole holding up House’shouse, or, as I might prefer say, his mom and dad’s house, respectively.



Thelaughter died off and Randall went in for another punch, but Barry was quick tododge it. It was pretty easy for him. Randall was pretty slow and off-aim. ThenBarry punched Randall hard, right in the nose.


“Hey,come on man!” Herb screamed. “He’s obviously wasted!”

“Hestarted it!”

Alstarted trailing Barry away to get him off Randall’s ass and try to calm himdown as Herb and House leaned down to try and help Randall back to his feet-

“Wait,wait, wait,” Randall said with his left hand holding onto his bleeding nose andmouth and he stood back up. “Herb’s right, Barry. Barry dude.”

Holdingout his right hand as if to shake, Randall seemed genuine (:o), so Barry leanedaround Al to look Randall straight in the eye, like a man, as Al continued totry and gain his attention and calm him down. It might have worked or it mighthave been Randall, but Barry ended up easily walking around Al and toward hisoppressor: Randall with his hand still lingering.

“Yea?We cool?” Barry asked him. “You fuckin’ drunk slob?”

“Yeadude, we cool,” Randall replied and Barry went in for the shake.

Itseemed like a good idea =o. It seemed like the climax of the night was over,like everything was all going to go back to being unique, special- but itwasn’t. Until now, it’d felt like it was just a normal night where somebodycommitted to being Branded™ was therefore- Branded™- and the man just hurt wassuper stoked on it as any person just having been Branded™ with a moldingclothes hanger would be, but Randall had other plans. Apparently, no matterwhat seems and looks to be happening, the world always has a way of surprisingyou, even if, after the surprise, you look back and it wasn’t all thatsurprising-

Randall’dtricked him!

Barryfelt his hand pulled in and quickly decided not to let Randall get the lastlaugh. After easily dodging Randall’s punch (if you could call it that), Barrylet his left arm hurl to hit Randall right in the middle of his already bloodyface.

Randallimmediately passed out and fell, however, hitting his head on yet anotherconcrete pole holding up House’s house- or, to be more exact, House’s parent’sspace of quarters- and then, to make things even worse, he fell straight intothe fire pit, knocking the thing over, as well as the case of awesome, 10.5%ABV ‘Planetary Duality’ beer that House had just recently unveiled as asurprise for everyone to enjoy (they ran out of ‘Spicy Mexican’ (as everyonealways does </3)). House really was really a very nice guy-

Atthis point, Al, Herb and House took some serious notice. Randall’s palm quicklycaught flame (#HisArmCaughtFlame!),but luckily, they were able to pull him away and put it out in time, so thatthe rest of him didn’t catch fire as well.

“Whatthe fuck Barry!?” Al yelled. Randall was unconscious and on the ground. Herbhad to stomp on his hand in order to save it. He did the best he could />

Housescreamed: “the fuckin’ beer is destroyed!”

“Well,he shoulda watched his fuckin’ mouth!” Barry replied.

“Dude,you’re paying for this. This case alone was a hundred and two dollars-“

“Man,fuck you. I ain’t paying you a hundred dollars-“

House,“a hundred and two!-“

“Ahundred and two dollars just because Randall got too fuckin’ drunk to realizehow much of a fuckin’ burnout he’s turned into-“

“Ahundred and two dollars for a case of beer?” Al asked. “How the fuck do they makethis shit, ‘brewed with love, personally by Emma Watson and Beyoncé on thepremises!?-“

“Alright,everyone’s paying for it!” House interrupted. “That’s $20.25 each unless youguys are gonna clean all this shit up, in which case I might take off thequarter-”


Randallcame back to consciousness and tried to stand up. It was really funny if thewhole thing hadn’t gotten so ‘serious’ so fast like when liberals get pissedoff at good comedians for doing her/his job well :D.

“Dude,calm down,” Herb tried to reason. “You’re extremely injured right now-”

“Alrightguys, I think I’m out.”

 “I got work in the morning,” Hershel continued


Herbinterrupted the silence, “dude-”

“YeaI got work early too, brah’.” -House. “You still gonna help clean all this shitup though or-“

“Alrightsee ya, pals!” and Hershel was off! Up the stairs and on the drive home =DD.

Randallwas quickly back on his feet and back to taunting Barry.

“You’renot hardcore man!!!!”

 “Dude, you are wasted!!!” Barry ‘calmly’ fired back.

“Notso wasted to forget that you’re NOT HARDCORE!!-“

“Alright,I think it’s time for you to come in man,” House interrupted. “You‘ve had a longday.” House then proceeded to help Randall inside his house, surprisingly completelyunopposed, or: the house in which House resided, but was actually owned andpaid for by his parents #MomAndDad.

Aland Herb stayed, once House and Randall were officially in the building and thedoor closed, looking, amazed, at Barry. Eventually, after quite the awkwardsilence (…), Al picked up a roll of paper towels off the bar-top and started toclean some of the blood off the concrete structure poles holding up House’shouse- or, rather-

Herbquickly joined him.

Barry:“Man, fuck this shit,” and then Barry just left.

Aland Herb stood and stared in amazement =O.

“Didhe really just do that?” Al asked Herb and Herb sighed and said, “yea I guesshe did.”

Indeed,Barry was gone :(.

“Whata fuckin’ toolbag.” –Al.

“YeaI know right?-”

“AlrightI think he’s finally asleep.”

Housecame out of the sliding glass door after putting Randall to sleep and wasappalled to find what he did.

“Where’sHershel!?” he yelled.

“Heleft,” Al answered. “You were here for that-“


“Heleft too.” -Herb.



“Areyou fuckin’ serious!?”

Herb:“Yea dude-“

Al:“Fuckin’ bullshit, right?”

Housesighed and looked around at the situation.

“Man,what a bitch,” he said with a laugh. “Thanks for starting to clean up the blood.”

“Yea,no problem,” Al replied.

“Yea,I think we’re gonna have to pay for this table too,” said House.

Theyall stopped cleaning and looked at the huge and tiny glass shards scattered allover the ground. It was a very nicetable.

“Yeathis is gonna be like, 200 hundred for each of us, easily-“

“Wait,what do you mean ‘each of us’?” Al asked and House made no hesitation.

“Imean we all need to pay for this. And the beer-“

“Dude,I didn’t do anything,” Al said.

 “So? You were here. Plus now you have a greatstory to tell girls, for you, that alone is worth at least two hundred bucks-“

“Thisisn’t a great story to tell girls, all it says is that I have really stupidfriends-“

“Notall of us-“

“Shutup, Herb.”

“Dude,don’t be a dick dawg,” Herb said to Al and then shifted his attention the otherway towards House. “Al’s right though: you’re rich, you can afford it-“

“Fuckyou assholes, that’s not the point-“

“I’llhelp you clean up, but barred none from me vomiting on your nice ass couch inthere am I paying you any money for this crazy escapade.” –Al.

“Dude,you’re helping to pay for this. Get over it,” House said nonchalantly, like itwas known fact and had been for thousands of years.

“NoI ain’t dawg, fuuug daaat sheeeiiiit-“

“Herbis doing his part, right Herb?”

“Man,I got medical bills and student loans- and a dog- and I work at McDonalds, Ican’t afford to give you that kind of money-“

“Youfucking moochers are paying me right now. I don’t care what you say. Igot two dogs- this is fucked up, whatyou’re doing, and you’re not copping out here-“

“Wellwhat about Hershel and Barry?” Al asked.

“I’llget to them later-“

Herb:“Don’t forget Randall-”

Forthis ironic, quick, split second here, the talking stopped and everyone couldhear, very loud and very obviously, Randall’s heavy and chunky vomiting on thecouch from inside. Herb had insistedthat House give him a trashcan when he put him in there, but House, intelligently,didn’t listen.

 “I told you to put a trashcan in there,” Herb mumbled,but House didn’t listen, just closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration.

“Idon’t think you guys realize how expensive this is all going to be.”


Very. Expensive.”


“It’sgonna be very, very… expensive-“


“Like…super duper expensive.”



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Novel / Novella
writing JCorry
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Philly’’s P-Hines{t} /> Hardcore Phant-[o]m$ (at 77,000 words) is a literary, heavily satirical mystery/political commentary focusing on the disparages between poor, inner city youth and law enforcement. After 19-year-old reformed gang member-turned-free-thinker Randall Gähstŭr is ‘mysteriously’ murdered one night in April, 2015, the subsequent investigation leads both his former closest friends and the two very different special agents assigned to investigating the case into a large web of a conspiracy involving everything from corruption in law enforcement to alterations of time/dimension, to unnecessary gang violence (as if there were any other kind) and spiritual dissonance to detailed, characterized critiques of modern political correctness, war, and eventually /> into peaceful revolution.