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The White Man Episode VII - The Bang Gang

The White Man Episode VII - The Bang Gang

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Published by Benjamin F. Kaye
Episode VII
Episode VII

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Published by: Benjamin F. Kaye on Mar 09, 2014
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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03/09/2014

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1
 
The Bang Gang
The boxes went right into the house across the street, moving with military precision. I never really knew my neighbor; I had only seen him around once in a while. He was an older gent, maybe in his early fifties, with a slow shuffle and thinning hair. He would wave to me when he was out mowing his lawn; I always waved back. The
For Sale
 sign on his front lawn wasn
t even up for two weeks
 –
 it was so quick it was strange. My Saturday morning routine was interrupted by a knock on my door. I opened it and a smiling young lady was standing before me. She had long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a lithe build. She couldn
t have been more than five feet four inches tall. She was dressed in an old football jersey and blue jeans. She thrust her hand forward.
Hi! I
m Jess. I
m your new neighbor across the street.
 
Welcome to the neighborhood.
 I shook her hand.
I
m Mitch.
 
Uhhmmm
..I hate to start things off this way, but do you have any nails? I
m hanging some pictures
 –
 well I mean I want to hang some pictures
 –
 but I don
t have any nails.
 
Oh, sure. C
mon in.
 Oopps. The artifact was sitting on the coffee table.
Oh my God. This place really is a mess.
 I went around picking up a few newspapers here and there. I discreetly scooped up the alien disc while tidying up.
I
m really not a mooch, you know. It
s just that this move has got me off balance.
 
Sounds like a big change.
 
Very big. I have a new job and I
m living in a new town, so there
s a lot to get used to.
 She walked up to one of my posters hanging in the living room.
Is this an Alistair Grighton?
 The poster displayed a picture of a 19
th
 Century gentleman outside a movie theater. The golden ticket he held in his left hand contrasted sharply against the dark city in the background. A white dove was perched on a ledge just above him.
You know your 1930s pop art, I see. It
s a second edition re-print that I picked up at an antique fair.
 I handed her a box of nails.
 
2
 
Thanks! See you around Mitch.
 With that, she glided out the front door and across the street. The Sunday patrol was quiet, very quiet indeed. For the past several weekends I had wandered around The Grunge without once stopping a crime. After five hours, I decided to call it quits. I headed back to the car, warmed by the summer sun; it was my only consolation. There had been several robberies and even a shooting in the past week, but it all happened while I was at work. The bad guys were outsmarting me and they were pushing me to a crossroads. At least my car was in one piece. I drove home and the open highway was tempting me, tempting me to just take a break. Over the past several weeks I had spent too much time fighting; fighting job goals, fighting crime, fighting time. I was so busy I didn
t even recognize my life anymore. I knew I shouldn
t have done it, but I did it anyways. I checked the
White Man
 fan page that my sister helped me set up.
Welfare Hero absent again
.even the cops are better than this?! C
mon guys! I
ve got a 9 to 5 job! I got bills too.
 I sighed and closed my laptop. Monday morning I came in to work and got started. I looked at my desk and organized stuff while my computer powered up. The calendar was full of reminders and to-do
s and meetings and on and on. Somewhere, on a dirty street, a robbery was taking place; or maybe bullets were flying.
Mitch, Mr. Johnson called.
 Jamie announced in her usual, perky way.
I
m only one person!
 
Hey, what
s the matter?
 Her voice softened.
Is your Uncle Barry OK?
 
Yeah, he
s fine. I
m sorry to snap at you. I
ll call him right away.
 So where did I spend my lunch hour? Yep, you got it
 –
 in the heart of The Grunge. I was sitting in a cheap diner eating a fattening, greasy lunch, when three men walked in. They were wearing what looked like police riot gear, but their black uniforms had white metal rods on the arms and legs. Then the shotguns came out.
Everyone down! Down on the ground!
 One of them shouted. In all of the chaos, I fumbled with the disc. It clattered to the floor.
You! Get down!
 One of the masked men shoved me on the floor. I looked up and saw another one rip the cash register off the counter as if it weighed nothing more than a teddy bear. His friend lifted up a large gentleman with both hands and threw him over a table.
 
3
 I could hear sirens coming fast. Before anyone knew it, the police had arrived. I had to admit it, they had beaten me to the punch
 –
 again. But instead of taking hostages, the three armed men simply walked out the front door. The bullets slowed them down a bit, but no serious damage was done. They returned fire and the police ducked for cover. They sped off in a black sedan. After a few frantic moments, I found the disc and got my game on. I was in luck; the suit was on and I felt faster than ever. I was running down the streets at over 200 miles an hour. The only problem I had was that I didn
t see where they were going. I spent the next forty five minutes zipping around The Grunge, but they had gotten away. My dad raised me to be responsible; my mom taught me to always give my best. I know I had  just tried to save innocent lives as a
super hero
, but I felt a gnawing, agonizing guilt when I pulled in to the parking lot. I trotted through the front door and down the hall. There was no use sneaking in to the meeting
 –
 I was just going to have to bite the bullet.
So, the plan is to expand advertising-
 Jamie gave me a glare. She was kind - but no bones about it
 –
 the company always came first. I walked up to her after the meeting.
I went out for lunch and got a flat tire. Sorry.
 
You can pick up an outline of the meeting from Sue. Mitch,
 she looked me in the eye,
I know that life has its ups and downs, but we need you here. Reliability and dependability are what Gruman and North are all about.
 Over the next three weeks, I hunted for
The Bang Gang
 as the news stations were calling them. I looked on the weekends, spent my lunch hours (and sometimes more) scouring the Grunge, and even sometimes came in to work late. The phone rang.
Mr. Johnson? I
m so sorry I haven
t returned your calls lately; things have been very hectic around here. Well, wait, just a moment
.no
.we really do value your business. You
ll receive a better deal here. No really-
 I hung my head and just waited.
Mitchell, can I have a word with you please?
 Jamie was standing in the door of her posh office. I sighed.
Yes.
 Jamie sat down behind her large, fancy desk and invited me to sit.
Mitch, your numbers are crashing and your work is taking a nosedive. I just don
t know why. Mitch, you
re a great guy, you really are.
 There was a long uncomfortable pause as her eyes darted to her tropical island calendar; she was probably wishing she was there right now.
But you
re dragging down the whole office. If your numbers are down, it means
my 
 numbers are down. Look, I don
t want to do this, but if I don
t my boss will. Mitchell I
m putting you on probation.
 

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