Tails of Low I.Q. (Flop Fiction)

by Karan Virk

  The End!

  Karan’s Notes

  *) Hazmat workers, also known as decontamination specialists, are in the business of handling and disposing of the world's most dangerous substances. They get called in when something in the environment is so dangerous it simply can't be dealt with normal forces. The hazmat crew then physically removes said danger and decontaminates the area.

  *) Charpoy (Commonly known as ‘Manjaa’) is a woven bed consisting of a wooden frame bordering a set of knotted ropes. Traditionally the user would lie directly on top of the ropes without an intervening mattress.

 

  6) “Yakuza”

  Location: Tokyo, Japan.

  In the midst of, Sanja Matsuri festival it was hard to hear anything else. Thousands of Japanese groups carrying the shrine through the streets, shouting, showing off their culture. Nothing else could be heard. It, seemed like the whole Japan was walking on the streets.

  But, still the landing of planes signalled the comeback of several Japanese citizens. In, all these faces there were several new faces walking, trying to blend in. Some were just tourists. While, others did not know what they were going into.

  The leather shoes had just crossed the, Airport gate. The suit symbolised that the person was of an upper status. His eyes constantly kept on looking at the, Rolex watch stuck on his hand.

  “Taxi!” he screamed.

  Between all the noises, it didn't look like that any taxi was going to be coming.

  The man had realised that, and started to walk his way through the crowd. But, this wasn't like the normal crowd. It was different. There were people with full body tattoos.

  The leather shoes had to stop. There was something poking the coat.

  “Move to the side!”

  “Look if you want money......”

  “Michael. Do, as we tell you.”

  How do they know his name? Michael's eyes started to look around in fear. It didn't take a minute until; Michael's face was covered with a chloroform invested cloth. His eyes closed and mind succumbed into darkness.

  “Wake him up!”

  “Yes, Wakagashira.”

  Cold droplets of water hit Michael's face. He started to gain conscience.

  Michael - Where.....Where am I?

  Wakagashira - Where?...That is not the question you should be asking...Why?...That is.

  Michael - You don't know what I can...

  Wakagashira - You can't do anything, Mr. Michael Shank. I am the one holding the gun right now. Whatever, I say goes. There are 45 men in this room right now. All, capable of filling your body with countless bullets, that your blood will have to find its way out.

  Michael - Listen, you son of a....

  Wakagashira's hand moved and a cold blade came on Michael's neck.

  Wakagashira - Talk with respect to the first lieutenant. Or, I will cut your body, and hang it on the streets.

  Fear started to take over, Michael's mind. This was a serious situation.

  “Wakagashira, Oyabun wants to see you.”

  Wakagashira - Guard him!

  Michael's eyes started to look around. He saw, some men getting tattooed. Guns being taken away. And, a group of young girls chained. The tears of young girls started to rip, Michael's heart. But, he himself was helpless.

  “Oyabun is here!”

  A voice alarmed him and, Michael's attention went towards the stairs where a black suited man followed by Wakagashira and two other men were stepping down.

  Oyabun - Welcome, Mr. Shank. Any difficulty finding the headquarters of Yamaguchi - gumi.

  Michael's mouth did not move but his eyes kept looking at the cigar being smoked by the Oyabun.

  Oyabun - Your fragile mind must be full of many questions. And, you also must be shocked to see, so many Japanese speaking, 'English'. We have to learn it, Mr. Shank. It is all done for business....Oh, yes...Our, business. Who are we? What do we do? We are a clan of Yakuza. The name of our family is Yamaguchi – gumi*. And, we do everything. Right, now I am going to make you an offer. Sign, this contract and you will be free. Free to smell the fresh air and see the daylight of your life again. And, if you don't, I will put your life in such a darkness that you will wish you were given an easy death.

  Before, Michael could say something the silence was broken by the dogs, held by two men.

  Oyabun - My dogs are hungry, Mr. Shank.

  The, heart inside Michael’s suit seemed it was going to jump out. If, Michael didn't speak now, he would never be able to speak again.

  Michael – What?...What Contract?

  Oyabun - You are here to settle the deal between your company and the ‘Yamashiro Company’. You are the head of the board of stockholders. Now, your job is to right now sign this contract, making us the owner of your stocks. Hurry, Mr. Shank, your sweat is ruining your perfect suit...And, my dogs are becoming impatient.

  Michael's eyes looked at the contract and then at the Oyabun. His, cigar was almost over. The ashes falling on the table could have had been, Michael's body falling apart piece by piece.

  His, hand moved and the Contract paper got filled with red ink.

  Oyabun - Well, done Mr. Shank. Let's settle this deal with a glass of sake. Ane-San.

  A woman was bringing two glasses.

  Oyabun - This is my wife. Now, drink the sake, Mr. Shank.

  Michael's trembling hands picked up the glass.

  Oyabun - It's not poison, Mr. Shank. Take a sip. Good for your heart.

  Michael somehow gulped a sip down.

  Oyabun - Now, we switch glasses.

  Ane-San took Oyabun's glass and started to walk towards Michael. Michael's eyes rolled towards the knife still sitting on the table after his first encounter with Wakagashira. Michael's fear started to turn into hope. He grabbed the knife and got hold of Ane-San. Knife resting on her throat. His, hands were still shaking. Heartbeat getting faster. Nerves ready to pop out of the brain.

  Michael - Don't....Don't...Move!

  Each and every man in that room was ready to make a move, but Oyabun's hand had stopped them.

  Oyabun - I will give you a chance, Mr. Shank. Get out of here, until I finish my cigar and if you can't.......Ha Ha Ha Ha!

  Michael - I have your wife as a hostage, and you are laughing at me.

  Before, Michael could move back one more step a sword came onto his back.

  “Drop the knife, or my sword bathes in blood today!”

  This, man was serious. Michael would not be able to escape alive. Knife hit the floor. Ane-San moved away from, Michael.

  Oyabun - Ah...My second lieutenant. You shall be rewarded.

  Shateigashira - Your service is my reward, sir.

  Oyabun - And for you, Mr. Shank..........Yubitsume*!

  Several, men held Michael while Wakagashira got ready.

  Oyabun - I know you will not cut your own finger.

  Wakagashira walked towards, Michael.

  Wakagashira - Ready?

  The sword came down and the room filled with shouts of pain. Michael's little finger was lying on the ground with blood around it. Blood was still dripping from, Michael's hand.

  Oyabun - Normally, I would stop after this, Mr. Shank. I have a heart too. But, you have touched my wife. This crime has no punishment. Only, freedom is your punishment.

  Oyabun gave a signal and the men got ready. Several, guns aimed at Michael.

  Michael - No....Please....Don't.

  Oyabun - There is no wrong place or a wrong time. There are just wrong people. And, you are one of them. You must be set free.

  Cigar hit the ground and several bullets found a way into, Michael's body. His suit's colour changed into red.

  Sanja Matsuri was over. There was a crowd forming around a wall. But, this time they were staring at a body. Body of Michael Shank. And, written in blood on the wall was a message.........

  “Yakuza”

  The End!

  Karan’s Notes

  *) Yaku
za is the name given to organized criminal gangs from Japan. The Yakuza is not a single organization but rather a collection of separate gangs or clans akin to the American Mafia. These violent criminals have left their fingerprints on many aspects of Japanese life, from lowly gambling and prostitution rackets to the halls of high-level political and financial power.

  *) Yamaguchi- gumi is the biggest yakuza family, accounting for 50% of all yakuza in Japan, with more than 55,000 members divided into 850 clans.

  *) Oyabun acts as a leader of the clan, with men under him given the title of ‘Kobun’. Wakagashira and Shateigashira hold the ranks of First & Second Lieutenants respectively.

  *) Yubitsme is a traditional punishment for failure within a Yakuza clan resulting in the amputation of a part of the little finger. When the gangster has displeased his boss, he is merely given a knife and a bandage. He must then chop off the top joint of his fourth finger and present it to the boss.

  7) Tears of a Clown (Part 1)

  “Here's one more, I was attending a conference and somebody brings up Bush's name. I stand up, throw my shoes to the side and scream, ‘Weapon of mass destruction destroyed the twins!’....”

  There were barely any spectators present in the auditorium. The once full, ‘Clown Princes’ Comedy House which gave world countless comedians was now witnessing empty seats. It seemed like they were going to shut down any day. Probably, they were just waiting for the right hour. Most of the workers had already quit their jobs and the only person apart from janitor who seemed to be doing any work was the, Stand - Up Comedian, Subodh ‘Joker’ Gupta.

  Subodh – “Get it! I am pointing at the conspiracy involving Bush's name thrown in the 9/11 attacks...This is Black Comedy at its best.”

  Trilok – “I think, I've heard that one before.”

  Subodh – “Come on Tri...I am performing here.”

  Trilok – “The House is empty Joker Boy! The only claps you are going to get are from me or the janitors.”

  Subodh – “Never thought that I would be the last person to hear the sound of silence in this place.”

  Trilok – “What sound?....What silence?....What are you talking about here?....The, only sound I ever heard in this place was maniacal laughter from every corner. Heck, the people laughed so loud that I had to put the material they use in garage doors in my windows. That sound and the sound of my pocket getting full of money. Look, at my pockets now. What do you see?...What do you hear?...They are empty, full of air. The windows are broken. Those seats are getting covered with dirt....Even, the custodians were asking for better cleaning sprays. And, what should I pay them? With your mindless humour!...Huh, Humour me Joker Boy. This place has fallen apart and I want one last laugh. I will get that laugh when you walk out of that door. The door is not hard to find. Says, EXIT...And, it is capitalised.”

  Subodh – “I have been performing on this stage for months, Tri. I filled the seats with crowd. Suddenly, the laughter faded away. I kept standing on the empty stage with the curtain closing on me. After, the curtain had closed all I could hear was the janitor's broom, sweeping on the floor, back and forth. The toughest thing in the world is to crack a joke and expect people to laugh. Because, if they don't the joke is on you.”

  Trilok – “The joke has hit you! You are fired. Get out and never show me your face again because if you do your body will be lying on the floor and I will place it on the stage. Now, that will get you enough laughs and claps.”

  The curtain had closed. Subodh packed his stuff and came back to his apartment.

  “Subodh, where have you been? You are overdue!”

  Subodh – “Bijar, I am currently facing a financial crisis. I promise....”

  Bijar – “No promises, man. I have been hearing about this crisis for 8 months. You either pay now or leave my apartment.”

  Subodh packed his stuff and started walking down the road. Clouds shouted and rain started to pour.

  Subodh – “Oh, Thank You God! All I needed was pathetic fallacy. At least, I still have Kala.”

  The rain started to increase. The clouds had blocked moon's light. But, Subodh was still carrying a smile. He knocked on Kala’s door.

  Kala – “Our relationship is over! The ice broke a long time ago. And, what have you done for me? Forget about gifts, I have been paying your debt for like forever. And, don't try to call me or I will stab your heart with an ice pick. Go and get a life.”

  The door slammed on Subodh's face.

  Subodh – “You shouldn't say those things Kala....I am a Pisces...And we are really sensitive.”

  Inside, his mind his thoughts were becoming more violent.

  “I will kill you Kala! I feel like King Lear right now. And, I feel hungry....”

  Subodh had found refuge with some beggars in an alley.

  “Hey, buddy...Do you have a lighter?”

  Subodh – “Yes, I also have a broken heart and an empty stomach. Here!”

  Smoke from the cigarette was hard to see in the darkness.

  “Are you a clown?”

  Subodh – “Since the day I was born.”

  “Yo Rupesh, Naresh, we got Hobo the Clown over here. Gather up.”

  The beggars gathered around Subodh, waiting for his next move, waiting to chuckle up. It seemed like the clown was having a bad day. He didn’t talk.

  Rupesh – “Is he supposed to be, ‘Mona Lisa’?”

  Naresh – “Where's the red nose?”

  Hitesh – “Let's give him one!”

  For a moment there, Subodh didn't know what hit him. His eyes had already closed. Droplets of blood from his face were mixing with the puddles in the alley. And, there was his body lying in the alley.

  .........Continued!

  8) Tears of a Clown (Part 2)

  ....After falling down, Subodh’s mind went into a spiral. He was speaking inside his head. He was looking at the world and analyzing it through his conscious.

  “Bloodstains on my shirt are the least of my worries. My starved stomach is telling a whole different tale right now. Here, I stand in the street getting full of people. Where, no one cares about no one. They all walk. Some stare at me, disgusted by what I look like. Look, inside the deepest corners of your heart and you will find a cage with a monster locked inside. Tame that monster because once it becomes unleashed places will look shrunk enough to hide. If, I don't find food soon I will die and that monster will be unleashed. That worries me.”

  Subodh's hands were digging through the trash cans. His eyes wondering through the garbage for food. Mouth was starting to water. Brain was drawing images for food in the mind. The temptation was making everything worse. He picked up the garbage bin and threw it with full force towards the ground. The anger inside started to come out with the stomping on the piece of metal.

  “I keep talking to myself. Thinking that this would calm my hunger. All, my eyes see are the people constantly chewing on food. They are everywhere. Like, zombies....Walking and chewing....Get hold of yourself boy....Insanity is starting to take control of me...I need food...”

  Sun was at its highest. Temperature was increasing. And, there stood Subodh holding a sign that read, ‘WILL GET BEATEN FOR FOOD!!’. Things, hunger can make a person do.

  Subodh – “Sahib, would you like to beat me up. I am a human punching bag. Take your anger out on me. Make me taste my own blood. If you buy a punching bag, it will cost you a lot. But, you will never get the feeling of a real punching bag.”

  “How much?”

  A smile started to merge on his face. The man took of his coat. And, pain started to come in. After getting beaten up, he went to a coffee shop.

  Subodh – “This is the best coffee I have ever had and I have had some good ones. Not a bad job really. Just have to remember to faint after 5 minutes or I will break some bones. Surgery is expensive.”

  Subodh’s attention got taken by the T.V. where a reporter was reporting breaking news.

  Report
er (On T.V.) – “It's has just been reported that the professional comedian, ‘Hit – Mo’ has been found dead in his mansion.....”

  Subodh – “Turn Up...Turn the volume up!”

  Reporter – “Our team is live on the scene. Apparently the famous comedian hanged himself. Police are not letting anyone inside. The only information we were able to get is that he wrote a quote on his walls saying, “Comedy Is Dead”. We will keep you informed as we gain further information.”

  Subodh’s mind again started speaking to him.

  “A comedian lost his laugh today. These people will talk for a while and shut up.....His death will bring thousands of fans and supporters on his funeral. Roads will fill up the cemetery. Coffin will be brought. He will be buried. Tears will be shed. Speeches will be made. And, he will become a legend. What happens when I leave? Nobody cares...Apart from a few people nobody knows me and they don't try to know me. They don't look beyond the mask that I wear. They never gave me the recognition. I never got what I deserved. Even after his death he will be standing out in the cemetery. But, I am like a chameleon. You expect me to blend in. Well, I simply can't. I don't blend with people with thousand masks. The fame that I should always walk with, despises me.......All what you have done is simply not enough. They want more. More till you burst like a bubble. The clown antiques, the reused jokes, the stereotypical humour, is outdated. You give them dialogues. They want themes. Well, I am putting an end to this. I respect the love my fans have given me. So, when I walk out there the curtain is going to remain open. It is going to close when the smirk is gone from my face. And you know what my monster has come out of its cage..............”