One Free Man
I know I've done a story before, but that was just making fun of fanfic in general, so here's a real one: part 1
The police cab broke down on Bourbon Street. Maybe a quarter of a mile from Leisure Lane. Still, something kept me from knocking at one of those doors on Bourbon Street and brought me to Leisure Lane. Maybe it was the intuition that you can't trust anyone who chooses to live on a street that's named after a sort of alcohol, or maybe I was just being holistic. Because when I got to the house second from the corner of Bourbon and Leisure but still on Leisure street, I somehow knew that that was the right one.
I swaggered up to the house, my hands still behind me, and turned and knocked on the door, making sure to turn back around so that the owner of said house would not realize that I was a fugitive. A plain but pretty-ish girl opened the door.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Yes, um, Hi."
There was a short, but awkward silence after this.
"--Can I help you?" she questioned.
"Oh, wow, I can tell you're special," I said grinning, "of course you can help me!"
"Uh-- do you make it a habit of knocking on strange people's doors just to say hi? That's a good way for people to think you're crazy."
"so you consider yourself strange, then?
"uh--"
"you said that I knocked on strange people's doors. So you're strange?"
"that's not--"
"That's good, I love strange, anyway, What's your name?"
"My name is Louise, Lisa Louise." she reluctantly consented.
"That's great. Always trust someone who has two names which start the same way. Even more so with 'L's!" I replied, "Do you own this house, or rent, Lisa?"
"That's Lady Louise to you," she remarked, perturbed, "I'm technically a lady, even though this house doesn't say so. And I'm only leasing it."
"Very well, Lady Lisa Louise who leases a love-nest on Leisure lane--"
"oh, your clever," she remarked sarcastically.
"--I'm not finished yet-- I require your assistance!"
"Wait, what? this isn't a love nest," she protested.
"We could make it one," I said, giving her a mockingly amorous look.
"Alright, that's it, sod off!" she said, moving to close the door.
At that point, I heard police bells. I shoved my foot in the door.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
"Shakespeare? what?"
"Alright, I can tell by the marks on the freshly whitewashed lattice covering up the dirty underneath of your front deck that someone in this fine abode was using a hacksaw to cut wood. As much as I might protest this were my situation less dire, I need to borrow the blade."
"and if I say no?"
"I'm just going to keep bothering you."
Her eyes stared daggers that pierced whatever was left of my soul.
"fine," she swore through gritted teeth. She then slammed the door on my foot. It was painful, but I would survive. A few minutes later, the door opened slightly and the hacksaw blade came shooting out at supersonic speeds.
"NOW GO AWAY," I heard Lady Lisa Louise who leases a love-nest on Leisure street's voice ring out.
"VERY WELL," I yelled, "NE'ER SHALL MY SHADOW GRACE THY DOORSTEP!"
I waited outside for about five minutes, while I tried desperately to chew through the shackles while they were behind my back with the hacksaw. Oh the fruitlessness of life...
I knocked again. This time she appeared with bared teeth and a hammer raised above her head.
"Hi, I just wanted you to know that there's a slight oversight in our agreement." I remarked.
"what agreement?"
"Oh, the one where I don't grace your doorstep.... It seems that you don't have a doorstep to grace. It's more like a low-ish wood deck with a lovely bit of pottery and a geranium inside said pottery. Now it's just a formality, but I'm going to require you to get a doorstep."
Oh, did she look mad!
"here's what I need you to do..." just, cut through this chain with the hacksaw blade, I asked turning so she could see the shackles.
"So, I cut the chain, and you shut the hell up and go away?"
"Yes, and no more of this doorstep business. I shall never grace thy front deck--"
"Or my window-sill"
"--Or your window-sill-- again.
With that, she grabbed my coat and pulled me in by it. The door closed.
"She said nothing about her back-door," I thought silently.
The police cab broke down on Bourbon Street. Maybe a quarter of a mile from Leisure Lane. Still, something kept me from knocking at one of those doors on Bourbon Street and brought me to Leisure Lane. Maybe it was the intuition that you can't trust anyone who chooses to live on a street that's named after a sort of alcohol, or maybe I was just being holistic. Because when I got to the house second from the corner of Bourbon and Leisure but still on Leisure street, I somehow knew that that was the right one.
I swaggered up to the house, my hands still behind me, and turned and knocked on the door, making sure to turn back around so that the owner of said house would not realize that I was a fugitive. A plain but pretty-ish girl opened the door.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Yes, um, Hi."
There was a short, but awkward silence after this.
"--Can I help you?" she questioned.
"Oh, wow, I can tell you're special," I said grinning, "of course you can help me!"
"Uh-- do you make it a habit of knocking on strange people's doors just to say hi? That's a good way for people to think you're crazy."
"so you consider yourself strange, then?
"uh--"
"you said that I knocked on strange people's doors. So you're strange?"
"that's not--"
"That's good, I love strange, anyway, What's your name?"
"My name is Louise, Lisa Louise." she reluctantly consented.
"That's great. Always trust someone who has two names which start the same way. Even more so with 'L's!" I replied, "Do you own this house, or rent, Lisa?"
"That's Lady Louise to you," she remarked, perturbed, "I'm technically a lady, even though this house doesn't say so. And I'm only leasing it."
"Very well, Lady Lisa Louise who leases a love-nest on Leisure lane--"
"oh, your clever," she remarked sarcastically.
"--I'm not finished yet-- I require your assistance!"
"Wait, what? this isn't a love nest," she protested.
"We could make it one," I said, giving her a mockingly amorous look.
"Alright, that's it, sod off!" she said, moving to close the door.
At that point, I heard police bells. I shoved my foot in the door.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much."
"Shakespeare? what?"
"Alright, I can tell by the marks on the freshly whitewashed lattice covering up the dirty underneath of your front deck that someone in this fine abode was using a hacksaw to cut wood. As much as I might protest this were my situation less dire, I need to borrow the blade."
"and if I say no?"
"I'm just going to keep bothering you."
Her eyes stared daggers that pierced whatever was left of my soul.
"fine," she swore through gritted teeth. She then slammed the door on my foot. It was painful, but I would survive. A few minutes later, the door opened slightly and the hacksaw blade came shooting out at supersonic speeds.
"NOW GO AWAY," I heard Lady Lisa Louise who leases a love-nest on Leisure street's voice ring out.
"VERY WELL," I yelled, "NE'ER SHALL MY SHADOW GRACE THY DOORSTEP!"
I waited outside for about five minutes, while I tried desperately to chew through the shackles while they were behind my back with the hacksaw. Oh the fruitlessness of life...
I knocked again. This time she appeared with bared teeth and a hammer raised above her head.
"Hi, I just wanted you to know that there's a slight oversight in our agreement." I remarked.
"what agreement?"
"Oh, the one where I don't grace your doorstep.... It seems that you don't have a doorstep to grace. It's more like a low-ish wood deck with a lovely bit of pottery and a geranium inside said pottery. Now it's just a formality, but I'm going to require you to get a doorstep."
Oh, did she look mad!
"here's what I need you to do..." just, cut through this chain with the hacksaw blade, I asked turning so she could see the shackles.
"So, I cut the chain, and you shut the hell up and go away?"
"Yes, and no more of this doorstep business. I shall never grace thy front deck--"
"Or my window-sill"
"--Or your window-sill-- again.
With that, she grabbed my coat and pulled me in by it. The door closed.
"She said nothing about her back-door," I thought silently.
