Saturday, July 16, 2005

   Cream Filling: Origins (Chapter IV)
[Basically, I live in a small city. And we have a Boston Pizza. And that Boston Pizza is basically the only licensed restaurant in the city that stays open well past midnight. That said, it's basically the one restaurant you can always go to and end up running into people from high school . . . whether you want to or not . . .]


"Ah, he's running late again," Cream muttered after checking his watch for the fourth time, "typical bastard . . ."
"Man, you've got some serious issues with that guy, don't ya?" Tim asked from across the table. Cream just leaned back in the booth and rested his head on his propped up hand.
"And you don't?" he asked back.
"Well Fil', that's why I don't live with him. 'Sides, I thought you guys were best friends." As he listened to Tim's words, Cream could only roll his eyes.
"Best friends lately? I'm . . . yeah, I'm not so sure about that one, man . . ."

It was early evening and the sun was still hanging in the sky. The plan was to get some food at Boston Pizza and then figure out what to do after that.
"But seriously," Cream said, "we planned for six, and it's almost six-thirty and we're still the only two guys here." Tim laughed, amused at the other man's discontent.
"Hey, your damn school is like, three blocks away from here. The building that I'm tearing down is about four. Those other guys are quite a bit farther away than that." Cream nodded along, accepting Tim's reasoning as the man continued. "Also, Jonesy-boy is probably picking them all up, so he has to drive back and forth to get them . . ."
"Alright, alright," Cream said as he motioned for no more, "I get it. I'll shut up . . ."

The waitress came down with another two bottles of cheap lager as the two conversed.
"Alright," Tim said after taking a long sip from his beer, "why the hell are you so pissed off at Knight right now?" Cream rolled his eyes again as he thought about all the reasons he could try to bring up. Taking his glass away from his lips, he took a deep breath.
"The guy . . . he's just really rubbing me the wrong way in almost every way. He takes things way too personally, acts like he somehow understands the world better than me . . . friggin' stank up the apartment with that damn stuff you guys love . . ." Tim chuckled upon hearing the last bit.
"Heh, oh yeah," he said, "I remember Knight saying something about blazing up a few days ago . . . eheh . . ."
"Hey, ass," Cream said, looking Tim dead in the eye, "I don't care if you think I'm right or whatever, but you wanted to know why I was pissed off at him, so I told ya."
"Fil', you gotta lighten up. It's not like he walked over your rug and took a sh-"

Tim was interrupted abruptly by an explosion of laughter from the table a level above them. Looking over, the two men saw three others enjoying the tail end of their meal; a near-empty pitcher explained the rest.
"Damn morons . . ." Tim grumbled as he looked over the railing at people he hadn't seen since senior year of high school. "Friggin' Dimitri Thompson and those other two retard friends of his . . ." Cream could only remember them too well. They were part of the popular clique in high school who basically thought little of everyone else; that, he could have forgiven, except they were also rather cruel towards the ones they considered lesser. Tim continued grumbling as he eyed them angrily. "I always wanted to punch that son of a bitch in the teeth ever since that day he threw a basketball at the back of my head . . ."

Cream could think of quite a few reasons to dislike them as well.
"That dickwad Trevor sat behind me in Biology in grade eleven," he said. "He pissed the hell outta me all semester, I swear . . . just because he could . . . . ." Cream trailed off just as they laughed again, disrupting the peace of the restaurant before ordering another pitcher.
"Alright Fil'," Tim said, "I'm tellin' ya now, if those bitches don't shut up, I'm gonna friggin' kill them . . ."

Immediately after the words left his mouth, the three former classmates all erupted once again. Tim could not take it any longer and got out from his seat.
"Hey!" he shouted, "Will you dicks shut the hell up?!"
"Hey, kiss my ass!" Dimitri shouted back. Similar shouts rang out from his friends while Tim soaked it all up. The verbal exchange escalated quickly and before long Tim was cursing all manner of obscenity at the other table. Cream just dropped his head back, wishing everyone would be quiet.

"Excuse me," a server said upon coming over to them, "I have to ask you to calm down and be quiet. You're disturbing the other diners."
"I'm disturbing the others?!" Tim exclaimed, "what about those other dicks over . . ."
"We're handling them, sir," she replied quickly, "but please, you need to sit back down . . ." Tim cursed sharply to himself and started to sit back down. Cream looked up at him and just shook his head; it was far from the first time he had ever seen Tim so up in arms. But, for a moment, it did seem like he was going to let it go for the time being.

Then he saw Dimitri's upright finger.

"Alright you son of a bitch! You wanna go?!" he screamed out as he bolted back out of his seat. Dimitri and his friends were meanwhile laughing and returning similar words. By that point, the assistant manager of the restaurant was out on the floor.
"Alright, sir," he said while looking Tim straight on, "I'm going to have to ask you and your party to leave . . ."
"No! Hell no!" Tim responded. "Those sons of bitches accosted us first, and . . ."
"They're leaving too," the manager said, never looking away from the distraught man. "Please leave now . . ."

With a final curse, Tim kicked the side of the booth and stormed towards the door - Cream followed behind quickly. Once they were both outside in the parking lot, Tim was wound up extremely tight.
"Alright, so what do we do in the meantime?" Cream asked, trying to calm his friend down.
"I'll tell you what the piss we're gonna do!" he answered, "we're gonna stand here and wait for those dicks to come out here so we can beat the piss out of them!" The adrenaline was coursing through Tim's blood, and Cream knew there was no other way around it. Taking a deep breath, he cracked out his knuckles and waited.

Dimitri and his friends came out soon after.
"Well well, here are a couple sad sons of bitches I haven't seen in a while," he said as he other two chuckled from behind him.
"Dimitri, you friggin' asshole," Tim said, his teeth grinding, "I hope you don't have anything else to do tonight . . ."
"What, you dicks wanna fight?" Dimitri asked while stepping forward with his chest out. "If you wanna get hurt that badly, then sure."
"Why, 'cause you have one more guy than us?" Tim questioned back before stepping right up into the opposite man's face. "If that's it, then all we hafta do is put one of you down first . . ."

With those words, Tim shoved first. As Dimitri stepped forward to return the shove, Tim had already thrown a wild punch that bounced off the side of the other man's head. As Dimitri staggered backwards, the other two stepped forward and attacked. Cream finally reacted and charged at Trevor who was on his side, grabbing him by the shirt and throwing him to the side.

Trevor stepped around in the circle he was led and quickly pushed at Cream's chest, knocking him away briefly. The college student grinned as he squared off against the larger man.
"I gotta tell ya man," he said, "I've been wanting to do this for a while . . ." Cream immediately lunged forward, striking Trevor's forearms before quickly darting back away from the counter-punch. As Cream circled around, he glanced back at Tim quickly to see how he was doing. Tim seemed to be trading blows with the other two men at an almost equal standing, and was definitely nowhere near letting up.

Sure of his friend's safety at the moment, Cream looked back at his own opponent, and continued to dart in as often as he could to get a fist in. He was getting several glancing blows onto the other man's face, but most were from too far a distance to truly make much of an impact. Frustrated, especially when he noticed Tim and the other had fallen over each other, Cream took a deeper step in and hooked towards the man's ribs.

The moment his fist connected with Trevor's side, Cream felt something dig deep into his stomach and actually lift him off the ground slightly. Immediately, the slightly panicked Cream jumped back to regain his composure - unfortunately, Trevor had already grabbed his jacked sleeve. With a tug, the larger man pulled Cream back with one hand and threw a hard cross to the cheek with the other. Cream lost his footing and fell to the concrete hard. In his haze, he was just able to see Tim getting pulled off Dimitri by the third man before his vision shook from a hard kick to his stomach. Before the next kick came, Cream rolled away as best he could. The stomach blows had taken their toll, though, and he simply did not have the resources to truly escape. As Trevor's foot skipped across the top of his head, Cream could only curl up as best as he could, covering his head with his hands . . .

The kicks continued for what seemed like an hour, drilling at every angle with every second. From listening to the voices around him, it sounded like Tim was in just as bad of a situation, if not worse . . .

The voices suddenly changed, the battering kicks stopped. When Cream finally had the sense to open his eyes, he saw Jones manhandling Trevor; he lifted him up by the back of the neck and was already holding his body open for Knight to deliver a hard uppercut which sent him to the ground dazed.
"Fil', get your ass up and make sure his ass stays down!" Knight shouted while he, Jones, and Jason ran over to Tim. Cream still couldn't truly get up, but through force of will rolled himself over to Trevor's downed body. With a short surge of energy, Cream pressed his forearm across the other man's throat; with his free hand, he dropped as many fists down onto his old classmate's face until his stamina ran dry.

Within the minute, Jones hoisted Cream off the ground and braced his body up. Dimitri and his other friend were bleeding and motionless on the ground, and Tim was already up on his feet shouting the last of his curses out.
"Fil', you okay?" Knight said to the battered Cream.
"I'll . . . . . I'll live, man," he croaked out, clutching his side. "T-t . . . took you asses long enough to get here . . ."

Before Knight could say anything, the other three were quick to happily laugh at the comment. Knight, upon seeing their reaction, smiled as well.
"Man, you suck at fighting . . ." he said with a grin. Cream grinned back and rolled his eyes.
"Ah shaddup . . ." he said before dropping his head down and taking his eyes away from his roommate's. "Can we just leave here already?"


[It's fun to beat these guys up . . . I'm so mean . . . . . and I gotta say, one of the hardest things about this particular story has to be the swearing. Because young people like to swear, but I don't write "full-blown" swear-words in these stories. And I can't get away with cute replacement-curses because that takes away from it . . . . . ah, the troubles, I say. The troubles . . .]
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