Young Writers Society

The Cafe was a small private deal. Griffinkeeper was eating breakfast with Silent Aviator. Silent Aviator was definitely armed, but what can one expect from a Marine? It was a pleasant morning, the small narrow streets weren't crowded at all.

In fact, they were empty.

"SA, did you notice that-" Grif cut himself off as Silent Aviator brought out his Desert Eagle Pistol.

"Yes, I did. Here, take this," he said as he handed Grif an M9 Beretta.

"Couldn't it just be coincidence?"

"I don't believe in coincidences. Would you get the check? I want to take a look outside," Silent Aviator said as he got up. Grif turned towards the waiter-

...just in time to see him pull out two Uzis! Then things went to hell in a handbasket.

Sub-machine gun fire ripped through the room as Grif dove for cover. Glass shattered as bullets ripped through the windows. What happened next was a blur. Silent Aviator popped up and fired his Desert Eagle three times in rapid succession. His head promptly exploded in a red puff. Grif stood by stupidly as Silent Aviator looted the body. He grabbed the Uzi's and some ammo.

"Who are these guys?" Grif asked.

"Ever hear about the Integral Network?" Silent Aviator asked.

"What's that?"

"It's a terrorist organization bent on world domination. Recently, they've been kidnapping mathmaticians. Are you studying calculus?"

"It's only intermediate calculus!"

"You're lucky I'm here, otherwise you might be heading back to their secret headquarters."

"What secret headquarters?"

"I haven't found it yet," he said smiling. He pulled out a PDA.

"See if you can find out what's on this."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Do it quickly, we're going to have some company..." At that moment, automatic fire flew over their heads. They ducked behind the counter as the bullets impacted on the other side. Silent Aviator fired over the top of the counterwith the Uzis at a devastating rate of 600 rounds per minute. The Terrorists returned fire with more machine gun fire. Grif looked down at the PDA and tried his best to ignore the bullets.

"Hey SA! What's an SMAW?"

"Why do you want to know that, Grif?"

"Integral has bought a whole mess of them!"

"Get out the back door now!" Grif ran as Silent Aviator unloaded the Uzi's. One of the terrorists brought up a large tube on his shoulder. Silent Aviator's eyes went wide as he looked down the barrel of a SMAW anti-tank weapon. The terrorist pulled the trigger, sending a rocket streaking towards the Cafe!

The rocket detonated against the counter, which caused a massive explosion that blew out what was left of the windows.

Little did SA and Grif know, it wasn't SMAW who was doing the kidnapping, but rather SPEW...

Silent Aviator said as he rose up.

Unless you're Jesus, you don't rose up. Okay? Stood up would be a lot more preferable.

Remember: we love descriptions of tangible things.

Good luck. This is weird.

I like the plot also I LOVE weird writing-its the only writing buond to make you famous just as C.S. Lewis has shown.

"I haven't found it yet," he said, before smiling. He pulled out a PDA.

I am freaky for things like this. It would suond better if you got rid of the 'before' or switched it. Anything, right now this line suonds choppy.

I have no right to call anyone else's work choppy concidering my own but still...

wow, this is awsome, GO MARINES!!! and griffinkeeper too..

Nice story Grif, i like the plot, nice pace, very cool, i think you should possibly try to use more yws people (hint hint, lol). GUNS, BULLETS, and EXPLOSIVES all over a nice cup of coffee and croissant in the morning eh?. Really cool, keep it up.

Violent, humorous, and very fun to read.. You are most certaintly entertaining and refreshing, especially after just reading a plethora of angsty poetry.

Two figures slid down into the sewer.

"Grif, where did the terrorists acquire the weapons?"

"I don't know. Let me check the appointments function."

"Do it quickly, it won't take long for Integral to realize it hasn't killed us."

"I got it! 314 Baker Street," Grif pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling Nate. He can fix everything."

"Put it on loud speaker," Silent Aviator said as the phone rang.

"Hello?" Nate's voice came over the loud speaker.

"Nate! We have some members of the Integral terrorist ring after us! Can you send a team to 314 Baker Street?"

"I'll try and see if I can reach the SPEW Commandos."

"I thought they didn't exist."

"They don't. Get off the phone, terrorist may be trying to trace it," Nate said. Grif hung up immediately.

"Let's go. I know the way," Silent Aviator said.

Suddenly the hatch above them started moving!

"GO!" They both started running through the sewers. Integral had caught the scent again. Shouts from the terrorists echoed behind them as Silent Aviator went through a series of passages at an incredible speed.

"How the heck do you know how to navigate in the sewer?" Grif gasped as he tried to keep up. He wasn't in as good a shape as Silent Aviator.

"I once did a report on sewer rats for school. All the other kids thought I was nuts," Silent Aviator smiled.

"I see why," Grif said.

"Well, you wanted to know," Silent Aviator suddenly turned right and started to climb a ladder. Grif waited at the bottom, his Beretta 9mm in his hand. He went as quiet as possible as he listened to the splashing of his pursuers. It was odd that he should be holding a handgun in the town sewers while only ten minutes before he had held a doughnut. "Life's little ironies..." thought Grif. He smirked at the thought, only to hear the splashing get louder. Silent Aviator was still fussing with the sewer lid.

In fact, the sewer lid was currently under a black unmarked van. The light turned green, allowing it to park next to 314 Baker Street.

For some reason, the only thing scarier than loud splashing was no splashing at all. Grif's heart pounded as one of the terrorists halted to turn down the passage they were on. Even Silent Aviator was quiet, having sensed the danger.

The integral man advanced with his gun up. The P-90 submachine gun was among the most fearsome weapons in the world. Able to pierce most modern body armor, the P-90 was able to fire a devasting 900 rounds a minute, 300 more than Silent Aviator's Uzi.

"Grif!" Silent Aviator whisper urgently as he tossed a grenade to him, "Use this!" Grif caught the grenade. He peeked around the corner.

The terrorist didn't hesitate. In a second's time, 16 bullets flew towards Grif's head. Grif pulled his head back just in time. The man's face was obscured by a 5 foot flame. Unknown to both, the methane level in the sewer was actually quite high.

"Grif! NOW!" Silent Aviator said. Grif threw the grenade hard. Silent Aviator watched in horror as Grif tossed the grenade, pin still inside it, around the corner. In a sudden moment, the lid flew up.

"GO!" Silent Aviator yelled. He climbed out of the sewer...

only to find a bunch of machine guns pointed right at his head!

Inside the sewer, the terrorist never saw the grenade until it bounced off his body armor. The grenade fell beside him, harmless. Human reflexes, unlike the grenade, actually worked. In the case of the terrorist, they worked instantly. He depressed the trigger, sending bullets down the chamber.

Grif jumped out of the sewer, at around the same time the tracer bullets ignited the high methane atmosphere of the sewer!

A massive explosion filled the corridor, blowing the terrorist back. The grenade detonated, adding it's own explosion to the blast.

Even before the blast was over, the camouflaged soldiers were already moving Grif and Silent Aviator inside 314 Baker Street.

The P-90 is not an assault rifle, it is a submachine gun...

Rather amusing, my friend.

Wooo hooo!!!

Well, I have to be honest... I start skimming once you get really into the gun stuff, but other than that, this rocks Ari's socks. Now when do I make an appearance?

Hahaha. This is great. I'd either sound freakishly overenthusiastic or really really obnoxious if I tried to describe in-depth what exactly I love about this (and quickly run out of synonyms for "great", besides), so I'll just stick with quoting what is probably my favourite bit of dialogue:

"I'm calling Nate. He can fix everything."

"Put it on loud speaker," Silent Aviator said as the phone rang.

"Hello?" Nate's voice came over the loud speaker.

"Nate! We have some members of the Integral terrorist ring after us! Can you send a team to 314 Baker Street?"

"I'll try and see if I can reach the SPEW Commandos."

"I thought they didn't exist."

"They don't. Get off the phone, terrorist may be trying to trace it," Nate said. Grif hung up immediately.

(Although shouldn't Silent Aviator be the Silent Aviator?)

And I know this is primarily a leisure activity for you, but I'd implode if I didn't critique, so I'm just going to point out that putting all the exciting parts in italics don't really make it more exciting. In fact, they end up detracting from the story — they don't create suspense or a heightened sense of drama or really contribute anything positive.

Like, take this paragraph:

Grif jumped out of the sewer, at around the same time the tracer bullets ignited the high methane atmosphere of the sewer!

The italics (as we've established) don't help. What does? It depends on what you feel works best — I'd suggest playing around with some different techniques of creating drama and seeing what works best for you. Personally, I think shorter, more concise sentences might work. Instead of having one long sentence overburdened with unnecessary information about the tracer bullets and the high methane atmosphere, pare it down to the basics.

So something like:

Inside the sewer, the terrorist never saw the grenade until it bounced off his body armor. The grenade fell beside him, harmless. Human reflexes, unlike the grenade, actually worked. In the case of the terrorist, they worked instantly. He depressed the trigger, sending bullets down the chamber.

Grif jumped out.

The sewer exploded.

Obviously, not quite like that, if you want to include the bit about the terrorist being thrown back by the blast, etc. And this method of storytelling may not even work for you. Like I said before, play around with the dramatic and see what works for you. Just know that the italics don't really work.

(...unless, of course, that was intention, in which case — ignore everything I just said.)

This is lovely and quirky. It'll be lots of fun to see where this goes.

And shouldn't Grif be Griffinkeeper?

No, I'm taking certain liberties.

And yes, I can see how the italics may not be working.

8 P-90's concentrated on Silent Aviator and Grif. The integral symbols left no doubt as to who had them. They had been disarmed immediately. Two of the integral members parted, allowing a more senior member of integral to come in.

"A valient effort, both of you. Unfortunately for you, you have walked right into an Integral safe house," the man said. His French accent made Grif flinch.

"It looked more like a bakery to me," Silent Aviator said.

"Ah yes, a convienent cover. Even more convienent since we have a very hot oven. Perfect for eliminating witnesses." Grif gulped.

"Oh don't be scared little man. We're not going to incinerate you, we'll just put you to work on the hardest math problem ever created!" This scared Grif more.

Before anything more could happen, a ring came from the Integral man's cell phone.

"Yes, what is it?" His eyes turned toward his prisioners, "Oh really? No, don't do anything until they move." He closed the cell phone.

"I think you'll be interested in what's going on downstairs." He motioned to another man, who brought a TV. It was delivering security feed...

In ten years of pie making, no baker had ever seen four persons simultaneously burst into song. They were singing loudly.

"By the Sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea,
You and me, you and me, Oh! how happy we'll be.
When each wave comes a-rolling in, we won't duck or swim,
And we'll float and fool around the water.
Over and under and then up for air,
Pa is rich, Ma is rich, so now what do we care?
I love to be beside your side, beside the sea,
beside the seaside, by the beautiful sea."

Outside the window, Writersdomain had finished the plastic explosive coating around the window. She stuck a detonater in it and started to retreat slowly.

Grif watched as the quartet bought a pie and left.

"As I was saying-" the Integral man was interrupted by a large explosion.

Down in the bakery, pandemonium rained. The glass had flown inward, sending fragments towards the counter. Commandos swung across the street into the hole created by the explosion! The commandos quickly eliminated the bakers on the first level. A terrorist jumped down the stairs, only to get blown apart as he was hit by thirty bullets at close range.

Upstairs, the Integral men now were nervous. A man fell as the crack of a sniper rifle came from across the street. The Integral members now aimed at the door. In an instant, the door exploded, followed by several smoke grenades. Smoke filled the room as the Integral men coughed.

In reality, it wasn't smoke, but a chemical that, when combined with air, became a powerful sleeping gas. Within seconds, the entire room was asleep.

YES! SWEET!

The quartet's my favourite. Though I can't quite pinpoint why...

I have to agree with Ari on that point.

And SPEW Commandos, eh? I like that.

the hardest math problem ever, and no time limit? I give you ten mintues. Tops

Oh, and also — I have a sneaking suspicion as to who the Supreme Evil Overlord Person will be...

Hee hee. This is lovely. Singing quartet indeed.

Oh man - this is the most entertaining bit I've read here, and the most amusing! Wonderfully absurdist...but I'm not going to try to analyse. Analysation - the bane of humankind.

Only vaguely constructive comment would be that in the last paragraph(s) there, you've repeated now two, three times. Probably not necassary.