Or: Relaxation Therapy Chapter 6Or: Relaxation Therapy Chapter 6 by ~gringlor
I mix in with a crowd of Bastards where almost half have red masks like mine. Nite Owl II'll never find me now. He knows everyone'll say they're the real Mr. Red. I just keep breaking off with the smaller groups again and again until it's just me left.
I hate it when I have to hide. Not because I'm close to getting caught, but because of the kinds of kids that wear the masks. They talk about how 'it's so cool,' how 'everyone's looking at us!' and 'what if Team Moore thinks one of us is Mr. Red? Maybe it'll turn into something huge and we'll all be on the news!!!!' These college kids pay thousands of dollars to come here and seem so ready to throw it all out the window, all for their 15 minutes of fame.
I'm walking by myself on an empty street now, performing little acts of mischief to keep myself calm. Light matches and drop them into mailboxes, pull all the trash out of the trashcans and throw it everywhere. You know, that kind of shit. There's some half-assed theory about why I do th
Or: Relaxation Therapy Chapter 5Or: Relaxation Therapy Chapter 5 by ~gringlor
Complete. That is the only way to describe how I feel right now. Me, walking down the streets of Bridgemount at night, with a backpack full of goodies and a metal bat dragging on the ground. And as I walk, I see the Red Bastards walk past me. Red Bastards is name that the Riot Squad gave to the college kids who turned my costume into a fashion accessory. Blue mask with frowny face. Yellow mask with angry face. Yellow mask with smiley face. Green mask with blank stare. Red mask with angry face. Enough combos that you could wear a different mask every day for months. And let's not forget the different kinds of kiddy backpacks they wear.
Question 3: Why do people dress up as Mr. Red?
In the eyes of many of the people in Bridgemount, Mr. Red is seen as a hero. Somebody that they can all look up to and take inspiration from. That is why many are disgusted that he is wanted by the police and is considered a criminal. This is very synonymous to the famous scene from Stanley Kubrick's Spar
Or Relaxation Therapy Chapter 4Or Relaxation Therapy Chapter 4 by ~gringlor
I keep walking for a few blocks. I've hid all my gear in a special place that no one will find. The downside's that it's a pain in the ass to walk so far to get it. Major time killer. The upside of this is I get a grasp of what's going on in town tonight. It looks like it does when I usually have my sessions. The streets are alive with music by The Fratellis, Locksley and Blink-182, Team Moore is patrolling the streets, and an intersection is being cleared for the Red Devil's charm to summon Mr. Red. It's another one of Bridgemount's attractions. They make a huge pentagram, with a smiley face in the middle, out of some black powder while chanting under their breaths. Once they light it it all turns into red smoke. Then the leader goes on with some kind of spell or chant or some bullsit. I wouldn't know, I'm always laughing to hard to hear what he says. I snuck into the circle on time. I waited in the sewer until the smoke began to form. I moved fast and crawled through the m
Or: Relaxation Therapy Chapter 3Or: Relaxation Therapy Chapter 3 by ~gringlor
During my therapy sessions, I prefer to walk to town. I get to enjoy the cool night breeze, get some exercise before I begin the night, and no one dressed as Mr. Red is allowed on public transportation. You can thank those bastards in The Riot Squad.
Remember that bullshit theory that said that I wanted to spread the idea that anger leads to happiness? Well, The Riot Squad are the dumbfucks that believed it and took it that one step too far. One second they're beating you to death with a piece of rusty pipe, most likely getting off to it, but once the tables turn, they beg to be beaten, so they can 'cleanse' the other guy. To make it even worse they do it all to feel good music. Like crossing anarchists with masochists.
So what did they do? Well, what do you think happens when you have ten lunatics, dressed in tight black leather and wearing yellow smiley masks that came straight out of a fucking horror comic, on a crowded bus filled with children, the elderly, and one woman who as fou