‘Twister’ meets ‘The Teleporter’: the ultimate ‘what if’ crossover scenario…

Just what would happen if a man called ‘Twister’ met ‘The Teleporter’? This is a crossover nobody asked for, but you’re getting it anyway because writer Lee Hall needed content and because it’s nearly Christmas he should have probably thought of something special to give back to his handful of loyal, well cultured, possibly well endowed readers, yes this is a comedy, but aren’t they all…  sit back and enjoy what is a meeting of literary juggernauts of the ‘lhallverse’….

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(Imagine a bar in low light, there aren’t many people, in fact there are only two. One is half perched at a stool in a long rain coat. His hair is mid length and unkempt. There’s stubble on his face and scars on both hands; one of which is cradling a tumbler of whisky. His name is Twister and he looks in no particular direction when the other guy approaches, The Teleporter; dressed in a turquoise hood and purple skinny jeans, a purple bandanna covers his face along with shades.)

The Teleporter: Hey cowboy, is this seat taken?

Twister: I don’t see any other folks around to claim it.

The Teleporter: Rugged and brooding, how original.

Twister: Excuse me? (he looks to the Teleporter with a raised eyebrow) 

The Teleporter: Let me guess your genre. Wait a second I got this…

Twister: What are you possibly talking about? and what’s  the deal with the outfit? That denim looks a tad feminine.

The Teleporter: Yep, and gender is more than just a word these days but let’s focus on you cowboy. You got those scars, that unshaven look and the whole frown towards life going on. Let’s not mention the whisky your nursing, I’m gonna say horror, or even thriller.

Twister: Still not with ya pal. But looking at those colors and the tight denim I’m gonna say your some kind of fa…

The Teleporter: Whoah! ease back class of 2002, you can’t just go throwing out that kind of language these days, in fact you probably shouldn’t back in ’02 either.

Twister: ’91

The Teleporter: Who in the what now?

Twister:  Class of ’91. Never graduated though, that’s a long story.

The Teleporter: Whatever you say gramps, but you can’t go around throwing out accusations and stuff about what people wear these days.

Twister: These days? Where do you think we are?

The Teleporter: Hoping to god this isn’t my sequel. But you seriously don’t understand this gig?

Twister: It sounds like English but I’m not following. What’s your deal? Maybe should start with names.

The Teleporter: They call me the Teleporter. My deal, is mainly booze and sometimes yoga. Perhaps an occasional blog post.

Twister: They call me Twister.

The Teleporter: Well Twister, how many books did you get?

Twister: Books?

The Teleporter: Cut the crap. The fourth wall is literally right there dude.

Twister: Three..

The Teleporter: Jesus, three books, seriously… (exasperated)

Twister: Well two actually, one was a sequel/prequel and the other is kind of a cameo deal.

The Teleporter: Cameos and sequels? What are you Clark Thorn in disguise?  What the skittles man? I’m got one that’s not even full length.

Twister: Well I aint one for telling bedtime stories… (he finishes the whisky) 

The Teleporter: Is that supposed to be your catchphrase? (he reaches over the bar and grabs a bottle of beer) 

Twister: Says the guy dressed like a damn clown. So what does the mighty ‘Teleporter’ do then apart from kill the mood with sarcasm and empty humor? (he grabs the beer from the teleporter)

The Teleporter: That burns. I take down the assholes in this world who abuse their power. (he grabs another bottle)

Twister: Sounds like a noble cause. Even with the shitty humor attempts.

The Teleporter: Well this is a world where nothing is original. And so what does ‘Twister’ do with his time? and don’t say it’s complicated or it’s a long story, this isn’t a shitty facebook relationship status update. Let me guess, you’re a vegan blogger?

Twister: I survive.

The Teleporter: Deep and reflective. That’s a great title for a porn flick. But it doesn’t give much away, even after three books that’s all your giving me?

Twister: Says the guy hiding under a hood…

The Teleporter: So what does Twister stand for?

Twister: Real name’s Randy.  I don’t stand for much other than my own survival. The line of work I’m in, we’ll call it extermination. (he pulls out a curved sabre type blade and places it heavily on the bar)

The Teleporter: That’s some impressive hardware. What are we exterminating?

Twister: Various kinds of vermin. Is the ‘Teleporter’ just a solo deal or is there some kind of sidekick?

The Teleporter: You’re gonna have to read my story to find out… (pulls out a thin book and slaps it down on the bar) What about you stretch? are you running around exterminating alone or is there some kind of crew you run with?

Twister: I’ve ran with my fare share back in the day but the line of work I’m in, let’s just say nobody sticks around for long.

The Teleporter: Again with the deep mystery, it’s like you don’t want to give too much away to entice reader folks to pick up your tales.

Twister: Isn’t that why we are here? (looks to camera with the Teleporter) 

The Teleporter: There’s the fourth wall break I was waiting for, feels good right?

Twister: Whatever you say pal… (knocks back the beer and gets up) Well, the road is calling me (grabs sabre)

The Teleporter: We should do this again and then maybe I’ll get the sequel I deserve.

Twister: Hang in there, the reviews of this ain’t bad (looks to the front cover of the Teleporter’s book). 

The Teleporter: Thanks for the inspiration.

Twister: Is that a sarcastic thank you or…

The Teleporter: I don’t know man, I mean, now your leaving but taking your time and what do we do, shake hands, man hug, or even nod defiantly.

Twister: You’re the one who made this awkward. I’m goin now.

The Teleporter: Well, I hate goodbyes.

Twister: We literally just met.

The Teleporter: But I feel like we genuinely bonded.

Twister: We didn’t. I’m gone.

The Teleporter: I can still see you…

You can catch Twister in Open Evening and Cemetery House, of course they are also linked and in the same universe as Darke Blood!

The Teleporter is out now! Rock and roll man!

Happy Holidays folks!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weekly Ramble #8

I’m writing a screenplay. It’s a world of rules and words I have yet to explore. A venture in which I inevitably wanted to pursue, maybe there is someone out there who see’s the vision of Open Evening as I do, a thrilling, run and chase story that delves into the unknown and unexpected.

There has been progress in my indecisions of what to do next as a wordsmith. We are a species that is in fact always drafting. I have at least 3 future projects in the pipeline and there will always be more. Sometimes it feels as if there is no finish line but to keep working for me is bliss, a purpose, even a calling.

Writing is something I find myself needing more everyday, I also find myself enjoying it even more. The success I have had is minimal; but these books are an investment in time, they will always be there, even when I am not, I wonder if authors of yesteryear thought that too. Many of which never saw their titles reach the pinnacle of success in their lifetime. A true artists lament. But that isn’t why I write. Of course the fame and lifestyle of earning big bucks would be a desire, but I write because I enjoy building worlds and the characters that reside in them. Their struggles and overall battles towards redemption echoes mine and others in real life. If there is no element of realism in fiction then why write anything at all?

Have something to say, even if it is whilst being chased by unholy demon creatures who came from underground. There is always a message, there has to be. We function as humans by looking at the finer detail by taking someone else’s words and interpreting them for ourselves.

This all sounds artistic and deep, but it’s truth, and truth is something all fiction must contain if you want to grasp a reader. Pull them in with shit that you’ve seen or seen others go through. Make it life or death, convert the mundane into high octane, put action where there was once just peace and solitude. Overall make the reader believe what you have to say, base characters on real people without dropping their name to avoid a lawsuit, relate to where you work and the fact management will always be the bad guy. Look for the hero where there are only villains and maybe that saviour you need so much is staring you back in the mirror.

If you plan to write anything in this life, make it count, and make it as if you have something to say. In years to come some English lit major will probably spin that into some prose study stuff, but that’s alright, people are still reading your work. To write is to build and vent, it’s probably what sets us apart from the animals, we can create, and we can do it well.