Update

Writing for a Jacksonville based production group called Quarter Ton Industries, which can be found here:
http://quartertonindustries.com/
They have a few of my short stories, as well as some comic scripts. Things are occurring, I hope.
Particle 9 Productions' next project is one that I did a treatment for about a year ago. I'm hoping that mine is the script they decide to go with, but all of their projects are stalled at the moment.

More updates as they happen.

Because It's Fun

The inside of his friend's apartment was too small with just one person in it, but with fifteen drunk and eager college students mingling in the living room it felt like a sweat soaked coffin. Ethan needed air, and there was none of that outside. He swayed a little bit as he shoved his way through the crowd, pas the bedroom hallway and through the dining room to the back porch. One other person was standing on the balcony, smoking a cigarette. It wouldn't be clean air, but it would be better than inside. He pushed the stubborn sliding glass door slowly open, it skipped along its track and there was a low grinding sound. It hadn't reached the glass yet. Oh well. It wasn't his security deposit either way. The smoker turned around, it was Alex, a soft spoken man-boy of medium height.
“Oh, it's you,” he said.
Ethan nodded and walked to the railing, looking down three stories to the court yard. “Yeah. Just needed to get out of there, y'know?”
Alex nodded and turned back to the view. There was no one else in the courtyard, but two raccoons were fighting over a scrap of food, probably dropped from the party.
“I didn't know you smoked,” Ethan said.
“Yeah, well,” Alex paused, trying to think of the right phrasing. He did that a lot. “It helps me control my other... cravings.”
Ethan laughed. “Like what, drinking, things like that? It's not much better.”
“Yeah, like that.”
“At least you can drive home afterwards,” Ethan shrugged, “What the hell, you got a spare?”
“Sure.”
Alex handed Ethan a cigarette from the pocket of his jacket, along with a silver lighter. It took Ethan a minute to get the thing started, he didn't smoke too often, only when he was drinking. And that did wonders for his co-ordination. After a few awkward minutes, he handed the lighter back. “Thanks,” he said.
In the courtyard, one raccoon had given up on simply taking the food, and jumped on the other's back, biting its tail at the base. It squealed and dropped the food scraps, trying to shake off his assailant and run. After a brief struggle, he was freed, and the attacker started in on the food with the same ferocity.
“Wow. I had no idea they were that vicious,” Ethan said.
“Anything can be vicious with the right motivation.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” he said, flicking his cigarette down, barely missing the remaining raccoon, “Take humans for example. We're not the most peaceful species, but there's almost always a reason. We get hungry, or angry, or greedy. It's always a need that is satisfied. The need for food. The need for vengeance. The need for other people's shit.”
“I suppose. I can't think of anything I would kill for though.”
“Most people don't, ahead of time. But things can get desperate,” Alex said, kneeling to tie his shoe.
“What about you? Have you thought about what you would do, if you got desperate?”
“Yes,” he said, grabbing Ethan's leg, “I have.” He lifted Ethan quickly, tossing him head first off the balcony. There was a sickening sound like a coconut being opened with a hammer. Alex stood up and looked over the balcony. “Mostly, I do it because it's fun.”
He squinted, looking at the scene below more closely. The raccoon's tail was sticking out from under Ethan's slumped and broken body.
“Hey, two in one shot! New record,” he said, heading back into the party.