Laugh Killer Laugh Page #4

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Okay, name?

Oscar.

Oscar.

- Kissel.

- Okay.

Oscar.

A lot of people have come

in here like yourself that...

they have a lot to express

and they don't know how.

Creative writing will help you

with all of that.

I'm gonna give you an assignment.

I want you to go home...

and write about something

you know or like,

but make it fictitious.

If you like flying on planes,

write a story about an airline pilot.

Or if you like walking

in the park on Sundays,

write a story about a softball player

that does well in that park on Sundays.

Whatever it is, do it thoroughly.

Get into details.

I want you to make our class believe

in your character, that it's real.

And then we'll feel for them

in their problems, okay?

Softball player?

Goddammit, Frank!

Didn't that sweet ass you got

for a creative writing teacher

tell you to write about stuff you know?

Well, you know about

the darker things in life, don't ya?

So write about that!

Now get back on that typewriter.

And write about that,

you mangy looking bastard.

Come on, I learned you better than that!

Go.

The night never knew

a shade darker than his soul.

That's what everybody used

to say about Frank Stone.

Like a clap of thunder,

he was brought into the world,

and like a flash of lightning, he lived.

And that was pulling off jewelry jobs.

It was his vice.

It gave him comfort, control.

And he would stop at nothing

to get it done.

Nothing. He was as serious

as a heart attack.

But how can one live when laughter

can't sooth their soul?

Frank knew he was dead inside, born dead.

Didn't understand why.

Only certain things made sense to him.

Like being found in a dumpster

on Christmas Eve,

with the umbilical cord

wrapped around his neck.

No.

That can't be good.

That was clear. That's exactly

what the syndicate looks for, too.

Men with rage.

Frank was the most comfortable

in this kind of environment.

So was his boss, Tough Tony Forte.

A local punk gangster with a long arm...

Who always gave Frank work...

whenever the need would arise.

And fortunately for Frank, that need

came about on a regular basis.

He couldn't wait to get that call.

It's the only time

Frank seemed to come alive.

That was just the way things

were in his world. Hard, cold.

That was Frank Stone.

That's all I got so far.

Thank you, Oscar, that was interesting.

Does anybody here

have any questions for Oscar?

Yes, Ackley?

I'm sorry, but that sounded like a...

gangster movie

from the 1940's or something.

You know,

it was like just so totally fake.

And, like, no one in real life

sounds like Frank Stone.

Except, since World War II or something.

Philip... Ackley, once again,

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