# Dirty Selfishness [2000 words]



## Da_Geroto (Mar 14, 2014)

*Hello guys, I've been writing this since a few weeks ago, just imagining the principal fact on the story, so I felt kinda inspired to go on with the idea and gave it a context and a meaning, it turned longer than I'd like to be, but I think I cannot skip more details.
English is not my native language, so if there's any error on the story, I'd been gratefull to make me notice it.*_


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*Dirty Selfishness*​ 
_ “If something can go wrong, will also go dirty”_

As a matter of common sense, plus some other influential logical factor, we can deduce the possibilities of something going as we want. And we could admit it or not, but there‘s always a margin of error in our deduction, this margin of error reaches its maximum point of algidity when we realize that its presence covers more than we could imagine. That is, exceeds the limits of the premeditated, and leaves us in a completely vulnerable and ridiculous position by noting that in addition to not getting the results we expected. Even add a small detail that makes the result a little worse than we thought it would be possible, this evil detail makes this story.

Nicholas was a mean, nasty and degenerate old man, at the age sixty-five came to have about twenty-five complaints for: "Snatching the purity of various young girls, without the consent of their mothers." This was textual, girls’ mothers were whom performed these claims, and they didn’t used to be heralds of rationalism, much less of sensitivity, in fact one of the girls said tearfully to his mother:
—Mom…, the purity… the purity is no longer
— How’s that?, what did I tell you about losing stages of your life out there?, what’s his job?
—He is “Lastierr’s” owner, the electronics company —answered the Young girl with a notable restlessness and distress in her voice. Before she could even finish the word “electronics”, her mother said with a spirit of positivism and a slight smile:
—The old Nicholas… —when she said his name, she reacted reflexively to her own annotation—.Do you know if a new refrigerator model came out recently?

The old Nicholas was also millionaire, head of one of the leading brands of home appliance, with branches in twenty-six countries —whenever "snatched a purity", he opened a new branch, creating new jobs, this was his way of redeeming his sins, he didn’t go to church to confess, he didn’t donate to charity, and neither did he replace the toilet paper when finished, the old Nicholas opened branches—.

At the age of sixty-nine years he contracted pancreas cancer, had a hard time dealing with the disease, the treatment was not wearing it easy at all, he didn't even follow it correctly, he used to take his medicine with Johnnie Walker and spat the chemotherapists, one day he had to be admitted to emergency because there was an overflow of whiskey in his pancreatic duct. His son James, when heard this, went emergency to the hospital, putting on him all the attention he had never put on any other person or thing in his young and pathetic life. James was thirty-two. He was boastful and unemployed. By his economic comfort never searched for a job or studied a college degree, according to him, he didn’t need to get more money than his father constantly offered. Also he knew that soon will come a day when his eccentric progenitor will have to cede all its assets, being his son, the sole heir.

It was 7 pm on Sunday, and had been three day since old Nicholas hospitalization, his condition didn’t improve, outside the room were James and his aunt talking about the possible millionaire heritage that their relative would leave.
—The doctor said the overflow cracked the organs, that maybe he won’t pass this night ... you think he is going to survive? — Asked her aunt.
James hesitated —No ... I think not, it’s very complicated, and also this is coming from before, do you remember when the analysis that he made two years ago, the extracted blood was considered by doctors as "alcoholic drink of questionable origin "?
—Yes ... he wasn’t so far that time, you have to make him sign the testament before it's too late.
—He won’t be so easily accessible, but I will try to convince him, you go call the lawyer.

James stepped into the room, there it was, the old Nicholas, sucking the serum tube, the Valium provided by the doctors made him hallucinate that for that tube was circulating vodka. He went to his father.
— Dad ... as you may know, you are going through a th...
— I will not give you a damn thing!, you and your bitch aunt are fucking parasites, existed until now thanks to me, maybe I’ve made some mistakes, but at least I made my fortune alone, without the help of anybody, so I won’t give you nothing, I'll order to make explode the company into a thousand pieces so I don’t leave anything to you, you ungrateful basterds.
—Dad ... please, think a little, I'm your only son, I… I love you, and you're my dad, and dads love their sons, would you leave a son starving?  —said James with deep fear of not achieving his goal and turn into a dirty homeless.
—If you starve is because you wanted to, I'm not going to give you anything for free, not anymore, you lazy faggot. —replied Nicholas with traces of anger and resentment.
—Dad ... I need to make sure my subsistence, what if… what if you die? Please God, don’t hear me.
James tried to draw tears on his face, at least one tear caused by the slight blizzard that ran across the room, he was trying so hard, he opened his eyes like waiting for the wind penetrating his eyes and making drop those desirable tears, he closed and opened the eyes with pressure, even tried to remember some technique of the Actor’s Studio in New York that his father paid him, but James never went to the classes, he spent the whole money on nightclubs, finally he gave up, he just couldn’t produce a single tear.
—What the hell are you doing? Hopefully that basterd will hear you.
—Dad ... I’ll do whatever you want, let me accomplish your last wish, but please consider it, your dead conscience wouldn’t want to carry a child into oblivion. —James was desperate.
Old Nicholas went through thousands of things into his head, but these thousand things only occupied a second on his thought.
—Bring me a whiskey… the last whiskey, and I’ll sign that damn testament. —James smiled.

He ran excitedly to the winery of his father, and then he searched the whiskey that his little knowing eye felt would be the best in the winery, it was a green bottle, square and lengthened, more like a bottle of vinegar than a whiskey one, he went to pick the lawyer to his house, but he was delayed by some family troubles, her daughter just confessed that one of her most important values ​​was stolen, and his father was determined to sue the state for it.
James gave the whiskey bottle to his father, bottle that was hidden with lack of dissimulation, —because of the deformity of it under his coat.
—Here's what you asked me, I’ve made my part, now it's up to you. James with great expectation gives to his father the whiskey, a pen and a sheet of paper.
—You had over six-hundred whiskeys to choose, and you came with the one that looks like a bottle of vinegar? —Old Nicholas looked nostalgic the angled bottle on his hands—.I bought this whiskey many years ago when I was just starting, barely had money to eat ... and drink, I started to go well with the company, so I left the alcohol, to not harm the business you know? When I relapsed into alcoholism I’ve already had my fortune, so I had no need to drink what is in this bottle —the old man looked the bottle suspiciously— at those times I consumed the best, ... but I guess at the end of our lives we go back to the beginning ... maybe this is the best whiskey in the world, and I’m gonna taste it now, who knows...? Go, leave me alone, I'll drink this and write the testament.

James left the room quite satisfied, he had managed to sensitize his father and make him to access with the succession of property. _—To Old Nicholas hardly mattered what he had just spoken with his son, so he opened the strange bottle of whiskey, and drinked it in a single gulp, he grabbed the pen and in the sheet that his son gave to him to testamentary, he wrote something very brief and signed it. Then, without doubting for a second, he rolled the sheet and shoved it into his anus, had a huge conviction about what he was doing, as if it were a final decision that would change the course of the world. Once the testament was completely inside him, the old Nicholas began to push hard, moving to the sides violently, as if he were giving birth to a teen with dietary troubles, his body didn’t give more of himself, suddenly like by divine force he stopped moving, he just committed suicide, he had committed suicide just doing force, Nicholas was dead laid on the bed, with his eyes opened and the bottle next to his neck.
_
He peacefully went to his house, everything was under control, he had never felt so satisfied, the beginning of what he considered good life was yet to come, just imagining all those gay-friendly parties he would host, a huge smile drew on his delicate face.
He drinked a glass of wine, the first wine he found on the house, and went to bed early, eager for an important call on the next morning. James woke up around 10 am, a little bit scared because he had no news of the hospital, so he headed quickly toward it.

He entered briskly into the facilities, went up twenty-four floors by the stairs, —unconsciously he thought that this would make him arrive quickly—, toured the large hallway doing long and steep steps, finally stopped in front of room 910, opened the door with great expectation and found four doctors and three nurses playing poker using the corpse of an obese woman as a makeshift table, they were smoking, drinking, and actually appeared to enjoy their recreational time. He didn’t have to keep watching that scene much longer to realize that he confused the number of room, his father was in the 190.
He walked down twenty floors, went to the room and opened the door, there he was, lying on the bed with his limbs extended, the eyes about to pop and the bottle of whiskey that his son gave him, James felt successful, quickly entered into the room, looking for the testament was supposed his father had written in exchange to the blissful bottle of whiskey. But he didn’t find it anywhere, he put upside down the whole room, drawers, under the sheets and into the pillow, but didn’t find what purported to be the reason for his happiness. An absolute sadness overwhelmed him, completely dejected, wondering how his father could have been so selfish, James notified to the gamblers nurses, that his father died, —thirteen hours ago— —nurses removed the body three hours later of having been warned—.

A few hours later James receives a call from the hospital morgue, they had found something.
There stood the dead body of his controversial father, naked, and resting comfortably on the stretcher, the coroner turned to the unfortunate heir.
—I found this in your father’s body, it seems to be a testament form ... an incomplete testament form.
— What ... how? INTO my father’s body?
—Yes, It was ... It was into his anus.
Suddenly a loud explosion was heard in the distance, it came from a building whose sign stated: "Lastierr”, it could be seen flames through the grim window morgue.
James took the paper selflessly, without taking his eyes off the window, while he was making the necessary force on his fingers to hold the paper, a shy tear fell from his left eye, his face and his hands shook, even more when he reacted and remembered from where it came the paper he was holding, a mix of the worst emotions and existing sensations was living it all together at that time, an interesting compound of disgust and depression invaded him, he even got to envy his father seeing him very peaceful on the stretcher as if he had planned to ruin his son's life, committing misdeeds even after death. The paper, ruined and pretty dirty said:

_"That whiskey sucked"_
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## cazann34 (Mar 15, 2014)

I found this very obscure. What is this,' purity' that is mentioned many times in the text. The girls virginity? If so why would, '"Snatching the purity from young girls, need their mothers consent, or not as the case may be. This needs clearing up.

I read first two paragraphs out loud but then stopped. There was nothing to hook me, nothing to encourage me to read on. It reads like fragments of thoughts, undefined, leaping from one sentence to another without explaining to the  reader it's meaning. It is good to keep the reader guessing but you need to allow them at least the sight of the carrot before you taking it out of their reach. In your first paragraph you were obviously trying show your intellect in the style of the prose, but to me it reads far too obscure, like something from another century, the nineteen century perhaps (1800's, something from Arthur Conan Doyle or Charles Dickens) but then the second we're back in the twenty-first century. I think you're trying out styles, perhaps from your favourite authors but you need to pick one and stick to it. Try using your own voice. Write it as if you're telling someone this story. Use words you'd use in every day life. 

There are many little nit-picks too:
numbers, should be written out: 65 should be sixty-five and so on.
Each sentence needs to make sense before moving onto the next--read your work out loud its the best way to hear the voice and understand what's not working or what needs clarifying.
There's missing words too which would help with clarity.
The sentence structure needs work too, I counted sixty-three words in one sentence. 




> Diego was 32, he was boastful and unemployed, by his economic comfort never searched for a job or studied a college degree, according to him, he didn’t need to get more money than his father constantly offered, also he knew that soon will come a day when his eccentric progenitor will have to cede all its assets, being his son, the sole heir.


 
The format is a but wonky too, but that's more likely the site and not you-you may have to go through the text and reformat after you copy and paste, a pain but it'll help the reader.

I note that English is not your first language so I commend you on attempting to write in other than your mother tongue. English isn't an easy language even we who have been speaking and writing it all our lives can get it wrong at times and the craft of creative writing isn't an easy one either. I suggest that you go through your story sentence by sentence reading it out to yourself while asking would someone other than me understand what I am trying to say?

I hope this helps. Good luck with the rewrites.


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## cazann34 (Mar 15, 2014)

I found this very obscure. What is this,' purity' that is mentioned many times in the text. The girls virginity? If so why would, '"Snatching the purity from young girls, need their mothers consent, or not as the case may be. This needs clearing up.

I read first two paragraphs out loud but then stopped. There was nothing to hook me, nothing to encourage me to read on. It reads like fragments of thoughts, undefined, leaping from one sentence to another without explaining to the  reader it's meaning. It is good to keep the reader guessing but you need to allow them at least the sight of the carrot before you taking it out of their reach. In your first paragraph you were obviously trying show your intellect in the style of the prose, but to me it reads far too obscure, like something from another century, the nineteen century perhaps (1800's, something from Arthur Conan Doyle or Charles Dickens) but then the second we're back in the twenty-first century. I think you're trying out styles, perhaps from your favourite authors but you need to pick one and stick to it. Try using your own voice. Write it as if you're telling someone this story. Use words you'd use in every day life. 

There are many little nit-picks too:
numbers, should be written out: 65 should be sixty-five and so on.
Each sentence needs to make sense before moving onto the next--read your work out loud its the best way to hear the voice and understand what's not working or what needs clarifying.
There's missing words too which would help with clarity.
The sentence structure needs work too, I counted sixty-three words in one sentence. 




> Diego was 32, he was boastful and unemployed, by his economic comfort never searched for a job or studied a college degree, according to him, he didn’t need to get more money than his father constantly offered, also he knew that soon will come a day when his eccentric progenitor will have to cede all its assets, being his son, the sole heir.


 
The format is a but wonky too, but that's more likely the site and not you-you may have to go through the text and reformat after you copy and paste, a pain but it'll help the reader.

I note that English is not your first language so I commend you on attempting to write in other than your mother tongue. English isn't an easy language even we who have been speaking and writing it all our lives can get it wrong at times and the craft of creative writing isn't an easy one either. I suggest that you go through your story sentence by sentence reading it out to yourself while asking would someone other than me understand what I am trying to say?

I hope this helps. Good luck with the rewrites.


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## Da_Geroto (Mar 15, 2014)

Thanks for your opinion.


The story is obscure itself, we can surely say it's black comedy. And yes, it's girls virginity, and I wasn't so sure to put that on the story, not because it could be obscure, I don't care about that, it's just because it looks kinda forced into the story.


With the first paragraph you mean the introduction of the story? I wanted to write it, just to give the story some reason to be, and not just "A regular story", I wasn't sure to put it neither, finally I did it, maybe it's not neccesary, but I think some readers could not understand what was my point when I wrote this.
Also I didn't want to make it longer than it is, didn't want to go on beyond the 1000 words, and I did it, so if I start to explain everything like it were a novel, it would be so far from what my idea was.


I've wrote it in spanish first, then translate it to english, I've send it to two friends and they said it was ok, maybe they thought differently because they read the spanish "native version", and also cause they have a different taste of humour, I'll keep reading it untill I make it better.


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## Yfig (Mar 18, 2014)

In french, we call it "black humor" black like the color of the widow.

It sometimes happens that a man refuse to let anything to his descendants.
I France, your story would not make sens because if ther is non official testament then the law says every thing is going to the children and / or the widow ... So the old Nicholas should have written a testament to remove eveything from his son ...

Anyhow !

This story sounds familiar to me ... we have a lot of  films treating this subject.

The way you treated it seems correct to me.


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## Da_Geroto (Mar 18, 2014)

Yfig said:


> In french, we call it "black humor" black like the color of the widow.
> 
> It sometimes happens that a man refuse to let anything to his descendants.
> I France, your story would not make sens because if ther is non official testament then the law says every thing is going to the children and / or the widow ... So the old Nicholas should have written a testament to remove eveything from his son ...
> ...



But the company EXPLODED!


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## Yfig (Mar 18, 2014)

Da_Geroto said:


> But the company EXPLODED!



Ah ! It is not explained if the company exploded on purpose (on order from Nicholas) ?

It could happen ... I suppose the old man had an insurance covering this kind of 'accident' and other money (bank accounts ...)

If you want to make the explosion the final end and the ruine of the son ... then .... write it ... because every people wil react in a different way !

And even if the son is ruined ... what I care about is your writting before the story itself. It would be different if I where a producer or an editor ... I am just a reader.


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