Poetic Justice

I want to write this comic book.

>>In the news today<<

“… the Governor was found dead in his office today, apparently strangled to death with a length of cable … the Governor is known for his hard line stance against prostitution in his province. He was famous for his Sunday sermons at the provincial capitol during which he would rail against what has been called the oldest profession in the world …”

*click*

>>Interior. Police station. The room is dimly lit by two flourescent lamps: one of them glowing weakly, the other pulsing like it’s about to go dead.In one corner, an ancient electric fan whirls noisily sending papers flying to the floor.<<

Joseph – That’s funny.

Angela – What?

Joseph – The Governor, talking shit about whores.

Angela – What’s so funny about that?

Joseph – You haven’t heard, have you? That bastard was the biggest customer around. Well, in terms of the number of girls he got anyway. As far as generosity goes, they say he never tipped over a hundred. Look at him…

[tosses an old file photo on the desk]

Joseph – Anyone who can stomach to stay in the same room as him for more than ten minutes deserves a thousand-peso tip at least. Can you imagine how much someone who actually lets him fuck her should get?”

Angela – Kadiri ka.

[laughs]

Joseph – Kadiri sya.

Captain – Montes, Duran! Quit laughing and get to work! Katatawag lang ng mga bosing. Malakas pala kapit ni Gob. May deadline daw tayo.

>> Interior. Morgue. The place looks like a filthy butcher shop. Body is on the table, draped until the nipple line <<

Coroner – Obviously, cause of death was strangulation.

[points to ligature marks, purple against the corpse’s pale skin]

Joseph – what’s that?

[points to regularly shaped circular bruises intersecting the ligature marks]

Coroner – Ah. Haven’t you seen the cable? Over there.

[Angela walks to the next table]

Angela – He was strangled with a rosary?

Joseph – What?  / Coroner – Is it that obvious? What gave it away? The bolts welded to the cable? or the crucifix at the end?

Joseph – Are you serious.

[Walks to Angela]

Joseph – Haha. Oo nga.

Angela – Its a good thing those Manila guys are coming in for this. Ayoko to.

Joseph – Why not?

Angela – All the killings we’ve investigated so far involved a drunk loser or a drug addict or a rejected lover with a gun or a knife or a fork. This is different. Too weird.

>> Fade to black <<

>>Interior, night. A teenage boy, surfing the net, blogging<<

[Typing]

He raped me again last night.

[Leans back, blows smoke]

This is the third time this week and its only tuesday.

[Incoming YM alert sounds]

Boy – Huh?

[Reads YM] [From: admin@poeticjustice.com] [To: afrudiziak@yahoo.com.ph] [Subj: Rape] [Rudi, bakit hindi ka gumanti?] [Rudi chats]

Rudi: He’s my dad.

Poeticjustice: All the more reason.

Rudi: And besides, how would I do it.

Poeticjustice: click the link.

[Clicks the link; reads] [Who doesn’t want revenge isn’t the question. It never is. The question is how do you get revenge. I know how. If you ask for help, you will get it. In the box below, type in your answer to the question. When you come back, the first thing you type should be your answer. Then I’ll know it’s you and we can talk about how to make your revenge happen. Poetic justice isn’t a natural phenomenon. Think about it.]

The Question: How do you want your target to suffer?

[Rudi types his answer]

>> Fade to black<<

 

 

 

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