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2.waste query

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Joel Brooks
Joel Brooks

Joel Brooks has written a short story called "Waste" that is part of a 12-part anthology. The story is about Charles Dufant, a trash truck driver who finds valuable items in the trash. However, he soon discovers that local gangs control his route and demand payoffs. As he moves to a new district in Los Angeles, he finds himself threatened by gang members who use the dumpsters to dispose of murder victims. Charles is forced to accept bribes to ignore the human remains. The situation becomes dangerous and Charles fears for his life as the gangs exert more control over his route.

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Joel Brooks 1245 Market Street Apt. #3310 San Diego, CA 92101 http://www.ozenoz.com (424)731-3051 joelbrooks@ymail.com To Whom I Hope This Concerns; I have written a short about trash. This short, I could not tell is how many words or pages. I do not have the program to do that. It is entitled "Waste", though I am considering "Eating It". It is one of twelve steps to completing my anthology, which I assure you will sell a couple. When Charles Dufant became a trash truck driver, he felt he had found the lowest title he could find to keep his life stable. Pay that put him in the upper middle class as a rookie driver, Chuck was finally beginning to feel comfortable with his newly found urban life. People threw away the damndest things stereos, televisions, computers, antique furniture, artwork, hell this was going to make his new pad pimped out in a very big way. He could stand all the Whats up Chuck? jokes about the griminess of his position and the snide looks from the uptight walkers who couldnt stand to see their own trash being handled for fear of the rap. This was going to be all right. Little did he know what was to come. He begins to notice that his route includes territory that is being handled by local thugs, who are very up front about their
expectation of pay in return for protection. Hailing from small town, Iowa, Charles isnt accustomed to anything but the wind turbines causing this kind of pollution and disturbance. These guys feed the local seagulls antacid tablets every morning as they gather around for morning coffee just to watch and laugh as they puff up and die. They are hard core hardened thugs whose only interest in the days takes, and what of it will make it on the books, and what of it they will take home to their wives and mistresses. When he moves district in Los Angeles, he finds that his life is in danger. Now working deeper into the streets that see the actual back alley action those white collar dollar earning heat makers create with their side businesses of smuggling and delivery knock over payouts on non paying shopkeepers, Charles is getting worried. These fools are approaching him on a daily basis trying to negotiate some kind of relationship that is coming off more and more forced as if something very deadly is coming. He notices a local renowned hit man, Tutlie Snipes in the early morning dew packing a piece very openly stalking a beat down corner crack dealer, and he begins to get scared. Finally, the situation becomes all too clear. Large payouts are being forced on him to ignore the dumping of mob and gang murder victims being laid to waste in his routes dumpsters. Every week he is expected to accept tribute in exchange for ignoring the contents of his truck as it pulls away from another unlucky customers almost final resting place. He is forced to avoid dump heavy equipment operators situating the trash to accept his loads, for fear of a John or Jane Doe popping out in front of them. At night, he
dreams of faceless victims being stacked in his waiting receptacles, their graves left empty for those who would grieve. The worst of it all comes when Tutlie is actually present and finishing the job one morning as he makes his pickup. From the look on the mans face, and his demeanor, Charles knows his only payment is that he remains alive. I don't want to waste the ending, or get wasted in the process. I am quite sure reading it will not kill you, though I have learned alot about eating it. I am lying through my teeth the entire way through the former synopsis. Do not worry, I am not a smoker of chronic in that fashion. I will leave that to the lion's den. Snoop onward if you like. There is a reason IT is at OZENOZ. That is my dot com. After all, we are only ordinary men. May I Thrill You Later, Joel Brooks

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2.waste query

  • 1. Joel Brooks 1245 Market Street Apt. #3310 San Diego, CA 92101 http://www.ozenoz.com (424)731-3051 joelbrooks@ymail.com To Whom I Hope This Concerns; I have written a short about trash. This short, I could not tell is how many words or pages. I do not have the program to do that. It is entitled "Waste", though I am considering "Eating It". It is one of twelve steps to completing my anthology, which I assure you will sell a couple. When Charles Dufant became a trash truck driver, he felt he had found the lowest title he could find to keep his life stable. Pay that put him in the upper middle class as a rookie driver, Chuck was finally beginning to feel comfortable with his newly found urban life. People threw away the damndest things stereos, televisions, computers, antique furniture, artwork, hell this was going to make his new pad pimped out in a very big way. He could stand all the Whats up Chuck? jokes about the griminess of his position and the snide looks from the uptight walkers who couldnt stand to see their own trash being handled for fear of the rap. This was going to be all right. Little did he know what was to come. He begins to notice that his route includes territory that is being handled by local thugs, who are very up front about their
  • 2. expectation of pay in return for protection. Hailing from small town, Iowa, Charles isnt accustomed to anything but the wind turbines causing this kind of pollution and disturbance. These guys feed the local seagulls antacid tablets every morning as they gather around for morning coffee just to watch and laugh as they puff up and die. They are hard core hardened thugs whose only interest in the days takes, and what of it will make it on the books, and what of it they will take home to their wives and mistresses. When he moves district in Los Angeles, he finds that his life is in danger. Now working deeper into the streets that see the actual back alley action those white collar dollar earning heat makers create with their side businesses of smuggling and delivery knock over payouts on non paying shopkeepers, Charles is getting worried. These fools are approaching him on a daily basis trying to negotiate some kind of relationship that is coming off more and more forced as if something very deadly is coming. He notices a local renowned hit man, Tutlie Snipes in the early morning dew packing a piece very openly stalking a beat down corner crack dealer, and he begins to get scared. Finally, the situation becomes all too clear. Large payouts are being forced on him to ignore the dumping of mob and gang murder victims being laid to waste in his routes dumpsters. Every week he is expected to accept tribute in exchange for ignoring the contents of his truck as it pulls away from another unlucky customers almost final resting place. He is forced to avoid dump heavy equipment operators situating the trash to accept his loads, for fear of a John or Jane Doe popping out in front of them. At night, he
  • 3. dreams of faceless victims being stacked in his waiting receptacles, their graves left empty for those who would grieve. The worst of it all comes when Tutlie is actually present and finishing the job one morning as he makes his pickup. From the look on the mans face, and his demeanor, Charles knows his only payment is that he remains alive. I don't want to waste the ending, or get wasted in the process. I am quite sure reading it will not kill you, though I have learned alot about eating it. I am lying through my teeth the entire way through the former synopsis. Do not worry, I am not a smoker of chronic in that fashion. I will leave that to the lion's den. Snoop onward if you like. There is a reason IT is at OZENOZ. That is my dot com. After all, we are only ordinary men. May I Thrill You Later, Joel Brooks