THE VILLAGE : Part 41 - I'm Very Good At Passive Resistance, It Takes Far Less Effort.

This is Booby's Bay. Yes, that's right BOOBY'S. I really would love to know what the origin of this name is, because it's not a topless beach. In fact either side of high tide there is no beach, it's covered by the sea. As such it's probably one of the most dangerous beaches in the area I grew up in and is red flagged for much of the summer, i.e. it's very dangerous to go into the water. Tourists never let that bother them though. That's why so many locals have to risk their lives saving the dumb cunts year after year. It's one of my many gripes about so called extreme sportsmen. Every time one of those dumb cunts face plants on some rocks there's a page dedicated to them on FaceBook where people say how wonderful they were and how much they loved life and were truly wonderful human beings. Meanwhile no one ever thanks the unpaid volunteers who had to risk their lives to collect the useless bag of flesh after it's killed itself with its own stupidity.

(The copyright for this image is the property of Cornwall Guide)

"Are you worried I don't like you anymore? Only you're acting differently with me than you used to."
Sophie's question hadn't come out of a vacuum, the last couple of weeks Michael knew he'd been trying very hard to be less himself. It was hard. Especially being different while pretending to be the same.
"Like is a very strong word Sophie. It's up there with love and respect."
"No it isn't."
"But it is to me. I don't expect to be liked, loved or respected. There is nothing about me to inspire those concepts. I'm not likable, lovable or respectable. Thanks for returning the thumb drive though. I appreciate that. After 3 weeks of asking for it, repeatedly. Several times a day."
She grinned.
"That's more like the old sarcastic you. The man I know and tolerate in short, sharp bursts."
"If I said I do my best I'd be lying. I do the minimum it takes to achieve whatever. Have you come up with anything? Regarding Steph and Doidge? Only you've spent a very long time going over his creative output."
"These things take time. I'm working on that as part of a much larger, longer term project that might be of interest to you."
"What would that be?"
"I'm not telling you. It still needs some work."
"Please don't misunderstand me here, but given how quickly you came up with and then organized my mock trial and employment arbitration, the scope of your current project worries me. It worries me even more that I might become involved in it."
"You already are. As my accomplice. Although you're more of a sidekick. Robin to my Batman. Ooooo that's one we can do together. I'll get Tall Girl to run up our costumes. If the boss is amenable."
"That depends. Is it the 1960's version, the 1990's one or his most recent incarnation?"
"Mmmmm. That's a good point. I'm not sure now. I was thinking of the Ben Affleck one. I didn't even know there was a 60's version. Which would you prefer?"
Now that he'd had some time to look at it Michael couldn't decide.
"I'm up for whatever I suppose. As long as I'm not Batgirl, Catwoman or Harley Quin. I'd be prepared to do Robin."
"What about The Joker. I see you more as The Joker if I think about it. The deranged, psychotic killer without a conscience. It's pretty much casting to type."
"Good point. It's going to require a lot more makeup than I'm used to though. Generally I only ever use a hint of foundation and a very subdued blusher. Still it's good to try new things."
"There you go and spoil it. You're rolling over so easily these days. That's what's changed about you. All the fight has gone out of you."
"Oh there never has been any fight in me. It's pure stubbornness. I'm very good at passive resistance, it takes far less effort. After being stubborn for a while and it proving pointless, I decided to treat this like being caught in a strong current. Fighting against it is not only impossible but stupid. You have to go with it, wherever it takes you, in order to survive. And I'm still not doing Cinderella or anything else involving hooped skirts for that matter. Captain Hook to your Peter Pan is fine."
"I still think you're worried."
"You're not wrong. Being worried is my ground state. I worry I'm running out of time to be lazy. I worry I might not have anything to ignore or moan about. Once, about two years ago I became worried that Luke and I would become lovers."
"Bullshit."
"It's true I'm afraid. It was something Doogie said. I was bollocking Luke about something and Doogie says "I don't know whether you two are spoiling for a fight or a fuck" and at the time I dismissed it. Then I started thinking about it as a what if. The chances were slim I admit. Given neither of us is that way inclined and that Luke is so Christian it hurts. He wouldn't cheat on his wife under any circumstances. Couldn't get it out of my head for ages. I stopped shopping with him just in case. I had the image of the pair of us buying avocado while holding hands. Growing old together. Got to the point where I was planning his murder and how I'd make it look like an accident."
"Cool. How are you planning on doing it?" Sophie asked excitedly.
"I went with suicide in the end. He's a very heavy sleeper so I could have strung him up in the stairwell. I'd even written his suicide note. In which he admitted to having increasingly sexual feelings towards me he could no longer live with. He'd rather kindly bequeathed all his worldly possessions to me as well."
"So what stopped you?"
"Well apart from the fact it was a several billion to one against probability we'd ever end up together, he's worth fuck all. And that's an overestimate. Besides he's a hefty bloke and stringing him up even while half asleep would have been too much like hard work."
"Shame. You've still got it as a back up plan though. Just in case."
"Of course. Now what worries me is that we'll end up spending our old age together anyway. Like some fucked up situation comedy."
"You see. This is the stuff I love. You, me and a well thought out murder plan. Only I'd have gone with taking him out to the cliffs and pushing him off. That way there's no chance he'd shit and ejaculate in your stairwell. Being hanged will do that to a man. The urine is fine but the last shit will stink real bad. There's a lot less cleaning up to do with a reliable cliff. He'd be doing over 70 mph after a hundred feet. Smack on the rocks and even if he survived that the sea would finish him off. No way he's swimming to safety."
"That's pure evil genius Soph. Simple and 100% effective. You must teach me more sensei. Of course this is all purely theoretical."
She winked and tapped the side of her tiny nose.
"Good lad. Plausible deniability. In fact this conversation never took place. No need for you to be worried about me not liking you Michael. I'll keep tolerating you as long as there's a possibility you could provide me with an alibi."
"What more could a man ask for?"
"You could ask me to suck your dick."
"I'm working on that as part of a much larger, longer term project that won't be of interest to you. By the way, now we're back to what passes for normal between us, did not being able to decrypt or copy my personal, private files have anything to do with returning the memory stick?"
"It sure did. Big Jeff and Steph refused to help. They both have scruples, damn it."
"I sympathize with you there. Scruples can be very painful to the recipient.... How did you manage to copy the files then?"
"Now the old, old me would deny that. The new, old me will admit I got there eventually. You've no idea how hard it makes things when you even encode the file extensions."

Having reluctantly opened his front door, Michael was surprised to find Doogie and Doidge on his doorstep. They were carrying two shotguns apiece. Maybe his death wish was coming true.

"Is this revenge for me asking you for advice? Please make this quick, only my legs are like jelly. I've just run over two miles."
Doogie guffawed derisively while Doidge grinned from ear to ear.
"No ya didn't. You slow jogged 800 meters at most. Then you staggered and crawled another klick tops. While putting you out of your misery is inviting we thought we'd take you shooting. See if there's anything else your shit at."
Michael snapped and lashed out uncontrollably."
"Darcy said she has feelings for you. It was those flowers you suggested. The ones I didn't give to her. When I revealed you'd just spent the night banging a blonde she was distraught. Felt betrayed. She's putting a brave face on it though."
Now if Michael had any knowledge of feelings he'd have described what he was feeling as guilt. Doogie's face didn't go pale it went grey. He'd hit home there.
"He's bullshitting you." Darcy called from the kitchen.
"Oh bugger. I forgot she was here." He looked back into his kitchen. "Haven't you finished printing off those teaching materials yet?"
Darcy called back.
"Typical man. First he doesn't give you flowers and then as soon as he gets what he wants he's kicking you out. I finished the school stuff ages ago. I'm doing mine now."
"Well missy thanks to that I'm never not buying you flowers again."
"I'll cope. Will you still give me money though?"
"I can't rule it out. I might need to bribe you again. I'm putting you on notice though."
The three men made their way into the kitchen where Darcy gave Doogie a hug and did the cheek kiss thing that indicated something or other. Michael was never sure. About anything really, but that specifically. It was very complicated to him. Did you do an air kiss? Did you do an actual kiss? How many of them did you do? It was a minefield he had no wish or intention to traverse.
"Is there any chance I can join you?" Darcy asked.
"You ever shot skeet before?" Doogie replied.
"No. I've used my dad's handgun though. Only at the range and in the woods."
"No worries. I'll show you the basics. You'll pick it up in no time."
"I haven't got a shotgun though."
"We've got plenty. Some of them are even legal and licensed."
"Is this going to get competitive?" She mused.
"It sure as shit will now." Michael sighed. "How are we for ear defenders? I've got a spare set."
"All covered." Doidge answered. "We set up two rigs at the top of our field. Orange clays, I likes the color they make when you hit them. Bit of a storm on the way but it won't be here till tomorrow."
"Are you sure?" Darcy queried. "The weather forecast said fine and sunny."
"Doidge is never wrong about the weather." Doogie explained. "He can smell rain two hours before it hits. I say smell but I've no frigging idea how he does it, and neither does he."
"I'm having second thoughts." Stated Michael.
"Christ mate. What's up now?" Darcy started giggling.
"I want it explained to Darcy, in no uncertain terms, that shooting me in the ass with a shotgun is nowhere near as funny as a paintball gun. A paintball gun manufactured in hell judging by the bruise."
"Really?" Darcy giggled. "I think it would be even more hilarious."
"True." Doogie responded. "But we'd have to listen to him bitch about it for the rest of our lives. So Darcy, as a friend I'm asking you not to shoot Michael anywhere."
"Well that's filled me with confidence. I want you to know this though in the event that anything untoward happens to me I will be bitching nonstop and will continue to do so from beyond the grave. So, this inevitable competition that's about to take place, are we doing handicaps."
"There's no need Mikey." The Aussie slapped his back. "You've already got enough of em for everybody."

Judging by the way all the others laughed, Michael had to assume that was hilarious to. If only because he was out voted.