Arnold's Various Writing Projects

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ArnoldtheRubberDucky
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Arnold's Various Writing Projects

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Here's a story I started writing a couple weeks ago and finished today:

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that genius comes in many forms. One of the most popular is the “mad scientist” stereotype: unruly white hair and labcoat to match, thin-rimmed glasses perched at the nose, and an eccentric personality, always a test tube in hand. Truly I say to you, Dr. Howard Q. Montgomery must have been the ultimate manifestation of the “mad scientist”. The man was 86 years old (87 this coming Monday), and he couldn’t stop moving. That isn’t to say he jogged every day, or went to the gym, or played sports with his grandchildren. In fact, his form of movement was something he could barely control: pacing. The funny thing about pacers is they’re obsessive about it, I suppose in the same way people who sit all the time are obsessive about sitting. I suspect most of them are barely aware that they’re doing it. It’s just their lifestyle. Montgomery was aware that he did it, if only because everyone he met would always let him know when he was doing it. A simple fact of life: pacers often aggravate non-pacers. Perhaps they’re just jealous. Surely, almost every 87-year-old in town was jealous of Dr. Montgomery’s constant movement and complete indifference to the state of his health. Really though, the term “Dr.” is a bit misleading. Howard Montgomery was not a doctor, at least not an official one. He was just always called one because the people he knew had no other way to classify him. He certainly wouldn’t tolerate anyone addressing him as “Mr.” or “Sir”. In his mind, he never felt he deserved it. In fact, the only thing he or anyone else felt he actually deserved was his teenage grandson. A bright yet mischievous boy, Max Montgomery had been his grandfather’s constant companion and accomplice ever since his parents had died and he had gone to live with his boring aunt and uncle, who had no idea what to do with him and sent him to his grandfather whenever they could. Dr. Montgomery often pretended to dislike his grandson so he would leave him alone while working, but secretly, he felt a deep affection for the boy, a deep affection he hadn’t felt towards anyone since his very late wife. Perhaps that’s why Max Montgomery was constantly given the role of Dr. Montgomery’s test subject for his “experiments”. They never seemed to work. The experiments, I mean. There was always one wrong calculation in the science, one wrong ingredient in the chemistry, and by the time Dr. Montgomery was aware of the problem, he had already moved on to another experiment. I suppose that’s the way of a creative genius: they always have too many ideas bottled up inside them and can’t stick with one. Several of Dr. Montgomery’s more famous failed experiments include, but are not limited to: anti-gravity powder, atomic jelly, the dental floss chair, and flavored rubber. Every one of them had potential, but Dr. Montgomery didn’t have patience. Dr. Montgomery’s failures also had a tendency to come at the expense of Max, who was beginning to grow tired of his grandfather’s eccentricity. His aunt and uncle were always afraid Dr. Montgomery would inadvertently hurt the boy through one of his “experiments”. They had nothing to fear. If Dr. Montgomery could be described in one word: harmless. At least, that’s what Max thought.
One day, Max came over to the “lab”, such as it was. Obviously, there was nothing unusual about this. Max would accompany his grandfather through the amazing world of science at least one a week, at most every other day. What was somewhat unusual were the peculiar circumstances surrounding his visit. Despite the fact he had not been in the lab all week, Dr. Montgomery had not invited him. In fact, when Max called his grandfather to inform him he was coming over, Dr. Montgomery brusquely told Max not to bother; he was working on a new project, and his grandson’s services would not be necessary. A slightly hurt Max hung up the phone and accepted his grandfather’s words. For a little while. Perhaps it was his severe boredom (there was almost nothing to do at his aunt and uncle’s after school), or his ever-present mischievous streak getting to him. Either way, he resolved to make a trip to Dr. Montgomery’s lab after school, whether he was wanted or not.
In fairness to Dr. Montgomery, he had a fairly good reason to not want Max around. This particular experiment he was working on was, in his own words, “the most important work of my career”. He didn’t need a reckless teenager around to potentially mess it up. He also didn’t need a guinea pig for the experiment. It would be such an exciting development in science (if it worked) that Dr. Montgomery himself had opted to become the guinea pig. Besides, he wasn’t even sure Max would want to be the guinea pig, given his mischievous personality and the nature of the experiment. Yes, it was much better if Dr. Montgomery took this experiment into his own hands. It was much better for everyone.
Meanwhile, Max was sneaking in through the back door of the laboratory. Dr. Montgomery kept his work place and his house separate, so Max hardly ever visited his home. But if the expression “home is where the heart is” is true, than surely Dr. Montgomery’s work place was his home and his home was his workplace. He had a bed installed in a dusty corner of the lab in case his work continued long into the night. He always had to drive Max home by nine, a simple rule that annoyed him greatly: his mind was always set on his work and as such he couldn’t drive properly. He would rather Max simply sleep in his pathetic excuse for a guest bedroom, which in reality was just an inflatable bed in a corner, but his aunt and uncle wouldn’t have it. Still, no matter how irksome Max was to his grandfather, he would never get cranky and deny his grandson a visit to the lab. Never, apparently, until now.
Max swung the back door open slowly and stepped into the lab cautiously. He could see his grandfather’s back turned to him. He was sitting in his favorite spot, that is, a bright red swivel chair. Max approached him quickly and confidently. When Dr. Montgomery was working, his ears were immune to all outside noises. Max knew that no matter what he did, his grandfather would never be genuinely angry with him, so it was without fear that the grandson slapped the grandfather on the back amiably as he finally strode into view. Dr. Montgomery did not appear the least bit startled by the gesture, which surprised Max. The old man continued polishing his test tube, not wasting a glance on his obnoxious grandson.
“Grandpa,” Max murmured.
“Yes?” replied Dr. Montgomery, still averting Max’s eyes.
“I want to know what you’ve been working on.”
“Really now.”
“Yes.”
“It’s nothing of your concern.”
“I think it is.”
Suddenly, Dr. Montgomery turned around and rose from his chair, facing his grandson head-on.
“Well, that’s what you get for thinking, isn’t it, my boy?” he said jovially.
“Just tell me, you useless old geezer!” Max stamped his foot in mock anger, knowing full well his grandfather was trying to make him upset and was planning on telling him very soon.
The old man lowered himself back into his chair and turned once again away from his grandson.
“Well, all right,” he said, somewhat bemusedly. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Of course it wouldn’t,” his grandson replied coldly.
Dr. Montgomery stretched back in his chair and began his story.
“You see, it’s something I’ve had on my mind for quite some time but haven’t had the knowledge to do.”
“And now you do?” his skeptical grandson said.
“That’s right. I’ve been a failure for as long as I can remember. This could be my last real chance at success.”
“So… what is it?”
In an abrupt movement quite impressive for an old man, Dr. Montgomery wheeled his chair around, facing his grandson yet again.
“A pill,” he muttered, stroking his chin in a very grandfatherly fashion. Then, in an equally abrupt motion, he hoisted himself out of his chair and began to pace around the room. Max liked to watch him pace. There was a beautiful routine to his movements; he had a pacing route he followed every time without even realizing it. And he always talked while he paced, which made it difficult for the person he was talking to to talk back. Max didn’t even try.
“A pill that could very well save the fate of mankind. You see, my boy, man has come a long way on this planet. He’s tamed beasts, constructed buildings to compete with the most magnificent of natural wonders, invented computers and gone to space. We should all be proud of that. But the one thing man has never been able to conquer is the one thing that drives him to accomplish all this: his nature. Truly I say to you now, the nature of man is what’s holding us back in these times of progress. Eliminate war, poverty, and crime, and we can all focus our attention on efforts more beneficial to the evolution of man. But we can’t. At least, not until we change the nature of man. You see, my boy, man is basically evil. People have denied this simple fact of life for generations, but the history books prove me right. Look at all the monsters of history who tried to bend the rules of right and wrong to their advantage. No matter how much we may want peace and love and equality, we’re never going to get it… until we change the nature of man. And my little pill can.”
Suddenly, Max made the decision to speak.
“What are you talking about, Grandpa?”
“What am I talking about? What am I talking about? My boy, I am talking about… The Good Pill.”
“The Good Pill?”
“The Good Pill. It’s really not a very clever name, but then again, scientists have always been terrible at naming things. But that’s beside the point. The Good Pill, through some scientific jargon that you would never understand, manipulates a man’s very soul so that he will have no more evil in his nature. Instead, it will accentuate all the good aspects of a man’s soul.”
“But who decides the difference between good and evil?”
Dr. Montgomery stopped pacing to give his grandson a disgusted look.
“Why, as the creator of The Good Pill, I do. Imagine it: a new world where I will be the judge over all men. They will have to submit to my view of good and evil.”
“But what is your view of good and evil?”
“Why, the best one! No murder, no thievery, no selfishness, no taking advantage of people, and no hostile feelings towards anyone and anything. The one who takes The Good Pill will feel at peace with the world.”
“But have you tested it?” Max asked testily.
“Well, sure.”
“On who?” He was skeptical now.
“On… well, to be honest… certain species of rats have reacted very positively to the pill.”
“Rats?”
“Yes, rats. I turned two bickering, quarreling rats into absolute saints.”
“But rats don’t have souls!”
“Ah, on the contrary, my dear boy. Rats, in fact, have the second largest souls in the entire animal kingdom.”
“Next to humans?”
“Of course not! Next to mosquitoes.”
“So you haven’t actually tested this pill on any humans?”
Dr. Montgomery became defensive.
“Well, no. I mean, it was far too early in the process – I, I hadn’t worked out all the kinks yet… what I mean to say is. – ahem.” Suddenly the old man got a wild look in his eyes. “Not yet.”
Max was unmoved.
“Oh, really. Who’s the lucky guinea pig?”
Suddenly Max’s grandfather burst out laughing – a good hearty laugh that could easily become contagious.
“Why, you, of course, my dear boy!” Dr. Montgomery chortled. “Are you really this naïve? Who else do you think I’d get to perform such a task?”
“Heck, I don’t know. Maybe… you?”
Suddenly the old man became grave.
“Well, I considered that. In fact, I was fully intending to until I woke up this morning and my joints hurt me like they never have before. It was then that it hit me that I couldn’t this. I’m old and I’ve had my fun. Any side effects that come with the pill could be fatal to my old body.”
“And they wouldn’t be fatal to my young body?”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed, now back to his happy go-lucky self. “Now… when can we get started with the experiment?”
For a split second, Max thought of protesting. He came up with all kinds of excuses in his head: ‘It’s too dangerous’, ‘It won’t work’, ‘It’s a stupid idea anyway’, ‘Why don’t you just retire, Grandpa?’. But deep down, he knew that arguing with his grandfather was completely pointless. Besides, the experiment might be fun.
“Right now, I guess,” Max said, with a irreverent shrug of the shoulders.
“Excellent! I have all the necessary equipment right here,” he explained, gesturing to a blindingly white table cluttered with a scientist’s most precious possessions. Max didn’t know what on earth half of the “equipment” his grandfather stockpiled was supposed to be used for, but Dr. Montgomery insisted that everything he kept had been used or was going to be used in the future. Max wasn’t so sure.
“Um… grandpa? How much of this junk are we actually going to use?”
“Why, all of it! Every last scrap, my boy.” Dr. Montgomery gave his grandson a puzzled look, as if it was an incredibly stupid question that didn’t deserve to be asked. “Here. Put these goggles on. You’ll need them.”
He handed Max a pair of foggy science goggles, the kind you’d use to make yourself look important, as if you were doing something dangerous.
“And the gloves.”
Max was familiar with this process. There was rarely any real need for the goggles and the gloves, but Dr. Montgomery had a very heartfelt belief that a scientist was naked without them. Max played along as usual and put on the elastic gloves.
“And finally… the labcoat.”
Dr. Montgomery had a special reverence for his labcoat that didn’t make any sense to Max. Perhaps one of his scientist friends had died while wearing it or something. There was a large cursive M engraved onto the front of the coat; it stood for “Montgomery”, but it could just as easily stand for “Max”, so lately Max had taken to wearing it instead of his grandfather, as it fit him better anyway. Dr. Montgomery observed his glorious creation with pride. He seemed to get lost in the wonder of his grandson dressed as a scientist for a moment: his eyes glazed over and he stared at Max for a full minute before snapping back to reality. Once the old man himself got suited up, it was time to show Max the pill.
“Here it is, my boy. My greatest creation.” Dr. Montgomery drew a small test tube out from within the clutter and handed it gingerly over to Max. He appeared to have memorized its position.
Max had to admit it was a moment of extreme anticlimax. The pill was not oddly shaped, it was not a strange color, it did not have any mark of any kind to differentiate it from other pills, and, as he found out when he tasted it, it was not flavored in any particular way. It was white, smooth, and oval-shaped. That was all.
“I spent weeks coming up with that vintage look. What do you think?”
“It’s certainly… vintage,” Max said.
“Yes, well, thank you very much, it’s quite the achievement, I suppose I’m just too modest, it’s really quite a beautiful creation, I’d love to stay and tell you about it, but go on… take a bite.” He said these last three words five times as slow as the previous 34 for dramatic effect. It was actually quite a stupid thing to say, for as you know pills can not and should not be taken in bites. I suspect Dr. Montgomery was slightly delirious at this point. He was obviously eager to see his grandson swallow his masterpiece, so Max decided not to keep him waiting. He unscrewed the cap and dumped the pill into his mouth, without stopping to concern himself with taste or texture. His grandfather applauded and began his pacing route again.
It may surprise you to know that the pill worked at once. After he swallowed it, Max immediately felt a sharp pain from deep within his chest, which both he and Dr. Montgomery now believe was the pain that comes with one’s soul being ripped in half. The pain was so intense that Max passed out. Fortunately, Dr. Montgomery was not so delirious as to forget to catch his grandson. The second he saw Max’s body lean backwards, he leaped forward and caught his grandson in his weak old arms.
Now, you and I both know that Max did not just fall to his death; it would be extremely stupid of me to kill off the main character in the middle of a story with only two real characters. But Dr. Montgomery, not being familiar with the concept of good plotting, did not know this and immediately assumed that the pill had killed his grandson. In a simple action very uncharacteristic of a mad scientist, he began to weep uncontrollably over his grandson’s limp body. Dr. Montgomery, for all his scientific knowledge, was at heart not a very bright man, so, in his distress, he didn’t even bother to check if Max’s heart was still beating. It was.
Dr. Montgomery wept over Max for another 15 minutes before finally accepting his death as an unfortunate turn of events and taking up the task of finding another person to test the pill. He searched for nearly an hour, but found no one, and by the time he stumbled back into his lab, Max had woken up. Dr. Montgomery rushed to him.
“Max! Max! I’m so sorry! I thought you were dead! I was just going out to get a replacem- well, never mind. The important thing is your okay.” He nuzzled his grandson affectionately, which perturbed Max and caused him to bolt away. “Did – did the pill work? I mean… you are okay, aren’t you? How do you feel? What do you remember?”
“The pain – terrible pain, and then… light.”
“Light?” Dr. Montgomery asked eagerly.
“Light.”
“Hmm… light. Do you suppose it means something?”
“I think it means…” Max paused to find words. “I think it means I’m a changed man. For the better. Your pill worked, grandpa. I feel no hostility towards anyone. Everything is good.”
“Excellent, my dear boy, excellent! Come, let me hug you.”
“Um… alright.”
As grandfather and grandson shared an awkward embrace, there were things going on inside Max’s head. It was true that the pill had worked – marvelously, in fact – but something wasn’t quite right. Max struggled to remember a word he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He suspected it had something to do with the pill and the feelings it was supposed to take away. He nearly cried out in frustration when he could not remember the word.
For the sake of the reader, I will say that the best word I can come up with to describe the word Max was searching is: sin. He seemed to have had any thoughts of sinful behavior eradicated from his mind when he took the pill. Not only that, but he could not even think of any examples of other people sinning. Suddenly, the knowledge of sin seemed a very desirable thing to Max. He broke away from his grandfather and told him, in a polite sort of voice:
“Grandpa, ever since I took the pill, I’ve had something on my mind.”
“What’s that, lad?”
“Well, there’s a word. A word I can’t quite put my finger on. I think it’s what the pill was supposed to take away. Do you think you could tell me what it is?”
Dr. Montgomery straightened his glasses with a worried expression on his face. He seemed annoyed and confused, as if his guinea pig was ruining the success of the experiment by asking such stupid questions so soon. Still, he was not in such a foul mood as to deny his little miracle an answer, so he did the best he could.
“Why, sure, my boy. The pill you took was supposed to take away all feelings of – well, what am I doing explaining this to you? Weren’t you just talking about hostile feelings?”
“Well, yes, but I’m not even quite sure what that word means: hostile. It sounds very ugly and terrible, but I feel as though I just spewed it out in the moment like a computer without stopping to think what it means. And now that I do think about it, I haven’t the slightest idea what it means. And I want to know, Grandpa. It’s going to kill me if I don’t find out!”
He threw a mini temper tantrum until his grandfather had to restrain him. There was a different look in his eyes, Dr. Montgomery noticed. They were paler than usual. His grandfather had no doubt it was from the pill, as his skin had taken on a similar shade. He looked almost like an albino, which scared Dr. Montgomery. But then he remembered that white was the color of innocence and goodness, so it made sense that someone who had been stripped of all evil and impurity should turn white. He relaxed and answered his grandson with an unusually calm demeanor.
“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he consoled Max. “You’ll learn about all those things in good time.” It was a lie. Dr. Montgomery was never planning on telling Max about evil and impurity and sin. Never, in his life. Those were all the things the Good Pill was supposed to take care of. To tell Max about those things now would be undoing all that the Good Pill had done. But, since Max seemed genuinely upset about it and Dr. Montgomery assumed this was just a passing phase that would wear off once Max had gotten used to the pill, he fed him lies. And Max believed him.
“Alright, grandpa. I know you know what’s best for me. Perhaps I’ll find out myself anyway.” Dr. Montgomery sincerely hoped not, but he wisely didn’t voice his opinion.
Max gave a low yawn that indicated, to Dr. Montgomery at least, that, despite the fact that it was only 6 o’clock, it was time for him to go to bed, and he should sleep in the lab, never mind what his aunt and uncle might say. Surely it was better than him coming home and blathering on to his confused uncle about his obsession with uncovering the meaning of sin; or worse: his uncle tells him what sin is. Either way, Dr. Montgomery would find an excuse. Secretly, he was hoping Max would forget all about sin after a good night’s sleep and would instead focus on the good effects of the Good Pill. Ultimately, he was wrong, but that night at least, Dr. Montgomery considered himself and his pill to be a smashing success.
“Tired, are you?” he asked Max cheerfully.
“Not really, I –“
“Oh, nonsense, your eyes are drooping. Off to bed with you. How does sleeping in the lab tonight sound, my boy?”
“Fine, Grandpa. Just fine,” Max replied drowsily.
“Excellent! I’ll get your sleeping quarters arranged.”
And Max went to sleep, while Dr. Montgomery remained in his lab until his bedtime, ten o’clock, working and thinking, about many things.

The next morning, Dr. Montgomery rose bright and early while Max reveled in his twelfth hour of sleep. When his grandfather finally burst into the room with a foghorn in hand, Max reluctantly awoke, but still felt tired. He suspected the pill had drained some of the life out of him and he would need more sleep from now on. Dr. Montgomery noticed it too and made a note of it as one of the many things he would have to fix for the revised pill he would hopefully finish that night.
“I’ll have to leave you alone for a bit, my boy. I have to pick up some wine to deliver to my sister. Poor old thing… she’s in a mental hospital at the moment. Don’t ask me why she needs alcohol to kill the only brain cells she’s got left, but… she asked for it and I like to help her out when I can.”
“Don’t worry about me, grandpa. I’ll be alright.”
Dr. Montgomery stole one last look at his grandson before he left. There was something wrong with the boy. It was his eyes again… they just didn’t look natural. Dr. Montgomery brushed it off, making a secret vow to find out what exactly was wrong with the pill and fix it immediately.
“Is something wrong, grandpa?” Max asked innocently.
“Wrong? Why, nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all! Just… don’t touch anything!”
He gave a nervous laugh and practically ran out the door.
Max, finally given some privacy, took the opportunity to peruse through his grandfather’s extensive library. Most of it consisted of books full of scientific jargon that Dr. Montgomery barely understood himself. Max was searching for a book that would reveal to him the knowledge he had been missing since the pill fell down his throat. He was trying to find a fiction book; he figured scientific books don’t normally go over the nature of man, but fiction books do, or at the very least, they could give him some insight into the mysterious concept his grandfather wouldn’t tell him about.
Max searched in vain for nearly half an hour. When he heard his grandfather’s footsteps approaching the door, he hurriedly returned the book he was reading to its proper place on the shelf. He had a feeling Dr. Montgomery wouldn’t appreciate him perusing through just any book in his library.
“So… what have you been up to, my boy?” Dr. Montgomery asked, but not before bursting through the door with two bottles of wine in hand.
“Nothing much,” Max replied, as innocently as possible.
“Well… I hope you haven’t been too bored. I got the wine, anyway.”
He set the wine on the floor tenderly and retreated into his study. Max watched him alternate between conducting experiments at his desk in a relatively calm manner and frantically pacing about the room, muttering who knows what to himself, for the rest of the day. Max himself had nothing to do and nowhere to go: it was a Saturday. He was perfectly content to survey his grandfather’s behavior and see if any of it could possibly connect to the mystery he was trying to solve. As far as Max could tell, it didn’t, and it made for an extremely uneventful day until around dinnertime, when Dr. Montgomery suddenly burst out of his office with a triumphant look on his face he was trying (and failing) to suppress.
“Well, my boy, I do believe I’ve perfected our little pill. It’s not conclusive, of course, but I can give it to you to make sure the side effects go away,”
“You mean… right now?” Max said.
“Why, yes. Unless –“
“In the morning would be much better,” he said hurriedly.
Dr. Montgomery looked disappointed. “Well, all right. I mean, if you want… You’re the guinea pig, after all,” he assured Max with a nervous laugh.
“The guinea pig could really use some sleep.”
Dr. Montgomery’s disappointment turned to outright worry. “Sleep? But, it’s only five-thirty. I mean, surely you’d like some dinner or something –“
“I believe drowsiness is one of the side effects you supposedly fixed with this improved pill.”
“Why, of course. All the more reason to swallow it right now.”
“But I want to sleep.”
“As I said, it’s your decision. I, meanwhile, will resume my pacing routine.”
It must be said that Max had no real intention of sleeping, at least not yet. He was going to seize this opportunity by the horns and continue reading his grandfather’s books. He quickly stole one off the shelf while Dr. Montgomery wasn’t looking and took it to his bed. Once he realized the book he had grabbed was useless and his grandfather had retreated into his study, he snatched up all the books he could fit in his arms. Knowing full well that his grandfather would never care enough to check on him in the night, he knew he could read all night long in privacy. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.
He arranged the books on the bed in a random order and attempted to narrow down the books that might give him the information he needed. There was a book on botany (probably not too helpful, he decided after reading the back cover), a children’s story that most certainly did not belong in Dr. Montgomery’s library but was there nonetheless (even less helpful), the “B” volume of an encyclopedia (it could be useful, but it was so long he figured there was little chance he’d find what he was looking for), several volumes that informed the reader of obscure scientific facts Max cared nothing about, and a couple more novels Max would begin that night.
The last book, however, was far more intriguing than all the rest combined. It had only two words printed on the cover: HOLY BIBLE. Max was familiar with the Bible, as his aunt and uncle had encouraged him to go to Sunday School despite the fact that they themselves weren’t very religious at all (they seemed to think it would be good for him). His grandfather openly discouraged religion, so he could not think of a reason why he would keep a Bible in his home. Then he noticed something most disturbing: the Bible was glued shut. Perhaps it was given to his grandfather as a present, and not wanting to read it but also not wanting to offend the person, he simply glued it shut. But why would Dr. Montgomery go to all that trouble when he could simply not read the Bible? Besides, Max’s grandfather was never in the least bit concerned about offending anyone. Perhaps it was an accident that the Bible was glued shut. But the job was so thorough it was difficult for Max to believe that explanation.
He racked his brains for some reasonable explanation, and when he couldn’t find one, he desperately tried to recall his Sunday School lessons. He could remember some of the stories from the strange book and mapped them out in his head, but there were some things his mind couldn’t seem to grasp. There was a big story missing. Something towards the beginning. Max went through the beginning of the Bible in his head: God created the universe in a week. He made man last, and, when man became lonely, he made woman. And then… something happened. He felt the frustrating sensation of having something stored in your brain and not being able to retrieve it. He finally decided to abandon his idea of reading all night and simply ask his grandfather about the glued Bible and the parts he couldn’t remember from it.
He approached him with confidence, for, being unaware of any sin, he felt that Dr. Montgomery would tell the truth at all costs. He found his grandfather slouched over in his armchair, with one empty and one half-empty wine bottle on the desk.
“Umm… grandpa?”
“Yes, my boy?” Dr. Montgomery answered groggily.
“I’m – I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“What?” Max could tell there was something wrong with him, and he suspected it was the wine.
“Um… wasn’t that wine supposed to be for your sister?”
“My sister?”
“Yes, your sister. You know… your mother’s daughter?”
“I dunno what you’re talking about,” he muttered in a dark voice Max had never heard him use before.
“Look, I think I should just put the rest of this wine up so we can talk normally and I can ask you about –“
“No!” Dr. Montgomery lunged forward the moment he saw Max move toward the wine. He wrenched the bottle from his grandson’s hands and took another hearty gulp.
You see, Max had never known of his grandfather’s alcoholism. No one really had. Dr. Montgomery drank almost exclusively at night. If people ever saw him coming out of a store with some alcoholic beverage, he would often say he was delivering the alcohol to someone, usually a family member. He usually used the names of legitimate family members, in case some nosy person decided to investigate his claims, but it’s safe to say he had never delivered any alcoholic drinks to anyone but himself.
Max, oblivious to the concept of drunkenness, at first did not know what was happening. His grandfather’s maniacal attempts to grab the bottle from Max left him even more confused. Thus, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t make one last valiant attempt to rob his grandfather of his nearly empty wine bottle. And it was a valiant attempt indeed. So valiant, in fact, that when Max yet again lunged for the wine bottle clutched lovingly in his grandfather’s hands, Dr. Montgomery, in his drunken state, became extremely annoyed with his grandson, and proceeded to punch him in the nose (and he packed quite a punch for an old scientist).
Max staggered back, mouth hung open in utter shock. It was the first time he had experienced pain, at least pain inflicted upon him by another human, since he had taken the Good Pill. And it ripped his soul apart, just as the Good Pill had ripped his soul apart. He became aware of all the evils in this world: war, slavery, sickness, poverty, and the Seven Deadly Sins. The realization hit him so hard that he almost passed out. He remembered the story of Adam and Eve and the forbidden fruit instantly, and he couldn’t help but feel angry at Adam for bringing all these things into the world. He was equally angry at his grandfather: for getting drunk, lying to him, and most of all for punching him. All the anger, all the guilt, and all the sadness ripped a good bit of the newfound goodness in his soul right out. He tried to scream, but it wouldn’t come out. He could only watch his pathetic grandfather drooping over as he finished off his wine.
The possibility of taking the Good Pill again certainly flashed in his mind, but he knew his curiosity of all things evil would get the better of him. Still, despite his misery, he resolved to try the new and improved Good Pill in the morning, if only because it was the only flicker of light he had left.
He now drifted off to sleep, thinking of deadly curiosity and knowledge it’s better not to have, waking up to a sober grandfather and a worried aunt and uncle, and giving the Good Pill one last chance in the morning. And just before he slipped into a beautiful sleep where he didn’t have to ponder any of these things, one last thought flashed in his mind: He would very much like to read the Holy Bible. Yes, the Holy Bible, the whole thing, tomorrow morning, this time with its pages wide open.

I just read over the whole thing for the first time and I have to say I'm not completely satisfied with it, but I can't quite put my finger on why. The only huge flaw that I noticed was it could sometimes be a little rushed, but I'm not quite sure exactly how to fix this, and I feel like I'm missing some other minor flaws, so I could sure use some advice from the more talented SS writers. I thank you for bearing with me in my literary struggles. :D
Last edited by ArnoldtheRubberDucky on Sat Jan 03, 2015 9:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sir Arnold, Knight of the Order of Augustine, Debate Vampire
Mr. Yorp wrote:You don't need a degree to shovel manure.
Mickey
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Ok this is so good I hope your not done!

I [this is my opinion] like them shorter it's not so hard on my eyes!. I think you should add more characters, maybe leave the 'lab'?
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