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I Am Clever


A Fine Line - Between Chaos and Creation

Everybody seems to think I'm lazy; I don't mind, I think they're crazy...

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A Story!!!!!
I Am Clever
Thought I'd post this... be forewarned, it is still under construction, but I am trying to finish it as fast as I can.

Real-Life Tommys
by alec_towser

Chapter 1

September 12, 1972

Pete lay down on his bed in the small house that he & the other members of the former Who shared. He closed his eyes & let his mind wander. It had been5 years now. 5 long, hard-worked years. As he thought, & went back through the years, he thought of the glory days, when the Who were known as 'the loudest band on Earth'. It had all started so innocently, & yet... it had ended so tragically.

* * * * * * *

It had all started the day the Who had appeared on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour & pulled the now-legendary 'My Generation' stunt.

Pete & John had switched places, as Pete wanted to destroy the amps on the other side, & then Keith had exploded his drums. After the explosion, it was discovered that John had lost his hearing from being in such close proximity to the blast. There had been no doubt of that at the time, as John had said that he couldn't hear anything. Over the next few weeks, his hearing hadn't improved, & they had been told that John was (in all likelihood) deaf for life.

Roughly a month & a bit after John's 'accident', they had discovered that Keith had been suffering eye problems & severe headaches for a while. Then they had had a photo shoot,& the flashes from the cameras only made it worse. The next day, Keith found that he was blind. The doctor had confirmed that it was permanent because he hadn't had his eyes treated properly in time. If he had told the others or gone to see someone earlier, the doctor said his eyes could have been saved, albeit he would have had to wear glasses.

By this time, the Who's popularity was starting to drop steadily, & they were slowly losing money & getting into legal problems. They were all starting to really worry about how they were going to get along, seeing as only 2 of the members were intact & able to play (or sing).

Pete had gotten into a car accident a month later & had lost the use of his legs permanently. He had been hit, ironically, by a driver who was too high to know where he was, & subsequently, all of the Who had sworn off all drugs & most alcohol.

Then, the final blow had come.

* * * * * * *

It was a week before Christmas, 1967. Roger had gone out to see one of his friends. They had agreed to meet at a bar, & they had been talking amiably for a while. Then, a gang of 6 or 7 beefy-looking punks (who rather resembled a group of Hell's Angels) came in, looking for a fight. When they started threatening a young girl, Roger went over to try & get them to stop. One of the punks (the leader) whipped out a switchblade & held it up to Roger's neck, now intent on menacing him.

"I know you," he growled out, backing Roger up to the wall. The rest of the gang surrounded Roger & the leader, making any kind of escape impossible. The rest of the bar patrons had scattered quickly, including Roger's friend.

"I know you," the leader repeated, enjoying the look of barely-disguised fear on Roger's face. "You're the singer guy for that band that likes to destroy things. You stole my bird."

"What? I-" Roger started, but he was cut off by the knife digging into the side of his neck & drawing blood. "I didn't mean to, but-"

The leader dealt Roger a blow to the temple, causing stars to appear & his head to ache. "I don't care if you didn't mean to, pretty boy, you still do it, don't you? You & that band." The last word was spit out, as though it were something dirty. "You all do it. & it doesn't stop with me, either. You do it to every girl you come across. I think I'll fix you so you'll never steal what doesn't belong to you anymore. I'd fix your friends, but you're the only one here, so..." he trailed off, laughing.

By now Roger was terrified. He didn't know what they planned on doing to him, but whatever it was, it didn't sound good. As if he & the others didn't have enough on their hands already dealing with the legal furor that was surrounding the group, & helping Keith, John, & Pete to adjust to their new lives.

The leader seemed to be thinking of what exactly to do to Roger. He turned to another of the guys & asked, "What do you think we should do to the pretty boy, hmm?"

"I say we make him not so pretty," the goon laughed nastily.

Roger didn't want that to happen, so he ducked under the arms of several of the punks & tried to race out of the bar.

He had almost reached the door when a gang member appeared in his way. He changed direction, but another goon was blocking him. Roger looked & saw that he was being blocked in every direction. He turned behind him to see the leader approaching his slowly with a sadistic look on his face. Roger turned back, & took a step forward. The punks moved to gr ab him, & a hand impacted him solidly in the throat, making him fall to his knees.

Roger put his hands around his throat & coughed weakly, trying desperately to breathe. 2 of the guys grabbed Roger's shirt & pulled him up into a standing position. Roger didn't resist the hands this time, as he was still having a hard time catching his breath.

The leader leered in his face. "Shouldn't have done that, blondie." Roger noticed that the leader wasn't holding his knife anymore, & vaguely wondered where it was.

"Wha-what are you gonna do to me?" he said, his voice not much more than a whisper.

"I still haven't decided," the leader pretended to think. "But in the meantime, so's you don't get bored, here's a little something." He pulled his fist back, & slammed it into Roger's cheek, hard enough that it snapped Roger's head around & he tasted blood in his mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roger saw that the leader's knife was being held in a shaky grip by a very young man, probably the youngest one there. The expression on his face said that he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. The thought passed as Roger struggled in the arms that were holding him, & actually wriggled loose. He tried to run again, & several of the punks leaped to grab him, including the one with the knife.

The young man came up in front of Roger, & tried to grab him, but he missed & the knife slipped, impaling itself deep into Roger's throat. At the same time, an elbow was driven hard into Roger's side, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough. Roger screamed hoarsely & collapsed to the floor as he felt something tearing in his throat, losing consciousness as he did. The punks all backed up, seeing the blood that was flowing.

The leader grinned, bending down to inspect the wound, & declaring, "Lovely. We'll see if you get any more girls now." He laughed nastily, & yanked the knife out of the wound, causing the blood to flow even faster. With that, he left the bar. The rest of the gang followed after him without a second thought to the wounded man.

* * * * * * *

After they had left, the bartender crept back in from where he had been hiding outside. He saw Roger's slumped form on the floor, & the blood oozing out of the wound on his neck. He went white as a sheet, even as he ran for the nearest phone & dialed rapidly. He attempted to calm himself down as the phone rang, bellowing as soon as someone picked up, "Help! I've got a wounded man 'ere, & I think he's dying! I need an ambulance here FAST!"

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I love this! I don't know much about the 'Who' but I like this story, and there isn't anything to fix - cept' one thing that bugs me cause I'm a grammar freak. (Even thought I suck at it) The '&' instead of and. Other then that its friggin' great!

Tessa (Ettinger)

Thank you... I'll try to send you the next chapter asap. And since I've now gotten two votes to change the '&'s, I'm getting rid of them.

i really think you should change the & to and.

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