Taylor James: This is the beginning the beginning of the post

      The fan in his room turned in a subliminal fashion that would almost make you think of Hueys flying over Saigon, or some 20th century war zone. He stared at fearing that day, like all other days.  Around his bed various bottles had taken resident quite possibly out of necessity, quite possibly from a drinking binge, but most defintely because he could only afford a room that once was a recycling bin. It was funny how the universe worked, some people become fireman, others writers some actuallly become good at these career, but then their was Taylor he was an expert sandwich maker, a talent he was good at but who elsewould care.  He could have been a contender, but god, or nature had decided that putting various thing between to pieces of bread was his destiny.  No wonder he was an atheist, and a member of screw the wells.
 
  Their had been something else once upon a time, a time when some people appreciated his services, but that was always dashed on the rocks by the time Nick got there.
 
  Suddenly he was pulled from the abyss, his cell phone rang, "Yep." He said.
 
 The voice on the other end was crying like a jilted prom queen, "You gotta get here we got customers, and they waaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnt meeeeeeeeeeee tooooooo dance." The unscene person threw a tantrim, "There marines, she added."
 
 "Marines,"  He would have left her to the mob, but this sounded interesting.
 
 
OOC:Ok I red all the post for the last to months, I know theirs marines, I take responsibilty for my actions
 
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