Dr. W. A. Frost's Ides of Revolution

  Jack looked down at his phone, with his typical cocky smirk. Yeah, Musky Jack was back, but he wasn’t exactly finished. He was only getting started. He needed his crew back: Palms, Leon, and Ollie. With a chuckle, he dials and kicks back. The person answers the phone, and Jack wastes no time. With the shadiest voice and tone, he lures the person into a sense of excitement, daring him with his hypnotic tongue to meet him at the park at dawn. Hanging up, he knows all to well what’s about to transpire. Out of his backpack Jack pulls out a well worn pair of Nike AF1s. He puts the ratty old sneaker against his face and inhales the scent of his old pal Ollie. Soon, he’ll be kicking it with Ollie in person! — George looks at the coordinates on his phone. He’s in the right spot. He sits against a rock, giddy with excitement. He finally is gonna be recognised as a pro skater. Never mind all those douches that said otherwise, calling him a poser. So what if he can’t kick flip or shred a half p

Franco moved into my house this morning. He was tall, and all muscular, the typical bad boy type. An all-American rebel. I had no issues with him. Frankly, I thought he was cute. Though, I’m gay, and he’s clearly straight… oh, and I’m dead. Yeah, I died a few months ago here in the house. Its not so bad, I got to people watch the prospective buyers and scare off the ones I didn’t like. Franco, though, I liked. He was fresh out of Miami, Cuban, and was looking for a bartending job here in town. He got a steal at my place. So, he had his stuff moved in, and was left to unpack it himself. Little did he know he had a housemate. I had flown around, observing him throughout the day, watching him smoke, lift heavy boxes with those meaty arms, beat one out watching some porn in the bathroom… He was just so sexy. So manly. I wanted so badly to be him. I waited patiently for him to come back on his vintage black Harley, I knew my payout would be great.  He came in, throwing his keys onto the tab