Author Archives: Raph

Review: “The Tempest” by The Blueprint Masquerades

By Raph al Guul

Despite my own departure from the group last summer, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for The Blueprint Masquerades; this is why this review, even more so than any other, could never be at all above suspicion of personal bias. But in the past years, no one has taken the time to review the premiere of The Blueprint Masquerades’ productions and so I will take this heavy duty upon myself as I finally have some distance from the very heart of their production cycles.

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The Song of Jimmy Doyle

By Raph al Guul

Prologue
I Blue Cars
II High Spirits
III Jimmy
IV Investment Plans
V Dinner
VI Afterparty
VII The Game
Epilogue

I wonder if yet to you it occurred:
A term like ‘winner’ is a funny word
For not all winners ever win the same:
Fortune, happiness, a medal, or fame;
Some may be winners even when they lose
For their loss is the victory they choose;
Lend me your ears so that I may express
A loser’s win with a tale of success;
And the outcome any way you could spin:
Tell me, did Jimmy lose or did he win?

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Wet Dreams

By Raph al Guul

They called it the ship of dreams, and it was. It really was. At least while it was above sea-level. And at night, when everyone was sleeping. To anyone who wasn’t too drunk to have any dreams. Daisy was neither sleeping nor drunk, no; she was currently shagging some dude she met two days ago, when she had a crazy fit and tried to fling herself off the back of said ship of dreams into the Atlantic ocean. His name was John or Jim, or something generic, and he had said some nice things to her that night. Daisy had low standards because no one ever said anything nice to her, so of course she immediately climbed back over the railing. Well, at least she tried, but she was one hell of a clumsy girl. John or Jim didn’t mind, though, because she was pretty hot. So he helped her fail her initial goal of finding the bottom of the ocean and immediately got accused of attempted rape afterwards by a bunch of people who thought that the prime directive of any rapist was to take off his shoes. After that misunderstanding was inadvertently cleared up, John or Jim – look, let s call him Frank for short – was left on the deck with two cigarettes (one of which he had been allowed to take, the other he just sort of took and no one said anything).

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Just Words

By Raph al Guul

“I’m sick of it.”
“Of what?”
“All of it, every little bit, every single thing, everyone, just sick to the core and of it all – the rain, the sun, the grinding noise of traffic beneath the kitchen window, the cunt at the cash register.”
“What did the cunt at the cash register do to you?”
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Soft Reset

By Raph al Guul

He didn’t know it, but it had all started with an unfortunate accident. A ceiling fan of all things had knocked him out. He didn’t remember it or anything before that.

Right now, all he knew was that in a vacuum, light travelled at a speed of 299,792,458 meters per second. Continue reading

Noisy Night

By Raph al Guul

They were pretty tired. The trip had not been pleasant, nor had it been fortunate. They were coming the whole way from Denver in a car so crappy, it frequently just broke down and forced Joe to get out and push it to the next gas station. His wife wasn’t much help; Marie was in her ninth month of pregnancy and he would never have dared putting any pressure on her. Joe was generally a bit of a pushover when it came to Marie. For starters, it wasn’t actually his kid that was growing in her womb – how could it have been, they had never even had sex. And sure, it sort of bothered Joe that his wife kept claiming she was still a virgin even after her pregnancy started to become noticeable, but he loved Marie too much to take enough issue with it. And so it was love that was to blame for how he ended up here, pushing forward a crappy old Buick that contained his pregnant wife from an unconsumed marriage, who had an extremely unconventional understanding of the term “virginity” and was on the verge of giving birth to his bastard child.

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First Sight

By Raph al Guul

I remember the first time I saw her; an ugly duckling with the ears of an elephant, nose of a pig, and a chin that is pretty much unrivaled in the animal kingdom. I have to admit that I thought she was absolutely ugly – the kind of person who photobombs even their own pictures just by being present. She seemed like someone who, instead of making an effort to stand out through beauty, probably had to make the same kind of effort not to stand out at all. And she wasn’t doing that good a job at it, I thought. Not that it should have bothered me much. I was at a friend’s party and he came over, introducing her as Clarissa. I didn’t even know why that was supposed to be of interest to me. He was acting as if I had come here just to meet some chick he knew from the college he was attending. I sipped on my beer and tried to nod in some sort of polite manner, hoping that it would be enough to conclude the encounter. Unfortunately, at that moment some more guests arrived and my “friend” immediately abandoned us. She smiled uncomfortably and I noticed that despite everything else, her teeth were actually quite pretty.

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