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It's time to get Rezified. Well, not really. "Rezified" is just the name for my personal blog. My label's contract requires me to get one...

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A Ghost Named Emily

A Ghost Named Emily

By Anthony Romero

I watched the movers climb back into their truck and reversed out of my driveway. Once they drove down the street and out of sight, I was no longer a man who needed assistance with moving in to his new home; I was a man who was alone in his living room, secluded with his own thoughts and memories. I turned away from the window and stared at the stacks of memories trapped inside the cardboard boxes, waiting to be relived by no one else but me.

I dragged my feet over the wooden floor and watched my shadow; it did not look frightened, anxious, embarrassed, or insecure at all—not in the way that I am. It looked quite happy—happy to know that as long as the fireplace is still burning bright during the night, it will exist. Then it will die once the daylight breaks in through the windows only until the sun sets a and the moon and stars arise to dimly illuminate the night sky once again; then that will be the moment when I rekindle the fireplace again, to bring my shadow back to life.

Ever since the tragedies I’ve witnessed before my eyes, my shadow seemed to be the only person I talk to. Most of the time, I don’t pay attention to what I say to him, but I do know that I talk to him; he’s the only one who listens to me. And I knew that I’d end up talking to him once again as I started to dig through the boxes.

The first box I touched with my cold and fragile hands was on top of one stack next to the fireplace and was labeled on one of the sides with a word written in bold, black Sharpie: “PICTURES.” I lifted the box with ease—it should not have been labeled “PICTURES” at all; it should have been labeled “FEATHERS” instead.

I lay the box of feathers down on the wooden floor and positioned myself on my knees. I felt like a little kid on Christmas again, waiting to open the box to see what was in the box. I looked down at the short and rectangular box. My shadow looked down with me. I reached my hands to the flaps atop of the box and folded them outwards. It must’ve been Christmas again, because I was disappointed with the sight of what I saw—framed pictures were in substitution of the feathers that I had anticipated to throw in the fire. I reluctantly picked up one framed picture; it was when my parents and I were standing in front of the snake pit at the zoo when I was only six. My mom, my dad, and myself… We were all so happy, smiling for that frozen moment. Now we’re not smiling anymore.

I sobbed as I gripped the picture tight; I knew that this was something I could not throw in the fire. Why should I? I could sense my shadow mourning with me as I was hugging the picture, embracing that moment. I wiped my forearm across my teary eyes as I sniffled, finally feeling the heat radiate from the fireplace. I placed the picture back into the box and closed it, listening to the crackles and pops coming from the fireplace in front of me and watched it burn precariously. I needed to get away from the memories for a few, so I stood up and walked down the hall and into my bedroom.

My shadow died the moment I walked out of the light of the fireplace as it hid away into the pitch-blackness of the hall. At that moment, something convinced me that I was alone this whole time. I sat on the edge of my bed, mulling over life. Then I heard sobbing coming through the crack below the door; it sounded feminine, young and innocent and frightened all at the same time.

I looked around my room in darkness for any possible source; it wasn’t my shadow crying—that much is for certain as it wasn’t anywhere to be found. Then I wiped my eyes once more to make sure that I wasn’t the one sobbing without realizing it. I’ve finally convinced myself that I’ve gone insane as the crying wasn’t coming from anyone or anything or anywhere and that it was only coming from the abyss of my absent mind.

I managed to maintain my composure and stood up at once and sluggishly circled around my bedroom in pitch-blackness, hoping that the sobs from the unknown would just go away. Then I abruptly stopped pacing. Is it gone now? I thought. No… It’s still here. That damned cry for help was still audible to my deaf ears. At least there was something that wasn’t making the moment sound so depressingly silent.

As I crept up to the doorway, I could hear the cry gradually grow louder and louder. I stuck my head out of the doorway and looked left and right down the hall; it was rather quite dark. I could’ve been blind this whole time and I still wouldn’t have mistaken myself that a presence accompanied me—and it wasn’t my shadow’s presence I was feeling either. I clumsily felt the wall for the light switch. The moment I flicked the lights on was also the moment I was hoping my eyes were deceiving me; she was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, her elbows rested on her knees as her arms were folded. She cried into them as her weeps echoed down the hall. She definitely wasn’t there the first time I walked down the hall…

I stood there flabbergasted and frozen; as if I were posing for a sculptor as I was staring at her. Her pale skin complimented the rays of light bouncing off her skin and her face was buried in her lap. Her wavy brown hair draped over all sides of her head the way drapes would over blinds and windows.

I reached a hand out for her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, but failed as my hand went through her. I quickly pulled my hand out of the specter and stared at her, bewildered. For that moment, it felt as if I was reaching to grab something out of the freezer.

She wistfully lifted her head and looked at me. She looked at me as if she were waiting for me to have the first word of our encounter. I gazed at her, feeling the words freeze in my throat, as I was too shell-shocked to even speak a peep. I didn’t know what to say. Should a word even need to be spoken? I thought. She sniffled as she wiped her face with her hands. At last, she spoke, in a frail voice: “I want to start over.”

Finally, I was no longer hearing the voice of the deceased; I was hearing the voice of a weakling that still had an ounce of life left in her. Finally, I found the words to say. I said: “Me too.” Finally, I was no longer talking with a stranger; I was talking with a long-lost friend. Finally, I could comprehend the pain that was pouring out of her eyes; the pain that was sounding from her mouth like a fire alarm; I could feel her pain radiating like heat from the fireplace.

I knelt down in front of her as she was still sitting against the wall and looked at her dead in her hazel eyes.

“Why are you here?” she asked as she sniffled once more, finishing her question.

I laughed the question away with warmth. “I live here now,” I said with a slight grin.

She crossed her legs, unfolded her arms; she seemed to have finally found joy in the conversation.

“Why are you here?” I asked at once.

“I need to start over.” She paused and sighed. Then she continued, shaking her head: “I want to start over. I just want to start everything over. The last thing I remembered doing was writing a note—a note to my friends and family, that is. Then I rattled the orange bottle once more and poured out the remainder its contents in my hand… and then, as I could feel the contents traveling down my throat, I just thought to myself that everything is just water and it will go down smoothly. Next thing I knew, I found myself floating above my body—I was looking down on myself, lying on the floor with an empty bottle and a bottle cap next to it. Then I saw my mom rushing in; she was crying so loud. She yelled ‘Danny, Danny, come quick! Look at what our poor Emily did to herself!’”

She paused and looked down on the floor. Then she wiped her eyes again and continued once more: “I want to start over… I want to start over.”


“You’d have to live my life to know why. Besides, I’m dead to you.”

“But you’re not dead to me; I can see you still breathing.”

“But can you feel my pulse?”

“No… I couldn’t even touch you.”

“I want to start over. I want to know what it’s like to feel the touch of a human being again… I want to start over.”

“I want to start over, too, but can’t. I’m living here all by myself because life happened—I’m still wondering if life is still happening or if it’s already over for me. I wish certain things never happened to me—and them—and also I wish I can redo certain things, but can’t. It’s hard enough for me to live with the tragedies that I’ve witnessed before my eyes and the mistakes that I’ve made in the past; and now it’s even harder for just to get through the day. However, something tells me that if I continue breathing, I’ll live to see another day. I don’t know what will happen in that very next day, but I sure as hell will never trade the world for it. If I can do that, so can you; I still see some life left in you and I know you can pull through somehow.”

“That’s the thing; you never knew me.”

© Anthony Romero, 2013


"The Bird of Paradise"

She flies carelessly in the clouds of the night sky.

Every night, she's the shooting star that catches my eye.

Every time I make a stellar wish upon her, I wish for her to come back.

It's true that everyone loves her so.

The bird of paradise flies away from me.

The bird of paradise has set herself free.

I do believe in her.

Who can resist her besides a fool like me?

She flies with the other birds in the night sky.

Watching them from my birdcage brings tears to my eyes.

She's free now and loves who she desires to love.

I know that everyone loves her so.

If only I could fly with her...


We Apologize for the Inconvenience, but This Rezzy Leon Story Is Out of Order

By Anthony Romero

Chapter 1: "This sentence is out of order, this chapter is out of order, and this whole story is out of order!"

It’s another one of those not-so-typical days, as usual, and Rezzy and Tim are having lunch, eating wings and drinking Hawaiian Punch.

"I swear," Tim says as he opens his can of Hawaiian Punch. "Suzy really is working up my nerves today."

"How so?" Rezzy asks as he folds his arms.

"She keeps bugging me for 50 cents just so that she can get a soda out of that damn vending machine in the teacher's lounge."

"I thought the teacher's lounge is only for teachers, staff and student aids, though."

"Suzy IS a student aid. Someone needs to just write down "out-of-order" on a piece of paper and tape it onto the vending machine just so that she thinks it's broken or something. She sure as hell would stop bothering me then!"

Mylo then arrives to the lunch table to join Rezzy and Tim, stealing a wing off of Tim’s plate as he takes his seat.

"Sorry for my tardiness," Mylo says. "I had to calm down Johnny just now."

"What was Johnny all worked up for?" Rezzy questions.

"Eh... Mr. Willis confiscated his phone. I'd rather not talk about it. It wasn't a pretty sight."

"Johnny didn't put an "out-of-order" post-it note on his phone?" Tim asks.

"What the hell are you talking about, Tim?" Mylo responds.

"Please," Tim insists. "Allow me to explain. Rezzy, you recall me saying how I wish the vending machine in the teacher's lounge would have an "out-of-order" sign on it so that people would think it's broken, right?"

"Yeah," Rezzy responds. "You mentioned it not even a minute before Mylo came here just now. Also, were the air-quotes really necessary when you said "out-of-order?""

"Very. That's because the vending machine isn't really broken. Well, at least in my example, it wasn't."

"So...," Mylo says while licking his fingers, finishing the wing he stole from Tim's plate. "Where are you going with this, Tim?"

"What I'm trying to say is that if Johnny would've had a post-it note on his phone that read "out-of-order", then Mr. Willis would've thought that his phone was broken. Broken phones can never be confiscated."

"I call bullshit on that," Rezzy flouts.

"Yeah," Mylo concurs, "I'm actually with Rezzy on this one. I highly doubt that a post-it note will convince anyone that a phone is broken."

"Alright," Tim says as he digs through his backpack, taking out post-it notes. "Since you don't believe me, I'll prove it."

Tim then writes down “out-of-order” on a post-it note and slaps it onto his phone.

"I'll have this note on my phone for the remainder of the day, AND I'll even have my phone exposed in plain sight. It won't even be in any of my pockets, and I will prove to you that it will not be confiscated."

"I'll tell you what, Tim," Rezzy says. "You don't have to prove anything to us. Instead, why don't the three of us all bet and compete against each other with your whole "out-of-order" phone idea? We'll all have a sticky note on our phones that reads "out-of-order," and it MUST be in plain sight until the bet is over."

"I like that idea," Mylo says, "but how much are we exactly betting? My paychecks aren’t all that favorable, you know."

"Hm...," Rezzy thinks aloud. "$25 each sounds reasonable, doesn't it?"

"It does to me!" Tim exclaims. "Count me in, the bet is officially on!"

The three of them then shakes hands, beginning the bet as Rezzy and Mylo writes down "out-of-order" on a post-it note and puts it on their phones.

"We'll need a treasurer for the bet, though," Mylo mentions, "so that whoever loses has to give him/her $25 to hold onto just until the bet is over. When the bet is over, the treasurer will reward the winner his money!"

"But who will be treasurer?" Rezzy asks. "There are only three of us at this table, and we're all betting against each other."

Mary then walks up to the table, taking a seat.

"Whoa," she says. "What's with all of these post-it notes? Are we sharing answers for a big test or something? Anyways, Rezzy, may I have a word with you for a minute or two?"

"Mary," Rezzy says. "Can it wait? I'm in the middle of discussing a bet here."

"Yeah," Tim chimes in. "We're actually looking for someone to hold onto the money until the bet is over. Are you willing to do it?"

"Hm...," Mary hesitates. "I'll do it only if Rezzy's willing to text me next period about what I need to tell him."

"Fine," Rezzy bluntly responds. "I'll text you."

Next period arrives as Rezzy and Tim are seated in Mr. Bates' class, formerly Mr. Whirly’s. In the midst of Mr. Bates giving a lecture, Rezzy is texting Mary. Mr. Bates begins to pace around the classroom as he is speaking, walking pass Rezzy's desk. He then stops and looks down on him to freeze him with a stern stare.

"Oh!" Mr. Bates exclaims, holding his stare. "Rezzy, I know you're not texting in my class, are you? Let alone the fact that I'm giving a lecture, I'm quite curious about who you are texting. If Mr. Whirly were still here, I bet he'd be furious with you right now."

"Who?" Rezzy responds. "Me? No, not at all. I'm just using this as a calculator because, um... The one that's assigned to me in this class is, um... It has dry batteries."

Mr. Bates then walks to his desk to take a pack of batteries off of it, and opens it. He then walks over to the calculator shelf to grab Rezzy's assigned calculator and replaces the batteries. After that, he walks back over to Rezzy's desk and places his calculator on it.

"Now," he says to Rezzy as he holds out his right hand. "Let me read your texts aloud to the whole class right now, or else I'll have to confiscate your "out-of-order" phone. That post-it note ain't fooling anybody."

"Oh, no, Mr. Bates," Rezzy replies in an uptight voice. "Please don't read them to the whole class."

"Alright, fine. I won't read them... YOU will."

"Are you serious?! Right now? To the whole fucking class? Right when we're learning about calculus?"

"Well, if you were paying attention, you would know that we are, in fact learning about trigonometry! Now, read those texts to us right now. You don't want me to write you up for profanity and disobedience against a teacher do you?"

"Crap... Fine, I'll read it aloud.

"Rezzy: Hey Mary. You wanted to talk to me about something?

Mary: Yes, actually. It's prompted relative.

Rezzy: Huh???

Mary: Sorry, I meant to say "prom-related." Autocorrect is acting up on me again.

Rezzy: Oh, okay. What about prom?

Mary: I won't go too deep into the details, but my dad asked me who my prom date is, and I told him that I'm going with you. He said that he wants to talk to you at my house afterschool today.""

"Ooooh...," the class instigates.

"Go on!" Johnny demands. "I want to hear the response you texted her!"

"Okay," Rezzy responds. Seconds of silence passes by, as the whole class continued to stare at Rezzy.

"Well?" Johnny says. "What did you say to her, Rezzy?"

"I just said it. I said "Okay.""

"Aw...," the class complains.

"Really, Rezzy?" Tim says. "Women don't like one-word responses."

"I'm letting you off with a warning, Rezzy," Mr. Bates states. "Next time, I will confiscate it."

"Ooooh...," the whole class instigates again.

"Will all of you instigators shut the hell up?!" Rezzy complains.

Chapter 2: "THE RAIN DROPS"

Afterschool, Rezzy goes over to Mary's house and knocks on her door. After a few seconds of silence of Rezzy standing in front of the door, Mary answers the door.

"Oh," Mary says. "Hi, Rezzy!"

"Hey, Mary," Rezzy responds. "Um... Your parents are home, right?"

"Yeah, they're here, but I'm about to leave right now. I have to pick up my little brother from school. I'll be right back."

"Oh, okay. That's fine with me."

Mary then walks up to her car, a red Toyota Prius, opening the door to the driver's seat.

"I'll see you later, Rez-Rez! Just have a seat in the dining room. That's where you'll meet my parents. I hope you'll enjoy meeting them!"

Mary then enters the car, driving away as Rezzy walks into Mary's house. Rezzy then enters the dining room, only to discover that it's vacant and very exquisite. As soon as he took a seat to await the arrival of Mary's parents, he sets his phone onto the dining table.

Mary's parents then walk into the dining room to take a seat across from Rezzy. Mary's father then stares at the post-it note on Rezzy's phone.

"So," he says, still eying Rezzy's phone. "You must be the Rezzy that Mary's been talking about for months."

"Um...," Rezzy hesitates. "Yes, that's me."

"Huh... That's interesting. Say, what kind of phone do you have?"

"Um... It's an Android."

"Excuse me, Rezzy," Mary's mother interrupts. "Would you like anything to drink before we interrogate the shit out of you?"

"Um...," Rezzy answers. "Pepsi, if you have any. If not, then I'll take some water instead."

"Okay," she responds as she smiles and leaves the dining room, going into the kitchen.

"So...," Mary's father continues. "Anyways, you're here to seek my approval to take Mary to prom with you, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, yes," Rezzy responds, fiddling his thumbs. "That is correct, sir."

"Please, call me Mr. Lee. So, how long have you had this crush on Mary?"

"Um... Don't get me wrong, your daughter is very lovely. She's friendly and sweet, but I just don't see her anything more than just a friend."

"Oh, okay... That's cool beans in the machine for me, I guess. That still leaves me a bit wishy-washy as to whether or not I should trust you with my daughter on prom night. Why do you think I should trust you?"

As soon as Rezzy was able to answer Mr. Lee's question, Rezzy's phone rang with some Radiohead ringtone to where Thom Yorke is singing aloud "THE RAIN DROPS, THE RAIN DROPS."

"Hold that thought, Mr. Lee," Rezzy says as he takes off the post-it note only to see that Tim is calling. "I'll have to answer this."

"What is it, Tim?" Rezzy answers his phone. "I'm kind of in the middle of something right now."

"Mylo isn't responding to any of my texts or calls at all," Tim panics. "Have you talked to him at all sometime after school today? This isn't like him to not reply."

"Calm down. He's probably just napping or something. For all we know, he could be playing the ponies with his uncle again."

"Well, if you do so happen to get a message from him or something, tell him that I need to tell him something ASAP."

"Why don't you wait until you see him tomorrow?"

"Fine. Go back to whatever you were doing. I'll see you tomorrow."

Rezzy hangs up and sets his phone back on the table and then puts the post-it note back on it, returning his attention to Mr. Lee.

"Where were we?" Rezzy asks. "Oh yes, something about you trusting me with Mary on prom night? Well, I'm pretty sure it'll mean something to Mary if I go with her."

"But then the question remains," Mr. Lee says. "Will it mean something to YOU?"

"If it meant nothing to me, I wouldn't have say "Yes." to her."

"Hm... okay. That's cool beans in the machine for me."

"DANNY!" Mrs. Lee yells from the kitchen.

"WHAT?!" Mr. Lee responds.




"Why did I marry a blonde?"




"You should probably leave now," Mr. Lee tells Rezzy.

Chapter 3: "That burrito was the best burrito I’ve ever had."

The next day arrives at lunchtime, and Rezzy, Tim and Mary are sitting at the table, eating burritos and drinking Caprisun... not that it matters anyways, but I digress!

"So how were things with you and my parents yesterday?" Mary asks.

"It felt very awkward," Rezzy claims. "They do, however, have a very nice dining room."

"Wow...," Tim says. "Okay, but at least you got the seal of approval to be Mary's prom day, right?"

"Yeah," Rezzy went on, "but something tells me that he still doesn't trust me."

"Really?" Mary asks. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. You just had to be there to see his facial expressions."

"Rezzy," Tim says. "Loosen up a bit, will you? You're starting to act the same way when you thought Charlie hated you for being gay. Wait... Do Mary’s parents know you're gay?"

"No, that topic never came up."

Mylo walks up to the table and takes a seat, slamming his backpack onto the table. He then takes $25 out of his pocket and slams it onto the table.

"I'm out," Mylo says.

"Wow, really?" Rezzy says as Mary takes the money. "Who confiscated it?"

"Some FBI agent did, all because he thought it was a remote to some bomb I allegedly planted in some lake... It's so stupid! He tackled me to the ground, demanding which bomb was "out-of-order" and told me that it wasn't fooling anyone and whatnot... Anyways, has anyone ever got suspicious of your phones yet?"

"No, not really. I had a close call yesterday, but that's the closest I'll ever be. That's because I surrounded my phone with sticky notes so that whenever I text, the teacher will think I'm digging through my notes or something."

"Huh... I never thought of that. Well, since I'm out of the bet, it's down to you and Tim."

"Oh!" Tim exclaims. "Speaking of me, I just got a $10,000 scholarship to Texas State University! That's what I've been wanting to tell you two yesterday."

"Wow, okay, whatever," Rezzy remarks. "Well, anyways, I'm not going to lost this bet without a fight. I WILL win!"

"I'll believe that when North Korea becomes a democracy."

"Bitch, please. I'll text you so hard, people will think your phone is a pocket-sized vibrator."

"Ew...," Mary says in disgust at Rezzy.

"I have my phone set on silent, you dumbass!" Tim corrects.

"Okay you two," Mylo says. "Settle down. It's only $50 that's on the line."

"Only $50?" Rezzy says. "ONLY $50?! Let me tell you something, Mylo Alex Flores, you'd be surprise at what "only $50" can do."

"Yeah," Mary replies. "$50 is what bought me this prom ticket!"

"Alright, alright," Mylo relents. "I get your point, but by the end of the bet, ask yourself, "Was it really worth getting my phone taken up?""

"Who are you directing that to, Mylo?" Tim asks.

"I'm directing that to whoever is the next person to get his phone confiscated. Whoever it is, he's the loser, like me. It could be YOU, Tim, or it could be YOU, Rezzy."

"Mylo," Rezzy says. "You're scaring me, along the beans out of my burrito."

Chapter 4: "I don't care what you guys think about Nutella pancakes."

The next morning, Rezzy and his mother were home, enjoying their time during breakfast... Well, at least Rezzy is trying to enjoy a good Saturday morning as Tim kept texting him plenty of messages constantly. Rezzy's phone is on the table, constantly vibrating, causing the orange juice in Rezzy's glass to ripple slightly at the meniscus.

"Rezzy," Mrs. Leon says as she flips a Nutella pancake. "Please respond to that obsessed friend of yours. Your phone is starting to sound like a pocket-sized vibrator."

"Um... Sure thing, mother," Rezzy says as he picks up his phone to see his messages. As Rezzy checks his inbox, he began to notice how many messages were sent from Tim.

Tim sent you 86 messages.

"Wow...," Rezzy says as he stares at the intimidating "86." "This better not be spam."

Rezzy then opens up the messages to see what Tim had sent him. The first seventy or so messages were basically just obscene gestures and whatnot about how he wants Rezzy to lose, sending suggestive and intimidating messages. Here's just some of what he sent Rezzy...


I'm gonna whoop your ass with love so much that you'll take the back door on your way out instead of the front. Believe me, it WILL hit you in the ass. I run this house. You know what I mean? I know, I'd kill myself, too, if I were you.

P.S. I want to do your mom for a career."

"Well?" Mrs. Leon says as she sets down a plate of Nutella pancakes on the table. "How much spam did you read?"

"Um..., hold that thought," Rezzy says as he texts back Tim. Seconds after he sends his response, his phone began to ring again with that Radiohead ringtone of his. "Excuse me," Rezzy says as he stands up out of his seat. "I'll have to take this to my room for a moment or two."

"Easily understandable," Mrs. Leon replied, flipping more of those Nutella pancakes of hers.

Rezzy sat down on his bed and answer his phone.

"What the hell do you want, Tim?" Rezzy complains. "You sent me 86 damn messages within the span of an hour! That HAS to be a world record for the most text messages sent to a person in less than an hour, and it's not even between any arguing couples! You, sir, are displaying a preposterous amount of unsportsmanlike conduct for someone who wants to win a bet."

"Who is this?" an unfamiliar voice responds. "I'm trying to get a hold of some guy named Rezzy Leon."

"Okay, this is starting to scare the shit out of me. How'd you obtain this phone, and why are you calling this number?"

"Why are you scared? This is only Tim's father!"

"Oh," Rezzy relieved. "Okay... What is it you need, Mr. Desmond?"

"Yeah, I couldn't help but to notice my son was constantly texting you, even screaming out stuff like "LOSE REZZY! YOU WILL LOSE!" Talk about being overly competitive... Anyways, next thing I knew, I found a recent progress report on his bed, and since he has failing grades, I told him that he's grounded from his phone. Sure enough, he gave me his phone, yelling "FUCK YOU, REZZY!" Also, why is there a post-it note that reads "out-of-order" on his phone? It just doesn't make any sense."

"Eh, I'm not sure, honestly. Anyways, may I speak with Tim just for a few moments right quick?"

"Sure... TIM! Rezzy wants to talk with you."

"What the hell you want?" Tim answers.

"Oh, I don't want anything. I just wanted to let you know that I win the bet!"

"Whatever... Just shut your mouth. Please don't tell Mylo tomorrow. I'll tell him myself."

Chapter 5: "Do I look fat in this prom dress?"

Rezzy is sitting alone at the lunch table writing a paper on the following Monday they returned to school from the weekend break as Mary arrives and takes a seat to join Rezzy.

"Where is everyone?" she asks as she takes her seat.

"In Galveston," Rezzy replies as he sets his pencil down to take a break from his writing.


"No, I just wanted to see how you'd react."

"Oh, okay. Anyways, while you and I are having our "alone" time together, I have something to show you."

"You... You have something to show me?"


Mary then takes out her phone and begins to scroll through the pictures and gives her phone to Rezzy.

"Look," she says as Rezzy takes the phone. "How do I look in it?"

"Um...," he says as he observes the picture. "You look very beautiful, but are the pearls really necessary? I mean, come on, you look like you could be the girlfriend of Sir Pearl Marbles."

"Shut up," she laughs as she gives Rezzy a love-tap on his shoulder. "That's no way to talk about my prom dress. At least you didn't say I look fat in it or anything, like what Tim told me this morning as he gave me his $25 from losing the bet."

"Oh yeah, speaking of Tim, where is he? He should give your prom dress a second opinion."

"Hm... I don't know where exactly Tim is, but he really should second guess his opinion, although I know he didn't meant what he said about it this morning. He was mainly talking about how he should've kept his grades up so that he wouldn't have been grounded from his phone. Oh, by the way, he told me to tell you that he said "Congratulations, fucker.""

"Hm... Oh well. It's Tim's lost now. Just give me my money that I won."

"Oh, about that..."

Mylo then joins Mary and Rezzy as he smiles and nods in greeting to the two, interrupting what Mary was about to say.

"Hello there, Mylo," Rezzy says. "Have you seen Mary's prom dress?"

"No, I haven't," Mylo says as Mary gives him her phone so that he can see the dress.

"It looks really beautiful on you, Mary," Mylo says. "However, you kind of look like Sir Pearl Marbles' girlfriend."

"Oh shut up, you," Mary says as she takes back her phone. "Rezzy, over here, said the exact same thing. I do appreciate the compliment, though."

"Speaking of you, Rezzy, how does it feel to win the bet?"

"Never have I felt so victorious in my life before," Rezzy says as he raises his sugar-reduced milk to propose a toast.

"I'd like to propose a toast! This man, over here, have been suffering through what felt like years of mourn and pain over the two phones that were lost in their heroic battles and struggles to win."

"It was actually about four days," Mylo corrects Rezzy.

"Shut up, I'm giving a speech before my toast. Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted, I' like to thank everyone who supported my phone and I, like my service provider, Verizon, and Staples for providing the post-it notes that we three used on our phones."

"Fine," Mylo says as he raises his milk. "I'll drink to that."

"Now," Mary says as she raises her milk in conformity, "let's have a toast to the one and only, Rezzy Leon!"

Just as everyone were reaching in to collide milk cartons to toast, Mylo then decides to throw his milk at Rezzy, drenching him as Mary quickly backs away in her seat from the table to avoid getting milk on her.

"What the hell was that for?!" Rezzy snaps as he uses his paper to dry himself.

"For winning, you fucking cheater!" Mylo responds as he shoots up two middle fingers at him.

"I can't believe it! I didn't even cheat! And to think Tim would be the one acting like this..."

He then turns his attention to Mary, staring at her in confusion.

"Can you at least give me my $50 for winning?"

"What $50?" Mary asks, shrugging her arms. "Oh, you mean the accumulated money Mylo and Tim gave me? Yeah, about that..."

"What about that, Mary?"

"You see, what had happened was that this Saturday, I went to this place and, uh... Yeah, how did you think I was able to get that pearl-embellished prom dress?"

© Anthony Romero, 2013



Back in November 2012, I wrote a poem, thinking about the friends I have now, wondering if I'll ever see them again after graduation and such. More recently in March, I took a copy of this poem to the teacher who was in charge of all the yearbook stuff. To my surprise, it was accepted to be in this year's yearbook for my school. Now, I share with you a not-so-perfect scan of that poem from the yearbook! :P


The Chocolate Whore

"The Chocolate Whore"

By Anthony Romero

How sweet your lives must be in that heart-shaped box.

I bet it must be a better experience for me in the mouth versus skin that has chicken pox.

Is it my fault that I've never written about chocolate before?

I just don't want to be called a "chocolate whore."

© Anthony Romero, 2013


"A New Day"

Okay, I finished laying out what I call the "foundation" for my first full song. I've tabbed up and written down the chords to it, I just need to transfer it to an official tab.

Back in February, not only did I finished writing up the Valentine's Day story (volume 4), Lovey-Dovey Rezzy, I also wrote a set of lyrics, as I'm using these for what is becoming my first song

I'll eventually record a demo of it after I finish up the touches to the lyrics.

The song is called "A New Day"

The whole meaning of the song is very personal, well, to me it is, as it's basically about my over-thinking, thus, jumping to conclusions and assuming a very solid and healthy friendship will turn sour.

"A New Day"

I lost a good friend.

Someone I thought I'd never lose.

Thought I was a good friend.

Now I'm emotionally abused.

We start a new day.

Yet we see the same old sun.

On my mind was yesterday.

Now we sing a new song.

Let's start the new day.

Who are we now?

Just strangers to each other.

What to do now?

We move on to another.

Let's start the new day.

Let's see the same old sun.

Remember yesterday

and sing a brand new song.

Let's start the new day.


St. Rezzy's Night In

St. Rezzy's Night In

By Anthony Romero

Chapter 1: “Eating Fish with Graham Crackers? Huh?”

Once upon a time in a far, far, far, far, far, okay, maybe too far. It’s too far away in some land that no one really cares about. If I recall, it’s in some land to where we enjoy Two-Piece Tuesday, Wings Day Wednesday, Three-Piece Thursday, and Four-Piece Friday. Okay, I went off-topic there, but you get my point. Right? I hope you do. Well, listen, I’m only telling this story all because I have nothing else to do to kill time. This story has been lying around in my head all day, and now is a great time to where I can share it before I forget.

Where was I? Oh yes. Two-Piece Tuesday. Oh wait, no, never mind, I was getting off-topic again. Crap… Why must I always do that? Oh well. Anyways, it was in a far away land that no one really cares about. There was this guy, right? His name was Rezzy Leon. He lived in a trailer, therefore, makes him trailer trash. He was always troubled and in sometimes, depressed. I remember hearing one story about him in the Q Store. I feel bad for him, really, mainly because Mary once shouted at him in a very girly manner, "Hey, sailor!" It was really awkward, honestly. It was awkward in the story, it was even awkward to ME, and I'm just some random dude!

During a busy day at school of doing absolutely nothing, Rezzy was sitting alone at the lunch table, finishing his turkey sandwich. Well, he was alone for a few minutes there. Ten minutes to be exact… Yeah. Ten minutes. Mylo and Tim then joins Rezzy at the lunch table, ten minutes later than usual. Mylo then sets his binder on the desk as Tim begins to eat his fish sticks.

“Where the hell were the two of you?!” Rezzy asks as he throws a napkin on his tray. “You guys are ten minutes late and I already finished my food!”

“Hey, calm down, will you?” Tim says. “It’s not like we’ve been gone for a whole week, you know. We were just finishing Mr. Willis’ test. Actually, I think the test was harder than these fish sticks!”

Tim then pulls out a bag of graham crackers to which Rezzy begins to stare at. “You eat fish sticks with graham crackers?” Rezzy asks. “Who the hell even does that?” “Apparently Tim,” Mylo says. “He’s been doing it since kindergarten. Of course, I don’t blame you for not knowing this before. After all, you just recently met us during our freshman year. Speaking of fish…” Mylo then pulls out his test review for Spanish class from his binder.

“How do you say “catfish” in Spanish? I have Mr. Rodriguez’s test in about ten minutes, and I have to get this review finished right now.”

“I don’t know,” Rezzy answers. “Pescado gato? Does it look like I know how to speak Spanish to you?!”

“Oh ha-ha, very funny. All of a sudden you think you’re a fucking comedian?”

“I actually want to be a psychiatrist ‘cause I need to handle mental people like you.”

“Hey!” Tim interrupts. “Both of you cut it out right now! I’m serious! Get some scissors so that you can cut it out of the review. That way, you won’t have to worry about it in the review anymore!

“I’m surrounded by dumbasses…,” Mylo complains.

A member from the high school student council then walked up to the table, and was holding a few green flyers in one of his hands.

"Hey guys," he said. "All three of you are seniors, right?"

Rezzy, Tim and Mylo then looked at each other as if something was wrong with the student. I mean, it's pretty obvious!

"Yes," Rezzy said. "We're all seniors. Does that make us important all of a sudden?"

"No," the student responded in a seductive voice, even licking his lips as if they were dry or something. "I was just wondering if any of you would be interested in purchasing a ticket to attend tomorrow night's St. Patrick's Day lock-in that's only for seniors.

"What's the catch?" Mylo asks in a seductive voice, licking his lips as well. The awkward conversation between Mylo and the student lead Rezzy and Tim to look at each other, questioning why the seductive attitude is necessary. Even I don't know...

"You all gotta wear green," the student council member replies. "Otherwise, you'll get showered in shaving cream."

After he said that, he walked away without saying his farewells or anything of that nature.

"Riiight," Rezzy says as he stands up, grabbing his backpack. "Guys, let's go buy our tickets and head on to class."

"I like that idea," Tim said, following suit as the three began to leave the cafeteria, entering the hallway.

Rezzy, Mylo and Tim then entered the hallway, walking up to Mary, who was sitting at the student council table, alone, selling tickets for the lock-in.

"Oh!" Mary exclaimed, noticing the three of them. "Did you come here to see me? How sweet."

"Um, no," Rezzy replied. "Actually, Mylo, Tim and I just want to buy our tickets for tomorrow night's senior lock-in."

"Oh...," Mary moped. "So you just want three tickets? You don't even want to say "hi" to me or anything?"

"You just read my mind. I just want three tickets, and then I'll be on my way to class."

"Fine. That'll be fifteen dollars."

"Well, my mom only allows me to spend five, so Mylo and Tim, LET'S MAKE IT RAIN FIVES!"

Rezzy, Mylo and Tim then pull five dollar bills out of their pockets and began to throw them all over Mary. They then took their tickets and carried on to class.

"You guys forgot your change and receipts!" Mary yelled to their backs as they were walking away.


Mary then folded her arms, shaking her head. "Jerks," she said to herself.

Chapter 2: “(Doritos Locos) Tacos?”

Friday night came along, and Mylo, Rezzy and Tim were all dressed in green clothing. Mylo then informs the two that he has to find a parking space for his car, dropping Rezzy and Tim off in the front of the school. Rezzy and Tim then enter the cafeteria, where all seniors have been told to first report to for the student council president to give a rundown of the lock-in activities.

“Hello seniors!” he said into a microphone, standing in front of a podium to which was located at the front of the cafeteria. “Welcome to thy holy lock-in! Just kidding, it’s not holy… Anyways, you guys can do whatever the hell you want here at the lock-in, but I’ll need to inform you of the restrictions that’ll be in effect until 7 AM. First and foremost, there will be no sex, drugs and violence.”

“Awww!” complained some seniors.

“Yeah, yeah,” the president continued. “Don’t blame me, alright? I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. With that being said, every senior is only allowed to get crunk up in the senior hall. All other grade level halls are off limits, and the entire second story, or in this case, upstairs, of the school are off limits as well.”

Rezzy then turned his attention to Tim, who was sitting directly to his right.

"Tim," he whispered. "We're only 25 minutes into this, and Mylo isn't even back. It doesn't take him this long just to park a damn car!"

"Don't worry about him," Tim replied. "He's probably just twerking it on the hood or something, I don't know!"

After the rundown meeting, Rezzy and Mylo then went into one of the senior hallways to see what’s there to do. Rezzy, however, wanted to go look for Mylo. Don’t ask me why, he just wanted to.

“Let’s go look for Mylo,” Rezzy said. See? I told you Rezzy wanted to look for Mylo!

“Really?” Tim responded. “Right now? Ain’t nobody got time for that! Let’s just enjoy ourselves and have fun!”

“Ugh… I’ll go look for him myself if I have to,” Rezzy says as he begins to walk away from Tim.

“Wait!” Tim raised his voice as he ran to Rezzy. “I was only kidding! Let me go with you!”

“I find it interesting how you change your mind so suddenly.”

“Oh shut up, you. Let’s just start looking for him upstairs, okay?”

“But isn’t going upstairs against the rules of the lock-in?”

“Psh, no one will notice!”

“Fine,” Rezzy nervously responds. “Let’s go.”

Rezzy and Tim then go upstairs to being their search for Mylo. Strange sounds were coming from the first classroom they walked past on their right. It sounded like desks moving, rocking back and forth, if even. The lights were off, which makes things even stranger… What do you think is in the room? Could it be a raccoon digging through the trash can? Could it be Casper doing back flips on desks? Could it even be ghosts doing the Harlem Shake in the dark? I have no idea…

Anyways, Rezzy and Tim were curious to find out what’s causing all the strange sounds in the room. Rezzy then places his hand on the doorknob, turning it. Oh! Guess what? The door was unlocked! Coincidence? I think not! Rezzy then opened the door with Tim following behind him… no homo.

“Let there be light,” Rezzy said as he flicked the switch. “And we were blessed with li… WOAH! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

Mylo and Johnny were found, sitting on the floor, making out, thankfully, still clothed.

“Mylo,” Tim said as he placed a hand over his mouth. “This is not how I thought you’d rebound after your break up with Suzy!”

Mylo and Johnny then both stopped their shenanigans, standing up and acting as if nothing happened.

“I thought I was the only gay one!” Rezzy said.

“What?” Mylo said, applying Chap Stick to his lips. “No, I don’t drive on a one-way street. I go both ways.”

“This… is interesting…,” Rezzy replied. He then turned his attention to Johnny. “What about you, Johnny?”

“Um… See, what had happened was, I was just sitting here, minding my own business, and the…”

“And then what?” Constable Amanda questioned as she stands behind Rezzy and Tim, who were standing at the doorway.

“And then…,” Johnny continued. “Uh… Tacos?”

“How did the hell do the four of you even managed to get in here?”

“The door was unlocked when Mylo and I walked up here.”

“Damn you, Mr. Rivera, for leaving your door unlocked!”

“Mr. Rivera isn’t even in here…”

“Oh, right…”

“May you, Tim and Rezzy please just act like none of this ever happened? PLEASE? I haven’t even come out to my parents yet.”

Rezzy began to laugh after Johnny said that.

“You’re a funny man, Johnny, but you can’t expect something as hilarious like this to just be left untold!”

Constable Amanda then began to shake her head.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “If all four of you just go back downstairs and try to find something to do that’s not gay, then I’ll cut you guys loose and act like none of this ever happened.”

“Thank you, Amanda,” Johnny said, running over to her, immediately shaking her hand.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she said, pulling her hand out of Johnny’s. “This was not part of the damn plan! Get the fuck back downstairs! All of you! Now!”

Chapter 3: “The Moonlight Is Not Serious”

When the four, including Amanda, returned downstairs, they began to notice how most of the seniors were drunk, running down the halls, yelling out stuff like “WOO! Designer jeans!” Amanda became irritated by such a repugnant sight, so she decided to try to deal with the drunken.

“Rezzy!” Mary said as she ran to him. “Where were you? I’ve been looking all over these halls for you!”

“Um…,” Rezzy hesitated as he began to walk away from Mylo, Tim and Johnny. “You guys go on without me. I’ll be with Mary.”

“Okay,” Tim said. “We’ll be over at Mr. Bate’s class, playing Pictionary.”

“What do you want?” Rezzy asked Mary as the two started to walk together.

“Just come with me!” she said, grabbing Rezzy by the wrist as the two walked out of the building and into the parking lot.

When the two entered the parking lot, the two could hardly see, as the lights that were supposed to illuminate the lot were not even turned on. The only light that really was present was the full moon in the starry sky and the lights coming from the inside of the school. Mary was holding a few boxes of tacks and gave Rezzy one box. Rezzy was confused, as he didn’t know what it was for, let alone what to do with it.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asked her.

“Just put them behind the tires of these teacher’s cars!” she responds, running to a car. “Its part of a senior prank I’m doing!”

Rezzy began to watch Mary from the other side of the parking lot to where he’s been standing all this time. As he was watching Mary, he began to take a look at some of the cars that were in the parking lot. He could barely recognize some of the cars in there because of the lighting, but was still able to make out their shape.

“Strange…,” he said to himself. “I didn’t know a lot of teachers drive sports cars.”

Mary began to grow impatient as she was placing tacks behind car tires.


“YOU KNOW WHAT?” Rezzy yelled, throwing down the box of tacks on the ground. “I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS! I QUIT!”


Rezzy then began to walk back into the building to check up on Mylo, Tim and Johnny’s progress on their Pictionary game. As Rezzy was, again, walking down the senior hall, he began to hear them screaming and arguing from Mr. Bate’s classroom.

Chapter 4: “It’s a plain bird…”

As Rezzy walked into Mr. Bate’s room, he noticed how there was a drawing on the board... He couldn’t make out what it was, actually… Rezzy thought it was a plus sign drawn by a fourth grader who had just recently drunk a whole can of Monster and is ready for recess.

“IT’S A BIRD!” Tim argued.

“NO IT’S NOT!” Johnny responded. “I DREW IT! IT’S A PLANE, YOU DUMBASS!”

“Guys,” Mylo said. “It’s just a game.”



Soon enough, Tim and Johnny began to fight like two homeless guys over the last beer in the 6-pack. Nobody even noticed Rezzy walking into the room, surprisingly. Mylo got out of his seat and ran out into the hall, screaming like a girl, begging for someone to break up the fight between Tim and Johnny. Constable Amanda entered the room shortly after and tried to break it up, but another fight occurred in another classroom over who can twerk the best.

About ten minutes later, the two fights caused a riot to break out in the senior hall, as everyone was drunk, except Mylo, Rezzy and Constable Amanda. Apparently, they thought fighting was cool… It’s not cool, really. It’s really not. It breaks my heart to just know that, really. I mean, come on, you think you’re hardcore because you do drugs? Nope. You’re just another juvenile delinquent if you think doing drugs and fighting are cool. I mean, seriously?! How outrageous can this lock-in get? (Sorry, that was a random rant time… I know nobody would care…)

Anyways, the riot caused Mylo to go into a panic attack, grabbing Rezzy after finally noticing him.

“Where’s Tim and Johnny?” he asked him.

“I don’t know!” Rezzy responded. “I can’t seem to find them! Everyone’s wearing too much green!”

Mylo then grabs Rezzy and takes him to his car in an attempt to get away from all of the chaos. Mylo and Rezzy entered the car, with Mylo in the driver’s seat, and Rezzy in the passenger’s. Mylo then started the engine and began to reverse out of his parking space. About after five seconds of reversing, the two heard something deflate…

“I hope it was only you running out of gas…,” Rezzy told Mylo.

“Um…,” Mylo hesitated. “I have a full tank…”

The two then got out of the car to see what had gone wrong to their so-called “getaway plan”. Mylo’s tires were flattened because of the tacks that Mary had placed behind everyone’s cars.

“Please tell me this is the teacher’s parking lot…,” Rezzy said nervously.

“No,” Mylo responded. “This is actually the student parking lot.”


© Anthony Romero, 2013


Lovey-Dovey Rezzy

During the last two and a half weeks of January, I started work on the fourth Rezzy Leon story that would become Lovey-Dovey Rezzy. During that same time frame of writing that story, I was sitting in front of the computer in my web technology class one day. I wrote another story within 15 minutes, titled "A Walk in the Park?". Since that was finished before Lovey-Dovey Rezzy, "A Walk in the Park?" became the third story, being published on January 28.

Lovey-Dovey Rezzy was the first story to where I wrote an outline for, only to focus on plot structure, and nothing more. While you still have the old, unrealistic Rezzy Leon, you'll notice something else, as well. I want you to find out what that "something else" is.

As for the plot itself, I don't consider this story to be a Valentine's Day special. I just don't see Rezzy in a love story, honestly. Anyways, Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you'll enjoy volume 4 of this Rezzy Leon story.


Lovey-Dovey Rezzy

By Anthony Romero

Chapter 1: “I’m Sorry About Your Patriots”

“No way! I’m telling you, man,” Tim exclaims as he applies ketchup to his burger. “Aaron Rodgers is a way better quarterback than Matt Schaub!” “I STRONGLY disagree with you on that, Tim!” argues Mylo as he opens his reduced-sugar chocolate milk. “I mean, look at it this way,” Tim continues, “Aaron has a Super Bowl ring and Schaub doesn’t.”

“Don’t even bring Super Bowl games into this!”

“No, no, no, I’m serious. It’s all about if you win a Super Bowl or not. That shows who’s better.”

“I don’t know, Tim. I’m pretty sure I’m among the millions of football fans that have to disagree with you on that.”

“We’ll see about tha… wait…,” Tim hesitated as he looked across the lunch table to find a silent Rezzy Leon seated. Tim then looked back at Mylo. “Mylo,” he goes on. “Have you noticed how Rezzy didn’t even bring up Tom Brady in this debate?” “Hm…,” Mylo hesitated. “I’m actually quite surprised about that. Usually he’d stand up and defend Tom Brady out of nowhere.”

“You know that I can hear you guys, right?” Rezzy finally spoke. Tim and Mylo then suddenly grew silent as the look on their faces grew to show a sign of concern. “Look, Rezzy,” Tim said, “I’m sorry about your Patriots. I know they didn’t make their way to the Super Bowl.” “What? No,” Rezzy continued. “That’s silly. It’s not even about the Patriots!”

“Oh… Well, what is it about, then?”

“Well… It’s rather quite hard to talk about.”

“Just talk about it in the best way you can. You know we’re here for you!” Mylo says in an attempt to encourage Rezzy.

“Okay, well, here it goes,” Rezzy says as he began to take a few deep breaths. “I don’t know what other way to say it, but Gary and I broke up.”

“I’m… so…,” Mylo hesitated, “I’m so sorry to hear that. I mean, there’s plenty of more fish out there, you know? I’m just sorry to hear about how you finally have an ex-boyfriend.” “MYLO!” Tim interrupted. “We’re trying to make him feel better, dammit! We’re not trying to make him feel all depressed and go into a phase of isolation!” “Sorry! Sheesh!” Mylo apologized. A few seconds of silence passed by them, as Mylo pulls out a worksheet out of his backpack. “I just remembered!” he exclaimed. “I need to go turn in this worksheet to Mrs. Cavitt before I forget. Anyone wants to come with me?” “I guess I’ll go,” Tim says as him and Mylo stands up and pushes their chairs in. Tim then looked at Rezzy. “Would you like to come with us?” Tim asked as he puts on his backpack. “Nah,” Rezzy moped. “You guys can go on without me.” “Can you at least meet Tim and I up in front of the school after school?” Mylo asked. “Eh, sure. I don’t see why not.” Rezzy said monotonously. “Alright then,” Tim said. “We’ll see catch you later.” “Wait,” Mylo said as he turns to Tim. “What about your burger? You didn’t even finish it!” Tim then looked at Mylo. “Man, fuck that burger! It was cold!” Mylo then just smirked while shaking his head as the two began walking, leaving Rezzy the only person sitting at the lunch table, alone.

“Hey!” someone said as Rezzy looked up. “Oh,” he relieved. “Hey there, Mary.” “How’s it going?” she responded.

“Terrible. Gary and I broke up.”

“Aw… I’m so sorry to hear that. In a way, I kind of knew it was going to happen.”

“You knew? How so?”

“Well, have you ever even taken notice of his behavior around you for the past few weeks? He even told me that he lost interest in you a few days ago.”

“Ah… Well, that… THAT BASTARD! I mean... Yeah… I’m bummed out about it. Oh well. Things happen. I can move on, I guess.”

“Just think positive and don’t let the things that you can’t control bother you!”

Just after she said that, the bell rung, as the two glanced at each other. A few seconds of silence passes by, forcing the two to feel awkward. “Which class are you going to right now?” Mary asked, breaking the silence. “Eh,” replied Rezzy. “I have to go to Mr. Whirly’s class.” “Ah, that sucks. I have to go to Mrs. Cavitt. She’s really nice!”

“Yeah, I met her one time. She really is nice.”

“Well,” Mary said softly in a very girly voice. “See you later, sailor!”

“EW! Why do you call me that, especially in that manner?! IT’S VERY CREEPY!”

Chapter 2: “Johnny Is High”

“All right, class!” Mr. Whirly said as he entered the class room, slamming the door behind him. “Get out your homework from yesterday and shut up so that we can get this shit out of the way! Let’s skip the eight easiest questions. Now, let’s look at number 9, because obviously, all of you are a bunch of fucking dumbasses, and you don’t know how to even solve this damn logarithm! Now, the question is log9x=2. How the hell do we solve for x?” Only a few select students raised their hands, including Tim and Rezzy. Mr. Whirly then looked around the room, wondering who to call on. “Yes, you,” he said, pointing to Tim, who is sitting in the first row. “Um…,” Tim hesitated. “Is it 81?”

Mr. Whirly then walked over to Tim’s desk, raising his right hand. “CORRECT!” he raised his voice, slapping Tim’s face very hard. Tim then fell out of his desk and onto the floor, crying out in pain. “Why the…,” he said with his hands over his face. “Why the hell did you do that?!” Just as Mr. Whirly was about to do something else, there was a knock on the door. He walked over and opened the door only to see Constable Amanda there. “Aw crap,” he thought.

“Good morning, Mr. Whirly!” she said, cheerfully. “How are we doing on this fine morning?” Mr. Whirly then looked down and noticed that a canine was just sitting there, accompanying Amanda, happily on a leash with his tongue out, wagging his tail. “Um…,” he said in a shaky voice. “Good morning to you, too, Constable Amanda. I’m doing fine.” Amanda then looked over Mr. Whirly’s shoulder, noticing that Tim is in pain, as he is still lying on the floor next to his desk. “Why is that student holding his face like someone slapped him?”

“Uh…, it’s not really that big of a deal, really. He’s just… uh… um… is having a bad hair day, I guess?”

“Uh huh…,” she said, sounding as if she wasn’t convinced. “Well, anyways, we have the drug dog here, and I’m going to have to ask of you to please have you and your students to just leave their jackets and belongings in the room as we have the dog search.”

“Oh!” Mr. Whirly relieved. “Okay! Sure.” He then walked back into the classroom. “Listen up, dumbasses! We have the drug dog here, so leave all of your jackets, purses, belongings, or anything of that nature, in this room.” The students then made their way out of the classroom, and waited out in the hallway. One student who was walking out looked at the dog and said “Man, it ain’t even a German Sheppard!” Constable Amanda gave the student a mean look, saying “Sir, this is not a joke!”

After everyone was situated in the hall, Amanda and the canine went into the room to search. About a few seconds after she went inside the room, the canine started to bark, breaking the silence as the barking echoes off of the walls. “Aw shit,” Johnny says silently to himself as he began to tense up. “I think they found my stuff…” The whole class, even Mr. Whirly himself, then turned to look at him in a manner to where you’ll be saying “Did he really just said that?”

Amanda and the canine then walked out of the room, as Amanda was wearing a glove in her right hand, holding a bag of marijuana. “Whose weed is this? I found it in a black leather jacket.” she said, trying to maintain her cool. “It’s mine,” Johnny said as he began to pace around nervously. Amanda then glanced at Johnny, and then at Tim, and then back again at Johnny. “Wait a minute…” she paused. She then pointed to Tim, saying “I know how this happened! He’s injured all because he didn’t supply the money for you to sell this weed to him, therefore, you slapped him!” “Damn right!” Mr. Whirly said as he fist pumped. “This is an outrage!” Tim yelled. “Are you going to believe HIM?! It was the teacher who slapped me! Not Johnny Bag-of-Weed!” “I’m a constable,” Amanda said. “We believe anything the teachers say.” Rezzy then shook his head. “It really wasn’t Johnny who slapped Tim!” he said in an attempt to defend Tim.

Amanda then turns to look at Rezzy. “Listen,” she said, “I know you’re trying to stand up for a friend and all, but you weren’t involved at all. Stay out of it.” She then looked at Johnny and Tim, pointing at the two. “Both of you,” she said. “Come with me." “This day cannot just get any worse,” Rezzy pouted as Amanda, Tim and Johnny began to walk away.

Chapter 3: “Let’s See Exhibit A”

As Tim and Johnny approached the constable’s office, Amanda unlocked the door and opened it. After the three entered the office, Amanda then slammed the door. She then sat down at her desk, and across from where she was sitting were two chairs. Coincidence? I think not! Tim and Johnny then sat down and occupied the two chairs. “Let me see both of your IDs so that I can run you guys through the system,” Amanda says as she logs into her computer. The two then gave her their IDs as she began to type in their names. “Tim… Desmond…,” she said to herself as she typed it. “And... Johnny… Astro…” As soon as she was done, she gave the two their IDs back.

“Okay,” she continued. “I’m about to ask you guys some questions. Do not speak unless spoken to, and when spoken to, I want to hear nothing but truth from you. Do I make myself clear?” “Yes ma’am,” the two replied in unison. She then looked at Tim. “Tim,” she said. “I want you to go into detail about the situation with the weed.” “Okay,” Tim calmly replied. “First of all,” he continued. “I wasn’t even involved with Johnny. Mr. Whirly really did slap me! You can even ask Rezzy! He was telling you the truth!” Johnny was just sitting there silently nodding his head in agreement, supporting Tim. Amanda then shook her head. “Bullshit,” she retorted. “You students tell more lies than a Wal-Mart advertisement on a Tuesday morning! I believe that Johnny slapped you all because you failed to pay him for the weed, in which, he supplied for you.” “This is so stupid,” Johnny sighed, shaking his head. Just as Amanda was about to respond, the school fire alarm suddenly sounds off. “You have got to be juggling my jellybeans,” she complained. “Both of you,” she sighed. “Come with me, and let’s evacuate the building together, and don’t pull anything funny and try to run off and disappear on me either!”

Chapter 4: “On a cold, windy day…”

In the parking lot behind the school, Tim, Johnny, and Constable Amanda were standing there, oddly enough, behind a parked constable car. Johnny was so nervous; he was shaking like a leaf. Amanda and Tim thought that he was just shaking because of the cold, cloudy and windy conditions of the weather. As Amanda was stretching, she then got a call on that portable radio-walkie-talkie thing that cops and constables wear. What was that thing called again? I forget. Anyways, I digress.

“This is Hot Dog, here, reporting,” the voice on the radio said. “Cookie Monster, are you there?” “This is Cookie Monster here,” Amanda replies. “What’s the emergency?”

“We have a report claiming that a teacher slapped a student because the student suggested that the class should evacuate for the fire drill, but the teacher demanded everyone to stay.”

“So what you’re telling me is that a teacher is basically holding his class hostage?”

“Correct, Cookie Monster. It’s in room 604.”

“Unbelievable. I’ll be there ASAP.”

Amanda then turned her attention back to Tim and Johnny. “Look,” she said, “I know I’m going to regret saying this very much, but I have to take this call. Apparently it’s more important than questioning a drug-possessing kid like you, Johnny. I’m afraid I’ll have to let the two of you go.” “YES!” Johnny cheered. “Hey! Idiot, calm down! Don’t make it sound like you found out that you’re not the father of a child on the Maury show!” Amanda raised her voice, then rushing off into the building afterwards. Tim and Johnny just looked at each other, both wondering if it was Mr. Whirly who slapped another student, and if so, who was it he slapped.

Chapter 5: “Education First, Love Last”

After the whole shebang, Rezzy, Tim and Mylo met up in front of the school after school, as the three had planned earlier in the day. “So,” Rezzy said. “Today was pretty interesting, huh?” Tim and Mylo nodded their heads, as Tim says “I agree.” “Did Constable Amanda even do anything to you or Johnny after she took you both to her office earlier today?”

“Um… Nothing drastic that I know of. She was about to question us, but then the fire drill went off, and then she got a call about some teacher slapping a student, holding a class hostage… yeah.”

“I bet it was Mr. Whirly who did it!” Mylo said.

“Eh, we’ll find out soon enough,” Rezzy replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was really him.

“HEY SAILOR!” Mary yelled behind Rezzy in that very feminine voice of hers. “WHY DO YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT?!” Rezzy cringed. “IT’S VERY CREEPY!” Mary shook her head, saying “Not really. Creepy is stalking.” “OH!” Tim interrupted. “I just remembered that, um… Mylo and I, uh… We both have to go to the library to finish our research for a project in Mrs. Cavitt’s class, right Mylo?” Mylo hesitated. “Um… Yeah! Right! We’ll just leave, um… You two alone… yeah… alone…”

As Mylo and Tim left, Rezzy and Mary was just standing there, looking at each other. “So…,” mumbled Rezzy. “Interesting day, huh?” “Yup,” Mary said. “Very…” Afterwards, a few seconds of silence grew in between them. “So,” Mary said, as she broke the silence. “Um… Do you, erm… want to possibly maybe, um… go to prom with me?”

“Hm…,” Rezzy paused. “I, um… You… Good friend? Ah… yes.”

“Yay!” Mary cheered, hugging Rezzy. “BUT,” Rezzy continued. “Just know that we’re only going as friends… nothing else.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she replied, as the two then saw Mr. Whirly exiting the school building shouting obscenities, as he was in handcuffs, being escorted by Amanda to the constable car.


© Anthony Romero, 2013


A Walk in the Park?

​So here it is, folks, the third volume in the Rezzy Leon series! I wrote this story in about 15 minutes. The Valentine's Day story was originally supposed to be the third one, but this story just so happened to be written on a random term. Not only that, it's a single chapter story, (or, SCS, for short). I don't write SCS's often, so enjoy this one in the meantime, while we wait for the February 14th story.

“A Walk in the Park?”

by Anthony Romero

The birds were singing, the clouds were dancing, and Rezzy was just… well, he was just sitting on a bench in the local city park, pondering the thought of what was to come next week. He had just recently applied to get a job down at The Q Store, as the manager was looking for someone to replace Ashley, who was just recently arrested last December for, well… You know. It was stressing Rezzy out just waiting to hear a phone call from the manager, waiting to be interviewed. The stress was starting to get the best of him, as he began to feel clumsy, trembling around every now and then when he lost balance whenever he walks. However, Rezzy was still sitting down on the bench, looking around as he sees couples walking together, hand in hand, children playing together, laughing while having their fun, and even some joggers getting their daily exercise. One jogger, however, fell onto the hard concrete as his shoelace became untied. Rezzy frantically ran over to see if the jogger

was okay. “Are you okay?” Rezzy asked him. See? I told you he ran over to see if he was okay. “Ouch…,” complained the jogger. “I’m obviously… in… in a lot of pain right now, dumbass.” “You shoe became untied.”

“Nah, you think?”

“I was just trying to inform you. Listen, dude, do you need help, or not?”

“I… I think I’ll be fine. Say, what’s your name?” “Rezzy. Rezzy Leon. Yours?”

“My name is Miles Thomas.”

“Hey, my dad’s name is Thomas!”

“No one asked, kid,” Miles snarled as he stood up, attempting to walk out the pain. He was trying to walk away from Rezzy, but Rezzy didn’t want to leave him limping. “Miles, are you sure you don’t need my help?” “Listen, kid,” Miles continued, “I don’t need some teenage queen babysitting me, alright?” “Fine,” Rezzy relented as the two parted ways.

Rezzy then sat back down on the bench, concerned on Miles’ health. About ten minutes later, Miles came back in Rezzy’s sight, finishing another lap of jogging. As he passed through, he gave a mean look at Rezzy, almost to the point of making it awkward between them. Rezzy then decided to head back home, out of fear of not only missing The Q Store manager’s phone call, but out of fear of being beat up by Miles. Rezzy began to walk. After five minutes of walking, Rezzy trembled, losing balance, and fell on the concrete side walk. Miles eventually saw him, only about after five minutes of Rezzy rolling around crying in pain. “Rezzy!” he exclaimed, running over to see if he was okay. “Are you okay?” “What does it look like?! I’M OBVIOUSLY IN A LOT OF PAIN RIGHT NOW, DUMBASS!”

“Do you need help?” “You can help by walking away from me!”

“I was only trying to help! I just saw you fell, I don’t know if you tripped or what.”

“Tripped?” Rezzy questioned, looking around on the ground, seeing if there was anything that caused him to fall. “Listen, dude,” Rezzy said, “I’ve just been in a lot of stress lately, that’s all. I guess I just lost balance and fell. Stress makes you lose balance, you know.”

“You sure?” Miles asked out of curiosity, helping Rezzy up. “Um…,” Rezzy hesitated. “I’m sure of it.”

Miles then looked down at Rezzy’s feet. “Then why is your right shoe untied?” he asked.“What are you talking about?” Rezzy asked. He then looked down.

Ten seconds later...


© Anthony Romero, 2013


"The Thoughts I See Through the Vapor"

Here's a set of lyrics I wrote just now, called "The Thoughts I See Through the Vapor". It might become a song next year, I'm not sure.

Lock yourself in a room with nothing but a pen and some paper.

Write down your thoughts, and let me into your mind.

You know I love to see your thoughts go up in a vapor.

I just like to sit down, and watch them all vaporize.

Vaporize in front of my eyes.


2012 Personal Year-In Retrospective

Hello guys! 2012, compared to 2011, has been one of the best years for me yet. Despite starting off on a bit of the wrong foot, I ended this year on a high note. Here's some key points for me:


  • The last two episodes to my Mario Kart Wii: Online series is recorded.

    • The new Twisted Metal game was released, and it's AWESOME!
    • I turned 17.

      • During my spring break, I win an autographed Twisted Metal Sweet Tooth action figure from the developers at Eat Sleep Play, the crew that developed the game.

        • I announced that I have retired from playing the game Mario Kart Wii.

          • Digital Rez Productions and Digital Rez Recordings have been founded by me.

            • My then-senior friends have graduated.
            • My summer break starts.
            • I see Coldplay for my first time! dance.gif

              • My short-lived Gettin' Real with Rez series has begun.


              [*]My senior year has begun!


              [*]I FINALLY managed to tell a girl that I truly had feelings for her.

              [*]Gettin' Real with Rez has been cancelled.

              [*]After four years of being active, I have finally closed my first YouTube channel.


              [*]The character, Rezzy Leon has been created, along with his debut in the story, The Halloween Tale of Rezzy Leon.


              [*]A Very Rezzy Thanksgiving was planned to be the full second story in the Rezzy Leon series, but wasn't completed and wasn't counted to be a story.


              [*]I see Rush for my third time! dance.gif

              [*]I have started up a second YouTube channel (TexasRezzy).

              [*]By the time the TRUE second story, Christmas Time with Rezzy, had been published, the stories of Rezzy Leon has already been heard of within my mobile home community, friends at school, and even my mom...blank.gif

              As you can see, there were more high points than low points for me. I hope it stays that way for 2013! Speaking of the new year, here are my New Year's resolutions:

              [*]Finish at least five more Rezzy Leon stories before I graduate

              [*]Get an acoustic guitar

              [*]Write my first song, and record a demo of it

              [*]If successful with my previous goal, then I will share the demo with my friend, who wants to start a band with me

              [*]After I graduate, I hope my band will be able to practice and to hopefully get into my dad's friend's studio to record a 4-track EP

              [*]If previous two goals aren't possible, then I'll go to college

              [*]Even if I'm in college or not, I still attempt to publish a Rezzy Leon book that features a compilation of stories

              Hopefully I'll accomplish some other things unexpectedly also! I look forward to starting off the New Year on a high note, and hope for the best for everyone in 2013. Stay safe, and enjoy yourselves in the meantime.


Christmas Time with Rezzy

Christmas Time with Rezzy

by Anthony Romero

Chapter 1: "Ho's, Ho's and Ho's"

"I want a bicycle. I want one with a bell on it that goes RING RING, Santa!", the young boy on the mall Santa's lap wished. "Okay," he replies with a cheesy smile. "Make sure you stay on my list of nice kids!" As soon as the boy jumped off, he ran back to his mother, walking off elsewhere in the mall. "NEXT!", Santa yelled abruptly. A little girl was next in line to sit on Santa's lap. As soon as she sat on his lap, the mall Santa the pulled out a sheet of paper, claiming it to be a list. "Here's my list," he says to the girl, looking at the list. "What kind of list is it, Santa?", the little girl asked. "Why it's a list of the kids that'll be receiving a gift for Christmas, of course!", Santa joyfully replied.

"What kind of kids?"

"Good kids and bad kids."

"You mean "naughty" and "nice"?"

"You know what I mean, little girl!"

"Hey! Don't call me little girl, you old man!"

"Oh, you're on Santa's list now, girl!"

"Which one?"

"The list that has the kids' names on it."

"Naughty or nice?"

"You're on my fallicious list."

"What does "fallicious" mean Santa?"

"It means that you'll be receiving a gift this Christmas! What do you want?"

"A PONY! A PONY! One that I can ride on!"

"Sure thing, little gir... I mean, child."

"Thank you, Santa!"

The little girl then jumped off of Santa's lap and walked off with her parents elsewhere. Just as they were starting to walk, the mall Santa said "She'll be getting a big bag of coal, of course!", to the other kids who were waiting in line. The little girl seemed to become quite displeased as she started storming back to Santa with her mother, as her father took a seat at a bench next to Rezzy and watched. "Oh my," the father said, "I don't like the looks of this. I won't be surprised if my wife starts to beat up Santa." Rezzy just grinned and nodded to him, as he turned his attention to the father's wife.

"NOW LOOK HERE MISTER!", the mother started to blast off to the mall Santa, "HOW DARE YOU TELL MY LOVELY RITA THAT SHE'S GETTING A BAG OF COAL FOR THIS CHRISTMAS. SHE'S BEEN A GOOD GIRL, AIIGHT? AND IF YOU WANTED TO LET HER KNOW, YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD HER IN HER FACE, AIIGHT?" Most people started to crowd around the mother. The line of kids grew concerned, anticipating on what was to come. One kid ran out of the line, crying out of fear. "Ma'am," Santa started to speak, "Please do calm down." "NO, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN," she responded. "YOU AIN'T EVEN REAL ANYWAYS! YOU'RE JUST A FAKE ASS BITCH!" Everything in that certain area of the mall suddenly grew silent. "SHIT JUST GOT REAL!", Rezzy Leon blurted aloud. "He's... fake?", one kid asked as his eyes started to tear up. "Where's the security dude at?," one employee asked as he walked out of a mall rendition of the Q Store. About a minute later, Rezzy Leon's father walked out of the store as well, walking up towards Rezzy with a bag of goods. "Wow, she must be upset at something," Mr. Leon told Rezzy, handing him the bag. "Yeah... What took you?!", Rezzy snapped. "Sorry son!", Mr. Leon said apologetically. "The person in front of me was paying for everything in pennies." "Oh, I feel your pain bro," Rezzy sighed. "Now, let's just continue shopping and get this crap over with."

"But it's for your mother, Rezzy."

"Yeah, I know, but I'd like for us to get going before that lady over there loses her mind over that mall Santa."

"Hm... You're right," Mr. Leon said as he and Rezzy both started to walk away from the bench.

Chapter 2: "Ho's, ho's, and more ho's."

"What's next on the list?", Mr. Leon asked Rezzy. "It says "a pair of new drumsticks." Funny. I never seen mom play the drums, nor do we even own a drum set." "Um...," Mr. Leon snatched the list out of Rezzy's hands. "Let's just skip that for now." "Uh huh," Rezzy responds in suspicion. "What ever you say. You're the one that decided to come to the mall afterall." "Hey!", Mr. Leon says, avoiding to talk about the supposedly called drumsticks. "Let's go inside that store to see if we can find anything!" "Inside a Macy's?", Rezzy asked. "Eh, I don't see why not."

As soon as the two entered the Macy's, they were welcomed by an employee who was stocking up some more winter boots on the shelves. "Okay, mister I-Have-The-List," Rezzy said in sarcasm, "What's the next thing that's on the list?" "Well," Mr. Leon responded, looking at the list, "your mother wanted us to get this perfume for her, called "Cherry Blossoms". Not sure what it smells like, nor do I want to know what it smells like."

About two minutes after the two walked into the Macy's, Rezzy heard a familiar voice saying "Thank you, have a nice day and a safe Christmas!" He then turned his head to see a familiar face at the counter. "Oh God," Rezzy said to himself. "It's... Is it really her? I believe I owe her a penny." "Owe who a penny?", Mr. Leon questioned Rezzy. "This one girl that I met on Halloween eve. If it was on Halloween, then it would be too cliché. It's a long story, actually." "Uh huh...," Mr. Leon said in suspicion, looking at Rezzy. Rezzy then began to wonder why she was working at Macy's now. Did she got fired at the Q Store for being rude to Rezzy Leon that one night? Did she just decided to quit because she gave up on life, or did she just quit because she broke a nail? Let's find out...

As Rezzy and his father both walked into the perfume section, they stumbled across the bottle of perfume labled "Cherry Blossoms." "Oh!", Mr. Leon said with excitement, "This is the one your mother wanted!" "Great!", Rezzy replied. "Now let's pay for that and leave to another shop. This Macy's is giving me the chills... I'm not a Macy's fan." "Fine," Mr. Leon relented as he started walking towards the checkout counter. When the two arrived to the counter with the perfume bottle in Mr. Leon's hands, Rezzy started cringing, seeing the cashier. She smiled at the customer in front of them, saying in that, to which Rezzy considers, annoying voice of hers. Right when the customer left the store with his purchased items, Rezzy and his father stood up to the counter to pay for the perfume.

"Did you locate everything okay?", the cashier asked, not acknoledging Rezzy at first. As soon as Mr. Leon responded with a "Yup!", the cashier looked into Rezzy's eyes very sternly. "Good to know," she said indirectly to Mr. Leon, still looking at Rezzy. "Um...," Rezzy hesitated. "Merry Christmas." "Merry Christmas to you to, Penny Man."

"Huh"?, Mr. Leon thought aloud.

"He's the Penny Man," the cashier went on to tell Mr. Leon, "because your son over here was a penny short when I was a cashier at the Q Store back over there on 8th Avenue."

"That's very interesting," Mr. Leon responded in sarcasm.

"Anyways," the cashier said, scanning the perfume bottle, "That'll be $86.80."

Mr. Leon the pulled out his wallet to get his debit card from it, then giving it to the cashier. "So, why are you a cashier at this Macy's now?", Rezzy asked. "What ever happened to your job at the Q Store?" She then put the perfume in a bag, giving it to Mr. Leon, along with his debit card, trying to avoid the question. Seconds later, she sighed, and looked back at Rezzy. "I get too much homeless customers that pays me in pennies. Thank you, and Merry Christmas. Get lost."

Chapter 3: "These boots were actually made for running, not walking."

After Rezzy and his father left the Macy's, Rezzy asked his dad which item was next on this list to purchase for Mrs. Leon. "Hm...," Mr. Leon said, looking at the list. "Wow... She wants those boots she's been telling us about." Rezzy had a confused expression on his face. "Like, cowboy boots?", he asked his father.

"No, fool! I'm talking about those boots with the fur on it."

"OH! I thought you were talking about those Texan boots, or something like that."

"I can't believe I spent seventeen years of my life raising THIS; a dumbass!"

"Whatever. At least I take pride in who I am!"

"So what? Anyways, let's find a footwear store for women, and in a hurry, too."

The two then walked around the mall for a few minutes searching for a women's footwear store until they came across one. Eventually they did, as it was just a Lady's Footlocker. The two then looked at each other with the expression on their faces reading "Do we really have to?".

As soon as they both walked in, an employee who works there welcomed the two. "Um...," Rezzy turned to his father. "You sure they sell furry boots here? This is a Lady's Foot Locker for Bob Marley's sake! They sell Nike, Jordan, and other brands of tennis shoes, you know." "Don't worry," Mr. Leon responded. "I know how to handle situations like this. See, while I was waiting for you to get into the car before we left for the mall, I made a phone call with a friend who works here at this store. She told me to meet her up here, and mention the code word in front of her so that she can be signaled to take us to where all of the shoes are in their stocks." A few seconds of silence passed, with Rezzy having an empty expression on his face, unclear of whether he understood what his father said or not. "Riiight...," Rezzy responded, acting as if he did understand. The two then walked around the store for a minute or two, looking for Mr. Leon's friend.

"Hello there, Thomas!", Mr. Leon's friend welcomed.

"Hey there Ashley!," Mr. Leon responded. Ashley then turned to look at Rezzy. "And your name is?", she asked him.

"My name is Rezzy," he responded, shaking Ashley's hand. "Rezzy Leon."

"Ah, it's always such a pleasure to meet new people, especially if they're relatives of my friends! Wait... You are related to Thomas, aren't you?", she joked.

"Of course I am!", Rezzy responded. "I'm his son!"

"But I digress," Ashley conceded. "Follow me. I'll take you to the boots."

Thomas and Rezzy then followed Ashley into the stockroom of the store to get the boots she promised Thomas. As they were walking to where the boots were, Rezzy then turned to his father, asking about what to code word was.

"Um, dad?", Rezzy whispered.


"What was the code word?"

"What code word?"

"You know... the code word."

"And here we are!", interrupted Ashley.

Chapter 4: "Never mind the boots. We'll just go."

The three of them have arrived to where Ashley claimed the boots are. Inside a dark room, where the lighting was dim, all they could see was a white box on top of a pedestal. Ashley then grabbed the box, holding onto it. "Okay," she said, "Now, Thomas, I believe we had ourselves a deal." "Oh, right!", he responded. "How much do I owe you?"


"$1,500?! Bitch, you're tripping!"

"Not at the moment, I'm not."

"FINE! You take cash or credit?"

"Doesn't matter. Just as long as I have my money, you know."

"You know what? Never mind the boots. We'll just go..."

"NO! Don't go! Please! I've been through a LOT just to get these boots for you!"

"Hm... Open the box and show me that those actually are the boots first, before I even risk my money on such."

Ashley then hesistated to open the box, moving her right hand sliggishly over the top of it. "Now open it," Thomas demanded. "I'm opening it!", Ashley claimed. "Just give me a second, will ya?!" Rezzy then started to become concerned, as he started to notices Ashley's odd behavior. "Are you okay, Ashley?", Rezzy asked. "I am," she said in a somewhat shakey voice. The three were then interrupted as they heard a door slam open down the stockroom entrance.

"I think she's over here," one voice echoed. "We'll search throughout this room, too!", echoed another voice. Then footsteps started to be heard. By each second it got louder, as it started to approach the three of them. Eventually one man walked up to them. "AHA!", he said, pointing at Ashley. "Not only did I found our target, but there's two more with her!" "Now who the fuck are you?", Ashley asked out of confusion. "Ma'am," the man said, showing his FBI badge, "We're with the FBI, and we're arresting you three for illegal drug dealing." "Oh come on!", Ashely complained. "There are boots in that box! I swear!" "Riiight," the FBI agent said, opening the box. "Can you explain THIS!" Rezzy and Mr. Leon looked at each other, then looked at the inside of the shoebox. "Who knew she'd sell us weed and cocaine?", Rezzy said. "Obviously you two, since you WERE buying it after all!", replied the FBI agent. "All of you, put your hands behind your backs." "Well, isn't this great?", Rezzy pouted. "Getting arrested when it's Christmas time. Perfect." "I want a lawyer," Thomas said as soon as he was handcuffed.

Chapter 5: "Merry Christmas, Rezzy Leon"

The three were put into the back of a cop car, although there were three seperate cars to seperate the three from each other. Rezzy Leon was put into one car with one woman next to him who was handcuffed as well. "Stupid ass Santa," she complained. "I told you he was fake." Rezzy looked at her like she has problems, which, she does. I don't know what problems she has, but obviously they are some serious problems. "He never told me what the code word was," Rezzy said to himself. Two cops were sitting in the front seats of the car, discussing what they call a "drug bust". "So apparently she was using a code word to be signaled when she was going to give him the drugs," the cop driver said. "What was it?", the other cop asked. "The code word was...," the driver went on to say.

"Wait a minute," interrupted the other cop. "Let's go by to the Q Store over here to pick up some shoelaces. I've seem to lost mine whenever we arrested that loud woman who accused Santa of being fake."

© Anthony Romero, 2012


What I'm Thankful for in 2012

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! A few minutes ago, I was browsing some posts on the Coldplay fan forum, Coldplaying, and I came across this one post by a user named pansonic. He said:

“I am thankful for one simple fact.

No matter what happens in the short run, if you keep doing your thing, keep trusting yourself, sooner or later things will turn out your way.

I always try to remember that when things are looking sour - I tell myself that this is just a temporary glitch and that I should keep a stiff upper lip - and it usually is true”

I was going to say something similar to that, but he managed to say in a better way than I thought I would say it. Nonetheless, those are the words of hope I’ll stick to whenever I’m feeling down, because, well, I’m still going through some pretty tough times.

Now it’s time for me to list all of the things I’m thankful for! You don’t have to read the whole list, you can just skim through it while you’re eating turkey. If it’s still cooking, then you can just read it while you wait for that tasty bird to be ready! or ham, for those allergic to turkey…

I’m thankful for:

  • All of my family, friends, and fans, for their continuous support.
  • Frananthomeen
  • The letter “Q”
  • The fact that I told her how I feel for her and she still decides to talk and act friendly to me. (Don’t bother asking who.)
  • Being blessed with the most influential music I ever listened to. (Alex Lifeson, Asia, Asian Kung-Fu Generation, The Beatles, Cherri Bomb, Coldplay, David Bowie, Foo Fighters, Foxboro Hot Tubs, Frank Ocean, Gary Numan, Geddy Lee, Green Day, How to Destroy Angels, John Lennon, Masafumi Gotoh, Megadeth, Neil Peart, Nine Inch Nails, Paul Westerberg, The Police, Queensrÿche, Radiohead, The Replacements, Roger Waters, Rush, Smashing Pumpkins, Stewart Copeland, Ting Tings, Toadies, Tubeway Army, Weezer, Jack White, The White Stripes, Yellow Magic Orchestra)
  • Being blessed with the most awesome games I ever played, of course! (Animal Crossing, Crash Bandicoot classics, Kirby series, LittleBigPlanet 2, Mario Kart series, Sonic the Hedgehog, Spyro the Dragon classics, Super Smash Bros. series, Uncharted)
  • Being able to play and race with Jughead’s awesome Rich Petty Crew from 2009 to 2012. (Torus, I wouldn’t call off our rivalry!)
  • Steve Jobs and Bill Gates for the awesome technology I guess?
  • Everyone I ever met that has treated me so kind. Don’t worry, I treat them kind, too!
  • The Thanksgiving food, of course!
  • You for reading this.

Happy Thanksgiving! Be safe!


The Halloween Tale of Rezzy Leon

Author's note: Okay, so for the past few days of this month, I've been writing my "Halloween" story about a character, named, Rezzy Leon, a person who has a lot of problems, and in no way does he symbolizes me. It'll be the most confusing piece of literature you've ever read, as I doubt there's anything scary about this story. Enjoy, and happy Halloween!

Chapter One: "Back to the Q Store"

On a cold, breezy night, Rezzy Leon was walking home from somewhere... Like it really mattered where he was walking from anyways. It's not like he got laid or something, 'cause he didn't. Okay, fine, I'll tell you. He was walking home from the store to buy some Cheetos, alright? And you know what? They were sold out. Now Rezzy's walking home empty-handed all because the stupid stocker forgot to stock up some more Cheetos. But I digress...

Anyways, Rezzy was walking in about 50-degree weather, with ominous clouds in the dark sky. The date was October 30th, because October 31st would be too cliche. Depressed without his Cheetos, Rezzy walked with his head held down, listening to his Radiohead cassette of The Bends. He then notices that his shoe is untied. He kneels down to tie it. He gets back up. He continues to walk and then puts his head down and then notices something else... Both of his shoes are untied now. Previously, he tied the left shoe and had forgot to also tie his right shoe, but he didn't realize it because only his left shoe was untied at the moment. So now Rezzy kneels down again and ties both of his shoes. He gets back up again and continues walking. His head is now down again. Now his shoelaces are gone!

Now Rezzy is in a panic! He doesn't know where his shoelaces went! Now he is on a mission to look for it. He decides to go back to the store to purchase some new ones, but doesn't feel like walking. He decides to hitchhike. Rezzy then stretches out his right arm and makes a fist with his right hand. Now he lifts up his right thumb, giving the people driving by a sign that he wants a ride. Then, a red Toyota Prius slowly stops to the side of the road upon Rezzy Leon's request. Rezzy then walks up to the right side of the car, and opens the door to sit at the passenger's seat. He opens the door slowly, wary of the driver. The door screeches and the sound irritates Rezzy, giving him the serious case of the goosebumps, equivalent to the sound of nails scratching against a chalkboard. "This door needs some WD-40," Rezzy thought. Then, he finally takes a seat and closes the door, applying on the seatbelt.

The driver himself looked very intimidating, immediately putting Rezzy Leon in an uncomfortable state. The driver turned to look away from the road, and stares heavily and deeply into Rezzy's hazel brown eyes and asks in a squeaky high pitched innocent voice "Where do you need me to drive you, young gentleman?" Rezzy then responds in a shaky voice "I need a ride to the store.... I.... I, uh... just need to pick something up.

"Which store? There's literally, like, only a few stores that exists around here!"

"Um.... I just need to go to the Q Store."

"The Q Store?! You have got to be kidding me! Only the poor people shop there!"

Rezzy felt even more pressured by the driver, seeing how the driver opposes the idea of driving Rezzy to the Q Store.

"Just shut up and drive me there, please!" Rezzy ordered.

"Fine," the driver responded in a manner to where he didn't care anymore.

When Rezzy was dropped off, he tipped the driver a quarter. He then walked into the Q Store, and walked to section number 42, labeled "Footwear and Footwear Accessories". He then grabbed the only pair of shoelaces left on the shelf and makes his way to the checkout line. Of all the 101 checkout lines, only one was open...

Chapter Two: "Rezzy Leon and the Cashier"

Standing there, alone, with the shoelaces in his hand, Rezzy is hesitant on the fact that he must go to the only checkout line open. "NEXT PLEASE!", the cashier demanded. "Um... hello," Rezzy Leon mumbles to the cashier. "Hello, sir, have you found everything you needed on this fine night?", the cashier asks in a very relaxed voice.

"Um... yes, I have. And this night isn't fine for me."

"Why not?"

"Long story..."

"I'm sorry to hear. That'll be $2.13, by the way."

Rezzy then reaches in his pocket and pulls out two one-dollar bills, a dime, and two pennies, one penny short of paying the full price.

"Erm...", he says. "I'm a penny short."

"Sounds like a personal problem, sir," the cashier said carelessly.

"bitch," Rezzy mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Oh noth..."


A loud bang went off abruptly, causing the Q Store to go in a blackout. Everyone in the store started to be in a panic, wondering what happened. Rezzy overheard one person, asking if there was a blackout because the store was sold out of Halloween costumes. "Well, isn't this just perfect?," Rezzy says satirically.

"I still need that penny, sir," the cashier calmly demands. "I still need you to hold on a minute, um..." Rezzy then tries to look at the cashier's name tag, but cannot be able to do such, thanks to the pitch blackness in the store. "...yeah...," Rezzy utters, finishing his sentence.

"I'll need that penny sooner or later."

"Bitch, listen! The power went out, and I'm a penny short! Please! Calm your tits, PLEASE!"

"So what the power went out? I'm just trying to do my job."

"Oh yeah, so getting paid eight dollars an hour. That's a job."

"If I'm getting paid, it's a job."


Rezzy then turns around and yells out in the midst of everyone's panic, "DOES ANYONE HAVE A PENNY I CAN USE?"

"SIT THE FUCK DOWN AND WAIT UNTIL THE POWER COMES BACK ON!", one voice randomly yells in response. "Unbelievable!", Rezzy pouts.

To his misfortune, Rezzy just took back the cash he handed the cashier and walked out of the store empty-handed and sat on the concrete ground with his back up against the store wall. "It's too cold to sit out here," he says. He then decided to go back into the store, despite the fact that there's no power in there and there are people freaking out about it. Right when he walked in, someone had closed the door with a loud *CLUNK*, followed by the noise of chains, locking the doors. "WHY DID I JUST WALKED BACK IN HERE?!", Rezzy yelled. "Hey! I recognize that annoying voice!", the cashier says. "Sir, have you found a penny yet?"

Chapter 3: "A Stick Up the Sole"

It was clear that Rezzy Leon was in a sticky situation right here. Being locked inside a store that just had the power being knocked out and being a penny short of purchasing shoelaces is a situation that not even I would put myself in. But I guess he walked right into that one... All Rezzy could do was just sit in the blackness and listen to everyone panic, wondering why the doors would be chained shut, and most importantly, who would do such.

"THIS IS A STICK UP!", one voice abruptly yells. This made Rezzy jump, being startled from the shout of one guy.

"YEAH!", another voice shouts.

"NO! You shut up Trent!", the guy who ordered a stick-up responded.

"What? I was just backing ya up. You know, that's what bros are for, right?", Trent says.

"Just shut up and start grabbing wallets!" the guy demanded. After that, Rezzy heard the sound of him handing Trent a flashlight, as he heard the click followed by a glare of light shining off the walls.

"Alright, guys, listen up!" the guy shouted. "I'm going to come around here, and I understand it's dark, but please give me your wallets by placing them in the garbage bag I have here in my hand. It's a white bag so it could be made seen easily. AND IT'S HEAVY DUTY, THANKS TO ME GETTING GLAD!"

"You dumbass," Trent said, slapping the guy in the back of the head, "You're not supposed to be understanding with your victims, NOR DO YOU SAY PLEASE!"

"I... I'm sorry Trent," he said apologetically.

Trent then sighed, and took the bag away from him and started to wander around the store, collecting the wallets of those who weren't panicking.

While Trent was walking around doing his job, his partner in crime yelled out "AND WE'RE NOT BUSTING THE LOCKS ON THIS DOOR UNTIL WE GET EVERYONE'S WALLET!" Rezzy doesn't have a wallet. "I don't have a wallet," Rezzy said to himself. See? I told you he doesn't have a wallet. "Looks like I'm not coming home tonight," Rezzy said in sadness. By the time Trent came to Rezzy Leon with the bag, he had forgotten all about the penny situation. "In the bag," Trent bossed Rezzy. "I'm sorry," he responded. "Me no have el walleto."

"What?", Trent said out of confusion.


"Look, quit acting retarded and give me your wallet already."

"Listen, you bastard, how many other languages do I have to tell you that I don't have a wallet?"

"Then I guess you'll have to give me something else instead. GIVE ME MONEY!"

"I don't even have enough money to buy my own shoelaces."

"Then give me your shoe."

"How are you going to tie them when they have no shoelaces?"

"Do they have soles?"

"Yes, they actually do have a sole."

"Bless your poor soul."

"Now go collect that cashier's wallet. She's been a bitch to me."

Just as when Trent was going towards the cashier, a loud crash from Rezzy's right was heard. When Rezzy turned to see what it was, a car had crashed into the side of the store, as even more panic aroused amongst the shoppers in the store themselves. "Hey, that car looks familiar," Rezzy said. He dashed over towards the wreckage of the car. Through the hole of the damaged wall, Rezzy took notice of the streetlights giving light towards the car and saw that the color of the car was red. "HEY, SAILOR!" yelled the guy from inside the car, looking at Rezzy. "Um... Hey there," Rezzy responded.

"Do you remember me? I gave you a ride to this dump store."

"And your ride just crashed into the dump."

Chapter 4: "Uh huh... The fourth chapter."

"Why am I even talking to you?!", Rezzy asked. "You just crashed your whole car into the freaking building, and you act as if you don't care about it! YOU COULD'VE DIED!" "Oh," the driver said to Rezzy, "I knew that." Just as Rezzy was about to say something, Trent came walking towards the two. "You," he said, pointing to the driver, "put your wallet in the garbage bag. Now!" "Or else?", the driver said.

"Or else I'm gonna, um... uh..."

"Force us to dance Gangnam style?", Rezzy said satirically.

"What?", both, the driver and Trent asked in confusion.

"Ugh...," Rezzy facepalmed. "You two have no idea what we find entertaining in this generation, don't you?"

"What's the point of all this again?", the driver asked.

"Look," Trent said, "all I'm asking is for you to put your wallet into the bag. Wait... Why did you wrecked your car into the building anyways?"

"Well," the driver began to explain, "I gave this young fellow a ride to the store," he said, pointing to Rezzy. "After I dropped him off, I decided to park my car in the lot while I wait for him to exit the store."

"But you never told me anything like, "I'll be here to pick you up,"" Rezzy pointed out.

"Ah," the driver said, "that is true."

"So how would I know you would pick me up when I exit the store?"

"Well, you obviously had no other source of transportation. My plan was to pull up next to you and offer a ride home."

"stalker," Rezzy whispered.

"Stalker? Sure. After, I'm just trying to help out the community," the driver said, taking his wallet out of his pocket. "You want my wallet, sir?" the driver asked Trent. "That'd be greatly appreciated," Trent said, "but you never told me why you crashed your car into the building."

"Ah," te driver said, "that is true. "Shortly after I parked my car, I saw two guys dressed in black walk into the store just after I saw the blackout occur. I got a little concerned, so I decided to try to enter the store to see what's all the comotion about. Turned out, the doors were locked, as I heard the sound of locks on the doors."

"And that gives you the right to crash your whole fucking car into the building, rather than calling 911 for help?", Trent snarled.

"Actually, I really don't need to dial 911, unless I need backup," the driver responded.

"Backup?", both, Rezzy and Trent asked.

"Oh, I guess I haven't told ya'll."

The driver then opened his wallet and asked Trent to shed some light on it. As soon as he did, a glare from the driver's badge's glare temporarily blinded Trent, having to look away for a few seconds. "Wait...," Rezzy said. "You're telling me that you're an undercover cop? I still don't see why you crashed your car into the store when you could've simply called for backup!" "Ah," the driver said, "that is true, but that's a company car. I don't personally own it. That's just what the police force gave me for my job. Plus, I have insurance to get this all fixed up, and on top of that, I don't like Toyotas... Now," he turned to Trent, "put your hands behind your back. You're being arrested for robbery with... a, um... flashlight."


"FUCK THIS," Rezzy panicked, "I'M OUTTA HERE!"

Just as Rezzy ran through the giant hole in the wall, he started to hear gunshots from the inside of the store. Rezzy ran out, not wanting to look back. He was only about five miles away from home, but he could barely run one mile in thirteen minutes. You do the math... That'd take about an hour and five minutes for Rezzy to arrive back home. It's 11 PM now. I'm pretty sure Rezzy's parents are worried about his well being now.

About halfway into Rezzy's frantic run home, he saw a white car pulled over to the side of the road. A person got out of the car who was appearing to be riding in the passenger seat. Turned out, it was the driver, but I guess he's not the driver in this case, as he simply wasn't driving at the time. "Hey sailor!", he said to Rezzy, "Need a ride?" "Eh, sure...," Rezzy replied. The two then entered the car. Rezzy was then taken home, after he told the driver of the car where he lived. "Never will I hitchhike again," he told the guys in the car before he was dropped off to his house.

So there you guys have it. One of the many tales of Rezzy Leon, except this one took place on October 30th, because October 31st would be too cliche for a Halloween story. What's the moral of this whole story? Remember to tie your shoes.

© 2012 Anthony Romero, All rights reserved.

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