Fic: Machinery
18/1/11 05:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
neveralarchSo, I saw Green Hornet on Sunday. I guess a lot of people didn't like it that much, but I went with my brother and, not gonna lie, it was pretty amazing. It wasn't much like the radio plays I used to listen to, but it didn't bother me. There was never a point where we weren't either laughing or saying "oh my god, oh shit" and generally making the seven other people in the theater hate us. Sorry, people in the theater!
So, then I came home and wrote fic. It is not fic about the epic love of Kato and Britt, despite how hard the movie pushed that agenda. It is not fic about Casey, despite her being awesome. No, it is fic about the one-dimensional murderous Chudnofsky, the villain with a mid-life crisis. Because I am nothing if not predictable.
Machinery
Green Hornet (2011 Film)
Rating: PG-13
(violence, torture)
Characters: Chudnofsky, Chili
Wordcount: 600ish
Summary: Chili really doesn't want to give his boss the bad news. Set immediately before Chudnofsky's first scene in the film.
Chili hesitated before pushing open the door. The boss had been acting a little strange lately, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get in the middle of it.
Still, Chudnofsky had to be told, and that was that. The rogue night club was getting popular, and the cheaper drugs there were starting to cut into profits.
Chili knocked on the door.
"Ingress!"
"Hey, boss," said Chili, coming in, "I just wanted to, shit!" He half-hid behind the door, sheltering from the splatter of blood and skin.
Chudnofsky turned off the belt sander.
"Oh, sorry," he said. "I did not think. Your poor suit, I hope it will not be too much trouble for the drycleaners."
"No, it's cool," said Chili, speaking loudly to be heard over the strangled whimpers of whoever the poor bastard was that Chudnofsky had tied to the table. "Do you have a minute? We need to talk."
"Sure," said Chudnofsky, he set the sander aside and leaned back on his desk. "James here will wait for me, won't you, James?" James whimpered some more, in a slightly higher register. Chudnofsky turned his attention to Chili and tilted his head to show he was listening.
"Okay, so," Chili looked at a point just beyond his boss' left ear, where he didn't have to see either the blood or the indulgent expression Chudnofsky was wearing. Neither really bothered him in isolation, but juxtaposed they were just creepy. "So," Chili started again, "you remember that night club we were talking about? That kid Clear's new place."
"I recollect," said Chudnofsky. "You said it would not be a problem. You said I should not go down there."
"Well," said Chili. "It's a bit of a problem."
"And I should go down there."
"I don't know about that, Boss," Chili tried to smile, lips closed so that it couldn't be misconstrued as some sort of threatening display of teeth. "I don't mind taking care of it myself."
"It is good for me to get out." Chudnofsky shrugged. "It is important to be witnessed, is it not? People must not forget that I am in control of LA."
"Yeah, of course, but-"
"But what?" Chudnofsky's face turned wistful and expectant. "You can tell me, my friend."
You're a scrawny old white guy, Chili didn't say. You talk funny, and not because you're an immigrant. You talk funny because you learned English from a daily word calendar. You believe in the value of hard work and the American dream and everything else that my grandma always told me was important. How you look at me when I've messed up a hit is actually pretty much the same as how my grandma used to look at me when I reached across the table for salt instead of asking for it, Chili didn't say.
"Nothing," said Chili, instead. "Just James' whining getting to me."
"Oh." Chudnofsky glanced over at James, whose whimpers were getting progressively louder and shriller. He'd probably be screaming if it weren't for the gag. "This I can rectify. We leave for Clear's club in five minutes."
"I'll get Popeye to bring the car around," said Chili, and closed the door before Chudnofsky could pick up the sander again.
Chili couldn't imagine that a meeting between Chudnofsky and Clear would go well, but as long as it kept Chudnofsky's attention focused on someone else, it was fine. Absolutely fine.
James finally managed a scream, one which trailed off into a wet noise that echoed through the corridor outside Chudnofsky's office. Chili winced and decided to forget about it.
So, then I came home and wrote fic. It is not fic about the epic love of Kato and Britt, despite how hard the movie pushed that agenda. It is not fic about Casey, despite her being awesome. No, it is fic about the one-dimensional murderous Chudnofsky, the villain with a mid-life crisis. Because I am nothing if not predictable.
Machinery
Green Hornet (2011 Film)
Rating: PG-13
(violence, torture)
Characters: Chudnofsky, Chili
Wordcount: 600ish
Summary: Chili really doesn't want to give his boss the bad news. Set immediately before Chudnofsky's first scene in the film.
Chili hesitated before pushing open the door. The boss had been acting a little strange lately, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get in the middle of it.
Still, Chudnofsky had to be told, and that was that. The rogue night club was getting popular, and the cheaper drugs there were starting to cut into profits.
Chili knocked on the door.
"Ingress!"
"Hey, boss," said Chili, coming in, "I just wanted to, shit!" He half-hid behind the door, sheltering from the splatter of blood and skin.
Chudnofsky turned off the belt sander.
"Oh, sorry," he said. "I did not think. Your poor suit, I hope it will not be too much trouble for the drycleaners."
"No, it's cool," said Chili, speaking loudly to be heard over the strangled whimpers of whoever the poor bastard was that Chudnofsky had tied to the table. "Do you have a minute? We need to talk."
"Sure," said Chudnofsky, he set the sander aside and leaned back on his desk. "James here will wait for me, won't you, James?" James whimpered some more, in a slightly higher register. Chudnofsky turned his attention to Chili and tilted his head to show he was listening.
"Okay, so," Chili looked at a point just beyond his boss' left ear, where he didn't have to see either the blood or the indulgent expression Chudnofsky was wearing. Neither really bothered him in isolation, but juxtaposed they were just creepy. "So," Chili started again, "you remember that night club we were talking about? That kid Clear's new place."
"I recollect," said Chudnofsky. "You said it would not be a problem. You said I should not go down there."
"Well," said Chili. "It's a bit of a problem."
"And I should go down there."
"I don't know about that, Boss," Chili tried to smile, lips closed so that it couldn't be misconstrued as some sort of threatening display of teeth. "I don't mind taking care of it myself."
"It is good for me to get out." Chudnofsky shrugged. "It is important to be witnessed, is it not? People must not forget that I am in control of LA."
"Yeah, of course, but-"
"But what?" Chudnofsky's face turned wistful and expectant. "You can tell me, my friend."
You're a scrawny old white guy, Chili didn't say. You talk funny, and not because you're an immigrant. You talk funny because you learned English from a daily word calendar. You believe in the value of hard work and the American dream and everything else that my grandma always told me was important. How you look at me when I've messed up a hit is actually pretty much the same as how my grandma used to look at me when I reached across the table for salt instead of asking for it, Chili didn't say.
"Nothing," said Chili, instead. "Just James' whining getting to me."
"Oh." Chudnofsky glanced over at James, whose whimpers were getting progressively louder and shriller. He'd probably be screaming if it weren't for the gag. "This I can rectify. We leave for Clear's club in five minutes."
"I'll get Popeye to bring the car around," said Chili, and closed the door before Chudnofsky could pick up the sander again.
Chili couldn't imagine that a meeting between Chudnofsky and Clear would go well, but as long as it kept Chudnofsky's attention focused on someone else, it was fine. Absolutely fine.
James finally managed a scream, one which trailed off into a wet noise that echoed through the corridor outside Chudnofsky's office. Chili winced and decided to forget about it.
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no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 05:53 am (UTC)Also - the most annoying thing in the movie, for me, was that so many of the bad guys didn't think insulting Chudnofsky or disagreeing with him would end horribly for them. Thank you for giving one of them some intelligence! XD
You're a scrawny old white guy, Chili didn't say. You talk funny, and not because you're an immigrant. You talk funny because you learned English from a daily word calendar. You believe in the value of hard work and the American dream and everything else that my grandma always told me was important.
That entire thing is my favorite line :P
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 04:10 pm (UTC)I think Chudnofsky suckers you in by acting like he actually cares or wants to hear your opinion. Although you think eventually one of the mobsters would learn from experience...
no subject
Date: 2011-02-07 12:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-07 03:39 pm (UTC)