The Life of Chris Kirkpatrick - a Basez/Timbertrick/Choey AU - CH 2
“Sit down, Kirkpatrick.” Everyone winces at the volume of the speaker system in the small room. “Honestly, now, why can’t they turn that dang thing down?” Johnny said. Chris cleared his throat. “My attorney respectfully requests that you turn down the volume on the loud speaker.” “Kirkpatrick,” the guard said sternly. “Sit. Down.” Chris sat down and offered a small smile to Lance. “They’re practicing being cruel and unusual.” Lance gave a slight chuckle at that.
He regarded the man, the criminal, the subject of his biggest story, and he felt a bit ridiculous. He expected to be placed before a vial monster, instead he saw a man. A tired man with deep, dark circles beneath his sad, chocolate brown eyes, stubble shyly creeping upon his face, and almost jet black hair that was growing out from a buzz cut that was there before. He had seen pictures of this man before everything had happened. He was a bright presence; an unconventional professor who taught philosophy who would not conform. He would spike his hair and wear a continual goatee, no matter how clean cut his colleagues were, and there was always a smile. Now, there just remain laugh lines, a reminder of the man he once was.
“I’m sure y’all are biting at the bit to get started. What do you plan to do with yourself, JC? There is only one guest allowed per inmate.” JC cleared his throat. “The magazine prefers that I be-”“Alone. Agreed.” JC looked to Lance, but bit his cheek and nodded. “Fine.” “Okay, well, you have two hours a day, three days and no recording devices. I also have some papers that need your John Hancock, so please drop by my Austin office at your earliest convenience.” Lance nodded as he handed him a business card. “So, JC, what say you and I partake in a fine cigarette in the visitors parking lot?” JC shrugged nervously as the slightly larger man slung an arm around his shoulders. “Sure.” JC shot Lance a nervous look, but Lance gave him a little wave off. “Bye bye, y’all!” Johnny called out as they left. So Lance turned to face Chris. “So...” “Sorry, please, have a seat.”
Lance sat down and let out a breath. “So, he’s, uh, quite a character.” Chris chuckled softly. “Yeah. He’s one of my best friends. When my mom died, I grew up in foster homes, so it was hard to attach myself to people.” Chris avoided eye contact. “He’s the only contact I have outside of this.” He made a hand gesture. Lance nodded. “I understand.” He pulled out a pen and pad of paper. “Does this count as a recording device?” Chris let out a low chuckle, a prison guard leering at him, and he stifled himself quickly. “If you have anything you want to say off the record, you can trust me that I’ll take it to my grave.” Lance said, uncapping his pen. “How should we start?” Chris bit his lip. “Maybe we should begin with my job. I was a professor, the head of the philosophy department at Austin University.”
~*~
“What do you all fantasize about? World peace?” Chris looked over the vast amount of students sitting in his class. He chuckled. “Thought so.” His students laugh. He is one of the most popular teachers with one of the most popular courses in the whole university. He has a good relationship with his pupils and he makes their lessons enjoyable as well as memorable.
“How about international fame?” The students show their agreement enthusiastically. “Perhaps a Nobel Peace Prize? The Pulitzer? An MTV video award?” The students laugh. “A genius hunk ostensibly bad but secretly simmering with noble passion and willing to sleep on the wet spot?” He said, tilting an eyebrow. The female students roar with approval. “I’ll take two!” Chris laughs. “Kimberly will take two!” Chris repeated, chuckling with approval.
“You all see Lacan’s point. Fantasies must be unrealistic. The minute you get something, you won’t, YOU CAN’T, want it anymore. To exist, desire needs absent objects. So desire supports itself with crazy fantasies-” Chris’ stirring lecture is interrupted by a door opening loudly and a student stumbling in. “Sorry.” All attention is turned onto grad student Justin Timberlake. Justin is the star basketball player on campus. A typical brainless pretty boy with dazzling blue eyes and a curly mop top.
Chris clears his throat and waits for Justin to take his seat. He notices the person beside him, no doubt a roommate or friend, pass an envelope. No doubt another notice telling him to raise his grades, he thinks irritated.
“Anyhow, this is what Pascal means when he says we are only truly happy when we day dream about the future. Or when we say the hunt is sweeter than the kill. It’s not the ‘it’ we crave, it’s the fantasy of ‘it’.” Chris’ lecture is once again interrupted by the shrill ring of the bell. “Alright, then, I’ll see you all on Monday!” Chris walked to his desk to pack up for the day and nodded at the students who bid him farewell. He was almost done packing up when he noticed someone standing in front of his desk. “Mr. Kirkpatrick?” Chris sighed. “Yes, Justin? How can I help you? ” He said with no enthusiasm. He looked up at the preppy boy who was biting his lip. Oh no, here he goes, Chris thought, he’s going to throw a rich child fit to get his way about something.
“Sorry about being late. There was, you know, a thing.” Chris scoffed. “Yeah, there usually is Justin.” Justin sighed and leaned forward a bit suggestively. “Look, I know I’m not doing that well,” Understatement of the year, Chris thought wryly, “And to torture the cliche, I’ll do anything to pass.” Chris looked up at Justin furrowing his brows. You have got to be kidding, was his initial thought. “Anything, huh?” Justin raised his eyebrows. “Any,” Justin licked his lips and lowered his voice deeply, “Thing.”
Chris chuckled and sat up, leaning in close to Justin. Everyone knew he was gay, but he has never been prepostitioned like this, but he was prepared. “Okay, Justin,” He said, looking into his eyes, “I’ll give you a good grade. I will give you a very, VERY good grade.” Chris leaned in to brush his cheek against Justin’s ever so slightly, feeling him shiver. “If you would,” He leaned in further, “Just,” He put his lips right up to his ear, lowering his voice huskily. “Study.” He went back to his bag and slung it over his shoulder, bumping Justin’s shoulder on the way out and leaving him behind to let what he said sink in.
~*~
“Chris!” Chris turned as he was walking down the hall and the smile swept across his face. “Joe, hey!” Chris’ friend and colleague at the university, Joe Fatone, trailed behind him. He taught English at the university and had been friends with Chris ever since they both started teaching. He slowed a bit so that Joe could catch up. “Your getting a little soggy around your equator, Joe, you would think that after 5 years you would have made use of the work out facilities.” “Oh shut up.” He pulled out a packet from his bag. “The transcript from the Governor’s interview, I presume?” “Yeah,” Joe said, “Reporter: ‘Governor, don’t you think 5 executions in one month is a little excessive?’ Governor” ‘I say let’s strap them down, hook them up, and rock and roll.’” Chris scoffed. “Good to know that Governor Pearlmen is in touch with his inner frat boy. Tell me again why you’re not doing this debate?” “Telegenics. You have a cuter butt.” “I hadn’t noticed” “I know.” Chris rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” They walked in silence until they reached the quad.
“They’ll do the whole down home thing. Forget about the separation of church and state. Just make sure you bring up the points we talked about and watch your ego. Don’t come across as one of those ‘I hate authority figures because everyone here wears a big hat and no one reads the New Yorker’, alright?” Chris nodded. “Anything else, mother?” Joe laughed. “Yeah, I get the new stats from Amnesty tonight.” “Fax them to me. I’m going to Greer’s party tonight.” Joe groaned. “I swear, if you have a hang over tomorrow-”“I won’t!” Joe rolled his eyes. “I just worry, that’s all. And don’t do anything stupid.” Chris scoffed again. “Bye, Joe.” He said, walking through the throngs of people and away from. “Ten o’clock! Bright eyed and bush tailed!” “Bushy tailed!” Chris called back.
~*~
Chris tipped his head back and took a shot as everyone applauded. He felt a pat on his shoulder and nearly dropped his glass. He turned and saw smiled. “Greer. About time I saw you tonight. Too busy playing host to say hi to me?” Greer, another colleague of Chris’ who taught human anatomy, laughed at him. “Oh, man, it’s a good thing you’re getting buzzed. Guess who’s here tonight?” Chris sighed. “I give up, who?” “Justin.” Chris laughed. “Oh boy, who’d he fuck to get here tonight?” Greer frowned. “They expelled him, Chris.” Chris gulped. “Uh-oh.”
He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. “Talkin’ about me?” He turned to Justin, who slurred in his ear. “Justin, hello.” Greer said without enthusiasm. “Did they tell you that when you were circumcised they threw the wrong part out?” Greer rolled his eyes but Chris humored him. “Yeah, it’s the ‘schmuck’, I believe they called it ‘schmuck’.” Greer walked away and Justin stared at Chris angrily. “You were a jerk this afternoon.” Chris shrugged. “If it’s any conciliation, I didn’t know about the expulsion until just now.” Justin leered at him. “Is that supposed to be an apology?” Chris shook his head. “More a reconciliation.” He shrugged the younger man off of him. “Excuse me.”
Chris stumbled upstairs and past students making out on the stairs and went to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and pissed. When he wasn’t even done washing his hands, someone turned the doorknob. “Alright, I’m almost done!” Chris called out. He turned when the door closed and Justin was leaning suggestively against the closed door. “I’m not a student anymore.” Chris raised his eyebrow. “I don’t think I want to know what that means.”
Justin bit his lip. “I have a secret, but I have to come over there to tell you.” He began to sway over to Chris and cornered him against the sink. “No, no, boy, stay back.” Chris fought drunkenly. Justin pinned his body against the sink and put his hands on the older man’s hips. “I wasn’t in it for the grade.” He whispered in his ear. Chris shuddered. He suddenly felt out of control, and he was supposed to be the authority figure. “Justin, this, this isn’t-“ Justin put his finger on Chris’ lips to silence him. “We can talk, contemplate...or you can put your lips on my body. Don’t reject me.” Chris melted when he felt the younger man’s lips against his. He detested Justin, but he hadn’t been intimate with anyone in a long time, so he gave in to temptation. It also didn’t help his judgement that he wasn’t sober either.
They kissed and Justin tore off Chris' clothes, demanding Chris do the same. He growled Chris bite him repeatedly, harder, harder, to fuck him without the aid of lube. They had rough sex as Justin dragged his finger nails across and into Chris' hips, leaving vicious red marks on his pale skin.
They both have their orgasm and as the heat dies down, the music downstairs is shut off as Greer confirms that the party is over. They both part and take deep breaths. Chris refuses to look at him ashamed, while Justin has an odd smile on his lips.
~*~
Chris stares at the ashtray on the table as Joey speaks. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was that night. He also knows the rasher of shit he’ll get when Joey finds out. “Stop that!” Chris looks up. “What?” “Active listening. I hate active listening. Did you bring the amnesty fax?” “Yes,” Chris blinked, “No, I left it at home.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Joey sighed. “It’s okay, I brought a copy.” Chris sat there, trying to retain himself. “What happened last night?” “You don’t want to know. I did something stupid.” Joey scoffed. “I hope you used a condom.” Chris didn’t look up. Joey sighed. “Jesus, Christ, Chris! What was his name?” Chris sighed. “Justin.” “Ah-ha, great! That’s fucking great. Now they’re going to say that they expelled him so Kirkpatrick could dick him with a clear conscience.” “Joey, stop acting like you’re my wife or something, alright!” “Well, that’s not a position I aspire to, so fuck you!” He said, grabbing his head like he was in pain and sighing. “Are you alright?” “Yes.” Joey said, grabbing his bag. “Are you sure?” “Yes!” They packed up and left the coffee shop.
~*~
“Welcome back to Batter’s Box. Today as part of our special four part debate, we have with us today Governor of Texas Lou Pearlmen and professor and Death Watch coordinator Chris Kirkpatrick. Welcome and thank you both for joining us today.” The host said. They both nodded. “So, let’s start with your position, Governor.” “Well, Alan, I hate killing, and my administration will kill to stop it.” “So you don’t subscribe to the idea that ‘a state is a good one that protects its most despised members’?” Governor Pearlmen laughed. “That’s fuzzy liberal thinking.” Chris smiled. “You said that in your latest campaign Governor. The host chuckled. “‘If you’re not a liberal at 20 you’ve got no heart, if you’re still a liberal at 30, you’ve got no brain.’ That’s Winston Churchill.” Chris cleared his throat. “So you feel, to choose another quote, that ‘society must be cleansed of elements that represent its own death’?” The Governor nodded. “Is that another one of my campaign quotes?” Chris picked up a glass of water. “Oh no, sir, that was Hitler.” The host laughed heartily. “He got you there, Governor.”
“Now, Governor, can’t we all just admit that this system is just out of date and inaccurate. Most of the studies that have been done statically on the death penalty is based on bad numbers and junk science. And not to mention that three of the people that you put to death this year, senator, had lawyers that fell asleep during their arraignment!”“I’m not a lawyer.”“You are supporting a system that outs innocent people to death, sir!” “Alright, fine, name one! Name one person who Texas has put to death in my tenure, one.” Chris sighed, knowing he crossed a line. “A dead man can’t make a case.” “Well then, as my daddy used to say, if you can’t see a problem, then there probably isn’t one.” Chris sighs.
~*~
“Your exact words were ‘tell me when my ego is getting in the way of my work.’ Well, your ego is getting in the way of your work!” Joe yelled at Chris as they walked through the municipal parking lot. “Look, I wanted you to do this instead of me in the first place.” “You put up exactly two seconds of protest at the thought of being on a televised debate!” Chris stopped walking. “What the hell does that mean?” Joe stopped and faced him. “Deathwatch suffers because you’re so anxious to finger authority and show that Chris Kirkpatrick is so much fucking smarter than the powers to be! Try squeezing money from the donor list, Chris, have you even licked one stamp to mail off envelopes?” Chris jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Kirkpatrick?” Chris turned at the two cops and sighed. “You guys missed the Governor, he went that way.” “We’re here to arrest you, not see him.” Chris scoffed. “What, is it against the law to debate the Governor?” They grabbed him and shoved him around throwing cuffs on him. “No sir, rape is.”
~*~
“He had my bite marks, skin under my fingernails-” “Time’s up Kirkpatrick!” Chris sighed and looked at Lance desperately. “It didn’t look like anything but rape. When the court date came up, he didn’t want to testify, dropping the charges and making it look like he was too scared to face me.” Lance jotted it all down as Chris stood against the door and was cuffed. “Do you know where I can contact him?” Chris shrugged. “First year here, I received a postcard from San Francisco signed by her.” Lance looked up. “What did it say?” Chris sighed. “‘I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.’” Chris turned and was led back to his cell, leaving Lance to contemplate what he told him.
He regarded the man, the criminal, the subject of his biggest story, and he felt a bit ridiculous. He expected to be placed before a vial monster, instead he saw a man. A tired man with deep, dark circles beneath his sad, chocolate brown eyes, stubble shyly creeping upon his face, and almost jet black hair that was growing out from a buzz cut that was there before. He had seen pictures of this man before everything had happened. He was a bright presence; an unconventional professor who taught philosophy who would not conform. He would spike his hair and wear a continual goatee, no matter how clean cut his colleagues were, and there was always a smile. Now, there just remain laugh lines, a reminder of the man he once was.
“I’m sure y’all are biting at the bit to get started. What do you plan to do with yourself, JC? There is only one guest allowed per inmate.” JC cleared his throat. “The magazine prefers that I be-”“Alone. Agreed.” JC looked to Lance, but bit his cheek and nodded. “Fine.” “Okay, well, you have two hours a day, three days and no recording devices. I also have some papers that need your John Hancock, so please drop by my Austin office at your earliest convenience.” Lance nodded as he handed him a business card. “So, JC, what say you and I partake in a fine cigarette in the visitors parking lot?” JC shrugged nervously as the slightly larger man slung an arm around his shoulders. “Sure.” JC shot Lance a nervous look, but Lance gave him a little wave off. “Bye bye, y’all!” Johnny called out as they left. So Lance turned to face Chris. “So...” “Sorry, please, have a seat.”
Lance sat down and let out a breath. “So, he’s, uh, quite a character.” Chris chuckled softly. “Yeah. He’s one of my best friends. When my mom died, I grew up in foster homes, so it was hard to attach myself to people.” Chris avoided eye contact. “He’s the only contact I have outside of this.” He made a hand gesture. Lance nodded. “I understand.” He pulled out a pen and pad of paper. “Does this count as a recording device?” Chris let out a low chuckle, a prison guard leering at him, and he stifled himself quickly. “If you have anything you want to say off the record, you can trust me that I’ll take it to my grave.” Lance said, uncapping his pen. “How should we start?” Chris bit his lip. “Maybe we should begin with my job. I was a professor, the head of the philosophy department at Austin University.”
~*~
“What do you all fantasize about? World peace?” Chris looked over the vast amount of students sitting in his class. He chuckled. “Thought so.” His students laugh. He is one of the most popular teachers with one of the most popular courses in the whole university. He has a good relationship with his pupils and he makes their lessons enjoyable as well as memorable.
“How about international fame?” The students show their agreement enthusiastically. “Perhaps a Nobel Peace Prize? The Pulitzer? An MTV video award?” The students laugh. “A genius hunk ostensibly bad but secretly simmering with noble passion and willing to sleep on the wet spot?” He said, tilting an eyebrow. The female students roar with approval. “I’ll take two!” Chris laughs. “Kimberly will take two!” Chris repeated, chuckling with approval.
“You all see Lacan’s point. Fantasies must be unrealistic. The minute you get something, you won’t, YOU CAN’T, want it anymore. To exist, desire needs absent objects. So desire supports itself with crazy fantasies-” Chris’ stirring lecture is interrupted by a door opening loudly and a student stumbling in. “Sorry.” All attention is turned onto grad student Justin Timberlake. Justin is the star basketball player on campus. A typical brainless pretty boy with dazzling blue eyes and a curly mop top.
Chris clears his throat and waits for Justin to take his seat. He notices the person beside him, no doubt a roommate or friend, pass an envelope. No doubt another notice telling him to raise his grades, he thinks irritated.
“Anyhow, this is what Pascal means when he says we are only truly happy when we day dream about the future. Or when we say the hunt is sweeter than the kill. It’s not the ‘it’ we crave, it’s the fantasy of ‘it’.” Chris’ lecture is once again interrupted by the shrill ring of the bell. “Alright, then, I’ll see you all on Monday!” Chris walked to his desk to pack up for the day and nodded at the students who bid him farewell. He was almost done packing up when he noticed someone standing in front of his desk. “Mr. Kirkpatrick?” Chris sighed. “Yes, Justin? How can I help you? ” He said with no enthusiasm. He looked up at the preppy boy who was biting his lip. Oh no, here he goes, Chris thought, he’s going to throw a rich child fit to get his way about something.
“Sorry about being late. There was, you know, a thing.” Chris scoffed. “Yeah, there usually is Justin.” Justin sighed and leaned forward a bit suggestively. “Look, I know I’m not doing that well,” Understatement of the year, Chris thought wryly, “And to torture the cliche, I’ll do anything to pass.” Chris looked up at Justin furrowing his brows. You have got to be kidding, was his initial thought. “Anything, huh?” Justin raised his eyebrows. “Any,” Justin licked his lips and lowered his voice deeply, “Thing.”
Chris chuckled and sat up, leaning in close to Justin. Everyone knew he was gay, but he has never been prepostitioned like this, but he was prepared. “Okay, Justin,” He said, looking into his eyes, “I’ll give you a good grade. I will give you a very, VERY good grade.” Chris leaned in to brush his cheek against Justin’s ever so slightly, feeling him shiver. “If you would,” He leaned in further, “Just,” He put his lips right up to his ear, lowering his voice huskily. “Study.” He went back to his bag and slung it over his shoulder, bumping Justin’s shoulder on the way out and leaving him behind to let what he said sink in.
~*~
“Chris!” Chris turned as he was walking down the hall and the smile swept across his face. “Joe, hey!” Chris’ friend and colleague at the university, Joe Fatone, trailed behind him. He taught English at the university and had been friends with Chris ever since they both started teaching. He slowed a bit so that Joe could catch up. “Your getting a little soggy around your equator, Joe, you would think that after 5 years you would have made use of the work out facilities.” “Oh shut up.” He pulled out a packet from his bag. “The transcript from the Governor’s interview, I presume?” “Yeah,” Joe said, “Reporter: ‘Governor, don’t you think 5 executions in one month is a little excessive?’ Governor” ‘I say let’s strap them down, hook them up, and rock and roll.’” Chris scoffed. “Good to know that Governor Pearlmen is in touch with his inner frat boy. Tell me again why you’re not doing this debate?” “Telegenics. You have a cuter butt.” “I hadn’t noticed” “I know.” Chris rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” They walked in silence until they reached the quad.
“They’ll do the whole down home thing. Forget about the separation of church and state. Just make sure you bring up the points we talked about and watch your ego. Don’t come across as one of those ‘I hate authority figures because everyone here wears a big hat and no one reads the New Yorker’, alright?” Chris nodded. “Anything else, mother?” Joe laughed. “Yeah, I get the new stats from Amnesty tonight.” “Fax them to me. I’m going to Greer’s party tonight.” Joe groaned. “I swear, if you have a hang over tomorrow-”“I won’t!” Joe rolled his eyes. “I just worry, that’s all. And don’t do anything stupid.” Chris scoffed again. “Bye, Joe.” He said, walking through the throngs of people and away from. “Ten o’clock! Bright eyed and bush tailed!” “Bushy tailed!” Chris called back.
~*~
Chris tipped his head back and took a shot as everyone applauded. He felt a pat on his shoulder and nearly dropped his glass. He turned and saw smiled. “Greer. About time I saw you tonight. Too busy playing host to say hi to me?” Greer, another colleague of Chris’ who taught human anatomy, laughed at him. “Oh, man, it’s a good thing you’re getting buzzed. Guess who’s here tonight?” Chris sighed. “I give up, who?” “Justin.” Chris laughed. “Oh boy, who’d he fuck to get here tonight?” Greer frowned. “They expelled him, Chris.” Chris gulped. “Uh-oh.”
He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. “Talkin’ about me?” He turned to Justin, who slurred in his ear. “Justin, hello.” Greer said without enthusiasm. “Did they tell you that when you were circumcised they threw the wrong part out?” Greer rolled his eyes but Chris humored him. “Yeah, it’s the ‘schmuck’, I believe they called it ‘schmuck’.” Greer walked away and Justin stared at Chris angrily. “You were a jerk this afternoon.” Chris shrugged. “If it’s any conciliation, I didn’t know about the expulsion until just now.” Justin leered at him. “Is that supposed to be an apology?” Chris shook his head. “More a reconciliation.” He shrugged the younger man off of him. “Excuse me.”
Chris stumbled upstairs and past students making out on the stairs and went to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and pissed. When he wasn’t even done washing his hands, someone turned the doorknob. “Alright, I’m almost done!” Chris called out. He turned when the door closed and Justin was leaning suggestively against the closed door. “I’m not a student anymore.” Chris raised his eyebrow. “I don’t think I want to know what that means.”
Justin bit his lip. “I have a secret, but I have to come over there to tell you.” He began to sway over to Chris and cornered him against the sink. “No, no, boy, stay back.” Chris fought drunkenly. Justin pinned his body against the sink and put his hands on the older man’s hips. “I wasn’t in it for the grade.” He whispered in his ear. Chris shuddered. He suddenly felt out of control, and he was supposed to be the authority figure. “Justin, this, this isn’t-“ Justin put his finger on Chris’ lips to silence him. “We can talk, contemplate...or you can put your lips on my body. Don’t reject me.” Chris melted when he felt the younger man’s lips against his. He detested Justin, but he hadn’t been intimate with anyone in a long time, so he gave in to temptation. It also didn’t help his judgement that he wasn’t sober either.
They kissed and Justin tore off Chris' clothes, demanding Chris do the same. He growled Chris bite him repeatedly, harder, harder, to fuck him without the aid of lube. They had rough sex as Justin dragged his finger nails across and into Chris' hips, leaving vicious red marks on his pale skin.
They both have their orgasm and as the heat dies down, the music downstairs is shut off as Greer confirms that the party is over. They both part and take deep breaths. Chris refuses to look at him ashamed, while Justin has an odd smile on his lips.
~*~
Chris stares at the ashtray on the table as Joey speaks. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was that night. He also knows the rasher of shit he’ll get when Joey finds out. “Stop that!” Chris looks up. “What?” “Active listening. I hate active listening. Did you bring the amnesty fax?” “Yes,” Chris blinked, “No, I left it at home.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Joey sighed. “It’s okay, I brought a copy.” Chris sat there, trying to retain himself. “What happened last night?” “You don’t want to know. I did something stupid.” Joey scoffed. “I hope you used a condom.” Chris didn’t look up. Joey sighed. “Jesus, Christ, Chris! What was his name?” Chris sighed. “Justin.” “Ah-ha, great! That’s fucking great. Now they’re going to say that they expelled him so Kirkpatrick could dick him with a clear conscience.” “Joey, stop acting like you’re my wife or something, alright!” “Well, that’s not a position I aspire to, so fuck you!” He said, grabbing his head like he was in pain and sighing. “Are you alright?” “Yes.” Joey said, grabbing his bag. “Are you sure?” “Yes!” They packed up and left the coffee shop.
~*~
“Welcome back to Batter’s Box. Today as part of our special four part debate, we have with us today Governor of Texas Lou Pearlmen and professor and Death Watch coordinator Chris Kirkpatrick. Welcome and thank you both for joining us today.” The host said. They both nodded. “So, let’s start with your position, Governor.” “Well, Alan, I hate killing, and my administration will kill to stop it.” “So you don’t subscribe to the idea that ‘a state is a good one that protects its most despised members’?” Governor Pearlmen laughed. “That’s fuzzy liberal thinking.” Chris smiled. “You said that in your latest campaign Governor. The host chuckled. “‘If you’re not a liberal at 20 you’ve got no heart, if you’re still a liberal at 30, you’ve got no brain.’ That’s Winston Churchill.” Chris cleared his throat. “So you feel, to choose another quote, that ‘society must be cleansed of elements that represent its own death’?” The Governor nodded. “Is that another one of my campaign quotes?” Chris picked up a glass of water. “Oh no, sir, that was Hitler.” The host laughed heartily. “He got you there, Governor.”
“Now, Governor, can’t we all just admit that this system is just out of date and inaccurate. Most of the studies that have been done statically on the death penalty is based on bad numbers and junk science. And not to mention that three of the people that you put to death this year, senator, had lawyers that fell asleep during their arraignment!”“I’m not a lawyer.”“You are supporting a system that outs innocent people to death, sir!” “Alright, fine, name one! Name one person who Texas has put to death in my tenure, one.” Chris sighed, knowing he crossed a line. “A dead man can’t make a case.” “Well then, as my daddy used to say, if you can’t see a problem, then there probably isn’t one.” Chris sighs.
~*~
“Your exact words were ‘tell me when my ego is getting in the way of my work.’ Well, your ego is getting in the way of your work!” Joe yelled at Chris as they walked through the municipal parking lot. “Look, I wanted you to do this instead of me in the first place.” “You put up exactly two seconds of protest at the thought of being on a televised debate!” Chris stopped walking. “What the hell does that mean?” Joe stopped and faced him. “Deathwatch suffers because you’re so anxious to finger authority and show that Chris Kirkpatrick is so much fucking smarter than the powers to be! Try squeezing money from the donor list, Chris, have you even licked one stamp to mail off envelopes?” Chris jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Kirkpatrick?” Chris turned at the two cops and sighed. “You guys missed the Governor, he went that way.” “We’re here to arrest you, not see him.” Chris scoffed. “What, is it against the law to debate the Governor?” They grabbed him and shoved him around throwing cuffs on him. “No sir, rape is.”
~*~
“He had my bite marks, skin under my fingernails-” “Time’s up Kirkpatrick!” Chris sighed and looked at Lance desperately. “It didn’t look like anything but rape. When the court date came up, he didn’t want to testify, dropping the charges and making it look like he was too scared to face me.” Lance jotted it all down as Chris stood against the door and was cuffed. “Do you know where I can contact him?” Chris shrugged. “First year here, I received a postcard from San Francisco signed by her.” Lance looked up. “What did it say?” Chris sighed. “‘I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.’” Chris turned and was led back to his cell, leaving Lance to contemplate what he told him.