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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 16, 2005 22:46:46 GMT -5
Okay, this is just my story. American Idiot is out there to be interpereted however you want it to be, so don't base what you think on my story.
Part One:American Idiot
His name was Reginald C. Manning IV, but everyone called him Reggie. His mother, Lucy, was an architect in the Bay area, married to Brad Cabot, whom she had worked with for a few years before they began dating. Reggie’s dad lived somewhere in New York with his newest girlfriend, who was only about 19 years old. He never thought of his life as interesting, at least not until he turned 14 and met Jimmy. Reggie got a job at the local supermarket, where he was promoted in a matter of weeks from bag boy to check out clerk, something he was particularly proud of. He had only been a check out clerk for about two days when he noticed a guy about his age slowly wandering out of the store with a large bottle of Tequila. “Did you pay for that?” Reggie screamed after the guy. “Uh, yeah,” he called back, looking kind of shocked that someone had noticed his oh-so-obvious shoplifting. “But wait. You’re not 21, I know,” Reggie snapped. The guy seemed kind of pissed off now, as if Reggie was just wasting his time. “Look,” he said, approaching Reggie. “If you keep your mouth shut about all this, I’ll share it with you later.” “No,” Reggie said, seeming kind of appalled that he would suggest such a thing. Who was this guy that seemed to think he could get away will pretty much anything? “Come on,” the guy said, smiling. “Don’t you like Tequila?” “Yeah,” Reggie said, although he had never tasted the stuff. “Then just do it. What’s the harm?” “You know what? Fine. Take it.” “You want some?” he asked. “No.” “Come on. I’ll meet you in the alley after you finish working. You, me, and a free bottle of Tequila.” “Sure,” Reggie said, although he had no intention of finding this guy ever again. “Okay. By the way, my name’s Jimmy,” the guy said. Reggie just nodded, pretending like he cared. Jimmy disappeared through the automatic doors of the supermarket. “Stay away from him,” said Lisa, a girl whom worked with Reggie. “Did you see that?” Reggie asked. “He does it all the time. Most of the time with beer, condoms, cigarettes, and stuff like that.” “Cigarettes? How does he get cigarettes?” he gasped, looking over at the cigarette counter, where they checked the IDs of everyone who so much as looked at the tobacco. “I don’t know, but he’s good at what he does. Very persuasive. No matter how many times he almost gets caught, he manages to elude punishment.” She smiled at Reggie and returned to her check out counter.
“Hey, kid.” Of course, it was Jimmy. He stood outside of the supermarket, waiting for Reggie. He placed his arm around Reggie’s shoulders and, against Reggie’s will, led him back into the alley. “Here,” Jimmy said, holding up the bottle of Tequila. “No thanks,” Reggie said. “What are you, some kind of saint?” Jimmy snorted. “Perfect in every way, like Jesus or something?” “No,” Reggie said, suddenly getting rather offended. “Come on, then, Jesus. Have a swig.” “Jesus?” Reggie repeated. “Yup. From now on, that’s your name. Jesus.” “You’re crazy,” Reggie said, attempting to back out of the alley. “You’re just a big prick, like all the rest of them, aren’t you?” Jimmy asked. “Fine,” Reggie finally grunted, snatching the bottle and taking a long gulp. The liquid almost burned going down his throat. “God, that’s gross,” he said, flinching. Jimmy smiled at his suspicions that Reggie, now called Jesus, had never had alcohol were confirmed. “You have to develop a taste for it.” “How old are you?” Jesus asked. “15,” Jimmy sighed. “How bout you? About 14 or 15?” “14,” Jesus said softly as the alcohol began to sink in. It wasn’t long before the two of them sat in the back of the alley, polishing off the Tequila. “So I was thinking about our government,” Jimmy sighed. “It sucks.” “Yup,” Jesus sighed, drunk off his ass. “In order for us to have a real democracy, we should have multiple governments that you can choose to follow or something. I mean, that way, you can make your own rules and if you don’t like the rules, then you can switch to another government without leaving the country,” he rambled. Jesus stared at him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Jimmy didn’t seem to be making much sense. Jesus just nodded and agreed anyway. “So, what do you say? You and I start the revolution?” “Um, okay,” Jesus sighed. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into.
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Post by Kill on Jun 16, 2005 23:11:14 GMT -5
Coolness! XD!
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 17, 2005 0:27:07 GMT -5
Part 2
“Jesus!” Jesus woke up, startled, at the sound of someone yelling and something hitting his bedroom window. He scrambled out of bed, tugging the sheets off in a tangled mess around his foot. He arrived at the window in time to see Jimmy toss another rock at his window. He sleepily unlatched the window, pushing it open. “Jimmy?” Jesus called back, trying not to be too loud. “What the fuck…how did you find my house?” “That’s not important,” Jimmy said. “Just get your ass out here.” “Why?” Jesus asked, staring at Jimmy, whom he had only met earlier that day. He massaged his scalp, as he was beginning to suffer from his first hangover ever. Yelling down at Jimmy, who still looked pretty drunk, wasn’t exactly helping his case. “Just do it! I got to talk to you,” he said. He then reached in his jacket and produced a few mini bottles. “Come on,” he called, his voice setting into persuasive mode, which he had used to get Jesus to let him out of the supermarket with the Tequila. “Give me a minute,” Jesus sighed. What was happening to him? He was such a good kid, doing well in school, listening to his parents. And today, after his first taste of alcohol, he was already sneaking out. It was actually kind of funny how fast he found himself transforming. “Hurry up,” Jimmy mumbled, standing under the streetlight in front of Jesus’ house. His stomach churned and he approached the nearest trashcan, just barely making it before spewing all over the place. “Stupid Tequila,” he snapped. He heard a clanging and turned around to see Jesus, fully dressed and shimmying down the drainpipe. “You look almost professional,” Jimmy snorted, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “What?” Jesus asked as he ripped his jeans on the bottom of the pipe. “Damn,” he whispered, examining his pants. “Climbing down that pipe. You looked almost like you sneak out of houses for a living. Come on,” Jimmy said inhaling deeply on his cigarette and leading Jesus down the street. “Where are we going?” Jesus asked, practically jogging to keep up, his head still pulsating from the hangover. “You’ll see,” Jimmy said. “By the way, how’d your mom take to you arriving home drunk?” “She wasn’t home,” Jesus said. “Brad was, though. He freaked out and said he’d tell Mom. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe him.” “Brad?” “My stepdad,” Jesus explained. “Oh,” Jimmy nodded, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Seriously, where are we going?” Jesus asked, a sinking feeling growing the pit of his stomach as he got further and further away from his house. “You will find out when we get there,” Jimmy laughed. “Calm down already.” As much as Jesus tried, he couldn’t quite calm down. He was still tense. His stomach ached from his previously drunken state. His head pounded and his feet hurt. And now he was confused as to why Jimmy had dragged him out of his house at this ungodly hour. “Here we are,” Jimmy announced. He gestured to a large, beat up old building. “Um, where are we?” Jesus asked, staring at the building. It didn’t seem like much, just an old house in serious need of fixing up. There were several lights on throughout the house, and he could hear music flowing from somewhere inside. “Home,” Jimmy laughed. He walked up the stoop of the house and opened the front door, guiding Jesus inside. Jesus squinted at the sudden explosion of bright lights. “Jimmy? That you?” a woman’s voice screamed from another room. “Yeah, Mom,” Jimmy called. Jesus tried not to laugh. He had half expected for Jimmy to live on his own or something. But then Jimmy’s mother appeared in front of them. She sported a short, sequined blue skirt and a tight black halter top. She sported way too much lip liner and eye makeup. It hardly took a glance for Jesus to realize that Jimmy’s mother was a prostitute. “I’ve got to go. See ya, Jim,” she mumbled as she rushed past, pushing Jesus aside to get out the door. “That was your mom?” Jesus asked as the door shut behind her. “Eh, sort of,” Jimmy sighed, and Jesus didn’t question his response. “Let’s go,” Jimmy said, bouncing up the stairs, which creaked loudly with each step. Jesus followed, his steps a bit lighter, as he was afraid the stairs might break and he would fall.
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Post by Kill on Jun 17, 2005 13:11:41 GMT -5
Keep going!!! lol
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 17, 2005 22:26:06 GMT -5
Part Three
“You want some?” Jimmy asked, holding out a joint. “Not right now,” Jesus said, looking around Jimmy’s room. The walls were plastered with all sorts of things; posters, magazine and newspaper articles, pictures, and a few miscellaneous candy bar wrappers. His bed was simply a mattress thrown onto the floor with a large plaid blanket covering it. There was a beat up old couch in the corner, and a large coffee table with all sorts of drawers in it. There was also a desk by the door, covered with all sorts of papers and notebooks. Jesus was tempted to walk over and see what was written on the pages of the notebooks, but knew Jimmy wouldn’t appreciate it that much. “You sure?” Jimmy mumbled after taking a hit. “Positive,” Jesus nodded. “Sit down, damn it,” Jimmy laughed, patting the couch beside him. Jesus sat and was instantly hit with the smell of the joint. He coughed once, but Jimmy didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he just leaned over and turned on the CD player that sat on the coffee table. Loud music bumped from the speakers, and Jesus could hardly tell what it was for the bass. “What is this?” he finally asked. “Um, I don’t remember their name. Local band, though. Pretty good.” He smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” He held up the joint again. “I’m sure,” Jesus said. “Okay,” Jimmy sighed, shrugging. He then walked over to the window, unlatched it and tossed the joint outside. “You just threw illegal drugs out your window,” Jesus said, kind of surprised. “What’s your point?” Jimmy asked, slamming the window. Then entire house practically shook. Jesus jumped a little, then settled. “Why are we here?” Jesus finally asked. “You dragged me out of my home in the middle of the night. There has to be a reason.” “There is,” Jimmy said, smirking fiendishly. “You remember what we were talking about earlier today?” “Not really.” “Government. And how much it sucks,” Jimmy sighed. “And I got to thinking about how we could change that. Imagine if we started a rebellion or something. Imagine if we changed society to a point where certain things are no longer taboo or forbidden. Where you would live more or less happily, without your race, sexuality or household income being a factor. Wouldn’t that be amazing?” “Yeah, but that sounds like a dream,” Jesus said, staring at Jimmy like he was crazy. “But it’s not impossible,” Jimmy almost whispered as he snatched a notebook off his desk. “We could do it, Jesus. We could.” He flipped through the notebook, stopping at a page and scanning it with his finger. “If people decided to sit back and do nothing because it seemed impossible, then we wouldn’t have any of the modern conveniences of today,” he read. “Come on, at least try.” “Try what?” Jesus asked. “How do you propose we go about doing this?” “We could start some kind of following. An underground organization, per say. People who support our cause. We could go around advertising ourselves. Eventually we’ll have a bunch of people with the same basic beliefs. We’d get some of these people in the local government, or even in the Senate. Soon we’d have people all over the place, people who have a say in society, who would take our voices to a place where they’d get heard. What do you think?” “You’re insane,” Jesus said. “I just met you today and you more or less want to start a cult following with me?” “Don’t think of it as a cult,” Jimmy snorted. “It has a purpose, a reason. It’s for the best. I’ve been waiting to do this for years now. I just needed someone to co-lead it with me.” “And you think I’m that person?” “Well, your name is Jesus, isn’t it?” “No,” he said, practically jumping off the couch. “My name is Reggie. This is crazy. You can’t drag me into this.” “Sure I can,” Jimmy laughed. “Just think about it, okay?” He pressed the notebook he held into Jesus’ hands. “Go home and think about it. You know where to find me. And if I’m not here, just wait. I’ll get here.” Jesus looked at the notebook for a second, then headed out the door, clutching it as he left Jimmy’s home. By the time he arrived back at his own house, it was almost six in the morning. He barely managed to sneak into his house before his mother got up to go to work. He climbed in the window, and then quickly scurried over to his bedside table. He opened the drawer and shoved the notebook in there. If he didn’t look at it, maybe he would forget about it. He hoped so, since he knew that if he remembered, Jimmy would persuade him to join, just like he had persuaded him to surrender that bottle of Tequila.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 17, 2005 22:39:35 GMT -5
Sorry this part is so short.
Part Four
He couldn’t ignore it. It was almost like the notebook lay in the drawer, screaming out for attention. “Read me,” it called. It was about four days after sneaking out and going to Jimmy’s house that he finally did it. Jesus pulled the notebook out of the drawer. He sat on the bed and opened it to the first page. It read, “Property of James Athrol, AKA Jimmy or St. Jimmy.” There were a few random sketches of different things; bats, skulls, symbols, etc. across the page, but nothing else really of importance. Jesus turned to the second page. It was covered with different quotes. He flipped through the pages, only to discover that all the pages were covered with quotes. “He gave me a book of fucking quotes,” Jesus whispered. Some of the quotes were marked with highlighter, so Jesus decided just to read those.
“The first duty of a revolutionary is to get away with it.” ~Abbie Hoffman
“Revolution is not a onetime event.” ~Audre Lorde
“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.” ~John F. Kennedy
They continued on like this, most of them about revolution, rebellion and the government, all in alphabetical order by the last name of the person who said them. What was this? Finally, there was one written in dark marker, and highlighted several times through.
“Unless you believe, you will not understand.” ~Saint Augustine
Jesus stared at it. Was that why he didn’t understand? Because he didn’t believe? He glared at the page, almost as if waiting for it to catch fire. “What do you want from me, Jimmy?” he whispered to himself. “What do you want for me to believe?”
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 17, 2005 23:32:06 GMT -5
Part Five
“Have you decided yet?” Jesus almost jumped out of his skin. He had been in somewhat of a trance, sitting at his vacant check out line and flipping through some boring magazine when Jimmy’s voice interrupted his daze. Jimmy dropped some magazine with a large truck and a girl in a bikini in front of Jesus. He blinked at him. “I’m actually paying for this one,” he kind of laughed, digging through his wallet to produce a five dollar bill. “But anyway, have you made up your mind about the whole revolution and rebellion thing?” “Not yet,” Jesus said, scanning the magazine and taking Jimmy’s money. “Are you leaning more toward yes or no?” “More towards no,” Jesus said, giving Jimmy his change and dropping the magazine into a plastic bag. “Come on,” Jimmy sighed. “Did you read the notebook?” “Yeah. What the hell is that about, anyway? I mean, it’s just a bunch of quotes.” “Unless you believe, you will not understand,” Jimmy recited, grabbing the plastic bag and heading for the door. “What is it I don’t believe?” Jesus called after Jimmy as he disappeared through the automatic doors. “God,” Jesus mumbled, running his fingers through his hair and turning back to the magazine he had been more or less ignoring for the past few minutes. His lunch break came rather quickly, and the only place he could get to and back before his break ended was 7-11. He ran across the street and inside, buying himself a burrito and sort of flirting with the girl who worked there. She was about three years older than him and obviously not interested, but he didn’t seem like he was giving up anytime soon, so she finally threatened to call the cops if he didn’t stop annoying her. “Sorry,” he said before stuffing the last of his burrito in his mouth. He chewed for a second, heading for the door, then turned around. “Do you guys have a bathroom?” “Duh,” she sighed. “That way.” She pointed toward a small hallway that led past the Big Gulp machines. He just nodded at her and rushed through the doors. He stood by the urinals, relieving himself and reading the writing on the walls. Something about public restrooms always seemed to fascinate him. Not the restroom, exactly, since that would be kind of weird, but the writings on the wall. It was a way of communication, a way to get to people that you didn’t even know. He glanced over the writings, most of them starting with “if you’re looking for a good time” and ending with someone’s phone number. Some gang signs were drawn all over the place, and someone wrote “Your mom’s a whore” directly to his left. He snickered at some of the writing, then headed over to the sink. As he scrubbed furiously at his hands, he saw it. Carved into the glass of the mirror were the words, “Unless you believe, you will not understand.” “Damn it, Jimmy,” he sighed. It was like he couldn’t escape it. Everywhere he went, something was there to remind him of this revolution he could be a part of. Jimmy seemed to be planning this, always a step ahead. “Fine,” Jesus whispered. “I’ll do it, Jimmy.”
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trueamericanidiot
American Idiot
I the biggest green day fan!im in love with billie joe!i play a fender strad. and drums!
Posts: 10
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Post by trueamericanidiot on Jun 18, 2005 1:03:51 GMT -5
thats cool
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 18, 2005 9:55:17 GMT -5
Thanks.
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Post by Kill on Jun 18, 2005 10:42:43 GMT -5
COOL! WRITE NOW! lol
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 18, 2005 10:59:30 GMT -5
Ah! Hold on, I'm almost done with the next part.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 18, 2005 11:01:27 GMT -5
Part Six
“I knew you’d come around,” Jimmy said as Jesus approached his house after work. Jimmy was sitting on the stoop, smoking a cigarette and flipping through yet another notebook, which he abruptly closed at the sight of Jesus. “Yeah, well,” Jesus mumbled walking up to him. “What is it exactly I have to do?” “It’s going to start off basically enough,” Jimmy said, standing up and leading Jesus into his house. “We’re going to advertise, you know? Get a basic base of people who can help spread the word of the causes we support.” “Okay. How do we do that?” “You go to school?” Jimmy asked. “Yeah,” Jesus said, ignoring the fact that this was a very obvious question. “You go to the high school down that way?” Jimmy pointed east. Jesus thought about where his school was for a second before nodded. “Good. Easiest security to get by over there. That’s where we’ll start,” Jimmy said. “Wait, what does security have to do with anything?” Jesus asked. “I don’t exactly think they’ll just let us walk on campus and vandalize their school, do you?” Jimmy asked, heading for the kitchen. He dug through the fridge and produced two beers, one of which he tossed to Jesus. “We’re going to vandalize my school?” “Duh,” Jimmy sighed, reminding Jesus of the girl who worked in the 7-11. “Don’t bail on me in this, Jesus. Come on. If you’re in it, you’re in. No backing out.” “Um, okay,” Jesus said very unsure about all this now. He kind of wished he hadn’t let that stupid quote affect him. He still didn’t know what it was he was supposed to believe that he wasn’t. “Next week,” Jimmy said, sitting down at the kitchen table, which he promptly placed his feet on top of. “We’re going to head down to your school and, you know, advertise. We’re just going to basically do what I did to that bathroom in the 7-11.” “How did you know I saw that?” “I saw you go into the place,” Jimmy snorted. “But this time it’s going to be more noticeable.” “Are we going to just be writing that quote all over the place, Jimmy? Cause that is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Jesus sat down, leaning back in the chair. “Not the quote, but the general idea. More or less what we’re about. We write it all over the walls.” “How are they going to know it’s us?” “They won’t,” Jimmy sighed. “But that doesn’t matter. They’ll get these ideas imprinted in their heads of what needs to be done. That authority needs to be forgotten, and we need to take a stand. Once they get this idea of what their standards should be, then when we appear out of the dust with the same values and stuff as them, it’ll be like we’re their saviors or something. Which is coincidental, since your name’s Jesus.” “So you’re thinking that they’ll just read this stuff, and suddenly they’ll all think, ‘Oh wow, that’s great. We should all believe that.’ That doesn’t make any sense, Jim.” Jesus took a long gulp of his beer, which in his opinion tasted like shit, but he drank it anyway. “Teenagers are gullible. Teenagers, old people and babies. You can convince them of almost anything,” Jimmy snorted, finishing off his beer. Jesus noticed that he still clung to his notebook, not opening it. Jesus wasn’t so curious as to what it held now, since he figured it was probably a bunch of quotes. Jesus just shrugged at this. He was probably right. After all, he had managed to use a bunch of quotes to convince Jesus to make this decision that would soon change his life. Doing the same thing to a bunch of the stupid kids Jesus went to school with would be an easy task. “So, what do you say?” Jimmy asked. “You with me or against me?” “Are those my only options?” “Yes,” Jimmy laughed. “With you, I guess,” Jesus said, mostly just because he was afraid of what would happen if he said that he was against him.
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Post by Kill on Jun 18, 2005 15:59:03 GMT -5
Yay! Nice new siggy by the way.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jun 18, 2005 16:07:33 GMT -5
Thanks. It's kind of boring, but I love that picture. I had a couple others I made that were still boring, but they turned out huge. I have to alter the size, then I might have a new sig.
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Post by Kill on Jun 18, 2005 16:38:37 GMT -5
I will make you an awesome one from that picture! -off to paint!-
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