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From: "Sean Farragher" <sfarragher@nj.rr.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel - Chapter 2  Laurie Fallon
Date: Fri, 17 Jan 2003 06:10:05 -0500
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TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel -Chapter 2
My Name is Laurie Fallon
(c) 2003 Sean Farragher
sfarragher@nj.rr.com



NEW & UP AT MY SITE
Taxi Murders the Novel Chapters 1-34


http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook
http://www.seanfarragher.com
http://www.seanfarragher.com/hyperfiction
http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss





Chapter 2
My Name is Laurie Fallon

Someday, I will meet you on the Internet in some cyber sex chat room. Maybe
it will be AOL or ICQ. Maybe we don't meet online. I could have been
walking without looking, like I usually do, half assed, and you bumped into
me, just to say, hello.

Of course I kicked your butt. Don't worry, I won't tell your wife. I won't
tell her the story of 13 year old auburn haired babe at the Paramus Roller
rink that Friday night when you were 17 and seemingly a big deal. You
remember the old rink that was at Midland and Rt. #17 for fifty years. Yes,
the one where our mothers made-out in the washroom. Rink's not there any
more.



FRIDAY, APRIL 10, 1992: Laurie Fallon

One question you could ask. Am I am alive? I know you read how I was
kidnapped, raped and held captive. No way I make that sound sexy.

I get it. You think I am full of it. Haven't you heard of a séance? Why
not? I could be my own medium. Why should I give the plot away before some
sad fool pays me for my bleeding story?

Yeah, I like the Brits too. Ever see that fox, Chili Bouchier? She could
have owned Hollywood if given the chance. Oh, you think I am playing with
your fucken head now. You telling me not to curse. I'm a fucken college
student and I can talk like a Lady if I want to give it up for nothing.
Yeah, I do know what "divert" means. You're a real shit. Why do you always
cut me off?



DOB: October 20, 1965

Today is January 8, 2003. My crime story began eleven years ago.

That longer time-maze, my life, began when a married PA State cop named
Malachi Mac Donagh seduced my fifteen-year-old mother, Helene. They had a
daughter, Sheila. She's the famous novelist, Sheela-na-gig.

Sheila's seven years older and thinks she knows everything. Malachi adopted
her and she attended the best schools. She even graduated from the U of
Pennsylvania. I grew up with Helene first in Gainesville and then in
Ridgefield, NJ USA.

I had a different life. I gave my first professional blowjob when I was
ten, and they say I set a fire that killed two of my brothers and a sister
when I was eleven.

Was Sheila lucky? She's a bit stuck up. So what.

Mother loved Malachi all his life. He was an honorable  man. At least he
never tried to sleep with me like my so called step-fathers Billy and Huw.

Mama lied. She told me first that Huw was the one who knocked her up.
Another night, drunk on her ass, she whispered, Billy's the one. The night
she retched in my ear, I just had sex with Billy. Later, I learned she had
slept with all three men the same fucken night. How could she know? I've
done worse.

DNA tells the truth. I had it done twice. Malachi won the lottery. I got
lucky. Mack turned out to be a righteous man.

On April 10, 1992, I was kidnapped and held captive for eleven months by a
man and woman, half brother and sister, the self-named Able and Lilith. You
will never guess what they had me do to stay alive. I had to have sex with
them of course, but get this, I had to use a computer and write about my
sexual experiences especially how I was abused as a child.

In 1992, my word processor had a screen with a sick green color. It made me
think of death. It was not this fancy machine with fifty million stars and
bars and that new Jet Ski operating system. Watching letters pour over the
screen with your life in code is like watching Picasso porn.

You know the scrambled pay TV loops where the guys and gals do it in
Technicolor. I've done porn. Billy filmed me when I was ten. Mom helped.

Some newspapers call me the "star struck" murderer because I love Myrna
Loy. They claim I was guilty of the same crimes as Abel and Lilith. They
claim there is no defense for murder when the murderer enjoys the crime.
That is what the prosecutor said citing Patty Hearst and war crime
tribunals like he was before the Supreme Court.

I didn't murder those freaking geeks. I executed them. When I cursed the
judge, she sentenced me to five to ten years. Sure Able and Lilith were
brother and sister. Sure I had sex with both of them and after I gave birth
to Molly, my Henry's child, I had another by Abel.

Lilith also gave birth to Abel's kid. I murdered her immediately after she
gave birth. That is what she did to six other girls. Justice is never
prompt.

I acted in self-defense. My mistake was to give a news conference that told
the truth. "When I murdered that freak and his pimp of a sister, I loved
it. I'd do it again. It felt wonderful to survive.

Abel killed my father. Why lie? I'm just another sister made notorious by
some funky murders. Big deal. They say when I get that pardon I will make
ten million.

Later, you will read about Myrna and Peter Lorre and how that sub plot grew
like a boil. Daily News is publishing Myrna's story in seven parts. They
say I am just worth two.

I love Myrna. She could stare down any man before sucking him up and
spitting him out pardon the pun. She didn't even have to sex with her
leading men. In her America, most slept in twin beds. I loved Myrna more
than a sister. I have seen all her films many times.

When Myrna died in 1992 I was a captive. I couldn't pay my respects. You
know what I loved best?

When it came to men, she was in control.










for more TxM6 http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook











END

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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