The Eight-Point Arc

i. stasis

i. stasis

The purpose of a story is to recall events, whether they be real or imagined. The problem with calling this a story though is that a story means that there is some kind of ending, that there's a problem at some point and a resolution to the problem at the end.

The main character in this story doesn't have a problem, per say. Some might call it a problem and others having hot roommates. When her mother died, this girl had the brilliant idea of asking her two best friends to come live with her. They're the closest thing she's got to family, as insufferable as they are when they decide to do scientific experiences in the bathtub and she can't use it for twenty four hours afterwards. Or when they invite girls over and she's lulled to sleep with the sound of their headboard banging against the wall.

If we followed Occam's razor principle, that among competing hypotheses, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected, then living with two boys is the premise for a threesome.

Yeah right.

This story isn't the start of a cheap porno. Her living situation actually sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

A scientist, a philosopher and an artist walk into a bar...

Still, there are steps to follow for a story to unfold properly. It begins with the stasis. It's the context, the demonstration of the every day life onto which the narrative will be build. It's the introductions, the shake of the hand if you will.

It's unclear when that story really begins. It might have been in kindergarten when they were all placed in the same class. It might have been in fourth grade when Shanahan and she beat up a bully that was constantly making fun of Donavan. It might have been at their first homecoming dance, when the three of them danced together so they wouldn't feel alone or left out.

It might just start on a normal day, at home, the three of them together.

"Am I the only one that thinks that when you look at a brain in certain cuts and angles it looks like a vagina?" Chief points out, standing behind Ace, looking over his shoulder at the medicine book in front of him.

Those introductions mentioned earlier should come in handy now.

First, there's the guy engrossed with his medicine book. Ace, or Donavan Duncan.

Ace comes from the fact that Donavan aces everything. Even if he was always smart, like annoyingly smart sometimes, Ace hasn't always been his nickname. They used to call him Duncan Donuts because once upon a time he was... well, a chubby kid with a huge weakness for donuts. They still call him like that when he gets caught eating sugary treats in the middle of the night. Usually though, Ace is just the quiet, rationalizing type. He doesn't speak that much, but when he does, it's usually worth it. He's not high maintenance like her other roommate. Most of the time, the two of them suffer together because of the third idiot in their trio.

The second guy, the one that always makes inappropriate comments goes by Chief but his full name is in fact Shanahan Tilbert.

She used to call him Shania Twain. She got her ass kicked. Literally. Poor girl. Shanahan always found a way to be captain or the leader. When they used to play Indian and Cowboy he was always the Indian Chief—he has a bit of Native American blood—and he always had to win. No matter what. Cheating, kicking Ace in the nuts, giving her headshots in the stomach, smashing her face in the mud, seriously it's a mystery why they stuck around being his friends for so long.

Well that's not true. Shanahan, when it comes to winning is the biggest wiener you could come across. But aside from that he's a great friend.

He has the delusion that, at one point, he and the main character will engage in coitus—one of the many endearing terms he uses when hinting that they'll have sex. Other terms he likes to use include smashin' pissers, bumpin' fuzzies, buttering the corn, surfing the rim, good ol' in and out, enacting God's plan, naming her shame, freeze-framing claymation, making the beast with two backs, knocking boots, hitting Pink Panther, laying pipe... you get the drill... anyway—he's obviously wrong.

While Ace analyzes and rationalized everything, Chief is just a big mess of chaos. She actually likes to make fun of him because of that since he's sort of gullible in a way. She's been working for months on a plan to make him believe the Matrix actually exists and that he's somehow an important part of it all and she's also planning on stopping one of their conversation at any given moment and say "We have a message for you from inside the Dollhouse" because whatever he says, she knows he didn't just watch Joss Whedon's show for Eliza Dushku's tits.

So, that should cover all of the bases.

Getting back to the conversation now.

The girl rolls her eyes at her friend and says, "With you everything looks like a vagina."

Chief smiles widely. "Touché. No I mean seriously, go ahead, touchez-moi," he asks, hips leaning forward towards me. "Allez gente dame, apaisez-moi de mes passions et touchez à mon fruit interdit, ma corne d'abondances, ma banane exotique. "

It might be important to mention in passing that Chief learned French because he is convinced it will help him getting laid.

She sighs in annoyance, shaking her head. "Seriously? That was wrong on so many levels."

"And your banana is anything but exotic," Ace adds, nose still in his book, turning a page.

"And your horn is not abundant," she points out.

"How would you know ABC, you've never tried out the goods," Chief replies, unfazed.

Oh right. For the introductions to be completely there's one person missing.

There's also the main character. She. Her.

Abrielle Bridget Campbell. ABC. A twenty year old art major with very little clue as to what she will do next. She's not the brains. She's not the morally questionable one. If she had to be defined, confused would probably fit best.

But that's alright, because if she knew where she was going, that wouldn't make a good story.

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A/N: This is a short story that I've been meaning to upload for a loooong time. It used to be called Occam's Razor. And I used to think I would make a long story with it. But now, it'll be a 8 chapter short story. I'm not sure about my uploading schedule, but hopefully, you'll get all of it by the end of February. 

I hope you enjoy reading it. :)