Imagine being married to the King of Charming, pregnant with the future heir, and kidnapped by Mayans
You were doing something so simple. Your were at the grocery store buying diapers and wipes in preparation for the beautiful baby girl you were going to welcome in a few month. You couldn’t have been more thrilled, and neither could her father, Jackson Teller, current president of SamCro’s redwood division.
You were walking out of the store, the cart filled with two boxes, you were almost to your car, and that’s when the black van pulled up, and stopped behind you, causing two men to silently sneak up behind you and grab you. The one threw a black, breathable bag over your head, and then noticed the cart.
“Shit man, she’s pregnant."
"Good, more leverage to get what we want."
That was the last thing you heard, as one of them, probably the one talking hit you over the head with the but of the gun.
When you finally were able to open your eyes, you were sitting in a dark warehouse, your hands secured behind you, and your feet connected together at the ankles. As your eyes focused more you saw that in front of you sat two Mayans. Their arms were littered with Mayan ink and you could make out the Mayan symbol on the back of their kuttes.
"Let me guess Mayans want to make a trade with Sons,and Jax said no.”
You laughed as the two men turned to their now conscious hostage.
“No, actually the rest of the crew… They have no clue you are here. See your husband killed our brother, and seeing how his own brother is dead, and killing another Son wouldn’t cause him enough pain, we figured we kill his old lady. However now you have sweetened the pot, and we plan on trading you and the future royalty of Charming for a large chunk of change. In three days though if we ain’t got what we need to leave… Well its lights out.” He smiled as he tapped your nose with his knife.
The guy behind him seemed uneasy with the whole situation.
“What about your partner here, he ok with the plan?"
"He will be, once he sees all the cash we going to get.” He breathed out as he walked away, humming as he left.
"Oh Mr. Teller,“ the first man called in a sing songy voice over the burner, "we got your girl."
"What, if you are referring to one of my croweaters…”
The leader of the whole kidnapping nodded towards his partner and then you felt a smooth metal come to your arm.
“You’re supposed to scream.” He whispered, as he gently grazed your skin, leaving no mark, and drawing no blood. And you screamed, knowing that Jax’s could hear you, and that you could hear him on Speaker phone.
“Really bro! You took my pregnant WIFE!”
"Give us 100K and you can have ‘em both back. However you only got three days, so better hurry.“
"Bro I will give you the money, just let her go."
"Doesn’t work that way, you want her back you come to the Stockton warehouses by the bay, bring the cash and you can have the girl.”
“You Son of a Bit…” However the man shut the phone and looked at you.
“You’ll be out soon.” He smiled as he and the other man walked to the room.
Within hours the men were back, a duffle bag over their shoulder, “Hate to tell ya princess but your stay here is over.” The man who was the follower walked behind you and cut you lose, your hand going to your sore, raw wrists as you rubbed them, the follower taking you by the upperarm and lifting you up. you walked from the room and found Jax and the gang standing in a line, his eyes lighting up when you saw him, and you went running towards them, colliding into his chest as he kissed your temple.
“You Ok?” He whispered into your hair as you nestled into his chest.
“Yea.” You whispered back, before he turned towards Chibs and nodded, before the boys pulled out their gun and filled the air with the loud bangs. When it was over you saw that the men were a bloody mess of Swiss cheese, and you looked at Jax, “When she is born, everyone is going to know not to mess with this princess.”
“Or this queen.” He leaned down and kissed your temple again, before escorting you to the van.
Thanks to my family’s late Christmas party with me aunt (she couldn’t be with us on the 25th so we had to postpone until the 30th), me nan’s Sunday lunch which lasted way longer it should’ve, and mass of planning needed for the script, I was rendered unable to complete most of the work and God, writing this feels like reading my personal teacher school report. You lot should see the absolute state of my learning indicators!!
I’ll be working throughout the night if you need me, so just take the above image as a slight preview. Sorry for the dip in quality, I panicked and had to rush.
But I’m still laughing because I tried drawing that stone hill thing and it looks like a very badly drawn Mayan temple or something.
Dear Dave When I asked you if you wanted me to say anything here tonight You said ‘Only three words, one of them testicular’ So I’ll pass that on Here I am at surely the most eclectic of all the London branches of Bowie Anonymous All the nicest possible freaks are here We’re in the Victoria and Albert Museum preparing to rifle through your drawers It’s truly an amazing thing This was my favourite playground as a child Medieval armour : my fantasy space wear And, alongside, when I was 12 – and a square sort of kid in a Round Pond sort of childhood, not far from here – I carried a copy of Aladdin Sane around with me – a full 2 years before i had the wherewithal to play it The image of that gingery boney pinky whitey person on the cover with the liquid mercury collar bone was – for one particular young moonage daydreamer – the image of planetary kin, of a close imaginary cousin and companion of choice It’s taken me a long time to admit, even to myself, let alone you, that it was the vision and not yet the sound that hooked me up – but if i can’t confess that here and now, then when and where? We all have our own roots And routes To this room Some of us – the enviable – found the fellowship early in the funfests of Billy’s Bowie Nights or equivalent lodges from San Francisco to Aukland to Heidelberg and all points in between For others, it was a more lonesome affair, paced out in a sort of private morse code like following bread crumbs through a forest I’m not saying that if you hadn’t pitched up I would have worn a pie crust collar and pearls like some of those I went to school with I’m not saying that if you hadn’t weighed in, Princess Julia would have been less inventive with the pink blusher Simply that, you provided the sideways like us with such rare and out-there company Such fellowship You pulled us in and left your arm dangling over our necks And kept us warm – as you have for – isn’t it ? – centuries now You were You are One of us And you have remained the reliable mortal in amongst all the immortal shapes you have thrown Nothing more certain than changes Always with a weather eye out Always awake and clocking the fallout Those Mayans must have known something when they set their calendar down before January 2013 Because, of course, now all bets are off I know, because you told me, how tickled you were to knock Elvis – for once! – out of the headlines on your shared birthday this year There’s so much for all of us to be happy about since then Yet, I think the thing I’m loving the most about the last few weeks is how clear it now is – how undeniable – that the freak becomes the great unifier The alien is the best company after all For so many more than the few They wanted a Bowie fan to speak tonight. They could have thrown a paper napkin and hit a hundred. I’m the lucky one, standing up to speak for all my fellow freaks anxious to win the pub quiz and claim their number one most super-fan tshirt I want to give thanks to the Victoria and Albert Museum for indulging us so For laying on our dream show For showing us – look at their advance ticket sales – that , as is written along the bottom of this months Q magazine, ‘why we all live in David’s world now’ To Gucci and Sennheiser for putting up the cash, laying on the sound and vision To Geoffrey and Victoria for curating an entire universe so beautifully, on behalf of us all When I think of what it used to feel like once To be a freak who liked you To feel like a freak like you - a freak who even looked a little like you And then I think of the countless people of every size and feather who are going to walk through this trace of your journey here and pick up the breadcrumbs in the great hub of this mothership over these Spring and Summer months.. And how familiar and stamped you are into ALL of our our collective DNA I’m just plain proud So Where are we now? Well I know you aren’t here tonight, but Somehow, no matter We are - And you brought us out of the wainscotting like so many Freaky old bastards Like so many fan boys and girls Like so many loners and pretty things and dandies and dudes and dukes and duckies and testicular types And pulled us together Together By you Dave Jones Our not so absent, not so invisible, friend Every alien’s favourite cousin Certainly mine We have a nice life Yours aye Tilly
-Tilda Swinton’s inaugural speech at “David Bowie Is” exhibition at London’s Victoria and Albert Museum