Cris Laimon on the town
Born to Shambles Laimon and Marla Mess, Cris Isis Swishmael Laimon could not pronounce the letter 'G' until the age of fifteen. That was the day his father died. Cris could not have broken this mysterious and inconvenient language barrier without the death of his father, the emotional shock ripping apart the mental bondage incidentally placed years ago by a poorly chosen children's program. If he thinks about it too much, it makes Cris' head hurt. He likes saying words with G. Words like Gee.
Shambles Laimon did not deserve his death and had it not been for the actions of unseen and despicable forces it would never have come about, but unfortunately for you, that's not what this is about. Not yet. No, when we join Cris on this particular day, he is lying on his side in his bathroom. Four years after Shambles was laid waste to by some poorly placed garden equipment. Yes friends, Cris Laimon is lying on his side in a pool of toilet water. As a matter of fact, Cris is in a scene that's all about Cris. His toilet. His wallpaper. Technically his water, but he never claimed dominion over the elements. Well, not water. Cris was a landscaper, the irony of his career correlating to his fathers demise was neither lost nor ineffectual to Cris, but it was a necessity. His early life drove Cris to travel, he wanted to go across the world and do good for all people. But when you're the only person who can keep your half-dead comatose dad alive, you don't have a whole lot of choice but to start cutting grass for the city.
You see, you've been slightly mislead. Shambles Laimon is alive. Barely. An unfortunate accident (that was on purpose) rendered him dead to the world, and to Cris. Cris Isis Switchmael
Cris and Shambles Laimon are both native inhabitants of Low Rudge county/Township/City. An indescribably mediocre slice of mom-and-pop general stores, burnt out tackle shops, a Movie theater that's been closed since the late 70's, one of the most unstoppably individual, non-corporate and insatiably boring shopping malls in this Universe, and a town-wide maintenance system that is unique to Low Rudge and Low Rudge alone.
I'm writing a book full of short stories that takes place in Low Rudge.
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I see you jockin' me.
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