Gary Leonard Oldman

Oh my, I don't think I've ever been moved by a piece like this in a long long time. While I've never self harmed I do understand that feeling of being completely down and out and drowning in your head. It's like every nerve you've got is exposed and the world is just too much. I can't tell you how many times I wished the ex would have at least tried to understand why I felt the way I felt. He just told me to "shake it off and smile."  Even after trying to explain that I simply couldn't. You've hit the nail on the head with this one and I whole heartedly encourage you to add on as you go if you get the urge to. A++++++ work my dear. *hugs*

Oh god, I am actually pretty in love with this because I remember you mentioning it a couple months ago when I was fully active on my Jared account, that somewhere down the line, a drabble or short story would be written involving that song and I'm so made up that you've written it! and with the way you've written it, too. I was looking into writing a brief story about it as well but I think I'll let that lie now because this is all we really need. I'll probably share this on my Jared account at some point as well and redirect people from tumblr so they can have a read of it. I would still kill for your writing skills, just so you know. I'm really struggling to write anything of reasonable quality lately, but whenever I read your work, it gives me an automatic boost! x)

Song To The Siren ( Oblivion in Two Parts )







“You keep telling me you’re not going to answer that phone and every time you do. It’s like he tells you to jump and you just tilt your head and say ‘How high?’ I know you love him but he treats you like crap, Jackie. You’re nothing but a trigger man to him.”

Cool hands reached out for him in the darkness, sighing as she found him and laid her head down on his chest. The soft silk of her dark hair almost overwhelmed him. The scent of her shampoo all flowers and rain soothed his rapidly beating heart.  Yes, he loved his brother, yes he’d do anything for him but he loved her more. He always would. She’d picked him up when he was down and never once berated him. She was the only good thing in his life. She was his angel.

“You’re so much more than that Jackie. Especially to me.”

In the hazy morning light he pulled her close and laid a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. A soft contented sigh escaped his lips and he couldn’t help but smile as his hands roamed over her soft skin.

“What’d I do to ever deserve you, huh?”

“Nothing. I’m the lucky one and you know it.”

She returned his kiss before  freeing herself from his embrace as her alarm shrieked a belated wake up call. She was due for a shift down at the free clinic over on the Plaza not too far from her usual job over at Beth Israel. He rolled over to watch her turn off the alarm and hugged him before getting up from their bed and over toward the closet where her scrubs were hanging. Her entire side of the closet held a rainbow of cotton blend scrubs, most were pastels and many of them had cartoon characters or flowers on them. He couldn’t help but smile as she picked out the light green ones with muppet characters adorned on them. Her favorite character had and always would be Kermit the Frog. Next came the socks decked out with Cookie Monster and Elmo. Col was one of those nurses that always brought a sense of calm to her patients, especially the small ones, which even though she wouldn’t admit it, she loved best. ‘Children are full of life and innocence, they deserve a fighting chance.’ was what she’d told him once when he’d found her sitting against the front door late one night crying in spite of herself. She’d lost an infant that night during her shift. A simple case of pneumonia gone horribly wrong and yet she’d blamed herself. That particular dark cloud had lifted and she was just now back on her feet.

“You’re sure you wanna go in today? I thought maybe you and me could play hooky and just have a day to ourselves.”

Slipping into her bathrobe one dark brow arched.

“We could really use the money and it won’t take me that long. It’s only a half day thing. Just some boosters and well checks. I’ll be back before you even know it. Get some rest, you look tired.”

Giving him a soft smile she ducked out of their bedroom and into the shower. His girl knew him better than he knew himself, he was dog tired. Had been for the past week, must have been all those late nights out doing Frank’s bidding for the past two months. Truth be told though, he hadn’t heard from his big brother yet this month and money from those jobs was getting tight. Not that he’d ever tell Colleen that but something told him that she knew. Hence why she was putting in all that over time at the clinics and at the hospital. Rolling over onto his side he pulled her pillow to him and smiled at it’s warmth. He must have nodded off somewhere between her shower and her setting up the coffee maker. The stereo clicked on and the sound of Col’s voice singing in her high sweet soprano church trained voice along with Bono filled his ears. He drifted off and the last thing he heard was the sound of the quiet in the apartment before her voice filled the air. One quick smell of the air told him that she had been in the room recently to change, her perfume hung like a welcoming friend as the sun shone a little brighter.

“Coffee’s set up and your breakfast is on the table. I’ll see you at two and don’t touch that phone if it rings! I love you!”

Quick light footsteps and then the front door quietly closed with a thud. He would never ever tell her this but every time she left their apartment he felt so alone. Colder. Like a part of him had left, even if it was only temporary.  Rolling over onto his left side Jackie studied the clock, it was only after eight. God, now he knew he couldn’t go back to sleep. His stomach rumbled as he remembered her saying she’d left his breakfast out for him. Partially bedraggled, newly changed, and hungry the Irishman hoisted himself out of the double bed and out towards the kitchen to find his lover had made him his favorite spread. Scrambled eggs with crispy bacon and toast. She’d even left him a cup of black coffee to go with it and a note.

‘Don’t eat too fast. xoxo, Col’

Smiling to himself he plopped down in his chair and dug in trying to figure out just what he’d be doing with his day while she was gone.

‘I could go bug Terry…or Kathy…or hey Stevie’s got a free day.’
Another little voice in his head, the mature part of his sighed and told him to focus on the mountain of laundry that had accumulated over the course of a week not to mention the recyclables that had to make it over to the center before three. He knew Col would appreciate if he took it upon himself to do it and he smiled.  The childish side was shocked.

‘She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, Flannery.’

“Yeah, she does and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He mused aloud as he finished his breakfast and flicked on the tv before heading back into the bedroom to change and gather up the clothes hamper and detergent.


It was well after twelve by the time he finished the mountain of clothes. He was now parked on the couch folding up socks and underwear and watching Sally, one of the few daytime talk shows that he actually enjoyed. Feuding Sisters. Holy mother of God, he thanked his lucky stars that he wasn’t a woman. Things were tough enough having an older brother and a younger sister.

‘Don’t think about Frank.’
The mature voice scolded as Jackie matched up a pair of Col’s socks and then his mind wandered over to the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. It had literally been years since he’d even ventured to wash a cup or a bowl and perhaps it was high time he started pulling his weight around when it came to kitchen duty. Ten minutes and one soap mishap later the dishes were clean, dried and put away. Jackie couldn’t help but smile to himself.
‘I wonder what she’ll be willing to do when she finds out I finally did a few things without her having to beg.’

The rather immature voice thought aloud only to have the mature part agree with it. Jackie’s face broke out into a lopsided little grin as he checked the clock. Nearly two. Maybe he’d have enough time to run out to the corner market and pick up something for dinner. He’d already finished the other stuff, might as well go whole hog and make her something. Besides, if all else failed there was always take out. With a little spring in his step he grabbed his wallet and house keys and bounded out of the apartment as the phone rang for the fourth time.

‘Screw you Frank. You don’t need me.’
He thought as more adult thoughts of his lady love took over his mind.



“So, what’s the difference between free range and organic again?”

“Honestly? Only about three bucks. You still want the chicken?”

“Yeah, and I’ll take a pound of scallops. Hey, you wouldn’t know which wine would go with this tarragon sauce would you?”

The hulking unibrowed Armenian butcher shrugged as he packed up the scallops and wrapped the chicken before looking back at one of his favorite regulars.

“I’d go with a dry one. Try aisle eight. Should be toward the middle shelf, Casa Amour or somethin’. Always goes over well with the wife.”

Jackie scanned the narrow wine shelf and found the bottle. It looked nice enough and was reasonably priced. Gathering up a bag of salad greens and baby potatoes he met Raoul toward the check out and thanked him for the help.

“Man, you’re going all out tonight. Want me to throw in some candles and rubbers while I’m at it?”

Jackie mulled it over for a moment and almost shook his head. ‘Well, the bedside table it getting low and Colleen would kill you if you used the really nice candles.’

“Throw’em in, Raoul. Just make sure the rubbers are ribbed and the candles are white. Col’d kill me if either were anything but.”

A hearty chuckle shook the mountain of a man as he turned shaking his head slightly. Jackie was one love drunk crazy motherfucker but he was a man who would do anything for his wife.

The walk home was a jovial one, as he passed neighbors and strangers alike he felt lighter, happier for some reason. His last stop was the tiny florist’s shop just four doors down from the apartment. He was greeted by a doe eyed brunette with a sweet smile and a kind voice. Helene was a staple in Colleen’s life and Jackie’s as it turned out.

“Well, looks like you’ve got a big night in planned don’t you, Flannery?”

“You know it, Starling my darling. You wouldn't happen to have pink tea roses in the back would you?”

Helene’s large brown eyes widened and she nodded. He usually only bought Col flowers during her birthday or if he was planning on doing and errand for Frank. Well, their anniversary was coming up but he’d asked for pink, her all time favorite. He must have really screwed up. Then again, from the looks of his shopping bags maybe not. Looked like Jackie Flannery had romance on his mind.

“Yeah, Just got some in this morning. What’d you do, Jackie? Rob a bank or something?”

“No, Just making up for lost time is all. How much for I owe you?”

Helene shook her head as she came out of the back room with a rather large bouquet of Colleen’s favorite blooms.

“They’re on the house but do me a favor, if you end up having too much of a good time..name it after me?”

Jackie was caught off guard by Hel’s comment and almost blushed. He’d always known Hel to be ever the lady.

“You got it, hun. Thanks again Hel.”

Helene shook her head as she waved the Irishman off just as her shop phone rang.

“Think nothing of it, Flannery.”

The bell over the door jingled merrily as Jackie made his way out into the street once more catching her greeting whoever was on the other end of the line. The sunshine of the day had dimmed a bit as the wind picked up. A spring storm was on the way or so it felt as he hurried along. He knew those raindrops would catch up sooner rather than later with him and the last thing he needed were his grocery bags ending up soaked and ripping. Checking his watch he noted the time. Three on the dot. Col must be running late because this is her usual way home. He thought to himself as he felt a surge of urgency to get on home. As he walked he noticed back to back ambulances whip past, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

“Poor sucker probably on their way to St. Anne’s. Beth Israel’s better.”
He muttered as he yanked open the door to the building he called home and slipped up the winding staircase. Fumbling for his keys he could have sworn he’d gotten a chill. Like someone dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt or something. Turning the knob he pushed the front door open just as the phone rang again.

“Jesus, Frank. You don't give up do you?”

Jackie growled as he hustled into the tiny kitchen to start on dinner.  It was almost after four when he finally noticed the time and had a moment to catch his breath. The chicken was roasting quite nicely with the potatoes and the scallops could wait until the very end. The bedsheets had been changed and scattered with a few tea rose petals. The table was set and the wine was chilling. All Jackie needed was a quick shower and a moment to gather himself. Which was a doing just at the phone rang for the millionth time before he shut the ringer off. Frank would just have to hurry up and die before he wanted Jackie to do his bidding ever again.

“Feck you,Frank.”

He muttered before heaving himself up from the couch. It was that moment that he got up and ambled into the bathroom to take a shower that the tv screen changed from the Mattress King commercial to a Breaking News bulletin. A knock on the bathroom door broke Jackie from his best Bono like impression as he rinsed his hair of the shampoo and scrubbed away the last of the soap.

“You’re home! Took you long enough, Col. Jesus. I was startin’ to get worried.”

Shutting the taps off he hurried up and put the raggedy blue striped robe on and slung a towel about his neck to scrub away some of the water from his hair. Opening the door he was startled to see Terry just standing there.

“Jesus, Terry what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“I’ve been trying to call you, Jack. So’s the hospital and the precinct. Hel’s tried, Kathy’s tried.”

Jackie was dumbfounded before another freezing chill went down his back.

“Look if this is about Frank I don’t wanna hear it.”

“It’s not about Frank. It’s about Colleen, Jackie.”

His heart stopped. Colleen had never been in trouble in her entire life. She never so much as gotten a speeding or jay walking ticket and was always on her best behavior.

“What?”

“Jackie, she’s…where was she working today?”

“Down at the Plaza strip, working the free care clinic for the welfare cases. Booster shots and well checks. You know Col’s a sucker for kids.”

Terry’s face fell as his eyes shut for a moment. If Jackie hadn’t known better it was like he was trying to compose himself or something.

“Have you seen the news yet?”

“No.”

“There was a shooting down there today, Jackie. At about 2:45 this afternoon. Col was the only fatality.”

Flashes of Colleen’s face, her laugh, her smile, her warm embrace flooded Jackie’s mind. The neighbors thought a wounded animal had taken up residence in the Flannery apartment. Terry didn’t have the heart to tell his best friend that they knew exactly who was behind Colleen’s death. For some reason Terry had a gut feeling that Jackie would put the pieces together soon enough and the Westies would be without someone to answer to. Time was slowly ticking against Frank Flannery and Terry Noonan would turn a blind eye to his friend’s revenge for his wife. An acrid smell reached Noonan’s nose as he slowly put the scene together. His best friend had been planning a nice little evening in with his girl and Frank had gone and ruined everything. The bastard probably didn’t even care that tomorrow would have been Jackie and Colleen’s sixth wedding anniversary.

Days passed, arrangements were made, mostly by Mrs. Flannery and Kathy and Helene. Terry helped out when he could but Jackie hadn’t been home since he had gone to identify Colleen’s body down at the city morgue. To the silent observer Jackie Flannery was just another drunk at the Old Towne propping up a bar stool and getting blind drunk. Most nights he’d stumble into the backroom Jimmy the bar tender had set up for him others he’d go and crash over at Terry’s or his mother’s place. He didn’t dare step foot over at Stevie’s place, he was Col’s cousin and it was too much. Just too much. He just couldn’t go back to that apartment. Not when everything in it reminded him of her. The church service had driven all but driven him insane as he sat in the front pew with Helene and Stevie. They’d been married here, had become God parents six times over here, countless Christmas, Easter, and St. Patrick’s Day masses had been spent here. Not to mention Sundays. His girl had been well liked and respected, the women she worked with showed up as did a few of the doctors, countless neighbors who Jackie would never be able to recall but somehow Colleen always could paid their respects. The day of her funeral dawned bright and sunny, almost like God himself was slapping the mourners in the face. Spring had come to the city as they laid her to rest. The calendar on the wall read that it was the first day of spring. It somehow felt wrong. She had so loved the springtime more than any other time of the year and she hadn’t even gotten to see it. He had remembered how she’d been down a bit during the long cold winter but he’d done his best to bring a smile to her face. He’d loved that smile, the way it made her eyes crinkle and he always knew she’d have a laugh ready to go with it. It had always reached her eyes.  He stood apart from them. Wouldn’t let anyone touch him or offer him a word of comfort. He’d almost punched the priest and lashed out at the grave diggers as they covered her grave with fresh turned soil. He had wanted to throw himself down into that grave with her but his feet felt like lead weights rooting him to the spot. The others had left him there on that hilly sun dappled patch of earth. To say his final goodbyes to the woman he loved, always would. He whispered an ‘I love you’ to her before kneeling down to kiss the headstone etched with her name. ‘Beloved Wife, Devoted Friend, Forever loved and missed.’ It was so cruel to sum up someone’s life with a simple sentence when she was so much more to those that knew her.

Weeks and then months had gone by and Jackie could be found either at the cemetery or the church. New York was well into the heat of summer now, not that Jackie cared or noticed. Most days he tended to Colleen’s grave always replacing the day old pink tea roses with fresh and sitting down to the side of it with a fifth in a brown paper sack. He’d ramble to her, ask her if she was an angel yet.

“I bet you’re some kid’s guardian angel. Always knew you would be. Don’t let that kid turn out like me, okay, Col?”

Minutes ticked by in the hazy summer sun as he rambled himself into a stupor. Foggy memories of her dancing around the apartment grabbing him by the wrist and twisting her body around his with only a sort of feline grace that she possessed. She must have played The Joshua Tree album for a good eight months straight and With or Without You was nearly worn through but she knew every word of that damn song. If he closed his eyes he could still hear her singing along with Bono, stopping only to kiss him gently on the lips and then carry on dancing. It was then replaced with Rattle Hum and now their stereo only played Love Rescue Me because he didn’t have it in him to change the last thing she had touched.


The tattoo mere inches from his heart, an angel in long flowing robes with a face like the woman he loved was a painful reminder every time he took a shower. He got it to cover up the scar of the first time she’d patched him up. It had been a deep wound that they both knew he couldn't go to the hospital for so she’d treated him, did a bang up job of it too. But anymore that dark haired green eyed angel brought him nothing but sorrow. He’d ended up covering the mirrors. He’d called Terry and Helene over to sort of her things, donate what they could but leave him a few scrapbooks and her rosary. Around his neck alongside his St. Christopher’s medal he wore her wedding band looped onto the necklace. He swore that he could still hear her, around the apartment at night especially when it was late and the moon was full. All gauzy nightgown and long dark hair.  He could still smell her. The soapy clean scent of her skin and the lavender and jasmine of the perfume she always wore.  He’d never get tired of that smell as long as he lived. That had always been her, ever since they’d met in the very dead of winter all those years ago she always smelled like spring to him. Of hope and renewal. He’d kept her pillow for that reason, just to be closer to her. The time had come to go through her purse and he’d waited until Hel and Terry had left. He’d found an assortment of things in what he’d once called ‘Col’s bag of tricks’. Her wallet, with exactly thirty-five dollars, various club cards, her subway pass, her hospital ID card, and her license. Not that she used it but it was there. Her chapstick, peach flavored. Her tiny bottle of jasmine and lavender perfume. Her house keys with the Kermit the Frog and David Bowie key chains and the rosary pouch she always carried. A miniature first aid kit and a pocket sized photo album filled to the brim of photos of all the people that she loved. In the zippered pouch on the back of her bag he found something that stopped his heart. To the outsider it was merely an old bar napkin with the Old Towne shamrock logo on it and his old phone number and his name. He’d given it to her on the night that they had met and she’d kept it ever since. He knew that she had switched purses every season but for some reason she always kept that damn napkin.

“Do you know how much I love you?”
She’d asked him late one night after their first year together. They were laying together in a haphazard heap amid the worn cotton sheets of their newly acquired apartment.  He traced lazy circled across her lily white skin and hummed a response.

“I have no idea.”

Turning to pin him gently as her hair fell around his face in a curtain of ebony silk she smiled, her sea glass green eyes glinting with an inner light he’d never seen before.

“More than the moon and stars and night sky.”

No one in Jackie’s life had ever told him that they loved him except his mother. For a brief second he couldn’t breathe, his world was spinning and everything up was down and down was up. His face felt like it had been lit on fire and his eyes watered. A calm cool hand traced over features before kissing him gently on the lips. His world righted itself as he reached out to hold her. He was terrified that she drift away like smoke on the wind.

“I love you more than anything in this entire world.”

He’d whispered into her ear before returning her kisses with at least ten of his own.


Fresh tears prickled up into his stormy blue eyes as he blinked. He was at St. Michael’s again. Lost among the Saints and the bathed in candlelight. He was stone cold sober tonight and sobbing like a lost child. Every time he closed his eyes his mind whirred to another image of their time together, rainy days together spent in bed, snowy afternoons holed up in the corner cafe or nosing through old bookshops. Summers spent down in Little Odessa finding the perfect gift for a friend’s wedding or walking through the park. Summer nights on Coney Island ambling around the beach or gazing at the stars or watching the fireworks display over the Hudson. Not a moment was wasted, she’d made sure that every day spent together was something each of them cherished. Every year on his birthday she’d go all out, call in to work and all but smother him with affection that his childhood had lacked and topped it off with huge slab of chocolate cake that only she could make. Every Christmas she always made sure their tiny little apartment was decorated and there was always something under the tree for him to open. He kicked himself for the he’d spent away from her, on more than one night he’d come home to find her sobbing to herself or finding her as she’d cried herself to sleep clutching his pillow. He’d lost count of how many times she had all but knocked him over when he came through the door bruised and bloodied or just too shaken to speak. She never ever asked questions about what he’d seen or done, she already knew the answers because she knew Frank too well. So many times she’d begged him, to the point of tears to please not answer the phone. It was only recent that he granted her her wish. But now it was too late and he was alone. Sure, he had Terry, Helene, his mother and Kathy but it wasn’t the same. He’d never ever find another Colleen. He wasn’t supposed to. People like her only came around once in a lifetime, especially to people like him and he had truly been blessed. Fresh tears slid down his pale sunken cheeks. He couldn’t even protect her. What kind of man was he if he couldn’t keep the person he loved most in the world safe? Raising his weary bloodshot eyes towards the ceiling he let out a sob. If she’d never met him she’d still be alive.

“Why the hell couldn’t you take me instead, huh?”

Arms outspread as he threw his head back.

“Why the hell didn’t you just take me?!”


It wasn’t long before Helene and Terry showed up and tried to talk him out of his presumed drunken state. Holding out one normally shaking hand Jackie looked them each in the eye with a set jaw.
“Haven’t had a feckin' drop all damn day. I…just…I couldn’t. Not today. Not on her birthday.”

Tears he’d refused to shed earlier that day finally made their way up and slid down his haggard cheeks. He cried not so much for himself, he’d stopped doing that but for her. What she’d been robbed of, having a family that she’d always had her heart set in, growing old, making a difference in the world. Colleen would forever be twenty-eight and cut down in the prime of her life. All those trips they had planned to take, things they had wanted to do, they could never do now that she was truly gone. But everywhere he looked he saw her. In the air and in the trees, walking along the beach at sunset and dancing out in the rain. But those were just his memories. She was so close to him yet so far out of his reach, forever.

“I wanna make her saint, Terry. I just wanna make her saint.”

His words came out in a rapid fire flurry as he recited the rosary over and over and over again. He’d somehow cried himself hoarse. Manic energy surged as he bounded about between the stone statues of St. Michael and Christopher and St. Jude. He stopped in front of the massive mahogany crucifix.

“Why couldn’t you save her?! She was devoted to you and you took her away! Why?!”

Dropping to his knees with a thud the only answer he received was silence and the sound of his own sobs. Hoarse and wheezing he called out to any higher power that would listen that he’d change.

“I just want her back. She was the only person in this world that ever loved me for who I was. For what I was. Somehow she saw the good in me. How could you take that away?”

Father McKenna had come to see what the commotion was and the harried looks he’d received from both Terry and Helene told him that perhaps it was time for him step in with wisdom. They had both come to him not long after they’d said their final goodbyes to their dear friend and had told him that Jackie had lost himself. Kneeling down beside the sobbing blue eyed man Patrick McKenna whispered a silent prayer for his broken spirit.

“You’ll see her again, Jackie. Not now but someday, when your work here on Earth is done.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, Jack, you will. You’re a good man and you’ll be with her again.”

The sobbing and shaking stopped as the broken man composed himself once more. In a voice that brought a chill to the priest’s heart and caused the air to thicken around them as Terry and Helene looked on. One look at Jackie Flannery told the world he no longer had anything left to lose. His heart and soul had been buried six feet deep on the first day of spring with a dark haired woman whose life had been snuffed out by his own brother.

“I’m not a good man, Father. The only good thing about me died.”

Blue eyes held the priest’s gaze for a second time and McKenna could have sworn that half of the votive prayer candles were snuffed out without the aid of a draft. The saints took on an imposing stance, each half cloaked in shadows, their faces hidden away in the darkness, shadows looming towards the ceiling. The air was rife with the smell of burnt wax and sooty black smoke mingled with the cloying scent of incense and a coppery smell that reminded him of the scent of fresh blood. Somewhere over the city thunder rumbled and the first storm of summer made itself known to the church’s occupants. One of them loomed over the rest, saints shadows included. It was Jack Flannery. Eyes cold as steel, totally soulless and swimming with rage. It was only then that Terry noticed that Jackie’s hands were covered in dried blood. A siren shrieked as it went passed the church, towards pier 84. There in a crumbled heap the local uniforms would find the bloodied beaten body of Frank Flannery with a bullet with the initials CMF etched into the cartridge lodged in the back of his skull. One less monster left to roam the streets, taken down by his own brother. A final act of love from a man with nothing left in the world. There would be no open casket funeral mass for Frances Flannery.

“You don’t understand, Father. Men like me? We don’t get to go to heaven.”

Oh hun! I'm so sorry I made you cry and Em and Helene! Please give them extra hugs from me and Col and Jackie. Although to be honest I cried myself writing this one. I should have given you a warning or something about this one before I posted it, I do apologize. I dare say that Jackie's become one of the loudest muses ( besides Colleen ) that I've ever had. He's always here in the background puttering around and offering input, offering his own brand of observation and critique. I take that as the highest compliment anyone's ever given me in regards to my writing and I thank you very very much. I also thank you for reading my work, you have no idea how much it means to me hun. Without you I'm pretty sure these stories would be written down in a notebook somewhere and then shoved in a closet or a box under the bed. Aha! I'm much too much of a chicken but if it were to ever happen you would be the first person I would call to have on my writing team, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.  Think we can wrangle Penn and Oldman together again somehow? Maybe get Emmy and Jennifer on board with it?

Now, this is a piece that needs to be handed over to Joanou and used within a remake of the film, because I will never be happy with the death of Jackie Flannery and I think we can all agree that he deserved to live. It would only be fair to cast Gary and Sean once again in the film, however, so perhaps it wouldn't work out as a sequel too well .. perhaps just a retelling of what it *could* have been like, had he lived. I love this piece, and it gives me a small smile to think that somewhere in another realm of existence, Jackie is happy and content with Colleen.