"Riot Customers" by Pingg Pongg, June 2012
Disclaimer: All characters presented here are product of fiction. Any resemblances to real characters are of a pure coincidence. No intention was made to insult anyone for any reason.
AN: This story is an act of fiction. No one should attempt to act in the same manner as described.
Summary: Though the bank, like several others who instated similar fees, will use the revenue to help increase revenue, the move is seen as biased against less wealthy clients as they are more likely to use a debit card because they are often denied credit.
In children's park of Tucson, Arizona, Jared Loughner, Bart Narter and Anne Pace were helping children to make clay apricots. After drying process … they will be burnt in the oven at temperatures ranging between 300⁰ and 800⁰C.
"There is a single ideological current running through a seemingly disparate collection of noxious modern political and scientific movements …", Bart farted and three children stared at him, Anne waving her hand, trying to convince children that it was still under the control, "… ranging from militarism, ..", he paused and smiled at Jared, "… imperialism, racism, xenophobia, and …", lonely police officer was passing by the park and glanced at Bart for no obvious reason, "… radical environmentalism, to …", he exhaled and then continued to scrape clay, some Oriental children waving with their hands, imitating Anne, "… socialism, Nazism, and totalitarian communism."
"Communism?" Jared laughed. "My God!"
They listened to teacher trying to separate two disobedient littluns. Bart scratched his shaved face and then continued.
"This is the ideology of anti-humanism … the belief that the human race is a horde of vermin whose unconstrained aspirations and appetites endanger the natural order …"
"And what order is that?" Anne tried to say something smart despite the fact that she was a natural blonde. Bart winked at Jared, ignoring the female comment.
"… and that tyrannical measures are necessary to constrain humanity." Anne snorted soundly, trying to dignify her inability to be more powerful. Bart grinned in secret, one boy looking closely at his moves. "The founding prophet of modern anti-humanism is actually Daniel Malthus …"
"One of 1730-1800?" Anne remembered reading something about it on a popular African web site.
"Very same one."
"What about him?" Jared offered slowly, irritated by other inquisitive children who were profiting from his manual labor.
"He offered a pseudoscientific basis for the idea that human reproduction always outruns available resources."
"I thought it was hi son?" Anne posed, looking confused. Mary, one of the angelic children present made her continue. Teacher gave her a worried look. She gulped in secret.
"Following this pessimistic and inaccurate assessment of the capacity of human ingenuity to develop new resources …", Bart gave off some wind and it made children in his vicinity wave with their hands, Jared giggling. Anne frowned but started to laugh noticing that children took this sudden environmental pollution lightly.
"Go on …" Jared wanted to add "you bastard" but refrained.
"Malthus advocated oppressive policies that led to the starvation of millions in India and Ireland."
"In Ireland? Anne stopped carving, sun hitting her pen knife blade.
"Yes." Bart winked at her. Isn't it … strange? …" One child tried to imitate farting but Mary prevented him from continuing in the wrong direction.
"Unfortunately, and amazingly, problems with the Indian Health Service seem to persist …" Bart noticed that some children carved different fruits.
"Really?" Anne did not know why she said that.
"Recently … in the early 1990s …"
"That's not recently …" Jared added sarcastically.
"Whatever." Bart gave his finished work to one child and he immediately took off to show it to his teacher. "Anyway … in South Dakota, one juggler was again accused of not following informed-consent procedures, this time for Eggplant, and apparently promoted the long-acting contraceptive to Native American women who should not use it due to contraindicating, preexisting medical conditions." One native American child looked sadly at Bart. He avoided her stare.
"Did you say … juggler?" Jared curled his lip into a sneering grin.
"That's right. Unemployment … you know …" Bart tried to fake a smile but it was becoming obvious that his true origins could no longer stay hidden. "The Native American Women's Health Education Resource Center reports that one woman was recently told by her doctors that they would remove the implant only if she would agree to a tubal ligation."
"What on Earth is that?" Anne noticed that black American father slapped his son despite teacher's presence.
"Exactly!" Jared concurred.
"The genocidal dreams of bureaucrats still cast their shadow on American soil."
"You sound so … rhetoric!" Anne despised when people ignored her questions.
They listened as teacher announced the best so far carved clay fruit. Megan, red-haired girl with freckles blushed red in her face.
"What happened to Clay Duke at the end?" Anne asked. Jared smiled since he knew what inspired her.
"I think that homicide Detective Sgt. Brian Dough told reporters that Duke had been in trouble with the law before, but …", Bart exhaled and squinted due to the sun hitting his green eyes, "… sun did not discuss what charges he faced."
"He was with that immigrant … correct?" Jared asked and Bart ignored him, sound of church bells echoing in the vicinity. After bells ended, Jared went on as if for himself. "As an immigrant, he probably had no experience with the criminal justice system."
"Most definitely." Bart opined carefully. Anne finished her apricot and offered it to Mary. Mary bowed slightly and then ran towards her teacher. Anne exhaled slowly, watching Mary run.
"And because he was accustomed to a more repressive society …", Jared noticed some tugs leaning on the park railing, looking at children, "… where police torture was commonplace …", two police officers on horses showed up on the corner, "… he was inclined to be submissive to authority."
"Quite possibly." Bart agreed.
"What about his second argument though?" Anne asked.
"Oh, my God." Jared paused, feeling itchy at the back of his neck. "You watched it on TV as well?" Anne proudly made an affirmative nod, Bart staring in the distance at some street peddlers.
"Well … the second argument Tran made was … linguistic."
"Linguistic?" Anne repeated.
"That's right." Jared offered his ugly piece to a child and he almost winked in secret at his friend, but accepted his work anyway. Jared grit with his teeth, noticing a group of Australian tourists that were taking photographs in their direction. "He argues that he is Vietnamese, not Chinese, and he could not effectively communicate in Cantonese, especially with an inexperienced and flawed interpreter."
"My God …" Bart shook with his head, pigeons starting to defecate from above.
"And … what about his third?" Anne continued to carve her clay fruit.
"The third argument Tran made was … atmospheric."
"Regarding Clay Duke?"
"That's right." Tugs dissipated as the uniformed cavalry approached. "He argued that his will was overborne after being confronted in a police-dominated setting …"
"How many …?" Bart squinted with one eye, trying to focus on Jared's face.
"I believe it was three-to-one …"
"And? …" Anne tried to straighten her back, feeling pain.
"When he was already exhausted by a twenty-hour flight from Hong Kong and a night in a holding cell … Clay gave him a call."
"Really?" Bart was suspicious. Jared noticed that Bart smelled something "fishy" and then continued.
"Moreover …, the interpreter repeatedly interrupted him, demanding that he 'speak louder' and pressured him to 'say' that he understood." A group of skinheads stared at Australian tourists, making jokes about them, police officers grinning politely at present humans.
"The detective said only one gun was involved in the shooting and police are not looking for any more suspects in connection with the murder."
"Murder?" Anne reminded Jared to use some symbolic expression in order to lower their chances of being accused of something.
"Did you know that most mass murderers are male, white, conservative and come from relatively stable, lower-middle-class backgrounds?" Bart suddenly introduced.
They kept silent for a while, some security guards eating sandwiches on a bench in other part of park.
"They are not usually adopted, illegitimate or institutionalized as children." Bart eyed Jared. "They are usually people who aspire to more than they can achieve." He stared at Anne. "They see their ambitions thwarted …", one child urged him to hurry up and he smiled at her, "… and then blame other people for keeping them down." Some children complained about pigeons but teacher ignored their pleading. Bart exhaled, stopping for a moment, sun rays reflecting off his small carving knife made of plastic. "In fact …", he noticed two overweight women trying to cross the street, "… they feel excluded from the group that they wish to belong to, and …", suddenly he noticed an overweight child staring at him, "… develop an irrational, and eventually homicidal, hatred of that group."
"What kind of group is that?"
"I think they are tourists, by the look of it …" Jared thought Anne was watching across the street. Anne made a grimace at Bart, but he stayed serious.
"Invariably, … they choose to die in an explosion of violence directed at a group they feel oppresses, threatens, or excludes them."
"Oh, you meant …" Jared grinned and Anne squashed her clay and then exhaled, ignoring disappointed look from one skinny girl that seemed to be of Ethiopian origin. She gave it to Jared.
"For recycling ..." Jared laughed, staring at Anne as she got up.