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fyasummershowdown · 7 years ago

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Exquisite Corpse: Prom, The Final Frontier

This year it was actually going to happen. This year I was finally going to conquer my fear and participate in something most of my friends thought was fun. I couldn’t begin to understand how something so anxiety inducing could be fun, but then again, they didn’t have my problems, so I guess it was understandable. The thought of it actually turned my stomach, but I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t go to prom this year, I might end up dead. Literally.

For those of you who have already read the story and want to skip ahead to the CYOA endings:

• If you’re looking for your mom to save you, read on for KCFYA's ending.

• If you’re interested in seeing Maria use the emotion extractor to full effect, read on for LONFYA's ending.

Everyone else, read on…

avlfya:

The reason I’m so opposed to prom dates back many years ago in my preadolescence. By now, living in this small town for so long has really started to get to me. It feels like the world is caving in on itself, and the bubble is about to burst. Prom is only one of the ridiculous traditions that is of the highest importance here, and my group of friends, though not exactly the most popular crew, fully expected each of us to pair off and attend the social function together. Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about finding a date.

cifya:

At least, that’s what I thought. My date-to-be, Cam, came down with the chicken pox three days before the dance, so he’ll be staying at home on Saturday night with oven mitts taped to his hands. (Side note: Who in the hell gets chicken pox at age seventeen??) Naturally, the town crier sent up the alarm: “HEAR YE, HEAR YE! MARIA ESPOSITO SEEKS HER PRINCE CHARMING FOR THE BALL!”

At least that’s what happened in my head. In reality, the town crier was my best friend Emily posting a message on Facebook that sounded a little too much like a Craigslist Casual Encounters ad. I begged her not to click “Post,” not to destroy what dignity I had left, but as with all best friends, there was no convincing her otherwise. But to my amazement, it worked. Within minutes, I had a new prom date. If only I had known that it was Tony de Luca, son of Italian mob boss, Dominic de Luca.

@cltfya you’re up!

cltfya:

With a name like Tony de Luca you’d think he would have booked a date before Christmas. But if you think that, you’ve never met Tony. He should look like a young Robert de Niro, but unfortunately that’s not the case. Not only was he the founding member of the Sunnyvale High School Dungeon and Dragons club, Tony had never outgrown his awkward puberty phase. Every day he wore one of 4 different Game of Thrones t-shirts and the same pair of pants. Though he had a decent head of curly, dark hair, he unfortunately sported a face like a pizza. On top of that, he never sprouted above 5"4’. That might not be so bad if I wasn’t 5"11’ and the tallest girl in my class. I guess I need to go shopping for flats this afternoon.

I gulped down my weary disappointment and said to myself, “Don’t be superficial. Beauty is on the inside. This guy could be a charmer with personality for days - don’t be so quick to judge. What’s the worst thing that could happen, Maria?”

@fyadallas you’re up!

fyadallas:

While I was at the mall shopping for flats (Side note: Have you ever found a pair of prom-worthy flats? Because what passes for a mall in this one-horse town didn’t have one. single. pair that were remotely okay, and I had to settle for basic black ballerina flats. SO BORING.), I realized what I had to do.

In all honesty, I’ve watched enough teen romantic comedies that it shouldn’t have taken me so long to figure out the answer. What we needed was a makeover montage. You know the kind where the homely girl’s friends put her in a dress, some makeup, and take off her glasses, and suddenly she’s the hottest ticket in town? Everyone realizes what a great person she was now that she wasn’t completely overlook-able? Yes, that should solve my problem nicely.

Except the makeover wouldn’t be for me. It would be for Tony de Luca. Would a tux and a haircut fix his problems? Would I have to fight of tons off girls once we got to the prom?

More importantly, would the mob put out a hit on me if I put some concealer on his zits?

@kcfya, show us where this leads!

kcfya:

It was surprisingly easy to talk Tony into going to the mall with me the Saturday morning of Prom. I thought there’d be more bribing involved, but Tony seemed genuinely excited. Apparently, he didn’t get out of the house much.

I’d managed to book us the last spot open at Glam-o-Rama, which of course was the 8am slot. Armed with enough coffee to wake a hibernating bear, which I’m sure I resembled in my lazily tossed up hair and last nights make up still smudged under my eyes, the morning surprisingly went fairly smooth. As I paid for a new deep red shade of lipstick called Nosferatu, Tony came sauntering out of Glam-o-Rama looking like…well…there was only so much a mall makeover could do for a guy. Still, it was an improvement, and with a pair of lifts borrowed from my uncle Sal, he was reasonable close to my height.

At least we won’t be a laughing stock, I thought to myself. Aloud I said, “Looking good Tony.”

A sheepish grin fit on his face. He didn’t look half bad when he smiled. He rubbed a hand on his cheek. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep this on all day.” I reached over and pulled his hand away from his face. “By not rubbing it off. That’d be a good start.”

We walked down the escalator and through the double doors that led to the darkened parking garage. Even at 10am, the garage was still full of cars left over from the night before when the only night club in town, Lightening Blue, had its usual Friday night half-priced drinks special for the ladies. You just have to make it ten more hours, I told myself. What could go wrong in ten hours? I quickly found the answer to that question as we approached my car and the sound of a gunshot echoed through the parking garage.

Take it away @kcmofya

kcmofya:

I grabbed Tony and ducked behind the nearest car, a hulking SUV.

“What was tha—”

“Quiet!” I shushed him as we heard voices moving steadily closer to our hiding spot. I crouched further in the shadows of the SUV, my heart pounding. I was suddenly very grateful that the green living movement hadn’t made its way to Sunnyvale yet. Tony stuck his head around the side of the SUV before I could stop him.

“What the hell are you doing? They’ll see us!” I hissed at him.

“It’s…” he leaned farther forward. “It’s my Uncle Vito and some other guy. I can’t see his face. They’re dragging something behind them. Something big.”

“Probably the body of whoever they just shot! And if they see us, we’re next!”

“Come on. It’s my uncle. He wouldn’t shoot anyone. I’ll just ask him what’s going on.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to just stroll out there and ask a murderer what’s up?” For the son of a mob boss, this kid was pretty clueless. Or pretty brave.

“He’s not a murderer.”

“We heard a gunshot and he’s dragging what’s obviously a body!”

As we argued over what to do, the two men and whatever they were dragging (A body. It had to be a body, right?) hopped in a car a few rows down and took off. Tony and I crawled out of our hiding spot and ran over to my car.

“We have to call the police! Where is my phone?” I scrambled through my purse. My hands were shaking and I could feel myself sweating right through the make-up I’d just spent the last of my paycheck on. So much for my cat-eye and subtle glow. I was glowing like a pig now.

“Maria, wait. We can’t call the police. Let me call my dad first, okay?”

He pulled out his phone, while I tried to calm myself down. So my prom date is the son of a mob boss and we just witnessed him probably murdering someone. No big deal right? It’ll be fine. Everything’s fine. Deep breaths.

‘Hey, uh, Maria? My dad wants to talk to you.”

Me? Why does he want to talk to me?!

@lonfya it’s all you!

lonfya:

“Miss Esposito, I trust you and my son are getting along?” Dominic de Luca’s voice was nothing like my expectations. He sounded more like a man accustomed discussing the merits of expensive wines than one suspected of drowning his rivals in buckets of the cheap stuff. Though I’d hoped I’d never have to play this game, I knew the rules: Show respect. Stick to the facts.

“Yes Sir, Mr de Luca.”

“Good. I’m not going to waste time pretending you don’t understand what’s going on. The original terms of the agreement with your family state that any involvement in our interests would be cause for immediate and…rather final discussions. However, on this one occasion I am willing to overlook your participation. Provided you do something for me.”

Tony had climbed into the front seat and had adjusted the rear-view mirror to get another look at his made-up face, the unblemished skin apparently more interesting than gunshots, a body, and his family’s involvement. I crossed pretty brave off the list of possibilities. “Let me Guess. Keep Tony out of it?”

“Correct. My son isn’t yet aware of what the family business entails. You will do whatever is necessary to keep it that way. In return, I will ensure your involvement remains a secret. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes Sir, Mr de Luca.”

“Good. Have a nice time at prom. Such a magical evening.”

The line went dead. For years I’d lived with worst-case scenarios in my head. Threats, violence, danger. I’d run through every possible variation. Or so I thought. Protecting the oblivious son of the second most powerful mobster in the country on prom night had somehow never factored into my planning. The way I saw it, there were only two choices.

@lrfya tell us what happens next!

lrfya:

I could keep my mouth shut and have an okay time with Tony at the prom. Or I could do what I’ve trained my entire life to do.

Because the gun shot, Uncle Vito, and the body he dragged out of here? They were all adding up in my head. Someone had been following us, and they’d been taken down by Vito. I knew there was no way in hell that Carlo Esposito, my father and the most powerful mobster in the country, would let me go to prom with Dominic De Luca’s son without sending someone from his security detail to tail me.

And I knew who that someone would be.

Joseph Lucas started working for my dad when he was 12 and I was 10. His dad had been my father’s most dedicated employee until he was killed in a stand off against the De Lucas seven years ago, so Joey’d been around most of my life. He was always such a nightmare–burping in my face and yanking my ponytail. I think my dad felt sorry for him, so once he got old enough, Dad would send him on harmless little errands in exchange for pocket money. When he got older, Joey started boxing with some of the other guys, learning tricks of the trade. And since we were in high school together, Dad eventually hired him to be my own personal security detail.

Emily was the only person who knew why Joey was always hanging around, always in the background, never saying much. My other friends assumed he had a huge crush on me, and couldn’t understand why I didn’t like him back. “He’s so hot,” they’d say. “And cut. And mysterious and brooding.”

Which, objectively, yeah, sure, whatever. But I’d always resented Joey’s presence, even when my dad wanted him all up in my business and Joey kept his distance anyway. Even when we’d spar at the gym and he’d take his shirt off. Even when he was hanging around the house eating my food, and watching my TV and grinning his stupid charming grin.

I resented Joey because I didn’t need a bodyguard. And I don’t mean I didn’t need a bodyguard because I was unsafe. I didn’t need a bodyguard because I could take care of myself.

My dad didn’t trust anyone — not even Joey — to completely leave me in their hands. I’d been trained in Krav Maga, knife-throwing, and three different types of mixed martial arts, all by private trainers from a very young age. I could shoot a gun better than any of my dad’s employees. I knew how to untie 36 different kinds of knots, blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back. And I could track like a hunter.

Dominic wouldn’t have killed Joey outright. He’s too valuable, has too much intel. They most likely wounded him and are keeping him somewhere…Dominic owned commercial property — a bunch of rundown warehouses on the east side of town. It was a starting point, at least.

I buckled my seat belt and turned to Tony. “I have an errand to run. And I’m going to warn you, it’s probably not how you’d like to spend your Saturday. So I’m giving you the opportunity to get out now.”

Tony looked confused. “Get out? We’re in a parking garage! I need a ride home. I’m not getting out.”

I turned the ignition. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” As we pulled up to the street, I stopped. Left? Or right? Look for details…Vito would’ve been in a hurry…a big hurry.

I let out a snort when I saw it. “Let me guess. Your Uncle Vito drives a big, black Cadillac Escalade?”

Tony’s brow wrinkled. “Yeah, why?”

I pointed at the black marks freshly smeared across the road…headed east. “I know those tires. It’s like the official car of mobsters everywhere.” I took a deep breath. I had ten hours to find Uncle Vito, get Joey back without being seen, and get to the prom. And somehow keep Tony from figuring out what I was doing. And if I failed? Dominic would probably kill me.

I threw my car to the right and slammed on the gas. “Hold on tight, Tony.”

@fyaorlandonorth y’all take it from here!

fyaorlandonorth:

We drove in silence for half an hour until Tony finally broke it by asking, “Where are we going, Maria?”

I sucked on my lip and glanced over at him. “Your uncle, uh…he took something of mine. I need to get it back.”

Tony turned towards the window so I couldn’t see his face. “You know, I’m not as clueless as you think I am,” he said, continuing darkly. “Or my father thinks I am.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “So you know about—”

“The family business? Your family business?” He cut in. “Enough. So why don’t you just tell me what is really going on?”

In the distance I can see a collection of warehouses near the water, where I’m hoping that Uncle Vito is holding Joey. We’re approaching a small dirt road that seems to meander towards the far end of the buildings, so I hit my blinker and hang a left, coming to a stop just after the turn off. Tony turns to me with a questioning look.

“Alright, I’m just going to lay it all out here. We don’t have time to mess around and I’m done being cautious.” I take a deep breath. “Our dads are some of the biggest Mafia bosses in town. They deal in drugs, but not it’s not the kind you might think.” I feel the words crowding in my mouth, impatient to get out. “There are ways to harness the energy of a large group of people and distill it into an extremely potent yet non-addictive elixir. One drop is better than any high you could imagine, and it lasts for hours. Love, happiness, fear, pain; you name it, they’ve got an elixir for it.”

Tony’s mouth was hanging open, but to his credit, he wasn’t freaking out. “So they…harness the emotions of a crowd?” he asked.

I nodded. “For certain events—like prom, for example—where emotions are heightened, hormones are running wild. Can you imagine the euphoria you would experience if someone put all that energy into a concentrated potion?

“The take is so big that our families will put aside their differences once a year just so we can both get a cut.” I sighed. “I’d finally convinced my dad to put me in charge of making sure things on our end went off without a hitch, but nowyour Uncle Vito has stolen my bodyguard and I need to know why, because from over here, it looks like your dad is planning to turn on us. And if this happens on my watch, I’m going to have to keep a close eye on both sides to make sure my head stays with my body.”

“What you’re saying sounds insane,” Tony said. “But I also feel like it all makes perfect sense.” He squeezed the armrest and swallowed what seemed like a dozen times before giving me a determined nod. “So then let’s go find out what Uncle Vito is up to.”

Run with it, @pghfya!

pghfya:

On the way to Uncle Vito’s lair, I decided on a last minute detour to Taco Bell. Hey, a girl can get hungry during a Mob chase, and also there was somethingnot on the menu that needed ordering.

“Welcome to Taco Bell, may I take your order?” the speaker blared at me.

“Yeah, can I have a Quesadilla with extra pickles?”

“And a Crunchwrap Supreme!” Tony yells before I can tell him that this isn’t a regular order.

When I pull to the window they hand me a brown paper bag. And then they give me a small plastic one with Tony’s Crunchwrap. I throw over the Crunchwrap and pull away from the window without paying. They know where to get the money for this order.

“I can’t believe you ordered pickles on your quesadilla! That’s so gross. Also, why do they have pickles at a Taco Bell? This day cannot get weirder!” Tony says around a mouthful of Mexican food.

“I 100% bet that it can.”

I pull into a parking spot and unroll the bag. I’ve never actually had to place this order before, and now that I have, I’m beginning to realize that shit is serious. I look at the Emojiicon Extractor 3000 sitting at the bottom of the bag, take a deep breath and reverse the car. This is going to be one hell of a ride.

When I pull into Vito’s hideout, I notice two things:

There are cows (dairy cows as Tony points out)

Sitting in the field behind the cows is a large, round, silver aircraft of some sort. If I didn’t know any better, I would say it looks like an alien ship.

“Dude, there are ALIENS here,” Tony says. Well then. I guess I don’t know better.

@fyavanwa What’s next??

fyavanwa:

We quickly fall to a crouch behind a large bale of hay, not ideal for cover, but it’ll do for now. I turn to see what Tony is looking at and promptly whack him upside the head with my empty hand. “Haven’t you ever seen a person in a hazmat suite before!? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of geeky kid, haven’t you ever seen a sci fi flick?” I say in a whisper-yell kind of way.

He gives me a droll look and rubs the back of his head, “It’s a common misconception that to be geeky, one needs to be a sci fi fanatic. I prefer fantasy, like Game of Thrones or DnD. Basically, any kind of RPG or anything really, involving the possibly of dragons.”

“DnD? RPG? Do you only speak in acronyms?”

“Dungeons and Dragons is a type of RPG or Role-Playing Game. But I feel like aliens in general are a big part of science fiction so my original observation wouldn’t be so far outside the realm of possibilities, using your logic of….”

“Shut up…”

I interrupt him, because suddenly I see Vito and the mysterious faced person carrying a slumped over Joey-shaped-lump between them. They are about ten paces ahead of our position and are completely engrossed in watching the hazmat suited people loading large boxes into the round aircraft.

I lean in close to Tony, “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go take those guys out nice and quiet like. You follow close behind me and catch Joey before he falls and makes a big clattering noise, then we silently take him back to the car and get the hell out of here. You got it?”

“I’m not going to let you kill my Uncle” and for a second I think I see some menace behind his painted face.

“Relax, I’m not going to kill anybody. I can set this emotion extractor in such a way that it will only knock a person out for a short time. Just enough for us to get Joey and book it out of here.”

To his credit, Tony doesn’t ask questions like, “How?” or “Why?” or “What will happen if they catch us?” He just nods his head in grudging trust and acceptance. I engage the Emojiicon Extractor, make sure it’s set right, and with a here-we-go nod to Tony, I spring into action…

• If you’re looking for your mom to save you, read on for KCFYA's ending.

• If you’re interested in seeing Maria use the emotion extractor to full effect, read on for LONFYA's ending.

#2017 yasummershowdown #exquisite corpse #exquisite corpse cyoa #prom the final frontier #forever young adult

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