Carbine Chaos
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Can confirm that it is the real Scooter.
Thanks, thats a very sweet thing of you to say!
WCE (Worst Conspiracy Ever): A Creative Piece
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Can confirm that it is the real Scooter.
Thanks, thats a very sweet thing of you to say!
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Carbine Chaos
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Shuey held the gun straight at Scooter’s chest, heaving with exhaustion from the wrestle with his teammate. Selwood slumped down in surrender. He was done...he had failed.
“Why’d you do it, Scooter?”
The tagger looked up, blinking furiously to hide the tears forming in his eyes. There was no point in hiding the resent any more. “Why do you think, Shue?! I won the Best and Fairest last year, but you still get all the credit for our revival!”
Shuey looked stunned. Scooter was jealous of him?
“You get all the girls…the fans love you, with that stupid Shue chant they’d do whenever you touched the footy…and I’ve seen the way Woosha looks at you…like you were his bloody son! I lived under the shadow of my brothers for all my life, I didn’t want to do it again here!”
Shuey’s gun hand dropped a little. “Scooter…you don’t need to be jealous of me. We’re a team. I wouldn’t even be half as good as I was if it wasn’t for your work in tight.”
The man…the boy…on the ground began sobbing near uncontrollably. He didn’t look like Scott Selwood the murderer. He looked like Scott Selwood, the lost soul who needed a friend more than ever. Lowering the gun, Shuey put his arms around his teammate and tried to calm him down. Unfortunately, Scooter had other plans; pushing Shuey off as quickly as he could and bolting away into the darkness.
But Shuey wasn’t giving up that easily. Chasing his friend down the staircase and out of the stadium, Scooter was aghast to find the gates had already been sealed off. He clutched the padlock and rattled it furiously, but to no avail. He had no escape. Or did he?
Looking to his right, he noticed the door was ajar on the bottom of the light tower. It seemed as good an option as any. He managed to enter the door and slammed it shut just as Shuey ran into the clearing.
Our hero had noticed the door slam, that was certain. But another certainty was that the tower was a death trap; following his friend up to the top meant death for one of the two…maybe both…unless he could talk Scooter out of this madness. The Scooter he knew would never have attempted anything this grand…or insane. What had gotten into him?
There was never any other option. Shuey threw the door open and began to climb the steps at a frenetic pace; the sound of frantic running from above indicated Scooter was doing the same. He had to get to his friend before he could hurt himself…
Down on the turf, Woosha lunged into the fifty and grabbed Demetriou by his ankles, dragging him down and digging into his fleshy thigh like a rabid dog. The CEO screamed for help, and in an instant the Austrian pilot, himself a heavy-set man, was dragging Woosha away by his legs. Demetriou climbed into the helicopter and looked back to see Woosha dismantling the pilot, throwing his unconscious form onto the turf. Swearing to himself, the CEO buckled himself into the pilots seat. Fortunately, he knew how to fly the machine. As long as he escaped, Worsfold and Shuey would see their efforts go to waste.
Worsfold sprinted towards the chopper, but found himself buffeted back by the winds produced by both the storm and the blades. In an instant, the chopper was hovering; now out of reach of the coach. Demetriou cackled in delight as he hovered in the air, taunting the frustrated coach below.
“Goodbye, John! Say goodbye to Pattersons!"
Worsfold shook his fists in anger. "It's Subiaco, you money-hungry git!"
Shuey burst his way through the door at the top of the light tower, but found nobody in the cabin. Confused, he turned to close the door when it slammed back into his face. Scooter entered behind him and punched him in the already-bleeding face, sending him reeling back against the wall. Another fist of fury came, but Shuey managed to duck it with usual finesse. The fist crashed it’s way through the glass, creating a gaping hole that allowed the night air to flow in with a chill. Shuey took the chance; he quickly climbed out of the hole and began to make his way to the very top of the light tower. Perhaps Scooter would have the sense to stop?
Looking below, his heart sank. Scooter was following him like a madman, catching him with the speed of Lewis Jetta chasing down Brad Ebert. Shuey crawled over the precipice and just managed to stand on the top of the tower when Scooter grabbed his ankle and brought him crashing down with a thud, and very nearly rolling over the edge. The fall was immense; it would kill any man, even him. Maybe not Beau Waters.
Rolling over with a groan, Scooter was already standing over him, knee ready to crash into his face. “Any last words, Shue?”
There it was. His one last chance; he had to trust his instincts. They had steered him wrong before…but this was a desperate situation. “Lindsay…”
“Huh?”
Shuey yelled with all his might. “Lindsay!”
Shuey struck out and smacked his fist right into Scooter’s upper thigh; not his testicles, but the flabby flesh just below his testicles. Shuey had heard old wives tales about a spot on the thigh that could kill a man just by looking at it. The most vulnerable part of the human body; yet one that had just saved his life.
Scooter screamed with unimaginable pain and fell to the concrete, eyes shut in both defeat and fear. He looked up to see the roles reversed; Shuey standing over him. As the star midfielder’s clean hands extended out, Scooter flinched, prepared for the fatal blow. But it never came. Opening his eyes, he could see that Shuey had extended his hand, wanting to help his friend to his feet.
“What…what are you doing?”
“You heard what I said…once an Eagle…always an Eagle.”
Scooter tentatively took his friend’s hand and rose gingerly. “Except Gardiner?”
“Even Michael Gardiner.”
The two stood awkwardly, as if unsure about what to do next. Looking below, they could see the helicopter slowly rising, Demetriou’s mad cackling echoing around the stadium. Scooter looked at Shuey dead in the eyes. He could see the despair in his friend's eyes. A feeling of shame spilled over the usually unflappable number 10. This was his fault. He could see it now.
“Y...you know…if he gets away, then they’ll keep coming for you.”
Shuey nodded. All was lost. Even if he could get his old friend Scooter back, the loss was insurmountable. Koby and Will were never coming back. The club was going to Victoria. All that he had worked for since he had been drafted…nay, since his AFL dream had been born…was lost…
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Scooter shuffling backwards towards the edge of the tower. The tagger gave one final laugh, breaking Shuey out of his spell. “Hey…what are you doing?”
Scooter attempted to smile, but none came. “He can’t get away, Shue…”
“What do you…no…you can’t!”
Scooter nodded sadly. “Looks like I’m going out like Adam would…”
“What do you mean?”
“...falling to pieces under pressure.”
With that final quip, he fell backwards off the light. He didn’t even scream as he was engulfed by the swinging blades of the helicopter. One second he was falling silently; the next, a red mist descended down onto the turf of Subiaco Oval. Scott Selwood was no more.
He wasn’t the only thing going down, either. On impact, one of the helicopter blades had been horribly bent out of shape. Demetriou screamed as the chopper veered sharply to the left, down to the ground quickly. One final bloodcurdling scream could be heard as it crashed, creating a massive explosion that shook the foundations of the stadium one final time.
“I’ll get you Luke Shuey…”
Crawling to the edge, Shuey looked down to see Worsfold slowly dragging himself off the Stadium turf, and looking up to return the stare. His typical stoic expression broke into a small grin, which Shuey returned in kind. Rolling onto his back and looking at the sky, he couldn’t help but feel that Koby had been looking over him that night; one final win for the deceased midfielder to enjoy.
“We’re flying high…”
TO BE 'EPILOGUED'...
“Why’d you do it, Scooter?”
The tagger looked up, blinking furiously to hide the tears forming in his eyes. There was no point in hiding the resent any more. “Why do you think, Shue?! I won the Best and Fairest last year, but you still get all the credit for our revival!”
Shuey looked stunned. Scooter was jealous of him?
“You get all the girls…the fans love you, with that stupid Shue chant they’d do whenever you touched the footy…and I’ve seen the way Woosha looks at you…like you were his bloody son! I lived under the shadow of my brothers for all my life, I didn’t want to do it again here!”
Shuey’s gun hand dropped a little. “Scooter…you don’t need to be jealous of me. We’re a team. I wouldn’t even be half as good as I was if it wasn’t for your work in tight.”
The man…the boy…on the ground began sobbing near uncontrollably. He didn’t look like Scott Selwood the murderer. He looked like Scott Selwood, the lost soul who needed a friend more than ever. Lowering the gun, Shuey put his arms around his teammate and tried to calm him down. Unfortunately, Scooter had other plans; pushing Shuey off as quickly as he could and bolting away into the darkness.
But Shuey wasn’t giving up that easily. Chasing his friend down the staircase and out of the stadium, Scooter was aghast to find the gates had already been sealed off. He clutched the padlock and rattled it furiously, but to no avail. He had no escape. Or did he?
Looking to his right, he noticed the door was ajar on the bottom of the light tower. It seemed as good an option as any. He managed to enter the door and slammed it shut just as Shuey ran into the clearing.
Our hero had noticed the door slam, that was certain. But another certainty was that the tower was a death trap; following his friend up to the top meant death for one of the two…maybe both…unless he could talk Scooter out of this madness. The Scooter he knew would never have attempted anything this grand…or insane. What had gotten into him?
There was never any other option. Shuey threw the door open and began to climb the steps at a frenetic pace; the sound of frantic running from above indicated Scooter was doing the same. He had to get to his friend before he could hurt himself…
Down on the turf, Woosha lunged into the fifty and grabbed Demetriou by his ankles, dragging him down and digging into his fleshy thigh like a rabid dog. The CEO screamed for help, and in an instant the Austrian pilot, himself a heavy-set man, was dragging Woosha away by his legs. Demetriou climbed into the helicopter and looked back to see Woosha dismantling the pilot, throwing his unconscious form onto the turf. Swearing to himself, the CEO buckled himself into the pilots seat. Fortunately, he knew how to fly the machine. As long as he escaped, Worsfold and Shuey would see their efforts go to waste.
Worsfold sprinted towards the chopper, but found himself buffeted back by the winds produced by both the storm and the blades. In an instant, the chopper was hovering; now out of reach of the coach. Demetriou cackled in delight as he hovered in the air, taunting the frustrated coach below.
“Goodbye, John! Say goodbye to Pattersons!"
Worsfold shook his fists in anger. "It's Subiaco, you money-hungry git!"
Shuey burst his way through the door at the top of the light tower, but found nobody in the cabin. Confused, he turned to close the door when it slammed back into his face. Scooter entered behind him and punched him in the already-bleeding face, sending him reeling back against the wall. Another fist of fury came, but Shuey managed to duck it with usual finesse. The fist crashed it’s way through the glass, creating a gaping hole that allowed the night air to flow in with a chill. Shuey took the chance; he quickly climbed out of the hole and began to make his way to the very top of the light tower. Perhaps Scooter would have the sense to stop?
Looking below, his heart sank. Scooter was following him like a madman, catching him with the speed of Lewis Jetta chasing down Brad Ebert. Shuey crawled over the precipice and just managed to stand on the top of the tower when Scooter grabbed his ankle and brought him crashing down with a thud, and very nearly rolling over the edge. The fall was immense; it would kill any man, even him. Maybe not Beau Waters.
Rolling over with a groan, Scooter was already standing over him, knee ready to crash into his face. “Any last words, Shue?”
There it was. His one last chance; he had to trust his instincts. They had steered him wrong before…but this was a desperate situation. “Lindsay…”
“Huh?”
Shuey yelled with all his might. “Lindsay!”
Shuey struck out and smacked his fist right into Scooter’s upper thigh; not his testicles, but the flabby flesh just below his testicles. Shuey had heard old wives tales about a spot on the thigh that could kill a man just by looking at it. The most vulnerable part of the human body; yet one that had just saved his life.
Scooter screamed with unimaginable pain and fell to the concrete, eyes shut in both defeat and fear. He looked up to see the roles reversed; Shuey standing over him. As the star midfielder’s clean hands extended out, Scooter flinched, prepared for the fatal blow. But it never came. Opening his eyes, he could see that Shuey had extended his hand, wanting to help his friend to his feet.
“What…what are you doing?”
“You heard what I said…once an Eagle…always an Eagle.”
Scooter tentatively took his friend’s hand and rose gingerly. “Except Gardiner?”
“Even Michael Gardiner.”
The two stood awkwardly, as if unsure about what to do next. Looking below, they could see the helicopter slowly rising, Demetriou’s mad cackling echoing around the stadium. Scooter looked at Shuey dead in the eyes. He could see the despair in his friend's eyes. A feeling of shame spilled over the usually unflappable number 10. This was his fault. He could see it now.
“Y...you know…if he gets away, then they’ll keep coming for you.”
Shuey nodded. All was lost. Even if he could get his old friend Scooter back, the loss was insurmountable. Koby and Will were never coming back. The club was going to Victoria. All that he had worked for since he had been drafted…nay, since his AFL dream had been born…was lost…
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Scooter shuffling backwards towards the edge of the tower. The tagger gave one final laugh, breaking Shuey out of his spell. “Hey…what are you doing?”
Scooter attempted to smile, but none came. “He can’t get away, Shue…”
“What do you…no…you can’t!”
Scooter nodded sadly. “Looks like I’m going out like Adam would…”
“What do you mean?”
“...falling to pieces under pressure.”
With that final quip, he fell backwards off the light. He didn’t even scream as he was engulfed by the swinging blades of the helicopter. One second he was falling silently; the next, a red mist descended down onto the turf of Subiaco Oval. Scott Selwood was no more.
He wasn’t the only thing going down, either. On impact, one of the helicopter blades had been horribly bent out of shape. Demetriou screamed as the chopper veered sharply to the left, down to the ground quickly. One final bloodcurdling scream could be heard as it crashed, creating a massive explosion that shook the foundations of the stadium one final time.
“I’ll get you Luke Shuey…”
Crawling to the edge, Shuey looked down to see Worsfold slowly dragging himself off the Stadium turf, and looking up to return the stare. His typical stoic expression broke into a small grin, which Shuey returned in kind. Rolling onto his back and looking at the sky, he couldn’t help but feel that Koby had been looking over him that night; one final win for the deceased midfielder to enjoy.
“We’re flying high…”
TO BE 'EPILOGUED'...
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That was brilliant Thorne. I've really enjoyed reading every chapter, but you saved the best til last.
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LINDSAY!!!!!!
Gold. You have now overtaken GE as the WC board's most amazing poster.
Mods, can we arrange for a gold star to be embedded in thorne's profile?
Gold. You have now overtaken GE as the WC board's most amazing poster.
Mods, can we arrange for a gold star to be embedded in thorne's profile?
Carbine Chaos
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EPILOGUE
“Idiots. Unbelievable. Ridiculous.”
Georgia Lyon rolled her eyes once again before entering the dining room to find Ross huddled over the West. She cautiously walked towards her husband, placing a cup of tea in front of his huddled form. “What’s wrong, dear?”
“They’re on the bloody cover again!”
Ross threw the paper at her, which she caught with ease; years of practice, she supposed. There was a large picture of a bloody Luke Shuey and John Worsfold embracing each other on the Subiaco Oval turf.
“Eagles Take Flight: Worsfold Survives Shooting.”
Lyon grunted with jealousy as his wife read through conveniently placed excerpts in the article, which seemed oddly detailed with important information about the major players in the tragic saga.
“…still no sign of Stacey Roffey, the sister of the deceased. It is understood that police will want to question her…”
“…Adam Selwood seemed thrown off by the death of his brother. At an early morning training session, teammates commented that he didn’t seem like himself. ‘He was hitting targets left, right and centre,’ said Ashton Hams. ‘We are really concerned’…”
“…a replacement for Demetriou has yet to be named…when approached for the position, Newman laughed and raised his eyebrows, quipping ‘Oh, really?’…”
“…the funeral for Stevens is to be held on the 4th. Tom Swift has officially called the time of death, and is expected to replace the fallible Peter Larkins as official doctor for the league…”
“…when contacted about Ziebell’s involvement in the fiasco, North Melbourne FC could not be contacted. It is believed their phone lines were pulled on account of unpaid bills…”
“…no comment from the hero, Luke Shuey. He has been unavailable since leaving Subiaco, and it is understood that he has made himself unavailable for the remainder of the season…”
“…Darcy has been replaced by former Fremantle coach, Mark Harvey, who says there are still loose ends that need to be…”
Lyon’s head shot up from the table. “Repeat that last bit.”
“…Nicoski said Scott Selwood’s blonde hair would be missed dearly…”
“No! The part about Mark Harvey…”
Ross’s inquiry was made too late. Georgia screamed as the door was kicked down, and Mark Harvey stormed into the room and knocked Lyon right off his chair. Putting his knee on his back, he grabbed Lyon’s arms and locked them in place instantly. Slamming the man in handcuffs, he began to lead him from the house in spite of the cries of Georgia.
“H…Harvey?”
“You thought Freo Oval was accommodating…wait until you try the prison…”
“No…no!”
Harvey roughly handed Lyon over to the squad of officers waiting outside, and they shoved him in the car with glee. Harvey took out a smoke and his mobile phone, lighting one while dialing the other. A man answered on the other end of the line.
“Update?”
“He’s in custody, sir.”
At AFL Headquarters, the newly appointed CEO sat back in his hair; cigar in one hand, expensive glass of brandy in the other. He leaned back, grinning. Lyon behind bars was great for his early public relations. Now that the office was his…the game was going to change forever.
“Very good, Mark. Make sure to come back to base as soon as possible. I have a new assignment for you…”
“Of course…Mr. Maguire.”
THE END
“Idiots. Unbelievable. Ridiculous.”
Georgia Lyon rolled her eyes once again before entering the dining room to find Ross huddled over the West. She cautiously walked towards her husband, placing a cup of tea in front of his huddled form. “What’s wrong, dear?”
“They’re on the bloody cover again!”
Ross threw the paper at her, which she caught with ease; years of practice, she supposed. There was a large picture of a bloody Luke Shuey and John Worsfold embracing each other on the Subiaco Oval turf.
“Eagles Take Flight: Worsfold Survives Shooting.”
Lyon grunted with jealousy as his wife read through conveniently placed excerpts in the article, which seemed oddly detailed with important information about the major players in the tragic saga.
“…still no sign of Stacey Roffey, the sister of the deceased. It is understood that police will want to question her…”
“…Adam Selwood seemed thrown off by the death of his brother. At an early morning training session, teammates commented that he didn’t seem like himself. ‘He was hitting targets left, right and centre,’ said Ashton Hams. ‘We are really concerned’…”
“…a replacement for Demetriou has yet to be named…when approached for the position, Newman laughed and raised his eyebrows, quipping ‘Oh, really?’…”
“…the funeral for Stevens is to be held on the 4th. Tom Swift has officially called the time of death, and is expected to replace the fallible Peter Larkins as official doctor for the league…”
“…when contacted about Ziebell’s involvement in the fiasco, North Melbourne FC could not be contacted. It is believed their phone lines were pulled on account of unpaid bills…”
“…no comment from the hero, Luke Shuey. He has been unavailable since leaving Subiaco, and it is understood that he has made himself unavailable for the remainder of the season…”
“…Darcy has been replaced by former Fremantle coach, Mark Harvey, who says there are still loose ends that need to be…”
Lyon’s head shot up from the table. “Repeat that last bit.”
“…Nicoski said Scott Selwood’s blonde hair would be missed dearly…”
“No! The part about Mark Harvey…”
Ross’s inquiry was made too late. Georgia screamed as the door was kicked down, and Mark Harvey stormed into the room and knocked Lyon right off his chair. Putting his knee on his back, he grabbed Lyon’s arms and locked them in place instantly. Slamming the man in handcuffs, he began to lead him from the house in spite of the cries of Georgia.
“H…Harvey?”
“You thought Freo Oval was accommodating…wait until you try the prison…”
“No…no!”
Harvey roughly handed Lyon over to the squad of officers waiting outside, and they shoved him in the car with glee. Harvey took out a smoke and his mobile phone, lighting one while dialing the other. A man answered on the other end of the line.
“Update?”
“He’s in custody, sir.”
At AFL Headquarters, the newly appointed CEO sat back in his hair; cigar in one hand, expensive glass of brandy in the other. He leaned back, grinning. Lyon behind bars was great for his early public relations. Now that the office was his…the game was going to change forever.
“Very good, Mark. Make sure to come back to base as soon as possible. I have a new assignment for you…”
“Of course…Mr. Maguire.”
THE END
Carbine Chaos
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Thanks so much for everybody who has read (and hopefully enjoyed) this, it means a lot to me that I've been getting really positive feedback and comments. Not only is it warm and fuzzy, but it makes one feel appreciated and sparks the fire inside that compels me to write more.
Thank you to the best board/members on BF!
thorne89 x
Thank you to the best board/members on BF!
thorne89 x
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Even though you killed off my favourite player I still think this is the best story I have read in a long time. Thank you too Thorne for sharing your creativity with us. I have always loved reading books and this being about my favourite team in the world made it even more special so thank you!
I think you're a gifted writer. Should think about publishing some of your stories. Share it with the world.
I think you're a gifted writer. Should think about publishing some of your stories. Share it with the world.
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Do it!! You obviously have an eye for a juicy plot!
My housemate works for a local film company. If you ever write a screenplay, i can pass it onto him.
Just make sure the Panther and Easy Mac feature in it this time
My housemate works for a local film company. If you ever write a screenplay, i can pass it onto him.
Just make sure the Panther and Easy Mac feature in it this time
Carbine Chaos
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Do it!! You obviously have an eye for a juicy plot!
My housemate works for a local film company. If you ever write a screenplay, i can pass it onto him.
Just make sure the Panther and Easy Mac feature in it this time
Noted! Panther will play a bigger role in the next one, I can confirm that.
I do dabble in screenplays but I don't know if they are any good or not.
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Carbine Chaos
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Carbine Chaos
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Thanks! That'd be the ultimate dream someday; would love to get something published.
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Google doc of the whole thing:
Struggling to get the link to post without embedding again.
https://docs.google.com/document/pub?id
=1ylEAcSD_I-6Z5Z_3jlZGPhjvPm88U9k5D4hKdXc5zW8
(combine the above to form the link)
TWEET AWAY!
Again, great job thorne. Comfortably thread of the year in these parts.
Struggling to get the link to post without embedding again.
https://docs.google.com/document/pub?id
=1ylEAcSD_I-6Z5Z_3jlZGPhjvPm88U9k5D4hKdXc5zW8
(combine the above to form the link)
TWEET AWAY!
Again, great job thorne. Comfortably thread of the year in these parts.
🥰 Love BigFooty? Join now for free.
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16 387 words in total, thorne. Great stuff!
Carbine Chaos
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Thanks for the upload mate, that is awesome and I'd have no clue how to do it.
I've put the full story in the OP for ease of read, it's there whenever you guys want to read it.
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Epic, Truly Epic!!
Well done Thorne!
Well done Thorne!
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Great read.
I will consistently refer back to this Victorian conspiracy as often as possible on debates with other clubs posters on BF.
I will consistently refer back to this Victorian conspiracy as often as possible on debates with other clubs posters on BF.
Well done thorne. Just congrats. It's awesome.
I would love to see what you can do when you write for serious and spend a bit more time. If i was you i'd try working on something for a while in your spare time send it around to a few places get some feedback you never know what reception you might get. Your good don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.
PS i can't believe it ended up that long! Didn't realise only reading one at a time.
I would love to see what you can do when you write for serious and spend a bit more time. If i was you i'd try working on something for a while in your spare time send it around to a few places get some feedback you never know what reception you might get. Your good don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.
PS i can't believe it ended up that long! Didn't realise only reading one at a time.
On a separate note, our board is just truly awesome. The conclusion of this epic at the same time as GE coming back. LML (loving my life).
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