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tales of interest you guys box with numbers in inflammation the panda won't stop screaming backwards backwards frontwards frontwards
Thanks, ants.
fic post: crazy
TITLE: Crazy
FANDOM: Hot Fuzz
AUTHOR: annlarimer
WORD COUNT: 1,500ish
RATING: PG-13 fer the cussin'
SUMMARY: The screen is set alight with white-line montage action!
WARNINGS: American spelling, spoilers
NOTES: Angel couldn't have driven to Bristol? They have police, and probably even telephones. Is it that whole men-can't-ask-for-directions thing? "Oh God so lost. Where the fuck is...goddamit, Bristol's supposed to be right here! Am I in the Cotswolds or something? Is there -- OH THANK GOD A SIGN FOR THE M4 I CAN FIND LONDON IF I GO FAR ENOUGH!"
DISCLAIMER: Obviously not mine.
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.

The theme for the evening is cognitive dissonance.

His last view of Danny, for example, is strange and wrong, lit red and backwards in the mirror. Danny looks every bit as frightened and miserable as Angel feels. Danny isn't meant to look like that.

Angel drives, because he can't think of anything else to do. If this were one of Danny's movies, this bit would be the white-line montage. The raw, cinematic grandeur of the M4.

He's learned how to switch off, sort of. Nobody warned him that he might not be able to switch back on again. Apparently, he's achieved total melon shutdown. He can't even figure out how to turn on the radio, though he's accidentally activated the inside light (twice), the lighter, the windscreen wipers, and the hazard lights.

I have to think. I'm not thinking. He got scared and I got scared and I let him bundle me out of town, and we should've just taken a minute to sit and think.

I had a knife to his throat. Christ.

Granted, it had been Danny's knife to start with. In retrospect, of course, the idea that Danny Butterman would ever do him harm seems completely ludicrous. It had seemed every bit as ludicrous half an hour ago, but there he'd been, looming, with a giant comedy knife, and stabbed Angel right in the chest. That sort of thing is bound to shake a person's faith, if only for a moment.

The hardest thing had been stifling the urge to laugh, when he'd caught the scent of ketchup, and realized that he wasn't dead. The easiest thing had been maintaining his expression of pure shock.

Note to self: D. Butterman is a fucking scary genius.

I had a knife to his throat.

Of course he nearly ran me over, with this very car. Maybe it all balances out.

It doesn't balance out.

The real problem is, Angel is frightened out of his mind. Usually, when that happens, he's too busy to let it take him over -- there's a Kalashnikov aimed at his head, or a homicidal Father Christmas to subdue, or a girlfriend wanting a good explanation. Now he's got nothing to do but negotiate a near-deserted motorway. He's only got his own head for company. Somehow, in recent weeks, he's learned not to like that much.

When the hell did that happen?

Just one minute to think, we could've come up with something. Just one minute. Just -- I do not ever want to be locked in a car boot again -- one. I shouldn't have left him there. I shouldn't have left him alone.

Just one minute.

You're not thinking. It'll be okay. Get to London, get help, get... "I'll bring the blue fury of the Metropolitan Police Service with me!" Pull the other one. Who in London will even take a phone call from me, let alone summon a tactical unit to invade the fucking Village of the Year on my say-so? I have no proof of any of this.

Okay. Proof. Get proof. Go back with a camera, sneak in, get photos of some dead citizens, don't get yourself killed, easy. Of course, if it were me, I'd've already moved the bodies. And if I get caught, I'm dead. Danny's dead. There's nobody to tell the story until the NWA's inevitable implosion. How many more people die before that happens?

Even the Andys will start asking questions at some point.

And just how crazy is Frank? Frank is pretty fucking crazy. He's had a hand in killing children, dogs, entire families, poor Sergeant Popwell. When he finds out Danny let me go... Would he kill his own son? Is he that crazy?

He's skulking around the castle in a cape, like a Batman villain. He's absolutely that crazy.

Danny won't even run from him.

Angel hates Frank quite a lot right now. It's a mistake to let emotion guide an investigation (except, of course, when you're meant to trust your gut instincts -- police work can be annoying that way), but Frank's quietly avuncular campaign of obfuscation pretty damn near drove Angel mad. Angel is angrier about that than he is the multiple attempts on his life. He's also rather in awe of Frank's subtlety, and feels foolish for having trusted him. That makes it worse -- anger at Frank's betrayal only makes him feel small, and reminds him of the past.

Danny saved him, really, just by being willing to listen, helping him assemble the facts into a reasonable and logical theory of the crime. It was a completely, utterly wrong reasonable and logical theory, but still.

Danny is another reason to really fucking hate Frank. Destroying whole families for trampling the flower beds rather than try to mend his own. Proud to think his own son would follow in his footsteps.

I can't believe they were wearing fucking black cloaks. Where do you even get black cloaks? Is there a shop somewhere? A web site -- blackcloakery.co.uk, "Serving Britain's Pagan Death Cults Since 1959?" How did they decide on black cloaks? Someone makes a motion: "I propose we wear black cloaks." And then there's a debate over whether black is the right color and what fabric should they be made of and is it washable and some bastard says wouldn't balaclavas be more practical and somebody else says no, they're itchy and fuck up your hair, and it ends up getting put off for a couple of meetings while a subcommittee looks into cloak styles and prices fabric and they have to put every little thing to a vote and there are hurt feelings and factions and for Christ's sake, Angel, will you just try to think?

(Much later, Angel will find out that the cloaks originally came from a 1986 Sandford Dramatic Society production of Julius Caesar -- later used in Macbeth, Murder in the Cathedral, and what must have been a very strange production of Half a Sixpence.)

And the chanting. Jesus.

They're already turning on each other. Just leave them alone. It won't long before it's Skinner or Frank or the hag propped up in the crypt next to the Living Statue. Or that loon Tom Weaver. Tom Weaver, who has it in for loitering schoolchildren. Jesus. One of the little bastards gets caught alone with a can of spray paint...

I had a knife to his throat. Anyone's guess as to whether I had the sharp bit actually pointing at him, but still. I should never have left him there. I should have made him come with me. Why weren't we thinking?

How do I even return his fucking car?

Hell, what happens if -- it's not even an if, it's a when -- when one of those lunatics notices his car is gone?

There is no version of this story that doesn't end in Danny Butterman's murder.

I hate this story. It's ludicrous and it ends badly.

There's a sign for Heston Services. He needs to start thinking about where exactly in London he's going to go. Maybe the best thing would be to double back to Heathrow, fuck off to Greece or Spain or Switzerland. Adopt a clock-and-chocolate lifestyle. Guard the Pope.

He needs a plan. More immediately, he needs petrol.

Inside, he's greeted by icons. Not saints or virgins -- much worse. Reeves, Swayze, Smith, the other one, Eastwood, Willis, and quite a few others he can't place. Danny would know them. Danny would natter on about them for ages, giving Angel enough background noise to let him tune the world out and think coherently.

Angel knows perfectly well that he isn't quite himself. Hasn't been for days. His mental moorings are, frankly, a bit on the loose side at the moment.

But he's nowhere near mad enough to think that God is sending him messages through bargain DVD racks -- though, for the first time in his life, he understands the appeal of that sort of madness. If God exists, his management style, in Nicholas' experience, is nothing like that obvious. (Unless God thinks he's being funny. You'd need a sense of humor to be in charge of the universe. And a lot of pens. Really good pens.)

The first thing he thinks is: movies are really cheap now. Raiders of the Lost Ark cost a fortune when it first came out on video. Now the damned things are on racks at service stations for a fiver. Didn't we have a Beta machine? I can't remember now.

Then he thinks: Idea. And realizes that he hasn't switched off at all. He's been thinking and planning all along.

A few minutes later, he's got petrol. He's got spray paint. He's got sunglasses. And he's done thinking.

He's going back home to Sandford, he's going to collect his partner, and he's going to show all those lunatics exactly how crazy is done.

Thanks to crantz for the usual verbal abuse.

Tags: , ,
mood: relaxed relaxed

Flavogg heard 46 supplications or speak to the Mighty Flavogg
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redderz From: redderz Date: August 20th, 2007 10:16 pm (UTC) (linkage)
I really, really liked this. Really. I love the whole train of thought he goes through. I'm gonna have to read this again because I liked it so much and need to properly take it in. XD
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:09 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Thank you, ma'am!

eheheh unison icons!
From: atomicstoney Date: August 20th, 2007 10:20 pm (UTC) (linkage)
That was fucking awesome.

I loved the bit about the cloaks. XD
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:36 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Thanks so much for reading!

I started wondering where they could have come from, since nobody in Sandford seems able to do anything without somebody else knowing about it. "What's she going to do with a hundred and fifty yards of black jersey, then?" (I don't think they're actually made out of jersey, but you know what I mean.)
mpoetess From: mpoetess Date: August 20th, 2007 10:24 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Yes, thank you. The stream of consciousness is disturbing and hilarious in turns, and reads true to the character throughout. Plus Note to self: D. Butterman is a fucking scary genius. -- <3 the Danny-love.
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:38 pm (UTC) (linkage)
I would like a Danny of my own. I would pet him and brush him and when it's nice we could go to the park and play all day.

Or, y'know, watch movies. Whatever.
gypsyjr From: gypsyjr Date: August 20th, 2007 10:47 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Sweet zombie Jesus on a Segway, you fucking rock.

... I really tried to come up with some more detailed feedback on this, but all I could come up with was a flaily, incoherent spazz along the lines of "YES, THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HE'D THINK."
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:11 pm (UTC) (linkage)

almostnever From: almostnever Date: August 21st, 2007 01:35 am (UTC) (linkage)
Enjoyed this, glad you posted it! While I'm at it, I also really like the icon you have on JF with the IM conversation between Angel and Danny... adorable.
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:06 pm (UTC) (linkage)

Thank you! The icon is by Sandford's own swankyfunk, who's right underneath you here, and totally shareable w/credit.
swankyfunk From: swankyfunk Date: August 21st, 2007 01:57 am (UTC) (linkage)
he's going to show all those lunatics exactly how crazy is done.


That's the part where I get up out of my seat in the movie theater, clapping and whooping at the screen.
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 03:55 pm (UTC) (linkage)
I love that whole shot, with the Segwaycam and their delivery and the OH HOORAY FOR THIS, JUST HOORAY!
viedma From: viedma Date: August 21st, 2007 02:01 am (UTC) (linkage)

Good on you for having Nicholas point out that basically no one would be left standing had the N.W.A. been able to continue their rampage unchecked-- and that knowing Danny wouldn't make it is the thing that sends him back. Well, one of the things. That and a bloodthirsty need to become Harrison Ford for one brief shining moment!

He's going back home to Sandford, he's going to collect his partner


annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 03:53 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Frank scares the life out of me. He's got this evil Captain Kangaroo thing going on that makes you realize that if Danny got "out of hand," he wouldn't hesitate to put him down. Then he'd redouble his efforts in the name of Danny's memory.

I'm scared of Frank. Make him go away.
From: danakate Date: August 21st, 2007 02:03 am (UTC) (linkage)

Angel Consciousness

You, my dear, are quite awesome. I enjoyed this very much. The characterization was spot on. :D I loved the bit about the cloaks. And I loved the reflection on Danny. Thank you for sharing. :)
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:30 pm (UTC) (linkage)
(Deleted comment)
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:27 pm (UTC) (linkage)
*meep!* Thank you.
oddrid From: oddrid Date: August 21st, 2007 03:28 am (UTC) (linkage)

I really like this! This is really strange, but I've been reading Ulysses and I couldn't help but notice this perspective-switching stream of consciousness thing you have going that's really Joycian. Wow I just said Joycian in relation to a fanfic. Wow I just said "Joycian". MAKE COLLEGE END NOW
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 03:41 pm (UTC) (linkage)
College will never end. Well, the nightmares won't. I GRADUATED IN 19-FUCKING-84 AND THE NIGHTMARES JUST WON'T END!

Will I enjoy Ulysses, or will it just hurt me and I'll use it to kill bugs?
pandonkey From: pandonkey Date: August 21st, 2007 03:48 am (UTC) (linkage)
Okay, once again you've written the absolute truth about a character's thoughts at a given point in the film. How do you do that? The knife-to-the-throat bit is very much deserving of some time rattling around in Angel's head. I was going to quote bits at you, but (as is so often the case), I couldn't choose.

So I'll just say that I am grateful to you for bringing into my life the mental image of Nicholas Angel as a member of the Swiss Guard, because A) it is hilarious and B) it immediately turns into a quick-cut gunfight scene in the Vatican, with Angel tossing aside the sword and ridiculous hat (no time to do anything about the uniform) and whipping out sunglasses, unreasonably large gun, and trademarked action-hero growl to fight off masked assailants gunning for the Pope. Because I believe in happy endings, Danny turns up eating a gelatto after a stroll 'round the piazza, sees what's up, and cheerfully pulls a couple of Berettas he's somehow gotten past all of the security. The resultant mayhem eventually ends with decapitated statuary, distressed pigeons, and one unfortunate bishop with a sadly diminished mitre.
gypsyjr From: gypsyjr Date: August 21st, 2007 11:02 am (UTC) (linkage)
... Okay, this comment just wins.

Possibly because it's 4:00 in the morning.
beccavox From: beccavox Date: August 21st, 2007 04:00 am (UTC) (linkage)

Brilliant, Bloody Brilliant

After a horrible first day of classes (I want college to stop now as well), I came home and found this posted to the Sandford Police site and smiled and nodded and smiled and wept for my own uncompleted fanfics.

You rock. This is Nick Angel.
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:27 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Thank you kindly. *brings you tea*
bearfacedcheek From: bearfacedcheek Date: August 21st, 2007 08:40 am (UTC) (linkage)
Excellent stuff. Loved the morbid humour of Angels thought process.
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:26 pm (UTC) (linkage)
Thank you very much indeed!
robanybody From: robanybody Date: August 21st, 2007 10:43 am (UTC) (linkage)
Yes, that. Exactly that.
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 21st, 2007 04:14 pm (UTC) (linkage)
some_stars From: some_stars Date: August 22nd, 2007 08:25 am (UTC) (linkage)
oooh, I just watched it again tonight so my parents could see it, and this is 100% CORRECT and fills me with sweet love. :D :D :D
annlarimer From: annlarimer Date: August 22nd, 2007 01:30 pm (UTC) (linkage)

I am so pissed that Mom never got to see the death of Tim Messenger. She would have screamed and screamed, and then asked if we could rewind it.
Flavogg heard 46 supplications or speak to the Mighty Flavogg
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