The Wimp 1

The bride tipped a jewel case back and forth. Rainbows of color flowed across the DVD as the ballroom's lights struck it. A brown uniformed messenger appeared out of the crowd, handed her the case then vanished just as quickly. The only explanation was a Post-it Note on the back from her best friend.

Vic,

Sorry I can't make the wedding. I have a life altering event of my own to tend to. Hope this video brings back some memories.

Marci

This wasn't like Marci. They'd been best friends since college. There hadn't been any phone calls for weeks. No "Your BFF" on the note. Vickie hoped that Marci's absence wasn't because she asked someone else to be maid-of- honor. She would have asked her, but Rory insisted that the honor go to his sister this time. Besides, Marci had been maid-of-honor at Vickie's first wedding. It wasn't her fault that David turned out to be such a loser.

Vickie pouted for a moment. The whole maid-of-honor thing did bother her a little. For a bride, she had precious little say in her own wedding. Her daddy and fiancé did most of the arrangements. For a girl used to getting her own way, it had been a real downer.

She would have shrugged, but wasn't sure her girls would stay put in the ridiculous gown her father insisted she wear. It was backless, sleeveless and strapless. If Vickie hadn't taped herself into it, it would have been topless. Daddy paid some famous designer a small fortune so he would have bragging rights to the best dressed bride in their circle.

Below the waist, there was enough fabric to pitch a circus tent. The damn wedding dress was so full, it felt like she was wading in molasses. Unlike molasses, it was pure white. Vickie chuckled at that thought. Given what she and Rory got up to even before she was divorced, it should probably be scarlet. The gown was a pain in the ass, but it did tickle her down to her toes that every male eye in the room, including the hoard of horny old goats her father invited, was ogling her impressive dowry. With a resigned sigh, Vickie hauled herself to her feet and scanned the ballroom for her brand new husband.

"Crap." she muttered under her breath. He was on the far side, surrounded by half a dozen of his old friends, including that slut Angelique Smithe-Berenson. Vickie had known them since grade school but never felt part of the in-crowd. The girls had all been jealous of her looks and envious of her Daddy's money. The boys just wanted to get in her pants. They were bitches and pricks in prep school, bitches and pricks in college and based on the smug smirks she was always getting they were still bitches and pricks. It's like they had some kind of inside joke they never let her in on.

She and Angie had been competing for male attention in general and Rory in particular, since sixth grade. Watching Angie fawn and flirt with him got her hackles up especially since her hubby seemed to be lapping it up. Vickie didn't feel guilty about cuckolding her wimp husband. He didn't fight for her so he deserved it. But she'd be damned before she let some bitch do it to her. If Rory wanted any pussy tonight, he better start thinking about which side his bread was buttered on.

Their fathers started a brokerage firm together right out of college. Like a couple of medieval lords, they expected to keep their alliance together by marrying their kids off to each other. Rory was on board and went to work for them after getting his finance degree. Vickie had upset the apple cart. First, she decided to major in art history. Then she fell in love with and married a damn social worker. It was partly adolescent rebellion, partly Rory chasing every skirt in town and partly the fact that Daddy always gave her what she wanted - and she wanted David. Thinking back, she wasn't really sure why.

Vickie plowed into the crowd like an ice breaker in the frozen North. The crowd shattered as she went and clumps of people floated away in her wake. Scanning the crowd, she was disappointed that there wasn't one friendly face. Most of the guests were business associates of her Daddy or Rory's father. There were neighbors from their exclusive, gated community, most of whom only interacted with each other at weddings, funerals and charity balls. She didn't see one friend from college or that she'd made the three years she was married to the wimp.

Vickie sailed up to her new husband and wedged herself between him and Angelique. It was irritating to see him preen over two women vying for his attention. He should have been done with that when he said "I do." Rory could be an arrogant ass. Still, as her Daddy said, "Unlike the wimp, at least he has prospects."

"Sweetheart, would you mind if I showed this video?"

"What video?"

Vickie waved the DVD at him.

"Marci Marten sent it."

"Who?"

Vickie felt put out. Rory never seemed to remember her friends or coworkers."

"Marci, my college roomy."

"Oh, the eco-freak who always wore sweatshirts and baggy jeans? The one who hooked you up with the gimpy loser?"

"Come on, Rory. She's my BFF and a really sweet girl.. She couldn't be here and I think she wants to congratulate us."

"OK, whatever Vic. Just don't get your panties in a bunch if no one stops partying to watch."

Vickie sighed as Rory turned away to continue schmoozing with his friends. Gathering up her dress, she began to work her way back through the crowd to the A/V booth. You'd think that something costing north of $25,000 wouldn't feel like she was wearing a lead overcoat. Her Daddy was bragging about how it cost more than Kim Kardashian's. It wouldn't have been so bad if he was bragging to her, but it was mostly his business buddies that he puffed up for.

Deliberately obscured, she never would have known where it was if she hadn't been there during the setup. The only evidence of its existence was an unmarked door in a small alcove and a tinted, second story window overlooking the ballroom. Inside, it was like mission control.

The ballroom was only part of a larger space that could handle anything from a charity ball to a national convention. There was not only state of the art audio and video equipment, but network servers, communication gear and who knows what else. After 911, the convention center had been designated a staging area and the booth had been hardened into a command and control center. Being inconspicuous was an asset.

Vickie pressed a button beside the door. A few minutes later, Tim Simmons stuck his head out. A pair of headphones was draped around his neck with the cord dangling down to his knees. They'd known each other since high school, but never moved in the same circles. He was a nerd then and hadn't changed much. The acne had cleared up, but he was still overweight with a shock of wheat colored hair that always looked like he'd just stepped out of a wind tunnel.

"Hey, Vickie. Whadda ya need?"

"Hi Tim. Could you put this up on the big screens? It's from Marci Marten." Tim got a huge grin on his face that didn't register until later.

"Ya want me to do it now?"

"Please, before the band finishes setting up."

"Will do. I've got to run an errand in a minute, but I'll get it going before I leave."

He may have been a nerd, but he was the best A/V technician in the city. You wouldn't know to look at him, but he was also a shrewd business man. He made his living running one of the best media studios in the country. They did everything from recording Grammy winning CDs to editing raw footage for the local TV stations. Maybe it was growing up around Vickie's crowd that kept him from being star struck. Celebrities loved him because he treated them all like regular folks. That and he knew who his real friends were.

Watching Vickie through the tinted observation window, Tim smirked as she struggled with her over-the-top gown. With a shrug and a shake of his shaggy head, he popped the DVD out of its case and placed it in the player tray. He checked to make sure the DVD deck was set to continuously repeat and hit the play button. His smile grew as he exited the control room and made sure the door was locked behind him. Turning to go, he could see the giant screens placed all around the ballroom flicker to life.

Tim headed for a rear exit. It'd be fun to stay and watch the uproar, but he needed to be gone before the feces hit the impeller. He'd told the other A/V people they wouldn't be needed. He would personally run the booth as a favor to an old friend. He didn't say which old friend. Without him, they had no way to get into the control room short of a shaped demolition charge. By the time they got someone from management or the fire department to bring a key, the show would be over. As the exit door closed slowly behind him, he could just make out Marci's silky voice begin to speak.

"Hi, I bring greetings to all those gathered for Victoria's wedding from all of her old friends."

The camera panned from the tight close up of Marci's face to a crowd in the background. There must have been over a hundred people gathered in a park.

"Say hello everyone." Marci's voice came from off-camera.

The crowd roared out an enthusiastic, but unintelligible greeting with their hands waving in the air. It took a moment for those watching to realize that everyone in the video had their middle finger extended. There were some titters and a cat call or two, but for the most part Rory was right. Few were paying attention.

Vickie was stunned. She would have expected a crude joke like that from Rory's friends, but not from hers. Glancing over at his claque, she noticed most were frowning. With a wry smile, she realized they could dish it out but couldn't take it.

"We just couldn't let this very special occasion go by without special wishes to the happy couple, their families and friends. First up is Bill Nickles, an old college chum."

The camera cut away to a man in a tux standing in what appeared to be a rather upscale restaurant.

"Hey, Vickie. You might not remember me even though we were in some college classes together. I used to wait on you and David back when you came into Sorrento's on a date. Since I was working two jobs to get through school, I didn't get to hang out much. Anyway, you didn't seem to recognize me the couple of times Rory brought you into Le Figuroa while you were cheating on Dave. I'm the manager and co-owner."

Vickie flinched at the cheap shot. Excerpt for a snicker from across the room, no one else seemed to have noticed. She spotted Angie eying her while pretending to cover a smirk with one hand. Vickie tried to give her the evil eye, but all it accomplished was to send Angie into a huddle with the other bitches.

"Your fathers know me rather well as they dine here often and bring many of their business associates. They expect a lot of personal service and I do my best to oblige." Her barely remembered acquaintance continued.

"Unfortunately, it was brought to my attention recently that someone filmed them here along with your then fiancé. I am devastated that such a scurrilous activity should have taken place in my establishment. As an old friend, I thought you should see this before it gets out. You might want to view it in private."

Before Vickie could process what was just said, the grinning Maître d' faded out and was replaced by the same room, but obviously on a busy day. Someone must have been using a smart phone or tablet to record Rory, his father and her Daddy sitting down to dinner. They appeared to be celebrating as her father slapped Rory on the back.

"So my boy, I understand you've made some real progress on our little project."

Given the conditions, the audio was remarkably clear as if it had been processed by an expert. Across the room, a commotion broke out in Rory's posse and another at the head table where the parents were sitting. The three men shown on the big screen were now on their feet looking frantically around the ballroom. Her Daddy waved angrily at one of the facility staff. After a brief conference, the fellow headed full steam for the A/V booth.

The reason for the strange behavior immediately became clear.

"Yes sir. Campaign dump the wimp has finally paid off. With a little help from my friends, I've convinced your little princess that she really did marry a loser. She rags about him now as much as you, me and our friends put together. As far as I can tell, he doesn't know what hit him just that his perfect little world is crumbling."

Rory had a shit eating grin while he postured in front of the two older men.

"Well done, son. I hope it's not too early to begin calling you that? I understand you sealed the deal."

"Oh yeah." It didn't seem possible that he could look any smugger but he did.

"All the heart to heart talk bullshit, the romantic dinners, the expensive gifts and the fancy charity dances the wimp couldn't afford to attend even if he got an invitation paid off. Getting the gimpy wimp out of the way by dangling that juicy contract in front of his boss was sheer genius. Vick was so pissed off he had to go out of town when he promised to go to the reunion with her that it only took a few drinks and some sweet talk to get her to spread 'em.

Once I got into her pants, she lost all respect for the creep. The more I bang her, the wilder she gets. The wilder she gets, the more her contempt grows. She's got the makings of a real slut. By the time I'm done with her, she'll do whatever, whenever with whomever I say."

Vickie was on the verge of fainting. It was bad enough to publically discover she was seduced away from her husband by a narcissistic asshole. To learn that her beloved Daddy not only wasn't defending her but conspired with the bastard to do it was devastating.

"I knew you had it in you. Victoria's like her mother, she needs a strong hand to keep her in line. She's no dummy either. You need to stay on your toes if you plan to keep fucking that Smithe-Berenson whore. Not that I'd hold it against you if you did. She gives a world class blow job."

Rory's father was nodding with his own smug grin.

"Son, if you want a steady stream of pussy, do what Rod and I do. Get something to hold over her head like a video of her in a gang bang. Tell her you'll post it on the Internet if she doesn't do what you say. Right partner?"

There was a loud smack as the two men in the video high fived each other. It was echoed in the ballroom by a louder smack as Vickie's mother delivered an epic slap to her husband followed by a knee to the groin. Her father-in-law was a little quicker on the uptake and was now being chased around the room by his enraged wife waving a steak knife.

Meanwhile, a screaming Banshee had been let loose next to Rory. There was some satisfaction in seeing Angie atop a cowering Rory clawing and kicking like a berserker. The guests were getting whiplash trying to take it all in.

The video faded back to Marci's beaming face.

"We won't bother you with the rest of the recording. It was just some boring business talk. Since we weren't sure about the legality of the recording, we turned it over to the State's Attorney. Last I heard, it was being passed around among a bunch of federal agencies."

Suddenly, a volley of cursing erupted not only from the three beleaguered men but a number of their business associates scattered around the room. A crowd was growing around the door to the control room with a lot of shouting and arm waving. Someone came up with a fire ax and began beating on the door to no effect.

"By the way, Vick." Marci's avatar continued to speak. "I have a bone to pick with you. I love ya like a sister, but sometimes you can be such a dumb bitch."

Marci's lips were pinched together as she shook her head sadly.

"David told me about how that gang of juvenile delinquents you hang with kept trying to pick fights and question his manhood, how they made fun of his limp and his occupation. I can't believe the contempt you showed him for walking away. Why didn't you defend your husband or at least admire his self-control? It should have been obvious that Rory was trying to bait him into a fight and then have his friends tell the cops that Dave started it. Instead, you bought the lie that he was a wimp and a coward."

Marci stared out of the screen for a moment. It felt like she was looking straight into Vickie's soul.

"When all those strange misfortunes began to occur, did you back your husband? Night after night, I listened to all the whining you did. You'd complain and tell me what a loser Dave was. Then, when I tried to defend him, you dismissed me. I guess that's when you turned to Rory for 'support'."

Marci made air quotes.

"Dave never told you how he got that limp, did he? He hated the notoriety and made those of us who knew him at the time promise never to mention it. Given the way you and that bunch of real losers trashed him, we all decided to ignore Dave's wishes for once. Here's your wimpy, loser ex-husband in action."

A smirking Marci faded out to be replaced by what most likely was security camera footage of the inside of a mall. A time stamp in the corner showed a date nearly six years earlier. Suddenly the ballroom was filled with the sounds of gunfire. Everyone froze and stared at the scene unfolding on the big screens.

"Viewers, the Eye Witness News team has obtained video of the Greenfields Mall shooting that occurred last weekend. Two heavily armed men wearing body armor rampaged through the common area and some of the stores killing six and wounding forty two."

The video paused on two men dressed in black from head to toe and carrying AR-15 rifles. The voiceover from a well-known news anchor continued.

"Later identified as Bobby Joe Wilks and Herold Crumbaugh, they are members of a Christian militia group that purports to be on a mission to save America from gays and Muslims. Ironically, all of the fatalities among the mall shooting victims were straight Christians."

The action resumed as they proceeded down either side of the commons area firing at everyone in sight.

"In the midst of this horrific event, a hero emerged. Eye Witness News obtained exclusive footage of the encounter that ended the shooting spree. Sixteen year old Jamal Wilson shot this with his Ipad."

The ballroom was dead silent as the video cut away to a view of the first floor atrium shot by someone on the upper level. A woman and child crouched behind a planter as the two men approached from either side.

"Are you crazy?"

A stage whisper came from off-camera. The camera jittered as Wilson turned to catch a figure approaching in a crouch.

"Get the hell out of here before they see you."

Vickie gasped as the figure's face became clear. It was David. There were more gunshots. David edged to the railing and peeked over.

"Shit!"

He had seen the woman and child, seconds away from being discovered. He waved Wilson back.

"Stay down."

Then he stood up.

"Hey, you crazy bastards, what the hell's the matter with you?"

David ducked behind a pillar as a hail of bullets spattered around the surrounding area. There was a ping as one ricocheted off of the railing. Bits and pieces of concrete sprayed from where slugs hit the walls. There was a cut to a security camera showing one shooter waving the other toward escalators they'd passed, then he continued shooting at the upper level. When the shooter stopped to reload, the scene cut back to the tablet footage.

"C'mon."

The video waved wildly as David grabbed the youth and dragged him to a doorway marked employees only. They entered a corridor and sprinted about half way down to a stairwell. The tablet footage was jouncing all over the place as Wilson followed David down to the first level, exiting into a corridor identical to the one above. David turned back toward the common area and apparently, Wilson tried to follow. David faced him, shook his head and pointed to an exit sign at the other end of the corridor.