The Transgressions Of Scott and Axton

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Justice. Justice is not revenge. Justice is not doing something for yourself. Justice is doing something that is right. Something that is necessary. Something that will right what has been wronged. Axton and I have been wronged. All our lives we have been treated unfairly by this establishment’s so called “justice” system. Pssh, yea right, more like oppression system. We want justice, and we’re ready to go to any means to get it.


It all started this summer when our surfboards were mysteriously snatched from the very safety of our own places of residence. We had to spend the rest of the summer board-less, watching all of our friends having a jolly good time at the beach while we were left with nothing. We were scorned, and we knew there was no way we would get our boards back without a heavy investigation, one that the police refused to carry out.


On another occasion, Axton left his car inconspicuously parked in a parking lot while he went to receive a quality education. When he returned, he found his vehicle in a state of disarray, with a sizeable indentation to the rear end. The police told him there was no way to find out what had happened, and that he’d just have to let it go.


“LET IT GO?!!?” He spewed forth at the officers in a fit of pure rage.


This was the most absurd thing he had ever heard! He approached the Smith's Department Store where he had been parked in order to get a hold of the security tapes from the parking lot that day. They said that that would not be possible as those tapes were confidential and he would need police access to see them.


“Those buffoons couldn’t investigate a missing dog, nevertheless a car assault case.” He angrily declared to the manager.


The next time I saw Axton, he was in a rage.


“I think Smith's is conspiring against us. We can never go back there,” he said. I indubitably agreed.


Time passed. People changed. But justice stayed the same. Axton purchased a new surfboard and was shredding harder than ever. Things were good for a time, until one day, injustice struck again. Axton was using his new surfboard at the beach, and when he emerged from the water, his fins were shockingly missing. He was confused, shocked even. But then it struck him. Something about the employee at the surf shop where he had purchased the surfboard had seemed a bit odd. It was now crystal clear to him that the employee had conspired against him by not screwing in the fins tight enough. This would cause the fins to dislodge while riding and Axton would be shark bait. It was clearly a misguided assassination attempt. This was the last straw. It was time to right what has been wronged. It was time for justice.




We began to formulate a plot. We started by identifying a list of suspects who could have stolen our boards. The most prevalent on the list at the time was Garret, a dastardly thief who was scorned by our mistreatment of him over the years. It was a clear cut revenge plot. We went to his house armed with baseball bats and sledgehammers. We rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. The whole family must have been in on it and fled when they heard of our wrath. We took this as a perfect opportunity to right what had been wronged and show them that we mean business. We proceeded to smash anything within a 100 yard radius to bits. By the time we were done, the house was a pile of dust and debris, and it was clear that a steaming hot plate of justice had been served. We later found out that Garret had moved out of town long ago and could not have stolen the boards. That wasn’t even his house. But this is beside the point; the owners of the house most likely had had some involvement in our misfortune. Everyone did.


The next person on our list was an extremely dangerous delinquent known as MOT. We went to his house and inquired as to his whereabouts. His mom told us that he was in his secret lair practicing his sniping abilities. We took the elevator down and approached him. As soon as we entered the room, a bullet whizzed by my ear.


“I could have put that bullet between your eyes. What are your intentions for this visit,” were the dominant words that emerged from the very depths of his voice box.


“We have been wronged, and you are a suspect in the case.” I replied.


“What?! That’s preposterous! We are the best of friends! I would never wrong you guys,” he said, shocked at the accusation.


“My only friend is justice, justice and Scott,” Axton put forth.


Axton laid it all on the table with that one. Nevertheless, MOT had us convinced that it was not him who had wronged us.


The next step in our plan was to inquire more deeply at Smith's and the surf shop where Axton had been purchased his new board. We got nothing from Smith's, further confirming our suspicion that they were conspiring against us. However, we came across a stroke of luck at the surf shop. As we approached the manager, he told us that it was not safe for us to talk here, but he gave us the address of a secure location in which we could discuss our situation more privately.


We went to the address he had provided and found it to be a Chuck E. Cheese.


“Why would you want to meet us here?” I asked the manager once we had found him.


“It’s safe. Our conversation will be drowned out by the children.” He replied.


“Fair enough. Now tell us what has been going on!” Axton valiantly exclaimed, so forcefully and articulately that some of the nearby children stopped what they were doing to sing him praise.


“Well all I know is that one of your close friends approached us and paid us an abundance of money in order to loosen your surfboard fins when you came to buy it.”


Shock came across both our faces. We knew that this would happen. No one could be trusted. And we knew exactly who it was…


There was only one person with the funds and the connections to do this to us. He had been conspiring against us for our entire lives. Purposely causing injustices upon us and turning us into spiteful haters of this countries justice system. This person had wronged us, and it was time to right what has been wronged, to pan fry a juicy serving of hot, delicious justice. It was MOT!


We knew what we had to do. MOT would never tell us the truth, so we had to take matters into our own hands and perform a bit of late night espionage. We ventured to our friendly neighborhood spy shop and picked up the materials that we needed for the operation. Under the pretense of going to MOT’s house for a friendly visit, we covertly installed cameras around the entire house. However, that night, while watching the security feeds, they suddenly went blank! That plan had failed, so we decided that it was time for more direct and spontaneous action in order to right what had been wronged.


We didn’t think. In the heat of the moment we grabbed our trusty ladder and weapons. We then made our way down to MOT’s house and set up. It was a dark and stormy night with howling winds and hail the size of golf balls, it was no night for these sorts of escapades.


“The gods are conspiring against us,” I grimly uttered.



We started by firing a few rounds at his bulletproof windows in order to see if he would respond. There was no reply, so we assumed that he wasn’t home. We then began to scout the house for an area to mount our ladder. There were no discernible locations as MOT’s house was an impenetrable fortress. Our only hope was to set it up on a flimsy gutter which was still a five foot jump to the roof. With the high winds and hail it was an almost unachievable feat, but I’d been training my whole life for this. With Axton supporting the ladder below me I began to ascend. Once I reached the top, I heard an earsplitting scream from below me. Axton had been struck by a rouge piece of hail and had gone down. The ladder lost control and fell from beneath my feet. Luckily I had reacted in time and was able to make a daring leap of faith for the roof. I just barely made it and proceeded to pull myself up. At this point Axton had recovered from the blow and I heard him yell from below me.


“It’s Elena, we’ve been spotted!”


Elena ran and set off the alarm. Axton ran to the front door and broke it down with his trusty sledgehammer. I was still on the roof and scaled the house onto MOT’s balcony. I used one of my newly purchased spy tools to cut a hole in the glass and sneak through. There was still no sign of MOT and Axton had now reached his room. That was when we saw it. In MOT’s closet was everything that had been taken from us and evidence of MOT committing the wrongs that we had set out to right. It seemed that every single one of the wrongs that had been perpetrated upon us in our entire lives was the doing of MOT. I then heard a loud bang and a scream. Axton had been shot by a bullet fired from the barrel of none other than MOT. Axton was on the floor, shot in the leg. MOT emerged from the darkness.


“So you’ve found me out huh? I’ve been barricaded in here for days ever since you found out my secret, and now that you know I can’t let you leave.”


“But why?” I asked. “I thought we were friends!”


“No, it was all an act. You’ll never know the pain you’ve caused me…”


“It all started on that fateful day in mid March. It was a balmy day. I remember because my mom had made me wear a jacket but I ended up taking it off. I was five, and we were on the playground for recess. There I was, minding my own business on the swing set, when you two approached me and told me that I couldn’t use that swing. “This is our swing,” you said. Well I refused. That’s when it happened. In front of all my friends, Axton ripped me off the swing and then you threw me on the ground. You know what happened then? I scrapped my knee! I had to get a Band-Aid and everything. And you know the worst part about it, you didn’t even say you were sorry, and the next day you came to school acting like we were best buds. Ever since that day I promised myself that I would have my revenge and now that you’ve discovered me, it’s time to put an end to this.”


MOT’s story confused me. How could he still be angry over this? This wasn’t justice; this was a flat out revenge, which sent me into a rage. At this point, I blew a gasket. I just wanted to spew my sweet justice all over MOT. I charged him, but he was too quick with his sniper. He quick-scoped me, but it was just a grazing blow. However, it was enough to leave me on the floor next to Axton, helpless to MOT’s wrath. MOT moved in to finish us off, but at that very moment, we heard one of the greatest sounds that had ever bounced off of our eardrums and reverberated out. There was a loud bang which signified the death of MOT. He fell to the floor, and standing victorious over his body was our long lost friend Liam. “You saved us!” I graciously proclaimed.


“Yes, I was taken in one of MOT’s schemes, but the wrongs have been righted. It is over.”
He jubilantly exclaimed.


And indeed it was over. Liam had blown a hot load of justice all over MOT, ending his reign of terror.


Justice had been served, the wrongs had been righted. Our lesson was learned; sometimes your closest friend can also be your biggest enemy. Also, it reiterated the point that revenge is dish best served cold, cold like the harsh winters in the north. However, justice is a dish best served as a blazing hot platter of righteousness and dignity. With Liam’s help, we limped away from the scene to a better life, a life free of injustice. A new beginning.


Or was it…?

(MOT’s eyes open) (End Scene)





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