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Franky Moops - Moops For The Memories

Author: Franky Moops
Thursday, 20 December 2007
“It was Christmas 1989, and I was working as a security guard at a nightclub called New York. I had worked in the industry now for over 11 years. My wife, earlier that year, had received a big promotion with the Nobby’s Nuts Corporation. Sally’s part-time job had become a career. The promotion had meant that Sally had to move to Los Angeles to work in the Nobby’s Nuts Plaza, a 40 storey building. I figured the job wouldn’t pan out and she’d come back home soon, but as things stood, she was doing pretty well and happy with her new life. We didn’t have kids at that time so this pseudo split was a lot easier for everyone involved, which was just Sally and I.

I flew with Qantas because Rain Man told me that they’ve never crashed and that was good enough for me. I won a giant novelty teddy bear in the Qantas lounge when someone put it down to get a coffee. It was moments like this, holding a giant stuffed toy, that I wished I had kids to hold this kind of crap for me.

Back in those days, pre 9/11, it was commonplace for a man of the law or a security guard to board a plane with their gun. I carried my gun everywhere –bad guys never rested so why should I- The flight was long and taxing on the soul, and by the end of it I just wanted to kill someone. When I landed in LA there was a driver waiting for me who took me to the Nobby’s Nuts Plaza in a long black Limo. He talked some crap and smiled a lot – I figured he was new in the business so I let him live.

Nobby’s Nuts Plaza was one hell of a building, the kind of building you don’t want to fall off. I stood outside and eyed the amazing structure in front of me, but after a while it started snowing and I realised it was just a building and I should really go see my wife. Inside they had a huge 12-inch touch CRT monitor to look up the name of anyone in the building you wanted to stalk. I touched in Sally Moops. Nothing. I then tried her maiden name, Sally Generic. “Damn it Sally”. It had only been six months and she was already using her old dumb-ass name. Upstairs on the 30th floor was the Christmas party I flew halfway around the world to attend. I was hoping it wouldn’t suck. But I knew it would. That’s why I brought my gun.

I met Sally in her office and asked if I could use the bathroom to freshen up. She complained about how I wasn’t there for her, while I took off my shirt and shoes. Standing there in a singlet and bare feet I asked her to cut the crap and pointed out how she had essentially left me for Nobby’s Nuts. She said she didn’t have time to argue about who left who for whose nuts as it was her turn to give a big pep talk to the Nobby team so they’d feel empowered to make more money for the company next year. She left and I just sat there looking at my toes. I have nicely shaped toes. I could hear her giving her speech when suddenly a familiar, more soothing sound, echoed through the building.

Gun shots. People screaming. I peered though the office door out to the open area where the party was. Gunmen in nice suits had taken over and one was beginning to speak. He introduced himself as Hans Bratwurst, the CEO of Cheap Designz. He was pissed off that he had lost the Nobby’s Nuts advertising account and was there to set things straight. I grabbed my gun. I had to get out, get help. I figured the best thing to do was jump into the heating duct to hide. I probably had time to get dressed again, put my shoes on for safety, but I thought this might make things more interesting.

I crawled through the duct line until I reached the end of the main line I was in. I kicked out a silver grate that was all that stood between me and freedom, the freedom of a 30 storey drop down Nobby’s elevator shaft. But just at that moment an elevator below started to move up, so I jumped on and caught a ride to the upper levels of the Nobby’s Nuts Plaza.

All floors above the 30th of the 40-storey Plaza were still under construction, so I thought this would be a good place for me to hide and give me time to think about what I was going to do next. Obviously I had to first deal with whoever was in the elevator I was riding. It stopped on the 39th floor. I waited for the occupant to leave then made my way through the lighting panel and into the elevator. As I dropped down I was met with the butt of a shotgun to the face. I fell to the ground holding my face, blood pouring. The butt of the shotgun came down again, aimed at my head to finish me off, but before it could make contact I swept at the feet of my assailant with my arm, bringing him to his knees. Face to face for a split second, I gave him a ‘Scottish hello’, smashing his nose into his head so hard he was choking on his own brain matter. It was time for Moops to step up.

I searched his person for anything of value. A walkie talkie. A packet of smokes. A Sony Walkman. I couldn’t get any radio reception and the tape in the Walkman was Heart of Stone by Cher. What kind of madman was I dealing with- I lit a cigarette then walked to the window and tried the walkie talkie. I found a police bandwidth and pleaded for help, giving details of the situation. The Cheap Designz guy must have screened my message because no sooner had I finished talking the elevator behind me signalled it was about to open. I dived behind a pile of construction equipment as the doors opened and the room was showered with bullets from several semi-automatic machine guns. LA was turning out to be exactly as it was portrayed in the movies.

The drugs I took in the back of the limo on the way from the airport were starting to wear off. Everything was becoming too real too quickly. I didn’t handle bad situations very well, I tended to panic and do stupid things. But this was no time to panic, I had to think and think quick. But all I could think about was that this in fact was a perfect time to panic. I just couldn’t think how this could get worse – I was stuck behind some metal cutting equipment that provided as much cover as a g-string on a stripper. They stopped shooting. Reloading, coming closer, this was my chance. I needed to make a run for it. The rush made me panic even more and I started shooting at all the glass partitions. Why the partitions had already been installed before the actual level had been finished I don’t know. What I did know, was that when I was stuck behind my cover it actually was no time to panic, because now that I was running over broken glass with bare feet – it was in fact a much worse situation.”


To find out if I lived through this and many more experiences like this (four in total), stay tuned just in case 3D World take another excerpt from my book to fill a last minute ad page that didn’t sell.