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Illfit Outfit -
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Illfit Outfit

Illfit Outfit

Illfit Outfit Illfit Outfit sounds like the first of many unimaginably long, definitely sub-sober, and definitively fun nights out on decades-ago-Hitsville, USA, following a global rift in time courtesy of the wildly experimental if not outright faulty wormhole wrangler prototype purloined from behind the false wall in the back of Frank Black's car port and the misoperation thereof. On the meekly lit corner of John R and Canfield we catch up with Modest Mouse Read more on Illfit Outfit sounds like the first of many unimaginably long, definitely sub-sober, and definitively fun nights out on decades-ago-Hitsville, USA, following a global rift in time courtesy of the wildly experimental if not outright faulty wormhole wrangler prototype purloined from behind the false wall in the back of Frank Black's car port and the misoperation thereof. On the meekly lit corner of John R and Canfield we catch up with Modest Mouse, the time marauders in question, who find themselves pinned against the wall in an awkward debate on cetaceous atavism and Hank Williams with the lonely specter of Jeff Buckley. Things boil over and Elliott Smith lets briefly drift away his pearly, immaterial Yamaha FG 180 and swoops down from his perch atop a streetlamp to amiably mediate. Amidst all the commotion, Stephin Merritt shuffles absently past.

Cradling an autoharp and pregnant with a pocketful of mangled cocktail napkins, the bard purrs to himself the first seminal drones of a tune with the charm and weight to begin, preserve or end lives. Undoubtedly the first of many such compositions in this irreversible and handsomely absurd new chronology. For some time Doug Hoyer was their bass player. the short story on Old Ugly about Illfit Outfit reads: "Kyle?" "Liam?!" "How have you been? I haven't seen you since you moved to Calgary." "I moved back about a month ago but I got kicked out of my place." "That's unfortunate. Where are you living now?" "Nowhere, actually." "You mean you're homeless?" "Well," Kyle blushed. "I don't know how it happened.

I just couldn't get rent plus the damage deposit together in time for this new place they've got holding for me. The other place went bust because my roommate, Kevin, you know him I think, he took off for Vancouver without any notice and I got stuck with his half of rent, which I didn't have. They kept my damage deposit and I left. If I had some roommates I would be fine." "But wait," Liam interjected, "you're living on the street?" "In so many words, yes." "Well that's ridiculous.

I'll have to talk with Jenni and Catherine, but you can crash on our couch until you get your place. Come on." Kyle looked humiliated and reluctant. "It's no big deal," Liam insisted. "You can't stay out here, it is going to start getting cold soon. Come over." "Thank you so much but I would feel terrible.

But I can't say no either." Kyle grabbed his duffel bag and followed Liam to the house he shared with his band mates, Jenni and Catherine. The house was a small three bedroom with old thin walls and huge heating bills. It was the turn of October, right around when the wind changes from a blessing to a curse. At night you could hear it trying to topple the slender house. When they arrived Kyle remarked on how neglected the yard was, the leaves all over the place, the grass not mowed since early august. Liam apologized and explained how busy they all were.

Kyle promised to mow it tomorrow on his day off work. "You don't have to do that," Liam replied as he unlocked the door. They stumbled in over a multitude of shoes and boots - "Girls," he explained. Liam examined Kyle from the corner of his eye. Kyle didn't look too vagabond at all.

His beard was grown out and his hair sticky with grease, yes, but his young and handsome face was yet unmarred by the harsh outdoors. It had only been six nights or so without a roof over his head and after showing him where the shower was, Kyle managed to clean up real well. He came out of the bathroom looking reborn to civilization. Liam had put his clothes in the laundry and lent him some clothes to wear while they waited.

He turned on the TV and told Kyle to take it easy for a bit, tossing him the remote. Liam's bedroom door closed behind him. He scrolled through his cell phone for Jenni's number. "Hey, Jenni." They exchanged greetings. "Do you remember Kyle?" "Kyle Lieper, from The Bibles?" "He played drums in CLIQUE too." "Oh, yeah, CLIQUE.

Those kids were good. I didn't really like The Bibles." "Yeah, same. Anyways, I bumped into him on Whyte. He just moved back here from Calgary a month ago.

His roommate ditched him with the rent and he got evicted. I told him he could crash on our couch for a while." "Um." "He's a nice guy, Jenni. And it's getting cold out," he appealed. Then he heard drumming. "I can hear drumming through the phone." "I'll call you back." "Is he playing my drums?" "I think so." "Go stop him, please." Liam put down the phone and ran upstairs.

"Hey, Kyle," he shouted over the drums. Kyle stopped and stared at him innocently, "Yeah?" "Jenni doesn't really like it when people play her kit." Liam said, as nicely as possible. "Oh, shoot. Sorry." "It's fine." Liam went back downstairs and picked up the phone. "Hey, Jenni?" "Yeah, I'm here. I'll be home soon, we'll talk then." "Do you know when Catherine will be home?" "She's with me right now.

We'll see you in a half hour or so." The drumming started again. Liam quickly hung up the phone. He went back up stairs. Kyle stopped and put the sticks down and squeezed by him quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Liam followed him downstairs. Kyle grabbed his duffel bag and went into the bathroom. Liam heard the door click and lock. "Do you want anything to eat?" Liam called through the door. "Sure. But if it's noodles, don't put the spice on till after," Kyle called back. Liam heard him turn on the tub. Liam listened at the door for a moment.

He heard something tear open and pour out. He went to the kitchen and put some water on the boil for noodles. Opening his cell phone, he dialed Jenni back and asked her again how long they would be. She said they would leave now.

Liam said he was glad. Liam knocked on the door, "Are you taking a bath there, Kyle, buddy?" No answer. Liam knocked louder. "AAARGHRUH! Jeez whiz, that burns!!" "What are you doing, Kyle?" "Getting rid of my nose hairs!" He called back, laughing. "-with grain alcohol!" Liam heard a bottle break on the sink. "Oh no! Gosh darn!" Kyle yelled. "Kyle, open the door, I am getting a broom." The kettle started screaming as the whole house filled with the pungent smell of 90 proof. Liam took the water off the stove and poured it into Kyle's noodle bowl, putting the spice packet on the plate beneath. "There, he can season it himself," Liam muttered. Liam came back to the bathroom door with Kyle's food. The clothes Liam lent him were outside the door, soaked in grain alcohol, bits of glass, and some blood. "Kyle! What the hell, man!?" "I cleaned up the mess, no worries." "Why is there blood on my shirt!?" "I have a nosebleed," Kyle sputtered.

"Wouldn't it be bad if I had AIDS?" he joked. "Open the door, Kyle. Your food is ready. Open the door." "Just wait till my nosebleed stops, alright." Liam heard Kyle muttering. He put the noodles down outside the door and went to go get the garbage can.

He heard the door open and close. The food was gone. He shoveled the clothes into the garbage can with a fork and threw the fork away too. He tied up the bag and headed out the front door.

Catherine and Jenni were just parking. When the fresh air hit Liam he felt a little dizzy. The fumes were getting to him. "What's wrong? You're really pale." Catherine asked as they crawled out of the car. "Kyle has locked himself in the bathroom." "See?" Jenni said to Liam. She marched into the house, gasping at the harsh smell of liquor.

Liam and Katherine followed her, worried. Jenni kicked the door, "Get out of the bathroom, Kyle," she hollered. "Gosh dang, Liam, calm down, bud." "This is Jenni, and don't call me bud. What's more condescending than 'bud'?" "Oh hey, Jenni! How have you been?" he called back. "Get out." There was a long silence. "Get out of the bathroom," she repeated. "You get out of the bathroom," Kyle replied, imitating her voice. Catherine tapped Jenni's shoulder. "Let me try," she whispered. "Hey, Kyle? It's Catherine." "Oh, heeey, long time! How ya doing, Cat?" Catherine cringed, "I'm doing great, Kyle," she said cordially, forcing a smile. "Remember how I use to call you Cat Woman!?" Kyle went on. "Yes." "Yup, Cat Woman.

Cool nick name." "How are you doing, Kyle?" "Not good, Cat. Homeless, might have AIDS, spent my last money on grain alcohol, oat meal, and a new CD." Liam frowned. Jenni frowned at Liam. Catherine bit her lip compulsively. "Well.

Hmm. That's terrible news, Kyle. I'm sorry to hear that," Catherine forced herself to say. "Yeah," Kyle said, "No big deal though, Liam said I can live here." Liam shook his head. "Why don't you come out and we can talk some more?" Katherine offered. "I have a bloody nose." "Come on, I'll help you with it." There was another long silence. "Speaking of new CD's," Catherine began again, "I have a new CD, too. I actually left it in there in the CD player last night when I was having a bath.

Open the door and I'll show it to you." They could heard the CD player pop open and Kyle grab the CD. It slid out under the door. There was a bloody thumb print on the shiny underside. They grimaced. Liam could hear the sound of shrink wrap peeling.

The CD door closed. The music came booming out, pushing the speakers beyond their limits. "JA RULE!!!" Kyle screamed and started barking. Do I do to all my ladies that be livin' it up we say, What I do to all my ladies that be givin' it up uh what u do... Kyle deepened his voice and bellowed the whole song, word for word. It was all punctuated by his own improvised barking and such. Liam dialed the police. "The police are on their way, Kyle," Liam called through the door, when the song finished. "What? Why?" Incredulous. "Because you're a lunatic." Authoritative. "Watch your mouth." Portentous. "Who do you think you are, Kyle?" Indignant. "I'll perforate your windpipe, Liam." Threat. Jenni stepped in, "Get out, Kyle." Stern. "Please, Kyle." Katherine added. "No offense you guys," Kyle said, "but you guys are the worst roommates ever." The Police knocked on the front door. "He's in here," Catherine called out. The Police stomped in, two lean dark haired men, clean shaven, one older than the other. Liam explained everything that had transpired thus far.

The three of them stepped back and the younger constable knocked on the door with his baton. "Kyle, this is Officer Foerger. Time to come out now." "I already told you, I have a nose bleed." "Have you been drinking, Kyle?" "A little." "Open up the door now or my partner and I are going to have to bust'er down." "This is none of your business." "Kyle," the officer warned. "Smells like bacon out there." "I'm sorry?" "Oink Oink." The older officer put his heavy shoulder into the light door. It banged open, embedding the towel rack into the dry wall.

Kyle dodged the door and used the officer's forward motion to throw him into the bathtub. There was a thick film of oatmeal on top of the water. Kyle himself was naked and encrusted with oat meal. Dry blood was all down his face and chest.

He punched the younger officer in the ear and went bounding through the house yelling "I have AIDS, don't touch me!" The older officer scrambled out of the bath tub and took off after Kyle with a tazer and a bottle of mace in either hand. Kyle threw dishes and ornaments and anything he could get his hands on, leaping off of furniture and swinging through door frames, oinking like a pig. Liam, Jenni, and Catherine had rushed outside. There was a crowd gathering in front of their house. They heard a gun shot.

Kyle came crashing through the screen door and sprinting down the street. All the spectators fled, shrieking. The younger officer ran out the door after Kyle, alone. Sirens were echoing in the near distance now. Kyle took off across a school field and onto a playground.

He climbed the colorful edifice and began screaming from the top, with all his strength, "CARPE DIEM, CARPE DIEM, CARPE DIEM..." until the younger officer maced him, tazed him, hand cuffed him, and dragged him banging and bumbling down from the playground and onto the sand like a suffocating fish. Read more on User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply..
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