Wes Shea Hassle

[WES HASSLE]

[[not finished yet]]

P.S. Remember, lovelies, Wes is just a character. His views are not shared by his creator. So... just remember that when you get to certain bits. You'll know when you get to them. ♥ anodyne

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ninety-eight percent cut ;;

MEETING THE SINNER

The name's Wes Shea Hassle, Wes to you.
Yes, I have a fucking girl's middle name.
It's because my daddy, Charles Ray Ricksburg, was a hick and my sweet mamma, Shianne Renee Hassle, was a whore. How do you like my apples?
I'm a human, dumbass. What are you smoking?
Thank God I was born Caucasian, or I probably would've killed myself a long time ago.
I'm a male. Wanna see the proof?
Sixteen-years-old...but I'm old enough for you, sure.
I fuck boys, I fuck girls, and I'll fuck you, babe.

AND YOU THOUGHT CRACK WAS HARD?

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them major drugs ;;

FLIRTING WITH THE BEAST

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Hey, honey-baby, wanna get the low-down on the Main Attraction? I'm tellin' you, and you're gonna listen. Look into that crowd over there, you won't have to look hard, and you'll see...him. Son of the devil, angel-spawn, or just plain God himself. Either way, it's all one boy: it's Wes Shea Hassle. The first thing you'll notice about him is his height, a not-so-flattering five-six, and then his pale skin, which ranges between a buttermilk and apricot concoction. Not so pale he looks dead, but, baby, you'd probably wish he was if you met 'im. He's got black hair, would be a dirty blonde if the scrawny bastard didn't dye it. It falls a little above his shoulders in triangular-sheared shreds of would-be mane, covers half of his face, the right side if you wanna be frank about it. Some people might lie to you and say he does that for the sex-appeal, but, honey, I'm tellin you, it's because he's blind in that side. Would I lie to you? You gotta get your trust on because that trust is all you're gonna have when you confront THE BEAST.

If you manage to get that close to him, a face-to-face address, you might just find yourself looking into the eye that you can see, the only one you'll want to. It'll be black, black and emotionless but paradoxically emotional at the same time. And he'll smirk at you, let you know he knows you're there and in his space and you'll notice the silver little lip ring he's got going on in the leftern side of his lip. To balance the image, you see, 'cause angels can't be unbalanced beauties, and let me tell you, this kid is fuckin gorgeous. And don't he know it.

Once you get past the smirks and the intros and all that razzin jazz, you might decide to check him out, depending on your sexuality's standing. Gay, straight, or not, don't matter. His clothes would attract your attention anyway. He might have his striped black-and-white hoodie on, skin tight to show off his form to the ladies and selective men; he might have out his plain black one or the one he personally splattered with crimson paint. They won't let him wear that one to school, you see, because them counselors know just what goes through his head. They say he's fuckin crazy 'n bound for the loony bin when he's old enough to be clinically permitted, and aren't those words a big'un. Then if you're lucky enough to get underneath that jacket, and trust me, babe, it ain't that hard, you'll get to see the t-shirt underneath. Could be one with a supersmartass logo that might turn off whatever feeling you've got goin' or could be one that would make you stop and stare. Could be black, could be white. For all I know, the thing could be pink, and wouldn't that just be extraordinary. Damn straight it would. Anyway, keep your eyes asearchin' 'cause your party's just begun, baby jean.

After you see the shirts-n-shit above, you might end up lookin at his pants, you naughty thing. They'd definately be jeans, definately be tight across his ass and his legs except for the bottoms. Those'd disappear into his God awful things they call 'Chucks' and them 'Chucks' would be a black and white checkerboard with a few of the squares colored in with a random highlighter color. Probably green or some other weird shit like that. And if you manage to get under the pants, which isn't all that hard either, well... you can tell all your little friends afterschool tomorrow if the boy named Wes Shea Hassle wears boxers or briefs and what color. And everyone will listen. Because you've touched the untouchable, baby, and ain't that something special?

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DON'T THEY GET YOU DOWN?

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i'll pick you up, babe ;;

INSIDE THE BEAST ITSELF

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8/14/06
From observations from other persons from various facilities for the psychologically disturbed and/or unwell: "nasty", "awesome", "tempramental", "lusty", "conceited", "fucking looney", "genius", "ballsy", "scary", "lunatic", "sensible", "trustworthy", "scheming", "mischeivous", "fucking amazing", "sexy", "sadistic", "evil", "tempered", "angry", "good in bed", "dangerous", "smart", "dishonest", "unstable".... From all reports gathered about the subject Hassle, Wes S., we can only gather that he is a two-faced individual. He is either a highly-intelligent and conniving young man or hideously misunderstood. Further research will provide better answers.

8/28/06
More reports from fellow personnel at the institution prove the previous assumption to be correct. Subject Hassle, Wes S., is indeed a dangerous individual. Previous reports from earlier facilities [New Jersey Youth Correctional Facility,Baltimore Detention Center,Weston Centre for Troubled Youth] show that Subject Hassle, as it will be abbreviated from here-on, is an aggressive threat to those around him. He should be monitored at all times. Report Episode 1 from a South-Doyle High School in Knox County, Tennessee: "bombing of a student's [Andre Sommers] car; foulplay suspected; camera evidence of student 341, Hassle, Wes S., received; court summoned 4/24/06." Report 23 from NJYCF: "roommate taken to nurse; 127 thumbtacks removed from back; other roommates [Subject Hassle] suspected." A further query from the event revealed that it was indeed Subject Hassle. He claimed he "got bored" and "wanted the fatass to entertain him." Exact quotes provided via record tape; back-up statement available. Report 26 from personal therapist, Mary West: Patient shows signs of impatience, perhaps disdain or complete detestation, for other persons. In 'the field', said patient toyed with others' emotions, attracted trouble, and demanded attention from certain female persons. Requesting further analysis to undergo observation for Antisocial Personality Disorder on date of patient's 18th birthday. End report."

10/06/06
Psychology PhD, Emanuel Chavez
REPORT: Today, at approximately 6:47AM, there was an explosion in the westernmost wing of the facility. Chaos ensued, naturally. Detainees scattered here and there. Took an hour to get them all successfully locked into a secure area. Took another hour to settle them all down, especially the paranoid schizophrenics, damn. Had Phylis, sorry, Professor Michaels check the surveillance cameras ASAP. Got the video footage half an hour later. Figured out the face within two minutes. Turned out to be the new kid, the one that came in a week ago. Hassle, Wes Shea, I believe his name is. Turns out the kid had a small explosive [type unknown] hidden in his minimum security room. At exactly 6:30AM, he left it outside of a Collin Pheir's room. After three hours of questioning, we got the reason for the bombing out of the kid. "He pissed me off." Pardon my French, but that's some fucked up shit right there. Now we've got a hole in the West Ward and even more paranoid paranoid schizophrenic teenagers. Jesus Christ. Good news is we're moving him to another maximum security facility in six days. Until then, it's the cement closet for him. Hope he likes concrete. End report.

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UP SO VERY, VERY HIGH

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don't let go now ;;

DIGGING THROUGH ITS INNARDS

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Tennessee, Route 33. February, 1993. What day? Who gives a fuck? Snowing? Oh hell yes. Over six inches of the white stuff on the ground. Any cars? Yes.

Only one.

It was cold when our temporary heroine, sweet little fifteen-year-old MISSUS SHIANNE HASSLE, first licked the hashish from her palm and it was cold when she stole her daddy's car from the garage. It was cold as she took that hotrod, that white '87 Chevrolet Celebrity, five miles past that shit-town of Alcoa and got even colder approximately three hours later when the white trash bitch went into labor. An illegal driver on an illegal drug at an illegal (or should've been) time. What a cliche. Honeybabe, life is a cliche.

It didn't get a name after its birth (which his drugged mother said was around 9:22am), just a whiff of cheap beer and a shotgun seat to the best show in history. And you'd better believe that shit. Generous Mommy was sweet enough to toss a cover over it before passing out in her seat. The kid could've smothered but somehow didn't. And Grandaddy didn't come looking for his ignorant daughter until both of them had come down with a pretty nice case of hypothermia. What a shame.

The infant and its (his, hun, his) slutmother were taken to the nearest medical facility, known to normal persons as a 'hospital.' But this story isn't 'bout a normal person. This is about a Hassle and everyone in Knoxville, Tennessee knew just how normal them rich-uptight-and-Bible-thumping Hassles were. Carrying on the tradition, the specialists there wondered at how the boy lived, naked and covered in his own shit, in that car, for four or so hours. You'd think he'd believe in miracles.

This tale ain't about no miracles.

Grandaddy and Granmummy Hassle took the baby away from Mommy Hassle, called the kid their own and named him, too. Or rather negotiated their daughter into naming the baby what they would have liked. "Wes", or "from the west fields." It had a ring, a much more pleasant ring than their drug addict/whore for a daughter. And they took the baby over their disgusting progeny. As soon as the infant was free to leave the hospital, the couple, barely in their mid-thirties, disowned their teenage daughter and adopted their grandchild instead. And so Wes Shea Hassle (named after unmentionable book characters) was brought up on the nicer side of life. And he lived it large.

He was a perfect child. A cute, round face, adorably emotional black eyes... His grandmother practically swooned as she took care of her daughter's product. He learned quickly, his intelligence apparent before it could have been properly tested. Learned to walk by nine months, started to talk by twenty-three, the kid could do simple math before kindergarten.. with Granmommy's help, of course. He excelled through school, having no trouble with any subject.. except history. And sociability.

His personality was apparent to his teachers, but not to his sweet grandmother. She turned a blind eye when the kindergarten teacher told her to discipline her child for throwing blocks, ignored his second grade teacher's calls when the child began to stab his fellow students with pencils. The woman didn't even go to a conference with his middle school counselor when the boy had been accused of sexually harrassing an eighth grade girl. The boy's sweetness had been enough to sway her, his empty eyes enough to block any chance of a lie ever coming through.

By high school, the beast broke through.

IT'S A LONG WAY DOWN DOWN DOWN

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Likes:
*- Explosives, bombs
*- Fuck Cupid (hometown band)
*- Hawt girls. His favorite are Asians.
*- Ai Fujikagi and Ooki Chitsu
*- Sex ("Who the fuck doesn't?")
*- Being the center of attention
*- Causing trouble, fights, etc.
*- The Lion King, oddly enough
*- Anatomy class
*- Weak-minded and/or gullible people

Dislikes:
*- People of lower intelligence
*- Being disturbed while he is planning or otherwise doing something more important (which is most of the time)
*- Religion
*- Anything affiliated with the Catholic church (NUNS)or Christianity in general
*- Physical people and fist fights
*- Being ignored
*- Idiots who think they're good at something
*- Most races other than Caucasian. Exceptions are Asians ("But only if they're hot.")
*- Homosexuals
*- Ugly girls and nerds
*- Gangsters and all things "ghetto"
*- Authority figures
*- Miss Amelie Rousseau
*- All things Tim Burton


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