Sucker Punch
an excerpt

"Are...are you Lucian Crusoe?" Asked a large man, who had suddenly appeared next to Richard.
"No, I'm Richard van Pelt." Said Richard van Pelt. Sensing a look of confusion on the big man's face, he added, "But I played Lucian Crusoe on..."
"Labyrinth of Stars! Yes!"
"Yeah, you got it." Richard conceded,
"Wow, this is amazing," Said the large man, "Can...can you sign my t-shirt?"
Richard sighed, and looked over to Tristan - no matter how many times this happened, he still had to stifle laughter with incessant coughing.
"Sure," he said, "Got a pen?"
"No. Don't you have one?"
"...why would I...?"
"Hey, Rich," Said Tristan, leaning over the table, "Here." He handed over a nearly-empty black biro. The lid had been chewed beyond recognition.
"Thanks," said Richard, with more than a hint of sarcasm, before turning to the large man, "Who should I make it out to?"
"Oh, just sign your name." Said the large man, "You can't sell these things for as much if you have a 'personal' signature." Richard sighed again, his 'friend' at the over side of the table coughing so much he sounded like an asthmatic who'd just ran the London Marathon.
"Sure." This had quickly became Richard's most-used word. Sure. Not too enthusiastic, not too 'I can't really be arsed' - just the right balance between the two. He signed the shirt, trying not to look at the large man's truly amazing sweat patches.

"Gee, thanks," Said the large man, "Say, I haven't seen you in anything for a while. You still acting?"
Richard paused. "Sure," came his response.
"Where?"
"Oh, you know, this and that."
"An extra on The Bill."
" Yeah, thanks Tristan."
"Well, y'know, I'm working on this movie at the moment," started the large man, with gathering enthusiasm, "It's this sort of sci-fi/fantasy/action/romance movie. With zombies. In space."
"Sounds great," Said Richard. Tristan left the table to deal with some 'business' in the toilets,
"Yeah. So, you interested?"
"...sure..." Said Richard, with not too much enthusiasm, not too much 'I can't really be arsed'.
"Oh, cool!" Said the large man, "Here's my card!"
The card had the large man's name (Jonathon Frost, embossed in gold...foil), with a starry, space background. It had his phone number, website address, MySpace name and...sigh...the same information in Klingon.
"Give me a call, eh, Lucian?" Said Jonathon 'Large Man' Frost as he walked out the pub door,
"It's Richard!" Shouted Richard, quite rightly.
"Whatever!" Shouted Jonathon Frost.
Richard sighed. He was beginning to sound like a slowly emptying balloon, what with all the sighing.
Tristan returned from the toilet.
"Sorry, man, but that was just too funny." He looked over at the piece of black laminated card in Richard's hand, "He give you his card?"
"Yep."
"Klingon again?"
"Yep."
Tristan laughed, "Hehe, fucking nerds."

"You know what?" Said Richard, standing up, "Fuck it."
"What?" Said Tristan, looking up,
"Fuck it."
"Fuck what?"
"Everything. Ev-everything. Fuck it all."
"Everything?"
"Yeah. This...sitting in a pub, drinking Stella every night. Signing fat, sweaty anti-socialites t-shirts. Fuck it. I'm not doing that anymore."
"Uh-huh," said Tristan, rubbing his eyes, "Anything in particular bringing this on?"
"I've-I've had an empathy, that's what."
"....you mean an epiphany?"
"Yeah, whatever. I've head an epiphany. I'm not going to come to this shit-hole every night-"
"Oi!" Shouted the bar's owner, Frank, milling around in the back,
"Sorry Frank!" Richard shouted back,
"It's okay, man," Shouted Frank, "It is a bit shit."
"Cheers," Said Richard, "Where was I? Oh yeah, not coming here anymore. I'm gonna...get back into acting. I need to get a job."
"You have a job," Said Tristan, who was half-listening, half-reading the back of a packet of KP Original Roasted Peanuts,
"Delivering papers is not a job, Tristan. I'm 29, for God's sake. It's...weird."
"...well, I wasn't gonna mention it..."
"So, yeah, I'm gonna get a proper, acting job."
"In that guy's film?"
Richard ignored him, "I'm gonna get my haircut. I'm gonna get a new razor, so I can shave properly. I'm gonna stop looking at so much porn. I'm gonna buy some new clothes, with the money I'll have from my new acting job. I'm gonna take down those Page 3 cut-outs off my wall. I'm gonna learn to cook. I'm gonna get a girlfriend. I'm gonna finally read that big pile of books next to my bed. I'm gonna take more care brushing my teeth. I'm gonna actually buy music instead of downloading it for free. I'm gonna go to more nightclubs, to meet girls. I'm gonna stop trying to live of that stupid fucking twenty-year old TV show. I'm gonna make things right."
"By doing all these things?"
"Yes. Yes."
"Bollocks."
"I-what?"
"That's bollocks."
"Wha-why? Wha...wha...why?"
"You're not gonna get back into acting, learn to cook, or whatever. You're not gonna 'turn your life around'."
"Why not?"
"Because you've been saying you'll do these things every New Year's eve for the past 5 years. And you never do it."
"I...don't..."
"No. Because, Richard van Pelt, you're a lazy bastard."
Richard paused for a moment, contemplating this statement.
"....oh yeah..." he said, slumping down in his chair, "Shit."
The pair sat in silence again.
"Can I get two more of these, please, Frank?" Richard asked.