You'll hear talk about the biggest mistake men can make when buying a suit. "You didn't let the tailor get all up in your business." "You went with the cheap suit." "You got something too flashy for the occasion" "You got one with the pockets sewed shut." "You rented a suit instead of buying it." Well, I didn't make any of those mistakes, and I still ended up in witness protection because of it. Though I guess I did get a pretty nice suit out of it--free, too! The tailor sent it to me with an ominous note about his appreciating my good deed and how every man should have a nice suit for his funeral and he'd hate to be the cause of me not having one. Don't worry, they went through and scanned every inch of the thing to make sure there was no kind of bug or tracker in it. I was pretty sure there wasn't, plus it sure is the nicest suit I've ever owned, and so I was pretty stubborn about not giving it up. Leaving my girlfriend of four months who decided, when push came to shove, that this wasn't permanent enough to relocate for? Fine. Missing all my family reunions and not even contacting my mom except by sending a censored letter through approved channels? Actually a bonus. Losing my job? Didn't have one at the time, anyway--why do you think I was looking for a suit? I did need a suit, badly. And I got one of the most awesome suits of all time out of it. Funny thing is, I think it's brought me luck. Kinda like I've got my own--


Inspiration: Random Flickr photo of four men in suits -> Google "four men in suits" -> Men's Biggest Mistake Buying Suits
Story potential: Medium potential
Notes: Could be fun, I guess.

The man with the one golden eye smiled at her. His cheek puckered around the scars surrounding the golden orb implanted in his eye socket. "You have juice on your chin," he told her. She glared at him. "It's hard to drink tidily when you're tied to a chair and a goon is pouring juice down your throat." He whisked out his handkerchief and approached. "May I?" She bared her teeth at him. "And be careful how you speak of my employees. I believe that Roderick, the goon in question, has very delicate sensibilities. I retrieved him from a South African jail where he resided because someone called him a thug and he took exception." She felt a chill go through her, but she forced bravado. "I'll keep that in mind. Do you want to go straight to the torturing, or shall we banter some more first?" "I really would appreciate being able to clean your chin, dear," he said. "I do hate to see things out of place. As for the torture, there will be none of that. I don't even require you to talk, and I'm not going to gloat about my master plan. I simply wished to make sure that you were as comfortable as possible under the circumstances before I left for--a meeting."


Inspiration: "Frontier Psychiatrist" - The Avalanches
Story potential: Medium-high
Notes: A bit corny, and the speech about not gloating about the master plan is now as much of a cliche as gloating about the master plan, but I do like the not-a-villain villain.

"I miss you. I'm not going to crack. I killed you." The litany running through her mind was so high and loud and noisy it drowned out everything else and raised her tension level high enough that no matter what the polygrapher did, none of the results would be significant enough to act as evidence against her. That was okay by her, she supposed, though it didn't seem to matter much. She was holding it together by focusing fiercely on holding it together. People didn't want to be arrested for murder, that was not a thing that people who held it together did, and so she--because she was holding it together,--wouldn't. It didn't seem to matter much. But she wasn't going to crack. The interviewer asked questions and she answered them with what a person who--


Inspiration: "Lithium" - Nirvana
Story Potential: Medium
Notes: Nice character, but the story here's already done.

Sitting in the shadows of the convoy truck and drinking raki while he stared out over the long stretch of desert, he wondered idly if they'd all make it. They had plenty of jugs of water in the back, a couple of goats hung up from the rack above the truck--the heat half-cured them, but the edges of the meat were going green all the same--and plenty of petrol. If the truck broke down, though, then it was a question of if somebody would find them in time. They had people on the other side who'd know when they were overdue, but those people weren't necessarily the kind of people who'd hurry out to find them when they could just wait a few weeks and then come out and claim the cargo without worrying about pesky survivors. Guns wouldn't rot in the heat. There was one camel in the back--

Inspiration: Thinking of drinking raki. Which I am not sure even exists.
Story Potential: Medium potential
Notes: Smells like a novel, if only because I don't know the setup but I think it would have to be overarching to make this work.

"It's my favorite chloroform," he said apologetically. She made an attempt to scream, but through the gag it came out as a garbled noise that might have been made by a bullfrog. "Oh, don't worry," he hurried to assure her. "I won't hurt you." She eyed him suspiciously. "No, really, scout's honor!" "You're probably one of those people who think that raping somebody isn't hurting them," she tried to say, but it came out in a garbled hum. He seemed to know what she was thinking, though. "I won't kill you, or rape you, or hurt you in any way," he assured her. "And," he laughed a little, "rest assured that I don't expect you to fall in love with me for--"

Inspiration: "Small Time Shot Away" - Massive Attack
Story Potential: Medium.
Notes: Though I am kinda curious about why he kidnapped her now. And no, she *won't* fall in love with him. Or any associate responsible for her kidnapping (which I suppose rules this out as romance right there).