Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The Third Beesting

That was an ugly woman! Did you just see her? I mean, I don't normally say this, but that was an unbelievably ugly woman! I keep coughing but it's not making much of a difference, you know? I thought she would fade away with each cacophonous yelp, but it's not happening anymore.
You don't see her? Really? Well what about the giant box of Hamburger Helper then?

Friday, September 24, 2010

Downtime In Dreamland

It's tough out here.
I just got jumped the other day. It was about 7 pm, almost dark, and I was still walking back home from Zenphlac's house. I knew I should have taken the shortcut this time. You know how it is.

Like I said, I got beat down that night.
I know I had stayed at Z's house a little bit later than usual. I think it was on purpose. That night, I didn't even want to go home. I stalled as much as I could. Told Z that I didn't understand what we "learned" in class that day. I didn't care which class. I just really did not want to go home. Isaac was going to be cracked out that night. My older brother, Isaac started using calcoholic encaine a few months before the night I got knocked out. It was one thing that he used to bully me, like a regular brother, but this was just so hard to watch. I'd rather be thrown onto the bed repeatedly than to watch him, sitting there, eyes sunken in with needles in both arms. I don't even want to talk about the headgear.

I took the long way home.
So, I was trying to prepare my mind for what I'd see when I got home. I was much too distressed to realize what was coming up, in front of me. It was Tyrre. He was the last man I had hoped to see in this mindset. Tyrre was the guy who gave my brother the drivers in the first place. You can believe Isaac never returned them. Now, I had to pay.

This is how the beating went down:
Two other very black men came from behind the nearest trees. One other man must have showed up while I was watching Tyrre dig into his pockets for that rattling chain he stole off a haunting ghost, so he could probably use it to smack me with. A fourth man, whose leather was red rather than very black, seemed to walk.. almost time-lapsed.. from up the street with a long cane in his left paw. It was about to start. I was about to be beat to hell. Literally.

I was scared, though.
Of course, the first thing that I did was duck, and try to run under their arms' lengths. The cane man made sure I did not. Crack! A scuffed plastic cane blasted toward me, and remained above the bridge of my nose as it somehow pushed me back up, onto my feet. When I had finally risen, the two very black men held both of my arms behind my back. The third man grabbed my legs. I watched the cane man walk around me and I soon felt the cane once again, under my throat. Then came Tyrre. He did not do what I had imagined, which was inflict any direct bodily harm with that rattling ghost chain. Instead, he wrapped the chain around his wrist, no where near his actual hand. This somehow caused his fist to actually glow.

I knew I was in trouble.
He had the other men get their licks in, before he did what he was going to. That was the beating, technically. What happened immediately after, was the part that changed me. I found that my mouth had been stretched open on both sides, exposing my teeth. Tyrre, with his glowing hand, reached toward my face. He began flicking the teeth out of my mouth, one by one, as if they were little pebbles. No blood. I watched as each tooth fell to the asphalt. It was practically painless, so all that went through my head was that I could probably get those put back in by the doctors at Nana's place.. until the next thing happened. I was let go. I did not trust that I was free yet, of course, so I stayed put. I think he knew. Quickly, he began to take each of the individual teeth and grind them into the street, like chalk. He made it a point to make sure that each tooth was at least broken in half. I did not know what to have done.

It was over.
Almost as soon as I saw the last tooth snap and crumble into a powder, Tyrre and his buddies had left. I was still in the same spot, as I simply dropped to my knees, in front of my teeth. All I could do was stare down, in confusion, as I started to drool over the remains of my molars. That was when I noticed that one had not been broken. This was the last full tooth on Earth.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Bob Seger

From the moment I hit the street, the only thing I could hear was Bob Seger. Literally. He had taken his family out to dinner in the way that radio personalities go out in public hoping to be recognized. The only difference was that this was my favorite Chili's.

In a drunken rage he began shouting lyrics from some of his better known songs, but I swore I heard a Michael McDonald tune sewn somewhere in his intoxicated, yet somehow musically brilliant song medley. His singing was eventually drowned out by his nonsensical rambling, but no one could tell the difference. I began to laugh, but as I did so he started to approach me. I panicked. Quickly I scrambled to find something to do with my hands. I reached first for my phone, but to my horror, my pockets were empty! The possibility of faking a text was out of the picture, and every second he was getting closer. As a last resort, I actually pretended to be listening to an iPod that clearly was not there. The king of late 70's rock was only feet away now, and my heart raced at a dangerous speed. To my surprise, he actually walked by me without yelling a single obscenity.

So there I was, standing outside at closing time, just watching him walk on past.

I scurried home and told my wife every detail of my "night moves". She decided to celebrate by heating up some strawberry Pop-Tarts in our dying toaster. We spent the rest of the evening chewing on those disgusting little treats.

Sunday, September 19, 2010


I can't remember ever having a pet. In fact, I have proof that I've never had one. Nonetheless, there he lies. Sleeping so sound, showing no signs of movement. I wait for him to erupt.
He would have to, why else would he be there? The actions of my life foretold this, so why shouldn't it be today?
Even with this knowledge, I watch him restlessly. I watch him watch me, without even watching me.
Almost like clockwork he jumps at me as I enter my busiest moment. I struggle against him, resisting with my best methods, but still he attacks relentlessly.
My arms fall limp and I succumb without even saying a word. After all, what's the use? It's only Monday.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Synchronightmare Pt. 1

January 7th, 200* - 5:04 PM

[Joey begins to remove his jacket when his room mate, Chen, begins to acost him about the trash not being taken out that morning.]

Chen: Joey, it was your turn today.

Joey: Yeah, yeah... I know. I'll take it out in a second.

Chen: Better, you cracker-ass piece of shit.

Joey: Watch it, Zipperhead.

Chen: What? Are you soiling your trousers about a little bit of meaningless racism?

Joey: No, I just have a habit of inserting retorts where they're due. Besides, Asians can't make fun of white people. Your dicks are smaller than ours.

Chen: That's why it's so easy to skull fuck you in your sleep, beetch.

Joey: You aren't defending your case very well. Anyway, I don't have time for your shit. [Walks across room to grab the trash, and heads for the door] Don't wait up, I'm going to sleep under Noose Park Bridge tonight.

[Joey leaves, slamming the door behind him. Once he's gone, Chen goes to his closet and fetches a shoe box from the top shelf. From the bottom of the box, he produces a well-kept pistol and puts it in his mouth, laughing quietly to himself around the muzzle]

January 8th, 200* - 4:32 AM

[Joey walks into the dorm room quietly, carrying a black garbage bag full of jingling metal objects. The light cast from outside falls directly over Chen's face, waking him up. He sits up in bed.]

Chen: Odd ours to be sneaking in. Whatcha got in that bag, a dead cyborg whore?

Joey: Go back to sleep, Ching-Chong. You really don't wanna know what's inside this bag.

Chen: The oriental mind is always inquisitive, I guarantee you. How do you think the Japs ended up thinking of tentacle porn? Look, you woke me up at oh-dark-thirty in the damn morning, and I am sure there will be no sleeping if I attempt to lay back down. I think you owe it to me.

Joey: I don't owe you shit. If you're not tired anymore, go over to the botany wing and tend to your fucking rice paddy.

Chen: Hmm, cute. Your quips are explosively clever. I'm gonna start writing them down in hopes that one day, I too will possess the power of extreme jack-assery.

Joey: Yeah... [Carries garbage bag into the bathroom and begins unloading its contents onto the tile floor]

Chen: [While walking into the bathroom to observe Joey's work] You really are fuckin- [He enters the room and sees a series of strange titanium pipes and frame pieces laying on the floor in borderline OCD fashion] - Holy shit! What are you building with that crap?

Joey: You don't.. [sighs and wipes sweat from brow] .. want to know. In time, however, you will.

Chen: What do you mean by that?

Joey: Just fucking leave! Damn!

Chen: Not until you- [Chen's phone begins to ring] -hold on. [Answers phone] Hello? Mom? What's going on?... Really? Christ... I- I'll be right over, give me twenty minutes. [Hangs up phone]

Joey: What's the matter? Did the dog get stuck in your mom again?

Chen: Shut up, this is serious. My mom can hardly speak! She says she's bleeding. I have to go.

Joey: Give her my warmest regards! [Chuckles] Tell her that I know losing her virginity must have been hard, especially to a filthy fucking doggy!

[Chen slams the door on his way out. Joey continues to tinker with the titanium parts with a psychotically content grin on his face.]

January 8, 200* - 10:16 PM

[Joey is lounging on his bed, reading a thin book. Chen slowly enters with a grave expression. His formerly white shirt is now a dark shade of crimson.]

Joey: Hey bud. Whatchu got goin' on over there?

[Chen does not respond, but continues to shamble towards the sink.]

Joey: Konichiwa! Hey, motherfucker! What's with you? Did your dear momma keel over or somethin'?

Chen: [Casts a haggard look of hate over his shoulder at Joey, then continues to face away from him] As a matter of fact... she really is dead. Thanks for asking.

Joey: [Barely able to suppress a smile] That's just.. well.. downright terrible. I'm sorry, man.

Chen: Sure. I think I'm just gonna go to sleep. Can you try to keep it down?

Joey: Oh, don't even worry about that. [Sets book down and goes to his closet to grab a blazer] I have a little bit of business to attend to. I won't be back until noon tomorrow.

Chen: Whatever.

[Joey quickly leaves, forgetting to lock his closet. Chen steps back from the sink and dries his face of sweat with his bloody shirt. As he turns around, his eyes detect a familiar pattern in Joey's closet. It's a shred of the skirt that his mother was wearing when he found her, sticking haphazardly out of a pile of dirty laundry. He lifts a handful of soiled shirts to discover a few polaroids as well. Upon closer inspection of the pictures, he sees an even more familiar sight: His mother laying face up in her living room with a number of meat hooks jutting from her abdomen and neck.]

To be continued...