My twisted mind!

So, I have finally almost conquered the flu!!  Notice I say ‘almost’.  Well that’s because I’m still weaker than I was at 8 months of age!  But, I’m slowly and surely getting back to myself!

Which is the problem.  Now that I’m not longer debating my mortality with a viral enemy, I find that there are other, darker, more twisted things going on in my little mind.

You see, there has been the beginning of a story buzzing around the twisting corridors of my blackened brain like a blowfly in a carrion house!  ( If you’re one of those beings that say “Oh My God that is vile” then you need to stop reading right this moment and go find a nice Little House book to peruse!!  Believe me baby, this is NOT the story for you!)

Anyway, I NEED to get this twisted tale out of my head and somewhere that I can reference it from time to time in case there is some gleaming nugget of inspiration buried deep in its depths!
Hopefully you will bear with me as I dig deep into my grey matter for this tale of falling apart (literally), fighting big government and hard won civil rights.

Dead To Rights

PART ONE

“Damn, damn, double damn”, she mumbled as she reached for the super glue.  “Why did this happen today of all days??”

Holding her nose in her left hand, she drew an outline of super glue around the inside edge.  Slamming it back into place, she muttered and mumbled, trying, in vain, to think of any solution that didn't involve calling Momma Fred.

Counting to a thousand by threes, she put pressure on her once pert, upturned sniffer and prayed to whatever gods would listen that this would work.  Slowly removing her hand from her fractured snout, she knew there were no gods that listened to the half-hearted prayers of a ghoul. 

Her nose slid down her face and dropped onto the floor with an unhealthy sounding splat.

“Damn!”

Picking up her cell, she pushed #1 on the speed dial and hoped that the famous Voodoo queen wasn't out robbing some cemetery somewhere.

“Yeah!”, came the soft, Southern voice. “What’s up, buttercup?”

Lisa couldn't help but laugh.  Only Fred, the most vicious and powerful Voodoo practitioner in the land, well this land anyway, would call one of her creations ‘buttercup’.

“Fred, I need your help!”  Lisa cried, hoping the Voodoo queen would come as soon as possible.

“Quit pinching your nose!  I can’t understand a word you’re saying!”  Fred sounded a bit pissed off.

‘Damn’, Lisa thought, ‘that’s all I need!’

“I’m not pinching my nose, it fell off!  I need help!  Super glue”……a loud clap of thunder prevented Lisa from continuing her explanation.

“Damn girl, who did you eat?”  Fred always came to the heart of the problem, even if the problem involved cannibalism and falling parts.

Looking at her feet, Lisa didn't answer right away.  The look on her face, the missing schnozz and the fact that she was rotting at a ridiculously steady pace was enough to answer Fred’s question.

“You’re not eating, are you?”  Fred was incredulous.  A ghoul that refused to eat was a ghoul that fell apart quickly!  “What are you thinking??  Do you want to end up as an oozing green puddle in the middle of the floor?”

Another clap of thunder and the Voodoo queen was gone.

“You're not eating, are you??  Blah, blah blah…” Lisa mumbled.  “She knows I've become a vegetarian.

“Don’t think I didn't hear that!”  Fred said. 

Lisa jumped, once again dropping her nose.

“Damn, I hate it when you do that!” Lisa said as she looked at her once pert nose flattened out on the floor.

“Here”, Fred held out a vaguely sandwich shaped bundle.  “Eat this. NOW!”

Hearing the small dark woman command her, in a tone that left no doubt that there would be dire consequences, to do anything scared the living, or in her case dead, shit out of her.

Unwrapping the bundle she sighed with relief to see it was indeed a sandwich.  Taking a large bite, Lisa chewed the mildly chicken flavored meat and instantly began to feel better.  She finished the sandwich in three bites, amazing not only herself but the woman who was responsible for her continued existence.

“Feel better?”  Fred questioned.  “Isn't that better than the grass you insist on eating?  Here, have another one, only this time hold our nose back in place while you eat.”

Fred handed Lisa a slightly larger sandwich, wrapped in plain brown paper.  Opening it quickly, she grabbed her nose with her left hand and plastered it back in place.  Taking a large bite she chewed slowly, enjoying the chicken like quality of what she knew to be, until recently, human meat.  Fighting her gag reflex at the thought, she chewed once more and swallowed.

The sensation in her face was amazing.  An itch started between her eyes and grew until her entire face felt like she had dried her face with poison ivy.  Of course if she had done that she wouldn’t itch, but she remember one time when she was actually alive…..

Finishing her sandwich, Lisa let go of her pert, upturned nose, which was now firmly attached in the correct position. 

“Girl, you have got to stop this silliness!  You ARE going to piss me off if you don’t.”  Fred usually didn't call her girl.  The fact that she had showed how worried and angry she was.  “I am getting damn tired of saving your ass.  You’d think doing it once was enough, but no, you've got to continue with your stupid bullshit and get your ass in a mess.  Who ever heard of a vegetarian ghoul?!”

Fred shook her head, causing her dreadlocks to shake and tremble like angry snakes.  Lisa could see she was doing her best not to lose control.  That was a good thing, a Voodoo Queen losing control was NOT a pretty sight.  EVER.

“I’m sorry”, Lisa said in a soft voice, “I’ll try to do better, it’s just that I don’t like eating people.”

“People, smeople.  It’s meat.  It’s not like you have to go out and hunt your own, or dig up a grave somewhere.  It’s already processed and ready for you, you just have to eat it!”  The dreadlocks shook harder. “Damn dumb ghoul.  Don’t like eating people, like I’m asking her to go kill one herself.”

“I said I’m sorry!”  Lisa was beginning to get angry, even though she knew that getting angry at Fred was a lost cause in more ways than one.  “I will go to the warehouse tomorrow and stock up on supplies, okay?”

Fred smiled a tight, dangerous smile. “Okay, you do that!  Now, isn't there something else you should be doing right now?  Like getting ready for your stupid interview on the More E. Poorbitch show?”

Lisa jumped.  She didn't realize that Fred had heard about that, but then again, she was so self absorbed that she didn't realize much that happened and didn't directly involve her.  “Yeah”, she said, “I do need to start getting ready.”

“Turn around girl, look at yourself in the mirror.” Fred couldn't believe she had brought this airhead back from the dead.  Of all the corpses to select, she had to choose an airhead.  “All you have to do is get dressed!”

Turning around, Lisa gasped as she saw herself.  Her complexion had lost the sickly green tint, her nose pert,  upturned nose was perfect, the white film that had begun to cover her eyes was gone leaving behind the most beautiful green.  Even her hair was shiny and bright.

“Oh thank you!!  I look amazing!!”  Lisa gushed.  “This is great!!  Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me, it was the sandwich.”  Fred’s voice lingered as the rest of her faded away.  “Don’t forget to eat!”

Lisa dug through her closet looking for the right outfit.  More E. Poorbitch as one tough cookie.  Talking to her about Civil Rights for the Nearly Departed was going to be rough, Ms. Poorbitch would rather scream at people about cheating, spawning hell children and not knowing who your daddy was.  Civil Rights was something she didn't usually care about.

But of course, Ms. Poorbitch had recently joined the ranks of the Nearly Dead herself.  Rumor had it that she had sold her soul for the opportunity of living forever, of course she hadn't read the fine print at the bottom of the contract.  Just because she was going to live forever didn't mean she was going to be alive to do it.  After getting hit by a large, not nearly rotten enough, melon, More E. succumbed to a brain injury.  Apparently green casaba melons are sturdier than a talk show hosts’ skull, or at least sturdier than More. E.’s skull.

Two days after her death, Ms. Poorbitch crawled out of her cooler at the morgue and walked away.  Thankfully she woke up before they came to cart her carcass off for cremation!  Who says Lucifer doesn’t have a sense of humor?  More E. was going to live forever, but she had to die to do it.

Lisa idly wondered what Ms. Poorbitch ate on her carcass sandwich.

Well, that’s it for part one.  If you want me to continue, please leave me a comment letting me know.  If you think I should hang it up and admit myself to the local insane asylum, please comment saying so!!

Later y’all!!