Fiddlecow.

[An old story from years ago, back when I dared to mix fiction with the surreal. If you don’t like it, I’ll understand.]

Kreyen and Merkins stepped out of the Elevator of Slow Motion onto the Floating Floor. On the ceiling were “Wet Ceiling” signs. Merkins hailed a doctor with shaving cream all over his head.

“Hello, Merkins,” he said, “What are you here?”

The word FOR sailed out of his right ear.

“I’m here to pick up Kreyen’s father. He is recovered, has he not?”

The doctor flipped through his clipboard and sprayed shaving cream on one page. The word YES sailed out of his left ear.

“This way please.” the doctor said.

The trio lay down and rolled to Kreyen’s father’s room. They saw him shining flashlights around the room.

“Father!” yelled Kreyen.

“Son!” yelled the flashlights before singing a song about how the M’s are printed on M&M’s candy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Very good. The team of miniature schnauzers all wagged their tails and fed me Certain.”

“MEDICINE!” howled the schnauzers.

“Let’s go. Shall we take the bus?”

“Yes.”

Everyone walked home, heel after heel.

The ghost hunters.

Our first night. Steve and I arrived earlier this afternoon at Galilee, the abandoned retirement community rumored to be haunted by ghosts and poltergeists. We found our way into one of the apartments, which, to our surprise, was still fully furnished. We set up our gear in the bedroom which had two beds. All that was left to do was wait until dusk and watch for any signs of paranormal activity. To help us wait, we decided to take a nap.

A few hours later, it was beginning to get dark. As the sunlight faded, we could hear noises, noises of scratching, tapping and the occasional whisper. Steve and I held our breaths, hoping we weren’t spotted by the ghosts. Suddenly Steve’s bed began to swell as if it was being inflated. He tried to hang on but the mattress took on a round shape as it became so large that it began pressing up on the ceiling. Finally, the mattress exploded with a loud bang as Steve fell to the floor. He sat up in a daze, trying to figure out what has just happened.

“Bummer with the inflatable mattress, huh Steve?” I said.

After a long pause, Steve’s reply filled me with terror.

“Ian, I don’t think my mattress was inflatable.”

One unfortunate night at the bar.

It was a very rough day at work. Instead of working 8 hours, I put in 12. Countless deadlines, aggravated clients and misguided negotiations boosted my stress levels beyond tolerable levels. By the end of the day, though, everything jelled and worked themselves out to everyone’s satisfaction. But my nerves were still shot.

On the way home I stopped at a bar for a drink. The mood here was festive as a live band played its string of contemporary hits. I sat at the counter and saw dozens of bottles on the shelf along the mirrored wall behind the counter where the bartenders worked. Curiously, there were also lit candles along the bottom of the shelf.

A bartender walked up to me and placed a coaster on the counter in front of me. “What can I get you?” she smiled.

“I’d like a Bloody Mary, please.” I replied.

The bartender leaned forward and said, “I’m sorry, it’s really loud in here. What did you say you wanted?”

“Bloody Mary,” I repeated.

“One more time?”

“Bloody Mary!” I shouted.

Suddenly the candles behind the bartender began to float as bottles began to fall off the shelf. The entire bar fell silent as the lights began flickering. All eyes were focused on the mirrored wall that was now trembling and shaking to the point where it almost looked ready to break. Suddenly a ghostly woman with deathly pale skin and long black hair leapt out from the mirror with her hands trained on my throat.

As I lay on the floor weakened by the attack, I could see the bartender take a piece of chalk and draw a diagonal line over four short vertical lines on the chalkboard behind the counter.

“That’s the fifth time tonight,” she announced. “Now taking bets for number six.”

Ian’s weird situation.

Ian stood by the window in the hallway, trying to assess the morning’s traumatic events.

​Let me get this straight. I’m on the 89th floor of a hospital where the doctors and nurses dress in black. My dad’s here because he had a stroke. The doctor taking care of him went to medical school for 50 years, yet he himself is 45 years old.

​Then it gets weirder. The nurses take my dad apart like a robot and the doctor takes the head and cracks it open like an egg. Out comes the brain, being the tangled mess it is. Then he unravels the brain so it’s one long slimy strand and right away he sees the cause of the stroke, a single rubber band clamped tightly to cut off circulation. He cuts off the rubber band, throws all the body parts into a box and attaches the box to a machine that will shake it vigorously. Then, with a loud P-TOO sound, out flies my dad in one piece and he lands on the bed, fast asleep. And all that’s left to do is wait for him to wake up before he can go home?

“Ian?” his mother called from down the hall. “Let’s go. Your father’s awake now.”

WHAT IS GOING ON???

The Exorcism of ‘Arking Lot, Part 666.

The lightning roared, the thunder flashed and the zombie choir screeched as I screamed at the unexpected sight of a hideous looking creature who was, in turn, screaming at me. Then I got a better look at the creature upon the next flash of lightning and judging from its religious attire, concluded it was nothing more than a decrepit priest.

“I know what you’re after and I won’t let you have it!” the priest shrieked as he pressed down on the book I was trying to remove from the pulpit. “Begone!” He raised his arm and some unseen assistants appeared from nowhere to lift me off my feet, carried me a few feet away from the pulpit and then dropped me on the floor.

I was not going to let this lame spectacle deter me from my mission, so I stood up before approaching the pulpit to make another attempt to apprehend the book.

“Stop!” the priest screamed. “Leave now or I shall summon the mighty Gummy Worm to devour you alive!”

“Excuse me,” I replied after a stunned silence, “did you say gummy worm?”

“That I did! The very Gummy Worm that lives beneath this floor while ruling the realm of evil that was once ‘Arking Lot!”

“This I gotta see,” I said while taking a seat.

“You’ll be sorrrrrrry!” the priest sang. After seeing me still seated and making no attempt to leave the church, he began thumbing through the pages of the big book before arriving at the desired incantation. Then he cleared his throat and began:

Gamma!
Gimme!
Go Moe!
Goo Moo!

I couldn’t help chuckling to myself.

What kind of incantation was that?

I looked at the priest and saw his eyes closed as if concentrating on something. The entire church fell silent, including the thunder outside. The quiet was nerve-wracking beyond belief as if to indicate a premonition of something dreadful about to happen.

Suddenly there was a rumbling noise that shook the church as the floor began to rise in front of the pulpit. My eyes widened with horror at the sight of a growing mound that caused the floor to break open and expose the concrete foundation and dirt underneath. The dirt quickly disappeared into a large hole that was now exposed, and my pulse quickened. Perhaps my decision to undertake this mission wasn’t such a good idea after all. Meanwhile the priest was laughing maniacally as he hung on the pulpit. Gradually the rumbling subsided, and all there was to do now was wait for the worm to emerge.

Ptu.

Out of the hole flew a small red-green gummy worm that landed at my feet. I could feel my fear and tension melt away as I surveyed this supposed ruler of ‘Arking Lot. I leaned forward to pick it up.

Don’t touch that!” the priest screamed. “It’s going to eat you alive!

“What, this little thing?” I countered before popping it in my mouth. I chewed it slowly to savor its sweet, fruity flavor before swallowing.

The priest was aghast. “You ate it!

“And it was delicious,” I smiled.

“Just for that, I will have you face the wrath of the Four Gummy Spiders!”

Four small gummy spiders swiftly dropped down from the ceiling and landed on the floor. “Oh, please,” I sighed as I walked around the room to each spider, picked it up and ate it. Turning back to the priest, I asked, “So what else do you have?”

You ate the spiders too!

“And I’m ready for more,” I countered.

“Fine,” the priest sneered. “No one can get past my fierce Gummy Bears!”

Suddenly a door hidden in the wall next to me slid open, revealing two small gummy bears on the floor, standing side by side. Seconds later they were gone after I too devoured them. Confidently I began walking towards the pulpit as I watched the priest frantically thumb through the pages of his book in search of another incantation.

“It’s over,” I said.

“No,” the priest replied, “it’s just beginning.”

Suddenly the floor began to rumble. Lightning and thunder raged outside, the zombie choir began screeching as the rumbling became louder and more violent. All the while the priest began sweating and his skin was tensed to the point where I could see his veins. He bared his teeth and widened his eyes as if undergoing some transformation. Then the rumbling died down and there was an eerie quiet in the church as the priest stood staring at me.

Poot.

The priest let out a small fart before he dropped dead, falling backwards to the floor. Then the interior of the church collapsed and disappeared to reveal a meadow surrounded by trees on a glorious morning. The sun was rising, birds flew by and deer appeared along with antelopes. Butterflies flew along with the bees as they caroused among the colorful flowers that bloomed all over the ground. I could sense that my mission was accomplished at long last.

And then I heard a voice.

“WHIPPED CREAM! YUCK!”

In the distance I could see the gladiator, still convulsing with disgust as he ran towards the horizon to collide with the rising sun.

The End

 

 

 

 

Rescuing ‘Arking Lot, Part 9.

WARNING: This segment of our story contains an extremely blasphemous reference some readers may find offensive. You will be warned when the paragraph containing this reference approaches.

I entered the dark church chuckling. “I’m so clever,” I said to myself. “Screaming like that when there’s nothing to scream at, yet I left the reader in suspense anyway. And no, this isn’t really Part 9, but Part 4 in disguise! LOL! ROFL!”

After my laughter faded, I decided to resume my mission to rid ‘Arking Lot of the evil emanating from this place, only I couldn’t see it. The interior of the church was so big that my flashlight did little to reveal the details in the darkness.

Suddenly a flash of lightning illuminated the interior and for the first time I could see the details of the sanctuary where I stood. Rows and rows of empty seats faced the pulpit, and I could see a horrifying sight on the wall just behind it.

WARNING: Blasphemous reference ahead. LOOK AWAY NOW

An upside-down smiley face.

Okay, we made it past the blasphemous reference. You may continue reading now.

Truly, I had never seen anything so blasphemous.

Told you so.

Suddenly I heard a horrific screeching sound and the next flash of lightning indicated its source: a choir of zombies standing along the wall, sounding as if trying to sing but instead succeeding in their voices clashing in the most dissonant notes that sounded harsh to my ears. Their singing sounded worse than a dozen forks scraping on a blackboard.

My focus returned to the front of the church where I had seen the pulpit.

Warning: Blasphemous reference approaching one last time. LOOK AWAY NOW

I tried not to look at the upside-down smiley face but my eyes caught a glimpse of it anyway.

Okay, we’re past the final blasphemous reference. Carry on, my wayward son.

On the pulpit rested a book that I sensed had plenty to do with this mess. I remembered my book telling me that this could be the very tome that contained the incantations summoning all the evil to ‘Arking Lot, but I needed to make sure. After all, this might be a different book altogether, like the latest issue of Vogue magazine.

I used the flashlight to walk down the aisle towards the pulpit where I got a good look at the book in question. The book was opened to a page that was filled with strange letters and illustrations. Upon closing it I got a glimpse of the title on the cover.

The Giant Book of Evil Incantations

Yep, this is it. In order to liberate ‘Arking Lot, I must somehow destroy this book. I began to pick it up when suddenly from nowhere came a bony hand to push it back down to its rightful place on the pulpit. I looked up and saw a deathly pale face with dark eyes and real bad teeth that shone in the darkness as it screamed.

Oh yeah, I screamed as well.

To be continued..

Liberating ‘Arking Lot, Part 3.

There I stood, face to face with a fierce gladiator more than twice my height. I looked around for a way out, but all exits were blocked.

Then the gladiator waved his sword, creating such a strong gust of wind that I was swept off my feet before landing square on my rear, right next to the book. I quickly reached for it and desperately sought any advice on how to defeat my opponent.

You again?

“Please,” I muttered as I frantically thumbed through the pages, “I need your help.”

Suddenly the ground shook as the gladiator took one giant step forward closer to where I was sitting. Just two more steps and I’d be smooshed. Not exactly a fitting end to my heroic ambitions. I continued my frantic search for advice from the book but all the pages were blank. And then I came to these words on the very last page.

What would YOU do?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “My only weapon is a can of whipped cream, for crying out loud!”

Then I paused to allow the mental pieces presented to assemble themselves in such a logically sound arrangement that I heard a loud clicking sound inside my head. A smile came to my face.

“That’s it,” I said to myself as I slowly rose to my feet. “Sounds crazy, but it just might work.”

The giant gladiator stood menacingly, clenching his sword, ready to strike. I took the can of whipped cream and popped off the lid.

What would YOU do?

I raised the can and filled my mouth with whipped cream.

There.

I stood defiantly, daring the gladiator to make his next move. His face began to register shock and disgust as he let his sword drop to the ground with an earth shattering clang. Slowly he raised his hands and placed them on his head as his eyes widened with horror. Then he opened his mouth and screamed, “EWWWW, YOU SPRAYED WHIPPED CREAM IN YOUR MOUTH!” He began convulsing and jumping in place as seemingly disgusting thoughts materialized. “GERMS! GERMS! YUCK! I HATE GERMS!” he continued screaming. With each jump the soft sand began to give way and the gladiator began to sink into the ground. He was too occupied with his thoughts to notice. Instead, he screamed, “I’LL NEVER HAVE WHIPPED CREAM AS LONG AS I LIVE!” before disappearing underground, never to be seen or heard from again. Then the giant sword too sank into the sand and a few minutes later it was as if nothing had ever happened here in the first place.

Now recovered from this terrifying encounter, I began shining my light around the room to determine my next course of action and spotted a small door at the opposite side. I began my cautious approach knowing full well that behind this door was the Source of All Evil awaiting my arrival and plotting my demise.

I slowly opened the door and walked inside.

Then I screamed.

To be continued…