poor man's mickey spillane

she came in on a cessna. he was waiting for her on the far end of the tarmac in his beat-up, shitty 1970's muscle car. her hair was high, stiff and bottle black and i was sure she was from tennesee. he had black hair too, but his was slicked into a highly reflective homage to elvis with cheap pomade. he sat shirtless in the heat of the car pulling absently at his long sideburns. she walked off the plane and headed straight for him. the next time i looked at them he had slipped into his shirt and they were locked in a desperate, sweaty, white trash embrace. it was ugly and i looked away. soon they were on the road headed for his bus conversion, which was also an extended cab truck and an actual house with a foundation and a yard. 3 little girls waited for them. i had been caulking the edge of one of their bunkbeds earlier in the day and i was worried that it wouldn't be dry by their bedtime.

fast foward to that night and the little girls were tucked in and sleeping. the grandfather was asleep in his pajamas in the front seat of the bus. a woman entered and startled the old man out of his sleep. her intention was to murder the man and the woman, but when the old man voiced his alarm, she gave him a whack with a machete on his forearm and then continued until he was dead. his cries woke up the little girls and while the woman was occupied with hacking the old man to death, they ran behind her out the door and hid themselves in the fog that blanketed the ground. the killer murdered the man and the woman and then searched briefly for the little girls, but the fog reached to her waist and the area was too great to search for very long. even though the woman passed very near them several times, the little girls remained invisible to her. the woman left and the children stayed hidden until the police arrived.

as the police processed the scene and i heard them say the perpetrator had to be a man because the act was too violent. just then one of the little girls came walking down the hall and asked me about her hamster, i didn't have the heart to tell her that her hamster had been killed too. i went out and got another hamster and when i put it in her hands her face lit up. i remember thinking it was good that children had compartmentalized perspective because even though she had just experienced this horrifying and grisly event, she was filled with absolute joy over the baby hamster she now held in her hands.

the bodies of the man and woman were covered in sheets and one of the detectives that stood over them was dressed as a poor man's mickey spillane; cheap suit, bad shoes and a faux fedora that held lineage closer to a porkpie hat. i remember thinking he would never be able to get to the bottom of things.

glass frog

he was old and he was holding a piece of technology in his hands that his 19th century skill-set could not make work. the casing was clear and its parts and wires were visible and it looked like the electronic belly of a glass frog. the device was as still as a rock and the man could not even illicit a buzz or blink from the thing. he said it was useless and i tried to explain to him that it was not. he started to shake it and knock it on the edge of the table. i offered to take it from his hand and explain it to him but he grew even more agitated upon hearing words that represented more things he didn't understand. his rheumy eyes looked at me sharply and i saw that he thought i was now part of the problem. he raised the object above his head and smashed it on the ground. he mumbled under his breath, kicked the broken pieces and slowly climbed the stairs to his porch without looking back. he slammed the door behind him.

soot

everything was soot. at first we all thought it was beautiful because someone spotted a nighttime rainbow, then we looked closer and it was a dirty rainbow. everyone grew more and more sad as we realized that everything was soot and the darkness was soot and our lives were soot.

blind spot

he kept saying that one of his dogs was aggressive and would point to the passive one. i would say, 'no, that is the wrong dog' and he would say, 'oh,oh, really? okay, you're probably right. are you sure?' and then the aggressive dog's lips would curl into a snarl and i said, 'yes, see?'. anyway, it went back and forth many times and it was as if he had a blind spot when it came to this aggressive dog. i thought 'this guy should not own dogs.'

hamburger

there were two old men who had a long history of child abduction, sexual torture and murder and they had successfully captured another child. i was the child, but i couldn't handle being helpless so i became one of the two rescuers on the hunt for the child. the men had meticulously mapped the route to their torture chamber in a confusing labyrinth of tunnels left over from the resistance fighters in WWII and dragged the child behind them with a rope tied around her waist. the child pretended to have difficulty keeping up but really she was leaving a trail by scuffing her feet in the untouched layer of fine dust on the ground, dragging her hands against the soot on the walls and tipping over rocks whenever she could.

the powerful me found the entrance to the underground in the middle of an overgrown forest. i spotted the child's trail and dropped softly to the ground from above. the air was cool. the ground had given away above the tunnels in hundreds of places and formed thin pillars of light. i knew if the men got too far ahead of me i would lose them in the deeper earth and eventual darkness. i motioned for my partner to follow and we ran as quickly and silently as forest people. though i carried two rifles, three pistols and a large knife, i felt as light as a feather. within a short time i could hear the fragmented leftover echos of human speech. i slowed my pace and moved more carefully. i motioned for my partner to circle around behind them. the child protested and whimpered as the men laughed and described the atrocities they were about to visit upon her. i moved myself into a hidden position and saw them sliding some slabs of concrete to uncover a deeper passageway under the floor. i knew if they went further they would be lost to me. i stepped out into the light. both looked up at me with wide eyes. the tip of a fine thread of spittle from the mouth of the 'leader' touched the toe of his dirty boot as he cracked a grey-toothed smile. he saw i was alone and dangled the child by the rope on her waist over the small hole to taunt me. she was swinging slightly. i looked into her eyes and said, 'kick'. she understood and immediately began to pump her legs like she was on a swing in a playground. as she reached the top of the arc farthest from the hole, i pulled a pistol from my hip, fired a shot and sliced the rope clean through. she tumbled forward and then scrambled to her feet and ran toward me. i moved her immediately toward my partner so he could gather her up and bring her to safety. he called over his shoulder, 'don't hurt them, shandra'. the men laughed and repeated the phrase in a mocking, high-pitched, sing-song manner.

i shot them both into piles of hamburger.

patrick stewart

i'd been dating patrick stewart for years. he was so smart and we shared the same sense of irony and humor. we laughed all the time, loved the same books and films, had learned to tango and had a great sex life. we were best friends and we had both decided just to be together forever. for years we had worked on the same show, but the last season patrick had not been his usual self. he was distracted and self absorbed. it seemed he had forgotten who i was to him. after being brushed off more than once when i tried to speak to him about it, i'd decided to pull back, give us both some space and take my hiatus without him. i went to italy and had some dolce vita to the 10th power. by the time the show was ready to start again i felt refreshed, happy and eager to see patrick and set things right. my 1st day back on the set, the DP grabbed my arm as i walked onto the stage and circle walked me back outside. it was funny and cute so i played along, but his expression was serious. he took both my shoulders in his hands and turned me squarely to him. 'shandra,' he said, ' patrick married the red haired day player while we were on hiatus.' 'the stupid one with red hair that always holds her eyes open too wide?' i asked. 'yes, the stupid one with red hair that always holds her eyes open too wide.' he answered. i was stunned. worse was that she was actually THERE. patrick came running up to me saying i'm sorry, i'm sorry.... i made a terrible mistake! please forgive me! i stammered and tried to answer but i just started to cry. patrick held me and whispered ' i'm sorry...' into my hair. i looked at him and said, 'i just don't....why?' he said he had no idea, but that he had obviously gone briefly insane. i asked if he was still married and he affirmed that he was. 'why? i stammered again. 'i can't bring myself to tell her it's over, plus now she has a speaking part.' he said. i felt like the room was spinning. i kept saying, 'nothing is really making sense to me...'. he said, 'i know, i know. but please tell me you'll take me back!'. 'what? patrick, i can understand losing your mind for awhile, but i can't ignore that you are MARRIED to the weird day player who holds her eyes open too wide, now has a speaking part and is standing behind the boom dolly right now staring daggers into me'.

i spent the rest of the day being comforted by the crew, pursued by a repentant patrick and stalked by the the stupid red haired day player who always holds her eyes open too wide.

mormons

i was in the land of the mormons except they were all dressed as christian fundamentalists. all the men sported short sleeve, small checked, buttoned to the neck shirts and those hybrid porno/politician/TVpreacher hair helmets and all the women wore their hair long and their shapeless blouse/skirt outfits to the floor. for them, everything was church church church and it seemed that none of them ever went home. even though they knew i wasn't 'one of them', they fed me and welcomed me with wide smiles, blank eyes and open arms. i was pretty sure they were 'love bombing' me and setting me up for the christian conversion kill, but i didn't care because i essentially had total access (with the exception of The Sacred Room) and was allowed to wander and talk to anyone. right away, my attention was drawn to a very lively teenage girl. the others told me that she had been determined to educate herself as thoroughly as possible and i thought 'oh, she doesn't buy into this crap, i'll let her know she's not alone.' when i managed to talk to her a little later, she had the same glassy look as the others. i rounded a corner and saw a man slapping a baby in the mouth in plain view of dozens of the parishioners. the baby cried so hard it could not make a sound. i grabbed the baby and just as quickly the baby was pulled from my hands and placed into the arms of the glassy-eyed mother standing nearby. everyone kept saying children had to be 'trained' and it was 'their business'. as the day passed i grew less and less concerned with being a good guest as i saw countless incidents of parents controlling the natural playful instincts of their children with words about hell or the devil or 'punishment' and i just started thinking, 'fuck these assholes'. i found my moment and went into The Sacred Room. it was covered with cheap veneered particle board wainscoting and filled with rows of Best Western maroon buffet chairs. to my right was their most treasured object; a very ugly pewter colored ceramic plate with some abstract religious representations carved into it (very 70's). it was in a well lit recessed case and rested on a piece of artistically arranged astro turf. i grabbed the plate, wrapped it carelessly in the astro turf, slung it under my arm and walked back into the main room. soon people were asking me, 'what's under your arm?' 'nothing' i answered as i reached for food from their carefully held plates and chewed with my mouth open as i stared into their eyes. soon word was spreading that their sacred object was missing. i started saying 'hey, you know i'm an atheist, right?' to anyone near me. they were all getting so frightened and within minutes their leader was standing in front of me. 'is that our sacred object under your arm?' he demanded. 'nope' i said and wandered away. apparently he recognized the astro turf now but was afraid to touch me because he thought 'atheist' meant 'devil'. i walked around knocking into things and pretending i was about to drop the plate. soon the room was dead quiet and all eyes were on me. as i neared the door i turned and said 'you know you're all just child abusing morons, right?' i held the bundle of astro turf at arms length and dropped it as i said to the leader, 'here, hold this.' he dove to catch it just before it hit the floor. i kicked open the door and gave them all the finger without looking back as i walked back into the bright day.

the jon and kate

we were setting up to shoot at their mansion and it was huge. everybody kept making snide comments about the obscene amount of money the thing had cost and i was totally on board with that until i started to wander around the house. everything was designed and built with children in mind. every nook, every bookshelf, play area and bathroom. soon the jon and kate machine showed up and started going through hair/mu/wardrobe. jon was wandering around the grounds showing the poor PA's all his hoaky art projects that he was convinced were genius, talked endlessly about his imagined accomplishments and generally made himself impossible to corral. kate was cooperative and quietly cheerful. she had brought her latest spawn; a preemie that was somehow able to say some words and understand enough to behave. kate sat quietly through her prep and then stood around unobtrusively waiting for direction. if there was a question about arranging the furniture or whatever she jumped right in and helped move it. she let everyone hold the baby and was not precious about it at all. jon insisted upon wearing his hardy gear even though the company had refused clearance for it because they said he had ruined the brand. later i found myself standing next to kate. she told me they were losing the house. i felt sorry for her. someone whispered in my ear that jon's penis was 3 inches long. i said well, that explains why he's such a douche.

bumblebees vs. the wasps

i lived on a different world in the aftermath of a terrible and destructive event. i was bright yellow from the neck down and covered with fine fur. my species was being exterminated by our similar looking cousins who had courser fur of the same color from head to toe. you could not easily differentiate them. my people were intelligent, organized, industrious and gentle. our murderous cousins were much larger, stronger, pack-like and duller mentally, but they were ferocious hunters. i did not know why they'd decided to killed us all, but kady and i were the last two of our kind. we were making our way through the smoking ruins of a once thriving metropolis. we knew our bright color was a like a beacon but our fur was so silky it repelled dirt- we couldn't really even smudge ourselves for camouflage. for some reason they only wanted to kill me. i kept trying to get kady to take another path so she would be safe, but she said she would not leave me alone. we were at a heart breaking stalemate. i was leading us forward but to what i did not know. the whole world seemed gone and in my heart i felt hopeless. every now and again i would catch a bright flash of yellow in the distance and knew it was only a matter of time before we were spotted by them.

we were carefully making our way along a dark, crumbling wall when a door opened and stung our eyes with blinding bright light. we were both grabbed and pulled into the doorway. we were so exhausted and stunned we put up no resistance. we were quickly ushered toward the back of the immaculate apartment and put into the bathroom. the man who had grabbed us motioned for us to be silent by pressing his fingers to his lips and pointing outside. his 'dog' was bipedal and sentient, but had only the language of dogs. he smiled at us the way dogs do and then i understood then that the man was to be trusted. kady and i instinctively wrapped ourselves in towels and the shower curtain to hide our bright yellow bodies. almost immediately there was a banging knock on the door we had just been pulled through. i heard the man arguing in a language i did not speak but understood enough of to know it was the tongue of the big yellow warriors. the man led the warriors all over the apartment and soon stood with them in the bathroom 4 feet from where we sat. i held kady's hand and mentally prepared myself to die. the man was stern and powerful and i gradually understood that he was using a glitch in the warriors hard wiring to our advantage. though they could clearly see our faces, because they could not see our yellow bodies and were being spoken to in a didactic manner, they were not triggered to hunt further. i realized this was the man i had always heard the yellow warriors thought was a wizard. at that moment i almost smiled.

before the man led the warriors out of the bathroom and shut the door, he snuck me a wink. it was then that i began to quietly cry.

3 nights in a row...

A big hot, steaming plate, bowl or pot of words with someone up to their elbows trying to mix them all up.