Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.
Friday, October 14, 2005

Ramshackle Ambush Part Two

I'm young, healthy, and most of all, strong as an Egyptian slave hauling a crowning pyramid block. I rolled onto my stomach and sprung myself upright with a launching pushup.

"Okay, fucker, what's the gig? Spill it."

"Son, you sit back down. Now. My nephew Joey will be here any second. We need to talk to you. For legal reasons. No shenanigans. Joey's gonna explain a couple things. That's all."

"What's to explain? I'm looking at dirt traps like this for a new home! You know I can't afford to sue you over a little mishap like that accident. If it was an accident, which I doubt now. I'm outta here, Ron. You weird old fuck."

As I went to brush past the lumpish geriatric, he brandished his can of insect mace and sprayed forth another cloud of corrosive droplets. This time I was ready. I closed my eyes, raised my hands, and turned away, sparing my punished face the brunt of his malicious extermination attempt.

"I said sit down. Last warning, sprout."

I think the chemicals searing my throat and eyes made me angrier and more deranged than I usually am. I like to consider myself a nice boy with good manners. However, once pushed beyond reason, it seems I enjoy a capacity for viciousness and brutality. Such uncharacteristic traits were regrettably brought to fore by the old man's seemingly nonsensical attack. So yeah, I retaliated. Big time.

I had a pencil in my pocket. Pretty sharp, too. I fisted it, spun, and lunged for his pasty sagging face. My graphite tip sunk into his left eye with a quick quiet wet sound, like a baby's fart. Somewhere, Hammurabi was smiling.

The old fella flailed and swore. "My... mah... shit... I... Oh." He sat down hard, his neck twitching his head left and right. Shock set in quickly. I could've left at this point. I didn't. My blood was sizzling with adrenaline rage, and I felt something primal, something thirsty, something howling for carnage, carnage, carnage.

I scavenged around until I found a paint scraper. Perfect. I dragged Ron from the kitchen to the living room. His mouth was bubbling, his breaths hitching. He was dying. I knelt over him raised the scraper above me with both hands. I jabbed it down, altar sacrifice style, deep into his ample lardy gut. There was no geyser of blood or loud screams, just an "oomph" and then silence. Gotcha, old man. Bucket successfully kicked.

With dirty hands I reached inside him. Once my fingers navigated past the creamy cornish lard to his vital innards, I wrapped intestines around my spread out fingers like spaghetti on a fork. I took a deep breath and yanked.

I unspooled him, yards of gleaming endless tentacle in red, yellow, purple, and grey. I made a loop of loose guts and swung the slippery intestinal lasso towards the ceiling fan, catching it over one of the blades. I did this three more times until all four blades were adorned, and then I turned the fan on at full speed. For twenty seconds it struggled to spin, braiding the codger's wriggling guts together into a slick twist. Finally, the rope braided tight. The fan halted, still humming, still straining, trying to cool me off.

The nameless fluids of eviscera drizzled from my clothing as I left, leaving licking puddles on the sidewalk for hungry raccoons. I should've felt afraid, wondering where inside me my hateful ejaculation of energy had come from, wondering what kind of person reacts like that, wondering if I still like the person living in my body. I didn't feel that. Instead, I was triumphant, a predator licking his chops after his prey is slain, eyes darting about seeking the next pounce.

I got in my car, fired the ignition, and pulled off. As I turned from May onto 33rd, a blue van sped past and whipped around the corner, zooming to whence I came. That must be Joey, Ron's nephew. I pulled over and ambled back to the corner and peeked at the van, which was still running, the door open. Joey was running towards the house. He clutched a pistol in one hand. Urgency.

I sprinted to his van and swung open the back doors. Inside sat two styrofoam coolers. One was open and full of ice, but otherwise empty. I flipped the lid off the other. Inside sat a pair of organs, still hot, melting the ice they rested upon, staining everything red. Kidneys, definitely. I know that shape from eating chili. I took them, one per hand. I squeezed one over the van's windshield. The kidney popped. A weak splash of half-processed urine mixed with brackish blood gurgled out. I tucked the ruptured organ under a windshield wiper. I wondered where Joey had left a fresh corpse, missing kidneys, missing the light of life in the eyes. I still had my kidneys. Hell, I had three right now!

I left, leaving Joey to clean up the messes, one inside, one out. I didn't want to confront him. I don't mess with guys with guns. I'll look for places to live somewhere else in Chicago. Ukranian Village, maybe.

I'm taking the other kidney to a taxidermist.
12:50 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm


October 14, 2005 2:41 PM, Blogger Funky Fresh Freddie said...

Freddie wuz here.

October 14, 2005 4:15 PM, Blogger if_i_had_a_hammer said...

haha...not what i was expecting. shouldn't have read that after lunch. good stuff!

October 14, 2005 10:09 PM, Blogger Jennifer said...

Ahhh, I feel much better to have read the second part.

October 15, 2005 10:15 AM, Blogger Mishka said...

Once again, your ability to come up with new direction is astounding...thanks for the good read.

Like the new layout, wish I could get one of mine to look this cool.

October 16, 2005 10:41 PM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

I like the new site look Steve.

It was my bad luck to be eating spaghetti when I sat down to read Part Two. I don't blame you for my splattery heaves, only fate.

October 17, 2005 8:09 AM, Anonymous red said...

Great gut-story, steve. Love the new look too. You're evolving quite nicely.

October 17, 2005 10:02 AM, Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

Thanks everybody. Sarcastrix, I got the notification on your comment, even though it's missing from here. Blogger ate it, I suppose. Thank you, too!

October 17, 2005 10:34 AM, Blogger karen gsteiger said...

Oooh, I *love* the new layout! And you know how I was recently bitching about how I don't like it when people switch up their layouts? Well, my lament certainly does not apply here. Excellent work, Liebchen.

October 17, 2005 10:37 AM, Blogger ty bluesmith said...

whoa. cool new skin, steve.

go sox

October 17, 2005 2:03 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

This has become one sleek blog. And your authorship is so... literary.

I wish I knew how to make my blog look cool and stuff.

October 18, 2005 4:43 PM, Blogger Nobody special said...

ohhh man that's sick. Stabbing an eye = Baby I agree with everyone about the ending going in a totally different direction than I imagined.

Great new look and great story.

October 20, 2005 2:36 AM, Anonymous Mag said...

Steve Steve,That is amazing stuff - took me by surprise!

October 20, 2005 2:11 PM, Blogger Stace said...

HOLY SHIT!!! I just finished this one from the part one I read previously. I never saw that ending come. I wanna write like you. :)


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