Thanks a LotbyJakeRivers©
Not my usual sort of story, but hey! A competition is a competition! This is my Halloween submission.
Thanks as always, to Techsan for his fantastic editing. (Note: there are tons of intentional errors in this! It's not easy to be crazy! Give me a break!)
And vote, folks! It takes 25 votes to even be eligible for the contest!
Solange looked at the box that came in the mail. There was no return address, just the box. Opening it she found an old 45 record. "Shit," she thought, "I haven't seen one of these for years." The title was "Thanks a Lot" and squinting she could see it was done by Ernest Tubb. It didn't mean anything to her... she wasn't sure she had even seen a 45 vinyl before!
After staring at it for a while, she figured "What the hell!" and put it on the record player (which she hadn't used since her asshole husband had finally got the word and left). She looked at the settings, saw the 33-rpm, and yes, there was one for 45-rpm. Playing the record she heard a somewhat whiney, somewhat scratchy voice (a nice voice she decided) singing:
I got a broken heart and that's all I got
You made me cry and I cried a lot.
Then you were gone, honey, thanks a lot.
You told my friends as I was passin' by
That you're not sorry that you made me cry.
You said I deserved everything I got.
If that's the way you feel, honey, thanks a lot.
You wanted a fool and I played the part.
All I got is a broken heart.
We loved a little and you laughed a lot.
I just needed your love,
Honey, thanks a lot.
Damn! It was from her Ex. This being October 31st, she figured it must be his (always) strange sense of humor. Asshole!
She took the record, broke it over her knee, and threw it in the trash.
And... forgot about it.
i was messed up again – damn pills shit I was tryin' to 'member somthin' what what shit! oh yeah that bitch that bitch sent her the damn thanks a lot song yeah thanks a lot a lot shit what oh yeah I was gonna git that damn bitch yeah thanks a lot
WHAT TO WEAR
Solange forgot about the record and started thinking about the party that night. With some friends, she had been invited to this party that sounded really wild! This bed and breakfast inn was going to be torn down so a winery could be built. The bar where she partied was renting the place; it had been empty for a year.
The theme was "Psycho", the Hitchcock thriller. The B&B was being decorated to look like "Bates Motel" even down to the sign. Everyone drew a piece a paper telling him or her their role, and how they were to dress. Since there were really just a few parts, they had multiple persons assigned to each role. The fun would be to see how each person adapted their part!
What made it really sound like fun was the bar promised some surprises!
Solange had drawn the role of Marion Crane, the embezzler. She was excited about this and had some great ideas, both for the outfit and the role. Oh, yeah! This was going to be fun.
She went upstairs to take her shower. Standing in the tub she pulled the shower curtain closed. Adjusting the water temp she started thinking of Juan, Juan Alejandro, a guy she had met at the bar, but had not fucked yet. But she would! Forgetting about the shower she started rubbing her breasts then put her hand between her legs, images of Juan in her mind.
A noise, faint, almost intruded in her mind. A shadow, maybe a shadow, oh! Her climax! The shadow, what was it. Oh, my god! Shit! Panicking, she flung the curtain open and saw... shit! Her roommate Miranda.
"Jesus Christ, Mira, you scared the shit out of me!"
Laughing, Miranda said, "Yeah, I noticed you were somewhat preoccupied! Whose cock were you thinking about this time? Anyway, hurry up! I have to get ready too."
ah fuckin' pills anyway grass was better pot, grass, weed, maryjane, acapulcogold, reefer grass oh yeah oh that bitch oh thanks a lot a lot a lot oh this is good yeah I got plans for her oh yeah thanks a lot she'll get it yeah this is good shit o yeah I know about the party oh yeah good shit oh what's in the bottle get that bitch thanks a lot bates I am I am yeah norman oh stormin' norman nah norman the knife guy thanks a lot
TO THE PARTY
Solange and Miranda took a cab to the party. Neither expected to sleep in their beds that night. Solange had decided on the sweet innocent look, a vulnerable look. Miranda was obviously Norma Bates, the mother. She had found a really old black gown, dusty, cobwebs, dowdy in an antique (junk) store. She wore it as it was, no cleaning, to get more atmosphere.
The cab pulled in front of the "Bates Motel". There were no lights. It was dark. The cab driver said "Ladies, you sure this is the right place?"
Miranda answered, " Fuck, yeah! Just let us off."
They looked at the somber building, quiet for a moment. Approaching the front door they looked at each other, a question in their eyes. Pulling the old fashioned ringer they waited for a response, and waited. Nothing!
Shrugging their shoulders, they walked around the side of the house. There were no lights. Dark! Very dark!
There was a path, sort of a path! Stumbling towards the back, Solange slipped on the grass... slipped and... EEIEEIEH! A curdling scream, dying in a throttling breath as Miranda dived into the mud with Solange. Solange grabbed Mira's hand and, scuttling to the side, tried to get away... as the flashlight came on!
Jimmy, the owner of the bar laughed "Gotcha!" Taking their hands he lifted them and walked to the back of the house. Putting his hand on their ripe buttocks, he helped them up the stairs.
"Open the door," he directed.
Solange took the door handle and twisted it open. As she pulled the door, there was a godawful sound, a creeaakk followed by a blinding light shining on a skeleton hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping down it's arms.
yeah she laughed at him she did did thanks a lot but he knew he knew the party he did she there yeah she would be laughed at him she did with her friends she did my broken heart yeah thanks a lot all I needed was love thanks a lot get her I will damn her I will the party yeah the party yeah damn she the bitch a broken heart yeah not sorry no needed love thanks a lot
Jimmy was laughing like hell at Miranda and Solange... he kept saying gotcha! Gotcha! Over and over, almost cackling.
"Come on, ladies, the booze is in the lobby."
They walked into the lobby into a cacophony of sound. Everyone seemed to be there already. Two, three and even four of Norman Bates, his mother Norma, Marion Crane, the sheriff and highway patrol officers, even the hardware store customer. Clearly they were into the booze, and apparently for some time.
Jimmy had done a good job. Every few minutes the lights would dim and a ghostly voice would spout some dialogue from the film. The characters for that part would parade in front of the bar and people would clap for their choice of the most authentic.
Every once in a while the lights would stay off and there would be strange noises rattling around the house, punctuated at times by an eerie scream from upstairs.
When this happened, Solange would feel the hairs at the back of her neck rise, and she would shudder. "Shit!" she thought, this is almost too real!"
After a few drinks she needed to use the comforts. Asking around, she found out that Jimmy had only wanted to spend the money to fix up one bathroom, the one upstairs representing the famous shower scene. Hesitating, then saying to herself "Damn! This is stupid! This is just a party" and slowly climbed the stairs.
oh yeah plan yes a plan shower yes a knife thanks a lot sharpen it yeah sharp cunt in the shower yeah thanks a lot didn't deserve it it not a fool yeah a brokin' heart kill the bitch yeah thanks a lot
Solange slowly climbed the last few steps to the second floor. It was dark, only a red light over a door down the hall. Walking to it she felt the goose bumps rising on her arms.
Sardonically laughing at herself she thought "Jeez! It must be Juan that's doing this to me."
Opening the door to the bathroom, everything looked normal (whatever normal was in this zoo!).
Looking in the mirror, she grinned and said to herself 'Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"
A reflection in the mirror, a dark shadow... yes, behind the curtain. "What the Hell!"
Turning slowly she reached for the shower curtain... a sharp, ear-splitting scream shattered the quiet... her scream echoing... heart palpitating, body shutting down... "Shit!" it's just more of Jimmy's antics. Self-consciously she glanced in the mirror as she pulled the shower curtain open!
Downstairs Miranda dropped her drink as she heard another blood curdling scream! "Jesus, she thought" this is too much as she looked around for Jimmy. The scream abruptly stopped! She walked over to the bar and said, "Goddamn! Give me a double right now!"
yeah yeah got the bitch in the shower got her thanks a lot love me little laugh a lot thanks a lot bitch like the rag on your face like the smell like the sleep bitch gotcha bitch thanks a lot
Solange woke up with a splitting headache. It was dark, but not quite. There were a couple of candles, incensed, strange smell. Like... like a dead animal! She shuddered and tried to look around. She couldn't turn her head... with the headache she couldn't figure out why. Behind her, a noise! Like mice running around the insulation in the attic floor... in front of her a rat – damn, it looked like a cat, but the teeth!
Cobwebs hanging down from the rafters. Something crawling – spiders?
Then, behind her, a cackling! A manic, eerie, skin crawling cackling. An insane Cackling!
Suddenly, in front of her face a knife! Shit! It looked like the knives they had downstairs for the props... like Norman Bate's butcher knife! A presence looming over her! One of the candles guttered out. The light from the other was dancing, shadows leaping, the knife...
yeah the knife yeah sharp cut cut me the knife damn bitch thanks a lot sharpened it yes again again again cut me over over blood dripping my blood yeah thanks a lot got the bitch now the knife the sharp knife yeah laugh at me she will will no more write with the knife I can I will yeah thanks a lot
The bartender was getting bored. Drunks were all the same whether it was a Halloween party or any other kind of party. He started pouring a pitcher of Margaritas into the salted glasses when a awful, eerie scream came from upstairs.
"Shit!" he exclaimed as he dropped the pitcher on the floor.
"Jerry, damn it! This is too much! Can't you turn that damn thing off?"
Jerry, his face white, stuttered "Bbbill Bill! I turned it off a few minutes ago! What the hell!"
The bartender looked at Jerry "Oh Shit!" and started running up the stairs as a final scream started and agonizingly died to a sickly wail!
Everyone in the bar followed them up to the second floor. At first they saw nothing, then noticed the door to the attic was partially open. Slowly, gingerly, they moved en mass up the stairs, a ghastly sobbing drawing them on. Reaching the top Jerry opened the attic door... and retched!
Tied to a riser was Solange. Weeping, crying, sobbing Solange! Blood dripping off her forehead, down her breasts, blood!
Faintly "Help! Help me! The knife! Oh, God! Him!" as she fainted. Gathering around they saw:
On her left breast "Thanks a lot!" obviously carved with the butcher knife lying on the floor of the attic.
On her right breast "Broke my heart!"
On her forehead "Laughed at me!"
On her left hand "You made me cry!"
On her right hand "I just needed your love!"
On her stomach "Honey thanks a lot!"
Blood dripping, dripping down her body! Red, thick, viscous, life draining from Solange!
Jerry, dizzy, sick, soul sick, retched and passed out!
Solange dripped, dripped slower and slower as her vital forces ceased!
yeah bitch yeah laugh at me laugh thanks a lot
Well, yeah! I guess there is a little of Norman Bates in all of us. But remember this is the season of Hallowed Eve, not the "season to be jolly!"
Laugh at me! Cuss me! But do give me your feedback and vote!