September 30, 2015 Leave a comment Go to comments

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By Brian Schropp

By Brian Schropp

So there I was, dressed pretty as a picture in a pink dress with makeup on. Scott’s Grandmother was leading me around the trailers (in their traditional Eastern Lankville ‘F’ formation) to where Scott’s Dad (Daddy) was being held. My knees were shaking in the adorable white stockings with rose prints I was wearing. Supposedly these were the actual stockings Daddy’s sister had been buried in (exhumed to help me play the part of the dead woman. I could hear the rantings and ravings of Daddy before we even reached his trailer.

“I sure hope the loon tells you where that infernal birthday cake is,” Scott’s Grandmother was muttering while twirling around the gun she held on me not so long ago. “Sure looked like a damn fine cake.”

We were in front of the trailer door far sooner than I had hoped. I was shaking all over now, the screams were a mere trailer wall away. I’ve dealt with some loonies in my time (one is even running for President currently) but this one seemed on a whole new level.

Scott’s Grandma was making last minute adjustments to my makeup while trying to calm me down. “Now just go in there and try not to talk too much. Hopefully in his crazed state he won’t question your voice. Be direct as possible and just try to find out where Ma’s cake is. I’m hoping with just the shock of seeing ‘his sister’ he will blurt it out. Once you get that answer, you get out as quick as possible and lock the door behind you. We don’t need him running loose again.”

After a few deep breaths, Scott’s Grandma unlocked the door and slowly opened it.

Scott's Dad (Daddy).

Scott’s Dad (Daddy).

“Daddy-Daddy? We brought someone to talk to you. Just calm down, now. It’s your dead sister—.”

There was an eerie silence coming from the trailer, a complete contrast to the madness a few seconds ago. Grandma nodded her head and I slowly crept past her. “Now just be direct and find out about that cake.” With a slap on my butt she closed the door behind me.

Daddy was across the room in a corner by the window, his hands were tied behind his back and he was breathing heavily. The man’s eyes were red with tears which glistened off his cheeks but for the moment his face was the picture of calm. “Thelma? Is that really you?”

I smiled sweetly, giving a little wave.

“Talk to me girl. Why did you come back from the dead again? Why are you here?”

I giggled a little before speaking. “I was hopin’ you could tell me where that birthday cake might be hidin’. The family is sure pitchin’ a fit about it.”

His eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t sound like you Thelma.”

I had to think quick on my feet. “Well I’ve been dead for so long. Bein’ buried in the ground changes you.”

“Step out more in the light so I can see ya.”

I stepped out a little more and gave a quick twirl, giggling again. “See, just plain ol’ me!!”

“You’re still a beautiful sweet thing even after all this time.” He paused and nodded over to the corner opposite of him. “See that over there? That hot dog costume was your favorite thing to wear. Remember when we got it at ‘Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Park’? Now if that’s really you Thelma you will go on over there and put it on.”

I walked over, dusted off the costume and even though it was a few sizes too small I squeezed myself into it. My stunning cosmetic face popped out of the front. “See Daddy it’s really me.”

His face grew even calmer. For a few seconds I thought this kooky scheme might actually work. Then the rage quickly filled his eyes and spread to his face, finally causing his body to jerk up and tug madly at the bonds which held him. “YOU AIN’T MY SISTER!! YOU’RE JUST THAT DAMN FOOL BOY WHO WORKS WITH SCOTT!!”

With the rage of a thousand Dr. Nickelbee’s he rushed at me. And yes my life did flash before my eyes, I honestly thought this was the end. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that save you, this time it was a nail sticking just enough out of the floor. Daddy in his mad dash tripped right over it and with no hands to brace the fall he smacked the floor hard, knocking himself out.

Not sure what to do, I did my best making myself comfortable in the awkward suit until he woke up. Daddy wasn’t out for too long. He lifted his head up and with the look of a great philosophical master said to me, “You got part bumpkin in ya’, I can tell.”

I nodded my head. I could plainly see the madness was at least temporarily knocked out of him. Now if I didn’t have a heart I would just get the info on the cake and leave. But I knew Scott cared for his dad even if he didn’t really show it so if I could get to the root of the problem maybe I could help. “Why did you steal your wife’s birthday cake in the first place?”

The tears began to flow again. “That woman–that damn woman don’t deserve no cake. Nor do I deserve anything anymore. The way our son disgraced us, our family’s honor, the shame upon us. We will be laughed out of this hill before long, We were a family which was feared in these parts until—until…”

“The Floating Baby Pizza Cult,” I said softly.

“To be unknowingly involved in something so awful is disgrace enough but now my boy had to really screw it up!! He done gone and laid with that witch woman who was—-”

I couldn’t even say it for him, it was that awful.

Daddy jumped up yelling a roar only a member of Scott’s family could do. He hopped around howling before kicking a table of guns behind him. “SHE WAS BALD, THAT DAMN WITCH WOMAN WAS BALD!!”

So very true, Lizzie Starlight who turned out to be a High Priestess for the cult was completely and utterly bald (and I KNEW IT from the first day I saw her). It’s a very old code that stands in these hills of Eastern Lankville but still holds true even today. If a man unknowingly beds a woman who is bald it brings instant shame to that house which will never be forgiven.

Scott's Mom with her birthday cake.

Scott’s Mom with her birthday cake.

Daddy collapsed on the floor and rolled around with the unending pain. After a moment he looked at me. “Tell that damn family of mine I will just be crazy for a few more days, I feel it almost gone from me. Tell grandma to leave some water and an open can of ‘Lankville O’s’ inside the door. And if they really want to celebrate that woman’s birthday, well, then the cake is in the fourth rusted truck in the field.”

I left Daddy to his madness. Crossing the field in my hot dog suit and makeup, I reflected on how Daddy’s disappointment in his son almost reflected my own Dad’s dismay with me. Hopefully, if Scott survived his fight against the cult maybe this could bring us closer again.

Well, Scott’s Mom was over the moon when I brought the cake in. I was glad I could make her day and give this now damned family at least a little bit of enjoyment.

How would you, dear reader, imagine any festive occasion with Scott’s family turning out? Yes, of courses, it was soon a chaotic mess. Scott’s Mom decided she didn’t want to share any of her cake since it was missing for so long. The yelling and throwing of trailer items was soon replaced with guns drawn between Scott’s Mom, Scott’s Grandmother and Scott’s Sister. I quickly slipped out with ‘my outfit’ still on (the women had refused to give me back my clothes). The sun was setting fast over the hills and I somehow had to get home wearing this mess!!

Until next time dear readers, keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas.

Happy Eating!!-Bri

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