Parasite

November 25, 2007 - 12am

[I have a lot of chunks and bits of stories floating around in mind, so I'm going to start posting story fragments here--and I do mean fragments. I have a few other pieces lying around that I'll post soon. However, actual complete stories will be rare, assuming I manage to complete any at all. Everything will be posted in the 'story fragments' category.

I don't know where this story came from or if it's going anywhere. I doubt you'll be surprised to learn I'm midway through a Stephen King book right now.]

He rose from the toilet, hitched his paints, and glared sullenly at his leavings: a thick black tarlike substance oozed from one piece of feces, and a sprinkling of bright red blood dripped down the sides of the bowl. They confirmed his suspicions: the black was old blood from high in the digestive tract, and the red was new blood from very near its end. The host was still fighting him and tearing itself apart in the process. He stared for a moment longer, then flushed.

Dammit, he thought angrily. I thought this one would last longer.

He opened the stall door and paused in front of the truck stop restroom’s mirrors. A gaunt, pale young man looked back at him through haunted, sunken eyes.

Shit. Hadn’t this one been a linebacker, or tight end, or quarterback, or some other damn thing a few months ago?

He tried to search the host’s memory, but the degrading brain returned only bleary, incoherent responses. This one had never stopped screaming, and he could still feel it feebly clawing at the edges of his mind. That would probably account for the steep decline in health since he assumed control.

Bitter, hateful, ancient memories taunted him.

It wasn’t always like this. They used to give themselves willingly and submit completely.

He pushed them out of mind and left the restroom. Staring at the floor to avoid the eyes of other travelers, he shuffled into the rest stop lobby and outdoors. He crunched through dirty brown snow to a stolen, rusted-out ‘89 Ford Festiva. The bitterly cold winter air stung his lungs, and he choked back one of the hacking fits that had started last week.

He plopped down behind the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition. The engine coughed, shuddered briefly, and died. Punching the dash split open his hand and the heater controls, but did little to help the engine start. He cursed for a while in the old tongue, then tried the key again. Pumping the gas pedal finally jerked the engine to life, and he slowly accelerated toward the on ramp.

Father, he thought. I’ll go see Father. He’ll know what to do. Father always knows what to do.

His broken, bleeding right hand dripped on the center divider. It was hard to shift without screaming. It didn’t matter, though. He’d have a new car and a new host soon enough.

Father would see to that.

Did you know… vol. 2

November 14, 2007 - 11pm
  • From June 2002 until his death in August 2005, Former President Bill Clinton was perpetually hounded by mobs of angry villagers carrying torches and pitchforks.
  • English Wolfhounds were originally bred to kill Irish peasants.
  • Guinea pig meat is considered a delicacy in many aboriginal cultures, due to its strong similarity in flavor and texture to human flesh.
  • Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead, was the inspiration for the character Chandler on Friends.
  • Contrary to popular belief, fireworks were not created by the Chinese in the 12th century. They were actually created by me, just last Tuesday. I totally still have some gunpowder in my basement if you want to go blow some shit up, dude.
  • It is widely believed that King Louis XVI of France was present at Elvis’s birth. However, this is obviously absurd. King Louis XVI was not resurrected by scientists until 1937, two full years after Elvis’s birth.
  • Judy Garland has been a celebrated gay icon for decades. However, no one outside of the gay community has ever been told why. The world’s top labs continue to research the issue.
  • Brown University recently added a major in Modern American Idiocy. Curriculum goals require a subscription to People magazine, a MySpace account, and at least three hours of daily viewing of MTV.
  • Four early drafts of the United State Constitution were rejected due to Thomas Jefferson’s gratuitous and frequently shocking use of profanity. Three of these revisions still exist, and are known collectively as the “King George III eats his own shit” papers.

Volume 1

My Hometown

November 4, 2007 - 9pm

Since blogging conversations with Mike seems to be in vogue lately…

A bit of a preface here: there was a guy in the class ahead of me that had sex with a cat. When Mike makes reference to “cat fucker,” he’s talking about that particular deviant.

I don’t think I really need to say it, but I don’t condone catfucking, cat-throwing, catshooting, or any of the disturbing things mentioned in this post.

Baron von Chickenpants: On a completely different note, I decided to kill myself.
Baron von Chickenpants: eventually, anyway.
Baron von Chickenpants: In 50-60 years, I’m going to off myself rather than rot in a nursing home.
Happy Pineapple: sort of like a cat?
Baron von Chickenpants: No, not like a cat.
Baron von Chickenpants: I can’t be swung into the air by my tail, then shot before I hit the ground.
Happy Pineapple: we have 50 to 60 years… I’m sure we’ll have the technology to simulate that by then.
Baron von Chickenpants: Let’s hope so.
Baron von Chickenpants: I actually knew a guy who did that.
Happy Pineapple: got a tail implanted?
Continue reading My Hometown…

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© Marc Teale 2008.