Something happened to my last post. Let's try this again. Here’s Part Two of my #shortstory in time for Halloween. If you missed Part One, scroll down to read it It’s titled, Don’t Panic. Enjoy.
“Yeah, like a voodoo head or something. Her nose too. The sewing needle’s still attached. That alone would’ve killed her. The plastic bag was just an extra measure.”
“And you consider this a suicide?” asked the Chief.
“Yeah. The woman in the other room is her sister. She said the vic was recently diagnosed with schizophrenia so she called her every day. When she didn’t get an answer for 24 hours, she called the police. She IDed the body.”
The Chief ordered one of the officers, “Check the medicine cabinets. See what she was taking.” Turning back toward Sam, “What else?”
“No sign of forced entry. The door was locked and bolted from the inside. We can’t find any other fingerprints except for the vic’s. Also, no sign of a struggle. No sign of sexual assault.”
“Nope. We checked her e-mails too. Her sister thinks it was suicide.”
An officer strode over and handed the Chief a hand full of pill bottles.
The Chief examined the bottles. “No. No. Ah Ha! ”Holding up two bottles for Sam to see, “Olanzapine and fluoxetine! Commonly used for the treatment of schizophrenia. Both empty.”
“How’d you know that?” asked Sam.
“I just know things,” said the Chief, handing the bottles back to the uniformed officer. “Call the pharmacy and find out if she called in a subscription. But why go to all the trouble of sewing your mouth and nose shut? That had to be painful. Wouldn’t be easier just to overdose with pills?”
“But if she was hallucinating maybe she didn’t feel the pain.”
“Could be. Keep checking for clues that someone else was here.”
“Chief!” called an officer from the phone, “The pharmacy says she called in a refill four days ago but never picked it up.”
“Thanks.” Then half aloud, “She ran out of her meds.”
The Chief walked over and stood over the body to examine one of the dolls.
The doll looked at him and said, “What are you looking at, fat boy?”
The chief picked up the doll and put it into his coat pocket. Okay, don’t panic. The doctor said this might happen occasionally. It is just a hallucination. Forgot to take my meds this morning, that’s all.
Here’s another short story in time for Halloween. It’s a little long so I will post it in two parts. It’s titled, Don’t Panic. Here’s part one. Enjoy.
His shiny black eyes stared up at her from her lap as she admired his permanent red smile. Fingering his tiny overalls, she pictured the little ones' faces, pressed against the icy windowpanes, waiting for her to arrive with another basket of her homemade gifts. She put the last strand of hair was in place. As she inserted the needle to tie a knot, the doll lurched in her hand, and a high-pitched voice yelled, “That hurt!”
She stared at the doll squirming in her hand.
Okay, don’t panic, she thought. The doctor said this could happen. This is not real.
The doll grabbed the needle and stabbed her leg. She jumped up, dropping the doll to the floor. She watched in disbelief as the doll ran into her bedroom.
Well, I certainly felt that. She lifted up her dress and saw a small drop of blood where the needle stuck her. She touched her finger to the drop of blood and then put her finger into her mouth. It tastes like blood. I need to renew my prescriptions.
She walked toward the bedroom to get her jacket. She never saw the lamp cord strung ankle high across the doorway. Tripping and falling fell forward, she struck her head on the corner of her dresser and landed on the floor unconscious.
Twenty-four hours later.
Chief Williams flashed his badge at the officer at the door and walked inside. He saw detective Sam talking to a young woman in the living room. Sam looked up and came over to greet him.
“What have we got, Sam?” Chief Williams asked.
“I think we have a suicide, but you won’t believe it. Take a look and then let me explain.”
Sam gestured toward the bedroom and both men walked over to the door.
“Brace yourself!” said Sam. You ain’t seen no suicide like this.”
Chief Williams entered the room. On the floor was a young woman laying on her back. A plastic bag was over her head and tied around her neck with a lamp cord. One of her arms was tied by the wrist to a leg of the bed with a cord while the other arm was tied to the dresser. All around the body lay pint-sized homemade dolls.
The Chief looked at Sam, “She’s tied up.”
“I know Chief, but I have seen it before. She made a loop like a noose on one cord and tied it to the bed. Then when she was ready, she tied the other hand, lay down and slipped her wrist through the loop. Once pulled tight, she could not untie it. That way if she panicked, she could not chicken out. Check the knot on her right wrist. It’s a slip knot.”
Chief Williams bent down to exam the knot. Then he glanced over to the young woman’s face.
“Damn!” he exclaimed and stepped back.
“That’s the part I was warning you about,” said Sam.
“Are her lips sewn together?”
End of Part One.
You probably read this item in the news. It seems that the authorities in Beijing inspected 10,000 doves that were later released in a ceremony for China's National Day. They inspected the wings, legs and anus on each dove looking for dangerous materials liked bombs. The doves were then released at sunrise in Tiananmen Square on Oct. 1 holiday to celebrate the 65th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China. It is unclear if these were Chinese doves or foreign doves.
I’m not sure that violating 100,000 doves is a good idea. The doves will seek out those responsible and take revenge. As soon as the doves can find the cars of the government officials responsible, they will descend upon the cars and bury them in a ton of dove poop.
Everyone is buying pumpkins this time of year. I wrote this short story a couple of years ago as part of a contest. I thought you might enjoy it. The title is, Good Neighbors. It’s a little long so I will post it in two parts. Here is part one. Enjoy.
Weeks of obsessive tending and gentle turning ensured a blue ribbon next weekend for his biggest pumpkin. His chest puffed with impending pride as he fantasized about the envious stares of the other town folk, including that attractive, stuck-up woman next door, who always looked through him, not at him.
An easterly wind was starting as he watched the sky darken. The wind felt cool against his skin compared to the moist warm weather earlier that soaked him in sweat as he hoed around his pumpkin. As bright, painted leaves rained on his crop, he heard an infant's cry and turned his head toward the top of the hill. Under the old maple, his stuck-up neighbor was shielding a bundle from the wind, fumbling with her blouse. Probably trying to breast-feed the baby, he thought. He felt a little sorry for her; a single mother with an infant. He tried to be a good neighbor, but her stuck up attitude kept him at a distance. Maybe she did not trust men any more. He paid her no mind. He was single too and had his own problems.
He wondered what she was doing at the top of the hill but then recalled seeing her walking the narrow path to her girlfriend’s house about half a mile beyond his own house. His hat was torn from his head as the wind grew stronger. He looked at the distant clouds moving at a great speed toward him. The horizon was a solid wall of clouds that gave a greenish tint to the sky. He had seen enough to recognize the signs–tornado!
Looking back at the maple tree, he could see the mother had knelt down by the base to shelter her baby. Realizing that a tornado could tear the old tree apart in seconds, he shouted to warn her but his voice was drowned out in the strong wind. He ran to the top of the hill as fast as he could. When he reached her he shouted, “You can’t stay here. Too dangerous!” Half pulling, half jerking, he got her up with the baby.
“Where?” she yelled. The noise was as loud as the 7:20 freight train that passed through town every night without stopping.
He looked back at his house; too far! He looked at her house; even farther! He yelled back at her, “Come with me.” He cradled the baby in one arm and then led her by the other. If they could make to his pumpkin patch, and lie down behind his prize pumpkin, they just might have enough protection. Placing the baby as close to the pumpkin as possible, he had the mother shield it with her body as he covered her body with his.
The wind grew stronger and louder then it grew quiet again. Peering over the top of the pumpkin, he saw the tornado rise up into the clouds and pass overhead without doing any damage. They had been spared along with their houses. He looked over at his crop fields to see how much damage was done to the corn and saw a wall of hail the size of golf balls cutting through the corn as clean as a sickle, destroying everything in its path.
This is part two of a short script I wrote as a spoof of common #TV #detective shows. I reformatted it to make it a little shorter. I hope you get a laugh from it. If you missed the first part, scroll down.
MARTHA: Get in!
Chris gets into the car and Martha speeds off after Bill.
CHRIS: How did you get here so fast?
MARTHA: Special effects.
CHRIS: That’s a different outfit. What’s with the mini-skirt? You usually wear pantsuits.
MARTHA: The director wants to show off my legs.
CHRIS: Well, you look fantastic. How come your hair is perfect and now you have makeup on? Where did you find the time?
MARTHA: Look! Can we hold off on the interrogation until we catch this guy? You know damn well that we shot the hotel scene yesterday. Today is the car chase scene. Besides, my contract says I have to look good. The studio has to give me six close up headshots every episode.
CHRIS: Don’t lose him.
MARTHA: You always say that. I never lose them. Now go ahead and say the other word.
CHRIS: What other word?
MARTHA: You know damn well. Every car chase scene you say it.
SERIES OF SHOT—TYPICAL CAR CHASE SCENES
Cars skid around corners and run other cars off the road. More police cars join the chase. Finally, Bill’s car crashes—flipping over a dozen times and exploding in flames. Bill emerges unhurt with his hands up. The police are so ticked they shoot him anyway.
CHRIS: (removes Bill’s wallet) Let’s see who this guy really is. (opens wallet) His driver’s license says his name is Bill Smith.
MARTHA: What the...? Wait a minute.(takes out the hundred dollar bills and holds them up to the light) I guess the joke on me. These bills aren’t phony after all. My bad.
Chris takes out his service pistol and points it at Martha.
MARTHA: What are you doing? What’s going on?
CHRIS: Come on Martha. You have been around long enough to know that when the studio does not renew your contract, the writers write you out of the series. You contract expires next week.
MARTHA: Don’t do it, Chris. If we stick together, we can both get better contracts.
CHRIS: Too late. I already signed my new contract. I get a bedroom scene and eight close up headshots in every episode. Goodbye, Martha. It’s been great working with you.
MARTHA: Wait! The studio will never find a replacement for my character by next episode.
CHRIS: They have already. You remember that young woman that we hired as an intern two episodes ago?
MARTHA: You mean that 20 something with the silicone breasts?
CHRIS: Uh, yeah, that one. In the next episode she is promoted to detective first class and takes your place.
MARTHA: No! If you shoot me, I will never work with you again. Do you know what that means?
CHRIS: Sorry, Darling, but it’s in the script. I don’t have to know what it means.
Chris shoots Martha three times. He walks over to her body and shoots her in the head for good measure.
Here is a short script I wrote as a spoof of common TV detective shows. It’s a little long for a blog, so I’ll post it in two parts. I reformatted it to make it a little shorter. I hope you get a laugh from it.
Typical hotel bedroom. Man and woman in bed making love. The woman is on top. Camera shots from six different angles. Close up on MARTHA ANDREWS’ face.
Cut to front of hotel. CHRIS ANDREWS enters, walks through lobby, takes elevator to 44th floor, walks down hallway, stops at a room, takes out a set of burglary tools and picks the lock. Opens door and walks in.
MARTHA: Chris! Don’t you ever knock?
CHRIS: Martha! What is going on?
MARTHA: (jumping out of bed and pulling a sheet around herself) Don’t be stupid. You can see what is going on. Or can’t you remember?
CHRIS: Why, Martha? I love you. I will forgive you.
MARTHA: I love you too. I will always love you. I am just not in love with you.
CHRIS: What the hell does that mean?
MARTHA: I don’t know. It’s in the script. I just read the lines. I do not have to understand them.
CHRIS: Who is this guy?
MARTHA: Who? I’ll tell you who. It is a man who loves me. He loves me for who I am, not who he expects me to be. He loves me for myself. He is concerned about my emotional needs. He treats me with respect, not like some trophy wife.
CHRIS: No, I mean what is his name?
MARTHA: If you must know, he name is John.
BILL: Actually, my name is Bill. Bill Smith
CHRIS: Yeah, right.
MARTHA: Shut up Bill! Keep out of this. This is between my husband and me.
BILL: (getting out of bed) I didn’t realize you were married. Perhaps, I should go. (starts to get dressed)
MARTHA: No, stay. I’ll get rid of him.
BILL: I have to get back to work anyway.
CHRIS: Why him?
MARTHA: (starts to get dressed) He is twice the man you are.
CHRIS: That’s because he must weigh 500 pounds.
BILL: Please! I weigh 450 pounds and not a pound more.
CHRIS: How could you, Martha?
MARTHA: Well, I have to stay on top.
CHRIS: No, I mean how could you do this to me?
Martha gives Chris a quizzical look.
CHRIS: I am talking about our marriage. How could you do this to our marriage?
MARTHA: Oh. Come on! We have been married for two weeks. How long did you expect me to be faithful?
CHRIS: Longer than two weeks.
MARTHA: You should have said something.
BILL: Do the words, forsaking all others mean anything to you?
MARTHA: No. Should they?
CHRIS: They were part of our marriage vows.
MARTHA: Again, if it was in the script, I don’t have to know what it means.
BILL: How much do I owe you?
MARTHA: Two hundred. Same as last week.
BILL: Will I see you again?
MARTHA: Of course. Next week. Same time.
Bill hands Martha two one hundred dollar bills. They kiss.
BILL: See you next week.
Bill exits. Martha holds one of the bills up to the light.
MARTHA: Stop him! These bills are counterfeit!
Chris pulls out his gun and runs after Bill. He sees Bill get into an elevator but the doors close before he can stop it. Chris runs down 45 flights of stairs and exits in the basement. He then runs up one flight of stairs to the first floor. He searches the lobby frantically. He sees Bill outside getting into a car. He runs outside just as Martha pulls up in a corvette.