A Walking Dead Man Tale
Late
afternoon bit Pumpkin like a mangy dog, leaving him quivering with agitation
as he stared out at the wilted leaves falling in the wood lot. Autumn made him
feel crumpled and dead like the rest of the city. It was a season he hated and a
time when he needed regular fixes to feel alive again.
Halloween always came around the corner as his
biggest fix. The bewitched day was really the only good thing about fall. It
was also the reason he'd been nicknamed Pumpkin. On all other days he existed as
the watcher and the voyeur, yet on Halloween he became the doer. Rubber worms in
the candy apples, puke pills in the orange kisses, firecrackers in the doorways,
obscene messages sprayed on the courthouse windows, LSD in the prom punch, paint
bombs and spikes on the highway, burning hay on the tracks, firing blanks at the
suckers near the mall while dressed as the Reaper. Pumpkin had pulled just about
every mean prank going, and he’d never been caught.
This year he’d settle for nothing less than the
spectacular. Something grand that would get him remembered as more than an aging
smart-ass wearing orange clothes half of the time. More than a pathetic fool
needing quick stunts to even get noticed.
He did have a plan in motion, and he grinned at the
thought. Getting up he went over to his computer. "Time to check my e-mail, and
see if Marvin bought the bait," he muttered.
Knocking the mouse he watched the screen light up and
he grinned when he saw the tiny e-mail jack-o-lantern waving a Jolly Roger.
--------
To: pumpkin@interlog.com
From: coolmarvin@screwview.com
Yo Pumpkin! Hear at ScrewView web we pay close attention to the groovy ideas of
our top subscribers. Youre idea to web broadcast a Halloween orgy is a great
one. Consider it on - beginnin at 9 p.m. on the bewitched evening. Start page
for this live webcam video extravaganza is screwview.com/hallofilm.htm And we
have more then 3000 paying viewers lined up for a show with ten full camera
angles.
We'd appreciate any donations for costumes and setup as this is on short notice.
Contact me immediately if you know any partners who can help.
* Life is just a bowl of cherries, waiting to get popped.
(Cool Marvin)
-------------
To: coolmarvin@screwview.com
From: pumpkin@interlog.com
Cool! Cool! Cool! Marvin. I can help with costumes and stuff. Not just money
wise. I mean, I have the real stuff. A friend of mine has a costume store and I
can twist his arm for a lot of costumes and black webbing and rubber bats and
stuff. Believe it or not I also have a pumpkin patch at my house so I can bring
some pumpkins. As you should recall I also live in Toronto. So get back to me as
to when I can drop a vanload of the stuff out to you people at the screwview
penthouse.
* Just livin’ on the pussy's cutting edge.
(Pumpkin)
--------
An orange explosion marked the end of sunset in the
west. Standing by the chain link fence
Pumpkin watched as twilight blue filtered into the mist trails down in the
valley. A line of cops in navy uniforms poked through the tall weeds by the
watercourse there. They'd been combing through the area for about a week,
looking for clues on a bedroom rapist who used those tunnels and gullies as an
escape route. Personally Pumpkin hoped they would corner the guy and blast his
head off. The jerk just had no right to commit crimes like that without filming
them for everyone else to see.
As the cops faded into the mist, he perceived them as
little toy men locked inside a small bubble of right and wrong. Another bubble
of petty desire contained the rampaging rapist. And perhaps the darkening sky
was the biggest bubble - sealing everyone in Toronto in a prison.
If gods lived they were voyeurs, Pumpkin was sure of
that. Because you never saw them but they were always there like evil
jack-o-lanterns looking through the glass at people and their follies. They
could shake the whole world like a bauble, and play the biggest prank of all by
snowing down shit on everyone.
They'd rained shit on Pumpkin's life since he was a
kid. Some of it was sexual abuse crap he wanted to forget but often couldn't.
And now that he was remembering it, the gods were making him mad.
Sudden fury filled him and he turned away from the
fence. Powering up his Greenwood chainsaw he eased the spinning blade forward
and leaned into the trunk of a dying pine.
Vibrations shook his arms as the blade bit in deep
and spat sawdust. The resistance jarred his bones and pulsed in his blood and
brain. And it soothed him, causing his anger to fade and the disturbed feeling
to vanish. It was the black magic of the chainsaw; it cut down trees and bad
moods, leaving a neat pile of brush and logs.
Odors of fresh cut wood filled the cool autumn air.
Pumpkin inhaled deeply, feeling a sort of relaxed euphoria as he crunched
through the leaves and sawdust to the pumpkin patch. Pausing there he studied
his prize and aging melons. He patted a giant then his eyes went to the smaller
ones that would soon be wearing Halloween faces. "Wonderful, wonderful things
they'll see," he thought. Then he turned and went up the steps to the porch. It
was time to drive over to Marvin's penthouse and lay the final plans.
--------
Leaves blew on the back alley wind and scratched
Pumpkin like some dead fingers of the
darkness and the season. He watched grimly as Marvin's lackeys unloaded the van
of its Halloween fare.
For a moment he stared up at the bright lights of the
penthouse. Then he felt Marvin tap him on the shoulder.
"It's heaven up there," Marvin said, his eyes like
glowing like a cat's. "And whenever the action begins we seal the stairwells.
Only one elevator for access. There's no way the police can raid us if we shut
it down, and we got enough of them paid off, so a raid's not likely anyway."
Pumpkin pulled a tiny orange orb from his pocket. It
had the face of a jack-o-lantern. He handed it silently to Marvin.
"What's this?" Marvin said.
"It's a high definition web cam that looks like a
pumpkin. I packed a few of them in with the decorations. I figure you can use
them in place of the plain ones for better atmosphere."
"Man, you thought of everything. Don't worry; you'll
get your reward when my big black rod goes into action on some blonds. Just
e-mail me a rap sheet. What you want to see. I'll pass it to the young ladies."
--------
Pumpkin waited as the autumn days passed.
They were slow and dark like the smoke of bonfires
and they seemed endless. When Halloween did finally come he could feel the
orange flames, burning in a jack-o-lantern in his brain.
In the early evening costumed children, their parents
and all of the cute stuff fluttered by like cartoon bats as he impatiently
walked the streets. And it was only as the clock neared 9 p.m. that he came
alive.
Marvin also came to life at nine sharp and a web view
appeared of a cavern-like penthouse and a lot of painted women, dressed mostly
in leather and black netting. Marvin did his introduction wearing only a lion
cloth and jewelry. His black skin gleamed with oil and if he wore a shit eater's
grin it was probably because he would eat shit if a subscriber paid him to do
it.
The cameras also revealed two naked blonde women
necking on the rug behind him. Other camera angles revealed more opening action.
Screwview.com liked to give the impression of 24-hr sex at the penthouse.
"Tonight the forces of Halloween witchcraft have
possessed us and we're having a party," Marvin said. He spread his arms
dramatically and was about to continue when a loud rattle and bang caused him to
jump.
Paneling suddenly slid open behind him revealing an
elevator and a man in an orange Halloween costume. Marvin glanced back and saw
the man's skull mask and shopping bag and since it was only Pumpkin and not the
cops, he turned back to the cameras. "Welcome to our big Halloween Screw at
screwview.com," he said, and then he signaled for the action to begin.
And as he did, Pumpkin pulled his rigged chainsaw
from his shopping bag, powered it up as he stepped forward, and planted the
whirring chains between Marvin's shoulder blades.
It cut through before Marvin could scream; though his
expression became one of surprise as blood spurted out of his mouth. A moment
later the blade and flying gore emerged from Marvin's chest. Then Pumpkin yanked
it back out and shouldered the collapsing body aside.
Screaming began as the corpse thumped to the rug.
Pumpkin pulled off his mask and spoke above the noise. "Everybody's screwed,
just like Marvin said," he announced. "Plus the title's been changed to
Pumpkin's Halloween Chainsaw Massacre."
With the stairwells sealed and the elevator out of
order, only those who jumped to their death escaped the magic of the chainsaw.
Pumpkin's face remained white and calm amid the storm of flying blood. He felt
the vibrations lifting him, relaxing him with euphoria, just like when he cut a
pine.
The End.
