Chapter 4
| The Story | The Authors |
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Reaching deep into the hidden pocket inside of his leather biking jacket Mr Tickles pulled out the last two Dextroid capsules and pitched them into the sewer grate. "I've had enough of these freakin' hallucinations now to last me the rest of my life." Of course he didn't throw out the baggie of crystal meth or the tiny aluminum foil package of grade A Porky Pig blotter acid with them. He needed something for New Year's Eve. He picked up his gloves and glowered at Xena. Of all the goddam things he could hallucinate why did it have to be this leather clad Amazon. He'd had enough of her type in his circus days. The leather bikinis and the heaving cleft of buxom breasts squashed behind metal plates just left him cold. He for one always prefered to be on the other end of a whip. He snorted in disgust and turned to head up the stairs into Madam Stretch's parlor leaving the now translucent figure of Xena to evaporate or whatever it was that hallucinations do when you ignore them. unfortunately for Mr Tickles this didn't happen. | |
| By now Mr. Tickles was more than a little irritated. School had let out hours ago and he still hadn't had a morsel to eat. The Xena apparition was not about to be ignored. She appeared in the stairway before him. "Begone, wicked varletess!" Mr. Tickles hissed at her. His curse did the trick and she vanished forever, even from television and there was much rejoicing. He was about to continue up the stairs to Madam Stretch's massage parlor and den of evil when he was stopped by a familiar voice from behind him. He turned to see his long lost twin, Little Socco who was well-dressed and well-kemt, the exact opposite of Mr. Tickles. "What do you want?" Mr. Tickles growled at his brother. "I've come to save you from yourself, my evil twin. You're wicked ways will surely destroy you." Little Socco said with an angelic voice. "Well, that's my own goddamn business. Why don't you go get yourself laid, then we might have something to talk about." Mr. Tickles turned and headed up the stairs. | |
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Socco turned away from the departing figure of Mr Tickles to hide the bitter tears he was shedding for he knew that his dopelganger had turned away from the True Path of righteousness and was entering into a den of iniquity. He sat on the stoop and reflected briefly on the sad state of Mr Tickles tattered and rendered soul. He pondered on the dilema he faced and was filled with despair. How could he, Little Socco reach out to one so wicked and lead him to the light. Was there Hope to be found? "Perhaps", He thought to himself as hot emotional tears burned across his cheeks, "Mr Tickles is a soul beyond redemption and damned to live his wayward life of sin and horror until that fateful day of judgement comes and he is cast into the pit with the other lost souls." He, Mr Tickles, his brother and body double to spend eternity roasting on a flame licked spit . Cursing the life he led and screaming the agony of the damned. Socco shuddered and let loose a low moan at the thought. But his despair did not last long for he had the strength of his faith to guide him. There was hope for all people who walk the Righteous Path, some just need a bit more coaxing to find it. He would be that person for Mr Tickles. He would lead him to the light. With a gasp of new found goodwill and joy Socco turned his wee little eyes heavenward there on the street corner to let out a prayer for Mr Tickles deliverance from evil. A heavy leather handbag smashed across his forehead. "Pervert! Try to look up my skirt, will you!" and again the bag came crashing down. | |
| All at once through his cringing Socco heard a familiar voice cry out. The handbag hit the sidewalk with a sodden thump behind him, and Socco, though he scarce dared look beyond, could not help but notice the ring, snugly nestled on the fourth finger of that trembling hand. And then he knew all at once who it was. Marie had dropped several packages in her shock. "Is ... is that really you?" "Well, of course it is. Would anyone else be picking up your bags, instead of asking you why in blazes you were cracking his skull with your bag?" "Oh, Tickles, dear, how I've missed you! I heard you'd be in the city -- but -- I only could hope -- and I knew there wasn't a prayer of seeing you -- and it's as though -- Oh, how ever can I tell you how sorry I am?" Socco could not help taking one last jab at his twin, though he knew Marie would take it from him in blood later on. Or at least, she would take it from *one* of them. "You've no need to be sorry, my love. When I think how I acted... trying to be holier-than-*you*! How could anyone ever do that?" Marie blushed. "Why, Tickles, sweetie, you *do* say the dearest things... But whatever were you doing hunched on the street corner like that? I do say you *were* trying to peep at women, weren't you!" The big question. Why *had* he been kneeling on the sidewalk? Well, half a truth was as good as none. "Oh, it's my brother Socco. You know, the one who always walked in on us at the most, um, interesting moments? I told you he had a thing for you? Anyhow -- he fell in with that `church' group. The occult folks in the whitewashed building? Yeah. I talked with him -- oh, I don't know how long ago, it's all a blur to me -- and I was suddenly moved to utter a prayer for his soul. To think of him, my double, my doppelganger, spending all his eternity wallowing in Purgatorial filth... Oh! How terrible! But I don't suppose -- I mean, you'd have to be a twin to understand..." Marie would take it better if she thought he were the villain, mused Socco. "Would you -- would you pray for my brother? That he may be brought back to the Way of Righteousness?" |
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