Chapter 5
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| "Oh my God! Where's Candace?" someone yelled in the midst of the chanting, sobbing, grunting. "Who cares?!" cried Tiki, still pinned on the filthy cinema floor. "Help get this hippopotamus-woman off of me!! Ewww! I think I'm lying on some vomit!" Just then, a stifled cry for help and the slamming of an emergency side-exit door was heard. Vashondra, always the level-headed one (for one had to be, with a beehive like that), decided this disturbance to their "girls' night out" had gone far enough. After comforting her friend Bitzy and warning her that her head may get wedged between her breasts if she insisted on crying on them like that, Vashondra shouted at the top of her alcohol inflammed throat, | |
| "Only Godzilla can save us now!" "Excuse me?" Bitzy stopped sobbing. Tiki would have said "What!" but she was too busy turning blue because she had a knee on her throat. "Shut up!" said the jiggling mound of flesh that had Tiki pinned to the sticky cinema floor. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Vashondra. "What I meant to say was: Eat lead, Gargantua!" Vashondra reached into her 3 foot high strawberry blond beehive and pulled out an uzie. Polly Plus-size screached and leaped of Tiki faster than Vashondra imagined a woman that size could and ran to the manager's office to demand her money back. Vashondra tucked the weapon back into her gravity defying do and she and Bitzy pulled Tiki, who was still gasping for air, off the floor. "C'mon, girls! Let's go get Candace!" Said Vashondra as she led them out the side exit door. | |
| The loudspeaker crackled before coming to life, "ATTENTION CINEMA PATRONS...We regretfully tell you that the remainder of this presentation has been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances. If anyone knows the identity of four miniskirted womyn who have brought contraband food into the theater or Redhaired Rasputin like man with a goatee, please come to the box office. You will be given unlimited popcorn for your troubles. AGAIN PLEASE EXCUSE THIS INTERUPTION AND PLEASE VACATE THE THEATER UNLESS YOU HAVE INFORMATION LEADING TO THE ARREST OF THE PERSONAGES WHO HAVE ABSCONDED WITH TODAYS RECEIPTS. | |
| "Unlimited popcorn!" yelled a large woman in the front row. "Give it to me! Give it to me now!!" She ran to the box office, but was trampled by other equally large people all running to the box office. "Please help me!" she screamed, but everybody was too busy rushing to the popcorn. "Where is my popcorn?" they demanded. The man there said: "Excuse me folks, but none of you look like you really need anymore popcorn. So unless you can tell me the names of these women, please clear out." Just then, a mysterious man walked up and said: "I know who they are." | |
| "Well?" said the effeminate young pimply faced manager impatiently. "Okay, the chick with the big hair is Vashondra Du Lunchenette. She drives a lime green convertable mustang. Then there's her best friend and side-kick Bitzy Bootleg. Her hair isn't quite as big as Vashondra's. Tiki Dinette is new to the gang but she doesn't have big hair, they all drink martinis. And then there is Candace, she's the newest addition so I don't know much about her. Can I have the popcorn now?" Meanwhile, Vashondra, Bitzy and Tiki had followed Candace and her captors out to the parking lot. The villains had forced Candace into an old black BMW and drove away. Vash, Bitz and Tiki jumped into Vash's mustang and sped after them. | |
| The manager let him into the inner sanctuary where popcorn was abundant. "What is your name my friend, and what do you know of these women?" the maanger asked gingerly. "I am the reincarnation of Jack Kerouac....you may use that appellation and the women are from the Symbionese Liberation Front. The behibe hairdo chick is the leader, formerly known as Mizmoon. Her partner is Camilla Hall who now calls herself Bitzy...I don't know the others, it could be Angela Atwood or even Patsy herself, where is the popcorn?" Officer Muldoon of the SFPD had arrived on the scene. He eyed the alleged snitch with suspicion as he tapped the spout of the diet coke machine. "Damn ther is never enough ice and it ain't like the olden days where they would give you a shot of rum to go with your coke," he lamented. "Let this fool go" Officer Muldoon ordered,"He's having acid flashbacks from the sixties and we don't want an ADA charge against us." | |
| "Hmmm...." Officer Muldoon thought to himself." "Contadictory yet corroborating evidence that a girl gang is on the loose." "Where there two managers who hd taken simultaneous depositions?" What was the common thread besides hair and popcorn?" He couldn't help but wonder if conjoined twins were somehow involved in this escapade. | |
| While the cops were keeping themselves busy doing nothing productive, poor Candace was knee-deep in noirish suspense in the back seat of a dinged up old car. Her captors had bound her arms and ankles, but fortunately hadn't gagged her mouth. Her kidnappers wore dark trench coats and hats with wide brims to hide their eyes. Still, Candace knew the leader of the thugs all too well; she had lived with him for 10 years before he faked his death to avoid back taxes. "Jefferson Francis Appleberry, you let me out of this car AT ONCE!!", she shouted. "Shhh! Candace, babe, you were always such a loud mouth," barked the leader. The other thugs chuckled after hearing the name Francis. "And it ain't Jefferson anymore. He's long dead. You're dealin' with Xavier de Taquerine now!" He sneered at his fellow kidnappers and told them to shut their traps and keep their eyes on the road. Candace rolled her green eyes and tossed her head back laughing, causing her strawberry blonde ringlets to bounce merrily. "Dear God, you were hiding out in Tijuana all this time? Too many tequilas must have made you come up with a name like that" "Well, Candy Appleberry ain't so grand itself, sugerplum", quipped Xavier. Candace frowned and struggled with her bindings. She sighed and said, "Ok, ok, XAVIER......so, why the hell did you come back from the dead for? Don't you know that I'm an independent woman now?? I've got a new life, new friends, a new wardrobe, and I definitely don't need you right now to come back and mess it all up again!" Xavier eyed her leather miniskirt and snickered. "Still lookin' good, honeycakes." He smacked his lips and casually lit a cigarette. He continued, " Well, I've come back for you because.... | |
| you know i need you for certain....um...purposes, shall we say?" Xavier watched the smoke from his cigarette waft through the stuffy air and out the window. "And what purposes would those be, pray thee please do tell?" Candace hissed. He looked at her, amused, as if she were no more than some toy conceived only for his entertainment. He reached out and pulled one of her ringlets and watched it bounce back and reverberate until it only moved with the car. "Those purposes," he grinned venomously, "will be revealed when I decide you need to be of service, as it were." His dark eyes gleamed at her, as she stared at him defiantly, her lower lip in a slight pout. | |
| Candace glanced at the rearview mirror and saw that Xavier's car was being tailed by a lime green convertible '65 mustang - Vashondra's car. Candace was greatly relieved to know that her friends were coming after her but she knew she could not let Xavier or his henchmen discover her secret. She tossed her bouncy hair and heaved a great bossomy sigh. "Oh, Jeff- I mean Xavier! Where did we go wrong? We were so right for each other, for a time, we had it all." Candace said, blinking her green doe eyes and pouting. Xavier was unaffected. "Well, Candy, I knew it was over when I came home that day and found you in bed with the milkman, the mailman, the UPS guy and my brother, Rahim." he said coolly. "oh, yes," Candace said, biting her lip. "I remember, you wandered around aimlessly, ranting nonsensically for days. You always were over sensitive, Jefferson." "XAVIER!" "Whatever." "Boss!" said the thug who was driving. "We're being followed." | |
| Xavier pulled a compact mirror out of his satchel. Pretending to check his mascara he got a make on the lime green mustang that was tailing. "It's the lesbo avengers" he sighed. "Thug", he ordered the driver, "Pull into the next carwash you see, I doubt if they can can get their top up in time. If we don't lose them there, find a smog emission testing station with a long line." Turning to Candy, Jefferson Xavier asked "Whom did you prefer? The men in blue, brown, white or me? After we ditch these bitches we are heading off for the zoo. You will have a full pan.....Oh shittttt". Xavier slumped in the seat, blood trickling from the back of his neck. Turning with a horrified smile, Candace saw Bitzy standing atop the faux leather seats of the mustang, arms straight with an antiquated 6-shot revolver still in her hand. | |
| She smiled smugly and tossed the revolver away. Candace looked helplessly at the expired Xavier and began to tremble; first with fear then with an overwhelming hatred. Candace pulled a nail file from Xavier's satchel and hurled it at Bitzy, who was just starting some kind of tirade. It hit Bitzy square in the right eye and she fell.. | |
| and landed right on her butt, bruising her tailbone in the worst way. "Ow, that hurrrrt!" Candace laughed, "I'm glad it hurt you two bit whore from hell." Bitzy looked shocked and hurt, not only from the protrusion in her eye and the bruised tailbone, but the insult as well. Candace, losing her mind for a moment due to all the needless trauma that surrounded her, picked up a golf club from in the trunk and hit Bitzy hard enough to send her a good hundred yards, give or take a few. Just then, Candace heard a sound from the car and noticed some movement from the direction of Xavier. | |
| Candace dropped the golf club and ran over to her dying ex. Her lips trembling, she could not hold back the tears any longer, and soon her mascara started to run. "Oh, Jeff! I didn't want it to end like this, please believe me. I...I've always thought we'd get back together again, someday, when you got your life together again." She cradled Xavier's bleeding head in her arms, and he looked up at her with sorrowful eyes. Barely audible, he whispered, "Don't you worry your pretty head, hon. I always knew fast women would be the end of me. And hey, at least one of us got our act together. But I'd watch out for those friends of yours, sweetie. I heard they....they...." He closed his eyes. "They what??," asked Candace. "Jefferson! Speak to me! What is it that you're trying to tell me??" He grimaced in pain and with his dying breath uttered, "It's...it's..." "It's what?" asked Candace hysterically. "It's... Xavier, not Jeff!" With those last words, Jefferson a.k.a. Xavier collapsed lifeless in Candace's arms. Candy blinked, sniffled, then sighed. "Damn," she said, wiping her eyes. "Damn you! Damn you cheap mascara!" Then she heard footsteps from behind and turned around to see who was approaching. | |
| Approaching her was her lover John Michael. He had come to see her on his lunch break and saw the whole perdicament. "Why is he laying there? I thought that we were going to have a threesome tonight. Now what do I do with all of the chocolate and Whip cream I bought? I was looking forward to some nice fudge packing." | |
| Vashondra Du Lunchenette reached into her 3 foot high strawberry blonde beehive hairdo, pulled out her uzie and tossed to Candace who quickly made short work of that bozo John Michael. Candace tossed the weapon back to Vashondra. "Thanks," she said. "I always knew you were my true friend." Candace stood up and wiped Jefferson/Xavier's blood off her hands then apologized to Bitzy for putting her eye out. "It's okay," Bitzy said, "That was my glass eye and I always carry a spare." Bitzy reached into her less fabulous beehive, pulled out a glass eye and replaced the one that Candace had destroyed. "See, all better." She said and Candace smiled. "Where's Tiki?" Vashondra said. "Ohmygod! Look!" Bitzy shouted. Xavier's thug chaufer had captured Tiki and was forcing into the car. "Uh! Not again!" Vashondra said shaking her head. | |
| From the corner of her eye Vashondra glimpsed a beat up BMW convertable stalled in the drive-in window of McDonalds. The driver had already ordered a supersize double quarter pounderd meal, but his passenger was balking at the thought of devouring any minced meat. Vashondra manuevered the lime green Mustang close enough so that she could holler over to Tiki. "You don't need to pork out on that Soylent, follow us back to the house." "I feel a change of life coming on," Vash hollered demurely,"Let's have something healthy like margaritas." Reaching into the beehive she produced a blender, six cocktail glasses, a pint of tequila, a miniature of triple sec, twelve plump strawberries and three limes. "Thug" Vashondra ordered "FETCH ICE, Comprende?" Candice looked relieved, at last they were going to party again and life would be good. Tiki, the thug and Candace danced the hully gully in the parking lot as Vash kept blenderizing. Bitzy tried to get into the spirit, in the back of her mind she was trying to remember what happened to Xavier. On a lark she wandered off from her friends, a spatula, half a jar of Hellman's mayonaise and an unopened sleeve of water biscuits in her backback. | |
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Settling in below the bumper of the last car at the last row of the lot, trying to make herself look at once small and inconspicuous and large, imposing (a girl can't be too careful these days), she set herself to work.
Bitzy was not a smart girl. She had never claimed to be. Which was probably a good move on her part, considering the blonde roots continued to show despite repeated dousings with Clairol's #43 (Golden reddish-brown, Clairol makes too much money to be creative with names these days). Still, she pondered what happened to Xavier. With the spatula extracted from her backpack, the jar of Hellman's mayo cracked open, and the water biscuits' cellophane disemboweled like the prey of a lion, Bitzy set to work. | |
| Within minutes, the mayonaise jar was empty, licked clean, and there was nothing left of the crackers but the crumbs that littered the front of Bitzy's pink cashmere sweater. Bitzy wiped her lips with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. She felt bloated and disgusting so she crawled to the curb and stuck her finger down her throat which sent partially digested water biscuits and mayonaise hurling into the gutter. She reached for the bottle of vodka in her beehive but it wasn't there. "Damn!" she said, remembering they had finished the last bottle and hadn't replaced it yet. She had to find a liquor store and fast. | |
| She ran down the street as fast as her flat feet could take her. But, alas, there were no liquor stores in sight. She soon spotted a corner pharmacy a few blocks over and decided it was better than nothing. She casually perused the aisles pretending to be a serious shopper, deeply contemplating hemorroidal cream expiration dates and comparing boxes of disposable enemas. But what she really wanted was some hard liquor. Almost giving up, she found herself near the shelves of dental hygiene products. Grabbing a bottle of green mouthwash, she read the label outloud: "SD-Alcohol 40. Must mean 40 proof! Hotdog!" She ran to the counter, threw exact change down on it, and ran out the door in triumph. Without another moment's hesitation, she popped open the child-proof cap and guzzled the mouthwash down. She made a funny face and smacked her lips. "That was weird. I'm sorta drunk, and my breath is oh so minty-fresh!" | |