all the way live #8
the doktor howled with electricity from the passenger seat and cursed the babymaker of the chick who gave him the flyer. “if we ever get there,” he hissed through speed-clamped teeth, “she’s gettin’ it. POW!” as if on cue, the car lurched back onto the narrow two-way that wrapped around the side of the mountain. we had been traveling for hours, following a crudely drawn map in hopes of finding…who knows? it was too late to be trivial anyway, you understand…we had loaded up and headed off…soon - with a little bit of luck - we would be arriving, and all the hillbillies in Appalachia be damned.
thanks to the help of a full-blown police escort, complete with flashing lights, sirens, and ‘chemical billy’ samples, we arrived in style and fashionably late. the joint was hidden in a mist of fog and a clutch of trees, perched precariously on the top of a mountain. or perhaps it was a stinking pile of trash and medical waste…no matter. whatever it was, the place seemed to be packed. there were cars, trucks, limos, buses, cabs, buggies, twisted piles of metal, and a rickshaw or two strewn about the lots and streets adjacent to the club. on the sidewalk in front of the club, between a fire hydrant and a handicapped spot, was a coal black 70’s Caddy, blood red interior, with a death’s head for an ornament.
“the fuck is a Cipher?”
“huh? what do you want from me?”
“on the plate…it says Cipher.”
“who does?”
“nevermind…the license plate, you asshole. aren’t you a ‘writer?’ shouldn’t you know what that means?”
“who’s a writer?”
“listen st. clair…i’m going in here to find that girl and punch her in the babymaker for the directions she gave. after that, she’s taking me around back for a mic check.”
“oh Christ…”
“don’t get all religious on me now. so when we get inside, act like we don’t know each other.”
“the usual?”
“right…we can cause more damage that way.”
“agreed…after you, you twisted fuck.”
i took an empty seat at the bar…”whiskey, please”…try and find sunshine in a bottle. Texas and Ohio State was on the tube with no sound. i drank alone, in silence, trapped in this foul pit of blackness.
perhaps an hour after arriving, a strange fellow appeared next to me…i thought i heard him order something along the lines of hot lamb’s blood and tequila, but it could have been other things speaking. “name’s Lou,” he said, and extended a gnarled hand, grimey, and smeared with dried blood. “what did you get on the game?”
“one and a half.”
“ha ha…looks like we got it in the bag, my man. Ohio State at home? three minutes left and a six point lead? we shall celebrate tonight, my friend.”
“fuck off…i got Texas.”
“oh, well, sorry to hear that.”
“don’t be…i’m about to get rich!”
“you think? a friendly wager perhaps?”
“whatever dude…a hundred bucks says Texas wins.”
“but of course…and what’s your name, my son. the strangest thing, but i can’t seem to place you…”
he said he’d been around these parts for a long time. nice enough fellow, i suppose, but his feet smelled like someone had lit some matchsticks. the game returned from commercial, and the Texas QB promptly proceeded to hit the wideout for a score. extra point put the Texans up by one.
“pay up sucker.”
“CURSES!!! THREATS!!! INVOCATIONS!!!” he bellowed and slammed a greasy paw onto the bar. “listen, St. Clair,” he spit, “why don’t we raise the stakes?”
“double or nothing on the over-under? i’m down. no way it’s going over 49.”
“easy…why don’t we make it more interesting?”
“hey man, i’m no homo…no disrespect…but if that’s what you’re looking for, then…”
“SILENCE…”
“what?”
“i…i…ok…how about the cars, then?”
“what about them?”
“we bet the pink slips. take your key off the ring. we’ll find someone safe to hang onto them. i got Ohio State with one-and-a-half…”
“what? i don’t think so…that means you’re winning!”
“what’s wrong? scared?”
“alright…point-and-a-half.”
“you fool…”
“which car is yours?” i asked
“the black Cadillac out front. maybe you’ve seen it?”
“indeed…here’s my key. it belongs to the Porsche out back.”
“a Porsche…my, my…i didn’t know there was one in the lot…”
“yeah look real close, it’s there…who should we get to hold the keys? i don’t know anyone in this hellhole.”
“ah, my son, i know them all…except that one. he, too, i cannot place.” Lou nodded towards the stage area. i was so enraptured with the game and the alcohol that i had completely forgotten about the doktor. he had obviously made himself at home…it seems he had knocked out the singer and was yelling into the mic without any pants on, wildly swinging a bottle of Wild Turkey above his head. the crowd was seething and a riot seemed imminent.
“hey, he’s perfect,” i said.
“fine by you? he seems a little unstable. do you think…”
“nonsense,” i said, “what’s a matter, Lou? you scared?”
“very well then…i will summon him at once.”
“yeah get on that, and then get back here and watch your ass lose.”
he did. the doktor took both keys and promptly swallowed them, returning in a blaze to the dance floor and his place on the mic. it was finally time to get down to business. they way i figured it, the worst thing that could happen is that i would lose my raging scrap heap of a vehicle and the doktor and i could either commandeer a vehicle or hitch a ride back with one of his new found “friends.”
Lou returned just in time for Ohio’s possession on first down…their quarterback scrambled and a Texas linebacker knocked the ball loose. a Texas defensive end recovered with 2:19 to go, and Texas used up all but the last 25 seconds.
“looks like you’re going down, St. Clair.”
“it certainly appears so.”
“sorry about your luck, mr. St. Clair…you know, it’s as they say, if it weren’t for bad luck…”
“yeah…sure…just keeping watching there, fruitcake…there’s still time left.”
and indeed there was. with nineteen seconds to go, a linebacker from Texas sacked the shit out of the Ohio State quarterback in the end zone.
“that’s two more points, Lou. looks like you owe me.”
“indeed it does…how about another wager?”
“naw man…i gotta get up early.”
“what’s the matter, scared?”
“alright, what’s the bet?”
“how much money is in the cash register?”
“what do you mean? hold this place up? that’s not a bad idea…you know what, you might be alright after all…listen, if we take what they got behind the counter, plus the cash and jewelry from all the motherfuckers in here…”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, YOU FOOL!”
“what?”
“i mean the money…in the register…how much do you think is in there?”
“uh, how much do i think is in there? shit man…a little less than three hundred dollars…no no…$337.37. why?”
Lou rubbed his fingers together and a knot of bills appeared trailing thin wisps of white smoke. he sniffed it. “seems like a little more than $660.”
instantly, the girl behind the bar popped the drawer open on the register and shrieked, called for the bouncer. she cackled, “where the fuck is the money again!” and i stood aghast…tried to shake the scene loose…wrap my head around the event…struggling to make sense of it all…slackjawed.
“don’t worry, St. Clair…i think you could learn to like it here,” he said, “we got booze and speed, hot sex and greed…everything you need. you want pills, girls, grass? come on, i show you good time…this place has everything. come on…i show you. i promise. now don’t go anywhere, my son, i’ll be right back.” he got up and moved to a back room.
i stumbled onto the dance floor and elbowed my way to the stage, seizing the doktor by the shirt and wrapping the mic chord around his neck.
“where did you take me?”
he gurgled and slobbered until i loosened the grip around his neck. “fuck man!”
“WHERE ARE WE? we need to get out of here before we’re found out.”
“what are you talking about?”
“you’re lucky i’m a man of the cloth…i think i had an advantage over him. listen, we don’t have much time, get the keys and let’s go!”
“they’re in my stom…”
i nailed him right in his rotten guts and he spewed bile all over the floor…two shiny key appeared in the muck.
“grab those keys and let’s get the fuck outta here…you drive,” i said, “i’ve a lot of things to sort out.”
“but what about the band, man?”
“fuck ‘em…bring the midget though, he can drive my old ride. and for fuck’s sake put on some pants.”
thanks to the help of a full-blown police escort, complete with flashing lights, sirens, and ‘chemical billy’ samples, we arrived in style and fashionably late. the joint was hidden in a mist of fog and a clutch of trees, perched precariously on the top of a mountain. or perhaps it was a stinking pile of trash and medical waste…no matter. whatever it was, the place seemed to be packed. there were cars, trucks, limos, buses, cabs, buggies, twisted piles of metal, and a rickshaw or two strewn about the lots and streets adjacent to the club. on the sidewalk in front of the club, between a fire hydrant and a handicapped spot, was a coal black 70’s Caddy, blood red interior, with a death’s head for an ornament.
“the fuck is a Cipher?”
“huh? what do you want from me?”
“on the plate…it says Cipher.”
“who does?”
“nevermind…the license plate, you asshole. aren’t you a ‘writer?’ shouldn’t you know what that means?”
“who’s a writer?”
“listen st. clair…i’m going in here to find that girl and punch her in the babymaker for the directions she gave. after that, she’s taking me around back for a mic check.”
“oh Christ…”
“don’t get all religious on me now. so when we get inside, act like we don’t know each other.”
“the usual?”
“right…we can cause more damage that way.”
“agreed…after you, you twisted fuck.”
i took an empty seat at the bar…”whiskey, please”…try and find sunshine in a bottle. Texas and Ohio State was on the tube with no sound. i drank alone, in silence, trapped in this foul pit of blackness.
perhaps an hour after arriving, a strange fellow appeared next to me…i thought i heard him order something along the lines of hot lamb’s blood and tequila, but it could have been other things speaking. “name’s Lou,” he said, and extended a gnarled hand, grimey, and smeared with dried blood. “what did you get on the game?”
“one and a half.”
“ha ha…looks like we got it in the bag, my man. Ohio State at home? three minutes left and a six point lead? we shall celebrate tonight, my friend.”
“fuck off…i got Texas.”
“oh, well, sorry to hear that.”
“don’t be…i’m about to get rich!”
“you think? a friendly wager perhaps?”
“whatever dude…a hundred bucks says Texas wins.”
“but of course…and what’s your name, my son. the strangest thing, but i can’t seem to place you…”
he said he’d been around these parts for a long time. nice enough fellow, i suppose, but his feet smelled like someone had lit some matchsticks. the game returned from commercial, and the Texas QB promptly proceeded to hit the wideout for a score. extra point put the Texans up by one.
“pay up sucker.”
“CURSES!!! THREATS!!! INVOCATIONS!!!” he bellowed and slammed a greasy paw onto the bar. “listen, St. Clair,” he spit, “why don’t we raise the stakes?”
“double or nothing on the over-under? i’m down. no way it’s going over 49.”
“easy…why don’t we make it more interesting?”
“hey man, i’m no homo…no disrespect…but if that’s what you’re looking for, then…”
“SILENCE…”
“what?”
“i…i…ok…how about the cars, then?”
“what about them?”
“we bet the pink slips. take your key off the ring. we’ll find someone safe to hang onto them. i got Ohio State with one-and-a-half…”
“what? i don’t think so…that means you’re winning!”
“what’s wrong? scared?”
“alright…point-and-a-half.”
“you fool…”
“which car is yours?” i asked
“the black Cadillac out front. maybe you’ve seen it?”
“indeed…here’s my key. it belongs to the Porsche out back.”
“a Porsche…my, my…i didn’t know there was one in the lot…”
“yeah look real close, it’s there…who should we get to hold the keys? i don’t know anyone in this hellhole.”
“ah, my son, i know them all…except that one. he, too, i cannot place.” Lou nodded towards the stage area. i was so enraptured with the game and the alcohol that i had completely forgotten about the doktor. he had obviously made himself at home…it seems he had knocked out the singer and was yelling into the mic without any pants on, wildly swinging a bottle of Wild Turkey above his head. the crowd was seething and a riot seemed imminent.
“hey, he’s perfect,” i said.
“fine by you? he seems a little unstable. do you think…”
“nonsense,” i said, “what’s a matter, Lou? you scared?”
“very well then…i will summon him at once.”
“yeah get on that, and then get back here and watch your ass lose.”
he did. the doktor took both keys and promptly swallowed them, returning in a blaze to the dance floor and his place on the mic. it was finally time to get down to business. they way i figured it, the worst thing that could happen is that i would lose my raging scrap heap of a vehicle and the doktor and i could either commandeer a vehicle or hitch a ride back with one of his new found “friends.”
Lou returned just in time for Ohio’s possession on first down…their quarterback scrambled and a Texas linebacker knocked the ball loose. a Texas defensive end recovered with 2:19 to go, and Texas used up all but the last 25 seconds.
“looks like you’re going down, St. Clair.”
“it certainly appears so.”
“sorry about your luck, mr. St. Clair…you know, it’s as they say, if it weren’t for bad luck…”
“yeah…sure…just keeping watching there, fruitcake…there’s still time left.”
and indeed there was. with nineteen seconds to go, a linebacker from Texas sacked the shit out of the Ohio State quarterback in the end zone.
“that’s two more points, Lou. looks like you owe me.”
“indeed it does…how about another wager?”
“naw man…i gotta get up early.”
“what’s the matter, scared?”
“alright, what’s the bet?”
“how much money is in the cash register?”
“what do you mean? hold this place up? that’s not a bad idea…you know what, you might be alright after all…listen, if we take what they got behind the counter, plus the cash and jewelry from all the motherfuckers in here…”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, YOU FOOL!”
“what?”
“i mean the money…in the register…how much do you think is in there?”
“uh, how much do i think is in there? shit man…a little less than three hundred dollars…no no…$337.37. why?”
Lou rubbed his fingers together and a knot of bills appeared trailing thin wisps of white smoke. he sniffed it. “seems like a little more than $660.”
instantly, the girl behind the bar popped the drawer open on the register and shrieked, called for the bouncer. she cackled, “where the fuck is the money again!” and i stood aghast…tried to shake the scene loose…wrap my head around the event…struggling to make sense of it all…slackjawed.
“don’t worry, St. Clair…i think you could learn to like it here,” he said, “we got booze and speed, hot sex and greed…everything you need. you want pills, girls, grass? come on, i show you good time…this place has everything. come on…i show you. i promise. now don’t go anywhere, my son, i’ll be right back.” he got up and moved to a back room.
i stumbled onto the dance floor and elbowed my way to the stage, seizing the doktor by the shirt and wrapping the mic chord around his neck.
“where did you take me?”
he gurgled and slobbered until i loosened the grip around his neck. “fuck man!”
“WHERE ARE WE? we need to get out of here before we’re found out.”
“what are you talking about?”
“you’re lucky i’m a man of the cloth…i think i had an advantage over him. listen, we don’t have much time, get the keys and let’s go!”
“they’re in my stom…”
i nailed him right in his rotten guts and he spewed bile all over the floor…two shiny key appeared in the muck.
“grab those keys and let’s get the fuck outta here…you drive,” i said, “i’ve a lot of things to sort out.”
“but what about the band, man?”
“fuck ‘em…bring the midget though, he can drive my old ride. and for fuck’s sake put on some pants.”
Johnny St. Clair wuz here at 11:58 PM
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