9/4/2k5 - Where the deer and the antelope work
At an old saloon on a street of mud Justin Famous eyed a young cowgirl who was quietly wilding away at a block of hickory with a 12’’ circular saw. Justin being an impulsive live in the moment kind of guy bellied up to her table.
“Care to dance.” There was no music. The girl didn’t respond but it was probably because of the intense whirling sound from her electric saw. Justin stood awkwardly until she had stopped sawing. She placed a somewhat decent figure of a bear on the table (of course she would have to tell you what it was and then you’d go “Ohhh, I see.”). She looked up for a second and made eye contact with our bumbling, butter-fingered, brethren.
Justin tipped his hat. He didn’t have a hat. “Hi, I’m Justin Famous.”
“I know” replied the girl in a down home, country cooking, good folks, hearty living sort of way. “You tried to bite me in the parking lot. Wait! You said your name was Justin Credible and that you were just trying to get back to Louisiana to see your wife and get to know your son?” Justin had apparently lapsed in or out of one of his many personalities within the past hour.
“Well miss, I have no idea what the heck you’re talking about. For the past few days I’ve just been in a very dark place with no sound or movement. It was cold there. So, so cold.” It seemed as though Justin was coming on a bit strong and revealing a little too much too soon, but within the hour he’d convinced her to go bowling and learned her name to be “Holly Hellyeah”.
We’d had a hypnotist teach all of Justin’s personas where he worked so that he’d never wander too far. So they stopped by the office to pick up the free passes he’d gotten at Upper Valley Lanes and Games after they served him a hot dog that made him hear colors.
“Well speak of the devil!” Announced Baxter Black upon Justin’s arrival. Justin immediately freaked out thinking that maybe the devil had once again possessed our couch cushion. Baxter Black countinued, “Look, I’ve got to go handle the Bennington swamp monster and I’m taking Hanz Irontheighs with me because his tank has four wheel drive. I need you to stop by the construction site on Goodrich Four Corners. We just got a call a little while back. It’s probably just some toxic zombies so bring some baking soda.”
“But we were going bowling and it’s my day off.” Whined Justin Famous.
“No it’s not. It’s my day off and I came in to cover for you because you wanted to go to Louisiana to see your wife and get to know your son.” Explained Baxter Black. “Anyhow just swing by and do the wash, we’ll rinse and dry in the morning.” Justin was confused by the job lingo that Baxter Black had probably just made up.
“But…” Baxter Black brushed by boldly.
“If ifs and buts were sugar and nuts, then I wouldn’t touch em’ because I’ve got allergies.” And with that Baxter Black was out the door. The sound of a woodchuck being run over by a panzer tank was heard as Justin and Holly decided what to do.
“So, you wanna go hunt some zombies?”
Later at the construction site on Goodrich Four Corners Justin explained that he’d be back in a jiffy and then they’d go bowling and maybe even spend some time in the lazer tag room. But Justin hadn’t stepped
two feet beyond the entrance to the site when suddenly he keeled over. Choked by invisible hands Justin was nearly incapacitated. The sound of tribal drums echoed through the half completed framework. A construction worker who had recently taken up the trade of zombie shambled over to the place where Justin lay and got him in a death hold with ease. Justin Famous had his wits about him however, and though he was nearly ready to pass out from asphyxiation, managed to deliver a well placed cobra maneuver and roll to his feet. He struggled to get back to the car. The drums beat harder. He felt cold hands grasp his back and turned around to see the zombie rear it’s head back to bite and then suddenly slump over.
Holly Hellyeah removed her drill from the blue collar zombie’s temple. She then pulled out a cigarette and threw the empty carton on the ground. The drums ceased. The invisible hands around Justin’s neck relented. The faint sound of crying was heard.
“Indian burial ground.” Said Holly in a sort of, gotta keep the family circle singing loud kind of way. “If ya just disrespect them enough they can’t use any of their gawtdang gobaleegook magik on ya. That’s why I always carry a copy of the Indian Removal Act of 1830 on me. They hate that.”
Power tools, zombie awareness, smoking, and good looks? What more could you want from a woman besides maybe a little less manifest destiny racial discrimination. With Holly Hellyeah on his side the night was not only going to be a breeze, but probably a whole lot of fun too.
They smoked a cigarette.
Then another.
Refreshed Justin Famous and Holly Hellyeah made quick work of the zombie menace in creative ways using concrete mixers, backhoes, and a jackhammer in a wheelbarrow. They then ventured upstairs to discover one hell of a big zombie. Clad in Carhart™ coveralls you could tell this zombie meant business. But Justin and Holly were dead set on making him pay his zombie union dues. That is if Justin Famous hadn’t suddenly lapsed into being Justin Spirational.
“Get lost Holly!” Said Justin rudely.
“What you’d say to me?” Replied Holly in a gravel in her gut and spit her eye kind of way.
“In a book!” Announced Justin with a chipper tone as he removed a book by Avi from his back pocket.
“What?” Holly was more then a bit confused. “Why are you carrying that around…” But before she could fully convey her dissatisfaction she was grappled by the Carhart monster. She attempted to gouge away at it with her power tools, but was unable to get the right angle or leverage for them to be effective.
“Come on Holly! I know you can do it.” Shouted Justin Spriational who was holding a meat cleaver, but apparently had no intentions of using it. “Remember fighting won’t solve anything.”
Holly fought with the zombie. Pushing off of a wall she managed to knock the creature over onto the floor near Justin. It quickly sunk it’s teeth into Justin’s calf. He let out a yelp and suddenly a fire returned to his eyes.
“I don’t like you just the way you.” Said an angered Justin Credible. With super human strength he unlatched the zombie from his leg, picked it over his head and threw into onto a nearby table saw. Holly dropped the blade into it’s forehead and it solved everything.
Holly whirled around uncertain of what persona Justin may have taken. A phycho path? A doofy, friendly guy? A motivational speaker? A professional wrestler? It was impossible to tell. But a frown slowly formed on the mad man’s face and a single tear fell from his eye.
Noticing the bite mark Holly chimed in. “Hey, maybe it’ll be okay. Not all zombie bites are 100% fatale right?”
Oblivious to the comment or even his wound Justin Famous bemoaned. “I have a wife and son? Who are they? Where are they? What’s going on? Why do I never know what’s going on?”
This story has been brought to you by Ralph B. Allison M.D. who has 24 years experience with dissociative patients and would like everyone to know that multiple personality disorders are sad, crippling, diseases that should not be made light of. For more information visit his website: www.dissociation.com
