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"Dealer an Urban Myth" by Redd

A short story based on real experiences but turned into a psychedelic tale of horror, full of imagery. A tale of violence and love and justice in a world of halucinogenic gangsters and bad drug deals.

Category: Short Story

Tags: Urban, biographical, horror, psychedelic, experimental, descriptive, drugs, gangster.

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DEALER (AN URBAN MYTH)

BY JONATHAN COTTAM

1st witness monster: this is so delicious, have you ever bitten into an apple that broke your teeth?

A little gun is such a prize to polish. The rewarding glimmer that appears like the pearly grin on some beautiful caressed woman. Christ smell that metallic perfume. Point it at myself and feel the betrayal.As though it was pointed through such a woman’s sure hands at me, that pearly grin the bright light spreading the explosion that brings the night.

What happens next is a veritable Kama Sutra as I imagine little red white and blue zeros on my intended targets in our various positions. I am on the floor pointing at his nuts, or , aiming with two hands or, rested on the elbow, or, casually pointed like a smirking afterthought, and them, hands in the air, hands protecting the face, hands to the genitals, various mimes of a clown in fact, but back to the Kama Sutra, standing attention, crouching, mouth wide to give my gun “o”, a man naked as hung meat, in fact hung from my gun after some sexual wrestling that ends with blowing a hole in the man’s stomach , that metal ***** stuck in there whilst smoky wisps Become pubic hairs on his big red muff. It’s that time of the month for him. Red is spraying in my mouth like a salty fountain of Turkish delights, which is strange, hell it don’t fire chocolates.

The bullets I load are potent and compact, like little exploding penises, but they are female too, they have the allure of hermaphrodites, because they contain the wishes and little pumping hearts of a beautiful woman. They revolve in their chamber’s like a quire of bats, rushing my ears, chewing them like harpies, the scream of a woman that I must Obey, this woman I must Obey, for love, seems like she talks to me through the gun. Hell were all fucked up more or less so why not? I’m fucked up more. This is the only thing I can do for her now. How did I get here?

How did I get here and who’s is that face? That face in the mirror. He wears that hat I bought like some old grey detective movie, perched their atop and the eyes like fish eyes chiselled into the sockets of a crazed laughing moon.

Guess that’s me. Guess I m fucked then. And if they guess I’m going to continue like the ultimate drug casualty they can guess again. I’m going to peel these dimps in the ashtray, crinkled and salty, like so many vinegary prawns, and then I’m going to smoke a joint, sit back and relax and tell my story.

I was dealing drugs from my flat on an urban estate, a basic place, central coffee table, full of drugs paraphernalia and a red carpet and chairs, so used as ashtrays this is more like a dessert scene. The days and months are flickering by, like a film you’re watching at four in the morning with one eye open. I’m selling a nine bar a week, except actually it’s mostly grass and I’m managing to smoke all the profits with my friends. Were doing gloves, bongs, buckets, hot knives, pipes, spliffs, king cones and anything else we can think of to smoke all the weed. I’m getting worse and worse but every ones high so they’re too sentimental to kill the goose walking around laying the good green *****, by telling him he’s fucked. No they’re much too sensitive for such an awful task.

Our days may be numbered any way because my greatest attribute to selling has gone. Star was my mate’s girlfriend and she used to help us sell by walking around the flat naked. Then one day there’s a knock on the door and their parents are there to take her home and back to school. Kieran just lets them in and were there with their precious daughter, me Jay and Jesus, covering her with shaving foam and whipping her naked body with belts all around the room, shaven muff and all. They were a little upset; parents are the worst police of all.

Soon I had to take a rest to recuperate and that’s where I met Helen on a psychiatric ward. We had many drunken nights and games of confession, even a variation on strip poker, but playing at pool, in which I got hustled down to my boxers.

I remember one moment when we came back from a drinking session and I just ended up stroking her face. It was like our hearts were squeezed out of blood and wrung with shock. It was the stillness of birds before flight. She dare not move except for heavy breathing. I dare not move apart from the frightened trembling and pale fingers caressing her face. I needed to adore, she needed adoration. I’ve embroidered every inch of her soul on my heart, and it’s the best embroidery of that kind I’ve ever known. It has unique pleasures. Fantastic intricacies.

She told me how she got in there. How her husband controlled her. In the end she refused him sex for three months as revenge. Then she cut her entire body with that razorblade and told him if he still wanted sex with her he could. So he did. Then he had heard committed.

“Well wouldn’t you” she asked. Hope I never find out. It set my imagination going. I thought that was mighty. A goddess/ succubus for the twenty first century. Maybe the patron saint of prostitutes on street corners. A laughing doll from hell. Pull her tampon string between her legs and she laughs at you for ever . Squirting blood in your eye. Goosed by a worm that then really turns into a worm the laughter haunting memories from birth, echoing through life right to being an old man tripping over his walking stick-He hears laughter. Such a man becomes a joke because he was once the victim of vampiric desire.

Anyway. This entire breakdown was not just due to a controlling husband, but the aftermath of a rape some years earlier. She and her friend had been hanging around with some rich criminal elements “big as London bouncers”. They had been plying them with Es and cruising in fast jags to nightclubs. One night they raped them high on Es. She never told. But what made me even angrier, angry with her too, is that one came back for more, he apologized and she went out with him because she was afraid. Now don’t think that’s weak, you just have to understand the mind of a woman.

I lost touch with her when I left hospital. I guess for some reason she didn’t have room for me in her new life and I had to accept that. We had sort of talked about it, about letting go if you love someone.

Well six months later and I’m in a daze of insanity. I have nothing to lose so I wanted to one last thing for her. I want to find those guys and cap them for defiling the most beautiful being that ever existed.

To which end I go down two avenues. First is that I start asking around for a gun. Now anyone can get you had gone so long as you don’t actually want one, then you find it’s all bluff. At least Jay took me seriously and actually tried. He never asked why either. Not all my contacts were so useless however and I was about to procure a shotgun.

The other avenue is I try to find those guys. To which end I hire a detective to first find Helen and ask her. The other way is I went to a woman police officer and asked to exchange information, to which she says “we can’t touch the big people and I can’t give you any information but if you know people who smoke cannabis we will give you twelve pound a time for information on them.”. Not very tempting really. But I got what I wanted after a fashion.

One thing was going through my mind. The wise words of a friend I was smoking with who was well connected. When I was really stoned like at this time. I would look at him and sort of model his face like pink clay with my eyes. A little here a little there and a lot under the eyes. I would always imagine him as some sort of plucked owl. Those big clever eyes and his mustache fluttering as he spoke like tail feathers. He said “it doesn’t matter how big at gangster you are. It just depends how crazy you are. One man with a gun who’s prepared to use it is as big as any gangsters because it only takes one shot and you’re dead. It all depends how far you’re prepared to go.”

So this winter’s night Id had to hock my records with my girlfriend Alex to buy a shitload of LSD and amphetamine for a party. No one in town could get the drugs except the sister of the local gangsters. Her flat is at the top of a high rise and some evil looking tattooed muscleman lets you in, in his vest, and he’s so male and hard your eyes bounce off him, and roll about on the floor like dice. When you’ve summoned yourself and picked them up you’ve only scored ones with him. But you get ones just for daring to go up there. Between that front door and the living room is a rather strategically placed balcony like the defenses of a castle and if there’s any trouble you could very well get thrown off that drawbridge and you would of had all the time you needed to figure out everywhere you went wrong in life before you hit the ground. I went in, chatted to the queen, got my drugs and I was fine, fine until I got back to my place already tripping and entering an incomprehensible and horrifying world.

Gangster witness: we were around at monsters packing guns and frightening his friends. At the same time this is supposed to be a party until the surprise, but everyone’s terrified, hence the bad trip Monsters already on, we thought it would make it worse. We brought Helen round to punish her, to show her what can happen to people who don’t keep their mouths shut. We didn’t want him knowing she was there so we waited until he was really tripping and we replaced Alex with Helen, we dressed her up the same, dreadlocks and an army Jacket. We poured petrol on him and all his’ good friends’ turn so pale you would think we drank their blood and all the good drugs in it and we were sort drinking off them. There’s a bearded hippie lying down on the sofa with a pillow over his head crying out “he’s my friend.” Helen starts crying too. There are three of us and four of them if you don’t include Helen and Monster. When the three of us grabbed him and poured petrol on him he was as pale and nervous as a rabbit in the snow, which is what he reminded me of when he had been walking back and forth with his footprints in the ash, he probably thought he was a rabbit, he wasn’t living in our reality, he didn’t know what was happening at all which is just as well. We threw a lit rag on him and he went up like a match. He was too high on LSD to know or care.

I like it when they go off like a match. You can just watch em whither down to a black skinny nothing. In your mind’s eye you can turn them-The match, upside down with your finger and thumb, hold em by the head tell their toes shrivel and curl.

The hippy rushes to him with the blanket off the couch and the other friends run into the bedroom and run out again following suit with the blankets. Monster was Knocked to the floor and they fall too. Then they all get off in and stand around staring at him.

There’s a pile of blankets shuffling on the floor, and I’m thinking,’ what new creature will emerge from this Chrysalis. Well he stands up screaming and the blankets are peeling with his skin and he shakes skin and blankets away like autumn leaves. But what rears up is no butterfly; he’s more like a very smoky caterpillar. He screamed “arhh” and everybody’s hearts leapt bleeding at once, except ours of course. Then he’s quiet. He looks at Helen/ Alex and he says in a screach “what’s going on Alex I keep thinking I’m burnt, I can feel it.”

Then he looks at Helen again and he recognizes her for the first time. He looks at his burnt hands then he goes “oh” and grabs her looking intently in her eyes. To be fair to him he must really of loved her because he was only thinking of her even though he knew he’d been burnt he say’s “let her go.” And I’m rather inclined to, but he doesn’t go on believing it. There’s doubt in his eyes like he’s only looking at Alex again, but he escorts her out of the living room to the front door in the hall and that’s the last we see of him.

Helens witness: “come with me.” Monster said. He was in the doorway; a pitiful sight. It was like my eyes were welded to him in the blaze, I had to scrape them off like fried eggs to look away from his red angry body. His eyes it seemed didn’t go out with the rest of him but carried the flames. The gangster leader Ray, the rapist Ray had just baptized his own nemesis, only Ray knew what name.

I started crying again. They had brought me to see this horror as a lesson in keeping my mouth shut. Monster was such a good soul. But a hopeless dreamer who drew no lines. Some things just can’t be done.But I believed the dream now. I could help someone that brave. Help him to help me which is all he wanted. And that look of self sacrifice and realization when he clutched me to protect me, to do anything for me, was all I ever wanted. So in that doorway unwatched, I opened my purse for and brought out my little .22 and pistol and gave it him to shaking, the thing trying to slip from my hand, sliding and cart wheeling, a little metal acrobat as alive and powerful as I felt.

I said “the man you want more than any other is at this address.” I told him the address in a whisper and repeated it three times, whirling in his ears like the wind blowing through the apartments. It sunk in, carrying him like quicksand. Then with all that LSD he was looking around for the cause of the wind again and he picked up a mop and left. I don’t know why he picked up the mop. I went back inside for my telling off.

The three young hooligan’s witness: Oh my it was funny. There was this guy out in the street. A burnt guy. Clothes and skin bits flapping in the wind. He had a mop in one hand and a gun in the other. There was this Great Dane wandering the streets and just poking around like some hairy beggar. The next thing is that burnt guy has hold of it and he’s trying to ride it. Really sitting on it. The dog just totters and barks. Sagging in the middle .Anyway he falls off on his ***** and the dog turned round and licked him like he was a bacon rasher. Which technically he was.-don’t forget the hat.-yeh the hat made us laugh, it’s wasn’t a Freddy Kruger hat but you get the picture. Like being transported into a movie. And I yelled out “What did yer do? Are yer some kinder pervert?”and my mate here says “Yeh he fucks Great Danes.” In which case he deserves it don’t he? The last I saw of him he walked off on a mission scuffing his shoes.

Monsters witness: reality was even more bent than usual. With the refractions from my rainbow gun. The rainbow blaster would take care of him. That or my javelin. If he really was a dragon I might need my magic javelin.My photo of Helen unfolded from my wallet in a shower of butterflies and arranged themselves in a living mosaic of Helens face and became my shield scattering and rearranging in a more fearsome aspect to scare any attacker. I had realized the flames were licking helplessly on my silver techno suit of armor. I could burn everything in my path, or control it with the suit dial, everything dripping orange like falling curtains of flame. I had to kill the rapist beast before his gang got back to his layer.

The suit of armor had a visor like a grill. The plume on the helmet was a flame that could be turned up like a rocket. It sort of moved you along, but you shuffled your feet to go faster, sort of a cross between skating on ice and riding an escalator.Im making ground put its slow, scraping my feet along the ground making sparks with my boots. The beast’s tower of glass and steel looms closer but it’s slow; I don’t know where I’d be without my rocket helmet.

I now saw my horse and mounted him. Time was of the essence. I galloped but everything stayed where it was. I was in a stasis spell. The beast had power. I rode faster but I could make no progress. Something crumbled underneath and my horse threw me. I did not get back on. I could make better progress with my rocket I got to the tower and I had no difficulty remembering the address of his lair. Helens whisper was going through my head like ticker tape threaded from ear to ear. I got in the lift which hardly moved. Then I was on the landing.

The door to the beast’s lair was reinforced with metal. But when I knocked he opened the door wide with a gothic creek. The beast was not what I expected. He was a man in a bathrobe. He looked calm but a bead of sweat rolled down his unfeasibly handsome face, past his drowning eyes that sucked me in and won my will, the sweat slid past his eye like a tear. I lift my shield and the look dissolves. He was a big man, he tried to slam the door on me but I was already in.

He tried to grab me, launching with arms outstretched and I moved to the side. I pointed the gun at his head and he stopped. His bathrobe was open and I could see scales beginning to form and lock together all up his chest his chest hairs sucked in and disappeared. When he laughed there were clouds of smoke and I could smell burning. I noticed his penis growing armor. Seconds later I was faced with a snarling dragon and jaws of ivory snaked forward and back snatching at my head. I speared him with my javelin to no effect on his hard scales, so I shot him with my rainbow blaster. There was a loud crack and a scream, the creature clutched its belly and fell. Blood between its human looking hands. I went into the kitchen and got a knife. I hacked off the dieing creatures ***** and it pissed blood from its new cunt. his face was almost human now and all pale and resigned like a crucified saint

I took the creature’s penis as a token for Helen, but as I walked back he became more and more human looking until it was nothing but deflated genitals.

Very slowly im getting my mind back, like scraping mud out of tired eyes. People tell me im burnt but I can’t see it never have, apart from that brief moment at my flat when I saw Helen in tears. I’m out of hospital and Helens coming to see me tomorrow, I know she can’t see it either. I’ve put his ***** in a bottle of vodka on one of my stereo speakers, when my stereos’ playing it bobs up and down like he wants one last *****.

One down three to go, and the clicking’s chewing my ears like harpies. I’ve tied strands of blond hair from Helen to my gun with an elastic band. Now it’s a little doll I take to bed with me. It’s not how big you are, it’s how crazy you are and im the ***** craziest!

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Category Name: My Thoughts

I did not enjoy this story. I am not even sure what problem the protagonist faced. This story was okay. The story would have been better if the author had introduced the problem differently and made it feel more pressing. I really enjoyed this story. The author did a good job pulling me into the story by introducing an immediate and important problem for the protagonist.

This section is for overall comments and general ideas. The score should reflect how much you enjoyed the story.

Category Name: Character Development

The characters were not dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable or unique. I don’t care about or understand the characters because they were poorly developed. The characters were somewhat dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I partially understood the thoughts, feelings, and actions of the characters. I somewhat connected with and care about the characters. The characters were very dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I thoroughly understood their thoughts, feelings and actions. I felt connected with and cared about the characters.

This is act of bringing a character to life on the page. It is a combination of the author’s description of the character and the character’s dialog, action, and thoughts. Though all characters should be believable, the protagonist and antagonist are usually the most developed characters.

Category Name: Plot

I finished reading the story so the plot must have unfolded, but I am not sure what the plot was. The characters did not achieve or grow by solving the problems they faced in this story. There were definite wrinkles in the way the plot unfolded leading to the final conflict. The plot was loosely tied to the achievement and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame some of the problems flowed unnaturally with the story. I could see the plot unfolding through a series of escalating problems that lead to the final conflict. The plot helped me understand the achievements and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame the problems flowed naturally with the st

In fiction a plot is all the events in a story, particularly rendered towards the achievement of some particular artistic or emotional effect. In other words it's what mostly happened in the story. The plot draws the reader into the character's lives and helps the reader understand the choices that the characters make.

Category Name: Dialog

The dialog seemed like cold words on paper. I had a hard time following it. I didn’t learn very much about the characters through the dialog. Through the dialog I could sometimes see the characters learn and grow while occasionally discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was generally consistent with the character. Through the dialog I could see the characters learn and grow while simultaneously discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was true to the character and it helped me understand the characters emotions.

Category Name: Setting

The setting created a haze in my mind that detracted from the story. I am lost in time and space because I don’t know when or where this story takes place. The setting was described adequately, but not well enough to bring it to life in my mind. The setting did not add to or detract from the story. I am pretty sure I know when and where the story takes place. The author engaged all of my senses while vividly describing the setting. The setting helped me better understand the setting and plot. I know when and where this story takes place.

The setting is where a story takes place. The choice of setting and its description helps the story come alive in the mind of the reader. Appropriate setting contributes to the plot and mood of the story.

Category Name: Mechanics

The story contained so many mechanical errors that it was hard to follow the plot or understand certain sentences or paragraphs. Occasional mechanical errors were distracting, but these errors did not inhibit me from being able to understand the plot or connect with characters in the story. I rarely if ever noticed mechanical errors. As far as I could tell, the writing was clear and correct.

Mechanics includes sentence structure, verb agreement, grammar, spelling, voice, punctuation and aspects of basic style.

Note: The purpose of ReviewFuse reviews is NOT to provide comprehensive copy editing, but rather to "ignite creativity." Reviewers should not feel obliged to point out every grammar or spelling error (though they certainly can if they wish), but should focus on this area only to the degree that errors make a story hard to follow or understand.

Inline comments are the most helpful and important aspects of your review.

Click on a paragraph or highlight text from the paragraph to provide inline comments. While detailed grammar correction is welcome, the purpose of inline commenting is to spark the author's creativity. This is best done by expressing feelings, questions, and concerns you have about the story while you are reading.

1. DEALER (AN URBAN MYTH)

2. BY JONATHAN COTTAM

3. 1st witness monster: this is so delicious, have you ever bitten into an apple that broke your teeth?

4. A little gun is such a prize to polish. The rewarding glimmer that appears like the pearly grin on some beautiful caressed woman. Christ smell that metallic perfume. Point it at myself and feel the betrayal.As though it was pointed through such a woman’s sure hands at me, that pearly grin the bright light spreading the explosion that brings the night.

5. What happens next is a veritable Kama Sutra as I imagine little red white and blue zeros on my intended targets in our various positions. I am on the floor pointing at his nuts, or , aiming with two hands or, rested on the elbow, or, casually pointed like a smirking afterthought, and them, hands in the air, hands protecting the face, hands to the genitals, various mimes of a clown in fact, but back to the Kama Sutra, standing attention, crouching, mouth wide to give my gun “o”, a man naked as hung meat, in fact hung from my gun after some sexual wrestling that ends with blowing a hole in the man’s stomach , that metal ***** stuck in there whilst smoky wisps Become pubic hairs on his big red muff. It’s that time of the month for him. Red is spraying in my mouth like a salty fountain of Turkish delights, which is strange, hell it don’t fire chocolates.

6. The bullets I load are potent and compact, like little exploding penises, but they are female too, they have the allure of hermaphrodites, because they contain the wishes and little pumping hearts of a beautiful woman. They revolve in their chamber’s like a quire of bats, rushing my ears, chewing them like harpies, the scream of a woman that I must Obey, this woman I must Obey, for love, seems like she talks to me through the gun. Hell were all fucked up more or less so why not? I’m fucked up more. This is the only thing I can do for her now. How did I get here?

7. How did I get here and who’s is that face? That face in the mirror. He wears that hat I bought like some old grey detective movie, perched their atop and the eyes like fish eyes chiselled into the sockets of a crazed laughing moon.

8. Guess that’s me. Guess I m fucked then. And if they guess I’m going to continue like the ultimate drug casualty they can guess again. I’m going to peel these dimps in the ashtray, crinkled and salty, like so many vinegary prawns, and then I’m going to smoke a joint, sit back and relax and tell my story.

9. I was dealing drugs from my flat on an urban estate, a basic place, central coffee table, full of drugs paraphernalia and a red carpet and chairs, so used as ashtrays this is more like a dessert scene. The days and months are flickering by, like a film you’re watching at four in the morning with one eye open. I’m selling a nine bar a week, except actually it’s mostly grass and I’m managing to smoke all the profits with my friends. Were doing gloves, bongs, buckets, hot knives, pipes, spliffs, king cones and anything else we can think of to smoke all the weed. I’m getting worse and worse but every ones high so they’re too sentimental to kill the goose walking around laying the good green *****, by telling him he’s fucked. No they’re much too sensitive for such an awful task.

10. Our days may be numbered any way because my greatest attribute to selling has gone. Star was my mate’s girlfriend and she used to help us sell by walking around the flat naked. Then one day there’s a knock on the door and their parents are there to take her home and back to school. Kieran just lets them in and were there with their precious daughter, me Jay and Jesus, covering her with shaving foam and whipping her naked body with belts all around the room, shaven muff and all. They were a little upset; parents are the worst police of all.

11. Soon I had to take a rest to recuperate and that’s where I met Helen on a psychiatric ward. We had many drunken nights and games of confession, even a variation on strip poker, but playing at pool, in which I got hustled down to my boxers.

12. I remember one moment when we came back from a drinking session and I just ended up stroking her face. It was like our hearts were squeezed out of blood and wrung with shock. It was the stillness of birds before flight. She dare not move except for heavy breathing. I dare not move apart from the frightened trembling and pale fingers caressing her face. I needed to adore, she needed adoration. I’ve embroidered every inch of her soul on my heart, and it’s the best embroidery of that kind I’ve ever known. It has unique pleasures. Fantastic intricacies.

13. She told me how she got in there. How her husband controlled her. In the end she refused him sex for three months as revenge. Then she cut her entire body with that razorblade and told him if he still wanted sex with her he could. So he did. Then he had heard committed.

14. “Well wouldn’t you” she asked. Hope I never find out. It set my imagination going. I thought that was mighty. A goddess/ succubus for the twenty first century. Maybe the patron saint of prostitutes on street corners. A laughing doll from hell. Pull her tampon string between her legs and she laughs at you for ever . Squirting blood in your eye. Goosed by a worm that then really turns into a worm the laughter haunting memories from birth, echoing through life right to being an old man tripping over his walking stick-He hears laughter. Such a man becomes a joke because he was once the victim of vampiric desire.

15. Anyway. This entire breakdown was not just due to a controlling husband, but the aftermath of a rape some years earlier. She and her friend had been hanging around with some rich criminal elements “big as London bouncers”. They had been plying them with Es and cruising in fast jags to nightclubs. One night they raped them high on Es. She never told. But what made me even angrier, angry with her too, is that one came back for more, he apologized and she went out with him because she was afraid. Now don’t think that’s weak, you just have to understand the mind of a woman.

16. I lost touch with her when I left hospital. I guess for some reason she didn’t have room for me in her new life and I had to accept that. We had sort of talked about it, about letting go if you love someone.

17. Well six months later and I’m in a daze of insanity. I have nothing to lose so I wanted to one last thing for her. I want to find those guys and cap them for defiling the most beautiful being that ever existed.

18. To which end I go down two avenues. First is that I start asking around for a gun. Now anyone can get you had gone so long as you don’t actually want one, then you find it’s all bluff. At least Jay took me seriously and actually tried. He never asked why either. Not all my contacts were so useless however and I was about to procure a shotgun.

19. The other avenue is I try to find those guys. To which end I hire a detective to first find Helen and ask her. The other way is I went to a woman police officer and asked to exchange information, to which she says “we can’t touch the big people and I can’t give you any information but if you know people who smoke cannabis we will give you twelve pound a time for information on them.”. Not very tempting really. But I got what I wanted after a fashion.

20. One thing was going through my mind. The wise words of a friend I was smoking with who was well connected. When I was really stoned like at this time. I would look at him and sort of model his face like pink clay with my eyes. A little here a little there and a lot under the eyes. I would always imagine him as some sort of plucked owl. Those big clever eyes and his mustache fluttering as he spoke like tail feathers. He said “it doesn’t matter how big at gangster you are. It just depends how crazy you are. One man with a gun who’s prepared to use it is as big as any gangsters because it only takes one shot and you’re dead. It all depends how far you’re prepared to go.”

21. So this winter’s night Id had to hock my records with my girlfriend Alex to buy a shitload of LSD and amphetamine for a party. No one in town could get the drugs except the sister of the local gangsters. Her flat is at the top of a high rise and some evil looking tattooed muscleman lets you in, in his vest, and he’s so male and hard your eyes bounce off him, and roll about on the floor like dice. When you’ve summoned yourself and picked them up you’ve only scored ones with him. But you get ones just for daring to go up there. Between that front door and the living room is a rather strategically placed balcony like the defenses of a castle and if there’s any trouble you could very well get thrown off that drawbridge and you would of had all the time you needed to figure out everywhere you went wrong in life before you hit the ground. I went in, chatted to the queen, got my drugs and I was fine, fine until I got back to my place already tripping and entering an incomprehensible and horrifying world.

22. Gangster witness: we were around at monsters packing guns and frightening his friends. At the same time this is supposed to be a party until the surprise, but everyone’s terrified, hence the bad trip Monsters already on, we thought it would make it worse. We brought Helen round to punish her, to show her what can happen to people who don’t keep their mouths shut. We didn’t want him knowing she was there so we waited until he was really tripping and we replaced Alex with Helen, we dressed her up the same, dreadlocks and an army Jacket. We poured petrol on him and all his’ good friends’ turn so pale you would think we drank their blood and all the good drugs in it and we were sort drinking off them. There’s a bearded hippie lying down on the sofa with a pillow over his head crying out “he’s my friend.” Helen starts crying too. There are three of us and four of them if you don’t include Helen and Monster. When the three of us grabbed him and poured petrol on him he was as pale and nervous as a rabbit in the snow, which is what he reminded me of when he had been walking back and forth with his footprints in the ash, he probably thought he was a rabbit, he wasn’t living in our reality, he didn’t know what was happening at all which is just as well. We threw a lit rag on him and he went up like a match. He was too high on LSD to know or care.

23. I like it when they go off like a match. You can just watch em whither down to a black skinny nothing. In your mind’s eye you can turn them-The match, upside down with your finger and thumb, hold em by the head tell their toes shrivel and curl.

24. The hippy rushes to him with the blanket off the couch and the other friends run into the bedroom and run out again following suit with the blankets. Monster was Knocked to the floor and they fall too. Then they all get off in and stand around staring at him.

25. There’s a pile of blankets shuffling on the floor, and I’m thinking,’ what new creature will emerge from this Chrysalis. Well he stands up screaming and the blankets are peeling with his skin and he shakes skin and blankets away like autumn leaves. But what rears up is no butterfly; he’s more like a very smoky caterpillar. He screamed “arhh” and everybody’s hearts leapt bleeding at once, except ours of course. Then he’s quiet. He looks at Helen/ Alex and he says in a screach “what’s going on Alex I keep thinking I’m burnt, I can feel it.”

26. Then he looks at Helen again and he recognizes her for the first time. He looks at his burnt hands then he goes “oh” and grabs her looking intently in her eyes. To be fair to him he must really of loved her because he was only thinking of her even though he knew he’d been burnt he say’s “let her go.” And I’m rather inclined to, but he doesn’t go on believing it. There’s doubt in his eyes like he’s only looking at Alex again, but he escorts her out of the living room to the front door in the hall and that’s the last we see of him.

27. Helens witness: “come with me.” Monster said. He was in the doorway; a pitiful sight. It was like my eyes were welded to him in the blaze, I had to scrape them off like fried eggs to look away from his red angry body. His eyes it seemed didn’t go out with the rest of him but carried the flames. The gangster leader Ray, the rapist Ray had just baptized his own nemesis, only Ray knew what name.

28. I started crying again. They had brought me to see this horror as a lesson in keeping my mouth shut. Monster was such a good soul. But a hopeless dreamer who drew no lines. Some things just can’t be done.But I believed the dream now. I could help someone that brave. Help him to help me which is all he wanted. And that look of self sacrifice and realization when he clutched me to protect me, to do anything for me, was all I ever wanted. So in that doorway unwatched, I opened my purse for and brought out my little .22 and pistol and gave it him to shaking, the thing trying to slip from my hand, sliding and cart wheeling, a little metal acrobat as alive and powerful as I felt.

29. I said “the man you want more than any other is at this address.” I told him the address in a whisper and repeated it three times, whirling in his ears like the wind blowing through the apartments. It sunk in, carrying him like quicksand. Then with all that LSD he was looking around for the cause of the wind again and he picked up a mop and left. I don’t know why he picked up the mop. I went back inside for my telling off.

30. The three young hooligan’s witness: Oh my it was funny. There was this guy out in the street. A burnt guy. Clothes and skin bits flapping in the wind. He had a mop in one hand and a gun in the other. There was this Great Dane wandering the streets and just poking around like some hairy beggar. The next thing is that burnt guy has hold of it and he’s trying to ride it. Really sitting on it. The dog just totters and barks. Sagging in the middle .Anyway he falls off on his ***** and the dog turned round and licked him like he was a bacon rasher. Which technically he was.-don’t forget the hat.-yeh the hat made us laugh, it’s wasn’t a Freddy Kruger hat but you get the picture. Like being transported into a movie. And I yelled out “What did yer do? Are yer some kinder pervert?”and my mate here says “Yeh he fucks Great Danes.” In which case he deserves it don’t he? The last I saw of him he walked off on a mission scuffing his shoes.

31. Monsters witness: reality was even more bent than usual. With the refractions from my rainbow gun. The rainbow blaster would take care of him. That or my javelin. If he really was a dragon I might need my magic javelin.My photo of Helen unfolded from my wallet in a shower of butterflies and arranged themselves in a living mosaic of Helens face and became my shield scattering and rearranging in a more fearsome aspect to scare any attacker. I had realized the flames were licking helplessly on my silver techno suit of armor. I could burn everything in my path, or control it with the suit dial, everything dripping orange like falling curtains of flame. I had to kill the rapist beast before his gang got back to his layer.

32. The suit of armor had a visor like a grill. The plume on the helmet was a flame that could be turned up like a rocket. It sort of moved you along, but you shuffled your feet to go faster, sort of a cross between skating on ice and riding an escalator.Im making ground put its slow, scraping my feet along the ground making sparks with my boots. The beast’s tower of glass and steel looms closer but it’s slow; I don’t know where I’d be without my rocket helmet.

33. I now saw my horse and mounted him. Time was of the essence. I galloped but everything stayed where it was. I was in a stasis spell. The beast had power. I rode faster but I could make no progress. Something crumbled underneath and my horse threw me. I did not get back on. I could make better progress with my rocket I got to the tower and I had no difficulty remembering the address of his lair. Helens whisper was going through my head like ticker tape threaded from ear to ear. I got in the lift which hardly moved. Then I was on the landing.

34. The door to the beast’s lair was reinforced with metal. But when I knocked he opened the door wide with a gothic creek. The beast was not what I expected. He was a man in a bathrobe. He looked calm but a bead of sweat rolled down his unfeasibly handsome face, past his drowning eyes that sucked me in and won my will, the sweat slid past his eye like a tear. I lift my shield and the look dissolves. He was a big man, he tried to slam the door on me but I was already in.

35. He tried to grab me, launching with arms outstretched and I moved to the side. I pointed the gun at his head and he stopped. His bathrobe was open and I could see scales beginning to form and lock together all up his chest his chest hairs sucked in and disappeared. When he laughed there were clouds of smoke and I could smell burning. I noticed his penis growing armor. Seconds later I was faced with a snarling dragon and jaws of ivory snaked forward and back snatching at my head. I speared him with my javelin to no effect on his hard scales, so I shot him with my rainbow blaster. There was a loud crack and a scream, the creature clutched its belly and fell. Blood between its human looking hands. I went into the kitchen and got a knife. I hacked off the dieing creatures ***** and it pissed blood from its new cunt. his face was almost human now and all pale and resigned like a crucified saint

36. I took the creature’s penis as a token for Helen, but as I walked back he became more and more human looking until it was nothing but deflated genitals.

37. Very slowly im getting my mind back, like scraping mud out of tired eyes. People tell me im burnt but I can’t see it never have, apart from that brief moment at my flat when I saw Helen in tears. I’m out of hospital and Helens coming to see me tomorrow, I know she can’t see it either. I’ve put his ***** in a bottle of vodka on one of my stereo speakers, when my stereos’ playing it bobs up and down like he wants one last *****.

38. One down three to go, and the clicking’s chewing my ears like harpies. I’ve tied strands of blond hair from Helen to my gun with an elastic band. Now it’s a little doll I take to bed with me. It’s not how big you are, it’s how crazy you are and im the ***** craziest!

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