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January 2006

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01/31/2006: "Curious details"

music: gamelan music
mood: wistful

I awoke to see myself laying naked on the floor. I didn't find this strange until I looked to my right, and
I saw David Lynch staring at me. We were at the same plane, so I looked at my prone form once more, and realized that it had no head.
"Sad, isn't it?" Mister Lynch said, and I sighed. "Well, that's justice for you."
"Justice?" I scoffed. "Two cops raped me and cut off my head. Where is the justice?"
"I am sorry, my friend," the Frenchman interjected, "but the police apprehended a dangerous criminal, and took the appropriate measures to affect his capture."
"He's right, Tom," Alanidondra said. "I thought my love could stop your killing spree, but I paid for my
romantic foolishness with my life."
I screamed. "Stop it," I told them. "You know, I could see these two wanting to lie to me, but I don't know why you'd say such a horrible thing, Alanidondra. I could never hurt you."
David Lynch said, "I could."
"And being French, I would also inflict the most exquisite agony on her beautiful body," was the Frenchman's boast, to which he added a brutish epigram: "A woman's pain is the most powerful aphrodisiac."
"Those pigs must've done you in," I said, but she began to cry and said nothing.
David Lynch said, "Don't believe us. Watch the film."
Suddenly the room went dark, and the wall directly in front of us became a movie screen. David Lynch and I were in the first scene. He laid on the ground drooling, while I kept kicking him in the gut. He was muttering something, maybe pleading for mercy, but I was relentless, and I kept up my assault until he was unconscious.
"I'll teach you to cop out on a session of film criticism," I said, and I left the room. Lynch twitched, then I returned with an axe. I raised it above my head, then I brought the blade down on David Lynch's neck. I picked up the head and laughed, then I set it down and left.
"Where'd you...?" I asked.
"Shhhhhh," they all said at once. The little movie cut to the Frenchman in his private office, sitting naked at his desk and calling me. "Come in Tom," and I meekly walked in, dressed in garish, mismatched clothes. "You look awful," he said.
"You said I should wear this," I complained.
He laughed. "You do whatever anyone tells you?"
"I do what you tell me," I said, and he laughed some more.
Then he grabbed his penis, and said, "You look like a damn queer. Suck me now."
I got on my knees, and I sucked his cock, while he cut my ugly clothes with a scissor. Finally, he came
in a big load of semen, which I swallowed, and then I stood. I waited for him to say something, then he
told me to pull my pants down to my ankles and walk outside. "Feel free to masturbate.," he added. I was rubbing my cock as I left the room. The Frenchman sat there, and listened as shouts were heard, then things breaking, and then my scream of pain.
"Someone threw something at me."
"If it is not fatal, then I don't want to hear about it."
I snapped. I took the sash for his robe, which laid nearby, and knotted it, then snuck up on him and strangled him. His resistance was futile. When life left him, I left the room, and returned with a machete.
With one stroke, I decapitated him. I picked up his head, and kissed his still warm lips.
"I didn't do that," I protested.
"Shut up, you monster," Alanidondra said.
The scene was now my bedroom, and Alanidondra and I were laying naked on the bed. I smiled as she fell asleep, then I calmly grabbed a pillow and smothered her. I got out of bed and left, then I came back with a saw. I sawed off her head, then went to sleep, snuggling up to her headless corpse.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, as they cut to me having sex with the cops, who pounded the crap out of me afterwards.
"We'll be right back for you," Joe said, and the two cops left me lying dazed on the floor. Then there was a sudden cut to a newspaper headline:
Wound Self-inflicted

"What? How the hell did I cut my own head off?" I asked.
"Just watch the movie, you perverted bastard," Alanidondra shrieked. On screen, I entered a room with a guillotine. I put my own head in place, and using huge shears I had with me, I cut the rope. My head fell in the basket, a wistful smile on my face.
"See," David Lynch said. "You did figure out a way."
"So how did my head end up here? How did I dispose of the bodies? Why would I kill any of you, and destroy any future I had?" were my first questions.
The Frenchman laughed. "We must wait for the sequel."
We laughed a hearty laugh, as the credits rolled.

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