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Tuesday, October 13, 2009

armed to the teeth with LIPSTICK:13.

by Blag Dahlia


CHAPTER 13: JESUS ON PROM NIGHT





They eyed me like a rabbit in a snake pit for about three New York seconds. Then the guy in the labcoat rushed up and whispered in my ear --

"I'm Sgt. Saltpeter. You must be my new lab assistant, you seem the scatalogical sort. Tell me, are you experienced in the gentle art of collecting stools from the homeless and criminal element?"

He whipped a smeared pamphlet from his pocket and shoved it under my nose.

"This is my magnum opus, Feces as Friend."

Now I'm not what you'd call squeamish, but I do have my limitations. And when it comes to scatology, I figure let 'em eat urinal cake.

"Can the potty talk, dicknose. The name's Doolan, hard and raw in regard to the law. I'd like to register an intergalactic missing harlot report."

Saltpeter's jaw went slack and he slumped back to his cubby hole looking dejected. I guess he wasn't very tough shit after all. I turned to the Lieutenant and his transvestite flunky.

"I'm looking for a little cream puff named Suzy-Q. She disappeared a couple light years ago and I'm hot on her trail."

No response. Just a pair of vacant eyes with skulls to match.

"I'm a cosmic greaser pig," I said, clutching at crazy straws, "maybe the last."

I pulled out my badge, the old VVK branded on a shiny brass pentagram. It didn't mean much on the red planet, and from the empty stares I was getting here it didn't look like it meant dookie in this neck of the woods either.

"You know anything about Vice, pal?"

Lt. Grizzle looked like a teddy bear with a thyroid problem, hair cropped close and folds of greasy flesh spilling out of a stained white t-shirt. When he opened his yap I could see the Black Hole of Calcutta. I figured an explanation was in order, but all of a sudden I felt the same epileptic rush I'd had that day when I blitzkreiged my office. Without consulting my grey matter my mouth tossed out this little gem--

"On Mars we've got Jesus in our corner on Prom Night. He's this real gone Tom Jones-type character who does shit like fukking two aryan girls simultaneously, and blindfolding them so they won't know they're sisters. But, in the end, they like it anyway, and one grows up rich and the other's good looking."

I could tell by their dazed expressions that I was losing them. Hell, I was losing myself. The speed down here was more potent than I realized. I gamely clamored on.

"Can't you true douche-bags savvy? I shit jelly beans and fukk a blue streak, and when I turn out the lights at night I hear the Third Man Theme like through a vibrating egg prism. I know it's kinda septica/spiritual and all, but where I come from a man's crank has to be in five-wheel drive or his Old Lady disappears in the Time/Spare Warp. I guess down here you call it love, but up there the Equalizer doesn't know the difference..."

I heard someone call last trip to Looneyville and the lights went out.



Click here for
CHAPTER 14: A PENTOTHAL ENEMA

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Archive of Stories
and Authors

Callum Leckie's
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J.R. Torina's
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J.R. Torina's
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Sean Padlo's
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Sean Padlo's
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Sean Padlo's exact whereabouts
are never able to be fully
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He's already been known
to haunt certain areas of
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Konstantine Paradias & Edward
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Konstantine Paradias's
SACRI-FEES

Konstantine Paradias is a writer by
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Romanian, German, Dutch and
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plays and anthologies. People tell him
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like, quit whenever he wants, man.
His work has been nominated
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Edward Morris's
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Edward Morris's
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Edward Morris is a 2011 nominee for
the Pushcart Prize in literature, has
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His short stories have been published
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Tim Fezz's
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Tim Fezz's
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waves and people's minds in the
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the FREEZINE and we hope
you are, too.

Daniel E. Lambert's
DEAD CLOWN AND MAGNET HEAD


Daniel E. Lambert teaches English
at California State University, Los
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He also teaches online Literature
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2012, An Island of Egrets and
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Phoenix's
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Phoenix has enjoyed writing since he
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Phoenix has written over sixty books,
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He hopes to inspire people with his
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Phoenix lives in Salt Lake City, Utah,
where he spends much of his time
reading books on science, philosophy,
and literature. He spends a good deal
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on new books. The Freezine of Fant-
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Discover Phoenix's books at his author
page on Amazon. Also check out his blog.

Adam Bolivar's
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Adam Bolivar's
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Adam Bolivar's
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Adam Bolivar is an expatriate Bostonian
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Sanford Meschkow's
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We welcome him here on the FREE-
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Owen R. Powell's
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Gene Stewart
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Daniel José Older's
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Paul Stuart's
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Rain Grave's
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Blag Dahlia's
armed to the teeth
with LIPSTICK


BLAG DAHLIA is a Rock Legend.
Singer, Songwriter, producer &
founder of the notorious DWARVES.
He has written two novels, ‘NINA’ and
‘ARMED to the TEETH with LIPSTICK’.


G. Alden Davis's
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G. Alden Davis wrote his first short story
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writing scholarship for the effort. Soon
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not enough, and left for art school. He was
awarded the Emeritus Fellowship along
with his BFA from Memphis College of Art
in '94, and entered the videogame industry
as a team leader and 3D artist. He has over
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is a Burningman participant of 14 years,
and he swings a mean sword in the SCA.
He's also the best friend I ever had. He
was taken away from us last year on Jan
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Together we were a fantastic duo, the
legendary Grub Bros. Our secret base
exists on a cross-hatched nexus between
the Year of the Dragon and Dark City.
Somewhere along the tectonic fault
lines of our electromagnetic gathering,
shades of us peel off from the coruscating
pillars and are dropped back into the mix.
The phrase "rest in peace" just bugs me.
I'd rather think that Greg Grub's inimitable
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another manifestation of light itself, a
purple shift shall we say into another
phase of our expanding universe. I
ask myself, is it wishful thinking?
Will we really shed our human skin
like a discarded chrysalis and emerge
shimmering on another wavelength
altogether--or even manifest right
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and that's all the stars in the universe
shrinking away into a withering heart
glittering and winking at us like
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sad and lonely songs fallen on deaf
eyes and ears blind to their colorful
emanations. My grub brother always
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in the middle of the night. The owls
led our way and the wilderness
transformed into a sanctuary.
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which continues being woven to
this very day. It's the same old
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someday and though it will be the far-
thest we can manage to tell our own
tale we may rest assured it will be
continued like one of the old pulp
serials by all our friends which survive
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Shae Sveniker's
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Nigel Strange's
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