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Monday, May 26, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 23

George takes his boot and places it on Chris’ forehead. He rocks Chris’ head back and forth.

“Dead, I’m tellin you.” Bill says leaning over the body. A half an inch of ash clings to his cigarette.

Bill raises his face back up to George and yells.

“This is your mess!”

“How the fuck is this my mess?” George hisses back at Bill through clenched teeth.

Taking a step forward Bill flicks the ash of his cigarette on the floor. Then he places both hands on his hips.

“Girl, if you didn’t hire these hooker boys at the Water Works Pub, then we wouldn’t be in this mess were in!”

“Mess?” George recoils, stunned.

“Correction!”

Bill screams placing one finger in Georges face for dramatic purposes.

“Your mess that you are in, I am not in this goddamned mess, nor will I ever be in a goddamned mess with you ever again!”

“How is this my mess?” George screams taking a step back from Chris.

I now realize that I am watching an ex lovers spat, while a dead body lies on the floor between them.

That’s when in the distance we all hear the siren. Panicked, this predicament turns into an episode of The Three Stooges. Bill and George bounce off of each other, I pivot in place as if trying to run, while I scan the room for something to help us out of this mess. I’m not sure what I am looking for.

Bill starts whimpering something about “Dead, not here, gotta go!” while George is muttering directions to everyone.

That’s when Chris coughs.

We all stop moving and look at Chris.

“Damn, that bitch is alive!” Screams Bill

The siren wails louder.

George and Bill bend forward and grab Chris by the arms. As they yank him up to standing, Chris’ head falls backwards and hangs there.

“Get him out of the house!” George bellows.

Leading the way, I run up the basement steps.  George and Bill are half carrying/ half dragging Chris up the stairs. His feet thump each step as we ascend. 

Now George and Bill have begun dragging Chris up the stairs.

“Thump, thump, thump!”

Chris starts to moan.

“He’s waking up!” Bill Screams.

Bills bathrobe has opened. He is wearing large old man box shorts with vertical stripes.

Chris begins to yell. It starts as a low guttural primal scream that begins to build in velocity.


To be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 22

Chris just lies there. 

George is speaking quickly into the receiver. He is still on the phone with the police dispatcher.

Hmmmmmmmm? I think to myself.

And, the police are going to do what, when they arrive and find Chris dead, with George and me standing over him?

I look around the room. It reminds me of a bunker. One you would see on the movie of the week. The one where the mad scientist takes boys to his room to eat, watch films and to torture them?

Remember that movie?

Looking around, I can see that the room is stacked from floor to ceiling with books, food, clothing and has a full wall with nothing but S&M gear. Masks, whips, chains and a rubber police uniform hang clearly in spots that were outlined just for them.

Cleaning the room? Can’t remember where you found that dildo? Put it back on the wall within it’s own chalk outline.

Your Cat of nine tails? It hangs to the left, under those tit clamps.


A giant television set sits directly across from what looks like a King Sized bed. On the matching night tables, sit several ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts.

“You heard what happened, you heard how he attacked me, here, in my house?” George screams directly into the phone before looking over at me. “My room mate is a witness!”

Suddenly in my mind, I can see the pictures that the police officers took when they broke into Serial Killer Ed Gein’s house. You know the one who dug up his mother, wore hers and certain other assorted corpse skins? Well, it looks like George’s room.

Except we have a freshly dead body on the floor and a wall of S&M gear.

George hangs up the phone and crosses the room to Chris.

“Get up!” George mutters nudging Chris with his boot. “Get up!”

Chris doesn’t move

“He looks dead!” “He looks dead!” comes Bills shrill voice from behind me. I turn and see Bill on the stairs. His white bathrobe is draped over his arms. One hand sits on his hips; the other hand holds a smoking cigarette. He is bending slightly forward so he can get a better view.

Bill descends the staircase as if he is a character on Dynasty. One hand clutches the railing while the smoking hand has delicately lifted the hem of his robe. Clearly, you don’t want to trip and fall down the stairs when you find a dead body.

And on Dynasty, they were always finding a dead body, or an illegitimate child. They found ways to deal with it. I’m sure that was Bill’s survival training, various episodes of Dynasty. That and the various hooker drunk junkies that George would bring home on a semi-monthly basis, to have them disappear.

It occurs to me that maybe Bill has buried a lot of bodies. He seems to be handling this too well.


to be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 21

I walk through the kitchen; everything is just where I left it.  There is a white plastic bag on the counter. I peek inside. I can see two Styrofoam containers and I can smell breakfast.

“How Sweet,” I think again.

It looks like George has brought home breakfast for Chris. I quietly bet two bucks that someone will end up throwing it.

I stand at the top of the stairs. I can hear things crashing, things being thrown and Chris sobbing and pleading.

I slide down the basement stairs, keeping my back to the wall. From the second landing I can see that Georges bedroom door is open.

“Crash!” out fly’s a box of videocassette tapes.

I quickly peek my head around the corner into George’s room.

“I have an unwanted guest in my house and I need the police.” screams George into the receiver.

Chris is in full freak out mode. He is red in the face and it looks like he has soiled his underwear. Too me he looks like a terrified animal that has been cornered. I feel sorry for him.

Chris keeps running at George who with one hand flips him away like a rag doll. Every time Chris gets pushed away he bounces back and tries to pounce on George. With his other hand, George is covering the mouthpiece on the phone. It’s as if he is embarrassed that the police will hear what is going on and needs to keep up appearances with his neighbors.

A thin string of saliva hangs from Chris’ nose and has attached itself to his chin. He is blubbering. Chris makes another dash at George. This time George stops him by punching him dead in the face. There is a “crunching sound” as Chris’ head flies back. A spatter of blood hits the door and lands on my shirt.

“You!” “You!” Chris begins screaming at me, when he sees whose feet he landed at.

“You did this!” he screams pointing a finger at me before he pounces. He flies into the air and George quickly reaches out and catches him by the back of his neck in mid air. Chris makes a gagging noise and flops around like a fish caught on a line.

His legs kick and then George just flings him into the far wall.

Just like in the cartoons, Chris flies upside down into George’s bookshelf. The shelf tips forward, various things from the shelves land on Chris and bounce off his head.

This has gone too far but I can’t seem to bring myself to stop it.

Chris lies motionless on the floor.


To be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 20

I slide behind the wheel of my car. I don’t know how much time I will have before George will be pulling up in front of the house. I also hope that Chris won’t wake up and wonder, “What the fuck is going on?” I have a lot riding on this.

I pull out onto Central Avenue take a quick left and another quick left. I am around the block from the house and unless George has a reason to come through this neighborhood, I should be safe and unseen. I can’t see the house from where I am so I pull up in front of a stranger’s house, turn off the car and light another cigarette.

I look at my watch and wait twenty minutes.

Three cigarettes later, twenty minutes has slowly passed. I place the key back into the ignition and the engine sputters and jumps to life. Thank go, I am not staging a bank robbery and have to rely on my car to make a getaway.

I pull the car back onto Central Avenue and head the two blocks. From this direction I can see the house before I have to signal to turn. If George is home, I will immediately see his car, if not I will drive by.

As I approach the end of the block, I see a glorious site, George is home, his car is sitting outside in the front of the house. I pull up across the street and shut off my car. It coughs again and jumps a little before turning off. I open the driver’s side door and step out onto the street.

I slam the door shut. “Honey I’m home!” I want to yell out as I pass in front of George’s car. A quick touch to the hood tells me that George hasn’t been here that long. I walk around the front and step onto the sidewalk, that’s when a pile of clothing comes flying out the front. Then I hear George’s voice.

“Pick up your fucking shit and get the fuck out of my house!”

Then some shoes fly out, a mug shatters on the stoop and then Chris fly’s out. He has no shirt on, no shoes, just socks and is buckling his pants. I pause on the sidewalk as George steps onto the stoop.

Chris scrambles to stand. He grasps his waistband in his hand. George see’s me standing there. “Do you know what this stupid fuck did to our house?” he asks me then sticks one finger out in Chris’ direction. Realizing that George has called it “our” house suddenly means to me, that my plan has succeeded probably better than I have ever imagined.

“I didn’t do anything,” Chris screams and makes a run for the front door. He quickly passes by George who turns and chases him in. I walk up the stoop and slowly walk through the front door. “Oh my god,” I say looking around slowly. “What happened?”

I can hear that George and Chris are somewhere else in the house. I hear furniture crashing and the two of them screaming at each other. I walk over to the overturned recliner and set it upright. Clearly George flipped his little rat ass out of it and onto the floor.

“Oh my,” I say as I reach over to pick up an empty booze bottle. “This house is saturated with booze!”

I’m sure that no one can hear me but you never know.

I slowly walk into the hallway. The crashing and screaming is coming from downstairs. I lean my head into the laundry room and look at the dogs in their cage. “Just a couple more minutes.” I loudly whisper.


I walk through the kitchen and head towards the basement. George is on the phone to the police, Chris is screaming.

To be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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