Web hosting Custom Email SiteBuilder

Bloody Bacon

"So, what's happening?" Henretta asked, dropping a stitch on the sweater she was knitting, trying to see around Molly's wide backside.

"Ken just stormed out of the house. He had Barbie on the table, thought they were going to have whoopee right there! She must have turned him down. Can't imagine anyone turning down a man as handsome as Ken, know I wouldn't."

"That was always your problem, you never could say no to a-n-y-o-n-e," Henretta said, clicking the needles together sharply.

"Least my husband never called me the ice queen!"

"No, he was to busy complaining about Tom, Dick & Harry," Henretta mumbled, counting stitches. "There's Jane," Molly said, peering through the telescope again, "she's going to see Barbie, this is almost as good as Paten Place."

"Worse, I should say!"

Molly whirled around from the telescope, "What did you say about Tom!?!?!?!?!?!?"

Jane went into Barbie & Ken's house.

Barbie looked up, tear's streaming down her face, "Oh Jane, me and Ken just had another fight, I'm scared we're on our way to divorce court, what-ever am I to do?"

Jane looked down at the floor, and clicked her tongue, she came over to the table and sat down. "Aren't you going to offer me some coffee?"

"Huh," Barbie said, wiping her tear's away, "oh, yes, sorry." She got up, and made one just the way Jane liked.

Jane observed herself sliding her foot back and forth across the kitchen floor.

"I just don't know what I'm suppose to do," Barbie continued, " me and Ken just don't seem to be able to communicate anymore?"

Jane looked at the floor again, and clicker her tongue.

"It's just that every time we get together lately, everything seems to come to a head."

"I wonder if I should tell her about her floors yellow waxy build-up," Jane thought, "or would it send her over the edge. If my floor was this yellow, it'd probably send me over the edge..."

Ken sped down the road, muttering under his breath. He switched on the radio savagely.

"Today's top story," the radio blared, "another Prom King Dead! Yes for the second time this year, another Prom King was murdered."

Ken pulled over to the side of the road quickly, "Oh no, not Lester."

"Lester Parks," the radio continued, "was brutally bludgeoned to death with a computer keyboard last night. According to Coroner Davey Dipuck, Lester Parks was evidently tortured before his eventual death. He had been stabbed repeatedly with a paperclip more than a thousand times. The exact number is still an issue since Davey Dipuck lost count at 938. Here with more of this story is Rona Bareitall."

"Hello, this is Rona Bareitall at Croix Bay High School. Last night's murder of yet another Prom King has thrown the whole student body into turmoil. I'm standing here with Helen Trump, last night's prom queen. Helen, what it the general attitude of your fellow student's?"

"Totally denial based Ms. Bareitall."

Ken winced as a loud clump, clump, clump emitted from the radio.

"Please," Rona said, "if you could refrain from shaking your head. So, your fellow student's are shocked to say the least."

"Totally. It really blows the mind that someone could be so morally lacks as to keyboard such a handsome stud like Lester. If they had done it to say a dweeb like Ricky Mellon, well, no one would have batted an eye. But Lester!?!?!?!?! He was like a Nordic god."

"Yes, well, yes, thank you Helen. In related news, the school board has called for an emergency meeting tonight to try and address parent's concerns. Special guest at tonight's meeting will be Reverend Farthewell, who will be laying on his healing hands to those troubled by the recent tragedy."

"Thank you Rona. Speculation that there may be a serial killer exterminating Prom Kings is running rampant through Croix Bay today. In related news, last nights prom's turnout broke new records for people attending..."

Ken switched off the radio.

"Poor Bruno, loosing his only son like that...."

Across town in Croix Bay's only duplex, Lester's father, Buster Brown stood in the upstairs window looking out over the front lawn.

"Vulture's," he screamed, through the open window at the gathering news crew, and chucked out bags of peanut's at them.

"Please Buster," his wife said, coming into the room, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

"Just look at them Pebbles," Buster said, "they smell a carcass and gather. VULTURES!!!!" he screamed again, throwing more bags of peanut's at them.

"Don't call Lester a carcass!" Pebbles moaned, "oh, I can't take it anymore." Pebbles rushed out of the room.

"VULTURE'S!"

Several of the reporter's turned their cameras on, recording the scene, which was strange since they were all radio reporter's.

"VULTURE'S!" Buster screamed, chucking the last of the peanuts out at the crowd gathering.

"Hey, how does it feel?" one of the reporter's called up.

Suddenly all the reporter's started to chant, "How does it feel, how does it feel, how does it feel."

"Here they are pop," said Buster's other boy, carrying in a huge carton, "they were all out of bag's of peanut's, I had to get you can's."

"Even better," Buster said, grabbing them from his son.

"VULTURE'S!" he screamed, chucking down a can of peanut's which pegged a reporter in the head.

"A-h-h-h-h!" the reporter yelled. "I'll sue!"

"How does it feel," the other's chanted, "how does it feel."

"VULTURE'S!" Buster screamed, chucking can's of peanuts with careful aim.

"I'll sue. I'll sue."

"How does it feel, how does it feel."

"VULTURE'S!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Ken turned his car around. "Poor Buster," he said aloud to himself. "He must be devastated. Probably held up in his study, brewing silently in self-pity like he always does. I'll go, see if I can get him to open up, let out some of that built up anger out."

Thoughts of his fight with Mary were long since forgotten. Unfortunately, also forgotten was his responsibility to be home promptly at six for supper...

"Buster Brown, put that can of peanut's down!" a voice commanded through a bullhorn.

"That voice you hear is Dan Ratherbethere, head of the S.W.A.T. team that has been called in."

"Is it that dangerous Rona?"

"Definitely. Attempt's by myself to get a statement from Mr. Brown brought verbal abuse & attempts on my life."

"Rona, are there any demands?"

"Not yet. The negotiator has not as yet arrived. Police seem to be concentrating on protecting the innocent onlookers, and tending the wounded."

"How are people taking this unusual circumstance."

"Well, it has definitely been a day for shocks. First being Mr. Brown's son killed, the second victim of the Prom King killer. Now Mr. Brown's apparent leap off the edge of sanity."

"How about the rest of Mr. Brown's family? Are they in any kind of danger?"

"Unknown at this time. If they are in the house, and alive, they would be at risk."

"So, they may already dead?"

"If they're in the house, I would say it's more than likely."

"We have to leave this once in a life time event to bring you a word from our sponsor."

Ken switched off the radio in disbelief. He was aware that some times people snapped, but he couldn't believe it of Buster.

He got out of his car and started walking up the road.

"Hey buddy!" a man yelled, grabbing his arm "don't go up there!"

"Quick, we're missing it!" Molly yelled from the bedroom.

"What?" Helda asked, picking up on the excitement in Molly's voice.

"Buster Brown is shooting people!"

"What!?!?!?!?!?!"

"I heard it on the radio...people, his family. Oh! Just come on, we're missing it~!"

Molly and Henretta weren't the only one's rushing to the scene. Almost half of the town had already made it, and a good portion of the other's were on their way.

Croix Bay's first traffic jam expanded rapidly.

Less than a block away at one of Croix Bay's many bar's, Mom's Pub, formally known as Wizard Willie's Pub, and before that as Down East Bar & Grill, was packed. Certainly not the only bar in town, it was the one closest to the scene in which to get inebriated. As the bar maid with the southern drawl was pouring beer's, dollar sign's flashing in her eyes, Connie Rungout and Eddie Sneer entered and fought their way over to a table that was being vacated.

"Doesn't surprise me at all," Connie said, "if my son had just been killed, I'd freak out too."

"Yes, but you wouldn't then kill your whole family," Ed stated.

"Did he?" Connie asked, surprised, "I hadn't heard that."

"That's what Rona was barking about."

"Well, guess if your going to mourn for one, you might as well mourn for them all," Connie said, with a shrug.

"Well, there is that," Eddie agreed.

Connie looked puzzled for a moment. "I imagine you would also get better funeral rates for a group, than for just one...."

"What's happening?" Pebbles asked, coming into the room, rubbing her puffy eyes.

"Look at 'em, look at 'em, look at 'em," Buster ranted, aiming a can of peanuts at Rona Bareitall's head, and sending it flying. "VULTURE'S!" he screamed, the can of nuts unfortunately missing Rona completely, but nailing a police officer in the knee.

"Buster! What is going on!" Pebbles yelled, feeling total fear for the first time in her life.

"VULTURE'S!" Buster screamed again, his voice hoarse.

"Buster," Pebbles whined, "what is going on, where's Jason?"

"I sent him down to the cellar."

"Why?"

"Look at the circus out there," he pointed meaningfully, then screamed, "VULTURE'S!"

The crowd started murmuring again. A voice rose above the roar, "Hot dogs, get your streaming red hot hot dog's." Another voice joined the vendor's, "Peanut's, Peanut's, just like the one's thrown by the loony, get your peanut's here."

"I can't believe it!" Molly huffed, as they walked past a street full of empty cars, "the biggest thing to happen, and we're the last to know!"

"Well you the one slowing up down," Henretta snapped, irritated.

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even know what was happening!"

"I don't know!"

"Buster Brown is going berserk, he's killed his family, and is taking shots out of the window."

"What else?"

"That's all they said, Rona's there."

"Let's go!" Henretta commanded, grabbing her sister's arm, pulling her along faster, "maybe Rona will get shot!"

Barbie sat tapping her fingers on the table. It was set up immaculately with the best china, satin tablecloth, candles, and a vase of dandelions that she, Barbie, had picked by her very own self!

"He wouldn't forget supper tonight," Barbie denied to herself, tapping her fingers. "Not tonight, the night of our anniversary."

She continued tapping her fingers, waiting as the supper dried. It was at this moment she started sipping on the wine.

Tap, tap, tap, sip, sip, sip, so the evening went.

Wanda, Croix Bays resident psychic, was having a trouble nap. Images of the present and future were bombarding her mind. What was puzzling was that she was seeing all the images reflected in a floor of yellowing wax. She saw crowds of people, with three people huddled hiding in a hole under them. She saw Rona float by, her face a mass of blood. A morgue full of dead brought her to consciousness.

Wanda woke suddenly. The knowledge that the peace and tranquillity of Croix Bay was over filled her with dread.

"No," she whispered, not wanting to believe, "not out little town."

She shivered.

"Not our little town turning into Sodom and Gomorra, please say it isn't so."

But deep down where it counted, she knew it was, Croix Bay was turning into THE CITY.

Wizard Willie's Psychic Emporium, readings done in back. Wanda had been working here for 2 years. Whiz, as he liked to be called, said she was the best he ever had.

Over the years Whiz had had several psychics for reading fortunes, most had been frauds, the rest unreliable. With Wanda he had found someone whom he could place his confidence. He was so impressed that he tried to get her to read his fortune, but Wanda refused to do this for someone she worked for. As she said, "I would rather play nude twister with my employer than read their future." Whiz promptly took her up on the offer, and gave her the job. Over time, they became quite the game masters.

She went to the back of the store, and put on, as she called it, her uniform. A scarf wrapped around her head, with long dangling earrings. A silk puffy blouse with vest and an ankle length skirt made of strips of different colored cloth.

She began rubbing dust off her crystal balls.

Wanda's first customer, Rachel, came rushing in.

"Have you heard!?"

"What?" Wanda asked, surprised. Rachel's aura glowed golden, excitement flushed her face.

"Buster Brown just went berserk, killing people."

The premonition of a morgue full of bodies came back. She quickly grabbed the table and lowered herself into a chair.

"How many are dead?" she whispered.

"Don't know, but Rona Bareitall was wounded. It's on the radio. Anyway, I'm on my way over there, so I won't be taking my reading."

Rachel rushed out of the store again, herding over to Buster's house with the rest of the crowd.

Wanda remembered Rona's bloody face, and shivered.

Barbie was inebriated. Her head lolled to the left as she lit the candles. Having lit both, she fell heavily back into her chair.

"Happy last anniversary to me," she sang, gaily. "Happy last anniversary to me, it's the last one, it's the last one, that I shall ever see...."

It was at this point she fell off the chair, knocking over the table and breaking into hysterical laughter. One of the candles extinguished itself.

"Get down in the cellar," Buster yelled.

Pebbles let out a scream, tear's springing to her eyes again, bolting out of the room. For just that moment her husband looked just like complete evil. She made her way down to the cellar.

Buster looked down at the lawn of people feeling a rage so strong it made his nose twitch. He picked up the last can of nuts.

The last can of nuts sailed gracefully, almost like a football. Rona knew what hit her. It slammed into the middle of her face, knocking her glasses off, and busting her nose. Luckily her cameraman caught it all on tape.

Rona fell over backwards with a scream.

"That's it boys, gas him!" said the man through the bullhorn.

Buster saw the police raise their guns, and bolted for the door.

Buster got to the foot of the stairs as the first gas canister came crashing through the window. By the time he got to the cellar door, he was choking.

He groped his way into he cellar and slammed the door behind him. He paused at the head of the stairs trying to catch his breath.

"Buster?" Pebble's called up, "is that you? What's going on?"

"Their shooting us," Buster choked out.

Buster led the way to the back of the cellar.

"Tell me it doesn't pay to be paranoid," he said, pushing open the panel in the wall that led to the bomb shelter.

"Maybe we should go back and give ourselves up?" Pebbles said, feeling claustrophobic.

"Dad, are you sure you want to go in there? This is the only way out."

"Go!" Buster snapped, pushing them both in the tunnel.

Buster shut the door, sealing them in darkness.

"Oh, I don't like this," Pebbles whined.

Rona whimpered as the medic taped up her nose.

"It's going to be a while," he informed her, "all the ambulances are trapped."

"I'm not leaving," Rona said, defiantly.

"I just said you can't!"

"This is the biggest story of the year, there's no way I'd leave."

"Are you hard of hearing, there is no way for you to go!"

"My commitment is here, in the hub of the battle field, you couldn't pry me out of here."

"Lady, I just said...."

"Oh, tell her how dedicated she is, and let's get on with it," a man in the crowd yelled.

Unbeknownst to Pebbles when she rushed out of the room, she had caught her arm on a nail that was protruding from a rail on the banister that Buster had been going to repair for six month's. Being stunned by the death of her son and frightened of her husband, she did not feel it as the nail head scrapped a long gash down her arm, sending blood flying. To further complicate things, Buster himself, caught his hand on this same nail, in his mad rush out of the room, causing even more blood to fly.

Rona was standing close to the police Captain, trying to overhear their plans. Her attempts to interview him were rebuked, and not gently either. On hearing that they were planning to storm the house, Roma made up her mind. Being the dedicated newswoman she was, and not afraid to keep informing everyone of the fact, felt that her place was in the front line of the assault. She worked her way up to the front of the crowd.

Captain Lewis called for the assault. It was at this time that Rona leaped out in front of them, heading for the door for all she was worth.

She was the first to get to the door. She grasped the handle and threw it open. The smell of the tear gas stopped her in her tracks in the doorframe. This was not a wise place to pause. Two police officers directly behind her, unable to stop in time, slammed into her, knocking her down, part running, part falling over her. This in turn started a domino effect as more police charged in the door. Rona found her nose broke in several morel places. Police scrambling to get up caused Rona to sustain several gashes to the head. Blood was flowing freely.

Rona found herself thrown roughly into a corner out of the way. Police scattered around the house in search for Buster.

"I've got blood over here," a cop called from the hall.

"Blood all over the stairs," called another.

This excitement brought Rona around.

"Get Captain Lewis," Lieutenant McGraw commanded.

"Upstairs clear, blood everywhere, sign's of a struggle," a cop yelled down.

"Downstairs clear, more blood."

"How about the cellar, anyone checked it...."

"How about the cellar, anyone checked it?" Lieutenant McGraw asked.

"Is there a cellar? I never found a door."

"Anyone know if there's a cellar?" McGraw asked.

"Yes," Rona yelled, "the doors in the kitchen by the fridge."

"At least three of you go down together," Captain Lewis said, coming into the house. He gave Rona a disdainful look and marched over to McGruff. "So, what's the situation?"

"Sign of a struggle upstairs, blood upstairs and down," McGruff summarized.

"Get the people in to gather the evidence. Make sure they do it by the book, I don't want another juicer case."

"Right chief," McGruff said, and left the house.

Captain Lewis gave Rona another disdainful look, then marched into the kitchen.

Rona busily worked on getting her bleeding stanched.

"How are you guy's doing?" Captain Lewis called down the stairs, "find anything?"

One of the cops called up, "We found something all right...."

"We found something all right. Lots of blood and a dirt floor, looks like it's been dug up."

"No people?" Captain Lewis asked.

"No, it's empty."

"Okay, bring your men up," Captain Lewis commanded, "we'll let the professional's do the scut work."

The three men came up from the cellar.

"I just don't understand it Captain. There's just no way he could have gotten out of the house."

"He's got to be here somewhere," the Captain said.

"But we've checked everywhere," the cop insisted.

"Not the attic," Rona said helpfully, coming into the room.

Captain Lewis faced Rona. "Lady, this is a crime scene! Your not suppose to be here."

"No, she's right Captain," the cop defended, "we never got to the attic."

Captain Lewis rubbed his temples. "Okay, get as many men together as you can, and get up there."

The three men rushed out of the room, with Rona right behind them.

Captain Lewis shook his head, and sat down at the kitchen table, and murmured to himself, "Just six month's till my retirement, and I get stuck with this case and Rona Bareitall, just how lucky can one get...."

A group of policemen were filing into the living room, with them came Rona's cameraman. Seeing the state of Rona's head, he immediately began filming her and the surrounding scene. The assembled group of officer's mounted the stairs. It was quite the scene. They took the stairs one behind the other, being careful to avoid stepping in the blood. Rona followed behind the last officer. Her cameraman didn't follow, choosing to avoid the blood all together.

They all gathered in the upstairs hall. One of the policemen grasped the rope, and pulled the drop down stairs down. The policemen began to ascend one by one.

Rona hung back. Buster had always been antagonistic to her, and she felt her presents would be more of an irritation than help. Rona's ears picked up as she heard one of the policemen yell, "The Captain just isn't going to believe this!"

If Barbie's neighbors had been home, the fire department would have been called a lot sooner. If that neighbor were Henretta or Molly, they would have been called almost immediately. As it was, the house was mostly engulfed in flames before anyone even noticed, and with all the fire truck's caught in the traffic jam to Buster's, Barbie's house continued to burn.

to be continued . . . .