dysFUNKtional ENTERTAINMENT
PART I
At this exact moment in time, I’ve reached a point which no writer wishes to arrive whatsoever... I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know what is now. I don’t know what is. I seem to have driven head on into a stone-cold brick-wall of writer’s block coming up on my sophomore year. I haven’t had anything published major since over a year and a half ago; two shorts: No Escape and Biggest Fan, which both won numerous awards worldwide and grossed me a cool $200,000. Not bad for a couple of shorts... Just imagine the integers if they were novels... Ahhh, the sights are limitless in the mind of the dreamer. Too bad my dreams lately have been entirely nightmares, special thanks goes out to my most recent ex-wife...in it’s entirety it’s been about thirteen days with two more left before I have to vacate the premises of my own home. The woman attempts to blame our failed marriage on my relationship with liquor, but I find it super convenient that the time I run out of money is the exact time that she thinks I’m drinking too much, that we don’t talk anymore, that she isn’t in love anymore, that she wants me to leave and take with me only the clothes on my back...yada, yada, yada. Can you believe the bitch?
And to think, the ultimate reason my funds have magically disappeared quicker than Houdini is because she insisted the home (which I fucking bought) needed pretty much an entire makeover – I’m talking concrete basement floor to the top most single shingle on the roof. It’s also ironic that the minute the last construction bill was paid off, the very next minute I received a surprise visit and the divorce paperwork from my good ol’ pal Walter Jackson...our attorney (who I fucking introduced her to!). I tell you, I couldn’t have written it better myself. And also I’d like to apologize if some of the written words read happen to offend anyone, you see, I’m more so venting as opposed to trying to tell a good story.
Whatever. I look forward to the days where these headaches don’t overcome my cerebrum. This is probably exactly what I need anyways, a fucked up reality check to get myself out of this slippery slump. It’s just my fantastic luck, the same luck that got me into this situation, that led me down fate’s road; a road that is also known as Philips Road. You see, after coming home to changed locks and no way to get into my house that didn’t lead to jail, I went to my local watering hole to quench my dehydrated thirst. That is where I received a “mistaken” phone call from an old friend of mine, back when I was a pre-teen and attended a summer camp up in Northern California. He lived in the local town and since our youth we’ve always kept in touch.
“Hello?” No answer. “Greg? You there?”
Suddenly, Greg’s surprised voice sliced the silence, “hello?”
“Why hello there.”
“Who’s this?”
“Why who’s this?”
“Greg.”
“Preston.”
“Preston? Preston Weary?”
“The one and only.”
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck’s up!?”
“I have no idea. I’m just as baffled as you.”
“What’s going on? You in the neighborhood?”
“Yeah, definitely not. I’m in LA where the sun keeps on shinin’.”
“So, what do I owe this surprising spur of the moment phone call?”
“Um, you called me.”
“Serious?”
“Serious as the snake.”
“How strange, I guess I must’ve butt dialed you.”
“Well you always did have a large ass.” I laughed at my own joke, as did Greg. “Well, I hope everything is going fantastic.”
“Oh yeah, just taking each day, day by day. What’s up with you? Any new novels?”
“Oh no, nothing at the moment. I’ve been more focused on life itself. Going through a divorce.”
“Oh shit, man, two in a row, my hats off to you.”
“Yeah, she’s basically taking everything except the clothes off my back. She took the pot I had to pee in and changed the lock on the window I was going to throw it out of. Trying to piece together my current existence. Not sure where I’m heading. Any suggestions?”
“Wow, man, that’s a lot to put on a pal. If it helps at all I can put you up at a house.”
“Serious?”
“Serious as the snake. My parents just bought a cabin ‘round the way. You could totally stay there rent free while you figure your shit out.”
“I honestly don’t know what to say. That sounds amazing.” I sat a second in silence. What a strange plot twist to be hit with. Life is always–
“–Preston? You there?”
“Yup. So what’s the deal with this cabin?”
“Oh, man, it was a fucking steal! My parents came up on a wicked good deal. They plan to renovate the place later this year but that shit ain’t gonna happen for at least another six months, if not more. So you can hang your hat for as long as you need.”
“That sounds fantastic, man. I think this is exactly what I need.”
“Good to hear, buddy. I gotta tell you though, it’s in the fucking cuts. Literally. It’s thirty minutes from town...if you’re speeding! No cell reception. No Internet. No nothing. Just fucking woods. Hopefully you don’t go Jack Nicholson on us.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry. You see, Jack went crazy because there was no liquor in the hotel. Best believe I’m coming fully stocked. Shit, besides you, liquor seems to be my most recent best friend. She never turns her back on me. She’s probably the only chick I could never get rid of.”
Greg laughs. “Just don’t go Hunter Thomas on us either... or Nick Cage – Leaving Las Vegas.”
“Jeez, Greg, I always knew you were a smart ass, I just didn’t know you were smart. Great cinematic references.”
“Some things never die.”
“Some things can’t be killed either I guess.”
“Listen, Preston, I’ve gotta get a move on but let me hit you with this address. Got a pen and pad?”
“Greg, I’m a fucking writer.”
Greg laughs through the phone. “64487 Philips Road, Redding, CA.”
“Got it. I literally need to get out of here ASAP so I’ll probably head up tomorrow.”
“Superb. I’m out of town but I’ll be back next week. I’ll have my parents leave the key under the front mat.”
“Great fucking hiding place.”
“Trust me, no one’s breaking into this place unless it’s a fucking vampire.”
“Wow, that makes me feel comfortable.”
Greg laughs! “Preston Weary! Can’t wait to see you, guy! We’ll talk soon!”
“For sure. Great hearing from you and seriously, you’re a life saver.”
“Don’t sweat it you homo. Talk soon.”
“Adios.”
The phone conversation died as I sat in a mourning silence... excited... looking forward to new life... new inspiration...
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What seemed to be an endless boring road lay ahead of me. There basically isn’t shit down Highway 5 but literally shit as I cruise a cool 70 MPH’s through a thick mist of methane gas smothering the local slaughterhouse. It’s crazy, the smell hits my nostrils hard even through the closed windows. The only way I could make you understand this wretched, horrible, terrifying stench was if you were to take a stroll through someone’s asshole. Not a recommended trip.
I rented a truck and U-Haul trailer to bring the majority of my belongings eight hours from Los Angeles to Redding, before turning around on a straight shoot back to L.A. to return rentals, grab my Honda Fit with my remaining belongings, send one last “Fuck You” to my ex-wife and hit shitty Highway 5 for a final eight hours back to my final destination where a fabulous bottle of Scotch awaits my arrival. It will be much appreciated after twenty-four hours of solid driving. Hell, it might be gone after one gulp.
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It was six-thirty at night when I finally reached Redding and could truly use a drink. Thank God the GPS showed only thirty minutes left in the first third of my journey. As I passed through town, the local businesses soon vanished and all I witnessed down the windy road were houses and farms. I thought to myself – who the fuck would want to live all the way out here? Probably a bunch of poor schmucks taken advantage of by their bitchy ex-wives. Men forced to the edge of existence. Men who possibly would be in prison for murdering their former spouses if they hadn’t moved to Butt-Fuck- Nowhere. To be honest, I was probably a hatchet throw away from decapitating my ex- bitch. Then again, being incarcerated might not be so bad? Imagine all the writing I’d get done and the advantage my career would gain from the controversy – not to mention prison-authors are more likely to become best sellers as opposed to the average Schmo.
“Ah shit!”
My GPS unexpectedly stopped working as the rain started falling, which turned into a dreaded down pour as if someone instantly turned the faucet on full blast. I tried re- starting the app, which worked, but literally the GPS road I was on simply ceased to exist... The map on my screen was literally blank as if no roads remained past this point, yet I continued to spiral downward past cabins and farms. Thank God the last GPS instruction was to take a right on Philips and I had the address so I concluded that I wasn’t completely fucked.
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Philips Road – Phucking Phinally. I hooked the right and continued over the river and through the woods to the cabin I go. It has been completely dark since town, as I have not passed one single street light whatsoever, but a strange white cloud suddenly consumes my vehicle as I’m immediately surrounded by an unexpected mysterious glowing fog – probably the thickest fog I’ve ever witnessed – like the type of shit you only see in movies and you predict it was created using CGI because no one knew fucking fog could be so thick – not even God.
As strange as the fog hit an intense bone-aching chill also overcame me. I’m talking an unbelievable change as I watched the rentals thermometer drop an astonishing fifteen degrees right before my mesmerized eyes. The surrounding windows instantly frosted as I rolled down the drivers and passenger sides a smidgeon as to not let the dreaded down pour inside while simultaneously throwing on the defrost. It was winter but Holy Fuck it was cold. Going from L.A.’s year round summer to this shit was definitely a bummer. I should’ve researched Redding’s forecast – what was that!? A scream!? ...I listened to the ominous forest sounds outside the slightly cracked windows...
The wind howled, or perhaps those were actual wolves or whatever else animal howls. I bet God doesn’t even know what type of creatures lurk through these backwoods. Good thing I’m not kayaking and I’ve seen Deliverance. The sounds emerging from the darkness around me were more than one hundred percent horrifying and between the intense fog, bone-chilling air, terrible down pour, windiness of the down-sloped road, and disturbing whispers in the wind, I concluded I should probably decrease the vehicles speed as I could barely see a mere five feet in front of the windshield, making the last stretch of my journey beyond difficult. The main thought that drove my desire to complete this hellish trip and gave me the extra boost needed to finish was the sweet sensation of Scotch – I could almost taste it. In fact, why the fuck haven’t I already started? I’m sure I would reach the cabin before I was even drunk, let alone I haven’t seen one single car on these back roads since I passed civilization. The decision was unanimous so I reached for my bottle bag behind the passenger seat, found the bottle among several others as I could never forget the feel of it’s shape, began to bring it up front when out of nowhere–
“–AHHH!!!”
I screamed, slammed on the breaks and swerved as a fucking deer or moose or whatever the fuck this “thing” was leaped in front of the truck and made friends with the grill, who introduced it to the tires as the truck hurdled over its massive body! Despite this terribly unexpected accident, the worst was yet to come... During the collision and skid-out to a violent stop, the bottle of Scotch flew out of my hand only to smash into the soon-to-be cracked windshield spraying liquor literally everywhere! Thank God I agreed to the full-cover insurance – I wonder if their were any tiny font clauses that revoked insurance if you return a broken vehicle with an overwhelmingly strong cologne of liquor. I mean lets be honest, would they really believe a story like this? I don’t even know if I do and it happened to me. I mean, what the actual fuck.
“What the actual fuck.”
I literally sat a second in reflection as I thanked Jesus I was still alive while at the same time cursing him for taking the life of the Scotch. I decided to depart the Dodge in order to determine the damage done by this dreaded deer or whatever the fuck this “thing” was.
As I stepped into the freezing cold wet night I did not know which direction I was facing, as I believe I spun around? The fog was extraordinarily thick and I was confused. Did I hit my head? I touched my forehead – no blood. Was I already drunk? I checked my breath – it was the only thing that didn’t smell like liquor. Suddenly my discombobulated thoughts were distracted by one of the most disturbing sounds I’ve ever heard - like a crying heavy baby on the verge of death, beating and thumping, slowly, forcefully being dragged over to the afterlife.
Instantly frightened, I cautiously crept around the wreck to discover the animal I hit, completely fucked, still alive, kicking and screaming in unimaginable pain! I felt sorry that I caused this torture and I immediately glanced around for something, anything to put this poor “thing” out of its misery. I located a massive rock beside the road and struggled to lift and carry it over to the animal’s head. It looked directly into my eyes squealing the most terrible cry ever heard as I raised the small boulder high as I could, turned my gaze away and tossed the weight down on it’s head. I can never erase the sound of those haunting cries and the silence after it’s face was smashed with a loud CRUNCH. What the actual fuck!? I stood in shock before the animal I murdered. I did not know what to do next as I became drenched while the big hand ticked - what was that!?
I quickly turned around at the faint sound of...laughter? Jesus, I must be drunk. Or I need to get drunk ASAP. I can’t be too far from the cabin – what to do with this dead animal? I reached down to grab the only two legs that remained attached to the body and with all my might attempted to drag the carcass off the road but I literally couldn’t budge this gigantic animal if my life depended on it. As I reached down giving the slaughtered game one more go – I stopped and looked up down the road – what was that noise!? Did I hear something, again...?
Suddenly two speeding headlights broke through the fog and I leaped backwards as a pickup truck appeared, swerved around my mess, HONKED with the faint sound of a chewing-tobacco filled mouth with a redneck accent shouting ‘Dip-Shit!’, and the worst part yet, MUNCHED over the recently deceased, smashing it further into the street and launching a dreadful blast of blood and guts directly at my upper body and yes, splattering my face completely! I did what any decent human being would do... I screamed. Then came the tears as I attempted to remove the gunk while repeatedly vomiting. What the actual fuck!?
I was soon thankful it was raining as I did my best to clean the insides of this “thing” from the outside of myself. I would’ve cleaned more if I weren’t showing early signs of hypothermia, so I quickly re-entered the rental smearing blood on the seat. Fuck it; the truck was already a mess. What’s a little blood going to do? The interior could use a splash of color anyways...
For a second I frightened myself more thinking what if the engine didn’t start? That would really be the icing on the cake and to be honest I would not be surprised if it didn’t. I laughed to myself as I turned the key and...BAM – the engine roared to life. Thank God! I maneuvered the truck and trailer back fully on the road and proceeded to head in the direction I assumed was correct. As I passed the first property that presented itself through the ghostly fog, I slowed to locate the address and what do you know – 64487. Bingo. I glanced at the clock – 7:06 PM. I made it.
As the truck wobbled along the narrow driveway I noticed lights on in the cabin before me. I thought it was strange but once again, with the way things have been going, I wasn’t the least bit surprised. I parked the truck in front of the garage and killed the engine before rushing from car door to cabin door, attempting to dodge the rain even though I was already completely soaked. When I reached the mat before the door I crouched to the floor when out of nowhere the door BURST open with a “BOO!”
An embarrassing yelp escaped my windpipe as I lurched backwards landing hard on my ass. I looked up to the pleasant image of a beautiful blonde. She laughed as she helped my startled self on to my feet.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
“It’s okay. You’re forgiven on account of I don’t think I could stay mad at someone so beautiful.”
She blushed. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“I hope you aren’t offended by me asking you the same questions.”
“I’m Heidi and I live here. You?”
I was confused. “Is this 64487 Philips?”
“Yes.”
“In Redding?”
“No, Bluing.”
“Serious?”
She laughed at my expense, again. “I’m kidding. Yes, Redding.”
“Hmm, I was under the impression that this cabin was purchased by my friend’s parents? He was giving me a place to stay for a while but last we spoke he said the cabin was vacant.”
“Why didn’t you say so!? Come on in! Just try not to get blood everywhere.”
I glanced at my destroyed wardrobe as she led the way into the cabin. “Sorry, you literally aren’t going to believe what happened to me.”
“I’ll show you the bathroom so you can get cleaned up. I’ll get you a towel.”
She disappeared before I could respond so I took the few moments alone to glance around the cabin. I could never forget the aroma inside. Theirs nothing more pleasant than the homey hygiene of a wonderful wood fire. The place was definitely cosy, while at the same time a little spooky. I approached another room when–
“–BOO!”
I screamed as Heidi leapt out from behind the doorway and scared the shit out of me, again.
“Jesus!” She stood staring at me. Wait, wasn’t she just wearing a different outfit? Her hands were empty.
“No towel?”
“Who are you?”
Confusion consumed me. Clearly she’s playful but how far is she going to take this?
“Heidi, we just met outside.”
“I’m not Heidi–”
“–BOO!”
I leaped forward as Heidi appeared behind me, towel in hand! I did a double take. Wow, I must have done something right is what I thought as I blinked and pinched myself. Yup, awake, and standing between two of the hottest twins I’ve ever seen. Thank you Jesus!
“I see you’ve met my other half. Hellen this is...”
“Preston Weary.” I reached out and was received with Hellen’s tiny cold porcelain hand.
“Hellen Hawthorne.” She aims her attention at my horrible mess of an outfit.
“Please forgive me, I had a bit of an accident.”
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and then tell us all about it over drinks by the fire.”
“I hope you like Scotch.”
I smiled. “There’s nothing I like more.”
Heidi led the way to the bathroom and placed the towel on the counter.
“Thanks again. I’ve got to grab a bag out of the truck.”
“Do you need help?”
“Nonsense. Just make sure the Scotch is ready as I feel like I could die for a drink.”
She smiled. “Be careful what you wish for...”
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I emerged from the bathroom fresh and feeling like a new man. It’s amazing how a shower and some clean clothes can make one feel. Now all I need is a drink. I headed back downstairs to the living room finding Heidi and Hellen sitting fireside.
“I see you two have started without me. I guess I better catch up.”
Heidi hands me a Scotch filled glass, which I demolish in a gulp.
“Easy there sailor, we only have a couple bottles left.”
“Ah, don’t worry my dear. I came fully prepared with multiple supplies. Combined, our rations should cover us all winter.”
I held forward my empty glass and rocked it side to side with a large smile on my face. Heidi was quick to refill it, but I was even quicker to drain it.
“Take notes ladies. You could learn a thing or two.” I winked and they smiled.
“So tell us, what the fuck happened to you?”
“More like what the fuck didn’t happen to me. Where should I begin?”
They scooted to the couch ends and made room for a Preston sandwich. Though I had been through Hell, it appeared as if I were currently in Heaven.
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By the time I finished my unbelievable tale, all three of us were three sheets to the wind. We finished the bottle of Scotch and it was strange, I felt so comfortable with the twins it was as if I knew them my entire life. And after multiple refusals of help, they insisted in aiding the process of bringing my belongings into the cabin, which definitely sped up the duration. It’s amazing; it literally took me hours upon hours to pack out the truck and trailer, while it literally took less than an hour to unload with the two.
After everything was out of the truck I began moving belongings upstairs to an empty room, though I had no fucking idea how I was going to get my bed upstairs, if that’s even what you want to call it – a bed. It’s more of an art piece, or a space ship. 350- lb’s of pure steel with hydraulics to adjust the angle of my head or feet, not to mention – it fucking vibrates. I can’t wait to get it hooked up and show the twins the surprise I mentioned I couldn’t tell, but instead had to show them. I’m quite honestly flabbergasted that the three of us wasted were even able to get the damn thing out of the truck, especially with their petite frames.
I heard footsteps in the hallway outside my room–
“–Hey girls, I don’t think we’ll be able to bring–”
–I stepped into the hallway, but it was empty... How strange? I could’ve sworn I just heard someone out here. I made my way downstairs where the twins sat by the fire.
“Were you guys just upstairs? I could’ve sworn I just heard someone in the hallway.”
The twins looked at each other and smiled. “Better get used to it, Bucko.”
“Yeah, this place is haunted.”
Heidi opened her mouth about to say something when an enormous THUD exploded behind me! I jumped out of my skin to find that my 350-lb bed frame had fallen over, which baffles me because it was positioned where it would not move unless something moved it! I looked at Heidi who’s mouth was open as she was still about to speak. “I was literally just about to say I saw something out of the corner of my eye – then your bed was knocked over.”
I broke the silence. “You gals just love scaring a guy, huh?”
“We aren’t joking. This place is legit haunted.”
Whatever they were saying next was drowned out by my mind racing – did I just move into a haunted cabin in the woods? I should be scared shitless but I’m surprisingly intrigued – could this be the inspiration I need? I’ve truly not had any ideas for anything recent to write, let alone a solid ghost story. Perhaps I could–
“–Earth to Preston.”
I snapped back to reality. “Sorry. Sometimes I get caught up in my own thoughts. The downside of being a storyteller. So this place is legit haunted? Like, for real?”
“Oh my God, you should totally write a ghost story!”
I smiled, “I think you two are my muses.”
The sisters bounced up and down in excitement.
“First, before I ask you both to fill me in on the strange occurrences that have taken place at this cabin, would you mind if we throw my bed in the corner? I highly doubt we’ll be able to get it up that staircase. It’s also pretty cozy by this here fireplace and the Christmas tree makes me feel homey during the holidays.”
The girls laughed. “We were thinking the same thing. Plus you’ll be closer to the both of us down here than upstairs with him.” Heidi pointed at the ceiling as the floorboards above us CREAKED... We all glanced at the ceiling and then at each other.
“Yes, it’s probably best if we sleep as close as possible.”
I smiled, “Speaking of witches, before we get into this ghost chat, how about you two help me set up my bed so I can show you the surprise.”
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After more drinks, ghost stories, more drinks, more ghost stories, and endless vibration and bed angle adjustments, the two sisters kissed me goodnight and disappeared into their rooms leaving me alone with the fireplace and Christmas tree. I managed to wobble onto my feet and stumble to the flames – Holy Shit I didn’t realize how hammered I was. I somehow managed to feed more logs to the hungry fire without burning myself and make it back to my bed as the fireplace raged and I instantly felt the room getting warmer. Ah...nothing like a solid wood fire. I lay on my side and stared at the beautiful twinkling lights and ornaments on the Christmas tree and before I knew it... ZzZzZz...
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As the night dragged on I stirred in and out of consciousness not knowing if I was dreaming or what but I kept rolling around, startled by strange sexual noises coming from behind the adjacent wall. This upset me for multiple reasons; one – if any of the two girls were horny why the fuck didn’t they wake me, two – if there were two girls why the fuck wasn’t I with the odd-girl-out, and three – fuck the guy who was in whoever’s room it was doing whatever it is they were doing, which sounded like a great fucking time – literally. Then again, was I dreaming this? I’m not sure, I kept fading in and out of ‘Sandman Land’ until – I passed out again, as I was still extremely inebriated.
As I lay on my side, I suddenly woke up again and opened my eyes. At first, like so many times before, I didn’t know if I was really awake or still asleep. As I blinked multiple times staring at the Christmas tree I soon became beyond scared as I realized a handful of ornaments were dangling in the air entirely by themselves!
A clump of glistening colorful balls floated before me a mere eight feet away. As I lay there pondering if what I was seeing was real, one of the ornaments fell to the hardwood floor and SHATTERED...then another, and another! Each one getting closer and closer, making their way directly towards me! Every single hair on my body stood straight on edge as I opened my mouth and attempted to scream but no sound emerged! As if I no longer had a voice box. I tried to move – but couldn’t! As I watched the last ornament shatter before my horror-stricken face my mouth finally released a whistle as a terrifying dark figure popped up from below my side of the bed! My body launched across the mattress SLAMMING the back of my head against the wall!
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My eyes popped open. I was freezing. I could see my breath. My head throbbed. I felt a huge bump on the back of my scalp and could also feel dried blood. I must have been wasted and fell, though it’s strange because I felt completely sober. I recall drinking heavily and convince myself I should’ve still been decently drunk, but drunk I was not. I sparsely remember vague dreams, terrifying dreams. Dreams where I was covered in blood and waving a large, sharp, crimson red axe. Then the axe was no longer in my hands and a figure stood before me with the axe splitting his face in two! Jesus Christ, did I kill this person? I recall hearing sex noises all night yet the cabin currently remained silent. Holy Shit I must have been hammered, but I felt fine at that exact moment? Didn’t I feed the fire before passing out? I could’ve sworn I loaded the shit out of that fireplace. I was pretty confident it was going to last until morning. Holy Fuck it was cold.
I sat up on the edge of my bed rubbing my pounding head as I froze, not from the arctic air, but from what lay before me...a trail of broken ornaments leading from the tree to my feet on the frosty hardwood floor. I remembered everything.
“Fuck this.”
Without second guessing I leaped to my feet and as I began putting on my jacket, gloves and hat, I glanced at the fireplace which was almost completely filled with wood, barely burned, still intact, as if something smothered the fire to death...