[excerpt from An Odyssey of Dingbats! Volume 2, forthcumming from New Ritual Press]
It is a sultry and somber Wednesdee night at the Black Pineapple cinema. People are outside waiting to be let in. They are excited to see tonight’s viewing. The folks at the cinema will be watching Leonard Kastle’s The Honeymoon Killers, Russ Meyer’s Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! Georges Franju’s Eyes Without a Face, Ted V. Mikels’s The Astro-Zombies, John Waters’s Pink Flamingos, Doris Wishman’s Double Agent 73, Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, and whole variety of pictures from evening time to midnight and after. It’s gonna be quite a night!
At the Black Pineapple cinema, they showcase all sorts of pictures: horror, comedy, camp, melodramas, artsy-fartsy pictures, elevated horror, foreign horror, campy horror, (soooo many horror), hell, even foreign porn pictures and the whole nine yards.
Here walks in this little ol’ lady to the concession stand—Martha is her name—her chapped coral lips, blue eye shadow masking her sand-papery eyelids, and beneath her onion-shaped head are two lumpy breasts and a fat belly, dressed in a blue collared blouse and dark blue slacks covering her legs, and beneath those legs are two white sneakers (keeping those vein-popping, swollen feet) with red stripes on both sides of the heels, fashioning herself to be a Sonic the Hedgehog knock-off. She ain’t afraid to show off. She is dressed for the cinema, dressed for the night. Hell, she is even dressed for this bitchy concession stand gal who likes to chew and pop bubblegum and likes to be snippy with the other customers, a regular Wednesdee night for her. This gal thinks she can do whatever she pleases because her dearest daddy is paying for her school tuition and funding the cinema. She thinks she is hot shit, having firecrackers coming out of her asshole, like the fourth of fecking July. Martha has got to wait in line (like Dante’s Inferno) to endure the abuse of this bitch once she meets her at the stand and goes eye-to-eye with her, old-lady-to-bitch brawl.
“Hag in Distress” by Mr. Omar King
Some folks may regard Martha as the embodiment of shock, body horror, or a walking tragedy. Some may say that she is cold, unsympathetic, oblivious to being kind—hell, compassion is foreign to her—so therefore is unfit to love and unworthy to be loved. She is useless, unwanted, just a waste of space. Jabba the Hutt, they would snicker behind her back, and then they would be giddy and have all sorts of shits and giggles from it. And them folks would continue to chant: Jabba the Hutt, Jabba the Hutt, JABBA THE MOTHER FUCKING HUTT! HA-HA-HA-HA!
And they would get physical and aggressive toward her: throwing rocks, glass, and shit at her. Boy, them folks would do anything to kill time, and that meant giving the old hag a bad time. But unlike those teenage bastards and peepin’ toms, this old lady (hag, old cow, whatever you want to call her) is a human being that doesn’t give a damn. And should she ever. Why should she care about those jerks that throw trash at her and call her all sorts of mean names, vulgarities? They are asking for trouble, and they are gonna regret it. And besides, she ain’t afraid of them, not one bit. Look, she’s got a knife in her pocketbook, and she is ready to pull that sucker out and shank any motherfecker who stands in her way.
It was that—the knife—that gave the old woman the reputation of being a badass, a toughie, if you will, named “shock horror” behind her back. And after a while, some folks didn’t dare messin’ with her knowin’ that she has got one of those things in her pocket, and she is not afraid to use it. That’s right, if you come up to her, she will either beat you or shank you until your lights are out. What’s it gonna be? Don’t be fooled, folks, for you’ve been warned.
“LADY, ARE YOU RETARDED?!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’VE BEEN ASKIN’ YOU FOR THE PAST MINUTE WHAT YOU’RE GONNA ORDER: POPCORN OR SODA?!”
“I’m sorry, sweetness, I seem to have lost my place. I seem to be indecisive here, of what you are offering. It feels like you’re askin’ my hand and marriage. What, do you want to marry me?”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME, LADY?! WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR, SOME KIND OF LESBEAN?! I’M NOT ASKING FOR YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE, OLD WOMAN. I’M ASKING YOU TO CHOOSE FROM WHAT WE GOT ON THE MENU, BECAUSE YOU’RE HOLDING UP A LINE FOR FOLKS WHO ARE EAGER TO GET BACK TO THE DARK ROOM TO CONTINUE WATCHING THEIR DIRTY LITTLE PORNOS THEY CALL ‘CINEMATIC ART.’ MORE LIKE ‘CINEMATIC FART AND BARF.’ JUST MAKES ME WANT TO GAG SEEING THE SIGHT OF HOT SWEATY TIGHT-BODIED FELLERS SLAPPING THEIR RED COCKS BETWEEN HOT PINK TITTIES BOUNCING UP AND DOWN, WHIPPING THEIR HEADS BACK MOANING LIKE SEX-CRAZED KITTENS, SPOUTING BULLSHIT LIKE ‘DO IT HOW I LIKE IT, DADDY! OH YEAH! DO IT HOW I LIKE IT, YOU BIG FUCK!’ JUSTIFYING THEIR EROTIC PLEASURED FANTASIES AS ART MAKES ME GAG, JUST GAG OUT MY INSIDES TO THIS FILTH YOU PEOPLE CALL A FLOOR TO STEP ON WITH YOUR GRANNY SHOES AND ALL THE OTHER BULLSHIT PEOPLE OR HIGH CLASS ‘COMMONED’ FOLKS WEAR THESE DAYS! AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS STAND LIKE SOME RETARD, INDECISIVE TO CHOOSE A SIMPLE ORDER FROM THE MENU! WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH, EVERY DAY AND NIGHT!”
“It is all unnecessary junk, if you ask me. If you ask me—and this is my personal opinion—I would like to see a big-titted lady pulling and sucking on a hound dog’s cock. Just doing the nasty on him 24/7. Oooooh, I’d paid good money to see that. But, I digress. If you were in my position, you would understand me and not treat me like some lunatic. You would understand when I tell you I am indecisive and not sure what to choose from this godforsaken menu. What the feck is this? 10 Times New Roman? Couldn’t you make it any bigger and bolder, like a great marquee? Does everything have to be minimal these days?! Listen, I was too busy paying attention to that movie trailer showing on that TV box over there, that you have playing on that television box behind you. You know that picture, the one about this fat woman and her ugly, shocking makeup, shanking folks to death if they got near her and what not. I’m sorry that I wasn’t paying attention to you, sweetie. I guess that stupid trailer and the option of choosing popcorn over soda, and soda over popcorn, and what not, has got me flummoxed like some damn teenager. I mean, there are so many choices to choose from and so little time I have in this line talking/arguing with you.”
“Look, LADY, PICK SOMETHING! YOU’RE HOLDING UP THE LINE!”
“Nonsense, we are just getting started, honey. Why, all these vulgarities you’ve been throwing at me makes me want to stay longer and chat with you even more. Why shouldn’t I stay and have a heart-to-heart with my verbal abuser? I am fond of you, taking a liking to your obscenities, baby.”
“What the hell?”
“Yes, like that! Give it to me, honey, give me your cheap shots. Make me feel cheap like you do to other folks. Oh…you want me to pull my skirt down so you can exhibit my rundown insides, do ya?”
“NOOOOOOOO!!!! That is not what I want!”
“Listen-listen-listen here honey, it’s okay if that is what you want, I ain’t gonna throw stones at you? You want this old pussy all to yourself? Do you? I ain’t afraid to do it, honey. Why, I can rip my blouse off and expose these old tits to you, showing you that I mean business and that I want you all to myself. I’ll even let you suckle my dried-up udders, drink my spoiled milk. You’ll be feeling good about yourself once you’ve had a taste of my insides in that sweet pink plump mouth of yours.”
“It’s much worse than I thought. You’re not just retarded. You’re INSANE!”
“Insane for you, baby. I want you all to myself. I want your moist lips suckling my tits. Drink me off. Have all of me in you, just like you gave me your wrath of vulgarities. I want you to receive it back. I think it’s fair for me to do that. DON’T YOU AGREE, FOLKS! DON’T YOU AGREE THAT THIS BEAUTIFUL GAL WITH HER EXTRAORDINARY VOCABULARY SHOULD HAVE A TASTE OF MY SPOILED MILK IN HER MOUTH, HAVING A PIECE OF ME IN HER?!”
“GET OUT OF THE LINE, HAG! YEAH, GO TROLL SOME OTHER PLACE! YOU AIN’T WANTED HERE! LEAVE! YEAH, FECK OFF, GRANDMA! GO BACK TO YOUR BRIDGE CLUB! GRANNY ON THE LOOSE, GRANNY ON THE LOOSE!”
“WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN TO ME. I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT?! I AM A PAYING CUSTOMER HERE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! DON’T I HAVE THE RIGHT TO STAND HERE AND ORDER MY BUCKET OF POPCORN AND TALL GLASS OF PEPSI CHERRY OR DR. PEPPER?! HELL, IF POPCORN DOESN’T SUIT MY FANCY, I’D SWITCH IT FOR A FOOTLONG POLISH HOT DOG WITH MUSTARD, MAYO, KETCHUP, AND OOOH…SOME GRILLED CARAMELIZED ONIONS ON TOP. OOOOH GOD, MAKES ME CHAFE IN MY PANTS AS WE SPEAK!”
“FUCKING GROSS, LADY!”
“I JUST WANT TO PAY FOR MY MEAL AND BE ON MY WAY TO SEE THIS HORROR PICTURE PLAYING TONIGHT!”
“Yes, pay and be on your way, please!”
“Fine, you no-fun fecker. I suppose I’ll have the polish dog and the large cup of Pepsi Cherry soda pop, please.”
“Would that be all?”
“Hold on, now, give me some time, pleeease!”
“Well?”
“I suppose I’ll have a slice of your nipples and a small cup of your pussy juice to drink it down with. I know that is not on the menu.”
“Alright, you’re done, lady. GET THIS BITCH OUT OF HERE! YOU’RE DONE. YOU ARE FINISHED! GET HER OUTTA HERE! GET OUT, ARSEHOLE! GET OUT! YOU ARE NOTHING AT ALL! NOTHING! I’LL BE WAITING FOR YOU AT THE LOT, TEN O’CLOCK, DON’T BE LATE! GET OUT! AS IF I AM GONNA STEP LOW TO FIGHT AN OLD HAG LIKE YOU! I AIN’T NO PUSSY ASS PUNK BITCH! I AM GONNA FECK YOU UP, YA HEAR!”
Martha pulls a pistol from her little old lady purse, shouts: “EVERYBODY RUN OR I AM GONNA BLOW YOUR FECKING HEADS OFF!!! RUN MUTHERFECKER RUUUUUNN!!!!!”
And then: BANG-BANG-BANG! Shoots the gal at the concession stand in the head and then another: BANG! “TAKE THAT, BITCH! TAKE IT! YOU THOUGHT I WAS A PUNK BITCH, DID YA?!” Blood gushing and splattering on the walls and on the popcorn.
Everybody in line scatters out of the movie house like cock-roaches: “OH DEAR GOD! RUN-RUN-RUN! GRANNY’S GOT A GUN! THIS OLD HAG HAS GONE CRAZY! LOONIE-TOON! LORT, HELP US ALL!!!!”
And another: BANG! AND ANOTHER: “YOU MESSIN’ WITH THE WRONG ONE, BITCH! FROM THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TRACKS, THE OUTSKIRTS OF GARDENA, AND WHERE I AM FROM WE DON’T FECK ‘ROUND!”
Shot her some more in the head and then on her chest and then her mouth and then her privates to the point where she was unrecognizable. Boy, oh boy, it was a live execution of the finest of the fine, at the movie house. Who woulda thought that Martha—the old lady here—would be the executioner for the night.
“CALL THE PRESS. TELL EM TO COME OVER HERE BECAUSE: MARTHA HAS GOT A GUN! EAT YOUR HEART OUT, DIVINE! MARTHA HAS GOT A GUN!”
And once she was done taking care of business, Martha blew off the smoke from her pistol and then jumped and jolted for joy! Celebrating the death of this low-life scum. No individual will disrespect her anymore.
“HOORAY-HOORAY, THE DOUCHE IS DEAD! THE DOUCHE IS DEAD! GOLLY, WHAT A CELEBRATION!”
Before she could even jolt: an army of policemen comes, aims their guns at her, bursting her celebratory bubbles. Rats, she has been cornered!
“DON’T MOVE! DON’T YOU FUCKING MOVE! STAY WHERE I CAN SEE YOU! DON’T YOU DARE MOVE!”
Martha turns around and sees an army of these hard-body policemen aiming their guns at her.
“Look…I didn’t mean to do it, she…she…pushed me off the edge, and I just saw red! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to see a movie, that is all. Let me explain. I just wanted to see a movie. You’d understand me if you were in my shoes…would you?”
And before the police could say anything or do anything, she turns the pistol onto herself and BANG! blows her brains out.
And—
“LADY! LADY! LADY! WAKE UP! ARE YOU GONNA ORDER OR WHAT?!”
“Oh?!”
Martha is back in line speaking to the douchebag gal at the concession stand.
“Golly, was it all a daydream? DID I WENT TO HELL? OH MY GOD, NOOOO!!!!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I am sorry, sweetness, I suppose…I…I spaced out there. I didn’t mean to hold up a line here. I was just thrown off balance—off my rockers, I suppose—I just don’t know what to get here, forgive me.”
“Listen, ma’am, I understand we all go a little mad sometimes (Is this gal really quoting Psycho right now, while ol’ Martha is having an existential crisis?) and so does my grandmama, and she gets a little senile from time to time, and I have a number from St. Anthony’s Asylum if you would like me to give it to you?”
“WELL I AM NOT YOUR REGULAR APPLE-PIE GRANDMA, AND I AM NOT DEMENTED EITHER, AND I CERTAINLY DON’T NEED NO PSYCHIATRIC HELP, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I just lost track here, ya know. We lose our place from time to time, but that doesn’t make us crazy. I just had a bad Wednesdee, that’s all.”
“Oh no, I didn’t mean to overstep here.”
“That’s fine, ring me up. I’ll pay for whatever and be on my way.”
“Alright, then.”
“God, speed it up here. I don’t have all night, ya know.”
Yup, a regular Wednesdee night at the cinema.