Squid Pulp Blues

by Jordan Krall

  Harry drove away, circling the strip mall until he saw the longhead get distracted by a small, one-legged seagull. The animal was hopping around, tearing off pieces of a Twinkie while the longhead watched in obvious delight. Then he put the razor away and got down on his knees. He grabbed the Twinkie away from the bird and started eating it. Stale cream soon streaked his face and Harry looked away in disgust.

  Fucking freak.

  Chapter Eight

  Simon wasn’t about to explain the whole situation to Peter and Scott even though he knew they were curious as to what the tall guy was talking to him about. He didn’t want to discuss it, though, at least not with them.

  Toward the end of the signing, the crowd dwindled and Simon managed to leave a few minutes early.

  “I hope you don’t mind, guys,” he said, hoping that they wouldn’t ask him to stay to watch a movie or read some more Turkish comics.

  Scott said, “No, it’s okay, man but you sure you don’t want to stay, hang out a bit or something?”

  “I really gotta go, I’m supposed to meet somebody.”

  Peter came up from behind him and said, “Before you go, you gotta see this.” He shoved a statuette in Simon’s face.

  “What is it?” Simon said. The statuette was a half a foot tall and looked like a cross between a squid and a donkey.

  “It’s my version of Little Bing Bong from issue number sixty-three. I had it custom made. You like it? I saved this for last. Scott said I should show it to you right away but I wanted to make it a surprise.”

  “Wow,” Simon said. “It’s pretty cool.” He actually sort of liked it but was feeling uncomfortable with the two of them grinning like horny freshmen.

  “You can have it if you want. I was thinking about asking you to sign it so I can sell it in the store but I thought you might not be cool with that. So you can have it if you want.”

  What the hell am I supposed to say? If I say no I look like a dick and they tell all their comic friends and then it’s “Simon Palmer is a big, stuck-up asshole who doesn’t appreciate the fans.” Yeah, that’s all I need.

  Simon said, “Sure, that’s awesome. I’d love to have this. Thanks a lot.” He took the statuette, looking at it again to appease Scott and Peter. It was extremely heavy and that surprised Simon who thought it looked hollow.

  The two of them kept smiling and looked pleased that Simon had accepted their gift. Then he took them up on their offer to help load the extra comics into his car.

  “Just put them in the backseat, guys,” Simon said when they outside. They loaded the boxes and said their goodbyes.

  Simon started his car and leaned his head back. He was more than simply relieved that the day was over but now he had to deal with the whole envelope business.

  What’re the chances that the guy’s gonna spot me in my car? No way. He doesn’t know what car I drive.

  He pulled out of the parking lot, intent on driving around town. Though he had only been the Thompson once before, Simon felt a connection with it. The town was a relic and he felt at home in its sleazy arms. As he drove he kept seeing signs for St. Stanley’s Carnival.

  There’s a church named after a saint named Stanley? Are they kidding?

  Considering that the plans with Chaps had gone down the drain, Simon decided to follow the signs to the carnival.

  Ah, what the hell.

  Then maybe, just maybe, he’d go to the police and tell them the envelope story though he wasn’t too sure they’d believe him.

  * * *

  Liam had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the radio when Henry pointed to the sign and said, “Hey, the carnival. Let’s go.”

  Liam turned down the music. “What?”

  “Let’s go to the carnival, I heard there’s some fucked up shit goes on there.” Henry bobbed his head and thought of the stories he had heard about St. Stanley’s annual carnival. The clandestine booths that weren’t visible to the casual attendee.

  Liam said, “I thought you didn’t have any money.”

  “I don’t but I still wanna take a look.”

  “Let me guess; you’re going to ask me for cash. Am I right?”

  “Oh, come on, don’t be a dick.” Henry saw another sign for the carnival and noticed a longhead standing at a bus stop holding a turtle.

  Liam said, “We’ll stop by but I don’t want to stay long, okay?”

  “Dude, listen,” Henry said. “I heard there’s a woman behind the hot dog stand who’ll blow you for five bucks and get this, she doesn’t have any teeth. You believe that? But she’s hot, I mean, not like she’s old or a junkie or anything. She’s fucking hot but has no teeth.”

  “And apparently no idea what a blowjob is worth nowadays.”

  Henry laughed. “Someone also told me, wait, yeah I think it was Billy Roanoke, he told me that there’s this black girl with the biggest ass you’ve ever seen who sits on you face and if you can stand it for more than three minutes, you win a prize. Thing is, get this, she’ll only sit on a white guy’s face. I think she wants to show all the white boys what a strong black woman can do.”

  “What the fuck kind of carnival is this, anyway?”

  “Nah, the shit I’m telling you only happens in the back, behind the regular booths and tents and shit. You gotta know the right people, grease some palms and then you get access.”

  “So I gotta pay a bunch of people to have a black girl sit on my face? I can get that for free, you know.”

  Henry said, “Okay, you’re missing the point. It’s the atmosphere, the excitement, the whole carnival environment. I think they also have a booth where you can throw pies at longheads.”

  “That’s fucked up, Hank, I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Yeah, I know, I’m just telling you the shit that’s there.”

  Liam said, “Wait. You are going to ask me for money, aren’t you? You’re gonna see that big black girl and you’re gonna tell me how she’s waving you over and taunting you and shit and you’re gonna beg me for money, just admit it.”

  “What?” Henry said, trying to sound insulted. Then he said, “Okay, fine, yeah, I’ll admit it, okay, I’m getting down on my knees, dear old pal, and asking will you please lend me some money when we get the carnival?”

  Liam said, “I lend you money you better stay under that ass for three whole minutes.”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Harry smiled as he watched that Palmer guy get into his car. It was perfect; he had been right about the Pennsylvania plates. Though he didn’t consider himself a genius, Harry always knew he was pretty good at figuring things out.

  He followed Simon out of the parking lot and kept at a distance, not wanting to alert the guy too soon that he was being followed. That would come in time, he thought.

  Gotta wait for the perfect time and then BOOM, “Hey asshole, look in your trunk.” Maybe I’ll threaten to call the cops or tell him I already did. That’d really make the guy freak out, a pussy like that would probably start crying, shit. That’s gonna be hilarious.

  Harry followed him for a few miles and then saw Simon turn onto Main Street. They kept going until they passed the banner that announced, “St. Stanley’s Carnival Parking - Use Lot Across the Street”. Simon pulled into the lot and parked on the grass. Harry pulled in right next to him.

  He watched as the guy got out of the car and as soon as he was walking away, Harry got out and said, “Hey.”

  Simon turned around but said nothing.

  Harry said, “Hey asshole. Look in your trunk.” He was relishing the look on the guy’s face. It was what he was waiting for.

  Still, Simon didn’t say anything nor did he move. Harry walked around his car and went over to Simon’s. He sent a fist through the driver’s side window. Though it hurt like hell, he made no outside indication of pain. Harry always liked to keep up appearances.

  He reached inside and pulled the level that popped the trunk but it didn’t open.


  Motherfucker.

  Harry said, “Something’s wrong with your trunk.” He motioned for Simon to come over. “Don’t worry, I’ll back up. Just go ahead and open your trunk.”

  True to his word, he backed up a few feet until Simon started walking toward the trunk. Harry was happy; the guy still looked scared shitless as he grabbed a hold of the trunk and lifted it. His face became pale and he screamed.

  Harry laughed and walked closer to the trunk. He looked into it and then stopped, the smile on his face disappearing.

  Then a strange voice behind him said, “Hey, do you know who I am?”

  Chapter Nine

  When Chris heard voices outside, he unlocked the door and left the portable toilet.

  He knew he looked like shit, figuratively and literally but he wasn’t too concerned. His first priority was finding someone he recognized. As he made his way into the middle of the carnival, he saw only strangers. He took a look at the attractions, at the Kiss the Squid booth, the mirrored funhouse, and the Take Your Picture with a Barbara Stanwyck Look-a-Like booth. They all looked like they’d be fun if he was in the right state of mind to enjoy them.

  God, I just feel like giving up already. Fuck it.

  Chris forced his body to zombie-walk through the crowd that was getting thicker by the moment. The smell of hotdogs, pizza, deep-fried Twinkies, and roasted cashews made him nauseous. He had to get out there but as he walked towards the exit, a middle-aged woman in a business suit tapped him on the shoulder.

  She said, “Hi sir, would you mind taking a five-minute survey?”

  “Who? Me? What’re you talking about?”

  “A survey, sir, a five-minute survey about your satisfaction with your current choice of car insurance.” Her mammoth breasts were barely held back by her blouse and Chris noticed this immediately. His eyes were entranced as he shook his head.

  “No thank you, I gotta go.”

  She wouldn’t give up. “Sir, it’ll only take five-minutes but if you can’t do that now, I understand. Here, let me give you my business card and if at a later date….”

  Chris tripped over his own feet as he stumbled away from the woman. He liked her breasts, sure, but her bullshit was unbearable. Besides, he had to figure things out.

  He walked out of the carnival and across the street to grass field that doubled as a parking lot. As he walked through the grass he noticed something. There were huge teeth scattered on the ground and when he went to pick one up, he saw that they all looked freshly torn as if some crazed dentist went ballistic in the parking lot.

  God, am I losing it?

  Then he heard a child’s voice in the distance. “Look, mommy, teeth!”

  Chris dropped the wet tooth he was holding and continued walking through the parking lot. Up ahead he saw two guys standing near a car. One of them he recognized.

  Yeah, I know that guy or at least I know his face.

  He quickly walked up but stopped when the other guy screamed. Then Chris said to the man he might know, “Hey, do you know who I am?”

  The guy turned around and gave a startled look that soon turned into one of horror as something jumped out of the trunk.

  It was a donkey covered in what looked like phlegm.

  Then Chris remembered.

  Harry. That’s my name? Is my name Harry? Is that his name?

  Chris said, “Harry?” as the donkey jumped around the car, bumping it with its wet head, leaving a sloppy trail on the paint. Harry was petrified and the other guy fell to the ground. Chris was oblivious to the donkey and when it hit him in the abdomen, he barely felt it.

  The donkey’s head went clear through Chris and stuck out of his back. Entrails and squid-parts splattered out of Chris and onto the donkey. Blood pumped out of Chris’s busted body as he was carried along with the animal.

  Harry watched as the donkey danced around, its head sticking out of Chris’s back, galloping around the parking lot in a bloody celebration. The stringy intestines and squid-guts that hung out of Chris looked alive and when Harry looked closely, he could’ve sworn he saw some of those parts move on their own. It was as if the whole thing was some sort of donkey-squid-human monstrosity.

  The donkey made a loud hee-haw and ran off into the carnival where it was met by screams of confusion, horror, and stunned curiosity. Harry got up from the ground and looked to see if anything was visible from where he stood.

  Simon got up from the ground, unknowingly holding a handful of teeth he had picked up while he clutched the ground in terror. He dropped the teeth and ran to the front seat of his car.

  Harry grabbed his arm. “No, you don’t.”

  Despite what he had just witnessed, he wasn’t about to let this guy Palmer get away with taking the envelope. Donkey or no donkey, he wasn’t done with this asshole.

  Simon made a fist.

  Harry laughed and said, “You fucking pussy, just give me the fucking envelope.”

  He stopped laughing when Simon punched him in the nose.

  Harry said, “Don’t do that,” and then got punched again. He was about to pull out his six-inch blade when he saw the longhead standing next to the car by the passenger side window. Harry said, “What the fuck?”

  Then there was a warm flash of white light and the sound of something cracking. He realized that it was the sound of his skull splitting like an egg.

  Harry saw that donkey-squid thing again but this time it was smaller, almost cartoonish. It looked liked a miniature version of what had hopped out of the trunk.

  Simon raised the statuette and hit him in the head again. Then again. And again. Harry’s brains were slowly leaking out of his head and onto the front seat as well as onto Simon’s pants.

  As Harry died he thought about who would take care of Smitty, his squid. Maybe Keith will take him, I hope so. He always seemed to like Smitty.

  Then he looked at Simon.

  I guess the guy wasn’t such a fucking pussy after all.

  Simon dropped the statuette onto the floor and put his head back. He stared upside down through the window at the longhead and watched as a straight razor tapped against the window.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Simon said, exhausted.

  The longhead walked away.

  Chapter Ten

  Henry couldn’t breathe.

  Both the denim and heat were almost unbearable and he couldn’t believe he had paid money to do to do this. At first it was arousing, Bonnie in her tight jeans, putting her entire weight on his face. But then it got too much for him.

  Liam stood a few feet away along with the rest of the small crowd of men waiting to have their chance with Bonnie. He said, “You had enough, buddy? You want me to go get the lady a magazine or something?”

  Henry was on his back with the voluptuous Bonnie sitting on his face, smothering him with her ass. He didn’t answer Liam but instead reached his arms up to tap Bonnie on the shoulders, the agreed-upon gesture that would signal that he had had enough.

  “Nah, honey, you’re so cocky, tellin’ me how you gonna stay under there for an hour, well that’s what you’re gonna do,” Bonnie said, laughing and bouncing her rump up and down.

  Liam was just about to walk over and taunt Henry some more when something ran into the tent. It was a blur at first and then he saw what it was. Though it looked like a wet donkey, there were tentacles hanging off of it along with the flapping remains of a human body. The human head bobbed up and down and Liam thought he recognized the face but didn’t stare at it long enough to make sure.

  Bonnie jumped off of Henry, kneeing him in the crotch in the process. She ran out of the tent screaming along with the rest of the crowd.

  Only Liam and Henry remained in the tent with the donkey-thing.

  Intestines and tentacles were entwined like gory vines and Liam thought he saw the head of a squid below the donkey’s jaw. Whatever it was, it was moving on its own, bouncing to its own rhythm as the animal galloped around the two of them, leaving a t
rail of sticky goo. Henry was still on his back, holding his sore crotch and looking at Liam.

  “Are you seeing this? Is this real?” Henry said, getting up to his knees.

  “I don’t know. I guess so,” Liam said, “But I don’t know.”

  The thing stopped and looked at Liam. From the way it had barged in and ran around madly, he had expected the eyes to be sinister but they were almost human and even looked friendly. Then the squid-head flopped around and dropped to the ground, sliding on the trail of goo that the donkey had left behind.

  Liam’s and Henry’s eyes met and they both shook their heads simultaneously. They darted out of the tent like terrified bullets, almost slipping but successfully making it outside where they saw a crowd of longheads standing around eating deep fried Twinkies.

  “Let’s get the fuck out,” Henry said. As he ran through the carnival, he thought he could still smell Bonnie’s ass though he knew it was probably just the aroma of hotdogs and gyros in the air. Still, his face felt like it was still being punished by denim as he dodged the frantic crowd that was just getting over seeing the donkey-thing run past them.

  In Bonnie’s tent, Little Bing Bong shook off Chris’s body and watched it fall to the ground in pieces. He felt sorry for whoever it was though he lacked the appropriate human understanding to follow through on that sorrow. Little Bing Bong, in his own little donkey way, said goodbye to the squid-head and watched it grow more tentacles and slide off out of the tent. Then he did the same.

  Outside the tent, the longheads looked at the donkey, covered in sloppy entrails, blood, and sticky wetness, and felt pity. One by one, they came by to pet the beast, wiping it clean of its filth. Behind them, the “normal” citizens of Thompson came up and, ignoring their general fear of the longheads, did the same. They rubbed Little Bing Bong until he burst into donkey laughter, his feet stomping gently in a slow spasm of joy.