Spankenstein

by Tim Miller

  Spankenstein

  Tim Miller

  Copyright © 2016 Tim Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The following is a work of fiction. Any representation of any actual persons living or dead is coincidental.

  Cover image provided by Martini Productions

  Photographer: Tom O’Brien

  Models: Tom O’Brien and Jessica Mazo

  Chapter 1

  Donny Spanks sat in front of the TV, watching the actress closely. This was his favorite show, but only because of her. The show was called, 'Criminal Brain.' It was a bunch of secret government agents solving the most heinous of crimes. The lead actress' name was Candi Murphy. She was everything he dreamed of. Long, perfect blonde hair, full luscious lips and a body that wouldn't quit. Donny made sure he was in front of the TV any time it came on. He'd even lost a few jobs over his obsession, but none of that fazed him. He couldn't get enough of her.

  She was the perfect woman in every way possible. As he watched, he wondered if he could ever meet her. If he did, would she be interested in him? Would he stand a chance? During the commercial, he stepped into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Taking his shirt off, he scanned his whole body. No way would she want him. He was short, skinny; scratch that, way too skinny and so pale he was almost transparent. His hairline was receding and his chest hair came out in random patches. No girl had ever found him remotely appealing.

  This fact got him thinking. He'd worked in the medical field for years as an operating room technician. It was a great job. Well, several jobs. He bounced around from hospital to hospital before he finally ran out of places that would hire him. His awkwardness, along with his tendency to daydream, made most employers uncomfortable. Turns out, surgeons like you to be paying attention when they need a set of clamps during open heart surgery.

  So here he was, an unemployed and unemployable surgical technician. He'd seen so many surgeries he felt like he could perform one himself. Over the years, he'd accumulated a lot of instruments and had saved lots of money. One of the side effects of being single for so long with no children. His jobs paid well, and he never spent much.

  He went back and watched the TV again to see Candi some more. Once the show was over, he decided to head out and have a beer. Sitting around the empty house all night drove him crazy. He got dressed, got in his car, and headed to a nearby pub. It was an old bar that he used to frequent more regularly. He didn't get out as much anymore, but maybe it was time to start. Once inside, he sat at the bar and ordered a Coors Light.

  As he sipped on his beer, he noticed there were lots of women in the pub; he didn't remember so many girls in this place before. They were there in groups, hanging out and listening to the jukebox. That was when he saw her. No way was it Candi Murphy; she lived in Los Angeles. Doubtful she'd ever hung out in a dive bar in San Antonio, Texas. The woman stood out among the rest of the girls. Partly because most of the girls were Hispanic. That wasn't unusual. Most of San Antonio was Hispanic.

  A blonde haired, blue eyed angel like her stood out even more so than normal. Donny stood and walked casually past her, pretending to look at the jukebox. He was trying not to stare, but she gave him an uncomfortable smile as he walked by. It wasn't Candi; he was sure that Candy had fuller lips and a dimple on her chin. Either way, the resemblance was uncanny. Maybe she'd be interested in him. Now wouldn't that be something; making love to this beautiful woman and pretending she was Candi. It would be the next best thing, at least.

  He went back to the bar and sat sipping his beer. He began drinking it faster as he felt the tingling in his brain. Ordering another, he quickly downed that one as his buzz grew stronger. As hard as he tried not to stare, he couldn't help himself. He could tell she saw him; every time he looked over, she was looking away. Finally, she got up and walked out. Fuck! Normally, he would sit and pout that he’d blown another one; but the beer seemed to grow his testicles, and poof, he had balls. At best, he wanted to apologize to her for staring and acting like a weirdo.

  He jumped up from the stool and headed out the door. She was there, in the parking lot, walking by herself to her car. She'd been sitting with two other girls, but they must have arrived separately. Slowly, he walked up behind her until he was a few feet away.

  "Umm, excuse me," he said.

  She jumped and turned around.

  "What the hell? Are you following me to my car? What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "I-I'm sorry. I was just…"

  "Just what? Wasn't bad enough you kept staring at me in there like some creepy asshole. Now you're following me? For what? What do you want?"

  "I just wanted to apologize. I'm sorry for staring in there. I don't get out much."

  "Yeah, that's pretty obvious."

  The conversation wasn't going how he'd pictured it at all. In his mind, she would smile at and welcome his apology and maybe strike up a nice conversation. Now, he was just freaking her out even more.

  "I'm sorry. I know I'm weird. I just think you're a pretty lady," he said as he turned and began to walk away.

  "Hey," she called out. "I didn't mean to be such a bitch. I just had no idea what you were doing or why you followed me to my car. For future reference, don't do that. It's weird as hell."

  He couldn't help but smile at her softened tone.

  "Really? Thank you!" he turned and smiled at her.

  "No problem. Try to have a better night. I need to go anyway."

  "Oh, yeah sure." At this point, he wasn't sure what came over him. She was so beautiful, and the fact that she suddenly was being nice to him flipped a switch in his brain. The beer obviously didn't help, but it was as if something came over him that he couldn't control. At least, he didn't want to control it. He took a few steps forward and put his arms out.

  "Could I have a hug?" he asked as she stepped back and screamed.

  "What the hell! Get away!" she took another step back before kicking him in the dick. As he doubled over, she pulled a can of mace from her purse and sprayed it into his face and mouth. His eyes and tongue burned as he fell to the ground. She got into the car and sped away, kicking dirt and rocks onto Donny's burning face. As he lay there, writhing in pain and crying, rage began to fill him. It was time for him to face the facts. No woman would ever want him. He was too ugly and weird. Perhaps there was another way for him to obtain the perfect girl.

  Chapter 2

  Jessica Johnson sat in her car waiting for the light to change. When the light finally turned green, the car in front of her continued to sit. She honked her horn and banged on the wheel.

  “Come on fuckwad! Go!” she screamed. Finally, the guy snapped out of whatever he was doing and began to move. She sped around him first chance she got and darted through traffic until she made it to the studio. Her call time was ten minutes ago. She just hoped they’d be understanding. She threw the car into park and ran inside.

  “You’re late!” Domingo shouted. He was the director of the commercial shoot. It had been three months since she’d had a paying gig. Film work in San Antonio wasn’t exactly booming, not that it ever was. She occasionally got work in Austin or Dallas, but her line of work in Texas was drying up completely. Atlanta was fast becoming the new hot spot. She just didn’t have the money, or courage, to move just yet. As it was, she really needed this job. It should have been easy. A few hundred dollars for a couple of days on set was all she got for this grocery store commercial.
Except, as usual, her world had to go to hell that morning.

  It started with dropping her phone in the toilet as she was getting ready. Then her landlord caught her as she was leaving and blocked the doorway so she couldn’t move, trying to shake her down for rent. That wasted ten minutes of her life. Then, of course, there was traffic. There was some light rain that morning. In San Antonio, light rain means everyone has to drive ten miles per hour for fear they may just fly off the surface of the earth.

  “Why are you late?” Domingo asked.

  “I’m sorry. Had a shit morning.”

  “A shit morning?! That’s funny! That is really funny! You know why? I had a shit morning too! I’ve been sitting here waiting for for our actress to grace us with her presence! I mean, it doesn’t cost anything to rent equipment or pay for all the other souls here, now does it?”

  “All right. I get it. Do you want me to work or am I fired?”

  “May as well do this. Go and get ready. You have two minutes!”

  She went to the makeup chair where they fluffed her hair and did her makeup. Finally, she went over and for the next several hours, they did take after take of the commercial. Once Domingo was happy, almost eight hours later, they called it a day. She headed to her car, thankful that she would, at the very least, get paid for this gig. What she wasn’t looking forward to was her agent screaming at her about being late. She’d already blown two previous jobs. If she blew another, her agent just might drop her.

  Some days she wondered if it wasn’t time to get a day job. The mere thought of a “normal” job made her head want to explode. She couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life, punching a clock and doing some mundane task over and over for eight hours. She’d rather stab herself in the eye with a blunted spoon. The acting thing sure wasn’t getting anywhere. She would be thirty in a few months. After almost ten years of acting, the best she had gotten was some commercials and a few indie movies that were deferred pay. In her case, deferred pay meant no pay. One micro-budget film she worked on, the guy shot on his cell phone.

  It was a cheesy slasher movie. Her character had to run around topless until she was repeatedly stabbed. She was one of the main characters, and her top had gotten ripped off early in the film. So for the rest of the movie, she ran around with her boobs bouncing about. To this day, she had no idea why she’d agreed to that. At least she had been paid for that film. It was only two hundred dollars, but it was something. The movie was one of those straight-to-DVD bargain bin specials. She never saw the final product and didn’t care to.

  Jessica reached her car, climbed in, and started the engine. Once back at her apartment, she made a beeline to the bathroom and washed her makeup off. After she had removed the cake residue that was called makeup, she slipped into her pajama pants and turned on the TV. As she sat and watched, there was a knock on the door. She had no idea who the hell would be banging on her door as no one ever came to visit. So it had to be a salesman or her landlord, and she had no desire to speak to either one.

  She didn’t get up, hoping they’d go away. After five minutes of non-stop knocking, she got up and opened the door. A short, skinny guy stood there looking like she just killed his puppy.

  “Can I help you?” she asked

  “Um, hi. Sorry to bother you. My name is...um…Donny. I’m just... uhh... I’m doing a survey for a women’s clothing company.” The man was awkward as hell and was holding a clipboard.

  “Survey? What the hell kind of survey?”

  “Just…um…information on what women like to wear. Like what size do you consider yourself? Or what build? Medium? Large? Small?”

  “Do I look like a fucking large? Try small.”

  “Ok sorry,” he said as he scribbled on his clipboard. “Who shops for women’s clothing in your household. You or your husband?”

  “What the fuck? How many guys buy their wives’ clothes? Besides, I’m not married, and I dress myself. So yeah. I do the shopping. Any other brilliant questions?”

  “Well…I…” he began, but she slammed the door in his face and sat back on the couch before he could finish. Whoever hired that clown to be a door to door survey taker should have been shot. What clothing company sends people door to door like that anymore anyway? She flipped her movie back on and within minutes she’d forgotten all about the strange man who was just at her door.

  Chapter 3

  Donny walked away from the woman’s apartment and back to his car. He tossed the clipboard onto the seat and sat down. Normally someone blaring their horn at him in traffic and cutting him off would piss him off. He was pissed until he got a look at the woman. She was stunning. She looked exactly like Candi Murphy. Well, mostly. Following her to work and waiting all day to follow her home took more time than he’d expected but it was worth it for a closer look at her.

  Her face and hair sure looked like Candi’s. Her body was thinner and not as curvy. He could work with that at least. The problem was, he needed a plan. This girl was a serious firecracker. If he weirded her out too soon or messed things up around her, that would be a quick end to his quest. No, he needed to be more organized. First thing, he’d never abducted a girl before. He had, however, seen all six seasons of “Criminal Brains.” Guys kidnap women on there all the time. How hard could it be?

  He stopped at the farm supply store on the north side of town. There they carried all sorts of agricultural supplies and items. Chloroform was sometimes used as a pesticide. He was able to find it easy enough. Except it came in a huge jug. He only needed a little but if all he could get was a jug that would have to do. Donny paid cash to avoid the paper trail, like the bad guys on Criminal Brains often did. Once he finished up at the store, he stopped at a drug store and picked up latex gloves, an apron, gauze and duct tape. He also grabbed some snacks and a couple of Red Bulls to get him through his first ever stakeout. The whole thing felt extremely thrilling to him. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t watching others do exciting things; he was actually the one doing them!

  From there, he was ready for his trial run. Timing was everything, and by the time he was finished running his errands, it was already fairly late. He cruised around some of the bars until he found a nice little hole in the wall on the west side. It was a strip club called The Chesty Chola. He’d driven past it a few times but never bothered to go inside. It would be a while yet, so he got comfortable as he waited for them to close.

  Several hours later, they did close, and people started filing out. He waited, but the girls who did come out had a guy with them. This may have been a waste of his time. It didn’t occur to him security might just escort all the strippers out. So he waited some more until finally one came out alone. This was a tiny Hispanic girl. With her huge breasts and high heels, she looked as if she could topple over at any minute. He put on his gloves and watched her walk to her car while digging for her keys. Donny took the bottle of chloroform and poured some onto the gauze. He wasn’t sure how much he’d need to knock her out, so he made sure it was good and saturated. Chemical spilled onto his hand and the floor as he poured. As she fumbled for her keys, he waited for the perfect moment to spring on her.

  Impatiently waiting, he couldn’t help but notice how strong the chloroform fumes were. He felt lightheaded as he rolled down the window to try and get some fresh air. His head began to hurt as his eyes grew heavy. Shit. He’d put too much on the gauze. He didn’t think the stuff was that strong. Donny opened the car door and stumbled out of the car. He made his way to the girl who saw him immediately.

  “Hey! What are you doing? Go home you drunk ass!” she yelled as he stumbled toward her. He was determined to accomplish his mission, though. In his determination, he just started to realize how much the chloroform had messed him up. He must have looked like a drunken slob to her as he staggered. Oh well, it was too late to turn back now. Still fumbling, he reached up and grabbed her or, at least, made a hearty attempt, but his hands just sort of flopped around her shoulders. Sh
e pushed him away, screamed and took out a can of pepper spray. Before he could tell what she had, he felt the pain of the liquid fire on his face.

  Immediately his eyes and face began to burn. It felt like there was an inferno ravishing his face. His jaw dropped when the first seconds of spray nailed his face, sending the noxious chemical into his mouth and igniting his tongue and throat. He flopped onto the hood of her car. She pushed him away as she reared back and kicked him square in the dick. This dick kick caused immediate amnesia from the fiery horror on his face and shifted sole focus to his balls, which currently felt as if they’d been launched into his abdomen. He doubled over and fell to the ground as the girl jumped into her car, started the engine and sped off, closely missing his body.

  He lay there in such unimaginable agony, as his entire body throbbed. His limbs began to feel heavy as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. Donny tried to sit up in a failing effort to get off the ground, but he couldn’t force himself to move no matter how hard he tried. His head began to feel so heavy, and his eyes just wouldn't open. He made one last attempt to move, but the effort was too much. This whole thing felt like a bad idea. Jesus, what had gone wrong? He’d seen this on TV enough it should have gone seamlessly. Perhaps he should familiarize himself more with the chloroform before using it. The thoughts faded as he lay on the pavement for a few more minutes before everything went black.

  Chapter 4

  “Hey, sunshine! You awake? Wake up buddy!” the man yelled. Donny thought he was dreaming; then it occurred to him he wasn’t at home or even in bed. He snapped awake to find he was lying face down in the parking lot of the Chesty Chola. It was daylight, and the place was empty except for the police officer tapping him on the shoulder with his baton. Donny’s vision was hazy, and he felt like someone just ran over his head with a bulldozer. His memory of how he got there was in bits and pieces, but he began to remember. The cop continued talking to him.