Woody Allen Makes A Scary Sandwich - Horror Pastiche, Stories & Poems

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Woody Allen Makes A Scary Sandwich - Horror Pastiche, Stories & Poems Page 19

by Karen S. Cole

“I vas not koink to rezt until every Chew in de voild vas DEAT!!! Dis iz in de Bible. I was goink to fulfill God’s prophezy about de Chews.” He sighed. “Dot iz not to be !”

  “Yup, you really did fail. But if you meant to attract the U.S. over there, you succeeded. After you killed all those poor innocent people in the death camps. You must have known…”

  Going back, they didn’t encounter Hess, although Jeannie half expected to. She wondered if that last magic spell had brought him there. What would World War II do without Hitler and Hess?

  They swung by a Safeway. That really blew out Hitler’s head-lights. He strode around in the place as though he’d just bought it, gawking at everything and feeling up the funny groceries.

  “I yom FOT, but chu Americenz most be OBASE !!!” Yeah, some people are, Jeannie thought to herself as she guided her weirdly assertive charge through some gaping shoppers. They must’ve thought he was a publicity stunt for a movie. One lady dropped all her groceries at him; he bowed deeply and picked them all up.

  “I yom zo heppy chu raimember our Nazi movement mit dis vine ztore. Iz dere a Nazi Party een chor contry, Cheannie? I vould zinzarely like to become eenwolwed mit it again if I coult…”

  At this notion, Jeannie, who widows should beware as she was dressed in her usual straight black attire—looking for all the world like a tiny female SS stormtropper (and there weren’t any such animals, folks)—stopped pushing the cart to drop her jaw.

  “Uh, yeah. No, they don’t do that anymore, or something. NO. You can’t go ahead and do that. That would be…evil !!!”

  “Effil. Vatewer vould meke chu heppy, Cheannie. Are chu heppy? Oh, look, dot line iz open !” He swung the cart over.

  They made it home unmolested, but some people were starting to stare, many in abject horror. It was the mustache. There IS an American Nazi Party, Jeannie oopsed to herself, and there was that whole business with the Skinheads these past few years. And her, and all her black-wearing friends…oh, God.

  I HATE politics. What if he starts attracting a crowd?

  What’ll he do with them, especially if he was all that purported charisma, in a hate-ridden way? Weird white cults and Black Moslems will suddenly have this powerful competition?

  Jeannie tried introducing Hitler to the concept of merely being a “punk poser,” letting the SS only set clothing trends.

  “That’s all I ever wear, black. I keep thinking it’s appropriate because of all the AIDS and abortions. We’re well past the amount of people you killed in the death camps…”

  “ABORCHUNZ !!! Ve told dizebled paiple to ztop hevink eny children.” Hitler gave Jeannie this ghastly, pale look. “Chu mean, ordeenary Aryan zeetizenz are killink dere own CHILDREN?”

 

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