Even Bad Writing Need A Writer

After some consultation with the lovely Elena Petricone, I have decided to do things again. And one of those things? Writing! So here’s a story! Yeah!

The Victim

Oh God, do I need to piss.
…
What, Helga?
…
No, okay, I just…okay, I just need to go outside and piss here.
…
No…no, YOU don’t go outside!
…
No, YOU’RE dangerous outside!
…
What?
…
No, you listen. No, you.
…
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no – YOU.
…
No I am not.
…
No, YOU are drunk!
…
Look, who is the one with the giant pretzels on her head? Is it me? Is it? Is it? Is it? Christ, Helga, just let me…
…
No, fine, it’s YOUR own damn fault.
…
No, I’M lucky to be rid of me!
…
Don’t you shut that door, Helga! Don’t you!
…
I just needed to piss!
…
All right Frau Schmidt Von Hammerstein Von Macher Von Kluck Von Frankelmeister Von Gottlieb…Von Toot…Von…Von…
…
Ah, what the hell is your name?
…
You know your problem? Huh? You’re too…damn…German. And me, also! I’m just so…German! Look at me for Christ’s sake! The leiderhosen! In the middle of summer, God…And this mustache! And this sausage I am holding! Oh God, WHY? WHY? WHY are we all just SO. DAMN. GERMAN???
…
Well, NOW I am going to piss right on the house.
…
Has the house always been this flat?
…
I mean, look, look at this! All the quaint Bavarian architectural detail and they’re still too cheap to put in the middle of the damn HOUSE. Look! I can see the back from here! They’ve propped it with two-by-fours! Of all the…
…
Damn Hilda and her damn two-dimensional flat plywood house!
…
Ahhh
…
I sure did need that piss.
…
That Herr Frankenstein, he sure can throw a wedding party. Say what you want about feudalism – could a Republic buy free beer for the entire village?
…
Come on, Helga, I see you there. The house is flat, for God’s sake! Let me in!
…
One thing that could be better is the promotional mugs. “My crazy inventor son got married and all you got was this cheap Polish beer!” What kind of slogan is that? Right off my head I could think of something…
…
Uh…okay…uhhh…
…
“A Stein from Frankenstein!”
…
You see? You see? Actually, that is very good! Perhaps tomorrow I will drop by the castle and see if they have any openings in their PR.
…
…maybe there is still beer in the town square..
…
I should go check.
…
Where is the town square?
…
You know, I have lived in this village maybe my whole life and I STILL cannot find my way to the town square.
…
Who’s the kid with the camera?
…
Maybe if I just take this corner, and….
…
Oh…
…
Hello, entire village.
…
Oh, a torch? Thank you.
…
Oh, a pitchfork? Ah, no…you see, I am already holding this torch and this sausage. What are we…what did you say? The monster?
…
Oh, excuse me. The Monster.
…
This way? All right. Is the beer…
…
Gone? Ah. Yes. All right then. To the mountains, you say? All right, then. To the mountains.
…
It’s very dark, isn’t it?
…
I’m glad we brought these torches.
…
You would think there would be stars in the mountains. No?
…
The mountain air is very fresh.
…
Everything looks familiar, also. Perhaps my parents brought me to these mountains as a child. I don’t really remember, but…
…
Wait – did you see that? That rock?
…
It’s flat!
…
It’s not even a damn rock, it’s just plywood with some styrofoam glued to it…
…
Perhaps Helga was right. Maybe I am drunk.
…
Now that I think of it, most of the past is a little hazy. Let’s see…wedding, and Helga, and I was drunk, and there was this house, and we were German…
…
My God, getting drunk and arguing and running into the mountains late at night to look for monsters – I do not even know who I AM, anymore! This is the end! I cannot live this way! When I get home, I will tell Helga – Helga, I am sorry. We should get married!
…
Unless we are already married…
…
And if we are already married, we should have a child! And I will not make the same mistakes that my parents may or may not have made, if I ever remember them, and when our child is of age I shall bring them to the mountains and show them the stars – there will BE stars – and I will say, Child, this is the very spot where your father…
…
Where AM I, anyway?
…
I seem to have lost the others.
…
Where is that music coming from? And the light? From behind that rock?
…
Oh.
…
Oh shit.
…
The Monster.
…
Okay, how is it that HE is three-dimensional?
…
Hello, Mr. Monster. What, this torch? Oh, no, it’s nothing, it’s not even mine, I…Wait, no! No, no please! Acccch!
…
My spine!
…
Oh, thank Gott, He is running away. I hear voices! I see torches! Oh, thank you, thank you Gott – Here! Here I am! I am in a lot of pain, but I’m sure if you were to work together and carry me down, then Herr Doctor Frankenstein could…
…
Oh.
…
There they go.
…
Oh.
…
I see.
…
They will come back when they have caught The Monste.
…
Won’t they? Yes, of course. I suppose I will just…wait here.
…
It is very dark.
…
I suppose it may be too late when they come back.
…
Helga will cry, of course. She didn’t mean it when she said she was lucky to be rid of me…
…
Accch!

Ok, actually, this is very painful now. Yes, I think I will die.
…
At least they must build a statue of me in the town square. The Frankensteins can pay for it. It is THEIR fault after all.
…
Perhaps someone will write a book about it.
…
Maybe later they will even make a movie of my life! “The Man Who Battled The Monster.” My name will never be forgotten!
…
That’s some consolation, anyway.
…
Why is so dark?
…
Acch! I…