Mad Mike: Part 1

The North Park fountain was cold, but everyone had already decided it was a good idea to grab me and make me the sacrificial lamb. It was my first party in months, I had spent half my salary on new clothes forgoing the highly expensive and needless trip to a young Writers conference. Somewhere between the peer and landing in the two feet of water I saw Maria pointing and laughing, being a twin is awesome. No one helped me out, no one handed me a towel, someone handed me an empty beer can though. I think this is shaping up to be the best party I’ve ever been to, and I’m only being slightly sarcastic.

I simmered as close to the bonfire as my drenched and still flammable shirt would allow. I was still a little damp when everyone started leaving for the empty-lot fair a few blocks away, Mad Mikes Murder Madness.  I said fair not Disneyland, anyway this fair was sort of a legend amongst the college culture. The kind of thing a friend’s uncle’s old pal from school would have gotten so drunk at he picked a fight with a carny and was never seen again kind of deal.

A week before the net blew up with reviews from other schools. Some kid had a heart attack in the haunted house, a girl was found sleeping naked in the pig pen high off her kite. But everyone, I mean everyone was talking about Mad Mike himself. None of the stories seemed to fit though, some people swore this guy was an eight foot tall skinhead with a twelve foot python wrapped around his neck skating around the fair in a tutu and nipple rings. I saw a picture showing him to be a legless gaunt human with the eyes of an alligator.

Whoever this guy was he has been to four schools along the west coast and tonight he was in our neighborhood. The fair was in the lot where Rezfine Inc. use to be, the lot was bulldozed after the fire and it was empty for a month before the carny vans started getting it all ready. The streets at the edge of suburbia and frat house lane were lined so thick with trees all you could see was the balls of fire marking the entrance.

Midgets on ten foot stilts, dressed as terrifying stripper clowns, tossed confetti at everyone as we entered. They challenged the guys to a whose-got-it-bigger contest and all the girls to, well the same. One of them threw up so close to Maria a lot of it got on her shoes, Mad Mike you genius, I think I’ll get the deluxe ticket package. Two hundred ride tickets, ten onion fry vouchers, drink bracelet and a golden ticket to Uncle Mikes House of Blood “so sick and twisted, medical and criminal law students will change majors.” Now that’s advertisement, this is going to be a fun night.

“Hey Barney, got all wet at the fountain didn’t you.” I turn to see Chad Hensley high fiving one of his art house film nitwits.

“Stick to the pictures big boy, you aren’t witty enough for words.” I hate him that much more after being overpowered and tossed in that fountain. I can’t prove it but I know he had a hand in that.

“don’t make me laugh, I don’t think I have to remind you our last short in Mr. Colungas received the top grade and you little pile of garbage barely got a seventy four.” They high five again, and he starts to very loudly quote my film, “Tabatha, why would you sleep with Winslow. He was never any good for you.”

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, “You idiot I never touched that script, I was the DP.” I lied.

“Even worse, you didn’t have the good sense to smear Vaseline on your lens every time your sister was supposed to be in frame.”

He has a point, “keep talking asshole and I’ll shove your wide angle in a low light shot, you dig?”

They laugh and saunter away, I’m not kidding they sauntered. It took every bit of will power not to take a stilt and beat him in the skull.

“Thanks for sticking up for me Barn.”

“God damn it Maria,” I jumped a foot in the air. “Wear that bell I got you, geez.”

“I wish you wouldn’t dress like that,” she says solemnly tugging on my coat. “You look like dad.”

“And you look like Granny Pam, during the funeral.” I point at her black lined eyes and pale face.

“The midget threw up on my shoes. I think I’ll hang them in my next exhibit.”

“Maria that is the most original thing I have ever heard. Stand back mainstream, this little erosion just might be the next river.”

“hrmf, “ I think that’s what she said before running off. I know I’m an ass, but if the world were a smarter place I wouldn’t have to be, now time for some Garlic fries.

By: Edgar & Cas