The Little Piece That Fit

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts—“Sinner”

MoTW—“Cemetery Man”

I was surrounded by giant grocery carts with huge dripping fangs. An old
Asian man pointed at the carts and then at me.

“You get!” he shrieked as he poured tea from a pot into a couple of
rather dirty cups.

I didn’t move, trying to figure where I was and what was going on.

“You get!” he shrieked again, pointing at the slowly advancing carts.

“But….they’ve got fangs?”

“No matter! You get!”

I decided to do what he ordered since he looked all knowing and very,
very wise.

I headed towards one of the carts but when I got close it rose up on
its back wheels and charged towards me while the fangs open and closed
with a metallic sound.

“You chicken!” shrieked the man as he continued to pour the tea. “You no
get! You chicken!”

“They’ve got fangs! How can I get them when they have fangs?”

“One lump or two?”


“You want one lump or two? You chicken, you no get carts! One lump or

“I don’t understand……”


I woke up with those words stuck in my mind. Crazy fucking dream.

“One lump or two?”

I’m still dreaming?

No, my eyes were open and I was in my room.

“One lump or two?”

The arm was no longer in my nostril, I was awake, this was definitely my
room, but still……

“One lump or two?” asked this familiar voice, now sounding a little

I felt some movement at the foot of the bed and sat up.

Mrs Beasley was lying on her back while the monkey was on top of her
thrusting its hips madly into her groin area. Thrusting into what, I
have no idea since I figured that she wasn’t anatomically correct, her
being Mrs Beasley and all.

But thrust he did and again she said, “One lump or two?”

Her head turned towards me and when I saw her glassy eyes I jumped out
of the bed. The monkey stopped in mid stroke and hopped off the bed and
onto the desk and then went through the open window.

“What in the hell are you doing?” I asked as her eyes closed.

“It’s a wonderful time for a tea party,” she replied as her legs slowly

“Fucking whore,” I muttered as I closed the window.
As I wondered if her little escapade somehow warped her kind causing her
to forget the plan, I heard the lock click on the bedroom door. I
quickly picked her up and threw her into the closet before the door
opened, since having a doll in my bed wouldn’t be something I could
easily explain to my parents.

The door opened and there stood my dad. “Good morning sunshine! You
ready for some breakfast?”

“Yep, I’ll be right down,” I replied, thankful he didn’t seem to notice
that my hands were covered in some sort of sticky goo.

COMING NEXT: The plan goes into effect?

Stephen Johnson

The idea of building a website with Bob came from Stephen in the days of message boards and chat rooms. We settled on the name and the rest is history. Retired since he hit the ripe age of 25, he spends most his time doing odd-jobs around the house and digging thru trash bins for "stuff that's still good." Stephen has contributed several short stories and hosted the "Lunatic Ravings" column since the beginning (1999). The idea of writing weekly columns came from Stephen before blogs or blog sites ever existed. So, I guess that makes him THE FIRST BLOGGER IN THE WORLD!!!

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