Things Don’t Go My Way

Queensryche—American Soldier

MoTW—Plague Town

So there we were, me standing there holding the severed finger in the
air with the woman screaming at me to give her the finger so she could
put it on ice and rush it back to the hospital so that maybe, just
maybe, the doctor's could make her stepsister whole again.

I did the sensible thing and refused to give her the finger (ha!) since
that wasn't what BiViD wanted.

This wasn't what the woman wanted either and she ran upstairs and
grabbed a skillet from the kitchen and ran back downstairs and continued
to bitch and moan about how she wanted the finger. I figured that she
had finally succumbed to BiViD's ways and started to hand her the
finger, figuring she was going to cook it in the skillet so BiViD
wouldn't have to eat it raw.

As she was reaching for it I felt a powerful force take over me and I
yanked my hand back before she good grab the morsel. It came to me then
that she wasn't going to cook the finger, she was going to try and save
it, thus denying BiViD.

This didn't please her and she began hitting me with the skillet really,
really hard. I was soon on my knees and she began hitting my head with
that fucking skillet but I wouldn't relinquish my prize.

Then she reared back and delivered a killer blow to my head and I found
my whole body going limp. I then peed, pooped, vomited and earwaxed on
myself as the finger fell from my grasp.

With a victory cry the woman picked up the finger and ran back upstairs,
leaving me twitching in my own filth. I faintly heard the freezer door
open and then the sound of ice being poured into a cup or Tupperware or

Then I heard her calling someone saying that she would be there in a few
minutes, how I was a freak, etc. etc. and then she yelled, "BiViD isn't
REAL, you got that name from your underwear you sick fuck!" and then
she was gone.

I lay there for a bit waiting for some feeling to return to my body and
then peeled myself off the floor. I went upstairs gingerly touching my
soft, pulpy smashed head, hoping that I could arrange it into something
looking remotely human.

As I rinsed my head in the kitchen sink I heard voices outside. When I
looked, I saw a few of the neighbors were standing in the street talking
about something. Since I'm never invited to these little discussions, I
decided now would be a good time to join as any.

So I went outside and checked the mail. A couple men in the group saw me
and gave me that manly head nod thing, which I kind of returned, and
then went back to their conversation which I think had to do with

After getting the mail which included my latest issue of Idolfeyment
Weekly, I walked over to the group and just stood there, not looking at
anyone in the group but focused on something in the distance.

The chiggers talk eventually petered out and I felt them staring at me.
So I spoke.

"I once flew a copter in the Big One……."

And I let that sit there as I continued looking at something in the

I reached up to scratch at my soft, pulpy head and pulled off a piece of
scalp which I let gently float to the ground. Soon after this the group
disbanded and they went on their merry ways.

I sighed and went back inside. No more new God? A soft, pulpy head. A
woman a bit peeved at me. But the latest edition on Idolfeyment Weekly.

Life couldn't be any better.

COMING NEXT: The end of BiViD?

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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