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A Classy Ghost
Jul 21, 2003

this wine has a fantastic booquet
hello td it has been a long time

in

Humor

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A Classy Ghost
Jul 21, 2003

this wine has a fantastic booquet
X514. Only usurers can carry the corpse of the usurer.

Weekend at TD’s
763 words

Leonard’s fresh corpse laid in the middle of Larry’s dining room, a broken champagne flute next to it on the floor.

“Merry Christmas, you sack of poo poo. May we never work together again,” said Larry.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think it’d work this fast. Is him being dead already going to be a problem?” asked Ernest.

“No, but we’re gonna have to carry him there now,” Larry sighed. He looked at the clock: 1:57AM. “We only have about an hour left to get there.”

“Does it matter if we’re a bit late?”

“Probably, yeah, when we’re dealing with this magic poo poo. He was very clear about being there before 3.”

“Alright, grab his legs then, let’s go.”

Both men strained to lift Leonard’s corpse, but it didn’t budge at all, as if glued to the floor.

“Why’s he so heavy?”

The men tried again, with the same result. Larry glared at the corpse then came to a realization.

“It’s the goddamn souls! He collected so many as interest that they’re making his own weigh a ton! Couldn’t just stick to money like the rest of us!”

“How’re we going to get him out of here?”

Larry thought about it for a second then lit up. “I got an idea, actually.”

He walked over to a hallway closet and took out a box tucked in the back.

“Got it a while back, lady said it was magic and could move the dead, but I wasn’t really listening. It being silver was all that mattered, covered what she owed.”

He opened the box and carefully took out a small silver flute.

“Seems pretty far fetched.”

Larry shrugged and offered the flute to Ernest. “So’s this situation. Wanna give it a shot?”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Larry lifted the flute to his lips a few random notes, not following any sort of melody. Leonard’s body immediately slid across the room and rammed into the wall headfirst, leaving a noticeable dent in the plaster.

“Holy poo poo!” both men exclaimed.

“I can’t believe it works,” said Ernest. “Let’s slide him out of here!”

“Yeah, alright.” Larry played another series of mismatched notes on the flute. One of Leonard’s arms flailed out and flopped his torso halfway around. The body slid right through the broken champagne glass and was sent careening into the dining table, dragging it and the chairs along and rattling the whole set.

“Uh, I’ll go get the car ready while you figure this out,” Ernest said and walked out the front door.

After a few minutes of trial and error, the best Larry could manage was making the body slide in the direction he wanted, spread out like a starfish.

“Good enough for now.”

Ernest walked back in. “Car’s snowed in, I think we’re stuck here man.”

“Let’s stop by the neighbors’ place, I got an idea.”

***

The child-sized sled Ernest and Larry were perched on slid to a stop in front of an isolated cabin in the woods, pulled along by the starfishing corpse.

The front door of the cabin opened and an annoyed-looking man came out. He pointed at his watch with a black-gloved hand.

“You’re almost late. Come on,” the man says, waving them inside.

Larry played the flute and sent the corpse slamming into the side of the cabin, shaking snow off the roof and burying it..

“Look, boys, I’ve had a long night already. Some dipshit writer got the better of me and I’m all out of patience right now. I just want to pig out on a pile of souls at the witching hour. Pick him up and bring him in.”

“Uh, we can’t,” Larry responded lamely. “Gotta do it this way.” He pointed his chin at the flute and resumed his attempt at a song.

The man snatched the flute out of his hands and played a beautiful melody. Leonard’s body immediately stood up out of the snow and walked over to him. The man turned around and walked inside, still playing. Leonard followed him inside and turned around. Larry looked into Leonard’s glassy eyes. Leonard looked through and past him, then slammed the door shut.

“Hey, wait!” said Larry. “What about the deal?”

Larry walked up to the door and turned the know, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open effortlessly. Beyond it was a bare room, no furniture, no light, no corpse.

The two men entered the room and looked around, frustrated.

“Probably was a bad idea to make a deal with him, Larry.”

A Classy Ghost
Jul 21, 2003

this wine has a fantastic booquet
In, dealer's choice!

A Classy Ghost
Jul 21, 2003

this wine has a fantastic booquet
A Story to Sink Your Teeth Into
998 words

Sheila woke up instantly; it was that dream again - the one with the face, and the man, with the face. And the teeth. Terrible, yellowing things, forgotten tombstones jutting out haphazardly from his gums, marking where a root had died, abused and abandoned.

She moved to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. She stood holding the sides of the sink, staring at herself in the mirror, teeth bared.

It was the fourth time. She still didn’t know who the man was, she’d never met him - she would remember that face. Those teeth.

She ran her tongue over her teeth and they felt dirty, unclean. She began brushing them, desperate to get rid of the feeling.

Whoever he was, she had to find him. A mouth like that couldn’t be allowed to wander unsupervised.

She spit in the sink and bared her teeth in the mirror again. She pursed her lips and nodded to herself.

Sheila twirled her toothbrush like a baton and raised it above her head. A beam of blinding light shone down through the bathroom’s ceiling, engulfing her, an angelic chant filling her ears. It faded after a moment, and Sheila stood tall, wrapped in an enamel exoskeleton. Her face was entirely covered except for her mouth, showing her perfect, straight teeth.

She saluted her reflection. “For the Institoothion!”

Sheila left through her bedroom window, her leaping ivory form a stunning contrast to the night.

***

Sheila was following the scent of halitosis through the streets of Chew York. It had been getting stronger the closer she got to the prosthodontic district.The stench was intertwined with the typical aroma of porcelain and metal.

She leapt from one rooftop to the next, and then there he was. The man from her dreams. She watched him walk down an alley and enter the side door of a nondescript building.

Sheila made sure no one else was in the vicinity and jumped down to the door. She clacked her teeth twice for good luck and swung the door open. The hallway beyond was empty, but the smell of halitosis that buffeted out was almost overwhelming. Sheila avoided the brunt of it by instinctively retracting the enamel nostril-lids of her exoskeleton.

At the end of the hallway was a stairway, descending further than any basement would be reasonably located, no doubt connected to the network of dilapidated tunnels rotting the city’s gums.

Sheila didn’t encounter anyone going down the spiral staircase. She crept forward with care, expecting traps but not finding any. Sheila looked down the central shaft and couldn’t see the bottom. She took one quick little step backwards, then flipped forwards into the darkness, the wind rushing by as she dove headfirst into the depths.

She landed in hard packed dirt, stabbing into the earth like a vengeful incisor. The group of people seated nearby in the cave stood up, startled. The man from her dreams stood at a podium facing the crowd. They all had the same face, the same teeth.

The dust around her settled and she pulled herself up out of the ground. The man at the podium pointed a finger at her.

“Sheila! I have been expecting you. We knew the Insitoothion’s dog would find us soon enough.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Tar-tar Stinks, Chief Decayer of this cell of 2Fake! And we’re going to destroy your tyrannical, ordered rule of teeth and dental hygiene! Chaos will reign in all mouths! Get her!”

The crowd of men rushed towards Sheila. She raised her voice above their shouts, and asked, “Could you clarify your plan? I don’t really get…” but she was cut off by something hitting her right arm.

A black spot immediately spread and decayed her exoskeleton where it was hit. Tar-tar had a cavity gun in his hand. They had been outlawed in Chew York since the 70’s, but unsavory sorts still knew where to find them.

Sheila did her best to dodge the barrage of shots that followed, but Tar-tar had good aim, and with the crowd closing, he got a couple more shots in. She took down the first people that reached her, but she was quickly overwhelmed and held still. Tar-tar laughed and lined up his final shot.

“Appolonia, I need your help!” Sheila shouted.

Giant, shining ivory incisors erupted from the ground all around her, shielding her.. Molars rained from the ceiling crushing men beneath them. Only Tar-tar remained standing. When the incisors retreated from around Sheila, she was holding a giant, halberd-like toothbrush, the legendary Polisher, in her hands. The bristles gleamed in the moonlight.

“Eeeearrrrgh, you dare utter that whore’s name in front of me? Perish!”

Tar-tar raised the cavity gun and aimed it at Sheila. At the same time, Sheila swung the tail end of the Polisher in his direction and a blob of toothpaste shot out of it. The minty projectile knocked the weapon out of Tar-tar’s hands before he could fire. Tar-tar cried out in rage and charged at Sheila. She swung the Polisher at him and it cut him clean in half.

His top half croaked, “You think you’ve won? There are more of us! There are others!”

“It doesn’t matter. Good dental hygiene always wins.”

Sheila bent down and ripped the teeth out of Tar-tar’s mouth, then crushed his head with the end of the Polisher. They might be in a sorry state, but they’d do. She tossed them in her mouth and chewed on them, crinch cronching the teeth, the sound having a certain softness to it, reminding the listener that they weren’t cared for properly. Sheila swallowed, and her exoskeleton regenerated and covered the holes where she had been shot.

Sheila would find the others and she would introduce them to the wonderful world of exodontics. The Institoothion’s views were that they didn’t deserve the teeth at all if they weren’t going to care for them.

She clacked her teeth twice. It would be a long year.

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