“You’re drunk, Barney! Put that down!”
*HICK*
*HICK*
“But it looks so tasty!”
“And you’re a moron! THAT’S A FREAKING LAMP!”
“Aw, c’mon, Andy, it’s just a joke! I’m not that stupid…”
“But you are THAT drunk!”
Two local deadbeats, one more of a nuisance than the other, are rummaging through a musty living room. One of them, Barney, lazily and half-heartedly gives dizzied glances over dusty nicknacks. A bit more determined, the other, Andy, is going through desk drawers.
“Why don’t we just check upstairs, unless we plan on hauling out a couch…” says Barney.
“AFTER we clear this floor, then we’ll check the old bag’s bedroom!” says Andy after finding a photograph in a nightstand drawer.
*flop*
*flop*
He flops around the photograph. It’s horribly faded.
*HICK* belches Barney as usual. He chuckles, “Bedroom…I like the sound of that…” *HICK*
This house they are in isn’t Barney’s home. Not Andy’s either. It’s the ol’ Milhollin place, and they plan to ransack whatever isn’t nailed down. For anything else, they can return with buddies, of course, by offering drinks on them. Although, Andy is better positioned to offer anyone anything compared to Barney.
They did the bare minimum of dressing for the occasion with ski masks. Doing so just in case Deputy Griffith comes sniffing around…
“Heh, when was this photo taken? 1906?” Andy jokes.
“HA HA HA *HICK* more like…1936!” Barney belches.
Andy says, “It’s 1936 right now, booze brain-”
*CRAAAAASH*
He quickly flashes his light toward Barney.
“Oh, COME ON, ANDY, I’M JUST JO-” Barney begins to say before turning away from the bright light.
“Oh my~ Hehe *HICK* Hello there~”
An unflinching small girl stares right back at them with freshly and abruptly overturned furniture behind her.
She asks, “Are you here to play?” *thwap* as she winds what looks like a tail sticking out of her back.
“He. He. *HIIIIIIICK* I’d love to play with your tail, little lady-”
*OOOOOOOF* Barney gets elbowed in the chest by Andy.
“Of course, little sweet thing~” answers Andy.
He elbows Barney again in the chest and whispers, “Take her upstairs, grab what you can…”
*HIIIIIICK* “...with pleasure…” Barney snickers.
Barney takes the girl by the hand, but to his surprise, she doesn’t budge, regardless of how much oafish drunken force he’s using...
Still staring forward, she asks, “Where are your cards?”
“Oh little sweet thing~ We must have left them upstairs~” answers Andy.
Barney chimes in, “Yeah! He. He. *HIIIIIICK* I think uncle Barney left ’em in the bedroom under the sheets~” *HICK*
Andy is agitated that Barney casually used his real name and shouts, “Well, THEN GO help her find them!”
…
Silence.
Andy takes it that Barney finally listened to him and is pleased with having a moment’s peace. He returns to rummaging around, but he can’t help but wonder how that girl snuck in here. Must be one of the local little shits. Although…Andy does ponder who she is exactly. He didn’t recognize her, and by default, booze-brained Barney wouldn’t know shit. Still though, everybody usually knows everybody in this town…
Andy shrugs it off. Why should he care? He looks up at a tarp-covered frame above a fireplace.
Preparing to pull it down, he says, “What’s behind curtain number one-”
*Drip*
*Driiiiip*
Andy turns around, “BARNEY! You better not be taking a piss again-”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
An out-of-this-world thing with a claw large enough to slice a tractor in half and tentacles protruding from its back approaches Andy. It clutches the most worthless piece of old booze brain Barney, his head, with its other hand.
The face of the little girl and the face of a monster shout together in sync, “NO CARDS!”
*STOMP*
“NO GAME!”
*STOMP*
Andy scuttles backward like a rat with each heavy footstep from the thing against the creaking floor. He weeps with every drop his soul has left to pour out! His hands vibrate on the floor *STOMP* as the thing closes in.
He shares no care or any sense of camaraderie for the decapitated booze brain he “sometimes” called a friend. Andy wishes he could flee, but the deepest pocket of his mind knows it’s futile.
This is it.
The thing now has him completely cornered against the fireplace. Andy is frozen with fear from head to toe.
*THUD*
*FWOOP*
The tarp from the frame above falls on top of Andy. He rattles and shuts his eyes tight under it, trying to find comfort like a little boy under a warm blanket. The thing raises its claw high…
One more time, it speaks, “...no…CHEATERS!” and swings the claw down to deliver a swift judgement…
…
Silence.
A blood-drenched tarp.
A cold dead hand taps the floor.
…
The reel begins to spin…
The nightmare’s sequence is now playing…
