Compound Fractures for The Masses
October 17, 2014
Mouth Wide Open (10-minute play)
November 14, 2014
Because today is a special occasion for all the demons and goblins out there, this week’s essay is written in honor of the day. I originally wrote and submitted the essay to McSweeney’s Internet Tendency out in San Francisco. Unfortunately they turned it down. I liked the way it came together though, so I’m posting it to my blog. When you’re not getting freaked out by all the horror offerings available today or partying like its 1999, take a few minutes to read this one.
Word Count: 754
Embracing Your
Inner Hell Spawn
Time to come clean all you demonic wanna=bes. You know who you are. Milksop types who slink over to the corner at a party just so they can hide in the shadows and hope nobody notices their presence. Sooner or later someone actually does get curious, comes over, and speaks to you in all sorts of ignominious tones. You’re somewhat flattered they’ve even taken the time to talk to you. In actuality the person initiating the conversation forgets what the two of you talked about thirty seconds after they’ve turned their back and ended the verbal exchange with you.
At this point you decide it might be nice to make an amazing transformation. The type of physical transition that over-produceced Hollywood messterpieces easily allocate too much of their special effects budget on creating. A physically transformative action with all its bells and whistles that stuns the crowd. Easily giving flies easy, unencumbered access to the inside of witness’ mouths.
You’ve waited all your life for this moment and now hopefully it’s actually happening. Your body begins to morph into this larger than life, scaly, horned, slobbering hell beast and suddenly there isn’t a single person present who doesn’t bow down to you with all sorts of fear and loathing. No more wallflower impersonations for you. Now you’re the one in charge and nobody can tell you otherwise. You’ve totally embraced your inner Hell spawn and it feels damn good. Excruciatingly sweet too.
Is this possible? Of course it is. You’ve watched more then your fair share of late night monster movies and that entitles you to know exactly how this is supposed to happen. Everyone is intimidated, and soon you’re walking around with a vicious scowl painted all over your face.
That low life scum who thought they were doing you a big favor by talking to you ten minutes ago? Now he’s getting down on his hands and knees and kissing your oversized, scab infested, (and extremely smelly) feet.
Interestingly enough all those good-looking women attending the party? Now they’re more than a bit intrigued with your presence and somehow fascinated. You walk up to one of them and she asks where you’ve been all her life. Close up, she isn’t intimidated by the fact that you’ve transformed yourself into a hairy beast and a chair is offered. It’s obviously too small so you decline the appeasement.
Instead you wave your hand, (which causes more than a few annoying hangers-on to suddenly disappear) and a sea of humanity parts. An over-sized throne is quickly assembled and you slouch down in it. Your subjects are groveling big time and no one chooses to defy your authority.
Abruptly someone notices a portal to Hell (which obviously allowed your transformation to take place) and rather than try to hide it, your henchmen choose to accent the passageway. A nice set of blood red curtains is hung around it and flashing LED lights are attached. This is the sort of thing a demonic Martha Stewart type might do in a situation such as this. You smile at the realization of this fact.
Now that you’ve achieved godlike leviathan status, it’s also high time to institute some of your loftier objectives. You’ve thought it might be kind of unique to be in the same position as all those James Bond villains throughout the years. You know the ones I’m talking about. Evil to the core creeps their own mothers might think twice about loving. Individuals who make Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin look like fine, upstanding individuals. You’ve got the looks for it, so why not go hog wild. Begin instituting your plans for total world domination.
Feels grand to be on such a lofty pedestal doesn’t it? Of course it does. Then again you didn’t get here without a fight. All those lonely nights, and the multiple games of solitaire. Don’t ever forget that tumultuous night at home when the pizza deliveryman justified bringing you your cold, soggy, double pie by telling you it was the fault of his car breaking down as he tried to drive through a ditch. Yeah, right.
While we’re dwelling on the subject of your pathetic existence, is it really necessary to go to such an extreme of transforming yourself into a demon in order to achieve a modicum of recognition? Why not, you’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be endlessly drooling, and now you’re getting a chance to do it.
