Sunday, September 24, 2017

90s TV from Hell (Flash Fiction) by Halloween Eddie



Doug reached for his phone, telling him to wake up in a mellow tinkling tone. It was like a calm, relaxing stroll through a sweet rain forest. As soft and innocent as the alarm sound was, Doug wanted to throw his phone at the wall in shatter it into a million tiny pieces. He wanted--no--he needed more sleep.

“It’s already 4:50 a.m.? Son of a—”

“Huh? Whuh hon?” Doug’s wife turned to his direction with her eyes shut, gripping the comforter in her arms like an old lover. Doug envied her. She looked so comfortable. He recently started to appreciate sleep since landing a new job which was the total opposite of his graveyard shift. Thinking about sleep at work made him want it like drugs. Ah, I can’t wait to go home and sleep.

“Nothing, babe. Just didn’t sleep at all. Go back to bed, love. I’m gonna get ready.” His wife was already off to dream land embracing her warm comforter. She mumbled something incoherently and smacked her lips together. Doug hesitantly got up to empty his bladder.

Cold water made his eyes feel heavier. The hot shower made him feel sleepier.  Coffee and hot food is a must now. Doug turned on the coffee pot (he couldn’t touch his wife’s shmancy-fancy Keurig because he messed it up last time) and set a Jimmy Dean’s breakfast sandwich in the microwave to cook evenly every where else but the middle of the patty.

After putting on his clothes and gathering his breakfast, Doug turned on the television. All four news stations were on a commercial break so Doug kept flipping channels.

“All these channels and not a damn thing to watch,” he said to the living room.
When he got to channel 323, a black and white Mickey Mouse was staring at him from the middle of the woods; dead center. He had went to 324 and thought, what the hell? So he changed it back. Mickey Mouse was still staring at the viewer from the woods. Doug put his coffee and breakfast sandwich down without taking his eyes off the beloved mouse. Mickey Mouse wasn’t smiling, he was just staring blankly. There was broken piano music playing softly. Doug continued to stare at Mickey, but it was suddenly cut to Doug Funny drawing in his room.

Knocked out of his trance Doug said, “Wow, I remember this.” He took a sip of his coffee and watched eagerly. The same broken piano music kept playing which was odd. As the camera panned in to see what Doug was drawing, Doug on the couch couldn’t believe what he saw.

“Is that Patty Mayonnaise? What The hell is going on…” his last words were a whisper.
Doug Funny's crush was drawn hogtied and decapitated. Porkchop, Doug’s dog, was licking the blood from Patty’s neck. Doug Funny’s face was twisted in a cynical grin and he said, “That’ll show her.”

Doug couldn’t believe what he was watching. Is this like that adult Ren & Stimpy show? Doug was confused. The show switched.

It was now Are You Afraid of the Dark? Doug was delighted, but not too much. Why the hell was Doug drawing that? Was that real?
The Midnight Society was gathered in front of the infamous campfire in the woods. As the teens (probably fifty years-old a piece now) were deciding on who to tell a story, Doug noticed black and white Mickey Mouse in the background; hiding in the woods.

“What in the actual hell is going on?”
Doug started to eat his breakfast sandwich but nearly choked on it when a man in a burlap mask came out from the woods and shot the teens with an automatic assault rifle. The teens screamed as bullets pierced their bodies and arms flew detached from their owners. One kid landed face first into the fire.

“What the f—!!!” Doug stopped himself from getting any louder. He didn’t want his wife to wake up and see this. The shooter in the burlap mask was reaching for his disguise.

The frame cut to Hey, Arnold! Arnold was in his room laying down looking at his panoramic ceiling. He had an evil smile on his face similar to Doug Funny’s. The same piano music kept playing, but it sounded much sinister now. Arnold’s grandfather walked in and asked Arnold where he would like his raincoat to be hung. Arnold laughed in a monotone voice and said, “The closet, grandpa. Duh.” His grandfather opened the closet door. The piano music got loud and scary. Doug spat out his coffee and fumbled for the remote control quickly.
When Arnold’s grandfather opened the closet door, the cartoon ended and a frame of an old woman in a night gown was cut in. It looked like a home video; no more cartoon—this was real. The old woman's eyes were opened wide in shock. Her eyes were blood shot; more like blood-drenched. Her face was blue; protruding small veins every where on her features. A noose was tightly wrapped around her skinny neck. She was dangling from a closet clothing rod; staring at the camera. Someone was recording this.

“Babe!” Doug’s wife called.

Doug changed the channel to 324. His heart was hammering at his chest.

“Why’s the TV so loud?”

“Oh, um, sorry, babe. I don’t know what happened.” I really don’t know what the hell just happened.

“Love you, babe. Text me when you get to work.”

Doug stayed staring at the TV. “Love you too, babe. Will do.”

He looked to the bedroom door across the hall from the living room, making sure his wife wasn’t up and awake. He changed it back to 323. The channel no longer existed.
“What? Are you serious?” Doug kept going to 322 to 324. 324 to 322. No 323 was found. He even tried to add the channel from the menu, still didn’t exist. “What the hell just happened?”

Every morning and night after that, Doug tried to find channel 323 but never saw it again. He googled the horrific Doug Funny, Midnight Society massacre, and Arnold description of what he had seen but got nothing but fan fiction horror stories that were nothing close to what he had seen. He googled about channel 323 and got no leads. It didn’t exist. Every night he dreamed about the dead woman in the closet and the burlap shooter. He never got answers. And on his way to and from work he started seeing an unsmiling Mickey Mouse in the woods just staring at him.

By Halloween Eddie

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