Southern Fried Weirdness

 

By Keith P. Graham

 

Marjorie opened up a new MS Word document and started typing:

"Vampires! I hate vampires!" Michelangelo fired off a burst of silver rounds from his sawed-off Uzi and the front row went down. Vampires in black capes turned to dust when the bullets hit them.

Suddenly, there was a squeal as a flock of huge bats rose up from behind the tombstones.

"Not as much as I do!" Angelina said as she loaded another silver bolt into her crossbow. She took out a dozen of the deadly bats in as many seconds.

"They've got us surrounded!" Michelangelo said, shoving another clip of silver bullets into the Uzi.

"We may die here, but I'm going to take as many as I can with us!" answered Angelina.

It was then that she saw the werewolves running up the hill.

Marjorie re-read what she had just written and scowled. Somehow, it did not scan the way she wanted. She saved the document in her WIP directory and stared at the laptop's screen. She opened up Ralan's web page and clicked on something in the news.

"Honey," Marjorie asked her husband, who was watching Letterman with the volume turned down, "what do you think these people mean by southern fried weirdness?"

"Maybe they are trying to create a new genre."

"Yeah, but they are talking about submissions and acceptances and anthologies."

"I don't think it matters. If they are trying to break new ground, it would be like the real zine, just different than you'd expect"

"Oh, I guess."

Marjorie opened another document, sighed and started to type.

"Aliens! I hate Aliens" Bernardo said and took aim with his quantum destabilizer.

"No," Angelina said, as she pushed the barrel of the deadly device towards the stars, "These are peaceful aliens from Vegos Prime Cappa Delta."

"How can you tell?" Bernardo asked.

"There is a red heart shaped mark just above their left nipple."

"But they look just like Geroto Daemon Beta aliens."

Just then, the lead alien reached up to her breast and tore off the red heart shaped mark. It had all been a ploy.

"Duck!" said Bernardo, and it was the last thing he said before a deadly ray disintegrated his head.

Marjorie saved the document. Behind it, the web page was still open.

"Honey," Marjorie asked her husband, who was starting to doze off, "It says that they want weird fiction."

"That's nice."

"They want eclectic, freebase genre. Some of these stories are very stupid. I don't even understand the last one."

"Write about your cousin Enid. He's a freebase eclectic genre kind of guy. Write about the time he was captured by aliens. That would make a good story."

"No, it has to be more interesting that that."

Marjorie clicked on the MS Word icon.

"Zombies! I hate Zombies" Antonio said. He grabbed the ancient book out of his pocket and read the curse, throwing the bat dandruff into the air. The zombies cringed and stepped back, but in a moment started forward again.

"The hurricane has opened up the graves of the undead!" Angelina yelled. She opened her spell bag, took out five red candles, and lit them. She placed them in the form of a pentagram around her.

"Good idea." Said Antonio. He tried to cross into the safety of the pentacle, but there was a flash of green light.

Antonio's eyes glazed over and his face became a mask of death. He had turned into a zombie.

"Antonio!" Angelina screamed.

Marjorie saved the fragment and said, "I need a good midget robot barbarian story."

Her husband woke suddenly and then said "What about the time Enid was arrested with the vibrating doll in the back of his car outside of the circus?"

"That's too boring. This has to be speculative fiction."

Marjorie tried again.

"Demons! I hate demons!" Fernando raised the silver crucifix and the giant fly shaped demon took a step backwards.

"Hurricane Katrina has opened the gates of Hell!" Angelina screamed. She grabbed her rosary and started chanting Hail Mary. The minions of hell slowed and covered their ears, if they had them.

"Good work," said Fernando, "We'll show them what a defrocked priest and a reformed prostitute can do."

While he had his head turned to her, he let the crucifix fall to his side. The fly shaped demon leaped upon him, grabbed him in its fang-filled maw, and dragged the struggling man down through the open gates of Hell.

"Fernando!" Angelina screamed.

Marjorie saved the story.

"I need a real eye popper of an idea to make my name in Speculative Fiction." She said.

Her husband muttered as he turned in the chair, "I like the circus story. It was a heartwarming story. Enid had been tweaking for a month straight and the judge put him in rehab and now Enid is running for Governor of Louisiana."

"No, it has to be special and scary and weird. Nobody wants to read about a circus."

"Well, you could tell how Enid hallucinated after he ate that bad crayfish. It was during hurricane Katrina and the Crayfish farm was flooded. Millions of crayfish got out and surrounded his house. They found him on the roof stark naked and screaming about flag burners. He won't touch crayfish, lobster or even king crabs. He says the claws creep him out."

Marjorie tilted her head and thought. Suddenly a smile appeared on her face.

"Hm. You might have something there" She opened another document and started to write.

 

Copyright © 2008, Keith P. Graham -- Photo courtesy of PDPhoto.org.