If you have a bizarre/weird/strange fiction story you'd like to contribute, please email it to us and we'll have a look-see... :)
the chili powder blues
the chili powder blues came to me one day on the eve of the next equinox
before arbor day. it was a fine day, really! i've
never been one to believe in all the "hype" people
bring to their days. but i figured this time, what the
hell. after all, i had just recently come from a very
fulfilling encounter with a midget trapeze artist and
was feeling quite invincible. there's nothing better
than butter on my head. but don't tell everyone! if
word gets out, then the mystique of it all will be
ruined for me forever. anyway, i digress from a very
entertaining and (not) true story.
my friend, mopar van schtup, had called me earlier
that day and invited me over for a chili dinner. i
love chili so naturally i accepted. later that day, as
i was about to leave for mopar's, he called and asked
if i could stop at the store for him and pick up some
chili powder for him. i said sure but wondered if the
chili would still be okay with the last minute
addition of a very necessary ingredient. i myself,
prefer to slow cook my chili all day long. there's
nothing finer than coming home after a long day in the
salt mines and having the smell of rich and robust
chili flavors dancing around my living room. again i
digress, sorry.
i stopped at the store closest to my dwelling,
"grandpa mac daddy's three aisles of foodstuffs". i
entered and greeted grandpa mac daddy like i usually
do. and he, in return, greeted me the same way he
usually does, by asking me how's it hanging. i
responded in the affirmative and went to the spice
nook. fortunately, he had just one tin of the powder
left. i did not know this at the time, but there was a
big chili cookoff just down the street and two towns
over.
as i was driving my fully restored ford pinto to
mopar's, i came across a hitchhiker. i found this
fascinating because you only hear about these walkers
of the open road in songs and poems and little ditties
to scare the kids into rarified submission. i thought
of stopping, but then the programming from my youth
kicked in and i sideswiped him and continued on.
i finally reached mopar's, just in time i might add,
because his condo was about to be torn down in order
to put up some slums next to a prize winning golf
course designed by chi chi rodriguez. i gave him the
powder and he handed me a bowl. i asked him why he
didn't use the chili powder that i had just brought.
he looked over his shoulder and answered a little
nervously. there's a man in the back with a gun
pointed at my head, he said. he broke in earlier to
steal my chili powder, but i had used it all on the
chili that i was slow-cooking. (excellent! he slow
cooks his chili too! i can't wait to try it!) so he
forced me to call someone and bring me some more while
he holds me hostage. (later i found out that the
disgruntled chili thief was a contestant in the chili
cookoff nearby and needed some more to bring up the
spice level. but at this time in the story, i did not
know that) i asked him why he didn't just give the man
his chili and be done with it. he looked at me matter
of factly and said, "he doesn't like beans in his
chili."
and so ends another day in the continuing story of
the life that i like to imagine for myself...
- From the broken mind of Casey Wagner
Once Upon a Time...
Once upon a time there was this chubby kid named Pugsley and he was very sad. His father had just given him a haircut. Pugsley was upset because the only kind of haircuts that his father knew how to give were crewcuts with the clippers. The clippers scared Pugsley. The noise that the clippers made sounded like an angry lion trying to chomp on Pugsleys head. Pugsley was so scared on the bar stool that he sat on when his father gave him his clippered cut that he almost messed himself. Shaking his head Pugsley made a promise to himself. "The next time he gives me a haircut," he thought to himself, "I will do something so evil that he will never want to give me a haircut again." Then he wondered aloud, "Hhmm, what could I do?"
He thought and he thought, he thought some more and he kept on thinking. Pugsley picked up his baseball bat and started swinging his baseball bat trying to think of a plan. He started swinging the baseball bat and hitting the maple tree outside with long hard strokes. He still couldn't' think of anything even though he left a three inch divot in the side of the tree.
Then he went to his bedroom and took out his cigar box that he kept underneath his bed. "I'll play with my jackknife collection, that usually helps me think". He took his ten swiss army knives and opened them all up and tried to hit the bullseye that he had made out of a bulletin board. Even though he hit three bullseyes he still could not come up with any plans to end his evil haircut episodes with his father...So Pugsley decided to go for a walk. He knew that fresh air was good for him and maybe it would help him come up with a plan.
As Pugsley was walking, he noticed a trail that went off the path that he usually followed. He had never noticed this before and decided to see where it went. The trail he was following started to get dense and thick with foliage. He was about to turn around when it opened up into a clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a covered wagon with a tent next to it. He thought that it looked like it came from some old gypsy caravan that he recently read about in history class. But then he thought, "What would it be doing here in Idaho?" He approached the encampment to see if anyone was around.
Before he could even investigate the area, a voice called from inside the tent. "Come in young Pugsley," came the voice of a frail sounding old lady. His curiousity got the better of him and he went inside.
The canvas was damp as he pulled back the flap and he entered the curious looking tent. To his amazement there was a man only three feet high smoking a corn cob pipe and as he sucked on the pipe smoke came out of his butt.
"H-H-H-Hello? H-H-H-How did you know my name?" asked Pugsley.
"He didn't, I did you numnutz! What? do you think your are dreaming?" and a midget woman appeared out of the cloud of smoke behind the midget man. She had the oddest shaped head; it was flat on top and she had a crazy lisp when she talked. Pugsley noticed that she didn't have any teeth.
"Why you look at me with such a face for? Oh well, I suppose you can't help it," she chuckled at her own joke.
"I don't think I should be here," Pugsley said a little nervously and turned around to walk out the way he came in but the door wasn't there. Pugsley gasped. "What, what? What? Where am I?" he stuttered.
"What?" said the midget lady.
The midget man finally spoke and said "What?"
"How do I get out of here!" exclaimed Pugsley in a panic.
"Relax lad," spoke the little old lady. "We're here to help you fulfill a wish you have."
"I don't understand," cried the boy, "How do you know what I was thinking?"
"When the will is strong, the mind projects. And a few of us know how to listen to such thoughts. Now, how can we help you?" said the woman as the little old man extinguished his butt out on the earthen floor.
"All I really wanted to do is scare my dad so he won't cut my hair anymore. He gives me crewcuts and I don't like the electric razor he uses. It feels like my head is getting sawed off," said Pugsley who was now starting to feel comfortable around these strangers.
"Maybe we should cut your head off." said the old lady with a wry smile and cackling laugh, "That would be sure to scare him!"
"Uh, what?" replied Pugsley as he could feel his bladder start to quiver.
"Look at him, Harvey, I think I scared him," the old lady laughed outright and poked the old man in the shoulder.
"Uh," said the old man and went back to taking a nap. The old lady gave the old man a disgusted look, and shook her head. Mumbling she hobbled around the tent as if she was looking for something. Pugsley thought it was an opportune time to try and find the exit while the midget lady wasn't looking. He touched the sides of the tent trying to find the opening and a shock ripped through his whole body sending him across the tent. Of course Pugsley kept getting thrown from one side of the tent to the other side of the tent getting electrocuted.
"HOLY CHRIST!!!!!" the old lady exclaimed and hit Pugsley with her cane and knocked him out of the air. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??" the old lady screamed. The old man quickly covered his face and sighed with relief when he realized she was talking to Pugsley. "Well," she chuckled, "looks like you came to your own solution," and whacked Pugsley upside the head with her cane. "I think our work here is done Harvey..."
Pugsley woke up on the forest floor. He had no idea what happened to him and he got up and scratched his head. "OH MY GOD - I'M BALD!" As Pugsley was walking home, he was trying to figure
out exactly what had happened to him. He wanted to scare his father and what happened instead was that he got scared. He didn't want his father to give him a crewcut anymore, especially
with the dreaded clippers. Now he had no hair. He thought and he thought why this turn of events had occured to him. Suddenly it hit him like a block of cheese to the kabeeza. What he encountered in the woods is what some of the locals call the Right-Back-Atchya demons. They are said to inhabit the woods and take people's bad wishes and turn them against them. It finally all made sense. Pugsley's face lit up and he couldn't help but laugh. He would never need a haircut again and his father would never be able to use his clippers again! As he was thinking this, Pugsley tripped on a rock and fell down and broke a tooth.
- co-written by Amos and the broken mind of Casey Wagner
Willie Musings...
got cozy on the couch with a bottle of rum last night. watched the prez for a while. you know, slick willie would make a great actor. during his speech, he had such a gleam in his eyes and at times i thought he would start to cry. i suppose showmanship is a necessary quality for any president. but i think his has gotten him everything...including getting him out of some tight spots. gotta admit, despite his faults and immoral behavior for such a high profile figurehead, i kinda like the guy. haven't seen any of
the new batch that has the same sort of fire and passion. they remind me of those generic food items you see in grocery stores; the kind in just the white containers or packages that just have what's inside on the front - like "tortilla chips" or "beer". i
visualize an aisle that looks like all cereal boxes but they're all white and all they say is "candidate". scary thought...even scarier is the thought that a man of somewhat loose morals could have brought so much prosperity to our country. we're not a utopia yet, i know. but it's nice to know that if i decide to just up and quit my job (been there, done that), i can look
in the paper and find something else. i think i like him because he's like the rest of us. we all have our faults...some (like me) have more than others. but our faults usually pale in comparison to our strong points - those which help us to rise above our faults and almost render them trivial. who knows, i could be way off the mark here, (maybe it's residual rum-speak) but i also believe that it's the recognition of our bad side that can make us stronger.
- From the broken mind of Casey Wagner
The Prince of Craptonia
Well, it's time to return to my own people now. I have never told anyone this, but, I am actually Prince Casey Wagner, Esquire, and I am heir to the crown of the small country of Craptonia. My father, King Wagner the Beefeater, made me come to this country and observe it's people. I have lived a very privileged and sheltered life and my father wanted me to have an understanding of the common folk. He believed it would make me a better ruler when I take over. Thanks to you, I do believe it has! I have learned to enjoy the simpler pleasures that life has to offer. No more hunting rhinos in Botswana or having a thousand year old Sequoia cut down so I could have a fancy toothpick. I will now hang out with my subjects at the local tavern in the heart of downtown Craptonia City. So may "The Powers That Be" keep you all healthy and free from doom!
Yours truly,
Prince Casey Wagner, Esquire
PS...If you're ever in Craptonia, look me up. I'm in the big castle on top of the hill.
- From the broken mind of Casey Wagner
Discovery?
Here's the smackdown on the wicked mo-fo's with their
razor sharp teeth - GET OVER IT!
Leave us alone! You had your chance and you blew it!
We gave you all that we had and that still wasn't good
enough for you! You lied, you cheated...you took away the very best part of me and left me hollow inside.
We'll never be able to look at you the same again so don't come crawling back now! For some things, there is no redemption and no
forgiveness. You're going to have to live with this for the rest of your life - and we say good to that! You deserve nothing more and nothing less. I hope that bitter taste in your mouth is the bile from the pit where a heart should reside because if
it wasn't for you, we would all be much more happy. So as I hang up now, remember this, NO! I DO NOT want the rewarding benefits of a Discover Card!
Now go burn in hell you lascivious demon-spawned
vixen from a bad 70's B-movie!
- From the broken mind of Casey Wagner
Let it Shine
So dis old woman caem out from dee insite of me again, 'bout ow a friend doen wanna play on dee stage...tis da wisdom dee ole lady spoke from insite of me....
yous got a little bit o dee stage fright I'm toeld...
Well, chile, when I talk of dee angah dat I hold inside when I am on dee stage... it might work for dis woman but it may not be dat it will work for dat man... I'm tawkin bout choo boy.... and doen
roll dem eyes at me now.... I am da queen of dat stage fright, you know. Da first time I got dee gumption to get on dat stage at dat Mission Coffee House I played sittin down on a round stool with my back faysin dee awdeeyance. And even dem peeple day say, "Turn round." But I doen turn round and ohhhh how my body it did shake. Twas like an earthquake up dere and it was no good let me tell ya. I played on a semi trailer dat was up high off dee groun and aftah I played for some oh 200 peeple far dee burnt toast crowd outside I jumped down and almost broke my legs and ran all da way to dee parkin lot like dere were deamons chasin me and dee only deamon see was me. See. It ain't bout what dem peeple tink of da musac dat cha play but what music you play from inside dat place inside you. You know what I'm tawkin bout I know.... it's dat wat dem peeple ar lookin far. Someone kin play dat music with the willies in der fingahs doen do so good but when dey alone dey in dat place and close dem eyes and its demselves dat has dat musac - deres no preshah to please, dey are only to please demselves.... ya know what I speak of? I am certain you do... you got dat glow in yer eyes and maybe its like dat small chile who got to learn how to swim. So dee oldah man he trow dat chile in dah watah and say, "It's time far you to swim now." Maybe dat ain't what you got goen on far you but sometime ya got ta git dat deamon dat chase ya, get ja back to it and turn round and close dem eyes or look down and play whacha got in dat place dat is called your soul. Aint nobody in dere but you. Listen wit dem ears and you play whats in dat soul and dats ow ya git on dat stage and play. And if ya play like shit (heh heh) no mattah - doen mean nothin tew dem peeple like it means sometin tew you. Yor friends may know and give ya dere blessin and dere tanks and you know it is sincere - you know... I hoep dat explains tings fer dis man who has dis "I ain't good enough" attitude. I hoep dat dis man takes his "ain't" out o dat ansah and he change it to "I is"..... Doen go askin me bout why I talk dis way. It's on dem rare times of seriousness and typin dat dis serious woman comes out. You go on - sleep, get dat welcome home cold out o dose tired bones and git ready far a summar of new beginnings...everyting goen be irie.... jah...
- Central Wisconsin Irie Lady
Really Expensive Gas, Honestly
As I walked up to the counter to pay for my really expensive gas, I pulled up my pants real high. In an old geezer voice I announced, "Who wants to suck my thumb?" I kept on, "It's a very good thumb, well worth sucking." The response I got from the clerk was nothing more than "I've seen it all and even this doesn't surprise me." Discouraged that no one else in the store paid any attention to me, I paid for my really expensive gas and left.
As I got into my souped up Ford Pinto, I realized I still had my pants up high because I was now smack dab in the mother of all grundies. Grimacing a little, but also enjoying it some too, I readjusted my package and sped away cutting off
some pill in a Lincoln.
Cruising down Magnolia towards the ocean is always one of my favorite things to do on a warm summer day. Unfortunately, it was winter and I was in Wisconsin. I
wanted the dream to persist but someone had to make sure my souped up Pinto with the deluxe chrome rear view mirror would get me home. One of the many benefits of being a Pinto owner is that no one crowds you when your driving down the road. In fact, you could be a real prick if you wanted to. Cut people off, tailgate, whatever. All they have to see is that emblem of a horse on my car and they know to keep their shiny cars with the really expensive gas the hell out of my way.
As I approached the intersection of Magnolia and Katella I noticed a beautiful
young lady running down the sidewalk in a full on sprint. I didn't have to be a safe stopping distance away to realize that she was scared as hell and running for her life. Now I see this quite often and I usually opt to just keep on driving just like everybody else. This time however was different, I guess. Maybe
it was because of the terror I saw in her eyes. More than likely it was because she was almost naked. Only a thin red G string and bra covered a frame that I could tell was quite voluptuous.
I sped up and hopped the Pinto onto the sidewalk right beside her and opened the door. In a calm, cool, calculating voice I said, "How you doin'?" She jumped into my cruiser and slammed the door so hard all in one action that one of her breasts popped out. I was very surprised by her response. "Get me the hell out of here right now and there's more where that came from," she said as she tucked her perfectly round breast away. "That's all I need to hear," I said as I slammed my Pinto into gear and sped away.
I continued looking into my deluxe chrome rear view mirror until the area in which I picked up this pretty, little, barely clothed woman faded from view; and I never did see any one or thing that could be chasing her. And she just sat there, her heavy breathing starting to subside, looking straight ahead and not acknowledging me one bit. Normally I don't mind this too much, I like the quiet. And this was no exception since I was able play the perv and check out this woman's nubile form. Blonde, but not too blonde, hair running down just over her shoulders. A faint smell of rosemary mixed with a bit of perspiration co-mingling to provide a scent that was a pheromone dancing inside my brain. Looking down her body (I hope the Pinto can drive itself for awhile) I already
paid my respects to her well formed breasts. Checking the abs and thighs I came to the realization that cellulite was not an issue with this woman. I'd also like to add that she did not have a lot of body hair. Too much can be a real turn off for me (not that I was looking for any kind of real meaningful relationship here - just some quick hot sex with maybe a little butter on the
side).
After driving for so long in one direction, I could not hold my tongue any longer. "What the hell is going on here?!" I said. "Usually I don't stop for crazy women who are running down the street in a panic with very little clothes on."
"Then why did you stop for me?" she queried.
"Because it looked like you had a nice body," I said.
Honesty has always been one of my best/worst qualities.
- From the broken mind of Casey Wagner
All text copyright © 2000 Broken Mind Musings