Sally Shops for a Halloween Feast – Part Two © WTW, 2014
by William Whiting
Sally cordially invites you to come inside. She senses that you’re feeling a little bit depressed due to the seasonal light change that accompanies autumn weather.
Sally beckons you to join her. She wants to show you her latest catch. She’s been on the hunt for something special to roast for her Halloween feast. Sally is playing hooky from reality again. She does that — and when that happens, Sally starts feeling fidgety and all out of focus. Before you know it, one of her spells starts coming on. When Sally senses a spell — dark autumnal things can happen. When out of nowhere, those infernal neighborhood children started pelting her with rotten eggs, chanting “cat killer, cat killer” over and over again. And while children might be both tender and delicious, she only eats the flesh of men, and has no idea what’s happened to the neighborhood cats. Sally has her own appetites.
Sally considered using one of her poison blow-darts on the children, but thought better of it, taking into consideration she has a gentleman caller waiting inside. As you may recall in our last episode, that poor unfortunate Geoffrey has been chained to the stair hall radiator. Sally sat on the can while running a scalding hot bath. She felt that Geoffrey would need to be brined in the bathtub with exotic seasonings while she poked him with a fork. As a religious man, Sally was sure he’d be juicy and delectable, but it’s always best to prepare a marinade. Meanwhile out in the hallway, Geoffrey was regaining consciousness, and wondering if his kitties had been fed. Little did he know that Sally had plans for he, himself to become a serving of tender vittles.
Poor, poor Geoffrey. Everything was all in a haze. He’d only wanted a room to call his own–for himself and the thirty-seven cats he’d acquired over the past year or so — with several more kittens on the way. He considered himself an animal advocate and not a “hoarder” as his current landlord kept crudely implying. Now here he was chained to a radiator not entirely clear about what had transpired. All he knew was that some hot chick had been standing over him with a fork in her hand talking about how sweet he was going to be. He thought he already WAS sweet, but he’d like to be set free from his constraints and allowed to return home to his kitties.
While the hot bath was running, Sally came to visit Geoffrey who was still in a daze as he laid trapped on the floor. She stood over him and reached into her pocket to retrieve the handcuff keys, when she inadvertently pricked her finger with one of her blow-darts and promptly collapsed to the floor. It might take Sally a while to sleep this one off. Geoffrey strained and strained until he was but a fraction of an inch from those illusive keys–still in Sally’s hand. If only he had something to extend his reach. he kicked off a shoe, and tried to leverage the key closer with his foot, but that only pushed Sally’s hand further away. It was then that Sally’s body jerked in an involuntary spasm as the tranquilizer dart took full effect, catapulting the key just barely within his reach.
Quickly as he could, Geoffrey grabbed the key and freed himself. He put his shoes back on the wrong feet, grabbed his hat and went staggering out the front door–stumbling down the alley like a drunkard. To him, it seemed like an eternity, but in no time at all, he was several blocks away. Dazed, hazed and confused, poor Geoffrey tripped over a cobblestone and knocked himself unconscious — falling out of his shoes as his hat tumbled from his brow. He laid there out-cold for quite some time, until a good Samaritan called for an ambulance to whisk him away to the nearest hospital. He was bleeding quite profusely from his cranium, and every bit as unconscious as he was when he pretended to be paying attention during a Sunday prayer meeting.
All the while Geoffrey was in the ER being treated for a concussion, Sally was slowly coming-to. She was furious at her own carelessness, and flew into such a rage that she could barely scrape herself off the ceiling. Meanwhile, poor Geoffrey had no spectacles, no wallet and no keys–but even worse, he had no idea who he was or how he’d landed in the hospital. He didn’t even know his own name. Nor did he recall the events from earlier that same evening. Reaching into his pocket, all he could find was the torn-off back page of Watchtower Magazine with a telephone number scrawled on it. He handed the piece of paper to the nurse who promised to make arrangements to have him released and picked-up.
Sally couldn’t have been more pleased when she answered the phone and learned of an anonymous gentleman in need of being picked up from the hospital. She told the nurse that it must be her poor, drunken husband, Geoffrey. He probably fell down while doing drugs and alcohol again. The nurse told Sally what a “sainted lady” she must be, caring for a swaggering drunkard such as he. Again, Sally blanched at the words “sainted” and “lady” as she put on her coat to go and fetch the poor hapless soul who awaited her.
Would you like to see how Sally received the call? Click here: Sally Gets a Phone Call
To be continued…