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I WROTE A STORY A LONG TIME AGO CALLED 'NIGHT OF THE BAND SAW'

Posted By: Morgan
Date: Friday, 1-April-2016 15:34:24


It was a tongue in cheek tale of a dude who cut himself in half with a band saw, and his psychopomp (my alter ego) playing with him, making him think he survived the incident in a not terribly consoling fashion. I wrote it in humourous state of mind, and then I go to best gore to find people do survive being cut in half, and the guy slapped his palm on his forehead, not believing it. So here's another page on what you don't want happening to you that is not best gore, being I can't post that link here.

https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=people%20surviving%20getting%20cut%20in%20half

And for those who missed the story:

NIGHT OF THE BAND SAW
I don't remember any pain. I was so badly drugged, I barely remember hitting the switch. I knew one thing, though. I wasn't ready for this.

I awoke. I was still on the table. Or at least the top half of me was. I didn't know about the rest of me...for a few seconds, anyway.

Someone had their hand on my head. He came around to face me. The hand was gloved. He wore a white silk shirt with cravat, black velvet vest, a high collared jacket of black velvet, black velvet breeches, Victorian riding boots, and a cape. He had a pretty nice looking face with striking turquoise eyes, a long, tasteful, heavily layered, deep red mullet, and a nose that must have made up at least half of his body weight.

"Haloo! How ya doin'?" The accent was Celtic. I don't know if it was Irish, Scottish, or what. I mean, how's an American to know? Not that he gave me time to answer, if I even had an answer. I was still too dazed to be fully aware of the fact that I had just cut myself in half via a band saw, and I was being talked to, as I was in two pieces. It turned out, the bottom half of my body was on the table.

“Uhhhhhh...”

"I'm Stefan," said the redhead, too cheerfully to comprehend under these circumstances. As he said, "So, you actually cut yourself in two." he picked up an entrail, and lifted it up. "I gotta tell ya! You had more guts than I ever had."

"Uh...uh..."

Stefan's face then registered disgust, as he dropped the entrail part on the table. "Ye gods, this is soooooooo garoooooooooss! I swear, I do declare. Couldn't you have picked another way?"

I was coming to. I think I was about to cry. "Oh no! Don't tell me I'm still alive?!" I whispered.

"OK. I won't." I wasn't gonna get any sympathy outta this guy, from the looks of it. "Nice lookin' legs, mon. Too bad I already had lunch," he added.

I'd worn shorts and a T-shirt for the occasion, and yes; I cringed at what he said. He smiled at me, and man; the dude had fangs. I about had a heart attack.

"Am I dead, or am I dreaming?" I asked in horror, my voice still a weak whisper.

He came back up to me. "Quinn, Quinn, my dearest Quinn." I wasn't going to ask how he knew my name. I'd never seen him before. He stroked his finger down my nose, with the hand that had not held up the intestine. "With this sorry excuse of the nose you got, I'd rather I hope I was dead if I were you; but you might have different priorities."

OK. I was having the worst nightmare of my life. I was on a table in two pieces, still alive, some total asshole found me, and I was now being subject to the worst psychological torture in the history of psychology not only from circumstances, but also from this idiot of a nose who fancied himself Count Dracula, or something. "I can't still be alive!" Would I ever be able to talk above a whisper again?

"Want me to fix that? I have a big cat in the other room. Percy might be hungry. Cats usually like their prey dead before they eat. But he might be in the mood for the bottom half. Shall I bring 'im in to see?"

"Please don't." I didn't need to be finished off by a big cat. "Can you please bash my head in, or cut my head off, or something? Please finish me off. I can't live like this!"

"Have you ever tried? Want me to call 911, and see if they can sew you back together again at the hospital? But they might keep you for observation for having attempted suicide. They did that to me once."

Like I really cared about that right now. "Why no pain?"

"You're in shock, dude. I know all about that, too. I lost the tip of my 'tude finger when I was a youngster, and I felt no pain. You asked me to cut your head off. Ya know, it's pretty rare to survive band saw incidents like what you did to yourself. If I did cut your head off, wouldn't it be neat if...I mean, did ya ever see that killer B-flick, 'The Brain That Wouldn't Die' with that chick who's fiancé kept 'er head alive until he could provide it with another body?"

I got my voice back. "THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!"

"But it is happening. Otherwise we're both hallucinating up the Yin Yang, and I don't think so."

Suddenly another figure appeared in front of me. Tall, alabaster white, neon-red eyes, absolutely stunning for a dude, and he was also fanged I found, as he snarled, "Stefan, enough of this. I should have known better than to let you take this case from the way you begged, ye bleedin' neep noddle." He pointed at me, and waved his hand over me. I suddenly appeared to exist in my entirety. "Quinn, you are dead. Stefan was creating the illusion for you that you weren't. He's got a sadistic sense of humour, and I'm sorry for what he just did to you." Another Celtic accent!

I sat up, and saw reality as it was. Both of my body parts really were on the floor, there was blood and guts all over the place, and it was as gruesome as hell. "Oh man! Stefan, you are a complete piece of shit."

Stefan smiled, flicked both of his wrists in front of himself simultaneously; lifted one foot off the floor behind him self, and said "Thank yew," in the gayest accent I ever heard.

I just had to laugh. "Dude! I heard you right when you threatened me with being like the head from 'The Brain That Wouldn't Die'?"

"Yeah. You saw the flick. I found that out when I scanned your mind. You know, what you did; as well as the motivation behind what you did was pretty uncool. Just getting back at your wife because she got sick of you and took another lover? Looking back on it, don't you think you kind of deserved what I gave you, not to mention you are going to have to do another round in the Physical Realm for how you exited this last life."

I just shrugged. "Figures. I always did believe in reincarnation, and I read about that happening, but I didn't care. Desire for revenge generally over-rides common sense, no? I'm still glad I did it, and I still can't wait to see what happens when Lizardbreath finds the body. Now can I ask you two a question?"

Thanatos asked, "The fangs? Oh, they're just cosmetic. Bloodsuckers, we aren't. Liz is going to scream and pass out."

"Can I watch, anyway? And maybe stay until she comes to?" I asked.

"Man, this guy sounds like me," said Stefan.

Thanatos looked down, and shook his head. "Ye gods."

"Well, can we?" I asked.

Thanatos looked at me. "I suppose so."

Stefan then pointed at me. "Your next round in life. You know what might make it easier, and help you accomplish all you've set out to accomplish?"

"What?"

"Arrange to be born with a bigger nose."

Thanatos pointed at Stefan. "STEFAN, GET OUT OF HERE. YOU ARE FIRED FROM THIS CASE. AND IF YOU DO THIS ONE MORE TIME, YOU ARE OUT OF A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


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