IT'S - Chapter 10

"Now We Lay Us Down to Sleep, After the Horror, and Before We Die"
- (Dan Culberson)

A gasp ran through the room as Dan told the others what Lt. F.O. had revealed about Johnny's death.

Len looked puzzled and asked, "Who's Johnny? Why am I here?"

Dave added to the internationally accented confusion, instead of offering a rejoinder: "Yeah, I seem to remember something about all of you, this place, and something else too horrible to mention, but it's just not coming back to me -- eh?"

"Oh contrary," Angus joked, "that's where you're oh-so-wrong-oh. That's the whole point of everything. IT'S is coming back."

"Wait a minute!" Dan jumped in before Len could correct Angus's grammar. "Angus is right. He's also correct. Now, apparently some of you have forgotten some, most, or all of what happened here in 1961, and I'm not blaming it on the Sixties, nor am I overlooking the fact that Evelyn hadn't even been born yet. She is excused through the miracle of literary license and Hollywood oversight. However, she will appear in all the flashbacks, because she is an important member of The Winners Club(TM) and because she didn't ask to be born when and where she was."

"None of us did," Dave mumbled.

"For the rest of you, however, for some strange reason you have blocked out of your CPUs everything you could of the horror we went through back here back then. I think psychologists call that 'repression.'"

"And I think we now call it 'memory' instead of 'CPU,'" Bob drolled.

"Wipe your chin," Delores suggested to Bob, misunderstanding.

"Well, I remember everything," Evelyn offered, "and I'd be willing to fill you all in -- memory-wise, not even knowing or caring what a 'see-pee-you' is -- and even though I couldn't be here before. I've done all the required reading, and I'm looking forward to the flashbacks along with the rest of you. I remember it all just as if we had taped it this afternoon. . . ."

Subdivision 1: "In the Lair of IT'S/1961"

"Whew, it's dark down here," Johnny says, glad to be able to get back into the story. "How far down do you think we are now?"

"How far do ye want to be?" Lenbie counters, always the debater and rhymer.

"Shhh," Angus shushes. "I thought I heard something."

"Probably just my heart pounding," Dee whispers meekly, looking down to where she hopes her breasts will start appearing soon. "Be still, my heart," she says, taking Danny's hand. "Why did we have to come down here, anyway?"

"This is probably where IT'S hiding out," Danny whispers, taking his hand back. He doesn't want the others to know that he and Dee are sweet on each other, even though everybody already knows and nobody cares and everyone can't see that well in the dark anyway, and no one would have thought anything about holding hands, considering the circumstances, especially since Dee is a girl. He takes her hand then, because she is a girl.

"How did ye spell 'ITS' then?" Lenbie asks, always the stickler.

"Shhh!" Angus shushes again. "I think we're getting close. What do the rest of you think?"

"I don't care, but I wish I wasn't here," Evie says, taking Danny's other hand. "I wish we were already there."

"Me, too," Bobby says from the back. "And you should have said 'I wish I weren't here' back there."

"Ditto": Davey.

"Now, the way I see it --," Alan starts.

"Can't see naught," Lenbie double-negatives.

"The way I see it," Alan restarts, "is we've been called on by some higher power to mission something here, and we've got to see it through to the end. When Miss Thistlebottom showed up in class Monday morning after that horrible episode in Chapter 4, we all knew we were not dealing with some little old spinster schoolteacher. That's why we've been following her down here."

"No, I think we're s'posed to solution it," Davey tweaks.

"Eek!" Evie eeks.

"What is it?" Bobby questions from the rear. "Did you see IT?"

"IT'S!" Davey corrects. "How many times do we have to remind you, we agreed to call it 'IT'S.'"

"Not enough, apparently," Johnny mutters, as he always does.

"No," Evie whispers. "Somebody just goosed me from behind."

"Couldn't bloody likely goose you 'from in front,' could he?" Davey tries to joke and throw suspicion as far away from himself as possible.

Angus turns a corner and the others bump into him, Evie, Danny, and Dee, left-to-right and still holding hands; Davey and Lenbie, shoulder-to-shoulder; Johnny; Alan; and Bobby.

"Ow! Watch it!" Angus exclaims.

"Eek!" Evie eeks.

"Hey!" Danny whispers behind him.

"Sorry, Laddy," Lenbie apologizes.

"Me, too," Davey grumbles.

"Uh," Alan says, just to join in.

"Quiet!" Johnny cries out incongruously. "You'll wake IT'S up."

"How do you know IT'S sleeping?" Bobby asks, glad to be able to join the dialogue.

"'IT'S's," Davey corrects, thankful again to throw attention away from himself.

Branch 2: "Johnny in the Hot Seat/Currently"

". . . which, of course, we couldn't possibly have done, since we all weren't here then," Evelyn finished.

"Right-toe," Len agreed. "This PEE EM I could have sworn I was in rainy Amsterdam in my favorite Brazilian restaurant (with oriental waitbodies) with a pint of my favorite and a couple of my friends, talking about my favorite subject."

"What's that? Guiness?" Bob asked.

"No, shop," Len answered.

"But, I don't understand," Delores said. "How'd you get here, then, Len?"

"I don't, either, or know. I have never been able to understand the distortions of timespace. All I know is, I went to use the facilities, heard someone behind me say, 'It's time,' looked in the mirror, saw an old lady made up to look like a clown, turned around to tell 'er to get the 'ell out, saw no one, turned back to the mirror, saw 'er still there laughing silently, and then she disappeared in a puff of green smoke. I blacked out and woke up walking down here from Nederland. And it was bloody cold!"

"Hell, I had to drive here from Texas," Bob grumbled.

"I had to fly," Dave muttered, ". . . and, boy, are my arms tired."

"We, two," Delores smiled, looking at Dan.

"Come on," Dan said, embarrassed, "the point is, we're all here like we promised years ago, it's time, IT'S's here, it's IT'S's time, IT'S wants its revenge, and there's a job to be done."

"But, we're not all here," Angus corrected. "Johnny's not here."

"I know. Nor is Alan. The best I could find out is that he's somewhere in Europe. Anywhere from Scotland to the Balkans."

"Yeah," Bob said, "and neither's Warwick."

Group 3: "IT'S Coming Back"

"Hey! Come on, fellers," Wickie calls from up ahead. "I found a door!"

"And 'gals,'" Dee corrects him under her breath.

They have been struggling along in darkness, holding onto each other and each other's hands, but when they follow the sound of Wickie's voice, they come to a corner, and when they turn the corner, they are all bathed in a soft eerie green light that seems to come from under and around a three-foot-high stone door before which Wickie the point boy is standing.

"Cool!" Johnny says.

"Why is it so small?" Angus says, touching it.

"Trolls, no doubt," Evie mutters. "Let's go back."

"What's that mark on it?" Bobby asks.

"It looks like a dollar sign," Dee says.

"No," Lenbie points out and at it, "more like a pound sign."

"Which one?" Johnny says.

"That one right there," Lenbie says.

"No," Johnny says, "I mean, which kind of a pound sign? A money pound sign or a typewriter pound sign?"

"Money pound sign."

"Looks like a Canadian dollar sign to me," Davey says.

"What's the difference?" Danny says. "Can you open it?"

"Don't know," Wickie shrugs. "I was waiting for you guys. Besides, I'm tired of leading. I'm not going through it until all the rest of you have gone first. And, besides, Evie," he says, taking her hands, "if you really want to go back, I'll go with you. We could run off together. I think I saw a very dark shortcut back there."

Before Evie can answer, a low, rumbling noise begins seeping from under the door, a constant throbbing like the machinery in the bowels of a huge ship, constantly permeating the senses of all its inhabitants, but fading in and out in volume like in a bad dream.

"What's that?" Johnny cries out.

"I'm outta here!" Wickie yells, releasing Evie's hands and darting off into the darkness.

"Darn!" Evie sighs, watching Wickie disappear. "Just when I thought I was going to get lucky."

"Come on," Danny says, trying to restore order and keep them going. "We've got to keep on keeping on. This door means something. It's a key, and we've got to go through it."

"If it's locked, we don't have a key," Bobby says.

"And we don't have a clue," Angus offers.

"I've always loved that game," Dee laughs, trying to lighten the mood, if not the gloom. "Colonel Mustard did it in the library with the rope."

"I'd like to do it," Johnny says. "Anywhere . . . with practically anything."

"Been there, done that," Lenbie brags. "Played that gig. And, besides, shouldn't we wait for Alan?"

"Don't worry, I'm here," Alan says, walking out of the gloom.

Danny pushes on the door and is surprised it opens so easily. The throbbing of the pseudo-machinery becomes so intense that it would have hurt their ears and seared their brains if they had thought about it. But at that moment their future memories start deteriorating, as they all reach a kilometerstone in their young lives. . . .

Member 4: "Those Oldies But Goodies"

Wickie stops running when he smacks up against a stone wall in the dark.

"JEEZ-us H. CHRIST!" he cries out.

"Mister Christ to you," says a voice in his head. "You don't know me that well."

"What the --?"

"Don't say it," Evie whispers from beside him. "Don't spoil the mood."

"Evie!" Wickie cries, shocked and surprised, but more happy than either.

"Shhh," Evie continues to whisper, and she reaches her arms around his neck. Wickie can barely make her out in the darkness, but he thinks he has died and gone to heaven.

"Don't know about the second part, but I can certainly help you out with the first," Evie hisses in his ear just before sticking her tongue in it.

"What?" Wickie sputters, sensing that something is very wrong with his dreams come true.

"Want a balloon?" Evie says seductively. "They float."

Wickie draws back in horror. He knew it was too good to be true and too true to be good. This isn't Evie.

"KEE-rect!" Miss Thistlebottom sneers. "Give that boy a passing grade! And what else does he receive, Don Pardo?"

A powerful, familiar TV game-show voice floats down from out of the darkness above them.

"Miss T, our lucky Winners Club winner also receives a fabulous trip to No-Memory Land. That's ri-i-ight. Not Disneyland, not Iceland, not Gondwanaland, not even Greenland, but beautiful, happy-go-lucky No-Memory Land. Never to return. Good-by-y-y-y-y-ye."

Wickie is frozen in shock. Miss Thistlebottom's smile grows so large, it melts over her face. Her tweed suit starts turning black, and long ugly hairs start popping out of it as the crazy old woman metamorphoses into a huge, horrible, black spider.

"The better to eat you with, my dear," she hisses, raising her stinger high above his head. "Believe me, your tiny teeny brain would never be able to accept my true form, and so your mind is making me out to be something you can handle. A spider. Funny, no? But, you'd better do something about that stinger. Spiders don't have stingers."

Wickie feels like a tiny trapped fly, and the only thing he can do is cry out in a teeny voice, "help me . . . help me . . . help me."

IT'S rips his face off.

"Summertime Big Blues," IT'S mutters, preparing to dine.

Partition 5: "IT'S . . . Monty Python"

Power is mine, vengeance is mine, everything is mine. I am the beginning. I am the middle. I am the end. I am everyone's worst fear. I am the word, and in the beginning, middle, and end is, am, and was the word.

Stupid little twits. Annoying little persistent, pimply-faced gits. Who do they think they are? I eat them for breakfast. I gnaw them for brunch. I suck on their brains for lunch. I savor them for snacks. I devour them for dinner and slurp them up for supper. I play with them for food. I terrorize them, I torment them, and then I taste them. They are nothing without me. They are like tiny, frightened employees wondering what tomorrow might bring along with their paycheck: a new manager? A new officemate? A new assignment? A new life?

Grow up, boys and girls. Childhood's over. There ain't no such thing as a free lunch anymore nor less.

This one tastes too much like mutton. The eyes are tasty, though. Fear always adds an extra spice of chemical to the eyes. Like to pop them in like popcorn. Sometimes slurp on the testes. Sometimes finish up with the fannies. Whatever suits my fancy, and a pretty little fancy it is, too.

IT'S. What a joke!

IT'S. Who cares? IT is all. IT'S all. Th-th-th-that's all, Folks!

Now, on to the others. I'm still hungry.

Subdivision 6: "Warwick, We Hardly Knew You"

"Who?" Len asked.

"Don't say 'Hoo'; it draws owls," Dave tried to joke.

"I believe that's 'Don't say "Hey"; it draws horses,'" Angus offered.

"No, no," Bob muttered and foddered. "Gramma-tically speaking, that's 'Don't think spiders; it draws flies.'"

"What has four wheels and flies?" Dan couldn't help saying.

"Garbage truck," Dave said. "Too easy. What's the difference between a duck?"

"Guys! Guys!" Delores took control, as per usual. "We're getting off the track here."

"Woo! Woo!" Dan still couldn't help saying, sounding like an engine going down track #9. "Number nine. . . . Number nine."

"Too obscure," Angus continued to play the game. "Help me if you can, I'm feeling down."

"Okay, okay!" Evelyn also couldn't help herself. "What IS the difference between a duck?"

"One leg is both the same!" Dan and Dave said in unison.

"Hmmpf," Evelyn hummpfed.

"Guys," Delores pleaded. ". . . and Gal. It's getting dark, it's starting to rain, and IT'S gonna get us if we don't get IT'S first. Can we please stop the joking and get down to serious business?"

"As opposed to funny business?" Bob said, just as Dan said quickly, "How do you get down off an elephant?"

"You don't get down off an elephant," Dave muttered. "You get down off a duck."

"Or a goose," Len said.

"Eek!" Evelyn eeked, jumping out of Dave and Len's reach, not knowing why but suddenly remembering the past more clearly now.

Dave and Len stood there sheepishly with their thumbs sticking out like sore thumbs and wondering why.

"You're right," Bob said to Delores, as well as the others, while looking out at the pouring rain through the picture window.

"Your right what?" Dave said, still trying to divert attention from himself after all these years.

"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" Len cried out, joining Dave. "If Warwick's not here and if Alan and Johnny's not here, how can we confront IT--?"

"IT'S," Angus corrected even before Len could finish.

"--'S again? Warwick's not here to lead us, Alan's who knows where, and Johnny's probably buried with his precious 1935 Strunk and White."

"Aha!" Dan said too dramatically. "Do you meannbsp;. . . THIS?" He produced John's silver-bound 1935 edition of The Elements of Style. Everyone gasped in amazement.

"Gasp."

"Gasp."

"Gasp."

"Gasp."

"GASP," Dave and Len said together. Their bonding was starting to draw attention to itself.

"Storm's coming up. I'm ready. Let's go," Angus said.

"Let's do it!" Evelyn joined in, being careful to keep her eyes on D and L.

"Done deal," Dan drawled. "We've got enough cars, we've got enough room. It's dark, and we're wearing our sunglasses."

Everyone put on his, her, and their sunglasses, coats, jackets, and parkas, grabbed his guns and her roses and, ludicrously, purses, and all started to leave in a rush, one Volkswagen, and one pickup.

However, just as Dan reached to open the front door, the doorbell rang.

"Hi," Alan said, standing there in the rain, "did I miss anything?"

Segment 7: "IT'S a Wonderful Life"

. . . and the throbbing keeps filling their brains, drumming and droning and droning and drumming and drumming and droning and droning and drumming.

"Remember that old joke: 'It sure is quiet out there'?" Davey asks, following Evie through the door. They have to stoop down low, and no one knows how symbolic this rite of passage is.

"You mean, 'Yeah, too quiet'?" Angus says, following Davey.

"Right. Nothing like an old joke," Davey says.

"Yeah, and this is nothing like an old joke," Lenbie follows through, groucho-ing with an invisible cigar.

"You're right, your left, indeedy dew," Miss Thistlebottom says. "This is . . . your . . . WORST NIGHTMARE!!!"

The thunder of Miss T's terrifying voice drowns out the drumming and droning and droning and drum-- of the previous sound effects. The nine teenagers gather into a tiny knot, Evie still watching Davey and Lenbie suspiciously. Danny puts his arms protectively around Dee, not wanting to waste a good thing.

Then they all follow suit, play their cards, and put their arms around everybody. Johnny is in the center and not liking the attention.

"Hey!" he says.

"Don't say 'hey'; it draws --" Danny starts.

"SHUT THE FLOCK UP!" Miss Thistlebottom roars, but instead of a schoolteacher, instead of a clown, instead of a manager, they see a horrible, huge, hairy black spider slowly moving toward them.

"I don't get it," Johnny says. "I've never gotten it, but what's a spider doing here?"

"It's either a cheap movie that can't afford really good special effects, or it's . . . it's . . . IT'S . . . 'IT'S'!" Danny tries to warn them.

"Outta here!" Angus screams, but he trips into Alan and falls splat on the wet, grimy floor.

"Answer me this," IT'S roars.

"Riddle me this," IT'S whispers, "and I'll set you free. I promise, I won't eat you. I won't chew your cheesy, pimply faces. I won't snap your silly little shoulders. I won't slide my tongue all-l-l-l-l over your bodies."

"Point of clarification," Lenbie says. "Do you want us to ask you a riddle or to answer your riddle?"

"You don't answer a riddle," Evie scolded. "You solve a riddle."

"Get on with it," Danny says, holding Dee and Evie tighter and bumping into Davey's arm. "What's the riddle?"

"What is your worst fear?" IT'S asks sweetly.

"That's not a riddle," Alan objects. "That's just a question. Or maybe an inquiry."

"I'LL MAKE THE RULES!" IT'S roars. Everyone and -body adds to the wetness on the already damp and dank floor.

"Getting a job," Danny tries to quiet it, IT'S.

"Growing up."

""Losing my way."

"Making a fool of myself in public."

"Never falling in love."

"Dying."

"The dark."

"Having no friends."

"Crying."

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" IT'S thunders at Bobby, who has started for the door.

"You said if we answered you, you would let us go," he says nervously.

"WRONG!!! 'Riddle me this, and I'll set you free,' I said," IT'S says. "Not one of you answered with a riddle. YOU LOSE! I'm going to eat you!"

"Eat, eat, eat," Little Red Riding Hood says. "Doesn't anyone ever screw anymore? Oops! Sorry. Wrong story."

"Okay, Smart Ass," Johnny cries out, surprising himself with his audacity. "How do you get from here to there?"

""Too easy. Add a 'T'."

"What's the difference between an elephant and peanut butter?" Angus says, always going for the food reference.

"An elephant doesn't stick to the roof of your mouth," IT'S sneers. "But you'll probably stick to mine, my precious."

"Lord of the Rings," Danny says quickly, trying to cover all bases.

"Why does an elephant have flat feet?" Bobby cries out while edging closer toward the door, wishing he hadn't said anything, but he was getting caught up in the excitement.

"From stomping out flaming ducks," IT'S laughs at them.

"What?" Lenbie says. "That doesn't make sense!"

"Part of it was left out," Davey explains. "First, you ask, 'Why do ducks have flat feet?' and you say 'From stamping out forest fires,' and then you ask 'Why do elephants have flat feet?' Of course, elephants can also have flat feet from jumping out of trees."

"Davey!" Evie cries.

"Sorry."

"What's black and white and red all over!" Danny yells, playing an ace.

"A newspaper," IT'S says, bored with the games now and moving in on them closer.

"Nope," Danny says.

"An embarrassed zebra," IT'S continues, toward them as well.

"Nope," Danny says louder and motioning the others to start toward the door.

"A sunburned nun," IT'S says, getting annoyed and closer.

"Nope," Danny defies with delight. "Quick," he whispers to the others. "I'm running out."

"A bi-racial, old-fashioned Russian couple," IT'S sneers, grasping at straws.

"Nope," Danny shakes his head to the others, desperately needing an answer. Johnny smiles and nods.

"I . . . I . . . I . . . I give up," IT'S says, puzzled and outriddled.

"A penguin in a blender!" Johnny yells as he throws the book at the apparition.

Hot stinking fluid flies out of the spider's injured eye and covers them all with slime.

"I've been slimed!" Lenbie yells, not knowing how prophetic he is and wondering why he's thinking "Ghostbusters" instead of "Gangbusters."

They all run as fast as they can toward the door, scramble as best they can through it, and scurry as swiftly as they can out of the sewers and back safely to their respective homes. Johnny, of course, had first retrieved the silver-bound Elements of Style from the floor of the sewers, thinking that it might come in handy sometime in the future.

Unit 8: "The Beast Must Die"

Christ Almighty! The hell with them! They're not worth the trouble. Frigging blinded me. Let 'em go. See how they run. How does my garden grow. One, two, buckle my shoe. What's the matter with me? What's it all about, Alfie? Is it only for the moment we live? Damn children. Wait'll they grow up. Then I'll have them by the short hairs. Then I'll have them where I want them. Then they'll all eat dirt and die.

Component 9: "The King of Rock 'n' Roll"

"Turn on the radio," Dave said. "Maybe it'll take our minds off what we're doing."

Gene Vincent's "Be-Bop-A-Lulu" floats out of the speaker.

"Cool!" Angus said. "Haven't heard that one in years. Decades even, maybe."

The song finishes, and the DJ's voice came on: "Stay tuned for more of the Warwick Shea's 'All Dead Rock Show'!" The voice is Miss Thistlebottom's.

"If you knew . . . Peggy Sue, then you'd know why I feel blue" sang the speaker.

Everyone in Dan's car, which is to say, Dan, Delores, Dave, Alan, and Angus, shudders. If everybody in Bob's pickup, which is to say, Bob, Len, and Evelyn, also had the radio on to that station, he, he, and she, or they, shudder, too.

Dan kept driving toward the entrance to the sewers, thinking "A stitch in time saves nine." "What's the meaning of 'the whole nine yards'?" "Who said 'Don't ever try to teach a pig to sing'?" "Why am I thinking these thoughts?"

Eddie Cochran starts singing "Summertime Blues" on the radio, and Delores said, "I be Em."

"You be who?" Dave asked.

"Aunt Em," Delores says. "I don't know why, but The Wizard of Oz just popped into my head."

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," Alan said. "It might be a clue."

"I love that game," Delores says.

"I keep thinking of riddles," Dave said. "I wonder why."

In Bob's pickup, Len looks out at the sky and saw a skywriting airplane blowing smoke: "PREPARE TO DIE DOROTHY."

"Needs a comma," he mutters.

Element 10: "Frankenstein"

Where the hell did I go wrong? I had them. I had them on the run! All of them! First, when they were snotty-nosed kids. Delicious, then. Flesh still young and tender. Got that one back there in the tunnel. Still remember the taste. Right hand a bit too fleshy, but at least it didn't have hair growing out of its palm. And then when the times get bad, the bad take their time. That one they call Truly. She was nice. Lasted a long time. And that skinny kid down in Big D. He's the little creep who blinded me last time. Guess I showed him. Sweet dreams, Creep-o. A couple back East. Phil and Ricardo, or something like that. Ricky Ricardo. "Lucy-y-y-y-y-y!!!" And then a lot more that nobody even knows about. Eliot. Walt. Amy. Martie. Peter. Someone called McGrumpo. Roland. Olorin. Masked. Sherrie. Someone else called Mr. Language Person. Tara. Glenn, or Knick, or something, maybe Not --. Ahrrrrrrgh. There are just too many of them to remember. Some I digested, some I didn't. Some are still to come. Some just keep coming back again and again, like that grapefruit guy. Just when you think you've discussed something to death, some new one shows up and raises the question, Point of Order, all over again. Ha! I ate them, he said hungrily. Show me. I'm from Missouri. Well, cross me, and you can prepare to meet the cross. No prisoners. Lawrence of Arabia. You scum-sucking pigs. One-Eyed Jacks. Badges? We don't need no steenking badges. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Care to join me for dinner? Come on, boys and girls. Give me your best shots.It's over. The fat lady is singing. Hmmm, forgot all about her. She could have been the best yet. Wait a minute! What was that noise? Better start the machinery again.

Factor 11: "Mars Needs Women"

"Christ!" Bob yells, when he stumbled over the bones. "It's Wickie!"

"Oh, my God!" Evelyn cries, putting her hand to her mouth and trying to fight back the tears. She kneeled down and touches the grinning skull tenderly. "God speed, Wickie. Rest in peace," she said softly. "May your dreams all come true one day."

"Yeah. Mine, too," a familiar voice floats out of the darkness.

"Johnny?" Dan said, recognizing it, the voice, not the ghost yet.

"You know me. Always liked a good climax." A shining flutters out of the darkness, and the ghost of John raised his bony arm, index finger outstretched, and points toward the right.

"Come on," Angus scowled. "Let's finish this mother off." He starts toward the direction of John's ghost's arm's finger's pointing, and the others followed.

There is the door, even smaller than before, although it was still the same size. Angus glances at it briefly and shoved it open quickly to prevent any time-consuming discussion, debate, or whatever about what the symbol symbolized, and The Winners Club(TM) crowds around the opening, eager to get through and perform their destinies. They had to crouch down and squeeze through, and in the darkness the experience brings back memories of birth, but they all would have denied remembering it.

"GREETINGS, YOU SONS OF BITCHES!" IT'S screamed at them.

"Ahem," Dave corrects. "There are ladies present."

"Okay, okay! You sons and daughters of bitches and bastards, then, but it loses something in the accuracy."

According to plan, The Winners Club spread out semicircling around it as best they can. IT'S is still in its spider shape, one eye still blinded, and IT'S had difficulty keeping its eye on all of them.

"What do you want?" IT'S sneers. "More of the same? Revenge? Praise? It's a dirty business, and an ugly world. You won't get any sympathy from me."

"We don't want your sympathy," Alan called out from IT'S's extreme right, the bad side, and IT'S turns suddenly to see him. "We want your balls," he says in his best John Wayne and drew his gun.

"Stupid git!" IT'S hisses nervously. "Miss Thistlebottom has no balls." A spider leg whipped out and knocks Alan's revolver from his outstretched hand, causing it to fly off into the darkness.

"Or brains, either, apparently!" Len took too long to say. "Eat this!"

Len throws the knife he had been hiding and surprises everyone -- IT'S the most -- by striking it spot on in IT'S' good eye.

"Good eye!" Dave yelled. "Would you like me to finish him -- her -- it off?"

"Would I!" Len cries. "Don't mind if you do."

Dave charged the apparition, pulling a samurai sword from beneath his jacket, where he has been having trouble keeping it hidden and walking at the same time. He reached IT'S on its blind side, raises the sword high with both hands, and plunged it up to its hilt in the soft creepy flesh of the monster. Life force oozes out of the wound. A horrible smell filled the subterranean chamber. An awful sound spreads through the dead air.

"Hooray!" Evelyn cheered at the sight. "Eek!" she screams as one blindly flying leg lashed out and rips her clothes off, strictly for one last naughty bit of gratuitous Monty Python nudity. The guys tried to be gentlemanly about it and look away, but they all sneak peeks.

"Here," Delores said, walking up to Evelyn, peeking herownself. "Take my jacket."

But the fat lady wasn't singing yet. Another spider leg whips out and ripped Delores's clothes off, too, but Delores doesn't mind as much, being as how she was a practicing nudist.

"Here, Dee," Dan says, walking toward her while taking off his parka. "You can have --."

"WATCH OUT!" Evelyn screamed as a third leg clubs Dan from behind, knocking the sense and the life out of him. He fell to the floor, his head crushed, and his last thought is "Bloody hell! Why couldn't you have gone for the clothes, you f*cking s*xist!"

Evelyn knelt over Dan's lifeless body, and he doesn't even have the good luck to stay alive long enough to gaze on her lovely breasts peeping out of Dee's jacket.

"Outta here!" Angus started to say, but as bad luck would have him, another leg catches him in the back, crushed his spine, and keeps him from seeing daylight again.

"Whewww. . . ." Bob breathed softly, looking around for a pointed stick or a hiding place, whichever comes first, and mentally counting legs and people left and right. Evelyn and Delores crouch down and kept as still as mice and possible. Len is nowhere to be seen. Ditto Dave.

"Riddle me this," Miss T's weak voice drifted through the air, knowing she is on her last legs and roundup. "Is it wrong to use a double negative?"

"Depends on the case," Alan guessed. "Or, maybe the number," he keeps guessing. "I don't know," he gave up, figuring it was useless to go for mood.

"WRONG!" IT'S manages to blast out, and another leg flew out of the darkness to smash his face into a bloody mess, and Alan dies a horrible death, too.

Bob stumbled backwards in the darkness, unfortunately drawing attention to himself. IT'S turns weakly toward him, tried to lick his lips, and then rips his head off his body.

"Top Ten Reasons to Use Correct English:" IT'S continued weakly, amusing only IT'Self now.

"Number 10: Its use gets you good grades in school.

"Number 9: It's the way to be understood by other people who use correct English.

"Number 8: Its hours of pleasure arguing with other people about what is correct English.

"Number 7: It's a possible out whenever someone finds an error in your logic.

"Number 6: Its way of giving you a superior feeling when other people don't use the same correct English that ewe dew.

"Number 5: It's something yew can use two develop a reputation four being someone who can research a nitpicky point of what is correct, which is correcter, and that that might be correctest.

"Number 4: Its use enables you too make good friends from awl over the world.

"Number 3: It's an opportunity to obtain free meals whenever U travel.

"Number 2: Its usage can't hurt.

"And the Number 1 Reason to Use Correct English: It's a helluva lot of fun for its own sake!"

"NOW!" D & L cried out together, and together they charge toward the feeble arachnid, closed their eyes, and plunge their jacket-covered arms as far as they will go into IT'S's squishy body. From both sides they felt inside IT'S's insides until Dave finds IT'S' still beating heart, and ripped it out of its body.

"Take that, you fool!" he says dashingly, looking around for recognition and approval. He threw the heart to the floor, stomps on it with both feet, and hoped for the good, better, and best.

"Come on," Len says to the few, the proud, the remaining. "Let's get the hell out of here. I never want to see another bloody spider again."

"Ditto," said Dave. "Give you girls a ride home?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Dee smiles, remembering the good times, but forgetting the others quicklier than she meant to.

"Eek!"

THE END

Table of Contents - Chapter 9 - Top of Page
Off The Wall - Callahan's Saloon