Written by Jesus Budda

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

image for PsychoTown - Part 8

Psycho Town Recap: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7


6.24am

O' Halloran waits at the east side of the old abandoned warehouse TM.
He has a quick wank to keep warm: nothing like a warm wank on a cold morning.

An ice cream van drives past. Is this the mystery caller? No. It continues on, obviously making an urgent early morning ice-cream delivery to the children's hospital.

O' Halloran picks his nose and wipes it in his coat, a habit he picked up in 'Nam. 1971. He remembers it so well.

He flashes back to the jungle setting. Stalking through the brush, watching out for any sign of a gook (a 'gook' being a rare form of sea otter indigenous to the Mekong delta).

A flash of light, followed by a smoke burst. The choppers fly down low across the tree tops. The yelling. The screaming. The gunshots and ricochets.

O' Halloran reminds himself to return that copy of Apocalypse Now to the video store tomorrow. Damn, he wishes he were a soldier.


A footstep behind him.

"Don't turn around", the distorted voice instructs.

"Who are you?", O' Halloran asks.

"A friend"

"A friend? You mean like somebody I would go drinking with or an acquaintance?"

"Hmmmm…", the voice ponders, "somewhere between the two".

"Uncle Bert?"

"No! I'm not your damn uncle Bert, you idiot. Now, listen to me very closely"

"I'm listening"

"Despite all the evidence pointing in that direction, the serial killer is not the seven foot woman."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. She is merely a minor player in this fiendish plot. The real killer is somebody else".

"Can I have a clue?"

"No!"

"Oh, go on. Please? Pretty please?"

"Oh, seeing as you said please, I'll give you a tiny itty-bitty hint: look closer to home".

"Closer to home? You mean its….mother?"

"No, you dumb fuck! I didn't mean literally."

"So you mean metaphorically?"

"Yeah. Kind of…"

The mysterious stranger starts to move away. O' Halloran calls out.

"Wait!"

"What is it?!!! I've get to go home and have my beauty sleep"

"Are you sure you're not my Uncle Bert?"

"Oh, fuck off!", the voice says as it moves away.

Suddenly a bright light and a roaring engine noise appear out of the sky. It's just like a scene in his favourite war movie, Apocalypse Now. Mental note: really must return it to the video store.

"FREEZE, MOTHERFUCKER!!!", exclaims a female voice from a megaphone.


It's the robo female cop accompanied by a police task force.
O' Halloran turns around and sees the seven-foot woman being bundled to the ground by armed emergency response units. She was his mysterious informer.

The robo female cop climbs down from the chopper.
"It's lucky I followed you", she says, still shouting through the megaphone", Now we've captured the killer".

"You sneaky bitch", O' Halloran shouts angrily.

"Fuck you, O' Halloran"

"Ok", he beams and starts undoing his zipper.

"No. Not that kind of 'fuck you'", she says as she slaps his hand.

"You're messing up my investigation. I got some good intel from that giant big-titted woman".

"Oh yeah? Well, she's under arrest now for being a serial killing skank. Maybe you should try some real detective work, Detective"

"I hope you're real proud of yourself. That seven foot woman couldn't have killed those people on her own. I wanted the ringleaders"

"Why not?"

O' Halloran walks over to the seven foot woman who is now in cuffs and being lead to an awaiting police car.

"I trusted you, Detective", she sulks

"Sorry, toots. It's out of my sticky hands now. But do yourself a favour: tell the truth"

"The truth? If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. You'd think I was crazy".

"Try me", O' Halloran says, leaning in close so that he can get a good look at her tits.

"Years ago I wrote to a TV show that promised to make your dreams come true.."

"Jim'll Fix it?"

"Yeah, that's the one - or a show with a similar title but slightly different so we won't get sued"

"Please continue", O' Halloran insists.

"I wanted to be a playboy model and flash my bits on camera. Doesn't every girl dream of that?"


O' Halloran shrugs. He knows that he sure has had that dream. Ever damn night.
The seven-foot lady continues her story.


"My letters were ignored but I was determined. So I turned up one day at the studio and sneaked inside. And what I saw was horrifying…"

"What was it? Don't leave me in suspense!!!"

"Aliens, Detective."

"Aliens?"

"The whole place was overrun with the little grey bastards, with their funny voices and lack of talent. But aside from that there were these horrible, grotesque creatures gorging on human bodies."

"Did you write a letter of complaint to the BBC?"

"Fuck yeah! But they ignored it. And pretty soon afterwards I started having these weird visitors at night.."

"Kinky prostitute, eh?"

"No. Not me you fuckwit! These odd-looking guys with no genitals would turn up on my doorstep trying to get me interested in The Watchtower. I know a Jehovah's Witness when I see one but these were different. These were aliens in human form".


O' Halloran scratches his chin as he tries to take all this stuff in.
"Are you saying that my penis is small?"

"Huh??? Where'd you get that idea? I've been talking about alien possession and murder".

"Really? I just thought it was a metaphor for you thinking I have a small penis", he pauses for effect before continuing, "..to go with the SMALL BRAIN YOU MUST THINK I HAVE! I aint stupid, lady. I have a master's degree in masturbation from the University of Bathroom. Alien creatures my ass" .

"You asked for the truth and you got it, Detective. You choose to ignore it and the entire city of PsychoTown could be in peril".


A uni comes up and lets the Detective know it's time to leave. He closes the door of the car and drives off. The seven-foot lady gazes out the window at the Detective but he just looks away.
Robo female cop walks over.
"Crazy as a mental patient on acid", she says shaking her head.

O' Halloran nods but he can't get the idea out of his head: "What if she was telling the truth?"

It's 6.40am. It's naptime. If the world is in trouble then some other poor sonofabitch will have to take care of it. O' Halloran's exhausted and heads home alone.

Continue to part 9

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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