Galactic Canary:
Weird, huh? You can’t really even see the house until you are literally right in front of it.
Glamour:
It is beautiful though. So ornate. Oh, and look at the gargoyles up there.
Chaos:
Is that thing winking at me?
Glamour:
Okay, princess, you are supposed to wait to get to the party before you get high, you know.
Chaos:
I’m not high, you bitch. Just look at it, I swear to God.
Cherry Thrush:
Oh my God, she’s right. How did they do that? It’s a pretty neat trick, I guess. Strange, though.
Glamour:
Well we’re heading inside. You ladies have a great night.
Firebirds:
See ya later. Bye. Take care.
10:12 P.M.
The camera shoots upwards, as if attached to a 30-foot pole. It follows the ridges of The Mansion, past the winking gargoyles, past the sneering eyes of the house, up to the tower that Mr. Motel Chain had built especially for this night. He is up there now with DJ Fetish, formerly John Doe, discussing the party.
DJ Fetish:
I can’t believe you have girls DJing at this thing. Girls can’t spin.
Mr. Motel Chain:
Well, this is the new millennium, is it not? You don’t think it’s fair that out of fifty headliners, one of them is a female team?
DJ Fetish:
Good point. Anyway, it’s not like they’ll play again after tonight. Lame bitches. So anyway, everything is set. The music is programmed, and I go on at midnight. Let the party begin.
Mr. Motel Chain:
Just keep yourself out of trouble until then. You know what to do.
DJ Fetish:
Yeah.
Mr. Motel Chain:
The event ends at 6:00 a.m. That’s when you'll get your million, provided everything goes as planned.
DJ Fetish:
It will. I'll see you at six.
They shake hands, and part company.
10:15 P.M.
The camera does a vertical drop to the foyer of The Mansion. Jade and Sandalwood, the folk/funk DJ’s, are spinning crazy mixtures of music. At the moment they are playing a remix of Ani DiFranco’s song “Freakshow”. Just a moment ago, they were mixing James Brown’s “The Payback” to tripped out jungle beats. Jade is into 70’s funk, and Sandalwood spins folk music. They rework history through funky beats, combining disparate genres. They also happen to be telepathic, and usually argue as they spin.
Jade, silently:
I just got this great song called “Topless in Rio.” It’s an import, I think you’ll like it. It would go great with that one song of yours, you know?
Sandalwood, also silently:
I will not play a song about being topless in Rio. This scene is not about naked women. It’s about sharing and meeting people and dancing your heart out to pure music. Not loaded topless shit. What is that?
Jade:
Girl, what are you talking about? It’s a fucking song. It’s not a lifestyle.
Sandalwood:
But it is. The music we play is the soul of the party. If you corrupt it with sex and confuse the whole thing it will all fall apart.
Jade:
I don’t know what parties you’ve been going to, but in case you haven’t picked up on this just yet, this scene is finished. We are witnessing its last legs. Look at all this corporate shit. Mr. Motel Chain is bullshit. This place has already lost its soul. Sometimes I think I can feel it when it happens. So fuck off, I’m playing my cool new song.
Sandalwood:
Sorry, I didn’t think you’d get your bra all in a twist about it.
Jade:
At least I wear a bra, you floppy-titted hippie.
Sandalwood:
Hah!
They laugh out loud, hug, then continue to spin, but remain silent, both internally and externally. The room is filled with people bouncing up and down, some performing intricate hand and feet movements, some chasing energy balls around their bodies, people in sparkly clothes and fuzzy pants, glowing beads swinging and fists pumping to the music.
10:20 P.M.
The camera moves from Jade and Sandalwood back to the foyer of The Mansion and runs along the lines of paintings on the wall. Mr. Motel Chain did not collect these paintings, and if you were to ask him he would first assume that he’s had them for ages, but on second glance he would have to say he has never seen a single one of them before. They are intense shades of red and maroon. Palimpsests of sprawled people, the reds used almost like a screen over the pencil lines behind them. People can’t take their eyes from them.
Ichor enters the room. He is what wolverine from the X-Men would look like as a vampire. He grew a soul after dropping ecstasy for the first time, and he no longer kills his human prey. Instead, much like the infamous serial killer Peter Kurtin, with his heightened scent for blood, he sniffs out menstruating women and feeds off of their blood. He’s noticed how much healthier he has been since he started this uterine drinking. On entering the painting-laden foyer he almost passes out from the overwhelming (and delicious) smell of menstrual blood. Did every woman in this room just happen to be on her period today? He begins looking at the paintings and notices the smell gets stronger the closer he is. He also notices the smell is not fresh. He begins laughing and turns to the people next to him.
Ichor, laughing ironically:
Menstrual blood ― so many uses.
They look at him quizzically.
Ichor:
The paintings, they’re done with menstrual blood.
Random Raver Girl:
Ew, get me out of here.
They leave. Ichor is intrigued by these paintings and tells a few more people what they’ve been painted with. Most people get disgusted and leave, which Ichor finds even more amusing than the blood paintings. He sees a group of three girls, Dentata, Wake, and Uteri, the latter two getting ready to drop their ecstasy.
Ichor:
You ladies want to hear an interesting tidbit about these paintings?
Uteri, interested more in the guy than the paintings:
What?
Ichor:
They are done with menstrual blood.
Uteri:
No way.
She even goes closer and touches it.
Uteri:
Wait, how do you know? It doesn’t come off.
Ichor, smiling and shrugging:
I have a sense about these things.
Uteri, to Ichor:
Are you here with people or...?
Dentata, irritated:
Do you guys need water? I’ll just go get it for you.
Wake, to Uteri:
Is she okay?
Uteri:
She’s just sore about the E that’s all. Maybe she’ll decide to drop one.
Wake:
Doubtful.
Ichor, distracted by the paintings, and a delightful new odor issuing from Uteri, is only half paying attention to their exchange. Dentata returns.
Dentata, with water:
Here.
Uteri:
That was quick.
Dentata:
It was free so I just got everyone a bottle.
Dentata hands out the four bottles of (spiked) water. Not that they know it’s spiked, they’re just happy it’s not $5 a bottle or more, as usual.
Uteri, to Ichor:
So, are you dropping tonight?
Ichor:
Oh no I don’t do those kinds of drugs. You go ahead.
Uteri:
Ladies, cheers!
Uteri and Wake clink bottles and down their little pills. Dentata looks on ruefully and Ichor begins to get hungry.
10:30 P.M.
At the same time Uteri and Wake drop their ecstasy, Barren, Saline and Dioxin take their E in one of the trance areas outside, while dancing to DJ Rogue. From Jade and Sandalwood’s dance area Console drops a
n acid geltab, Trip begins to eat her magic mushrooms carefully listening to their instructions, and Skreem swallows a pill of E. Gaze is still looking for Slash, and she’s getting closer. Chamelia, Lily, NRG, Secrete, and the Firebirds are exploring the house in teams. Slash has already murdered a woman dressed like a sexy nurse in the bathroom; the camera cuts to him cleaning himself up. The Vikings are on the prowl.
Ichor stares at Uteri. She’s bleeding, he can smell it. It makes him hungry and oddly aroused. Her scent is particularly potent, spicy almost. Dentata and Wake decide to go dance outside: Wake loves DJ Rogue. She actually thinks he is much cuter than he is a good DJ, but whatever, who cares when you’re rolling? Ichor and Uteri decide to explore the house a bit. The four decide to meet back at the foyer at 11:00.
The camera pulls back and out one of the archways in the foyer. It careens over the revelers and stops once it arrives at the Firebirds, Galactic Canary, Cherry Thrush, and Cerulean Amazon. They are walking around the labyrinthine mansion.
Cherry Thrush:
This place has the craziest doors.
Galactic Canary:
But remember what the flier said though?
Cerulean Amazon:
Yeah about curiosity and the cat. Pretty cheesy for a warning you know. I don’t think it's serious.
Galactic Canary:
We should just be careful, ‘kay?
They walk past a door that looks like the entrance to a spaceship. Another door has a huge penis embedded in the heavy wood. Another looks like a cave opening, then there's one that looks sort of like a garage door and even has a little kitty door installed. There seems to be a titanium cage-like opening, and even a door that has talking door-knockers. Some of the doors have different colored smears on them, or are of distinct woods. One of the doors made Galactic Canary’s hand break out into pus-filled welts. She smoked some weed so the swelling went down, but it was pretty weird. Some kind of poisonwood? There are so many doors, but they haven’t tried to open a single one. Yet.
Cherry Thrush:
Ooh, what about that red wood one right there? You remember that movie, the Red Violin, how he used his wife’s blood to paint the violin? This totally looks like it could be blood... it’s got the right color. This is totally our door. Let’s go in.
Galactic Canary:
Who’s going to open it?
Cherry Thrush:
I will, it was my idea.
Cerulean Amazon:
Let’s all three of us do it. Share the responsibility of an open door.
They put their hands on the knob and pull. The door opens easily and reveals another portal, down by their feet. It is about three feet tall and two feet wide, and seems to be dripping.
Galactic Canary:
Holy shit! It’s a portal! It’s like in Being John Malkovich! I love him so much. Do you think this might be his portal?
Cherry Thrush:
No, they already made that movie.
Galactic Canary gets down on her hands and knees and starts to go in.
Galactic Canary:
Are you scaredy-cats coming?
Cherry Thrush:
Oh, right, who again was afraid to open the door?
Galactic Canary:
You can argue with yourself if you want, I’m going in.
Galactic Canary turns and the portal sucks her in. The other two quickly follow. The red door closes behind them.
10:45 P.M.
The camera floats from the portal over to Uteri, who is already beginning to roll on her ecstasy. She was so excited about coming to the rave that it slipped her mind to eat so the drug absorbed into her system straight away. She is still with Ichor, and they are wandering around the house.
Ichor:
I wonder if there is a library. Mansions like this have the most spectacular libraries.
Uteri:
How do you know?
Ichor:
Oh, you know, been around a while, seen lots of mansions.
Uteri:
I wish there was a map or something.
Ichor:
What fun would exploring be then?
They walk and Uteri takes his hand.
Uteri:
I don’t mean anything by this. I’m just beginning to roll and I wanted to hold someone’s hand and usually I would hold one of my friend’s hands but they aren’t here. Anyway. Shit. I’m fucked up, already.
Ichor’s smile is fatherly, protective of his bleeding lamb. They walk by a lollipop and glowstick stand and Uteri gets herself a sucker.
Uteri:
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. This is so good.
Ichor and Uteri turn around a corner and walk a bit further. Up to the right of the corridor there seems to be another path. When they get to it they discover a little waterway with stone books for stepping stones.
Ichor:
Yes, the library. See, I told you it would be something spectacular. Careful, don’t fall.
Uteri, giggling:
This is so beautiful. Wheeeee.
Uteri skips across the rocks and opens the library door. There is a speaker in there too, and the music is blasting. A few books have fallen off the shelves from the vibrations. There are huge plush chairs, a fireplace and books that span two levels.
Ichor:
Incredible! I wonder if there is anything to drink in here.
He begins opening cabinets until he finds a brandy cupboard with a fridge built into the bottom.
Ichor:
Oh look, fully stocked. How about some juice for you and a scotch for me.
Uteri, rolling around on the floor on the plush carpet:
Juice would be soooo good right now.
Ichor gets the drinks and sits by her on the floor. Uteri’s eyes are closed as she nods her head to the music. He leans over and kisses her, his fangs swelling from hunger. She responds well to it, good thing for the E, Ichor thinks. He climbs on top of her and kisses her harder. He begins to move downward.
Uteri:
No, don’t, I’m on my period.
Ichor:
I don’t want to have sex with you, I’m just going to go down on you. Do you want me to stop?
Uteri:
But I’m on my period.
Ichor:
I don’t mind, do you?
Uteri:
I’ve just never had anyone do this while... you know. You really don’t mind?
Ichor:
No, I like it. Anytime you want me to stop just say so.
He resumes.
10:50 P.M.
The Firebirds are pulled through the portal. At some point they are separated by merging tunnels and continue their slimy descent through the door. There is light up ahead, possibly the end of the tunnel... They pop out of Uteri one after the other as an astonished Ichor looks on.
Ichor:
What the fuck is this shit?
Uteri, dazed with pleasure and startled out of her reverie:
What?
Ichor:
Some shit just popped out of you. What the fuck are you?
Firebirds:
We aren’t shit, asshole.
They look at each other and their Thumbelina size.
Firebirds:
What the fuck?
Ichor:
This is some sick shit. You dirty bitch. What are you?!
Enraged, Ichor goes to attack Uteri, fangs bared. He lunges just as the Firebirds take hands and project fireballs onto him. His skin begins to sizzle. He screams in pain and turns as the Firebirds slowly regain normal size. They stand their ground, take hands and hurl another set of fireballs, this time at his face. He lurches at them. They separate, and he runs flaming across the room. Uteri concentrates on her hormones and in a few seconds, he is knocked out cold. They pat out the flames and leave him in there to wake up and find his own way out.
Uteri, stepping over him:
Fucking freak.
10:55 P.M.
The camera follows the three F
irebirds and Uteri back over the stone-book creek. The Firebirds “ooh” and “ahh” over the path. They all introduce themselves and thank each other for the help. As they are turning the corner out of the creek, Habanilla, the spicy-skinned car-jacker, puts her hands out for them to stop. She walks up to Galactic Canary and puts her palms on either side of her head.
Habanilla:
Give me your wallets or I’m going to blow her head off.
Cherry Thrush and Cerulean Amazon look at each other, take hands and fire a flame missile at Habanilla’s head. She drops to the ground. Uteri and The Firebirds take hands and walk out.
10:56 P.M.
The camera moves to Barren who had just gone to the bathroom, and now can’t find Saline and Dioxin back outside where she had left them. Her E is hitting her hard, and she is having a difficult time keeping up with the now-overwhelming pace of the party. As Barren walks through the foyer she sees the red leather couches, and decides to sit down for a while.
Barren, voice over:
Where the hell are they?
She closes her eyes and sinks further back into the plush couch.
Barren:
Ooh, this is so comfy.
Barren lies back and fishes in her pocket for the lollipop Saline had given her earlier. The music vibrates through the couch and her body. She has never felt so wonderful and so safe. It feels as if nothing in the world could harm her. She feels a thud on the couch next to her. Barren opens her eyes.
Viking # 1/Dirk:
Hi there. How are you feeling tonight? Are you rolling?
Barren:
Mmmhhhhhmmmm.
Viking #1/Dirk:
I have the perfect thing for you...do you like Vicks?
Barren:
Huh?
Viking #1/Dirk:
Here, just sit up for a second. You’ll love it.
He takes out a Vicks inhaler and begins blowing through it over Barren’s eyes and nose, and then through her mouth. She feels the mentholated air enter every pore of her body, clearing away all cares and problems.
Barren:
Oh that feels sooo good.
Viking #1/Dirk:
It’s the menthol. Do you smoke?
Barren:
Umhmmmm.
Viking #1/Dirk:
Here try a Newport, it’ll feel so good in your lungs.
American Monsters Page 8
