Home Poetry Farce Archives About
 
 
 
  Home
  Cafe Del Soul
  FarceHaven
  MySpace Group
  The Archives
  Submissions
  About
  Contact Us
 
June 2011 Volume 13 , Issue 6 submit to us!
submissions.cynicmag.com
www.cynicmag.com


Red+Stripe
by George B Miller Jr -- Contributing Author [Email This Story]

"Yo Donnie, where's my makeup kit? I need to get ready for work."

"Right where you left it last time."

Krystal rummaged around the closet for a minute or so, before finding it tucked away on the top shelf between the box of powdered eggnog and the box of dried calamari.

"Got it, thanks."

"Need any help in getting ready?"

"Nah, I'm good to go this time. What time do I have to be at work?"

Donnie looked at his cell phone and said, "Three o'clock."

"Damn."

"What? You got about three hours before you need to be there."

"Three hours ain't gonna cut it. I need at least four. Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"Because the smile on your face melted my resolve to get you up in order to make you punctual."

Krystal thought about that smile, and smiled again.

"Yeah. So if you don't need me anymore, I'll let you get ready for work. I'll be back around two thirty to drive you in. Okay?"

"Okay. See ya around two thirty."

Sighing, Krystal walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, got undressed and hopped in. While she was lathering up and rinsing off, she started going over her checklist for work. By the time she'd finished her shower, she was halfway through the list. Wrapping herself up, she did the rest of her toiletries, and at the same time, finished her checklist.

Walking into the bedroom, she finished squeezing out the water to her waist length hair. Wrapping that up in a turban, she then put on some clean undergarments, before grabbing a brush and the blow dryer, and sitting down on the bed. Undoing the towel, she then spent the next fifteen minutes brushing and blow drying her hair, then the next twenty after that doing her hair into one long simple braid.

When she'd finished, she threw on a black tee-shirt, grabbed her make up kit and sat down in front of the mirror. Taking out a container of white makeup, she applied a liberal amount to her face, creating a ghoulish white base. She then spent the next twenty-five minutes adding various shades of eyeliner, lipstick and other assorted markings about her face. As a finishing touch, she took out a container of dark cherry red makeup and drew about a half dozen red teardrops running down her left eye.

When she had her face completed to her satisfaction, she then turned her attention to getting dressed. Going from the walk-in closet to a dresser to an old vaudeville traveling trunk, it took her about fifteen minutes to pick out the appropriate clothes she needed to wear. Peeling off her tee-shirt, she checked the condition of her boobs before adding a couple of drops of perfume to her cleavage. Rubbing them together for good luck, in no time at all they were primed, pumped and ready to take out anyone who crossed her path.

She put the black tee-shirt back on, then grabbed a funky pair of knee high horizontal black and white striped socks and a pair of black cutoffs that stopped at mid-thigh. Putting those on, she then grabbed a medium sized chain and a small bicycle lock and wrapped it through the belt loops. Next up was a studded dog collar, which was followed by a pair of silver cross earrings, a Star of David pendant, a black opal nose stud and nail polish: jet black with a small cherry red dot in the center of each nail. The second to the last piece of the ensemble, which she was just starting to lace up when Donnie started honking his horn, were a pair of retro black Converse b-ball sneakers.

Krystal poked her head out of the bedroom window, and said, "Hold on a minute! I'm almost done!"

Donnie looked at his cell and yelled back, "You got about twenty-five minutes before you have to be at work!"

"I know! I have to find my mirrors, then I'll be ready for action! Give me another minute or so!"

"Alright!"

By the time Krystal walked out the door Donnie was already out of the car. Meeting her halfway, he scooped her up and carried her back to the car, where he then stuffed her and the make up kit through the window. Running around to the driver's side, he hopped in and dropped the car into reverse. As he was backing out of the driveway he turned to say something and was met with a right cross to the nose.

Losing control of the car, he accelerated down the driveway and into a speed limit sign. Grabbing his nose, he yelled, "What the fuck was that for?"

"That was for doing what you did to me a few seconds ago. I told you I was going to be right there once I got done getting dressed."

"But we have to make time."

"So what. It's not like they're gonna start without me. I'm the star attraction to this shindig, remember?"

"Well..yeah." Donnie took a look in the rear view mirror at his busted nose. "Christ, I think you broke it. There's blood pouring down my face."

"Let me see."

Krystal grabbed his chin and looked at his nose for a couple of seconds. Snorting, she said, "Please, you're over exaggerating. It's just a small trickle running down your face. Here, take this tissue and switch seats. I'll drive."

"You . . . drive? My car?"

Donnie suddenly got nervous about Krystal driving. Krystal wasn't one of those so-called responsible drivers, since she always managed to accumulate more than her fair share of driving infractions, and right now her d.l. was currently sitting out a ninety day suspension for points over the cap.

"Yes, I'm gonna drive. Don't you worry none, I got a learner's permit."

"A learner's permit? You?"

"Yes, me. Furthermore, it says I have to drive with a responsible adult, and you're the closest thing I got to a responsible adult. Now shut up and let me get going."

Before Donnie could protest further, Krystal had dropped the gearshift and was accelerating down the road.

"Careful with the car! I just bought it a few days ago!"

"You bought this classic Mustang convertible a few days ago and you haven't put it through its paces yet? What kind of man are you anyways?

"One that values his driver's license."

Krystal didn't answer and except for a brief moment when she said yes to him asking if she needed her braid undone, remained silent for the rest of the drive. When she roared into the parking lot, with her waist length jet black hair trailing behind and her ghoulish makeup, she looked liked she stepped straight out of some kind of horror pulpy fiction novel.

Fishtailing into a parking space, Krystal killed the engine and was about to step out when Donnie grabbed her arm. Pulling her arm away, she turned and gave him a dirty look. He placed his hand on her neck and began massaging. A minute or so into it, he thought he saw a brief look of contentment pass over her face, before it resumed its current mask of irritability.

Concerned, he leaned over and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Relaxing a bit, she stroked his thigh and said, "I know you are. That's what I love most about you." Touching his cheek, she added, "We made good time today, so I got a couple of spare minutes to play with."

"You'll ruin your makeup."

"I'll take that chance."

She gave him a heartfelt kiss, which he returned the same way. Getting out, she walked over to his side and waited for him to finish lowering the seat. Climbing in, she stretched out on top of him, and they promptly spent the next couple of minutes making out like a couple of love struck teenagers. When she finally disengaged, she rested her head on his muscular chest and closed her eyes. Not wanting to interrupt the moment, Donnie carefully took out the compact from Krystal's back pocket and gently pinched her thigh.

"What?" she said rather soberly, as she didn't really want this quiet moment to end just yet.

Donnie opened the compact and said, "Your makeup needs to be readjusted."

Krystal turned head and saw that Donnie was indeed correct about her makeup. Sighing hard, she peeled herself off and sat up. Sitting cross-legged on his lap, she had him hold the compact while she took out her make up kit and touched up her face. Giving the mirror an air kiss, she put her make up kit on the on the windshield and climbed out of the car.

Limbering up for a few seconds, she shook her hair out and asked, "Hey sweets, can you grab that small bottle of glitter and spray a little bit into my hair?"

Donnie sat up and asked, "Where?"

"Under the front seat."

"How?"

"Don't ask. Can you do it for me or not?"

"Sure."

Donnie grabbed the bottle and got out of the car. Shaking it briefly, he then gave her hair a half dozen spritzs, fluffed it, then gave it another half dozen. When he'd finished, he asked, "How's that?"

"How would I know? I'm not exactly surrounded by mirrors ya know. Do I look okay?"

"Twirl."

Krystal twirled, and Donnie confirmed his original assessment.

"Great." She stepped forward and gave him a small peck on the nose. "I'll see you later in the evening. Don't worry about picking me up, I'll grab a taxi. Have fun and try not to worry."

As she walked towards the entrance, Donnie yelled, "Can't help it, I love you too much."

Krystal gave him a hair flip and ran to catch up with her sister-in-law Minnie. Donnie waited until she entered the building, before hopping into the car to drive away. As he was leaving the parking lot, his cell phone rang. Taking it out, he saw a text from Krystal. It said, "You know, I really do love you. Please worry about me, as it helps keep me grounded for the night. TTYL."

Donnie smiled and accelerated out of the parking lot.

Krystal handed her cell to Minnie before putting on her mirrors and a surgical mask. Fluffing her hair one last time, she said to Minnie, "Okay babe, I'm as ready as I'm ever gonna be. It's show time!"

Minnie smiled and grabbed the mike from one of the enforcers. On her way to the stage, she started playing to the audience, high fiving and egging them on. By the time she stepped onto the stage, the crowd was white hot and ready to explode in a testosterone/estrogen fueled rage. Doing one last ceiling pump, Minnie roared into the microphone like a tiger in heat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, adults of ages! Hellion's is proud to present to you, the act that has come back from a very successful penitentiary tour of the east coast, the one, the only, Krystal Methadone!!!!

Krystal hits the stage like a woman possessed and starts off the show by sledgehammering the audience with an intricate speed metal version of "I'm Down". When last note fades, the band shifted gears into overdrive and ripped through two dozen sub-three minute punk/speed metal instrumentals, with Krystal growling, moaning, twitching and writhing all over the stage.

By the time the last note fades, Krystal has the audience totally twisted around her little finger. She takes a seat on the edge of the stage and waits for the band to wind down. Once they do, she sends them off on a much needed fifteen minute break. Before they leave, the lead guitarist throws an acoustic guitar to her, so that she can do the second set.

***

Donnie first met Krystal about a year and a half ago when they were each taking the same music theory class at the local community college. At the time, she was a classical guitar player and he was a local folk singer. They got to talking during the class, and one night he invited her to perform with him at an open mike night sponsored by the local coffeehouse.

She accepted and their performance was such a rousing success that they were invited back for a semi-regular gig. Eventually those performances and their partnership led to a more intimate relationship and six months later, they were sharing a house, and four months after that, they were married.

One night, Donnie met up with some friends at a local club called Hellion's. They were going on about a hot new punk/speed metal band. It featured a rather lithe girl who was dressed from head to toe in black and wearing KISS style makeup with her hair glittered out, and their stage show was something straight out of an Alice Cooper/Insane Clown Posse concert.

When they hit the stage and began playing, the music simply blew Donnie away. The combination of the punk and speed metal worked him over with a jackhammer efficiency that left him gasping for air. By the time the first set ended, he was ready to call it quits. But then he saw the lead singer sit on the edge of the stage, which gave him the opportunity to one, get a better look and two, find out a little bit about her.

Once he got closer though, he saw much to his surprise, that it was his lovely wife Krystal who was performing for the S.R.O. crowd. Intrigued about this unknown facet of his wife, Donnie hung around for the rest of the show plus the encore. Afterwards, he left with the rest of his friends and headed for home.

Some two hours later, his wife walked in looking like something the cat dragged in. Donnie asked her how was work, she answered that it was a very long night. He responded by saying that he kind of figured that, because he happened to catch her show at the club. Shocked that he found out about her secret life, Crystal dropped to the couch and began crying her eyes out.

Donnie waited a few seconds, before taking a seat next to her. Gently cradling her in his arms, they spent the rest of the night talking about her second career, their marriage and how to run and meld both parts for the future. When morning arrived, Donnie became the manager and personal assistant for the punk/speed metal band Krystal Methadone.

Because of the type of music that Krystal Methadone played and the type of clubs they were playing at, Donnie had legitimate reasons for becoming Mylanta's best customer. After several months of non-stop touring, they had finally hit that level of pain that all punk/metal bands strive for: rioting. They'd become so popular that their concerts were attracting the darker side of their chosen genre: the disaffected and the disenfranchised. Those unnatural elements, combined with the home grown that were already involved, created a powder keg of epic proportions.

Violence became the rule instead of the exception, as moshing and slamming became semi-permanent fixtures at their concerts. Fighting was soon added to the unholy duo of drinking and drugging, and soon after one concert in which scores of people were injured (along with one fatality), private security became part and parcel to all performances.

In addition to private security being added, other changes were made. The mini-mosh pits were closed, and new concert times were created. No longer were concerts starting at ten and lasting until the wee hours of the morning; instead, they were now starting no later than three and finishing in the early evening. Finally, a much needed music swerve in the form of Krystal's first love, the classical guitar, was installed.

Most of these adjustments worked to perfection. They were first introduced during the band's east cost penitentiary tour and while there were some tense moments during a few of the concerts, overall that tour was a rousing success. Even though Donnie was able to cut down on his Mylanta intake, the true test was going to be whether or not those adjustments were going to work tonight.

Most of the changes were already being done at the various clubs, but the one that was starting to cause the severest amount of personal stress, was the music swerve. It was one ting to change between punk and speed metal, but to change from something that was filled with smoldering rage to something that was filled with passion, could backfire in ways that would make the evening news.

Donnie was trying not to be the worrier that Krystal gently mocked him for, but was failing miserably. No matter what he did to keep himself occupied, black thoughts of violent retribution kept creeping back in and kept him reaching for the Mylanta.

Stepping outside for some fresh air, he heard his cell phone go off. Thinking the worse, he took one last swig of Mylanta, before reluctantly answering the phone. Flipping the cover, he saw the phrase, Incoming Text from Minnie. Pushing a couple of buttons, he brought the message up, which read, "2nd set engaged."

He responded, "keep in touch."

Sighing, he put the phone away, took a seat on the porch, and soon became lost within the confines of his mind.

***

"Wooooo!!! How ya'll doing tonight? I want ta thank you for being here, at Hellion's!!!! Tonight we're gonna be doing something just a little bit different." "The band went off for a short break to refresh and recharge their batteries and for the next twenty minutes, I'm gonna be giving you a taste," "of something passionate, something sensual, and something just a liiiiiittle bit naughty."

Krystal jiggled her chest again, and a low roar fills the air. She then bends all the way back until she's horizontal, all the while shaking them for maximum effective. Stretching out, she quickly rips off her tee-shirt, and jumps up to show off her attributes that are barely held in by her diamond studded lace bra.

Flipping her hair, she moves towards a nearby microphone stand and stool. Sitting down, she says only one word, "Delgadina."

The audience becomes spellbound as Krystal plays an intricate story song about an incestuous relationship in Medieval Spain. The ones closest to the stage watch in jaw dropping amazement as the fingers on her right hand move gracefully up and down the frets, while the fingers on her left fly like the wind as they pluck strings to create a vivid picture of nineteenth century Spain.

Just as abruptly as the song started, so it ends in the same fashion. Krystal briefly stretches out and shakes her head for a moment. She looks up, gives an evil smile, then drops a cup of ice cubes into her cleavage. Shuddering, she says, "Recuedros de la Alhambra." then whips right into the sensual gypsy dance song.

Right away, a low murmur of displeasure erupts from the audience, as they become restless from listening to yet another acoustic rambling of the hottest punk babe on the planet. Krystal looks up from her playing and catches the bad vibes from the audience head on. Worried, she nevertheless continues playing, but flips her hair a couple of times and briefly looks offstage.

Thirty seconds later, the lead guitarist strolls onstage and heads towards Krystal. He starts tapping his heel so as to pick up her playing rhythm, then in smooth motion, replaces her hand on the frets with his. Krystal maintains the same pace, but starts to get down off the stool. The guitarist reaches around and on a silent three count, takes the place of Krystal on the guitar.

Dripping with sweat, Krystal pauses for a minute to catch her breath and to pick up the rhythm of the song again. Carefully moving her hair from face, she then moves the microphone away from the stool. Again giving an evil smile, she wraps herself around the microphone like she's making love to it and starts to accompany the guitarist in Spanish.

Between the lyrical complexity of the song and the sensual body movements, the previous murmurs of displeasure were soon replaced by a testosterone/estrogen fueled sexual awakening among the audience. Once again, Krystal had the upper hand and worked it to maximum perfection.

As she got deeper into the song, the passion that was behind the lyrics poured out of her like a non-stop climax. She hugged the microphone like a lover and caressed the stand like it was the hottest thing on stage. Untwisting the holder, she followed the slow drop like she was impaling herself on her lover's rod. By the time she got to the ground, she was straddling the microphone like it was the only thing left on the planet that could satisfy her personal ache.

As the final bars where being played, Krystal slowly leaned back until her forehead was touching the stage. As the last note was being played, she slowly flattened out, brought her hair forward and covered herself with it like a blanket.

The stage soon after went dark. Noise could be heard from both the audience, who were now voicing their approval of her performance, and from the rest of the band who had finished their break and were heading back to the stage. While the band was getting itself situated, Krystal had taken off her bra and stuck four pieces of tape on her nipples.

On a silent count of three, the stage exploded in a mini pyrotechnic display as the band opened up the second half of the concert with their cover of Motorhead's "Ace of Spades". Krystal jumps up and with hair flying all over, immediately added her unique vocals to the mix. Ratcheting up the tempo, in no time at all, the testosterone completely destroyed everything else as moshing made its violent return to Hellion's.

Minnie was taking all of this in with a mixture of shock and awe. Once again, Krystal Methadone had the crowd twisted so tightly around their collective fingers that there was no telling what would happen if the rubber band popped; and shock with what Krystal had done in order to work the crowd into such a feverish pitch. Her main concern now was making sure that the concert didn't get halted due to what Krystal wasn't wearing. At this point, Minnie saw that Krystal was basically dressed like the legendary Wendy O. Williams, in that she was wearing electrical tape across her nipples, her panties, and her socks and sneakers. And the panties were starting to drop as Krystal's movements got more violent and exaggerated. Still, her makeup was pretty much intact as she made doubly sure not to wipe the sweat from her brow.

Minnie stepped outside for a few minutes so that she could get some much needed fresh air, and to also let Donnie know what her opinion was on the second set. Dialing him up, she waited for the phone to connect. While she was waiting, she called the bouncer over and said, "Keep an eye on the stage, because if anything freaky starts to happen, the show will be shut down. Understand?"

Minnie didn't wait for a response as Donnie suddenly came on the line.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Sensational. Although--"

"No."

"But you don't even know what I was going to say."

"Yeah, I do," he said in a tone that he'd hoped would cut off further discussion.

When the band decided to tweak their stage show, one of the things discussed was what Krystal just did. Donnie was against it for a couple of reasons: one, the potential for Krystal to get carried away with the sexual explicitness of her performance and thus getting arrested; and two, the potential for rioting. The band argued for it because of the potential for rioting if the crowds were forced to listen to straight classical guitar. Donnie eventually agreed to a test run in the smaller venues, and so far all of the concerts went off without a hitch. Tonight's at Hellion's was the starting point for the larger venues. Depending on what happened there would determine how the rest of the shows would be planned.

Minnie understood where Donnie was coming from, simply because she knew her brother better than he knew himself sometimes. "I suppose you do at that, which would explain why you aren't here, right?"

"Right." Donnie paused for a moment as he tried to remember what it was he wanted to ask.

Minnie sensed there was something else that Donnie wanted to ask. "Was there something else you wanted to ask, because I need to get back inside."

"Yeah. How's she looking?"

"Hot."

"Figuratively?"

"As always."

Before Donnie could respond, he heard a loud roar in the background, just before Minnie's phone went dead. Fearing the worst, he stuffed his phone into his jeans and jumped in the car. Accelerating out of the driveway, he quickly shifted gears and burned rubber to the club.

The roar that Donnie heard was the beginning of a full scale riot at the club. One of the bouncers came staggering out with blood pouring down his face, and collapsed in Minnie's arms. Just before he passed out, he was able to tell her that someone made a grab for Krystal, and that Krystal responded by kicking the guy in the face. All hell broke loose as the guys friends jumped in and the band jumped in as well. Minnie left the bouncer with a passerby, who she told to dial 911 and headed back inside.

Inside was chaos and pandemonium as everyone had chosen sides and was beating the shit out of each other with whatever they were able to get their hands on. Minnie grabbed a broken pool cue and started slashing and hacking her way to the stage. When she got there, she saw that Krystal was lying in someone's lap with a knife sticking out of her stomach. Climbing up, she ran over and watched in horror as the drummer closed her eyes and brought her hair forward.

Minnie screamed and dropped to her knees. Picking up Krystal, she jerkily ran her hands over her lifeless body. Brushing her hair aside, she brought her closer and began crying hysterically. It took four people to carefully pull her away from Krystal. Babbling incoherently, Minnie was gently scooped up by the drummer and carried outside.

Donnie had blown into the parking lot and as soon as he got close enough to the building he jumped out and ran to the entrance. He got there just as a bloodied and battered Minnie was being carried out. He gave the drummer a questioning look, who returned it with a tearful throw of his head towards the gurney that was being wheeled out. Before anyone could stop him, he ran over and pulled off the bloodstained sheet.

There laying before him, looking remarkably serene, was Krystal. He stared at her face for a full minute, before saying, "Wait a minute."

He grabbed a washcloth from a nearby paramedic and spent the next couple of minutes taking off her makeup. When he'd finished, he caressed her cheek for a few seconds then gave her a brief but passionate kiss, before turning away in tears.

After the ambulance left, Donnie walked over to the drummer and took possession of Minnie. With tears running down his face, he took a seat on the curb and cradling Minnie in his lap, Donnie spent the rest of the night crying his eyes out and thinking about the star that went supernova much too soon.

 
 
Share This Story
Add to Mixx! submit to reddit
Facebook Delicious Delicious
MySpace
[Email This Story]  
 

Features -- June 2011 -- Beginning Month Issue