Memoirs of a Nutter: Chapter Two

(Chapter 2)

“Good, well call them!” says Tracey. She sits down where Alex had been moments before. She slumps back and stares at the corpse, lying in the puddle of blood. The blood was no longer the familiar crimson red. Instead, it was almost black underneath the cheap fluorescent lights.

“Okay,” says Jack. “There might be a slight problem with that.” She bows her head and scratches the back of her head, a trait she picked up from their father. Both do this instead of admitting that they have messed up.

“You don’t know anyone?!” asks Frankie. Her eyes enlarge to the size of half dollars. Her mouth hangs open as though the muscles connecting to her jaw was suddenly disconnected.

“Not true! She know us!” states Alex. She grins her wicked grin and walks away from the corpse.

“Okay, so I LIED about knowing connections… so what?!” asks Jack. She sits in the stool she originally sat in, grabs the rag she was wiping down the bar with, and wipes the blood and bits of brain and skull off her boots.

“‘So what?!’ I have a dead corpse in my bar!” shouts Tracey. She rises and briskly walks around behind the bar.

Sammy raises her hand. “What?” asks Tracey as she pulls out a glass pop bottle.

Sammy furrows her brows and scowls at Tracey, then asks with a grin, “Do you know any other way a corpse can be, other than dead?”

Alex, Jack, and Louie chuckle at the comment. Frankie passes by Sam and tells her under her breath, “I don’t think it’s a good time to tick off Trace, Sam,” and takes her stool back in her possession. Sammy follows her lead. Louie takes her place once again by her twin’s side and Alex once again sits at the corner.

Tracey pours herself some pop and takes a sip. She sighs and points to the headless carcass, bottle still in hand, “The POINT is: I have a dead Bob in my bar… Not quite a great attraction, even for barflies. So, what are we going to do about it?” She takes another drink.

No one says a word. Both sets of Twins look at their twin and shrug. Then, Alex raises her hand for attention, “Burn it? You know, here?”

Tracey almost spits out her third sip, “HELLO?! WOODEN FLOOR?!”



Alex grins,” Yeah… Black market?”

Sammy shakes her head, “Nah. I think it’d be too hard to sell a psychology professor when his brains are all gone.”

“Sorry!” says Jack and motions Tracey that she wants a pop. “I was kind of trying to get the whole fiasco over with!”

Tracey hands her a cold glass bottle of root beer. Jack nods a thank you, twists the metal cap off, and takes a sip.

Louie furrows her brows, this time sincerely, unlike her twin, “What about a morgue?”

“And, let some creepy mortician get a hold of him?!” yells Frankie. She grins because she knows what is coming next.

“Who are you calling a creepy mortician?!” questions Alex. She stands up, even though she’s right beside Frankie.

Frankie doesn’t even rise with her. “Oh, please. You’re not even a mortician!” yells Frankie.

“I’m dating one!” argues Alex. She huffs up, as though she’s auditioning for the part of the wolf in “The Three Little Pigs”.

“By the way, how’s that going?” asks Louie, in one of her rare moods of orneriness.

“Yeh, are you gonna be the Addam’s Family?” asks Sammy with her usual grin.

Tracey and Jack both stare at the corpse, sipping their pops, thinking.

“He’s not THAT weird!” argues Alex.

“Come on!” says Louie. “He prefers dead people!”

“He should enjoy Bob’s company then!” laughs Sammy. Louie and Frankie nod in agreement. Alex simply says, “NO!” and flops back into her stool.

“WHY YES! Let’s take Bob to our future brother-in-law,” jokes Frankie. Alex gasps and glares.

Jack turns to Tracey. “Why not donate the body to science? Ya know, as a cadaver?” she asks Tracey. Tracey nods in thought.

The others hear this and temporarily close this session of picking on the baby. Alex grins widely and asks, “They do that?!”



The five others nod as if to say, “No, duh.”

“Yeh, Alex, it’s called ‘donating your body to science’!” Jack tells her as though she’s three and punctuates her sentence with raising her eyebrows, opening her eyes wider, and smiling brightly, as though she was saying that there’s a magical world filled with bunnies, cookies, and other wonderful things. She turns to them all in general and says, “It’s just so happen that it’s none of our bodies. It’s Bob’s.”

“How are we going to do that?” asks Alex.

“What’s with this ‘we’ stuff, pre-college kid?” asks Frankie.

“What?!” asks Alex. “Oh, nuh-uh, no way! Not me!”

“Dude, you’re the baby. You know how to act innocent!” starts Jack. “Besides, like you said, you are dating a mortician!”

Louie adds, “You know you can get him to help us.”

“But-I…” says Alex. “I don’t’ want to freak him out!”

“Tell him the truth,” suggest Louie.

“That my oldest sister murdered and my older sister maimed the oldest sister’s stalker?!” questions Alex. “Not in that order, of course. But, still that is not very sane!”

“Self-dense and defense of a sibling,” says Sammy. Her almost ever-present grin doesn’t currently reside on her face. “We can easily say self-defense. I can almost guarantee he had a weapon on him too.”

Alex thinks on this and agrees, “Someone hand me the phone.”