Memoirs of a Nutter: Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

Jack and Tracey are in the bed of Lucy trying to get the body removed while Louie and Sammy wait at the tailgate to grab the feet. Alex, Frankie, and Darren exit from the door where the morgue is set up. Darren briskly walks over to the side of the bed and asks, “Has rigor mortis set in?”

“Nah,” answers Jack. “Not yet.”

“What happens when rigor mortis sits in?” asks Louie, her right eyebrow raises.

“Bob will become stiff,” answers Darren and pushes his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

Jack stops helping, removes a glove, blows a kiss, and says, “Good NIGHT, everybody! … As Yakko, would’ve said.” Then, replaces the glove. The rest of the girls, excluding the “princess”, laugh at this and Darren raises an eyebrow.
“Does she do that a lot?” asks Darren.

“Only when she’s in a good mood,” Louie informs him.

Alex adds as Frankie and her flank him, “Or when she’s got rid of some baggage.”

“I see,” comments Darren and then, studies the shroud of tarps and bungee straps that were being moved.

“You do?!” asks Jack, as though this is a great big coincidence. “I do too!” Some chuckle at this one.

“Is she alright?” Darren asks Alex, who stands at his left, leaning against him.

“I dunno. Why don’t you ask her?” asks Alex. She punctuates this with an elbow in the ribs.

“Are you okay?” asks Darren and looks at her for the first time. This is the first time the two have met.
“Dude, we’re handling my stalker’s body,” says Jack. “We’re lucky this situation isn’t in reverse, man.” He glances over at him and adds, “Neither of us want to bury Alex.”

“What?” asks Sammy as she and Louie start to grab the feet and drag the body further out of the bed. “No limerick? No quote from a cartoon? No quote from a song?”

“Um… nope,” says Jack and jumps out to the side of the bed, opposite of Darren, Alex, and Frankie are.



“Why not?” asks Louie as a grin appears on her face. Tracey carries the top half to the tailgate, places it there, hops off, and her and Jack pick up their end.

As she picks up her side, Jack says, “Copyright infringement.”

“What?” asks Darren as he walks to the side of Tracey (on the left). “Where’s the head? NO head?”

Sammy faces Jack and says, “Don’t even.”

“What?” Jack asks her in a pseudo-innocent voice.

“I know what you’re thinking,” says Sammy.

Tracey grins, “Yeah, yeah. I seen you.”

Tracey and Jack look at eat other and laugh, “I SEEN YOU!”

Darren walks to the front of the morbid procession, to the door, and takes out his ID card. Jack adds, “Oh, by the way. If we weren’t carrying dead Bob, I’d blow a kiss and say, ‘Good NIGHT, everybody!’ So, the great Yakko, had said.”

The procession of moving the corpse is stopped as Darren fumbles with the key pad. Jack takes this time to shift the weight to her knee. Do the “Good NIGHT, everybody” gesture and then she looks down to the body and pats it. “Even you, Bobby!” She replaces her glove, back on, and then, the caravan is off again. Chuckles from all, except the Princess (once again), flood the fluorescent lit, mint green hallway. “Figures,” mutters Jack to Tracey. “Frankie can’t handle it.”

Tracey grins and says, “Oh, goodness me, no! Miss Perfect cant’ stand a little dark humor!”

“Doesn’t she know?”asks Jack. Tracey shrugs, not know what Jack is talking about. “Doesn’t she know NOT to take life seriously? It’s going to kill her one of these days!” Trace gets a kick out of that.

Darren leads the way to his morgue. “Six in the building, and I get the best one,” he brags to the girls.

They place the body in an empty slab. Frankie stays close to the door through which they entered the room. The others mingle around the large room. Jack and Sammy peer into jar with preserved body parts and little animals. Louie and Tracey find desk chairs and sit at another empty slab table and discuss who’s better looking Orlando Bloom or Tracey Adkins. Alex lays on yet ANOTHER empty slab and yells, “LOOK! I’m dead!” and plays “dead”.

“Jack?” asks Darren. “Could you come here please?”



“Can my other brain come with?” asks Jack.

“Sure?” says Darren, confused on whom she is referring to.

Sammy and Jack hustle over to the table. To those of whom are old enough or are dorky enough to imagine Jack (dressed in a pair of jeans, black hi-top Converses, black glovelets, her small black square framed glasses, a black ribbon as a choker, a long-sleeved, black and white striped tee covered with a dark purple tee that has the traditional “pirate flag” on the front, a lip ring to the right side of her bottom lip, a red horseshoe ring in her only cartilage piercing that is in her right ear, and her shaggy dark brown hair… oh, let’s not forget. SHE PALE) and Sammy (dressed in a jean skirt, calf-high dark brown boots, a sparrow necklace, a blue and silver charm bracelet that Jack gave her, a green ASCPA rubber bracelet, a grey tee for “Pirates of the Caribbean”, her long dark brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail, and her freckles, as usual) doing The Hustle… Thank you for not leaving me as the only one chuckling at the thought.

“Yo?” asks Jack as they flank him around the now de-cocooned dead body.

“She’s you other brain?” asks Darren. “NOT Frankie?”

“Frankie may be my twin,” says Jack. “But, Sammy and I agree on more things…”

“Plus, we share a brain,” adds Sammy.

“Well, I was wondering,” says Darren. “Did he actually stalk you?”

“Yeh,” says Jack.

“Okay,” says Darren. “I’ll try to figure out how we can save all of our butts then, go ahead and have a seat on a slab, I know you two have been wanting to do so.”

Jack and Sammy run over to the slab where Alex sits. “MOVE OVER,” chuckles Jack as Sammy and her squeeze in beside Alex, to her left. And the three start to chatter.

All is pretty quiet for a while then… Suddenly, Frankie speaks, that is… She sighs and says, “Must we wait here. I do have a life you know?” (Okay, let me rephrase that… she sighs and WHINES…)

Jack jumps off of the table and strolls up in front of her twin. “You know what?” she asks Frankie in an even tone. “If you’re so impatient to leave, then do what you want.”

“FINE!” yells Frankie and startles herself in the process, her voice seemed too loud for such an eerie place to her, it seemed. “Come along, Alex.” She stands up straighter, trying to portray as 

a superior being. In response to both her demands and her posture, she receives her keys in her face. She stumbles to pick up the key ring. She struggles to get up in her tiny stilettos and tight skirt business suit. Jack would call it a “don’t sneeze” outfit. Darren obviously restrains himself from offering help to her. “Atta boy,” thinks Jack.

Alex waves frantically from where she sits on the slab. “BYE-BYE!” she singsongs to Frankie. “See ya!”

Frankie scoffs, turns on one of the tiny heels, and… fall right on her fancy business skirted butt. “Oh no,” sarcastically thinks Jack. “The Princess has fallen. QUICK get the army!”

Darren once again moves again, but yet again restrains himself. And, instead say, “I trust you can find your way out.” His eyes matching the death glare Frankie tries on him.

“See you later, Frank,” says Louie. Her once very angelic voice now drips with venom. If Jack had any doubt on whose side Louie was on, this definitely helped her know.

Francesca Winchester walks through the door with one last look at what’s left of her blood family, her people, her disciples… so it seemed for a while. Even when she exited the room, there was still an air of Princess Francesca, a reign that had soon ended. “Thank goodness for formaldehyde,” thinks Jack.