STILLETTO EYE & RAZORGUT by DWAYNE COLTRANE & THE HYPERDEATHPSYCHOROCK 3

Chapter 2 - STILLETTO EYE & RAZORGUT AND THE TOADLICKIN' VOODOO BLOOD GOD

StilletoEye and RazorGut were not lost; they just didn’t know where they were. This network of roads through barren swamp land was not on the map, although it should have been. The map doesn’t show anything in this area off the highway but the sun was blazing down on them and they were happy just cruisn’ along in their 55 Cadillac, Betsy, with Louis Jordan blasting on the speakers:

”What’s the use of getting sober, when you’re gonna get drunk again….”

Up ahead, there was a wooden shack with some people out front…they pulled in front of them to ask if there was a town anywhere nearby. There was a young-ish man in blue overalls with yellow plasticky skin and large warts all over his mouth. Behind him hunched a frail, bucktoothed old lady in what looked like an ancient and well worn wedding dress, she too had warts all around her cracked and feeble mouth and was holding a large toad.

“Yarr. Tharr’s ar barbek yew darn darr rod.”

StilletoEye and RazorGut cruised on ahead. They came to a town marked by a rotting handmade signpost, Welcome to Arcsdale.

Barely a town, there was a collection of huts lining the dirt road. Several folk were sitting on beat up sofas outside one and a large barbeque belching black smoke into the sky. They pulled up and were greeted by a large hairy man in a blood splattered apron.

He gave them keys to one of the shacks for them to stay the night, where they parked Betsy and walked back for some food. They ordered two cheeseburgers and two milkshakes and dug in, listening to the men talk about a recent spate of mutilations in the area.

“Aye, ca’le’s one thing, but lil’ Stacey, that jus’ ‘o’ibble, spread out over m’ o’le field.”

“Ogh, t’smell.”

“An’ Marie.”

“An’ Bubbha’s lil’ girl.”

“Curse’s what’s what.”

“We done been mark’d.”

“We got tha’ voodoo man gone hoodoo’d us all.”

After eating, StilletoEye and RazorGut went back to their shack, and there’s was a circle of white dust on the porch and a mutilated chicken nailed crudely to the door.

Turning right back around, they got into Betsy and drove off. When they passed the barbeque shack, all the men who had been there were staggering and spasming with gaping wounds: one sprayed from a gaping chest, one was carved in half and was crawling on the grass leaving a snail trail of innards, the chef‘s head was charring on the barbeque….the odd couple who had directed StilletoEye and RazorGut into the village were dancing in the gore, playfully tossing morsels of flesh and limbs into each others mouths. They turned and saw Betsy, their eyes burning a deep, distant fire. They roared and their teeth seemed to be the size of their whole head.

StilletoEye and RazorGut floored the accelerator and left them eating dust.