Posion Flowers by Mike Lee Chapter 2

As we drove away from that cold, heartless, formaldehyde-smelling prison, my former jailer, long white coat, metallic light on his forehead, and all rubber gloved, Doctor Dumb-Dumb and his well iced blood sucking nurse stood on the included concrete ramp at the back of the torture chamber, where my life had just almost taken a turn for the worse, and as my fellow suffers from the Parker High Junior class wheeled me down into his warm waiting car.   It was the first time I had been warm all night.

“Thank you SOOOOO much, you living doll!” I said kissing his left cheek and asking him for a light, as he handed me the build in lighter and I puffed long and deep, just thankful I hadn’t been cut up like a piece of hamburger for Dr. Feelbood’s backyard barbeque.   Yes, my prom dress was ruined, stained in fact with some really nasty smelling stuff, but at least the mad Doctor hadn’t operated and cut me up into small fleshy pieces.

“Oh, my God!  My hair is such as mess and as I looked at my eyes, they are sad, sad, sad, I said, puffing on the first decent cigarette I’d had in hours.  Slow death and tobacco never tasted so good.

“You know they’ve got to pay for this,” I said, clutching my purse and putting my cigarette in the ashtray.   He coughed up last night’s dinner and laughed.

“Who’s gotta pay?” he asked.

“Why those little witches, of course.  They’ve got to pay and pay and pay for doing this to me.”

“Oh, yea, which witches?” he asked, his face turned away, window coming open, his hands at 2:00 o’clock and 4:00 o’clock on that rectangular faded plastic steering wheel.

“You know you are killing me with those cancer sticks, don’t you babe?”

“Why whatever do you mean, you lovely little man?  You know you’re already dead, don’t you?  I mean, once they find out you helped to spoil their nasty little plan.  They will cut you up like so many jigsaw puzzles and put you in their caldron along with frog legs and toad hearts and you will make their potion hard to stop, but you will only be a faded memory.  That is unless you help me get even with them all.  Those dirty little hags.   Now, pull over here and let me finish my cig and I will tell you how we will teach those little harlots back at that nasty little coven a lesson they will not soon forget.  Just a little payback for my total paralysis, my date with Dr. Feelgood and his cutting sheers, but most of the spellcasters I once thought were my friends putting me through this nightmare.”

As he pulled the rusty old Buick into an empty park, she took a mirror out of her bag along with a petrified cat’s foot and a strong smelling black powder.   She opened the side door, leaned out and she spits on the ground.   She poured the dark smelly powder over the cat’s foot, and slowly red smoke began to rise from it, as she mumbled some strange incantation, that he could not quite hear, much less understand and her young driver began to realize that she was very serious and that those former friends, witches might just be in big trouble.


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