Chapter 11: “And Then Some Stuff Happened”
Hell City is our weekly comic book type superhero detective noir thing
by our good friend in LA, Tim!
I had spent the last few months honing my sewing skills as part of the prison’s inner sewing circle. This made me the ideal candidate to sew Ed the Prison Guard’s skin into a costume that I could put on to use to escape the jail.
Human skin is a lot harder to sew than the French velvet we’ve been using in the inner sewing circle.
I managed to prevail though thanks to some clever craftsmanship and of course thanks to the handy double-stitch crackle that Bar from the inner sewing circle taught me. The end result was a somewhat crude yet passable skin suit.
I put on the suit. Inside it was warm and smelled like canned meat that had been smeared inside a 70’s comic book that’s been left in a longbox for forty years. Vintage chicken chunks inside an old Fantastic Four. I stared at myself in the mirror and practiced my prison guard speech.
“Go to your cell. Go to YOUR cell. Your cell, go there!” Nailed it.
Li’l Dipper explained to me what to do. I would go back to the guard station. Tell my supervisor that I needed to bring some of the inmates out to get supplies from town for their work duty in the yard. I would then get all the guys in the Knuckleheads gang and take them out of the prison but instead of going to get supplies we’d get sweet,
I walked to the guard station making sure to be as cool as if not cooler than a cucumber.
When I got to the station there was a man leaning back in his chair balancing a full cup of coffee on his crotch. He was swaying back and forth, amused as how much movement his body could produce without spilling any coffee.
“Eh boss?” I muttered.
I startled the man. He swiveled to my direction and the coffee spilled all over his pants. I could hear the sweet java hiss and sizzle as his smothered his penis protector.
“Oh darn.” The man said then looked up at me. “What’re you gonna do? Hey Ed, your skin looks really loose and flappy. You been working out?”
“Uh yeah. You know how exercise is. Hey I was wondering if I could get a release for some inmates to go into town so we can get supplies for yard duty?”
“Haha, you sure are funny Ed. There’s no such thing as that. Why if that was a thing us guards could do then don’t you think the prisoners would be killing us left and right and wearing our skin to escape? Nah, you can pick up the supplies yourself tomorrow morning but right now your shifts over so get out of her and go make love to your hot wife you stupid son of a bun!”
He brings up a good point. I guess I can just escape without the rest of the guys. Not sure why I went with this incredibly dumb plan anyway. I will miss Li’l Dipper’s stories of growing up in Montana though.
I strolled out of the prison and took a huge whiff of air. Never has it tasted so free. I pulled off the dead guard’s skin and tossed it in the wind. A tribute that I found to be fitting for the man that I was fitted into. His lifeless skin floated elegantly in the wind before being caught by a bald eagle. As he flew away I thought of this country and some of the things it stood for and I was proud to be an American. I also thought of how crazy this last few days have been. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, could it? No.
It all started on that day when that mysterious woman walked into my office. I think it was time I found her and found some answers.
I stuck my thumb out in a hitchhiking direction and made my way back into the heart of Hell City.