Horror Show (14 page)

Devila screamed again.

The scales around the thing's mouth parted, and an evil grin seemed to grow. Its malicious eyes flashed at her, raping her. She stood transfixed as the two inhuman slits seemed to look right through her, into her soul, devouring it. She shuddered and shrank back.

The scaly nonlips opened and a black, whiplike tongue darted out. Devila screamed again. The tongue shot out so quickly, so unexpectedly, that the burst of adrenaline she felt nearly shocked her into unconsciousness.

It touched her face, the moist, black tentacles of the forked tip caressing her pale skin. As lovers do.

She needed to scream but didn't want to Open her mouth, lest the probing, quivering feeler find its way inside her. Instead she made a piteous, high-pitched moaning sound.

The black tongue darted in and out of the serpent's mouth sharply, as fast as lightning, emerging a split second later wet with stinking saliva.

It played with Devila, toying with her inability to scream and run. The tongue ran over her, leaving a snail's trail of iridescent slime wherever it touched.

A few moments later she was lathered from head to toe, her hair slick with the foul-smelling spit. She kept her mouth clamped shut tightly. The tears and reptile saliva burned her eyes. Fear exploded in her heart.

At last the demon tongue withdrew and the Snake God pivoted its head to survey the room. Devila stayed absolutely still, afraid to move yet shivering with revulsion.

Albert, or what used to be Albert, dropped to his knees and began to crawl to the wall of candles. It stopped and extended a finger.

The flame licked the tip, burning the flesh.

The Snake God withdrew the finger, now black and smoking, and looked at it quizzically.

Its eyes fell back on Devila, then something popped.

She found herself looking at Albert Beaumond again.

It happened in the blink of an eye. The Snake Demon disappeared. The flames on the tips of the candles fluttered, as if the air had been disturbed, but Devila felt no breeze.

Albert's eyes were glazed. He shuddered and felt his face with the palms of his hands. He looked at Devila, confusion in his features, and began to cry.

9

“Jesus Christ, what a hangover!”

Landis looked at Buzzy with thinly veiled disgust. They sat drinking coffee on the deck overlooking Beachwood Canyon. From behind a pair of dark glasses, Buzzy groaned again. “The sun is killing me!”

Landis snapped open the newspaper and ignored his friend's suffering. “You're a fuckin' vampire,” he said.

“Ohhh, I think I must have pushed the old panic button a little too hard last night. My eyes hurt.”

“You deserve to suffer. You know, it serves you right. You were an asshole last night. Hoyt Lovejoy punched you out, don't you remember?”

Buzzy's hand came up to his face, felt the swelling under his eye and around his nose, then returned to the coffee mug. The sunglasses could not hide the damage. “Is that how I got this?”

“I'm afraid so.”

Buzzy smiled, as if suddenly remembering something funny. “That guillotine trick was a knockout, huh?”

Landis nodded, his eyes scanning the paper. He said nothing. He was searching the
LA Times
for any mention of his Halloween party. So far, to his dismay, he'd found none. Ignoring Buzzy was easy to do. He could hear the man's labored breathing behind the wall of newsprint. Landis's mood continued to sour.

“It hurts to smile,” Buzzy said softly.

“Don't strain yourself,” Landis replied, his tone dark.

“Why are you so pissed off?”

Landis put down his paper and leveled a gaze at Buzzy. “You really want to know? Okay, I'll tell you. I'm pissed off at you because—”

He stopped, wondered if he was wasting his time, then continued, slower, determined to make a point while Buzzy was still in pain. “—because of what you did to Roberta Bachman.”

“Roberta Bachman?”

“Yeah, your date, don't you remember?”

Buzzy pushed the sunglasses farther up his swollen nose, took a sip of black coffee, and grimaced.

“She left screaming.”

“Exactly. So, what's your point?”

Landis shook his head. “The point is, I don't want you alienating people like that. That girl is a sweet young thing. You didn't have to scare the shit out of her so bad. Now she's going to go all around Hollywood and tell everybody what a bunch of assholes we are. Negative publicity we don't need, even if it's word of mouth.”

Buzzy squinted, mouth agape. “So?”

Landis continued, “Yeah, that's what she's probably doing today. Listen to me, I love to scare people. That's my job, and I love shaking them up like we did last night, but I don't want people like her to run away crying. It creates ill will, and the only reason we're throwing these parties is to drum up some industry talk. We're in the horror movie business, remember?”

Buzzy tilted his head, made a face, then leaned forward. His eyes locked with Landis's. “Hey, wait a minute. Have you got the hots for Roberta Bachman?”

Landis stood up, “You're fucked up, you know that? I can't tell you anything!”

“Do you have the hots for Roberta Bachman?” Buzzy repeated, slowly. “You never cared what people said before. In fact, you never gave a fuck about anybody. Now you're tryin' to tell me that you care what this little chick at RKM thinks? Don't try to shit me, man. I know you.”

Landis looked oft into the city. Palm trees waved down on Franklin Avenue. Cars crawled along the major traffic routes. A few forlorn birds pirouetted in the sky.

“You do, don't you?” Buzzy said.

Landis didn't answer.

“Look,” Buzzy said, “I don't care if you take her out. After last night she'll never talk to me again anyway, so you're welcome to her. It's just that you and me are brothers, man, and I want to know. I want the truth, that's all.”

Landis moved to the railing and lit a cigarette. He looked back at Buzzy's beaten face and smiled wickedly. Youth was still a part of him, and even though his hair had started to thin, he still had the heart of a little boy. There sparkled a mischievous energy in his smile.

“I think she's kind of cute,” he said.

“I knew it! So, the truth is out! You could have any girl in Hollywood, but you want this mousy little publicity girl from RKM. That makes zero sense, man.”

Landis's smile faded. “Well, you took her out.”

“Yeah, but you tried to talk me out of it,” Buzzy said defensively. “You said I'd never get in her pants.”

“I was right.”

“Hey, I personally don't care if you take her out or not, okay? I just want you to level with me. Do you or do you not have the hots for Roberta Bachman? No trick answers, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

The sliding door slid open and Neil Bugmier stepped onto the deck carrying a thick sheaf of papers. He wore a halter top and shorts, a pair of tan pumps, and a pair of cat's-eye sunglasses that made him look like something from a Milton Berle comedy skit. His makeup appeared garish in the bright sun; the effect was surrealistic.

Landis and Buzzy looked up and almost laughed. No matter how used to Neil's wardrobe preferences they became, they still had to stop themselves from making comments now and then. Neil sensed this and became indignant.

The fresh fingernail polish glinted as he handed over the papers to Landis.

“Here they are, all the latest changes.”

Buzzy rubbed his forehead. “Could you get me some aspirin?” he asked Neil.

“I'm not your maid,” Neil snapped, obviously as unhappy with Buzzy as Landis was today.

“No, but you dress like her.”

“Fuck you!” shouted Neil, and lunged for Buzzy. For his size, Neil was an amazingly strong person. He'd always been athletic and kept himself in good shape, unlike the perpetually whacked-out Buzzy, who was about as inclined to exercise as he was to volunteer for an IRS audit. Neil pulled him out of his chair and pinned him against the railing.

Landis tried to pry Neil's hands loose, but the incensed transvestite would not give an inch. He pushed Buzzy's head back until it was hanging over the cliff, his upper body bent over the wooden rail. The red fingernails squeezed into his neck.

“Hey!” Buzzy yelled. “Hey! Let me go!”

“I've put up with your shit too long!” screamed Neil. “I'm gonna teach you a lesson you'll never forget!”

Landis wedged an arm between and tried to separate them, but Neil pushed him away. He released his right hand from its death grip on Buzzy's Adam's apple and slapped him hard across the face, aggravating the injuries he'd already suffered. The sunglasses were jarred off his head and spun out into the canyon, helicoptering down into the brush below. Beneath the shades, Buzzy's eyes were red and squinting, one of them already discolored in a classic shiner. He tried to turn away from the sun, but Neil held him tight. Buzzy yelped in pain.

“Say you're sorry,” demanded Neil.

Buzzy looked at him with grim determination not to give in. Neil, not really waiting for an answer, slapped him again. This blow caused Buzzy to bark in pain.

Landis considered trying to intervene again but knew that it was useless. Neil was truly enraged and beyond Landis's control. He wondered if the tough little tranny was going to heave Buzzy over the side and put him out of his misery once and for all.

“Say it!”

Buzzy coughed, making choking sounds. His eyes rolled back up into his head.

“Say it, asshole!” Neil demanded.

“I'm sorry,” Buzzy said softly.

Neil released him and he slid back onto the terrace. Buzzy was embarrassed and his face throbbed. He looked over the edge to see if he could locate his sunglasses. They were nowhere to be seen.

Neil glanced at Landis and said, “I'm ready to start whenever you are.”

Landis nodded. “Okay, let's work in the kitchen.”

Leaving Buzzy to his own hell on the terrace, Landis and Neil slipped back inside and sat down at the big kitchen table, where Neil had set up his typewriter. Landis preferred to work in the kitchen rather than in an office. He could think with more clarity and had access to the coffeepot. The informal arrangement made for better decisions.

“Let me see page sixty-one,” Landis asked.

He read in silence, then looked up and said, “Could we read this together? I'll be Luboff and you be Tad Kingston. Take it from the top of page sixty.”

The script was cool and crisp in his hand. Landis scanned the pages like a shark.

CADAVER

Script by Landis Woodley and Neil Bugmier

Scene 41.

INT. NIGHT. LA COUNTY MORGUE JOHNNY CONFRONTS DR. EZEKIAL

J
OHNNY

I don't understand. These corpses are fresh. They haven't been prepared.

D
OCTOR

That's just the way I want them, Johnny. You see, I have a special need for them, different from the medical college.

J
OHNNY

Doctor, I don't think I can do this.

D
OCTOR

Sure you can, Johnny. You want to be a medical doctor someday, don't you?

J
OHNNY

Well, yes, I do.

D
OCTOR

Your mother would be very disappointed if you dropped out now, wouldn't she Johnny?

J
OHNNY

Yes, Dr. Ezekial.

D
OCTOR

Bring me that cadaver over there, and remove the sheet. I want to examine its organs to see if they're suitable for my purposes.

JOHNNY GOES OVER TO THE CORPSE, PULLS BACK THE SHEET, AND GASPS. IT IS THE BODY OF HIS BEST FRIEND, NICK GARBO. JOHNNY DROPS THE SHEET BACK ONTO THE CADAVER.

D
OCTOR

What is it, Johnny? Somebody you know?

J
OHNNY

Doctor! It's Nick! He's dead!

D
OCTOR

Of course he's dead, Johnny. That's how you get in here. But don't worry, we'll give him a nice clean dissection.

J
OHNNY

No! You can't! It's insane!

D
OCTOR

Insane? You call me insane? That's what they said back in Vienna when I told them I could transplant live organs from one body to another. They said I was mad. Mad! But who's to say what madness is? Certainly not the doctors! They condemn me, but they have no right! It is I who should condemn them! I am not insane! I have never been insane!

BEHIND JOHNNY, COVERED WITH A SHEET ON THE SLAB, THE BODY BEGINS TO RISE UP. THE SHEET FALLS AWAY TO REVEAL THE HIDEOUS DEAD FACE OF NICK. IT SITS' UP, SWINGS ITS LEGS OVER THE SIDE, AND STANDS. JOHNNY AND THE DOCTOR TURN AROUND AND SEE IT SHUFFLING TOWARD THEM.

J
OHNNY

It can't be!

D
OCTOR

Get back! Get back I say!

THE CORPSE LURCHES FORWARD. JOHNNY STUMBLES TRY ING TO ESCAPE.

D
OCTOR

Something has caused it to reanimate! If I could just—

JOHNNY SCREAMS. THE CORPSE REACHES OUT AND STRANGLES JOHNNY WHILE THE DOCTOR LOOKS ON, FASCINATED BY THE REANIMATED CADAVER. THE CADAVER KILLS JOHNNY AND TURNS TO THE DOCTOR.

“Okay, hold it right there, Neil. This is where I want it changed,” said Landis, breaking character.

“Changed?” Neil asked.

“Yeah, I can't kill Tad Kingston this early in the movie, it's gonna hurt the door.”