Dirty Frank

“I’m telling you, old-school Pearl Jam!”1

“And I’m telling you new school Pearl Jam.”2

“How could you like the new school Pearl Jam? I mean Eddie’s voice just isn’t the same. It’s all subdued and quiet. Where’s the screaming and yelling. The minute long ‘Yeah, yeah, oh yeah!’ ramblings at the end of the song. It’s classic!”3

“But there’s no substance! What does that portray? The way he sings now is so powerful. Yeah, maybe he has softened up a bit, but his music benefits from it. There’s more meaning to it, both in his lyrics and sound.”4

“How could you say there’s no substance? Those ramblings have more substance in them than every song off of Riot Act combined! When he’s rambling, he’s revealing the true pain from inside himself. Jeremy, Black, Release Me, all those songs benefited from the ramblings.” 5

Limpy and Papa Long Legs, two seventeen year old, extreme Pearl Jam fans, were arguing over which time era was better. They both had on Pearl Jam shirts; each shirt representing a different era of Pearl Jam. Limpy wore a shirt with a picture of the Ten album on it, while Legs wore a shirt with the Riot Act album on it. The only kinds of clothing they wore that were the same were their wrinkled blue jeans, their Nike shoes, and the normal white socks. In general, everything except their T-shirts. Limpy was a short guy, about average height, with a little weight on him. His eyes were naturally bulging, and they only bulged more from disbelief to the point where they looked like they were about to pop from his big head. His hair was dark black and spiked up front. Papa Long Legs, more commonly known as Legs or the P double L for short, was just about the opposite of Limpy, not just in appearance, but also in his Pearl Jam era preference. He was a tall wiry fellow, but he did work out and was beginning to fill in. His hair was short like Limpy’s, but it was a dirty blonde color and thicker in comparison. His eyes, while not Asian in appearance, were smaller than Limpy’s, giving his face that look of sensitivity. 6

The argument continued to rage while Groupie sat a few seats away, twirling one of her blonde highlights around her finger. She chewed a piece of Winterfresh with her mouth open, making smacking noises. Not that it annoyed anyone. Legs and Limpy were busy annoying themselves, and the bus driver just drove and minded his own business. Groupie sat staring out the bus window, watching the empty countryside pass her by. What she was really looking at was her reflection. She glanced at her brown hair, which had blonde streaks in it, going over it briefly with her hands to press down any frizzy hairs. “My God, I have such huge bags under my eyes,” she observed sadly, wanting to look her best for Eddie. She rubbed her belly, wishing it could be a little flatter. Flashbacks of her chubby childhood would flash through her mind whenever she glanced at her stomach. She wanted to make sure she never looked like that again. 7

Either way, her plan was still set. Tonight, she would profess her undying love for Eddie. She would sneak backstage, give some false promises to the guards, and finally meet her true love. People always said it was just a crush and that it would pass in time, but Groupie knew otherwise. Ever since Ten debuted back in ’91, she was head over heels for him, and would remain that way until her dying days. That’s why people called her Groupie, since she hung out with all sorts of bands. She wasn’t the only one with big hopes. Everyone on the bus was hoping to get a chance to finally meet with Pearl Jam, and tonight would be the night.8

“We’re taking a stop at a gas station,” announced the bus driver. “I’m only allowing twenty minutes tops. We need to keep moving. Just go to the bathroom and maybe eat something. But I’m not waiting for anyone who is late. If you’re not back in exactly twenty minutes, tough luck. I’m gone and you’re stuck.” Legs and Limpy were a little off settled by this speech from the bus driver. “Why are you in such a hurry?” asked Legs, his curiosity easily peaked. 9

“Don’t you want to see this concert? Really, you’re the ones who are in a hurry. You were saying that if this bus was just a minute late and you missed one single song you would be all pissed off. Just cause I’m a bus driver doesn’t mean I don’t have good hearing. In order to be a bus driver, you have to have a highly developed sense of hearing. Never know when some psycho will come plowing down the street.”10

Legs turned back to Limpy. “Let’s just agree that Pearl Jam is an all around kick ass band. Agreed?”11

“Agreed,” quickly answered Limpy, knowing what Legs wanted to do. “Maybe,” started Legs, “we’ll get a good story out of this.” He turned back to the bus driver. “What do you mean psychos?” The bus driver was timid about answering and kept quiet. “Is there a psycho around here? Perhaps a homicidal maniac?” He and Limpy tightened their lips to suppress their laughter. “What, you just presume that since we’re on a road in the country that there’s a killer stalking the streets?” insinuated the bus driver. Legs and Limpy wanted to answer, but knew they would laugh, so they remained quiet. “I can tell you guys are big horror movie fans. If there’s one thing that those movies are right about, it’s what you are presuming. Out here in the open country, there is no safe place unless you’re in a good-sized town. The only close-by town like that is the one you’re going to see that band in. So that’s why I don’t want to make any stops. But I’m low on gas, so that’s the only reason we’re stopping.” 12

“Do you think there are any psychos around this area?” asked Legs, a little curious after seeing how serious the bus driver was. The driver was quiet for a few moments. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Groupie listening to her walkman, which she had just put on. “The only reason I’m going to tell you this story is maybe it will make you move fast once we get to the gas station.”13

He took a deep breath and began. “Supposedly, in a small town that has since fallen to the past, there was a family, known as the Dahmer’s. I don’t know what kind of family, but I guess they were real messed up, cause something went wrong in their son’s head, Frank. Supposedly, he killed off his family and went mad. Of course, the town didn’t know any of this. They kept going to the small motel that the family ran. When they asked about his family, he said they were on a trip, looking for a new place to move to. But the townspeople began to suspect something was up when people started turning up missing. They started to suspect foul play on Frank’s part, thinking he killed his family. There were debates, and one night they decided to investigate. While he was away in town, a couple of cops went up to the motel and scoped it out. What they found is just too sick for me to describe, so I’m not, because you won’t need to know the details to be scared. Anyways, it turns out Frank had been killing people, but before the cops could return to town, Frank stopped them and in a fit of anger, killed them both. He killed everyone at the motel, then jumped into his truck and ran amok in the town. He smashed through buildings, stoplights, people, anything that could and coudln’t cross his path. When the night was over, the body count was at a hundred, possibly more. That following morning, the townspeople up and left the town, abandoning it. Ever since then, people say Frank Dahmer, or Dirty Frank, cruises up and down these roads looking for more people to run down and...” He stopped, just barely keeping himself from revealing the hideous truth. “Let’s just say he doesn’t do anything pleasant to them afterwards.” Legs and Limpy were silent, knowing their chance to laugh and discuss was coming soon. 14

The gas station was just looming into sight up ahead. There Legs and Limpy agreed to discuss more about the Dirty Frank story. The bus pulled over and the doors opened. “Remember, twenty minutes. That’s it. If you want to ask me something, I’ll be at the gas pumps. There’s a diner here that has some decent food. Just make sure you hurry up,” reinformed the bus driver. They all exited the bus and entered the diner while the bus driver pulled up to the gas pumps. Groupie sat in a corner booth and proceeded to take a smoke while Legs and Limpy sat at the diner bar and ordered a couple of cheeseburgers. “So do you think any of it is true?” asked Limpy. 15

“I don’t know. If I remember correctly, this is the part where we say we don’t believe any of the story and laugh about it right before we are attacked. I think I’m going to believe in the story. Why would he lie about it?” said Legs, using his horror film logic to explain his reasoning. 16

“Well, he could either be a sad pathetic man who likes to get off by scaring passengers crapless or he is a delusional madman who thinks anything can be real, ranging from the Easter Bunny to this Dirty Frank. Or maybe he had a messed up family that has emotionally scarred him for life. Or maybe he’s possessed by a demon or ghost.”17

“Or maybe he’s telling the truth. You saw how concerned he was about us leaving right away. I’ve never met a bus driver who wants to get his passengers somewhere as quickly as possible. They usually don’t care. Not only that, but I could see that sense of urgency in his face. He’s definitely spooked about something.” The two of them pondered over the suggested theories. 18

“Or maybe you two boys watch entirely too many scary movies,” chimed in Groupie, puffing out a cloud of smoke. The two pals turned around to look towards her. They knew that smoking wasn’t supposed to be sexy, but seeing the way it enveloped and hid away her details, there was something mysterious about it. “So, she actually talks,” retorted Limpy. “You don’t even know what we’re talking about.”19

“Dirty Frank or whatever his name is. You think he exists, huh?” She laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine what’s going on in those demented little heads of yours. Personally, I was never a big fan of horror flicks. I always found them way too cheesy.”20

“How did you know we were talking about Dirty Frank?” asked Limpy.21

“I saw that look on both of your faces. You know, that look a person has when they’re listening to something really gripping. I figured maybe the bus driver knows something about Pearl Jam. Maybe he met with them once. So I turned down my walkman and heard you guys talking about some lunatic named Dirty Frank. I’m starting to think you two are the lunatics for believing in that total bullshit. The guy is just yanking your balls.”22

“That’s what people usually think and they’re the first ones axed off,” protested Legs.23

“Whatever, I don’t have time for your horror movie philosophy babblings.” She put away her pack of cigarettes and stood up. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to get ready for real life matters, like meeting with Pearl Jam.” 24

“How are you going to do that?” asked Legs, thinking she was just lying to piss them off. 25

“Obviously, I have a backstage pass,” lied Groupie as she continued to walk. “Do yourselves a favor and let the horror thing go. It died after the Scream trilogy.” The two pals sat in awe. “I can’t believe it!” exclaimed Limpy. 26

“Tell me about it. How did she score a backstage pass?” complained Legs.27

“No, I mean how she could even think the Scream trilogy was that great. The horror genre fell apart after the eighties!” Legs sighed in frustration. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe this whole horror thing is stupid. Just think of all the great films that we missed because we were watching movies with bad acting and terrible special effects.” Limpy slapped Legs across the face. He shook it off. “Thanks. For a second there, I thought I was a goner.”28

“Hey what are friends for? Besides, just think of all the real life info you would have lost if you turned your back on horror flicks. You wouldn’t remember to always turn around to see the villain come up right behind you.” Limpy suddenly jerked up. “What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Legs. Together, they turned slowly around to see that the bus was no longer at the gas pump. It had vanished. They bolted from their seats and ran outside. “Where the hell did the bus go?” asked Legs, his heart beating like mad against his chest. “I-I don’t know...” mumbled Limpy, his voice trailing off. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” exclaimed Groupie, who had just exited from the diner. “He ditched us!” 29

“What are we going to do? How the hell are we going to get home?” Legs said this as he paced back and forth, losing his arrogant attitude and beginning to panic.30

“How are we going to get home?” mocked Groupie. “Screw that! How am I going to get to the Pearl Jam concert!?” She looked around for another car and luckily found that there was one at the gas pump. As she began to run off, she yelled to Legs and Limpy. “If the bus driver comes back, just tell him I found another way there. And remember what I said about the horror stuff!” Once she reached the guy who owned the car, they exchanged a few words and she entered the car. The two pals stared blankly as she and the guy drove off down the road, towards the Pearl Jam concert. “What are we going to do?” asked Legs in a subdued voice. “I don’t know man. I don’t know...” answered Limpy, feeling truly doomed for the first time in his life. 31

A couple hours passed, and the sun was beginning to set. The outdoor sign lit up on the diner, the generic letters illuminating the surrounding area. The overhanging lights by the gas pumps came on as well. However, it probably didn’t matter, since no one had driven up since the car that Groupie hitchhiked with. Fireflies floated off the harsh cold fall wind, which was picking up speed. The small bulbs on their bottoms flashed on and off, only to lighten up nothingness. The fresh fall air gave Limpy that feeling of nostalgia. His friends would come over and he would make a small fire in the backyard. The smell of burning wood seemed to strike his nose, even though there was no fire. Everything good seemed to happen to him in the fall. Today was that exception. “We’re doomed,” said Legs, his feelings similar to Limpy’s. Just as their hopes seemed utterly crushed, Limpy heard a noise in the distance. It sounded like an engine. He waited to say anything until he could make out that it was a bus. He began to jump up and down, shouting, “Hey, over here! Hey!” 32

“What the hell is your problem?” complained Legs, his heart leaping up again after finally settling down. When he saw what Legs saw, he began to jump up and down too. The bus pulled over and opened the doors. It looked exactly like the one they were on before, but it was covered in dirt and grime. One of the tires wobbled back and forth as the bus pulled up. They were about to rush on when they were taken aback by the grotesque figure that sat in the driver’s seat. “Well, yous comin’ on or not?” said the figure, seeming to struggle with the words. The hand he held on the door handle was worn with age and labor. He was probably thirty, but he looked like he was fifty. Blisters and calluses covered his hand. He wore a bus driver cap, which was too small for his head and sat tilted to the right. That and too small to cover up his bad comb over, which could still be seen on the left side of his head. Heavy dark bags sat under his eyes, larger than Groupie’s. Warts and pimples riddled his face, which was caked with oil. He wore a raincoat, covering his bus driver uniform. The boots that he wore looked like they should have been replaced a few years ago, with holes on the sides and the front coming up on the right shoe. They were covered with mud so thick that worm’s still crawled within, feeling perfectly at home. He scratched the back of his head, creating a sickening noise that no simple scratch should create.33

“Wells? Gets on befores I has to desert you.” The two pals inched their way onto the bus, keeping their distance from the driver. They sat back in the middle seats as the bus pulled away from the gas station. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” said Limpy, showing concern due to the shady look of the bus driver. Legs already had an escape plan arranged. “If things start going downhill, just go out the emergency escape in the back.” While not much of a plan, it was all they had. Now they were at the mercy of the bus driver and they hoped that he wasn’t as crazed as the way he looked. 34

The two pals stared out the window, choosing the emptiness outside instead of the bus driver. Limpy received that feeling of nostalgia again. He wished he could live in the country. All that fresh, cool air. For a moment, he seemed to be transported out into the country. He could see himself running around, free from the burdens of life. Of course, he still wished there was some technology around like a CD player, and a computer, and a TV, and cable...alright, so maybe he’d like the country for a short while, before he would begin to miss technology. 35

They hoped that if they kept staring out the windows and avoided eye contact, the driver wouldn’t want to talk to them. They were wrong. “So yous goin’ to dats Pearl Jams concert, huh?” he asked. They nodded. “Deys good guys! I met dem once. Very nice!” They nodded again, even though there was nothing to nod about. Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere, the driver bent down and picked up a jug of whiskey and began to chug it down. Within minutes, he was beginning to feel the effects, as well as the bus, which began to gently swerve back and forth. “You guys are boring! Usully deys real funnys!” His speech was even worse than before, now that it was slurred. “I’s got a ideas!” he screamed as he swerved off the road. Limpy and Legs began to panic. “What’s he doing?” asked Limpy in a frantic voice. “Giving us a reason to bail!” Just as Legs proposed the idea, the bus swerved again, throwing them down to the ground. Once they stood up, they viewed a town straight in front of them. It was rundown and dilapidated. The buildings looked like they were smashed apart and the streets were full of debris. It almost looked like the alternate universe to some classy fifties town. “It couldn’t be,” spoke Legs in an astonished voice. “What? It couldn’t be what?” asked Limpy. Within a few seconds, he came to the same realization as Legs. They were approaching the hometown of Dirty Frank, which could only mean one thing. 36

“Here we’s goes!” cried the driver as he began to smash into the buildings. The buildings, already weakened, began to fall apart on the bus, covering it in debris and rubble. Everyone was screaming at the top of their lungs, the driver in excitement and Legs and Limpy in terror. A hobo could be seen crossing the street and was in the path of destruction. Limpy wanted to yell out the window, but the bus swerved and hugged up against the wall of a building. Before the hobo could look up to see what was going on, he was run down. THUMP! THUMP! The noise doubled from the front and back wheel running over the hobo’s head. The wobbly wheel fell off from the impact, causing the bus to slow down. “Now’s are chance!” declared Legs as he grabbed Limpy and pulled him towards the back escape. They kicked the door open and jumped. The impact was hard as they rolled for several seconds before they stopped. They regained their balance and watched the bus continue driving off. They were on the outside of town. Limpy said, “I think we just met-”37

“Dirty Frank. Yeah, I got that when the driver went mad.”38

“Well let’s run while we can,” said Limpy, but on his first step a sting of pain shot through his left foot. He sprained it. Legs aided him up and supported him as they ran up a hill in the opposite direction.   39

When they reached the top, they saw a series of buildings. The buildings were uninhabited, but the two of them just needed somewhere to hide. They ran to the closest building and entered. The room was very plain, with just a small dresser, bed, and TV inside. The wallpaper looked like a plaid shirt, with a checker design. “Where are we?” asked Limpy. 40

“It looks like some sort of-” and then it struck Legs. 41

“We’re at the motel. Dirty Frank’s motel!” Without hesitation, they both stood up and ran back outside. A dozen or so cars were bunched together out front. 42

“Check all the cars for their keys and we’ll get the hell out of here!” exclaimed Legs. They checked a few cars before Limpy recognized one of them. 43

“Wasn’t this the car that that girl hitchhiked with?” he asked. Legs walked over and observed the car. The windows were dirtied over, but other than that, it was the same car. 44

“Stand back,” commanded Legs as he prepared to open the passenger door. He took a brief pause before yanking the door open. Nothing spilled out, but there was blood all over the interior. 45

“Well, if we had any doubts about Dirty Frank, which we didn’t, we can safely put them to rest and find another car,” suggested Limpy. They entered the car at the end of the line since it wasn’t trapped in. Sure enough, the keys were in the ignition. After a few tries, Legs started it and began to pull out when a meat hook came flying through the front windshield and hooked in through one of Legs’ cheeks. He screamed out in pain as his flesh was stretched out by Dirty Frank’s mighty pull on the chain. 46

“Help me!” Legs muffled as he was pulled through the front windshield and down to the ground. Limpy exited and tried to catch up to Legs’ body, but his foot gave out and he fell. 47

“Legs!” he screamed out in anguish as Dirty Frank pulled Legs into one of the motel rooms, his horrendous laughter resonating through the chilled night air. Gathering up his last strength, he dragged himself into the room and realized it was the residence for Dirty Frank’s family. Portraits and pictures covered the walls, blanketed with dust and cobwebs. The house’s odor was old and stale; like today was the first day it had any kind of fresh air. Legs’ screams echoed throughout the house. 48

“Legs where are you?” 49

“Help me!”50

“Tell me where you are!”51

“Ahhhhhhh! God no, please don’t do-” Legs’ voice was cut off. SMASH! The screams stopped. 52

“Legs,” whispered Limpy to himself. He fell to the ground, and began to weep. “Why?” he asked himself. “What did he ever do wrong? What did I ever do wrong?”53

“Is not what you did,” said Dirty Frank, who now stood looking down at Limpy. “Is what yous goin’ to do.” He grabbed Limpy, who was too awestruck to try an escape, and brought him into the dining room. Four corpses sat upright in their seats. A male was seated at the head of the table, with an older female alongside him, and a younger female across from her, probably the daughter, with a baby in a highchair next to her. As Dirty Frank tied Limpy to a chair, he made with the small talk. 54

“Lucky for yous, you made it just in time fo’s dinners.” He tied him up with rope and sat next to Mother with Baby across from him. A clock sounded off in the front of the house as time itself seemed to rewind. Everything in the room began to reverse. Life returned to a dead bouquet of flowers, the petals returned on the stems and reverted back to their former beauty. The corpses reanimated, rotten flesh reforming normal texture and the facial features becoming more detailed. The dust and cobwebs that covered everything flew away into nothing. The table regained a lost leg and the plates and silverware regained their luster and rich look. Now that the room was clean and the table set up, dinner could start. 55

“Grace,” said Father, signaling the start of dinner. 56

“So what did you make for us today Frank?” asked Mother. 57

“My’s favorites!” he exclaimed as he removed the cover from the dinner plate. Limpy was revolted. Groupie was bunched up on the plate like a pig. Her eye sockets stared blankly out and she had been flayed, revealing the body’s stringy muscles. An apple was stuffed in her mouth. Garnish was neatly set out around the body, or meal depending on the perspective. 58

“Smells good,” complemented Father as he began to cut the meal. 59

“I want a wing!” demanded Sister. 60

“Goes aheads, I just want the head.”61

“The head? Son you forgot to remove the head. I don’t need my meal staring back up at me while I’m eating,” complained Father. He went in the kitchen and came back out with a cleaver. With one fell swoop, he lopped off the head. He took it and brought it back into the kitchen, then came back out to eat. Everyone was busy eating. 62

“Does your friend want any?” asked Mother. She tried to offer Limpy a thigh, but he just winced away. 63

“Have it your way.” She took it back for herself. 64

“Where did you meet your friend?” asked Mother. 65

“I mets dems at a Pearl Jam Concert,” answered Frank.66

“Aww, that’s sweet! It’s good to see that you have some friends outside the family.” 67

Sister began to laugh. “Why don’t you date?” she asked Franky. “Y’know, I have this one friend-” 68

“No,” protested Franky half-heartedly. 69

“But you’ll really like-”70

“No,” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Besides, she’s probably fat or ugly. Anyways, I still won’t have a chance.”71

“Shut up! I’ll make sure you at least make out with her!”72

“Make out!” chimed in Father. “Go all the way son! Take that bitch down!”73

“Honey!” scorned Mother. “I’m sure she’s not ugly. Besides, you can bring your girl, who I’m sure is pretty, around here when you feel like it’s time.”74

“Eww! Franky’s got cooties!” yelled Baby.75

“Shut the hell up!” shouted Franky, causing Baby to start crying. 76

“Now look what you’ve done you asshole!” protested Father. “You made the baby cry!” He slapped Franky. 77

“Both of you stop swearing!” demanded Mother. “You’re not being good role models. And stop hitting each other!” 78

“Shut up you dumb bitch! I don’t need you’re damn Oprah tip of the day bullshit!”79

“I think Franky’s dating a fat ugly whore,” insisted Sister, who began to cackle. “He won’t admit he had to pay her just to get some!” 80

Baby stopped crying and began to laugh. “Franky’s got cooties, Franky’s got cooties! Dirty Frank, Dirty Frank!” 81

“I think Frank is gay. Whose your little boy toy?” continued Sister, her cackle growing louder. Baby began to laugh even harder, snot coming out of his nose.  82

Franky began to turn red, both embarrassment and anger. 83

“Shut up,” he said, his voice a faint whisper. Everyone continued to talk and make noise. Father and Mother bickered, Sister cackled, and Baby taunted and laughed amusingly. 84

“Please, shut up,” said Frank in a whimpering pleading voice. No one listened. 85

“SHUT UP!” he screamed, causing everyone to stop in silence. 86

“Just be quiet,” he said gently, his eyes closed and his muscles tensed up to prevent himself from committing any violence. 87

“What have you done?” said Mother, her voice shaky in sorrow and disbelief. Frank felt something warm begin to come down his arm. It felt like some kind of liquid. He opened his eyes, and saw his brother’s face covered in blood, a fork protruding out the back of his head. Frank moved his head slightly to the left and saw the baby’s eyeball floating in the air, held up only by the fork. Frank immediately let go of the fork, removing the force that held up Baby and allowing the body to slump forward, the fork driven further out the back of his head. A small puddle of blood began to form around the head, which filled up the small mountain of mashed potatoes Baby had made. 88

“You stupid son of a bitch!” exclaimed Father as he stood up to attack Frank. But Frank was quicker. He turned over the table, catapulting all the food up into the air, along with Groupie’s skinned body. Limpy’s chair was knocked over, breaking one of the chair legs. He lay on the ground, still in shock, which had only grown in intensity. Frank landed on top of Father, who was startled by Frank’s actions, and placed his massive bear hands on Father’s cheeks. 89

“You made Baby cry! You made Baby cry! You woke up Baby Jesus in his cradle of filth! Now I have to send you to Hell!” rambled Frank. Father struggled to free himself. 90

“I thought you said he wasn’t watching the evangelists anymore?” asked Father, looking to Mother. She didn’t answer, but just sat frozen in her seat just like Sister. Frank continued on with his evangelic psychobabble. 91

“In the name of the Lord, I heal you.” He raised his hand high in the air and screamed, “HEAL!” as he brought it down hard upon Father’s head. A crunch sounded, followed by the squish of splattered brains upon the walls and floor. Some even landed on Mother. Frank breathed heavily, excitement and the fear of change shaking him up. He turned to Mother, who began to scream but didn’t move, and grabbed her. 92

“It’s times fo dat ho Oprah! Les see what she wants da ho’s to do nows!” Tugging her by the hair, Frank pulled Mother into the front room. Limpy slowly began to come to, realizing his life was in jeopardy. 93

‘If Legs were here, he’d tell me to get off my stupid ass and escape!’ That’s exactly what he decided to do. He grabbed the broken chair leg and began to cut into the rope. He hoped to be free and escape before Dirty Frank came back. 94

Meanwhile, Frank threw Mother down on the couch and turned on the TV, Oprah’s face popping on. She was talking about her book of the week. 95

“You has dat ones ma!” said Frank happily as he picked up a book and threw it at her. It hit her square in the face, tipping the couch over. 96

“Now yous cain’t see da ho. I know! I’ll bring the TV to yous.” He picked up the TV and walked over to Mother. Without hesitation, he dropped the TV down on her head. Sparks shot forth as Mother’s body was taken a hold by tremors and began to convulse. The TV died, as well as Mother. 97

Limpy was halfway through the rope when Frank returned. 98

“Now I must purifys the otha ho!” He grabbed Sister and carried her outside to the shed, Sister starting to scream when it was too late. Limpy continued to cut through the rope, praying that he would be able to free himself before Frank returned, since Limpy would be the only person left alive. That and a fire started from the candles that were knocked over during Frank’s rage.  99

Frank slammed Sister down on the workbench and chained her down. The shed stunk of some unknown odor, like dead rotting animal on a hot and humid summer day at high noon. Something gas powered was flipped on; a loud whirring noise came forth from it. Frank had a chainsaw. 100

“Nows I prove dat ho’s have no souls!” The chainsaw came crashing down on her arm. She screamed out from the excruciating pain, her scream’s volume only overcome by the sound of the chainsaw grinding against her bone. The arm came off, and Frank proceeded to do the same to her other arm and legs. 101

Once they were all off, Frank stood still a moment, almost passing out from the adrenaline rush of revenge. Sister sat, trying to regain her breath. Her chest was heaving, the only part of her body left besides her head. Frank cackled. He revved up the chainsaw once more and brought it down upon her untouched torso. With great accuracy, he sawed down the center from the groin up to right below the neck. He set the chainsaw down and stretched open the incision. 102

“Where’s dat soul?” he questioned as he broke off the ribs so he could begin sorting through the various internal organs. He pulled out the lungs, the intestines, the heart, the liver, the appendix, the kidney, the other kidney, all the while saying, “No, not’s it. Not dat. Or dat. Maybe dat... wait no.” Through all of this bloody mayhem, Sister laid there, mouth agape in horror and pain. Frank began to cackle again at the bloody sight. 103

“You has no soul to begin with! You succubus of Hell!” He roared a cry of victory as he drove the chainsaw down into what was left of the torso and on through the bottom of the workbench, until it was stuck. He fell back from his holy work and assessed the mess. 104

“So dis is what Hell looks like?” Then he remembered Limpy, and ran out the shed with a sledgehammer in hand.105

Limpy was almost finished with cutting the rope when Dirty Frank returned. When he saw that Limpy was trying to escape, he became even wilder with anger. 106

“You to blame for dis!” he yelled, angry that Limpy had not changed anything. He was about to attack Limpy when the fire shot forth and spread across the room, cutting off Frank from Limpy. 107

“Yes!” exclaimed Limpy, not just because Frank couldn’t attack him, but also because the rope was finally cut off. He rose up from the ground and began to run for the front room door. The ceiling broke apart and a wood beam fell across the door. Limpy tried to lift it, but couldn’t, so he headed for the kitchen door. He knew something terrible would be inside there, but it was his only way to escape the inferno. Limping at a quick pace, he entered the kitchen and found out he was right. 108

The kitchen was filled with abominations of all sorts. Jars sat atop a rack, filled with children’s heads, which were ordered in descending size. Some of the cupboards were open, revealing the fleshy ingredients they held inside. The fridge was all bloodied, filled with internal organs of every kind from both human and animal. Groupie’s clothes lay in a bloody heap in the corner of the room, along with some old raggy clothes and some other clothes that he noticed. It was the hobo’s clothes from the one that Dirty Frank ran over, and Legs’ clothes. 109

‘So he really is dead. There’s no way Frank would let him survive.’ Outside, the fire continued to spread. Smoke began to pour into the kitchen. 110

‘I’ve got to get out of here.’ Limpy continued to look around the room, but couldn’t locate a door. There was only one metallic door, but Limpy wasn’t sure where it led. With no other choice, he entered it, only discovering a dead end with more horrors abound. A dozen or so bodies dangled from meat hooks, among them the hobo, whose head was crushed beyond recognition, and Legs, who had been gutted out like a pumpkin on Halloween. Limpy fell to his knees. There was no escape. 111

“Why? Why did any of this have to happen? We just wanted too see a concert, that’s all. Why did we have to be attacked by some lunatic?” Doom began to settle into his stomach; his entire body began to shut down. He was almost lost forever, when common sense struck him. 112

“Why am I sulking like this? If Legs were here, he’d say I was nuts and to get out of here! I’m not going to let that monstrous slob mess with my head! I’ll kill him!” Limpy exited the meat locker just as Dirty Frank came crashing through the window in the kitchen and landed on top of him. He couldn’t move. 113

“Yous ruined everything. You’re no better than that dumb whore Groupie!” Limpy then remembered the guy she hitchhiked with. He looked a lot like Dirty Frank. 114

“She tells me she wants to bang the Pearl Jam guys, and I tells her theys not like dat, but she says dat doesn’t matter, so I killed her and cooked like da pig dat she was!” Limpy screamed out in anger as he grabbed a knife that fell in the struggle and stabbed hard into Dirty Frank’s side. He howled in pain as Limpy pushed him off. Dirty Frank lay on the ground, trying to keep his wound from bleeding. Limpy picked up the sledgehammer that Dirty Frank was holding and lifted it high into the air. 115

“Your nothing more than a second rate Leatherface you bastard!” he screamed as he brought the hammer down upon Dirty Frank’s head. He tried to rise, but he fell again, blood spurting from the open hole in his head. Limpy didn’t stop. He slammed the hammer down repeatedly, venting all his anger and frustration on Dirty Frank. Finally, he stopped. Dirty Frank lay dead, blood and holes all over his body. The fire had begun to spread into the kitchen during the fight. Limpy dropped the hammer and jumped out the window.116

He began to make his way to the car he was trying to take earlier when he saw a bus. 117

“Hey, over here!” he screamed out as he began to limp towards it. He was halfway across the lawn when Dirty Frank jumped out of the front door of the house in flames. He screamed and howled as his flesh burned away, but knew it would be worth it if he could kill Limpy. The bus stopped when the driver saw the fiery figure chasing Limpy. Limpy ran up to the bus and jumped in. 118

“GO!” he screamed. The bus driver listened and gunned it, just as Dirty Frank jumped in front of the bus. He was run down, the thump, thump, noise was heard from the tires rolling over the head. Limpy fell down into a seat and let out a sigh of relief as the bus drove away from the burning motel. 119

“What was going on out there?” asked a man from behind Limpy. 120

“I know that voice...” said Limpy aloud. He turned and couldn’t believe whom he saw. “You’re Eddie Vedder!” 121

“Yeah that’s right. What’s your name kid?”122

“Who cares! Your frickin Eddie Vedder! You totally rock! Especially the old school you, but I have nothing against the new school you!”123

“That’s okay. I get that a lot.” 124

“So where’s the rest of the band?” 125

“They’re at a diner. I just had to stop somewhere to get something first. I tell you what, why don’t you join us for breakfast. My treat.”126

“Oh, the concert! I missed it!”127

“Don’t worry about it. You can come with us to our next concert.”128

“Thanks man! I don’t know how to repay you.”129

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. Besides, it’s the least I could do to you after what you have done.” 130

“Again, I can’t say how much-” Limpy stopped suddenly. “What did you say?” Limpy took his first good look at Eddie, and realized he was angry. 131

“You know what you did? You killed one of the best damn chefs around here! Now where am I going to go to for that amazing insane soup and barbecued human chops?”132

“Oh my God! Now I remember. The song, I knew I’d heard of Dirty Frank somewhere!”133

“Yeah, that was our homage to him!” 134

“And Mike McCready was really eaten!”135

“He was going to leave the band! We were going to let him, but then we realized he’d plumped up a bit...”136

“Oh my God!” Limpy tried to make an escape, but was grabbed by the bus driver who had pulled over. He put a rag covered with chloroform over Limpy’s mouth, and he passed out. 137

When Limpy woke up, he heard someone ask, “So, who wants a thigh?” Those were the last words he ever heard. At least he got to go to the next Pearl Jam concert. He had the best seat in the house. Inside the band members stomachs.138