The names are made up, but the story is real…

Wednesday night, the wonderful Alice blessed us all with her presence. I was neither disappointed nor excited. Things started off okay, she gave me a bottle of Scotch, and not just any old Scotch either, the fancy single malt $75.00 a bottle kind. Her boyfriend bought it for her but she didn’t like it. Either way, I did and now I have a wonderful beverage to break out at social occasions. And that was Wednesday night.

Thursday I awoke at 11:45AM, began working on the tedious assignment of my law class, made two eggs, had my tea and pondered about what I could do that day. Alice came up to my room and began talking, her mouth opening and closing like a machine gun. I didn’t mind at first, I got the usual “this is what I have been doing, etc.,” jive. I listened. She even had bought cheese and crackers, claiming that we could eat them later with some wine.

“We could go to Bottles and Corks,” I told her. “Newman can get me a nice deal on wine.”

Her eyes popped out of her head and began to fade to yellow. Her lips stretched into a beak and her thin red tongue shot in and out of her mouth like a snake, flapping and flapping. Her modest teeth grew into fangs, her fair skin morphed into green scales with bumps, much like watching green water bowl.
“I’M DONE WITH HIM!” She shouted, fire exploding out of her mouth nearly engulfing my head.

And faster than she had transformed she was back to normal.

“If you don’t want to go there, I guess we could go to the other place.”

“No,” she said quietly. “We can save money.”

“Okay then” I said.

The car ride over her mouth was at it again.

“I don’t know how to deal with things because no one ever taught me. That’s why I am the way I am,” she bantered.

“Well,” I began as if to speak profoundly, “you could always learn instead of stewing in your own little world.”

It nearly happened again. The eyes pooped, her lips began to grow,

“Or not…” I said.

She went back to normal.

“Do I have to be fake to Newman?” She asked me when we pulled up to the store. “Or can I be my blunt self and say ‘Hey, your dumb and I don’t like you.’”

“You don’t have to be fake, just…cordial.”

“So fake.”

“No, nice.”

“Fake.”

“Nice.”

“FAKE!”

“NO NICE!”

“FAKE! FAKE! FAKE!” The car began to shake. Her hands formed into giant paws similar to a lion with yellow and black claws. Her right crashed down on the dash. The claws sunk in deep into the plastic and with a quick pull back she ripped off the entire front piece.

“Okay! Fake!” I said. “How are you going to pay for your dash board?

“MY MOM WILL PAY FOR IT!”

And with that, she was back to normal.

There Newman was, bagging wine when we entered. I did a Fonzie greeting and followed Alice over to the liquor.

“What were you in the mood for?” I asked her.

“I don’t know, I’m just looking.”

“Oh, well you know, since Newman has worked in the wine store I sort have
became a wine connoisseur.”

“More like a drunk!”

“Okay, look by yourself.”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO FOLLOW ME AROUND!” She shouted, only it sounded like a cross between Darth Vader and Janet Reno.

“Okay then!”

I walked over to the bin where the held my personal favorite, Campos Reales - a wonderful dry red wine. I picked up one bottle, looked over to Alice, then picked up a second. At the check out, she put next to mine Red Table Wine and White Table Wine.

“Wait,” I said. “I’m paying for it all?” I said.

“You said earlier that you owed mom two bottles of wine.”

“I know, but that was Dr. Frank, not...this stuff.”

“So, get the other shit.”

“And spend another twenty dollars?”

“FINE!” She shouted in that deep voice again.

She went out the door and I looked to Newman.

“God help you,” he said.

For there we went across the street to Wegman’s. She needed to buy some apples for the mass amounts of cooking she and her mother were going to do. It was her plan to cook a lot of the Passover food ahead of time so there wouldn’t be chaos at the last minute. It sounded like a good idea…at the time.

We made our way home. Her brother, Andrew, was sitting on the couch, his eyes red as lava and his mouth open as if it were unhinged. In one hand he held a gallon of milk, in the other a bag of Doritos. In a bizarre fluent motion he would grab a handful of chips, take several bites, wash them down with a swig of milk, burp and repeat. Next to him was his girlfriend, Erin. She was a tiny blonde girl with big boobs. She sat there on the edge of her seat, hands placed elegantly on her knee gazing at Andrew with a bright smile.

“You’re so hot.”

(BURP)

“Heh, thanks baby.”

He leaned in, puckering his milky, cheesy, Dorito crumbed stained lips and pressed them into her cheek. When he was done, he left an imprint on her face. I shuttered.

“Hey man,” he said looking up to me.

“Where’s mom?” Alice asked her brother.

“Uh, I don’t know…”

(munch, swig, BURP)

Seconds later she pulled in and was in the house. She was a short woman with curly brown hair – and she was loud.

“MY BABY’S HOME!” She shouted when she saw Alice.

She gave her a big hug.

“GET OFF OF ME!” Alice’s diabolical voice kicked on.

Her head twisted, her face began boiling green, her yellow eyes popped out, her lips extended, her teeth grew…

(BURP)

“I love you,” Andrew said and kissed his girlfriend again.

Her mother now was hugging a monster with the face of a dragon and the arms of a lion. Her claws ripped into her mother’s back and she let out a scream. Alice threw her across the room and into the couch. She landed like a rag doll on top of Andrew and Erin, sending the gallon of milk to fly in the air. It came crashing down over the three of them like a storm.

“Mom! You stupid bitch!” Andrew shouted. “You crushed my chips and ruined my milk!”

“I’m sorry my little boy!”

She rolled off Andrew and Erin and stood. Her shirt was ripped and her back was bleeding. She looked over to Alice, who once again had returned to normal.

“So how about those cheese and crackers?” I said to Alice.

“I don’t want them now!”

“Why not?”

“I DON’T!”

“Why don’t you want cheese and crackers?” Her mother asked her.

“BECAUSE I DON’T!” She said sending fire out of her mouth.

“Okay!” Her mother said with a smile.

Andrew and Erin went up to their room. I had munched on a few crackers, ate cheese and took a bottle of wine up to my room. There I sat for the next hour, drinking wine and listing to Bach, trying to think of what made Alice that way. In the past when I had talked about it with others, the conclusion was she wasn’t “getting any” after her horrible break up with her Swedish fiancée. She spent a year with no boyfriend, let alone any love or lust interest. Then, her ex-boyfriend was sent home from the war (the same one she had dumped to move to Sweden) and before we all knew it, Alice was happy again. When I saw her after that, she never transformed into a beast. What could it be now? What was her problem?

Once my wine was done I came down stairs for round two.

“I’m drunk!” Alice said to me.

Her eyes seemed to glitter and her smile was warm. Perhaps, I thought to myself, she just needs to be drunk all the time. Maybe that will prevent this transformation.

“How much have you had?” I asked.

“A hall of a bottle.”

“That’s not a lot.”

“For me it is! I’m not drunk all the time like you!”

Maybe booze wasn’t her answer.

“Hey Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeevin,” her mother said to me.

“Yes?”

“We finished cooking the matzah koogle!”

“HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS!” Alice shouted.

“Are you fu**ing kidding me?” I said. “How long have I lived in a house that practices Judaism? How many Seders have I been to? How much Yiddish have I picked up?”

“You’re stupid,” she said.

“Kaker punumm,” I responded.

“HA!” Her mother laughed.

“What?” Alice said blankly.

I went into the living room and took a seat. I decided to drink straight from the bottle. The cat appeared, meowing like crazy and jumped into my lap. I gave him a few pats on the head and he settled down, curling up in my lap. It was kind of peaceful for a few seconds, until-

“YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” The booming voice echoed through the house.
The cat jumped off me, his hind paws digging into my thigh, I let out a whispering moan of pain. Dishes began to crash down from the cupboards, pots and pans clanging and banging. I ran to the kitchen and there she was. Her legs and feet were that of a horse, her stocky arms now covered with golden hair, her face that of a lizard. Her head twisted and contorted as she arched forward. She let out a roaring scream with her claws extended. Her mother simply stood there with a big smile on her face.

“Alice honey, calm-OH!”

She threw her right paw across her mother’s face followed by left. Her head shook around, blood flying in multiple directions. She kicked her hoofs out from under her and kicked her mother twice while spinning into a back flip.

“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted.

Her head spun and looked into my direction. She roared, sending a huge burst of flames in my direction. I jumped to the side, still feeling the heat singe my back as I landed hard on the dinning floor.

“I’m too drunk for this right now,” I said getting up.

I heard the roar again. She now was over me, her claws extended, her tongue flapping over her face. I think she wanted to eat me. I gave her a solid kick in the knee and she screamed, falling backwards. I stood up and ran into the kitchen. Her mother looked at me with a bruised eye, bleeding cheeks and a fat lip.

“Aren’t you glad Alice came home to help out with Passover?”

Alice roared again.

“So glad,” I said.

Alice was up again, sleeking toward me like a cat ready to pounce. I quickly opened the drawer and pulled out the knife I had stolen from the Outback Steakhouse.

“Bring it bitch!” I said.

We slowly circled each other, keeping our eyes locked. She let out a few roars and made the first move. Her left paw came down fast, tearing the front of my shirt as I jumped back to dodge. I followed through with a quick upward cut, slashing her hairy arm. She let out a moan of pain.

“Excuse me kids, I need to get to the blender,” her mother said.

As she walked toward it Alice backhanded her, knocking her across the kitchen and into the stove. She shook her head and slowly stood.

“I’m so glad Alice is helping me with Passover.”

“You got to be-”

I shouted as her burly arms wrapped around me. I could feel her claws pierce into my back. She let out another roar. Her sweet, sour stale breath engulfed my nose, burning the hairs. With a free hand I raised the knife and brought it down hard into her shoulder. Her scream pierce my ears until they began to bleed. She threw me up, sending me through the ceiling into Andrew’s room.

I lay there a few seconds on my back, covered with debris, dirt and blood. I could feel the floor shaking as if it were an earthquake. It was a rhythmic like motion, almost like a train.

(ba-chum, ba-chum, ba-chum)

“What the-?” I said sitting up.

(ba-chum, ba-chum, ba-chum)

I looked over to Andrew’s bed and nearly threw up.

“Ah, damn it!”

Alice busted through his wall, knocking over his desk. His computer came down with a crash, his lamp fell over and broke, sending electrical sparks flying. She stood there, her eyes filled with rage her jaw open, exposing the rows upon rows of sharp teeth. The knife still hung in her shoulder.

(ba-chum, ba-chum, ba-chum)

I jumped to my feet and charged at her. A solid punch to her stomach and she let out a cry of pain, followed up an uppercut knocked her ugly ass through the door, topped off with a round house kick sending her down the stairs. Her twisted monster body flung about as it rolled down the stairs. I couldn’t help but laugh.

(ba-chum, ba-chum, ba-chum)

“Uh, yeah.”

I looked down at the bottom of the stairs. She wasn’t moving. Her left hoofed leg was twisted, her right arm bent in a direction it shouldn’t be bent, her neck was skewed the right. I slowly walked down the stairs, keeping on eye on her. As soon as I hit the third before the landing I felt my knee cap shift to one side. I yelped with pain falling over the banister and onto the roll-top desk. She limped over to me, picked me up and threw me at the piano. I hit the front, crashing through the wood then rolled down the keys with an awful sound and fell through the bench.

From the corner of my eye I could see her moving in for the kill. I frantically looked around. Needed something! Ah ha! I picked up a broken leg from the bench and swung. BOOM! Across her face, sending an arch of blood from her mouth. She looked at me again, roaring. I followed through with another hit across the face. BOOM! A hit under the chin, CRACK! Another hit across the face, BOOM! She staggered backwards like drunkard, flapping her arms around to keep her balance. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell, almost knocking the house of its foundation.

“Alice?” Her mother said from the other room. “Alice?”

“She’s,” I said breathing hard, trying to catch my breath, “She’s sleeping.”

“Oh!” She said. “You mind helping me take this stuff to the neighbor’s freezer?”

“Sure.”

I threw the bench leg at Alice and walked into the kitchen. I picked up the matzah koogle and walked next door.

“Aren’t you glad Alice came home so we could get all of this done?” Her mother said, spitting out a couple teeth.

“Yeah,” I said.

When we got back to the house Alice was back as her human self sitting in a chair. Her eyes were puffed, blood trickled down her face, and the knife was still in her shoulder.

“If I had never come home Passover would never happen,” She said when she saw us.

“I bet!” I said sarcastically.

“What’s that supposed to mean you alky?”

“Nothing,” I said.

I found my bottle of wine, amazing untouched by the melee and returned to my room. Once a bitch, always a bitch…

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...