Little Rosa, Lotsa Trouble -- Part 4

Mama Yaga pulled me down to the grave and commenced her love makin’ ways upon me. I surrendered to her in ecstasy-type fashion, as she surely led me to the promised land of sexual pleasure and whatnot.

Yup, we was really goin’ at it. Doggie style, the wheelbarrow, some Missouri side-twist, the kangaroo piston glide, the piledriver – basically the best of the Sovine playbook.

After what seemed like twenty minutes or so, but must have been at least thirty, we was layin’ on the soft earth above Little Rosa’s rotting remains in a state of love-making exhaustion, our clothes thrown about like a tornado hit the clothesline. Mama Yaga was snoozing like an angel in my arms when I heard a voice in my head again.

“Red. Red... RED!! Wake up!”

“Huh, is that you, Wildman?”

“Yessir, it’s me. Look, Red, I gotta come straight with ya’. You just done a terrible thing. You’ve desecrated the grave of…”

“… A Gyspy Witch? Of course you have, Red. HA HA HA HA!” Mama Yaga cackled. She was now standing above me, somehow slipping out of my lovin’ arms as I talked to the ghostly Jerry Reed.

She wasn’t lookin’ so hot no more, either. In fact, she looked like the old hag I remembered from my childhood – basically a sack of potatoes if you stuffed ‘em in some stretch pants, then mashed some of ‘em up with a sledge hammer.

She musta been talkin’ in my mind too, since she could hear everything the Wildman was sayin’ to me. Just then she flew into the air with what had to be some magical-type powers. I shot to my feet and tried to pull on my britches, and got them about halfway on doing that hop-around-on-one-leg-while-you-try-to-put-the-other-leg-in-dance.

“Yes, Red, you fool, you have desecrated the grave of a Gyspy Witch, and in the worst way possible – with the body and spirit of her killer. You’ve as much as summoned her soul from damnation to occupy her body again, and to raise an army of the dead to destroy you, your family and all you’ve befriended! They won’t stop until all of your insufferable clan is dead, and I will rule the Gyspy race alone! HA HA HA HA!”

Whilst she was speechifyin’ I quietly picked up a rock about the size of a softball. “Shut up, you old hag!” I shouted, and hurled the rock at her with all my might. It struck her square in the saggers.

“Owww! How dare you assault me with this crude physical attack?! I can rend the flesh from your bones with a mere flourish of my hand!” She moved her arms high above her head, crepe-y arm skin wagglin’ like leathery bat wings, like she was fixin’ to drop all kind of magical bad assery upon my person. I cowered below, but couldn’t look away.

Then, she stopped, looked about with a bemused-type smirk on her face, put her arms down to her hips and floated all smug-like. I heard a faint sound of scratchin’ and diggin’ all around me, but I just couldn’t look away from Mama Yaga to check it out.

“Well, it does not appear that I will have to exert the paltry amount of energy required to destroy you, as you now have plenty of new friends to occupy your time. Farewell for now, Red, and rest assured that, if there is a next time, you will not strike me with such a lucky shot. HA HA HA HA!”

And with that, she flew away at rapid-type speed, over the trees and back towards her house.

“Lucky shot?” I shouted after her. “Not to brag, but my accuracy with thrown projectiles is well known within trucker circles!” I finished puttin’ on my drawers and looked for my shirt.

“Red! You better commence getting’ outta there right quick-like. She wasn’t lyin’ with that bit about new friends!” I almost forgot I had been talkin’ to Jerry when all this hell broke loose.

I looked around me, and could now see what Mama Yaga was talkin’ about and the noises I had heard. Rotten-lookin’ hands were emerging from the ground, digging their way out of the long-settled earth and whatnot above their graves. I could hear terrible screams and moans coming from the ground, as them monsters clawed their way back into the world of live people. I backed away from Little Rosa’s grave, as the ground below me began to quiver.

Suddenly, the ground around Little Rosa’s grave exploded, takin’ that beautiful rose bush with it. Dust hung in the air, mixin’ with a fog that I hardly noticed had settled into the area. I picked up the lantern I’d carried from Mama Yaga’s house and held it I front of me, but I could hardly see three feet in front of my dang face.

“Who dares to call me back from the Land of the Dead?” a raggedy, but definitely female voice wailed from the dust. “Who has defiled this place with that accursed witch whore?”

“Uh, she went that away,” I said, pointing to the sky. “See if you can catch her at home. It ain’t far.”

“FOOL!” the voice said. “It was YOU who besmirched this place! My grave! Prepare to face the wrath of the gyspy army of the undead!”

I had an idea about who the screechy voice belonged to. As the dust cleared, I could see red, glowing eyes all around me, glowing through the fog, unrelenting-like in their stares. And they were getting bigger, getting closer, until finally emerged a walking woman of the dead. I’ll be damned if’n it weren’t Little Rosa herself. Looked just like her picture in the old man’s house, ‘cept for all the rotten flesh and bugs and stuff.

I backed away quickly, stumbling on rocks, and got one of my feet all twisted up in some of Mama Yaga’s discarded unmentionables. I left it wrapped around my ankle as I headed toward where I reckoned the gate was, but was stopped by a wrought iron fence. I was trapped!

The dust was clearing a bit more, and I saw the gate over to my left. If I could just hold them back for a moment or two, I could run for that gate and get the hell out of here.


“Not a good time, Wildman. In a little situation here...”

“I realize that, you fool! I’m trying to help you. Look at your feet, the Tequila bottle! Use it and the uh, whatever it is you got wrapped around your foot to make a bomb, of sorts. Zombies are afraid of fire!”

Of course! One o’ them Molotov cocktails, Mexican style! I grabbed the tequila bottle at my feet, pulled old Yaga’s dirty skivvies off my shoe and stuffed them into the mouth of the bottle. Rosa and the zombies shambled closer, so close I could smell their rotting, stinky flesh. I grabbed the lantern, opened up the shade to expose the flame. I ignited the panty-wick with the lantern, raised the flaming bottle above my head and let them draw slowly closer, closer… then…

“Truck-Fu!” I yelled as I threw the bottle down, shattering against Little Rosa’s gravestone. It ignited into a fireball, catching several of the closest zombies on fire. Rosa screamed a rage-type scream as her zombie companions floundered around in flames. Seeing my opportunity, I ran like hell toward that gate, barely escaping the grasp of the Zombie Rosa.

“It’s no use, running, Defiler! We will catch up with you sooner or later. We’ll never rest until we have taken revenge!” Zombie Rosa screamed as I scrambled away from the graveyard.

I ran like hell through them woods, seein’ as I had to get back to the old man’s place to sound a proper warnin’. I figured it was the least I could do after having sex on his dead wife’s grave and bringin’ her back to life and all.

Thinking about my narrow escape, I thought to Jerry, “Wow, Wildman, how do you know so much about zombies? And you ain’t sounding so much like you’re from Alabama no more, either…”

“Yes, Red, it’s me, Little Joe. The Jerry Reed impression was a ruse. I needed a way to keep track of you, as you have done such an excellent job of losing yourself the last few months. Your dreams were the perfect vehicle. I apologize if you are offended. However, I can see now I was quite foolish to allow you such a long leash. Fighting an army of the undead is hardly the outcome I wished of your little break from responsibility.”

“So my Space Dog friend can do impressions, too. I ain’t offended. Just disappointed. I really hoped the Wildman was helpin’ me. Man, that would be a kick! Like jammin’ with your idol or somethin’. Can you relate?”

“Yes. In my youth, I once fantasized playing Mind Wars with the galaxy’s grand master, Krepton of Reptus 12. Of course, now I realize that such things are tomfoolery and best left to simpletons.”

“Uh, yeah. What’s next here?” I was running like a bat outta hell through the woods, and it was hard to maintain one of these mind conversations without running flat into a tree.

“First, as you correctly thought, you must warn the old man of what you have done. He’ll need to prepare defenses, both practical and magical. And you’ll need to help him. Second, you must make the zombie army itself the target of your attacks. The Zombie Rosa can only be killed by one of the Gypsy kind, and you, my friend, do not qualify. I must do a few things of my own – I’ll be back in touch soon.”

With those ominous words, Little Joe signed off outta my brain. I was almost back to the old man’s place anyway. I was sure grateful for Little Joe’s help, as he had a right to be sore with me since our adventure with the Chupacabra.

“Giuseppe! Giuseppe! Wake up!” I shouted as I headed for his front door. “We got a world a trouble comin’ this way!”

Just as I reached the door to knock, Giuseppe pulled it open forcefully.

“I'm-a well aware of your-a dealings with-a the she hag Mama Yaga, Red. You have-a done a very bad-a thing with this, yess-a you have!” he said to me, standing in the doorway.

We both stood there for a moment, him angrier than a hornet’s nest dipped in Preparation H, me guiltier than the sin that has no name. I hung my head low. Finally, Guiseppe broke the silence.

“But, I know you did it with-a the best of intentions, Red. I know you was-a only trying to help-a poor Giuseppe. Come in, we have many things to do and very little time to do it!”

He stepped aside and let me in.

I was lucky he did, because besides all the crazy stuff that had gone down this evening, I was feelin’ an itchy fire in my loin area.

I think Mama Yaga done give me the crabs.

Little Rosa, Lotsa Trouble -- Part 5

1 comment:

Meara said...

You write very well.