B-Movie War Read Free Page A

background. The beach bimbos spiked, served and scored to win their game. A cooler of beer was opened as the guys guzzled them down and watched their girlfriends in action. Behind them, a transient in a tattered overcoat, dirty hobo face and long hair helmed a metal detector. The detector beeped. He dug his hands into the sand and retrieved an axe. The beach called out to the bum, and the bum listened. The bum’s thoughts were attuned to the spirit of the beach. Attuned to the spirit of The Beach Bum Slasher . The man who drowned years ago while crowds of beachgoers did nothing to save him, too caught up in their game of volleyball to save the drowning man.
    The beach whispered to the transient, “ You will now become “The Beach Bum Slasher.” Use this axe…carve my name into their backs. Avenge me. Carve ‘Ricky Black’ into their backs. Cut off that blonde’s tits. Slice their heads off. Then put them on different bodies. May they rest in pieces. I summon you. Avenge. Me . Ricky. Black .”
    The whispers, “ Ricky Black…write Ricky Black into their backs ,” repeated as a mantra. Then, “ Cut those tits off…cut those tits off…tits…off …”
    The transient, guided by the spirit of The Beach Bum Slasher , went to work on the young beach goers hacking off heads, tits, and carving names into their backs.
    Jules was oblivious to it all.
    The beach vanished. Darlene disappeared again. Jules returned to his task. There was no night, or day, or hour break. Time didn’t exist. Only work. Jules’s hands were bleeding as he clutched onto those damnable scissors to cut yet another strip of film. He shivered from fatigue. Jules opened and closed his eyes, and no matter how many times he did that, his eyes felt gummy and dried out. He was hanging onto his sanity, frail and thin as grainy super 8 film.
    Movies used to be his solace. His reason for living. His absolute passion. The very reason he acquired so many bank loans, zeroes to his debts and dust bunnies in his savings account. Movies were entrenched in his childhood. His house growing up was literally behind The Red Ruby Cinema House. He spent the majority of his childhood catching cheap flicks. Jules’s fascination with movies increased from there. He didn’t have any real friends in high school. He was overweight. He also had a streak of uncontrollable flatulence. They called him “blow ass”. When he’d tie his shoes, he’d let one go. Jules would be walking down the hall, stepping up stairs, or answering a question in class, and he’d let out a fart. And they didn’t smell pretty either. He was taunted mercilessly.
    Jules didn’t care that he didn’t have a girlfriend until his early twenties, and that he didn’t marry until he met Darlene. He retreated to the Red Ruby House Cinema after school and sat on those red plush seats to catch a movie. Nobody bothered him at the theatre. Nobody laughed at him. Nobody called him names. Jules worked as a manager for the Red Ruby House Cinema until he was in his mid-thirties. Earl Haggerty, the owner, closed it down to retire. Jules later worked at the local video rental store as an assistant manager. When that place went out of business, he inherited a stockpile of used VHS tapes. He had well over a thousand movies in his collection, easy.
    A great opportunity came from the video store. The store owner, Kevin Newman, offered Jules to go fifty-fifty in a new business venture, and that was taking over The Odyssey Theatre. They got a good price for the property and a sizeable bank loan. Within the first three years, they paid off their debts. Kevin later died in a head-on car accident. Jules became the sole owner.
    A chill entered his body. The quick flashback of his life made him realize what he was doing in this room was insane. Darlene couldn’t be alive. She was dead. Dead for years. Why did she look younger?