The Bate's Motel DOES Exist - 2nd HALF
Here's the deal, folks...
This is, as indicated, the 2nd HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this piece had to be posted in 2 parts.
The 1st HALF can be accessed, of course, by going to - "Poems by Mark Stellinga" - on the Soup. Sorry for the inconvenience...
Thanks for reading, or listening, or both...whatever the case may be -
Cheers,
Mark
Dawn and I were cheering all the while. We knew big sister had a real bad temper, and was not afraid of men.
And super proud of what she’d done...as we left the office...Dawn was glad to kick him in the you-know-what’s again!
Back inside the SUV, knowing we’d dodged a bullet, Dawn proposed an answer to the problem that we had.
“Next small town we come to...if we find ourselves a mall...and wind up sleeping in the car...that won’t be as bad
As what we nearly did just now. Can you believe that guy. Insulting us the way he did, I should have kicked him twice!
And I agree with Crystal...if we’d stayed there overnight…..we’d all be scratchin’ everywhere from the bedbugs - fleas - an’ lice!
I agreed completely and prepared to start the car, when...something that I’m sure has happened sometime once before...
Almost killed the three of us. A big ol’ monster lightening bolt nailed us on the luggage rack...shot right through the door...
Then swept across the dash and blew the rear view mirror to hell! The ignition switch was barbecued, the seats began to smolder,
And everybody knew the car was likely catching fire, and those of us who harbored plans for - getting any older -
Realized that time was fairly short for getting out. Choking on the blinding smoke, we found the doors had locked,
So I kicked out the windshield - to enable our escape. Back inside the lobby, it was clear the dude was shocked
To see us all come bursting in, and - sniveling like a coward - before we’d spoken, shouted out...“There’s been a cancellation!
Our wedding suite, with 2 king beds, is yours...and it’s brand new! I wouldn’t want, in any way...to ruin your vacation...
“So, you can have the room - no charge! I’m sorry I called you fat...and giving you the suite for free’s my way of -- making peace!”
Well...not the type to be this nice...I felt it far more likely that he was more concerned about us -- calling the police!
Now...given what had happened to our charbroiled SUV, and all but what we’d thought to grab had just gone up in flames,
Only seconds later we were standing at the counter, turning around the register, and filling in our names.
“This so called ‘suite’ had better be a set-up fit for Kings,” Crystal snapped, “‘cause if it ain’t...we’re comin’ after you!”
“The room is gorgeous - just been cleaned,” the quivering clerk assured, “with a minibar - two king beds - and everything is new!
“I’d help ya’ with your luggage, but I’m having trouble walking. The rooms on either side aren’t rented...shouldn’t be hard to sleep.”
“If it is, you’ll hear about it,” Dawn Marie forewarned...“we’ll look you up at checkout time...you nasty little creep!”
We took the key then found the room he’d promised us was nice, and when we entered, sure enough, the place looked pretty swank...
But how it smelled was something else...and - in between the beds - was where we found the answer as to why the whole room stank!
Still a little moist, we found a reeking pool of vomit stretching from the headboard to the middle of the bed.
The bathroom had no soap or towels...the TV screen was cracked...there were no drapes, and what they’d used for privacy instead
Were fitted sheets, with various colored stains from -- who-knows-what. In less than 90 seconds we were standing at the desk
Where - Mr. Bull**** - who we found was just then heading out - was touching up his makeup for an evening of ---- BURLESQUE!
Scared to death we’d kick his ass, he grabbed his you-know-whats...backed against the wall and whimpered, “What’s the problem, guys?”
“You’re not going out like that?” a freaked-out Crystal barked. “I’ll bet you’re actually thinking that - by wearing that disguise -
“No one’s going to know it’s you - behind that purple lipstick? Your two-toned Hitler mustache is a virtual giveaway!
Absolutely sure I’d seen the world’s most twisted weirdo, you...ya’ lyin’ pile o’ poo-poo…proved me wrong today!”
As we left, I called up nine-one-one to find a flatbed...someone who could haul our car to where it had to go.
The guy I got - a small town cop - provided me the number for someone he referred to as, “The only guy I know
Who fixes cars”, but then explained, “He doesn’t have a flatbed, which means that…if your car won’t run...he’ll have to pull it in.
You say you’re at - the ‘Bates Motel’. I hear it’s really classy, but others say it’s not the fanciest place they’ve ever been.”
“My car was hit by lightening, sir...so, yes...he’ll have to pull it. It nuked the wiring - locked the doors - and burned it to the bone!
But if and when I reach the guy, I’ll make him understand that if and when he heads this way - he best not come alone!
The fact is, you should tag along...that is - if he’s a friend. The creepy dude who runs this place needs locked up in a cell!
We caught him sneakin’ around just now - dressed up like a woman...which tells ya’ all ya’ need to know about ----- the Bates Motel!”
Copyright ©
Mark Stellinga
|