The Head (795 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.86 on 22 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by ghola (View user info) at 2008-01-11 18:06:23 EST
I stayed up late unpacking. There were tons of boxes. A few of them had the word "kitchen" or "bathroom" scrawled across them in sharpie marker, but I'd open them up and find nothing but trash or old books. At two or three in the morning I decided to go to bed. Just leave all the unpacking and sorting until the morning.
I brushed my teeth, spitting toothpaste almost directly down the drain and I gargled twice with Listerine.
I sat down on the toilet and there was a gurgling noise underneath me. I slid off the seat real fast, my ass smacked the floor and my forehead rammed against the side of the tub. I turned around, with my pants still around my ankles, and I peered into the bowl.
A man looked up at me, or rather; a man's head looked up at me. "Hello," he said. He was bald, but had a full beard. The red-orange hairs prickled with water that dripped off his chin.
I struggled to pull up my jeans without sitting up so he wouldn't see me, though he'd just seen all there was to see.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.
He shook his head to one side, like he was trying to get water out of his ear.
I finished buttoning my jeans and I jogged out of the bathroom to find my cell phone. It was in the middle of the living room floor and I grabbed it and went on my front porch. I dialed 4-1-1 and the operator answered.
"I need a plumber in the Appling County area," I said.
"Hold please," she said and after a few seconds she connected me to Neal's Plumbing and Electrical.
"There's a guy in my toilet," I said.
The man on the phone didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then he coughed. "Say what?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "A guy living in my toilet and I want you to get him out. He must be stuck down there. I imagine it's awful."
The plumber coughed again and then the line went dead, just that steady tone that no one likes to hear.
I thought about dialing information again, but I couldn't imagine anyone taking me seriously. I thought about calling the police too. Then instead, I went back inside.
I stood in the hallway, just outside the bathroom.
"Who are you?" I called into the bathroom.
"My name's Craig," the head answered. His voice echoed. The acoustics inside a toilet must be incredible.
I took a step into the bathroom, still standing in the doorway.
"Why are you in my toilet?" I asked.
"My wife stuffed me down here," he said. "She chopped my head off and the only way to stop the bleeding was with some sort of tourniquet. The drain gets so small, that it squeezes my neck and the bleeding must have stopped, or I'd be dead."
I took another step in and peered down at him.
"How long have you been down there?" I asked.
"A few days," he said. "I'm not sure."
"What about your wife?"
"She left," he answered.
I sat on the floor and bent over the toilet so I could see him better.
"Why'd she do it?" I asked.
He tilted his head again, like he was trying to get the water out of his ear.
"Do you need a q-tip?" I asked him.
"I'm dying for one," he answered. "I have raging swimmer's ear."
"Hold on," I said.
I hopped up and half-jogged down the hall to the living room where all the boxes were. Somewhere buried in the bottom of one, there had to be a box of q-tips or some cotton balls or something. I opened one marked "bathroom" and it was full of pots and pans. I opened one marked "car" and it was full of canned vegetables. In desperation, I sliced open one that wasn't labeled. Inside, was about 48 rolls of toilet paper. I grabbed one, started unraveling it, and walked down the hallway.
"Think this will work?" I asked, holding up the roll.
"I'm sure," he said.
I knelt down and swiveled the tissue paper in his ear, trying to sop up all the water. I dropped the paper on the floor and leaned back so I wasn't hovering so close to his face.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
He raised his eyebrows, crinkling them so they looked like squiggly S's.
"I don't have much of an appetite. I've been here for days."
"Do you want me to call someone?" I asked.
He pursed his lips and said, "No. I don't want anyone to see me like this.
"Hey!" I said, suddenly thinking of it, "What happened to your body?"
"She took it with her," he answered. "She had a hard time dragging it. I could hear her grunting and dropping it every few minutes. I'm surprised no one saw her with it outside, because it was the middle of the day."
"So you're just going to stay in my toilet?" I asked.
"What else will I do?" he said. He bit his bottom lip, sucking it so far into his mouth that his tongue grazed his beard hairs.
"How will I go to the bathroom?" I asked.
"Not here," he answered.
"What'd you do that was so awful?" I asked.
He sighed. "I cut her hand off. It was mostly an accident. I just meant to threaten her with the knife, wave it around and stuff, but the damned thing slipped. Then I didn't know what to do, so I dropped it in the toilet and flushed. I didn't think there'd be enough water pressure for the thing to get sucked away like that."
"Oh," I said, because I wasn't sure what else to say.
I must have fallen asleep leaning against the wall in front of the toilet. I dreamt about that guy, stuck in the toilet and his handless girlfriend. What kind of guy cuts off his wife's hand? How had she managed to chop his head off?
I woke up the next morning and he was singing.
"I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down and the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire."
I wiped the crud out of my eyes and sat up.
"I've gotta know," I told him, "Why you'd cut your wife's hand off."
"I didn't mean to," he said.
"But why?" I asked.
"I didn't mean to," he repeated.
I pushed myself up and stood over him with my foot propped on the edge of the toilet.
"Tell me," I said. "I just don't think I can take it. I can't take a head living in my toilet if you don't tell me why you cut her hand off. I mean, you could be dangerous."
He laughed. He tried to throw his head back and laugh, but he hit the back of the toilet with a smack and quit laughing. "I'm just a head," he said. "What would I do?"
I poised my foot over the crown of his skull.
"Last chance," I said.
He stared up at me, water lapping around his neck.
I hit the handle, the toilet whooshed and I stomped down on his head. He squeezed through the drain, and I saw his eyes pop out, all bloody, right before the current drug him away.
User Reviews
Submitted by experima (user info) at 2008-01-27 20:41:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 ghola
Submitted by locksly (user info) at 2008-01-15 07:02:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
mmmm not bayd
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2008-01-15 03:10:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
enjoyed it.
Submitted by Grimm (user info) at 2008-01-14 10:59:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2008-01-14 09:09:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2008-01-12 02:23:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2008-01-12 00:30:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
thanks zebra. in all that muck i managed to find a better ending.
:)
ahahaha
You bitch.
Something about your work brings it out in me.
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2008-01-12 01:47:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Now I see your request. I shall help ish.
Physics does not allow a full human head to pass through the S-shaped piping in the toilet.
The head cannot survive on it's own. No blood regulation.
There's only so much nutritional value from fecal matter, as food passes through your body's highly efficient filtering system, and exits as largely unusable waste.
"Suprise, you're on candid camera!"
"While you were down there, did you see Goldie? My parents flushed her, but I didn't think she was dead."
"Watch out for sewer gators"
"Feel the muddy wrath of last night's tacos!"
I wouldn't change a word of this. Then again, I don't write like this, so it'd never exist in the first place. I'd also defend it to the death, with the same defence I use when I tell people I listen to jazz, which is if they don't like it, then they just don't understand it, as it's the new style, far before it's own time.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2008-01-12 00:30:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
thanks zebra. in all that muck i managed to find a better ending.
:)
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2008-01-12 00:20:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
See, it's things like this that let me know it's Gholatime.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2008-01-11 22:30:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Ditch the article in the title and get rid of all the unpacking.
I guess you're presenting the protagonist as a new occupant and the head and his wife as former occupants, as well as lulling the reader before the shock, but you really don't need it.
The former is better explained with a single sentence and you don't take enough time on the latter to successfully accomplish that goal.
If the story is going to be this short, just get the fuck to it.
The head's story is not believable. As I've told you before, the more outrageous the premise the more believable the details need to be.
It's pretty hard to use a kitchen knife to sever a hand without a lot of effort and an unconcious victim.
"...mostly an accident..." and "...the damned thing slipped..." just doesn't cut it. (haha)
Are we to take the head's story at face value? (haha again)
Put more effort into the head's explanation. If he is unwilling to tell her the story, what's the reason for his reticence? Is he lying? If so, why?
If he IS lying, come up with a real story and the lie. You need to know both even if the reader doesn't. It also might be effective if his wife's reaction was completely out of proportion to his initial transgression. 'Biting one's head off' is a common expression for just such an occurence.
I mostly liked your dialogue. The q-tip bit was nice, especially since it was her idea.
"I struggled to pull up my jeans without sitting up so he wouldn't see me, though he'd just seen all there was to see" is a nice line.
I don't care for the phone call to the plumber as comic relief unless you change the POV to that of the head (which is more interesting btw). Then all the head knows is that she ran out of the room for a minute.
This way, your payoff, (if you want to go cheap), would be the plumber's entrance, a truly horrifying sight to the head. Coming after the head and the protagonist bond in their conversation (much more than you have presently), the ending would be the head's realization she betrayed him, just like his wife. Just like all women.
You could, as an exercise, write it from the POV of the head AND in third person just to see what you discover from each.
It's possible to use multiple POVs if you know what you're doing and want to make a little more of the story.
If you want to keep the POV you have and just need a better ending, I guess you could have her unpack a plunger, but it would still work better from the head's POV so that she leaves and then suddenly reappears with the plunger in the doorway like a gunslinger.
But you'd still need them to bond more to make it pay off.
The title has a double meaning as written, of course. But it could have a triple meaning if you go a bit further. Figure that out and you'll have still another option, both how to start the story and how to end it.
"Head" is good.
sadie73 is actually not so far off the mark, in spite of the crudeness of her suggestion.
Submitted by freebie (user info) at 2008-01-11 22:19:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
What kind of load did you drop to prompt this pile of shit?...hehehehe......
Submitted by sadie73 (user info) at 2008-01-11 21:18:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yep, Shlongy always +2s the twat, even though he is a pussy himself.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-01-11 21:10:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Try this:
"The End".
It always works on MY masterpieces.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2008-01-11 20:32:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
that's why i asked for suggestions.
i'm having trouble with the ending.
Submitted by Wildman (user info) at 2008-01-11 20:21:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
this was so damn close to being perfect until you ended it the way you did
the missed possibilities...for shame
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2008-01-11 20:20:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It's very well-written. You chose your words carefully, and a few times I thought "that line is just perfect."
The only line of the whole thing that really struck me as out of place was "..and I imagine it's awful." A little empathy for him in the light of her shock is endearing, but I just think she'd say it a different way.
You're more creative than I am, but if I have any ending ideas I'll share.
Submitted by sadie73 (user info) at 2008-01-11 20:10:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Maybe you could just decide to sit on the pot anyway and let him kiss you on your hoo-hah, after which you keep him alive in the toilet for your continued pleasure. . .
Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-01-11 19:48:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-01-11 18:59:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You could have his head be attached to a snake's body. Other than that, I'm not sure.
It would seem you've painted yourself into a corner, considering that you've already established that you can't move his head, or he dies (end of story..or is it?)
Suppose that instead of when you wake up and talk to him, you wake up and it really was just a dream, and you wake up in bed, sleeping with a horses head instead.
You could call the story "Drop Dead Fred" or "Floating Head Ned".
But really, it's all a moot point since you've ended up in Baxley. Nothing noteworthy ever happens there, which makes the story unbelievable even for fiction.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-01-11 18:43:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Shit, I repeated the word dead.
Now I must die by mine own hand.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-01-11 18:42:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh my fucking CHRIST.
I spent the morning considering firing off a lunchtime quickie, a short horrorish tale called 'Head,' which involved... uh... a head. Got busy and posted that snowman shit instead.
I might do it tomorrow when I get my ass out of bed and scarf down a sandwich made on Wonderbread. But the fear of -2's fills me with dread, I wish some of these assclowns were just fucking dead. I hate it when people slam stuff, stuff they've not read, they should have their weiners tied off with thread until a urinary infection leaves them quite dead.
Well that's it, there's nothing left to be said.
PS - Is Shlongy still trying to get into your bed with the same old lines repetitavely pled? When you say no does his face get all red and in anger speak Yoda-ese ("Me on, you have led!")?
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2008-01-11 18:06:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
alternate ideas for endings?