Withering Flats, Episode Two, part 5

(Episode 2, part 5)

Hello and welcome back to the story, folks! If you’ve just joined us for the first time, then get on down and read the earlier parts so you know what the heck is going on! For those who have been following the story so far, we left off with nasty Nick just finished trussing up sweet Janee with copper wiring and threatening to plug her into the electrical outlet. Let’s see what develops from this potentially shocking situation and pick up again at that point...

Stepping back to survey his handiwork, he rubbed his hands together in glee and said, “Now my sweet, you’ll see what happens when you refuse my reasonable offers!”

He picked up the two trailing ends of wire once more and was just about to plug them into the wall socket when he stopped, said, “Whoops!” put the wires back down, straightened up and said to himself, “No, no no!” giving a little chuckle, “Ha, ha, ha, mustn’t be too hasty... could be problems that way...” and then looked around the front hall in search of something. Spying the closet door on the opposite wall from where Janee was comfortable propped, he stepped over, opened it up and was immediately assailed by a powerful, rather foul odor.

“Ahhh...” nasty Nick breathed in deeply, “How I love your perfume, sweet Janee!” thus demonstrating how over all bad he really was. In the closet were three hangers, one which was empty, one holding a very large fur coat that appeared to made from a bear skin (“Hmmm,” mused Nick, “That reminds me of that lovely afternoon last summer when I put Janee in the cage with that delightfully angry black bear... I wonder whatever happened to it...”), and the third held, “Ah, just the thing!” Nick exclaimed as he pulled out the long rubberized, stained and crusty mackintosh, with a label reading Ernie’s Services sewn just below the left front lapel. He put this on over his own coat, then on the shelf above the hanger pole, next to a pretty pink bonnet, he saw a well battered, crust spattered, pink hard hat, which he reached up and took, saying to himself, “This looks promising, though it’s not really my color,” and he plonked it down on top of his black, oily-haired head.

There was a pair of large rubber boots on the floor which were a grungy match to the coat and hard hat, so he took those out as well. Carefully unzipping and taking off his own black boots, Nick pulled on the big rubber ones, stood straight, shrugged into the coat a bit, looked down at the boots, felt the hat on his head and declared, “Yes, this is just the fashionable thing for our little afternoon activity.” Looking across the hall to Janee, he smiled affectionately in anticipation. Reaching to close the closet door he saw, hanging from a hook on the back of the door, a pair of large, black rubber gloves that matched the coat and boots in design, material and crusty condition.

“Perfect! Just the thing I was looking for!” Nick cried in glee. He took them off the hook, tucked them under his arm, shut the door and strode back over to Janee. He reached down and picked up the plunger, wondering if he could perhaps put it to some kind of creative use within his plans for Janee, but just then the doorbell once again started ringing.

“No!” Nick shouted.

Ding dong...

“Not again!” Nick denied.

Ding dong...

“No fair!” Nick pouted.

Ding dong...

“Aw nuts,” Nick finally shelled out, and stomped over to the door, collected his composure, cleared his throat, pulled open the door and sweetly asked, “Yes, may I help y...?” and once again stopped in mid-sentence as he found himself facing a policeman, a fireman, an army commando and a nurse.

“Umm... uhh, hello, officer!” Nick stammered out, “What can I do for you all?” weakly smiling and hoping that perhaps they were selling tickets to the local charity balls.

“Trick or Treat!” came the same chorus as last time.

“What?” responded Nick, once more taken by surprise.

“Trick or Treat!” as the prerequisite bags were held up expectantly.

“Oh.. oh yes, heh-heh,” Nick recovered. He transferred the plunger to his left hand, still holding the rubber gloves under that arm, put his hand into his coat pocket, screwed his face up in surprise and pulled out a pair of large, crust covered goggles. He looked down at the pocket and recalled that he was wearing the rubberized overcoat, stuck the goggles back into the pocket with a thoughtful nod, reached into his own coat pocket and pulled out the box of foil packets. He held this out to the children and admonished, “Take only one apiece, Uncle Nick wants to have some left over for himself,” leering suggestively.

The four costumed characters each obediently reached into the box and pulled out a single packet (“What are these?” the nurse whispered to the fireman, who whispered in return, “I know what they are. My brother gets these. They are some kind of super balloon and they hold a LOT of water!”), and after each had had their turn they all chorused “Thank you, Mister!”

The policeman spoke up to Nick, “Hey mister, that’s a funny costume, but who are you supposed to be ... and what stinks?” scrunching up his nose.

Nick replaced the almost depleted box back into his coat pocket, took the plunger out from under his arm, raised it above his head in a regal pose and, with intense fervor, declared, “I am the Terror of the Town, the Purgative of Pleasantries, the Villain of Villains, the Embodiment of Evil and Terror, I am Nasty Nick Nak and I will ram this magic wand up your little behinds if you don’t scram pronto!” and he glared menacingly down at the four children. They stood still for a pleasurable second, then all broke into raucous laughter, “Ha ha ha!”

“You’re funny!”

“That’s silly!”

“Crazy!”

“Ha ha, thanks Mister!” and they turned and went on their way, as Nick lowered his arm and looked rather deflated.

“Kids nowadays,” he lamented, “No respect...” and he closed the door.

(end part 5)


Poor Nick... he gets no respect. Perhaps that’s why he acts out his little fantasies with Janee. But poor Janee, all trussed up and nowhere to go. Will Nick finally get to plug her in? Will the smell of his newly acquired outfit knock her out? (I doubt it... remember, it’s her outfit to begin with.) Has Nick found a new villainous device in the plunger? Will a real hero every come to the door? If Nick finally does plug her in, will Janee be able to pay the next electric bill?

Find out tomorrow when we present part 6 in the conclusion of this Electrifying Tale from the small town with big drama, Withering Flats.

Written by Michael Steven Platt 5-15-09