Party Crashing Under Toxic Pressure

Ron Tucker stands before the mirror, glittery tan face-paint upon his pocked and cratered cheeks. Silver contacts give off a distinct sheen that matches a shaggy, silver wig adorns his head. Grins large to examine his perfect, pearly teeth. He looks at the pointed ears protruding on either side his head with keen assertiveness to detail. The disguise has to look just right.

From beside, a zombie with a hatchet buried five-inches deep into its blood skull, grapples the teen.

Ron smacks the zombie across the face.

It lashes back, stunned. The zombie slips off its face to reveal another teen, his lip busted. “Geez, it's only a joke. Didn’t have to take it to the extreme.” He looks at the fresh blood on his fingers, “Wait ‘til I tell mom. I hope she has your toxic hide!” Jerry Tucker runs off and bumps into a plump fairy godmother. “Ma! Ron-”

“Enough of the fighting.” His mother strolls into the room. “We went through enough hoops getting your brother released.”

“But does he really have to come with me?”

“Yes, Jerry Reed Tucker, he does.”

“That blows a donkey’s dick!”

“Hey,” his mother shoots him a stern look. “Watch your language in this house.” She approaches Ron, “It was suggested by Dr. Marconis to find social activities that promote inclusion for Ron so that, hopefully one day when society does accept him for who he is, he will be a well-rounded and fully-functional citizen.”

“Ron a citizen. Hah! Might as well call him Toxie and throw a mop at him!”

“Toxie?” She looks back at Jerry.

“The Toxic Avenger… Lloyd Kaufman… Came out just last summer.” She looks at Jerry blankly. “Aw forget it, maw. No use beating’ around the bush. I wish you’d cut this crap about Ron being your son and accept him for the sludge entity he truly is.”

“Jerry, watch your tone! You’ll upset Toxie-I mean Ron!” Jerry brays out a piercing laugh. Ron stares at his brother, breathing deep and careful breaths. “Ron cannot help who he is. You have to wisen up and accept him as family.”

“Why should I? I wasn’t the one who found him at that toxic waste site and took him in as my own to fill the void left behind by Rodney.”

“Don’t listen to him, Ron.” She turns the accusatory table Jerry’s direction. “Really, Jerry. First it was aliens were his parents, then he were the product of a scientific fertility experiment gone wrong… In all honesty, it’s getting pretty stale… You're running out of ideas and the shock is losing steam.” The mother says in one final command, “You stop this sibling rivalry right this instant! You know how Ron acts when he gets too excitable.”

Jerry says, “I don’t know why he has to tag along to the biggest party to ever happen in this town. This is the party where I might actually get to second base with Melonie.”

“If it wasn’t for my strong commitment for Ron to be accepted, I would ground you until next Halloween with that mouth of yours.”

“What the hell ever! I’m waiting downstairs until Mr. Fairy-Boy is ready!” He slips on the mask and runs downstairs.

“I’m an Elven Pwince!” Ron shouts in a garbled, muffled voice.

His mother pats him on the shoulder in a great affectionate embrace. “Of course you are, by Ron, of course you are…” The boy begins to whimper, eyes tearing. “There there, you wouldn’t want to smear the makeup.”

“Wike anywon would nowice…” Jerry looks at his reflection, “Onwy night out a da yeawa peopew can be somewon besides themsewves. Ghouws and gobwins... I’d fit wight in.”


***

Jerry storms halfway up to the house from which music is blaring and swings back to face Ron. “Now look here, puss-bucket, don’t go causing a scene here. First little fuck-up and I’m shipping your ass to the dumpsite, first-class.”

“Hey Jerry!” A girl shouts through the opened front door of the house. “Come in! You're missing a killer party!”

“Just follow my lead, booger-lips.” Jerry speaks between clenched teeth. “Melody! I come prepared! Wanna party?” He takes out a bag of pot.

“You know I’m always ready for a good time!” She lets them into a house filled to the brim with a mix of seniors and some college kids. Teens left and right are getting sloshed with the sounds of metal blaring from speakers. A few steps in, she whispers something into Jerry’s ear, looking him up and down.

“Yo, Ron. Sorry to be bustin’ your balls, but I gotta split. Enjoy the party!” Melody tugs Jerry to one of the back rooms before he could let out another word.

Ron is left a literal fish outta water, amidst a school of sharks. Everyone is wearing costumes; most of their faces indistinguishable faces hidden behind images from his worst nightmares. Heat rising up within him.

A girl dressed like a pink fairy runs up to him. “Woah! I dig the look! Fairy Boy meets Pixie Girl. A perfect match, huh?”

“I’m a Ewven Pwince.”

She couldn’t hear him over the ruckus. “Kickin’.” Something seems a bit off about her. She seems dazed, almost dizzied, but likewise very alert and full of energy. “Know any fairy-tales, Fairy Boy?”

Ron head shakes quickly left and right.

“Me neither... “ She confesses, almost blushing. “Well… I do know of one… Involves a Fairy Boy and Pixie Girl in this great hollow. Want me to tell you about it?”

“I gwess…” He gets uncomfortable at how much attention she has on him. She keeps examining him with this glow about her… Was something showing? “Tew me.”

“Well, I can’t out here.” She says, again blushing and comes back quick, holding both arms behind her in mock innocence. “It’s something I have to show you. Sure you’re interested?” Ron looks at the purple haired girl and nods. Her pink lips spread into a beaming smile. She grabs his hand, he pulls back, but she insists. “Follow me… I won’t hurt you. Much.”

She leads him down a hall and into an open bedroom. The pink, frilly room looks to be designed for a princess. She doesn’t care whose room it is, just about unmasking the charming fairy-boy.

In silence, she sets him on the bed, pushes him slowly onto his back. Ron breathes quickly, in-and-out, trying to contain himself. She rests on top of him, planting both hands on his chest. She unbuttons his laced, white shirt and plants her lips upon his chest. Something’s not right. It feels grainy and hard, like the surface of a rock, yet slimy as well. With both hands she pries open his shirt. A mass of green flesh is exposed, surmounted by huge boils and fungus.

She repels in a scream of terror.

The heat is too much. Ron grits his teeth as one-by-one, the boils pop like ammo from an uzi: pat-pat-pat-pat-pat.

Geysers of puss erupt from boils amassing his body. He cannot stop sweating. With both hands, he smears the makeup off his face, revealing a deformed face of even more boils. In complete embarrassment, Ron yanks the false teeth out of his mouth to reveal jagged razors that might have been teeth some time long ago. His contacts slip out to reveal two pure yellow eyes. He pulls off his wig to reveal a lumpy dome where few long strands of grey hair sprout.

Anger surmounts him. He needs to leave.

In a rage, Ron shoves the door off its hinge. And scrambles to the crowd; half are in complete terror of seeing a deformed beast rampaging across the room, the other half are in awe by the convincing costume.

One-by-one, Ron pushes the throng aside. Some slam into waves of other partiers, while few crash into furniture.

A jockey who feels the need to play hero storms up to Ron. “Hey, asshole! Way to crash a party!”

Ron shoots him a look to kill, holds the jockey by his neck and rips his left arm clean out of socket. Blood sprays on the others who watch in disgust.

Jerry runs into to see what all the commotion is about, zipping up his fly in transit, to be treated to a scene of Ron throwing the dismembered jock into the crowd. Everyone panics and tramples each other.

Ron is punching in people’s faces and chests, slaughtering anyone blocking his way from escape. Yearning freedom, Ron charges through the sliding door that shatters on impact, vanishing into the dense woods behind the house.

***

Cops arrive only when it’s too late. The only remaining survivors of the crime scene is Melody, a scared girl just barely made eighteen, and Jerry, a teen who will do all can to deny knowledge of his brother ever having been at the party.


Amidst the wreckage lay eight bodies of teens who were at the wrong place, at the wrong time.