Schicter the Magnificent and the Pub Crawl from Hell

By: Carl Schicter

"What's a fine looking guy like you doing here?"

She asked me; she being a 60 year old corpse with only one leg and eyes hanging lower than what I assumed to be her breasts. That was to be the highlight of the evening.. Yes that's right, the focal climax of the entire evening. Exciting huh?

Now, let me say I've done a lot of stupid things in my life time. I once told a nun she resembled Larry King, not to mention the time I tried to dry my kitten in the microwave before I realized that the red on the microwave door was more than wet dirt. I even offered to help Price with his wiz bang party and god forgive me, I borrowed a few videos from blockbuster. But going to this 'incorporeal bar' is the stupidest thing I have ever done.

I've been stuck in the after life for a good two years now. I am one of the only beings in 'house on haunted hill' that spirits can talk to without getting preternaturally ripped apart, and since it takes a tremendous lot of sticky tape to stick ones self together Trust me, my face looks like a child's attempt at making a cotton ball snowman Vannacutt decided to make me an honorary interpreter.

So, there I was, as Vannacutt's personal… well whatever he wanted to call me, waiting for the good old doctor himself to get out of the bathroom. You know for someone who had his innards extracted that little guy sure can pee.

Meanwhile I treated Pritchett another free being, but by no means sane to a violentini. Then another, and another. By the time Vannacutt decided to show up Pritchett was on his fifth round singing 'my heart will go on' to a terrified young Chinese couple, dynamite strapped conspicuously around their waistlines. I bet they'll be regretting the day they decided to die for a cause. Him aside, the rest of us (those of us who died at Evelyn's birthday bash) took a seat around some table in a corner shellacked with a red tar.

Vannacutt, dressed in his exaggeratedly flash gold tux, looked at me. I glanced at Melissa and Evelyn in matching erm… nakedness. Evelyn glared at Price and Blackburn who I might say wanted nothing to do with each other and Blackburn's left eyebrow was oogling my good friend Hank, who was dressed in a black silk satin dress that really matched his dark thick arm hair.

"So shall we get ourselves something to eat" Vannacutt suggested.

The vote was unanimous and so Vannacutt called the waiter up while Vannacutt retrieved some money for a tip within Melissa's chest cavity. Yes we all knew that space would come in handy one of these days.

The young waitress took the orders, plus tip and walked off. An hour later we finally got our meal. Talk about table manners, I was the ONLY person there who ate with any kind of eating tool. If you've ever seen a close friend or family member mauled by a bear then you'll know exactly how it looks like.

"Well? No need to pander to my presence" Vannacutt spat out as he finished his ribs. "I would like to talk with Mr Schicter"

"Yes sir" four equally quiet voice whispered as they made themselves scarce.

"So how is everything Carl" The doctor asked.

I smirked. "Well let's take a moment to recap, shall we. Someone, not mentioning any names 'Richard' curved out my face , then sentenced me to an eternity with an abundance of hot women, all of whom would rather have sex with a certain dead man stuck on an equally dead horse than myself… peachy.. Just peachy"

After a brief silence he changed tactics and we began talking about Melissa, before ending up conversing about Vannacutt and his most unfortunate arrest during his early years. As he put it 'I was arrested for mooning.' But if you ask me, what the police didn't know, was that he really was an ass.

Nothing else interesting popped out of his mouth after that, but we did get some onlookers, like the ghost of Christmas past, a Walter Disney look a-like, and Lassie who wanted an autograph from Vannacutt.

Just as Richard and I were about to order a drink, from the adjoining games room came a loud crash. Running to see for myself what had happened I found Steven out cold, compliments of Blackburn who off course blamed it on his eyebrows various mental ailments.

"No Sue Ellen, don't marry him, he loves Dominic, he's gay!"
I looked at Price, seemingly hallucinating

"Another home made torture." Melissa commented

"What throwing each other into bits of furniture?" I asked.

"No," She shook her head "Day time soaps"

'Poor Bugger' I thought to myself.

Hearing the commotion Evelyn rejoined the group, placing a heel to her husband's crotch, squeezing his poor privates. It woke him up pretty fast.


Melissa sighed "Well you were unconscious you know"

Evelyn shook her head "No…. I just wanted to prove my point… Dominic loves Sue Ellen, always and forever… so BACK of."

Just when the night couldn't get any more tiresome, Evelyn poured scalding hot water all over some girl who tried to help Price stand up, and a fight ensued. To put it simply, we are now banned from the bar for the rest of our lives, or in our case, our deaths. That's right, the first and maybe only bar where us ghosts can actually go to get drunk and / or laid, we are banned from, because Evelyn had a hissy fit.

The ride home was long and tiring. Melissa, who was almost as drunk as Pritchett was making toe prints on the window whilst whining bad enough to give my three year old niece a run for her money.
"I need to go to the toilet, now…" Pritchett chimed in. In frustration I gave in, rolling my eyes as I stopped the car to let him get out. It wasn't like the broad back at the car was going to follow us. Not after Evelyn shoved a hand full of sugar and Melissa's liver down the woman's gas tank.

Five moments after Pritchett wondered off into the bushes, an old lady let out a large screech. Upon investigating I found Pritchett 'watering the flowers' in front of two old ladies using a whole loaf of bread to feed the ducks.

"Ahhhhh you perverted man" the old lady squealed. I took Pritchett away disgusted. Since when do old ladies feed ducks this late at night... God almighty what's wrong with this world today!

With that in mind I made the rest of the journey in record time. You would've thought that because we're all dead we wouldn't have to arrange transport to a transdimensional bar for the deceased but it just so happens that you're wrong.

Anyway, as soon as we set foot in our home sweet institute, Vannacutt offered to read us Lord of the Rings. Unfortunately the 'oh so powerful' god voice of this story, told Vannacutt, that while he was indeed evil and very powerful, he was by comparison a sissy four year old girl, to J R Tolken's copyright lawyers.

So the moral my fair mortals is...not applicable at thistime.But if you do happen to find one, send it to 1601 Memorial Lne LA California 90310 U S of A. I answer all my fanmail personally, but in no circumstances will I get Vannacutt to autograph anything. He's a busy manand can get very grouchy when he hasn't had his afternoon naps. Goodnight and godbless!



Disclaimer: I Caligo hereby proclaim that all intellectual property, both character and situation wise belongto Warner brothers, Dark Castle and other respective owners. In no way do I gain money or other benefits other than self satisfaction.I therefore request that I not be sued, as my funds arejust about non excistant. I also must credit Amber for proof reading and Daiz, the young padawan, for inspiring me.