Damn the Man

[maddy_ricks]

At twenty-four years old, Madeleine Ricks was trapped in the body of a fifteen year old. Or so it appeared to the rest of the world. At 5’5”, she was of average height, but thin as a rail with limited curvature. The results were infuriating. Carded for alcohol, carded for smokes, and the latest insult, carded for Gore Fest at the Huntridge Theater. Only this time, she had stuffed cash in the pocket of her overalls and left her ID card at home.

The employee – who had barely scratched eighteen himself – suggested she bring her mother to sign a release form.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” she screeched. She slapped her palms on the plexi-glass that separated the ticket salesman from the throng of fans splattered in fake blood outside. Making a scene wouldn’t get her anywhere. On a cognitive level, Maddy understood it. But she had a hell of a temper. She grabbed the paper and rolled it up lengthwise. “Do me a favor, okay? Heh… you take this release form and you gently guide it up your pimple-covered ass!”

She left the window and paced in front of the building, chewing a hangnail.

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[devin_capshaw]

Devin laughed, nodding. "It's a plan, then." He scanned the side of the building. "Okay, um..." He considered a hasty plan. "I'll whistle twice when I've found the right place."

He approached the ticket booth, making his purchase. He turned and nodded at her before entering the double doors.

Once inside the lobby, he bypassed the concession stand. "Emergency exit only, alarm will sound," Devin read under his breath. After a moment of searching, he found something promising, a black door leading to the garbage bins.

He cracked it open, peeking his head out. He gave two high pitched whistles. Dorky, but effective. The writer had a plethora of experience.

[maddy_ricks]

Maddy took up her post at the rear of the theater. It wasn’t the most scenic place, in that it smelled like old butter and small pieces of trash skittered around her shoes, but she was willing to wait a while if it meant admission. When a door opened on two whistles, she dropped her cigarette and smudged it out. “Oooohh!” Maddy kicked up her feet in a spastic dance and squeezed past the crack in the door. “Man, you are my hero.” She slapped a sloppy kiss on his cheek and shimmied by.

“You want some popcorn? I’m starved.”

[devin_capshaw]

"Oh, okay," he said mildly as she kissed him. He followed her inside, and they joined the throng of people chattering and getting snacks. "Popcorn would be great. You know, I think the artificial butter is essential."

Devin nabbed a spot in line, retrieving his wallet from his jeans pocket. "So, you like Catholic School Cannibals. I heard it's pretty decent."

He grabbed a pack of Twizzlers from the stand and gestured to her with it. "Now, here's the question. The bloodier, the better?"

[maddy_ricks]

“Absolutely,” she said. “Did you know that the human body holds an average of six to seven pints of blood? That’s like… nothing.” She shuffled forward as the line shortened and pulled a wad of one dollar bills from her pants pocket, the earnings from her latest stunt on a city sidewalk. For a girl who talked too much, she made a terrific mime.

“I know what you’re thinking. Stripper, right?” The smile on her face made it clear that she was kidding.

“Where do you come down on the blood thing?”

[devin_capshaw]

He opened the package and began eating a Twizzler. Hell, he was going to pay for them in a few minutes, why not? "I mean, sure. I assume every girl in Vegas is either a stripper or cocktail waitress."

Devin offered her the package. "Well, it depends. Movies like these, half the fun is in how bad they are. Blood, guts, the whole nine."

"Buuut...then there are the classics, like Jaws, where the movie sets you up on the big monster first. I do enjoy that."

[maddy_ricks]

“So suspense horror,” she said, nodding. “The best. Willard. Alien. I mean, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre doesn’t even have much blood, just a lot of noise and squirming. I mean… the part where that chick’s trying to get off the meat hook? I felt that in my toes.”

She stole a Twizzler and let it hang out of her mouth. At the front of the line, she counted cash onto the counter and asked for a large popcorn with extra butter and a Dr. Pepper.

“Ever use this as a straw?” she asked him.

[devin_capshaw]

"Exactly," he said, his tone appreciative.

Devin was next, and he ordered his own popcorn and a vat of Coke. "Of course. When you're finished drinking, the Twizzler tastes all bubbly. That's the best."

His purchases in hand, he led the way to the inner theater. The lights were at an ambient level still, enough to guide his way to a row of four empty seats. The chintzy red fabric rubbed against his arms.

"Let the beheadings begin."

[maddy_ricks]

“You’re thinking beheading?” she asked, settling into her seat. The fabric was cool and faintly sticky from years of use. Overhead there was a balcony that had been roped off because it was deemed structurally unsound by inspectors. Every year, there was a fundraiser to pay for renovations, but it hadn’t panned out yet. The crowd who spent the most time at the Huntridge couldn’t afford to donate, which was okay to Madeleine’s thinking, because the last thing she wanted was for her favorite theater to be gentrified by a bunch of yuppie investors.

“I’m calling castration. We can try to guess what they’re using as testicle debris. I think grape jelly.” She sipped at her soda. “I always wanted to work in a props department. You could experiment with what looks most like entrails.”

[devin_capshaw]

"Can you imagine," he said, staring straight ahead at the sheer wonder of it, "being head of props on the set of the Shining?"

Devin looked at her.

"Redrum."

[maddy_ricks]

Maddy’s hands shot up. A few kernels of popcorn flew out of the bucket. “Stop, stop! Oh my god! Kids, man, kids, I hate kids! That little weirdo was scarier than Jack Nicholson.”

She shuddered.

"I wanted the evil bushes to get him, but they wrote the bushes out of the movie."

[devin_capshaw]

He scooped a handful of his own popcorn. "You mean you don't want a Jack Nicholson popsicle? Kill-joy." Devin looked around the theater. The audience was a ragtag mix of couples and college-looking kids.

"Okay, if we're going to be Gore Fest buddies, my name is Devin."

He studied her seriously for a moment. "You look like a...Joan."

[maddy_ricks]

“For real?”

She squinted in the dark theater. She didn't feel like a Joan, but as long as she was channeling Joan Jett and not Joan Collins, she could live with it.

“It’s Maddy. D’s, not T’s.”

She stuck her hand over the arm rest for a shake. A bit belated, she knew, since she had already molested his cheek, but hey. Better late than never.

[devin_capshaw]

He wiped his popcorn oily hand on his jeans -- they were about cashed, anyway -- and shook her hand.

"I took a stab in the dark," Devin said, grinning. "Get it? A stab in the...yeah." He leaned back against the chair, and there was already a foot solidly planted in the back of it.

He leaned forward again. "I can safely say I've never met a Maddy before."