I Don’t Know Her _S*

originally written by Douglas Norman H.[ as published in the New York Times] used 
               by permission 1999(c)
“I’m using your Cowboy!” Stradleather yelled from the bathroom to his room mate. Holden was annoyed. Stradleather was always using his stuff without asking; or, in this case, using and THEN asking.
“Whatever!” Holden yelled back, and then “ya jerk!”
“What was that, Hold?”
“I said, ‘whatever works!'”
Stradleather came into the living room and turned on the t.v. Of course he WOULD turn on the t.v. while Holden was reading.
“Do ya mind?” Holden said, holding up The Catcher in the Rye, the book he was currently immersed in.
“Oh, go to the library whydontcha, huh?”
Holden fumed, but decided not to show his anger; rather he asked his roommate, “So who are you going out with?”Six Months Ago……………………………………………….Melissa was tired. It had taken her nearly twelve hours to dismember the body of Peter Graves. Holden, her roommate and ex-boyfriend, would be home in about two hours.
“Dinner will have to wait.” she said to herself.
Melissa McCarthy began the familiar ritual of butchering the body.
After a dozen victims (DINNERS, as Melissa thought of them) she had become quite fast at preparing the meat; but as the latest body had taken almost an hour longer than she had planned, she had to work fast.
By the time everything was finished, she had just enough time to cook and eat part of Peter’s brain.
By the time Holden returned to the apartment, Melissa had the place spotless.
“Hey, Liss, you’re home early. I take it your date with my friend Peter didn’t go very well?”
“It went fine.”
“How was he?” Holden asked.
“Yummy.” Melissa said, smiling to herself.
“I went to meat market, too, why don’t you get us something out of the downstairs freezer and I’ll bar b que it out on the patio.”
Holden ate until he was stuffed.
Putting his dish in the sink he said, “I’ll take out the garbage.”
“No, don’t you worry yourself about it.” Melissa said from living room. In her hurry to get rid of the evidence she had to throw away Peter’s bloody clothes in their dumpster and was planning on moving them once Holden left the apartment.
“It’s the least I can do.” Holden said picking up the trash can.
While dumping the trash in the dumpster- which was unusually full for this time of the week- Holden had to press down to make it fit. He felt something wet on his hands. “Yuck!” he said, taking the garbage can and going to the stairs. When he got into the light he saw that the liquid on his hands was red. Real red. “Blood red?”
He went back to the dumpster and looked in. He found some bags with blood drenched clothes. Upon further investigation he found a wallet and looked inside where he found the driver’s license of Peter Graves.
Holden got into his car and drove away, never to return to his apartment again.


“Her name’s Melissa.” Stradleather said, spraying some more of Holden’s nintey dollar cologne on his shirt without a care.
“Melissa what?” Holden asked.
“Melissa McCarthy.” Stradleather said. “Why, ya know her.”
‘Sweet mother of Samson!’ he thought.
“Know her?” Holden replied. “No, I don’t know her.”



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