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Issue No. 16 - Chaos

Cheeky Shag: Chronicles of the Road II

Cheeky Shag: Chronicles of the Road II

©Celeste Giuliano 

©Celeste Giuliano 

By Michael Kaczmarczyk

Candice Candy Corn clung to a telephone poll outside of the strip club. When seeing a beautiful red head with a southern accent and a heart of gold, clinging to a telephone pole outside a strip club at midnight, one might have more suggestive thoughts, but the fact of the matter was things were changing. Not only for Candice, who had just been stood up by a gentleman that had promised to take her out after work, but for the entire planet Earth.

Something was coming.

Stories were popping up from all around The United States. A man from Texas was rumored to have been abducted. The weather seemed to be constantly changing; the skies seemed to be acting more violently by forcing heavy winds upon the innocent below. The media seemed to be avoiding something. The News Men and Women of America seemed to be sweating more on air. Accusations were beginning to be thrown around. Some blamed the government; others blamed secret, cult-like organizations. A select few, including Candice Candy Corn, suspected Diamond Family Mattresses.

Candice had just returned from a trip to her home in L.A to visit her father who was ironically both un-employed and a private investigator.

Candice hated California and idolized the south, which is why she adopted the southern aesthetic into her stage persona.

Her father had been out of work and ambition for some time… until Shirley Diamond entered his office.

At the time, Candice didn’t think of this as anything more than an odd occurrence. However, when odd occurrences seem to amplify in frequency, those who are so inclined seem to have a good habit of tracing these occurrences back to their root.

Candice was, after all, raised by a private investigator.

The wind picked up and Candice howled. Her body was now parallel to the ground, and though she had a good grip from…well…all the happy endings…she found herself grasping for life.

Abandoning her faux southern accent, the poor stripper howled, “FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH. YOU WON’T TAKE ME ALIVE!!!”

The wind seemed to chuckle at that, and howled all the harder.

Candice’s fingers began to slip, and she let out a blistering cry, that seemed to land somewhere between a soldier rallying his troops and an orgasm.

 

At this, the sky engulfed itself in a bright blue light. And then in a moment, everything was still.

 

Candice Candy Corn fell to the ground in an exhausted heap. She wasn’t sure if she should be more upset about the paranormal experience that had just transpired, or the fact that some asshole who knew one corny pick up line had the balls to stand her up.

 

She felt as though she was part of something greater; that the forces of the universe were fighting over her, or at least trying to direct the scene with great intensity.

 

The stripper was intuitive, no one could deny that, but nothing could have possibly prepared her, or the world, for what was about to happen…

REVIEW: Sara VanDerBeek Monograph

REVIEW: Sara VanDerBeek Monograph

3, 2, 1...Arles!

3, 2, 1...Arles!