Midnight Movie: A Novel by Tobe Hooper Alan Goldsher Page B
Authors: Tobe Hooper Alan Goldsher
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out of her goddamn head. I knelt down and said, “Honey, stand up.”
She grabbed me by the back of my neck and gave me a kiss. A bolt shot from my stomach, to the top of my spine, right down to the tip of my dick. I was about to tear her clothes off when she pulled away from me and went back to work on her hair. The bolt went away, but my dick stayed hard. I adjusted my shirt to cover the evidence, stood up, and asked the bartender for another beer. He picked up a shot glass, turned around, and pitched it against the back mirror, shattering the entire thing into a collection of glass knives, then he said, “What the fuck did you say, old man?”
I looked around to see if anybody was going to come and settle the dude down. Nothing. They were staring at the screen, transfixed by my piece-of-shit movie. I turned back to the bartender and said, “What do you think of the flick?” I don’t know if he knew who I was. I hoped he didn’t, so I could get an honest answer.
He picked up a beer mug and threw it on the floor as hard as he could, then yelled,
“It’s fucking awesome, maaaaaaan! Fucking awwwwwwwesome!
”
Nobody even blinked. A small part of me wanted to knock over the projector, stand up in front of the room, and ask, “What the fuck is wrong with you people!” Another small part of me wanted to get the hell out of Austin and never come back. But most of me was paralyzed, so I just stood there.
http://andidaltrey.blogspot.com
Andi-Licious
The Useless Musings of Sophomoric Sophomore Andrea Daltrey
THE DATE: TODAY
THE TIME: MY TIME
I had the weirdest dream about the cock.
The cock. The cock. The cock. Let us examine the cock and what it can do.
One thing it can do is be sucked and spit into a lucky girl’s mouth. It sometimes tastes like a lollipop, but other times, it tastes like a sweat sock.
It can get hard, and it can get soft, then, after a while, it can get hard again.
It can be fun, and it can be scary, and it can be a weapon.
Also, it can be a divining rod to the heart. At least that’s what I’m told.
JANINE DALTREY:
Erick and I tried to go into the club, but one of the horror nerds was standing in front of the door, and he wouldn’t budge. After I asked him politely to move, he put his hand in between my boobs and pushed. Hard. If Erick hadn’t been standing directly behind me, I’d have fallen ass-first onto the concrete.
He caught me and said, “Are you okay?” Legitimate concern.
I said, “I’m fine.”
He said, “Good.” Then he stepped around me and threw the flat of his palm at the guy’s nose. I took that self-defense class, and I was well aware that if done right, that move could actually force a bone chip toward your attacker’s brain. Erick was an underfed indie rocker, and I didn’t think he had enough strength in him to break anything other than his own hand.
It didn’t matter. The guy caught Erick’s hand well before it made contact, then he twisted his arm behind his back and yelled right into his ear, “You got a problem,
motherfucker
? You want to go? You want to
bring it
? You think you can handle
this
? Go ahead,
bitch
. I’d
love
it.”
Just then, Dude McGee practically fell out of the door, and, just like that, the guy let Erick go … but not before giving him a backhand across the cheek. It looked less painful than humiliating. The guy shoved Dude against the door and roared, then head-butted the wall and walked into the club.
Dude kind of laughed and told Erick, “You know, this is one of those flicks that works better on the big screen. Maybe before it gets released wide, Mr. Toeb Hoopster can do it up in 3-D.”
TOBE HOOPER:
Finally, finally, finally that abortion ended, and thank God. I wanted to be gone. People were breathing heavily, and the placewas a veritable bad breath factory. And that weird vibe was still here, there, and every-fucking-where.
It was the kind of vibe that you feel when you walk into an
She grabbed me by the back of my neck and gave me a kiss. A bolt shot from my stomach, to the top of my spine, right down to the tip of my dick. I was about to tear her clothes off when she pulled away from me and went back to work on her hair. The bolt went away, but my dick stayed hard. I adjusted my shirt to cover the evidence, stood up, and asked the bartender for another beer. He picked up a shot glass, turned around, and pitched it against the back mirror, shattering the entire thing into a collection of glass knives, then he said, “What the fuck did you say, old man?”
I looked around to see if anybody was going to come and settle the dude down. Nothing. They were staring at the screen, transfixed by my piece-of-shit movie. I turned back to the bartender and said, “What do you think of the flick?” I don’t know if he knew who I was. I hoped he didn’t, so I could get an honest answer.
He picked up a beer mug and threw it on the floor as hard as he could, then yelled,
“It’s fucking awesome, maaaaaaan! Fucking awwwwwwwesome!
”
Nobody even blinked. A small part of me wanted to knock over the projector, stand up in front of the room, and ask, “What the fuck is wrong with you people!” Another small part of me wanted to get the hell out of Austin and never come back. But most of me was paralyzed, so I just stood there.
http://andidaltrey.blogspot.com
Andi-Licious
The Useless Musings of Sophomoric Sophomore Andrea Daltrey
THE DATE: TODAY
THE TIME: MY TIME
I had the weirdest dream about the cock.
The cock. The cock. The cock. Let us examine the cock and what it can do.
One thing it can do is be sucked and spit into a lucky girl’s mouth. It sometimes tastes like a lollipop, but other times, it tastes like a sweat sock.
It can get hard, and it can get soft, then, after a while, it can get hard again.
It can be fun, and it can be scary, and it can be a weapon.
Also, it can be a divining rod to the heart. At least that’s what I’m told.
JANINE DALTREY:
Erick and I tried to go into the club, but one of the horror nerds was standing in front of the door, and he wouldn’t budge. After I asked him politely to move, he put his hand in between my boobs and pushed. Hard. If Erick hadn’t been standing directly behind me, I’d have fallen ass-first onto the concrete.
He caught me and said, “Are you okay?” Legitimate concern.
I said, “I’m fine.”
He said, “Good.” Then he stepped around me and threw the flat of his palm at the guy’s nose. I took that self-defense class, and I was well aware that if done right, that move could actually force a bone chip toward your attacker’s brain. Erick was an underfed indie rocker, and I didn’t think he had enough strength in him to break anything other than his own hand.
It didn’t matter. The guy caught Erick’s hand well before it made contact, then he twisted his arm behind his back and yelled right into his ear, “You got a problem,
motherfucker
? You want to go? You want to
bring it
? You think you can handle
this
? Go ahead,
bitch
. I’d
love
it.”
Just then, Dude McGee practically fell out of the door, and, just like that, the guy let Erick go … but not before giving him a backhand across the cheek. It looked less painful than humiliating. The guy shoved Dude against the door and roared, then head-butted the wall and walked into the club.
Dude kind of laughed and told Erick, “You know, this is one of those flicks that works better on the big screen. Maybe before it gets released wide, Mr. Toeb Hoopster can do it up in 3-D.”
TOBE HOOPER:
Finally, finally, finally that abortion ended, and thank God. I wanted to be gone. People were breathing heavily, and the placewas a veritable bad breath factory. And that weird vibe was still here, there, and every-fucking-where.
It was the kind of vibe that you feel when you walk into an
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