Frank Bacon Made Me Do It - The Resurrection

in #fiction6 years ago

Frank Bacon Made Me Do It - The Resurrection

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SOME UNKNOWN ROAD

As the pills wear off, I am yet again crammed in the back of another trunk, I feel the vehicle pull off to the side of the road as it stops. The sound of two doors open from each side of the car and footsteps come near. The trunk flies open, light hits my eyes blinding me, I put my hand up to block the light. The figure comes closer and it's the face of money.

Hamilton leans in, “Get the fuck out of there or I'll toss you off a bridge you piece of shit.”

I start to pull myself up as... BLAM!

The sound of Frank's voice yells out, “Trader!” as the shotgun fires.

Hamilton's head explodes, my face covered in red currency. Blood and brain matter splattered on and around me. I fish my fingers through my eye trying to pull a small bone fragment from it.

“What the fuck Frank!?” I yell out, “Why blow Hamilton's head off?” Frank pulls me out of the car trunk. I shiver, “Burr it's cold.” Frank leans into me really close, “You call me Frank! You got it? No one's going to find this fucking head in a pickle jar, I'll tell you that. Now get in the car, I have a towel in the front seat. We have to motor.”

Sitting in the front seat wiping my face down, I hear Frank stuffing what's left of Hamilton in his trunk. I pull the visor down to look at my eye in the mirror. Frank walks up and jumps into the drivers side seat. “Where are we going?” I ask. He tosses me some black sunglasses and tells me, “We're getting the band back together, we're on a mission from God,” I spit a piece of brain matter from my mouth into my hand as Frank floors the accelerator.

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THE LIBRARY

The doors fly open as we enter the building Frank calls “The Library.” We walk in and Frank tells me to wash up in a near by bathroom, “Don't fucking touch anything, just wash up and find something to wear, I'll be in the main study looking through the pickle jars. I walk into the washroom and find a Frank pill laying at the bottom of my pocket, I fish it out and pop it in my mouth, “Thank God.”

After finding a clean blue jumpsuit I walk around the place. Its an old building, the lamps on the tables give off a nice and warm pleasant glow, mahogany tables and matching chairs, tall bookshelves filled with old books. I find one of walls of books moved out, leading into a secret chamber of books and a very original bookshelf filled with what looks like human heads crammed into pickle jars. “What the fuck?”

“Shhhh” Frank says, “We are looking for something” as he starts calling off names to himself, “Lee no, Defango no, Asshole no, Webb no, Lestat no, Kappy no, QM no... Oh yes... Seaman yes. Frank grabs the pickle jar labeled N8. “This is what we need to get a Snapple and Cameraman.” Frank hands me the head in a jar and tells me it's time to crack the head open and get the goods, “It's not the head we need, it's the content in the head we need, this is the EYE.”

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THE LAB

Walking into Franks lab we see an extremely large room with glass ceilings and a very Gothic looking atmosphere, the full moon acts as a natural chandelier illuminating the entire place. On the wall is a large pyramid with an eye in the center of it looking down on us.

Frank wearing a white lab coat excited, showing me his hidden temple, “Are you ready for some REAL MAGIC? This is where it all begins.”

We see what looks like two extremely large tuning forks with huge copper coils spun through mounting pins with a circus of wires falling to its side leading to a large panel of switches. The switches, in turn, are connected to a series of LSG super-capacitors stacked on top of one another, each capable of discharging at 20 watts per cm3.

We cut to:
Frank pulling up a metal cage onto the alter in the center of the room between the two forks, pulls the sheet off to expose a mechanical sheep inside. Frank unclasps the base of the cage, and flips a lever to pull the cage straight up and off the sheep. He jumps up on top of the alter pulls opens the latch of the head of the sheep and places the brain inside.

With an intense look Frank says to me, “Are you ready for this? Soon everything will make sense."

The room lights up as Frank starts pulling switches and moving dials frantically like a madman. The electricity leaps upward and grasps onto the ewe. Frank continues throwing switches.

It was a galvanic opera orchestrated by Frank dancing in the center of it all laughing hysterically while wielding his baton, “Are you seeing this!? Are you fucking seeing this!?”

My eyes grow wide as the mechanical sheep convulses with motion. They watch, stunned, as Frank puts the ewe through different stages; legs kick, feet jerk, body flexes, mouth opens and closes, lungs breathe... and then... collapse.

Frank screams out over the loud noise of the machine operating, “We need MORE POWER!”

Frank pulls another switch - A LIGHTNING BOLT FLASHES ACROSS THE ROOM

to be continued...

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@frankbacon @allseeingewe @hammyquinn @kerrywolf @allhearingru @intuitivejakob @vaporbatrecords @thian2817 @lennythyme @pranto @zay-arasi @steemrobot @azizulhassan @sanoza @fqdd7l32brrw

Darren

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trad·er

/ˈtrādər/
Learn to pronounce
noun
a person who buys and sells goods, currency, or stocks.
synonyms: dealer, merchant, buyer, seller, salesman, saleswoman, buyer and seller, marketeer, merchandiser, broker, agent; More
a merchant ship.

trai·tor

/ˈtrādər/
Learn to pronounce
noun
noun: traitor; plural noun: traitors
a person who betrays a friend, country, principle, etc.
"they see me as a traitor, a sellout to the enemy"
synonyms: betrayer, back-stabber, double-crosser, double-dealer, renegade, Judas, quisling, fifth columnist, viper; More
antonyms: loyalist, patriot

You may very well be the only one who caught this.

half a million in cash... and a boat. ~BFB

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