The Universe's Mixer

i_liveforgodr
T.C. and Jody had split up long ago, figuring they could cover more city that way. And Jody had been right in saying so, of course. But when T.C. was alone, he tended to get into more trouble. He stopped often to do things to people/animals/inanimate objects that nobody wanted to know about. And he had fun with it too.

Sure, he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He feared Miss L'Angelle's wrath. He knew she could hurt him. Not to mention Jody. Jody could do a lot of harm, if he really wanted to. Hell, even when he was half-assing it, he could hurt somebody.

T.C. was back to exploring after having sodimized a poodle, and that's how he came upon the big freaky looking hotel. He hadn't ever seen it before, and he didn't know why. It was huge. How could he miss a place like this? Especially because it looked like a place Little Jesse might go to hide out. Take that little bitch of his and hole up.

He walked into the lobby and rang the bell several times, impatient for help.

Ding

Ding ding ding

dingdingdingdingding

"C'mon, y'all! I need some fuckin help out here."


i_shower

Norman had been up at the house when the service bell rang down at the motel. He heard it eventually, peeking his head out the second floor window where Mother usually sat, to call down a "Just a minute!" to the potential customer. It was later in the evening but the weather was calm. A few clouds rolled over the sky, blocking out the moon now and again, but it didn't look like rain. That would be nice. Then Norman wouldn't have to worry about his handy-dandy umbrella!

After a few minutes he came hurrying down the curving stone steps that led up to the house, and stepped into the small lobby area of the motel.

"Evening!" He said, rather cheerfully. He was all smiles this evening. It wasn't a bad week for business. Well, sort of. And he was getting things done. Fixing the place up a bit. "Welcome to the Bates motel. We've got eleven vacancies. Twelve rooms, eleven vacancies. Heh. Must be the busy season."

That was the Norman humor. Oh, but he was very polite. Very polite and courteous to his customers.

"So what can I do for you?"


i_liveforgodr
T.C. narrowed an eye at the guy.

"You queer or somthin, fella?" There was just something about him that T.C. didn't like. Though, in all honesty, T.C. didn't like a lot of things about a lot of people.

"I ain't here for no room. I'm lookin for somebody's. You ain't seen a little nigger girl carrying a white man's baby in her slut stomach, have ya? She's about yeay high, and a nigger. Fella's taller. Might be wearin a preacher's collar?"

Like a cow, T.C. was chewing on a concoction that could only be described as cud. He spit some of it onto the floor, and then ground it in with the toe of his dirty boot.


i_shower

Norman blinked. He was in shock from the man's words. He'd never heard such foul and descriptive language in his entire life, and it caused him to just stand there and stare at the man for a good long while. He was trying to recuperate from the surprise.

"I ... beg your pardon?"

Queer? No, no he didn't think so. That would imply lust and sex and attraction. Mother didn't approve of such things. She didn't approve of women or whores and definitely not alternatives to the female sex.

Norman watched as the man spit onto his floor. He didn't like that.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather you not do that. I just cleaned in here. And no, I don't believe I have seen anyone that fits your ... colorful description."


i_liveforgodr
T.C. narrowed his eyes a bit more. This guy was trying to give him orders? Yeah right. T.C. could take him in a heartbeat. He spit again, this time on the counter. And he didn't try to wipe it away.

"Yer sure. They'd be real hard to miss. What with her bein a nigger an all. A pregn'nt one at that. Like a houseboat. She wuz fat anyway, then she went and got all knocked up outta wedlock. Like a real whore do. Jesse coulda done her in the back hole, and avoided all this, but he didn't. Now there's a little half nigger baby on the way."

T.C. shook his head. It was such a shame.

"Caint wait to have my turn with her, though."


i_shower

Norman's eyes ceased being wide when the man spit on the counter top. Instead, they slowly began to narrow into a peer. But when he spoke it was with an awkward nervousness or anxiety, stuttering a few letters. It wasn't what T.C. might think. Norman being weak or wimpish. It was Norman fighting a deeper urge.

"N-n-no! I haven't seen anybody l-like that. And d-don't spit on my counter. If you're going to be a nuisance then I'm going to call the cops. This is private property and you're trespassing, sir."

Norman stepped away from behind the counter and straightened his posture.

"And I don't like that word being used in my presence. It's dirty."

Dirty like your filthy whore mouth! Mother thought.


i_liveforgodr
A sick smile crossed T.C.'s lips. "If yer keepin her for yerself, that's fine. Just let me get in there and cut the baby from her, and then you can do what you like. I might just give her a good buggering in her pooper, for good measure, you know how it is. But after that, she's all yours, fella. Marie don't care none what happens to the little nigger bitch. Just Little Jesse and the baby."

It didn't ever occur to T.C. that the rest of the world wasn't like him. That they didn't find attraction in the same things he did. To him, everybody must enjoy such things. Except Marie, who didn't enjoy anything, and Jody, who liked em female and alive.

"If y'all wanted, the two of us could go at 'er for a bit. They scream real good when you do that. Fill um all up from both ends."


i_shower

Words could not describe the anger that had suddenly overtaken Norman's mind. And interestingly enough, some of it was actually his own. Of course, Mother was going wild. But even Norman was deeply offended. Even Norman didn't like this man. And Norman wouldn't hurt a fly.

Or was that Mother?

"Get out of my motel right now."


i_liveforgodr
"I cain't leave without that baby, guy. I gotta take it back to Marie. So just let me get in there an get it, and then I'll go. I won't even stop to do the girl, she's all yours now."

He narrowed his eyes. "Besides, I ain't taken orders from no pansy ass little bitch like you. I get my orders from one place, and one place only. I'll leave when I damn well feel like it."

His spit, this time, landed right near the guy. Well aimed, it was.


i_shower

Norman continued to stare at the man for a good long while. This time, when the man spit, his attention didn't waver. It was though he were in a daze of some kind. A very dark and disturbing daze, separating him from the reality of being in that lobby with a sick-o.

Mother was talking to him.

"Oh, but I couldn't," he mumbled.

Yes! You must! He'll bring sluts here! He's one of THOSE kinds, Norman! And I won't have my little boy messing around with those kinds, you hear me?!

"Yes, Mother..."

He blinked. Then a grin crept across his face.

"Right. You want room number twelve," Norman said, turning around to snatch the key off the board behind him and handed it over to the man. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in there."


i_liveforgodr
"Well then, I knew you couldn't be a complete pecker."

T.C. took the room key and turned to make his way to the room. Fully expecting to find Jesse and his little black whore in there. Doing god knew what. Maybe T.C. would just watch a bit before taking them back to Miss Marie. Yes. That would do him some good. Maybe he could even convince Jesse to let him join in. That would be even better.

When he got to room twelve and opened the door, though, there was nothing.

Angry, T.C. turned around to shout back down the hall. He was going to curse up a storm, oh yes he was. Nobody fucked around like that on T.C. and got away wih it.

Hell, there weren't even any suitcases in here!

"You stupid fucker!"


i_shower
But as soon as T.C. had left to go down to room twelve, Norman seemingly disappeared off to places unknown to the stranger. Of course there was no one in cabin twelve. Norman had told him that he didn't see anyone that looked like what was being described. Not even close. His visitors were rather limited, what with the motel being semi-new to the area and slightly off the beaten path.

Norman had gone off hoping that the man would give up and leave. Or maybe he went off to phone the police. He would do that, he would. He wasn't afraid to. And when Norman was away, Mother came out from her room.

She walked along the planked porch of the motel, her grey hair, neatly tied up in a bun, and her flower patterned dress hanging just to the top of her black shoes. And in her hands she clutched the shovel that used to be leaning up against the back of the motel near the little storage shed. Norman had meant to put it away in the cellar, but he hadn't gotten around to it.

And when T.C. turned around?

W H A C K !

i_liveforgodr
Well, he hadn't been expecting that. And T.C.'s head wasn't nearly as hard as Jody's. He couldn't take a good strong whack like that and stay up.

T.C. didn't even register what had happened, only got a brief look at who had hit him, it looked like a woman, but it couldn't be, could it? No bitch hit that hard.

He went down, right to the ground, with no struggle at all.


i_shower

Mother stared at the fallen man, her lips twisted into a grimace. When she spoke her voice was older, higher pitched, but lacking that fragility that most older women had. No weakness here. Not with Mother. Mother was strong.

"That's for trying to teach my son dirty whoremongrel things, you disgusting piece of trash."

And Mother went back to her room.

When Norman returned from wherever it was he'd been hiding to keep out of sight of the stranger, he thought he'd done well. The man seemed to be gone! Except, so was the key to cabin twelve. Well, that didn't make any sense. No one was staying in cabin twelve.

Norman quirked a brow and stepped out onto the porch. What he saw shocked him more than the N-word T.C. had used. He gasped and fell back against the door for a minute.

"Oh GOD, Mother!"

He hurried over and looked down at the shovel, its ended dripping with blood. Norman didn't even notice that the man still had some shallow breathing in him.

"OH GOD, MOTHER! BLOOD! BLOOD!"

Norman glanced back and forth nervously, biting at his fingernails. Did anyone see him? Was anybody watching?

"Oh, Mother!"

i_liveforgodr
The world was swimming back into focus, slowly. T.C. was dizzy, disoriented. His head felt like a train had run over it a few times. He didn't know where he was.

"Sonnabitch." He slurred. Tried to push himself up. Couldn't. Something... why wouldn't his arms work? Nothing would work.

"Gonnakillyou, motherfucker." Yeah, when he got up, he was going to completely dismember that asshole.



i_shower

Mother must have hit a nerve when she smacked the man with a shovel. Good. No! Bad! Oh god. What to do. What to do. Norman just did what was natural to him. He had to protect Mother. So he'd tied T.C. up as best he could with some sheets. New, clean sheets. The ones from cabin twelve. It was a pity to see them ruined. And he dragged him across the porch, and behind the motel.

And then the man started mumbling. He was alive!

"Ack!"

Norman kicked him in the head to try and shut him up. Then he tried to quicken his pace, dragging the man back through the swampy forest area that sat behind the motel, just east of the house.

When they reached the edge of the swamp, where many a vehicle had been pushed, Norman fixed a few bricks to the man's feet using tape and wire. It took him sometime. But the man was alive! He didn't have a place for him. And he couldn't let him float to the surface.


i_liveforgodr

The kick to the head was enough to get T.C. down again. Just long enough for him to be moved, so that when he came to this time, it was a swamp he saw. He relaxed a bit, thinking that he was home.

Home.

Angelville.

But then he realized he still couldn't move his feet. Or anything. He felt like he was tied up. He was tied up!

T.C. struggled a bit. Still very groggy, more so now than before.

"Lemmego, pansysissyprick."


i_shower

But Norman didn't say anything. In fact, he was a little freaked out. Nervous. What if someone found him? What if someone saw? What if they came looking? No, if they looked he knew they wouldn't find anything.

The minute that T.C. awoke again and started speaking, Norman rolled him into the swamp. He had to step into it a few inches, getting his shoes soaked, to make sure that the man ended up in a deeper area of the swamp. Then he scrambled backwards onto the bank to watch the man sink into the slimy water, all the while chewing on his nails, nervously awaiting to see if he would sink to the bottom and be completely submersed.


i_liveforgodr
Sink T.C. did, too. Quickly. Completely. He could swim, but he wasn't so smart, so when he went under water, he was also trying to call the guy a pig fucker.

His lungs filled with the swampy water, destroying any chance he might have possibly had.

He felt his feet hit the bottom, because of the bricks, and that was the end.

Things hurt. The world went black.

T.C. was no more than swamp critter food.


i_shower

And Norman stood on the banks of the swamp for another five minutes, just in case the unexpected happened. Just in case the ties on the bricks broke loose or the man escaped by some other means.

He ate a few pieces of candy corn which he took out of his pocket, and when he was sure that the man would no longer bother him or his mother, he went back to clean up the shovel and return to the house.

He would have to find a new set of sheets for the bed in cabin twelve.