Pickman’s Motel Bonus Story
The following story was extracted from Mark McLaughlin’s Delirium chapbook, Pickman’s Motel, due to the strict word count of the hardcover chapbook series. It’s now available to registered Delirium Insiders for free…
The Call Of Uncouth U.
by Mark McLaughlin
© 2007 by Mark McLaughlin
All Rights Reserved.
There I was, sitting at my desk in my office, enjoying a cup of apple-cinnamon coffee, answering my highly important business e-mails, when suddenly—like a diabolical bolt of jet-black lightning streaking down from an unforgiving, starless void of madness and death—the phone rang.
Was it my imagination, or did this particular ring reverberate with unholy tones of nightmarish intensity?
The phone rang again.
I answered the call. I felt like I had to sneeze, but I tried my best to fight it. “Thank you for calling Gilman MegaNational. This is Mark. How may I help you?”
At that moment I lost the fight and let loose a mighty sneeze, holding the phone away from me so I wouldn’t be trumpeting in the ear of the individual at the other end. As a result, I missed the first part of the caller’s reply. I returned to the phone just in time to hear a low male voice utter some initials—his own, I suppose. The first letter was “U” but I didn’t catch the rest.
Then the caller said those words that shocked me down to the marrow. “I’d like to talk to you about your package handling needs.”
I was absolutely stunned. “You want to handle…my package?”
“Yes, sir,” U. said with cocky assurance. “Whenever and wherever you like.”
“Is this your job, calling people with this offer?” I asked, trembling with an unspeakable combination of outrage and curiosity.
“Yes, indeed! And if I do say so myself, it’s a great deal. All our customers nationwide are completely satisfied with our services.”
“Our” services? I could not believe my ears. Did this lurid personage belong to some sort of perverse coast-to-coast cult? “Are these services of yours legal?” I sputtered.
“Of course!” U. said. He seemed a bit surprised by my question. “We’ve been in business for decades. People use us all the time. Even the police. And judges! I’m in sales now, but back when I was more of a “hands-on” employee, out on the street, I got to handle a Supreme Court justice’s package. I was very careful with it. He told me it was extremely fragile.”
“That makes sense,” I said. After all, aren’t most Supreme Court justices senior citizens? “Was he a generous customer?”
“Certainly. The tip was enormous,” my uncouth caller gloated. “He was so pleased by my performance, he called the next week and asked for me by name. He wanted me to take care of his son’s package. And it was a big one! Long and heavy. Hard to maneuver. My arms were sore the rest of the day. It must have been very valuable. It was insured for ten-thousand dollars.”
“They can be insured? I had no idea!” No question about it—I was learning a lot that day. “Do you miss handling the packages, now that you’re in sales?”
“Not really,” he said. “The customers were nice, but all that work was really hard on my shoulders and knees. You’d be surprised at how heavy some of those packages can get. I always used a dolly on the really big ones—that helped.”
“There’s a trick to every trade,” I noted. I must confess, that hellish sales representative from the depths of depravity was starting to intrigue me.
“So do you have a package you’d like us to take care of?” he asked with all the ravenous gusto of a rutting satyr. “We offer the fastest service in the industry.”
“You wouldn’t have to rush on my account…” I said.
“That’s certainly a refreshing attitude!” he chortled. “So can I count on your business in the near future?”
At that moment—God help me!—I gave in to the most licentious of animal urges. Capering imps of mad lust danced upon my cerebellum, imprinting my gray matter with the lusty hoof-prints of decadence. “Yes, oh yes!” I cried. “In fact, my package is ready!”
“That’s great!” U. crooned. “Is it a big package?”
“I’d like to think so,” I said. “Maybe you should send a dolly—I’d really like to see one in action. I hope you wash it after every use.”
“All our handling equipment is squeaky clean,” U. stated. “We wouldn’t want to get your office carpets dirty. Should I send somebody over right now?”
“Now? Right here at work?” What would my supervisor think? “Send a handler to my apartment around eight tonight. Be sure to tell the handler to bring that dolly. Oh, and some wine. A nice merlot. Also, a bottle of baby oil and a rubber sheet and maybe some—”
Click.
I could not believe it. After all that salacious sales banter—just as we were about to close the deal—that cruel tempter U. had hung up on me!
But I now realize it was for the best. I am, at heart, a man of morals and integrity, and to engage in such vile, bestial rituals of unbridled carnality would surely have endangered my mortal soul, turning me into a blasphemous demon of wanton abandon.
After I finished answering my e-mails, I remembered that I had to take a box full of invoices down to our Innsmouth office.
I hated running such time-consuming errands. They ate up far too much of my day.
But really, what choice did I have?
Comment by Stevefaust on 30 April 2007:
I liked this one, but it was the best of the 4 stories to cut from Pickman’s Motel, in keeping with the Mythos theme. Thanks for posting it!
Comment by SLIM on 30 April 2007:
Thats why I handle my own package………If you want something done right!!!!
Cute story.
Comment by Tod Clark on 30 April 2007:
Look forward to reading the extra material but will wait until after I read the chapbook so I will not get any spoilers.
If my copy of this and CLICKERS II do not arrive in the mail today I am going to start to panick.
Comment by kresby on 30 April 2007:
Mark - you are one crazy nut.
kresby
Comment by Stevefaust on 30 April 2007:
Tod, This is an excised story and is not related to the 3 stories in the chap. No spoilers needed.
Comment by gman20 on 30 April 2007:
That was good , but the caveman one was the best guess thats why it made it in to the book. Thank for the extra.