(This is a part of the lost chapters written by that great, great New England writer Gracious Medallion about the small retirement village she worked in and all of the gossip and shenanigans that went along with it. The manuscript was little more than a number of pages found in an empty gin bottle found floating somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. It is understood that Medallion perished somewhere out there taking the rest of her manuscript with her. Fortunately we have the million sellers Poopin Place and Return to Poopin Place to reassure us she was more than a talent and that she was a true genius.)
Cora along with Clara was the main witch of the coven at Poopin Place. As we knew the retirement village had gained this nickname when the body of one gentleman known for being a terrible lettuce and tomato sandwich was found with dog’s as well as human excrement under his head. He had been hanged. When he had gone to bed that evening, the shock of having placed his weary head on that very spot, shocked him to the point of death. Or so is the legend. Thus, when his body was found a day or three later, suffice me to say – it was classed as some kind of murder. Thus the Poop in Place of our title, that place which recently became my home… and unfortunately I had angered the witch known as Cora because I smoked and wanked and sadly had a scar on my penis…. There was to be no Allah in Poopin Place and the very fact I happened to well, you know, well, challenged in the foreskin department made me feel a little uneasy…. Whenever I would pull out my dick at the toilet in my unit there would be the cry of “No Allah!” And whenever I went to the shower and even dare touch the thing there was the cry of “NO ALLAH!” … I really couldn’t care less, but it became oh so annoying. I did not choose this place to live but Cora chose it to be her domain. Let alone pulling off in front of the mirror or in bed: “NNNOOO AAALLLAHHH!” One needs inspiration!
The rest of the witches hated me too. The men benign, The other witches began to bully me with reminders I was a man if they weren’t crying out: “Fuck off and take your Lynx deodorant with you” as I walked through the common room which served as the dining room and with its heavy curtains as the place where the head witches would hold their black mass under the cover of a cards night every time they thought a new resident should be expelled or cursed. Or killed. Sadly, I was cursed in the groin department to die.
“Welcome to Poopin Place,” said one woman, who I swear had insulted me earlier about my choice of deodorant: “You better take up weightlifting.”
“Why don’t you take a flying fuck off a tall building,” I imagined. It was a habit I had picked up at the sanitarium, to judge and to comment in my head. But, sadly, I cast remnants, or voices with these thoughts known as Red Planet since I was born with a certain power of ESP or extra sensory perception, one which was not keen but one which had grown with the eternal madness and hatred within that madhouse of the institution from which I had been released. Mine was a damaged and deaf ESP.
“And we all said fuck you Jason,” said Cora in her chair. I kept going and left the building, giving her a certain two finger salute. Such language from a little old lady. See you next Tuesday beautiful.
“You just got the finger,” said another to Cora, as if they could actually see through the walls.
“That doesn’t matter, have you seen how fat he is and how he smokes? He will be dead soon. I would love to see him dead. We all would love to see him dead.”
They were supposed to have cured me of the voices at the hospital and I retired to my unit and wondered what the world had come to. This supposed haven for the old and those who suffered maladies to the point where they must find some secure place to live was really some sort of charnel house of the mind. There was nothing but adapt or die.
There was a knock at the door and Jack stood there. I had met Jack earlier at the gate where he was taking his dog for a walk and I had told him which unit I lived in.
“You dropped your key Jason,” and he held it up and placed it in the palm of my hand. “You must be careful with keys. You’re in the same unit as Dory Trip and he was found dead you know. Hanged he was by suicide.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“Very said case… a wanker like you…. Wasn’t cut Allah … but still the same the coven didn’t like him and well, he took too much bread and fruit from the dining room and stole ice creams without paying for them…. He had to go one way or another.”
“And how was it he went?”
“Very horribly. They found him with his hair covered in dog shit and he simply died of a heart attack…. That and a rope around his neck. It’s a common occurrence here in well, Poopin Place.”
“Well I don’t know if I’ll take too much bread or ice creams … All you’ll hear from me is nocturnal emissions!”
“Anyway, just letting you know. See you at lunch tomorrow,” and Jack departed.
It wasn’t long later that I found myself dead. There I was hanging from the door of my unit with the life ebbing from me. Not before the nine witches of Poopsin Place had been dispatched. Or so I thought. I could no longer see as the blood pooled in my head and began to freeze over in my veins. The thing was that I wasn’t a suicide, I had been given tablets ground up in my food and given to me which caused tachycardia and for me to pass out. It was in this state that the people who carried out this heinous crime lifted me on my bed and rubbed dogs droppings in my hair… Was I the final victim of Poopin Place? Or just the next one…
Go back to that first night at Poopin Place and I wished to write the Great Novel. Sadly it would not be so. All I needed was a wank to settle in and let the bad spirits wash away. But the witch Cora I would learn and her companions had put a hex on the place. The hex of NO Allah was effective and it was obvious to me that no narcissistic thought could be had for the onanist such as myself. Any penis to turn me on turned to nothing. I wondered why a large iron grate would fall from the sky as I lay there dick in hand. It just wasn’t happening for me. I had to go and investigate. Cora, was her name and that was not to mention Clara or Clarissa.
Cora and tonight was the full moon of Walpurgis night. I wasn’t kaput yet as I wiped the grease from my hand with hope in my heart or a possible future erection… The witches would meet tonight for cards somewhere in Poopin Place and I guessed it was the common room where lunch was served….
I put on my thongs in the middle of the night and made my way to the common room and it was there I saw the oddest of sights. There was a space in the windows where I could peek through and as my eyes focussed I could see the nine witches eight women and one man. They were all naked and the man was overweight compared to the elderly witches as they held hands dancing in a circle
‘Om merny pammy huum” they repeated all over again and again like in the episode Kingdom of the Spiders with Jon Pertwee. After they danced in a ring five times as they dripped with semen or some sort of matter from their vaginas. How they filled them I do not know…
“Sisters, our virgin brother needs to be released from his bondage. Clara take him and perform the ritual.”
The fat naked man stood from the centre of the circle and was led to an altar at the head of the room which had a black velvet cloth and two black candles. It was obvious this man was not endowed and he got no excitement from the nine or really eight witches.
“Take me sisters, I want to come inside. I want to come come…. Let me come!”
Cora took the man by the hand and led him to the altar. She spat on her hand and grabbed the man’s foreskin and cried out the words: “Give us the power of NO Allah!”
“Please Cora give me the power to fuck you, to entice you, to make love to you!,” he said.
As I watched the other witches began to masturbate and the juices began to flow down their fingers and onto the floor of the common room until it was sticky. Such was the flow.
“Is he not hot sisters?” Said Cora and tried to pull back what foreskin the man had on his small member. “Now let’s give him a night to remember.”
Cora pushed the man down gently on his back and sat on his face. I found this an interesting turn of events since he was supposed to be one of them and couldn’t breathe. Cora then began to rock gently on his face.
“Smell me. Smell my sickening cunt. Take in the breaths of hell itself. For I am with satan!”
And then, I thought….
It would appear the man passed out and Cora stood and then signalled to her sisters to pick up knives which also sat on the altar…
“You know what we do to wankers such as he sisters!”
It was then that they all dived on to the naked man and plunged their daggers in to his flesh. I could only wince at what I had beheld. The man was dead in moments and there was literally blood everywhere. There in the background was a police siren…
“Clara put the music on… we must not be discovered.”
The witch Clara hit the button and Nutbush City Limits started on the machine.
“Dance sisters. Dance!!”
It was the strangest sight of eight naked women dancing the Madison around the bloody and juiced floor and the dead flesh of some poor soul. The blood swished around the floor and mixed with the vaginal juices of each witch… Three of them actually used walkers for the elderly…. But this did not stop their juices from flowing…. The police car was gone and the song ended. They should have been exhausted but they continued to Madison ….
“So ends tonights session …. Bring in Renfield Clara,” said Cora
“Tonight’s Renfield is a retired mechanic who gives us extra cheese.”
In stepped a man from the kitchen who dropped his robe and revealed an enormous penis. Semi erect with cheese obvious at the tip from which it dripped…
“Who would like the altar and the wafer tonight?”
“Pick me, pick me,,,”was the chorus.
“No, he is mine,” salivated Cora and pulled out her false teeth and grabbed the cock and began to such it in all its glory…. “Help yourself to the wine girls. Renfield will clean up…..” As Cora winked: “and so will I” and she plunged to cock further into her throat until she gagged.
I went back to my unit in a trance, as if I couldn’t believe what I had seen. I begged to myself that it was all a dream, that no murder had been committed and that elderly people didn’t participate in sexual activities of such degradation. Wow and even the Madison.
I bumped into Jack the next day as he took some of the fruit supplied in the complex back to his room.
“Did you hear someone died last night,” said Jack.
“It happened here in this room,” I said as I took a banana.
Jack laughed. “No It was one of the witches…. One of the seven or eight or nine. Anyway I guess there’s seven now.”
“Where?”
“Back in her room. They found her naked in bed with a football beanie shoved down her throat.”
“What?”
“… And dog’s poop running through her hair.”
“My god how sickening. Who would do such a thing?”
“All I know is that a lot of people had it in for her. She had the power to make people vomit in their sleep. She’d seen a number of people off to hell.”
I watched Jack walk off in to the distance with his dog and the creature shat in the grounds of Poopin Place…. He just kept walking. I thought who would go so far as to kill one of the witches even if she was a witch at all….
“Jack, pick it up,” leered Cora in the grounds.
And Jack obeyed as if he knew how powerful this woman was.
“Wanker,” said some nondescript to me as I left.
Perhaps it was lay heavy breathing, or perhaps someone had seen me outside the common room.
“What was it you said?”
“I said I love you,” and he kissed the air. I knew his name was Bob and I wished him dead for being, well, a wanker. And a prissy one at that. He was talking to Clara who Jack had said was another one of the witches.
How are you settling in?” Asked the kitchen help and gave me a bag full of groceries later that day
At my front door.
“Have you heard of Clarissa or Clara? I can’t quite remember her name….”
“Yeah.”
“Boy has she got it in for you…. She’s a witch you know and the strongest one in the place. I’d look out for her or her …. Jokes… she’s a real Nazi… she hates Allah boys something chronic.”
“Yeah and….”
“Bevare as Bela Lugosi used to say Bevare… She wants you dead with a Poop in Place,,,,”
“A what?”
“You know, a poop in place…. A dog shit perfectly placed in your hair. I’ll give you a tip, all the kids watch her put on a show in her lounge room about midnight in unit 522… Enjoy the Corn Flakes I hope you don’t like them with cum on them…”
“What?“
That’s how Clarissa would serve them to you… bye bye….”
And the girl went on her way. Cute.
So I had to check out Clarissa or Clara’s show that night and found my way to her unit where the curtain had a permanent crack in it either from her own spying or from allowing the local teenagers watch what went on. There were even empty condom packets outside the window along with various McDonalds paraphernalia. I waited there till midnight and it became apparent she lived with her invalid husband who was permanently stuck in bed. Like a peeping tom I saw her enter the room and slam the door behind her.
“Did I wake you you old fuck. Mr Big Resistance! They called me a Nazi at the Country Women’s Association again because I questioned too many beanies being knitted. How do you like that you impotent…. Oh, you’re asleep.”
I don’t know how old Clara was, probably eighty or so, but this woman had two personalities which became apparent when she ripped a sheet from the wall exposing a painting of Adolf HItler.
“OH, mein fuhrer, pleased to know your acquaintance again.”
She ripped off her floral dress down to her negligee.
“I have one to kill tonight and his name is Jason. He was watching us the other night through the window and he is one of Allah. He dares to break our Allah ban….and masturbate. He also smokes too much!”
She ripped off her negligee and stroked her raging and sagging breasts in front of the painting.
“Let me give you the power! As I stroke my breasts in front of you and let the juices flow. Let me fondle myself and think of nothing but the Third Reich!…”
I watched Clarissa stroke herself and then she reached for a rather large white candle, which wasn’t lit, and inserted it into her mouth while at the same time stroking her clitoris. The candle was obviously meant to be some sort of warty Nazi penis or a Satanic one anyway and it brought her pleasure as the vagina as her body orgasmed in enjoyment….
“There, now will you kill Jason? Kill him. He must die. Kill him!”
It was then that this witch entered the realm of what I would call Red Planet. I am no expert at Red Planet but it seems to be some kind of psychic realm….
“How dare they kill one of our sisters…. And Cora was humiliated…. And he dare to access Allah to pull on his dick…. I will have none of it…. The fuhrer will have none of it for you know that he is the devil and that he has put me in charge of all the witches in this neighbourhood. I am queen, I mean queen witch….”
It was then that Clarissa or Clara, I forget her name, peered at the window and I thought she saw me and she stared with red eyes like some sort of demon or snake.
“We have no need for this Jason at this place and he must be destroyed. Tell the girls to contact Fat Albert to burn down his unit, have all the women concentrate their masturbatory powers onto Jason…. He has ruined this place by being here and I think he is responsible for the death of sister Sybil with her beanie down her throat…. He turned one of the sisters against her! … Quickly I feel another head rush coming on. Answer me before I come and reach for the candle once more.”
And so she inserted her candle in another oreface and back in her mouth and used her hand to come again and again.
“I saved them! I saved them!! During the war I saved them from Adolf!”
What the hell she was talking about I don’t know.
Well that was enough for me. I thought I’d go back to my room to face destruction.
“You float around like a genie but you are not one! I am!” … I awoke suddenly from sleep and realised it was the name and voice of Cora …. I had dreamt about the candle in the hands of Cora and she would fellate it as far as she could down her throat until milk or semen poured from it … that was all I learned from that dream and the dreams weren’t coming anymore in Poopin Place or Poopsin Place whatever you wanted to call it … the dog poops so perfectly in place on the bodies of the dead … what the hell was going on? What had I gotten myself in to?
It was later that day that I learnt about Red Planet. I went to lie down on the bed to grab a few zees and heard the voice of the gardener in the background. I knew he was no fan of mine as few really were but it became apparent that he may want to help me. I lay down on the bed and felt an invisible arm press me down on the bed.
“I feel the presence of a demon,” he said. And I let myself into the darkness of my closed eyes go with it. It was black and red. Years ago my mother had taught me of a way to relax where you would close your eyes and see a red circle in front of your eyes and I always called this Red Planet. Here the darkness turned into one of those fold up paintings held by psychiatrists but in black and red. It was as my lungs breathed heavily due to smoking that the pictures turned into some sort of demon or reptilian creature… IT was perhaps a demon or do each of us on Earth possess the soul of a reptile back from the age of the dinosaurs? Sounds like bullshit but in terms of reincarnation and the progression of the planet – there are possibilities. And that demon is one which is prehistoric and without human language or feeling – primordial. I followed this creature through my head and faced it head on with heavy breathing and over to the other side of wakefulness. And when I woke the whole place accused me of masturbation due to my heavy breathing! So much for going through a catharsis and being able to do anything right in this godforsaken place.
IT was around this time that some other people outside the grounds and in the neighbourhood of Poopin Place taught me how to go further with Red Planet. Sadly, not being a player of computer games didn’t help in my imaginary adventures and instead I used sexual inserts of the Allah variety which some reason were briefly available. For some reason Allah broke through for a while and I told my sexual story to these people. They showed me some of their visions which they were able to conjure, but it only ended with someone wanting to blow my head off with a shot gun… due to his son pretending to be twenty one… I prefer reality but now I can see why there are those on opium or on sleeping tablets just want to sleep forever and live in the world of Red Planet.
Read the rest of the mystery of Poopsin Place in PART TWO
Cult Film Alley 