\chapauth{THE WORST DOCTOR} \chapter{The Snake Lady} \begin{textblock}{1.5}(4.7,1) \begin{center} \includegraphics[height=1in]{art/white-ribbon.pdf} \\ {\scriptsize Third place: {\em Horrors 2} writing contest} \end{center} \end{textblock} \noindent There was a kid who came up to me one evening after I had left my precinct, sniffling and tugging on the left leg of my pants. He had snot all over his face and I was pretty disgusted. But my job is to help people, not to pass judgment, so I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had cash on him. ``What's wrong, kid?'' I asked. An ominous breeze blew from the south. It was going to rain. I didn't ask him why he was by the bar at such an age. A kid's gotta do what a kid's gotta do. ``Some lady stole my candy,'' he told me, wiping the snot from his nose and the tears in his eyes in an upward motion. Both bodily fluids ended up on his forehead. ``Well,'' I said, popping the collar of my Armani jacket. ``I can handle that. Stay here, sport.'' I gave him a pat on the head, not unlike the pats my father used to give me when I hadn't completely screwed everything up, and went into the building. There was nothing in there that was particularly special, save for a few local drunks hanging out in the corner. The bartender gave me a nod, a knowing one; he could tell from my hat and flashy badge that I meant business. That's what it is to be a private detective, after all. I sidled up to the bar and took a seat on a rickety barstool, ordering my usual: an appletini. A girl at the bar eyed me. She looked like a bitch. I knew I had found my target. ``Hi,'' she said once I got my drink. The light leaked from the neon signs that said {\sc Paradise}. I chuckled as I sipped my cocktail gingerly. How ironic. ``What can I do you for,'' I asked. I didn't mean it the way I made it sound. ``It's not often a man like you comes to town,'' She said, giggling. I noticed she was wearing a rusty necklace. ``Yes,'' I said simply. I don't like to waste words. She put her hand on my arm and looked at me with glimmering eyes. I said nothing. Suddenly she was grabbing onto my arm and digging her horrid nails into my flesh. I cried out. My skin was on fire. She drew blood and laughed like my grandmother used to. At that moment I knew I hated her. ``You're a thief and a liar!'' I yelled, kicking my barstool into her lower half. She fell down and brought my appletini with her as she tried in vain to grab the bar for support. The people around us piled out of the bar while screaming and running. I was glad they knew enough to leave at this moment. It was going to get ugly. ``Bavarioussssss,'' she quipped, her tongue long and thin like a snake. Her rusty necklace was rusted. Even more rusted than before. She had no legs now. She was like a snake on the bottom. Cruel and unforgiving. She was going to squeeze me. I knew it. I felt like vomiting. A thin stream spluttered from my mouth. It got all over my new boots. I was blind with seething rage as I dove toward her, knocking over bottles of Jack Daniels. I began to punch and punch and punch. I was screaming though I didn't know why. She fought back feebly. She tried to kick me but she had no legs anymore. I laughed. How unfortunate. She was bleeding a lot. It got all over me. Luckily I had tucked my tie into my belt. It wouldn't get in my way. She scratched at me again and called me mean things. There was blood, awful blood, leaking from her eyes. It was red. Dark red. The color of a heart after it's been taken out of a body. I was going to take her heart out of her body. Then I thought against it. Too messy. Finally I drove the rusty necklace into her. She died of rust poisoning. She giggled one last time at me before slumping onto the floor. Then she disappeared in a cloud of smoke. ``Should've gotten your tetanus shot,'' I commented. I gathered up the kid's candy, colorful wrappers that may as well have contained pure cane sugar, and went outside. The kid was there, snot dried in his hair. He was wringing his shirt with his grubby little hands when he saw me, fearing the worst. I dropped the candy on the ground in front of him, and lit a cigarette for myself. ``Don't let it happen again, champ,'' I said. He nodded and understood. As he walked away, munching on his dental problem candy, I was reminded a little bit of myself. Life before I became a detective. A simple, idle life with no worries. But that was all behind me now. I'm Luke Bavarious, detective extraordinaire.