So we’ve stopped for the night midway across Missouri. A little early, sure, but there’s a flash flood warning, so we thought it best to head for high ground and dig in rather than keep driving. Here on the tail-end of the vacation, our funds are stretching a wee bit thin and we still have one or two stops we’d like to make, time and finances permitting, so we are sleeping on the cheap. In fact, the motel we are staying at tonight is…well, here is an actual conversation we had whilst ordering in a pizza.
CRIS: Do they even deliver out here? Should we call and ask before we order? (ed note: Remember when you could call and order a pizza instead of having to fill out a freaking dating profile with Dominos Online?)
LAURA: Sure, I can do that. What’s the name of this hotel?
ME: Just tell them it’s the one that looks like it’s been closed for five years.
LAURA: Okay, he says he knows that one. What room are we in?
CRIS: I don’t know…I think there’s a one in it.
ME: Tell them to take it to the office. There should be a guy in a dress pacing back and forth having a one-sided conversation with his invisible mother while stroking a knife. Just ask him where the victims are staying.
LAURA: I’ll…just tell them we’re in the room with a car parked in front of it.
CRIS: And tell them to hurry. I don’t want to be murdered on an empty stomach.
Anyway, since we’re on the road and the hotel’s amenities are, shall we say ‘sketchy,’ I’m going to go ahead and post Saturday’s chapter of my FNAFiction, Everything Is All Right, Part One: Girl on the Edge of Nowhere now, at 6.30 on Friday instead of midnight, when it’s officially Saturday. Regularly scheduled uploads will resume next Saturday. Please enjoy this excerpt from this week’s incredibly short chapter! (Only nine pages…which is practically a novel-length book in fanfiction circles)
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Ana was allowed to work unimpeded by the presence of Mason’s trainees, right up until Hardwood Floor Day, whereupon Mrs. Kellar swept herself and her yappy Yorkies out the front door, declaring that the noise from the sander and the fumes from the wood stain were giving her a headache and probably giving her precious babies cancer. It was unclear whether she meant the dogs or her sons, but what was clear was that Ana had only just finished sanding down the new living room floor and hadn’t even prepped it, much less started staining. However, once she got her breather off, the chemical smell hit her like a brick to the sinuses.
In spite of everything at stake, the very least of which might be her own safety, Ana lost her temper.
Out through the kitchen she went and into the new hallway she’d installed in the old garage to find the goddamn door open. Without a word, she stalked over and slammed it as hard as she fucking well could. In the unfinished space, still concrete floors and bare walls, it made just a hell of a noise. She wasn’t even back to the kitchen before the door opened again and out came an angry man who, in all fairness, it had not been a good idea to startle.
Words were said. Never in her entire time in Rider’s stable had Ana ever gotten in a shouting match with another pony, but she didn’t have a chance to be embarrassed by her behavior, because either the slamming door or the yelling had brought Mason in from the backyard where he and his favored few had been smoking and making business calls. She did manage not to join in with the finger-pointing, just stood and fumed until Mason turned his shark eyes on her, when she said, “The door was wide open and your mother noticed the smell. If that had been someone else, someone who knew what they were smelling, the fucking cops would be on their way right now.”
Mason nodded once and turned back to his cook. “You leave the door open?”
“It gets hot in there!”
“Did I tell you to keep the door shut?”
“It was open for, like, two minutes and she comes barging her fat ass in—”
Before Ana could cut in—and she would have, something she never would have done in Rider’s stable—Mason punched his cook in the face. The sound was as loud in its own way as the slamming door had been. There was blood on his knuckles when he pulled back his arm, blood squirting through the other man’s fingers as he clapped them over his mouth with a caw of surprise and pain.
Ana’s breath caught and her feet rooted. She watched, frozen, as Mason knotted a hand in his cook’s shirt and commenced to beating on him until there were teeth on the floor and blood on the walls. It took a very long time. The noise in the unfinished space was tremendous.