Barfhogs

By Boris D. Schleinkofer

Times change, and with them the hearts of lovers...
BARFHOGS
People are the worst. You can see it everywhere you look.
Marcus just wants to live clean but the blood he spills stains everything. And those closest to him are the dirtiest.
You can look at it so close, up under the microscope of misery, that it becomes your whole world. Down here in the primordial soup where we wallow ... we are the flies, and we are everywhere.
"The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams" - Oprah Winfrey
If you have a heart for cruelty, all your dreams will become nightmares and your Love will be neither Life nor Death and yet both---She is the angel of contraception, and she comes for you.
Ripen, upgrade, evolve or just plain grow up; something inside needs to come out.
It's black humor. No character is truly redeemable, nor absolutely detestable. Out past light and darkness are only shades of grey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boris D. Schleinkofer
• Release date: Dec 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370925148

Boris D. Schleinkofer

He is a fictional character in the Horror-Play “The Greatest Practical Joke Ever”, by Shaytan Komp’ü’tor. He has never made love to a beautiful woman, never wallowed in fresh kill, never found a briefcase full of hundred-dollar bills. In fact, he doesn't even exist at all. So there...And another:Boris D. Schleinkofer is a slave, just like you and everybody else. He lives near the monolith of Baal. His number is 5x2-00x1-11. He is a good citizen.

Book preview

BARFHOGS

by

Boris D. Schleinkofer

©2017

Smashwords Edition

ISBN 9781370925148

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Act 1

Act 2

Act 3

Concept Art

About the Author

EXT – STREET - NIGHT

(A swarm of police vehicles block off the street and the SWAT-team, a CAPTAIN speaking in low tones into his radio and twelve officers armed with bullet-proof shields and a battering ram, advances stealthily up the street towards the entrance to MARCUS'S apartment.)

INT – LIVINGROOM - NIGHT

(The gang plays video-games on a computer with numerous devices plugged into it and two giant HDTV-sets. This livingroom is in a rough neighborhood, and our gang is a rough bunch: MARCUS, now in his late 30's with a gold tooth, spiderweb-tattoo under his eye and close-cropped buzzcut; BETTY drinks red wine straight from the bottle and flicks her ashes in the long-dead houseplant; RAYMOND alternates between pressing buttons on the controller and swigging from one of a line of beer-bottles. BETTY'S two friends, STEVE and JILL try to engage with her over a set of paints but the music and overwhelming sound-effects from 'House of Doom RETRO' drowns her out:)

JILL

What's that light?

BETTY

What?!

JILL

What's that flashing light outside?

BETTY

What?! (to MARCUS) Would you turn that racket down! I can't hear myself think!

MARCUS (simultaneous)

Dude, fuckin' kill it!

RAYMOND

Relax man, I got this.

BETTY

Marcus!

MARCUS

What? Aagh!

BETTY

I said would you turn it down! It's too loud!

MARCUS

Aagh! Aagh! Kill it! Kill it!

(MARCUS climbs up the back of the couch in his excitement, ignoring BETTY:)

BETTY

Marcus! Marcus! Marcus! Marcus, goddamnit don't make me say it again! Turn it down! Now!

(The sound-system lets out a piercing scream of death and MARCUS tosses his controller down on the coffeetable:)

MARCUS

Alright, alright, I'm doing it.

(He reaches down to a mixing-board panel down by his feet and twists a knob, lowering the thunder. As he does so, a FLY dives down on him and bashes itself into his head, bringing on a minor fit.)

BETTY

Thank you! Was that so hard?

(STEVE and JILL have been getting steadily more uncomfortable, and STEVE rises:)

STEVE

Hey, Betty, where's your bathroom?

BETTY

Through the kitchen and to the right. Don't look up at the ceiling.

STEVE

Why not?

BETTY

Just don't.

(STEVE shrugs and exits; JILL helplessly pushes a paintbrush around a posterboard:)

RAYMOND

Marcus, start a new game. This is bullshit.

STEVE (OS)

Hey, nunchucks!

BETTY (yelling to STEVE)

Put those down.

(MARCUS starts the videogame up with its announcing scream and gunshots; he sneakily bumps the volume back up a notch:)

TV

House of Doom...retro!

MARCUS

He can play with them. I said so.

RAYMOND

Yeah, let him.

(The smart-phone on the coffeetable starts loudly ringing and vibrating; there is a loud 'Thock!' from offscreen as STEVE clocks himself in the back of the head:)

STEVE (OS)

Ow! Ow-www, ow!

BETTY (yelling)

(to MARCUS) Answer your phone! (to STEVE) What did you do?

EXT – STREET – NIGHT

(The SWAT-team approaches MARCUS'S house, and we can see JILL getting to her feet: inside through the open curtain...)

INT – LIVINGROOM – NIGHT – RETURN TO PREVIOUS

JILL

I think we should probably be leaving...

(BETTY picks up a bottle of paint in passing and deposits it in JILL'S hand as she makes her way to the kitchen:)

BETTY

Nonsense, you just make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? I think we have some sangria in the kitchen, I'll bring the bottle on my way back. I'm just going to go check on Steve real quick. You stay here, I'll be right back.

(BETTY makes a show of encouraging JILL back into her seat.)

MARCUS

Hey, will you grab me a soda?

BETTY

Sure, I should just go make you a sandwich like a good little wifey. Get your own drink, jerk.

MARCUS

What? I have never in the entire time we've been together, demanded that you make me a sandwich! Die! Die! Gah! Fuck that!

EXT – STREET – NIGHT

(The SWAT-team assembles at the front door, readies the battering ram; the CAPTAIN murmurs into his walkie-talkie and waves hand-gestures to his troopers.)

INT – LIVINGROOM – NIGHT – RETURN TO PREVIOUS

(BETTY, JILL and STEVE stand around expectantly, ready to leave; STEVE watches the videogaming with dazed excitement, a large red welt in the middle of his forehead; the phone still buzzes and chimes on the coffeetable:)

STEVE

Dude, videogames are nothing like when we were kids.

RAYMOND

I know, I love these shooters. They're so...active.

MARCUS

So much shit going on. Whaa! You never get a chance to think straight.

BETTY

Are you going answer that? What's wrong with you?

RAYMOND

(to MARCUS) Wait for me to tell you to take the shot.

MARCUS

Who made you team leader? Fuck!

BETTY

Answer your goddamn phone already!

(BETTY angrily goes to the coffeetable, picks up the phone and puts it on speaker, then tosses it back down:)

BETTY

There!

(She goes back to sit down with JILL and STEVE. MARCUS is involved in videogames & hasn't noticed the blinking lights on the phone:)

MARCUS

Fuck it, I'm just gonna shoot him!

EXT – PORCH – NIGHT – RETURN TO PREVIOUS

(The CAPTAIN gets the news on his radio and relays it to his team:)

CAPTAIN

Active shooter! I repeat, we have an active shooter!

(He makes a few more gestures to wave them forward, notable among them one formed by lacing the hands together with the first two fingers extended—in the shape of a gun, to indicate that the parties inside are armed.)

INT – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT – RETURN TO PREVIOUS

MARCUS

Dude, use a grenade!

(A hissing smoke-canister breaks through the window and spins down to a grinding halt in the middle of the floor while the party stares at it dumbfounded.)

RAYMOND

What the hell?

(JILL and STEVE get to their feet as everyone else sits stunned with their jaws hanging open. The battering ram busts the down the door and the SWAT-team floods into the livingroom like hell on wheels:)

CAPTAIN

Marcus Dume Slimekoffer, you are under arrest! Are you still in possession of a firearm with the license number 882337 stroke 7a?

MARCUS

What? What? No! I told you guys, I reported it missing!

CAPTAIN

You have the right to remain silent—search the place, we need to recover the weapon! Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law!

BETTY

Marcus, goddamnit, what did you do?

MARCUS

What the hell?

(The SWAT-team now have JILL and STEVE on the ground with their hands behind their backs, and one of them grabs BETTY:)

BETTY

Get your hands