reaches for Screwball.
And now Screwball reacts; can be as slippery as an eel when he wants, and the want has never been greater. He draws back quickly into a sitting position then springs to his feet.
The Jeff-Thing mutters more of its ancient mumbo jumbo then retreats behind a wall of impenetrable darkness.
Screwball scans the aisle looking for some sign of the Jeff-Thing. “Where the hell'd you go?” Calling the Jeff-Thing out like this is more a sign of nerves than anything else. He curses under his breath and carefully steps back over Len's body.
The lights in the car briefly flicker ... and the Jeff-Thing reappears, standing a mere couple of feet in front of Screwball.
Screwball's heart skips a beat. It's an odd sensation bordering on unpleasant. He cries out and turns for the end door. Despite it being dark, he finds the handle straight away.
Is that the Jeff-Thing breathing down his neck, or is it his imagination ?
He squeezes himself into the next car and holds the door tightly shut behind him. He peers through one of the glass panels. The lights in the adjacent car momentarily flicker, highlighting the Jeff-Thing standing in the open doorway and staring ahead through its weird reptile eyes. Its mouth opens wide and what looks like hundreds of small insects pour from the black void.
Not insects, but spiders .
Screwball gives a panicked cry and holds the door as tightly shut as he can. The only thing he finds more terrifying than Clarabell the fucking clown is spiders. He looks down at the floor. It's too dark to see anything, but he imagines the arachnids have gotten past the gap between cars and are somehow flooding under the door. He rapidly stomps his feet.
“ Stanley .”
Screwball stops stomping. Someone just said his name from the other side of the door.
“Stanley, you there?”
The voice is unmistakeably his father's. But Screwball's father didn't raise no fool, so the obvious question is: how in the hell could Joseph Eugene Jacobs be on the other side of this door when just moments before it was a spider-spewing monster?
“I ain't lettin' go of this door,” Screwball says. “Whatever you are, it ain't workin'.” He looks through one of the windows. There's no sign of anyone or anything.
“Stanley, open the door. You gotta let me through.”
“The hell I do,” Screwball replies. “You ain't my dad, and even if you were, I hate you.”
“Stanley, you gotta understand, we moved to New York for you. There was nothing for you back home. We gave you a golden opportunity."
"You didn't gimme shit. You made me and Mom move here because you wanted to be closer to that airline whore you was screwin' - and stop calling me Stanley. You know how I hate it.”
No reply.
Screwball looks through the window again. “Hey, you still there?”
The lights in the car briefly flicker .
“Screwy, it's Wiley. Open the door.”
Screwball doesn't so much as twitch.
“Screwy, open the goddamn door. It's insane out here.”
“I can't see you - how do I know you're you?”
“For fucksake, Stan, Amanda is after me. She's not human. She's killing everyone. Now open the fuckin' door or I'm gonna die!”
“I still can't see you.” Screwball says. “You gotta try and lemme see your face.”
A few seconds pass, after which, Wiley's unmistakable silhouette appears in the doorway opposite.
Screwball sighs with relief and pulls open the door. “Man, thank Christ it's-”
The LCD information and notice displays spring to life and the lights in the car begin to flicker rapidly.
Screwball's blood turns to ice and his skin goes all prickly. It isn't Wiley standing in the opposite doorway, it's the Jeff-Thing, and it looks like a living abomination. It steps into the car and holds onto either side of the door frame. Its fingernails are now so very long.
“Do you want to know why your father ran off with a whore?” it says in a baleful tone. “He did it because you were the result of his seed, and
And now Screwball reacts; can be as slippery as an eel when he wants, and the want has never been greater. He draws back quickly into a sitting position then springs to his feet.
The Jeff-Thing mutters more of its ancient mumbo jumbo then retreats behind a wall of impenetrable darkness.
Screwball scans the aisle looking for some sign of the Jeff-Thing. “Where the hell'd you go?” Calling the Jeff-Thing out like this is more a sign of nerves than anything else. He curses under his breath and carefully steps back over Len's body.
The lights in the car briefly flicker ... and the Jeff-Thing reappears, standing a mere couple of feet in front of Screwball.
Screwball's heart skips a beat. It's an odd sensation bordering on unpleasant. He cries out and turns for the end door. Despite it being dark, he finds the handle straight away.
Is that the Jeff-Thing breathing down his neck, or is it his imagination ?
He squeezes himself into the next car and holds the door tightly shut behind him. He peers through one of the glass panels. The lights in the adjacent car momentarily flicker, highlighting the Jeff-Thing standing in the open doorway and staring ahead through its weird reptile eyes. Its mouth opens wide and what looks like hundreds of small insects pour from the black void.
Not insects, but spiders .
Screwball gives a panicked cry and holds the door as tightly shut as he can. The only thing he finds more terrifying than Clarabell the fucking clown is spiders. He looks down at the floor. It's too dark to see anything, but he imagines the arachnids have gotten past the gap between cars and are somehow flooding under the door. He rapidly stomps his feet.
“ Stanley .”
Screwball stops stomping. Someone just said his name from the other side of the door.
“Stanley, you there?”
The voice is unmistakeably his father's. But Screwball's father didn't raise no fool, so the obvious question is: how in the hell could Joseph Eugene Jacobs be on the other side of this door when just moments before it was a spider-spewing monster?
“I ain't lettin' go of this door,” Screwball says. “Whatever you are, it ain't workin'.” He looks through one of the windows. There's no sign of anyone or anything.
“Stanley, open the door. You gotta let me through.”
“The hell I do,” Screwball replies. “You ain't my dad, and even if you were, I hate you.”
“Stanley, you gotta understand, we moved to New York for you. There was nothing for you back home. We gave you a golden opportunity."
"You didn't gimme shit. You made me and Mom move here because you wanted to be closer to that airline whore you was screwin' - and stop calling me Stanley. You know how I hate it.”
No reply.
Screwball looks through the window again. “Hey, you still there?”
The lights in the car briefly flicker .
“Screwy, it's Wiley. Open the door.”
Screwball doesn't so much as twitch.
“Screwy, open the goddamn door. It's insane out here.”
“I can't see you - how do I know you're you?”
“For fucksake, Stan, Amanda is after me. She's not human. She's killing everyone. Now open the fuckin' door or I'm gonna die!”
“I still can't see you.” Screwball says. “You gotta try and lemme see your face.”
A few seconds pass, after which, Wiley's unmistakable silhouette appears in the doorway opposite.
Screwball sighs with relief and pulls open the door. “Man, thank Christ it's-”
The LCD information and notice displays spring to life and the lights in the car begin to flicker rapidly.
Screwball's blood turns to ice and his skin goes all prickly. It isn't Wiley standing in the opposite doorway, it's the Jeff-Thing, and it looks like a living abomination. It steps into the car and holds onto either side of the door frame. Its fingernails are now so very long.
“Do you want to know why your father ran off with a whore?” it says in a baleful tone. “He did it because you were the result of his seed, and
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