“You OK dear?” Rita nodded while taking her drink in the VIP room. The average person might never have guessed that Robert Bloch, author of gruesome tales in a career that spanned decades, was such a sweet old man. She had known Robert for a while, but she didn’t know the big guy standing next to him. She’d seen him in the crowd sitting next to Bloch during the panel. He didn’t say anything, but just stood there looking at her. “Don’t feel bad,” Bloch said, “the studio rejected my idea of having the Devil fight Jack the Ripper!”
Tonight, she didn’t mind Robert’s cornball humor. Bloch often joked about his frequent use of the Whitechapel slasher in his own fiction. She coyly responded, “So, will the Devil go back in time, or will Jack come to the future?”
“Oh, bring Back to the Future into it!” Bloch’s eyes lit up at the impromptu crossover pitch, “That’s a great idea.” Everyone in the VIP turned and looked to see the horror author comedically stretch out his arms and shout, “88 Miles Per Hour!” Robert’s tense looking friend cracked a smile at the author’s clownery.
“Thanks, I needed that.” Rita said. “How’s Elly?” she asked, referring to the author’s wife.
“She’s great. Probably spending all the money I made on from my new novel!”
Rita knew he was just kidding; Robert and Elly had a lovely marriage of almost 30 years. Rita also knew that this longtime author had a real smash hit these days with his latest book. “I read Psycho!” Rita said, refferng to Bloch’s newest novel. “Such a great story, and what a twist ending! What inspired you to write that?” By the time she finished the question she could see the look of hesitancy on the face of her friend. His mysterious companion also seemed affected by the mention of this subject. He seemed to revert back to his nervous demeanor, his head turned downward, almost as if in shame. Robert simply said “Uh… it’s a long story.”
“Okay we’ll it was nice talking to you. Thanks for checking on me.” Rita said before sitting down at a table in the back of the room. Taking a seat, she could see Robert and his friend speaking to each other, both of them gave a couple glances her way. She wondered what the big guy’s deal was. Didn’t matter, she supposed. Turning her attention to the television hanging from the wall, CNN aired news about the upcoming election. Arkansas governor Bill Clinton was polling ahead of the incumbent Bush. A year ago, Bush was a shoe in to get re-elected. “What a difference a year makes.” she thought to herself.
Taking a drink, she she looked over and saw Bloch’s friend approaching. He moved slowly, almost crawling like a turtle. It didn’t look like he was in good shape, in fact it seemed just this short walk was making him sweat.
Now standing before her, he finally spoke. “I’m George.” He said. “I used to go to film school here in New York. I’m back in school actually.”
“OK.”
“I hung out in the computer room a lot when I first started university.” George said. “I used to use their computer room when they had these chat rooms over a network. I chatted with people about all kinds of stuff.” She wondered why he was sharing all this, but she kept listening. “I frequented alt.slashermovies.”
Rita drew a breath as she remembered that chat room. She used it a few times to talk to fans. She also remembered the kinds of interactions she had. It was then he revealed it. He said it quick, his words scattering out of his mouth like a gunshot.
“I was #1Devilfan.”
Gasping at the sound of that name, she immediately scanned her environment. They were way in the back of the room. An empty table sat to her right, and this man was in front of her. She could probably rush past him if need be. He didn’t look very strong, but he was big. She remained motionless for the moment and awaited his next move.
“I said some pretty awful things in those forums. I don’t know if you remember but..”
She zoned out after “some pretty awful things.” She remembered perfectly well the exact words she’d read in that forum, and even now, they still made her skin crawl.
He was still talking when she zoned back in and recalled out loud. “You called me an idiotic bitch.” Now he wasn’t speaking anymore. “You said I only got the job because I inhaled every executive’s cock in Hollywood. Tell me pal, do you still wish you were a Hollywood Executive so you can get ‘blown by all the bitches?”
His eyes looked downward like a child caught doing something bad. Beads of sweat fell from his forehead.
“So, did you come here to blow my brains out like you said you would if you ‘ever saw ’that stupid cunt face to face.”
He appeared surprised at how she did in fact remember every single word that he wrote. “I, I wanted to..to,” he stammered, Rita wondered how he would finish this sentence. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Oh, your sorry.” A million thoughts poured through her mind about her experience in fandom, of her experience in society in general. “You know how many times I get called a fake fan because I have tits? You know how often I hear properties with aliens and giant robots being considered ‘mainstream’, but anything I pitch is considered ‘too niche, and…”
Now the man’s demeanor changed, just for a moment he appeared to be growing impatient. “Look,” he interrupted, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Oh, so I owe you something do I?” Now she rose to her feet, her anger boiling within her, but also within her was the knowledge that if she screamed at him people would assume she was a “crazy bitch,” while if he screamed at her some fans would applaud.
“You know, I have a friend who reviews films for the LA times,” Rita said, taking a different approach. “They literally get death threats for not giving glowing reviews of the latest sci-fi movie.”
“What film didn’t he like?” he asked.
“What film didn’t SHE like.”
George gulped and was still sweating profusely. Granting some relief from this verbal thrashing, she turned her attention back to the television. They were still covering the upcoming election. Normally she could have cared less about politics, she was intrigued to how the public took to Clinton’s wife. “I’m not sitting here, some little woman standing by her man like Tammy Wynette,” Hillary Clinton said on 60 Minutes, referencing the country music singer and her hit, “Stand By Your Man.” While Bill Clinton polled well, it was interesting how some were concerned about Hillary’s potential influence on the presidency. As if no one was ever influenced by their wife before.
“In high school I was on the debate club.” Rita remembered aloud, still watching the TV. “One day we debated whether a woman should President. Something out of fantasy-land right?” she said shaking her head. “I was told women were too emotional to be President. I still think about that sometimes. People say women are too emotional, but have you ever told a man you don’t like his favorite,” she then paused, turning her head directly at George. She let him wait for her to conclude her sentence. Eventually, she finished that sentence with one word. “…anything?”
She let that word hang in the air, and could tell it was registering. He remained silent as she continued to stare him down. Finally, he meekly broke the silence. “I got carried away, and… well, I just wanted to tell you, I know I got carried away.”
“Got carried away.” Rita said like a stern mother. “Well, let me tell you Mr. George, if you ever get “carried away” again, if you ever treat a woman,” she then stopped herself before restating, “if you ever treat anyone,” halting at that word before finishing, “like that again, I will personally see to it that you never come near a film set.”
Rita left him standing there as she turned away. She didn’t storm out of the room, but she walked out with confidence. Robert saw her on the way out. Presuming he’d probably watched the whole incident that just took place, she remained silent, only giving a confident nod as she passed him.
Back at her hotel room, curling up in her pajamas, she thought about those message forums she used via her computer. Another current topic in the news was the emergence of the internet. The information superhighway some called it. #1Devilfan may have been one of the most vile posters on those forums, but he wasn’t the only one that said awful things to people. Pondering the possibilities this new technology would bring to fandom, she hoped that in time people would behave better once they were wired in; but somehow, she knew that wouldn’t be the case.
The End
Come back in a few days for more No Gein Leftovers. Next, a new tale from the pages of No Gein II. Clarice, The First Taste!
Hard Coal Studios 