How To Kick Your Incubus Out Of Bed

Nat texted me one night with a wink smiley. “Joe is keeping me awake. He won’t let me sleep.”
I winked back. I didn’t know who Joe was but I guessed he wouldn’t last long with Natalie. She reeled them in, then let them go. Sometimes they didn’t want to go, and sometimes she didn’t want them to go, but I had my own nocturnal problems to worry about.
I was woken at 3 a.m, by a bald headed creature on top of me. It was naked with pasty skin that looked as if it had never seen the light of day. It had a untamed mono eyebrow, but on the upside, its little pot belly hid any trace of the genitals…if it had any. Thankfully, and for reasons unknown, the main man of this hideous creature was blessedly absent.
This thing had been in my nightmares for several years now. I had never caught it in the act, until now, when I’d woken up and there it was, sitting high up on my stomach, its little legs and feet splayed out, like the way a toddler might sit on the floor, as he played with his toys.
Now that I was awake, I could see that it was clawing at my chest, yes there. It was exactly as a cat kneads away at a human lap, with yellow claws at the end of huge hairy paddle like paws, way out of proportion to the rest of its body. It’s lips bled out of the lines slightly, like the red lipstick daubed senior citizen on Bingo Night. That mouth sucked the very life energy from mine leaving me feeling breathless, drained, weak and assaulted every time. While I’d been unconscious and helpless, I’d never known what that feeling of suffocation was, until now. I always thought the duvet was wrapped around my throat, choking me somehow, but every time I woke up, I was never caught up in anything.
Now I was looking into its eyes and I couldn’t look away. It looked like the creature had been deprived of sleep for years, judging by the dark blue shadows under its eyes. All the while, it was doing the kneading thing that cats do, it absolutely transfixed me with its feral yet intelligent stare. I realised I couldn’t move. I was paralysed under its primitive but powerful gaze.Then, I began to fight, I fought with my mind and my body and with every fibre in my being, I fought against that creature but I was pinned to the pillow by a great weight.
Then all of a sudden it was gone. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I lay there, for what seemed like hours, in the darkness, trying to get my breath back. Even though I was no longer under its disgusting little frame, I couldn’t move a muscle. I tried. It was as if I’d been injected with a immobilising poison that took its time to wear off.
Eventually, it did wear off and the next day, I walked into a church. To my embarrassment, my hand was clammy as the deacon shook it. “I need help.” I whispered. We went somewhere quiet to talk. Afterwards, he scribbled a prayer on some paper and gave it to me. “You’re being visited by a type of demonic entity called an incubus.” he said. “They appear for all sorts of reasons. They can also be sent by your enemies as a form of attack. The only way to get rid of it is to pray it away in the Name of Jesus Christ.”
“Will it work?” I asked.
He smiled as if I’d said something funny. “If you do it in His Name, yes.”
Before I went to bed, I read the prayer out loud.
I woke up at 3 a.m, as usual but this time I wasn’t suffocating, or paralysed. Instead there was a knocking from inside my wardrobe. I switched on the light and looked inside. Cowering in the corner was my incubus. He didn’t look quite so frightening any more, more like a little old man and without the paralysis and the terror that went with it, I was emboldened. “What are you doing here?” I was surprised to find that for once, I was angry rather than afraid, and I could talk. I was normally unable to when under attack. “I prayed you away today. I was told it would definitely work.” I began to say the prayer again out loud.
The creature flinched. “No, don’t. Don’t!” It put its large paddled paws to its head as if it had a headache and closed its eyes. “The prayer did work.” rasped the demon. “I was returned to the one who sent me, but I got lost on the way back. It happens sometimes when I have to learn a new route. I’ve never been very good at directions and I’m not going to ask the others.”
I didn’t ask who the others were.
“It’s embarrassing.” continued the incubus. “I have my pride to think about.”
“I bet you do. Did someone send you?”
“Humans are so petty.” said the demon.
I asked again but it just stared at me with those half ferocious, half thoughtful piercing eyes and before I could fall into the hypnotic blue, I recited the prayer again. The incubus winced as if in pain and disappeared.
A few weeks later, I was at Nat’s house. Until then, I’d never really paid much attention to her black candles and voodoo doll all stuck with pins. I picked the doll up. It looked a bit like me. “I hope you’re not cursing me.” I said half jokingly. She reddened, snatched the doll out of my hand and changed the subject quickly. “Hey guess what, I finally dumped Joe.”
“Joe.” I said, vaguely remembering the text. “Oh yes, that new guy who won’t let you sleep. ”
“He serviced my car and don’t you remember him smiling at you?”
I shook my head. “You smiled back.” she said. “I thought you were both having a moment there in the garage…but…well, it’s official, it was me he fancied after all.” she said smugly. “I think I only went out with him because…well…I’m competitive, as you know.”
“The man who serviced your car?” I couldn’t even remember what he looked like under all that motor oil, but Nat did and had thought I liked him. I remembered the demons words. ‘Humans can be so petty.’
Yes and jealous too and complete bitches to boot. Who needs friends when…
“Well, it’s over now.” she said with a sigh. “We’re not as compatible as I thought we were. He spent far too much time under those cars of his.” It was then I noticed that Natalie was looking very tired and drawn lately, absolutely exhausted, a shadow of the girl she used to be. It’s as though, I thought, she’s been up all night, as if she hasn’t had a decent kip for weeks, as if someone, or something, just won’t let her sleep….

© Sue Young

Whatever Happened To…Gene Wilder

Gene_Wilder_1970

There are actors and there are, sorry, there is, Gene Wilder. He stands out in my mind, always has done, since I first saw him in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) when I was a kid. I’m not putting down the Bratt Pitt’s of this world, they have a place too, but there really is something special about Gene Wilder.

He started life as Jerome Silberman, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin born to a Russian Jewish immigrant father and a Russian Jewish descent mother. His first movie role was as a hostage in Bonnie & Clyde. (1967). Wilder is best known, or should be best known for his movies with director/producer/actor Mel Brooks. Mel Brooks is a creative inspiration. He was an influence to me, as a thirteen years old, who constantly imbibed his movies at that age. I must say at this point, many thanks to our next door neighbours who had all his films AND a video recorder in 1982. I didn’t have drugs or sex but I went somewhere other teenagers in my town never would have had the chance to go. I will never forget how blessed I was, much appreciated.

I use the word genius sometimes when talking about Mel Brooks but we all know the term is overused and most times, not deservedly so.  When we ascribe the word ‘genius’ to someone, we are really describing out favourite pudding, which is very subjective and self indulgent, a pleasure best taken alone and with a bib.

Wilder’s breakthrough role was his sublime interpretation of Leo Bloom in Mel Brook’s The Producers (1968) He was also in Blazing Saddles (1974) Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother (1975)  If you haven’t seen Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother, you haven’t lived. I would not want you to leave this world without a verse or two and certainly a chorus, of Kangaroo Hop jumping through your mind and eye. It makes drugs, alcohol and fine food permanently unfashionable in comparison.

Young Frankenstein (1974) is another must see, more so, actually, a very funny, well acted, well directed, well produced movie, which I recommend wholeheartedly. If you haven’t already seen it, it should be on your Bucket List, needs to be.

Gene also did some great movies with that comic genius, (Ooh, let’s not go there, favourite pudding) Richard Pryor, an extremely talented but tortured comic if ever there was one.

Wilder collaborated  with Pryor on Silver Streak. (1976) I audio taped this from T.V, at age thirteen, about a year before dad was able to afford a video recorder. Oh gosh, I sound old but I  listened to it, over and over, on that little tinny tape recorder. I had to resort to imagining the visuals each time. Sad I know, but we worked for our pleasure in those days.

Wilder also acted with Pryor on Stir Crazy (1980), Hear No Evil, See No Evil (1989) and Another You (1991).

Gene also  directed and starred in his own movies including ‘Woman In Red, (1984) and Haunted Honeymoon (1986) which he also wrote, along with Terence Marsh.

Gene Wilder has also written an autobiography entitled ‘Kiss Me Like A Stranger‘ and also several novels including, ‘My French Whore: A Love Story.’

But we’re not getting anywhere here, are we really? It’s all very fine to talk about and reminiscence over the greatness that was Gene Wilder’s past but what about his present, as an 82 year old man, what is Gene doing now?

Well, he starred in two episodes of Will and Grace  as Mr. Stein in 1998 but he was also a voice over in Yo Gabba Gabba as Elmer, as recent as 2015, so he’s still keeping his hand in.

The thing is, Gene has been there and done that. He’s an octogenarian, probably wanting a bit of peace and quiet. Well, it’s not uncommon at that age. Whatever he does now in the celebrity world, he does because he wants to. I always wanted to act with Gene Wilder. He was my silly girlish fantasy in those terms because there was something intrinsically human and innocent in his performances, as well as passionate of course. I always thought his passion burst out of him during his roles, but he hadn’t actually meant for it to get so out there, so out of control. He’s an actor who, after the final take, might or might not be genuinely surprised and shocked at the depth of his own emotion. I could never imagine that, after his performances, he could ever think otherwise. He was so natural and dare I say, so full of volcanic sexual tension, that his performance could never be premeditated. I don’t see that in the actors of today but maybe I’m looking in the wrong places.

Let’s take something as simple as his role in Willy Wonka. My mother recently, unexpectedly, and treacherously declared, that she preferred the remake. Astounded, I asked her how, why and when? She just said she liked it better. While I love Johnny Depp to bits and think he’s an awesome actor, I did not rate the remake.

Let’s look at The Tunnel Scene that Marilyn Manson spoofs so wonderfully with his Dope Hat musical version, a fitting, if not slightly more macabre tribute to the original film. It works but what works more is Gene Wilder’s performance, which no doubt helped inspired ‘Dope Hat’. His acting is unpredictable, exciting, terrifying, psychopathic, passionate, chaotic but most of all, authentic. These are all the things that maybe an actor should be, yet not as a person should be and I think that encompasses Gene Wilder, a beautiful, serene and thoughtful person off camera and an incredibly powerful and unique actor on camera. While I’m still not sure exactly what happened to Gene Wilder, I believe, hope, think and trust, that he will always be that.

 

 

 

Evil Twin

I had known my evil twin had been around for a while. Strangers had been staring at me and whispering for years, looking terrified and disgusted at the same time, as if I’d done some unspeakable act.

Then one day, while buying some milk at my local store, I ran into the bitch. I was trembling and sweating as I hurried home. She was already sitting there, with her hand on my husbands knee. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him and somehow younger than usual. She was smiling in that confident, self assured way, that I’d never known when I looked into the mirror.

My husband stood up quickly.He was suddenly in a panic to see the two of us. If I’d have been gone any longer, maybe the unthinkable would have happened. It wasn’t a long haul to the bedroom. After he had calmed down a little and was up to speed on the situation, he went into the kitchen. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. (He’s British) We’ll sort this out when I get back.”

My twin approached me. Even though we were wearing the same clothes, hers somehow looked better.She walked like a model, shoulders back, head held high.

She read my mind. “I’m surprised he hasn’t seen the differences already. I love my life but you’re afraid of it. You’re weighed down with the cares of the world and closed off from the joys of it. You are always trying to squeeze into the smallest darkest space, like a mouse, in a hole.”

I ran to my defence, with a shrug. “I always thought I was okay.”

She chuckled. “Okay, yes. Nice, yes. If you had more balls like me, you’d be a Cinderella that actually went to the ball, instead of sitting at home, poking the coals.”

“Poking the coals is underrated.” I said. My husband returned from the kitchen. He downed his steaming hot tea in one go. (I don’t know how he does that).”Okay, which one of you is my wife?”

There was a silence. She looked at me as if to say, ‘He’ll never believe you. I’ve already done the ground work.” The only sound at that moment was my heart breaking as I looked at his kind and beautiful face.

If, by some supernatural event, I’d been forced to swap places and was now the evil twin, anything was possible. I did not have the confines of my other moral self to worry about. So now, I had only one decision to make. What unspeakable act should I commit first?

It was time to kill myself.

I moved towards her, staring at her lily white neck and flexing my bare hands. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them. My husband jumped up and ran into my arms. I saw my evil twin visibly wither, until, with a contorted, twisted and bitter look on her face, she disappeared into thin air.

“She won’t be bothering us again.” he said.

I looked at him in surprise. “How did you know?”

“It was just one thing, one physical difference to show the true nature, the true condition of the soul, something that couldn’t be disguised, one thing she was unable to hide or deceive me by. It was the eyes.”

 

© Sue Young

 

 

 

 

Celebrity Demands

As a top celebrity, I don’t have to explain my dressing room demands to you. I just tell you what I want and you give it to me, okay?

Do I make myself clear? Am I being too much of a diva? What did you say? I can read lips you know. You just called me a spoilt bitch. Oh yes you did. What? I misheard? There’s been a hitch? Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. What’s the hitch?

No crates of beer? Now you listen to me, get me that beer or your name will be history in this town. Do you hear me – history! What was that? Oh, you’ll get me what I want. Now that’s more like it. That makes sense. Smart move.

Well now. Let’s see. I’d like champagne, a crate of beer for the crew. I love my crew. I love them like children. I want a four poster bed with red silk sheets scattered with rose petals, orchids in each corner of the room, a bag of toiletries…

(She went on and on, and eventually..)

Ah, I see you brought everything, the bed, the sheets, the orchids. Now get out. I vant to be alone. Did you hear what I said? I said it with a ‘V’, that’s serious. We’re not kidding around here.

My, my, you are a cheeky one.Well, normally, I’d have security take you by the scruff of the neck and haul you out of here for such talk but I do like gophers with spirit, preferably whiskey and coke. Ha ha. I said ha ha! I made a joke, you idiot – laugh!

There, that’s more like it. I can see your tonsils. Well done.

Okay, I’ll tell you why I demanded all these things for my dressing room. First of all, I need the alcohol because I’m an alcoholic. I’m a famous artist and most of us are alcohol fuelled because we’re tortured, tortured I tell you! The grape and the grain keep us going.

Now, I need the flowers because I like nature. Nothing beats the sight and smell of fresh flowers. The red bed is there to stimulate me enough so I won’t fall asleep before or after a show. It’s a lounging bed people. Plus, red is hot. My superstar friends will also be suitably stimulated by my red bed. It’ll get them in the party mood for my after show soiree.

Lastly, is the bag of toiletries, toiletry products are a must. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and I want you to think I’m clean but I’m a dirty little thing really. Anyway, I need to be fresh at least before and after my show.

There. I’ve told you now, satisfied? I’ll give you the rest of the dawn off because I’m such a generous person. What? Wait! What did you just call me? Oh, a cult!

Awww, that’s very sweet of you. I do believe I’m one of the biggest cults in the business.

 

© Sue Young

 

 

Odd Socks & Autographs

Once again, I’d taken the socks out of the dryer and found an odd one. I told myself, this time, I wouldn’t get frustrated or annoyed. This time I would know where the odd sock had gone.

I put a micro camera in each of the socks. I would be able to track where any missing sock had gone. I played back the footage from my computer…

Red Sock was astounded. “But I don’t think I’ve got what it takes to be a star.”

“Nonsense” said Rough Wool Khaki Sock. “We’ll train you up. Besides, that bright red colour of yours, is just what we’re looking for.”

Red Sock gulped. “But…I had a partner.”

“Oh yes.” said Rough Wool Khaki Sock. “That’s true. We come in pairs, but you’re in the real world now. You’re not a pair any more.”

“But we belong together!” wailed Red Sock in a panic.

Rough Wool Khaki Sock sighed and put his ribbed cuff around Red’s shoulders. His voice became a soothing whisper. “Look, that other red sock of yours isn’t as good as you. He is faded, was left out on the window sill on a summers day. He can’t hack it. There’s nothing we can do for him now. He’ll probably end up in an old socks home. Now, do you want to be a star or not?”

“Of course I want to be a star.”

“Well then, follow me into the Academy. It’s this way.”

As Rough Wool Khaki Sock hopped away, Red Sock escaped and fled into the dryer, where he found one damp, depressed and slightly faded red sock right at the back of it. He smiled happily and snuggled close. “I’m back!” he said. “I’m so glad we’re together again!”

“So am I.” said Faded Red Sock.

Well, this was puzzling. If the two socks were together, then how come I was sitting there still looking at one red sock. I checked the back of the dryer. there was nothing there. Then I noticed there was still some footage left on the camera…

Slinky Silk Sock wrapped her instep around Faded Red Sock. “You’re just what I’m looking for to be in my new musical ‘Almost Pink’. I’m going to make you a star!”

© Sue Young

 

 

 

 

 

Quote Of The Week

‘Some people believe that by writing down dreams, ambitions and intentions they can come true, because in a way you are sowing a seed into your consciousness, which enables even the smallest intention to take root.’

Toyah Willcox – Diary Of A Facelift