How a dark Horse Saved the Millennium or All Things Must Pass...
"Michael rolled and lost. Again. And again.
"Double down?" Laughed the red faced man.
Michael grunted, grimaced, he was always a grim man and not much of a gambler.
"Okay..."
Snake eyes smiled.
"Again?" The red man grinned. "What will ye wager?"
This was wrong but Michael was mad. Michael's madness muddled his mind. The red man knew this.
"Well Big Boy? Play or run away?" Fangs grinned.
'What do ye wish, ye bat winged bastard?"
"Oh not much...a world wide computer crash. A panic. A pandemonium. Violence. Murder. Mayhem. Just one more Saturday night...but if your done your done." Razor nailed long fingers grabbed the dice.
"No" Michael smashed the tabled the red man winced. "One more roll..."
The red man picked his yellow tooth with a black finger.
"The bet is a Beatle. If he wins? Peace and happiness and no disturbing... all that silly shit ye love so very, very much. The Beatle bites it pandemonium and terror on the land? Are we on big boy?"
Michael was in a rage. He shouldn't do this. But in eternity what was a day, what was a decade, what was a millennium, by gosh things got boring some times in eternity and what were they but toys....
"Your on asshole." He said knowing he was in trouble win or lose.
The red man grinned and rolled the dice. My man is on the way is all he said
George wasn't really worried about the computer crash or the millennium end times terror or most anything. All he wanted was a quiet night at home with his beloved and a safe millennium eve.
He smoked. He shouldn't. He thought of John. He shouldn't. He thought of fate and death. He shouldn't. He thought how quick it all bloody went. He shouldn't.
He thought of the rolling Ganges. The eternal river of souls. He should think of that.
He tried so very hard.
He relaxed.
Still he paced. It was late. It was bedtime.
He sat bedside smoking. Too much smoking.
Were the sixties that far gone?
Damn the trip was quick.
He looked at his wife she was lovely.
A noise.
Unnatural. A smash. No guards.
Had to be something falling, he thought heart racing.
Another crash. Things falling. His things falling.
A voice. A man. A strange man. In his house. In the darkness. The darkness...
"Someones here." He whispers those dreaded words to his wife in the dark. "In the house..."
More smashing. More heart racing. Not this, not now....
"Call the police..."
Down the steps. Heart racing, Adrenalin worse then any concert. Don't pee. Don't have a heart attack, don't die. Fight, flight, fight, flight, fight, flight, no where to go....
"Who?" he asks
"Die!" the voice answers from the dark.
A mad face. Slobber. A knife slashing his hand. Oh John. A madman. Blood flying, Rolling mad curses. Mad words. Stop! More stabs. Scratch the bastard. Stop!
Save my wife, save my life. Blood on the walls.
Pain. Blood. Mad, mean devil eyes.
"Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!" Help me Hara Krishna.
Rolling on bloody broken glass. Did he bite me? Must stop the knife. Hit him, oh it hurts. Oh another madman, why John, why? What did we ever do?
On his feet swinging the mad man slashing laughing crying. Nooo! Yesss! Whyyy!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna! Stop him somehow but it hurts, sweet lord it hurts, and I'm tired.
My wife fighting, crawling, clawing, screaming, ripping, must not go down. She won't.
The madman comes on. Slashing. Oh my sweet lord we are both doomed, done, dead. We are going to die here! Noooo!
The mad man for a moment seemed a snarling seven foot demon.
Blink. Bite. Grab the knife. Save my life. Save my wife.
Grab the knife.
Blood. Blood, Blood. More blood. Mine. His. Mine. Hers. Mine. Johns. Why?
How did it all end like this? Just like John...
She's hitting him. Hard. A poker. Screaming. It hurts, he's bloody down, the bastard.. he's down. She still swings.
The bloody bastard. Why?
She screams swinging blood covered, blood flying. Blood splattering.
The demon moans no. The demon wails. The demon says stoppppp!
Not a demon but a bloody mad man.
Sirens.
Shouts.
Cops.
Ambulance.
John.
A siren. His last song. Our last song. Is that a sitar somewhere?
Our last song a siren song somehow. Somewhere. Fuck he needed a smoke.
Strapped. Rocked and rolled. Voices screaming. Blood and badness.
Who would have thought it ended like this.
Later.
Voices from the hallway.
"Sometimes it pays being married to a super model she swung that damn poker like a bloody baseball player...."
"I worked security in the sixties. Who ever would have thought we go from Meet the Beatles to Kill the bloody Beatles. Strange fuckin' times...my man strange bloody fucking times"
"All we need is love, eh? Fuckin unreal...And he was the fuckin' peaceful one? Fuck Ringo will out live 'em all."
"So's it goes. Happy New Year anyways...."
"Sames..what a bloody millennium it will be, eh?"
"So I fears...a bloody one, but" Glasses clink. "Cheers!"
"But we made it! Cheers!"
"To you, George, and the bloody Beatles...all ye need is love, eh?"
"And a supermodel with a bloody baseball swing..."
"Ain't that the bloody truth. Well Ringo has that Bond girl so maybe that's why they don't fuck so much with him...."
"Why don't they bugger the Stones?"
"Well the bloody Stones have sympathy for the devil...."
Laughter, glasses clinking, laughter....fading.
Dice thrown. Anger.
"Always a poor sport...?" Michael grins. "Always have to be the bastard..."
"Fuck off..." The red man crumbles the dice to dust, scatters them to the forlorn stars. "You got fucking lucky. Usually you don't get lucky...Don't ye have to get home to master? Isn't he gonna whip his favorite dog if he finds out how ye be fucking around? "
"Mister lucky" Michael grinned. "How's luck treated ye of late?"
"Tomorrows another day, tomorrows another play..." The red man flickered a finger and spark a seegar. Then he began to laugh and laugh and laugh.....
"I'll be seeing you...." he said as Michael spun away. "I'll be seeing ya soon...."
"Tell 'em where ya got it...." The red man blew smoke upwards. "Tell 'em the fun ye had.....hahahahahahahahha"
--
It's all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon long ago
