Dead Dogs Don't Roll Over
Written by: Alex Sandell


Chapter 45
Thank God It's Saliva

"So now what?" I ask Lisa, nervously. "I’m just ‘sposed to stay here, with death-threats hanging over my head, people in masks spanking me, some dead Dalmatian that decides I need a watchdog, a gay angel that’s got a thing for my butt, and a friend who’s been murdered, comes back as a spirit, and puts reality on pause?" "I don’t know if I was murdered, Wayne." "Oh, that’s great," I respond, "there’s still all this ‘you have to take it on faith’ crap, even in Heaven?" "I’m not in Heaven," is Lisa’s only response. I wait a few seconds, to see if she’ll say anything more, before I continue. "They still make you take everything on faith, even on the 11th level, or whatever you call it?" "You don’t get all the answers until your soul reaches the top level of immortality. I can tell you that Leroy’s only one of the gatekeepers to Limbo, not an angel. But, boy is he sexy. Why are all the good looking spirits gay?" "I don’t know," I answer, "I thought looks didn’t matter in the afterlife." Lisa ignores me.

"Anyway," I continue, "what do I do when Richard comes and writes me up for throwing my change apron on the floor?" "Richard won’t know you threw it," Lisa returns. "Well, if Richard doesn’t notice, the cameras will catch it. I’m pretty sure Elvis, or whoever the fuck’s running this place, isn’t gonna be too happy about somebody throwing an apron full of their money onto the floor, for just any person to grab." "Go pick it up." "Pick what up?" I ask, "My apron?" "Yes, put all the change together, pick it up, wrap it around your waist, and go on with your day. No one will ever know that you threw it."

Somehow, I still have my doubts. "You just paused time, right?" Lisa agrees. "So, even if I do go pick up the apron and junk, they’re still gonna see me throw it down, before time stops. They’ll just wonder how in the hell I picked it up so damn quick." Lisa smiles, "you need to be a little more trusting, Wayne. I’ll simply restart time a minute before you dropped your apron." "Then you would actually be sending me back in time?!?" "Exactly." "But, you’d screw up the space-time continuum. At least that’s what they say in ‘Back to the Future.’" Lisa shakes her head in disbelief. "What?" I ask. "I can’t believe you’ve always doubted the credibility of the bible, but you have no problem believing in ‘Back to the Future.’" "Yeah but, the bible’s not real." I respond. "Neither is ‘Back to the Future.’" I keep my mouth shut, she has a point.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, and I start feeling weird about having nothing to say to a ghost. "So," I ask, "do you still get your period, after you die?" I can’t believe this was the best I could do. Lisa rolls her eyes, "I can see some people never change." "Sorry, I just wanted to break the silence." "I’ll restart your world, then." Lisa returns, while extending her arms. "WAIT!" I yell, "not yet. I have to do something." Lisa puts her arms back down and asks what I have to do. "Just give me a second," I yell, while running across the casino. I run past the women’s bathroom, nearly stopping, just out of curiosity, but decide that would be too perverted. I run past the buffet, full of people, most frozen with a glob of half chewed meat in their mouth. Past a fat-lady with a smile on her face, spoon of ice cream hanging slightly out of reach, looking almost as though it’s taunting her. Past a young couple making out by an ashtray. Running past each frozen moment in these people’s lives, until I find the one frozen moment I’m looking for, Richard’s.

There he is, my main reason for hating life, my anti-Christ, Richard. And here I am, wide-awake, with a large glob of spit in my mouth, and there’s nothing he can do about it. I smile when I see him, frozen there, notepad in one hand, pen in the other, forever ready to write somebody up. "You motherfucker," I whisper, under my breath. "You son-of-a-bitch." My voice getting louder. "You cocksucking ASSHOLE!!!" I scream, stand back, suck in some air, and spit. I spit with more force than I ever have before. I can’t believe the amount of saliva I let build up inside of my mouth, while running. I laugh when I watch it running down his face. Working its way over the bridge of his nose, dripping down his lips, past his chin, and dribbling onto his uniform.

"Had your fun, Wayne?" Lisa pulls me from my temporal-ecstasy. "Could I kick him, please?" "No," Lisa responds, as she hands me my change apron, "you’ve done enough." "At least don’t make me wipe it up, before taking him off pause." "Okay, you’ve got a deal. I’m going to send you back now, Wayne. Make sure you’ve got your belt on right." Lisa stops, her eyes scanning the casino, once again. "Anything else you need, before I go?" A million things fly through my head, but they all seem to get stuck on the tip of my tongue. "Nothing that I can think of," I say. Lisa raises her hands up, I see a large flash of light, and suddenly everything’s back to normal. Bells are ringing, people are coughing, cash-machines are busy spitting out money for eager customers to throw away.

I look down and make sure my apron is firmly attached. Thanks to Lisa, I actually got to time-travel, not to mention, spit on Richard. I smile, and start selling change.

Go to: Chapter 46

1997 Alex Sandell but, if you're a book publisher and, you wanna get this puppy out, please get in touch with me, hand me a nice, big contract and, of course, a 12 pack of Grape Soda and maybe we can do lunch.

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