The Curator of Schlock
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The Curator of Schlock #443: The Car
Edwige, my steadfast kangaroo companion, and I were interrogating a punk resembling Waldo from Where’s Waldo?. I slapped him until he confessed the whereabouts of the Revenging Manta, the ninja vigilante of downtown Orlando. “Okay—okay,” he said, spitting up blood. “They’re holding him in The Beyond exhibit.” “One more thing,” I said, Edwige and I giving him a Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #442: The Christmas Tapes
The punk I named Waldo was passed out. Edwige, my kangaroo companion from my misadventures in North America, had punched him in the sweet spot. I took a can of Mellow Yellow I retrieved from the Cold Drinks machine on the second floor of the Museum of Schlock. I shook the can vigorously, popped the Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #441: Hell House LLC
I crept up to the red and white beanie poking out among the mannequins from the movie The Warriors. When I saw the hat within arm’s reach, I leaped toward Waldo, only to see that the punk had stuck his hat atop one of the chrome domes belonging to the Turnbull ACs. I heard the punk’s Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #440: The Last Broadcast
Edwige, my kangaroo companion from my misadventures in North America, and I were searching for Waldo among rows upon rows of The Warriors movie gang mannequins. I kept seeing his striped shirt out of the corner of my eye. Edwige huffed in frustration and I was about to give up the search when I saw the pom Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #439: Noiro: The Curse
Noiro: The Curse Several years ago, I took great pride in having a display created in celebration of the movie The Warriors, like my own Terracotta Army, but with The Warriors. And mixed in with them was a real life punk in blue jeans, a red and white striped shirt, Coke-bottle glasses, and a red and Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #438: Cannibal Holocaust
Cannibal Holocaust The punk I’d nicknamed Waldo made a beeline for the Museum of Schlock’s The Warriors exhibit. Edwige, my loyal kangaroo companion, hopped in close pursuit. I stumbled along, still reeling from getting spray painted in the face. By the time I got there, Edwige stood in stone silence. The showpiece of The Warriors display was a hall Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #437: Intruder
I pinned the punk resembling Waldo from Where’s Waldo? down. I hoped to extract the whereabouts of the Revenging Manta, the ninja vigilante of downtown Orlando. The punk snorted and pursed his lip. Suddenly a stream of spit doused my face. I was about to smack across his cheeks when green spray burned my eyes. The punk Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #436: Army of Darkness
Army of Darkness The punk resembling Waldo from Where’s Waldo? grabbed his behind while Edwige, my steadfast kangaroo companion, feasted on the punk’s bag of Smarties. I kicked him in the shins and he crumpled to the floor. “Where did they take the Revenging Manta?” I said, attempting to pin him to the ground. “More importantly, who Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #435: The Evil Dead II
Watching a wax statue of James Mason getting defaced by a punk dressed as Where’s Waldo was enough to make me wish I was carrying a Wildey magnum to send this dirtbag straight to hell. But then I realized I had a kangaroo at my side and that was better than any gun. “Look, Edwige! Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #434: The Evil Dead
Edwige, my steadfast kangaroo companion, followed a trail of Smarties through the Supergirl exhibit. A spray-painted smile covered the face of a bust of Helen Slater. As we entered The Kidnap Syndicate exhibit, I heard the rattle of metal as some punk wearing blue jeans, a red and white striped shirt, and a red and white pom pom beanie, Continue reading
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The Drunken Odyssey is a forum to discuss all aspects of the writing process, in a variety of genres, in order to foster a greater community among writers.
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