Taxi Cab To Hell

I am leaning against a stop sign in the freezing cold, trying to hail a taxi. 

At least four taxi's have passed me as I drunkenly fumble with the wrong end of a cigarette. 

Slush from the cars, destroy my worn leather boots.

Pieces of tobacco litter my mouth.

The cigarette falls into the street.

I swear and crawl into the street to retrieve it.

An approaching cab, lays on a the horn and floods the scene with its high beams.

I pocket the cigarette as he screams out his window in jibberish.

I ask him if he's vacant and he agrees to take me in.

I slide into the backseat and tell him my address.

The overpowering incense and smell of Funyons makes me gag.

The loud screeching and clanging of middle eastern instruments on the cabbies radio grabs my attention.

On the seat next to me a purple capsule rolls back and forth.

I take it between my fingers and examine it.

My phone begins to vibrate.

The screen reads DEBBIE.

I decline the bitches request and crack the hard exterior of the capsule.

I let its inside dissolve on the tip of my tongue and close my eyes.

There is a hint of watermelon and blood, but I don't care.

The Pakistani Cabbie barks at me about something but all I can hear is his music.

It seems to get louder every time his mouth opens.

The barrage of instruments starts to fade out as horns and a disco beat picks up.

I suddenly feel as if I've been transported into the finale of the movie Xanadu.

The cab stops and is overtaken by 80's chimes.

The song "CherChez Le Femme/Se Si Bon" by Buzzard's Original Savannah Band begins to play.

I begin to sweat profusely but laugh uncontrollably. 

The driver turns toward me.

It's Olivia Newton-John but she does not have a face, just an upside smile.

The backseat doors open by themselves and a crowd of people pile into the seats next to me.

I watch Olivia begin to fade away as the front of the car moves further and further away.

The cab has transformed into a stretch limo, but keeps its tacky interior of torn black leather seats and reek of bad incense.

My new occupants are dressed in their best Studio 54 clothes and being to disco on a multi color dance floor in the middle of the cab.

They beckon me to join them but my legs have stopped working.

I pick one leg up and let it fall to the floor.

It starts to melt.

I do the same with the other, but it produces the same result.

Suddenly I am just an upper torso.

A cocktail waitress approaches with two mechanical legs and screws them into my body.

I wince at the temperature of the steel, but otherwise feel no pain.

She tells me to stand.

When I do my body floats toward the dance floor, but glides right over it.

Everyone below waves and cheers.

Attached to my back are two giant Victoria Secret style wings that flap and carry me around the club.

I have no control over them, but the feeling of weightlessness invigorates me.

A naked girl with extremely long hair rides into the club on a horse splashing everyone with glitter.

She too has no legs, but fins.

She smiles at me and blows me a kiss.

I watch the floating kiss coming at me like a long exhale from a cigarette.

It hits me hard on the cheek, causing my wings to explode.

I fall to the ground and watch as the entire nightclub is filled with white feathers.

The crowd goes crazy, as they dance in the snow-like scene.  

A video of Debbie is playing on the ceiling of the club. 

She smiles and winks at me.

I wave and she waves back.

When I reach out, her eyes widen in horror.

The video glitches and fades.

I scream out to her, but couples surround me on the dance floor closing off my view of her. 

A woman's clunky heel steps on my stomach slicing into my body.

She turns to me and winces, trying to shake me off, but eventually removes the show and slaps me in the face.

I hold on to the heel and try pulling it out, but it is stuck.

The club begins to empty as the song nears its end, but I can't stand. 

My mechanical legs are gone.

Water fills in through the cracks in the floor.

I begin to drown but can move my body again.

I tug at the high heel in my stomach.

I pull it out.

The large body of water begins to drain inside me.

Memories flash before my eyes, blinding me.

I can't breathe.

I try to open my eyes, but they are being raped with bad thoughts.

When I finally open them I realize I am face down on the edge of my bed.

Home.

I roll over and touch my legs, then my stomach.

Everything is in tact.

My room looks like it has been ransacked.

I remember the purple capsule and let out a sigh.

I sit up, but the pressure in my head is too much, so I lie back.

When I do, a white feather flitters off my mattress and dances above my head.

My radio alarm switches on. 

"CherChez La Femme/Se Si Bon" plays.