It was a foggy Halloween night when Hector and Miguel arrived at the slummy Obstructed View Apartments for a double date they had arranged with a couple of girls they found on Fumbledorks, a dating app for bros who can’t hook up without their wingmen.
Miguel parked his brown beater in the parking lot and surveyed his surroundings. “What a dump.”
“You got some nerve,” said Hector, “in your ranfla GT.”
“Why couldn’t we meet them at a bar like a regular date?”
“Bro, these sucias are D-T-F. They don’t wanna go to some bar; they wanna go right to the bedroom!”
“But a bar has bouncers and security,” whimpered Miguel as a black cat crossed in the headlights. “This place is pavoroso.” Miguel made the sign of the cross and marked an X on his window.
“Stop sketching out and start focusing on the task at hand.”
“Which is what?”
“Which is bitches, that’s what.”
“Like the Llorona?”
“Let’s go!”
Two Latina goth girls named Valentina and Yvette shared a crummy apartment on the second floor. They were drunk on sangrias and bumping and grinding to darkwave music when Hector and Miguel showed up.
“Happy Hollow-weenie!” said Valentina, greeting them with hugs and kisses. “Make yourselves at home.”
“There’s pisto in the kitchen,” pointed Yvette before the girls resumed grinding in the living room.
In the kitchen, Hector’s devilish grin was frozen on his face as he poured two cups of sangria and toasted with Miguel: “To hard drinks and easy women.” They took a drink, then saw Valentina keeping Yvette from grabbing a pack of cigarettes.
“I want one!” whined Yvette.
“You don’t even finish ‘em, and I only have a few left.”
“How many do you have?”
“A few.”
“Okay, check it out,” said Yvette, rubbing her hands together. “If I can guess how many frajos are in that pack, will you give me one?”
“Bitch, if you can guess how many frajos are in this pack, I’ll give you all five.”
“Is it six?” guessed Yvette.
“Nope.”
“Dang!”
Hector and Miguel turned to each other in disbelief. “Wow,” whispered Miguel, “these girls are dumber than a bag of chicharrones.”
“We’re not screwing their brains,” explained Hector.
“No, somebody did that already.”
“Focus!”
Hector entered the living room. “Ladies, let’s play a game.”
“Yeah!” they agreed. “We love games!”
“You guys know how to play strip poker?”
“I know how to play poker,” declared Valentina.
“And I know how to strip,” confirmed Yvette.
“Great!” said Hector. “You got some playing cards?”
“We do!” The girls giddily left the room and Hector toasted Miguel once again: “This is gonna be like taking candy from a baby.”
Twenty minutes later, the girls were fully dressed and Hector and Miguel both had their shirts off. Miguel was pantless. “Such a stupid expression,” Miguel told Hector. “Candy from a baby. Who gives candy to a baby? It’s a choking hazard.”
“Okay, caballeros!” said Valentina. “Let’s see ‘em.”
Hector flipped his cards: “Two jacks.”
Valentina grinned and turned over three sixes: “Three of a kind.”
“Again?” erupted Miguel. He looked disturbed as the girls celebrated with cheers and high-fives.
“Pants off!” commanded Yvette and Hector removed his trousers, revealing a pair of boxers that said PARTY BALLS on them. The girls laughed and Miguel suggested a time-out.
“Good idea” nodded Hector. “Ladies, we need a a team meeting.”
“Refills!” shouted Yvette and the girls moved to the kitchen.
Miguel leaned in and spoke to Hector in a hushed tone: “Do you realize what’s happening here?”
“Yeah, we’re getting our nalgas kicked in.”
“No, that Valentina girl. She pulled the same hand two times in a row.”
“So?”
“So that’s impossible.”
“Okay, so she cheats, and not very well, but who cares? As long as somebody’s getting naked.”
“She pulled three sixes each time. That’s the number of the beast. I think these girls are like devil worshipers or something.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I’m serious. I’m getting strange vibes.”
“It’s called a boner. Just go with it.” Hector turned to the kitchen and asked who was next to deal but the girls were gone. The guys stood up and Yvette called out from the bedroom: “We’re in here!” Hector nudged Miguel and they walked down the hallway, half-naked.
In the bedroom, there was a white sheet on the floor. No bed. Valentina was lying still on the sheet, next to a Ouija board, with her hands crossed on her chest. Yvette lit the last of a dozen candles and asked, “You guys ready for a different game?”
“Naked Twister?” asked Hector.
“¡Espiritos!” announced Yvette. “Valentina and I will recite a few chants, we’ll have an orgy, and then we’ll conjure up spirits of the dead.”
“I’m sorry,” said Hector, “did you say something after orgy?”
“Come lay down with us,” said Valentina, “You won’t regret it.”
The guys traded glances and Miguel said, “I just remembered that I have to be somewhere.”
“Hold on,” said Hector before turning to the girls. “So what is this shit? Are you guys like witches or something?”
“No,” answered Yvette.
“Then can’t we just orgy like regular people?” he asked.
“Are you gonna join us or not?”
The guys exchanged another look and Miguel said, “I’m outta here.”
Miguel left and Hector’s head swiveled back and forth between the bedroom and the living room. “Gimme one second, ladies.”
Miguel was in the living room getting dressed when Hector entered. “Going somewhere?”
“I told you this was no bueno, Hector.”
“It doesn’t sound so bad. We have a foursome, we raise the dead. What’s the big deal?”
“You don’t mess with the occult. It’s all fun and games in the beginning then one day you wake up and you’re a warlock.”
Yvette entered in her bra and panties and Hector was immediately enchanted. “Miguel has a prior engagement but I’m still free the rest of the evening.”
“You sure you won’t change your mind?” Yvette asked Miguel.
“I think Party Balls can handle it from here,” answered Miguel before leaving.
Hector joined the girls in the bedroom and they laid him down on the white sheet.
“I’m not gonna turn into a brujo, am I?” The girls smiled at each other, then giggled like school children.
Miguel hurried to his jalopy and sputtered it back to life. He looked up at the apartment and saw the candles flickering in the bedroom window, casting distorted shadows on the wall. Sitting on the rail of the adjacent balcony, shining in the moonlight, was that damn black cat.
Several weeks later, a disheveled Miguel saw a Help Wanted sign in a coffee shop window and walked inside. He looked around the place and noticed a man at a table with a pale face and long dark hair. He was dressed in a black overcoat with a matching hood and capelet. Miguel didn’t recognize him at first but he walked over for a closer look and realized who he was.
“Hector?”
Hector had been staring off into space and when he looked up, his expression didn’t change, and his speech was slow and monotone. “Miggy. What’s up, my guy?”
“Where have you been?”
“I been around.”
“I haven’t seen you.”
“It’s been a minute, huh?”
“Since Halloween night.” Miguel pulled up a chair and sat down. “You look so different. I barely recognized you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You look…” Miguel lowered his voice, “… you look like a warlock.”
“No way, bro. Same old Hec.”
“Levi!” hollered the barista behind the counter and Hector replied, “Right here!” The barista gave Hector his drink order and Miguel saw the name LEVI scrawled on the coffee cup.
“Levi?” he asked.
“It’s Leviathan,” said Hector, “but these fools can’t spell that shit.”
Hector took a sip of his coffee and Miguel leaned forward: “What happened that night?”
“What night?”
“Halloween. Tell me what happened.”
“You pussed out, that’s what happened. It was the most amazing night of my life and it coulda been yours, too, but you couldn’t grow a pair.”
“What did you see? Did you witness the unliving?”
Hector’s eyes widened. “I was the unliving.”
“Dios mío.”
Hector laughed. “Anything for a piece of ass, right?”
“I suppose.”
A moment passed and Hector gathered his things. “Welp, it was good to see you, Miggy. Take care.” Hector got up to leave but Miguel grabbed his arm, “Wait!” Hector sat back down and Miguel continued: “Maybe you didn’t hear, but things haven’t been going so well for me lately. I totaled my car. I got a DUI. I lost my job.”
“And your apartment,” added Hector.
“I still have the apartment,” said Miguel but Hector shook his head no.
“I got the eviction notice today,” confirmed Miguel and Hector nodded with a smirk.
“Take me with you, Hector.”
Hector chuckled.
“Come on,” pleaded Miguel. “You guys still looking for a fourth?”
“A fourth?” There’s thirteen of us now.”
“Thirteen? How many guys?
“Just me.”
Miguel dropped to his knees. “Pleeease, Hector, take me with you.”
Hector smiled and put a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “Sorry, son… but I think Party Balls can handle it from here.”
Miguel noticed a 666 tattoo on Hector’s wrist and stood back up. “Good luck in hell,” he sneered.
Hector laughed. “What are you talking about?”
“That 666 on your wrist.”
“You mean my three 9’s?” Hector pointed to his temple and the sixes were inverted. “It symbolizes my mental and spiritual awakening.”
“Please, you said you became the unliving. What about that?”
“I said I was the unliving, meaning I was once a dead nothing just like you, but now I’m reborn.”
“Flimsy, but okay. And the eviction? How did you know about that if you’re not some kind of hechichero?”
“Your landlady told me about that.”
“Olga?”
“Well, she goes by The Brown Raven now but yeah, she’s the high priestess of the coven that cursed you with all those evil spells for not rising to the occasion.”
Miguel felt an excruciating pain in his abdomen and doubled over in agony.
“Speaking of witch,” punned Hector, “you also have a gastric ulcer. Good luck with that!”
Miguel watched through watery eyes as Hector exited the coffee shop, sauntered onto the sidewalk, and walked out of his life forever.
Brought to you by Fumbledorks.