TW watches Monkey Shines

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

Monkey Shines is a 1983 horror movie based on the novel of the same name by Michael Stewart and is just as near perfect as you can get. Directed by George A. Romero, it explores themes of disability and its consequences, friendship and animal experimentation. It failed to recuperate its full $7 million budget but has now gained cult status.

When Allan Mann (Jason Beghe), an aspiring athlete, is hit by a truck while out jogging, his life changes as he is now a quadriplegic. His mother employs a live in nurse but his ‘off the wall’ scientific friend Geoffrey gives him a trained monkey to service all his needs by lying to Melanie Parker, who runs a programme with monkeys for people like Allan. What Geoffrey doesn’t tell either of them is that the monkey, named Ella, has been injected with human brains by him in order to increase its intelligence. He has told his boss the monkey died but Geoffrey has given Ella to his friend so he can continue his experiments on her. What Geoffrey doesn’t count on is that Ella develops feelings for Allan and they become mentally linked due to the injections of human brain matter. Everyone that Allan has feelings for is now a threat to Ella and she has no problem killing them so she can have him all for herself. And dangerously, Allan’s inner rage is acted on by Ella in a bizarre Fatal Attraction scenario.

The movie explores the themes of animal experimentation, exploitation and how life as a quadriplegic can impact someone mentally. Geoffrey has good intentions for the betterment of mankind and Allan but his morality leaves a lot to be desired. He injects himself with a serum that stops him sleeping. That way he reasons if he died at 50 he would have actually have lived for 65 years. He does the right thing for the wrong reasons when he fakes Ella’s death and donates her to Melanie. However Melanie and Allan’s growing attraction to each other is something Ella has to get rid of.

Monkey Shines could easily have teetered over into the absurd and become a cringe worthy movie but it is anything but. The initial ‘cuteness’ reaction by the audience towards little Ella remains despite her actions. She is also a sympathetic character because she has been the victim of Geoffrey’s experiments before finding love and happiness with Allan. She needs him as much as he needs her. She is only protecting what she loves after a life of being in a cage and pricked by needles. There is a real and emotional relationship between the two of them that is as solid and real as the eventual one between Allan and Melanie. Ella and Allan even have their favourite song to dance to.

What is explored well is the consequences of someone going from being able-bodied to being reduced to completely relying both mentally and physically on others for the most basic needs. Indeed this is seen further in his girlfriend’s reaction, She is there for his homecoming but has not visited Allan in the hospital since the accident. We see behind closed doors she is not holding it together and we sympathise with her as it’s a test of love whether you love someone enough to be their carer for the rest of your lives because of their condition. Life is much easier and simple when you don’t have to push a wheelchair wherever you go. Even going to the supermarket is an undertaking when you are in that position. Fair play to Romero for not shying away from these very real issues.

Allan is surrounded by an overpowering mother, a resentful live-in nurse with an annoying budgie as a pet and his messed up friend Geoffrey. His former girlfriend cannot cope with a life looking after Allan and ends up starting a relationship with the doctor that told Allan he would be crippled for life. However as we find out, the doctor lied in order to bed Allan’s girlfriend. Everyone is living a lie, keeping up appearances and not facing life as it is now. With Ella, everything is pure and real. She doesn’t know any other way which helps Allan immensely. There are no complications or bullshit when they are together. In fact Ella even helps Allan in the classroom when he goes back to college to study law. Their mental link allows Allan to travel outside through Ella’s eyes. Their relationship is real. It can be seen that Ella dispatches the threats towards her and Allen in a poetic way. Allan’s girlfriend and the doctor are burned alive; their end being reflective of the flames of passion that sparked their relationship. Allan’s mother is killed by electrocution, an overbearing woman taken down by a primal force of nature she cannot control. Ella finds poetic justice when she injects Geoffrey with poison he intended for her echoing the numerous infections she has endured for the sake of his research. Ella is the apex predator when she takes out the nurse’s budgie, as nature commands, causing her to quit; another obstacle out of Ella’s way.

Such is Allan and Ella’s connection that Allan believes that Ella is carrying out his desires when he hears of the blaze that killed the doctor and his former girlfriend. But it is very much a symbiotic relationship. Allan’s rage at his being a quadriplegic is amplified into vengeful hate when he discovers that he can walk again as the doctor lied. There is a forced scene to try and show the audience how deep Ella loves Allan when she feeds from his mouth implying they are kissing but it’s a dumb scene that doesn’t work. I know what it is trying to convey but it falls flat.

But the movie also has no issues of showing that Allan can have physical intimacy with another human despite his condition when he and Melanie have sex at her home. It’s an affirmation that paralysis is not the end people think it is and that humans are adaptable, finding a way to cope with whatever life throws at them. Ella sadly is collateral damage in human stupidity here and when Allan finally kills her, it is as tragic as it is horrific. The reaction shots of the monkey are cute right to the end making her eventual murder by Allan actually heartbreaking.

None of the performances here are sub par and Jason Beghe (who has also guested in The X-Files and Alien Nation) delivers a layered character in Allan adjusting to his new life and the frustrations of it. John Pankow is flawless as the troubled Geoffrey under pressure from his boss to deliver results from his research forcing him to make some bad decisions but with good reason to help his best friend while furthering his own needs.

Monkey Shines is a great movie that tackles social issues head on without slapping the audience in the face with the message. Well worth the watch.

Book Excerpt: Zombie Blues: Wanna Be Zombie

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

Be careful what you wish for! Want to be a zombie in the Walking Dead? You sure the universe isn’t listening? Read the whole story in Zombie Blues now available on Amazon.

                    WANNABE ZOMBIE

Do you know that old saying, be careful what you wish for? Yeah well, the zombie apocalypse most certainly threw that one in my face.

I’m the world’s foremost zombie cosplayer, Miles Milligan. I love my name as it makes me sound special like Peter Parker or Bruce Banner. I’m the man with a secret life, desperate for attention. I live with my mom and dad and two younger sisters. I say sisters but they’re more like those ghost twins out of the Shining. That movie was what got me hooked on horror and we all know there is no one better than Mr King.

I used to sit up with my mom and dad watching the late Saturday night horror double thing horror bill. I devoured every movie, every book I could and loved every minute of it. From that came model making of the most famous characters in the genre; Dracula, Creature from the Black Lagoon and Pumpkinhead to name but a few.

Then I discovered cosplay!

What is cosplay I hear some of you ask? Really? Ok, well cosplay is a global hobby where you dress as your favourite film and television characters (or anime but that’s not my scene). For example, Spiderman or even a Transformer like Bumblebee or Optimus Prime. Any era, any character, Jack Sparrow, Mister Vader himself or Harley of the Quinns. It is done mostly for fun but there are some out there who see it as something more. They see it as a personal ego trip where they can step on anyone to be the best there is. They will go into debt and danger just to be the best costume. For those people I believe they secretly want to be famous but are frustrated that the closest they get to fame is meeting the actors from their movies and television shows. They think that gives them a privilege but it’s a false fame. It’s phantom fame based on their costume and no offence some of them need to chew on a few salads before declaring how amazing they look as a particular character. Cosplay may be colour blind (rightly so) but it’s not that blind when ridiculousness surpasses sense. But hey, let those idiots wallow in their own self delusion because real cosplayers do it for fun and raise money for charity too. Those are the real heroes.

Me, I love to dress up. I always have and my never miss show is The Shambling Death; you guessed it, a zombie show.

While it has its critics, it is amazingly popular and they keep coming up with new and inventive zombies every season. I would sit glued to the screen each week on repeated viewings and in my mind, I was that zombie. I wanted nothing more than to be an extra on the show as the most bizarre zombie they could make. And what better way to attract the attention of the shows producers than by going to the fan conventions as the best zombie there was and maybe, just maybe that magic moment would happen where they say ‘Miles, would you like….?’

I had it planned to the letter. I would make sure I got photographed with various actors and production staff and post them to Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram…anywhere it could possibly bee seen.

All I ever wanted was to be a zombie. Well, I must have seriously pissed the universe off because as they say, be careful what you wish for.

I suppose the greatest irony is it happened at a Shambling Death convention (expensive bugger it was too on the photo ops alone but hey, any price to get where I wanted to be!).

Book Excerpt: The Time Warriors First Footsteps: Experiment 4

                           

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

Experiment 4 is part of the first Time Warriors book, First Footsteps and is set on the fictional island of Farran off the west coast of Ireland. Called there to investigate a mysterious death, the Warriors soon find something is stalking the island eager to consume the islanders and then the rest of the world.

Available to buy on Amazon in paperback and Kindle.

 EXPERIMENT FOUR PART 1

It was high summer in the middle of July and the night had fallen like a blanket on the island of Farron.

It was an idyllic picture.

The rough cliffs searing upwards like ancient kings as the docile sea lapped at their feet tossing white crests like jester hats. The air was warm as the island sweltered beneath a heat wave. Islanders slept with their windows open and a few even camped out beneath the stars.

The black sky made the stars sparkle with the fierce white of precious diamonds crowned by a half moon so clear you could see the features on the surface.

 Perhaps on nights like this when people looked up at the sky and saw the moon, it gave rise to the old man in the moon stories.

A solitary jumbo jet flew overhead en route to Florida filled with eager holidaymakers excited at going to Disneyland. The few passengers that looked out the cabin windows saw chains of golden lights that looked like giant necklaces.

 Some wondered what the people below were doing. What sort of life did they lead? Most people that lived in the country or the cities and towns that cluttered the mainland could not comprehend the appeal of living here away from civilisation.

They imagined little background stories for those who lived there and what their lives were like. It passed the time if you didn’t like the latest inflight movie or had grown bored with the book they had brought to kill time on the long flight.

It was that or go to sleep. Silently the plane left the island behind and as the distance grew, the stories left them. But none could dream up Ernie Reavey’s story.

The sound of laughter and music filtered over the night air, flowing from the golden spill of the pub’s white wood panelled windows which cast shadows over the gravelled ground.

The stench of beer carried through the night breeze as someone played a fiddle rendition of an Irish jig.

Shadows jerked like struggling puppets as some customers danced bringing screams of laughter.

The thatched roof and white painted walls gave it a picture postcard quality, the owners having kept most of the original structure. The squeak of rusty hinges brought attention to a sign above the door.

 It was an old style painting of a boat in which sat a man in a navy pullover and black cap smoking a pipe with two grey dolphins swimming at his bow. Above it was painted the words Sailors’ Keep. But fishermen were few and far between these days.

Farron had been a major fishing power some years back but new ideas from university graduates spoke of economic restructuring and relocation. Costs and figures had lessened Farron’s importance.

While it still had a fair amount of trading with the mainland companies, most of its attraction was tourist based. With its historical ruins and myriad of sea bird wildlife that roosted in the giant cliff faces, the island had a regular influx of people that toured and rested.

Some of the passengers aboard the jet may have wondered why people lived here but the tourists who visited Farron knew. It was tranquil where the pace of life was so laid back no one seemed miserable.

When the sun beamed down from the clear blue skies, igniting the water with a serene quality, you could walk the litter free sandy beaches without falling over crowds or sit on the cliff tops gazing out over the vista of perfect sea and enchanting sky.

You forgot there was a world out there where people lived in fear on overcrowded estates and cities. Where pensioners froze to death because their pension wasn’t big enough or slept on cardboard streets, a shaking hand extended for small change.

Of course, in the winter, life could be harsh but the population of over two thousand always looked out for each other no matter what. It was a sight to behold when the sea raged and slammed against the cliffs in bellows of white, causing even the birds to huddle. Thunder growled cruelly and sharp white flames of lightning slashed the sky.

It was the stuff documentary makers lived for and to behold such a sight truly left one breathless with fearful awe.

But tonight was different. It was calm with the slightest of warm breezes dancing across the island. The part moon bathed the island in a soft hazy glow.

 No clouds, no storms on the horizon, just nature slumbering peacefully in quiet contentment. A coffin of light broke the partial darkness as the Sailors’ Keep’s door opened and a dark figure stumbled outside.

Tugging his flat tweed cap down over his head, Ernie pulled the lapel of his worn beige overcoat tighter round his neck as he steadied himself. He waved in answer to the cries of goodnight from inside the pub.

The door swung shut, leaving him in darkness once again. His eyes adjusted to the dark. He saw the welcoming light of his cottage. Located on the edge of town, it was only a few hundred metres and he always kept a light burning in the window.

He looked forward to getting into his bed, the central heating having been on since he left for a pint four hours ago. At his age it was always cold even in this heatwave. He caught the smell of Guinness and brandy shots on his breath as he set off down the gravel path, the crunch under his worn booted feet sounding sharply in the night air.

Flowering bushes rustled lazily as he headed in the direction of the footpath that took him to the cliffs. Today was a special day for Ernie. It was July 21st, his wedding anniversary.

He had worked on the fishing boats for years and had met Lily on one of his trips to Farron many years ago.

His first memory of her was on the jetty, walking with some friends, the sea breeze making her curly black hair shimmer. Her brown eyes locked on his as he climbed the steps to get a better look at her while pretending to work with a crab keel. Ernie slipped and fell on the watery steps and Lily had rushed over to help him.

Gasping in pain, he had gratefully accepted a lift to the local doctors. He was told he had broken his arm. Having had it set, Lily had taken him to her parents’ cottage to rest and had a cup of tea.

He recalled her slender fingers round the brown mug as she handed it to him, the slight brush of her skin against his and was inwardly relieved not to see a ring.

Unable to work, he and Lily spent the next six weeks inseparable and shared their first kiss on Shannon’s Point, a local spot frequented by blossoming couples. Most liked it for the abundance of bushes which afforded them privacy. Ernie could not believe how much Lily had captured his heart. He was totally entranced by her.

She was his world.                                               

Her infectious giggle, the way she flicked her hair away from her forehead, the gentle touch of her fingers as she constantly smoothed Ernie’s unkempt blond hair.

Sometimes he saw her watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking. The look on her face gave him butterflies. It was a look of absolute love and warmth. And he wasn’t going to let it go.

On September 10th, he had taken her to the Golden Mile, a stretch of beach that sat adjacent to the sea like a tiara. It was dotted by green spiky bushes and shells, the sweet smell of brine travelling on the breeze as gulls cried excitedly overhead.

He laid out the tartan blanket and spread their picnic of tea in a flask and cucumber and tomato sandwiches and homemade sponge cake between them. They had eaten in silence, giving each other the occasional gentle look.

Ernie took his shirt off and Lily pulled her skirt to just below the top of her knees. They lay under the lazy sun tanning nicely.

Gingerly, Ernie slipped his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. He looked sideways at her. Her eyes were closed but a slight smile lit her face.

“Lily O’Reilly. Would you marry me?” Her eyes snapped open and she stared at him, shielding her startled gaze from the sun. She took one look at his screwed up face, squinting in the sun and smiled.

“Yes,” she said simply as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Pass me a slice of sponge cake.”

Ernie brought his other hand over and opened it. They sat up as Lily put her hands to her face, stifling a grin. It wasn’t sponge cake he held out to her but a simple brass band.

 It wasn’t encrusted with diamonds or pearls nor was it fancy. It was plain and simple, just like Ernie. But it was hers. He slipped it on her finger and they kissed.

They had been married eight months later, a simple ceremony but one infused with love and hope for the future.

 They had decided to stay on the island. Both liked life here, it was uncomplicated. It seemed the party had been attended by most of the islanders. They rented Mister Shane’s old cottage and set up home.

Within the year, Lily was pregnant but unfortunately, the birth was difficult and that day in July, Ernie lost his beloved Lily and infant son. They had been buried in the local graveyard with a funeral that brought a mass turnout. It was as if the entire island mourned his loss.  When the crowds dispersed, Ernie fell apart. 

He had remained on Farron and still lived in the cottage. He had never remarried, not even dated. The pain was too much living without Lily and his child. He couldn’t face it again with someone else. He had often thought of taking his own life but he just couldn’t.

God no longer existed for him, for no god of love could be so cruel as to take all Ernie loved and leave him alone. He continued to work on the boats and lived a meagre life style but had been left a substantial amount from his parent’s estate.

As long as he had money for a pint he was alright.

He shuffled along the gritty path, his circulation not what it once was. In the gloom he saw a battered wooden bench with metal arm rests. It was just on the verge rusting, with the grass growing up round it. Sitting himself down, he took off his cap and held it in his lap.

 Staring up at the curtain of crystal stars that sparkled like tear drops from heaven, he smiled.

“Well, Lily. It would have been forty eight years today. Had a few brandies for you, hope you don’t mind.”

He sat in silence for a while, letting warm memories wash over of him of their scant years together. He often talked to Lily. He firmly believed she was still with him and had raised their boy in a better place.

He recalled the baby’s eyes, brown like his mother. He had held his stillborn son at the bedside of his deceased mother and soaked in every detail about him before the doctors took them away.

He called his son, James. He was the spit of his mother, same features, and same soft hair. If someone had looked in, they would have thought it was a father cradling his son while the mother got some sleep.

“How’s James? Playing you up I suppose. He probably has your spirit. I miss you Lily. Even after all these years, I still love you.”

His eyes welled sadly and he broke down as he stared at the sky. If the stars could be so bright, surely it could only be a gateway to heaven. He imagined Lily and James smiling down on him, patiently waiting for the day they would be a family again.

Sitting on this cliff top watching the starry sky glimmer on the slate like sea, Ernie truly felt he was close to his family. He imagined that if he just reached up, they would take his hand and tell him how much they loved him. He would hear James’ stories of all the wonderful things he and his mother had seen in the next life and how much they had longed for Ernie to be with them to share it.

He sobbed lightly, rocking slightly. He failed to see the dark shape that slithered up the cliff path behind him.

 It saw him in a red hue, alive with colour and energy. It gurgled softly as it seethed forward. Ernie wiped his eyes as the stars seemed to glow with such brilliance he thought the pearly gates themselves were opening. Beyond would be Lily and James, smiling and loving.

He felt a flood of the deepest peace he had ever known and in a second Ernie fell into the open arms of his wife and son.

Jar Jar Binks: A Matter of Perspective

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

photos copyright Owen Quinn

This to many swamped beneath the sea of new Star Wars shows from Disney may not realise it but there is one character that really should have been included in the resurgence but never will be. The sheer tsunami of hatred against him still to this day shocks me because it was not representative of the entirety of Star Wars fandom. That character is Jar Jar Binks.

A certain section of fandom seems to think they speak for everyone and own Star Wars. Their opinions matter and that’s it. It was idiots like this that forced the Twitter account cancellation of Kelly Marie Tran’s Twitter account when she received a backlash about The Last Jedi similar to that experienced by actor Ahmed Best who portrayed Jar Jar. He was driven to the brink of suicide by them which is disgusting to say the least.

And the reason I know these people that think they speak for everyone don’t is simple. My son was young at the time of the release of the Phantom Menace and just like every child back then, they loved Jar Jar Binks.

There;s no doubt that Phantom Menace was a terrible movie but George Lucas designed Jar Jar for the kids to be a goofy fun character amid what is quite a dark movie with full on invasions and a terrifying new villain in Darth Maul. Binks was a friend and confidant to young Anakin but by the end of the movie, he hatred towards Jar Jar was already swelling. People were saying he was racist and this completely chnged the fate of the character.

Originally he was to be part of the main cast in all three movies yet Jar Jar was reduced to an almost cameo role for the following two, Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith. It was a shit move especilly damaging to Ahmed’s ego. He more than likelyy felt he had done a bad job and felt responsible but he dd a great job. Imagine being trashed for doing your job every day despite following the guidance of your boss and job description.

The figures and toys the kids I knew all wanted Jar Jar and they laughed at his antics eg during the pod race and the battle droid battle at the end of the movie. But if you were a certain age, this was sacrilege to what Star Wars stood for. So what does Star Wars stand for? I thought it stood for the entire family having a great time adult and kids alike. I thought it stood for family nights out and memories being made. They certainly were in our house and I can tell you to this day my son still likes Jar Jar as do I.

It was the intention that Jar Jar was to be revealed as a Sith Lord, placed by Palpatine to stay close to the Jedi before the fateful night of Order 66 when he would be revealed as his true self. This has been visualised by clever people on YouTube and they have done an awesome job. Now wouldnt that have been a kick in the balls ala I am your father? This would explain why Jar Jar convinced the Senate to give Palpatine control leading to the birth of the Empire.

I know when we went to see Attack of the Clones, the kids were seeking more Jar Jar and were disappointed. Personally I feel George lost his nerve and should have stuck to his original Sith plan and run with it. Exactly how much money would he lose by putting Jar Jar in the two movies? Probably nothing mostly because the haters will still go and see it. What were they going to do? Stand outside the cinema and protest just like Father Ted? Down with this sort of Gundan!

It’s a pity that never happened because I would have taken great pleasure in telling them to fuck right off. It’s a fantasy movie for kids. They forget when the first Star Wars movies came out they were kids and just like me were caught by the droids and Wookie straight away. How dare they take that away from a brand new generation who were going to see their first Star Wars movie on the big screen ever because they couldnt see the big picture.

At the end of the day folks this isn’t real whether you love the Jedi religion or not and walk about your house in Jedi robes or not. That’s your choice and fair play to you because you’re not taking away from the new fans’ enjoyment. At Least you are out there leaving kids in awe of meeting a Jedi. You see the wonder in their eyes which is brilliant in stark contrast to these nay syers who ruined what could have been a great storyline.

I do wonder how much George diluted the character to the point Jar Jar is responsible for the birth of the Empire. I also have to point out that it is alleged that JJ Abrams wanted to put the skeleton of Jar Jar in the The Force Awakens desert scenes as an Easter egg. If that is true it portrays a real sad sense as people in creative positions of power need to stand by their convictions regardless if the world disagrees. They don’t speak for anyone else.

And the reason I say that is because I dared say that I thought Rogue One was a mess which it was with stuff shoehorned in and Galen’s hole made no sense. I got to see the premier and all the post said was, I;m not going to be a sheep but Rogue One is a mess. The shit I took was unbelievable. People unfriended me. They said I shouldn’t have posted my review. I didn’t. I posted an opinion, nothing else then a Hollywood actor attacked me calling me a dick. Not that it bothered me at all as I’ll never be a sheep and Rogue One is still a mess (Peter Cushing voice does not match the face, just saying) but it just showed that fandom demands solidarity and to speak with the same voice. To hell with that. Bile like this impacts the generation following us who will not understand why the likes of Jar Jar are suddenly in the background. In fact when you rhink of it the same happened to Rose when her entire storyline was dropped for Rise of Skywalker. Did anyone ever support Ahmed from the studios or any of those fans that bashed his chracter? Did anyone ever apologise to him or say it’s going to be fine? I would love to know. I like Jar Jar, He will always have fans in our house. I just wonder what character will suffer the same fate and if so hopefully someone will stand up and disagree. Thankfully the prequels have undergone a new appreciation and Ahmed is finally feeling the love of fans for his work indeed when he appeared as JJedi Master Kelleran Beq that rescued Baby Yoda in the Mandalorian the night of Order 66 his action figure immediately became the most demanded. Some even created custom made figures of him. Now that is what fandom should be not that bile section. We as fans must not allow them to speak for us or take away our enjoyment. The mouse owns Star Wars nobody else. Have an opinion by all means and there is stuff I do not like but I will not shove it down anyone’s throat. Like life you got to take the bad with the good.

So in anticipation of this article I bought a new Black Series figure to show you keyboard warriors who believe they own Star Wars or any other franchise.

Book Excerpt: The Time Warriors: The Belbridge Mystery

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

A trip to the old Wild West town of Belbridge brings the Time Warriors face to face with an old enemy. The arachnoid Mentara have harvested the townspeople and left it a ghost town. Along with sole survivor Elijah, Varran, Michael, Jacke and Tyran find themselves trapped on the Mentara homeworld.Deep in the heart of enemy territory they discover deadly secrets and the lethal leader of the Mentara forces, General Cade. The race is on to save the people of Belbridge from the Mentara food harvesters before Cade uses the town as the launch pad for the total domination of Earth. When Varran, Jacke and Michael are kidnapped by a new faction of Mentara, Tyran and Elijah are left to face the horrors of the Mentara agenda. What they find will change them forever. Who are the Nasgul? Why has General Cade been waiting for Varran? Who are the butchers of Carden? What will Varran do when he faces the most impossible decision of his life? A decision that will determine who lives and dies.

Everyone was heading outside into the gloom in an air of subdued murmur at first. Elijah swigged his bourbon down in one gulp burning his throat before following the relieved Jake.

Horses were whinnying and rearing in panic. The dull vibration punched the air repeatedly like an unwanted intruder trying to smash down a stubborn door. There was a dust cloud stirring from the force of some sort of wind pushing down from above. Shielding his eyes from the dust Elijah squinted at the sky. He was scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. Along with everyone else the gambler wondered what was this thing above them was. Had I been sent from a hidden people they had not yet encountered to reclaim their home from the savage white man? Could it be that the indigenous Indians were not the only civilisation inhabiting this land after all? It was after all a vast continent gouged with mountainous canyons and gorges that could hide entire cities. Elijah remembered the whispered stories of impossible doorways to other worlds, dark alien creatures and strange happenings lurking in the desert. Indians that came to town told stories of a mystical lands and people that retreated like a tortoise into its shell in fear of the white man. Dark forces coiled the land seething with infinite patience, waiting for the day to reclaim it from the invaders. There were many creatures of legend that lived in those shadow places between the tick and the tock of night and day. Skinwalkers, werewolves, giant desert lizards and thunderbirds were just some of the dangers Elijah had heard all about from those that drifted into the bars back in Quebec and here in his new home of Belbridge. Looking up, Elijah now firmly believed every story he had been ever told.

It was then that the milling streets lit up with the shimmer of pulsing pillars of purple light. My God, was this heaven or hell itself breaking open before their eyes? Glancing to his right, the gambler saw old Father O’Malley tightly clutching his bible. His face was a tapestry of rapture. He saw tall unearthly figures begin to form in the purple pillars of light. Was this the end of days? Were these beings angels or demons come to carry the people off? Stunned, the gambler could only stare open mouthed as the middle aged minister’s tapestry unravelled into one of total cold abject fear. Following his gaze, Elijah finally saw what was crawling from those pillars of lights.

Demons.

They were huge; inhuman distorted heads atop taut muscled bodies immediately began looking eagerly around. Burning multiple black ovoid eyes quickly scanned the crowded streets of Belbridge almost in delight. These athletic four armed lithe torsos were mounted on impossibly bulbous arachnid bodies flanked by six segmented powerful legs like great thorough bred race horses. Thick black hair, spines like in nature covered every inch of their bodies.  They scuttled along on their multiple segmented legs that could skewer a man where he stood like a rapier. They held bolas and some type of gun with nets they aimed at the townspeople. With a whoosh of compressed air the nets flew from the weapons. They slammed into people taking them down in a swarm of red energy. Elijah knew these tarantula centaurs were the relentless slavering monsters that screamed in a slumbering child’s nightmares. Set across their awful faces, burning multiple ovoid red and black eyes coldly scanned the streets of Belbridge. Seeing the frightened citizens there was a definite ripple of intense excitement. A chorus of terrifying high pitched screeches ripped the air like a war chant.

The result was instantaneous. Raw terror exploded like an atom bomb among the townspeople. Three men and a woman close to Elijah turned to run. In a heartbeat they were felled by one of the nets. They crackled with hot red energy that dropped them into oblivion.

In their confusion the townspeople had unwittingly gathered in one place making them easier targets; the proverbial lambs to the slaughter. The air bore silent witness as it bled with the futile cries of the damned.

Squeezing his eyes shut to block out what he was witnessing, Elijah prayed but in his heart he knew God was not listening right now. Even Cork born Father O’Malley would admit God had closed his eyes on the town today. The world was going to end in a storm of dust and terror with no hope of divine intervention.

Elijah’s head snapped round at a sudden cry of fear.

Young willowy Jimmy Mellor was no more than fifteen years old, face full of freckles with a mop of mad red hair. He was training to be a barber with Mister North in the hopes of moving one day to one of the bigger cities. Crying out in fear, Jimmy was scrambling backwards along the ground. His eyes were locked in wide terror towards the rear.

For a moment Elijah thought he was being pursued by the demons until something else otherworldly caught his eye. A rat was swiftly scuttling across the street towards Jimmy. It wasn’t a rat he realised. It looked like a large wood lice. He had never seen one of them move so fast or grow to that size before. It was racing on a hundred grey white legs and intently heading straight for Jimmy. The poor kid couldn’t outrun it. It what seemed like a second the thing had scuttled up Jimmy’s torso and straight into his open mouth. It happened so fast that Elijah couldn’t process it for a second. Jimmy fell back choking. His skinny dirt covered frame began to convulse uncontrollably.

A sick deep gurgle accompanied the violated red headed teenager’s fitting. His poor head twitched so violently that Elijah thought his neck would snap.

Suddenly through the haze Jimmy rolled over on to his side directly in Elijah’s line of sight. Recoiling fearfully, Elijah realised Jimmy’s blue eyes were as dead as stone. He began to mourn the loss of one so young until the corpse’s head jerked suddenly.

To his horror, Elijah stared as the dead kid’s skull pulsed and stretched before splitting wide open. Trying to not retch, the gambler heard the skull bone crack. The hair and scalp peeled back like ripe fruit. Red blood poured out mixing with the dirt on the street. It matted Jimmy’s red hair thickly as the back of the lice thing protruded from the top of his head. Helpless to stop it, Elijah couldn’t help himself. He threw up there and then. Wiping his stained mouth on his sleeve, he stared in horror as the serrated back of the thing began to rise and fall as if it were breathing. Like a broken puppet on broken strings, Jimmy then pushed himself to an upright position.

A familiar voice caught Elijah’s attention. With a horrified gasp he saw Sally approach Jimmy. She had obviously seen him fall. They were friends so Sally was just being her usual caring self. Biting his fist hard so as not to cry out, Elijah watched her concern turn to terror as she stared at her friend. Blood was trickling down Jimmy’s youthful face into his unmoving eyes. Elijah began to shake as he saw Sally run screaming in terror away from the dead Jimmy. She was fleeing with absolutely no sense of direction, clashing with others running in all different directions. The storm of dust hindered everyone’s sight resulting in painful collisions and mayhem as the instinct to flee gripped them all. Those crackling nets were dropping people where they stood. Her heavy skirts caused Sally to trip. Elijah had bitten into his fist so hard, he had drawn blood. Cowering with fear he daren’t call out to her. Elijah couldn’t reach out in time anyway. No doubt the demons would surely take him too. The last thing the gambler saw was Jimmy grab Sally by the hair before getting lost in a mass of people, demons and dust. Telling himself that someone had to survive to tell what happened here gave Elijah little comfort as he could not deny his cowardice. He heard his inner voice spitting at him in disgust. Even as he thought it Elijah knew he would be put in a mad house. No one would believe him. It was so outrageous even he feared his own sanity would totally shatter under the stress. There was only enough room under the watering trough for him, only him. Maybe that was what God had intended all along. The demons would never see him so low down. They were so tall that this crawlspace would never even cross their minds to look in. He was so afraid Elijah could scarcely believe they were real. His ears were hurting from their high pitched cries. It sounded like the hungry chattering teeth of eager Armageddon itself.

Book Excerpt: The Time Warriors: The Return

all rights copyright Owen Quinn

The below is an excerpt from the story the Return which forms part of the new Time Warriors book Only The Dead Get Off At Kymlinge and Other Stories available now on Amazon with 3 variant covers to choose from.

lavours; the world’s gone nuts for it.”

 With a nod, Rachel had accepted the bottle and money off coupons, put them in her trolley and went on about her shopping, wondering as she went around the shelves if she should put a patent in on some of the products that had yet to be invented and take their place in household cupboards. But she smiled at the thought of Varran’s face if she did. He’d probably think the universe would implode.

Varran was never far away, eager for their help and company. Sometimes this human form was so restrictive, incompatible with her dreams of being part of the dimensional fields again. It was trying for her and she knew she had been a bit sharp with Michael recently as if she blamed him for her life now leaving her slightly guilty. It was a feeling that was an ache in her that she couldn’t share with Michael. He’d take it the wrong way and over compensate making things more uncomfortable between them. Their sex life had dwindled somewhat and she could see the confusion in his face when she told him she was tired or had a headache. She knew he wanted more kids and something told her he was on the cusp of asking her to marry him. The thought of it scared Rachel when she compared it to life as a Ganti among those limitless vistas free as an eagle. How could she take Sarah away from that and where would she go? Maybe if she rode it out these thoughts would pass in time. Would the normality of the twenty first century reduce her in some way?

 Until Rachel could sort it out in her own head then she couldn’t expect Michael to understand so right now it was all about Sarah. All she wanted was a tea party on the patio. She never mentioned any memories of being part of the Ganti and maybe that was due to the racial memory gene passed down from Michael.

 And Sarah often stayed with Jacke or Tyran at their homes, giving Rachel and Michael some private time awkward as it was at times. Inwardly she thanked her blessings for such an extended family. She knew now why Michael was so close to them.

Even he had changed since they started living together. He had consciously or subconsciously adopted this “Father” mode where he tried to seem the sensible dad and show a good example but fell badly with his language.

Whatever, thought Rachel. He was just as silly and gormless as she remembered and he could put on all the severity of dad knows best but Sarah had him wrapped round her little finger. He was a good man and partner but it would all be easier with a manual on how to deal with the obstacles we put in front of ourselves.

 Come to think of it Michael was quite dominated by all the women in his life which wasn’t a bad thing, Rachel decided.

“Nearly home Sarah!” she called to the back seat where Sarah shifted excitedly and clapped. Rachel swung up the bottom of the Station Road leading to the cul-de-sac where they lived. Feeling slightly guilty at her secret, Rachel decided to suggest she and Michael go to the movies tonight, maybe have a meal.

 “Speak of the Devil,” she muttered as she saw Michael strolling down the road, jacket buttoned and hands buried in his pockets against the cold September day. Rachel saw he was wearing new trainers which she hadn’t bought him. He must have ordered them himself online and forgot to say she thought. Smiling, he waved as they pulled up beside him. Leaning down to the passenger side as Rachel lowered the window, he grinned at his daughter and winked at Rachel.

“Alright family?” he asked chirpily.

“Where are you going?” Rachel asked him.

“Just down to do the Lotto. Although why Varran won’t let me slip forward to tomorrow and get the numbers I’ll never know.”

“Probably something to do with changing the timelines, imploding timelines, cheating fate, that sort of thing,” Rachel droned. “It’s the same reason you can’t go back and buy all that Action Man stuff and sell it for a profit boxed.”

“He’s such a mood hoover,” Michael griped. “Well, the next time we’re in the future, I’m going to have a quick peek. And next time we are in the 70s and 80s, I’m so grabbing some Action man stuff; I don’t think a few action figures and vehicles will destroy the world,” he decided. “Sarah, want to come to the shop with me?”

Sarah gave him a stare from the back seat, settling her expression that conveyed all seven year olds knew best.

“Daddy, we’re making cupcakes with Nana!” she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Michael frowned. “Oh sweetie, Nana had to go out with her friend Harold. She won’t be back for a while.” Harold wasn’t exactly Maisy’s boyfriend but close enough whom she’d been seeing for over a year now.

“She never said anything about seeing Harold today,” Rachel remarked puzzled.

“It was out of the blue. Harold has a boat. It sank or something with the bad weather last night. I don’t know. I don’t ask,” Michael remarked.

Sarah looked crestfallen.

“Why don’t you come with me and you pick our numbers for tonight? The lady might give you one of those pens and when Nana comes back you can use it to write down her recipes.”

Rachel nodded.

“That’s a good idea. It’ll give me the chance to put these groceries away. Tell you what I’ll get the ingredients ready and we can start baking when you and Daddy get back.”

 This satisfied Sarah. Rachel leaned back and helped Sarah undo her seatbelt. Michael opened the car door and gave the little girl a hand to get out.

“Won’t be long,” he smiled, closing the door and thumping the roof twice to signal for her to go.

Rachel pulled into the driveway and got out, opening the car boot release. She tutted. I’d better open the front door first, she thought.

She fumbled with the set of keys, selecting the front door one. She went to put it in the lock when the door opened. Her face fell.

“What are you doing here?” Rachel stared at a surprised Michael dumbfounded.

“I kind of live here,” he answered unsure what Rachel was talking about. “Is this you behaving weird again?”

It was a pointed remark which wasn’t lost on Rachel who didn’t acknowledge it otherwise it would open a can of worms she wasn’t ready to deal with. A deep dread began to swell in Rachel making her skin crawl.

 “Everything alright Michael?” came a voice from the kitchen. Rachel’s heart almost stopped. It was Maisy.

“I thought Maisy had gone with Harold to the boat,” she breathed fearfully. “I thought you were going to do the Lotto.”

Michael tilted his head strangely at her.

 “No, what’s wrong Rachel? Is Sarah in the car?”

Sheer terror twisted her inside as Rachel turned and ran back down the street calling for her daughter. Her legs pumped like an Olympian athlete. Her heart pounded as terror gripped her every nerve. Michael took off behind her, leaving Maisy standing worriedly at the front door.

 Michael caught up with Rachel at the end of the road where she was looking frantically up and down. The traffic buzzed past uncaring. Catching up to her, Michael grabbed her by the arms whirling her round, demanding to know where Sarah was. Hysterical, Rachel stared at Michael in sheer fear pulling free from his grip.

Sarah and the other Michael were gone.

Paul O’Grady Tribute

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zmbie Blues

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

My three favourite comedians n the world include Paul O’Grady aka Lily Savage and it is with genuine sadness that I am writing this tribute following his untimely death at 67.

As his drag queen persona Lily Savage, Paul smashed on to our screen in a flurry of beehive hte hair and mouth like a sewer. Like Billy Connolly Lily spoke my language; Provident cheque, shoplifting, anti smokers and relationships. To this day and for the rest of my life, I will always seek out Lily Savage on Youtube because she is guaranteed to make me laugh. Whether it be the Lily Savage show, Paul O’Grady chat show, Blankety Blank or being interviewed on Michael Parkinson Paul is hilarious. It was a brave move to ditch Lily just to be Paul O’Grady but it was clear he didn’t need drag to be as witty and funny as Lily ever was.

His greatest gift was he connected with people and knew their struggles in life. When you read his autobiographies you understand how his life experiences and comedy were so closely entwined. When you read the chapter about the Liverpool riots then you understand why all you need in a riot are flat shoes, a pram and an ashtray in a sock to belt a copper. It is clear these deeply affected him. He knew what it was to be skint and what it was to struggle. Paul was a fighter, not afraid to voice his opinion and hated branding people especially working class people like the Daily Mail did. Of course in later years his love of dogs became a prime time show still airing now. He was a huge sci fi fan and longed to be on Doctor Who and guested as himself in the Stolen Earth. He also loved The Avengers and Cagney and Lacey, shows I grew up on. He did get the chance to play the Doctor in his Lily Savage Show along with Daleks and Cybermen. Told you he spoke my language.

But his acid tongue hid a deep love of life, people andd animals that touched the hearts of millions. Paul was a true one off the like of which we will never see again. But his time on Earth inspired people to be that much kinder to each other and to animals; to find the laughter even in dark times. He glowed with life and laughter and his legacy will keep us laughing for years to come. God help heaven now he and Cilla Black have been reunited. God will need a tramadol with them two hellraisers.

I think it’s time to erect that statue of him in Liverpool. He will never be forgotten and rightly so. As for now, I think it’s time for a few Blankety Blank outtakes on YouTube.