Free B-Movie Attack by Alan Spencer Page B

else do you have on tonight’s viewing list?”
    “Maybe Flesh Eaters from Mars .”
    Billy rolled his eyes. He fake yawned. “Yeah, I’m suddenly tired. Thanks for the nightcap, sport.”
    “Hey, I’ve got other movies. How about Lesbian Cab Rides Part 8 .”
    “Now you’re entering porno territory.”
    “Would Jessica kick your ass?”
    “She’d tell me all the horror stories of the porn industry.”
    “She’s the type to guilt limp you, huh? That’s a shame. I guess the real thing is always better.”
    Billy headed to the door. “Maybe this visit has cured my insomnia.”
    “What, me helping you to realize you’re not a loser?”
    “You’re not a loser either,” Billy insisted. “I got lucky with Jessica. She literally moved right into my life. I wouldn’t know her otherwise if I hadn’t replied to that ad on line.”
    “Maybe I should be replying to ads of all kinds.”
    “The personal ads are a nightmare.” Billy opened the door. “Maybe you should start a movie club or something. You’ve got the movies.”
    “That I do. All right, good night. Try and get a few hours sleep.”
    Billy returned to the apartment. Jessica was still asleep.  
    After sneaking back into bed and falling asleep himself, images from Death Reject filled his dreams.  

Chapter Nine
    Chuck Muelman received a knock on his apartment door at nine-thirty p.m. The delivery was two hours late. Peggy Sue’s Bakery Creations delivered a pie every Thursday. His wife was a member of the Pie of the Week Club. Brandy loved blueberry pies, and this week's pie was blueberry. Blueberry is a super food , Brandy claimed. I’ve never been sick once since I’ve eaten them. Chuck knew the claim wasn’t true. Brandy had the flu last year and a bad sinus infection. Health food was a mental market. Nothing was good for you anymore, Chuck believed, and everything caused cancer. But he enjoyed the taste of blueberry pies and didn’t complain when it was his turn for a slice.
    The stranger who delivered it was unfamiliar. Nine times out of ten, it was a teenager—usually Jayne, the well-endowed number who also worked at Hooters. Jayne sported enough cleavage to merit a five-dollar tip. But today the deliverer was a man. Chuck was startled by the deliverer’s expression. Ogling eyes. Jackal’s stare. His mouth was shiftless, the contradiction of expressions bordering on insanity. The man could reach out and bite his nose off at any moment, Chuck thought. On each side of the man’s head, a tuft of curly red hair bulged from the scalp.  
    “You’re a new guy,” Chuck said. “You’re late.”
    “I’m the pie guy, yes. I’m late for a reason. My pie will blow your mind. It took extra long because it’s extra special.”
    Chuck grasped for a reply. “Okay then, yes, thank you.”
    He handed the man twenty dollars. The deliverer didn’t bother to break change and Chuck was too put off by the man to demand anything back.
    “I take great pride in my pies, sir.” The deliveryman clearly wasn’t impressed with the tip and didn’t appear to notice Chuck’s generosity. “Please come by the shop for other treats. Anytime, seriously. I’ll show you how the pies are made in back and everything. I always welcome my customers into my pies—I mean into my business.”
    Chuck pasted on a smile and accepted the pink box. “Thank you much. I’m sure I’ll take you up on that sometime. Goodnight.”
    “Goodnight, valued customer.”
    Chuck shut the door.
    Even the man’s invitation came off as strange.
    Brandy snatched the pie. “It’s about time.”
    “Nobody’s going to deny you your precious dessert, honey.”
    Chuck moved to the kitchen and popped the tab of a beer. He returned to the living room and spread himself out on his favorite chair. He waited for Brandy to return to the living room with a plate of her pie. The wait was punctuated by a shrill scream.  
    He bounded into the kitchen. “Brandy, what is it?”
    Her face