Free Autopsy of an Eldritch City: Ten Tales of Strange and Unproductive Thinking by James Champagne Page A

tissue on her nipples, and of course, her breasts, with her right boob being larger than her left: the cumulative effect was that of a travelogue of scars. In the interview portion of the article, Heidi mentions how she has trouble sleeping at night because her breasts are so large, and that she’s forced to massage her boobs for an hour or so a day. “People have fewer scars from car accidents than I have on my body,” Heidi says about her “grizzly operation-room battle wounds.” Her makeup was done by Brett Freedman, her hair was done by Giovanni Giulliano, and her dress was from Free People, while the pink cami she wore in one of the photographs was from Cosabella. For some reason, the mental image of Heidi Montag massaging her freakish boobs gave me a guilty erection, and I wondered if maybe I should make a quick visit to the men’s restroom and rub one out, when Dr. Roxy entered the waiting room and looked at me and smiled and said it was my turn. So I smiled back, put the magazine back down on the coffee table, and followed her to her office, hoping that she didn’t notice that I was walking a little funny (on account of my boner).
    “Hello? Earth to Christopher Oz?” Dr. Roxy asked me with a grin as she waved a slender hand a few feet away from my face, causing my attention to snap back into the present. Dr. Roxy Pomo was a thin middle-aged woman with short red hair and heterochromatic eyes, these eyes being framed by a pair of old-fashioned looking glasses that looked almost exactly like the ones worn by Eileen Brennan’s Mrs. Peacock character from the 1985 film Clue (in fact, they were the exact same pair of glasses, as it just so happened that Dr. Roxy was a distant relation of Eileen Brennan and had received the glasses as a gift many years ago). As always, she was wearing some sort of Native American necklace along with Navajo sterling-silver and turquoise dream catcher dangle-earrings. I couldn’t help but notice that her outfit had no buttons on it: she had on that day faded denim jeans, a black short-sleeved t-shirt (on the front of which was an image of three wolves howling at a moon), and no shoes or socks. I myself was wearing black jeans and a custom made white t-shirt, on the front of which was an illustration of the Doomsday Door that appeared on an episode of The Real Ghostbusters cartoon show back in 1987, during its second season (an episode that had given me nightmares when I was a kid: in the show, which was entitled “Knock Knock,” some construction workers digging a subway tunnel encounter an ancient Sumerian gateway built beneath New York City, a door that leads to the “Nether Regions” and which has a demonic face on the front of it that resembled a monstrous black-skinned bull/human hybrid, with two curvy horns, a nose ring, a mouth filled with sharp teeth, and two black tentacles coming from beneath its chin. The demon face on the door can speak, and it warns the workers in a deep, echoed voice to not open the door until doomsday, this warning being followed by a maniacal laugh. One of the workers, seemingly blasé about all of this, chooses to ignore the warning, claiming that they have a subway tunnel to dig and that they weren’t going to stop “just because some nutty door says so.” Naturally, the door flies open, all kinds of ghosts and demons commence causing havoc in NYC, and once again the Ghostbusters are called upon to save the world. Man, that was a great cartoon show).
    “Sorry… though you know I have a tendency to daydream,” I said, with a lopsided grin of my own on my face. “Uh, what were we talking about again?”
    “You were telling me about your fear of rainbows, and I told you about my fear of buttons. Why are you afraid of rainbows, if you don’t mind my asking?” Dr. Roxy asked, her gold Cross pen poised over the surface of her legal pad, ready to jot down notes.
    “It all dates back to a sermon I heard once when I was a kid. I was raised as