Billie and Johnny at The Overlook Hotel
"Johnny, Johnny, I have great news!" Billie yelled as she burst into my room.
"AAAAHHHH," I screamed, closing various windows on the computer, "What are you doing, didn't you see the sock on the door knob?"
"Yeah, what's the deal with that?" she held up the sock by the edge of her fingers, as if she was worried about touching it.
"Never mind," I finally disposed of the last evidence of my shame, "What's going on?"
"My uncle hooked us up with job, pays great, doesn't require much work, and comes with free room and board."
"Sounds great," I was trying to discreetly zip up my pants, "Where would we be working."
Thunder ominously crashed somewhere as Billie said, "The Overlook Hotel."
It was a long drive to The Overlook Hotel. It was located in an isolated part of the Porcupine Mountains. Luckily I was smart enough to bring along my entire Van Halen collection, which we listened to for the entire drive.
"Maybe we should stop listening to your ‘Van Halen collection'," Billie did the finger quotes thing as she said ‘Van Halen collection', "You only own Van Halen II and 1984 and we've been listening to those two albums for the past three hours."
I responded by turning up the volume so I couldn't hear her.
Eventually we arrived at The Overlook hotel. The Overlook hotel was a fancy lodge straight out of the 1920s, the last time Upper Michigan had a functioning economy. The ballrooms, hedge maze, 70s color schemes on all the walls, a bar, and was so expansiveness that all 84 of Billie's family's cats could have come with us and we would never have to smell them. It was even more impressive then the Holiday Inn I stayed at when I was 8 that had both Street Fighter 2 and The Simpson's arcade game in the lobby. After looking around for a bit, Billie and I went to see the manager Mr. Ullman.
"You see, we've had a lot of trouble when hiring family men to work as the winter caretaker," Mr. Ullman explained to us in his office, "The isolation tends to drive them insane and then they kill their family, which you must understand is an insurance hassle. We tried hiring single men for awhile but they also went insane. Of course they were up here alone with nobody to kill so they just ended up masturbating all over the expensive rugs which we then had to replace. Our new strategy is to hire a homosexual couple to see if the lack of a family and the place to deposit semen minimizes hassles for us."
"Well, don't you worry," Billie said with a can do attitude, "While you're looking for a homosexual couple for next winter me and Johnny will make sure to take care of things this year."
Billie and I showed up a few weeks later when the hotel was closing. We made sure we had everything we would need for the long winter. We each brought our computers, on which we had downloaded every episode of Degrassi: The Next Generation, we had a Dreamcast, an external hard drive filled with porn, the complete collection of Star Wars novels, and 300 pounds of bacon.
"You do realize we are providing you with food?" Mr. Ullman asked when he saw the bacon.
"It's just in case," I told him.
"Okay," Mr. Ullman rubbed his temple, "In any case the boiler's in the basement, don't let it explode and here are the keys."
"Aren't you going to show us around and tell us what to do?" Billie asked.
"Listen kid, pretty much every winter the caretaker lasts until January at most. This place pretty much runs itself. Just don't spill anything on the couches and if you want booze you'll have to buy your own, I'm taking all the leftovers with me."
"Alcohol!" Billie and I cried out in concern together, "Only losers are boozers."
"Whatever," Mr. Ullman, walked away.
While watching an episode of Degrassi and eating BLTs, Billie told me about a strange encounter she had.
"This black guy came up and started talking to me."
"That's not good," I interrupted.
"No," she agreed, "He said I was a very special person with a shine. Then he asked me if I wanted to go eat ice cream with him in the kitchen where nobody could hear us talking."
"What did you do?" some food fell out of my mouth as I asked this.
"I went and told security some black guy tried molesting me," she said.
"That's what I would have done," I said as more food fell out of my mouth.
30 Days Later
"Hey Johnny," Billie said during lunch, "Did you notice it's been a month without us leaving the hotel but we still have milk that hasn't gone bad?"
"It's pretty weird," I said before drinking a glass of milk that was as fresh as the day it was bought.
"You know what else is weird?" Billie asked.
I didn't answer for a few minutes, but then I realized she wouldn't continue unless I did. She just sat there looking anxious, "What?"
"Those creepy girls who keep asking me if I want to play."
"For real," I agreed, "It'd be kind of hot if they were a little older, or younger, but they're right at the age where it's not erotic at all."
"Did you just say younger?" Billie asked. I decided to quickly change the subject.
"Maybe those girls are the ones who keep bringing us fresh milk."
"That could be it," Billie said. I kept my secret safe for another day.
After a long day of writing I was plum tuckered. My novel about Princess Liea traveling through a wormhole and marrying me was going absolutely nowhere, plus it was Thursday.
"I miss The Office," I said.
Billie looked up from her copy of Boba Fett: Maze of Deception, "If you're feeling bummed why don't you go to room 235 and see the naked lady?"
"Maybe I will," I instantly perked up, "Sure she turns into an old rotting corpse, but for the first few seconds she is a total hot tamale and those few seconds are all I need."
"Another Friday night, another soirée in the gold ballroom," I said while soaking in the tub.
"I've never had such an active social life," Billie was shaving.
"The last party I was invited to that you weren't hosting, and had other people invited, was a bowling party in 6th grade," I began rubbing my toes with a washcloth.
"I remember there was a rash of bowling parties in 6th grade," Billie reminisced, "I didn't really care for them. Bowling is fun but there were always too many people, and they were all too distracted to finish a game. Also I suck at bowling."
"I like swimming parties. They were rare because the parent either had to be willing to pay for a hotel room or have connections with the hotel, but that just made them more special. "
Billie pointed out, "Plus it would be really annoying for actual guests who want to relax in the hot tub to suddenly have 20 screaming kids playing in the pool for the next couple of hours. It's like one of those prank shows, but instead of TV cameras it's with parents who don't give a shit."
"I like the way you think," I said as I stood up, "Now hand me my towel, we've got a party to get to."
I crept down the hallway, Billie was right behind me, hands held tight around my waist. I was holding an oversized croquet mallet. We had realized that there was somebody else in the hotel with us.
"It's one thing if there's a bunch of ghosts," Billie whispered, "I'm cool with that, I just don't want some hooligan in here tearing up the place."
"Stop talking," I told him, "You're getting spit in my ear."
"Let's check the elevators," Billie suggested.
"I said shut up," then added, "Good idea."
We slowly made our way to the elevators. The tension was building, not even seeing the guy in the dog suit going down on the old man cheered us up. Eventually we were standing in front of the elevators, hearts beating, and sweat dripping from our brows. I breathed in deeply and prepared to press the call button when a banging inside the shaft made us both squeal and embrace each other. Tears wetted our shirts and pants.
The doors opened and gallons of blood swept over us. We were knocked down but never let go of our embrace. The sticky warm fluid washed over leaving the two of us a red mess. Then we heard, "Look, a couple of strawberry queers." I hesitantly opened my eyes and saw
"That's right snootches," Jason gave a thumbs up.
"How did you know we were working here?" Billie asked not letting go yet.
"Working where?" Jason looked confused.
"What with all the blood?" I asked.
"I was pounding this old bitch in room 235 in the ass when she ran out of condoms and I rode that wave like a surfboard all the way down here," Jason explained. It made perfect sense.
Feeling safe enough Billie and I finally let go of one another and got up. "Do you want to help us work here?" Billie asked Jason.
"What does it pay?"
"We won't pay you anything."
"Cool," Jason Mewes immediately said. He then wandered away.
"Well this is your fault," Jason Mewes said as we stood outside the smoldering remains of the Overlook Hotel, "You should have told me not to put an M-80 in the furnace."
"We did tell you that," Billie said, "Twice."
"Well it looks like you should have told me three times," Jason flipped us off and walked away, "Later bitch babies."
"So," I said as Billie and I started the long hike to town, "Do you think it will be okay to use Mr. Ullman as a reference?"
"I don't see why not," Billie said, "It's not like this has ended worse than any other job we've had."