Storymania - I'm Bored Of You. Can I Be Somebody Else? by J L Watts

I'm Bored Of You. Can I Be Somebody Else?
J L Watts

“Shit, man watch what your doing!” Frank had dealt with handless fingers before but damn it they were messy. Reminded him of snakes.
“Just lower him out of the trunk,” Frank paid careful attention to saying his words slowly, so that it sunk into Pete’s skull. Lip apart, tongue on view, Pete concentrated with every muscle on the dead legs of the businessman he was holding.

“Cigarette dude?” he smirked at Frank, proffering him a finger.
“We got room for two corpses Pete,” Frank said, no hint of humour in his voice. “Now, I’ve got a lady to get home to”.
“You can do that, I mean after a hit?” Pete asked incredulously.
“We gotta bath, dipshit and it might pay you to vist plastic ducky every once in a while.”
“But Frank, it’s disgusting… I mean we kill a guy, we take his watch, passport, tie, hat, hell even his socks… but pick off his rose as well?”
“His?” She’s mine now Pete, and unless that gap between her curtains is lying, hell what a night it’s gonna be.” Frank nodded slowly to himself, revealing a set of gleaming lawyer flossed teeth.
“If I’d of known that this guy was such a… a… um...”
“I think the word you’re looking for is homosexual, Frank” Pete said in smug satisfaction, wagging his severed finger at his partner for justification.
“Ohhh, someone’s been studying the human A-Z”, Frank said with contempt, his nostril flaring at the finger.
“So what, you go off with this flossie, and I what, play bongos with dead guy’s ribs?”
Frank winched at Pete’s Italian American vocabulary. He needed a change. And quick. Even if it meant more fingers.
“No, sucker when in woods, do as the moles do”. Frank was sure he heard that somewhere.
“And what’s that?” Pete asked, dropping the finger into the bonnet.
“Um, dig” Frank replied rolling his sleeves up, deciding against one last night with Lucy. He did feel regret though. She couldn’t have had many passionate nights, with her lawyer husband away all week on business and seemingly always engrossed in his work. Frank had quickly surmised he had been a bad choice for Change. Hence the situation he found himself in now. One messy copse. One dumb partner. And he wanted improvement?

“Just think of the sweet love I coulda been havin’ tonight Pete”.
“Geez, Frank cheers for that image.” Somehow Pete could withstand decapitation but the thought of his partner abreast another person was too much to bear.
Frank looked him at the full moon and sighed. He could feel the Change already. Goodbye, frigid lawyer boy he thought, whilst chucking more soil on a still visible iris. His skin began to tinkle as he felt the Change. Right on schedule it began with his eyes, which moved like a flowing tide from diamond green to shifty brown. Looking in his makeshift mirror, Frank smirked despite the burning sensation. He always thought a man with brown eyes would be a bit of a player, and he pictured himself dropping his popcorn in the cinema to ogle up some honeys skirt. His hair began to fall out like grass being mowed and slowly the rest of his body changed as well, skin colour, arms, legs, muscles, stomach, everything. Sadly, Frank felt no extra bulge in his trousers so he assumed this man used charm to get where he wanted.
“How am I lookin’ Pete?” he said with exaggerated tones.
“Hey look I’m wearing the gay guy’s hair!” Pete laughed as he picked up tufts of flame coloured hair and flicked it on his bald head. He seemed disinterested in Frank’s take on the incredible Hulk.
“Pete for god sake you’re in the presence of Mr Casanova… what is this guy’s name anyhow?”
“Err…District Lake” Pete offered helpfully.
“No jackasses, not where he lives, his name.” Frank’s new features ventured into their first scowl at Pete’s stupidity.
“Well they all sound the same. Andrew’s, Simon’s, Rebecca’s, where’s the originality? Wade Andrews I think”.
“You sure that aint just the post code?” Frank quipped.
“Shut it” Pete dropped the hair wiping his hands on his bloodied shirt.
Wade, thought Frank. I like it. Who’s a man now, he thought, slicking up his hair in the rear view mirror. His leather jacket smelt new and he pictured a bike, easy rider.
“C’mon Pete we’re outa here”. Frank started walking to the driver’s seat, lurching each shoulder from side to side.
“You dislocated your new shoulder, Frank?” Pete asked, a little worried.
Frank look annoyed and lifted his head. That seemed to do it. Wade Andrews, yeah, a swagger and shades. Swagger and shades, Frank thought, lurching an eyebrow, “how can I help you mama”? Woops, said that aloud.
“What?”
“Nothing, Pete lets go, the goo outa the back?”
You could say many things about Frank, but at least he had a polite way of describing a man’s insides.
Pete signed; they’d been over this a million times. “Brain’s in the bush, everything else cleaned and polished,” he said matter of factly. He didn’t mention the head. He didn’t need to. Frank’s delusions of being the next Elvis with a heavy dose of Fonz from ‘Happy Days’ wouldn’t have been made possible if the head hadn’t been dealt with properly. The head was needed for the change. Frank was always careful not to forget that since he last disposed off it in a river persevering a leg instead. It took him a severely scratched head and half an hour to determine why he didn’t Change.

Frank started the engine of the old convertible, feeling refreshed yet tingling slightly, like the start of pins and needles. He felt many things after a Change, depending on the person and mood conflicting with his own. Tonight he found an overwhelming sense of belonging, he sensed as Wade Andrews he would become a man. With glinting teeth, well ironed clothes and slicked back heavily gelled hair he drove out of the clearing with his partner in crime, who seemed less interested in his friend’s new found attitude than in seeing how long he could leave his finger before he trapped it in the electronically controlled mirror.

“So where we heading Pete?” Usually Frank preferred to deal with the details, but he thought Wade as more of a boss than a plebe. And he had to obey the rules, fit in smoothly to the guy’s existence, no drastic changes. Frank seriously hoped the guy liked sex.
“234, Pershiner Avenue, looks a pretty cosy place” Pete replied, intentionally smudging the passport with blood from his window game.
“Bach pad” half whispered Frank.
“What? Geez Frank you’re sure acting different”.
Says Tony from the Mafia mused Frank but he kept the thought to himself pulling into a cul de sac.
“This is it.” Pete affirmed, already half way out the door whilst Frank/Wade studied his hair in the mirror.
“Lookin’ good”, he mumbled before half staggering half swaggering out of the door and following Pete, who was already at the door like a home sick puppy dog. As he approached the door, he noticed an unusual look of steely determination on Pete’s face. Just as long as he didn’t suggest fish fingers for dinner Frank thought, joining Pete at the front of an impressively sleek looking joint.

“Now put your hands where I can see them, you sadistic fuck!” Pete didn’t waste any time in pushing Frank to the ground, the guilt of his earlier hesitation beginning to envelope him.
“What…Pete, stop clownin’, you’re mucking up my hair!” Ohh, is that cologne I see on the table? Sweet smelling Wade…”
“I’m not clowning Wade, I mean Frank… Joshua, um whatever! I’m FBI and we’ve been tracking you man. You’re the biggest thing since Roswell, and it’s my job to keep you under a wrap.” Pete produced a pair of cuffs quickly inserting them on to Wade’s wrists, lifting him up to face him or rather the barrel of his gun.
“Fuck!” You must be a good actor, cos you sure as hell act dumb. What you done with ‘my’ Pete?”
“Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible aint the only one who can do face changes, dude. You’re guy Pete told us everything. You’re a human changing murderer with a penchant for pretty blondes and a high ranging alien with an ability to morph into corpses, bringing people freshly killed back to life. Pete is just your taxi driver. I’ve been tracking you for a while. Managed to get a feel for what this Pete guy is like. The obsession with fingers, seemingly the most stupid man on earth, or whatever planet you come from anyway. Thought I did a good job. Hopefully the Academy will consider me what with the Oscars coming up n’all.”
Frank just stared blankly ahead. Had he asked for an explanation? He didn’t really want to know how he’d been duped.
Following his Oscar deluded fantasy Pete then inserted both his dirt lined thumbs below his unshaven chin and pulled, his face apparently coming off, like wax, revealing a tanned man with a broad face and intelligent eyes. Definitely not Pete.
Frank looked on, not even raising an eyebrow. He was a body swapping alien, he’d seen it all before.
“I don’t believe this…” Wade now reduced himself completely to Frank, forgetting about the shades, for this way not a cool Wade like situation to be in. “But the Italian American accent, and where you get a mask like that anyway?”
“Italian mother, Madam Tussards” FBI Pete answered quick as a flash.
“So where’s my Pete?” Frank grunted as FBI Pete pulled tighter on his arms.
“About six feet under, like a lot of other poor buggars! I regret being able to stop you killing Wade Andrews, but I did actually think you were just interested in speaking to him to pick up tips with women.” FBI guy sighed heavily. If only I knew why you had picked up that ashtray. Down the alley you went, telling me to watch out while you ‘did a deal’. Shoulda caught on, you being an alien body swapper and everything. Guess I can’t do everything right.”
Frank was in serious danger of dying. Not from those insidious human disease he’d heard about, but of this guy and his smug attitude. The closest to smug you got with real Pete was the look of satisfaction on his face when he’d managed to stick his right leg between his bum cheeks.
“Or anything” he cheekily hit back.
Forgetting himself a minute Pete launched a kick at Frank’s new backside.
“That’s Wade’s arse, not mine!”
“If you were human you’d be diagnosed schizophrenic you realise that?”
“What?”
“Never mind. Now get in the car!” Frank felt cold metal at the back of his hair but acted pretty assured, baring in mind his present situation. Guess he was just glad the guy had finally shut up.

“FBI huh?” You are the best this country has to offer? Whoa, you were sure quick in catching me, tell me the pointy ears gave it away?” Wait, right you don’t know what I look like, cos I’m any one I want to be ha ha!” Frank stalled as he was gun lead to the car.
“Shut up freak” FBI Pete said through gritted teeth.
“No dude, you shut up.” And with that Frank swivelled around, head butting the Pete wannabe and slipping out of his cuffs easily with a delicate flick of his wrist.
As he pulled FBI Pete’s belt off and wrapped it round his throat Frank thought he’d get in a few choice phrases of his own.” Just cos I look human loser, doesn’t mean I don’t have an amazing capacity for getting out of seemingly impossible situations with apparent ease. Huh! Like a human could do that.”
“You obviously haven’t heard of James Bond”. They happened to be the last words FBI undercover agent Vincent Verdenez ever said; as his face was being pummelled- Frank decided strangulation was a bit boring and yesterday- he wished he’d watched those alien programmes on the Discovery Channel more closely. Bloody aliens he thought, a distinctive red liquid pouring from his mouth.

Wade was back. Getting the vacuum out to clean the mess, he thought for a second. Nah. He couldn’t. Think of the ladies. He walked into the kitchen opening the fridge, fully expecting a decent six pack of beer. He wasn’t disappointed. Pulling back the ring on a can, he settled into a thick armchair and sat watching Jerry Springer pretty content with his world. Especially after watching that show.

“Vince! You’re back! What happened with the bounty hunter alien guy?”
“Lets just say that’s Mars problem, not ours anymore”.
“You got a body, we need an autopsy?”
“Look he won’t be coming back, I threatened him with the lab, and luckily he’s seen the X-Files.”
“But I got needles ready!” The scientist almost seemed disappointed.
“Hey, you still got his assistant to play with.”

“Great! Look we have a new mission for you. Reckon you’re the man for the job. Need you to seduce this blonde. She’s got good assists. Ha! Anyway”…
The words faded as a brief smile hit ‘Vince’s’ lips. Having to put on an Italian-American accent was annoying, but he could live with it for a blonde. And he could always return back to Wade…