The Groupie's Lament
It all started
When I was a little girl.
I idolized pop stars,
Especially male ones
I knew I could never be one
So why not be with one?
This was the start.
Frank picked me up
In a run down pick up truck.
He told me I was perfect,
Promised a castle,
Servants waiting on me
Hand and foot.
Nothing is ever what it seems.
I would spend late nights
Dancing for him.
I was his muse,
His plaything,
For a time.
I was, as they say
A "regular Frankie fan"
But all great things come to an end,
And end they did.
Eddie showed up one day
Pizza in hand.
A regular Americana
Delivery boy.
He was beautiful.
He was both the death of me
And the love of my life.
He was an idiot
But he was the only thing
That gave me hope.
Unfortunately, Frank saw him first.
His desire was enough,
Eddie was stolen from his normal life,
Much as I was take from my routines
Of following low grade punk bands
Across the country.
I didn't mind sharing.
But Frank would have none of that.
I was cast away.
Like an old plaything
That a child tires of immediately
When the new model comes out.
I was reduced to servant level
With Riff Raff and Magenta.
I hated him.
He was no one.
A simple delivery boy.
A fat boy
Who rode a bike.
Why did he hold his interest so?
But yet… I couldn't help
Wanting him.
Being interested myself,
But why?
Who was he?
Why did every man
With a sax and a baritone voice
Inspire such desire within me?
I could not know
All I knew was that
I would share
Not Frank
But Eddie.
I was transferred
Like a wire of money from bank to bank
It happened in the dead of night.
No one said a word,
but both parties knew the exchange had happened.
Yet at the same time, the one giving me up
Did not care that he was letting me go.
I ran willingly to Eddie's arms.
He took me,
as I am sure he had taken so many others.
To him I was another groupie
But to me he wasn't just another
Rocker man.
He was my salvation in this place.
A pair of castoff shoes
always loves a new pair of feet,
yet the feet, though happy for protection,
will wonder why they are
wearing second rate shoes
rather than new ones.
I didn't care.
I was in someone's arms
And that was enough.
I never saw what came next.
Stupid of me.
But love often makes us stupid.
In my haze of love,
I did not see that another tired of
The object of my affections.
Just like me,
Eddie grew old.
Frank wanted the new toy again.
It seemed like a good thing at first.
Frank spent so much time in the lab
That I had more time with Eddie.
Everything was wonderful.
Until that day.
Frank's body had been prepared
All he needed was the brain.
"Just half" He said.
Eddie wasn't too smart though, and really,
what could a half-wit do with half a brain?
Frank didn't give him the choice.
He stole him in the night, took his brain,
And into the freezer he went.
He wasn't dead.
At least there was that.
I knew all I had to do was wait.
Let Frank become infatuated with his new toy,
And one night
Flip the lever on the deep freeze
And we would make our escape.
Even with a half brain, we could be in love.
I lay in wait.
Long nights passed me by.
I spent time with Magenta,
Though she was off with
her brother most times.
I swore to myself
I wouldn't dance until he was out.
When Frank announced the time for
His new project to be unveiled
I heaved a sigh of relief.
Soon it would be time.
All the Transylvanians scientists were invited.
Frank and the siblings had let on about
Where they came from
And I got the distinct feeling I didn't want to know.
Some strange guests arrived.
Losers with a flat tire.
Frank probably rigged it himself,
Preparing for when he got bored
Of his newest playmate.
Soon it was time.
I had to admit I was
A little exited.
Though things went wrong.
The switch was flipped too soon.
Magenta!
That bitch.
She knew my plans… and she ruined them.
Oh! But Eddie.
He was there, his head was split,
But he was still beautiful as ever.
I ran to him.
I was in his arms again.
He sang to me, only to me.
Oh, how we danced together.
It was bliss.
Frank hates bliss.
Frank fixed the happiness in the room
With an ice pick.
Hard to Eddie's head.
A mercy killing he called it.
Frank shows no mercy.
Here I sit.
Waiting for dinner.
Or the rest of my life.
Why should any of it matter anymore?
Well, I do hope Magenta serves something good.
Perhaps Meatloaf.