Episode 2-The Texas Chainsaw Misadventure

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"I'm so fucking bored!" Freddy howled as he kicked the back of Michael Myer's seat. Jason gritted his teeth together and clenched his fists angrily against the steering wheel of the old, painted Winnebago that was currently speeding down an old country Texas highway.

Just five more gosh-danged miles until we're in at Wal-Mart...Jason thought meaningfully as he pushed the gas pedals a little harder. Michael leaned forward a little and pointed at a meter on the dashboard with a concerned look under his plain-looking mask.

With a shaky hand he scratched onto a piece of paper, I think that you should slow down-this van is old and not ready to run that fast, Voorhees.

Ghostface laughed childishly and began to pound away on the back of Jason's seat with his dusty shoes, "Yeah, well I'm hungry!"

Michael turned around in his seat and for one brief second Freddy stopped kicking it. Michael shoved a piece of paper at Ghostface and stared at him expectantly.

What the living fuck in hell do you want me to do about it you ever loving queer?

Ghostface handed the note off to Freddy who read it and laughed hysterically. Bitterly Jason pressed the gas pedal even harder, passing up a number of brambles and bushes and stirring up a fine line of dust behind the Winnebago.

With dismay Jason suddenly heard Freddy call out from the back with much relish, "I really have to piss...bad!"

Michael pounded his bony fists on the dash board angrily and grumbled. Although he didn't speak his meaning was clear; God in hell, fuck it! God just fuck it then fuck me and bury me in a motherfucking pit!

The only two talking slashers looked at each other and Ghostface elbowed Freddy in the ribs and whispered something that Kruger found hilarious. In his nasally voice Ghostface said dauntingly, "I gotta take a leak to, man! Guess that booze is finally getting to me!"

But suddenly the van jerked and belched; smoke began to flow steadily from its hood and Jason slammed on the brakes hard, so hard that they went out and they were left skidding along the dust old road, the shape of a gas station just peeking over the horizon.

Freddy howled out as his old seatbelt broke and he was flung onto the floor of the van and his face was buried in Ghostface's shoes. The whole Winnebago jerked one last time and finally came to a stop in the middle of the abandoned highway. Jason raised his hockey mask-clad head and wretched open the door. A few seconds later he returned, beckoning to Michael to follow him outside.

"What's wrong, Voorhees?" Freddy called out the window amused, "Wanting a little alone time with Myers? Don't fuck him too hard, now!"

"Yeah," Ghostface yelled, joining in the joke, "go easy on him! You know how scrawny ol' Michael is!"

Although Freddy hadn't expected it-usually slashers didn't talk-he became a little tiffed when Jason climbed moodily back into the van and didn't pay him any mind. Ghostface, however, was oblivious to anyone's feelings but his own and he persisted with the joke.

"Wow that was fast," he said laughing, "are you sure that you did it right?" and he burst out into obnoxious bursts of laughter; Jason didn't respond immediately just put his head down on the dash board of the Winnebago and gripped the steering wheel hard.

Freddy rolled his eyes and settled down in his seat as Michael walked up and tapped on the now cracked window, his evil black eyes glittering with anxiety. With much effort, Jason rolled down the window and they communicated silently:

Michael: The motor's shot. Not going anywhere now...

Jason: No fucking way! Now what're we gonna do?

Michael: Nothing we can do. This road is deserted. All we can do is push the damn van to the nearest gas station and pray that they can fix it.

With a look of quiet desperation in his eyes Jason searched the parched horizon for any sign of salvation and pointed his rotting, ever dripping wet hand at a building that just peeked over the dusty clouds.

Jason: What about that?

Michael's gaze followed Jason's and he sighed heavily and nodded. Silently he walked to the back of the bus. Jason nodded also and motioned for Ghostface and Freddy to follow him outside.

It was blistering hot out; even the slight, rare breeze that sometimes stirred up the dust was hot and baked their skin. As soon as Freddy stepped outside and followed Jason to the back end of the Winnebago, he began to sweat profusely and with his clawed hand he wiped the sweat away from his eyes and put one hand on his hip.

"What do I have to do? I'm not pushing that motherfucking van all the way to that damn gas station!" he howled, watching the other slashers take their positions at the back of the van, ready to push. Ghostface glared at him from underneath his mask.

"Oh yes you will," he hissed, "this is not just our fucking van, Kruger, this van is yours to!"

Freddy shrugged and went back inside the van, in the driver's seat and crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. "I'll drive."

The others outside the van all exchanged looks but within a few seconds the van budged and slowly rolled in the direction of the gas station.

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They had to take turns steering from inside of the van, even though mostly that was Freddy's job, and eventually with much time and an extreme amount of dedication, the three slashers, plus the freeloading Freddy, got to the station.

"Wow," Ghostface muttered as they entered the old station that smelled of dead animal flesh and rotting eggs, "real nice place..."

Freddy jabbed him with his clawed hand then smiled at the aged woman who ran the gas station. "Shut it....umm...hello. We're just passing through-"

Michael: Yeah. On the way to Wal-Mart. Can you imagine?

"-and we are in need of-"

"Yer van broke down?" she asked accusingly as Jason took a step up to her counter and tapped at the glass that housed large hunks of pig flesh with flies buzzing round it. "Yep. See that happen a lot down here-but just don' come in this here town causin' no trouble cause we don' take kindly to that."

Jason: Oh, no. That's not why we're here. Our van broke down and we need gas or a mechanic or something.

As the old woman read the scribbled note she looked up at Jason Voorhees puzzled and adjusted her glasses on her nose. "Now Sonny, what I don' understand is why you need our help. You're god damned big enough to fix yer own god damned van, ain't ye? Looked like you played some football in your day as a matter of fact-"

"Listen lady, it don't matter what the Hockey Puck did when he was younger, all that matters is that we get our van fixed. Got it?" Ghostface snapped, reaching inside of his sleeve for his legendary knife. The old woman smiled, knowing what trap she had caught them in.

With relish she shook her head and pointed at the door with one grizzled finger. "No. Why no, Sonny, I don't believe that Jesus himself could even fix yer van now. Not that it matters now...nothing matters now. Now get the hell outta my station a'fore I make you!"

Michael: Wow, she was nice wasn't she?

Jason: It doesn't matter how nice she was. What matters is that we get our van fixed...god, Ghostface, why'd you have to go and say that?

"Oh, sure! It's my fault!" Ghostface pouted, kicking up dust with his once perfectly shiny and black polished shoes. Freddy turned to him angrily and pimp slapped him across his black-and-white masked face. Ghostface reeled back and Michael hurried to help him up as Jason stood there glowering at them all.

"You motherfucking gigolo!" Ghostface howled as he got up to his feet with Michael's resentful help. His ghost-like mask now had little thin slits in it and blood streamed out from under it. Finally Jason came to his senses and slowly wrote in the dust:

I'm gonna go look for help; there has to be someone in this motherfucking place who can help.

Michael nodded and walked up to the bigger slasher, seeming even shorter. Yeah, me too. We better go quick though if we wanna be back before the sun goes down.

Freddy sighed and sat down in the middle of the parking lot, getting dust all over his dark pants and waved them off. "Well then go, you cock sucking preschoolers! We'll be waiting right here when you get back."

Jason wasn't listening anymore and neither was Michael. They had already started off down the road, heading to the little barn that stood a little further off down the road, maybe a mile. Ghostface sat down on the dust next to Freddy, cradling his bleeding cheek.

"Owww...that really hurt!" he whined, staring at Freddy through his ghostly mask.

"I've got a bad feeling about this place-it ain't right. Almost like something from a low-budget horror movie..." Freddy muttered more to himself than anyone else, staring off into the sunset that was forming on the horizon, a bloody red color.

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I don't like this place...

Michael Myers wrote as he and Jason approached the old barn. Jason stopped and looked around the old yard with his hands on his hips; old, rusted cars surrounded the barn and he couldn't help noticing the things that lay in the grass. Fine little shards of bone, sometimes whole teeth. He shuddered but kept walking all the same.

Michael grabbed his shoulder with trembling hands. This isn't a good idea. I think that we should just turn back now.

Jason's shining brown eyes scanned the scene and he shook his head. No. Look around, it's dead round here. No one cares enough to demolish these cars...no one-what was that?

Michael whirled around crazily and gasped. What? Where? There's nothing here, Voorhees!

No, no. I saw something! Jason wrote, stopping in his tracks and pushing Michael out of the way. From a nearby rusted car there came a high-pitched squeaking sound and for a second Jason thought that it was nothing but two teenagers fucking around but a large man dressed in a butcher's apron and rubber gloves burst out of the trunk of the car.

Although it didn't seem like a threat at first, the stranger brought out a chainsaw and brandished the killing machine above his head as he pulled the chord multiple times and made it sputter to life.

Jason didn't need to be told to run; within about two second he had started for Michael, grabbed his elbow and led him towards the dirt road.

Michael: I thought you said that we weren't passing through Travis County, Voorhees!

Jason: I didn't!

But before they could get past the junkyard of cars Jason's foot caught on a piece of scrap medal and he fell, feeling his hockey mask absorb most of the impact. Immediately he felt the chainsaw demolishing his flesh and chunking it up as it cut into his side, nearly cutting down to his spinal chord. He let out a gurgling scream and nearby Michael really did utter the first real human sound that Jason had ever heard him make-a real human scream.

Leatherface made a sick laughing sound as he went over to Michael who was trying to protect himself with his now pitiful-looking butcher knife. Leatherface lashed out with his foot and kicked the knife out of his hand and then took the tall but oddly un muscular Michael and hauled him over to a the branch of a tree and handcuffed him.

Once he was handcuffed, he hung Michael from a branch, letting his feet touch the ground. Leatherface's chainsaw was now smoking, but he ignored the thick blanket and cut the poor boy up the crotch, all the way to his abdomen. Michael let out one last cry then let his head drop onto his chest and his eyes close.

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"They sure have been gone a long time...ya know, just to be looking for help..."

"Oh, shut up Ghostface," Freddy hissed, hugging his knees to his chest. The sun was gone now, far below the horizon and still there was so sign of Jason or Michael. "This sucks...hard balls. How are we supposed to move the whole whore-blowing Winni if we ain't got no muscle?"

Ghostface was indignant as he scoffed, "Puh-lease! Kruger, I can get that van moved well enough-"

"Oh god!" Freddy said as he yanked up Ghostface's sleeve to expose his pale and scrawny arm, "This ain't gonna cut it, G.F. This ain't gonna cut it at all. We gotta go look for him."

"What? Why?" Ghostface whined as he followed Freddy to the edge of the gas station's sidewalk, "Where are we gonna go?"

He shrugged and started walking down the road, his burned hands deep in his pants pockets. After awhile of walking in silence they came to an old barn but didn't stay there for long. Soon their attention came to an old house that lay just beyond the barn. Without hesitation Freddy made his way to it.

Ghostface grabbed his arm and stared at the house perilously. "No way, Kruger! No fucking way am I going in there!"

Freddy sighed and removed the arm from his shoulder and turned around. A police car with sirens blaring was coming down the highway towards them fast.

"Oh, shit," Freddy whispered as a police officer got out of the car with a sigh and made their way towards them. As he approached them, the smell of liquor and tobacco became distinct.

The sheriff wore a dull badge and smiled wryly. "Howdy there, boys. How's the road been treatin' ya?"

Ghostface leaned close to Freddy and muttered, "God, why does everyone down here talk like a hick?"

The sheriff's head snapped in his direction and his smile faded. "What you say boy? Ain't here to cause no trouble I hope...not like I been told ya done. Now I gotta arrest ya-"

"What?!" Freddy asked, staring at the old man with hate, "How can you arrest us when we haven't done nothing wrong?!"

"Whellp, I reckon that you and your lil' friend there was a'raisin' hell down at the gas station so now I gotta take ya in. C'mon, boy. Don't make this harder than it already is, now."

"B-but...jeez, Kruger, you were right-these people ain't right!" Ghostface said. The sheriff smiled and shook his head. With his pointy-toed boots he kicked at some dust and it dissolved into a little cloud then disappeared. From behind him a large, looming shape came creeping up from the darkness of night.

Ghostface reached over and tapped Freddy on his shoulder, backing away slightly. "W-what is that thing?"

"Oh c'mon now! That ain't no way to be; this here's just ol' Thomas Brown Hewitt. Whadya say, Tom? Been getting some heads tonight, boy?" the Sheriff asked the looming figure who nodded politely then pulled on a chord; a chainsaw roared to life.

The old man laughed wretchedly and pointed at Freddy and Ghostface and howled madly, "Go get 'em, Hewitt! Ain't got ferever!"

Leatherface ran away from behind the Sheriff and lifted his chainsaw in the air and towards the two slashers. Instinctively Freddy yanked Ghostface out of the way of the chainsaw and into the long grass that bordered the Hewitt house.

While Leatherface stood where they had just been standing, looking around wildly and grasping his chainsaw as the sheriff yelled at him.

Timidly Freddy reached over and felt for any sign of Ghostface and felt a smooth piece of black fabric; a piece of Ghostface's costume. Oh well, Freddy thought as he jumped to his feet ran off a ways, in the direction of the woods.

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Once Ghostface realized what was happening his head popped up from the long grass and Leatherface stopped whirling around and around and stared dead at him. With a roar he started towards him, waving his chainsaw high in the air.

"No, wait!" Ghostface yelled as the chainsaw cut deep into his back, through anything and everything; flesh, blood, bones, and tissues. As the warm blood seeped out of his wounds he felt the breath leave his lungs and his head dropped onto the ground, getting dirt onto his black-and-white mask.

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"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Oh ever loving shit..." Freddy muttered to himself as he ran wildly through the woods, past fallen trees and over some body parts like teeth and tongues. Behind him the distant, psychotic whirring of a chainsaw sounded unwaveringly.

Unable to move another step, he stopped in the middle of the forest, panting hard and looked around with a dazed look; the chainsaw was drawing closer now, he could see the smoke illuminated in the moonlight.

With one last desperate sigh he slid behind a tree and held what little breath he had left to gather. Wiping the seat from his forehead he peeked out from behind the thick-trunked tree and peered at Leatherface with a cautious interest.

He stood there with a quiet expression under his mask made of human skins. Freddy gasped as a whisper of breath escaped his lips and he coughed. Leatherface swung his head in his direction and his shifty eyes glared at him as he thrust the chainsaw deep between his ribs, making the blood flow.

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Dripping. Dripping. Dripping. A constant dripping, driving Freddy Kruger mad. He awoke in Thomas Hewitt's dark, dripping cellar, smelling rot and pure disgust. He shuddered, observing the gray new morning light that now streamed in from the blinds. Suddenly a scrap of paper flew in front of him; a note open and ready to read.

Jason: Hey, Kruger. Glad you decided to join us.

Freddy looked around and saw Jason hanging by a pair of handcuffs from a metal fan on the ceiling. "Hey," he whispered just loud enough for Jason to hear him, "hey, Hockey Puck?! Where are we?"

Another note fell at his feet.

Jason: In Leatherface's basement, of course! We have to get out now! Soon Leatherface will be back to kill us...

"Hold on," Freddy hissed as he looked around at the bathtub that he was sitting in, full of chilling water. With one last exertion of his strength he hauled himself out and landed sopping wet on the floor, gasping for breath.

With his one clawed hand he worked his fingers around and cut the rope that had been binding them and ran over to where Jason was hanging and sawed off his bindings as well then motioned over to Michael.

"You...go get him now because he is the strongest besides you and haul his ass outta here; I'll get Ghostface."

Jason nodded quickly and fell to his knees as his ropes were untied. With an agility and quietness that was unique to people of his gigantic size, he made his way over to Michael Myers and untied him as Freddy cursed and fumbled to save Ghostface.

A steady thumping like the sound of footsteps was coming to them now, as was the sound of shouting and conversation.

"Shit! Holy fuck balls, Voorhees will you come help me please?" Freddy called to his companion. Jason turned and nodded, Michael slung over his shoulder.

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Ghostface's limp body fell onto the wet ground and made a loud splashing noise just as Leatherface entered his underground domain. Behind him he lugged a heavy chainsaw and a dead corpse but he dropped both of these as he saw that Freddy and the others had escaped.

In a panicked frenzy, he raced to pull the chord on the chainsaw but Freddy had already slipped past him and out the door; Jason being to big to squeeze past him had simply tackled Leatherface, sending him sprawling on the ground.

Out the basement they ran like madmen and past the shocked faces of the rest of what Freddy assumed was the Hewitt family-including the sheriff-and into the gathering daylight. It soon became a chore to haul Ghostface's limp frame but it wasn't nearly as bad as having to haul Michael's around, making the poor boy's feet drag the ground because he was so tall.

As the Winnebago came into view Freddy quickened his pace and wretched open the door. Throwing Ghostface's body into the back he jumped into the drivers seat and observed the now full gas meter with a satisfied smile. Jason flung Michael's body into the back unceremoniously and joined Freddy in the front seat with a relieved look on his masked face as the van rolled out of sight and Leatherface was left standing in the dust.

With a shaky hand he dug out a scrap piece of paper out of the breast pocket of his long-sleeved shirt and scribbled something on it.

So. We still need to go to Wal-Mart, you know? For the Cocoa Puffs.

Freddy sighed and removed his signature top hat and put it on the dash board lovingly. "Yeah, well. I guess we'll just have to make a quick trip a little later."

"Hey..." Ghostface said groggily from the backseat, "what happened?"

Since Jason was too tired to write any more notes, Freddy told him everything and Ghostface just listened and nodded. Finally he asked, "But we're horror movie killers...we can't die, remember?"

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After about an hour of driving down the highway back the way they had come at an immeasurable rate, another van nearly hit them; a van full of teenagers. Three boys and two girls, all heading in Leatherface's direction...Freddy didn't say a word.