Episode 15-Turn on, tune in and drop out

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Michael shuddered and hugged his knees to his chest. This blows.

Next to him Ghostface sighed. "Not as much as you do...and don't act like you didn't like it at the time-"

"Hey I've got and idea?" they both stared at Freddy.

"What?"

"Well how about you both just shut the living fuck up. Me and Voorhees don't want to hear about how you raped Myers, we just want to-"

"I didn't rape him! He wanted it!" Ghostface said defensively.

Jason rolled his eyes. I'm surprised you both even remember doing it...you were both so high at the time. Which must mean that you would've had to do it more that once to remember doing it at all...

Michael looked a little puzzled. Slow down man...you're blowing my mind. Besides I didn't even want to do it the first time.

"Yeah," Ghostface said, "but it's not as though it matters...in the 60s free love was a common practice-"

"Then why the fuck did the 60s end I wonder?" Freddy said mockingly, "Why the fuck did the hippies go outta style? Maybe it was because they all died of STD s!"

"Ha ha hardy har har that's funny Kruger. You can tease me and Michael all you want-"

Michael: Don't use our names in the same sentences fuck face.

"-SHUT UP MYERS, I'm trying to make a point...yeah you can clown us all you want but you know that you've screwed around with other guys before."

Freddy shook his head. "I can honestly say that I haven't and we should really stop talking about it now..."

"I know who it was!" Ghostface exclaimed. Michael glanced at him.

Who?

"Voorhees!"

"Okay and now we're ending the conversation..."

Michael: It's Voorhees isn't it?

Jason shook his head. Fuck no.

Ghostface leaned close to Michael and whispered, "See? He said fuck-"

Michael recoiled somewhat. Don't get within twenty feet of me.

"Fine! I don't like you anyway! Asshole..." Ghostface muttered as he crossed his arms and stared at the blank T.V. Screen. "Hey why isn't anything on?"

Freddy shrugged. "I can't hear over you and Myers' obsessive flirting. It's disgusting."

Jason nodded. Yeah it should really stop. We should have never gone to Taco Bell and left them alone...

"Well then can we listen to some of my old Beatles records if you're not going to watch T.V.?" Ghostface asked, perking up a little.

"Don't see why not. If it's the only thing that will shut your cock-sucking mouth up-"

"Good! Be right back!"

And in a few seconds Ghostface was back carrying armfuls of CDs and a stereo. Under his mask Michael raised his eyebrows. When did you get that stereo?

Jason looked equally amazed. Yeah and how have you been keeping it a secret? The apartment is only two rooms-bathroom and living room/kitchen.

"Boy you guys sure aren't all that observant-I've been keeping it in the cabinet under the bathroom sink. Jeez..." Ghostface muttered as he plugged in the stereo and picked a CD; the case had a yellowish thing on it and written on the front of it were the words The Beatles Yellow Submarine.

"But I thought that's where you kept your drug stash." Freddy said as he picked up as CD case and read it. "And besides that, who even listens to CDs anymore?"

"I do...and I listen to these whenever I take acid...it pretty much ensures a good trip."

The mellow music began to play and it echoed throughout the apartment; from Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds to Yellow Submarine...it was all very mesmerizing...so mesmerizing that within about 10 minutes Freddy was out cold, sleeping like he'd never slept before. And so the Beatles weave their web of magic wonders yet again...

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"Hey Myers...get your foot out my face!"

Get off of me then!

"I can't! Voorhees is on top of me! Voorhees...you gotta move-"

Freddy shifted in his sleep and opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Michael glared up at him, the collected weight of four serial killers pressing down on him. Well what the hell do you think? Fuck face's stupid Beatles CDs put us to sleep!

Freddy got to his feet, looked around and scratched his bald head. Suddenly one man, a young man with long hair, no shirt, filthy pants and flowers in his hair came up to him and handed him a daisy. Freddy recoiled as the man smiled and said, "Love to you my brother."

"Who the fu-"

Ghostface yanked on his sleeve, forcing him away from the young man. "Don't talk Kruger...don't you know what this place is?" he asked as he guided the others down the street and looked around. They all looked clueless.

Jason: No. We can't say that we do.

Exasperatedly Ghostface slapped his forehead. "That was a hippie!" when they still looked clueless he spread his arms wide, as if trying to hug the air, "Guys we're not in San Antionio anymore-we're in Haight-Ashbury..."

Michael looked even more confused. Hey-ass Berry what?

"Haight-Ashbury...you know? The place where hippiedom was born? In 1967 I'd expect-"

"We're what?!"

Jason groaned. But my mother always said that hippies were dope-smoking cat eaters that smelled bad-

Ghostface shook his head. "Some were clean but for the most part...yes. They smelled. They smelled very bad. But now we have to smell bad to. I expect all we need to blend in is a few flowers, a loss of shirts, and some psychedelic paint colors..."

Freddy stared at him. "What? Why the fuck do we-"

"Don't say that word...hippies don't curse...usually..."

"Well fine...why the frick do we have to change? What could possibly go wrong?"

Next to them two young hippies were now pestering Jason and Michael to take some LSD from them. Ghostface ignored Freddy's question and jumped on the deal. "How much?"

The female hippie smiled and said, "It's free dude. There's plenty enough to go around, so why keep it all? Besides you and your friends here look like some pretty groovy cats...you dig?"

Her male companion nodded. "Yeah and besides; how groovy does it feel to go against the man? All those conformists and pigs need to be taught a lesson."

Ghostface smiled under his mask. "I like how you think brother-I'll take it."

The girl kindly handed over the little tabs of acid and grabbed the boy's hand. "Much love brother."

"And peace to you!" Ghostface called as they walked away. "Hmm...perhaps I could get used to this place..."

Jason shook his head and smacked him right in the mouth. FUCK NO YOU WILL NOT!

Ghostface whimpered and shook his head. "Language...please Jason-"

Take us back now!

"I can't-I expect that the only way to get back would be to play the Yellow Submarine album again but first we have to find it...and before we do that we have to learn to blend in."

Michael sighed. How do we do that? I'm sure that it will involve taking our shirts off and painting our masks psychedelic.

Freddy shook his head. "I ain't doing it."

Ghostface glared at him. "You have to...don't you get it? No slasher movies-or at least none of ours-have even been made yet! Myers was the first to be made out of all of us and annoyingly enough the youngest...he doesn't come along till 1978!"

Jason shrugged. So what? What does that have to do with-

Michael rolled his eyes. Haven't you ever seen Back to the Future? If someone sees us now and recognizes later in the movies and says 'Hey Michael Myers is real, I met him up in Haight' it will destroy the future as we know it!

Freddy scoffed. "Dramatic much. But I'm burnt all over...how do we hide that?"

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It was horrible. They were all shirtless, shoe less and their faces-or masks in most cases-were covered with flowers painted in all sorts of colors and flowers covered every available inch of their exposed bodies. "Okay." Freddy hissed as he glared at Ghostface, "Now what genius?"

"We look for the Beatles Yellow Submar-oh shit! I forgot!"

Jason groaned. What now?

"The Yellow Submarine soundtrack isn't released until 1999!"

Michael: Yeah...so? That'll just make it easier to find, won't it?

Sadly Ghostface shook his head. "No. I'm afraid it will only make it harder. No one can get a hold of that soundtrack-no one! Just imagine if some poor hippie were to find that album and then what? What would the Beatles do? It might even erase them from time...who knows! Then there will be no Charles Manson...nothing."

All around them hippies preached and nodded and exchanged drugs...supreme madness...Freddy was beginning to get a headache. "How the fuck do we get it back?"

"We'll spit up-Jason you go east, Freddy go west and Michael and me will go every other way possible..."

Michael was quick to protest. No, no, no. A thousand times no. But maybe we should stay in pairs...the 60s were confusing and really hot times...I mean with all those bra less hippie chicks-

Jason smiled under his mask. Careful Myers. Getting a little stiff there.

Why are you looking?

"Okay! We get it! Jason as a hard on for Myers and so does fuck face...god Myers...the ladies man huh? ANYWAY...maybe me and fuck face should go one way and you two non-talkers the other. Agreed?"

They all nodded even though Ghostface seemed sulky about this.

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Freddy sighed. Him and Ghostface had been searching for two hours and still came up with nothing. He sat down on a curb and rubbed his bare, tired and filthy feet. "What happens if we can't find it? How will we even play it? The 60s still had black and white T. V.s for God's sake! We can't just go out and buy a boom...box..." he was surprised to find that Ghostface was doubled over in laughter. He glared at him. "What's so funny?"

"It...it's just that you are totally conformed man! You need to chill out. We're in the 60s for God's sake! We should just-"

Suddenly a rather short man, probably only about five foot two with shoulder-length, brown, sort of curly but mostly messy hair and a stubbly face. He was a little guy, so little that under normal circumstances Freddy would have ignored him completely if the wasn't carrying a brightly colored case with the words The Beatles Yellow Submarine printed on it.

Freddy pointed to the guy and asked miraculously, "Who is that kid...he seems so familiar-"

Ghostface was solemn as he got to his feet and said, "That is Charles Manson...he just got here I expect. You know ol' Charlie, right Kruger? In just two years he'll have gathered up a group of misfits who worship the ground he walks on and will coach them through two nights of what might be the most grisly murders in the annals of American history-the LaBiancas and Sharon Tate among an estimated thirty something other victims or more, many unidentified. Sharon Tate will be eight months pregnant when his Family members kill her-"

"Fuck face that's real kick ass but he's getting away...come on!" and Freddy jumped to his feet and bolted after Charles Mason.

Once he caught up to Charles he jumped in front of him, his arms spread, attempting to block the boy's path. Charles stared at them quizzically. "Are you-"

"Shut up! You can't talk! You're gonna be a murderer! Now give me-" he yanked the CD out of Manson's grip, "-the CD. Thanks! See you in a decade or so when you're trying to get parole-bye!" and without another word Freddy hurried off, leaving Ghostface in the dust.

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Michael sighed and scratched his head. Now what? We haven't found it anywhere and as soon as Kruger finds it he'll probably leave us behind-

Jason shook his head. Nope. Ghostface will make sure that Kruger sticks around just so he can save you, his perfect little girlfriend...or boyfriend.

Yeah, Michael wrote, rolling his eyes, ha ha. Funny. But come on, we should keep-hey what's that?

A loud rabble was coming from a nearby street corner. Young people with flowers in their hair and in the girls' case no bras were all joining hands and raising a ruckus. Yeah that's right, a ruckus. Jason looked and shrugged. Hippie protesters. I dunno...fuck face would probably know, though.

A rather young male hippie no older than 19 smiled at them and waved them over. "Welcome my brothers. Do you wish to-"

No. Jason wrote and shoved the note in the boy's face before grabbing Michael's wrist and leading them quickly away. Michael stared at him oddly.

Uh...Voorhees.

What you idiot?

He swallowed. You're touching my hand.

Jason glared at him. It's not your hand you god damned...it's your wrist. And we had to get outta there. I don't like this place. It's not right...people wandering around the street offering to give you free food and drugs...who does that?

Michael shrugged. The hippies did-or in our case do.

Before Jason could come up with a response Freddy had cut in, brandishing the CD in his face. "See? While you and Myers were wasting time doing the Dew we were off-"

Jason: Doing the Dew? Is that some cleaver way of alluding to the possible idea that we had-

Ghostface laughed and slapped his shoulder, as if he had said a joke. "Oh Voorhees...you're on your way...now that we've found the CD we can get home...and you can stop holding Myers' hand now."

I wasn't holding it, I was-

"Yeah, yeah. We'll have enough time for that once we get home! Now...we just have to find a stereo and-"

"Already done!" Ghostface exclaimed as he held up the stereo up over his head. Freddy scoffed.

"Where the fuck did you find that thing?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I just did. Now if we can kindly stop questioning the plot and get on with it...look I've got batteries in my pocket." and he jammed the batteries into the thing and then let the Beatles weave their magic, putting them into a deep sleep...once again.

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Freddy dared to open his eyes; it still wasn't home. In fact, it was the exact opposite of home. "Ah shit...we're not home. Fuck face!"

"Huh...what's wrong?"

He rolled his eyes and got to his dirty feet and looked around. Hippies of all kinds were sitting on the green grass, spread out on towels and in some cases sitting on top of psychedelic painted Volkswagen. Ghostface perked up.

"We're in the first Woodstock I do believe..."

Jason scratched his head. What's the date?

"The Woodstock Music and Art Festival was held from August 15-18 in 1969." he recited, getting to his feet and searching his pockets for the Yellow Submarine album. He cursed but picked up the stereo and held it against his chest protectively. "Can you believe that just on August 9 Charles Manson slaughtered Sharon Tate?"

Michael sighed. No I can't. And something else I can't believe that you're still trying to stick that useless 1960s trivia stuff in our heads! Nothing interesting happened in the 60s and just because we're here-well...we can't make it interesting.

"Yeah well then can you believe that a year ago-April 4, 1968 in Memphis Tennessee-Martin Luther King Jr. was-"

Jason glared at him. We don't want to hear it! We just want to get home! Where's the album?

Ghostface chuckled and hesitated. "Wellllllll...funny story..."

"If you lost it I swear to God..."

He shook his head quickly. "No...I just don't know it's exact location...exactly."

Michael: Oh really? How the fuck are we gonna find it in all this mess?

"Simple!" Ghostface said, still clutching the stereo close to him, "Just look in the right place. I think that we should all spilt up this time...after all, there's a lot of other people here to screw around with-"

Freddy clinked his clawed fingers together. "Nope. No fucking way. You can't just go around screwing people...we don't want any unexpected surprises when we get back to the apartment. For now we'll just have to keep our eyes and ears open. Simple as that."

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Just as a loud, notorious African American man wearing a feathered boa and sporting an afro stepped out on the far away stage and began to sing Purple Haze Freddy began searching everywhere for the album. He couldn't help but stop and stare at the singer, though.

For some reason the music and performance just mellowed him out...God he could play. Backwards and even with his teeth. Amazing. A young hippie saw him staring and tapped his shoulder. This hippie wore a pain vest and had long, at least waist length hair and bell bottoms with small, rounded glasses tinted purplish.

"Hey man...how's it goin'?"

Freddy shrugged. "Dunno. Okay I guess."

The boy puffed on a joint and let out a subtle cough and pounded his chest with his fist. "Ah yeah man...ain't nothin' like it, you dig? But you know who that man is...up on the stage man?"

He shook his head. "Nu-uh."

The hippie boy leaned closer, his breath smelling of smoke. "That's the Hendrix man! Totally groovy, huh?"

Freddy backed away and stared at him. "You mean Jimmi Hendrix?"

The hippie nodded and then burst into random boughs of coughing. Freddy glared at him skeptically and took the joint, puffed it once and then threw it in the grass. "Hey man what's the-"

"Trust me. You don't wanna be doing that shit. Now I gotta go...I'm looking for something."

Now the hippie ignored the loss of his joint-that sounds rather odd, doesn't it?-and perked up. "Ah yeeeeeeah man!" and he leaned closer again just as he reached over to another hippie's marijuana, snatched it and put it in his pocket. "We're all searchin' for somethin'! Sometimes we just can't find it but when we do..." he slapped Freddy's shoulder and his eyes got wide with wonder, "BAM!"

Freddy stared at him, utterly confused. "Bam?"

The hippie boy nodded and rolled a joint then started smoking it. "Yeah man...bam!" and he breathed out a thick line of smoke.

"Wow. You're really high right now, aren't you?" he asked and without thinking the hippie nodded. Freddy sighed. "Well listen. I gotta go find my fri-roommates." the hippie nodded but didn't make any motion to leave him be. Freddy cleared his throat. "Uh...you wanna come along?"

He laughed. "Ha! Heck yeah-"

"Then come on. We gotta find fuck fa-Ghostface" and Freddy pushed forward as he walked past all manner of hippies.

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Ghostface laughed highly and joined hands with some other hippies and began swaying back and forth on the roof of a psychedelic colored van singing the words to Purple Haze...

"Purple haze all in my eyes-" stoned laughter, "-uhh...don't know if it's day or night! You got me blowin', blowin' my mind." then they all sang together, "Is it tomorrow or just the end of time?!"

Ghostface doubled over in laughter as he took a joint from a passing hippie, puffed on it and then handed it back to him. Coughing out smoke he wheezed, "T-thanks man."

Freddy was livid when he spotted him, being all 'kum ba yah' with the hippies. Immediately he jumped up on top of the hippie van that Ghostface was dancing on top of and pulled him down. The hippie boy followed him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Heeeey man. Chill out." the hippie boy said as he found yet another joint to puff on.

Ghostface shrugged and giggled. "Ha! You're funny! I like you..."

"Ah shit...he's stoned..." without knowing what else to do Freddy slapped him across his face. Ghostface recoiled and gripped his psychedelic painted mask.

"Hey maaaaaan...what's your beef?"

"What's my what? Look idiot...we gotta find Jason and Michael. The more time I spend here the more it sort of hypnotizes me."

Ghostface's mind seemed to snap back to the present. "Jason...Michael...oh yeah! I remember him from that time I-"

Freddy nodded and helped him to his feet. "Yeah. Let's not relive that, shall we? Now come on, let's go find them." and they all hopped off the van.

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It turned out that Michael was already being searched for by Jason. He found his companion sitting in a circle with some other hippies, the beginnings of some sort of orgy. Jason glared at him and yanked Michael out of the circle.

What the fuck are you doing?

Michael just had a dreamy look in his eyes as he pulled out tabs upon tabs of LSD from his pocket and pushed them at Jason. Man...they make you see stuff...get away! Quite suddenly he lashed out at Jason, his limbs waving about...you look just like my sister that I killed when I was little...God I thought that I killed you...what are you doing here Judith?

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. Trying not to make it obvious-at the real Woodstock there were absolutely no acts of violence reported; no muggings, stabbings or rapes and everyone was high-he smacked Michael right in the head. The other hippies were too immersed in their orgy to see anything. They didn't even pay attention as Jason draped Michael over his broad shoulders and walked away.

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Jason caught up with Freddy and Ghostface just as they were about to give in, stop looking and just remain a part of the 1960s forever. Freddy looked somewhat angry when he showed up, as if something precious had been snatched away from him.

"What the fuck's up, hockey puck? Found Myers?"

Jason nodded and let Michael's still unconscious body fall onto the ground. Digging in his pocket he brought out the Yellow Submarine album. Yeah. And I found the CD.

The hippie stared at it miraculously. Of course CDs hadn't been invented yet, so all he could think to do was unglue the joint from his mouth and pull his hair back from his eyes. "Whoa man! What's that?" just as he reached out his hand to touch it Freddy snatched it from his grasp.

Freddy shook his head firmly and took the CD out of its case and gently put it in the stereo that he had been hauling around. "Sorry...what did you say your name was again?"

The hippie boy shrugged. "Curtis." they all stared at him. Ghostface let out an obnoxious burst of laughter.

"What? What kind of hippie is named Curtis?"

He shrugged as the music began paying, drowning out the now continuous hum of the Grateful Dead as they began playing. Curtis looked mesmerized and his eyes began to get heavy. Freddy sighed. "Sorry Curtis...it's for you're own good..." and he took the boy's joint and slapped it out of his hand. Curtis jumped and glanced down at the joint, now unlit and smothered in the grass.

Just before they were blasted back to the sleepy future Freddy heard the young hippie exclaim, "Hey man! What's the deal...that ain't groovy you dig? I didn't think that you was one of them sick cats like that..."

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Freddy gasped. "What...what just happened?"

Ghostface chuckled softly. "I think that you just had a revelation Mr. Kruger. Tell me, what have you learned today?"

Jason rubbed his head. All I got was a headache...but we're back home.

Michael seemed annoyed by this and heaved a huge sigh. Unfortunately. I was just about to get fucked by, like, at least a dozen hippie chicks before you came along Voorhees!

"Well I'm just thankful that we're home." Freddy said as he reached for the remote and switched on the T.V. "Now things will be exactly how they're supposed to be-all T.V. And no history of any kind or Beatles music. Jason would you please?"

Jason jumped to his feet, picked up the stereo and nodded. You don't have to ask me twice. Even though Ghostface tackled him and raised hell, the stereo was still chucked over the edge of the balcony. And that was the end of that.

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If you thought that this episode was a little-dare I say it?-boring I'm sorry. I can understand if you don't really know a lot about the 60s and don't desire to, but I absolutely love everything hippie. So I'm sorry. But for future reference, there won't be any more time traveling shenanigans so from now on you'll actually know what is going on...or at least I hope so. :)