Fixin' Leaks and Leeks

While the Kreepy Killer Korn Kraze-Maze may be krawlin’ with hella’ fun, I think I’d rather slither up to the bonfire for an even cheaper thrill: a ghost story. Cheap thrills are scarily scarce, so I’m coming in clutch with another Fixin’ Leaks ‘n Leeks “shocktober” tradition: a ghost story where the Fixin’ Leaks ‘n Leeks Team (Nate, Alex, and Cecilia) are turned into fictional characters for a frighteningly fun time.

So, get out of the Kreepy Killer Korn Maze and grab some kandy korn or a korpse reviver kocktail and enjoy this completely made-up story that would have been even easier to write if I had used AI. But they say that AI “hallucinates,” and as Head Hallucinator of the house, I think I can do a pretty bang-up job all by myself. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Terrifying Travels into Some Kind of New Dimension in the House

 –a FICTIONAL story featuring FICTIONAL versions of the Fixin’ Leaks ‘n Leeks Team, though their real names are used. They are fine. No actual members of the Fixin’ Leaks ‘n Leeks Team were harmed in the making of this story—that we know of.

It’s a terrifyingly sunny day in the Greater Seattle area. Cecilia is feeling jittery because the sun may be a bad omen. It’s usually not this sunny. In fact, most people in the area are often mistaken for vampires. Salons called “Seattle Tan,” for instance, are going out of business because no one knows what a Seattle tan is.

“Hey, Nate,” Cecilia says. “It’s eerily sunny out. Do you think we should panic?”

“Would it stop you from panicking if I said no?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“Right. I’ll just busy myself with some chair yoga.”

Chair yoga, the only sensible thing to do in a panic, is Cecilia’s new obsession, followed by rice cracker snacks, crumbs of which are stuck in the chair yoga chair. As she’s attempting some kind of Savasana with a variation that requires a yoga strap, a whirling vortex forms in the ceiling, making a whoooooooooosh sound, but much scarier than that. Scarier than you could ever imagine.

“Can you hear that, Nate?” she calls. But Nate doesn’t respond. He’s outside working in the garden or gutters or something.

“Alex?! are you home?” But Alex is not home. He’s at a Brazilian café sampling acai, listening to samba, and trying out his Portuguese with friends he met in class.

So no one hears her as she’s sucked into the whirling vortex in the ceiling and disappears.

~

Inside the swirling vortex, Cecilia doesn’t see much of anything—just a lot of musty dankness, so she figures she’s in a crawlspace or something. Suddenly, objects go whizzing past her face: a random sock, a potato masher, some keys, a packet of gum, missing hangers, a shirt she couldn’t find for days. All objects that had gone missing—they’re all here—but also, some really horrid-looking space aliens. She hadn’t counted on horrible space aliens.

“Could my day get any worse?” she asks.

“The day just started,” Nate says.

“Wait? You can hear me?” Cecilia asks.

“Yeah. Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I was doing some super awesome yoga poses, which I think propelled me into a whole new dimension. Is that supposed to happen when you achieve chair yoga greatness?”

“Don’t think so. I think the opposite of chair yoga greatness happened, and you’re facing the consequences.”

“Prolly. Where are you?”

“I’m in the living room, just came in from checking the plants outside. The Buckeyes are going to play soon.”

“So, I’m lost in space, except it’s our house, and I can’t get out, and there are space creature-like things, and they’re just staring at me, but I think things will escalate. Can you help me?”

“Are you upstairs?” Nate asks.

“I guess? But in a vortex. If you go into my office, where I also do chair yoga, you might see it. It’s that swirly thing on the ceiling.”

Nate turns off the TV and goes upstairs. The floor creaks when he opens the door, and a wild terror of wind rips his shirt off.

“Ooh! I got your shirt!” Cecilia says. “And also, your other sock is here—and that potato masher I thought I lost.”

Cecilia drifts through darkness, picking up shiny things while atrocious-looking space creatures ooze and salivate.

Nate’s head and naked chest poke up through the vortex floor. (The space creatures salivate more.) He uses his rippling shiny pecks to pull himself up to standing. Cecilia and Nate embrace.

“Oh, thank goodness you found me!” she says.

“Holy X-Files, Cecilia! What’s all our stuff doing here?”

“Maybe we should ask the space creatures?”

“So we have space squatters in our house?”

“That’s what it looks like,” Cecilia says. “Except I’m not sure they’re in our house. It’s like some kind of other dimension that’s like an appendage to the house—kind of like an appendix, I guess? Can we give the house an appendectomy?”

“Do I look like a space surgeon?” Nate says.

“You look cold. Here, take this Elvira, Mistress of the Dark T-shirt I lost last Halloween.”

Nate struggles into the shirt, begrudgingly. He then helps Cecilia gather some of the objects floating in the vortex: a spare lightbulb, rice snacks, and a can of chicken broth that has not expired yet.

But as Nate grabs his prized, missing Ohio State Buckeyes football sock, the space creatures go wild with anger. They wave their tentacled arms and gnash their spiky teeth. They grab probes and everything—right out of the vortex.

“What do we do?” Cecilia cries.

“Well, we shouldn’t make them any angrier than they already are. I think I should just give them the sock.”

“NOOO!” Cecilia says. “That’s your sock, and you’ve been missing it for a long time. We’re not giving in.”

Just then, the entire dimension shakes. Cecilia and Nate hear a door slam from below.

“Hey! Mom and Dad! I’m home.”

“Alex, for the love of all things warm and safe and toasty, do NOT enter the vortex that’s swirling in my office upstairs,” Cecilia says.

“Wait? There’s a vortex? Cool!” Alex replies.

“No, son! Stay away! There are nasty space creatures up here—with probes!” Nate says.

But Cecilia and Nate hear Alex coming up the stairs, sliding his backpack along the freshly painted walls

“That’s way cooler than anything I ever heard about in physics class,” Alex says when he sees it.

“Seriously—just let us handle this, Alex…ooh! Are you missing some super yummy potato chip snacks?”

“Yeah, Mom. They were expensive,” he says.

“Just found them!” Cecilia says. “But the bad news is: the space creature licked them all. His name is MAJORCOMMANDERJERK, and he just tasted them with his seven tongues, so yeah, he has claimed them.”

“That’s okay. I don’t want them anymore.”

Nate decides he’ll use the shirt he’s wearing to make a rope, so he and Cecilia can climb out. He’s hoping Alex will anchor it on the other side.

“Alex, catch this shirt!”

“Umm, Dad, there’s a better solution,” Alex says. “I read about it in Vortex Dissolutions Equations 101. Vortexes disappear with just a few squirts of everyday cleaning fluids, like Windex.”

“But what about the space creatures? Will they disappear too?” Nate asks.

“Time is running out! MAJORCOMMANDERJERK is closing in on us, and he’s super gross!” Cecilia pleads.

“Distract him with this tasty acai treat,” Alex says, as he runs to the laundry room to get the Windex. The whole house shakes with vortex violence, winds whipping through the kitchen, the sun extra terrifyingly sunny outside.

“Take that, vortex and MAJORCOMMANDERJERK space creature!” Alex says, while squirting the Windex bottle.

The swirling vortex melts into a glitter-like haze, oozing from the ceiling. Cecilia, in Nate’s arms, drops to the floor, nearly landing on the yoga chair that started it all.

The only things remaining from the incident are tentacles, dangling from the ceiling in Cecilia’s office.

“Guess I’ll be doing a house appendectomy after all!” Nate says, as they all laugh.

And the terrifying sunny sun goes behind the clouds, unleashing a comforting storm of driving rain.

The end.

Your Turn: Are there any places in your living space that you dread going into? Discuss!