Humor Fiction posted September 9, 2022 |
Contest entry
Liberace Museum
by DragonSkulls
Mind-boggling Contest Winner
My mother really loved Liberace in his day. For her eightieth birthday, I bought plane fare and a private showing to the Liberace Museum to surprise her. It's now actually located in Michael Jackson's Thriller Villa in Las Vegas.
The plane landed and the first night there, we blew a little money, ate some delicious grub and watched a few shows. Mom had a blast, thinking this was her big surprise. The next day we did the same thing but around seven, we jumped in an Uber and headed to Michael's place.
We were ushered inside the massive estate. After walking a while, we made it to the museum of Liberace. Mom's eyes nearly teared up. She gave me a big hug and we went inside.
I'm not going to lie, one of the main reasons I wanted to go there was because I heard that the ghost of Liberace sometimes haunts his museum. How cool would that be, the ghost of Liberace appearing while my mom was there?
It was getting dark outside while we walked about the place. I was thinking to myself, "Come on, man, where are you Lib? Just poke your head out long enough to say hi."
We were by one of his many pianos, then the air turned cold. The lights dimmed and the atmosphere changed to just plain eerie. From behind the piano, a puff of twirling smoke appeared from nowhere. It spun furiously and grew in size. It started coming toward us, literally through the piano. As it drew closer, still spinning, it took shape. It was a thin human figure. We both took a step back. Just before it reached us, it instantly stopped turning, grabbed its groin and, in a high-pitched girly voice, yelled, "Ow!"
It was Michael Jackson. I had my fingers crossed for Liberace but noooo.
He started dancing, like trying to impress us, then went into his signature moonwalk move. He was floating over the floor so I thought of how lame it was without gravity actually working against him. I just shook my head. Apparently he didn't like that because he instantly flew across the room, right up in my face, and started singing, "Beat it...Beat it."
"Hey, pal, I paid good money to see this dump. We're not going anywhere."
"Smooth criminal," he replied.
"You're the criminal, chump, charging so much just to see this freak show. So, we're going to keep walking to see the rest of this ridiculous monstrosity."
"Don't stop 'til you get enough," he sang with evident sarcasm.
I got right back up in his transparent face. "Don't worry, we won't."
He floated backward a little bit, put his arms out and palms up like he was ready to rumble. "Wanna be startin' somethin'?"
I was livid. "I wanted Liberace's ghost, not you!"
"The way you make me feel..."
"Is hopefully like a meaningless scumbag."
He was hurt but I didn't care. He simply just floated behind us while we looked at everything else. He pretty well kept his mouth shut for the rest of the tour.
Just as we were leaving, I turned and said, "Sorry for getting so uptight, Mikey. I was just hoping we might have seen Liberace as well but what can you do? I'm going to call our Uber driver now."
"Black or white?"
"What's the difference, he's not going to be one of your young Neverland sleepovers!"
After we got back home, my friend asked me how the Liberace Museum trip went.
I just looked at him, shook my head and said, "Bad."
My mother really loved Liberace in his day. For her eightieth birthday, I bought plane fare and a private showing to the Liberace Museum to surprise her. It's now actually located in Michael Jackson's Thriller Villa in Las Vegas.
The plane landed and the first night there, we blew a little money, ate some delicious grub and watched a few shows. Mom had a blast, thinking this was her big surprise. The next day we did the same thing but around seven, we jumped in an Uber and headed to Michael's place.
We were ushered inside the massive estate. After walking a while, we made it to the museum of Liberace. Mom's eyes nearly teared up. She gave me a big hug and we went inside.
I'm not going to lie, one of the main reasons I wanted to go there was because I heard that the ghost of Liberace sometimes haunts his museum. How cool would that be, the ghost of Liberace appearing while my mom was there?
It was getting dark outside while we walked about the place. I was thinking to myself, "Come on, man, where are you Lib? Just poke your head out long enough to say hi."
We were by one of his many pianos, then the air turned cold. The lights dimmed and the atmosphere changed to just plain eerie. From behind the piano, a puff of twirling smoke appeared from nowhere. It spun furiously and grew in size. It started coming toward us, literally through the piano. As it drew closer, still spinning, it took shape. It was a thin human figure. We both took a step back. Just before it reached us, it instantly stopped turning, grabbed its groin and, in a high-pitched girly voice, yelled, "Ow!"
It was Michael Jackson. I had my fingers crossed for Liberace but noooo.
He started dancing, like trying to impress us, then went into his signature moonwalk move. He was floating over the floor so I thought of how lame it was without gravity actually working against him. I just shook my head. Apparently he didn't like that because he instantly flew across the room, right up in my face, and started singing, "Beat it...Beat it."
"Hey, pal, I paid good money to see this dump. We're not going anywhere."
"Smooth criminal," he replied.
"You're the criminal, chump, charging so much just to see this freak show. So, we're going to keep walking to see the rest of this ridiculous monstrosity."
"Don't stop 'til you get enough," he sang with evident sarcasm.
I got right back up in his transparent face. "Don't worry, we won't."
He floated backward a little bit, put his arms out and palms up like he was ready to rumble. "Wanna be startin' somethin'?"
I was livid. "I wanted Liberace's ghost, not you!"
"The way you make me feel..."
"Is hopefully like a meaningless scumbag."
He was hurt but I didn't care. He simply just floated behind us while we looked at everything else. He pretty well kept his mouth shut for the rest of the tour.
Just as we were leaving, I turned and said, "Sorry for getting so uptight, Mikey. I was just hoping we might have seen Liberace as well but what can you do? I'm going to call our Uber driver now."
"Black or white?"
"What's the difference, he's not going to be one of your young Neverland sleepovers!"
After we got back home, my friend asked me how the Liberace Museum trip went.
I just looked at him, shook my head and said, "Bad."
Writing Prompt Your entry must include a story about You and paranormal activities. Word count 550-600. NO Biblical stories. Black font only/Keep it G--rated--suitable for children. |
Mind-boggling Contest Winner |
Recognized |
The italicized phases are all titles of Michael Jackson songs.
Thank you for reading if you made it all the way through this ridiculous piece.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Thank you for reading if you made it all the way through this ridiculous piece.
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. DragonSkulls All rights reserved.
DragonSkulls has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.