This is my entry into Finish the Story Contest hosted by @bananafish.

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Blue Inferno for Tres Culos
by @f3nix

"They're coming outta the walls! They're coming outta the goddamn walls!"

Tres Culos awoke startled, at the sound of his own raving nightmare. A muffled sound that multiplied in the bottled and synthetic sounds of a dinghy seen from the inside.

Where the hell was he?

Around him, a blue claustrophobic hell jolted convulsively, smashing him repeatedly against plastic walls encrusted with unspeakable miasmas.

"I was hoping that hell was more spacious and above all less shitty, in the literal sense of the term." He thought as a trail of excremental smell slapped him almost with the same physical strength of the umpteenth jolt.

Tres Culos was still too stunned and disoriented to react to that torture. He tried to faint again, but the smell did not allow it. Even the after-effects of what looked like a colossal hangover couldn't help him.

Now that he was slowly focusing on himself, he tasted something different in his mouth than the usual rancid of the after-booze. Something bitter. Something that moved jerkily.

"Yearrrrrrgghhhhhhhhhhhh!" He spat and screamed together. On the grey floor stood a cockroach still tangled in Tres Culos' saliva. The brown insect seemed to look at him scornfully as if it wanted to say "Wassup, never seen a roach?" If it had a small arm, it would surely have shaken his fist as a challenge to the wide-eyed Tortillas De Pelo bass player.

"Mum, there's a screaming toilet!" On the sidewalk of Allerton Avenue, a child tried to interfere in the conversation between his mother and the neighbour with the only result of receiving a frowning look.

For Tres Culos, the revelation took place progressively, triggered by the irreverent attitude of the cockroach. The bassist's eyes slowly moved from the insect to the wall ahead of him. On the blue-spotted plastic stood an inverted heart that could very well be interpreted as a bum: he knew that sign. A ubiquitous symbol in all rock festivals in which he had participated.

The brand of the renowned Montezuma porta-potties. He was imprisoned inside a fucking chemical bath.

He tried to open the door. He tried to undermine, crack, push his shoulder against the bloody door, but there was nothing to be done. At the umpteenth jolt, another moment of awareness struck him: the door would not open because it was pressed against other toilets, all piled above a van in movement.

He screamed asking for help until almost vomiting. And it was between one gagging and the other that he heard a guitar riff coming weakly through the wall. His beady eyes widened as his already fine lips blanched and stretched out in surprise.

"Machete is that you! What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Hi Tres, did you hear this riff?" Answered the unmistakable voice of the Tortillas guitarist.

"Machete are you telling me that while we die slowly because of the shitty smells, your only idea is to play? And then, for God's sake, why were you in a toilet with the guitar? "

The presence of the guitarist made his hypothesis of an accidental post-concert kidnapping unlikely.

"Très .." The guitarist continued complaining "There's very little we can do. Have you ever heard of the legend of the Masonic porta-potties association?"

"If there was Mendoza, he would take us out with one of his plans." Tres Culos thought desperately.

"This guitar riff is really cool. If only there was Tìo Billy, I would ask him to follow me with the drums." Machete thought.

MY ENDING

The doors of the portal-potties ripped open as soon as they touched ground. Tres and Machete pop their heads up.

"Tres," machete asked, whispering, "you see what did that?"

"I can't see shit."

Suddenly, a light came on above them, revealing a brown brick tunnel covered with some kind of ooze seeping out of the walls. Looking into the depths, they saw three lights spaced far apart. Chains lined the walls as if they were put there to guide the blind into a black hole from which there was no return.

"I don't see a way out other than that way," Machete said as he stroked a diminished cord. The sound caused the walls to grown.

They started walking. The soft ground fizzled with each step they took.

Tres thought about the time they crashed on an island and had to escape some creepy plastic monster.

When they got to the first light, they saw a red and purple valve. On the wall was written:

Turn to get your bass guitar back.

Tio moved to turn the valve but was stopped by Machete's chest.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" Tres asked annoyed.

"We were ... kidnapped," Machete said while repeating the riff he played on the ride over.

"This isn't fair. They let you keep your bleedin' guitar." Tres moaned.

When they came to the next light, they saw on the wall a yin/yang symbol containing the cardinal directions along with straight and broken lines place on top of one another.

"What's that for?" asked Machete.

"I'm not a book nerd. Let's keep moving."

On their way to the third light, Tres noticed the ooze on the walls breathing by growing out of holes and shrinking back into them. He spotted the coach roach scurrying along with the ooze's rhythm by ducking in and out of holes to aviod being crushed.

Maybe it's going to sqeeze us to death Tres thinks to himself. A full day without a drop to drink had brought on some shakes. He began to wish he'd stayed in the portal-pottie when his foot slipped, barely catching himself before falling into the muck. He swore he heard the coach roach hiss.

When they reached the third light, they looked up onto a second story where they saw a reclining chair. Written on the wall below in faded colors was:

Yuppies in the times of back then scouted along in their BMW'S and Sabb's. Their meals were a fake gourmet food topped with peanut butter, jelly, and a sliver of baloney. Seven grain bread was served as a filler.

"That," said Machete, "is going to be a kick ass song."

A spider dropped down from the ceiling in front of Machete's face. His body jolted back as his fear of spiders kicked in.

It then laughed.

"Hey! Blokes."

Stunned, Tres and Machete looked up to the second story and saw Mendo waving.

"I trust the ride was awful and scared the fuck out of ya!" he exclaimed, bent over as he laughed. When he finished, he said, "I'll explain later. For now, we've got a new location to play in. Come up."

Tres and Machete looked over a city and saw a billboard:

Welcome to the Underground Alien City

... to be continued? ...

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Previous	Finish the Story Contest	Entries
The Town That Changed	Even the Clouds Smile	The Border	Horror Vacui
Black Star	Quitting Life	LER	It Awakens
Apocalypse and Pretzels	Metallic Kisses	Curie upvoted The Battle of Bloodneck Valley	Awakening
Curie Upvoted Obstinancy	The Last Will and Testament of Geralda Connors	Curie Upvoted Pirate Hunters	Spoon-fed Memories	Lucid Dream
The Taste of Chicken	Curie upvoted Hunt More Precious Than a Green Stone	Kayla	Curie Upvoted The story of Mr. Renhe Ren

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Ongoing Contests

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