In Which Michael Myers' Remains are Distributed Across the U.S. in Neatly Wrapped Parcels of Ground Meat
by Sarp Sozdinler
And for a good cause. For everyone wants a taste of the legend. Of what it is like being a larger-than-life television persona. It’s thanks to the good folk of Haddonfield, Illinois that this initiative takes place, that what has remained of Michael Myers after being pushed to a big garbage grinder by Jamie Lee Curtis at the end of the last film is collected piece by piece with a pickstick to be hauled away in municipality trucks to a nearby recycling facility. You see, everything needs to be salvaged these days. The planet needs to be saved. The franchises, revamped. No taxpayer’s buck to waste for naught. A fair-haired boy from Akron, Ohio, chomps down a piece of fried currywurst that used to be Michael Myers’ ring finger. Another kid nibbles at his curly fries in an Arby’s store just south of Kansas City, the stewed clumps of ground meat on the side bearing the impressions of a bloodthirsty eye. A small piece of Myers’ fibula gets stuck between the teeth of the boy’s father, which he plonks out with a toothpick. Myers is being Myers the whole time, a pain in the ass both in life and death, again and again. He haunts, he hunts. He knows what it feels like to be on the wrong end of the stick, figuratively or otherwise. And now, it seems, to be on the wrong end of America, too. Day by day, everyone pukes out the pieces of Michael Myers they inadvertently swallowed. Organ after chewed organ, limb after pasty limb. The cartilage, the nails. The thrown-up pieces of Michael Myers slime down on the ground and find each other in the same scrapyard up in Central Illinois where they were disassembled in the first place. They fuse back together. They howl in joy. An indistinct male voice sizzles out of what could reasonably be called the mouth of this newly forming body, which doesn’t sound any more or less comprehensible than a baby’s cooing. The diehard fans of the series know that it can only mean one thing: Trick or treatin’! Coming for you, Jamie Lee! Coming for you, America, the kids, the nannies, the parents, the fans, the viewers, this holiday season in 4K, in all theaters near you. The trailer ends. Inaudible gasps.
Author Bio: A Turkish writer, Sarp Sozdinler has been published in Electric Literature, Kenyon Review, Masters Review, Trampset, Vestal Review, DIAGRAM, Normal School, Lost Balloon, and Maudlin House, among other journals. His stories have been selected and nominated for anthologies, including the Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Wigleaf Top 50. He's currently at work on his first novel in Philadelphia and Amsterdam.
Artwork: “The Sherman Oaks Lonesome Dog, my side of Eden” by Adeline Jackson
Artist Bio: A third-generation Angeleno, Adeline feels a deep ambivalence toward her city. While she hates its superficiality, she finds herself bound to it by a love that fuels her art. Through her work, she navigates the smoke-and-mirrors reality of a chaotic urban landscape, capturing both its grit and grind. Each piece reflects the city’s contradictions, portraying the bustling streets alongside the forgotten corners that bear the weight of history. As a newly emerging artist at 22, she seeks to highlight unheard stories and explore the tension between aspiration and reality, longing for the opportunity to immerse herself in the art community.
Artist Website: adelinejacksonart.com