Miss Christine

An obsessive American 'prince' of darkness becomes truly stranger when his haunted-auto transforms him into an actual villain, in this adaptation of the Stephen King dodecahedron.

A 'bright' fanfiction of John Carpenter's adapted mod-horror gem film Christine (Stephen King). Thanks for reading, 

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Let me tell you my incomplete-tale, a dark faerie-tale, of Miss Christine, a white-auto I purchased, vintage year, and haunted. My name's Amlan Satan, and I'd become a car-fan and thought this vintage-auto purchase cast me as a special mechanics-view for machinery on Earth, and when it took-over my consciousness, no one would come between me and Miss Christine, for Selfie-commentary culture readings in the hellmouth(s) of citizenry/transit superstitions (for the Ego).

It was the girl I seduced in my Jersey-hometown (American Homeland) with 'Miss Christine' that comprises the real 'beef' of this superstitions faerie-tale about fortune and luxury. You see, my new-girl (Susan) became my lover after thinking Miss Christine was a roadway(s) dream, which she was, and the car selected radio-songs, on its/her own, which hypnotized Susan, and I knew then that I was destined to do more with this automobile than any other 'toy' I owned. I lived with my mother (Nina), who warned me about Miss Christine, insisting she was some 'bad black omen' for treasure-obsession, but after I robbed a bank in Miss Christine, I knew I was destined for some (American) legend-consciousness (which I was!). Susan became my Aphrodite, and Miss Christine became my (Facebook-like) deity for hellmouth(s)...wow.

SUSAN: You think I love Miss Christine because of you, don't you?
ME: Nah...it's between you and my car, Susan-darling.

SUSAN: You used to be a reserved college-student; something's differing.

ME: Who cares...for bureaucracy's art?

SUSAN: Maybe I'm just some sports calendar-girl for you or Miss Christine?

ME: Nope...she's the heavens-chef for your passenger-image of beef/wine!

SUSAN: Wow...I thought you'd become Miss Christine's servant.

ME: After I bloody-murder someone with Miss Christine I'll agree with that!

SUSAN: Stranger comment...I'm not just a calendar-girl.

ME: Facebook-like (ok).

DETECTIVE: Ten people are reported missing or dead, Susan-girl.

SUSAN: It's got nothing to do with Amlan Satan or his car, detective!

DETECTIVE: Perchance you're protecting him, for some lab-brain interest?

SUSAN: That's a lie...Miss Christine is purely-divine, detective.

DETECTIVE: I get the sense that car's owning both you and Satan (Amlan).

SUSAN: I'm in love with him, for a solution of Earth.

DETECTIVE: Perchance you're in 'love' with Christine (not him).

SUSAN: No dodecahedron here, detective (promises).

DETECTIVE: Fine.

The town journals/papers/cyber-chats reported the deaths/disappearances, but Susan didn't betray me, and she didn't betray Miss Christine. Do I believe the car owns me or Susan's soul (too)? I remain unsure and uncaring...for Christine's changed the way I 'naturally'' think of the bread/fruit of leviathan. Maybe I've become a roadway(s) crusader and Miss Christine my demon-wheels hero-vehicle for real patriot-doughnuts.

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)