Earworm - short stories inspired by songs

I want a...

Shelley slipped out of her car, eyes searching for the factory of love she'd been advertised. She found herself, instead, in an empty, sketchy parking lot. Leaning against a warehouse was an old woman with a headscarf. She was smoking a cigarette, her hunched form relaxed. Puffs of smoke floated from her thin lips.

As Shelley approached, she pushed off the wall, gave a little signal to Shelley, and tugged open the giant metal doors with a cringe-inducing screech. Shelley had been about to ask for directions, but apparently, she was in the right place.

The woman began to walk inside. When Shelley didn't follow, she turned around, raising her eyebrows. In a thick Russian accent she asked, "You want boyfriend or no?"

Shelley cringed. "I-" She'd been single for far too long. And she hated it. She kept hitting dead ends. A machine that could create a custom boyfriend? It sounded too good to be true. Maybe it was a shortcut, but if it worked... "Yes."

The woman nodded, crushing her cigarette under her foot. "Good. Come."

Shelley was led through piles of junk. She nearly tripped over a screw, twice. "What is this place?" She asked.

The old woman waved her arms around. "Oh, this all my husband's. His workshop. He was nuclear scientist from Russia. Genius."

Shelley pursed her lips. This sounded like a scam. A nuclear scientist from Russia? Design a boyfriend? An empty warehouse and an old Russian woman? Yeah, no.

She broke her reverie to find the old woman staring at her, eyes squinted. "You no believe? Why you no believe?"

Shelley hedged, "It's not that. It's just- I don't know if I'll ever find love."

"Hmph," the old woman harrumphed. "You find. I help you find."

"I suppose that's what I'm paying for, right?" Shelley asked nervously. The woman shrugged.

"Ya. But advice come for free."

Shelley couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the stubborn woman before her. "Are you experienced in love?"

The woman puffed out her chest, pointing a finger at herself. "I had husband. I best."

"I suppose you're right. A happy marriage is more experience than I have. Tell me, are there any good ones left? I keep finding the bad ones. I just want love, you know?"

The woman nodded intently. "I say there no good one. I help you make, okay?"

Shelley gave her a sad smile. "I suppose you're right."

"I tell you something," the old woman gestured wildly. "There is difference between want and need. You no need boyfriend. You strong woman. You want boyfriend. If you need, you never be happy, never be enough. If you want, we can do." It was a little hard for Shelley to understand at first, but her message was simple: if you couldn't be happy on your own, you'd never be happy in a relationship. For once, she agreed with the old woman.

"Your husband must be very happy," Shelley commented.

The woman, blunt as ever, shrugged. "Yes. He happy. But he dead now. Heart attack. Now I run business."

"Oh, well. Nice to know I'm supporting a family business," Shelley said nervously. The old woman nodded, leading Shelley to a large control panel. It was old and decrepit, the metal rusty and scratched. There were hundreds of glowing buttons and levers. The scene made Shelley's stomach drop.

"Okay, time now. You tell me what boyfriend you want."

"Um. Well, I want him to be kind. And handsome. And smart, too."

The woman flipped a few switches and the board began to glow. "Okay. Give me more. What he look like?"

"Uh- Brown hair. And dark eyes. Tall."

The woman raised her voice as lights began to flash. "More! More!"

"He's clever and witty and he hates whipped cream. He loves amusement parks and pie. He always brings me gifts."

The machine's hums and buzzes grew deafening. The woman yelled through the noise. "Yes! Yes! More!"

Shelley kept spitting out words that came to her mind. "Athletic. Intelligent. Strong. Empathetic!"

An alarm started beeping and the woman kept pushing buttons. The machine let out a deafening groan and then... everything fell silent. The lights stopped flickering. The control panel became still as death.

The old woman clapped her hands together. "All done."

She hobbled over to a metal closet with wires coming from it. The old woman braced herself, tugging wildly at the handle until it released with a clang and the door flew open.

Shelley gagged. Inside the closet was a mutilated body, very much resembling the pop culture Frankenstein. The old woman made a face.

"What's wrong?" Shelley asked, fear entering her heart.

The old woman raised her hands, then let them fall to her sides. "Husband better at this. I no very good. He still usable." She slapped the body. It looked to be half-robot, half-human. Something whirred and the creatures eyes opened. He clumsily bowed to Shelley who recoiled, disgusted.

The old woman pursed her lips. "You no have to keep. I give you discount, eh?" Refund?"

The creature's face began to melt as she said that. A puddle of black sludge began to spread under her disaster of a boyfriend. Shelley took several steps back.

"Actually, on second thought, please keep him. I will pay you to keep him away from me."

The old woman slammed the closet door shut. "Yes, yes. I can do. This my first time. Always husband do."

Shelley shook her head. "I doubt this machine ever worked."

The woman insisted, "No, no. It work."

"Do you have any proof?" Shelley asked, incredulous.

"I proof," the old woman insisted.

"What?"

"He made me."

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933 words

Inspired by: Selena Gomez - Boyfriend