8: Escape

Frank N. Furter was pissed. How could someone as formidable/awesome/*insert adjective here* as himself get assaulted and then imprisoned in a psychiatric ward by some silly humans? Anyway, it was all Farrah’s fault. She was the one who led those assholes to Dreg’s Den and avoided them so that he would be approached during their search and attacked for telling the truth! Also, it kinda was her fault that Elvis had left Earth for Strawberry’s planet, Kos III. Her planet was almost like 1950s Earth, with one difference being that gender roles were flipped…. the men were the ones who stayed home to take care of the children and suchlike because, despite looking and feeling human, the women got the men pregnant. Even though Farrah didn’t intentionally get him locked away, it was still her fault, and the fact that she knows Strawberry also makes her bad by association. Frank N. Furter wanted to get back at both of them, but his number one priority was his own escape. There were people everywhere, so how was he going to achieve that? He scanned the room, looking for any possible escape routes. The window? That was too dangerous. The air vents…no, too difficult, he’d easily get caught trying to climb into them. Using the elevators would be asking for trouble, because it was guarded, if it wasn’t he could still get caught if anyone wanted to use it while he was still going down, and then there was all the staff on the ground floor. There was, however, the fire stairs. They were never locked, and nobody paid much attention to them anyway. He slowly walked over as nonchalantly as possible, looked around to confirm that no staff were watching, then, as quickly and quietly as possible, opened the door and slipped out of the ward. Now, the only problem was where he had to go in order to actually leave the hospital. Frank noticed that the psych ward was on the fifth – the top – floor, so it was going to take him some time. However, as he creeped towards the stairs to go down a floor, he realised that there was a map to the exit. Okay, so that was another problem solved. He ran down every flight of stairs necessary, and finally got to open the door to freedom! Ha! Nobody can imprison me! He tore off the fugly hospital gown to reveal his usual sexy corset and fishnet set, and ran through the trees behind the hospital as fast as he could until he was sure he was not being followed. Despite his unusual appearance, he was not the most bizarre person one could find in Los Angeles; instead he was just another transvestite. This was why he lived there, because it was one of the most similar places on Earth to the planet Transylvania. Unfortunately, Rocky was made too dumb to drive a car, so Dr Furter had to run all the way back to his house, but at least he was faster than the majority of humans.


Back at the psych ward, everyone was aware of his disappearance. “What do you mean, he escaped?” a doctor yelled.

The blonde nurse answered: “I mean I came into his room and he was gone! Then I looked everywhere and couldn’t find him!”

“It’s not like he can just climb out the window! It’s not as if he could just take the elevator down to the ground floor and check out!”

“What about the fire stairs? They have to be left unlocked.”

The head of the hospital agreed. “Well we can’t keep them locked, it’s dangerous. I’ll get my ass sued if anything happens. As for Frank N. Furter, if he’s gone back to Roswell we can’t take him again, the government forbids any contact with the aliens there.”

The nurse looked at him. “Why? What if they’re planning to attack us?”

“It’s just policy, they found that if we leave the aliens alone, let them hang out in some remote area of Roswell, they’ll leave us alone. But we’ll definitely search the hospital and the most likely places around town for him to be hiding in.”


Eventually, while the people searching for him were looking in the gay clubs of Los Angeles, Frank N. Furter made it back to his house, a formerly abandoned mansion in the forest with rumours of being haunted. “Rocky!” he called out while banging on the door, exhausted, even feeling too tired for sex.

The handsome, brainless man opened the door. “Master!” he answered, and kissed his lover passionately. Okay, maybe Frank wasn’t too tired for a little sex, not if he let Rocky take the lead.

“Oh I DID miss this! Oh….how forceful you are! Come, let’s go inside.”

And so there was sex, and wine, and some pissed off people left behind.