Best Served Cold

This story is very loosely based on that fave with the long name of random letters and numbers. You know the one I mean, the winner of that poll between 5-1 and 5-10 of 2025.

2009

At Carlie’s birthday party, as she’d wished for with all of her 8 year old heart, her parents hired a magician. Roxanne the Resplendant was magnificent, producing and vanishing things like rings and flowers, making it all seem like the impossible really was possible. At the end, she got down low to the crowd of kids. “For this last trick, it’s something dangerous, something that’ll need a steady hand and nerves of steel of a volunteer.”

As the kids all raised their hands excitedly, Roxanne calmed them and suggested that Carlie be the one to do it since it was her birthday. As she took her hand to lead her onto the stage, she produced what looked like an ornamental mask with a string at the bottom. Roxanne turned to the audience and, in an ominous tone, introduced it. “Behold, The Mask. This mask is made of specially treated paper. Now I would never ask a child to wear this because it’s so dangerous, so…”

She slid the mask over her own face as Carlie recognized the string at the bottom wasn’t a string. It was a fuse.

Roxanne handed Carlie a lighter. She felt a little nervous at this, knowing what she was going to ask. “Now, Carlie, get ready. Take a deep breath.”

Carlie did so, prepared for whatever was coming. “Now light the fuse….”

Carlie clicked the lighter, bringing the flame to the bottom of the fuse just as Roxanne finished what she was saying, or tried to. “...when I say…”

The fuse burned fast and, in a moment, the mask burst into flame over Roxanne’s face. She screamed in agony, Carlie dropping the lighter in terror.

Her parents called an ambulance as soon as they could, but Roxanne could not be seen. They said they’d cover it, but, a few days later, Carlie got an anonymous note. “I won’t forget.”

2024

For some reason she couldn’t really remember, Carlie liked magic shows so long as they didn’t involve something burning. Sure, she knew a lot of what was called magic was, actually, illusion, but she still watched, trying to find when it really was magic.

This show, the one Jess invited her to, didn’t seem to have any flames. There were no pyrotechnics, nothing really that involved flame.

The magician was only called The Masked Lady because her deal was that she always wore a porcelain mask over her face. She spoke in what Carlie thought was an Eastern European accent, but she couldn’t nail down where it was from.

Many of the tricks involved penetration of some kind or producing some scantily clad assistants, both male and female, that Jess always seemed to grab her arm at. Still, Carlie just sat quietly. Soon, though, the lady had her stagehands bring out a long table and something that made Carlie’s heart jump, a large buzzsaw. The lady brought up the houselights. “My friends, it has often been suggested that stage magic might not be real. Indeed, there are plenty of shows and videos online that show how some of these tricks are done. But what if I told you I could prove it’s all for real?”

She descended into the audience, looking around from place to place. “I need a volunteer, someone with nerves of steel.”

Carlie nearly jerked at that. The words sounded familiar, eerily so. Frighteningly so. The lady reached Carlie’s row, holding out a hand to her. “Would you be willing to come up and be our guinea pig?”

Carlie gulped once, unsure, until Jess pressured her. “C’mon. You know you like this.”

Carlie sighed as she stood and followed the lady back to the stage. Instead of the usual banter, the lady simply introduced that this was not prearranged and that Carlie had no idea what would happen. Carlie knew though. She knew what the buzzsaw meant.

Sure enough, the lady asked Carlie to lay down on the table. Carlie’s breath shuddered as she did so. Still, she knew she’d be okay. If it was what she thought, she’d be just fine, no harm done.

The lady continued. “You’ve all seen the trick where a magician saws a young lady in half, usually with a box or a covering of some kind. In many of the non-magic illusions, the lady is actually safely hidden within some slots in the table. But, with this lovely lady here, you’ve seen that she has no coverings, no moves. Her body is exactly as it was when you saw her lay down on the table.”

With that, she powered on the saw. Carlie was about to object. Sure, she loved the idea of the trick, but she never thought she’d be in it. The lady pulled the saw down and Carlie felt it tear into her body. Her waist was quickly severed as it plunged completely through her.

Carlie gasped as she felt it. There was no pain, and no blood or guts spurting out. Yet she knew this saw was through her body. She started to laugh, feeling something with it as she experimentally kicked her feet.

Two assistants came out. They didn’t bother turning the table, they just pulled Carlie’s halves away from the saw. The lady asked Carlie to raise a knee, which she did. It was so strange, but so nice, to feel her legs responding even though they weren’t attached. “How does it feel Carlie?”

That made her pause. When did she tell the lady her name? “Well, it’s a bit strange, but it’s not too bad.”

The assistants wheeled her halves together again. “Remember this. You must keep concentrating on being whole.”

Carlie did so as she turned and got off the table, apparently back in one piece. “Just consider this a little payback from 15 years ago.”

She’d been sawn in half and restored, but, later that night, as she slept, it started happening.

The next day, as Carlie woke up, she was in halves again. What happened? She heard the chime on her phone, picked it up, with an email from someone named Roxanne.

“This is for what you did to me 15 years ago. Remember, it’s best served cold. Keep concentrating. You get distracted, get too emotional, you’ll stay in pieces.”

2025

Carlie basically had no life ever since that night. Sure, she could drive, she could shop and she could have dates, but not very long. She had to stay focused.

She managed to get a remote job, one that allowed her to be able to stay at home so that, when she got distracted, she could be in two without anyone staring or screaming. Her love life was over, though. She couldn’t drink because, if she did, her concentration would lapse and she’d fall apart. She also never could be intimate. That was out of the question at least until she found someone who had an open enough mind to be able to date someone in her condition.

Her parents reminded her of the disaster of her 8th birthday and, with a little research, she learned that The Masked Lady was, indeed, Roxanne the Resplendent. She wore the mask because the plastic surgery to rebuild her face didn’t work. She knew why this happened.

Deliveries were easy. Finding doctors that would understand her condition was hard.

Still, she kept hoping, praying that, one day, she’d find Roxanne, sincerely apologize to her, and she’d be back together for good.