Motel Art - From The Pages of Kung Fu Breakfast The Art of Annie Motel

Welcome to Day 3 of Annie Motel Appreciation Week.  Today we travel back to 2014 when Kung Fu Breakfast was a monthly art magazine.  It was just before Issue #22 when I invited Annie Motel to be a contributor to our magazine.  The magazine would only run for five issues since Annie joined but she contributed extensive work to each one.  Today you'll also get to see art Annie contributed to two additional previously unreleased issues: It's a Drug Issue and Aloha Alone.  Annie is still making plenty of art, written a few novels, and is available for tattoo work at Old Tradition Tattoo in Hollywood.  I'm going to keep my portion of this brief and let the work speak for itself.

Click the photo below to jump inside the pages of KFB Magazine and see what Annie Motel has to offer and scroll past the photo to read a special story by Annie in her KFB appearance, Issue #22: Reality Overrated, entitled "Blood Suckers Anonymous"

Motel Art - From The Pages of Kung Fu Breakfast The Art of Annie Motel

Motel Art - From The Pages of Kung Fu Breakfast The Art of Annie Motel

Blood Suckers Anonymous

By Annie Motel

It was a muggy Friday evening in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles. My skin was damp and clung to my short black dress as I walked up the steps to the church where the meeting was to take place. The space inside was crowded with people dressed in black with tan skin and tattoos. I scanned the room for an empty seat and found one near the door.

The meeting of the Los Angeles Chapter of Blood Suckers Anonymous, or BSA, was where I had made all my best friends over the last two years. It was where I met my fiancé, Trent, where I met the people who gave me invaluable career connections, but most importantly, BSA was where I found the strength to finally stop drinking the blood of innocent woodland animals, and sometimes I’m not proud to admit, neighborhood cats and dogs.

Right after the meeting started I saw my friend Lana Moon come in and sit quietly in the second row near the speaker. She was dressed a little differently than what I was use to seeing her in. She was wearing a short red dress and sparkling gold peep toe heels. Her long black hair, like usual, hung straight and shiny like a horses main down her bony back. Lana usually always wore black so it was a surprise to see her in red. But I guess red can be Goth sometimes too, so maybe it wasn’t that much of a stretch.

When the members of BSA introduced themselves is when I really became confused. When it was Lana’s turn to say her name, she identified as “Scarlett.” Scarlett? That’s not her name. It’s not even her middle name. I saw a few of her friends look over at her the same time I did when she spoke, and whisper to each other. The only way blood suckers are able to stay blood free is if they are completely honest, and lying about your name could be the first step in a path to relapse.

She left the meeting early before saying the serenity prayer, and I didn’t have a chance to find her afterwards. Clive, my fiancé Trent, and I went out for coffee at The Dark Spot Diner. “Hey, did you see Lana tonight? I asked. Trent said, “Yeah why did she say her name was Scarlett?” “I don’t know, maybe she’s rehearsing for a movie… or something.” “When was the last time you saw her?” Clive asked. “Last week we went on a hike at Runyon Canyon. She seemed fine. I’ll call her tomorrow.” “Don’t worry about her, babe. You worry too much about her as it is.” Trent put his arm around me and I looked into his eyes. I prayed that we would never relapse.

Dear Diary,

Scarlett here. I went to a meeting tonight in a church I thought to be a bible study group but realized I was in a meeting of people who believe themselves to be vampires. Although I don’t believe in vampires because that’s completely ridiculous I couldn’t bring myself to leave until the end for fear of disrupting the speaker. Anyways Monday is my first day of work at Blitz’s Bowtie. Because it’s a chain restaurant and I worked for years at the one in the Bay area I’m sure I’ll know my way around well enough. So far I like Los Angeles. Anyhow, time to hit the hay. Sweet dreams Diary, Scarlett

But Saturday morning, Lana didn’t answer her phone. I figured she was just isolating, it’s pretty common for recovering blood suckers to do that, so I decided to give her space that weekend and visit her when she got off work at the Soda Fountain on Monday evening.

Blitz’ Bowtie was a typical 50’s relic complete with silver counters and sparkly faded pink booths. Lana’s shift ended at six and I arrived at 5:45 to wait for her. When I got there, her coworker Billy told me she had left early because the restaurant was so slow. “She kept saying her name was Scarlett whenever I called her Lana, but she’s always been a little funny so I just went with it. Nothing out the ordinary with her though. Except she kept asking me to repeat my name, and the names of the guys in the kitchen, as if it were the first time she’d met us.”

I was worried about Lana. Maybe she was suffering a psychotic break. I went to The Grimshire Apartments where she lived off Sunset, and ended up running into her in the hallway on her way out. She was wearing red again. “Hey Lana! How’s it goin?” I said. Lana looked at me with a polite smile. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Scarlett. I’m fine, how are you?” “I gave her a funny smile.” “Are you changing your name?” I said. “No… I don’t believe we’ve met.  I just moved here from The Bay Area.”  “Lana, are you rehearsing for a role?” I asked. “No, I’m Scarlett. Not Lana.” “You live in this building.” “Yes. I just moved in last week.” “No, you have lived here for three years. In apartment 9.” “No, I live in apartment 7.” Lana’s apartment was right in front of me. “No, Lana, you live right here! I screamed, and rattled the door. To my surprise it was unlocked, and swung open. To my horror, the girl I knew as Lana lay dressed in a bloody lilac slip on the ground, hair spread out. She looked like a beautiful dead mermaid.

I looked behind me at the girl I had thought was my Lana and saw the look of horror on her face, too. Despite the decay, the resemblance was uncanny.

“Who are you? And what happened to that girl?” Scarlett asked me. Suddenly I looked across the open apartment at the reflection in the mirror. I had no reflection. And I knew that when Vampires are active in their disease, they become invisible in mirrors. I then knew I had killed Lana in a blackout, possibly after our hike at Runyon last week. Those mountains were always a trigger for me. The girl was crying silent tears now, and I realized Vampires couldn’t cry, so even though I had seen her in a BSA meeting, she was clearly a mortal. I had a strong, physical craving for the taste of blood. I guess since I had already relapsed, one more drink couldn’t hurt. After getting my fill, leaving the Grimshire Apartments I held my black cape tightly around my neck. There was a chill in the midsummer air.

 

THE END