Chapter 2
The door opens and they walk through. The house is beautiful. It is old. The floors are dark hard wood and the walls are tall and white. The room was lit brightly from the sun even though it had been raining all day. When they got into the living room they noticed that the only thing in the room was a bed. It is one of those twin bed’s with a wrought iron frame. It has a pillow in a white pillow case and a single white sheet tucked in firmly at all corners. Peculiar for the reason that it was the only thing in the room.
The white sheer cloth curtains dance as the gentle breeze cameos through the open French doors. This soothed them. Made them want to jump in bed and fuck off. The next room they entered was the kitchen. It was bare. Except for the fixtures of course. An old timey kitchen w/high ceiling. This room was much colder than the main room. Old cabinets, and a sink with all the porcelain cracking off of it in big chunks with rust and mold eating through it. This room. Like the one before, had a small twin bed in the middle of the room. It looked like the same one. Out of curiosity, he ran into every room in the house to see if all of them had this bed in the middle of the room. His curiosity turned into fright when he found that they all did. Even the bathroom!
He started to hyperventilate. His chest tightened. He ran into the kitchen and looked out the open window. Out the window was a steep muddy slope that was about twenty five feet down from where he stood. Stacked neatly, in nice tight lines down the slope, were row after row of matching tables and chairs. Matching!
He could not breath. He got on his cell phone and called headquarters. “There is no furniture! Only beds! Hello? Hello!” He couldn’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. The silence screamed at him, pounding his brain. “Just beds! I can’t hear you!”
The silence beat him onto the floor at great volumes. That is where he fell, between the kitchen and the main room. That is where his eyes closed and his ears bled.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Gritty - Chapter 2
2
At the same moment that Jay shuts the door to the hooker hotel room, about 15 miles away on a dark highway, 5 super hot bitches a zooming down the road. It’s quiet in the car. And everyone seems to be pissed.
“Tallulah?” says Maureen.
Maureen is a funny girl. She has those giant blue eyes with hair as dark as the night. Her skin is as pale as pancake batter and she always seems to be a little more serious than she needs to be. Right now she is serious because she has been driving for a very long time and no one will speak to her.
“Tallulah?” Maureen says this a little louder this time and there is still no answer. Maureen cannot tell if Tallulah is asleep like Roz and Mandy or not because she is wearing her black sunglasses and its pitch black outside. Tallulah has this long slender body but she has all the good fat pockets where she is supposed to. Besides that, she does things when she’s drinking that makes porn stars blush.
She is wedged in between Roz and Mandy in the back seat. Mandy is a pretty plain chick. Sandy brown hair. No real style to it. But Roz on the other hand, has the biggest, most godnormus tits in the world. They are so freaking big that people always think that she is some obese fat chick. It is just that she can very rarely find cloths to fit her. Girls are so cruel too. If she where’s anything that is sexy or revealing I the least bit, every bitch in the room glares, gives dirty looks and talks shit. The last time it happened, some guy was drooling all over himself at the site of these giant tits. That was until the guys girlfriend came up and accused Roz of being a fucking home wrecker, and beat the shit out her. It just took a little pull for those monster to rip through the top that she had on. Next thing Roz knew, she was on the ground crying, looking on while everyone laughed at her and pointing at the biggest tits on the most insecure girl in the world.
I wish I could say more about Mandy. She’s just fucking boring. The only reason why the girls brought her along in because she had enough money for gas for their trip. The only reason why I allowed that to happen is because without her, in about three hours, this story could get really dull.
“Tallulah? You cannot still be mad at me.”
Tallulah raises her head up and says, “Oh muthafucka yes I can bitch.”
“How was I supposed to know it was gonna blow?” Maureen asks.
“It is Spring fucking Break. Who stays at school during Spring fucking Break?” Then under her breath she whispers, “Jackass.”
“Look, Chico State is supposed to be thee party school. How was I supposed to know that this was their Spring Break week?” Maureen pauses and clears her throat. “Are Mandy and Roz still sleeping?”
Tallulah looks back and forth at them. They are sound asleep sawing logs like the greatest lumberjacks of any day. “Yep. Should I wake them?”
“No. Let them sleep. I don’t need everyone talking shit again.”
For some reason, most likely because Tallulah is a bitch, she slaps Roz across the face as hard as she could given the small place in which she is seated.
“What the fuck?” Roz yells.
“Oh, you had a little something on your face right here.” Tallulah trails off. “I thought is was a bug or something.”
“Whatever cunt.” Roz seems to be a little bit upset with the way she has been awoken.
Tallulah throws her head back and laughs and laughs. She then swings her head around to face Mandy with her hair all over her face. Then, at the top of her lungs. Tallulah yells in Mandy’s ear, “That’s some pretty fucking funny shit, huh?”
This causes Mandy to jump. But like I said before, Mandy is totally fucking boring and doesn’t serve much of a purpose other than to get our girls from here to there a little later.
“Where the fuck are we?” Mandy says.
Tallulah responds like a prophet of their generation with, “Six hours from Hell Fuck and the rest of our lives away from Shit Fuck.” Tallulah follows this pearl of wisdom with laughing and snorting.
“God, are you still drunk.” Asks Roz.
“We’ve been in the car for like seven hours.” Mandy adds.
Tallulah pulls a fifth of Jim Beam out form in between her legs, “Yep. I am still drunk.” She then leans into Mandy and lays her head upon Mandy’s shoulder. “You wanna take me home? I’m a real cheap date. I’m already all liquored up for ya.” Tallulah leans in for a kiss.
Mandy pushes her away, “Fucking Dyke!”
“Hey! Fuck that shit!” Maureen is a lesbian. She doesn’t like it when people, especially her friends, language like that.
“No. That’s okay.” Tallulah says, “I can dig it.”
“Well I can’t.” Maureen says.
“That’s cool. No worries.” After Tallulah says this, she rolls her eyes hard underneath the dark black sunglasses.
It’s been quiet for a couple minutes now so Roz tries to break the silence. She looks at Tallulah and says,“I didn’t know that you were into girls? Have you always been?”
“Oh I’m not. I just bi or tri or whatever, I don’t care. And besides, stuck in this car for seven damn hours even makes you look fuckable.” They all begin laugh. “Come here Sugar Tits!” Tallulah grabs Roz’s tits and starts squeezing them repeatedly. “Honk! Honk!” Tallulah yells.
“Get away!”
“Tickle, tickle, tickle.”
While Roz tries (but not hard enough) to get Tallulah off her insanely large knockers, Mandy asks Maureen a question.
“So when did you know that you were a lesbian?”
“We are not going to talk about that.” Maureen says in a stone face manner that left a lot of tension behind it.
“OK. Well, what about you Lena?”
Lena! Alright. Now we get to talk about Lena. Lena is a hot little blonde with droopy little “fuck me” eyes. She is the youngest one in the car by like five years. In fact, she is only 16 but no one I the car knows it. not even her girlfriend, Maureen who is about six years her senior.
Instead of Lena answering, Maureen does for her. “She’s not aloud to talk right now.”
“Why?” Mandy asks.
“Because I said so.” Maureen says and then looks over at her lover and for a second gets lost in her eyes. But, knowing she could kill everyone in the car by doing that, she stops and looks back toward the road.
Just then, Tallulah screams as if a giant 18 wheeler was barreling into them. “FUCK THIS SHIT!!! Pull the car over! Pull the fucking car over now!”
In a panic, Maureen says, “What the fuck? Why?”
“You dumb bitches promised me a good fucking time. You said we’d be partying and we haven’t done shit! Pull off the road.”
“Here. In the middle of nowhere?”
“Maureen, it’s the of somewhere! We are going to find a fucking club and have a good fucking time. What do you say girls?”
Roz is a little apprehensive. “I don’t know?”
Tallulah continues, “It’s a fucking adventure! We don’t know where we are. We don’t know anybody. We could go into a bar and say we are foreign exchange students from fucking France or super models from LA. Like these fucking bohicks would know any better? C’mon. We haven’t done shit in four days!”
“Alright, I’m down.” says Maureen.
“Okay.” Roz says.
“Fuck.” Mandy adds.
Lena just smiles. Then Roz says. “What about Lena?”
Maureen answers for her. “I said, I’m down.”
The girls scream as the car blares down the highway and exits at the next off ramp.
At the same moment that Jay shuts the door to the hooker hotel room, about 15 miles away on a dark highway, 5 super hot bitches a zooming down the road. It’s quiet in the car. And everyone seems to be pissed.
“Tallulah?” says Maureen.
Maureen is a funny girl. She has those giant blue eyes with hair as dark as the night. Her skin is as pale as pancake batter and she always seems to be a little more serious than she needs to be. Right now she is serious because she has been driving for a very long time and no one will speak to her.
“Tallulah?” Maureen says this a little louder this time and there is still no answer. Maureen cannot tell if Tallulah is asleep like Roz and Mandy or not because she is wearing her black sunglasses and its pitch black outside. Tallulah has this long slender body but she has all the good fat pockets where she is supposed to. Besides that, she does things when she’s drinking that makes porn stars blush.
She is wedged in between Roz and Mandy in the back seat. Mandy is a pretty plain chick. Sandy brown hair. No real style to it. But Roz on the other hand, has the biggest, most godnormus tits in the world. They are so freaking big that people always think that she is some obese fat chick. It is just that she can very rarely find cloths to fit her. Girls are so cruel too. If she where’s anything that is sexy or revealing I the least bit, every bitch in the room glares, gives dirty looks and talks shit. The last time it happened, some guy was drooling all over himself at the site of these giant tits. That was until the guys girlfriend came up and accused Roz of being a fucking home wrecker, and beat the shit out her. It just took a little pull for those monster to rip through the top that she had on. Next thing Roz knew, she was on the ground crying, looking on while everyone laughed at her and pointing at the biggest tits on the most insecure girl in the world.
I wish I could say more about Mandy. She’s just fucking boring. The only reason why the girls brought her along in because she had enough money for gas for their trip. The only reason why I allowed that to happen is because without her, in about three hours, this story could get really dull.
“Tallulah? You cannot still be mad at me.”
Tallulah raises her head up and says, “Oh muthafucka yes I can bitch.”
“How was I supposed to know it was gonna blow?” Maureen asks.
“It is Spring fucking Break. Who stays at school during Spring fucking Break?” Then under her breath she whispers, “Jackass.”
“Look, Chico State is supposed to be thee party school. How was I supposed to know that this was their Spring Break week?” Maureen pauses and clears her throat. “Are Mandy and Roz still sleeping?”
Tallulah looks back and forth at them. They are sound asleep sawing logs like the greatest lumberjacks of any day. “Yep. Should I wake them?”
“No. Let them sleep. I don’t need everyone talking shit again.”
For some reason, most likely because Tallulah is a bitch, she slaps Roz across the face as hard as she could given the small place in which she is seated.
“What the fuck?” Roz yells.
“Oh, you had a little something on your face right here.” Tallulah trails off. “I thought is was a bug or something.”
“Whatever cunt.” Roz seems to be a little bit upset with the way she has been awoken.
Tallulah throws her head back and laughs and laughs. She then swings her head around to face Mandy with her hair all over her face. Then, at the top of her lungs. Tallulah yells in Mandy’s ear, “That’s some pretty fucking funny shit, huh?”
This causes Mandy to jump. But like I said before, Mandy is totally fucking boring and doesn’t serve much of a purpose other than to get our girls from here to there a little later.
“Where the fuck are we?” Mandy says.
Tallulah responds like a prophet of their generation with, “Six hours from Hell Fuck and the rest of our lives away from Shit Fuck.” Tallulah follows this pearl of wisdom with laughing and snorting.
“God, are you still drunk.” Asks Roz.
“We’ve been in the car for like seven hours.” Mandy adds.
Tallulah pulls a fifth of Jim Beam out form in between her legs, “Yep. I am still drunk.” She then leans into Mandy and lays her head upon Mandy’s shoulder. “You wanna take me home? I’m a real cheap date. I’m already all liquored up for ya.” Tallulah leans in for a kiss.
Mandy pushes her away, “Fucking Dyke!”
“Hey! Fuck that shit!” Maureen is a lesbian. She doesn’t like it when people, especially her friends, language like that.
“No. That’s okay.” Tallulah says, “I can dig it.”
“Well I can’t.” Maureen says.
“That’s cool. No worries.” After Tallulah says this, she rolls her eyes hard underneath the dark black sunglasses.
It’s been quiet for a couple minutes now so Roz tries to break the silence. She looks at Tallulah and says,“I didn’t know that you were into girls? Have you always been?”
“Oh I’m not. I just bi or tri or whatever, I don’t care. And besides, stuck in this car for seven damn hours even makes you look fuckable.” They all begin laugh. “Come here Sugar Tits!” Tallulah grabs Roz’s tits and starts squeezing them repeatedly. “Honk! Honk!” Tallulah yells.
“Get away!”
“Tickle, tickle, tickle.”
While Roz tries (but not hard enough) to get Tallulah off her insanely large knockers, Mandy asks Maureen a question.
“So when did you know that you were a lesbian?”
“We are not going to talk about that.” Maureen says in a stone face manner that left a lot of tension behind it.
“OK. Well, what about you Lena?”
Lena! Alright. Now we get to talk about Lena. Lena is a hot little blonde with droopy little “fuck me” eyes. She is the youngest one in the car by like five years. In fact, she is only 16 but no one I the car knows it. not even her girlfriend, Maureen who is about six years her senior.
Instead of Lena answering, Maureen does for her. “She’s not aloud to talk right now.”
“Why?” Mandy asks.
“Because I said so.” Maureen says and then looks over at her lover and for a second gets lost in her eyes. But, knowing she could kill everyone in the car by doing that, she stops and looks back toward the road.
Just then, Tallulah screams as if a giant 18 wheeler was barreling into them. “FUCK THIS SHIT!!! Pull the car over! Pull the fucking car over now!”
In a panic, Maureen says, “What the fuck? Why?”
“You dumb bitches promised me a good fucking time. You said we’d be partying and we haven’t done shit! Pull off the road.”
“Here. In the middle of nowhere?”
“Maureen, it’s the of somewhere! We are going to find a fucking club and have a good fucking time. What do you say girls?”
Roz is a little apprehensive. “I don’t know?”
Tallulah continues, “It’s a fucking adventure! We don’t know where we are. We don’t know anybody. We could go into a bar and say we are foreign exchange students from fucking France or super models from LA. Like these fucking bohicks would know any better? C’mon. We haven’t done shit in four days!”
“Alright, I’m down.” says Maureen.
“Okay.” Roz says.
“Fuck.” Mandy adds.
Lena just smiles. Then Roz says. “What about Lena?”
Maureen answers for her. “I said, I’m down.”
The girls scream as the car blares down the highway and exits at the next off ramp.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Frankenstein - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Victor sneaks back through the house, through the kitchen and through his door. Victor walks up the stairs. As Victor turns the corner, through the beaded curtain, he says, “No, I didn’t forget about you Frankenstein. I have your breakfast right here.”
Victor reaches down and picks up a bag of pet food. Victor then walks through his dining room, through his living and into his bedroom. There, on his nightstand next to his bed, is a cage. Inside this cage is the odd ball anti-hero of this story. It is a rat named Frankenstein.
Now, Victor named the rat Frankenstein for a few different reasons. I will start with just a couple. Victor relates a lot with Frankenstein the Monster. This is because of how misunderstood the creature was. All he wanted was love, and all that he received was fear and hate. Another reason why Victor named the rat Frankenstein is because, like me, he already had rats named Bela, Boris, Vincent, Edgar, Eric and Motley. Like me, Victor wanted to give his creature more mythical names instead of just names that were favorite actors of his.
Now that last reason that I will share with you is a good one! This reason is filled with speculation and all sorts of hear say and what have you (even though it is just hear say and what have you from Victor and myself). One night, not too long ago, when Victor was just walking around the lot in which the house sits that he lives in, he heard a very high pitch squeaking. It was ear piercing. Although I might want to add right here that I heard the shriek but Victor, Victor heard something else entirely. What Victor heard was a cry for help, coming from the direction of Shelly’s bonfire pit. Victor quickly turned and ran over to the pit. And right there, up against the stones and bricks of the pit was a shaking little rat. He was maybe no more than three inches from nose to tail and was a very light grey color. But the reason why our little friend was screaming was the very large nutria that sat a few inches from our rat friend.
Nutria’s were brought in to the Northwest after most of the beavers were killed by poachers and other assholes who liked to kill the beavers. They were brought in from Canada to try to trick the people of Northwest that there were still beavers running around. There were a few problems with this plan however. First off, Nutria’s do not have big beaver tails. Second, they are fucking huge! Third, they are extremely mean and territorial. So the few beavers that were left in the Northwest have all been pretty much killed off by the Nutria’s. Good plan.
So, Victor scares the Nutria off after it attacked Victor’s leg but somehow Victor managed to step on it. After this happened, the nutria scampered into the brush. The rat on the other hand was hurt; Victor thought for sure that it was dead. So, like any good individual, Victor brought it inside and tried to bring it back to life with the use of electricity! Victor unscrewed the light bulb from the lamp that sits on his end table and then he put the rat’s tail into his mouth and sucked on it. He got it really, really wet. He made sure that he was grounded with the soles of his rubber shoes on the ground and he sat the rat down, tail first, into the lamp.
Thunder clapped and light struck in great succession. All the electrical devises went haywire and sparks were coming out of every which way! Just as the music hit the crescendo, everything went calm, and in Victor’s hand, was a rat; a rat that now moved with new life!
Do I believe that story? No, not at all. Victor doesn’t even believe it. The main reason being is that he hasn’t thought of it yet. In about five years from now, when Victor gets caught trying to molest a child that lives nearby, the child will tell that story to the police as to how Victor got the kid up in his room. Apparently, Victor will say to that child, “Hey you want to see my rat that I raised from the dead?”
So now Victor sits on the edge of his bed hand feeding the rat, whose name is Frankenstein. Frankenstein doesn’t seem to be very hungry. Victor on the other hand, really wants Frankenstein to eat though because he doesn’t want Frankenstein to get any ideas about eating people after watching George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead! So, after about 10 minutes or so, Frankenstein eats a few pieces of corn and seed.
Victor sneaks back through the house, through the kitchen and through his door. Victor walks up the stairs. As Victor turns the corner, through the beaded curtain, he says, “No, I didn’t forget about you Frankenstein. I have your breakfast right here.”
Victor reaches down and picks up a bag of pet food. Victor then walks through his dining room, through his living and into his bedroom. There, on his nightstand next to his bed, is a cage. Inside this cage is the odd ball anti-hero of this story. It is a rat named Frankenstein.
Now, Victor named the rat Frankenstein for a few different reasons. I will start with just a couple. Victor relates a lot with Frankenstein the Monster. This is because of how misunderstood the creature was. All he wanted was love, and all that he received was fear and hate. Another reason why Victor named the rat Frankenstein is because, like me, he already had rats named Bela, Boris, Vincent, Edgar, Eric and Motley. Like me, Victor wanted to give his creature more mythical names instead of just names that were favorite actors of his.
Now that last reason that I will share with you is a good one! This reason is filled with speculation and all sorts of hear say and what have you (even though it is just hear say and what have you from Victor and myself). One night, not too long ago, when Victor was just walking around the lot in which the house sits that he lives in, he heard a very high pitch squeaking. It was ear piercing. Although I might want to add right here that I heard the shriek but Victor, Victor heard something else entirely. What Victor heard was a cry for help, coming from the direction of Shelly’s bonfire pit. Victor quickly turned and ran over to the pit. And right there, up against the stones and bricks of the pit was a shaking little rat. He was maybe no more than three inches from nose to tail and was a very light grey color. But the reason why our little friend was screaming was the very large nutria that sat a few inches from our rat friend.
Nutria’s were brought in to the Northwest after most of the beavers were killed by poachers and other assholes who liked to kill the beavers. They were brought in from Canada to try to trick the people of Northwest that there were still beavers running around. There were a few problems with this plan however. First off, Nutria’s do not have big beaver tails. Second, they are fucking huge! Third, they are extremely mean and territorial. So the few beavers that were left in the Northwest have all been pretty much killed off by the Nutria’s. Good plan.
So, Victor scares the Nutria off after it attacked Victor’s leg but somehow Victor managed to step on it. After this happened, the nutria scampered into the brush. The rat on the other hand was hurt; Victor thought for sure that it was dead. So, like any good individual, Victor brought it inside and tried to bring it back to life with the use of electricity! Victor unscrewed the light bulb from the lamp that sits on his end table and then he put the rat’s tail into his mouth and sucked on it. He got it really, really wet. He made sure that he was grounded with the soles of his rubber shoes on the ground and he sat the rat down, tail first, into the lamp.
Thunder clapped and light struck in great succession. All the electrical devises went haywire and sparks were coming out of every which way! Just as the music hit the crescendo, everything went calm, and in Victor’s hand, was a rat; a rat that now moved with new life!
Do I believe that story? No, not at all. Victor doesn’t even believe it. The main reason being is that he hasn’t thought of it yet. In about five years from now, when Victor gets caught trying to molest a child that lives nearby, the child will tell that story to the police as to how Victor got the kid up in his room. Apparently, Victor will say to that child, “Hey you want to see my rat that I raised from the dead?”
So now Victor sits on the edge of his bed hand feeding the rat, whose name is Frankenstein. Frankenstein doesn’t seem to be very hungry. Victor on the other hand, really wants Frankenstein to eat though because he doesn’t want Frankenstein to get any ideas about eating people after watching George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead! So, after about 10 minutes or so, Frankenstein eats a few pieces of corn and seed.
The Room Mate - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
By the way, all of this is true. It all really happened. Some names have been changed to protect people. I won’t tell you if I am Dale or Harry, but I am at least one of them.
Anyway. On with the show.
So it is now the middle of the night. I can’t tell you what time it is because the clock is facing away form me. Dale is asleep. Not well from the looks of it. He is sweating profusely. Kinda gross.
The sound of two people fucking their brains fills the air.
“Ahh!” Dale sits up in bed as if he was being awoken from a horrible nightmare. Dale looks around the room to see what time it is. The fucking has caught his attention though.
Curious, Dale gets up and tippy toes across his room. Dale slowly opens his door. He creeps out into the hallway. He looks around. It sounds like not only that they are fucking, but, that someone, probably Darla, is getting a good ass spanking while they are going at it.
He creeps across the hallway and as if he was having a problem hearing them, he places his ear up against the door. Dale grins, shakes his head and walks away.
Dale, I’m sure a little jealous, walks to the kitchen and grabs a cup of water. He takes a sip as he walks into the living room. He sits down, grabs the remote and turns on MASH. He looks to the VCR and notices that it is 3:30 am.
After sitting through MASH and an infomercial on a syringe that can inject your meats with garlic cloves, Harry’s bedroom door flies open.
Harry storms out, totally naked, dripping with sweat, and heads straight for the kitchen. Harry slams his bottle of empty bottle of Crown down on the counter, opens the refrigerator, grabs the jug of water and takes a huge gulp.
Dale looks over at him, “Man, you and Darla can really go at it.”
Harry swallows, “Darla left a long ass time ago.” He takes another drink.
“Then who is in there with you?” Dale seems confused.
Harry swallows. “Nobody.”
With that, Harry put the water back in the fridge and power walked his naked ass back into his room giving his door a nice hard slam.
Dale on the other hand, looks lost.
By the way, all of this is true. It all really happened. Some names have been changed to protect people. I won’t tell you if I am Dale or Harry, but I am at least one of them.
Anyway. On with the show.
So it is now the middle of the night. I can’t tell you what time it is because the clock is facing away form me. Dale is asleep. Not well from the looks of it. He is sweating profusely. Kinda gross.
The sound of two people fucking their brains fills the air.
“Ahh!” Dale sits up in bed as if he was being awoken from a horrible nightmare. Dale looks around the room to see what time it is. The fucking has caught his attention though.
Curious, Dale gets up and tippy toes across his room. Dale slowly opens his door. He creeps out into the hallway. He looks around. It sounds like not only that they are fucking, but, that someone, probably Darla, is getting a good ass spanking while they are going at it.
He creeps across the hallway and as if he was having a problem hearing them, he places his ear up against the door. Dale grins, shakes his head and walks away.
Dale, I’m sure a little jealous, walks to the kitchen and grabs a cup of water. He takes a sip as he walks into the living room. He sits down, grabs the remote and turns on MASH. He looks to the VCR and notices that it is 3:30 am.
After sitting through MASH and an infomercial on a syringe that can inject your meats with garlic cloves, Harry’s bedroom door flies open.
Harry storms out, totally naked, dripping with sweat, and heads straight for the kitchen. Harry slams his bottle of empty bottle of Crown down on the counter, opens the refrigerator, grabs the jug of water and takes a huge gulp.
Dale looks over at him, “Man, you and Darla can really go at it.”
Harry swallows, “Darla left a long ass time ago.” He takes another drink.
“Then who is in there with you?” Dale seems confused.
Harry swallows. “Nobody.”
With that, Harry put the water back in the fridge and power walked his naked ass back into his room giving his door a nice hard slam.
Dale on the other hand, looks lost.
Blood Lust Romance - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I am now sitting in the back seat of an old Oldsmobile Delta 88. It is brown with brown interior. Why? Because I needed an old dingy car for Blacky to drive. The best one I could think of was this particular car. My grandmother had one. Her’s was white with blue interior. It was a tank. One day when I was 14 or so she was driving me around town back in Cypress, California. We turned right onto Ball road from Walker Street and her car door flew open. I yelled at her. “Grandma Your door is open ” She slapped me and told me not to yell at her. Then she seemed surprised to find that her door was open. “I wondered why it was so loud in here,” she said. After that she hit a couple of parked cars in the neighborhood and we deiced that granny shouldn’t drive anymore.
Anyway.
I’m in the back seat of Blacky’s car. He is driving. Seated next to him is his girl, Red. I tried to come up with some cool way that she got her name, like loving to go down on girls while they are on the rag or something. But that didn’t hold much water with me even though Snake will give that reason to Gilby a little bit later. It was really because when I think of a fucked up couple, I think of Krug and his girl from “Last House on the Left,” which is one of my favorite movies of all time. David Hess should have got a fucking Oscar for that.
Anyway.
The only light that comes in the car is from us driving under the street lights. They are not speaking to each other. At first, it was because I wanted to build the suspense at the beginning of this scene. But really it is because “Omaha” by Waylon Jennings is on the radio. I really like that song. So in their heads I told them to shut the fuck up.
We reach our destination. It is Café Westminster, on Westminster Boulevard where it meets the 405 freeway—in the same parking lot as the In and Out burger and the Motel 6. They walk out onto the patio because they smoke. It is more because I smoke and I want to hear what is going on. The patio is long and narrow. You can fit two tables across it but it goes back as far as the building. At the end of the patio sits Snake and Gilby. Snake just told Gilby how Red got her name as we walked up. I sit a couple of tables back just so I do not interfere.
Blacky throws a grocery bag down on the floor next to a chair which faces the exit, then sits. Now Blacky is an old school mother fucker. He is about 50. His body looks a lot younger, but his face seems as if it may have worn more years than that. Back in the old days, Blacky ran this town. He was the boss. But as everyone who worked for him started falling to the cops or to rival gangs Blacky realized that he was getting pretty lonely. The thing that did it though was when kids half his age started pushing him out. Now the town is run by Asian gangs. I wish I could tell you what nationality these gangs are, but I can’t. I am just some fucked up honkey. I don’t think it would add a lot to the story anyway.
Anyway.
As Blacky got older and his buddies went down, he got pushed out. He was reduced to just a plain old street thug. Most of his old partners are out of the can now but have deiced to try to go straight. One guy named Candy opened a bar where Blacky actually met Gilby. I was there too. I let Gilby wear my coat.
Anyway.
So now Blacky runs around with younger goons. They are all the same, old or young. It really doesn’t matter. Blacky put his feet up on the table and lit a cigar while I told you his little background story. They heckled the Mexican that came up to give them water. They ordered some coffee and then threw a toothpick at the waiter. They are still laughing right now. Red sat down on his lap. She puts her arms around Blacky’s neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. She reaches down to rub his crotch on top of his tight faded black jeans. He likes it but pushes her off of him. She sits next to him.
Now Red is about 15 years younger than Blacky. She is an ex-hooker that Blacky picked up when he was trying his luck at pimping. She was such a conniving little bitch that they ultimately fell in love. She acts like a little kid most of the time and then a dirty whore for any time left over. The window next to her faces the inside of the restaurant. Red notices that there is a little kid sitting up on his knees looking out the window at her. She puts her face up to the window. A small sheet of glass separates the two. Red smiles and then sticks out her tongue and scares the shit out of the little kid. Really. The kid shit his pants. In a couple of minutes his mother will become aware of it and drag him by the arm to the bathroom clean him up and spank him. She will feel bad in a couple of years though when she finds out it is a medical problem that makes him shit his pants.
Anyway.
Gilby is looking at the menu right now. He hasn’t eaten anything all day. I made him do that so he would be really hungry right now. He is also wearing my old Evil Dead shirt. I let him wear it because I just seem to get fatter and fatter. It doesn’t look good on me anymore. When I wear it I feel like those old geeky motherfuckers at horror conventions who don’t look like they shower and still live at their mom’s even though they are in their late thirties. I can see the guy at the convention now. His stomach is hanging out of the bottom of his shirt. Fuck. I’m gonna get a salad instead of the tuna melt.
Gilby looks a lot like my friend Jeb. Tall and skinny with a beard and dreadlocks. He wears glasses too. Thin frame. Makes him look smart. Snake looks a lot like this guy I used to know that looked a lot like Davey Havok from AFI.
“So, Blacky, where is this fucking guy?” Snake blurts out.
Blacky looks pissed. “Hey, I told you he would be here. And second, don’t you fucking talk to me like you’re running shit around here, shit head. Cuz you ain’t,” says Blacky.
“Ya, shit head,” Red chimes in. “You ain’t running shit around here. This is Blacky’s show.” She turns to Blacky. “Tell’em, Honey.”
“I just fucking did you dumb bitch. Pay fucking attention.”
Snake laughs a bit under his breath as do I. But Gilby is still staring at the menu. He is getting very hungry.
“So are we gonna get any food or something?” says Gilby. “The tuna melts here are pretty damn good.”
I told him that.
Snake adds his two cents. “Ya, I could go for a sandwich.”
“No one is getting any sandwiches,” says Blacky.
“Why the fuck not?” Snake spits out.
Now the one thing that Blacky has never gotten used to is how the younger generation of thugs have no respect. Back in the old days if someone would have said that to Blacky he would’ve gutted the poor bastard where he stood. But times are hard. There are not that many goons who want to work with an old timer any more.
But Blacky put his finger out and pointed it at Snake. Blacky looked down his finger like he was aiming a gun right at Snakes head. And said, “Shut the fuck up.”
With all that build up you might have thought that Blacky would come up with something a bit better wouldn’t you? Me too. Blacky isn’t the most articulate guy in the world I guess.
“Ya, shut the fuck up! God!” says Red.
Then Blacky looks at her and paces his words. “Shut the fuck up!”
At this point they have managed to get the attention of everyone on the patio. Blacky notices this and throws his arms up. “Do you assholes need something? Mind your own fucking
business! ”
When Blacky said the word “assholes” he glanced past me. For that I am going to give him a vagina for a couple seconds. When it happens he will say “Fuckrocket ” so you know that it happened.
Everyone on the patio finally turns around and as this is happening Johnny walks up. Johnny is late. He is late due to the suggestion of an actor I know who thought Johnny should be late because he and his girlfriend got into a fight about him going out tonight. Johnny was stupid enough to tell his girlfriend where he was going and what he was doing. They yelled for a while but then he yelled at her some more because she used a Brillo pad on his new Teflon frying pan. She fucked it up. Johnny pulled her hair a bit and grinded his teeth when he called her a stupid bitch and a cunt. He should have known better than to do that. Her father used to say that to her while he was sodomizing her when she was twelve. She left and went to her mom’s house where her mother convinced her never to go back to him again.
Johnny looks exactly like my friend John. John has big blue bulging eyes coming out of his head. So does Johnny. John also weighs about 98 pounds soaking wet. So does Johnny. John has long black hair and stubble. So does Johnny, but Johnny’s stubble isn’t as long as John’s
Johnny and Snake make eye contact. So Snake puts his hand out to shake Johnny’s hand. As Johnny goes for it, Blacky stops them.
“No fucking names, alright?” Blacky says. “I don’t know this guy too well.”
This is a half truth and I will tell you more about that later. But there now is a cloud of silence.
Blacky eyeballs a chair for Johnny to sit in. Johnny takes the seat. He is now at the head of the table. Johnny is shaking a great deal. He is a little nervous, but he is shaking because he is an ex-tweaker. He has done so much speed during his life that he always has the shakes.
“You, my friend, are late,” Blacky says slowly.
“Ya. Sorry.”
“You look nervous. You cool?”
“Ya. I’m cool. Don’t sweat it.”
Blacky stares at him a little bit longer and then reaches down for his grocery bag. Inside of it are brown sandwich bags. He throws them on the table. Blacky then puts one in front of each of them.
“In front of you is a bag with a color written on it. Inside the bag is a ski mask that matches the color written on the bag. That color is your name. Got it? I don’t want anyone using their real names.”
They each look at their bags. Johnny’s bag says “Blue”. Gilby’s bag says “Green”. You probably already guessed what color Blacky and Red have. But Snake, Snake can’t find the color on his bag.
“My bag doesn’t say anything on it.”
“Because your mask,” Blacky whispers, “it’s brown.”
“What?”
“Because your mask. It’s brown.” Blacky gets agitated. “It’s a brown fucking lunch bag. It’s brown. It’s a brown fucking mask ”
“Oh!” Snake replies. “Shit, sorry.”
Snake laughs for what a dumb ass he is. Then Gilby pops off. “Just like in 'Reservoir Dogs.' Don’t you guys love that movie?
Gilby then starts to mimic Steve Bushemi from the movie. “I don’t want to be Mr. Pink. Why don’t you be Mr. Pink?”
This made Snake laugh even harder. “That’s right! Holy shit! Remember when that guy pulled out that fucking…”
Blacky cuts Snake off. Blacky is pissed. “Can you drama fags fucking pay attention?”
Gilby apologizes. “Sorry boss.”
“All right. Now let’s get down to business.” Blacky says, “FUCKROCKET!”
Blacky right now has a very odd look on his face. Snake and Red both think that Blacky has finally lost it. “Nothing. Never mind. I’m fine.”
Then Snake pushed Blacky a little too far. “So….I’m Mr. Brown?”
Blacky yells. “Fuck this! Fuck this stupid fucking shit! ”
Blacky takes all the bags from the table and throws them down on the ground. Blacky turns and looks at Red.
“You are no longer allowed to have any say on how we do things anymore. You got that?”
“What? I think it’s cute.”
“It’s gay.”
Blacky is not the most PC guy around. He’s old school.
Back home, my dog just pissed on the carpet. I should have taken him out.
Blacky breaks. “Alright. Gilby, Snake, this is Johnny. Hurry up and say your fucking ‘Hellos’ so we could get down to business.”
Everyone looks around and introduces each other. Johnny has already met Blacky and Red though.
Blacky looks Gilby in the eye. “Now Gilby. You’re sure, without a doubt, about our situation tonight.”
“Ya. The girl, her folks are gone on a fucking cruise somewhere. They ain’t coming home anytime soon. She said that one of her girlfriends will be staying with her off and on. Or for a while or some shit.”
Johnny interjects. “And you know this how?”
“She told me.”
“You know her?”
“Ya, I know her.”
“From where?”
“At this bar I go to. I was picking up on her, had some drinks, went back to her place, fucked the shit out of her…..”
Johnny stands up. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m putting my neck on the line because some drunk whore told you stories at a fucking bar? I’ve got to be out of my mind ”
Blacky grabs Johnny’s arm and pulls Johnny towards him. Blacky’s face is about the width of a cunny hair from Johnny’s. Blacky grits his teeth and whispers…. “Keep your fucking voice down you stupid piece of shit. Sit down and listen.” Blacky forces Johnny back into the chair.
“Little fucking emotional outbursts are absolutely unfuckingacceptable! You will cool it or I will fucking loose it. Are we understood?”
“Ya. We are.”
“Now, I would not be doing this job if I thought for a second that there was a chance of us getting fucked. I’ve been scoping the place. Gilby’s story checks out. Now someone pay for my coffee and get in the van you damn leeches.”
I forgot to have the waiter come out and bring them their coffee. So when Blacky was giving Johnny what for, I made the coffee appear on the table. I gave Blacky decaf and he didn’t even notice. Fucking douche bag.
I am now sitting in the back seat of an old Oldsmobile Delta 88. It is brown with brown interior. Why? Because I needed an old dingy car for Blacky to drive. The best one I could think of was this particular car. My grandmother had one. Her’s was white with blue interior. It was a tank. One day when I was 14 or so she was driving me around town back in Cypress, California. We turned right onto Ball road from Walker Street and her car door flew open. I yelled at her. “Grandma Your door is open ” She slapped me and told me not to yell at her. Then she seemed surprised to find that her door was open. “I wondered why it was so loud in here,” she said. After that she hit a couple of parked cars in the neighborhood and we deiced that granny shouldn’t drive anymore.
Anyway.
I’m in the back seat of Blacky’s car. He is driving. Seated next to him is his girl, Red. I tried to come up with some cool way that she got her name, like loving to go down on girls while they are on the rag or something. But that didn’t hold much water with me even though Snake will give that reason to Gilby a little bit later. It was really because when I think of a fucked up couple, I think of Krug and his girl from “Last House on the Left,” which is one of my favorite movies of all time. David Hess should have got a fucking Oscar for that.
Anyway.
The only light that comes in the car is from us driving under the street lights. They are not speaking to each other. At first, it was because I wanted to build the suspense at the beginning of this scene. But really it is because “Omaha” by Waylon Jennings is on the radio. I really like that song. So in their heads I told them to shut the fuck up.
We reach our destination. It is Café Westminster, on Westminster Boulevard where it meets the 405 freeway—in the same parking lot as the In and Out burger and the Motel 6. They walk out onto the patio because they smoke. It is more because I smoke and I want to hear what is going on. The patio is long and narrow. You can fit two tables across it but it goes back as far as the building. At the end of the patio sits Snake and Gilby. Snake just told Gilby how Red got her name as we walked up. I sit a couple of tables back just so I do not interfere.
Blacky throws a grocery bag down on the floor next to a chair which faces the exit, then sits. Now Blacky is an old school mother fucker. He is about 50. His body looks a lot younger, but his face seems as if it may have worn more years than that. Back in the old days, Blacky ran this town. He was the boss. But as everyone who worked for him started falling to the cops or to rival gangs Blacky realized that he was getting pretty lonely. The thing that did it though was when kids half his age started pushing him out. Now the town is run by Asian gangs. I wish I could tell you what nationality these gangs are, but I can’t. I am just some fucked up honkey. I don’t think it would add a lot to the story anyway.
Anyway.
As Blacky got older and his buddies went down, he got pushed out. He was reduced to just a plain old street thug. Most of his old partners are out of the can now but have deiced to try to go straight. One guy named Candy opened a bar where Blacky actually met Gilby. I was there too. I let Gilby wear my coat.
Anyway.
So now Blacky runs around with younger goons. They are all the same, old or young. It really doesn’t matter. Blacky put his feet up on the table and lit a cigar while I told you his little background story. They heckled the Mexican that came up to give them water. They ordered some coffee and then threw a toothpick at the waiter. They are still laughing right now. Red sat down on his lap. She puts her arms around Blacky’s neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. She reaches down to rub his crotch on top of his tight faded black jeans. He likes it but pushes her off of him. She sits next to him.
Now Red is about 15 years younger than Blacky. She is an ex-hooker that Blacky picked up when he was trying his luck at pimping. She was such a conniving little bitch that they ultimately fell in love. She acts like a little kid most of the time and then a dirty whore for any time left over. The window next to her faces the inside of the restaurant. Red notices that there is a little kid sitting up on his knees looking out the window at her. She puts her face up to the window. A small sheet of glass separates the two. Red smiles and then sticks out her tongue and scares the shit out of the little kid. Really. The kid shit his pants. In a couple of minutes his mother will become aware of it and drag him by the arm to the bathroom clean him up and spank him. She will feel bad in a couple of years though when she finds out it is a medical problem that makes him shit his pants.
Anyway.
Gilby is looking at the menu right now. He hasn’t eaten anything all day. I made him do that so he would be really hungry right now. He is also wearing my old Evil Dead shirt. I let him wear it because I just seem to get fatter and fatter. It doesn’t look good on me anymore. When I wear it I feel like those old geeky motherfuckers at horror conventions who don’t look like they shower and still live at their mom’s even though they are in their late thirties. I can see the guy at the convention now. His stomach is hanging out of the bottom of his shirt. Fuck. I’m gonna get a salad instead of the tuna melt.
Gilby looks a lot like my friend Jeb. Tall and skinny with a beard and dreadlocks. He wears glasses too. Thin frame. Makes him look smart. Snake looks a lot like this guy I used to know that looked a lot like Davey Havok from AFI.
“So, Blacky, where is this fucking guy?” Snake blurts out.
Blacky looks pissed. “Hey, I told you he would be here. And second, don’t you fucking talk to me like you’re running shit around here, shit head. Cuz you ain’t,” says Blacky.
“Ya, shit head,” Red chimes in. “You ain’t running shit around here. This is Blacky’s show.” She turns to Blacky. “Tell’em, Honey.”
“I just fucking did you dumb bitch. Pay fucking attention.”
Snake laughs a bit under his breath as do I. But Gilby is still staring at the menu. He is getting very hungry.
“So are we gonna get any food or something?” says Gilby. “The tuna melts here are pretty damn good.”
I told him that.
Snake adds his two cents. “Ya, I could go for a sandwich.”
“No one is getting any sandwiches,” says Blacky.
“Why the fuck not?” Snake spits out.
Now the one thing that Blacky has never gotten used to is how the younger generation of thugs have no respect. Back in the old days if someone would have said that to Blacky he would’ve gutted the poor bastard where he stood. But times are hard. There are not that many goons who want to work with an old timer any more.
But Blacky put his finger out and pointed it at Snake. Blacky looked down his finger like he was aiming a gun right at Snakes head. And said, “Shut the fuck up.”
With all that build up you might have thought that Blacky would come up with something a bit better wouldn’t you? Me too. Blacky isn’t the most articulate guy in the world I guess.
“Ya, shut the fuck up! God!” says Red.
Then Blacky looks at her and paces his words. “Shut the fuck up!”
At this point they have managed to get the attention of everyone on the patio. Blacky notices this and throws his arms up. “Do you assholes need something? Mind your own fucking
business! ”
When Blacky said the word “assholes” he glanced past me. For that I am going to give him a vagina for a couple seconds. When it happens he will say “Fuckrocket ” so you know that it happened.
Everyone on the patio finally turns around and as this is happening Johnny walks up. Johnny is late. He is late due to the suggestion of an actor I know who thought Johnny should be late because he and his girlfriend got into a fight about him going out tonight. Johnny was stupid enough to tell his girlfriend where he was going and what he was doing. They yelled for a while but then he yelled at her some more because she used a Brillo pad on his new Teflon frying pan. She fucked it up. Johnny pulled her hair a bit and grinded his teeth when he called her a stupid bitch and a cunt. He should have known better than to do that. Her father used to say that to her while he was sodomizing her when she was twelve. She left and went to her mom’s house where her mother convinced her never to go back to him again.
Johnny looks exactly like my friend John. John has big blue bulging eyes coming out of his head. So does Johnny. John also weighs about 98 pounds soaking wet. So does Johnny. John has long black hair and stubble. So does Johnny, but Johnny’s stubble isn’t as long as John’s
Johnny and Snake make eye contact. So Snake puts his hand out to shake Johnny’s hand. As Johnny goes for it, Blacky stops them.
“No fucking names, alright?” Blacky says. “I don’t know this guy too well.”
This is a half truth and I will tell you more about that later. But there now is a cloud of silence.
Blacky eyeballs a chair for Johnny to sit in. Johnny takes the seat. He is now at the head of the table. Johnny is shaking a great deal. He is a little nervous, but he is shaking because he is an ex-tweaker. He has done so much speed during his life that he always has the shakes.
“You, my friend, are late,” Blacky says slowly.
“Ya. Sorry.”
“You look nervous. You cool?”
“Ya. I’m cool. Don’t sweat it.”
Blacky stares at him a little bit longer and then reaches down for his grocery bag. Inside of it are brown sandwich bags. He throws them on the table. Blacky then puts one in front of each of them.
“In front of you is a bag with a color written on it. Inside the bag is a ski mask that matches the color written on the bag. That color is your name. Got it? I don’t want anyone using their real names.”
They each look at their bags. Johnny’s bag says “Blue”. Gilby’s bag says “Green”. You probably already guessed what color Blacky and Red have. But Snake, Snake can’t find the color on his bag.
“My bag doesn’t say anything on it.”
“Because your mask,” Blacky whispers, “it’s brown.”
“What?”
“Because your mask. It’s brown.” Blacky gets agitated. “It’s a brown fucking lunch bag. It’s brown. It’s a brown fucking mask ”
“Oh!” Snake replies. “Shit, sorry.”
Snake laughs for what a dumb ass he is. Then Gilby pops off. “Just like in 'Reservoir Dogs.' Don’t you guys love that movie?
Gilby then starts to mimic Steve Bushemi from the movie. “I don’t want to be Mr. Pink. Why don’t you be Mr. Pink?”
This made Snake laugh even harder. “That’s right! Holy shit! Remember when that guy pulled out that fucking…”
Blacky cuts Snake off. Blacky is pissed. “Can you drama fags fucking pay attention?”
Gilby apologizes. “Sorry boss.”
“All right. Now let’s get down to business.” Blacky says, “FUCKROCKET!”
Blacky right now has a very odd look on his face. Snake and Red both think that Blacky has finally lost it. “Nothing. Never mind. I’m fine.”
Then Snake pushed Blacky a little too far. “So….I’m Mr. Brown?”
Blacky yells. “Fuck this! Fuck this stupid fucking shit! ”
Blacky takes all the bags from the table and throws them down on the ground. Blacky turns and looks at Red.
“You are no longer allowed to have any say on how we do things anymore. You got that?”
“What? I think it’s cute.”
“It’s gay.”
Blacky is not the most PC guy around. He’s old school.
Back home, my dog just pissed on the carpet. I should have taken him out.
Blacky breaks. “Alright. Gilby, Snake, this is Johnny. Hurry up and say your fucking ‘Hellos’ so we could get down to business.”
Everyone looks around and introduces each other. Johnny has already met Blacky and Red though.
Blacky looks Gilby in the eye. “Now Gilby. You’re sure, without a doubt, about our situation tonight.”
“Ya. The girl, her folks are gone on a fucking cruise somewhere. They ain’t coming home anytime soon. She said that one of her girlfriends will be staying with her off and on. Or for a while or some shit.”
Johnny interjects. “And you know this how?”
“She told me.”
“You know her?”
“Ya, I know her.”
“From where?”
“At this bar I go to. I was picking up on her, had some drinks, went back to her place, fucked the shit out of her…..”
Johnny stands up. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m putting my neck on the line because some drunk whore told you stories at a fucking bar? I’ve got to be out of my mind ”
Blacky grabs Johnny’s arm and pulls Johnny towards him. Blacky’s face is about the width of a cunny hair from Johnny’s. Blacky grits his teeth and whispers…. “Keep your fucking voice down you stupid piece of shit. Sit down and listen.” Blacky forces Johnny back into the chair.
“Little fucking emotional outbursts are absolutely unfuckingacceptable! You will cool it or I will fucking loose it. Are we understood?”
“Ya. We are.”
“Now, I would not be doing this job if I thought for a second that there was a chance of us getting fucked. I’ve been scoping the place. Gilby’s story checks out. Now someone pay for my coffee and get in the van you damn leeches.”
I forgot to have the waiter come out and bring them their coffee. So when Blacky was giving Johnny what for, I made the coffee appear on the table. I gave Blacky decaf and he didn’t even notice. Fucking douche bag.
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