The sun was trying to stream in through the grit and grime that was coated on the trailer's windows. The seemingly endless dildo assault on Cathy had finally ended and she was laying in a corner, unconscious. Glenda had force fed her a handful of reds that a mule would have had a hard time swallowing. The whole incident had been like watching an X-rated version of the Twilight Zone. Glenda had taken off her fake crank, but was still lounging naked on the couch, like a sexually satisfied walrus, working on her sixth bottle of Bud and smoking from a large bowl of hash. I was trying my best not to look at her. I just kept my line of vision on a velvet rendition of Norm sitting on the table with the rest of the disciples in The Last Supper. Norm was drinking a bottle of beer and had his arm around Jesus' shoulders.
Glenda leaned
back and let out a loud belch that practically rattled
the windows, then glared over in my direction.
"Take off your fucking clothes off and get
over here."
"Huh?"
"You heard me, fuckstick! Take off your
clothes and get over here. You got a pussy to eat."
"Glenda, please, I don't think Norm
would..." I was stammering like one of the nutjobs
in the hospital.
"Listen to me, shitbird! I don't think you
quite understand the situation you're in. Norm and
the AB got you out of the stammer. So now you
work for us. What we say, whatever we want, you
do. Jesus Christ, you're stupid. What do you think
Cathy is here for? She's paying off a debt her old
man owes up in the penitentiary. If it wasn't for us
he'd have an asshole so big you could park a go-cart
in it. You owe us! We broke you out and we're
protecting you from the people who want your
stinking ass dead for hitting their boss in the head
with a goddamn ball bat! So you will do what we
say and you will damn well like it, scumbag!"
She leaned back on the couch, spread her
legs, and used her fingers to open up her gaping
snatch.
"Now get out of those fuckin' clothes and
get over here. But first get in my purse over there by
your chair and get me a fresh pack of cigarettes."
I shakily stood up and took off my clothes
while the fat hog leered at me and then picked up
the dildo and began to slide it into herself. I shuffled
over, stark naked, and opened up her purse. When I
bent over she must have seen something she liked.
"Oh, yah. I'm gonna break that brown eyed beaver
in good." My dick and balls shriveled up to the size
of a thimble and a couple of acorns. I was close to
puking or passing out, it didn't really matter at this
point.
Nestled in next to her Marlboros was a wad
of cash the size of a Big Mac. My adrenaline started
pumping like I had just mainlined a dose of meth
when I saw what was nestled under the cash. A
snub nosed .38.
Glenda had already realized her fuckup,
because by the time I had whirled around and aimed
the pistol, almost dropping the damn thing in the
process, she had already staggered to her feet.
"You better drop that goddamn piece right
now, asshole!"
She screamed.
Without thinking or aiming I fired off a
round. But the fist that I had broken on the guard's
head had swollen to the point that I couldn't even
open my hand so I was holding the gun with my
left, my wrong hand, so the first shot went wide of
Glenda's head and took out the living room window.
If you have never done it before, you wouldn't
believe how loud it is to shoot off a high caliber
pistol in a shitbox aluminum trailer.
"Jesus Christ! Have you lost your fucking
mind?"
Glenda started to slowly walk towards me.
"Now give me the gun you little pisspot and we'll
forget about everything, because I don't think you
know just what the hell you're doing." She pointed a
sausage sized finger to her head. "You might have
gone a little whacko here." She took another step.
"Let's just calm down here. Think it over."
I dropped my aim down to her tattoo
covered tits and started firing, four quick shots, the
force of the them driving her back down onto the
couch. She was sitting there, frantically trying to
stop the spouting geysers of blood that were
pumping out of her by covering them with her
hands, when I walked over and fired the remaining
shot into her head. Some of her brains blew out the
back of her skull and sprayed all over the curtains. I
dropped the gun, bent over and barfed on my bare
feet.
After I was through throwing up my shoes
and socks, I dressed as fast as humanly possible and
went back to Glenda's purse and shoved the wad of
cash and a big block of hash into my pocket. Cathy
must have been in a coma because she didn't move
a muscle through all that screaming and shooting. I
picked the pistol back up, wiped it off with my shirt,
and put the weapon in Cathy's hand. I was just
about ready to take off when I realized that I may
need the gun. Most likely someone was going to be
after my ass and I didn't want to get caught
unarmed. But I had used up all the bullets when I
dusted Glenda. I quickly went into the back
bedroom and began to pull dresser drawers out.
This fucking place had to be crawling with guns.
But nothing but crap and piss stained underwear,
Levis, and Harley t-shirts. Jackpot! In the closet I
found a sawed off shotgun and a box of .12 gauge
shells. Grabbing the shotgun I noticed a throw rug
on the bottom of the closet.