Beverly: California tan, waxed pubes, 40 doubleD’s and nipples sticking out like a pair of golf cleats. Her tits should
hang in The National Gallery! he reveled as he dug. And Melissa? A cosmetic-surgery paragon; she had a body on her that would put a
stiffer on the Pope! Then there was Alicyn, whose vaginal barrel was
more dextrous than an olympic gymnast. Oooo-eeee! he thought.
Not to mention Shelly and Kelly, two brick-shit house redhead
twins whose favorite bedroom game was “Sandwich.” Rudy never
hesitated to play the part of the cheese.
There were so many, an endless Whitman’s Sampler of sex! Shit yeah! I’ll move them all here! The entire bimbo brigade!
I’ll build a fucking luxury apartment complex in the back yard! He could picture it. A different chick every day, a mass orgy every
night! He’d eat Beluga caviar out of nut-tan bellybuttons, abdomens.
Slurp Perrier-Jouet from Tit Valleys. Blondes on the half-shell,
baby! Redheads Au Gratin, and Brunettes Au Jus! I will live like a
Renaissance prince! Yeah. And Gormok? And Beth? Rudy’s grin
darkened in the moonlight. He rested a moment. Then he began to
dig the second grave.
“You come out here with me,” he insisted. “I need you to hold the
flashlight. ”
“All right,” Beth agreed. “And bring the gun.”
Even bereft of arms and legs, Gormok was not easy lugging up the
stairs. The fucker weighs more than a pallet of bricks! Rudy thought
between grunts. Then, as he lowered the torso into the wheelbarrow,
Rudy winced as if slapped. Gormok, apparently unable to control his renal system, urinated quite liberally into Rudy’s face.
Beth laughed.
“Dear Rudy, ho!” Gormok exclaimed. “My deepest apologies!
Such
incontinence, I assure you, is quite a contretemps!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Rudy forced himself to reply, dripping warmly.
“I guess a man’s gotta go when he’s gotta go.”
“And, goodly friend, hast lovely Beth enlightened thee? The wondrous
news that the harvest of my loins hast given her a belly large with
child?”
“Uh, yeah,” Rudy replied. His back strained as he trundled the
wheelbarrow along the pool deck. “That’s, uh, that’s why we’re going
out back, you know, to have a party, just the three of us.”
“Great Ea! My joy comes unbridled!” Gormok exclaimed, close
to tears. His stumps roved in glee. “A celebration!”
There’s gonna be a celebration, all right , Rudy avowed as he grunted onward. I’m gonna bury both of you whacks, and celebrate by pissing on your graves .
The great back yard of the estate shimmered in quiet moonlight.
It was warm out tonight, and pretty--a great night for burying people.
Rudy pushed the laden wheelbarrow to the back of the property. He
hefted Gormok’s trunk and set it beside the first hole. The mound of
freshly turned soil blocked the second hole from Beth’s sight.
“But such a strange place for a celebration,” Gormok’s head
remarked, craning atop the torso.
Rudy took the gun from Beth, who stood aside with a smirk.
He checked the cylinder, saw that it was loaded, then snapped it shut with a flip of the wrist.
“Do it now,” Beth ordered.
Rudy smiled. “What I’m gonna do, you torso-fucking little slut, you Babylonian-cum-swallowing whore, is kill the both of you.”
Then he aimed the revolver at Beth’s stone-cold face.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been planning? Use your brain, Rudy. Think! Gormok’s an alomancer—he can foresee the future. If you think all we’ve
been doing down there is fucking, then you’re even dumber than I
thought.”
“I . . . You . . . , ” Rudy said in perplexion. What the— “I had the guy at the gun shop take the powder out of the bullets,” Beth next informed him. “It won’t
fire.”
Rudy snapped the trigger a dozen times, each drop of the hammer resounding in a quick metallic click!
“But this one will.”
Rudy peed his pants when Beth pointed another revolver
hang in The National Gallery! he reveled as he dug. And Melissa? A cosmetic-surgery paragon; she had a body on her that would put a
stiffer on the Pope! Then there was Alicyn, whose vaginal barrel was
more dextrous than an olympic gymnast. Oooo-eeee! he thought.
Not to mention Shelly and Kelly, two brick-shit house redhead
twins whose favorite bedroom game was “Sandwich.” Rudy never
hesitated to play the part of the cheese.
There were so many, an endless Whitman’s Sampler of sex! Shit yeah! I’ll move them all here! The entire bimbo brigade!
I’ll build a fucking luxury apartment complex in the back yard! He could picture it. A different chick every day, a mass orgy every
night! He’d eat Beluga caviar out of nut-tan bellybuttons, abdomens.
Slurp Perrier-Jouet from Tit Valleys. Blondes on the half-shell,
baby! Redheads Au Gratin, and Brunettes Au Jus! I will live like a
Renaissance prince! Yeah. And Gormok? And Beth? Rudy’s grin
darkened in the moonlight. He rested a moment. Then he began to
dig the second grave.
“You come out here with me,” he insisted. “I need you to hold the
flashlight. ”
“All right,” Beth agreed. “And bring the gun.”
Even bereft of arms and legs, Gormok was not easy lugging up the
stairs. The fucker weighs more than a pallet of bricks! Rudy thought
between grunts. Then, as he lowered the torso into the wheelbarrow,
Rudy winced as if slapped. Gormok, apparently unable to control his renal system, urinated quite liberally into Rudy’s face.
Beth laughed.
“Dear Rudy, ho!” Gormok exclaimed. “My deepest apologies!
Such
incontinence, I assure you, is quite a contretemps!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Rudy forced himself to reply, dripping warmly.
“I guess a man’s gotta go when he’s gotta go.”
“And, goodly friend, hast lovely Beth enlightened thee? The wondrous
news that the harvest of my loins hast given her a belly large with
child?”
“Uh, yeah,” Rudy replied. His back strained as he trundled the
wheelbarrow along the pool deck. “That’s, uh, that’s why we’re going
out back, you know, to have a party, just the three of us.”
“Great Ea! My joy comes unbridled!” Gormok exclaimed, close
to tears. His stumps roved in glee. “A celebration!”
There’s gonna be a celebration, all right , Rudy avowed as he grunted onward. I’m gonna bury both of you whacks, and celebrate by pissing on your graves .
The great back yard of the estate shimmered in quiet moonlight.
It was warm out tonight, and pretty--a great night for burying people.
Rudy pushed the laden wheelbarrow to the back of the property. He
hefted Gormok’s trunk and set it beside the first hole. The mound of
freshly turned soil blocked the second hole from Beth’s sight.
“But such a strange place for a celebration,” Gormok’s head
remarked, craning atop the torso.
Rudy took the gun from Beth, who stood aside with a smirk.
He checked the cylinder, saw that it was loaded, then snapped it shut with a flip of the wrist.
“Do it now,” Beth ordered.
Rudy smiled. “What I’m gonna do, you torso-fucking little slut, you Babylonian-cum-swallowing whore, is kill the both of you.”
Then he aimed the revolver at Beth’s stone-cold face.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been planning? Use your brain, Rudy. Think! Gormok’s an alomancer—he can foresee the future. If you think all we’ve
been doing down there is fucking, then you’re even dumber than I
thought.”
“I . . . You . . . , ” Rudy said in perplexion. What the— “I had the guy at the gun shop take the powder out of the bullets,” Beth next informed him. “It won’t
fire.”
Rudy snapped the trigger a dozen times, each drop of the hammer resounding in a quick metallic click!
“But this one will.”
Rudy peed his pants when Beth pointed another revolver
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