FIRST CHAPTERS: Works in
Progress Chapters 1-5
By Cody Cobb
"I didnt know I was sitting right next to the worlds
This is too cool!"
- A pupil leaving school for a university
Harry Tarcher hated pigeons. He loathed them almost as much as he despised
New York City. Harry and the Big Apple go way back together-35 years.
Hes lived there since the day of his birth. On the fifteenth day
of the fifth month in the year 2003, the single greatest event happened
His uncle was in ill health when he dictated his last will and testament,
which explains why he left it all to Harry. When word of his newfound
real estate reached him, he could hardly believe it. Hed been
waiting all his life to leave that god-forsaken hellhole of a city,
away from all those damned pigeons.
The inherited land, devoid of any advantageous wildlife whatsoever,
was perfect for a guy like Harry Tarcher. It was free, vast, cheap to
maintain, inaccessible to the public, and, most importantly, sustained
a continuous dearth of pigeons. The closest town to the 18,000 acres-Graff,
Texas-was only 12 miles away and nothing more than a parking lot for
a nearby university; so Harry knew thered be plenty of beer.
Without troubling himself to all the confusing legalities of obtaining
a simple gun license, Harry always carried around his 9mm handgun (in
case there might be a pigeon!). To his benefit, the lack of trees and
other plant life provided ample grounds for shooting things. Harry figured
whenever he needed more money for ammo, he could simply contract for
more nuclear waste dumping.
It couldnt get any better than this, he would think aloud. To
him, settling on barren land with nothing to lose was the pinnacle of
human achievement. As he lay in the bed of his 1992 Chevy, he mused
over what to do next.
Maybe now he could get to work on that bomb of his.
"But Im going to be late!"
"I dont care! Youre not leaving this house until you
give your mother a kiss!"
"Mom, please! The planes leaving in an hour!"
"This might be the last time I ever get to see my only son for
a good while, so I want a hug at least."
"Alright, alright, on the cheek
"There, that wasnt so hard, now was it?"
"Be careful, have fun, make me proud, and dont do-"
As Dustin Miller bolted out the door, she silently finished her sentence:
Karen didnt have to worry about her son doing drugs-he eschewed
the stuff like Karen did the rest of her family. She was just trying
to be the good mother, thats all. She has always kept close to
Dustin, providing him with all the unconditional love one could ever
ask for. Dustin never had asked for any.
Her husband, the late Geoffrey Miller, passed on at the ripe old age
of 28 due to pneumonia; leaving Karen to rear little Dustin all by herself.
She worked endlessly at making sure he studied hard and grew up without
much trouble. It was a rather incredible feat, considering she had almost
no experience as a city girl. However, spending most of her life in
a piss-ant town like Graff, Texas convinced her that almost anything
is better than rural life.
Her hair was completely gray by the time she was 33.
Dustin, on the other hand, couldnt be healthier. His physical
condition was top-notch and his mental skills fast approached what most
people would describe as "genius" status. He was a straight-A
whiz kid in high school, graduated a year early and received a full
scholarship to a college of his choice. He also had no friends. Thanks,
When the time to decide which college hed go to came, Dustin chose
the Roger E. Cayce University near Graff, Texas. The particular reasoning
behind this decision rests solely in the fact that Dustin knew Karen
wouldnt dare travel to any place within 50 miles of Graff; he
had heard many unsavory stories about the town from her. He was free
now; he could do whatever he wanted, and he didnt want Mother
Youre supposed to arrive at the airport an hour early. That way,
you can stand around doing nothing for 50 minutes. While replete with
most other virtues, Dustin is a five-year-old in line for Texas Thrill-coaster
when it comes to patience. He never did like to travel, and on the rare
occasions when his mother would drag him along, he hated every moment
of it. Today was no exception-only mother wasnt with him.
As Dustin stepped into the airplane, the rush of noisome odors nearly
shoved him backwards. So strong were the scents of messy babies, slowly
decaying seniors and under-washed strangers all jam-packed in the narrow,
claustrophobic aisle way that Dustin almost reconsidered the trip entirely.
Oh God, save me!
Dustin would have passed out at that moment had he not seen her in seat
13C. A tingly sensation raced throughout his now perspiring body as
he recalled his seating assignment: 27B. No, dammit! I wanna sit next
He needed to think of a plan soon, before someone else took the seat.
I know, thought the child prodigy, Ill sit right next to her!
It was a brilliant plan, flawlessly executed with polished aplomb.
Dustin, now not even noticing the rancid stench of baby puke three seat
rows ahead, had to think quickly what to do next. In another dazzling
display of strategic genius, Dustin eloquently introduced himself with
a resonating, "Heya."
"Hi," responded the blue-eyed blonde.
"Just going to Dallas, or you going somewhere else afterwards?"
Shocked by the strangers audacious approach on her personal affairs,
Alexis acerbically answered: "Dallas? What are you talking about?
This planes going to San Francisco!"
but the ticket says- the look of horror on Dustins
ensuing countenance triggered Alexis to fess up to her heinous crimes.
"Oh, Im just kidding you," she said, trying hard not
to giggle. "No, after we land, Im driving down to Graff"-Dustins
horror suddenly alleviated-"to visit my boyfriend,"-only to
come back-"Larry. By the way, Im Alexis."
"Dustin. Isnt that odd, Im on my way to Graff, too.
Going to Roger E. Cayce University this fall."
"Nice to meet you, Dustin. Larry goes to Cayce. Hes on the
football team. Lead Quarterback."
Just freakin great! My chances of making it with Sex-Goddess are
asymptotically approaching zero! Dustin, receiving an astonishing 102
in the class, always thought in terms of trigonometry when upset. "Wow,
whatre the odds?"
"Odds of what?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, wed like to welcome you aboard
American Airlines flight 502 non-stop flight to Dallas, Texas. If Dallas
is not in your travel plans, now would be a good time to disembark.
If you give your attention to Jimmy up in the front of the cabin, he
has a few demonstrations to show you before we take off . . . before
off we take . . . .off
"Ooh, be quiet! The flight attendant is going to explain to us
how seat belts work!"
I know shes trying to be funny, why am I not laughing? Laugh,
you fool! Laugh! Dustin had intended a sincere, light-hearted chuckle
at the joke. The English language, however, can hardly describe what
actually followed. "Guffaw" isnt a powerful enough word;
"cachinnate" just doesnt cut it; and "heehaw"
barely scratches the surface.
"HahAHehehEeheeH-snort - haheEhe.."
The look of disgust on her face was more than enough to tell him he
had really blown it. It was the look of "you mean to tell me Ill
be sitting next to this guy for close to 3 hours?!"
Sensing the danger of the situation, he coolly explained, "sorry,
but just you saying that made me think of something really funny that
happened a while back." That was complete bullshit, of course,
but it seemed to work well with Alexis.
" sokay, sometimes I get so rowdy that I actually cackle!"
Note to self: you are smooooth.
"So, what classes is Larry taking, if you dont mind me asking?"
"Not at all! Hes in the Agricultural Technology program!"
"Hmm, I dont think I have any of the same classes. Im
just taking all the basics. I dont really know what I want to
will prevent you from drowning in case we crash in water,
are located under the seats
Finding humor in that statement, Alexis remarked, "just what kind
of water is she talking about? Lakes? Rivers? Its not like were
going across the freakin Atlantic!"
All right, another joke. Take it easy this time, take it easy
crap, youre losing her! Say something, SAY
"So, uh, how long you gonna be in Graff? Few days?"
"Oh no, Im moving in with Larry. I always spend the summer
at my grandparents. You know, to help around with day-to-day living.
Granpappys nearing 85 and he still pays his own bills"!
"Aww, how nice of you! I wish I did something nice like that for
my grandparents. They died last summer, though." His shoulders
both slouched lugubriously as he finished the last sentence.
"Things happened. Old age?"
both occurred seconds apart
regulators. We won a huge lawsuit against the manufactures. It was pretty
big news at the time."
Alexis gasped. "You mean to tell me your grandparents were the
SINKING SENIORS?! How terrible!"
The story, as it happened, is far more complex and confusing than the
Ever since Mr. and Mrs. Miller entered their sixties, long after they
were already bored with life, they decided to do something exotic. Every
summer, for the next 13 years, they went scuba diving.
Being the frugal and possessive people they were, the Millers always
brought their own equipment with them. This had two benefits: 1, they
wouldnt be charged the insane prices for rental equipment that
most gullible tourist buy without suspicion; and 2, they could be certain
that their equipment was working properly and had been maintained well.
The first factor that played part in their watery demise was the ineptitude
of baggage handlers at DFW Airport. As the driver of the luggage train
took a sharp right on the tarmac, two bags fell out. The two bags-which
belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Miller-were promptly run over. Afterwards,
the parts inside, which totaled well over a thousand dollars in expenses,
hardly resembled scuba gear at all.
Knowing they couldnt waste the money already put into their weeklong
stay in Florida, the Millers simply opted to rent the scuba gear instead.
They told each other that they would do it this one time only, considering
the situation. They were right.
It turned out that the rental gear was rotten. The indolent shopkeeper
was too lazy to, well, keep shop. Four out of five times he didnt
check the equipment when a customer returned it. As a result, stagnant
salt waters corroded the vital parts in most of the regulators.
As the experienced divers they were, Mr. and Mrs. Miller had the sense
to check their equipment before using it. Everything would have gone
fine had not a careless woman (who was in the same diving party as the
Millers) forgotten her contacts that morning. She thought she could
do okay without them, but her fatuous arrogance proved deadly when she
picked up and misplaced the wrong scuba gear. Being a neophyte diver,
her gear (the gear Mrs. Miller mistakenly used on the fatal dive) was
not properly tested for any deviations or anomalies. Had Mrs. Miller
responded to her gut instinct that something was awry and checked the
regulator once again, she would have noticed the dilapidated diaphragm
inside. She excused the feeling as nothing more than acid reflux.
Mr. Miller, on the other hand, suffered from his own incompetence. He,
unlike his beloved wife of 47 years, was very trusting. Seeing the faded
"GUARANTEED SAFE!" sticker on the side was good enough for
him. Who needs a functioning exhaust valve anyway?
Most of the new divers stayed close to the surface when the time came
to jump in. The Millers wanted to see all the pretty marine life instead.
They were several dozen feet down when disaster struck. Mr. Miller was
the first to go when he caught sight of a harmless nurse shark, panicked,
and exhaled to quickly, effectively destroying what was left of the
Mrs. Miller, seeing her husband thrashing around violently, soon followed
suit as her frantic breathing busted the shoddy diaphragm in her ostensibly
It took the rest of the dive group nearly an hour to realize their senior
members had long sunk to the bottom of the gulf.
When news of their deaths reached other relatives, they did what every
other American wouldve done: sue! Dustins paternal uncle,
Frank, realized before anyone else that suing the rent shop would get
them, at best, a few measly thousand dollars. Encouraged by their lawyers,
they decided the manufacturer was to blame and sued them for several
millions. Not wanting to be associated with the now infamous SINKING
SENIORS, the manufacturer swiftly settled out of court for a satisfying
Karen didnt pursue the matter as much as one would think. She
was indifferent to the whole matter and didnt see any reason in
suing the company that had "killed" them. Frank, who was always
partial to (read: madly in love with) Karen, successfully persuaded
her to collect a small portion of the settlement ($250,000) only by
convincing her she could help set up Dustins career with it.
" Alls well that ends well, says Shakespeare.
They died doing what they loved most, and now their grandson is pretty
much set for the next couple of years of his life, if those investments
"Thats a very positive outlook on things, Dustin."
"Yeah, I guess. The first thing Im gonna do with the money
is buy me a brand new Ford F-250, 7.3 Liter Power Stroke Turbo Diesel,
Dustin was too busy concerning himself with his dream truck to notice
the sniffling old man wearing a bad hairpiece standing outside of the
"Uhh," said the confused man in a drawn-out undulating manner,
"lets see here
Crap! Hes gonna take my seat! Think, Dustin, think!
"Uh, yeah, some guy back there took my seat. Said he wanted to
sit by his boy. I just grabbed the nearest seat available."
"Sniffles" glanced quickly at the plethora of empty seats
then asked, "Uhh
Dustin, frustrated by the mans failure to simply take one of the
thousands of empty seats available, blindly answered, "18D."
"Sniffles" timidly turned around and left for a few seconds,
came back, wiped his nose with the sleeve of his coat resulting in a
trail of mucus 8 inches long, and said "Umm, yeah
uh, nobody there."
Then sit in the freakin seat, you moron! Cant you see Im
trying to score?!
"Is that so? Well
Ive already put my belongings in the
overhead compartments, and itd be a real hassle to move em.
So could you go ahead and sit somewhere else, please?"
With a half "yeah" half "uhh" reply, the human snot
factory dismally obliged.
"I didnt know I was sitting right next to the worlds
greatest liar! This is too cool!"
"Im that bad?"
"It got old McSniffles out of the way, did it not?"
"You see right through me."
"I knew this wasnt your seat the moment you stepped on the
plane. Its okay. Id rather have you next to me than catch
I love this girl!
Gonoph - a pickpocket; thief
Had Curt Tersely passed 6th grade English Class, he might know why people
always snickered after learning his name. However, like every other
16-year-old in middle school, he found going there to be a waste of
time. Besides, he would reason, pickpocketing is way more profitable.
The formula for his thievery was simple, easy to execute and virtually
risk free-if done correctly. It involved staking out at random airports,
filching funds from lost tourists and robbing small children like a
common schoolyard bully.
Curt would travel across country, jumping from airport to airport with
no real destination or plan. The only inconvenience in doing this is
that hed spend the bulk of his life living in airports, forcing
him to steal just a little extra for the outrageously priced food (for
example; the $3 he spent on the bland pretzel currently in his hand).
Whenever he wanted to jump airports, hed merely steal a ticket
(and complementing ID) from someone who closely resembled him and go
to whatever city was listed on it. He was lucky to have the kind of
face that nobody really remembers, since a lot of other people had it,
too. His present field of operations was located at Dallas International
As a professional pickpocket, Curt insisted that the most effective
method was the "Feigned Reading Technique." This rather simple,
albeit ingenious, move is accomplished by pretending to read something
with one hand (typically a large magazine, to hide the face) while the
other hand (usually concealed by an overcoat) surreptitiously reaches
in a persons pocket or purse. Purses are preferred, because they
arent physically attached to the victim.
Curt had a pretty successful career so far, if you can call it that.
The only trouble he ever ran into took place in Miami International
Airport, where he wasnt the only petty thief. The "mark"
he picked to steal from ended up delivering similar reciprocity. When
he "bumped into" his target, Curt walked away with $50 in
hand and missing over $300 from his back pocket. From then on, he never
took money from Hispanics.
Now entering his ninth year as a pickpocket, he needed new ideas. There
was hardly a method or scheme that Curt hadnt already tried at
least once in his history. To this date, he knew of 313 (often very
clever) ways to rob people blind, many of which he himself created.
But nowadays, he was bored silly-a feeling that he attributed to his
He wanted a partner. Hed gone over a thousand times in his head
what hed do with one. Curt would fake an injury after "accidentally"
falling, hoping to coax an unsuspecting bystander into helping him while
his partner would rummage through the Good Samaritans neglected
belongings. The next long flight (always the best ones, since the passengers
were generally tired) was arriving in one hour. Curt had nothing better
to do until then, so he threw away the remainder of his insipid $3 pretzel
(about a $1.53s worth) and set out on the quest to find one.
As a practitioner of the trade, Curt knew finding a fellow pickpocket
would take a little more effort than simply scouting out crowds of people.
The best (or worst, depending on how you look at it) place to be, then,
was the escalators. Running into another pickpocket would be easy in
such a crowded, chaotic location. All he had to do was set a trap.
He remembered a trick he used once (although forgot what, exactly, for),
where he punctured a flap of his wallet with a partially unfolded paperclip,
created a small hole on the inside of his back pocket, and placed the
wallet-complete with the protruding paperclip-snuggly inside. If a pickpocket
tried to steal his wallet, the paperclip would scratch the skin on his
sensitive ass, telling him that some outside force was moving the wallet.
Thirty minutes of going up and down, up and down, up and down passed
before he felt the tingling sensation down there. He turned around,
grabbed the arm of the thief and shouted, "Ahh-HA! Ive caught
you, you sneaky little . . . girl?"
Curt stood dumbfounded as he tried to make sense of the situation. Here
he was, his hand holding the most beautiful creature hed ever
seen in his life. His apoplectic trance ended as the escalator reached
the bottom, causing him to stumble backwards. He had no choice but to
let go of her arm, allowing her room to get the hell out of there.
"Hey, come back here!"
The young woman, not wanting to be scolded for her actions, did no such
thing. Instead, she thought itd be best to continue running in
the opposite direction. Curt soon regained his balance and sprinted
after her, shouting all the way.
"Somebody stop her, she has my wallet!"
She was a small agile 17-year-old who spent her free time at the gym.
He was an out-of-shape, habitually lethargic 25-year-old. Naturally,
she out ran him.
"Stop! Stop! Somebody stop that thieving little bit-OOMPH!"
Curt wasnt paying attention to where he was going as he ran right
in front of an airport shuttle (those really fast moving electric cars
with the loud drivers). The shuttle weighed much more and traveled much
faster than he, so when the two bodies of mass collided, it was Curt
Kim, seeing her prosecutor down on the ground, figured now would be
an okay time to quit running. All those who previously had their heads
trained on her now refocused their attention to the limp body prostrated
across the floor. A throng soon formed around the unconscious man. Kim
thought she might as well steal a few wallets while they were so distracted.
"My legs no
longer have feeling. That was the longest flight Ive ever been
"Ive been on worse. Once I flew all the way to Japan!"
"Whoa," said Dusting, stopping dead in his tracks, "whats
going on over there?"
"I dunno, looks like someone bit the dust."
"Lets go see, shall we?"
"Im in no hurry," responded Alexis.
The two approached the crowd about the same time as airport security
started to disperse it. They caught one witness by surprise as she was
turning around to leave.
"Whats all the hubbub about?" asked Dustin.
"Um! . . .uhh
" said Kim, nervously, "some guy got
hit by a shuttle cart."
"Dustin! How awful! Is he alright?" inquired the sympathetic
yeah, I think so," said Kim, furtively reaching
into Alexis handbag after seeing a wad of money in there.
Dustin felt the need to offer the two females his thoughts on the poor
victim's situation: "Wow, sucks to be that guy."
Kim tersely concurred and briskly strode away.
"Where to now?" asked Dustin.
"I guess this is where we go our separate ways."
"Yep. Well, maybe Ill see you later in Graff. By the way,
how exactly are you getting there?"
"Im taking a greyhound and-hey! Wheres my money?!"
"My money! I had it right here in my handbag. I had over $300 in
there. Now its gone! What am I going to do?!"
Thank you, God! I really appreciate the favor!
"Oh no! You sure its not somewhere else?"
"No, no, I specifically remember putting it in here, and now its
"Well, I was going to take the bus down there as well. I wouldnt
mind paying your fare."
"No, I cant ask that from you. Ill get Larry to wire
me some money."
"Dont be impractical, thatll take too long. Besides,
Ive got plenty of money to spare."
Way to go with the "mentioning the lots of money" move!
Shes yours now for sure!
"Alright. If you insist. Lead the way."
She loves me. I just know it.
Dustin would have rented a car, but he was not of legal age to do so.
This could be a good thing, because at least he wouldnt be the
one driving for three hours. The $146.23 he spent for bus fare was worth
it for that reason alone.
They boarded the greyhound bus and found that most of the front seats
were vacant. Dustin wedged his suitcase in between two identical carry-ons.
Alexis elected to keep her luggage next to her legs, close and safe.
Dustin situated himself beside Alexis' bags, mildly perturbed by the
wall of black nylon and zippers that separated him and his future love
life. He craned his neck to see over a shoddy gucci-clone hand bag and
smiled at Alexis. "Well, here we go!"
"Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it. Who knows how long
it would've taken if you weren't there."
All the more reason I should be yours!
"So, Dustin, what made you want to go to Cayce University?"
Dustin receded back behind the wall of luggage and half spoke, half
mumbled, "I wanned to getaway frum my mom
Not satisfied with his answer, she poked her head over the bags, "Hey!
Get back up here and talk to me!"
"Im tired. Its been a long day."
"Well, answer my question and then you can sleep."
"The one I just asked you!"
"Well, ask it again."
"Ugh! What made you want to go to Cayce University? You said on
the plane that you couldve gone to any college you wanted to,
but didnt say why you chose Cayce."
well, my mom is way to overprotecting and controlling.
I know she means well, but she can get pretty infuriating sometimes.
Even after I leave to go to college, shell move nearby and try
to control my life. I had to find a place I knew shed never travel
"Graff? Whats so bad about Graff?"
"Nothing, as near as I can tell. All I know is that she promised
to never set foot in the place again, and thats just perfect for
me. Thats where she grew up, you know."
"Oh, well, dont you think your education might suffer? I
mean, Cayce isnt exactly Harvard or Yale."
"Ive thought about it some, and it doesnt really worry
me. I figure since I graduated a year early Ill have plenty of
time to fix things, if Cayce doesnt work out."
"You dont think youre wasting your time?"
"Meh, its an experience. Ive got a good half a century
ahead of me, and Ill never get to do something like this ever
"That can be a good thing. But if I were you, Id go to one
of those fancy schools."
"Look, you dont understand
"I dont? Shes your mother, how bad can it be?"
"Thats what you dont understand. You can never know
her as well as I do. She destroyed my childhood trying to make me into
some sort of genius child. Shell keep on trying to
control my life until she dies, always trying to make me into something
she never was."
"And that is?"
"Thats the problem, I dont know."
The urgent warning of a man in the front row disrupted their conversation.
"LOOK OUT!" The cry suddenly dissolved into a cacophony of
screams as the bus driver swerved to miss a speeding red sports car.
The driver had not seen the red car when it pulled up beside the bus
in an attempt to pass it on the narrow two-lane road. The driver of
the sports car thought he could make it in front of the bus before the
turn in the road came. By the time it reached the turn, it was too late
to back out-another car was just coming around the bend. The driver
floored the accelerator, speeding dangerously in front of the bus. The
bus driver barely slowed down in time to avoid hitting the car, and
ended up swerving off the road.
A shallow two-feet-deep ditch on the periphery of the road was enough
to send the bus tumbling. Passengers flew about the cabin, lifted from
their seats by centrifugal force. Windows shattered, hurling bits and
pieces of razor-sharp glass everywhere. Fecal matter escaped the confines
of the toilet in the back area, causing the surrounding area to smell
The driver of the red sports car did not stick around when the bus finally
came to a rest after smacking into a tree. Dustin and Alexis quickly
scrambled out of a busted window when the bus finally stopped.
"Fuck! Holy Shit! That was fucking intense! Oh God! Are you all
right? Im glad I had my fucking seat belt on. Holy Christ
Alexis, choosing not to punctuate every sentence with profanity, said,
"We better check with the bus driver to see if any other people
The settling twilight made it difficult to distinguish one person from
another, so they had to guess which body outline belonged to the bus
driver. When they drew near a man coming out of an emergency exit, they
saw that he was bleeding from the forehead. He started to chase them
with his shoe and accused them of being "aliens bent on taking
over the planet!"
"Watch out!" said Dustin, overpowering the 65-year-old man
"No! No! I wont let you take this planet!"
Alexis turned to Dustin, "He probably has a slight concussion.
Find something to restrain him with so he doesnt do any more damage
to himself or anyone else. Here," she said, removing a belt from
a busted suitcase, "use this."
After he tied the delirious stranger to a tree, he followed her back
into the overturned bus.
"Is everyone all right?" she had to ask, as the nighttime
sky provided little light for her to see with properly.
"Ahhh," a distant voice in the back moaned, "I think
my leg is broken!" An audible 'crack' was heard as he tried it.
"AHHHHH! . . . .yep, definitely broken
"Alright," advised Alexis, "stay there. Dustin, see if
anyone has a cell phone."
In all, there were 13 passengers. Three of them had cell phones and
out of those three, only one was covered in that particular area. The
owner of the phone, unfortunately, had left it unplugged and turned
on all last night, so it was about as helpful as a small rock.
Not finding a working cell phone, Dustin postulated the next best thing
to do: flag down a car. Eight vehicles passed the wreckage before one
The dilapidated trucks right window receded into the door, revealing
a middle-age man with a face that couldnt charm even the lowliest
of goats. "Holy moly, mister, is anyone hurt?"
Dustin took a moment to reflect on the strangers physical impurities,
then responded, "Just a few broken bones and bruises, nothing life-threatening.
Listen, do you have a cell phone on you?"
"Yessir, I sure do!"
"Call 9-1-1, tell em that theres been a bad accident
on . . . what road are we on?"
God, youre ugly!
"All right, well, you call the police, Im gonna go see if
I can flag down some more help."
Back in the bus, Alexis was busy trying to pacify a petulant passenger
that had a compound fracture in his upper arm.
"Dont move it, or youll hur-"
"AHHHHHH!!! Watch it, you bitch!"
"Fine," she snapped, "deal with it yourself! I was only
trying to help."
"Alexis!" shouted Dustin from outside the bus.
"I got a guy with a cell phone, hes calling 9-1-1. Wait
hes telling me that the lady on the phone says we should try to
avoid moving anyone, even if they say theyre not hurt."
"But what about us?"
"I guess were fine."
"Well, Im going to sit down until the authorities get here."
Absquatulate - to depart in a hurry; abscond
"Holy shit, Harry, youre crazy!"
"What can I say?" retorted Harry, "I love to speeeed!"
"You almost got us killed back there!"
"Quit bein such a fucking pussy, Ralph. I knew that it wasnt
gonna hit us."
"But I saw thuh bus flip over! I done saw it! Somebody mighta gotten
"Better them than us," said Harry, shifting the car into its
sixth and final gear. "sides, they were goin too slow."
"Whats the big hurry?" Ralph asked as the needle in
the speedometer jumped toward 130.
for pickpockets might have been ingeniously designed; it was, nevertheless,
anything but well thought out. He didnt think to remove the contents
of his wallet beforehand. After all, he was going to catch the thief,
Not that losing $500 was a big deal to Curt. In just thirty minutes
following the run-in with the girl and the airport shuttle, he was able
to steal it all back-and then some. After doing so, he intended to either
beat that girl senseless, or convince her to join forces.
He just had to find her first. And in an airport as large as the one
in Dallas, finding a specific 17-year-old female with wavy blonde hair
and a nice figure is about as easy as operating a screwdriver with your
feet. The only distinguishing feature about her that Curt could remember
was her brilliant green eyes. They shone with such radiance; he figured
he could easily spot them in a throng of people.
That is, if she was still in the airport. After being responsible for
what took place earlier, a rational person might not want to hang around.
He decided to take his chances and look for her anyway. Its not
like he had anything better to do.
If Curt had remembered what happened the last time he had "nothing
better to do," he might have prevented what happened next.
He eventually found the girl. She was stalking a couple and was just
about to strike when he walked up from behind her and said, "You
have something of mine."
She turned around, recognized his face, panicked and kneed him hard
in the groin.
The ensuing pain was so intense; Curt could hardly scream anything at
"Help! Help! Hes trying to rape me!" shouted the crafty
"What?!" mouthed Curt, thinking, "That BITCH!"
Two armed guards tentatively made their way over to them. "Sir,
step away from the girl," said the largest of the pair, coolly.
Curt struggled to respond coherently, still groping his damaged manhood.
"I said step away from the girl!" this time forcibly.
"Cuff him, Murphy," commanded the large one.
Murphy approached the still-hunching Curt and handcuffed his hands behind
his back, effectively preventing him from conciliating his now-swelling
"Now, lets all have us a talk," said the large man.
"You too, missy," he said, nodding towards Kim.
Murphy led Curt and Kim into a backroom then promptly closed the door.
"Alright, he said, what the hell is going on?"
"What happened to the other guy?"
"The fuck you care? Answer my question."
"She stole my wallet," Curt said, motioning toward the now-grinning
Kim. "Just check her coat."
"Dont tell me what to do, shit-fer-brains."
"Its the other way around, Officer," said Kim. "He
stole my wallet."
"I thought you said he was trying to rape you?"
Without missing a beat and with composed confidence, she answered, "That
was just to get your attention. Regardless, check his coat and youll
find my wallet in there."
Curt couldnt resist chuckling at what she said, because he knew
it was absurd. He did not know, however, that on the way to the room,
she had slipped her wallet inside his right coat pocket.
"Mind if I take a peek?"
"Not at all, Officer."
"What have we here?" asked Officer Murphy sardonically, pulling
out a small butterfly-laced tri-fold wallet. "Is your name Kim,
"What the bloody hell! Thats not mine!"
"Youve got that right!" remarked Kim.
"No! I mean I didnt take her wallet!"
"The evidence says otherwise."
"Thank you, Officer," said Kim. "May I have my wallet
back and leave now?"
"Just a second
For the first time in the talk, Kim started to look nervous. "Yes?"
she asked, sheepishly.
Curt, being the resourceful thief he was, had already begun to pick
the lock on his handcuffs with a spare hairpin he always stored in his
back left pocket.
"Id like to search your coat first. Then you can go."
" she said, shifting her eyes back and forth between
her alleged assailant and the skeptical security guard.
He reached into one of her pockets and pulled out three billfolds and
a wad of cash (the same cash which had previously belonged to Alexis).
"I take it these are all yours?"
Now sweating, she hysterically glanced about the room, trying to think
of a way out of her current situation (something that, up until now,
she had been quite good at). Her glowing green eyes connected with Curts,
and it was at that moment she saw that hed freed himself from
the confines of the handcuffs. He nodded at her, and then motioned his
eyes toward the guards nightstick.
Before Murphy could utter "Well?" in response to Kims
silence, Curt shot up, snatched the nightstick and delivered a pinpointed
blow to the temple, knocking Murphy out cold. He pointed the stick at
Kim and said, "I need to talk to you."
"We dont have time," she rejoined while retrieving the
wad of cash from the guards lifeless hand.
"I know, lets get out of here."
Hearing the conflict from outside the door, the larger officer entered
the room just as Curt opened the door. All he could manage to say was
"What the-" before Curts club came crashing down over
Like almost everything before, things did not go as Curt planned. Hitting
the large man with the nightstick was about as destructive as shooting
a mountain with a pellet gun.
It was Kim who moved in for the kill. She sent several "signature
kicks" to the poor mans family jewels. Curt winced as the
guard went tumbling down.
He kicked the man in the face for good measure, threw the nightstick
away, then turned to Kim and said, "Alright, now lets get
out of here."
"Do you have a car?"
"Youre coming with me? I dont even know your name!"
"Curt. Now lets get going, before Godzilla wakes up on us."
"Alright, follow me."
They both raced out of the room and down the corridor, only to run into
a phalanx of off-duty security guards sitting around a table.
"Hey," demanded one of them, "what are you doing down
"Go back," yelled Curt.
"Yeah," agreed Kim.
The two of them about-faced and ran in the opposite direction as before.
They passed the large security guard as he was struggling to balance
"Stop them!" he shouted, and the other security guards all
jumped up from their break and proceed to pursue the two fugitives.
A half-minute later they came to a T-intersection in the hallway.
"Crap! What do we do?"
"Go right," said Kim.
They had plenty of time to decide. The guards, not used to this kind
of physical requirement on their part, were far behind. Kim eventually
conceded and they both turned left. She was just as surprised as he
when they found out his judgment was correct.
"Look," she said, "theres the parking garage. My
cars on the fourth level."
"Is it really your car?"
not really, but I have some stuff in it and-"
"Theres no time. I assume you know how to hotwire?"
"Wait, no need to. Ive got an idea
He advanced to a limo driver holding a "Stevens" sign and
said, "Yes, were the STEVENS."
"May I see some ID?" asked the driver.
"You certainly may," said Curt, pulling out the wallet with
the real Mr. Stevens license in it. Kim was impressed by his craftiness.
She wouldve never thought of it. It pays to be an experienced
"Alright, Mr. Stevens, come right this way. Im Earl, Ill
be your driver for the evening."
"Hiya Earl," Curt said, putting on a convincing façade.
"Think we can hurry it up a bit? Our flight was a little late,
and were supposed to be there by 8:00."
Curt turned to Kim to give her a thumbs-up signal when Earl stopped
and asked, "Hey, wheres your luggage?"
" Curt blurted, trying to think of an excuse. "We
"It got placed on the wrong flight. The airport personnel said
itd arrive tomorrow," interrupted Kim.
"Oh, sorry to hear that sir.. Well, heres your limo. Hop
Curt and Kim both sighed in relief when they saw that the windows were
tinted. They climbed in the car together, knowing they had successfully
eluded airport security. Now they could take on the world!
Formication - sensation like ants crawling on the skin
They were still roughly an hour from Graff at the time of the accident.
Most of the passengers had closer destinations and/or relatives from
which to get lifts. Dustin and Alexis fared no such luck.
Most other businesses were closed at that hour, so they couldnt
go anywhere else but the Motel 6 glowing amiably about fifty meters
"Well," said the man behind the counter, "we only gots
one room thats clean. Mary here clogged the plumbing witha
say it was, Mary? Aww, dont matter what it was. Point is, whatever
it was caused them there toilets to overflow in mosta the rooms. Only
the one in the waaaaaay back is fresh. And thats because it dont
got no plumbin! If ya want, I could hook you guys up with
a bucket to shit in
if you needs to."
" explained Alexis, "we
should be fine for the night."
"Alrighty, then. Totalll be $53.95 for the two of yous."
They should be paying me to sleep in this place!
"Here ya go," said Dustin as he counted out the bills
one by one. "Um, just a question, but how many beds are there?"
"Well, thats a relief," said Alexis, giggling.
As they strolled listlessly past seven of the understandably vacant
rooms, the malodorous stench of backwash attacked their senses, convincing
them to pick up the pace a little.
The faded outline of "Janitors Closet" could still be
seen on the door. The pathetic attempt at covering the persevering silhouette
(masking tape and notebook paper) had disappeared in the wind long ago.
"Thats not very charming," remarked Dustin.
"After you," Alexis jokingly gestured.
He opened the door and almost choked on the aroused must. "Eck,
this is terrible!"
"Yeah, well, turn on the lights, I cant wait to see what
place looks like."
The lighting in the room consisted of an old-fashioned over-head light
and a cheap $3 lamp on the beside-table. To put it lightly, the moon
was more luminous. When Dustin pulled the string on the dangling ceiling
light, the entire contraption came crashing down on his head.
"Oh my God! Are you okay?"
"Im fine, just a little tense. Say, did you happen to catch
that mans nametag at the front desk? I think it said Norman
"Haha, very funny."
"Hey, turn on that light over there, will ya? Oooh, I get
the right bed!" He ran and jumped to his bed. Alexis switched on
the lamp just in time to see the entire structure collapse from underneath
"Goodness!" she shouted, "Are you okay? Still
"Uhh," murmured the dazed and confused Dustin, "I think
I broke my bed."
"My God, youre bleeding!"
"You cut your arm. Here, let me fetch some bandages from the bathroom."
Dustins stupor ended when he heard a bloodcurdling scream emerge
from the "bathroom."
"Dustin! Come quick! Theres a huge fucking rat in the closet!"
"Huh?" grunted Dustin as he clambered out of the former bed.
Alexis use of profanity--despite it being as forced as the laughter
from a studio audience--did indeed sound urgent."Where is it?"
"There," she pointed, "Right there!"
"Oh, Jesus! That mothers huge!"
"Kill it! Kill it!"
"I dont care! Squash it, step on it, beat it with a stick,
just make it go away!"
"Well, Im not touching it, you can-"
"Ahh, its moving! Catch it!"
"Hand me that broom."
When Alexis grabbed the brooms rotten wooden handle, it crumbled
in her hands. "Ewwww! There are termites in the broom!" As
she said this, a few of them decided to crawl over her arm. The sudden
sensation caused by the insects tiny little feet on her skin sent
Alexis flailing wildly about the room.
"Get em off me, get it off me! Dustin!!!"
"Not now, I got the rat cornered. Hand me something to hit it with."
"Here," she said blunderingly handing Dustin his pitiful excuse
for a suitcase, "use this."
He threw it. Missed.
"Give me something else! Never mind," he said as he yanked
the lamp away from the bedside table, "I found something."
Only when his hand let go of the bedside light did he realize what he
had done. "Shit," he said, right as the bulb popped. The rat,
of course, escaped through the walls unharmed and only slightly peeved.
After Alexis scrapped the last of the termites from her arm, she turned
to Dustin, riled by their attempt to devour her flesh, "To hell
with this, Im calling Larry."
"Alexis, its half-past 12:00. Do you think Larrys really
going to appreciate your calling him in the middle of the night?"
I guess not
"Look, that rats gone. Lets go to sleep and in a few
hours we can go rent a car and-"
"Oh my God!"
"What? What is it?"
"Ohmagod ohmagod ohmagod!!!"
"I havent called Larry since I arrived at the airport this
morning. He has no idea where I am!"
"Hmm, that is a problem
"I need to get to a phone. You have to get me to a phone!"
Think of something, you fool. Shes getting away!
"Alright, they might have a phone at the front desk."
No! Thats not what youre supposed to say. Idiot!
"No, youre right
Larry wont appreciate being
called so late. Ill call him first thing in the morning."
You are the MAN!
After a brief silence, Dustin timidly asked, "So
are the sleeping arrangements now?"
"I think you know," she said, winking.
Well, cowboy, I guess its your lucky day!
"Here," she pointed at the busted bed, "you can move
the mattress on the floor right here."
but I thought youd-"
"What? You didnt actually think you were gonna sleep in this
bed, did you?"
"No! No! Of course not!"
thats a shame
He wouldve prepared the makeshift bed much sooner had he not hurled
the only remaining source of light at the wall. He also wouldve
seen Alexis change into her nightgown a lot more clearly, had it not
been for his premature reaction.
Dustin almost fell asleep when he heard a tired, hesitant voice call
out his name: "Dustin?"
"For helping me get through all this."
"Oh. Youre welcome."
Whatever trouble he had during the day, the dreams Dustin had that night
more than made up for it. It was a very good night indeed.
"Well, what is it?"
"Its a bomb, retard."
Ralph didnt take too kindly at being addressed as "retard,"
but he said nothing. He didnt want to piss off his new boss so soon.
"What kind of bomb?"
"Christ, havent you been listening to a word I said?"
Ralph gulped nervously and retracted his round, undersized head like that
of a turtle. He knew that if he didnt "stop being a dumbass,
cocksucking smuck," he wouldnt get his money.
"Look, remember how I told you about the nuclear"--nukular--"waste
dumping I got going on my land from the government? The moneys fine
and all, but I plan to dig up the waste and make my own bomb with it!
I searched the internet and learned how to do it, I just need somebody
to help me get the stuff. I already put all the other stuff together."
"But aint dat stuff dangerous?"
"Of course not," Harry lied. "Not with these suits I bought
from the army surplus store."
"But how we gonna git to the stuff? Dont they bury it in them
"Ralph, stop being a dumbass, cocksucking smuck. Didnt I tell
you Ive got it worked out? The government official told me that
they bury the shit at night. Why, I do not know, but thats not important.
The point is, youre going to sneak up when theyre burying
the stuff and take just a barrel or two."
"What? No! I said we, didnt I?"
"Course I did! We're a team, remember?" Harry feigned frienship
by patting Ralph aggressively on the back.
"Good! Ill work on the plan in detail tomorrow morning while
youre out getting some more beer. Until then, I need you to sign
this little contract here saying youre fully aware what were
doing in case we gets caught. Nothing important, I just dont want
you squealing on me in court."
Ralph snatched the flimsy stationery from Harrys menacingly waving
hand, flattened it on the workshop bench, and signed:
Anorchous - lacking testicles
Curt knew someone was bound to eventually report his or her "stolen
limousine." He discussed the situation with Kim and together they
quickly thought of a plan. They silently rehearsed it twice before actually
"Yes, Mr. Stevens?"
"My wife needs to make a pit stop. Could you pull over at the nearest
"No need to, Mr. Stevens. This is a state-of-the-art limo."
Earl followed his statement by pressing a button on the dashboard, sending
a compact, metal toilet pan sliding out of Kims seat.
"Uh," she protested, "Im not going in that."
"No problem, Mrs. Stevens! Not many people choose to use the Kar
Seat so youre not alone. Here, theres a pretty
nice lookin gas station up ahead. Im sure theyll have
"Thanks," they mutually replied.
Earl pulled up past three readily available parking places and into the
stations only handicapped spot. "Its only going to be
for a second," he reasoned.
"Earl, Im going to go get a few snacks while shes in
the john. Ill be right back."
"Better hurry, then, Mr. Stevens. Its almost 8:00!"
"Theyll wait for us," assured Curt.
Kim rendezvoused with Curt as he entered the "Stop n
Go" variant (affectionately christened "Shit n Git"
by a gang of 12-year-old badasses). "All right," she asked,
"Well, first off, Id like to clarify what happened in the airport
"Listen, I can explain-"
The sound of the subsequent bell after a man named Jim entered the store
was followed by his vociferous announcement: "Nobody move, this is
Six pairs of hands immediately shot up into the air-including Curts
"I said dont move, God dammit!" For some inexplicable
reason, Jim felt the need to unload half of the clip in his MAC-10 into
a nearby video poker machine. "Next person to move gets that,"
he yelled, pointing his gun towards the porous pile of bullet-riddled
The hands tentatively made their way back to their former positions; their
owners more confused than ever.
"Curt," whispered Kim, hands once again by her sides, "Do
"I dunno, anything!"
"Shh! Keep quiet!"
While Jim was forcing the clerk to "hand over the all the cash"
(which, unfortunate for him, amounted in the aggregate to a little over
$23), Curt explored the aisle for anything of use in subduing the degenerate.
He ended up settling on a tin can of God-knows-what soup.
Jim turned around just in time to see a fast-approaching metal cylinder
make its way towards his forehead. Mere microseconds after it made contact
with the upper portion of his forehead he yelped something that resembled
"fuck," dropped his gun and stumbled backwards into the counter.
His back slid down the counter until his body came to rest L-shaped on
the floor. Kim saw that his legs were wide open and once again went in
for the kill. Curt, seeing this wanton display of malice, shuddered empathetically
Jim, like the large man at the airport, did not struggle much afterwards.
"Grab his gun," Kim said.
"Way ahead of you," Curt pointed out as he unloaded the clip.
"Hey Jackass, Ive got news for you: youre going to jail."
The would-be-robber moaned a sigh of grief and then promptly passed out
from the overwhelming pain in his lower region. When hed wake up
the next day, "they" would be so swelled to the point that hed
wish he never had any.
"Curt, we gotta get out of here!"
"We never can stay out of trouble, can we?"
"I mean now!"
"Alright, alright, Im coming."
They ran out of the store as fast as humanly possible. Earl, having had
a front row viewing of the incident from the seat of the limousine, was
tucked snugly under the dashboard, so he failed to see his "passengers"
flee from the scene of someone elses crime.
Curt easily spotted Jims getaway car: it was the red mustang with
no rear bumper that still had its engine running. The owner of the vehicle
wont need it anymore, he explained to Kim.
"Where to?" she asked.
"Is there such a place?"
He peeled out of the station and onto the feeder-just as the police arrived.
Curt didnt want to stick around afterwards; he figured somebody
had already phoned in about the vicious beatings earlier at the airport.
Five minutes passed before either of the two spoke. Then, Curt: "Now
we can talk."
"Listen, the reason I approached you wasnt because you stole
my wallet. Well, actually, it was, but its not what you think. I
set a trap for pickpockets, because I wanted one as my partner."
"Yeah, you know, two people helping each other out in accomplishing
a given job."
"What kind of job?"
"Pickpocketing, of course!"
Kim sat dumbfounded for a moment. Finally, she broke her silence with,
"Pickpocketing? Youre a pickpocket too? And you want me to
be your partner?"
"Let me get this straight: you went through all this trouble just
to get a little help with petty thievery?!"
"Look, I didnt intend it to be this way. Things got fucked
"You can say that again!"
"Are you going to help me or not?"
"How can I refuse such an opportunity!" She paused to let the
sarcasm fall in place. "Christ! Are you even listening to a word
"I take that as a no?"
"Not at all! At least, not yet. Lets hear what you have in
Curt, now pleased with the sudden change in direction the situation had
taken, began to explain how his "Fall n Stall" (a
name which he came up with himself) plan would work.
"You know," said Kim after Curt finished informing her of his
scheme. "Thats actually a pretty damn good plan. I think Ive
seen it done before, though."
"Dont matter to me, Ive never tried it. Thats whats
"Alright, but where are we going to try it out?"
"I try to stick to airports. Thats where you make the most
money. Believe me, Ive been doing this for nine years."
"Nine years? Youre kidding me. Pickpocketing? You cant
be much younger than 25, and here you are telling me youve been
pickpocketing for almost nine years? Dont you have a future? Any
"I try not to think about it
"Well, you cant pickpocket all your life, can you?"
"It shouldnt last much longer, anyway. The way I figure it,
I shoulda had my midlife crisis a few years ago."
"Thats terrible, surely youre good at something instead
of just pickpocketing?"
"Promise not to laugh?"
"Bowling. Ive always wanted to be a professional bowler."
"I wont laugh I wont laugh I wont laugh
"Alright, go ahead and laugh."
"Is it that ridiculous?"
"Im sorry, but I just cant picture you as a bowler. I
mean, when I think of a bowler, I think of some fat, balding guy name
Tony with a toothpick in his mouth."
"Whyd you have to say that?"
"My dad was a fat bowler
and he had a bad comb-over
his name was Tony."
"Oh my! Did he have the toothpick as well
"Wow, I was really close!"
"Yep, Tony T. Tersely, world-class bowler from age 3 to 39."
"Retired?" She was kind enough not to giggle at the last name.
"Nope, heart attack. He was one strike away from getting a perfect
300. The ball wasnt even halfway down the lane when he keeled over
dead cause his heart had one too many cheeseburgers. He didnt
even get to see that one last pin wobble like crazy yet still not fall."
"Let me guess, you want to bowl a perfect game in honor of him?"
"Heck no! Im doing it for me! To show him that Im better
than he ever was."
"By knocking down ten little white pins ten times in a row?"
"13 times to get a 300, you have to bowl 13 strikes."
"Thanks for the lesson, Ill keep that in mind."
"Lets change the subject, shall we?" pleaded Curt.
"Good idea," said Kim. "So, where to now?"
"Wheres the nearest major airport?"
"Its not that close, but Id like to make a stop on the
way there. Lets go to Austin."
"As long as I dont have to drive all the way. Whats the
"I wanna visit my Grandfathers old ranch in Graff. I havent
been there since I was six."
"I see no harm in that."
If you dont move, it will go away. If you dont move, it will
go away. If you dont move
Dustin had no idea how long the rat had been laying on his chest. He didnt
really care much to think about it. His mind was focused on a more pertinent
subject at the moment; namely, how the heck he was going to get the monstrous
rodent off him.
" he whimpered.
Alexis rolled over in her bed, stretched her arms and legs, brushed her
long, silky hair out of her eyes and yawned a response, "yeeesss?"
"Alexis," still barely audible, "theres
Immediately she sprang into action. "Again? Where? Kill it!"
"Shhh! Shh!" he tried hard to suppress his volume-he didnt
want the fluctuations of air in his lungs to stir the rat awake. "Be
She grabbed the largest of her three pillows and, with a scream that could
shame Tarzan, swung with all her might. Had she not screamed, she wouldnt
have woken the not-so-small rodent. Had she not woken the rat, it wouldnt
have bitten Dustin on his inner thigh. Had it not bitten Dustin, his and
Alexis destination wouldnt have been sidetracked with a visit
to the hospital.
"AHHHH! That sonofabitch bit me! Holy shit! It might be rabid! Did
you see the foam from his mouth?! Oh God!"
"Oh my God, Im so sorry!"
"Call the front desk, tell em to send an ambulance immediately!"
"How bad is it?"
"Its bleeding. Oh God, he broke the skin. The virus could get
through. Oh my God!"
"Theres no phone in the room. Ill be right back."
In three minutes she returned with the same man whod assigned them
their room last night.
"Now lemme get this straight: you was bit by a mouse?"
"It was a huge fucking rat, and it has rabies! Oh God, this fucking
"Now calm down, whered it bit you?"
"Right here," he said, pointing to the microscopic puncture
marks in his left thigh.
"Shucks, that aint nuthin. Would you like a band-aide?
Youre lucky that sucker didnt go fer yer pecker." The
balding man with bad teeth couldnt help but snicker at the poor
"Whatre you laughing at? This is serious! I need a rabies vaccine
"Oh hush up, youll be fine. Rabies virus only travels three
inches a day, and youve just been bit in the leg. No need to hurry."
Now how the hell can a retard like him know that?
"Well," interjected Alexis, "could you at least point us
in the direction of the nearest hospital?"
"You two on the bus headed fer Graff, right? The one that flipped
"Uh-huh," uttered Dustin.
"Well, then I spose youd wanna go in that direction,
"Then the nearest spital is gonna be Cayce School of Medicine,
if ya dont mind bein treated by students."
"Shouldnt be a problem," remarked Alexis. "Besides,
I bet its probably free."
"I guess you guysll need a rental car to get there, too?"
"Is there a place nearby where we can get one?" inquired Dustin.
in fact, its only two blocks away from the
med school. Tell you what, since yall the only customers weve
had in days, and since yer boyfriend here got bit by a rat while on our
premises, I guess I could go ahead and drive yall down there myself."
"Thanks, but hes not my boyfriend."
Aww, whyd she have to say that?
"Suit yerself. Go gather up all yer stuff while I pull the car round."
After the man left, Alexis turned to Dustin and said, "Close your
eyes. Ive gotta change out of my pajamas."
Did she just say "pajamas"?
"Relax, I wasnt gonna look." A blatant lie. He turned
around to pick up his few possessions that were offensively strewn about
the room as if he were already in his dorm. While bending over to retrieve
a dirty sock, he saw the outline of her perky teenage breasts cast upon
the wall by the rooms only window.
"Okay, its safe to turn around now."
When he did, hed apparently forgotten that he was sporting only
boxers. She looked down at them for a moment, saw his perpendicularity,
blushed lightly and asked, "Just what were you thinking about?"
"What are you-" Dustin noticed where she was staring and then
saw his ol eager self down there. "-Oh God! Im. . . uhh
sorry. No! Uhh
Jesus, where are my pants?" His countenance now
flushed scarlet, Dustin blindly ran about the room in desperate search
for his jeans.
In medical terms, what happened is known as "vasodilatation of the
penile veins in response to sexual stimulus." In laymans terms,
its called "getting an boner." To Dustin, however, its
recognized only as "complete, utter humiliation."
The worst part about the incident to Alexis, though, was the ceaseless
apologies that followed: "Im sorry Im sorry Im
sorry Im so sorry!"
She had to scream to get his attention. "Dustin! Snap out of it!"
"I dont know what came over me, I swear!"
"Of course you do! Its okay, though, youre only male."
Dustin really wished she hadnt winked when she finished that last
part. Now he was more confused than ever.
The amusingly uncomfortable situation was interrupted by urgent honking
from outside. They finished getting dressed and made a last-minute sweep
of the room for any items they might have missed.
When they came outside, they were greeted by an atrociously loud station
wagon with only three doors. The missing rear-left portion of the car
was maladroitly mended with duct tape and ply wood. Its painfully raucous
noise level came from the fact that the car lacked a working muffler.
Id rather walk.
"Hope on in!"
Hesitantly, they entered the car by the two functioning doors on the right
side. Once inside the deathtrap, the decibel level seemed to drop only
"So, whatre yalls names?" The man had to shout
to be heard over the racket. "Im Devin."
*To be continued
Cody Venk June 2003
Chapters One and Two are revised version of a former offering.
If you like what Cody is doing then email him.
all rights reserved
No reproduction of this work in any form is permitted without reference
to the author and Hackwriters.com.