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Improvident and forlorn, despised and depressed, debauched and debunked, misplaced and dispossessed, the horny little band of settlers drove their wagons west and further west, their caravan meandering across the endless prairie and over sky-high mountains, and then when that ended, and they finally arrived in California, they pulled off their grimy clothes and had sex, the men pushing their erect penises into the women’s vaginas, and then, when that was done, pulling them out again and repeating.
Dave blew the last of his food stamps on a Dixie cup full of methadone spit up by some toothless junkie in the program. The best stuff was when somebody stole a bottle from the clinic, but that was rare, and he was used to just getting high off backwash. He swirled the sweet orange syrup under his tongue and let it soak in. Well, that’d buy him another twelve hours at least.
He made his way to the bus station to try to bum a cigarette, but nobody would give ‘em up. They were too expensive these days, he guessed. He found a half smoked butt on the floor and lit up. Menthol. Fucking gross. He threw it out and wandered toward the vending machine to see if Steve was there. He wasn’t but the old drunk with the weight lifting belt was working away at the vending machine. His eyes were puffy and it looked like he might cry.
“What’s wrong?” Dave asked.
“Ate my quarter.” The drunk with the weight lifting belt didn’t turn to look at him.
Dave saw that a bag of Andy Capp’s Fries was hanging from the clip on D-4. He started to feel a little woozy from the methadone. For a second he thought he might barf, but he fought it off. The drunk with the weight lifting belt shook the machine, but the bag didn’t drop. He started pounding on it but it still didn’t drop.
Dave sat down on the floor and waited. He wondered how to kill the next twelve hours.
My friend Frankie knows this guy who has a go cart. I’m going to probably kill him and take his go cart. Did you ever kill anybody? I killed tons of kids when I lived in Cincinnati. It was pretty cool. His stepsister has boobs already, so I’ll probably fool around with her too. Maybe drive over to her house in my go cart. Also, I’m getting walkie talkies for Chanukah. I’m not going to let anybody use them, though. They’re just for me. Both of them. Do you ever feel like maybe people don’t like you? I don’t. I guess you’re just a pussy.
The anatomy student, Chertov, held up the text book and examined the peasant girl’s heavy breasts. Her large molasses colored nipples pointed downward and outward. He tucked the text book under his arm and then lifted one of the breasts in his hand, rotating it so that it corresponded more closely to the diagram in his book. He let go and it sank back down into its former state.
He opened his book again and made some notes in the margin.
“Are we almost done?” the girl asked timidly. She blushed deeply and cast her eyes down. Chertov’s flat was unheated. The peasant girl’s lips were blue and she shivered violently.
“Hardly,” said Chertov. “We haven’t even compared your coochie coo yet!”
“Animal, vegetable or mineral?”
“Is it Kryptonite?”
“You’re so obvious.”
“Animal, vegetable or mineral?”
“Is it dill weed?”
Date Written: March 18, 2005Comments:
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 4.83333
03/24/2005 qualcomm (5): thanks for the largesse, friend.
03/24/2005 Will Disney (5): five shorts in one! holy crap!
03/24/2005 qualcomm: 5, 3, 5, 4, 4
actually, you owe me a star.
03/24/2005 anonymous: Yeah, but you forgot to factor in the synergy.
03/24/2005 Partytime (5): I really dig the multi-angle look into one author. So 54443 +1 for the concept.
03/24/2005 TheBuyer (5): More authors should post multiples or 'Mults', as they shall now be known.
03/24/2005 qualcomm: screw that.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Concept? I'm not sure why these are together. What am I missing?
03/24/2005 Klause Muppet (5): Fuck'n Eh, Bro!
03/24/2005 anonymous: No reason. They're just selected shorts.
03/24/2005 Jimson S. Sorghum (5):
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Okay.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony (4): (5, 4, 5, 4, 3.5)
03/24/2005 anonymous: I saw your four coming a mile away, pony.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Would you have told me how surprised you were if I had given it a five?
03/24/2005 anonymous: No, I probably would have mumbled to myself, "huh, just goes to show you never can tell."
03/24/2005 Jimson S. Sorghum: It would have been a 5+ for me if it'd been under 500 words. Boy you really screwed yourself, author.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Had I overheard you I would have agreed with you, Author.
03/24/2005 anonymous: Except that you couldn't have overheard me, because I didn't say it, because I was not incorrect in my prediction. Otherwise, yeah, you would have agreed, though, and that's a great point you make about that.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: I suppose you deserve some credit for accurately predicting my behavior, then. How about it, folks?
03/24/2005 anonymous: Whoah, easy, Pony. Yikes, dude!
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Snow?
03/24/2005 anonymous: Hey, settle down there! I was just sayin' is all. No need to get hot under the collar.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Okay.
03/24/2005 Litcube (5): 4, 5, 5+, 4, 4.
03/24/2005 Earl: You're a bunch of sick fucks here, amigos. Any one of you perverts gets near my kids, we're going to fist city.
03/24/2005 TheBuyer: I love your Duke.
03/24/2005 Earl: Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean?
03/24/2005 TheBuyer: The Duke. Duke! DUKE!
why are you forcing me to do this, I don't want to go to fist city, PLEASE!
03/24/2005 Earl: Listen partner, why don't you just back off before I shove this pool cue up your ass and break it off for you?
03/24/2005 Ewan Snow: Ha!
03/24/2005 Earl: That goes for you too, beatnik.
03/24/2005 Ewan Snow: Scoop? Is that you? Or is it qualcomm? Also, if we're going to Fist City, can we at least stop on the way for a knuckle sandwich?
03/24/2005 TheBuyer: We'll take my car, Earl drives stick.
03/24/2005 Turgid (5): Nice work.
03/24/2005 Jon Matza (5): I came out with almost the exact same figures as Partytime--5,4,4,4.5,3. So 20.5 by 5 = 4.1. But I am adding +.5 for magnanimity/generosity of spirit.
03/24/2005 Mr. Pony: Boy, I wish I'd thought to do that.
03/24/2005 anonymous: Well, live and learn, Pony.
03/24/2005 Jimson S. Sorghum: Matza, you and partytime are way off base on that last one. It's gold, I tell you.
03/24/2005 Phony Millions (5): I chose to rate the thing as a whole. Then it becomes a stream-of-consciousness kind of thing that's really appealing, with traces of each short lingering goofily in your memory as you begin the next one. Great work, weirdo! My favorite detail: the weight lifting belt of the drunk.
03/24/2005 Jon Matza: I agree that gold is nice, Jimson. But nice doesn't put any parsnips on the table.
03/29/2005 John Slocum (4): 3/3/100/4/4 - 4 overall impression. Boy, that middle one was good.
02/23/2011 Dick Vomit: This is mint.