Just a God-Damn Job!
Mar. 30th, 2006 02:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonPt.2A friend in need is a friend indeed
We pull out of the parking lot and turn onto Hood Avenue. Rasheed just looks me over and sniffs the air. Satisfied that I no longer smell like Gibbon pee he rolls up his window and turns on the AC.
"Feel better?" He asks with absolutely no concern in his voice.
"Yeah man, thanks..."
"Good, maybe that'll cut your bitching down to a constant monologue."
"Fuck you."
"Anytime."
We drive in relative silence. If you don't count the old school Wu-Tang Rasheed's blasting off the stereo. All these expensive ass speakers and digital surround sound systems and I can still hear the bastard singing along off key ~'I'll give-it-to-ya-with-no-trivia-i'm-hardcore-like-cocaine-from-Boliva!'~ I swear to god i'm in a $50 grand sportscar and you mean to tell me this asshole has only got but one CD! Yep, you can add one more condiment on the shit sandwich my days become.
But I don't blame Rasheed. I really don't. If it's anyones fault it's Adam. Adam-fuckin'-Last aka 'The Magical Mystery Bore'! Y'see here's the thing. I didn't ask for any of this shit. It all started 'cause Skinhead Ronnie owed Rasheed a few large for a deal that fell through. Rasheed figured he'd settle up with Ronnie by getting some labor out of him; a little muscle for what was shaping up to be a pretty busy Friday night. Thing is Ronnie's got his kid this weekend and even if he could get out of it, he wouldn't. So Ronnie called in Adam. Turns out Adam's in some sort of serious shit and he's got Ronnie on the 911 speed dial to help get him out of it. What kind of shit you might ask?
'Magick Shit Brian. The less you know about it the better'. He tells me like he's Doctor Fuckin' Strange all of a sudden. This is last night and I just got off my shift working the door at Jenny's. I walk over to my car and there the fucker is, waiting all non-chalant and what not for me to give his ass a ride home like I got nothing better to do.
'Well that's great, Adam. But what's that got to do with me?' I ask him as he lets himself in the passenger seat... the prick.
'Are you aware of the law of physics that dictates that 'Shit rolls down hill'?'
'Uh-huh!' I say knowing full well what's coming.
'Well, Brian, lets just say 'Magick Shit' rolls down hill a lot faster and a lot harder. Call it Karma if you will...'
'I'll call it bullshit is what i'll do....'
'What did you call it when you came banging on my door in the middle of the night last year?'
'C'mon man. I thought we were even on that shit...'
'Three in the god damn morning you show up. Made me kick that stripper out of my bed, y'know...the one I spent the better part of three hours wasting coke and cash on and why?'
'Alright, alright you made your ...'
'No..no.. you wanted to go there. So let's go. Now I asked you 'why' so lets think about this a second, Hmmm? Oh yeah, I remember now, it was because someone was dumb enough to let a lousy piece of Trailer Succubi go down on you without protection...'
'That's not fair...' And it well fucking wasn't. I don't know half the shit this fool be talking about sometimes. 'Succubi' for me was some shit out of a D&D manual I outgrew 15 years ago. '...she looked...well she looked like...'
'She looked like your ex-wife did when you first met her twenty pounds and five years ago. That should've been your first fuckin' clue...so you think to yourself 'why this must be Melanie...'
'Melody' I correct weakly.
'Right "Melody", my bad, so Melody just shows up at the bar you're working at.. even though she's been remarried for the past two years now and squeezing out babies somewhere in Oregon. Even though the last time you guys had talked was for her to threaten to sic her lawyer on you to get a semblance of alimony out of you...'
I remember pulling the car over. My head began spinning. I felt like I was going to vomit all of a sudden and the bastard just wouldn't let up.
'Even with all that going on you just figured she just dumped her man, said 'fuck the kids', dropped twenty pounds and hoped the first plane to Terminus, Georgia to suck you off in the Mens room of the shitty bar you work at.'
'Adam i'm begging you...'
'Not fucking yet your not. So an hour or so later and you're banging down my door all hysterical and shit. Why? Because your dumb ass was too stupid to use some protection and now you got a supernatural STD crawling up the length of your cock...'
I'm struggling not to cry here. I had forgotten most of that night. Shit who wouldn't? One minute i'm in the bathroom stall watching Melody work my shaft the way she used to before we got married...I close my eyes and brace for the fireworks to go off and the next thing I know i'm looking at this old cunt two steps shy of the grave, down on her knees where Melody just was and cackling at me like the Wicked Witch of the West... I go to say something when I look down at my dick...
'You're sobbing and screaming and you keep trying to whip it out and show me. Finally once I got you calmed down enough to tell me what happened you show me the damage...'
...but i'm not thinking of grandma corpse on her knees. I'm thinking of the tickling burn I feel on the tip of my dick. I look down and right there, and even now i'm not sure if this was a dream or some bad shit someone slipped me on the down low, but right there on the tip of my cock was this little green face looking back up at me. It's eyes darted back and forth and when it saw I was looking at it, it... it just started screaming this high pitched squeal.
Now grandma corpse is nowhere to be seen and i'm trying to pull this fucking thing off my dick, but the more I yank, the more I realize it's grown on to my dick. In fact the little fucker bit me at one point and I just couldn't think. Everything was moving to fast. I tucked the fucker back in my zipper. I couldn't think clearly, I was scared to go to an ER in case they decided to cut my dick off for medical science or something and I could feel the tingling spreading down the shaft to the balls. I threw up in the toliet and started crying uncontrollably.
Then I remembered Adam. I used to score the occasional 20 bag off him and had done business here and there in the past.. What stuck out now was Germ and Spew talking about the squat house ghost on Euclid Avenue he had supposedly banished last year. He was apparently some kind of Magician or somethin' and not any of that David Copperfield shit either. He was one of the real ones that had been settling in Terminus in the last few years. Normally I think it's all a bunch of new age hippy bullshit, but now...
Inside my pants I could hear that thing screaming as it continued growing off the tip of my dick screaming at me.
'...you told me right there and then, that if I took care of 'your little problem' for you, you'd do anything for me....anything no matter what... no matter when.'
'C'mon man... i've paid you back a hundred times over.'
'Really?' and he just looks me in the eyes and yeah, I know deep down inside that I really haven't.
'Alright man, whaddya need me to do?' I say.
'First drop me off at my place. Second i'm gonna need you to call my friend Rasheed. He's got a job for you. Lemme ask you somethin'... you still own that Barretta?'
And here I am. Rasheed calls in Ronnie who calls in Adam who calls in my sorry ass because I was too stupid to not look a gift horse in the mouth. It's like I said before, it's all one big shit sandwich and the guy at the bottoms gotta foot the bill.
Part 1: Gibbon take.
We pull out of the parking lot and turn onto Hood Avenue. Rasheed just looks me over and sniffs the air. Satisfied that I no longer smell like Gibbon pee he rolls up his window and turns on the AC.
"Feel better?" He asks with absolutely no concern in his voice.
"Yeah man, thanks..."
"Good, maybe that'll cut your bitching down to a constant monologue."
"Fuck you."
"Anytime."
We drive in relative silence. If you don't count the old school Wu-Tang Rasheed's blasting off the stereo. All these expensive ass speakers and digital surround sound systems and I can still hear the bastard singing along off key ~'I'll give-it-to-ya-with-no-trivia-i'm-hardcore-like-cocaine-from-Boliva!'~ I swear to god i'm in a $50 grand sportscar and you mean to tell me this asshole has only got but one CD! Yep, you can add one more condiment on the shit sandwich my days become.
But I don't blame Rasheed. I really don't. If it's anyones fault it's Adam. Adam-fuckin'-Last aka 'The Magical Mystery Bore'! Y'see here's the thing. I didn't ask for any of this shit. It all started 'cause Skinhead Ronnie owed Rasheed a few large for a deal that fell through. Rasheed figured he'd settle up with Ronnie by getting some labor out of him; a little muscle for what was shaping up to be a pretty busy Friday night. Thing is Ronnie's got his kid this weekend and even if he could get out of it, he wouldn't. So Ronnie called in Adam. Turns out Adam's in some sort of serious shit and he's got Ronnie on the 911 speed dial to help get him out of it. What kind of shit you might ask?
'Magick Shit Brian. The less you know about it the better'. He tells me like he's Doctor Fuckin' Strange all of a sudden. This is last night and I just got off my shift working the door at Jenny's. I walk over to my car and there the fucker is, waiting all non-chalant and what not for me to give his ass a ride home like I got nothing better to do.
'Well that's great, Adam. But what's that got to do with me?' I ask him as he lets himself in the passenger seat... the prick.
'Are you aware of the law of physics that dictates that 'Shit rolls down hill'?'
'Uh-huh!' I say knowing full well what's coming.
'Well, Brian, lets just say 'Magick Shit' rolls down hill a lot faster and a lot harder. Call it Karma if you will...'
'I'll call it bullshit is what i'll do....'
'What did you call it when you came banging on my door in the middle of the night last year?'
'C'mon man. I thought we were even on that shit...'
'Three in the god damn morning you show up. Made me kick that stripper out of my bed, y'know...the one I spent the better part of three hours wasting coke and cash on and why?'
'Alright, alright you made your ...'
'No..no.. you wanted to go there. So let's go. Now I asked you 'why' so lets think about this a second, Hmmm? Oh yeah, I remember now, it was because someone was dumb enough to let a lousy piece of Trailer Succubi go down on you without protection...'
'That's not fair...' And it well fucking wasn't. I don't know half the shit this fool be talking about sometimes. 'Succubi' for me was some shit out of a D&D manual I outgrew 15 years ago. '...she looked...well she looked like...'
'She looked like your ex-wife did when you first met her twenty pounds and five years ago. That should've been your first fuckin' clue...so you think to yourself 'why this must be Melanie...'
'Melody' I correct weakly.
'Right "Melody", my bad, so Melody just shows up at the bar you're working at.. even though she's been remarried for the past two years now and squeezing out babies somewhere in Oregon. Even though the last time you guys had talked was for her to threaten to sic her lawyer on you to get a semblance of alimony out of you...'
I remember pulling the car over. My head began spinning. I felt like I was going to vomit all of a sudden and the bastard just wouldn't let up.
'Even with all that going on you just figured she just dumped her man, said 'fuck the kids', dropped twenty pounds and hoped the first plane to Terminus, Georgia to suck you off in the Mens room of the shitty bar you work at.'
'Adam i'm begging you...'
'Not fucking yet your not. So an hour or so later and you're banging down my door all hysterical and shit. Why? Because your dumb ass was too stupid to use some protection and now you got a supernatural STD crawling up the length of your cock...'
I'm struggling not to cry here. I had forgotten most of that night. Shit who wouldn't? One minute i'm in the bathroom stall watching Melody work my shaft the way she used to before we got married...I close my eyes and brace for the fireworks to go off and the next thing I know i'm looking at this old cunt two steps shy of the grave, down on her knees where Melody just was and cackling at me like the Wicked Witch of the West... I go to say something when I look down at my dick...
'You're sobbing and screaming and you keep trying to whip it out and show me. Finally once I got you calmed down enough to tell me what happened you show me the damage...'
...but i'm not thinking of grandma corpse on her knees. I'm thinking of the tickling burn I feel on the tip of my dick. I look down and right there, and even now i'm not sure if this was a dream or some bad shit someone slipped me on the down low, but right there on the tip of my cock was this little green face looking back up at me. It's eyes darted back and forth and when it saw I was looking at it, it... it just started screaming this high pitched squeal.
Now grandma corpse is nowhere to be seen and i'm trying to pull this fucking thing off my dick, but the more I yank, the more I realize it's grown on to my dick. In fact the little fucker bit me at one point and I just couldn't think. Everything was moving to fast. I tucked the fucker back in my zipper. I couldn't think clearly, I was scared to go to an ER in case they decided to cut my dick off for medical science or something and I could feel the tingling spreading down the shaft to the balls. I threw up in the toliet and started crying uncontrollably.
Then I remembered Adam. I used to score the occasional 20 bag off him and had done business here and there in the past.. What stuck out now was Germ and Spew talking about the squat house ghost on Euclid Avenue he had supposedly banished last year. He was apparently some kind of Magician or somethin' and not any of that David Copperfield shit either. He was one of the real ones that had been settling in Terminus in the last few years. Normally I think it's all a bunch of new age hippy bullshit, but now...
Inside my pants I could hear that thing screaming as it continued growing off the tip of my dick screaming at me.
'...you told me right there and then, that if I took care of 'your little problem' for you, you'd do anything for me....anything no matter what... no matter when.'
'C'mon man... i've paid you back a hundred times over.'
'Really?' and he just looks me in the eyes and yeah, I know deep down inside that I really haven't.
'Alright man, whaddya need me to do?' I say.
'First drop me off at my place. Second i'm gonna need you to call my friend Rasheed. He's got a job for you. Lemme ask you somethin'... you still own that Barretta?'
And here I am. Rasheed calls in Ronnie who calls in Adam who calls in my sorry ass because I was too stupid to not look a gift horse in the mouth. It's like I said before, it's all one big shit sandwich and the guy at the bottoms gotta foot the bill.
Part 1: Gibbon take.
