Anaideia 50

As dawn came and I glanced out the window past the rocky alpine to the great blue Lake Tahoe beyond, I chagrined at my misfortune of not being shot and having my body dumped in that watery grave where so many unnamed met their fate. In that moment that was my biggest regret. Instead the fate that awaited Dale and me was a shallow and sandy one in the desert.

I always hated the desert.

But the limousine followed Randy’s Cadillac down the winding roads until intersecting with civilization in Reno. We pressed forward still, eastward into the Nevadan abyss and our destination unknown. The curvy roads gave way to the straight and predictable and the evergreen Sierras transitioned to the golden dead of high desert. Dale and I didn’t talk. As I recalled the last months, I realized my decisions led to not only my demise but his as well. I owed it to him to say something. The right thing.

So I apologized.

“What for?” he asked me. “If it weren’t for you, I would have blown my brains out in West Covina months ago.”

“Because of the toilet factory?” I inquired.

Dale gazed out the window in a rare moment of self reflection. He stroked his chin as if finding the clarity that so eluded him. “Damn the toilet factory,” he said. “That ain’t got nothing to do with the price of tea in China.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said.

“Well,” he said as he straightened himself out, “I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you this. But we’re about to die so it makes little sense to keep this bottled up. But anyways, my bitch of a wife, she’s been dead for years.”

“Huh?” I asked, slightly flabbergasted. “But why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than dying.”

“How so?”

“I killed her.”

I didn’t know what to say. To tell the truth I wasn’t all that surprised. Maybe I’ve always known; Dale struck me as a guy that would kill his wife. But it made little difference now. I let him spill the beans; that was all that was left to do.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You know, I’m not sure,” he explained. “I knew that she was fuckin around on me. But I didn’t want to say anything to her. I didn’t want her leaving me, ya know? Who would want to be with a sad sack of shit like me? But I guess something finally gave and I got drunk and took my shotgun out. The next morning I found her brains splattered all over the trailer. Of course I don’t remember killing her. But I panicked and took her body and cut her up into dozens of pieces and scattered her all across Southern California. What’s a feller to do, ya know? I figured I’d go to the grave with that knowledge. Now I guess we both will.”

With Dale’s conscience cleared, there was nothing left to say. The wheels kept rolling down I-80 further into the abyss.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 49

Randy finished his glass of scotch and paced around the basement. At that moment there was nothing I wanted more than to be done with this charade so I looked at Dale who was unbothered by this tension. “Well Randy,” I declared, “I don’t forgive you. So let’s stop pussyfooting around and get this over with.”

Randy stopped pacing and looked at the Madam and her eyes drifted to the floor. Then he sighed and poured another glass. “You know what this means don’t you?” he asked me.

“It means in a matter of minutes we’ll dead and buried,” I said plainly.

He swallowed the scotch whole. “But what about your friend there?” he asked, referring to Dale.

“Oh, me?” said Dale. “Yeah I’ve know that this was coming for a long time.”

I could’ve been wrong but I thought I saw a small tear streaking down Randy’s cheek. Whatever emotions he might’ve been feeling, he concealed them well with his following statements. “Okay then,” he said, “but I won’t do it here. This is my home. I wish that I could have given you a better ending but I must have you two escorted to the desert and shot. I’m very sorry.”

“Shove your apologies,” I said.

Randy signaled to the driver and the driver briefly left the room. A moment later, Old Jim stepped out from behind the door with his six shooter ready. “Jim!” I gasped.

“How’s your aim dad?” Randy asked him.

“I may be old, but I can still shoot the pecker off a…”

“Alright alright,” Randy interrupted him. “Take these men out to the desert and have them killed.”

“Dad?!” I shouted.

“Yeah, Old Jim is my dad. Which makes him your grandpa I suppose. I thought it was obvious. You’re both named James. Anyway, let’s get this show on the road…”

Christ, I thought. It was obvious. But it didn’t matter anymore. Old Jim and the driver approached us and took us by the arm. “Hello James,” Jim said to me.

“Jim! Papaw!”

“Papaw,” said Jim. “I remember my papaw. Legend has it that his dick was two feet long and he strangled Wild Bill Hickok with…”

“Dad!” Randy interrupted. “Enough with the stories! We have a job to do!”

“And where are you going?” I asked Randy as he was picking up several Manila envelopes.

“I have a meeting with the Vietnamese in an hour. Sorry that I can’t make it.”

“So a meeting with the Vietnamese is more important than the death of your own son?”

Randy stood motionless at my challenge. “But this is a very important meeting,” he said.

I shook my head. “How typical of Randy,” I said rhetorically. “He can’t even look his own son in the eye.”

He slammed the glass onto the tiled floor and it shattered into a thousand pieces. The Madam was startled by the sudden burst. “Alright! Goddamn you!” he shouted. “If this is what you want then I will grant you your last request! I will, by god, journey with you to the desert where you will meet your demise!”

“Thanks Randy,” I said. “That’s very sweet of you.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 48

Randy didn’t know what to make of Susan. He sipped the scotch mere feet from her face with her eyes bowed to the floor. I turned my head to see a tear stream down her face. Though this was the moment she had been waiting for, nothing had prepared her for it. “I don’t think I know you,” Randy said.

Susan palmed her eyes and lifted her head to face him. When I looked at Randy, I could tell he was genuinely perplexed. “Where is my mother?” Susan managed to squeak out.

Randy squinted his eyes and took another sip. He lowered the glass and placed it in his left hand. “Darling,” he said, putting his right hand to her cheek, “I’m sorry but I don’t understand your question.”

“Where is MY mother,” she repeated.

“If you could tell me who you are, perhaps I could help,” he said, taken back by her sudden forcefulness.

“Susan.”

“Susan who?”

“Susan Brucetti.”

He took his hand off her face and had another sip. “Brucetti?” he asked and swallowed hard. “I believe a Lyonette Brucetti was under my employment many years ago. Is that your mother?”

Susan nodded and lowered her head again. Randy’s face began to blush and he nervously scratched his head. “I’m afraid that I haven’t seen Lyonette in some time,” he explained. “Last I heard, she was living in Chico with her husband. I apologize, but I haven’t been keeping close tabs on her.”

“You’re a liar,” Susan said.

“Pardon?”

“You’re a liar. You sold her into sex slavery.”

“W-why would I do that?”

“Because that’s the kind of man you are!”

“Susan, sweetheart, I think you have the wrong idea. You see, Lyonette and I were lovers for a very long time. I loved her. Why would I sell someone I love into slavery?”

“Then why would she abandon me?!”

Randy turned around and refused to face us. He sat his glass of scotch down and rubbed his brow. “I’m sorry Susan,” he said, “had I of known, I would have done something.”

“What do you mean?”

“We had a child together. A girl.”

Susan looked at me with wide eyes. No words came. In real time I could see her heart sink to her feet and Dale shook his head. “Told you it was a mistake,” he uttered under his breath.

“Goddamnit Dale,” I said.

“What was a mistake?” asked Randy, still not facing us.

“Forget it,” I said.

“I’m gonna be sick,” said Susan.

Randy picked up the glass again and ignored the comment entirely. He turned around and leaned against the table. “Susan, my dear, I think you should leave,” he said. “I don’t want you to be a part of what’s about to happen.”

Susan quietly nodded and the driver took her by the arm and escorted her upstairs. She never looked back at me. She was defeated.

When she was gone and the shock wore off, I looked at Randy. “Two damaged children,” I said. “That’s your real legacy.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 47

It was a shame that we arrived in Tahoe after nightfall. The mountain vistas and alpine would have been a glorious sight to see before death. But the limousine descended into obscure wavy backroads before arriving at Randy’s rocky sprawl and the driver exited the vehicle with a Ruger ready. “Welcome to the Furie estate,” he said after opening the backseat door. “Please step out of the vehicle or be shot.”

We complied with his demand and stood in a row in the late night mountain air and the driver waved us in through the immaculate entrance. Inside the mansion, the walls were adorned with bear skins and moose heads with a few human skulls for added effect. But before I could take it all in we were pushed through the house and down the stairs into a padded and soundproofed basement where on the other end Randy was yelling racial slurs through a microphone while playing Baldur’s Gate. We stood on one end of the basement while the driver shuffled to the other end to inform Mr. Furie.

“Your guests sir,” the driver said.

Randy swiveled around in his chair and when he laid eyes upon us he smiled. “Welcome! Welcome!” he greeted.

“Randy, if this is supposed to scare me then you’re doing a shitty job,” I said.

“Scare you? Why would I try to scare you?” he asked.

He stood up and flattened out his maroon smoking jacket and the Madam stepped through a hidden door disguised as a book case and handed him a glass of scotch. He took the glass then sniffed and swirled it. “The real reason I asked you here is to beg for your forgiveness,” he informed us.

“Why should I forgive you?” I said.

Randy squinted to bear through what seemed to be his internal torment. “Oh why can’t you see the burden placed upon my shoulders?” he posed. “The whole world pleads for forbidden contraband and services and those screams fall into my ears like cries in the night.”

“I can’t imagine the pain you must be in,” I said sarcastically.

“No man can imagine it,” he said, not picking up on my sarcasm. “I come from a long line of service providers; an ancient lineage we are.”

“No doubt,” I said. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“I’ve always desired you to be a part of this proud tradition,” he said with a tinge of mournfulness. “There’s no greater honor than a son following his father’s footsteps.”

“I’m sorry I disappointed you,” I replied.

Randy stepped a little closer with scotch in hand to look us up and down. He could tell something was amiss. “Where’s the fellow among you who destroyed my desert fortress?” he asked.

“He died in the wilderness weeks after,” I told him.

“A tragedy for you no doubt. But a fitting end for a warrior.”

“He got what was coming to him.”

“A fate that we all must face.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 46

After blowing my winnings at the casino bar, I stumbled back to the suite and I fumbled around with the keys outside of the door for second before finding the key card. When I unlocked the door, all the lights were off and the suite was eerily quiet. I had assumed that Dale was fuckin off somewhere in the city so I turned on the lights in the foyer and proceeded to the kitchen. When I cut on the lights, it illuminated both the kitchen and the living room and I saw the hotel guards along with their manager holding Dale hostage. There were no baseball bats this time. Just guns and knives with one to Dale’s throat.

“Sorry ol buddy,” Dale regretfully said. “There were just too many of them.”

“It’s alright Dale,” I told him.

The hotel manager stepped forward and ordered me to place the Walther on the floor and put my hands behind my head. So I dropped the gun on the ground. “If you check the receipts at the bar, you’ll see that all the money I won was spent at your casino,” I said. “Except for the booze which you clearly overcharged me for, you didn’t loose a single cent on me.”

“I don’t care about the money,” the manager said. “Mr. Furie’s patience has grown thin. We will be escorting you out of the hotel where there’s a limousine waiting for you downstairs.”

“Will I have time to pack my bags?”

“I don’t think you’ll be needing them sir.”

A guard put a gun to my rib cage and Dale and I were escorted to the elevator then down into the lobby where we did the walk of shame in front of casino patrons. Outside, we were thrown into the backseat of a limo where Susan was already inside. It was clear she had been treated to the same care we had just received. “Hello fellas,” she mournfully spoke.

“Evening Susan,” I said.

When we were all inside, the manager handed me a paper. “Here’s your receipt sir,” he explained. “If you take the survey at the very bottom then you’ll receive a 1.5% discount on your next stay.”

“Thank you,” I told him. Then I crumbled up the paper and tossed it out the window. When we were all buckled up, the driver rolled down the front seat glass and smiled. “We should be arriving in Tahoe within an hour,” he said.

“Is there any booze back here?” I ask him.

“Nope!” he said. Then he rolled the glass back up.

“I suppose that this is our last hurrah,” Dale said.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” I told him. “I’ve defeated Randy before and there’s no reason to think I can’t do so again.”

“But you’re drunk,” Susan told me.

“Shit, I didn’t think of that,” I said. “Well look at it this way: no one wants to live forever, right? And who said that? Freddie Mercury. And look what happened to him. They made a movie about him! So if you want to achieve immortality then that’s the way you do it. You have to die for people to remember you forever. So I think what’s happening now is a good thing.”

No one said another word to another as we traveled westbound to Tahoe.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 45

While I was losing thousands on the slots, casino “security” was breathing down my neck and waving their baseball bats. After losing my final quarter, I had enough and turned around to shout at them. “There!” I said. “I lost all my life savings to the Wheel of Fortune machine! You can tell your boss that he finally made a profit off me!”

The lead guard swung his bat one last time and gave me a mean look. “Swing that bat one more time and I’ll shove it up your ass,” I retorted.

The guards lowered their bats and dispersed. “Pussies!” I shouted at them.

With my last $10 I noticed Susan drinking alone at the bar. We hadn’t said a word to each other since the fuck sesh the night before and I felt like I needed to clear the air. I laid the $10 bill on the bar and ordered a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. “That’ll be $9.95,” the bartender said.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath. “Alright, bring it to me.”

Susan was silent as I pulled up a stool next to hers. She was clutching her beer and was deep in thought. The bartender brought the drink and laid the nickel on the counter. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

“No. Kiss my ass,” I said and the barman bowed and wondered off.

I sipped my beer and lamented to Susan. “Life is hard enough without having to be charged $10 for a PBR,” I said. “Is that all that motivates this world? Greed and avarice? If I were the Old Testament god, I too would smite the world with a mighty flood and repopulate it with a race of pure beings touched only by angelic blood. That was where god fucked up. He thought Noah was the only man without blemish and look what that got us: Reno goddamn Nevada. I say curse god and all of existence for permitting such a horrid place!”

Susan said nothing to this.

“So anyways, how are you?” I ask.

“Fine,” she said.

“I would buy you another drink but I’ve only got a dime to my name.”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you think the Knicks will win the Finals?”

“No.”

“Sorry for not shaving my balls. I’ve been out in the wilderness for awhile and haven’t had the time.”

Susan took a huge gulp of her beer and looked at me. “Now that we have Randy in our sights, I don’t know how to feel,” she explained.

“I think you’re putting way too much thought into this,” I said. “Randy is an idiot.”

“I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to track him down. I can’t shake the feeling that all of this has been in vain.”

“Life is all vanity,” I told her. Then I picked up the nickel and held it up. “But life is short. And I’m not gonna waste it on second guessing myself. Things can’t be shit forever. Just you watch.”

Out of defiance to the casino, I proudly took that nickel and placed into a penny slot. The wheels turned before landing on three straight nooses and lights began flashing with an endless amount coins piled into the troth. The guards reappeared with baseball bats ready as I tried to cash the coins so I lifted my shirt to reveal the Walther PPQ tucked away in the waist of my pants.

“Try it,” I taunted to the lead guard. “The manager said he didn’t want a bloodbath in his casino. You wouldn’t want to go against his wishes eh?”

The guards again lowered their bats and dispersed. I held the wad of cash and beamed. “Maybe I’m the one touched by god,” I said to myself.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 44

“So you fucked Susan?” Dale asked me over breakfast.

“We didn’t fuck,” I informed him. “We made love. Don’t be so fucking crude, Dale.”

“Well how was it?”

“A gentleman never tells. That’s something you wouldn’t know about.”

We sipped on our mimosas and Bloody Mary’s over a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon and steaks and all the greasy foods to cure a hangover. Susan was still in bed while Dale and I maintained our company in the kitchen. I was on maybe my fifth Bloody Mary when there was a knock on the door.

“For Christ sake!” I shouted. “Why do we keep getting visitors?!”

So I go back down the foyer to answer the door. It was the hotel manager with a smug look on his face. He was alone this time without his gaggle of minions. “Not so tough now huh? Asshole,” I said to him.

“I have a message here from one Randall J. Furie,” the manager said. I took the paper from his hand and opened it up.

“Dear James,” the message read, “sorry for kidnapping you and keeping you prisoner. I’m also sorry for killing those Chechen and Chinese guys in front of you in Norco. Please forgive me. Love, Randy.”

I look up from the paper and back at the manager. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” I ask him.

“Mr. Furie is willing to send you a limousine to escort you to his home in Tahoe,” the manager said.

I crumble up the paper and throw it in his face. “You tell Randy to come HERE and apologize!” I say.

“I do not wish to have a bloodbath in my hotel sir.”

“Well there’s about to be a bloodbath if you don’t get your ass back on the elevator and tell Randy my demands! You hear?!”

“Very well sir,” the manager said. Then he bowed and returned to the elevator.

“That’s right! Run away you pussy ass bitch!” I shout.

I close the door and go back to the kitchen where Dale was spinning the chamber of his revolver. “Who was that?” he asked.

“That bitch ass manager,” I say.

Susan storms out of the bedroom in her robe and glared at us. “It’s 11:30 in the morning!” she cried. “Can you guys keep it down out here?!”

I avert my eyes away from hers. “My apologies,” I said. “We’ll be quieter next time.”

Susan tied up her robe and adjusted her mood. “Good morning, James,” she said.

“Good morning,” I said, still not making eye contact.

“Are you two enjoying your breakfast,” she stammered.

“Yes.”

Susan stood up straight and took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose I should get ready for the day,” she said.

I gently nod.

Susan goes back into the bedroom and closes the door. Dale puts down his revolver and looks at me. “That was awkward,” he said.

“Do you think it was a mistake?” I ask him.

“To fuck her?”

“To make love goddamnit!”

“Well I don’t know much about women or much of anything really. But yes. It was a mistake.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 43

I sat at the end of the foyer and pounded the tequila bottle and I waited for our inevitable visitor. It was late. Dale and Susan were fast asleep and tucked away in their bedrooms while I was alone with only my thoughts and Walther PPQ to protect me. I added the silencer to the gun so as to not wake them up.

I was nearing the point of blackout when the knob twisted. I raised the Walther and waited for the intruder. I heard heels clanking onto the marble floor and from behind the door appeared the Madam in a form fitting red gown. She stopped momentarily to stare down the barrel. “I knew you’d come,” I said as I slurred out my words.

“I’m only here to deliver a message,” she said.

“You’re dressed awfully well to just deliver a message.”

“This? I just left a Hoobastank concert. Anyway, I’m here to tell you that Randy isn’t mad at you for burning down his brothel. In fact, he wants to visit him at his villa in Tahoe.”

I took another shot of tequila. “Tahoe eh?” I said. “Now I know where to find him.”

“You and I both know that he’s a dangerous man. You’ll never get to him.”

“Yet I was the one that torched his empire in the desert.”

“He wants bygones to be bygones. You’re his only son. He wants someone to leave his legacy to.”

“He should have thought of that before making me his prisoner for two months.”

The madam nodded. “So why did you come to Reno?” she asked.

“You know why.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I would if I had bullets in this gun.”

“Well, Randy’s invitation stands. If you wish to see him, I believe you know how to contact me.”

She glanced at me one last time. “He’s waiting on you,” she said and then closed the door behind her. I took another swig of tequila. Susan appeared from behind her bedroom door in a robe and slippers. “Who was that?” she asked.

“The Madam,” I said.

“You mean to tell me that we robbed a robbed a UPS store and stranded a naked guy in the middle of the desert for nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say it was for nothing,” I said. “It got her attention. And besides, I had a pretty good time.”

Susan pulled up a chair and sat beside me then rested her hand on my shoulder. “Mind if I have a drink?” she asked. I handed her the bottle and she drank. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Randy’s in Tahoe,” I said. “I reckon we ought to stock up and ambush him.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea goddamnit. But that’s the only idea I’ve got.”

“Does she have your friend?”

“Which one?”

“Old Jim.”

“Shit. I forgot to ask.”

Susan took one last swig and sat the bottle down. “Come on,” she said, “we need to get some sleep.” She stood up and I grabbed her by the hand.

“You’re the only one who understands what I’m going through,” I said to her.

“You’re drunk,” she said.

“Of course I’m drunk. I’m always drunk.”

“Go to bed and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“But you’re sleeping in my bed,” I said then gently kissed her hand.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 42

“Heroin is great!” Dale said. “My leg doesn’t feel shattered anymore. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how incredible this drug is!”

“Why do you think I stole it from the UPS store?” I said. “I was thinking about how much pain you were in while writhing around in the backseat of that Geo Metro. I was saving you thousands in medical bills! I’m quite a good friend to you, ya know?”

Dale nodded and shoved another breakfast burrito into his face hole. “I was about to say that,” he said. “I know that I’ve dodged death one too many times the last couple of months, but I’ve had the time of my life. I’ve got you to thank for that.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” I said. “Chasing monsters in the desert and crashing expensive ass vehicles sure beats the shit out of cleaning toilets for a living, eh?”

“You’re goddamn right, pal!”

We clinked our mimosa glasses together and finished eating our breakfast in the hotel suite kitchen when Susan marched through the door. She was covered in blood and dirt and was fuming up a storm. “I took care of your Fred Durst problem!” she spat. “You two lazy mother fuckers couldn’t be bothered!”

“Woah woah woah!” I said. “Calm your ass down you grumpy old bitch! This is a positive environment!”

“I had to drive Fred out to the middle of the desert in that shitty Metro and when I let him out he tried to fight me and then I had to stab him multiple times just to get him off me!”

“You didn’t kill him did you?”

“No! He ran off bare assed into the wilderness and I didn’t feel like chasing him!”

“Oh thank Christ,” I said. “I felt kinda bad about punching him in the face.”

“You feel bad for him?!” she screamed. “I’m the one trying to tie up your loose ends!”

“I would have gotten around to it eventually!”

But before Susan could reach for her knife to stab me, there was knock on the door. So I again waltzed down the foyer to answer it and when I did there was the hotel manager outside with three large men armed with baseball bats. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” I asked innocently.

“You’ve had this suite booked for one night and you’ve stayed for three,” the manager said. “You also haven’t spent a single red cent in the casino since we graciously asked you to be our guests. So I’m asking you to leave this hotel and the state of Nevada quietly before things get ugly.”

“I see,” I said. “So if I go down into the casino and drop a quarter in the slots, will you get off my ass?”

“Get your shit and get the fuck out,” the manager reiterated.

“Allow me to confer with my colleagues,” I said. So I shut the door and walk back down the foyer to the kitchen to discuss things with Susan and Dale.

“Bad news guys,” I said. “We’re being evicted. Unless one of you has $50,000, we need to pack our shit and leave.”

“I’m not gonna take this lying down!” Dale declared. “I cheated at blackjack fair and square!”

“The hotel doesn’t see it that way,” I said.

“What are our options?” asked Susan.

I scratched my head and ass and thought. “Well, I suppose we could camp out in the Metro or get the shit kicked out of us by three guards.”

So we unanimously decided to gather our belongings and depart the hotel and as we walked through the front door and past the manager and the guards, the hotel assistant manager came running out the elevator carrying a sheet of paper with urgent news. “Stop! Stop!” he shouted. “Do not evict them! Their bill has been paid for and they’re cleared to stay another week!”

The manager grabbed the paper from his assistant’s hands and chagrined. Without sharing its contents, the manager folded the paper and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. He took a bat from one of the guards and put it to my chin. “I’ll be watching you,” he warned me.

The guards lowered their weapons and mean mugged us as they shuffled back to the elevator. I breathed a sigh of relief and went back into the room. “We dodged that bullet,” I said.

“Yup. But next time I’ll make them dodge my bullet,” said Dale holding up a Glock.

“Who could have paid that bill?” wondered Susan.

“There’s only one man who could have done us that favor,” I said. “Randy.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 41

We all piled into the Geo Metro with Dale pissing in moaning in the backseat while his leg started to fester. “I think it will need to be amputated,” he cried and cried.

“Not now Dale,” I said. “We’re on the cusp of something big here.”

Susan started the engine and we slowly rolled towards the UPS store. I placed the brown UPS hat on my head which completed my secret disguise: that of Fred Durst, the UPS driver who I left knocked out cold on my kitchen floor. His uniform I stole was slightly smaller than average and it felt like my scrotum would pop out of the bottom of the shorts at any moment.

“Don’t get too much blood on the seats,” I warned Dale.

“The pain! The PAIN!” he kept whining.

“Keep sipping on that bourbon,” I suggested. “That should keep you good and numb for awhile.”

Susan parked in front of the store and I climbed out of the front seat and grabbed the large box that Fred Durst tried to deliver before I punched his lights out. “I don’t expect any trouble,” I told Susan, “but if you see the Madam, just honk twice.”

After I shut the door, the man from the mattress store recognized me. “Hey! Weren’t you that jackass that kicked me in the dick yesterday?!” he angrily shouted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about sir,” I said. “I’m just a simple UPS driver.”

“Then where’s your UPS truck at?” he asked.

I didn’t have an answer so I again launched my foot towards his crotch and kicked him hard. While he was writing on the sidewalk, again, I calmly walked into the UPS store and went up to the employee behind the counter. “Hello,” I told the employee, “I am Fred Durst. THE Fred Durst. I tried to deliver this package to a Mr. Doug Jones this morning and he told me that it actually belongs to a Madam Joelle. If you could give me her address, I’ll happily get it delivered to her.”

The employee popped the gum in her mouth and cocked her head sideways. “Why didn’t you bring it back to the warehouse?” she asked.

“Well, you know, the warehouse is a little out of my way and too much red tape and all that bullshit. I thought it would be easier to stop in here.”

“I can’t give you her address but a Joelle Miser does have a PO Box registered with this store. You can leave the package here and I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“Joelle Miser you said?”

“Are you sure you’re Fred Durst?”

“Yes. Middle name is Robert. Look, she urgently needs this package. Just give me the goddamn address and…”

“I can’t give you the address but if I get my manager…

“No no. That’s alright….”

“PHIL!!” she shouts.

Phil steps out from behind the curtains and pokes his spectacles up to his face then pulls his pants up to his navel as he eagerly steps to the counter to help. “What seems to be the problem?” he asks.

“This guy wants to know Joelle Miser’s address,” the employee explained.

“We can’t give out customer’s addresses.”

“Yes I know,” I said. “But I’m kinda in a hurry. Can’t you help a fella out? I wear the brown just like you.”

“Well what’s in the package?” asked Phil.

“I don’t fucking know. Some shit.”

“Let’s just open it up and take a look,” he said as he grabbed a box cutter.

“Don’t be an asshole Phil. Come on…”

“It’ll only take a second.”

Phil took the box and cut it open. He took out some packing paper and bubble wrap before reaching into the cardboard and pulling out a couple of kilos of black tar heroin. “Is this why you’re in a hurry?” he asked.

“Uh, I didn’t know that was in there,” I said.

“Well…,” he pondered, “it appears that a few federal crimes were committed. Just hang tight while I contact the authorities.”

“Please don’t do that,” I said.

“No no, it’s alright,” he assured me as he picked up the phone.

But I punched him in the face and took the black tar heroin for good measure then rushed out of the store and back into the Geo. “The Madam’s name is Joelle Miser,” I shouted to Susan. “Go go go!!!”

TO BE CONTINUED…