Dick by Law (13 page)

Chapter 2
9

Three
Days
Later

Washington, D.C.

Simon was halfway down the steps of the Capitol building
in Washington, D.C.
when
it happened. A
young
guy
on his way up the steps stopped, whipped open his tan overcoat to reveal a Dick
Life
t-shirt, and pelted Simon with rotten eggs.

"Down with pussies!" said the
guy.
"Up with dicks!"

Simon batted away two eg
gs, but three others
splattered on his
red-
pinstripe
d black
suit
, raising a stench
. A mushroom cloud of rage went off in his head
as the
egg-thrower
ran laughing down the steps, passing witnesses who laughed and a few who even applauded. Without a word
,
Simon
charged down the Capitol Hill steps at the
egg-flinging dick.

The dick pitched the whole carton and ran
off down the street
. "Watch
Dick Life
Sundays on Testosterone TV! Soon to be the Dick Network!"

Simon dodged the
egg
carton, but the litt
le freak was too fast for him. Even sprinting full-tilt, Simon quickly fell behind.

And then
he heard Buck calling
after him. "
Let him go, Simon! We don't have time!"

Simon stopped running. Heaving for breath in his egg-
splattered
suit, he watched the dick dash
through the crowd on the
street and disappear around a corner.

Simon cursed and paced in a circle.
"
First, it's
cat litter
,
and
now it's
rotten eggs
," he said
.
"
Can't they come up with something more
original
?"

"Not a crisis, not a crisis." Buck, in a
knee-length skirt and
smart gray
jacket with a white blouse underneath
, wiped eggy goop from Simon's suit with a lacy handkerchief.
Her lush red hair was pulled back in a businesslike bun on the back of her head.
"We'll
go inside and get you cleaned up
as best we can."

Simon closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fuck."

And that was just the
start
of his shitty day.

 

*****

Within the hour, Buck had Simon looking
halfway presentable. He could still feel patches of dried egg on his suit coat, but they were barely visible. At least the
smell
was gone.

Buck led him through the busy Capitol building then,
on their way to a meeting. The two of them
flash
ed
t
he
i
r I.D.
badges again and again
to get through
the
umpteen security checkpoints.
..and then they reached their destination.

When Simon set foot in the Chamber of the House of Representatives
for the first time, he forgot about the egg on his suit. Standing at the rear of the huge room, he gaped like a tourist, just taking it all in.

Row
after row of seats
were arranged in
concentric semi
circles on the sloped floor. Men in suits and ties and women in businesslike dresses and pantsuits milled throughout the
vast hall, talking in clusters amid the seats and in the aisles.
Down at the front of the room, he saw the famous benches where the Speaker of the House
presided...where the President of the United States delivered the State of the Union Address.

Simon's heart beat faster, and a shiver rippled up his spine. He was in a place he'd only ever seen before on TV, th
e heart of one of the most powerful nations on Earth, a place where history was made.

And maybe, this time, he would help make it. The vote for the dick registration act was set for that day. He and Buck had come to meet with the bill's sponsor and watch as the momentous vote was taken.

At least, that was the plan.

As soon as Simon saw the look on Congresswoman Jacobs' face, he knew there was a problem. She walked up the aisle toward him and Buck with a somber expression, kneading her hands at the
midriff of her conservative navy blue
dress.

"Bad news, Buck
.
"
Congresswoman Jacobs
was a slender woman,
petite
, with short black hair and dark-framed glasses
.
Simon thought she
looked
pretty attractive considering she must have been at least in her late fifties.
"The dick registration act is
on hold. No vote today."

Buck scowled. "
You're
kidd
ing.
" She gestured at the
crowd
of Congressmen milling around the
banks of seats in the
chamber
. "
I thought
we had
more
than enough support."

"We did
." Jacobs pushed a lock of black hair behind her left ear.
"
Until today
. The opposition
postponed the vote on a technicality, then trotted out their
own
dick-related legislation."

"There's an
other
dick bill
?" Simon was so surprised, he momentarily forgot to worry about his egg-
coated suit.
"Like ours?"

"Not exactly." Jacobs smoothed
her
blue
dress and looked around nervously. "They're calling it
'
the D
icks'
Bill of R
ights.
'
"

"I wish I could say I'm surprised." Buck sighed. "It was only a matter of time, I suppose."

"A
Dicks' Bill of R
ights
?" said Simon. "What's it cover? The right to act
like an idiot
?
The right to make the world a lousy place?"

"Basically." Jacobs nodded. "It also guarantees freedom from having to register as a dick."

"So much for the Dick Registration Act," said Buck.

"Could it actually
pass
?" said Simon.

Jacobs shook her head. "Not a chance. But it hurts
our
bill's chances. It's a joke, but it makes
our
bill look like a joke, too."

"Which is why they drafted it in the first place," said Buck.

"Bingo." Jacobs looked down front, then checked her watch. "I have to get going. Sorry about all this."

"We appreciate anything you can do," said Buck. "Let us know what happens."

"Honestly?" said Jacobs. "Don't expect any miracles. They've got some heavy hitters on their side."

"Let me guess," said Simon. "Some real
dicks
."

"The
world's full of them, isn't it
?" said Jacobs.

 

*****

Five
hours later, it was all over. Buck and Simon were on the way home, racing up the highway in Buck's
sea foam
green SUV.

"Sorry about all that
."
Buck
looked over
at Simon
from behind her designer sunglasses
.
She had her hair down, and it was blowing in the breeze from the driver's side window, which she'd opened all the way.
"It's a shame we drove all the way
to D.C.
for nothing."

Simon didn't feel like talking. He just grunted and kept staring out the passenger-side window
at the passing scenery
. They
were only minutes away
from home now, and he j
ust wanted to get there, crawl under a rock, and mope.

"At least we've given it our best shot," said Buck. "And hey, there's still a chance.
I have a few more things we can try. Maybe we can still pull out a win."

"Right." Simon looked down at his suit coat, which he'd taken off and
draped over
his lap.
He could still see the dried patches of egg
left over from the dick on the steps of the Capitol.

"But I don't know." Buck saw him staring at the egg
patches
. "Maybe you should lower your profile a little."

"Why's that?" said Simon.

Buck snapped her eyes back to the road and swerved to miss a
truck
pulling out in front of her.
"You've become kind of a
lightning rod
.
Attracting a lot of attention."

"I thought that was a
good
thing."

Buck shrugged. "It can work against you sometimes."

Simon sighed. "There's no such thing as bad publicity
, right?
"

"
But there
is
such
a
thing as
backlash
," said Buck. "Sometimes it's better to drop under the radar, tweak your
flight
plan, and pop back up when the
feeding frenzy's moved on to some
other
poor son of a bitch."

"Or maybe I just need to tough it out," said Simon. "Maybe I just need to try harder."

"Loo
k." Buck turned right, rolling into
Simon's neighborhood.
"My gut instinct
tells me
you're vulnerable right now.
You need to back off for a while."

Simon stared at the familiar houses drifting past. "Then a
gain, maybe it'll all blow over," he said.
"
Maybe your gut instinct's just indigestion."

Buck pulled up to a stop sign at an
intersection and looked right, then left
...and kept looking
at something
in that direction
.
"
It's possible
." She nodded
distractedly
and
slowly made the
left turn. They were on Simon's street now.
"Maybe it'll just blow over."

"I can't just give up, can I?" said Simon. "Especially if you still think I could run for office."

"
Running
might not be a bad idea
.
"
Buck
's voice sounded strange
. "Well, here we are."

As the SUV slowed, Simon
leaned forward, looking at the view up ahead
...and gasped
when he
finally
saw what
had
been distracting Buck
. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Want me to keep driving?" said Buck.

"Oh my God," said Simon.

The side of the street in front of hi
s house was lined with cars and TV production company trucks.
B
anners hung from the trucks and utility poles
, scrawled with sloppily painted slogans
: "DICKFEST YEAH!" "DICK LIFE ROCKS!" "DICKS BEAT PUSSIES!"
His yard was
packed with wall-to-wall people
, most of them college-aged or not much older.

His next-door neighbors' yards were full, too.
One of them had a boxing ring
in which
six
young
guys
were beating the crap out of each other.
In the
far
neighbor's yard, a rock band performed
on
stage, screaming and playing guitars
and drums
furiously fast.

It was total chaos, a sea of bobbing heads, man
y wearing dick hats--and video cameras were everywhere. Camera people glided through the crowd with ease, swinging their lenses this way and that, wherever they found something to shoot.

While Simon gaped at the scene, Buck
kept the SUV rolling slowly forward
.
"I should take you somewhere else.
"

"'Dick Life,'" said Simon. "It's that fucking
Horne Shaw
."

"Where else can I take you?" said Buck.

People were starting to take notice of the SUV. As they
looked and pointed, Simon had the urge to
tell Buck to floor the accelerator.
Just get him the hell out of there.

But then, he got angry.
He'd already taken enough shit for one day. He was sick to death of
dicks tormenting him, and the fact that
Horne
was involved--
Horne
's show, at least--put him
way
out there in majorly pissed-off land.

"Right here's fine." Simon reached for the door
handle
. "Let me off here."

Buck kept the car rolling. "Are you sure?"

"It's my house, isn't it?" Simon opened the door.
"I'm going in."

Buck stopped the SUV. "
I'll go with you."

"Not necessary." Simon hopped out. "I'll be fine."

He hesitated alongside the SUV, then took a deep breath and
march
ed around it. As soon as he appeared in full view of the people in his yard, they rushed him.

"Mee-owww!
Mee-owww!" They chanted it over and over, like the dicks who'd crashed Simon's lecture at Belle Mere College. "Mee-owww! Mee-owww!"

Simon aimed for the front door and plowed forward. Th
e rowdy, chanting
crowd opened to receive him and closed behind him like a giant living creature swallowing its prey.

"Mee-owww, Pussy Pussy Pussy! Mee-owww, Pussy Pussy Pussy!"
No one touched Simon, but the chanting got louder.

H
is progress was slow.
People didn't get out of his way fast enough. He had to stop twice and sho
ut at
them
to move
aside.

The third time he
stopped, the person blocking his way--a cameraman--wouldn't move.
Simon dodged left,
trying to get around him...
and ran right into a toothy blonde
twentysomething girl
holding a microphone.

"Look, folks! It's
the guy who started it all!"
T
h
e blonde
's voice squeaked with excitement
.
When she jumped up and down, h
er enormous breasts bounced under her tight
pink t-shirt with the "Dickfest" logo
across the front
.
"Welcome to
Dick Life
, Simon Bellerophon!"
Punching her arm straight up in the air, she let loose an ear-piercing shriek, and the crowd shrieked
right along
with her.

Simon turned to get away, but the cameraman was already there, pushing the lens of his camera at Simon's face.

"Who better to judge the
Dick Life
Great American
Dick-Off
?" said the blonde. "Wouldn't you say
no one
knows dicks as well as
you
?" With that, she thrust the mike at Simon and smiled
, gleaming teeth waiting for his
answer.

Simon didn't say a word
; a
wave
of primal fear
pulsed through him.
He felt the crowd closing in around him
in a mass of elbows, knees,
hair,
and body odor
,
jostling him,
cutting off
his
escape
.
H
e
felt closed in, trapped, and vulnerable
.

"Don't be shy, Simon!" said the blonde. "We just want you to help us make history!
It's the whole reason we've brought
Dickfest
to your front yard...so you can pick
the
Biggest
Dick
in
America
!"

With every passing second, Simon grew
simultaneously
angrier
and more
claustrophobic
. It took all his self-control to
stay calm
, but he knew he had to
hold back
. The cameras would capture
any sign of
weakness or
hostility for all eternity.

"
The winner of the
Dick Life
Dickfest
Dick-Off will represent the U.S.
at
the
First I
nternational
Dicklympics
in
Bermuda
!" The blonde whooped and waved
and jiggled
, and the crowd applauded on cue.
"
Horne Shaw
himself will crown the
World's Biggest Dick
!"

Simon
had heard enough. He
took a deep breath, gathering his
strength.
..and then he bolted
out from between
the
blonde and the cameraman, charging into the crowd.

People laughed and gasped and meowed, but they
parted to let Simon pass. Head down, jaws clenched, he stormed through them,
determined to make it to the house.

Meanwhile, the blonde followed and called out behind him. "Simon, wait!
Our first event's about to begin! The global warming
Fart-Off
!"

Simon's heart hammered as he drew closer to the front of the house. He knew he'd be inside in seconds,
safe from the madness.

"Simon, we need you!" said the blonde. "The dicks of the world need you!"

Simon kept marching, and the last people fell away from his path. He stomped up the three cement steps to the front stoop and reached for the doorknob.

Which was when an old man in a tattered tweed
sports coat
stepp
ed up beside him on the stoop. "Simon Bellerophon?" He had a ponytail and a
soft, high-pitched voice.

"What now?" said Simon.

The ponytailed old man held out a folded sheaf of papers. "You've been served."

Simon glared at the process server and refused to take the papers. "Served for
what
?"

"
Horne Shaw
's suing you." The server tried again to hand over the papers, then stuffed them down Simon's shirt. "He wants to have you legally declared a
pussy
."

"
What?
" said Simon.

Word spread fast through the crowd, and the "Mee-owww, Mee-owww" chant started up again in force. "Here, Pussy Pussy! Here, Pussy Pussy!"

By now, the blonde was standing at the bottom of the steps,
talking to the camera. "You heard it here first, folks!
Dick Life
's own
Horne Shaw
is
suing
Simon Bellerophon! The man responsible for Horne being declared a
dick
could end up being declared a
pussy
."

The crowd roared its approval. Over in the neighbor's yard, the band played a rock version of "What's New, Pussycat?"

Simon grabbed the doorknob, turned it hard left, and threw open the door. As he lunged inside, he heard the blonde try to follow...but he cut her off by slamming the door in her face.

And that was when somebody screamed, and a baseball bat crashed into the wall beside him.