Uschi! (32 page)

He looked in one direction at a frozen Uschi, then slowly pivoted his head in another to stare upon current hood ornament Denny. The
Near Dark
castaway couldn’t keep the evil joy off his face. “Well, doesn’t this relax my butthole a considerable share. Titty bitch and retardo done found me. It seems to be my luck has finally gotten up off of its lazy ass and made a turn for the better.”

Denny’s mind overcame his torment and his thoughts focused on the redneck that refused to stay dead.
Here we go from bad, to worse, to somebody setting fire to your favorite porn collection all out miserable.

A few final sucks off the elongated femoral before he dropped the ankle and stepped off the old shithole’s porch. His lower lip was packing Copenhagen and he paused for a moment of recreational spitting, standing casually with thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. Then he had a story he cared to share.

“I bet y’all two thought for sure I was done for, huh? Well, as you now can plainly see, that’s bullshit. No spider could do in Li’l Bocephus. I survived Ga’Hantor’s terrible hunger with but a piffle of trouble. That big bug-boy may not have wanted to be kemo sabe with me, but never, pilgrims, was yours truly down for the count. I knew I’d be coming back; there are more sequels in me than
Star Trek
. Them blustery thunderstorm winds treated me like a plastic Wal-Mart grocery bag let loose on an empty parking lot and blew my husk far and long out amongst the trees. When the flood came, I was already caught up and hooked in the lower branches of a cottonwood. My body at this time could be about as physically active as a toilet brush—no muscles or sinews to work. I could do nothing but watch the water swallow me. Things like me, we don’t drown. But that don’t mean we enjoy being submerged. I was swirled and swished about and thoroughly educated on how it feels to be flushed down the world’s biggest commode, I’ll tell you that right now. From calamity came a positive. Once the waters settled and commenced to recede, I became buried under several feet of sediment. This conveniently protected my sunshine sensitive ass from the daytime, and as I lay under the earth like a black eye pea seed planted in a backyard vegetable garden, my supernatural self set to healing. Just like the times before, everything grew back. Partially eroded bones reformed their natural density, dissolved entrails and muscles and all that other good shit a body needs to be in tip-top form reestablished a hold inside of me and developed back as soundly as it all was at the beginning. By nightfall I was I again. I came up out of the ground and managed to rustle up for the eating a few of these they got VD so bad its attracted bugs people and returned to our little vampire retreat. And here I was all set to take the night off. I was happily gonna treat you two repellent assholes to a night free from my vengeful wrath. I was just gonna hang around these parts and be lazy about things, spend me some time drinking folks and taking it easy. But y’all done been thoughtful enough to come straight to me and I don’t want to be inhospitable and not be wrathful toward y’all. I’ll give you the torturing and killing y’all are wanting. Delighted to oblige.”

“Excuse us, son, but you might need to take a closer look,” said conjoined twin Dusty. A number of brown droplets of drying blood had accumulated in the corners of her mouth; they clustered close together and strongly resembled the scales running down the backside of a dark reptile.

Pandora practiced her fingering on her clarinet as she spoke. “We’re the ones that did all the heavy lifting and have snared these two. And we will be the ones that reap the rewards and will do the killing with them. You get nothing, buckaroo.”

That he did not want to hear. A profound sadness touched Li’l Bocephus’s face. He began to whine and mewl on a grandiose scale. “That’s not fair. Hold the phone and slap granny in the mouth if she should try and talk back, that ain’t one bit of a percentage fair. But for the past three nights these two Twinkies have done nothing to me but treat me wrong and give me misery. That retardo with the eyes and teeth hit me in the head with a tire iron when I wasn’t looking. Blimp tits of the dead likes to eat on parts of me every chance she can get. And they’re butthole enthusiasts; they worked together to homosexualize me in my behind. Come on, don’t y’all do me like that. I have more than earned my revenge. I should get the killings.”

The decision was both theirs, but the voicing of their conclusion was Dusty’s sole task. “Okay, okay, just shut up. We can’t stand to hear you go on like that. You can have the boy. But the girl we want to play with.”

Li’l Bocephus was on the verge of protest, but before a sound could pass his lips the twins used their minds to snap his jaws shut. There was quite the audible enamel slamming against enamel
clack
and a few bubbly gobs of spittle spewed form both mouth corners.

“Don’t argue with us, just say thank you and be glad we’re giving you that much.”

“Thank you,” Li’l Bocephus sullenly mumbled. He made his way to the Cadillac, shoulders low and dragging his feet and ass hanging out of the back of his burnt seatless blue jeans. He joined Denny on the pink hood; the car momentarily rocking as he jumped up and sat beside his mental bonds shackled victim.

The jiggling of Denny’s broken rib had stopped, but the Caddy in motion like that ignited a fresh surge of stabbing agony into the side of him. He cried out for a time. Once it subsided, easing back to a steady and barely at best manageable ache, he looked up at Li’l Bocephus and saw no harm in asking, “If I were to say I was sorry, would that change your attitude about wanting to hurt me any?”

“No.” Li’l Bocephus examined Denny with all the enthusiasm of turning the page on an instruction manual on how to properly operate an oscillating desk fan. Finally he spotted something that intrigued him a hair. “What have you got here on you?”

It was Van Valkenburgh’s lawn mower blade that Denny had taken to carrying sheathed in the left front pocket of his blue jeans. Denny was proud to be in possession of his vampire slaying weapon. He’d named it Van Sloan, after the thespian that portrayed the original movie Abraham Van Helsing.

Li’l Bocephus took hold of Van Sloan by the electrical tape hilt and pulled it loose. He studied it for a moment, then tossed it to the ground. “A something as stupid as you shouldn’t be playing with sharp objects. You’ll cut yourself bad and bleed to death. Silly, retardo, that’s what you got me for.”

Li’l Bocephus put two fingers along the side of Denny’s neck and pinched a plump fold of skin and a portion of the vital jugular vein.

“I’d surely appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that,” Denny squeaked between gasps at how much this was hurting him.

The skin immediately purpled and the circulation compromised artery throbbed at an unhealthy grade. Li’l Bocephus’s mood showed definite improvement as he saw proof of Denny’s suffering on the increase, a twinkle sparking in his eyes and a bit of a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. All he need do now was just barely nick the jugular with the sharp tip of one fang and the little retarded asshole’s unimportant life would squirt out in a high-pressure stream right into his waiting mouth. He began to lean in toward the neck, watering mouth coming open and black and warted tongue wiggling in anticipation of a blood shower.

The sisters thought it, and a frozen like a statue Uschi was brought closer. Her cha-cha shoes dug furrows into the earth as she was hauled just shy of being within reaching out and touching distance of the skull sharing sisters.

It’s Sissy Spacek at the prom, times two. I got to get myself moving and grooving and doing something before I find myself Modern Problems to death.

Uschi resisted the telekinesis stranglehold upon her. The results she managed were positively negligible, like trying to dig her way out from under a mountain. There seemed no hope of her ever-regaining control of her own body again.

Dusty placed her spread wide hands out in front of her chest and made the international symbol for big tits. “You ever wish you had a pair that sizeable?”

“Honestly,” said Pandora, “I don’t believe there isn’t a girl alive in America who hasn’t wondered at one time or another what it would be like to be that top heavy. But, in the end, no, I wouldn’t want to be built like that. I’d feel like a giant, two-legged cow. I get enough attention everywhere we go with just these two little B cups of mine. I had a pair as big as that I’d never have any peace.”

“You’re right. We would be freaks.”

“Okay, we need to make a decision with this thing,” said Pandora. “I’m anxious to massacre her, but I don’t want to do it the same old way we do most people. How creative do we care to get with her?”

“Personally, I’m in the mood for a touch of the ol’ prehistoric,” said Dusty.

“Oh, you imaginative thing you. I believe I know exactly what you have in mind.”

They turned themselves in the direction of the run down two-bedroom, one-bathroom home and kicked their mental powers into high gear. Invisible hands fashioned from their diabolical telekinesis grew gigantic and enveloped the old house, tore it loose from the ground with the screams of rending rotted wood and fracturing cement foundation. As it was elevated high in the air, anything that may have anchored it to mother earth—the dry plumbing pipes and the long without power copper wiring—broke and snapped. Now the unseen hands crushed the house, smashing in all walls, destroying the foundation, collapsing the roof and folding in the flooring, compressing the whole thing up into a ball of ruined housing materials.

Pandora and Dusty’s performance turned into a momentary stay of execution for Denny. When the house went outlaw against gravity’s laws, that was enough to pull Li’l Bocephus’s attention off blood drinking. His fingers released Denny’s throat, skin and artery snapping back into their original condition, and he eased himself off the Caddy and approached for a closer view as the house was demolished.

The home was quickly reformatted and resorted, reassembled into something completely brand new. Towering legs were manufactured from support beam lumber and crumbled rocks of foundation concrete, ending in four-inch long and nasty sharp hardwood floor claws. There came into existence a thirteen-foot-long thrashing tail armor plated in Sheetrock scales the yellowy-pale coloring of the aged and faded pages of an original Mickey Spillane paperback novel. Bathtub stomach and kitchen sink and toilet bowl breasts followed. Three-fingered forelimbs also boasting razor hardwood flooring claws sprouted from the sides, deceptively dainty and weak appearing in contrast to the rest of the assemblage’s gross mass. A mallet-shaped skull was willed into being from warped and tangled pipes and wiring, and then sheathed in a flesh of shattered clapboard walls debris. Every light socket in the house was coerced to pick a team and become bunched together on opposite sides of the head and assume the responsibility of a pair of eyes. Bathroom and kitchen floor linoleum lips pulled back to reveal jagged crossbeam teeth embedded in pink attic heating insulation gums.

The old shithole was reborn into a stomping and teeth gnashing three-story-tall prehistoric Tyrannosaurs Rex.

The tract housing dinosaur moved with the disturbingly smooth stop-motion animation fluidity of a Ray Harryhausen creation. The ground beneath it noticeably trembled with each step it made. It lacked vocal cords or lungs, but still it tossed its enormous head back and simulated bellowing a great and thunderous roar.

“Ain’t this some down home wild and crazy cum gobbling?” said Li’l Bocephus. “I never seen nobody get dinosaur killed before. This ought to be interesting stuff.”

Dusty and Pandora moved Uschi away from them and repositioned her on the other side of the campfire and face to face with their do-it-yourself T-Rex. There’d be no fun in just holding Uschi motionless to that one spot and have the counterfeit thunder lizard easily tear her apart. It needed to be a fight. A rumble tumble worthy of something adventurer David Innes might endure while exploring the inner world of Pellucidar from a lost chapter from
At the Earth’s Core
.

The sisters surrendered their ironclad clasp upon her. She was free, her body her own once more. Even her voice was back in action.

Her spunky attitude was undaunted. A whopper of a grin on her mausoleum natural good looks, she informed in a level and confident everything was going to turn out peachy for her and the one she loved peppy tone, “Time to eat with your ass cheeks, motherfuckers.” Then she licked her thumb, laid said thumb upon her own ass while with her mouth simulated the sound of a sizzling steak. “I’m hot to trot and putting myself in a killing frenzy just for y’all.”

By Pandora and Dusty’s mental commands the Tyrannosaurus Rex extended its neck and lunged forward, its snout rocketing toward Uschi. Huge jaws separated a wide space apart and all those onrushing big as a toy Tonka dump truck pointed wooden teeth seemed hopelessly unavoidable.

But avoidable they were for Uschi, who employed a speed only the devil could bestow upon someone to at just the last second dash to the side and dodge the mouth as it chomped down on where she previously had been standing. She bolted toward one of the T-Rex’s baby forelimbs and used both hands to grab at it and yanked with an awesome ferocity. It snapped off clean and simple. The liberated limb continued to remain quite animate, flexing its copper pipe muscles and wiggling the fingers. As she tossed it aside, its flooring claws were rubbing together and making a noise like a plow blade scrapping over a buried rock.

Uschi found herself with time to assault a foot. In one smooth motion the king-size jugs packing zombie super woman grabbed on to one of the biggest facsimile of a dinosaur toe available to her on the foot in closest reach and wrenched it back and didn’t relent until the wood and cement shattered and the giant digit popped off.

The Home Depot trash dinosaur had no concept of pain, but the unanticipated loss of a pair of body parts did damage its sense of balance. As the sister vampires directed the Tyrannosaurs Rex to whirl its great bulk about too fast and too uncoordinated in an attempt to launch a counter attack, it hopped on one foot while the toe amputated other was comically elevated high, and soon it drunkenly tumbled over onto its side. The pratfall impact with the earth was powerful enough to make the ground momentarily shake like a hull breached ship beginning to sink to the ocean’s bottom. A significant dust cloud swirling around it and legs kicking in futility, it rolled itself onto its belly and right into the campfire.