Something Wicked This way Comes……
Something Wicked This way Comes……
Something Wicked This way Comes……
Waking to the fuzzy feel of the rapidly fraying silk sheets, her naked curvaceous body intertwined with his and, and more importantly, to the comforting knowledge that he was safe. Safe in her arms; cocooned within a calming sense of belonging, purpose, want, and need; the beat of his heart, once again accompanied with a melody. He was with his true love.
But with all that, came the familiar air of uncertainty. The uncertainty of what she was thinking (and why), or scheming to do next (and when), and then, how long this euphoria would last. But it was his choice, and he knew the plausible consequences. He knew he’d forfeited all control the moment he stepped towards her; yet he stepped anyway. The serpent that was their twisted, masochistic passion for one another had reawakened itself and was cotton-mouthed; thirsty for new blood. And in its unyielding quest to quench the thirst, would lead them both down a long spiraling ride of emotional anguish and sexual nirvana, as only a serpent can be held accountable. Continue Reading
Top Drawing – Bacchanal Of Putti by Nicolas Poussin
Bottom Drawing – Unknown. Originally posted on Sassydog.net
© 2012 Mark Rogers
“Jesus Christ Frank; what the hell happened to you?”
The large group of friends turned and stared at Frank Slates black and blue face with cut marks, as he started to explain, “Well I…”
“Did you get into a fight?”
“You walked into a train?”
“Or an industrial sized fan?”
“Th…the power went off abruptly a-as you were going down an escalator?”
“Imaginative Jack, but no.”
“I have a guess!”
“Calm down, Rizzo!”
“I know what happened,” said the silhouette of a leather capped young man, standing confidently with one foot on The Rock, and lighting a Tijuana Small cigar, looking away, out onto the Brandywine River. “You paid a hooker for some rough sex. She tied you up to the bed, pulled your shirt up, your pants down, then circled the bed like a shark while pounding your body with a soap on a rope. The soap finally broke off and flew across the room; she sat on top of your ankles and went down for a while, bringing you to the brink of orgasm.”
“So far, you’re pretty close.”
“She stopped, stared at you, and laughed sadistically. You wanted to come but you were tied up and there was nothing you could do. She sat on your stomach and slapped you silly on either side of the face with rough open hands. It was then it hit you just how very strong she was for a woman. Then, as if confirming your anxious suspicion, she stood up and pulled her pants down, revealing the largest cock you’d ever seen, and dangled it tauntingly above your head.”
“Ahh, no……that didn’t happen.”
“Yes it did, and furthermore, you still wanted to come; you didn’t care how. So you focused only on her…his…..its…long beautiful blonde hair and smooth tan complexion, an angel from the neck up. You were mesmerized by its beauty to the point where you didn’t even mind the cock now jamming in and out of your mouth. That’s right, you sucked the monstrosity in total bewildering admiration, but you were not sure why.”
“I’m not sure why you’re saying all this.”
“Maybe it was the irresistible cleavage, the smooth hairless legs and firm buttocks, or, perhaps it was just about it all being the largest cock you had ever seen, and you didn’t mind…didn’t mind at all…She….it…did the work for you as it stood on the bed with its hands on its sides thrusting its pelvis, shoving itself in and out of your mouth as the back of your head hit the wall violently, over and over and over again until the thing laughed hysterically and came on your face.”
“Yes, just like that ……………..you were confused…”
“You’re confused; you know that?”
“…humiliated. He ….she…..got up to leave, but you were angry, and, finally managing to break free of the Hoover vacuum belts that had you bound to the bed, you lunged at it with intent to kill…her…him…it….whatever….but you forgot that your pants were still on, down by your ankles at this point, and you tripped and fell, smashing your head through the glass coffee table.”
“Now that part really happened, sort of.”
“Eeeww. Frank, you’re disgusting.”
“You lay on the floor helpless, as the thing looked down on you in seductive victory.” Mahdakis took a drag off his Tijuana. “Then it got weird.”
(inhale-exhale) “Here we go.”
“The beautiful transvestite walked over to the bed-stand and, with all its brute strength, ripped the clock radio out of the wall and tore the cord out from the insides of the device. It then began to whip you with the electrical cord, laughing sardonically as it pulled out a copy of Gideon’s’ Bible and recited passages from Leviticus 18. It finally dawned on you that coming here was probably a bad idea……You defecated yourself and began crying for your mother, and then…..like a phantom, she exited the room, presumably leaving you for dead…or worse………. alone…to die in your own excrement, blood, and semen.”
“None of that ever happened! This isn’t true,” Frank pleaded for a moment of sanity.
“Then…..” the silhouetted figure continued.
“There’s even more?” –Bobble-bobble-bobble “Someone shut him the fuck up, will ya.”
“The chamber maid came in.”
“Now we’re talkin’. Ha-ha.”
“Goiter, shut up and stop rubbing your palms together,” a voice said. “That’s very disturbing.”
“Shut up! I wanna hear how it ends.”
“….But it wasn’t really a chamber maid. It was an FBI agent who had been working undercover as a chamber maid for the better part of six months, trying to bust up a heroin ring, headed by the owner of the hotel. Frank wasn’t part of the plan, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I wasn’t at any place at any time. Where you getting’ all this from?”
“….And the FBI agent, well, he was just being a chamber maid.”
“Yes…he was undercover as a she, and he saw you lying there, Frank; bleeding and helpless. But there was no time. The agent had just been made by one of the dealers. He needed to get out of the building…..and fast! So he swapped clothes with you, taking his wig off his head and putting it on yours, then he boogied out of the room, and ultimately, the building.”
“Is that it?”
“The dealer busted into the room and saw you lying on the floor in a wig and a chamber maid outfit and smashed the butt end of his rifle against your ear before realizing that he had the wrong cross-dresser……
“I’m not a cross-dresser.”
“….But, being one to always seize the moment, the drug dealer eagerly unbuttoned his pants. He pulled out his…….”
“Alright….we get it!”
“Fuckin’ aye, dude. Take a valium.”
“And THAT is what happened to Frank.” Mahdakis puffed on his cigar.
“That was my guess,” Rizzo said, “I was going to say the same thing.”
© 2012 Mark Rogers
What the fuck man, let me in!” Jason demanded, standing on the third stair from the top, pushing on the door to Snowy’s room, which was above his grandparent’s garage. “Stop horsing around, Snowy, or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll…..”
“You’ll suck my dick! What the fuck are you doing here anyway? You’re supposed to be here tomorrow,” Snowy said, pushing back on the door from the other side.
“Tomorrow? Yeah, right. But the real party is going on tonight. Good thing I got my ear to the ground.”
“And I’m gonna put your face to the ground, with it, if you don’t stop pushing this fuckin’ door! Now, come back tomorrow.”
“What the fuck is this? Come back tomorrow? Are you joking around or something?”
“Does it look like I’m joking?” Snowy said, grabbing a broom and shooing him away, like an oversized rodent. “Now get down the stairs motherfucker, and come back tomorrow! This is the only way I could do it. You’re ruining everything!”
“I’m ruining everything? What’s tomorrow? Get that thing away from me.”
“There’s not much room in here, Jason, so I had to throw the party in shifts. One group of friends tonight, and one tomorrow; all different people; one’s that you and I know from way back.”
“But, why can’t I just stay here now and not come tomorrow?”
“Because, there will be too many people up here.”
“So, the Fire Marshall may come and shut us down, or something.”
“Shut you down? Fire Marshall? Have you lost your mind?”
“No. Besides, if you don’t come tomorrow, like I asked, I won’t have any one cool to hang out with?”
“Why did you invite un-cool people to begin with?”
“I was gonna ask the same thing,” said Rizzo, from inside the room.
“Rizzo!” Boodles yelled walking through the door and past Snowy, without a problem.
“So, I have to hang out with the un-cool people?”
“Stop your sobbin’ before I snap you in half.”
“Yeah, right. C’mon, man. Rizzo’s here.”
“Yeah, and do you know why she’s here? Because I asked her to come tonight, like I asked you to come tomorrow night. You don’t see her showing up last night at my house do you, slim? No, she show’s up when she’s asked because that’s the respectful thing to do, and not show up unannounced like a Kirby fuckin’ vacuum salesman!”
“Fine. Sorry about that. I’ll come tomorrow so you have someone cool to hang with. But I’m here now, so let’s hang now, as well.”
“Hey, can we come again tomorrow?” Pablo asked in an instigating manner.
Snowy got into Jason’s face and said, “See what you’re doing? If you come both days, then he’s gonna wanna come both days, and Rizzo will have to come both days, then everyone’s gonna wanna come both days, and pretty soon it’ll be fuckin’ anarchy. Look at these people in here, you’re getting them all riled up.” Jason looked in at Pablo, Rizzo, Cannoli, and Jack sitting peacefully and talking softly among themselves. “You’re about to incite a riot. If you don’t go, I’ll be forced to call the authorities!”
“Ha! What are you gonna tell ’em, ‘Hey officer, there’s this crazy guy at my cocaine party, and he won’t leave.’ Huh? Fine……Boodles, let’s go.”
“I wanna stay,” she yelled from inside.
“We can’t! The Grand Pooh-Bah of Parties is kicking us out.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Boodles whined.
“You’re fine,” Snowy assured. “HE has to go, though.”
“Say what? She’s fine? She can stay but I can’t? She wasn’t even invited. How much of that shit have you had so far?”
“But she was your ride, right?”
“That’s fine. I allotted for most people to come with a person who would be their ride. But she can’t come tomorrow, too. You’ll have to drive yourself tomorrow or find someone else to take you, someone who isn’t here tonight.”
Jason stared in disbelief and poked his finger hard on Snowy’s chest. “Fine, but this is some fucked up shit, and I’m not going to forget it. Boods! C’mon, I need a ride back to my house, apparently.”
“Take Dakota if you’re leaving, unless you can find a ride later.” Snowy looked at the saucy longhaired brunette in the tight jeans.
“I’m coming back,” Boodles informed him.
“No you’re not. Once you leave you can’t come back.”
“Say what? Why not?”
“Because you’re HIS ride, and that’s the only reason you’re allowed to stay, and she wasn’t invited without Carl, so she has to leave with you, unless someone gives you a ride later on.” He looked at Dakota.
“Okay. I can get a ride later. Pumpkinhead is coming, right?”
“Far as I know.”
“I’m staying,” Dakota said confidently, walking into the room, and plopping herself and her purse down, next to Cannoli and Jack Carrot.
“Well, I don’t wanna go,” said Boodles, as Pumpkinhead came walking up the stairs, behind Jason.
“Okay, stay here,” Snowy said, pushing her back in and addressing Pumpkinhead with his eyes. “Dude, stay right there.”
“Yeah, what’s up man?”
“Can you give Jason a ride back home? He’s not feeling himself tonight.”
“Ahh man, what a rash. I just got here, dude. Can’t we chill for a minute?”
“No,” said Jason sarcastically, “because once you’re in, you can’t leave and come back…those are the rules.”
Goiter, who had been standing behind Pumpkinhead laughed and said, “Can’t we get some sort of ticket stub? Ha-ha-ha.”
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
“I thought you were coming alone.”
“I saw him hitchhiking on the road. He had nothing to do.”
“So why does he have to do nothing here? Why couldn’t he do nothing somewhere else?” (inhale-exhale) “You just don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you, Pumpkinhead?”
“What the fuck, man?”
“Fine.” (exhale) “But you’ll have to stand outside, under the tree. There’s no more room for anyone in here.”
“There’s only five people in there!”
“Can you give this joker a ride back, or not? Dude, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“What are you going to do,” asked Goiter, “give him a blow job? Ha-ha-ha.”
“I’m gonna crack you in the fuckin’ head, is what I’m gonna do!”
“Alright man, let’s go.” Pumpkinhead motioned to Jason.
“Hang on…Boodles, come here for a minute.”
“C’mon man, let’s go.” Pumpkinhead said impatiently. “You wanna come, Goiter?”
“Might as well, I’m in no big hurry to start standing under a tree all night.”
© 2012 Mark Rogers
“This is bullshit, Frank! What the fuck do we need Carl and Floyd for, anyway? Huh? Wanna tell me that?”
“I dunno, I’m just tellin’ you what I heard from Floyd. I guess your brother feels sorry for them and wants to give them some sort of a job by lettin’ them help out with the band.”
“Fuck ‘em! We are the road crew! Not them!”
“I thought you and Floyd were really tight these days.”
“Not when the prick’s cutting in on my action, yo! Christ, neither of them even owns a vehicle.”
“So what’s that gonna do? We got just as much stuff to carry around in the same number of cars, and two more people to find room for!”
“Yep. I know. I think maybe he just feels sorry for them you know, living out on the streets and whatnot.”
“Bullshit, man! Floyd slept at my house last week while my brother slept out on the street with Carl. What the hell’s he talking about?”
Frank took a chug of Budweiser. “I don’t know about that. Floyd says they haven’t seen Mahdakis much this past week.”
“Well, he sure the hell ain’t stayin’ down at Pock’s and Dakota’s.”
“Dakota’s not even staying at Pock’s and Dakota’s. Huh-huh-huh-huh. Hey, ya know…that’s right. We been there every night, and ain’t seen him but for rehearsal.”
Pumpkinhead took a big long drag off a joint. “Haven’t seen him once, dude.”
“Well where is he, then?”
Pumpkinhead exhaled with exaggeration, “I don’t know. He’s into girls, I know that.”
“And what are you into?”
“I am too, asshole! But he likes to play house, if you get my drift!”
“That’s kind a gay. But you know what? You got an attitude problem. What’s with being so hyper all the time?”
“I’m not! I’m just an expressive person!”
“Well, express the fuck down, then.”
Pumpkinhead took another long hit and scrunched his eyebrows together. “Where the fuck is he staying at night, I wonder.”
“Someone said they saw him walking in Old Norford, the other night.”
“You think he’s back with Jezebel?”
“It would explain his presence there….Copper Tom lives there too, but I doubt he’d be visiting him.”
“Why does Mahdakis hate him so much?”
“Probably because Copper Tom’s a fuckin’ asshole, that’s why!”
“He wouldn’t be such an asshole if your brother wasn’t always yelling at him.”
“MY BROTHER YELLS AT HIM BECAUSE HE’S A FUCKIN’ COKE ADDICTED, GOOD FOR NOTHING, DEGENERATE PIECE OF SHIT; THAT’S WHY!”
“Don’t fuckin’ yell at me. I’ll pick you up by that giraffe neck of yours and fling you into the river.”
“I’ll mess you up, dude!”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha! I’ll squish that pumpkin head of yours until your brains fall out your eye sockets!”
“Yeah, you wish.”
“Huh-huh-huh-huh. That’s it? That’s all you got?”
“For now,” Frank repeated, “oh well, you know what?”
“At least it’s better than sleeping on the streets with Carl and Floyd.”
“Your brother…..with Jezebel, or whoever he’s with.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s her, dude. She really pissed him off last time. He was real hurt and shit, but hey, fuck him and Carl and Floyd! What’s up with that? Why the hell don’t they just go home and sleep?”
“Because they’re not allowed to. Huh-huh, Remember?”
“That’s a bunch of shit, dude. My female-birth-giver’s always crying at night because that asshole won’t come home half the time, or call to say where he is. Carl and Floyd, same thing. Ask Kim if you don’t believe me. They just want people to think that they’re on hard times so they have justification to be idiots. All it is, is a way of validating their own laziness and lack of motivation, thereby giving them an excuse to accomplish nothing.”
“Wow. That’s a concept, right there,” Frank said, staring out at the Brandywine River, “I mean, that’s pretty ingenious.”
“Ingenious? Are you smoking crack?”
“No. I’m the same way as them, but I have no excuse for the way I am…….Wish I had thought of that. Huh.”
“Frank,” Pumpkinhead said cautiously, “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything, but you’re a little……slow….sometimes, brother. You don’t need an excuse.”
Frank turned his head towards Pumpkinhead and the two of them sat on The Rock staring at one another until Frank started laughing uncontrollably. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-! Ha-ha! That’s what I want people to think! Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Huh? Are you serious? Why?”
“I guess to validate my uh, lazy…….whatever it is you said. Huh-huh-huh. And to get people to feel sorry for me sometimes. Girls dig it, too.”
“Oh.” Pumpkinhead sat stupefied. “So you’ve no reason to feel envious of them, Frank. You got your own gig going on.”
“That’s right.” Frank lit up a Marlboro and took a long drag. “Now…….let’s talk about this accident that Carl and Floyd are going to have.”
© 2012, 2014 Mark Rogers
After finally securing her right leg to the bedpost with a towel, Tony went to the dresser drawer, pulled out a roll of duct tape, and proceeded to cut off a seven-inch piece, “I’m tired of your mouth, already. Try this, you bitch!”
Tony walked over to the bed where Nicki was screaming, “No! No! No! Don’t! Please, No! I can’t breathe! I’ll hyperventilate!”
“Too bad, bitch!” Tony quickly applied the tape over her mouth.
Nicki lay on the bed flailing her naked flabby body around; her left leg trying to kick him away, “Mmm! Mmm! Mm-mmmmmm!!”
The smoke alarm started going off, “Shit!” Tony quickly cuffed her left leg to the post, “I forgot about the pasta on the stove. I’ll be back!”
“Mm-mm?” she mumbled as Tony turned and ran downstairs to the smoky kitchen.
Tony returned, holding a large pot of steaming lasagna noodles, which he set down on the dresser, “I hope you like butter,” he said, taking one of the hot noodles out of the pot and dangling it in the air, allowing the hot butter to drip on her naked body.
“Yeah, Mm-mm…yummy, right?”
“Okay. Okay, I won’t make you wait any longer. Here, take this,” and then Tony thrashed her several times with the hot, wet, buttery lasagna noodle on her torso.
“Mmm!!! Mmm! Mmm!!!!”
“Yeah…mm-mm. You want some more, huh?” Tony walked over to the steaming pot and yanked out another noodle in which to torture her with.
“Yeah…..I know…You got an appetite for sausage too. I haven’t forgotten.” Tony began yanking on his penis while he whipped her with the noodle on her inner thigh and the sides of her ass, butter splashing everywhere upon impact of her body . Nicki tried to scream through the duct tape as he whipped her with more noodles, over and over again; all the while frantically masturbating.
As if all this wasn’t enough for the helpless young woman, she was to be further traumatized when five police officers came crashing through the bedroom door, as she lay on the bed with her glory wide open for all to see, and watched them tackle Tony Ravioli. “FREEZE YOU FUCKER!”
“DOWN ON THE GROUND! GET DOWN!”
“I GOT HIM, JOE. I GOT HIM! CHRIST THIS FUCKER’S HAIRY….YUCK!” the uniformed officer yelled, spitting something out of his mouth.
“GET OFF ME! WHAT THE FUCK’S GOING ON AROUND HERE?”
Officer Roy drew his weapon and pointed it at Tony, “Don’t move. You’re under arrest for kidnapping, sexual assault, stalking, endangerment, vandalism, trespassing, and all kinds of odious charges.”
“WHAT THE FUCK DOES ODIOUS MEAN?”
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you ……”
© 2012, 2014 Mark Rogers
Sometimes you can fuck a person every day of the week and never know a thing about them. Other times, you can know everything about a person except what they’re like when they’re getting off.
There’s a reason for this.
If we knew what our best friends were like behind the bedroom door, we wouldn’t be best friends with them anymore, or in the first place.
Fact is, one never knows a person inside and out until they’ve seen how that person’s insides pop out while their outsides are going in. But how can you possibly know you don’t know the person you think you know?
It’s that one little thing that you’ll never know. And it’s most likely for the better. As a case in point, let’s take Mahdakis and Tony; if either one had any inclination of what the other was up to when his pants were off, neither one would have an ounce of respect for the other…..and with damn good reason.
He was on his bed, sitting up right with a pillow between his back and the wall. Nicki subserviently, held a joint to his mouth while he inhaled a hit and blew it back out in her face.
“Asshole,” she said playfully. Then she took a hit off the joint herself and as she held it in said, “You wanna fuck before we go to this party, or what?”
“Sure. Why not? You wanna know what I was thinking though?”
“What were you thinking?” she said snuggling close to Tony Ravioli.
“I was thinking of tying you up.”
“Ha-ha…. alright, I’m into that.”
“And spraying white stuff all over your body.”
“I’m into that, too!”
“Fine. Get naked, I’ll be right back.”
As Nicki undressed, Tony made his way downstairs towards the kitchen. When he returned to the bedroom, Nicki lay completely naked on his bed, her chunky body pouring off the sides like pancake batter. Noticing the tray of food in his hand she said, “What are you going to do, eat while you fuck me?”
“Something like that. I got the munchies.”
“Well, I got something you can munch on. You don’t need all that.”
“Fine. Let’s tie your ass up to the bed rails first though.”
Nicki smiled and obliged him. She held her arms up in the air without resistance while he tied bandanas around her wrists and then the other end of the bandanas to either bedpost.
“Oooh, am I supposed to start screaming for help now? Help. Help me,” she laughed.
“Easy! Not so tight. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“There,” he said triumphantly, “now we’re ready to munch on some meat,” he smirked as he got up and turned around to the plate of food he brought up and, with his back facing her said, “What about you? You hungry? Want some meat?”
Not sure what he had in mind, but willing to play along, she said, “Sure lay some meat on me, big boy.”
“I like mayonnaise with mine. You?”
“I like anything white and sticky,” she said, giggling nervously.
“Good,” Tony said, and quickly turned around and began hurling spoonfuls of mayonnaise at her naked torso. “Then you’ll love this, cunt! Ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!”
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? Cut the shit!!”
Tony threw mayonnaise at her for a minute or so as she struggled to get free from the tight bandanas, her legs flailing in the air. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? Get me out of here, Tony! Now!”
“Fuck that! I wanna eat……NOW!” with that, Tony then jumped on top of her and began spreading the mayonnaise on her body with his bare hands, as if he were greasing a watermelon.
“What the….Man, you’re into some bizarre shit, motherfucker,” Nicki said, as she watched him lather her up with Hellman’s. “I hope you plan to lick it all off, now.”
“I’m gonna eat it!”
“Even better, let’s just get this ritual of yours over with. My God, this is some wacked out crap.”
Tony walked across the room and picked up the tray, which had an assortment of cold cuts on it. “What the hell?” she yelled.
“It’s meat! Here! Have some fucking meat, bitch!” and then began whipping slices of salami, bologna, and ham at her mayonnaise-lathered body.
“Holy shit, man! What the fuck is the matter with you?!! Get me out of here! Help!”
“You said to lay it on you! Well, I’m laying it on you now, cunt!” Tony kept throwing the meat at her, which of course would stick to the mayonnaise if it landed flat enough. Some of it adhering to gravity and peeling itself off her body after a few seconds, but there was so much being thrown at her, that she was covered after only a minute.
She continued yelling, screaming, and tugging at the bandanas, but to no avail. “Anthony, this isn’t funny, or erotic! I’m afraid! Please stop!!”
“I’m afraid too,” he said, standing over by the food tray again; and lifting up his arm, he resumed to his throwing. “I’m afraid I forgot the cheese!!! HA-HA!” But the cheese wasn’t sticking so well because of the fact that her body was already covered with meat product. He needed more adherent. “Here! You need some of this!” he said, running up to her and viciously spraying her entire body with mustard.
“Stop! You fuckin’ dick! Stop!!”
“Ya like Gulden’s? Mmm. I do! It’s spicy! Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Fuckin’ asshole! You’re getting it in my hair! Stop! Stop it, Anthony!! Please!”
After running out of meat and dairy products, he jumped on top of the bed so his knees held her ankles down. “Ow! That hurts!”
“Where is this coming from? What the hell did I do?……Shit….. what the fuck?”
Tony had pulled it out of his pants and was proceeding to masturbate on top of her. “Here! This is some of the chef’s special sauce! It makes the entire meal! You’ll love it!”
While very afraid and disturbed by his entire display of madness, Nicki still couldn’t help but let out some hysterical laughter.
“Ah, so you think it’s funny, huh bitch? How funny is this?” and then he ejaculated on the only clean area of her body…….her face. “There!……….Now I’m done.”
“Thank God,” she said, lapping it away from her lips. “And what’s the matter, you too fuckin’ lazy to cut up a little lettuce and tomato?”
© 2012, 2014 Mark Rogers
Mahdakis stepped into the laundry mat, that Floyd and Carl had recently made their temporary sleeping quarters since being kicked out of their homes. “A little conspicuously bright for sleep, wouldn’t you say, Carl?”
“Yeah? Go back outside then.”
“It’s freezing out there.”
“Right, but in here?”
“It’s like a sauna, quite frankly.”
“We got half the dryers going, that’s why,” Carl said proudly. “Brain power.”
Floyd spoke from the rear of the mat where he stood folding clothes on a table, “I won thirty dollars in change playing poker with Squid,”
“Ah. And why not sleep here, instead of getting one of those rooms at the Motor Inn for nineteen ninety-nine, and having a few bucks to spare, right?”
“We didn’t want anyone to think we were gay,” Floyd said, placing a lace negligee on a hanger.”
“You’re still hell bent on keeping it a secret, are you?” Mahdakis looked at Floyd, who swiftly moved on to folding some silk panties,
Carl, finally noticing what Floyd was doing in the back of the laundry mat said, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What does it look like, Johnny-Boy? Folding clothes.”
“Where did you find them? And cut the shit with that Johnny-Boy crap.”
“Whose are they?” Mahdakis asked.
“I don’t know. They were just sitting in here.” Floyd motioned to the dryer.
“So you’re folding them?”
“Well…..yeah……they’re gonna wrinkle otherwise.” Then, mumbling to himself, Floyd uttered, “Ooh, that spot’s not coming out.”
So dude, where you been?” Carl said to Mahdakis.
“Hee-hee-hee-hee!” Floyd laughed from the rear of the mat. “Jesus Christ, will ya look at these?”
“Ahh! Man!” was Carl’s reaction to the pair of skid marked encrusted cotton underwear that Floyd held in the air like a trophy.
“I didn’t think women did this sort of thing. Hee-hee-hee-hee. These things are ruined. Why even bother. Fuck it.” Floyd threw them into the trash basin.
“Fuck this; let’s go grab a bite to eat.”
“Cool,” Floyd said, and placed the basket gently back down on the bench, as he then began scribbling something on a napkin. “Just give me a minute here. I’m gonna leave this person a note.”
“To let ’em know you make house calls?”
“Nah, nothin’ like that……Okay, let’s go,” Floyd said, laying the note on top of her basket and rushing out the door just behind Carl and Mahdakis. He paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder. “You got to wonder what kind of person just throws a load of clothes in a dryer in the middle of the night and leaves them there.”
Kelly Pierce was that kind of person. And she filed a report with the police, which, in turn, spawned an investigation by the Norford Police Department, spearheaded by Police Commissioner Stromboli.
Commissioner Stromboli re-read the last part of the letter aloud, “Floyd……..Floyd…..What do you suppose that means, Darryl?”
“Arr. You don’t tink it’s just his name?”
“Hell no! No one is that stupid. This is code for something, an acronym of some sort. Something gang related or………maybe having to do with the mafia!” The Commissioner rubbed his chin. “What was that guy’s name in The Godfather?….Hmm, never the mind, we have to figure out what this FLOYD thing stands for. It’s our only clue.”
“Found Loitering On Your Doorstep?”
“Don’t be daft! What kind of nonsense is that? Besides, isn’t Doorstep two words?”
“I do believe it’s one, sir.”
“Fetch a dictionary.”
“Sir!” a voice yelled coming up the precinct stairwell. “Commissioner!”
Commissioner Stromboli and Officer Darryl turned to see Officer Roy scurrying, up the stairs with Rookie Rick. “Officer Roy, what’s the trouble?”
Roy looked at the rookie cop. “Tell him what you heard.”
“Well, this morning I overheard John, the night watchman, talking to one of the construction workers on the job site. Apparently, every Thursday night before work, John stops around the corner at Cassel’s Wash & Dry on Third, and throws his laundry in the machine. Then, on his break, throws it into the dryer. He goes back to his post, works the rest of his shift, and picks it up in the morning on his way home. But this time when he returned to the mat…”
“Don’t tell me………..his clothes were folded!”
“Not only that, sir. But someone left him a note.”
“Jiminy Cricket, sir!”
“What kind of note?”
Roy pulled the note from his breast pocket, and unfolded it. “It just says, ‘You owe me, Johnny-Boy.’.”
“Meaning the Night Watchman, John.”
The Commissioner looked puzzled and frightened for a moment as he stared at his reflection in the sparkling clean, precinct floor and gave thought. “Did he sign the note, Roy?”
“Nope. Not this time. And so far as we can tell, there’s no relation to either of the victims.”
The commissioner whipped off his glasses. “Dear God in heaven! Twice in three days; what kind of diabolical, twisted malcontent are we dealing with, here?”
“I don’t know commissioner, but anyone sick enough to go through other people’s clothes, well…”
“They’re capable of anything……Roy? Darryl? I want you two to add an extra cruiser at night and start canvassing areas near any laundry mats. Start within the vicinity of these last two.”
“We’ll find this demented, clothes-folding son of a bitch sicko if it’s the last thing we do.”
© 2012, 2014 Mark Rogers
Captain H sat in a booth in the far corner of the Barely Bagels restaurant with his back to the wall, facing the front, and side entryways. His thick dark frame studying Mahdakis with bewildering interest as he picked a small clear bag up off the table. “What is it?”
“You’re the expert. You tell me.”
Captain H put his thick finger inside the tiny baggie with his black eyes darting every which way, and then tasted the white powder it contained. After a savory moment, he looked at Mahdakis with wide eyes. “Where did you get this?”
“I can’t tell you where it came from, directly. I don’t want to put two people at odds with each other over a harmless buy. That’s not important. What I thought might be important to you, was the fact that they were able to buy this in the first place, and right here under your nose.”
“Someone’s dealing my territory then, huh?”
“And without even setting foot on our soil.”
“He’s got a runner?”
“Sure does. There’s a middleman who runs back and forth, across the river, at a moment’s notice, to make these deals.”
“Do you know who that is?”
“Not only do I know, but I can tell you his name, address, and who he dates. You know why?”
“Because he’s from our side of the bridge…It’s Some Other Old Dude.”
“Mm-hm…and you think Some Other Old Dude’s a defector, or an asshole double agent?”
“What I know is when and where his next drop is going to be. I thought maybe, being the professional you are, you’d like to talk to this enthusiastic entrepreneur yourself, you know, face to face like.”
“You thought right, Mahdakis my boy. So what’s your take? You want in on some of the action?”
“I need a favor in exchange for the info.”
“I’m all ears, Mahdakis,” he said, putting his tea down.
Captain H listened intently to the scheme that Mahdakis and Boodles had come up with, while daintily dunking his tea bag and taking an inquisitive sip every once in a while. When Mahdakis finished, Captain H sat still for a moment, absorbing everything, and then said reassuringly, “A charity fundraiser against gang violence, huh?”
“Well, after further consideration, Boodles and I thought it a more lucrative idea to make it a charity to help get kids off drugs, and maybe the gang violence thing, a secondary cause. I mean seriously, how much gang violence do we get here in Delaware? Sponsors are more likely to donate to a cause that affects them directly, like their children being hooked on something or another.”
“You want me to get their children hooked on drugs so they’ll support the charity event, is that it?”
“Mm…No. No, but that’s not a bad idea. Maybe we should stuff that in our pocket and save it for a rainy day.”
Captain H took another precarious sip of his tea then shoved a small plate in front Mahdakis. “Crumpet?”
“No thanks; I’m good.”
“You’re foolish, you know.”
“You don’t think this plan can work?”
“Oh I think it can work……but this lemon curd topping is quite a delectable little treat. You really don’t know what you’re missing.” Captain H took another bite, and, while wiping his hands on a napkin, continued, “So, let me see if I got this perfectly clear; this bogus anti-drug/anti-gang violence charity fundraiser is to be partially financed through the profits of a cocaine heist that will most likely cause two rival gangs to butt heads and spill blood into the streets?”
“You’re alright, Mahdakis, I like the way you think, you know that? Are you sure you don’t want a job? Maybe a front office type thing?”
“Let’s see how the music thing works out first.”
© 2012, 2014 Mark Rogers
It was a night just like any other night; a night of good times, a night of bad times, but mostly just a night of times. It was a night to remember, but moreover, a night to forget. It was a night of endless ribbing and poking at one another’s blemishes and shortcomings, a night of mundane inebriation and quick fixes, another night of bonding amongst futile friends and worthy adversaries; another night of explosive mediocrity.
It was the last night of the season that anyone would hang at The Rock, and also the last time that many of these people would be together as a group at The Rock. December was rushing in its cold winds and, with most everyone having a car now, there was less of a need to assemble at this particular place anymore; at least during the winter months. While The B.U.R.N.O.U.T.S. were still under age to drink at bars, they could safely meet at any number of the parks in the Norford area and drink there.
For those who went, The Rock had been a source of nirvana, an escape from everyday troubles, a place to call their own and to hide from the world; regardless of the fact that the world was sometimes less than fifteen-hundred feet away. And, except for the one time, no parents or cops ever came to The Rock and, except for an occasional canoe or kayaker….and Moon, there was never any other signs of humanity at The Rock. It was their safe zone, and would forever be remembered as a peaceful haven in their memories.
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© 2012, 2014 Mark Rogers