A picture of all 6 Burnouts books

Tag: Goiter Knight

Curly headed offbeat outcast & close friend of Dakota’s.

  • All Tomorrow’s Parties

    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 what?”

    “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?”

    “Of course!”

    “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?”

    “Say what?”

    “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

    Front Cover for Crimes Seen (book 2)
    Crimes Seen
    (Book II)

    amazon-logo

    Click here for more inane drivel and lascivious behavior – brought to you exclusively by The B.U.R.N.O.U.T.S. Chronicles™

     

  • The Passenger….

     

    The dark, unassuming vehicle pulled over to the side of the highway. The driver leaned over and rolled the passenger window down. “Where you headed?”

    “That way,” Goiter said, pointing north without making eye contact.

    “That way? Huh, what a coincidence, I’m going that way. Get in.”

    The man behind the wheel was Curtis Bolio, originally from Ohio. He was a decent looking, clean-cut white man in his late thirties or possibly mid-forties. It was hard to tell because he was a gym enthusiast and took extremely good care of his body. Curtis had a wife and kids back in Cincinnati, but they weren’t missing him. They weren’t missing him because they were dead; dead because he killed them after raping his son’s buddy in the middle of the night during a sleepover and then stabbing his wife and son to death when they discovered what he had done. It was of no consequence to Curtis Bolio however. He had done this before when he was much younger, to another young lad long before he was married…..before the days of the institution…..and he was eager to do it again….maybe with Goiter, maybe not. Goiter was a bit older than his usual prey, but perhaps he would be a willing participant in gratifying his needs so that Curtis would not have to kill him. He didn’t look forward to the killing aspect of it all, but sometimes it was a necessity in order to keep him out of jail. He did enjoy the raping however; he loved the way they screamed and squirmed and tried to fight back. It aroused him tremendously. In his mind, it was the same tough love that his father had enforced upon him when he was younger; enforced so Curtis would grow up and be tough. Tough enough anyway to hold down a young boy while riding his backside. What an absolutely delicious treat he thought it was, to be rewarded with such a well-deserved pleasure after a usually well-fought battle. The battle of course being the boy’s struggle to get away. And it was the struggle that made it all such great fun; It was the struggle that gave Curtis Bolio the rush of exhilaration he so desired on a daily basis. But how nice it would be if he could just find someone to play the rape game with him on a regular basis so he wouldn’t have to go through the killing process afterward. Curtis Bolio had boys like that but he grew tired of them after a while and had to ‘set them free’. “So what do you say we both go that way together?” he smiled and looked over at Goiter.

    “Wherever. I don’t care. Just get me out of here.”

    “Going through a bad spell?” The man looked over at Goiter and eyeballed his crotch, raising his eyebrows happily as he did. “Growing up isn’t easy, especially when you’re different than everyone else. And that’s the core of it all, isn’t it? You’re different and they don’t understand how to play with you; right?”

    “Something like that,” Goiter nodded his head. “How’d you know?”

    “It takes one to know one.”

    “Know one what?”

    Ignoring his question, the man continued, “But every once in a while we get sent a reminder from God that….you believe in God, don’t you?”

    “Sure…why not? Sounds good.”

    “No why nots about it. He’s here……and he’s queer.”

    “Ha-ha-ha….Huh? Say what?’

    “Never mind.”

    “You were saying something before though.”

    “Right…every once in a while God drops us little reminders to let us know that we’re not alone in our suffering. That there are others who share similar pains and doubts about who we really are and where we’re going. If nothing else, it’s comforting to know that we are never alone in our loneliness.”

    “That’s deep. I know a guy in Norford who talks like that.”

    “Really?”

    “He’s a poet…or a rock musician….or something. Ha! Actually, right now he’s just a drunk. Ha-ha-ha-ha.”

    “You like to laugh. That’s good; it’s good to have a sense of humor. Hold on to it, you’ll need it.”

    “How so?”

    “Hmm.” The man once again ignored his question and stared at the highway ahead, pretending to be thinking long and hard. “You wanna play a game?”

    “A game? Hey man, I ain’t funny like that.”

    “Oh I assure you this isn’t funny.”

    “Oh okay; alright, lay it on me then.”

    “I thought you’d never ask.”

    © 2016 Mark Rogers

    Book Cover for Paradise in Purgatory
    Paradise In Purgatory
    (Book IV)

    amazon-logo

    Click here for more inane drivel and lascivious behavior – brought to you exclusively by The B.U.R.N.O.U.T.S. Chronicles™