away from Denny. It was just that simple a feat for him to accomplish. His quickness and strength too much for Denny to counter. Denny was left feeling like a small child having his favorite toy abruptly taken from him by an adult.
“Now, don’t go and panic none on me—this is only going to hurt you like a vengeful motherfucker for the short remainder of your life.”
The blood-dripping tailgate to the parking lot lovers’ pickup truck was dropped with a noisome metallic thunk . Denny was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and bent over it. His face was pressed against the rough and dirty metal.
Unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans was never bothered with. Li’l Bocephus simply took hold along one belt loop at the hip area and continued yanking until they were down past Denny’s buttocks. The revealed ass was hopelessly Caucasian, flat and lacking any definition, as white as an uncooked flour tortilla. The medical odor of hemorrhoid cream was released and obvious. Li’l Bocephus permitted the tip of the tire iron to drag over one cheek, drawing a stinging red welt into the skin. So cold and unforgivingly hard.
It seemed like being the victim was bred into Denny Gleeth’s bones. He never protested, never struggled or tried to fight back. He was too scared to do anything. It was high school all over again, and the tough, bigger kids in his third period remedial math class had him cornered behind the gymnasium with nothing to hide behind but his digital Return of the Jedi wristwatch and a copy of an Alan Dean Foster sci-fi paperback.
The vampire leaned in close to Denny’s ear. “Look at you, retard. I know your kind.” His cold as a November morning breath was an absolute abomination, like the stench produced from a backed up septic tank inside a charnel house, and it went over the side of Denny’s face thick as wet paint and seemingly clogging the pores. “Got yourself full of piss and vinegar and puffed up with a sense of courage you never really had to begin with and thinking you can make a difference in the world. Come to save the poor little lady. Ignorant shitball. You’ve been reading too many Batman funny books. All you succeeded in doing was interrupting my supper. And why you wanna do something like that? Don’t you think I have as much right to eat as the next guy, huh? You ain’t got the common sense the Good Lord took the time and effort to give to some dog that spends all day licking its hairy black balls. You must be eager to die, the way you came running up and took a shot on my noggin. Hey now, you in luck—you done come upon the one super tough hombre of the night more than happy to oblige a fuck up such as yourself. I am gonna kill you, bug-eyes retardo. But before I go to work on that voodoo I do so well, I’m going to make sure you’re good and properly vicious nasty humiliated before you get to leave this world. I’m gonna break your spirit like it was made of Legos. Get ready for a pain biblically severe.”
The tire iron’s tip then altered direction, now directly headed for the asshole.
“Get ready to beg me for the sweet relief of death. Never gone and killed me a retard before. Ooo, it’s got me all excited and such. Goddamn, it is opportunities such as this that truly make America the greatest country in the world.”
Denny scrunched his eyes shut and whimpered. The tire iron commenced to invade the cleft of his buttocks. Penetration was now only a second away.
Not twice in one night.
The fist came out of seemingly nowhere and smashed into the side of Li’l Bocephus. It was low on his midsection, between the bottom rib and hip joint and behind the stomach. A sucker punch operating on rocket fuel.
“Sumbitch,” a stunned Li’l Bocephus wheezed as the might of the blow folded him over and sent him off balance and stumbling backwards away from the truck on the heels of his cowboy boots. His hand loosened and fingers uncoiled; the tire iron, glowing in a greasy
“Now, don’t go and panic none on me—this is only going to hurt you like a vengeful motherfucker for the short remainder of your life.”
The blood-dripping tailgate to the parking lot lovers’ pickup truck was dropped with a noisome metallic thunk . Denny was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and bent over it. His face was pressed against the rough and dirty metal.
Unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans was never bothered with. Li’l Bocephus simply took hold along one belt loop at the hip area and continued yanking until they were down past Denny’s buttocks. The revealed ass was hopelessly Caucasian, flat and lacking any definition, as white as an uncooked flour tortilla. The medical odor of hemorrhoid cream was released and obvious. Li’l Bocephus permitted the tip of the tire iron to drag over one cheek, drawing a stinging red welt into the skin. So cold and unforgivingly hard.
It seemed like being the victim was bred into Denny Gleeth’s bones. He never protested, never struggled or tried to fight back. He was too scared to do anything. It was high school all over again, and the tough, bigger kids in his third period remedial math class had him cornered behind the gymnasium with nothing to hide behind but his digital Return of the Jedi wristwatch and a copy of an Alan Dean Foster sci-fi paperback.
The vampire leaned in close to Denny’s ear. “Look at you, retard. I know your kind.” His cold as a November morning breath was an absolute abomination, like the stench produced from a backed up septic tank inside a charnel house, and it went over the side of Denny’s face thick as wet paint and seemingly clogging the pores. “Got yourself full of piss and vinegar and puffed up with a sense of courage you never really had to begin with and thinking you can make a difference in the world. Come to save the poor little lady. Ignorant shitball. You’ve been reading too many Batman funny books. All you succeeded in doing was interrupting my supper. And why you wanna do something like that? Don’t you think I have as much right to eat as the next guy, huh? You ain’t got the common sense the Good Lord took the time and effort to give to some dog that spends all day licking its hairy black balls. You must be eager to die, the way you came running up and took a shot on my noggin. Hey now, you in luck—you done come upon the one super tough hombre of the night more than happy to oblige a fuck up such as yourself. I am gonna kill you, bug-eyes retardo. But before I go to work on that voodoo I do so well, I’m going to make sure you’re good and properly vicious nasty humiliated before you get to leave this world. I’m gonna break your spirit like it was made of Legos. Get ready for a pain biblically severe.”
The tire iron’s tip then altered direction, now directly headed for the asshole.
“Get ready to beg me for the sweet relief of death. Never gone and killed me a retard before. Ooo, it’s got me all excited and such. Goddamn, it is opportunities such as this that truly make America the greatest country in the world.”
Denny scrunched his eyes shut and whimpered. The tire iron commenced to invade the cleft of his buttocks. Penetration was now only a second away.
Not twice in one night.
The fist came out of seemingly nowhere and smashed into the side of Li’l Bocephus. It was low on his midsection, between the bottom rib and hip joint and behind the stomach. A sucker punch operating on rocket fuel.
“Sumbitch,” a stunned Li’l Bocephus wheezed as the might of the blow folded him over and sent him off balance and stumbling backwards away from the truck on the heels of his cowboy boots. His hand loosened and fingers uncoiled; the tire iron, glowing in a greasy
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