Zeb and Enus jumped out, the latter carrying the Styrofoam cooler.
The men lowered their weapons, but still held them at their hips, just in case.
“What you boys bring us?” asked the one in the newer looking overalls.
“Sorry Dad,” said Enus. “It was a bad night.”
“Whatya mean it was a bad night,” asked the other, much older gun-toting man.
Zeb lowered his head and answered his Grandfather. “We killed another one.”
Both men lowered their barrels to the ground and simultaneously spit out streams of ugly, brown tobacco juice.
Enus shuffled forward and opened the cooler. Within, lay a steaming black heart, their latest ingredient.
His father glanced inside and jerked his head behind him. Through the trees, Enus saw the intricate pipes and pots of the family still. The contraption hummed and rattled as heated air created the Whitmire family’s special moonshine.
“That’s a big one,” said the boy’s father, inspecting the heart.
“I’m getting sick of the taste, though. Bloodsucker Special used to be a hot seller. Now it’s like that Coca-Cola crap. Everybody drinks it,” said the Grandfather.
Circus Clowns and Elephant Cracks
by David Whitman
“My god do I hate fucking clowns,” Judd said, sipping his Budweiser from a Styrofoam cup, already feeling quite drunk. How they had managed to get him to the circus in the first place, he had already forgotten.
“That’s because you’re afraid of them,” Max snickered.
Judd snorted. “Yeah right. They annoy the hell out of me, that’s why. Look at that one with the blue hair. He keeps looking at me and beeping his horn. He does it one more time, I’m going to go down there and stick that fucking horn up his ass.”
Kenny Joe studied the clown as if imagining the scene Judd had described, a big, goofy grin brightening his chubby face as he brought the beer cup away from his lips. The foam made his van dyke mustache look gray. “That would be funny as shit if you started a clown riot, bro.”
“I must agree,” Bailey said, giggling like a child at the antics of the clowns.
The clown with the blue hair shot a cocky glance up at Judd, held his horn in the air, and tooted it three times.
“Oh my god, that’s it,” Judd said, leaping up from his seat and climbing down the bleachers, fists clenched tightly to his side.
“Go on, beat that clown’s ass!” Kenny Joe screamed after him.
Max was excited. “I can’t believe he’s really going to do it!”
Judd got to the bottom, jumped over the small gate, and threw himself upon the clown. The other clowns, as if sensing their comrade in trouble, ran to his aid, leaping into the kaleidoscopic pile one after another.
Soon, Judd was entangled in what appeared to be some sort of clown insect, gigantic shoes and rainbow colored gloves jutting and shifting around in every direction, a cloud of dirt balled around them like an insanely drawn cartoon.
Max, Kenny Joe and Bailey might have helped had they not been literally rolling out of their seats in laughter. The sight of their good friend getting his ass beat by a gang of clowns was just too much for them to bear. Kenny Joe found it particularly delightful, his big belly shaking up and down convulsively as he roared so hard he could not breathe. Other spectators also found it amusing, judging by the barrage of hilarity erupting around the ring.
Judd felt as if every multicolored fist that slammed into his face was accompanied by a laugh track.
After a five-minute beating, the clowns heaved Judd out of the ring where he fell hard, gasping in pain. The clown with the blue hair leaned over Judd, honked his horn three times, and ran back to join his colorful comrades.
A portly security guard waddled up to Judd, leaned forward and said, “I would arrest your sorry ass, but I’d say what just happened to you was punishment enough.” He shook his head and walked away.
Judd closed his eyes and wished he would die. When he opened them again, his friends were standing around him in a circle.
“Oh my fucking God, that was funny,” Max said.
“I must agree,” Bailey added, nodding his head.
“‘I’m going to go down there and stick that horn up his fucking ass,’” Kenny Joe said, imitating Judd’s voice, then falling back and erupting into giggles.
Judd struggled to his feet and pointed at each of his friends. “Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you. Get me out of this tent.”
By the time they made their way back outside Judd’s mood had improved considerably. They bought some more beer and walked around taking in some of the sites of the circus. The Butler brothers lost twenty bucks each trying to toss a basketball through a hoop while Max and Judd ate corn dogs.
“Max,” Judd said solemnly as they walked, his face still swollen from his beating. “Do you think things will ever turn around for me, man?”
“You take things too seriously, Judd. You just know when we’re two old bastards, sitting on the porch drinking whiskey we’ll be laughing at this shit.”
Judd smiled, then winced as his bleeding lips cracked. “The way things are going, I ain’t gonna make it to be no old man. I agree with you, though, on one thing. This shit is probably be gonna be a lot funnier after some years go by.”
Max snickered. “I think it’s funny now, man. You just got your ass beat by a clown posse. Publicly, I might add.”
Judd sighed wearily and then offered a twisted smile. “I know. I swear my life is one long beating.”
They came upon a large enclosed area with four elephants. Kenny Joe grunted when he got a whiff of the elephant shit and covered his nose. Bailey commented that dog shit was a much worse smell, but that elephant shit had a sweeter scent, with a touch of tang. Judd just looked at the both of them, knowing he would fall over in shock if they ever had a conversation that was above the level of a mountain cretin. Each elephant had a leather harness and was giving rides to small children from one side of the area to the next.
“Man, I’d pay money to see Judd riding an elephant,” Kenny Joe said as he stared at the beast with just a hint of fear. He took a long sip of his beer to chase away his jitters.
Judd tossed his empty beer cup into the garbage. “Oh really? And how much money would you pay?”
“Twenty bucks.”
Judd waited a few seconds, but barely had to think about it. “Okay, but only if Max will ride with me.”
After a little bit of negotiating they walked over to purchase a ticket. The ticket seller, an acne-ridden teenager with an “It’s Miller time!” hat, stared at Judd suspiciously. “Ain’t you a little old to be ridin’ elephants? This ride is for children.”
Judd glared at the teen. “Listen, fucknut. I just got an assbeating by a dozen clowns in front of an audience, and I’ll be goddammned if I’m gonna take any lip from a zit-faced kid in a fucking Miller beer hat.”
Bailey agreed. “Obviously, Budweiser would have been a better choice.”
The teenager studied the men for a few seconds, swallowing apprehensively. “Okay, that’ll be five bucks. I could get in trouble for this, you know. Bart don’t like no adults ridin’ him.”
Judd stared at the obscenely large elephant, his eyes taking in the beast. The elephant met his gaze for a moment and he felt a tingle of fear tickle his stomach.
Judd and Max approached the beast warily, eyeing it up the same way they would one of the animals they hunt in the woods.
Kenny Joe shook his head. “Goddamn, but if that elephant don’t have the biggest set of balls I ever seen.”
Bailey nodded as if Kenny Joe had made a profound and important observation about the universe.
Judd climbed up the ladder, followed by Max. They were being led across the field by one of the animal handlers, the large beast shaking them back and forth as it walked.
“This is the way they get around in India,” Max commented as the beast clomped slowly across the field.
“Hey don’t snap at me just because you got your ass beat by some clowns.”
“Max?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to let that go, but if you ever bring that incident up again I’m going to get the bitch-be-quick-stick out and beat you until you can’t breathe, you got that?”
“Not such a bad ride for twenty bucks,” Max said, trying to change the subject.
They were almost near the end of the field when the elephant let out a primal shriek and charged toward an open gate, nearly unseating the both of them. Judd fell off to the side where he dangled around like a puppet, his leg caught deep within the harness.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Judd chanted as he slapped back and forth against the animal’s side.
One of the handlers tried to close the gate as the beast charged, roaring and swinging its trunk furiously. The Elephant hit the metal explosively, sending the handler into the air like a rag doll—he slid across the dirt for about twenty feet, coming to a stop against the wall of a portable bathroom. The bathroom fell over like a large bowling pin, leaving the stunned and unconscious handler lying there like a pulverized action figure.
The elephant ran over to the handler and proceeded to kick him around before kneeling over and crushing him with a sickening snap of bones.
At the same moment, the elephant seemed to sense it had riders on its back. It lashed out with its thick trunk, slapping Judd in the ass with a thunderous clap.
Judd howled, trying desperately to clamber back into the harness. Max turned around so that he was riding the elephant backwards and tried to help his dangling friend. He managed to grab the back of Judd’s khakis only to have them rip off, sending Judd backwards and almost out of the harness.
Judd was now bouncing from side to side in his underwear. The elephant lashed out again, cracking him in the ass with the sound of gunfire. As Judd squealed, Max made another grab, this time only succeeding at ripping Judd’s underwear off as well.
SNAP! The trunk slapped into Judd’s exposed backside. By now, his ass had a blood red welt across it.
“STOP FUCKING HELPING ME!” Judd howled, as the elephant slapped its leathery trunk into his ass again. It had Judd by his left leg and was attempting to pull him from its back. One of the belts on the harness broke and Judd felt himself swing around to the backside of the animal, his face slamming into its balls.
The elephant gave up on Judd and smashed into the monkey cage, sending dozens of the small creatures scurrying into the screaming crowds. One monkey had somehow landed on the elephant’s head, shrieking and slapping his hairy palm down emphatically.
Just before the Elephant crashed into the bright orange circus tent, Max thought briefly of jumping off, but found he could not leave his friend. Chaos detonated into the tent as the beast sent clowns and spectators running in different directions. With a swing of its powerful trunk, it sent one clown airborne with a blaring squawk. The clown landed in the center of the crowd, his enormous psychedelic shoes flying from his feet and into the screaming masses. Max had the disconcerting feeling that he had become a live action cartoon. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a POW! and a BAP! coming from the heads of the clowns as they flew around like Technicolor angels with noisy horns. It was the first time in his life he felt he truly understood what it felt like to be Judd.
Judd had stopped screaming and just sort of dangled over the elephant’s backside, his head crashing up and down dully. He did experience a certain kind of satisfaction as the trunk smacked the clown with the blue hair and sent him sailing into the bleachers, smiling a bit for a brief moment.
Max struggled to pull Judd back to the top as the beast continued to wreak havoc throughout the tent. He felt a painful slap on the back of his bald spot and turned around just in time to see the monkey scamper back to the safety of the elephant’s head. He turned back around and pulled at the harness with all of his strength, praying to God he would somehow save his friend. As if a miracle had arrived, he had actually almost pulled Judd all the way back to the top.
Max felt another biting sting as the monkey smacked the back of his neck, chattered angrily, and then returned to his seat on the enormous head. The harness came loose in his hand and Judd swung back over the side, blasting face first once again into the mammoth testicles.
“You little bastard!” Max yelled, turning around to face the monkey. The Elephant, obviously feeling the pain of Judd’s collision backed up into one of the tent poles, squishing Judd in an effort to rid itself of what it probably thought was a giant tick attached to its balls.
The monkey was screaming and chattering at Max in what could only be described as animal obscenities. It jumped up and down a few times and let out a string of what Max was totally convinced was the monkey version of “Eat shit!”
“Come here, you little fucker,” Max hissed, crawling towards the monkey as the Elephant crashed back outside into the screaming crowd and proceeded to run down the walkway that ran between the game center. Max swung out and cracked the monkey from where it sat, sending it soaring into mass of fleeing people. It caused a small panic where it landed, but Max had little time to notice as he saw Kenny Joe come gliding out of the crowd with a pitchfork.
Kenny Joe screamed what sounded like a war cry and launched his pitchfork into the side of the beast. The elephant bellowed and turned to face its attacker. Kenny Joe dropped the pitchfork, eyes wide in terror as he let go a womanly shriek and fled back from whence he came, striking old ladies and children to the ground in his effort to get away.
The elephant was spinning around in circles attempting to find the pain in its hind leg, Judd trailing in flight behind him like he was on the Dumbo ride at Disney World gone horribly wrong. As Max held on for his life, he remembered the buck knife he kept on his belt.
The elephant headed towards the end of the field and onto the interstate. A helicopter circled above them as Max sawed his knife into the leather harness, filming the whole thing from the safety of the air. Police cars were lined up behind them as Judd swung back and forth into the elephant’s ass with a dull thud.
Teeth gritted in determination, Max finally cut through the harness. Judd tumbled to the road, a tangle of leather and naked flesh. Max waved at the helicopter like an action hero and leapt away, landing in a muddy ditch just to the side of the road. The elephant destroyed two police cars before they managed to kill the poor beast.
Two months later, Judd, Max, Kenny Joe and Bailey sat on the beer-stained couch and watched the television screen in anticipation. Each of them had a beer can between their legs. All week long they had seen the commercials.
“Welcome back to When Animals Go On A Rampage!” the television blared. “In this day and age, people videotape everything! Watch what happens to this poor soul as Bart the Elephant goes on a rampage after years of living a docile existence in the circus! We must warn you that some of what you will see will be disturbing!”
Judd buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe the whole world is seeing the worst moment of my entire life.”
Kenny Joe shook his head. “I thought your worst moment was the time that snake-”
KJ, could you kindly shut the hell up?” Judd said from his buried hands. “I told you that was never to be spoken of.”
“Ouch,” Kenny Joe muttered, wincing as he watched the TV screen. “I bet that welt is STILL on his ass.”
Bailey scrutinized the video, a scholarly look on his round bearded face. “Well at least you had the elephants balls to cushion your head, did you not?”
“Ooooh! That has to hurt!” The television host screamed. “Poor Judd Peterson, this has got to be something he doesn’t want his kids to see!”
“Well, Judd,” Kenny Joe continued. “At least you’re a star. Everyone knows wh
o you are now.”
Judd started weeping, wondering why God had wished so much abuse on him.
A Chorus of Earthly Rage
by Weston Ochse
The hard rays of the full moon filtered green through the thick kudzu canopy illuminating the 1972 Ford LTD in a cold sweaty aura. Coleman slid from the driver’s side and raised his arms above his head stretching out the kinks from the two-hour drive out of Chattanooga. He spun his red baseball cap around and wiped his forehead with a broad hand.
Davey stepped from the passenger side of the car and brushed the residue of the burger and fries off his lap. He paused to stuff the wrapper and box back into the paper bag before he joined his lifelong friend near the trunk.
“I’m sure as hell gonna miss you, Davey,” came Coleman’s slow drawl. “Why the fuck y’all gotta leave the country for two years. Can’t you just get your converts here?”
Davey winced at his friend’s choice of words.
“It’s just the way we do things, is all. There’s only so much we can do around here and there’s so many who have yet to hear the word of God. It’s our Mission to spread the word.”
Coleman inserted the keys into the lock and opened the trunk. He peered at the struggling figure packed within and turned again to his friend.
“My Momma, she says y’all are gonna take over the world someday.”
Davey raised his lanky arm and punched the body in the trunk. Two times. Hard. “Your Momma’s right.”
Coleman pulled the groaning skinhead from the trunk and let him fall to the ground. He knelt down, careful to plant his knee firmly in the man’s crotch and checked the tape around the ankles, wrists and mouth. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the bent roll of silver duct tape. The stickiness of the blood seeping from the man’s nose, missing teeth and cracked lips made the tape loose. He reapplied it by adding two more glistening strips.
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