“You don’t have to touch it,” she said. “Ozzie has done this before. You pull Charlie out after Ozzie oils him up.”
“Let me think for a second... Nope.”
“I’ll go,” Andy said.
She sighed. “Fine.”
He watched Ozzie and Andy leave the room, and then eyed Rochelle. “So, we’re going to pretend like Andy is still whispering, or are you going to explain his newfound voice to the rest of the class?”
“His date with Bernadette went well. He’s found a new lease on life.”
“Really?” He stared at the empty space where Ozzie and Andy had been. “The man has whispered every single word for how long?”
“Since childhood.”
“And you’re telling me the guy gets laid one time and he’s fixed? I’ve had some pretty mind blowing sex, but nothing that would erase all the shit that fucked me up in my childhood.”
“No.” She glared. “There was no sex.”
“Then this is less believable than it was a second ago.”
“Andy and Bernadette made a connection. He found someone he could trust, and that was a big part of Andy’s problem. He came to me the next day and said he no longer felt the need to whisper. Even if his relationship with Bernadette doesn’t pan out, I feel like the experience will be a positive one.”
“Okay.” He leaned back in his chair. “Let’s say I believe this fiction you’re weaving—which I don’t—tell me, was this night of “connecting” as life altering for Bernadette as it was for Andy?”
She sighed. “Well she hasn’t returned his calls. I’m sure she’s just busy, and as long as Andy’s happy, I don’t care. Can we move on?”
“Sure.” He examined his hands. “Is Estella finally cured too?”
“What do you mean?”
He wriggled his fingers.
“God,” Estella groaned. “Mittens.”
“No, Estella,” Rochelle said. “It’s time you learn to look at fingers. You barely noticed until Milo pointed it out.”
“I can’t.”
“If you don’t start at least trying to overcome your fears, you’ll have to commit yourself like we talked about. Clear?”
Estella nodded, her eyes closed. “Maybe we could do this more slowly, like a few seconds at a time. Milo has ridiculously long fingers. I can’t stand it.”
“Is that a problem?” he asked.
“She hates long fingers the most,” Nina explained.
“Yes,” Estella said. “I hate the long ones.”
“I don’t think my fingers are too long.” He examined his hand. “They’re pretty average sized. Besides, you seemed to like them just fine when—”
Rochelle’s stare stopped him mid-sentence.
“When…” he cleared his throat. “Every other time you’ve seen them.”
“Stop,” Estella cried. “Please.”
“Sorry.” He put his hands in his lap.
“I love long fingers,” Nina said.
“I bet you do, psycho.” He wasn’t going to encourage the nympho. He didn’t need that kind of complication in his life.
“Okay.” Rochelle stood. “The truth is, Estella, someone has taken the mittens. We don’t have a single one in the house.”
“Nina?” He said.
“What?” she winked.
“Did you take the mittens?” This place was like a zoo. He couldn’t wait for his time to be done so he could get as far away from this insanity as possible.
“Maybe I did.” Nina uncrossed her legs, opening her thighs wide enough for him to see that she wasn’t wearing any panties. “Wanna frisk me?”
“You didn’t put all the mittens in your snatch, did you?”
“Milo!” Rochelle gasped.
“What? She’s showing me her vagina and I’m not supposed to wonder? By the way, you should wax. Do you have any idea what lurks in all that hair? Looks like you’ve got an ewok stashed between your legs.”
“Why don’t you stick a long finger in there and find out?” Nina opened her legs wider. “Or two.”
“For the love of God,” he said. “You need to get a handle on your freak show, Rochelle. It’s getting out of control.”
“Nina,” Rochelle said. “Did you take the mittens?”
“I did.”
“I know you didn’t put all of them in your vagina. Where are they?”
“I didn’t put any of them in there. I’m not stupid.”
“So, where are they?”
“I don’t remember.”
“She does so.” Estella’s eyes were still closed.
“I don’t,” Nina insisted. “When I hoard, everything goes blurry, and I don’t remember what it is I’ve done or where I’ve put things until I find them again.”
“I don’t know why you’d hide them in the first place,” Estella said.
“Because you need to deal with your shit, Stella,” Nina replied. “I mean, seriously. Of all of us, your issues are the worst. You bit off your own fingers, and let’s not forget what you did to Sha—”
“Enough, Nina,” Rochelle said.
Milo suspected she was about to say Shamus. He kept his thoughts to himself and waited to see how this all played out.
“What?” Nina pouted. “She did… do that thing and he was just lucky the doctors could fix it. It’s time you made her take a test too. We all had to do it.”
“I think this is enough of a test,” Rochelle said.
“Yeah, I have had to sit in here with your fingers all around me. Can you please tell us where you hid them?” Estella’s eyes remained closed.
He was fascinated by her ridiculousness. Imagine, being afraid of fingers. Now gingers were one thing. Those fuckers were creepy. Fingers were just fingers.
“I don’t remember what I did with them,” Nina said.
“I have to go home.” Estella stood, still blinding herself to the room. “Please take me home, Rochelle.”
“No one’s going home. Milo, sit on your hands. You too, Nina.” Rochelle did the same. “Now, Estella, open your eyes.”
Estella opened one eye. When she saw that all three had hidden their fingers, she relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Now, we’re going to discuss Milo tonight.”
“Why me?”
“You’re only here for a few weeks. I think it’s important we address one of your issues before you go back to work.”
“Like?”
“Your fear of cats.”
He snorted. “I think not.”
“I could tell your boss you need more time.”
“Bitch.”
Rochelle smiled. “You’ll thank me later. Once Charlie and the oth—”
Rochelle’s words were drowned out by the sound of Charlie screaming. Milo ran toward the kitchen. He didn’t even pause to think about the fact that the idiots in Rochelle’s care were psychos, and the screaming was probably for a reason so absurd, he would feel like an idiot for worrying. He just ran. When he reached the kitchen, he slid to a stop just inside the doorway.
“Christ,” he breathed. “What the actual fuck…?”
Charlie stood at the stove, hands over his dick, pants around his ankles. He saw blood dripping from his fingers.
“What the hell happened?” Milo asked.
He followed Charlie’s gaze, and found Andy on the floor, knife in his throat. His eyes were open. Not a good sign.
“Someone better talk,” he said. “Because if I don’t hear something along the lines of “just kidding,” I’m going to have to arrest one of you. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is my life.”
Ozzie stared at the floor. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “Cocksucker. I was putting the cooking oil on Charlie’s dick, like we have to do to get him unstuck from the pipe, and then Andy comes up and says we should just cut it off. Ass-packer fuck your tits. Said it’s easy to cut flesh with the right tool. Piss-licker. His eyes were all weird. Never seen Andy like that. Nun-fucker cum-guzzling
my asshole.”
Milo stared.
“And I said fuck no,” Charlie added. “And Andy said if he cut off my dick, then my problem is solved because I won’t stick it in things anymore.”
“You didn’t let him—”
“I’m not certifiable!” He screeched. “I like my dick. In fact, I’m quite in love with it. Andy just took the knife and started cutting. It’s not like it was fully in the hole. No reason to hack it off.”
“Was fucking so,” Ozzie said. “I had to push back your balls just to—”
“Okay, that’s way too much information.” He felt a little dizzy. “Charlie, is it gone?”
“Is what gone?” Charlie asked.
“Your dick. There’s an awful lot of blood there, buddy, but they say if you, uh, put it on ice, they might be able to reattach it.”
“His dick is fine,” Ozzie shook his head, his eyes still on Andy’s still form. “Just a mmm…cunt-licker…sorry. Was just a flesh wound. Fucktard. Mother-ass-cunt.”
“Let me slice your dick and see how you feel about “just a flesh wound”, you fucking asshole.” Charlie’s eyes were red, his face pale. “I think I’m going to hurl.”
“So Charlie’s dick is not still in the drainpipe. This is good,” Milo said. He was relieved he didn’t have to fish a penis out of anywhere, but had to ask the next obvious question. He anticipated only limited clarity in their response. “How did Andy get a knife in his throat?”
“Um…” Charlie shrugged. “I blacked out after the first slice.”
“I did it. Cunt-mangler,” Ozzie said. “Not on—ass bandit—purpose. I was fighting with him to get the knife out of his hand. Ssss—shithead. I can’t stop swearing. Ball-sucker. Then I got it, and he tried to take it back, said something about being better, and I went to toss it, but he grabbed the blade. Fuck-smuggling the faggot taint.”
“Man, I can’t follow this,” Milo said.
“I pulled, but it was slippery on account of Charlie’s blood. Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Ozzie said.
Charlie opened his hands a bit and peeked at his wounded dick. “Never going to be the same.”
Ozzie glanced quickly at him before continuing. “And the knife somehow got in Andy’s neck, but I don’t remember how. Whore-bastard-nnnn-not-the-nnnn-shit. Cunt again.”
“Are you trying not to swear?” He asked.
Ozzie nodded.
“I think you’re just making it worse. Let it all out.”
“Okay. Ass-kisser. One minute we were struggling, like… ffff—asshat in a cunt—and the next minute, cock-gobbling Andy was falling and Charlie was screaming like a motherfucker on fire. I can’t—” he knocked on his head. “Piss-fuck-ass… it’s all going away.”
“Oh Jesus,” Estella’s voice shrieked from behind him. “What the hell is going on?”
“Andy tried to cut Charlie’s dick off. It went awry, obviously, and so Ozzie stabbed Andy,” Milo said. “Sort of. I’m pretty sure it was all accidental.”
“No. No. NO.” Rochelle finally made it to the kitchen. “What is wrong with you guys? Is it a full moon? I am trying to fix all of you, but here you are, doing everything you’ve been told not to do.”
“Looks like you need a stronger glue to fix this bunch,” he said. “Try something industrial. Maybe some duct tape, a few staples. Oh, and I’m pretty sure Andy’s dead, so that is going to be a bit of an impossible repair.”
“Sorry, Rochelle.” Ozzie said. “I know we had a pl—”
“Shut up.” Rochelle shot a warning look at Ozzie.
He frowned. A plan? He fucking knew it. The bitch was killing her own patients. He forced his heart to calm down, before he did something impulsive and stupid. This proved nothing, although he’d bet with some gentle interrogation, Ozzie would spill everything. Too bad Captain Cunt had no interest in what was going on in Rochelle’s land of crazy. How should he proceed? Maybe let her think he was on her side. Gather enough evidence to arrest her.
“Poor Andy,” Estella whispered. “Why did you stab him, Oz?”
“Because he was cutting my dick off,” Charlie said. “I’m pretty glad it happened. I think I did it, to be honest. Ozzie’s just protecting me.”
“You’re never honest, dickhead” Ozzie said. “It was me. I’m the fucker that killed Andy.”
“It was me. He was cutting off my dick, so I defended myself.”
“Stop lying, filthy whore.”
“You stop lying.”
“Both of you just stop talking.” Rochelle’s voice was high. A vein throbbed in her forehead.
Milo grinned. The doctor was about to lose her shit.
“I have to think this through.” She said. “Is Andy definitely dead?”
He pulled his latex gloves from his coat pocket. After kneeling next to Andy’s body, he slid one of the gloves on his right hand. There was so much blood, he couldn’t avoid stepping in it. Why hadn’t he brought his bag with him? Those booties would’ve been handy. Now he’d have to throw out his shoes, which bothered him. It wasn’t easy to find comfortable shoes.
Sighing, he touched Andy’s neck. He closed his eyes, waiting, willing Andy to be alive, but there was nothing. “He’s dead.”
“Fuck.” Rochelle stared at Andy’s body. “I guess we better call the cops.”
“Will I be arrested?” Ozzie asked. “I’d be someone’s bitch in under a fucking minute. Please, for the love of Christ, don’t send me to some shit-ball jail.”
“No,” Milo stood and took off the glove. He tossed it on the floor next to Andy’s body. “I’m not sending you to jail, because it was self-defense. Rochelle?”
“What?”
“We’re going to come up with a story, and everyone’s gotta stick to it or Ozzie will be spending the next twenty-odd years in prison. And his penchant for offending everyone combined with a baby face like that? He’s right. His asshole would never be the same.”
“We can’t lie to the police.”
“Why stop now?” Milo said. “Now, given Charlie’s inability to tell a convincing lie, we’re going to pretend he wasn’t even here.”
“Why would you do anything to help us?” Rochelle scowled at him. “You’ve done nothing but fight me since the first day you arrived.”
He smiled. Within seconds of seeing Andy, his brain worked furiously to figure out how he could use the situation to his advantage. True, he didn’t want to send Ozzie to jail. The guy was crazy, but it wasn’t his fault Rochelle fucked Andy up so bad he’d try to cut a man’s dick off. However, his sense of self-preservation, and his desire to get the hell away from this place and never come back factored into his decision to cover up what happened more significantly than his sympathy for Ozzie.
This was his out, and it was also his in. He could get Rochelle to promise a good report, which would guarantee his job at the end of the month without having to actually participate in her bullshit. If she trusted him, he might get the evidence he needed to lock her up for murdering her little nest of nutters.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Rochelle said. “And tell me why you’re helping us.”
“Because this was an accident,” he explained. “I know Oz didn’t mean to hurt anyone, and I know Andy was just… the man was off his fucking gourd. Seriously.”
“He made a breakthrough.”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Looks like it.”
“If we go along with your plan, I want you to promise this won’t come back to haunt us later.”
He laughed. “I can promise whatever you want, but I can’t predict the future. It depends on whether or not the cops believe what we tell them.”
“I guess we better make sure there’s no reason for them not to.”
“So,” Estella’s voice was calmer now. “We’re just going to lie to the cops?”
“Sort of.” He pointed at Charlie. “You get the fuck out of here. If your dick is seriously injured, we’ll say you hurt it at home. You think it needs stitc
hes?”
Charlie nodded.
“Rochelle, you know how to stitch a dick?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Stitch Charlie up.” He looked at Charlie one more time. “And you, you fucking idiot, stop putting your dick where it doesn’t belong.”
“I won’t.”
“Right,” He said. “Until next time. Go upstairs and don’t come down until one of us comes to get you.”
Charlie nodded again.
“Now, Ozzie, you and Andy were in the kitchen getting snacks. Andy was supposed to be slicing the…” Milo looked around. He saw a platter of meat on the table. “The roast beef, and then he just snapped. You tried to grab the knife from him, but you both fell. That’s when the knife stuck in Andy’s throat. I’ll say I witnessed the whole thing. Was a total accident.”
“You’d lie for me? Un-fucking-believable,” Ozzie said.
“I obviously miss everything.” Buggy entered the kitchen.
Ozzie spun around, fist raised.
“Whoa!” Buggy blocked Ozzie’s arm with his hand, and then pushed his glasses up his nose. “What happened here?”
Milo noticed some blood smeared along the edge of the right lens of the glasses. He looked away. “Later, Bug-man. We’ve got shit to deal with first.”
“Like?”
“Protecting Ozzie.”
“Bother.” Buggy removed his glasses. “I’ve got blood on them.”
“Buggy,” Rochelle said.
He wiped the lens with his shirt, and then glanced up at Rochelle. Milo watched his face drain of color, as his eyes found the very green backsplash beneath the gray cupboards, and then Buggy opened his mouth, releasing the most God-awful sound he had ever heard.
“Put your glasses on!” Rochelle said.
Buggy kept screaming, glasses still in his hands.
“For the love of Christ,” Milo said. He took the glasses from Buggy’s hand and then pushed them onto his face. “Better?”
Buggy screamed one last time, and then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“Fuck me.” He turned to Rochelle. “Now, I don’t like lying, but I’d tell a slightly modified truth to keep an innocent man out of jail. I know this was a mistake. Could’ve been me if I’d come out here to help unstick Charlie’s dick. Could’ve been any of us.”
“Thank you,” Rochelle said. “This means so much.”
Mad Page 12
