Hell's Titties

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Hell's Titties Page 7

by Robert Bevan


  Bucky didn't like the idea of squirting a man with poison while he was rubbing one out. That ran counter to The Code. He remembered when he saw his first titty mag, and he felt a certain amount of empathy for the creature. Bucky had only been eleven years old and hadn't had to endure countless millennia trapped in Hell before finally figuring out what his willy was for.

  “Perhaps we should allow him to finish before we proceed?”

  “Are you kidding me?” asked Rainn. “This is the best shot you're ever going to get. Shoot him now while he's distracted.”

  Rainn made a good point. The demon certainly seemed preoccupied with his junk at present. But he didn't like the idea of just going in willy-nilly.

  “Yeah, I s'pose we could just go charging in there like a bunch of jackasses looking to get turned into cockroach shit. Or we could consider my POA.”

  Thorin looked confused. “You belong to a Property Owners' Association?”

  “Goddammit, it's a Plan Of... You know what, never mind. Just huddle in.”

  Everyone crouched down in a semi-circle facing Zabor. Nobody wanted to look directly at a giant masturbating cockroach monster, but neither did they want to have their backs to it.

  “Do we have enough wire to wrap around the trees and fence it in?” Thorin whispered quickly.

  “Fuck no,” said Floyd. “I don't reckon we got that kind of time either. You ever whack it long enough for someone to build a goddamn fence around you?”

  Rainn smiled. “How about using it to make a lasso?”

  “Now that's good thinking.”

  Bucky poked a finger into the dirt to leave a mark. “This spot represents Zabor's current location. Floyd and I will come at it from there and there,” he said, poking two more holes in the dirt. “When I give the signal, we hose him down with Raid.” He traced two lines from the newest dots to the first one, forming a V shape. “If he runs this way or that way,” he indicated the sides of the V, “he'll still be in range of one of our weapons. So the odds are good that he's going to flee this way.” He traced a line down, turning the V into a Y. “That's where the four of you'll be waiting. He should be weakened by that point. You lasso him, or beat the shit out of him, or do whatever you got to do. Remember, we'd like to take him alive, but not at the cost of our own lives.” He looked at Zelda. “If you feel your life’s in danger, don't you hesitate to cut that fucker's head off, hear?”

  Zelda nodded.

  Bucky and Floyd set off in opposite directions, keeping a wide perimeter but maintaining visual contact with the demon. It watched them as well, sidestepping and twitching its bug head to keep an eye on everyone at once. Fortunately, Zabor had not concluded his business by the time Bucky and Floyd were in position. Bucky could understand that. It must take zen-like concentration to burp the baby when you got six strangers staring at you.

  Bucky nodded at Floyd, who nodded back. They started pumping their Super Splashers, ready to unleash watered-down Hell on this beast. Bucky realized that their pumping motions on their guns weren't dissimilar to Zabor's pumping motion on his dong. The similarity was apparently not lost on Zabor, whose chittering noises grew higher in pitch as his antennae stood erect.

  “Bucky?” shouted Floyd.

  “Yeah?”

  “I'm not sure how I feel about this.”

  Bucky had no response to that. He averted his eyes and pumped harder, determined to build up as much pressure as he could before releasing. Zabor followed suit, his insect chitter reaching tea kettle pitch, then trailed off into sleepy clicking.

  Fuck this shit.

  “NOW!” shouted Bucky. He pulled the trigger, sending a stream of water-and-Raid solution directly onto the demon's lower leg. Floyd's stream missed it all together, but he adjusted his aim and hit the other leg.

  “We ain't got enough range!” said Floyd.

  “Move in!” Bucky vaulted one of the bonfires and ran into the clearing , raising his stream so that it followed the massive roach's segmented body all the way to the face. Floyd followed close behind.

  Zabor hissed like one of them big Madagascar motherfuckers, then turned around and crouched over. The guns' streams were getting flaccid, and Bucky didn't think that they'd get through the hard dorsal shell of the beast anyway. They needed to hit him where he was vulnerable.

  “Y'all get ready!” Bucky shouted to Rainn and her gang as he and Floyd took the opportunity to re-pump their guns. “He's about to come your way.”

  After a few more seconds of furious pumping, which Bucky now had a hard time mentally separating from synchronized pickle-ticklin', Floyd stopped pumping. Zabor wasn't moving.

  “I think we got him, Bucky.”

  “Just keep your distance,” Bucky warned. “We want to be sure before we get too close.” He called up at the others. “Bring that steel cable over here. I reckon we just bagged us a goddamn demon!”

  Rainn approached cautiously, holding her steel lasso out in front of her like she was ready to drop it and run at the slightest twitch of an antenna. “Are you sure? Is it...”

  “I don't know, but if it ain't, it's gonna have a hell of a headache when it wakes up.”

  Zelda circled counterclockwise around the fallen demon, holding her sword out ready to strike. Mark and Thorin crept forward but stayed behind Rainn.

  “You folks want to tie him up?” asked Bucky.

  Rainn dropped the lasso. “I'm not getting any closer to that thing than I am right now.”

  Bucky looked up at Mark and Thorin. “If you two got a sack between you, would you mind?”

  “How?” asked Thorin.

  “Roll the motherfucker over and tie his hands to his feet. It ain't fuckin' brain surgery.”

  “Then why don't you do it?”

  “Cause if he wakes up, you want me here ready to shoot him with another faceful of Raid.”

  Mark inched a little closer and picked up the lasso. “How about you hit him with another blast first, just for good measure. I think that would make me a little more comfortable. Thorin?”

  Thorin nodded. “A lot more comfortable.”

  Bucky shook his head. “If this thing dies on account of you being the biggest two pussies in the world, that blood is gonna be on your hands.”

  Mark and Thorin glanced at each other, nodded, then looked back at Bucky. “We can live with that.”

  “Fine,” said Bucky. “Come on, Floyd. Let's find this asshole's head and give him one more blast of Welcome to America.”

  Keeping their guns fixed on Zabor, Bucky and Floyd moved in closer to find any sign of the head beneath the hard back shell.

  “Zelda,” said Bucky as he leaned in closer. “Shine your light over here on this end.”

  Zelda turned her head toward the spot where Bucky indicated.

  With a sound like E.T. getting a cattle prod up the ass, Zabor awakened. His back shell split down the middle, leaving the softer part of his body exposed, but knocking Bucky and Floyd onto their asses and sending their Super Splashers flying out of their hands.

  A barely visible set of wings buzzed noisily, raising the demon to its hind legs, then further up into the air. “IGRIT ASTAD ZABOR BAZUUL!” Its huge eyes were wild with rage as it ascended.

  “It's getting away,” said Rainn. She grabbed the lasso out of Mark's hands and started swinging it around her head.

  Mark ducked and backed away. “Watch where you're swinging that thing!”

  Rainn released the lasso into the air, but not anywhere close to the escaping demon. It landed with a heavy thud on the leafy ground, and Zabor disappeared into the treetops.

  “For what it's worth,” Floyd said to Rainn. “You looked pretty badass doing that.”

  “It was worth a shot.” Rainn bent over to pick up the lasso, then stopped. “What the fuck is this?”

  Everyone gathered around the loop of steel. Zelda's light revealed a blob of pale yellow liquid. It looked and smelled like a quart of nacho cheese and spoiled milk.

&n
bsp; Bucky frowned at having to be the one to say it. “It would appear that Zabor has successfully concluded his business in the woods.”

  “We should get the fuck out of here,” said Rainn. “That thing was terrifying when we could see it. It's more terrifying now that we can't.”

  Bucky sighed and dropped his water gun. “It’s gone. We blew it.”

  “Are you kidding?” said Thorin, his eyes darting back and forth as though tracking an invisible fly. “It might come back at any moment!”

  Rainn shook her head. “Bucky’s right. We kicked its ass. It’s got no reason to come back here.”

  “Maybe for this?” Zelda spoke through gritted teeth, as though trying to filter the air coming into her mouth. She held her sword out at arm’s length, something ragged and gloppy square draped over the point like a soggy flapjack . It was the 1979 Tit’s Monthly special, covered in cockroach love pudding.

  “Oh, man!” Floyd said. “That was ours! Part of a collection. No way we can sell that thing now!”

  Mark nodded. “That definitely goes beyond ’slightly foxed’” There was a wet slap as a chunk of the cockroach goo dripped onto the ground.

  “It’s totally foxed!” cried Floyd. ”Bucky, have you seen this?”

  “Oh, who cares, Floyd? That retirement plan was just like all our other plans- a waste of damn time.”

  Floyd frowned. “What crawled up your ass without buying you dinner?”

  Bucky shrugged. “We fucking blew it, Floyd. Our one shot out of this podunk town and we let it fly away.”

  “It’s still out there, you know,” said Mark. ”A real live demon! We just went face to face with a real live demon. Doesn’t that mean anything? I mean, Rainn, you got a picture, right?”

  Rainn cleared her throat self-consciously. “Actually, what with the firelight and everything, all I got was kind of a blur.”

  Thorin snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Great. We can join all the other true believers who can’t work a camera when it counts.”

  Zelda slapped Thorin on the arm. “You’re being an asshole.”

  “No, he’s right,” said Bucky. “All we’ve got is our word and a shitty photo. We go to a reporter with this and we’ll get laughed at. It’s over. Say Laverne.”

  Mark blinked. “What?”

  “Say Laverne!”

  “Do you mean ‘C’est la vie’?”

  “Whatever the Germans say! Either way, nobody’s going to care about our story.”

  “Well, maybe one of them unsolved mystery guys would be interested?” Floyd offered. “We could meet the guy from Star Trek!”

  “Dammit, Floyd, that show’s been off the air for twenty years!”

  “Really? Damn, I loved that show.”

  “Besides, I don’t want to be some flavor-of-the-month-fuckwit. I wanted proof! The kind of proof that gets people to take you seriously!”

  Zelda put her hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s still out there, we can still-”

  Bucky shook her hand off, huffing. “Don’t you get it? That thing can fly! It could be anywhere in Hell’s Titties. We ain’t got no way of tracking it! You think we’re gonna hunt it down before someone like Roger finds it? Fucking Roger? No. We’re finished. All we got to show for it is a ruined trailer and an incomplete porn collection.”

  “Well, look,” said Mark, “there’s some clues here, right?” He dragged his foot through a pile of litter at the center of the bonfires. There was a clanking as several small metal cylinders rolled across the ground. “We got...I dunno. A shitload of Cheezums wrappers and some kind of knock-off body spray?”

  Floyd frowned. “That’s LAX. Good shit. Only fifty cents a can.”

  “Why do you suppose it had so much of it?” Mark picked up a can that had been torn nearly in half. “All the writing on it is in Chinese or something…”

  Rainn’s mouth worked silently for a moment. “Like in the summoning rhyme. Secret Potion of the East!”

  “You think LAX body spray was the secret summoning ingredient?”

  “Not necessarily the body spray itself. Maybe something in it.”

  “Could be,” said Floyd. “Some of that shit ain’t legal here, which might explain why nobody ever got the ritual to work before.”

  “And the Cheezums?” asked Mark.

  Floyd shrugged. “Maybe it just really likes Cheezums?”

  Bucky slow-clapped sarcastically. “Well, bravo CSI Hell’s Titties, we’ll have that fucker tracked down in no time.”

  The gang stood around in awkward silence.

  “So what now?” said Zelda in a small voice.

  Bucky shrugged. “Rusty’s?”

  Zelda’s wide eyes blinked behind her glasses. “You’re serious? We just tangled with an actual demon and now you’re going to go to some crappy bar and pretend it didn't happen?”

  “Nothing did happen,” Bucky snapped. “We tried, we failed. The world don’t hold it’s breath for failure.”

  “There’s a god damned monster out there,” said Rainn. “A monster you helped create. Don’t you think you have a responsibility to do something about it?”

  Bucky shrugged. “Far as I can tell it ain’t hurting nobody. All its done is eat junk food and jerk off. If that was a crime, Floyd here would be Al Capone.”

  “Hey!”

  Thorin held a hand up. “For what’s it’s worth, after seeing what we’re dealing with, we’re not the ones who should be handling this. This is over all our heads. We should call animal control or the police or something.”

  “You think the local sheriff has a playbook for just this scenario?” Mark said.

  “No, but neither do we, neither does anybody. Least of all these fuckos.” Thorin gestured with his thumb to Floyd and Bucky.

  “Hey!”

  Rainn stepped into the center of the group. “Well, I disagree. Look at what we’re standing on here. A pentagram drawn into the dirt with five fires at the tips? We’re dealing with some magical bullshit here, and magical bullshit is my bread and butter.”

  Zelda went to stand next to her. “You guys gave that thing enough poison to kill a thousand cockroaches, I don’t think it got far at all.”

  Floyd looked between Bucky and the girls. After a moment of hesitation, he stepped next to Rainn and sheepishly stared at the ground. ”I’m not ready to give up. If these guys are going after it, I’m going with them. They’re right. It’s our responsibility.”

  Bucky sighed and picked up his water gun. “You really think we can find this thing?”

  Floyd looked up, smiling. “Sure, man. What happened to the guy setting his alarm for nine in the ay-em like some kind of god damned president?”

  “I guess he just needs another beer. What say we reconvene at Rusty’s and get ourselves another POA?”

  Floyd slapped him a high five. “Now you’re talkin’ my language.”

  “What about you two chuckleheads?” Bucky pointed at Thorin and Mark. “You still up for some Scooby Doo bullshit?”

  Mark nodded.

  Thorin shrugged. “Personally, I think this is a terrible idea, but these guys are my ride home.”

  Chapter 16

  As many afternoons, evenings, nights, and early mornings Floyd and Bucky had drunk away the time at Rusty's, Floyd couldn't remember ever once having sat at a table. His social circle was pretty much limited to Bucky and whoever else happened to be sitting at the bar.

  He could tell Bucky felt the same way, shifting on the hard wooden chair. It didn't know your ass like the cracked pleather barstools did. The view was all wrong as well, with the pool tables in front of them and the bar off to the side. It felt like a well-designed, but ultimately unsuccessful imitation of the Rusty's experience.

  Floyd had been a little nervous about inviting this group of weirdos into their sanctuary. He was also apprehensive about what Rainn might think of this place. To the untrained eye, it could be easily mistaken for a dingy redneck shithole. Strangely enough, Rainn didn't flinc
h at the sight of the place, and none of the patrons or staff seemed to give a shit about any of them.

  Most everyone knew to keep things simple, ordering a Coors Light when Darla came around asking what they wanted to drink. Floyd and Bucky exchanged a quick glance when Thorin asked for a goddamn pina colada. Shit like that could get you knifed in a place like this.

  “Coming right up,” was all Darla said about it, and she said it with a smile. That was some kind of professionalism right there.

  After they spent the first couple of drink rounds getting all the 'Holy shit I can't believe we just fought a demon' bullshit out of the way, Floyd decided it was time to get down to more practical matters.

  “Any of you guys hungry?”

  Zelda nodded.

  Rainn shrugged. “I could snack on something.”

  “I'm hungry as a motherfucker,” said Bucky. “Get some pizzas.”

  “Pizzas?” said Thorin. “How many do we need? There's only six of us, and we only just had Chinese food a couple of hours ago.”

  “They're small, but they're good. Trust me.”

  Floyd took his and Mark's empty bottles to the bar and asked for two more, as well as a couple of pizzas for the table. When he returned, the conversation had finally started to get somewhere.

  “We had it right where we wanted it,” said Mark. “We should have killed it when we had the chance.”

  Bucky swallowed back the last of the beer in his bottle. “What's done is done. Ain't no point in – Hey, thanks, man.” He grabbed Mark's beer out of Floyd's hand and took a swig. “We got to focus on the future.”

  Mark glared at Bucky and got up to go to the bar.

  Zelda looked up from her cell phone. “If we're going to hunt this thing, I'd rather do it during the day. How's tomorrow morning for you guys?”

  “Works for me,” said Thorin.

  “Hang on,” said Bucky. “When you say morning, are you talking about early to mid afternoon?”

  “No. I'm talking about actual morning.”

  “Fuck that. Let's exchange phone numbers and we'll catch up with you guys around two.”

 

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