Hush was speaking to me in the Old Shack. Now, the Old Shack is a run-down strip club that we go to think. I know that sounds kind of crazy, but it’s not much of a strip club, come to think of it. They needed strippers so bad that they even hired Mikey, our town crossdresser, to play a woman.
The internet, though I love it, really destroyed the local stripper economy and made our local lives a lot less stimulating. I started to think that maybe leaving was not so bad. After all, here I was tipping my last dollar to an old man playing a woman that appeared to be pregnant.
In fact, that was his theme, Hot Pregnant Lolli will Lick Your Day Away. That was so wrong in so many ways that I stripped my dollar from him, not knowing if I felt double-crossed or offended.
“Now I know you love Licking Lolli here, but are you listening to me?” Said Hush with peanuts spewing from his moth.
“I would if you didn’t look like a rabid squirrel.”
Ignoring me, Hush continued, “Seriously, I heard that crossdressers are not gay.”
“Oh, shit, Mickey is not gay. He was hitting on widow Humperdick every morning, remember?”
Hush looked up to the heavens and seemed to get some kind of message from God, though I doubt it. Then he spitted out what seemed to be wisdom, “Yes, yeah, you are right. Old dick humper would do her gardening every day … I forgot about that.”
“Oh, would you stop with the fucking peanuts. They stink. You are spitting them everywhere.”
Hush stared at me as if processing some kind of math problem. I continued, “I think he was more interested in the flowery dress she was wearing though, so maybe he was not hitting on her.”
From my understanding, that is how the story went. Every day, Humperdick would wear these large dresses. Now, I am not against large women but to say Humperdick was large is like asking the President to tell the truth. She was so huge that she would wear one of the beepers, the ones they put on trucks and bulldozers, so that when she backed up, you knew what was coming. I think it was to discourage her goat from hitting her phat ass. He has an ass-hitting fetish of some kind, so he got the name, Ass Terminator.
Now, I am not kidding. She is a proud, large woman, and she is fine being a “fat dyke” as she put it. She sees her largeness as a statement, she says, a statement that women can be just as “big” as men. The beeper is a reminder of her power or, what is it? I think some shit about her empowerment over men. I think she is weird, but who am I to talk? I am sitting here watching a crossdressing dude get naked.
I continued, “He would go and fetch dresses from her, and she liked him. But I think she likes him because he is a dude that dresses like a lady. He likes her because he gets ladies clothes that fit him.”
“Yeah, and she has the little tea cup poodle, um, Puddles, remember, that she sticks between her tits when she goes around.” Hush said.
“She D-I-D once,” I said looking at him somber.
This time, Hush got my message. For someone that is about as smart as a goat mid-smacking someone’s ass, he had moments of quick wittedness.
“Oh, no. It died!”
“Yes,” I said as if I lost a good friend.
“How?” I loved that little guy!
“It suffocated. From what Mickey told me, and the old farmer confirmed it. She put the little guy between her tits and forgot about it. She had the “goat crisis” that day. I think her goat got out and was terrorizing the Benson kids. They were doing some water challenge at the pool in bikinis and that was too much for Ass Terminator.
“You mean those little bratty twin girls that always stick their tongues out?”
“Yeah, them. Well, they are sweet to me. That’s because you are gross, always throwing up peanuts and blowing your nose without tissue.”
We call this blowing your nose redneck style. While walking, you tilt your head forward and to the side, close one nostril with a finger, and blow out like hell. The boogers fly out.
I am beginning to think that redneck style is really environment friendly. If rednecks were smarter, we could make a fortune and save the environment at the same time. Instead of being the flyover people, people would want to be like us.
Now, as I understand it, the two little girls were walking by Hush. We had a tail wind or what we call and ass wind that day, so two huge gobs of snot smacked the ladies in their faces. From that day forward, Hush was the enemy. The flailing tongues were the serpent’s warning, “We are cute but stay away.”
“They were just boogers. I said I was sorry.”
“This is why you are single. Only you like your own boogers. It’s kind of smelling your fart when you think of it.”
I leaned forward and peered at Hush. “Remember these words of wisdom, whatever guys like to do, girls hate, whether it’s blowing noses, farting, or dating. Do what makes you miserable and they will be happy.”
“What about the dog?” Hush said, ignoring my statement.
“Well, it was running around trying to hit the girls in the ass. Humperdick had to call animal control. They took two hours getting there. The goat even got inside the Benson house.”
“Oh, cool, get those little brats!”
“Cut it out, Hush, they are just kids. They must have been scared. Goats can be quite intimidating. Anyway, the girls ran in and forgot to close the door all the way. The good news was that Ass Terminator lost interest in hitting asses and decided to lick the wedding cake that Mrs. and Mr. Benson were making for a wedding the next day.
And so the story goes, by day’s end, the police, animal control, Mickey, dressed as Licking Lolli, along with Humperdick converged on the scene.”
The police, confused, arrested Mickey because they thought he was the pervert chasing the kids in his Licking Lolli costume. Luckily, I was there the whole time and explained that if Mickey was a pervert, he was a really nice pervert. He wasn’t into young girls, only large women’s clothes. They realized that they could not arrest a goat with an ass-hitting fetish and left. But they did give Humperdick a citation. Humperdick and Ass Terminator were disturbing the peace.”
“What about Puddles, damnit?”
“I am getting to it. See that is why I will miss this place. It’s so, well, fucked up, and I like fucked up. Humperdick was so exhausted that she went home and fell asleep. Puddles died in what was a big puddle, a tsunami of mammoth breasts.”
Hush, looking like he was going to cry, “That is horrible.”
“Wait, it gets worse” or more interesting depending on how you look at it. “She forgot where she put the dog, so remember, she put out posters everywhere. See” I pointed to the wall next to where Mickey was twerking in a G-String.
“Yeah, I remember, we even did the search, all of us, for that dog.”
“Honestly, you got to lay off the peanuts, Hush. How can you forget? So after a week, she noticed that she did not smell very good, so she went to the ER.”
Now, poor Hush looked as if he was going to vomit and cry.
“Stop it! It was not the dog they found, right?”
“No, they found a pile of shit between her breasts. Apparently, the dog wiggled out at some point and ended up in Pennsylvania with a blind black dude that thinks he’s a white supremacist. You cannot blame the poor guy. He is around a bunch of assholes, I guess, they played a trick on him all these years. Come to think of it, that is worse that the ‘Puddles’ Story’ and the ‘Goat Crisis’ put together.”
“So the dog is living there now? You asshole,” Hush hits me. “Why doesn’t Humperdick get it back?”
“Well, it turns out that the dude had a real awakening. He was trained as a seeing-eye dog.”
“You mean the guy?” Said Hush stupidly.
“No, you idiot. The dog! I said, dog. It’s a long story, but he figured out that he is black and now is a much better person. Humperdick did not have the heart to take Puddles back. Humperdick is a good woman. She has a heart as big as her ass.”
Hush grew more excited and looked at me first perplexed and then as if I was the damn Easter bunny.
“There is a moral in this, don’t you see? He said. “You, Frank, have to escape the tits. You have to shit on them, and run away, free yourself from their warm, succulent but deadly caress.”
I could not figure out if Hush was serious or psychotic but thought that if he grew up with smart and rich parents, he could have been a college professor and not a shit scraper.
The next thing he said changed everything.
“I want to go with you. Let’s have this adventure together.”
I never thought of that. Why not look at this as an adventure with my best friend.
Suddenly, I did not feel sad. I could always come back here. What the fuck was I afraid of? I had my best friend, even if we run into a black white supremacist, white supremacists, a nasty goat, or a brother that I am afraid to meet.
I looked over at my best friend, put out my hand and said, “You have a deal. Let’s do this together.”
To be continued in Series E
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