Carl arose from bed yet again. His days as a garbage man he knew were numbered. Yet, he dressed himself for work in the bleary haste that comes with years of habit....
...he reflected on the events that had led to the situation he now found himself in: a small Crown Royal velvet bag full of what he was almost sure were real diamonds, and a chainsaw, owner unknown, and a hastily wrapped human foot, male, in the trunk of his car.
He wasn't sure why he had agreed to marry Maude's sister, Jennifer. Except, of course, that Jennifer had the kind of knockers that made otherwise sigle minded men want to settle down and become garbage men.
This goes before Ellen's post: Carl stumbled to the phone and dialed the only number he knew by heart. He hated the fact that it was Ed's. "Hey, Einstein," he growled when Ed finally answered on the fourteenth ring. "How about you help me clean up this mess?" Ed groaned. "Let's wait until tonight." It'll be cooler then." "Yeah, okay, Ed. You can explain everything to Maude." They met in the desert an hour later.
Still, he was glad he hadn't found in his car what Ed had in his: the rest of Mr. Toe Ring, at least 300 pounds of him, all dressed up in a wrap dress and matching Manolo Blahnik sandals (or rather, sandal, since Carl's little souvenir was barefoot except for the bling)and handbag, empty, of course.
Carl may have had a secret...But Ed, rough as he seemed on the surface, had a bigger secret. He liked bicycles! Many a Sunday, when all his Harley friends were at Mass...Ed would sneak out and pedal, fast! Swish, Swish, swish, he could have churned butter...when he was on his stingray he didn't care anymore about the Montrose Brothers...he loved the wind in his whiskers! His cell phone rang again, "Dammit, why does Carl keep calling?"... Maude, smaude, I better help Carl.
As Carl dug, Ed pulled a cold, sweating can of beer from the cooler in the backseat. Ed studied the huge corpse and Carl studied Ed from lowered brows. With each thud of dirt that hit the ground from his shovel, Carl felt his heart beat heavier and faster. Contempt and resentment flew from his hands one shovelful at a time, collecting into a growing pile of malicious intent. I wish this was Ed's grave... Carl thought. It began to drizzle.
Back at Carl's house, Jennifer opened the door for Maude, dressed in a sheer robe. "You really look the part, sis," Maude smirked. Jen shot Maude a disgusted look and fixed Martinis. She joined Maude on the couch and began to file a long, blood-red nail. "I'm tired of wearing cheap clothes and smelling like a french whore. When this job is finished I'm taking some time off." "Don't worry, we'll both be able to take a vacation after this score. The insurance policy is nice by itself... just find out where he hid the diamonds, or we'll be finding you a new husband by Valentine's Day." Maude sipped her drink and smiled. "Why don't we find YOU a new husband next time?" Jen snarled. Maude's smile grew wider. "Because, sis, you're the one with the goods that turn men into drooling idiots." Not hard to do in Carl and Ed's cases, Jen thought.
As he and Ed dug the grave his resentment grew. Maude was Ed's wife so Ed was his brother-in-law. He had had to sufffer Ed's presence for so many years they had piled up like the pile of porn in Ed's closet. He thought of Ed making moves on Jennifer a couple of year ago before the four of them had settled on who belonged to who. The rage within Karl grew.
When the hole was large enough He and Ed pulled the massive frame out of the trunk. "This guy was going to die soon anyway" Carl rationalized to himself.
As they pushed the body into the hole Carl pulled the gun from his jacket pocket, rammed the nose to the side of Ed's head and pulled the trigger. It was now a grave for two.
Jen and Maude were in for a big surprise. Carl had the insurance policy, he was supposed to die first, that was the plan. Ed had thought he was a player, but the truth was, he was supposed to take the fall, and Jen and Maude would quietly disappear after making shocked, tear-streaked appearances on the morning news. Carl pulled into his driveway, white-knuckled and sweating. The sight of Maude's car parked at the curb nearly made him panick. How would he explain Ed's absence to Maude? She already held a deep, dark secret over his head... the cold witch would own him now.
Out on Highway 13, about 7 miles north of Bug Tussel, newly-minted Sheriff's Deputy Dwayne Halpern scowled down the shimmering pavement. Still smarting from the hazing he'd received at roll call this morning, his first morning on the job, he drove to a promising speed-trap location and secreted his car behind a billboard. "Call ME Harelip" he muttered as he unsheathed the speed gun. Checking to make sue the shotgun was in its bracket and ready to go, he comfortably settled into his very first law enforcement function. He was confident, having received a B- in "Catching Speeders 101" at the Acadamy.
The searing blast and brilliant light were but a dream, but startling and concussive enough to awaken Ed from his dream. "Boy, what a dream" he groggily thought to himself as he regained consciousness. "That would be a bad day for me if the sun exploded". He suddenly became aware of a searing pain in the side of his head. He couldn't move. He could barely open his eyes and they immediatly started burning. He managed to open his mouth and a worm crawled in. He was buried alive!
He could barely move, the dirt was damp and heavy, but not solid. Ed squirmed into his pants pocket and pulled out his bicycle tire pump...he needed air! Hose in mouth, he was able to slightly pump, between his knees. He moaned ...Carl, you bastard! Then his cell phone rang...he wondered if his phone service had GPS.
"It'll never sell, DJ" Saul said. He studied the end of his cigar for a moment. "I know we've re-made George of the Jungle and Scooby Doo and the Flintstones but I just don't think people will plunk down good money for a re-make of Daffy Dumbass Duck and Porky pig. I know Will Farrell wants to play Daffy but I think it's a loser." Saul swiveled his chair around amid a swirl of cigar smoke. He looked out the plate glass window and it looked like the whole world was out there. "No DJ, we're done re-hashing garbage. Somewhere out there is a story, a good one, with greed and betrayal and violence and death and panic and sex and big stakes. We've got to find something new, something real, something awful and fascinating, and make that movie. That'll sell. We just have to find it, but where?
Reality shows Saul, that's what the public wants. Doesn't have to be classy...we could have "vegans vs. carnivors"...we'll call it "MEAT OR NO MEAT"...loser on each team will have to have an eat-out at the end of the show, to stay on! Vegan has to eat hamburgers and soy burgers for the other...it's a GREAT idea Saul! Saul swiveled back, away from the window and quietly stared at DJ, and slowly smiled. He opened his cigar humidor and pulled out a pistol, leaned under his desk and shot DJ in the foot... and yelling, said "Fool idea, it only has greed betrayal and panic...where's the DEATH VIOLENCE and SEX!"
Deputy Halpern couldn't believe his good luck. Not ten minutes after setting up a speed trap north of town, he watched an old Torino racing along the highway, at least 20 miles over the limit. A cloud of white smoke followed it, possibly caused by whatever was making the car roar like a wounded water buffalo. He pulled out from behind the billboard, his siren and lights already going strong. He actually saw the moment when the guy considered making a run for it, and saw the moment pass as the guy looked along a straightaway that stretched out for miles to the horizon. The car pulled off to the side of the highway, coughing and belching smoke. Halpern strode to the side of the car. The driver's hands had a death grip on the wheel, his knuckles white. He was looking down the road with a vacant stare while sweat trickled down the side of his face. Halpern rapped on the closed driver-side window with his club. This guy had something to hide. Halpern was going to find it.
Carl rolled down his window and stared into the grim face of the highway patrolman. Together, he had to keep his act together! "Hi, Officer," he said wanly. "License and registration." The officer didn't bother with a "please." "You were doing more than 20 over the limit." Carl fished out his wallet and extracted his license, which had expired three months ago. He opened the glove box, saw the Crown Royal bag sitting on top of his papers and nearly passed out. He got out his registration and handed it to the officer with visibly shaking hands. The cop smiled at him thinly. "Your license is expired." "Oh, it is? Are you sure?" Lame! Lame! "I'm sorry, I thought it was good for another year." Just then Carl's cell phone rang, Damn! Only three people had his cell number, and he didn't want to talk to any of them in front of this cop, who didn't look like he was going to cut him any slack at all. Halpern leaned in the car window, his smile stretching real wide and folksy. "Aren't you going to get that?" Carl reluctantly answered his phone. "Yeah," he mumbled. "A-a-a-r-gh! Carl, you bastard! I'm not dead! Get me out - " Carl snapped the phone shut. "Just the guys at work messing around," he said faintly, a buzzing sound starting to grow louder in his ears. He felt detached, as if he were watvhing the scene through glass. Halpern's grin grew bigger still. He looked like Andy Griffith without a soul.
"That Ed, he's such a joker!" Carl said as he snapped shut his Nokia. "I was in such a hurry to get gas for my John Deere mower down at the BP, that I musta overlooked my speed. I admit I'm a little dirty from mowing Sarah's." Halpern leered over the edge of his Raybans and felt that familiar twinge in his chest, his gun-hand felt sweaty. "You think you can fool a Hamline University Grad?"
31 comments:
Carl arose from bed yet again. His days as a garbage man he knew were numbered. Yet, he dressed himself for work in the bleary haste that comes with years of habit....
...he reflected on the events that had led to the situation he now found himself in: a small Crown Royal velvet bag full of what he was almost sure were real diamonds, and a chainsaw, owner unknown, and a hastily wrapped human foot, male, in the trunk of his car.
What kind of man, he wondered, wears a toe ring? Ah well. Either way, Maude would not be pleased.
He wasn't sure why he had agreed to marry Maude's sister, Jennifer. Except, of course, that Jennifer had the kind of knockers that made otherwise sigle minded men want to settle down and become garbage men.
Ed threw a shovel at Carl's chest.
"Well, I'm not gonna do all the diggin' myself. Get going. This poor loser has to be down at least eight feet, a fat ass like him."
Carl sighed and dropped the foot. It hit the dirt like a ton of bricks. Carl's head hurt so bad it was hard to keep his eyes open.
what happens if we break the rule?
This goes before Ellen's post:
Carl stumbled to the phone and dialed the only number he knew by heart. He hated the fact that it was Ed's.
"Hey, Einstein," he growled when Ed finally answered on the fourteenth ring. "How about you help me clean up this mess?"
Ed groaned. "Let's wait until tonight." It'll be cooler then."
"Yeah, okay, Ed. You can explain everything to Maude."
They met in the desert an hour later.
Still, he was glad he hadn't found in his car what Ed had in his: the rest of Mr. Toe Ring, at least 300 pounds of him, all dressed up in a wrap dress and matching Manolo Blahnik sandals (or rather, sandal, since Carl's little souvenir was barefoot except for the bling)and handbag, empty, of course.
Carl had already decided to keep Ed in the dark about the diamonds.
Carl may have had a secret...But Ed, rough as he seemed on the surface, had a bigger secret. He liked bicycles!
Many a Sunday, when all his Harley friends were at Mass...Ed would sneak out and pedal, fast! Swish, Swish, swish, he could have churned butter...when he was on his stingray he didn't care anymore about the Montrose Brothers...he loved the wind in his whiskers!
His cell phone rang again, "Dammit, why does Carl keep calling?"...
Maude, smaude, I better help Carl.
As Carl dug, Ed pulled a cold, sweating can of beer from the cooler in the backseat. Ed studied the huge corpse and Carl studied Ed from lowered brows. With each thud of dirt that hit the ground from his shovel, Carl felt his heart beat heavier and faster. Contempt and resentment flew from his hands one shovelful at a time, collecting into a growing pile of malicious intent.
I wish this was Ed's grave... Carl thought.
It began to drizzle.
Back at Carl's house, Jennifer opened the door for Maude, dressed in a sheer robe.
"You really look the part, sis," Maude smirked.
Jen shot Maude a disgusted look and fixed Martinis. She joined Maude on the couch and began to file a long, blood-red nail.
"I'm tired of wearing cheap clothes and smelling like a french whore. When this job is finished I'm taking some time off."
"Don't worry, we'll both be able to take a vacation after this score. The insurance policy is nice by itself... just find out where he hid the diamonds, or we'll be finding you a new husband by Valentine's Day." Maude sipped her drink and smiled.
"Why don't we find YOU a new husband next time?" Jen snarled.
Maude's smile grew wider.
"Because, sis, you're the one with the goods that turn men into drooling idiots."
Not hard to do in Carl and Ed's cases, Jen thought.
As he and Ed dug the grave his resentment grew. Maude was Ed's wife so Ed was his brother-in-law. He had had to sufffer Ed's presence for so many years they had piled up like the pile of porn in Ed's closet. He thought of Ed making moves on Jennifer a couple of year ago before the four of them had settled on who belonged to who. The rage within Karl grew.
When the hole was large enough He and Ed pulled the massive frame out of the trunk. "This guy was going to die soon anyway" Carl rationalized to himself.
As they pushed the body into the hole Carl pulled the gun from his jacket pocket, rammed the nose to the side of Ed's head and pulled the trigger. It was now a grave for two.
Jen and Maude were in for a big surprise. Carl had the insurance policy, he was supposed to die first, that was the plan. Ed had thought he was a player, but the truth was, he was supposed to take the fall, and Jen and Maude would quietly disappear after making shocked, tear-streaked appearances on the morning news.
Carl pulled into his driveway, white-knuckled and sweating. The sight of Maude's car parked at the curb nearly made him panick. How would he explain Ed's absence to Maude? She already held a deep, dark secret over his head... the cold witch would own him now.
Boy-the Yankees sure crashed and burned in the post season, didn't they?
Out on Highway 13, about 7 miles north of Bug Tussel, newly-minted Sheriff's Deputy Dwayne Halpern scowled down the shimmering pavement. Still smarting from the hazing he'd received at roll call this morning, his first morning on the job, he drove to a promising speed-trap location and secreted his car behind a billboard. "Call ME Harelip" he muttered as he unsheathed the speed gun. Checking to make sue the shotgun was in its bracket and ready to go, he comfortably settled into his very first law enforcement function. He was confident, having received a B- in "Catching Speeders 101" at the Acadamy.
Just then the sun went super-nova and fried the solar system.
The searing blast and brilliant light were but a dream, but startling and concussive enough to awaken Ed from his dream. "Boy, what a dream" he groggily thought to himself as he regained consciousness. "That would be a bad day for me if the sun exploded". He suddenly became aware of a searing pain in the side of his head. He couldn't move. He could barely open his eyes and they immediatly started burning. He managed to open his mouth and a worm crawled in. He was buried alive!
He could barely move, the dirt was damp and heavy, but not solid. Ed squirmed into his pants pocket and pulled out his bicycle tire pump...he needed air! Hose in mouth, he was able to slightly pump, between his knees. He moaned ...Carl, you bastard! Then his cell phone rang...he wondered if his phone service had GPS.
(please someone post... I know mine is ridiculous, but...)
since we're getting ridiculous:
Then Daffy Duck smashed Elmer Fudd with a mallet while Porky Pig and Bugs Bunny freshened up thier lipstick.
"It'll never sell, DJ" Saul said. He studied the end of his cigar for a moment. "I know we've re-made George of the Jungle and Scooby Doo and the Flintstones but I just don't think people will plunk down good money for a re-make of Daffy Dumbass Duck and Porky pig. I know Will Farrell wants to play Daffy but I think it's a loser."
Saul swiveled his chair around amid a swirl of cigar smoke. He looked out the plate glass window and it looked like the whole world was out there. "No DJ, we're done re-hashing garbage. Somewhere out there is a story, a good one, with greed and betrayal and violence and death and panic and sex and big stakes. We've got to find something new, something real, something awful and fascinating, and make that movie. That'll sell. We just have to find it, but where?
Reality shows Saul, that's what the public wants. Doesn't have to be classy...we could have "vegans vs. carnivors"...we'll call it "MEAT OR NO MEAT"...loser on each team will have to have an eat-out at the end of the show, to stay on! Vegan has to eat hamburgers and soy burgers for the other...it's a GREAT idea Saul!
Saul swiveled back, away from the window and quietly stared at DJ, and slowly smiled. He opened his cigar humidor and pulled out a pistol, leaned under his desk and shot DJ in the foot... and yelling, said "Fool idea, it only has greed betrayal and panic...where's the DEATH VIOLENCE and SEX!"
Deputy Halpern couldn't believe his good luck. Not ten minutes after setting up a speed trap north of town, he watched an old Torino racing along the highway, at least 20 miles over the limit. A cloud of white smoke followed it, possibly caused by whatever was making the car roar like a wounded water buffalo. He pulled out from behind the billboard, his siren and lights already going strong. He actually saw the moment when the guy considered making a run for it, and saw the moment pass as the guy looked along a straightaway that stretched out for miles to the horizon. The car pulled off to the side of the highway, coughing and belching smoke.
Halpern strode to the side of the car. The driver's hands had a death grip on the wheel, his knuckles white. He was looking down the road with a vacant stare while sweat trickled down the side of his face. Halpern rapped on the closed driver-side window with his club. This guy had something to hide. Halpern was going to find it.
Carl rolled down his window and stared into the grim face of the highway patrolman. Together, he had to keep his act together!
"Hi, Officer," he said wanly.
"License and registration." The officer didn't bother with a "please." "You were doing more than 20 over the limit."
Carl fished out his wallet and extracted his license, which had expired three months ago. He opened the glove box, saw the Crown Royal bag sitting on top of his papers and nearly passed out. He got out his registration and handed it to the officer with visibly shaking hands.
The cop smiled at him thinly. "Your license is expired."
"Oh, it is? Are you sure?" Lame! Lame! "I'm sorry, I thought it was good for another year."
Just then Carl's cell phone rang, Damn! Only three people had his cell number, and he didn't want to talk to any of them in front of this cop, who didn't look like he was going to cut him any slack at all.
Halpern leaned in the car window, his smile stretching real wide and folksy. "Aren't you going to get that?"
Carl reluctantly answered his phone. "Yeah," he mumbled.
"A-a-a-r-gh! Carl, you bastard! I'm not dead! Get me out - "
Carl snapped the phone shut. "Just the guys at work messing around," he said faintly, a buzzing sound starting to grow louder in his ears. He felt detached, as if he were watvhing the scene through glass.
Halpern's grin grew bigger still. He looked like Andy Griffith without a soul.
Don't you like that "Andy Griffith without a soul?"
"That Ed, he's such a joker!" Carl said as he snapped shut his Nokia. "I was in such a hurry to get gas for my John Deere mower down at the BP, that I musta overlooked my speed. I admit I'm a little dirty from mowing Sarah's." Halpern leered over the edge of his Raybans and felt that familiar twinge in his chest, his gun-hand felt sweaty. "You think you can fool a Hamline University Grad?"
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