CHAPTER 18: BOLOGNA SANDWICHES AND AN ENEMA BAG
"You shot him," she said, and I had to admit she was right. Nothing gets past these Earth women.
"I don't think I hurt him too bad, his pants are still dry."
Whatever passed for normal conversation in this joint resumed as two throwback doormen bounced the stiff out of the doorway and onto the sidewalk. I guess you see that sort of thing all the time in this town. At least I had some young nubile's attention. She looked good, but not too good. Sort of a cross between Annette Funicello and Vampira.
"Care to dance, dollface?"
"I can't. Dancing brings too much oxygen to my brain."
Goddamn, shut down again. Seems like every move you make around here lands you in the deep freeze. Still, she wasn't leaving and that's always part one. Part two came when she said --
Caramba! This little floozy was talking my language now. She spread two thin rails on the sloppy bar top and it was more than I could do to keep from snorting both of them and downing her margarita, little pink umbrella and all. The meth dripped down my throat and into my bloodstream sending rhythmic arcs of light and shadow pulsing through my brain.
As I stared at the cracks in the ceiling I realized I was flat on my back again. Revived by a bucket of suds, I felt just a twinge of remorse for my habits. At the end of the day though, they were the only things I could count on.
This planet was something else again. A harlot on every corner and nothing on the jukebox. But, somewhere down here there was a Martian girl with my name on her lips and nowhere to go but straight downward.
The skirt was on fire as she helped me to my feet and dusted me off. Fluorescent light played with the beginnings of crows feet and disillusion tugged at the corners of her face.
"Listen, do you think you could do me a favor?"
I could think of about a dozen, only a few of which included farm implements and Krisco, but she had other ideas.
"Could you kill me too? I tried it once, and I'm not sure if it worked or not, but it really turned me on."
Well didn't that beat all? Here she was, hot and cool and anything in between, with everything to live for. Everything but the will. I could still see a brighter tomorrow for us, starlight streaming through crushed velour curtains as we bred the beast with two backs and a gizzard.
"Couldn't we pack a few bologna sandwiches and an enema bag and get back to nature instead?"
"I'd rather die."
She came over all peaceful like a hooker at a funeral and I pumped three in her gut. What the hell, I hate hip girls anyway.
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CHAPTER 19: THE LONG HELLO