Daily Archives: May 18, 2017

Toilet Gator – Chapter 51

presentation01

Cole stood outside Sharon and Gordon’s hotel room at the Trembley Suites and put his hear up against the door. For a few minutes, he heard nothing until finally…

“ERGH!”

“Shit,” Cole mumbled.

“UNGH! ARRGH!”

Cole backed away from the door. The sounds from inside the room intensified. “UGGGHHH!”

“Should’ve known it,” Cole said. “Like a couple of wild baboons.”

Cole walked down an aisle, feeling sorry for himself until much to his surprise, Sharon rounded a corner carrying a bottle of wine in an ice bucket. Her hair was wet and Cole stared as beads of water trickled down her neck into her bosom. It had been a long time since Cole had seen his lady love wearing nothing but a bathrobe and slippers.

“Cole?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Hi.”

“Something wrong?” Cole said.

“There’s been another murder,” Cole said.

Sharon’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! The Toilet Killer struck again?”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he pointed at the room. “Hey, if you’re out here then what was…”

Sharon ignored the question and hustled towards her room. “Come on.”

“Can’t I just tell you out here?” Cole asked.

“Don’t be silly,” Sharon said. “Gordon will want to know too.”

Sharon popped a key card into the handle reader and the door unlocked. Cole followed Sharon into the room, nervous as to what he might find.

Sure enough, Cole quickly discovered he had good reason to be fearful. There on the ground was the most muscular, ripped, cut man but he had ever seen, pumping up and down.

“ERGH!” Gordon shouted. “ONE THOUSAND ONE….ONE THOUSAND TWO!”

“Gordo!” Sharon said. “Stop doing pushups. Cole has news.”

Gordon sprang to his feet, He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and patted himself down, wiping off his sweaty body. The giant looked at Cole. “Go on.”

It wasn’t that Cole wanted to stare at the massive python dangling between Gordon’s legs, but he couldn’t help it. A) it was like staring at a freak traffic accident and B) Cole became instantly riddled with sadness that it was much, much, much bigger than his or any other average human male’s.

“Could you?” Cole asked.

“What?” Gordon asked as he wiped the sweat from his big bald head. The other one. The one he thought with.

Cole pointed a finger downward.

“Oh,” Gordon said as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “What, you never saw one before?”

Cole cleared his throat. “I try not to make a habit of it.”

“Cole,” Sharon said. “What’s going on?”

Cole tried to blurt out some words but he was taken aback by Gordon’s amazing physique. The man was sporting perfect six-pack abs and a firm set of pecs.

“Jesus,” Cole said.

“Cole?” Sharon asked. “What happened?”

Cole snapped out of it. “Oh…right. Another murder. Roxy. An old stripper. Her real name’s Adelaide Hotchkiss.”

“A stripper?” Sharon asked.

“A stripper,” Gordon said. “An old teacher, a college student, a superstar. There’s no rhyme or reason to this killer’s pattern.”

“We’ve got two suspects at the station,” Cole said. “One’s some kid that was stuck in the trailer. You should have seen it the whole thing was knocked over but anyway…long story. He was babbling on and on about he he had also been on the scene of the Becker murder.”

“Holy shit,” Sharon said.

“Maybe some psycho that likes to stick around too long, admiring his handiwork,” Gordon said.

“Maybe,” Cole replied as he kept his eyes on Sharon, avoiding Gordon’s chiseled frame altogether. “But we also have Roxy’s son at the station. He showed up at his mother’s trailer, saying something about how he ‘tried to warn her.’”
“Warn her about what?” Sharon asked.

“He wouldn’t budge on that,” Cole said. “Thing is though, neither one of them knows they’re suspects yet. We’ve brought them both in on the idea that we’re just really concerned about their well-being but as soon as they wise up, the clock will start ticking on how long we’ll be able to hold them.”

“We’d better hustle,” Sharon said.

“Oh,” Cole said. “And about the victim’s son. He’s Buford Dufresne. The Mayor’s boy.”

“Damn it,” Sharon said. “Now that really complicates things.”

“You know it,” Cole said. “As soon as that horse’s ass catches wind we’ve got his boy…”

“He’ll waltz into the station with every crooked lawyer his used car money can buy,” Sharon said.

“Bingo,” Cole said.

Sharon set her bucket of ice and wine bottle down on a coffee table. “This will have to wait.”

She turned to Gordon. “Put on some pants, studmuffin. We’ve got worked to do.”

Sharon turned to Cole. “Thank you for coming all this way to tell us, Cole. You could have just called.”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he walked toward the door. “Well, you know me.”

“I do,” Sharon said.

Cole walked outside and headed for his cruiser. “Studmuffin? What the…”

Tagged , , , ,

Toilet Gator – Chapter 50

presentation01
Captain Roundtree counted down while his men pointed a firehose at Paul.

“One…two…three!”

Paul was instantly knocked down by the sheer force of the water blast. The men continued to spray the nerd on the ground until his body was no longer covered with the late Roxy’s blood and fecal matter.

“Not again,” Paul mumbled. “Not…not again…not…not again.”

“What’s he saying?” Rusty asked.

Cole helped the kid up to his feet. Paul wrapped his arms around Cole and held on tightly. “This can’t be happening again!”

The chief pushed the young man back and grabbed him by the arms. “What can’t be happening again, son?”

“This!” Paul said. “All of this! This can’t be happening to me again!”

“What’s happening to you?” Cole asked.

“I was outside the bathroom,” Paul said. “Where Chad was…I don’t know…I heard a roar…and I was here and I heard a roar…it’s all happening again!”

Cole and Rusty traded confused looks.

“You were a witness to Chad Becker’s murder?” Cole asked.

“Not directly,” Paul said. “I only looked into the bathroom after it all happened.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” Cole asked.

“I didn’t want to get in any trouble!” Paul said.

A few of Sitwell’s finest milled around, securing the perimeter with yellow caution tape. Burt walked over and threw a blanket around Paul.

“Burt,” Cole said. “Can you take this kid back to the station?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Burt said.

Rusty and Cole followed as Burt guided the youngster into the back of a police cruiser. Once the door was slammed shut, Cole had another request for Burt. “Whatever you do, don’t let him leave.”

“This guy’s that important?” Burt asked. “Looks like a creepy little pervert to me.”

“Just call it a hunch,” Cole said.

Burt shrugged his shoulders. “You’re the boss.”

As Burt pulled away, Cole and Rusty held a meeting of the minds.

“That kid was at both murder scenes,” Rusty said. “You don’t think?”

“I do think,” Cole said.

“Maybe he was just really unlucky,” Rusty said.

“No one’s that unlucky,” Cole said. “Except for me.”

A pickup truck pulled up to the scene. Buford jumped out of the driver’s seat, took one look at the trailer and dropped to his knees. He screamed his balled his eyes out. “Momma! Noooo!”

Buford stood up and ran for the trailer. Cole and Rusty grabbed him, one man on each arm, holding him back.

“There’s no way for you to get in there,” Cole said.

“And you don’t want to see what’s in there,” Rusty added.

“I tried to warn her!” Buford cried. “Momma! Why didn’t you listen to me?! Why?”

“Come again?” Cole asked.

Rusty sniffed and took a deep breath. Seeing that he’d calmed down, the officers let Buford go.

“I tried to warn…” Buford said.

“About?” Cole asked.

Buford came to his senses and dried his eyes with a dirty, booger infested napkin he pulled out of his pocket.

“About smoking,” Buford said. “I told her, ‘Momma, one of these days you’re gonna fall asleep with a cigarette in your mouth and the pilot light on your stove on and blow yourself to Kingdom Come!”

“That’s not what happened,” Cole said.

Buford sniffed. “It isn’t?”

“No,” Cole said.

Rusty rested his hands on his hips. “You always visit your Momma this late, Buford?”

“Maybe,” Buford said. “What, there a law against a being a good son?”

Cole and Rusty traded yet another series of quizzical glances.

“Calm on, fella,” Rusty said as he put his arm around Buford. “Let’s get you back to the police station. Get you a nice cup of coffee.”

“I can drive,” Buford said.

Rusty started walking toward his police cruiser, coaxing Buford to come with him. Cole followed.

“In your condition?” Rusty asked. “Now what kind of an officer of the law would I be if I were to allow that?”

“I don’t really want to go to the police station,” Buford said.

“I know,” Rusty said as he opened the back door to his cruiser. “We hate to put you through this what with you just losing your Momma and all but you know how it is when someone passes on. There’s all sorts of paperwork involved.”

“Paperwork?” Buford asked as he sat down in the back of the cruiser.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Rusty said. “We’ll walk you through it. Easy peasy.

Rusty slammed the car door and pulled Cole aside.

“Holy shit on a monkey stick!” Rusty exclaimed.

“I know,” Cole said. “Two suspects at once.”

“We’re on our way to becoming superstars!” Rusty said. “Gonna have our photos in the paper and everything.”

“You really need to get your priorities straight,” Cole said.

“And you need to get your ass on over to Sharon’s hotel and tell her the good news,” Rusty said.

“What?” Cole asked. “That’s stupid. I’ll just call her.”

“Cole,” Rusty said. “Don’t you want to know if that giant is railing your ex-wife’s vagina?”

Cole looked away. “Please. I’m over it.”

“The vagina that you once thought would never be touched by a penis other than yours?” Rusty asked.

“Stop being stupid,” Cole said. “This case is too important…”

“You’ll never have another opportunity like this again,” Rusty said. “Go on over to her hotel. Put your ear up to the door. If they’re fornicating like a couple of wild baboons in heat in there then you know there’s no hope of you two ever getting back together but if they aren’t…”

“Rusty,” Cole said. “I do not want to get back together with her.”

“Nor should you after what she did to you,” Rusty said. “And I will call you a pussy forever if you do get back together with her but damn it, I can see the way you look at her. It’s the way a fat man looks at a hot fudge sundae. The heart wants what it wants. There’s no logic to it.”

Cole sighed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell her about all this in person.”

“There you go,” Rusty said.

Rusty got into the driver’s seat. Cole started to walk away, then turned around, walked back and tapped on Rusty’s window.

“What?” Rusty asked as he rolled his window down.

“What if they ARE fornicating like a couple of wild baboons in heat?” Cole asked.

Rusty flipped on his flashing lights and siren. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Tagged , ,

Toilet Gator – Chapter 49

presentation01
Like a juicy worm on a hook, Rusty dangled from a line that had been passed through the metal hole in the top of the flipped over trailer. The redhead had been outfitted with a harness that was secured tightly around his crotch and waist and wore a miner’s helmet complete with a bright, shining flashlight secured to it.

“Hold me tight, boys,” Rusty shouted up to Cole and the firemen, who were busy holding the line. “I don’t want to fall into any of this…”

Rusty studied the surroundings. The chairs, the couch, all the furniture, all of Roxy’s belongings were scattered all over. It was as if some dark force grabbed hold of the giant tin can and given it a great big shake. Worse, the walls were soaked with blood and…

“Shit,” Rusty said as he turned to Paul. “Hey kid, when this all happened, was Roxy on the pot?”

“Huh?” Paul asked.

“Son,” Rusty said. “I know you’ve had one helluva night but I’m hanging in mid-air from a rig that’s given me a weapons grade wedgie so pay attention. Was Roxy taking a shit?”

“Yeah,” Paul said. The young man was in such a state of confusion that he was having a hard time figuring out what was going on all around him.

Rusty shined his helmet light downward to find hundreds of smashed up pieces of…

“Porcelain,” Rusty said. “Cole!”

“Yeah?” Cole asked.

“We’ve got another one!” Rusty said.

“Another what?” Cole asked.

“Another toilet murder!” Rusty shouted.

Cole groaned. “You’re shitting me.”

“I shit you not!” Rusty said. “There’s shit everywhere! Roxy must have been having a big time blow out when the killer…”

Rusty caught himself mid-sentence. He looked around frantically. “Kid, is the killer still here?”

Paul pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?!” Rusty asked. “How could you not know?”

“I don’t know!” Paul repeated. “One second everything was fine. The next, the whole place has been knocked over!”

Rusty looked up at the ceiling, which had previously served as the floor. In the part of the trailer that once served as Roxy’s bathroom, the toilet was missing.

“Get your ass over here, boy!” Rusty cried.

Paul obliged his rescuer.

“Lower me down a few feet more!” Rusty shouted.

Rusty’s feet hit the floor. He tied a rope around Paul’s waist, secured it to a metal ring on his harness with a hook, then tugged on the line.

“Pull us up!” Rusty said.

Cole and the firemen heaved and heaved until Rusty and Paul were safely on top of the trailer.

“Is he down there?” Cole asked as he shined a light into the square hole.

“No,” Rusty said. “He’s gone.”

Tagged , ,

Toilet Gator – Chapter 48 (Full)

presentation01

Cole and Rusty stood on top of of Roxy’s trailer and watched as Capt. Rick Roundtree of the Sitwell Fire Department cut into the steel with an ultra-sharp circular saw. Sparks flew everywhere and the Captain had to take periodic breaks every time the blade got too hot.

The Captain flipped open his soldering mask. “What the hell happen here? Buncha drunk kids tip this thing over?”

“Beats me,” Cole replied. “Manager just called saying he heard a big fuss and when he came out, Old Roxy’s place was like this.”

“Weird,” the Captain said as he flipped his mask down. “Because it’s not like its hurricane season so I doubt the damn thing didn’t just blow over.”

Captain Roundtree continued to cut.

Rusty nudged Cole in the ribs. “Hey Cole. Maybe this trailer was a-rockin’ when someone came a-knockin.’”

Cole stood there in silence.

“Get it?” Rusty asked.

Cole did not respond.

“Because, you know, Roxy’s been known to dabble in the world’s oldest profession,” Rusty said.

Still, no response from Cole.

“Roxy’s a hooker!” Rusty said. “You get it?”

“Oh yeah,” Cole said. “I got it but first, if you have to explain it, then it’s not funny and second, there’s a woman’s life at stake here. Does everything have to be a joke with you?”

“I wouldn’t say, ‘everything,’” Rusty said. “But I like to think if the situation were reversed and I was trapped in a knocked over trailer I wouldn’t mind if someone had a few laughs at my expense.”

“Grow up,” Cole said.

“People gotta laugh, Cole,” Rusty said. “People gotta find happiness in this twisted world wherever they can find it.”

The Captain switched off his saw and set it aside. He and a few other firemen then removed a large, square section of steel. Captain Roundtree took a flashlight off of his belt and shined it down into the darkness of the turned over trailer.

“Hello!” Captain Roundtree. “Fire department! Anyone down there?”

A few seconds past before a very weak sounding Paul answered. “Hello?”

The Captain searched around the trailer with his light until he landed the beam on Paul’s face. Paul was slathered with a thick coat of blood, water, and a brown substance which could have only been…

“Shit!” the Captain said as he looked up at Cole. “You gotta see this.”

Cole joined the Captain. He took out his flashlight, squatted down over the square hole and peered down at Paul. “You alright?”

“Are we talking physically or emotionally?” Paul asked.

“Physical’s my main concern at the moment,” Cole answered as he leaned down and shoved his hand into the square hole. “Take my hand, son.”

Paul reached for Cole’s hand but it was no use. He stood up on his tippy toes. He tried jumping for it. The kid was just too short.

“Damn it,” Cole said. “Someone will have to go down there.”

Cole waited for someone to step up, but all the firemen looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t everyone volunteer at once now,” Cole said.

All the firemen began whistling jaunty tunes, pretending they couldn’t hear the police chief.

“Fine,” Cole said. “I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” Rusty said. “I’ll do it.”

Cole was surprised. “You will?”

“Damn right I will,” Rusty said. “Cole, I never told you this but every once in awhile, old Chief Haskell and I get together and have a few beers and get down on ourselves for not following you into Wade Randolph’s shack that night. Hell, I hate to play the ‘woulda, shoulda, coulda’ game but it’s been hard for the old chief and I to not think about the possibility that maybe, just maybe, had all three of us worked together, we could have taken down that vicious dog no sweat.”

“I have no doubt that all three of could shot that dog dead instantly,” Cole said.

Rusty stared off at the moon, lost in thought. “I know whenever I think about that day, I say to myself, ‘If I’d only manned up, would Cole still have his leg?”

“Yes,” Cole said. “I most certainly would.”

“Would Cole’s wife never have run out on him?” Rusty asked.

“She would not have,” Cole replied.

“Would Cole be a happier man today?”

“A thousand times happier,” Cole said. “Without question.”

Rusty snapped out of his philosophical trance and looked down the hole. “I’m not gonna fail you twice, buddy.”

Tagged , , , ,

Toilet Gator – Chapter 48

presentation01
Cole and Rusty stood on top of of Roxy’s trailer and watched as Capt. Rick Roundtree of the Sitwell Fire Department cut into the steel with an ultra-sharp circular saw. Sparks flew everywhere and the Captain had to take periodic breaks every time the blade got too hot.

The Captain flipped open his soldering mask. “What the hell happen here? Buncha drunk kids tip this thing over?”

“Beats me,” Cole replied. “Manager just called saying he heard a big fuss and when he came out, Old Roxy’s place was like this.”

“Weird,” the Captain said as he flipped his mask down. “Because it’s not like its hurricane season so I doubt the damn thing didn’t just blow over.”

Captain Roundtree continued to cut.

Rusty nudged Cole in the ribs. “Hey Cole. Maybe this trailer was a-rockin’ when someone came a-knockin.’”

Cole stood there in silence.

“Get it?” Rusty asked.

Cole did not respond.

“Because, you know, Roxy’s been known to dabble in the world’s oldest profession,” Rusty said.

Still, no response from Cole.

“Roxy’s a hooker!” Rusty said. “You get it?”

“Oh yeah,” Cole said. “I got it but first, if you have to explain it, then it’s not funny and second, there’s a woman’s life at stake here. Does everything have to be a joke with you?”

“I wouldn’t say, ‘everything,’” Rusty said. “But I like to think if the situation were reversed and I was trapped in a knocked over trailer I wouldn’t mind if someone had a few laughs at my expense.”

“Grow up,” Cole said.

“People gotta laugh, Cole,” Rusty said. “People gotta find happiness in this twisted world wherever they can find it.”

The Captain switched off his saw and set it aside. He and a few other firemen then removed a large, square section of steel. Captain Roundtree took a flashlight off of his belt and shined it down into the darkness of the turned over trailer.

“Hello!” Captain Roundtree. “Fire department! Anyone down there?”

A few seconds past before a very weak sounding Paul answered. “Hello?”

The Captain searched around the trailer with his light until he landed the beam on Paul’s face. Paul was slathered with a thick coat of blood, water, and a brown substance which could have only been…

“Shit!” the Captain said as he looked up at Cole. “You gotta see this.”

Cole joined the Captain. He took out his flashlight, squatted down over the square hole and peered down at Paul. “You alright?”

“Are we talking physically or emotionally?” Paul asked.

“Physical’s my main concern at the moment,” Cole answered as he leaned down and shoved his hand into the square hole. “Take my hand, son.”

Paul reached for Cole’s hand but it was no use. He stood up on his tippy toes. He tried jumping for it. The kid was just too short.

“Damn it,” Cole said. “Someone will have to go down there.”

Cole waited for someone to step up, but all the firemen looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t everyone volunteer at once now,” Cole said.

Tagged , , , ,

Daily Discussion with BQB – God, Is It Really Necessary for Old People to Get Physically Old?

Holy-Bible-3D-2016060102

Hey God.  Godster.  Godamundo.  God-a-rama.  The Godmeister, makin’ copies.

Your devoted servant, BQB here.  I know you can hear me even if I don’t post my thoughts on a website that only has 3.5 readers.

Listen, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your business here.  You don’t come to my work and slap the pizza out of my mouth, so I don’t go to your crib and tell you how to supervise the angels and so forth.

But check it.  If you’ve got a suggestion box lying around, I’d like to pop one in there and you can take it or leave it.

You know old people get older, and older, and even older?

Right, and do you know how people start out in life looking like happy young people and by the end they all look like the Crypt Keeper?

Thought:  What if, and follow me on this one, what if:

A) everyone gets a standard 100 years.  No more worrying when you’re going to die, when it will happen, will it happen too early, will I leave my loved ones too soon?  No more young people getting into freak accidents that cut their lives short.  No more old people suffering through their last years in the hospital, having surgery after surgery with all sorts of machines hooked up to them.

100 years.  That’s it.  Everyone knows up front that 100 years after their birth date, whammo!  That’s all she wrote.

Also:

B)  What if, and again, hear me out, no one had to get physically old?  Again, no diseases or health problems or gray hair or baldness or people ending up with hair growing out of their ears and hobbling around with hunchbacks while leaning on their canes?

How about everyone stops aging at, say, 25 and then we all keep looking like when did when were 25 until we’re 100 and then bam, we just drop.

And as a reminder, when we drop, that’s it, we drop.  No agony.  No pain.  No extended hospital stays.  Everyone just throws a big ass party on their last day and when their last second is up, they just switch off like a powered down robot someone just flipped the button to off on.

I know, human suffering makes us all the more stronger for whatever you have planned for us in the afterlife but if you think about it, you’ve already given us this great world and this great gift of life and the idea, the very idea that one day we’ll have to give this all up…doesn’t that hurt enough?

Is it really necessary for us to all end up looking like Abe Vigoda?  Is it all really necessary for us to get cancer, or heart complications, or syphilis or the clap or have our heads knocked in by one of your less virtuous creations who is convinced he needs our money more than we do?

Just let us stay young for 100 years…then switch us off.  No muss.  No fuss.

Like I said, God, just a thought.  It’s in the suggestion box.  You like it?  You run with it.  Don’t like it.  It’s your call, boss.  It’s your call.

Keep being you, G-Man.  Keep being you.

Sincerely,

BQB, Your Ever So Pious Servant, Educating the 3.5 Heathens who Frequent this Fine Blog Sicne 2014.

 

 

 

 

Tagged , , , , , , , ,