Toilet Gator – Chapter 73


Buford pulled into an abandoned lot and got out of his truck, AR-15 in hand.

“Skippy,” Buford said into the microphone on his headset. “I’m coming down to talk to you in person. I want a little face time.”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“Don’t you talk back to me, young man,” Buford said.

“Raarga, raarga!” Skippy replied.

“Fine,” Buford said. “I still think it’s dumb for you to kill again but if you really feel that you’re hopeless hooked on human flesh now then maybe we can work something out. Maybe there are some homeless drifters out there that no one would miss but you can’t just keep pulling off all these high profile murders. We need to be smart about this.”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“No,” Buford replied. “I’m not going to call the news lady again. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into that the first time. Wait, that’s what this is really all about, isn’t it?”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“You’re a glory hound, aren’t you?” Buford asked. “A voyeur.”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“You want to be the most famous alligator that ever lived?” Buford asked.

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“That’s just ridiculous,” Skippy said. “Hold on. I’m coming down there and we’re going to talk this thing out all civil like. And just so you know, I brought my rifle with me, not like it’ll do much good against you but I’m sure it still smarts. You be a gentleman and don’t hurt me and I’ll have no reason to use it.”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

Buford pulled a crowbar out of the back of his truck and knelt over a manhole cover. He pried the cover off and struggled to move it as it was so heavy. Ever so slowly, he then crawled down a step ladder into the stinky abyss below.

Moments later, Rusty and Bishop emerged from the shadow of a nearby dilapidated old building. They had been listening in the entire time.

“Skippy?” Bishop asked.

“The most famous alligator that ever lived?” Rusty asked.

“There is some next level insanity going on here,” Buford said.

Rusty pulled a flashlight off his belt and shined it down the open manhole. “We should call for backup.”

“No time,” Bishop said.

“You think we should just go down there by ourselves?” Rusty asked. “With him talking crazy talk and carrying a manstopper?”

Bishop took off his jacket, folded it, and laid it on the hood of Buford’s truck. “You do what you want, but I’m in charge of this thing and if there’s a chance I can keep another victim from being killed on the can…”

“You’re right,” Rusty said. “You lead the way. I’ll follow up behind.”

Bishop lowered his body into the open hole and set his feet on the first rung of the ladder. He looked up at Rusty.

“By ‘behind’ I mean I’ll watch your back,” Rusty said. “As in I’ll keep an eye out to make sure you don’t get shot.”

“I know,” Bishop said.

“I didn’t mean I want to give it to you from behind,” Rusty said.

“I didn’t think you did,” Bishop said.

“Good,” Rusty said. “Because I thought about that too and the idea of me putting my drill bit in another man’s socket gives me the heebie jeebies.”

“OK,” Bishop said.

“I’m not a top or a bottom,” Rusty said. “I’m strictly just a man on man cuddler.”

“Now really isn’t the time to talk about this,” Bishop said.

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