Tag Archives: horror

Son of Toilet Gator – Chapter 6

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Dirk and Natalya had settled into a cozy, private bedroom in the Imperial Honcho’s estate. Together, they eased back onto the bed and engaged in a rousing game of big league tonsil hockey.

“Oh Mr. Smegma,” Natalya cried as she ran her hands through her new lover’s hair.

“Please. Call me Dirk.”

“Oh Dirk! Your scent it’s so…manly.”

“Nothing but one hundred percent Eau de Dirk, baby,” Dirk said. “I find that the more cologne I put on, the more I mask my naturally macho odor and when I do that, the ladies are left disappointed.”

“I’m sure you do all you can to avoid being a disappointment,” Natalya said.

“In life and in the bedroom, baby,” Dirk said as he went in for another kiss, only to be rebuffed when Natalya pressed her finger up against his lips.

“Hold that thought, darling. I must tinkle.”

“I understand,” Dirk said. “You wouldn’t be the first woman to lose bladder control in my presence and I doubt you’ll be the last. Do hurry back my dear.”

As Natalya retreated to the bathroom, Kendra squawked in Dirk’s ear. “Dirk! What are you doing?!”

“Uh,” Dirk whispered into a tiny microphone implanted in his shirt collar. “What does it sound like I’m doing? I’m about to get my pickle tickled, duh!”

“Have you placed the tracker on the Imperial Honcho’s toilet yet?” Kendra asked.

“Not now, K-Diddy,” Dirk said. “I’ve got a piece of fabulously wealthy Russian cooze to attend to.”

“We’re on a tight schedule here!” Kendra said.

“Oh I know it’s going to be very tight,” Dirk said. “But don’t worry, I’ll squeeze it in.”

“Pervert,” Kendra said. “Do I really have to go over the mission particulars with you?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Dirk said. “But you will anyway…”

“Damn right I will,” Kendra said. “As we speak, Skippy Jr. is waiting in the septic tank. We have twenty minutes before the guards on our payroll bury the tank so they can avoid being caught. You need to get to that toilet, mark it, get the hell out of there and leave Skippy Jr. enough time to chow down on the Honcho, and exit out of the tank just in time to be snatched by the skyhook.”

“Which leaves me roughly five minutes to plant my skyhook in some snatch,” Dirk said. “Plenty of time.”

“Five minutes?” Kendra asked. “I wouldn’t brag about that.”

“Bshh bzzt,” Dirk said. “Oh no, Special-K, you’re breaking up…”

“Don’t you cut me off, Smegma,” Kendra said.

“Bzzt bshhk,” Dirk said. “Oh my God I’m just going to have to enjoy some meaningless, gratuitous sex with a beautiful woman and then go save the day.”

“Dirk,” Kendra said. “Gamble with your own life all you want, but you’re putting Skippy Jr. at risk.”

“Skippy Jr.?” Dirk asked. “Who cares? He’s just a dumb alligator. If we lose him we can just get that crazy professor to make some more.”

A third voice entered Dirk’s earpiece. “Raarga.”

Dirk’s eyes widened. “Oh…hey Skippy Jr., how are you doing buddy?”

“Raarga.”

“Gee whiz,” Dirk said. “I didn’t know this was a party line.”

“Raarga.”

“Don’t mind him, Skippy Jr.,” Kendra said. “He knows not what he does.”

The bathroom door opened. Natalya stepped out. She had changed into a skimpy, silky piece of lingerie. She’d let her hair down and removed her shoes.

“I’m sorry I took so long, Dirk,” Natalya said. “I had to change into something more comfortable.”

Dirk gulped as he checked out Natalya’s body. “Mind? No, I don’t have a mind at all.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” came Kendra’s voice into the earpiece. “You think women just walk around with a sexy outfit to change into? The bitch is probably a spy.”

Dirk ignored Kendra and patted a spot on the bed next to him. The lady sat down, kissed Dirk passionately, then lifted her leg up into the air, landing the foot on Dirk’s right shoulder.

“Tell me, Dirk,” Natalya said. “Are you a leg man?”
“I’m actually an ass man,” Dirk replied. “Though I’ve never been one to sneeze at a pair of getaway sticks as lovely as these.”

“Getaway sticks?” Natalya asked.

“Just a fun term we use for legs in the U.S.,” Dirk said. “Because they’re a couple of sticks a woman can use to get away.”

Natalya used her foot to push on the side of Dirk’s head until he laid back on the bed.

“I love my legs, don’t you?” Natalya asked.

“Oh sweetheart,” Dirk said. “I love everything about you.”

“Gag me,” came Kendra’s voice.

“Tell me, Dirk,” Natalya said. “Do you enjoy the taste of a woman?”

“Meh,” Dirk said. “I prefer to receive than give, baby, but I’m always down with a little cunnilingus if the favor is returned.”

Natalya straddled Dirk’s face, leaving a panty clad vagina to land right on his face.

“Oh,” Dirk said. “Hello there, that’s quite a…mmpphh!”

“Dirk,” came Kendra’s voice. “I’m reviewing Natayla Snatchatova’s file and it’s no good. You need to get out of there right now.”

Natalya pushed herself further down onto Dirk’s face, leaving the agent so he could barely breathe. “Mmpph!”

“Her father is Anatoly Popov’s number one campaign contributor,” Kendra said. “She’s involved in all sorts of black market dealings…”

“How’s that, my love?” Natalya asked.

Dirk’s muffled cries for help grew more serious. “Mmmph!”

“She’s a top hit woman for the FSB,” Kendra said. “Interpol suspects of her murdering fifty men with her vagina alone.”

Dirk grabbed hold of Natalya’s legs and pushed up with all his might. Finally, he gasped for air and was able to speak. “Do…you…expect me to…lick?”

“Muah ha ha!” Natalya said. “No, Mr. Smegma. I expect you to die!”

Natalya clamped her legs down around Dirk’s head, leaving the hero feeling as though his cranium was trapped in a silky smooth vice. He gasped for air as he stood up. He flailed about the room but it was of no use, as Natalya refused to release her snatchtastic grip.
Dirk ran into a wall, hoping the blow would knock his assailant off, but she simply grinder her lady business into the agent’s face harder.

“Dirk?” Kendra asked. “Are you alright? Jesus, you’re literally going to be killed by a pussy, aren’t you? No surprise there.”

Completely blinded by vagina, both on a personal but more importantly, on a physical level, Dirk felt around the room until he found the bathroom door.

“Muah ha ha!” Natalya cried. “Die, Mr. Smega! Die by the lips of my vatrushka!”

Dirk stumbled into the bathroom. He pulled a small black box out of his pocket and flipped a switch, causing a light on the device to blink red. He then tossed the gadget into the toilet.

Crack! Dirk thrashed his attacker into the mirror, smashing it into pieces. Natalya was unfazed, her sole focus on murdering Dirk with her beaver.

“Poor Mr. Smegma,” Natalya said as she tightened the grip of her legs around the back of Dirk’s neck. “I’m so sorry you must leave but you must admit darling, there are worse ways to go.”

The toilet rumbled.

“Dirk,” came Kendra’s voice. “Please tell me you didn’t…”

Dirk grabbed the woman and pushed her away from his face with all his might. Natalya was strong, causing Dirk’s muscle’s to strain as he pushed.

Boom! The toilet exploded, sending porcelain shards everywhere. Dirk managed to hurl the woman off of his face just in time for her to land inside…the jaws of a hungry toilet gator.

“Raarga!”

Skippy Jr. was just a big as his father – fifteen feet long and over a thousand pounds. His sheer bulk pushed Dirk right out of the bathroom, leaving him to land on the floor. As he caught his breath, he could hear Natalya’s blood curdling screams, followed by the sound of bones snapping between a pair of gator jaws.

“That is the absolute last time anyone ever talks me into giving a little mouth to the south!” Dirk declared.

Skippy Jr. waddled out of the bathroom. “Raarga.”

Dirk patted the gator on the head. “That’ll do, gator. That’ll do.”

“Dirk,” Kendra said. “Please don’t tell me you just wasted the one and only tracker you had on a toilet not being used by the Imperial Honcho.”

“OK,” Dirk said. “I will not tell you that.”

A fist pounded on the bedroom door. “This is the Imperial Honcho’s Select Guard! What’s going on?”

“Oh,” Dirk said. “Hey there, fellas. Everything’s fine.”

“We heard strange noises,” the guard said.

“Oh yeah,” Dirk said. “You know me. I can get kind of wild in the sack.”

“We’re coming in,” the guard said.

“What are you going to do now, doofus?” Kendra asked.

“Now?” Dirk asked as he climbed onto Skippy Jr.’s back. “I’m going to improvise.”

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Movie Review – The Belko Experiment (2017)

Blood!  Guts!  Gore!  Mass murder!

BQB here with a review of the totally twisted psychological thriller/horror flick, “The Belko Experiment.”

In Bogota, Columbia, 80 Americans work in a high rise tower owned by the international corporation, “Belko Industries.”  High security cuts the building off from the outside as the employees conduct their business in South America.

One day, completely at random, a scary voice comes over the loudspeakers.  The employees are told they are expected to kill a certain number of their fellow co-workers by a certain time.  Should they fail, even more employees will be killed.  Even worse, actions are taken to assure the employees that this demand is real and not a joke.

As you might expect, chaos reigns supreme as a group of once mild mannered office workers go batshit crazy.  Factions are raised.  Sides are taken.  Lines are drawn and crossed.

Employee Mike Milch (John Gallagher Jr.) takes the noble position that murder is not acceptable under any circumstances, that everyone should just remain calm, refuse to kill anyone, and it will all pass.  He and his followers focus on survival and escape.

Meanwhile, company boss Barry Norris (Tony Goldwyn) takes the utilitarian approach, i.e., it would be better to kill the number of people demanded rather than allow even more people to get killed.  To that end, he creates his own murder squad with his sidekick, the uber creepy Wendell Dukes (John McGinley in his douchiest role yet and that’s saying a lot for a man who has made a career of playing douches.)

Overall, the movie is more than a bit sick and twisted.  There’s gore aplenty and the body counts really rack up, with mass executions being put on full display in which employees are rounded up, herded like cattle and summarily murdered.  It’s definitely one of the scarier, more gruesome horror flicks I’ve seen in a long time.

There’s definitely a disturbing theme throughout.  I mean, how well do you think you know your co-workers?  Sure, that guy who plugs along at work all day and gives you a warm smile when you pass him in the hallway seems nice enough, but do you really have any way of knowing that he wouldn’t hack you to pieces if it ever came down to you or him?

What is a life worth?  Are older people worth less than the young?  Are parents worth more than those without children?  All these questions are asked and more as Norris attempts to come up with the most efficient formula for committing utilitarian murder.

Who is right?  Is Milch right that there is never a circumstance where murder is justified?  Is Norris right that it’s better to kill some in order to save many?

Just how much chaos needs to be introduced into a normally sane environment before everyone goes nuts, picks up whatever implements of destruction they can find and start chasing each other down?

Overall, the film is tight.  It moves fast.  There are many parts that are downright gross and disturbing to say the least.  While we hope that a “Belko Experiment” is never conducted, I have a hunch that this film has, more or less, accurately predicted how a building full of office workers would react if somehow their usually comfortable work environment were to descend into a “Lord of the Flies on Acid” situation.

STATUS:  Shelf-worthy.  Rent it now on demand.

 

 

 

 

 

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Zom Fu – Chapter 64

tabletdemo

The members of the Clan of the Mediocre Yet Effective Club Bonk struggled on the palace steps to hold back the zombie invaders. Several of them had fallen victim to the Clan of the Terrifyingly Unnatural Brain Bite.

Junjie observed the carnage, then looked to the Staff of Ages. The ruby glowed red once more.

“The Staff of Ages has been freed of Dragonhand’s influence,” the Infallible Master said. “It belongs to its true master once again. Wield it freely and it will know exactly what you wish it to do.”

Junjie closed his eyes and raised the staff high into the air. Thunder claps sounded overhead. Multiple bolts of lightning tore through the sky and zapped their way into the staff, until the ancient device began to glow bright white.

Once more, the handsome hero pointed the staff toward the sky and a colossal lighting bolt of unfathomable size lit up the night sky. It pulsated in the heavens, dancing and flickering about until it separated into hundreds of smaller lighting bolts. Each bolt found a different zombie brain to pierce. Soon, every last brain biter in the Forbidden City was destroyed, while the remaining humans survived unscathed.

The clubbers cheered. Junjie cheered. “Master, I can’t believe that….Master?”

The Infallible Master was nowhere to be found, except in Junjie’s mind. “There is no more that I can teach you now, my son. It is time for you to become the master, and time for me to wile away many a year in Diyu.”

“Diyu?” Junjie asked out loud. Those in the handsome hero’s general vicinity might have thought the young man had gone mad had they not seen so many other frightening wonders that day. “I thought you said you would never be able to pass on to the other side.”

“A Master has his ways,” came the Infallible Master inside Junjie’s brain. “The older we get, the more realize what we once thought is impossible is, in fact, quite possible.”

“There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Junjie said.

“Perhaps,” the Infallible Master said. “But the task of rebuilding the devastated kung fu clans is ahead of you now. The last thing you need to do is to worry about me.”

“Wait,” Junjie said. “Will I ever see you again?”

The master’s voice laughed. “Yes. It will seem like an eternity but remember, time is but a trick of the mind. We shall have our reunion one day, if not in the gloomy abyss of Diyu, then surely in the warm embrace of Heaven.”

“Can I talk to you?” Junjie asked.
The master’s voice laughed again. “Oh my son. I spent so much time with my master that I hear him even when he does not speak to me. You will see me and hear me in everything you do, regardless of whether or not we actually speak again.”

“That’s very cryptic,” Junjie said.

“Meh,” the Infallible Master said. “I am a kung fu master. It is what I do.”

“Goodbye, Master,” Junjie said.

“No,” the Infallible Master said. “Not goodbye. Never goodbye. I will see you later.”

A tear streamed down Junjie’s cheek. “I will see you later, Master.”

And with that, the voice inside Junjie’s head was gone.

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Zom Fu – Chapter 63

tabletdemo

Junjie looked to the Infallible Master. “There is no more Bohai, is there?”

“There is not,” the Infallible Master replied. “There is only Rage Dog. Do not make the same mistake I did.”

Rage Dog held up the squirmy bag. “To eat the last brain of an imperial dynasty, to obtain the knowledge that comes with countless generations of leadership…all of China will be mine.”

Junjie picked up one of the golden swords and pointed it at Bohai. “Release the Emperor, monster. Do so now and I will clap you in chains and lock you away where you can’t hurt anyone anymore. I will then spend the rest of my days searching for a cure, for some method of restoring Bohai’s soul to his former body.”

Rage Dog’s eyes traveled to his missing hand, then to the various holes and marks that permeated his body. “What makes you think Bohai would even want it now?”

“You are repeating my mistake, my son,” the Infallible Master warned. “No more negotiations. Finish him.”

Junjie studied Rage Dog’s face. “I know my brother is in there, somewhere…I just can’t…”

Thunk! The tip of General Tsang’s sword pierced its way through Rage Dog’s eyeball. The creature uttered a few last gaps then dropped the bag, only for it to be caught just in time by the general’s hand.

Rage Dog collapsed to the floor. He was no more. Once he was out of the way, the full figure of the general was revealed. The veteran warrior was soaked in the blood and brains of the many zombies he defeated out in the rain.

“You kung fu fighters are a sentimental lot, aren’t you?” General Tsang asked as he looked down at Rage Dog’s corpse. “Good think I didn’t know him that well.”

Ever so gently, the general placed the bag on the floor and opened it up. A very scared little boy popped out and attached himself to his protector like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.

“Tsang!”

“Yes, your majesty,” General Tsang said as he ran his hands through the boy’s hair. “Tsang is here now.”

“Come,” the Infallible Master said to Junjie. “There is more work outside.”

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And Now Zom Fu Returns…

tabletdemo

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

Yeah, it’s unfortunate I ended up taking a little hiatus on Zom Fu.  Ironically, I did so right at the end.

When last we left our epic tale, Junjie had just defeated Dragonhand, the Master of the Clan of the Terrifyingly Unnatural Brain Bite.

It’s pretty much cleanup from now on, just the the final chapters where we learn what happens to our heroes after the story concludes.

Good news!  That means I should have another draft of a novel done within a month, perhaps sooner depending on how much time I can put into it.

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 112

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Cole, Sharon, Rusty, Moses, Felix and Professor Lambert, dressed in their best finery, milled about in a waiting room just outside the Oval Office. The doors opened and Buck Breckenridge poked his head out.

“I’m sorry,” Breckenridge said. “The President is on a very important call.”

President Stugotz’s voice traveled out of the office and into the waiting room. “Look, just because I’m the leader of the free world doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have my own private account on bigtimeknockers.com…yeah…uh huh…security risk? So make it secure, nerd. God Almighty, this shouldn’t be that hard…yeah well just shut up and make it happen. POTUS needs his big time knockers or else he’ll get very cranky and when I’m cranky I start posting on Lifebox and then my super hot wife and my super hot daughter chew my ear off and then after that it’s all I can do to keep my finger off the nuke button, OK?”

“Excuse me,” Breckenridge said as he shut the door.

Sharon chuckled. “Big time knockers?”

Moses spit into the palm of his hand and slicked down a cowlick on the top of his head. He then straightened his tie. “Woman, you laugh but that man in there is a true patriot and a saint and if he looking at big time knockers helps him get the job done then by God, he should have big time knockers.”

Cole sighed. “Ugh I just want to get this over with and get back to the hotel.”

“Why?” Sharon asked. “Hun, you’re a hero.”

Cole puffed out his chest. “I am, aren’t I?”

“Oh well,” Professor Lambert said as he pulled out a joint and a cigarette lighter. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.”

“What are you doing?” Sharon snapped. “Put that away!”

“Dude,” Rusty said. “How did you get that through security?”

“My butt, a string, and a whole lot of patience,” the Professor said.

“If you can’t take a break from pot for an hour to meet the President of the United States then you’ve got a problem,” Sharon said.

The Professor sparked up and puffed away. “No one’s arguing with you, sister.”

The doors opened all the way this time. Buck made a weird expression as he sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”

The Professor quickly dabbed the joint out against the leg of the priceless antique chair he was sitting in, then stashed the evidence in his pocket. “Smell? What smell?”

“It smells like Bill Clinton’s second term out here,” Buck said. “Strange. Oh well, follow me. The President will see you now.”

As the Chief of Staff led the gang into the Oval Office, they marveled at the sights, taking in the breathtaking architecture and artwork, including a giant portrait of former President Teddy Roosevelt. President Stugotz was sitting behind the historic resolute desk, engaged in yet another tense negotiation session over the phone.

“I want a large cheese pizza with extra cheese, OK?” the President said. “And when I say, ‘I want extra cheese,’ I mean, I want a whole hell of a lot of cheese. Don’t skimp out on me, OK? I’m serious. Don’t be like one of those pizza chefs who hears ‘extra cheese’ and then just puts a tiny dab of cheese on my pie, OK? In fact, I’ll tell you what, when you think you have put enough cheese on this pizza to comply with my request of extra cheese, go all out and shake some more cheese on it anyway, just to be safe. Believe me, nobody explains how to make an extra cheese pizzas better than me, OK? I am the best at ordering pizzas. Goodbye.”

“Mr. President,” Breckenridge said. “The heroes who defeated the toilet gator are here.”

“Fantastic!” President Stugotz said as he stood up and walked over to greet his guests. “Let me get a good look at them.”

The gang formed a line for the President to review. As he walked down the line, he gave each hero a handshake and a kind word.

“Officer Yates,” President Stugotz said.

“It’s actually Chief Yates now, sir,” Rusty replied.

“No one gives a shit son, and believe me, I know what people give a shit about, OK?” the President said.

“Yes sir,” Rusty said.

President Stugotz slapped Rusty on the back. “Job well done. You’re the coolest redhead I have ever met, and I’m including those Irish supermodel twins I plowed while I was on my honeymoon with the second Mrs. Stugotz.”

“That means a lot sir,” Rusty said.

“I know it does,” the President said as he moved on. “And you must be the guy with the Apache attack helicopter.”

Moses and Felix snapped to attention and saluted the President.

“Yes sir,” Moses said. “Sergeant Moses T. Malone, United States Marine Corps, retired and this is my hetero life mate Felix Howard. If I may be so bold, we love you sir. We both voted for you in 2016 and we can’t wait to do it again in 2020. Wild dogs won’t be able to keep us away.”

“Moses,” President Stugotz said. “I know smart people when I see them and believe me, I’m the smartest person I know. If you two voted for me then that makes you a couple of real smart cookies.”

“Thank you sir,” Moses said. “Sir, I don’t mean to bother you, but is there any way you might pull some strings so I can, you know, keep my Apache attack helicopter and also, if possible, not go to jail for all the laws I broke while I was flying it around?”

President Stugotz stroked his chin. “Hmm. Well, all the crooked lawyers in my employ tell me that you literally broke thousands upon thousands of laws by flying that thing around but…you know what? I don’t think you should go to jail for that. No one should ever have to go to jail for daring to fight a toilet gator. This is America. We don’t run from toilet gators here.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sir,” Moses said.

“You know what?” President Stugotz. “You’re off the hook. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, thank you sir,” Moses said. “But uh…do I get to keep it?”

“You want to keep an Apache attack helicopter?” President Stugotz asked.

“If possible, sir,” Moses replied. “It would mean a lot to me.”

“A piece of military hardware like that in the hands of a civilian?” the President asked. “I don’t know.”

“I promise I’ll never take it out again, unless of course there’s another violent animal attack,” Moses said. “Had the toilet gator not reared it’s ugly head, that fabulous helicopter would still be in my hangar, getting a fresh coat of wax applied to it every Sunday by yours truly.”

“Give me one good reason why I should let you keep it,” President Stugotz said.

Moses shrugged his shoulders. “Second amendment?”

President Stugotz looked up at the ceiling and pondered the proposition for a bit. He then turned his attention back to Moses. “Sold!”

Moses and Felix exchanged high fives as President Stugotz moved on to Sharon.

“Mrs. Walker,” President Stugotz said. “I was so glad to hear that you and your husband patched things up. I mean, it’s one thing to want to live a wild, carefree life and another to be impractical and well, you being forty and all…”

“I also love him,” Sharon said.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, dear,” President Stugotz said. “Listen, I watched you on TV, tearing ass down the highway in that Diablo and I was impressed. In fact, I was so impressed, that I turned to the First Lady and said, ‘You know what we need, sweetheart? We need more vaginized Americans doing things that people with vaginas don’t normally do, like becoming doctors and lawyers and politicians and astronauts and police officers and toilet gator killers.”

“Thank you sir,” Sharon said. “That’s touching, in an odd way.”

“You’re an inspiration to ever little girl who ever dared to look out her bedroom window and up to the stars and proudly declare, ‘One day I will help end the life of a desperate, psychotic animal.’”

“That’s probably enough now, sir,” Sharon said as she pulled her hand out of the President’s grasp.

President Stugotz faced Cole. The two men stared at each other for a moment, then the Commander-in-Chief gave the renowned gator hunter a warm embrace.

“Cole Walker,” the President said as he stepped back. “A star is born.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Cole said.

“You know I was the first person to post on Lifebox that you would defeat the toilet gator,” President Stugotz said. “I was the only one who believed in you. I believed in you so much that I pushed aside a meeting with a bunch of wishy washy do-gooders who want to pass some cockamamie legislation about giving kidneys to junkies with AIDS or some such nonsense.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me, sir,” Cole said.

“Remember that, Bob?” President Stugotz asked.

“Yes sir,” Breckenridge replied.

“I was all like, ‘All you do-gooders figured out how to get kidneys for junkie AIDS patients on your own, I have got to write at least ninety-seven posts about how Cole Walker will most definitely beat the toilet gator because that man is a winner and believe me, I know a winner when I see one.’”

“Thank you,” Cole said.

“I should know,” President Stugotz said. “I’m the biggest winner the world has ever seen, but you wouldn’t know it because I’m so ridiculously humble. I go out of my way to avoid bragging about myself. Truly, I do. Being a braggart is very unbecoming. Believe me.”

“I’m just honored to be here, sir,” Cole said.

“Cole,” the President said as he shook the gator hunter’s hand. “For offing that filthy, rotten, dirty, disgusting, degenerate toilet gator, this country will be forever in your debt. If there’s anything I can do for you, just ask?”

As the President began to walk away, Cole stepped up. “Anything?”

The President turned around. “Anything except, you know, gay stuff. I mean, I don’t judge and I suppose if you want a dude to do stuff to your butt, I could make some calls and make it happen, but be advised that ‘anything’ did not include me doing anything to your butt, capiche?”

“I capiche sir,” Cole said. “And no, I don’t want any butt stuff but there is one thing you could help my wife and I with…”

“Name it,” President Stugotz said.

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 110

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One month later, Cole and Sharon stood behind the counter of their newly acquired booth at the Sitwell Farmer’s Market. The sign attached to the back of the wall read, “Cole and Sharon’s Fresh Produce. We have Strawberries and Blueberries and Watermelons and Shit.”

Underneath the sign, Skippy’s stuffed head was mounted on the wall for the whole world to see. One eye was out, the other was. His jaws were open, as though they might snap down on an unsuspecting passerby at any second.

“I can’t believe you quit the FBI,” Cole said.

“I can,” Sharon said as she threw her arms around Cole’s waist and gazed up into her lover’s eyes. “If I never work another case again it will be too soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Mrs. Walker,” Cole said.

“Sure thing, Mr. Walker,” Sharon replied.

The romantic conversation was cut short when Maude and Burt bellied up to the bar. “Oh God, get a room you two. You got any strawberries?”

Cole pointed to the sign.

Maude nodded. “Alright then, give me a bushel. This one’s been raw dogging me non-stop and I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

Burt’s face turned red. “Maude.”

“Oh please,” Maude said. “Sure, it’s more crooked than a Louisiana Congressman, but you can still pound nails with that thing. No small feat at your age. Be proud of it.”

“On the house,” Cole said as he handed Maude a box of fresh, red strawberries.

“You’re the worst businessman ever,” Maude said as she took the box. “You’ll be bankrupt in a week.”

“Then we’ll figure something else out,” Cole said.

Maude handed Cole a bundle of envelopes. “The post office is still sending your mail to the police station. You’re going to have to fill out one of those change of address forms…that is, unless you want to…”

“I’m never coming back,” Cole said.

“But the town council voted unanimously to reinstate you,” Maude said.

“They can vote to reinstate my foot up all of their asses,” Cole said. “They turned their back on me in my time of need. Now I turn my back on them.”
“Poetic,” Burt said.

“Then you do realize the department will be led by…Chief Rusty Yates,” Maude said. “Ugh. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t burn the place down his first day.”

“Somehow he’ll manage,” Cole said. “He’s got you, doesn’t he?

“That he does,” Maude said. “And I’ll be riding his ass like a dime store call girl the second I get back from vacation.”

“When are you leaving?” Cole asked.

“Tonight,” Maude said. “Our bags are packed and they’re stuffed with more dildos and handcuffs than Charlie Sheen’s dresser drawer. Aruba, here we come!”

“Wait,” Cole said. “If you leave this week, you’ll miss the ceremony with President Stugotz.”

“Please,” Maude said. “Like I voted for that turkey or any of the other turkeys who ran for president. I’ve got one vacation a year, Cole, and I don’t have many years or vacations left, so I’d rather spend my limited time getting jackhammered by this tall drink of water here.”

“Maude, please,” Burt said.

“Shut up and own it,” Maude said. “Just like you’re going to be owning my vagina all over the Caribbean soon.”

“Well Maude,” Cole said. “The DC trip just won’t be the same without you.”

“Washington DC?” Maude asked. “No thanks. If I want to be filled with hot air, I’ll just ask Burt to…”

“OK,” Burt said as he pulled on Maude’s arm. “We really should be going.”

“Right,” Maude said. “We’ve got to rest up so we can join the mile high club. Goodbye you two. I’m glad to see you’ve picked up the pieces of your shattered marriage and glued them back together again.”

Cole watched as Maude and Burt walked away. “I’m really going to miss her.”

“I know,” Sharon said.

“She was like the foul-mouthed, abusive, nicotine addicted mother I never had,” Cole said.

Cole fumbled through his mail. Bill. Bill. Bill. Junk mail. Junk mail. Finally, he opened up an enveloped marked “International Adoption Agency.” He read it to himself, mumbling along until he shook his head and muttered, “Damn it.”

“What?” Sharon asked.

Cole glared at the letter sitting on the counter, inviting Sharon to read it herself. She did so:

“Dr. Mr. and Mrs. Walker,

We regret to inform you that processing of your adoption application will be delayed six months to one year due to the high volume of requests we are fielding at this time. We thank you for your patience.”

Sharon rubbed Cole’s back. “I’m sorry baby.”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 109

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A day later, Hurricane Dakota Rothschild had moved up the coast, and downtown Sitwell had begun drying out. The gang wandered through the debris laden streets, walking past buildings with broken windows, caved in roofs, past overturned cars and trees that had fallen right into the street.

Finally, the spotted Skippy’s lifeless corpse. The gang timidly walked toward the hulking carcass, concerned that the giant lizard might spring to life at any second.

“Is he dead?” Sharon asked.

“Sure looks dead,” Maude said, just before taking a big breathe of fresh air from the tubes in her nose attached to a brand new oxygen tank.

“Oh no,” Rusty said. “I’ve see those horror movies before. Everybody needs to steer clear of that thing because just when you think the killer is dead, bam, they jump out of the closet and try to chop off your dick with a machete.”

“What movie was that?” Sharon asked.

“Dick Chopper 5000,” Rusty said. “Damn woman, get some culture in your life.”

Cole picked up a stick and poked the toilet gator with it. He nudged and prodded the big green body to no avail before declaring, “He’s dead.”

Professor Lambert sighed. “Quite a noble beast, now that we have an opportunity to examine him up close without repercussion.”

“Noble?” Rusty asked. “He made the entire world scared to shit.”

“Indeed,” Professor Lambert said. “But then again, did humans ever seek permission before shitting in toilets connected to the sewer system he called home? It was all one big vicious cycle really.”

“You’ve got a screw loose, Professor,” Rusty said.

“I’m simply acknowledging the fact that this alligator was, before his demise, the powerful lizard to walk the face of the earth since his ancestors, the dinosaurs, went extinct over sixty-five million years ago,” the Professor said.

“We’re all just flecks of dust in an ever expanding timeline,” Sharon said.

Maude rolled her eyes. “Jeez Louise, take an upper, girlie. You’re way too young to be this depressed.”

“My only regret is it wasn’t one of my bullets that killed him,” Moses said.

Felix walked up to the lifeless alligator, removed his bandana, and held it over his heart. “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings, look on my works, ye Mighty and despair! Nothing beside remains round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sand stretch far away.”

Moses rested a hand on his buddy’s shoulder. “That was beautiful. Tupac?”

“Percy Bysshe Shelley,” Felix said.

“Same difference,” Moses said.

“Errm,” Felix replied.

Natalie stared at the carcass while Walter filmed the remains.

“Unless a toilet shark starts popping out of toilets to bite people, this will go down as the greatest story of my news career, hands down,” Natalie said.

“Please,” Rusty said. “Like anyone would ever believe that a toilet shark would be possible.”

“Oh, they’re quite possible,” Professor Lambert said. “And very real.”

Burt squeezed Maude’s hand. “Time to go.”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “We should get out of here and let the cleanup crews do their work.”

As the gang turned around, Skippy’s good eye opened. Ever so slowly, he rolled off of his back and onto his belly. He spotted the intruders and inched towards them.

Without looking back at what he thought was a dead gator, Cole pulled the detonator stick out of his pocket. “Why didn’t this work?”

“I don’t know,” Moses said as he took the detonator and examined it. “Faulty wiring…a battery that went bad…for all I know there could have been a…”

Moses slapped the side of the detonator three times, then pressed down on the red button. KABOOM!

Skippy’s innards exploding, sending hundreds of bloody, slimy gator chunks high up into the sky before they rained down upon the gang below. Every last one of the brave heroes ended up covered in sticky red gator blood and gooey gator guts.

“Last time I ever buy a C4 detonator over the Internet, I’ll tell you that,” Moses said.

Wham! Skippy’s severed head fell out of the sky and landed at Cole’s feet.

“Looks like you got your trophy,” Sharon said.

“Looks like it,” Cole said.

“It’ll look good on our wall,” Sharon said.

“Our wall?” Cole asked.

“You know it,” Sharon said.

 

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 108

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Rung-nung-nung-nung-nung-nung-nung-nah….nah….thunk!

The chainsaw blade snapped against the toilet gator’s impervious skin. Feeling defeated, Cole tossed the saw into the water and rained his fists down on the alligator’s back.

“Why…won’t…you…die?”

Up on the roof, Sharon aimed her pistol at Skippy. A clear shot evaded as one second, there was an alligator in her field of view and the next, Cole, as man and beast thrashed about wildly in the overflowed street.

Down in the water, an exhausted Cole punched Skippy in the head repeatedly. “Die, damn you!”

Bonk. Cole felt a random object slap up against his head. As he looked up, he saw a rope ladder attached to…an Apache attack helicopter that just so happened to have fallen off the back of a truck.

The blades whipped around and around as the chopper hovered in a still formation, twenty feet above the ground.

“Come on, partner,” came the voice of Moses over the helicopter’s loudspeaker. “Ain’t no shame in retreating when you’re outmatched. Get on up here and live another day.”

Cole didn’t hesitate. He grabbed hold of the ladder and as he began to climb, the helicopter lifted into the air. As it did so, Cole narrowly avoided the gator’s snapping jaws as the monster jumped as far as he could out of the water before landing with a splash.

Moses spoke into the loudspeaker. “Hold on tight, boy! We’re going to strafe him!”

Cole held the ladder with a tight death grip as the helicopter moved forward for a bit. It then turned and pointed downward, giving Moses the angle he needed to turn the craft’s powerful, high caliber machine guns loose. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. Skippy wasn’t phased i the least.

Moses made another turn and hurried back. This time, mounds of gooey, oozy, jellied gasoline dropped out of the helicopter, landing with a series of hot, fiery explosions all over Skippy’s back.

“Hoo-wee!” Moses shouted through the loudspeaker. “I love the smell of burnt toilet gator in the morning!”

“Did that napalm fall off the back of a truck?!” Cole shouted.

“Hell no,” Moses said through the loudspeaker. “Every God fearing American man knows how to make his own napalm. If we don’t educate ourselves on the basics of napalm preparation then the terrorists win.”
Meanwhile on the rooftop, the rest of the gang watched the helicopter in shock.

“Moses has broken over a thousand laws by bringing that thing here,” Sharon said.

“Yeah,” Rusty said. “But ain’t it cool?”

Sharon nodded. “Yes it is.”

As soon as the flames dissipated, Cole peered down at the water. Soon, he saw Skippy’s eyes poke out of the surface of the makeshift river.

“He’s still alive!” Cole shouted as he climbed the ladder.

“Aw hell,” Moses said. “Hold on, I’ll go in for another pass.”

“No!” Cole shouted. “Nothing can kill him! Just get us out of here!”

The chopper bucked through the air as the heavy rain and winds pelted it. The craft turned and Moses fired a barrage of rockets at Skippy. When the explosions ceased, the toilet gator was nowhere to be found.

Moses lowered the chopper closer towards the street river to get a look. “See anything?” he asked through the speaker.

Cole examined the water. “No…I think maybe…”

“RAARGA!” Skippy jumped out of the water and chomped down on the ladder, catching it in a mighty, steel-trap like grip. The enormous lizard was so heavy that he began to pull the chopper down.

Cole scrambled up the ladder. “Pull up!” he shouted. “Pull up!”

Up in the cockpit, Moses wrestled with the controls. “Can’t…he’s too…heavy!”

The helicopter went down…down…down. Suddenly, Moses could be heard arguing with someone over the loudspeaker. “Hello? Hell no professor, now’s not a good time…oh…hold on, I’ll put you on speaker…hey Cole! The Professor’s got something to say!”

Cole looked down to see Skippy’s big, angry yellow eyes staring up at him. “Now’s not really a good time…”

“Mr. Walker!” came Professor Elliot’s voice over the loudspeaker. “So glad I was able to catch up with you. Now then, I have been examining the footage of your fight with the alligator and I believe…”

“Skip to the good part!” Cole shouted.

“You must shoot him in a soft spot,” the Professor said.

“What?!” Cole asked.

“His impeccable genes have obviously provided him with skin that serves as high grade battle armor,” the Professor explained. “So, the solution is simple. Shoot him in an unprotected spot, like the mouth or the…”

“…eye,” Cole said.

“Why, yes, I suppose that would do,” the Professor said. “That would lead to a direct path to the brain.”

Cole held onto the ladder with one hand and drew his Angry Barracuda with the other. With only one shot left, he pointed the weapon at Skippy’s right eye. As he aimed, the helicopter drew precariously close to the water logged street below.

“See you in hell…toilet gator.”

POW! Skippy’s eye exploded. He opened his jaws to cry out in pain, releasing the ladder and allowing the chopper to rise in the process.

As the helicopter lifted up high into the air, Cole watched as Skippy’s limp carcass hit the water.

“Think we got him?” Moses asked through the speaker.

“God, I hope so,” Cole said.

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Mark Twain vs. Zombies – Vote for Your Favorite Cover

Yeah, so this happened.

Over the past year or so, I’ve been doing a running gag on this blog where I take Mark Twain quotes and add stuff about zombies to them…i.e. “When it comes to zombies, there are lies about zombies, damned lies about zombies and zombie statistics.”

I thought, hey, why not pack these all up and make a quick and easy quote book.

So I commissioned a cover contest thinking I can bang a quote book out really quick, but then after a a while, I began thinking about it, doing some Twain research, and I came up with a pretty sweet premise as to how Twain could have been a zombie hunter while he wasn’t busy writing.

So, downside, one more cover for a book I haven’t written yet.  But, oh well, I think my addiction is ok.  When I start giving hand jobs in the subway bathroom to pay for more book covers for books I haven’t written yet, then I will know I have a problem.

Vote for your favorite, 3.5 readers. 

 

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