Tag Archives: love

Apr 03 2016
8 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Romantic Movie Fanatic

shutterstock_3277737Oh Hollywood.  When will you ever learn that every time you put out another cheesy romantic movie, you’re causing the women in our lives to hold us up to ridiculously high standards?

Men, are your women way into romance flicks for YOUR own good?

From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, here are the top ten warning signs your girlfriend might be a romance movie fanatic:

10.  She watched Serendipity then erased her number from your phone and wrote it down in a copy of the book, Love in the Time of Cholera.  She sold the book to a used book store and then informed you that you will never talk to her again unless fate sees that the book with her number in it makes its way to you.  You call her the next day and you are all like “Seriously babe I remember your number because we’ve been dating for years” and she’s like “Why do you ruin everything?”

9.  Whenever she watches Sleepless in Seattle, she demands that you meet her at the top of the Empire State Building.  After doing this once or twice, you sit her down for a talk in which you explain that while you do love her very much, you’re going to end up in the poor house if you have to take time off of work, fly to New York City and then stand around on top of the Empire State Building like a jackass every time Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are on TV.  She laments your total lack of Tom Hanks in his prime charm.

8.  Ever since she saw Notting Hill she greets you with “I’m just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her.”  It seems sweet at first, but then she starts demanding you speak with a Hugh Grant-esque British accent.  You could do it to keep the peace if you wanted to.  It’s mostly just going “um um um uh” a lot but you refuse to demean yourself.  You’re an American, dammit and she can take your regular voice or leave it.  (Psst…she’ll probably leave it.)

7.  My Best Friend’s Wedding leaves her disappointed if get togethers involving your family don’t break out in a spontaneous song and dance rendition of I Say A Little Prayer For You.  You try your best to make it happen but your Aunt Edna can’t hit the high notes.

6.  Her love of Say Anything requires you to stand outside her window in a trench coat whilst holding a boom box in the air.  She won’t make any reasonable concessions about this.  You still have to wear the trench coat in August and no matter how heavy the boom box gets, she won’t let you hold up your iPhone with Pandora blaring on it instead.

5.  Chasing Amy has led her to believe your relationship would improve if a) she were to become a lesbian and b) you tried to look more like Ben Affleck.  The lesbian thing is doable but the Ben Affleck thing is unlikely.

4.  Ever since you two watched The Notebook, she asks if you’d spend a large chunk of your life in a depressed funk if she were to ever leave you.  You realize it’s for your own good to say yes but deep inside, you know there are other fish in the sea.  Most won’t require you to climb up the side of a ferris wheel like a dumb ass either.

3.  She has long dreamed that you’d become more like Patrick Swayze in Ghost and sensually work a pottery wheel with her in perfect time with her hands.  You try your best but the apartment just ends up covered with sticky gobs of clay.  Part of you just wants to give her five bucks to go buy a damn ash tray, flower pot or whatever she’s always trying to make with that thing.

2.  She made you watch Love Story.  You’ve been on anti-depressants ever since.

  1. She’s a big fan of Titanic, so much so that you often find her butt naked on the couch, breathlessly urging you to “draw me like one of your French girls.”  You grab a paper and pencil and do your best to sketch a stick figure with circle boobs but she invariably just puts her robe back on and storms off in a huff.  Seriously dude, take an art class.
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Apr 02 2016
2 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Witch

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Not exactly the nicest thing to call your girlfriend…unless she is one.

From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Warnings Signs that Your Smoochy Poo might be a Witchy Poo:

10.  She’s always green…even when she isn’t sick.

9.  But unlike Kermit, being green is easy for her.

8.  Whenever she leaves, your broomstick is nowhere to be found.  That’s ok though because you weren’t that much of a housekeeper anyway you dirty slob.

7.  You’re not entirely sure water would melt her, but now that you think of it, you can’t recall ever seeing her drink a bottle of Aquafina.  Maybe she’s a witch or maybe she’s just not a dumb ass who is willing to shell out good money for bottled water when the tap is perfectly fine.  (But seriously, if you two live in Flint, Michigan and she doesn’t drink Aquafina then she is a big time witch my friend.)

6.  Her closet contains a wide selection of black pointy hats with belt buckles on them. She is unable to explain what the hell those belt buckles are for.  Seriously, does anyone out there know why witch hats have belt buckles on them?  Belts are for pants you dumb witches!

5.  She steadfastly maintains that Dorothy was the villain in The Wizard of Oz.

4.  Her purse contents include: lipstick, chapstick, hairspray, mints and eye of newt.

3.  Always wins the fight by turning you into a toad.  She eventually turns you back to normal, but your craving for flies never goes away.

2.  She cackles at all of your jokes.  But she’s got a good heart because she even cackles at the ones that aren’t funny.  And most of them aren’t funny.

  1. Whenever she unzips your pants, she invariably cries out, “I’ll get you my pretty!”  You just go along with it because no one has ever called it pretty before.  Let’s face it.  No one else ever will either.  This witch is a keeper.

HONORABLE MENTION

We would have also accepted:

  •  The big ass cauldron in the middle of her living room always distracts you during make-out sessions…especially because you’re totally sure you saw something move in there.
  • Her winged monkeys are so helpful you don’t know how you ever got along without them.  From the remote to snacks, there’s nothing these furry little lackeys aren’t willing to fetch for you.
  • Sometimes she “leaves” then a crusty old hag returns to offer you an apple.  Don’t take the apple.
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Apr 01 2016
2 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Damn Reality TV Star

shutterstock_267550688 And now from BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, it’s the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Reality Television Star!

10.  Cameras follow her around wherever she goes, despite the fact that she never does anything relevant or newsworthy whatsoever.

9.  Meanwhile, producers follow you around wherever you go, demanding that you engage your girlfriend in obviously contrived dramatic interactions.  Tell her you have a disease that you don’t really have.  Tell her that her sister is dying when she doesn’t even have a sister.  Tell her a mutual friend that doesn’t exist was just hit by a bus. Just tell her something that sounds totally awful to keep the viewers from changing the channel.

8. That teeny weeny dog living in her purse gets more kisses from her than you do.

7.  When she does kiss you she leaves so much glitter on you that you end up looking like Tinkerbell took a dump on your face.

6.  You’ve grown accustomed to words like “lurve,” “totes” and “bae.”  At least when you’re down, you can always count on a “I totes lurve u 4-eva bae” text.  (If she isn’t busy at da club.)

5.  She drinks enough to drop a Clydesdale, yet somehow manages to looks good in the morning…er, well…in the afternoon…after twenty-five assistants fix and readjust everything.

4.  She has her own fragrance, vodka, fashion line and music album.  Yet somehow, her head will explode if you ask her to read The Cat in the Hat.

3.  You broke the news to her that your doctor thinks you need a colonoscopy.  She wants to know if she can live tweet the whole experience and put the camera feed on periscope.

2.  People are constantly searching the inter webs for nude photos of her.  Stop selling nude photos of her, you pervert.

  1. She argues with you using hashtags:

YOU:  Hi babe.  Sorry I’m late.

HER: #tookyoulongenough!

YOU:  I couldn’t help it.  Traffic was a nightmare.

HER: #tellsomeonewhocares

YOU:  Aww.  Don’t be like that.

HER: #worstboyfriendever!

HONORABLE MENTION:

We would have also accepted:

  • Owns more leopard printed clothing than Tarzan.
  • Ironically, wears less of said clothing, or any clothing really, than Tarzan.
  • Owns enough shoes to outfit a gaggle of centipedes.
  • Selfies.  So many selfies.
  • Tries to look hot with a duck faced selfie.  Ends up looking like Daisy Duck suffering through a yeast infection.
  • She gets a manicure.  It’s a show.  She gets a pedicure.  It’s a show.  She goes shopping. It’s a show.  She stands on one foot and bounces up and down?  It’s a two hour special.
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Mar 31 2016
8 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be a Russian Spy

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The Russians.

Oh sure, they say they want to be our friends but then as soon as we aren’t looking they kick the Ukraine in the balls and give East Europe a wedgie.

Let’s face it.  For many Russians the Cold War never ended and they’re looking for their chance to spread communism across the globe.

Fellow American men, here are some warning signs that your girlfriend might in fact be a Russian spy:

10.  You asked her if she is a Russian spy and her answer was “nyet.”  Nyet, of course, is Russian for “no.”  This is a clear sign your girlfriend is a Russian spy as an American woman would have responded, “No” or “Shut up and buy me something assface.”

9.  You glanced at her cell phone and noticed she has “Putin” listed in her contacts.

8.  She gets up in the middle of the night, strips naked, opens up the freezer and then just stands there taking in the cold blast.  You could question her about this, but she’ll just give you some bullshit excuse about it being some kind of weird sex fetish.  In actuality, she does this because it reminds her of summertime in her native Siberia.

7.  She can’t name a single player on the local baseball team.  (Note for this to work you need to not be a nerd who doesn’t know a single player on your local baseball team.)

6.  She has difficulty fitting in during social gatherings.  You and your friends always want to talk about movies, music and popular culture whereas she just keeps randomly blurting out stuff like, “Religion is the opiate of the masses!” and “When we hang the capitalists they will sell us the rope we use!”

5.  Ever since she got a look at your fully stocked bathroom she’s been willing to do horrible, unspeakable things in the boudoir in exchange for a roll of two-ply.  “Pass the Charmin” has taken on an entirely new meaning.

4.  You have compared notes with your male friends.  When their girlfriends get mad at them, they get a lecture or the cold shoulder.  When your girlfriend gets mad at you, she slams her shoe down on the counter and shouts, “We will bury you!”

3.  Whenever you ask her where she wants to go on your next date, she invariably replies, “the Pentagon” then asks if you know whether or not they allow flash photography.

2.  She regularly asks if that is a hammer or a sickle in your pants or are you just happy to see her.

  1. You wake up often in the middle of the night to find your neck locked between her thighs, leaving you gasping for air.  You question her about it but she swears she’s just being kinky.  She’s not.  She’s trying to strangle the shit out of you like one of those damn double agent she-assassins that are always trying to kill James Bond.  Oh well.  We all have to go sometime and what a way to go.
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Mar 31 2016
15 Comments
zombies

Top Ten Signs Your Girlfriend Might be a Damn Zombie

shutterstock_142239178From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, the Top Ten Signs that Your Girlfriend Might be a Damn Zombie:

10.  She’s been nibbling on your ear a lot lately…but she never did that before.

9.  She wants you for your brains.  No, not the thoughts in your brains.  You don’t have any because you’re stupid. She wants your actual brains.

8.  She bumps into walls more than usual.

7.  You handed her your credit card and shouted, “Free shopping spree on me, baby!” She sniffed said card and upon determining that it wasn’t brains, chucked it her over her shoulder.

6.  She keeps trying to take selfies with other she-zombies but her lips keep falling off whenever she tries to do the duck face.

5.  She looks really mad at you.  You ask her why she’s mad at you and she’s all like, “Grr…argh…I think you know why…grr….”

4.  She asks if her butt looks big in the jeans she is wearing.  You note that her butt fell off weeks ago.

3.  Despite a lack of cognitive functions, she still has the ability to get mad at you about shit you did a long time ago.

EXAMPLE

YOU: Babe, stop trying to eat my brains.

HER: Grrr…argh…I bet you’d let that bitch you were staring at at the club in 2009 eat your brains…grrr…argh…brains…

2.  Also, despite the above mentioned lack of cognitive functions, she still holds you to the impossibly high standards set by Hollywood romance movies.

EXAMPLE

YOU:  Babe, your face is leaking puss.

HER:  Grr…argh…you should still love me anyway…grrr…and you should have better hair, bigger muscles, more money, and a cooler car…grrr…argh…brains!

  1.  Her boobs fell off but you’re pretty sure if you could just figure out how to sew them back on you could make this human/zombie romance work.
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Feb 24 2016
2 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 48

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With Reverend Cavanaugh between them, Slade and Sarah faced one another. Sarah gazed longingly at her man. Slade did his best to appear interested but in his mind he was mapping out the best possible escape route as if he were about to rob a bank and make a run for it.

“Dearly beloved,” the Reverend said. “We gather today to join this man, Rainier Slade and this woman, Sarah Farquhar in the bonds of holy matrimony.”

The Reverend opened up his bible, peeped at a card with some notes scribbled on it, then carried on. “For as Enoch said unto Elijah on the road to Damascus, ‘There is surely no act more pleasing to our righteous God than for a man to lie with the same woman day after day, month after month, year after year, decade after decade, until the end of time comes and the glorious rapture returns all who are pure to their much deserved glory.”

In the pews, Doc swilled back his medicine.

“Gimmie some of that,” Annabelle whispered. “I didn’t know this was going to be so preachy.”  She took a big gulp then handed the bottle back to Doc.

“And ye, it must be known to all,” the Reverend said. “That marriage is truly the noblest of institutions…”

“My Mavis used to say anyone who wants to get married should be in an institution,” Gunther whispered to Ophelia. She frowned and shook her head disapprovingly.

“In fact, it was Aaron who said unto Jeremiah who in turn, spread the message to the Sumerians, ‘When a man lies with a woman not his wife, or a woman lies with a man not her husband it is considered an egregious sin in the eyes of our Lord and don’t even get me started on when two men or two women lie with one another…”

Blake and Townsend sat in the back, mostly to trade snide comments about Slade but also in the hopes of free eats.

“You told me there would be sandwiches,” Blake said.

“I don’t know,” Townsend said. “Every wedding I been to they usually put out a little something. Usually not until after the ceremony though.”

“Shit,” Blake said. “I bet Slade’s too cheap to shell out for sandwiches.”

Townsend started a thought. “Well if he’s half a good a host as he was a marshal…”

Blake finished it for him. “…I’ll starve to death.”

The Reverend kept preaching away. “I’ve had the good fortune to perform many wedding ceremonies in my day and the one piece of advice I never fail to offer to a couple is this. ‘Be true to one another.’”

Slade audibly gulped.

“Yes, ” the Reverend said. “Husbands and wives must be honest with one another at all times for a marriage built upon a foundation of lies will never provide a happy home but rather, serve as a sanctuary for the devil.”

Slade’s heart beat faster.

“No matter how painful it may be for a couple to share their deepest, darkest secrets with each other, they MUST do so, for even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant fib is still a falsehood with the potential to boil over into tremendous sorrow.”

“Shit,” Slade thought. “If this is going to piss off God maybe I HAVE to say something.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Reverend said. “It is my understanding that the couple has written some vows that they wish to share with each other.”

“We have?” Rain thought.

“Sarah,” the Reverend said.

Sarah took Slade’s hands into hers. “Rain, all my life my choices have been made for me. First by my father, then by Josiah. In effect, I’ve never had a choice about anything at all until today. I choose you because I love you. When you hold me I feel safe. All my cares wash away and it is as if you and I are the only two people left in the world…”

“No one told me I was suppose to say anything,” Slade thought.

“…and should I die tomorrow,” Sarah continued. “My life will be complete, for having known the joy of being your wife. I vow to spend all my days thinking of new ways to make you as happy as you have made me.”

Annabelle was so touched she cried. Doc took another swig of his Cure-All then handed it to his new love interest.

“It will calm your menstruations, my dear,” he whispered.

Slade may have been madly in love with Miss Bonnie, but as far as he was concerned, what Sarah had just said was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. God would have to be disappointed with his lack of honesty.

Sarah looked at her groom with big brown eyes.

“Shit,” Slade said. “When she was babbling away on the ride in. That’s probably when she said to have something to say.  Damn it.”

The guests grew silent. Slade coughed.

“You’re special,” Slade said.

Slade looked around. Everyone waited for more.

“And pretty,” Slade said.

People were still waiting. What did they want?

“And I promise to be a good husband and wipe the shit off my boots before I come in the house.”

Silence. Sarah cried tears of joy. Even Gunther had a little moisture in his good eye.

“That was beautiful,” the old man said.

“Such lovely words,” the Reverend said. “Before we carry on, I ask now, if any one should object to this union, I bid you to speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The church doors swung open, a gust of wind blew in and the whole room got a whole lot…smellier.

Smelly Jack stomped down the aisle with his brother-cousins behind him.

“I OBJECT!!!”

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Feb 22 2016
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Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – A Note on Chapter 44

Soo…I never really intended to give “Annabelle” any more screen time but…

  1.  I needed to somehow get Doc out of the saloon…
  2. …because if I don’t (spoiler alert) then there will be no more Doc…
  3. …and this was the best idea I could think of.

You have to go with what you’ve got and I actually think they make a nice couple.

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Feb 21 2016
8 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 43

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Like a prisoner waiting for a pardon from the governor, Slade sat in the visitor’s chair across from the Reverend Cavanaugh’s desk, staring at his pocket watch as it ticked closer and closer to six o’clock.

Out in the hallway, the Good Reverend chatted with the bride.

“Reverend,” Sarah said. “Surely there’s some biblical interpretation that would render the bed sheet unnecessary?”

“Oh no,” Reverend Cavanaugh replied. “For as Hezekiah said unto Mordecai who in turn said unto the Edomites, ‘Whoever lies together as husband and wife shall form an eternal bond of the flesh that shall never be torn asunder…”

“Yes, I’ve read Hezekiah’s pronouncements on the subject,” Sarah said. “But my first husband, God rest his soul, departed quite some time ago. Isn’t the promise made during a marriage ceremony restricted to ‘until death do us part?’”

“One would think so,” the Reverend said. “But funny thing about that. The Apostle Paul once gave a testimony which stated…”

Slade’s head hit the desk with a colossal “THUD” as his bride walked away with the preacher. He shut his eyes. He tuned out the world. He rested there for a few minutes, clearing his mind of any thoughts. It felt good to have some peace.

It was short lived. He heard footsteps enter the room and looked up to find a redhead standing over him.

“Bonnie?”

“Hi.”

“You…”

“I shouldn’t be here I know,” Miss Bonnie said as she tucked a roll of bills into Slade’s hand. “I just wanted you to have this.”

“What’s this for?” Slade asked.

“It’s all the money you ever paid me,” Miss Bonnie said.

Slade attempted to hand it back. “I don’t want this.”

“I know,” Miss Bonnie said as she pushed Slade’s hand away. “But I need you to take it. I realized it too late but the time we had together was very special to me. In the future, when I look back on it, I don’t want to think it had anything to do with money.”

Slade looked at the cash in his hand. “That’s not what you said though.”

“I know,” Miss Bonnie said.

“You said I was just a customer,” Slade said.

“I know,” Miss Bonnie replied. “And I was wrong. You weren’t. You were a lot more than that. Take care of yourself, OK?”

Miss Bonnie pecked a quick kiss on Slade’s cheek and then started to walk away. Slade grabbed her arm.

“You can’t just do this,” he said.

“Do what?” Miss Bonnie asked.

As it always did around his favorite redhead, Slade’s rasp disappeared and his tongue untied itself. “You can’t tell me I don’t mean anything to you and then show up and tell me you changed your mind after someone else falls for me without having to think twice about it. We’re not kids and you can’t treat me like I’m some old toy you lost interest in only to like it again once you see some other kid playing with it.”

“I’m sorry,” Miss Bonnie said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll go.”

“So what is this?” Slade asked. “You make some grand romantic gesture and I’m supposed to leave Sarah at the altar for you and if I don’t then what? It’s MY fault that we aren’t together now?”

“No,” Miss Bonnie said.

“Because it’s not my fault,” Slade said.

Miss Bonnie’s tears started to flow. “I know. I’ll go to my grave knowing it’s my fault. Is that what you want me to say?”

“No,” Slade said.

“Every day I wake up wishing I hadn’t said what I did to you that day,” Miss Bonnie said. “But I did. And I can’t change that.”

Slade felt like crying now. Of course he didn’t. Tough guys don’t cry.

“There is no choice for you here,” Miss Bonnie said. “If I felt like I could be half the wife she could be to you then maybe I’d ask you to run away with me but I know I could never make you as happy as she could.”

Slade sniffled. He was sure it was just a stuffed up nose. It had nothing to do with sadness whatsoever. “You’re wrong about that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Miss Bonnie said. “If you asked me right here, right now to run away with you I still wouldn’t because I’d never want another woman to suffer the humiliation of being left on her wedding day because of me.”

Slade and Miss Bonnie stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, each wondering who would break first.

“Run away with me,” Slade said.

Miss Bonnie patted Slade on the cheek. “Nope.”

The would be couple that never was gawked at each other for at least another minute, drinking each other in.  Miss Bonnie dried her eyes.

“Goodbye,” Miss Bonnie said and turned around only to bump right into the bride herself.

Sarah was a vision in white. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect everything. Mrs. Anderson had outdone herself.

It was an emotional encounter for Slade. First, a terrifying panic washed over him. How much had Sarah heard? She wasn’t saying anything. Was she mad? The panic turned into relief. He’d been caught. He’d feel terrible but now the wedding would be off and he never actually had to stop it himself. Except Sarah didn’t look mad. Why wasn’t she mad?

“Rain,” Sarah said. “Mr. O’Brien is waiting to take our picture.”

The rasp returned. “OK.”

“Who is this?” Sarah asked.

To Slade’s dismay, Miss Bonnie was an exceptional con-artist.

“So anyway, Mr. Slade,” Miss Bonnie said. “I’d be happy to donate some wine for your wedding. What do you think? About a half dozen bottles?”

“Shit” was what Slade thought but “yup” was all he said.

“Oh hello there,” Miss Bonnie said as she shook Sarah’s hand. “Bonnie Lassiter and you must be the lucky lady.”

“Hello,” Sarah said.

“I run the saloon down the road and let me tell you, Mr. Slade was a big help when he was the law in these parts,” Miss Bonnie said. “Yessiree, whenever there was a stick-up or a drunk that needed tossing out why, good old Marshal Slade was right there to do his duty. I just felt I had to do something to show my appreciation when I heard you two were having your nuptials.”

Sarah was clearly buying it. Unfortunately, the performance had the effect of making Slade fall for Miss Bonnie even harder.

“Oh,” Sarah said. “Yes! I have heard of you! Mrs. Hutchins told me you’re the town whore!”

“Ugh,” Miss Bonnie said. “That bitch.”

“Pardon?” Sarah asked.

“Oh that’s rich,” Miss Bonnie said. “That Ophelia Hutchins, she’s a real cut up. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Well good for you,” Sarah said. “It’s never too late to save your soul.”

“Yeah,” Miss Bonnie said as she headed for the door. “I’m all kinds of worried about my soul. So anyway, I’ll have that wine sent right over.”

“Oh no thank you,” Sarah said. “We don’t drink.”

“Of course you don’t,” Bonnie said. “What was I thinking? Everyone knows Rainier Slade is the biggest teetotaler in town. Sarsaparilla it is!”

Miss Bonnie walked away and Slade feared, out of his life forever.

“Oh my,” Sarah said as she left the room. “It’s bad luck for us to see each other right now, isn’t it? I’ll see you outside.”

The money in Slade’s hand had become wet with his sweat. He mulled over Miss Bonnie’s words. “There is no choice for you here.”

An empty collection plate sat on the Reverend’s desk. Slade plunked the money on top of it and reported for duty.

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Feb 20 2016
4 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 41

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Back at the Bonnie Lass, the Buchanan Boys carried on with their raucous party late into the afternoon. Highlights included:

  • Homer Buchanan taking shots at customers’ feet, demanding that they dance.
  • Zeke Buchanan relieving himself wherever he pleased.
  • Stephen Buchanan exhibiting a firm belief that pants were optional.
  • And last but not least, Augustus Buchanan singing “Camptown Races” over and over again.

Miss Bonnie and Waldo stood behind the bar, taking it all in.

“Do they just live here now?” Waldo asked.

“I guess,” Miss Bonnie said. “I don’t know.”

“Can’t you do something?” the barkeep inquired.

“I keep trying to talk to Mr. Blythe,” Miss Bonnie said. “But he’s so damn convincing.”

Blake pushed his way through the swinging doors and found a seat next to Townsend.

“Well, you won’t believe the horse shit I just heard,” Blake said as he plunked a few coins on the bar. Waldo poured him his usual scotch and handed it over.

“Bathing’s become socially acceptable?” Miss Bonnie asked.

Townsend saw Miss Bonnie’s dig and raised her a “You’re a bigger drunk than U.S. Grant?”

Everyone looked at Waldo. He had nothing. “Um…you’re stupid?”

“Ha, ha ha,” Blake said. He downed the shot and pounded the glass on the bar. “No, no and you’re one to talk, Waldo. Get this. I’m down at the store…”

“…buying your pecker rash cream…” Miss Bonnie interjected.

“Can I tell a story here?” Blake asked.

Waldo set the barfly up with another shot. “Thank you,” Blake said. “And I hear old Mrs. Anderson talking about fixing up a dress for the Widow Farquhar. Turns out she and that lousy excuse for a marshal are tying the knot.”

Miss Bonnie felt her sense of humor leave her in an instant.

“Slade and the Widow Farquhar?” Townsend said.  “Get out!”

“I will not, thank you very much,” Blake said.

“Eh, who cares?” Townsend asked. “Good for him.”

“‘Good for him?’” Blake repeated. “Shit, the Widow Farquhar’s got all that money and  land. Slade’s making out like a bandit.”

“She’s a real looker that Widow Farquhar,” Waldo said.

“I wouldn’t mind being in Slade’s shoes,” Townsend added.  “Waking up every morning next to the Widow Farquhar.”

“What has that son of a bitch ever done to deserve a woman like the Widow Farquhar?” Blake asked.

Miss Bonnie had heard enough. “Maybe he does more than just sit on his ass and pour booze down his gullet all day, ya’ degenerate!”

The proprietor stormed off upstairs.  When she reached the top, she turned around and yelled, “And stop calling her ‘the Widow Farquhar!'”

“What’s eating her?” Townsend asked.

Waldo shrugged his shoulders.

“Hike up your boots, boys,” Townsend said. “There’s a red flood a-comin!”

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Feb 18 2016
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Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 39

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If you wanted to buy something in Highwater, whether it was an axe or a suit, Anderson’s General Store was the place to be.

Dressing like a refined gentleman was a new experience for Slade. His collar felt tight. He’d never worn a tie before and couldn’t wait to take it off. He couldn’t believe that he’d allowed himself to be talked into wearing a cummerbund. A red one to boot.

Mrs. Anderson was a boney old hag who reeked of peppermint candy, though her face was sweet enough that looked as though she’d been a head turner in her day. After all, she once turned Jim Anderson’s head, though as the bald chubby man studied his accounts ledger, he didn’t look like a particularly great catch.

“So dashing!” Sarah said. “What do you think?”

Grunt.

“Is that good?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

“I have no idea,” Sarah replied.

“Is it proper to wear a hat in church?” Mrs. Anderson asked. “And those guns…you should lose them.”

“True, it is a wedding, dear,” Sarah said.

Slade cleared his throat. “Non-negotiable…on both fronts.”

Mrs. Anderson shook her head. “Men.”

She walked behind the counter, shooed her husband away from the ledger and began jotting down figures.

Slade stared at himself in the mirror, convinced this get up was the first step toward becoming a prissy, dandified girly man. A familiar voice broke his concentration.

“Christ’s sakes, Jim, don’t give me that top shelf shit! Do I look like a Vanderbilt to you?”

Slade turned his head to see his ex-deputy at the counter, purchasing a bottle of whiskey. Gunther forked over his money, took his bottle, and was about to walk off when he spotted his ex-boss.

“WELL HOLE-E-SHIT!”

There was no making a run for it now. Slade was in for it. Gunther walked over, took off his hat and bowed.

“Excuse me, Mr. City Slicker, which way to the op-a-rah house?”

Grunt.

“Did I take a wrong turn and end up in gay Paree?”

Grunt.

“No one told me the King of England was making an appearance.”

“Shut up,” Slade said.

“What’s with the monkey suit?” Gunther asked. “Someone up and croak?”

“What?” Slade asked.

“Whose funeral?” Gunther asked.

Slade felt like it was his but realized that wasn’t what Gunther meant. “It’s for a…” Slade’s voice trailed off unintelligibly.

“A what?” Gunther asked.

Slade mumbled again. Gunther put his hand up to his ear.

“Speak up, sonny. My ears aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“A wedding!” Slade said.

Gunther smiled. “Get outta town! When?”

“Tonight,” Slade said.

“Shit, you youngsters don’t waist any time do you?” Gunther said.

“I guess not,” Slade replied. Gunther was already off to the counter, shaking Sarah’s hand up and down. “Congratulations on your impending nuptials, Widow Farquhar!”

“Why thank you,” Sarah said. “You’ll join us, won’t you?”

Gunther put his arm around Slade’s shoulder. “Why I wouldn’t miss it for the world and Rain, don’t you worry none, the answer is yes.”

“Huh?” Slade asked.

“Yes,” Gunther replied.

“What the hell’s the question?” Slade asked.

“Will I be your best man?” Gunther said. “Of course I will, ya’ jackass, you don’t even have to ask.”

The thought hadn’t crossed Slade’s mind but realizing there was no other candidate for the job, he didn’t question it. Sarah seconded it.

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” she said.

“Widow Farquhar,” Gunther said. “Could I borrow the groom for a spell? Official best man business.”

“Of course,” Sarah said. She turned her attention to Mrs. Anderson. “You’ll deliver the dress tonight then?”

“Yes honey,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

Gunther led Slade outside. From the steps of the general store, they could see the newly arrived train sitting at the station. Legion employees in conductor uniforms puttered about the platform, loading equipment.

“That is some nefarious and suspicious shit right there,” Gunther said. “What do you think?”

“It’s big,” Slade said. “We rode past it on the way in. Has to be at least three miles long. One of those big guns on every fifth car.”

“Rain, I know I schooled you well in the art of saying ‘fuck it,’” Gunther said. “But now might be one of those times where your ill-advised recklessness is required.”

“What do you want me to do?” Slade asked.

“I don’t know,” Gunther said. “You’re the boss. I’m just the help.”

“Not anymore,” Slade said. “And I’m getting hitched.”

Gunther and Slade shared a moment of silence. “You sure that’s what you want?” the old man asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Slade said.

“What else is new?” Gunther asked. He pulled the cork out of his bottle, took a sip, then offered Slade some. He declined.

Sarah walked out of the store and took Slade’s arm. “Mrs. Anderson said you’re free to wear your suit out of the store but darling, please don’t get it dirty.”

“I better go pay,” Slade said.

“Oh sweetheart I took care of that,” Sarah said.

Gunther felt like a third wheel. “This sounds like one hell of a shin dig, folks. I better go and get my own fancy duds out of moth balls.”

“Six o’clock, Mr. Beauregard,” Sarah said.

“Ma’am, wild horses could not drag me away,” Gunther said. The old timer walked away.

“Sarah…”

“What is it?” Sarah asked. “You look cross. More so than usual.”

“You can’t just…pay for me.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked.

“It’s like I’m a…” Slade whispered the next part, “…a damn gigolo.”

Sarah led her man down the street. “Don’t be ridiculous! We’re to be married soon. What’s mine is yours and yours is mine. Come now, we have a long day ahead. I hope we can find a photographer.”

Slade craned his neck once more at that train. He knew Gunther was right.

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