Thursday, April 26, 2012

The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions): Route d'abbaye Track Twelve - Polythene Pam

The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions)

Route d'abbaye

Track Twelve

Polythene Pam

by

Al Bruno III



There were many things Lorelei Miller wanted to see; Stonehenge, the Las Vegas strip and the Secret Grave of Harley Warren were just the top three of a long and eclectic catalog of sights and experiences.


Watching Jack Diamond get undressed was nowhere on that wonderful list, but here she was anyway. This was the man that had beaten her to a pulp, nearly raped her best friend and blown up Magwier's old apartment.


“...Lorelei my sweet, I want you to ....keep an eye out for Jack Diamond,” Magwier had said. “Make sure he stays safe.”


It was a request as cruel as it was comical but Lorelei had done as she was asked. It was easy enough to sneak in to the Sallow Sultan. It had been even easier to knock out one of Mustard’s tantric masseuses.


The girl’s name had been Pam and Lorelei had stolen her clothes and mask, then left her trussed up in a storage closet.


Lorelei hated wearing Pam’s uniform, she hated the feeling of being encased in plastic and rubber. She hated the clammy sensation of the other woman’s sweat drying against her skin even more. The featureless mask was suffocating and the stiletto heeled boots made her feel as though she might topple over at any moment.


How does anyone walk in these things? Lorelei wondered. I hope I don’t have to run anywhere.


Jack Diamond unbuttoned his stained silk shirt and tossed it aside to reveal a physique with less scars and more flab than she had expected. His hand went to the holster in his belt, the pistol it held was comically huge. He noticed her staring. “It’s called 'a Desert Eagle’. 50 cal baby,” he winked, “you heard I kept a cannon down my pants little lady? The truth is I have two.”


The room was lit by candelabras. There was a massage table in the middle of the room, beside it was a cart stocked with exotic oils and lotions. Lorelei could feel him watching her as he shucked off his pants. She said, “Lie down.”


“I like the sound of that-” he paused for emphasis and let his boxers drop to the floor, “Polythene Pam.”


At first Lorelei was so distracted by the realization one of the most vile and powerful men in Olathoe wore Scooby Doo boxer shorts that his nudity didn’t even register with her.


Then it did and her gasp made Jack Diamond literally swell with pride.


Oh my Goddess!


There were words Lorelei had learned in school, words beautiful and archaic, words that had fallen out of use or never truly found their way into the modern vernacular.


One of those words was cyclopean and Lorelei assumed that, if she survived this lunatic night, cyclopean would be the only word she would be able to use to describe Jack Diamond’s cock.


“Please,” she said again, “lie down.”


He lay face down on the massage table. The skin of his back was covered with an elaborate tattoo of the Monkey King. The image was ugly and distended, Lorelei wondered if the artist that had applied it even knew what a monkey looked like.


She grabbed one of the plastic lotion containers, it reminded her of the ketchup bottles you found at roadside diners. When she squeezed it she was rewarded with a glob of reddish oil and a loud comical farting sound-


FFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT!


A sharp smell, cloying yet sweet, wafted up from the glob of goo in her hand. She sniffed at it tentatively. What the Hell is this stuff?


She looked at the plastic bottle, the label read 'Professor Blackwell's Extra Potent Erotic Lubricant (Now In Mint Flavor!)'.


“So,” Jack Diamond said, “what was it that turned you into such a little slut?”


Grimacing Lorelei decided to turn the question back at him, “What do you think?”


“What do I think? I think you started spreading your legs as soon as you knew it was a good way to get back at your bitch of a mother.”


“Wh-what?”


Suddenly Jack Diamond was on his feet and his pistol was in his hand. He shoved Lorelei backwards sending her tumbling over the cart of lotions and oils. She hit the floor hard. The wind was knocked from her.


He yanked the mask from her face, “I knew it. I knew it! Who else would be killing off my relatives and making the same motherfucking Beatles songs play through my head all damn day?”


“Just a minute there donkey dick! This isn't what you think,” Lorelei pressed her back against the wall and tried to stand up but a punch in the gut put her back down again.


“What I think?” his grin was shark-like, “What I think is that you’re going to tell me what you’re up to. Then we’re gonna have us a little party and once I’m done with you I’ll separate your head from your body and leave it on Magwier’s doorstep.”


“Good luck with that,” she gasped. “You blew up his apartment remember?”


He laughed, both his legendary cannons pointed at her, “Same old Lorelei, too stupid to keep her mouth shut. Too stupid to live. Too stupid to be a whore for that matter.”


“You sure about that?” She said, “I’ve got some great tricks.”


The plastic bottle was still in her right hand. She aimed the nozzle at his face and sent an arc of 'Professor Blackwell's Extra Potent Erotic Lubricant (Now In Mint Flavor!)' squirting into his eyes.


FFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT!


“IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!’


Jack Diamond staggered in place firing the Desert Eagle every which way, emptying it into the walls, floor, ceiling and massage table.


But the room was already empty. Lorelei found it wasn’t so hard to in stiletto-heeled boots after all.







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