Chaucer's Revenge
By
Robby Richardson
I want to show all my disbeliever's love...this dedication is for you If roles were switched, I must admit I couldn't resist I’d probably bitch like you do Like look at that white cat with his hat like that there's no way he can be writer So, this is my confirmation of knowing your determination to see my extermination Just know that this dedication...this book is dedicated...is dedicated to you I want to show all my believers love...this dedication is for you I'm dedicated to dedicating this dedication to the dedicated To those that write non-stop, who constantly get dropped,
Who don't understand why they can't get a chance
To those that go the distance and those that chase their call So, kings may rise stars must fall
LEGAL DISCLAIMER
The author (Robby Richardson) retains all rights to this book including characters, story, ideas, poems, and prohibits any unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or transmission of this book or its contents in any form without permission from the author.
Chaucer’s Revenge
[Intro]
By
Robby Richardson
This is my proclamation…a herald one could say I write my way in any way transcribe your Last Rites as we pray Digging more than graves when I’m seeking To Avenge
A Chaucer’s Revenge
I will eviscerate you in fiction
Devitalize your ego with a malediction description
Diction in my infliction with transcription of this inscription Every weakness, every fault, every defect
Every lapse of judgment, every mistake or error
It doesn’t just read on forever…It only FEELS like forever
Packing so many punches on whole different wavelengths from many different levels This little devil revels in your dishevel and take it to the end with still a score left to settle A Chaucer’s Revenge
Every pimple, every character flaw
Fed up with what you see and down with what you saw
I was naked for a day and the betray you portray
You will be naked for eternity and the finger’s simply for courtesy
And that’s every day until my toe tag from the infirmary Dancing on a razor’s edge inflicting a
A Chaucer’s Revenge
What’s my name…say my name say it like it’s your destiny child What lies within the name…does it define you
Does it make you whole or just make do, a name that completes or breaks you Who am I…an age-old question to an answer of a question many question Robby Richardson’s my name and writing is all I am
Embrace the bite that feeds my hand
It is the only thing constant that has remained the same
I write with paper and pen, feather or quill, computer and skill Ink and parchment and expose you like an emperor with a brand new garment A mere tease or unfriendly look is all it took to build my armament Nothing ventured is nothing gained but my nature is something you mistook I could scribble a little something…jot a little ditty
Tear down your city and make it sound oh so pretty
And oh such a pity with the petty to nit-pick the itty-bitty seems to fit me
A gnat nit picking monkey on your back unfilled with the revenge of the playful snack I picked An easy cost to pay for an attack from this pen that I can display Shatter relationships with mere penmanship to make a novice seem amateur in an apprenticeship I can author a thick novel detailing your very downfall
Take over the attention of your mind with a drop of a mere line from a novella I will tell ya Have you download every book like my biggest fan and wonder what beans will I spill again A mere diss to a jab, a jeer to a jest, write a revenge that can hit the best Even in a clean fight does not the dirt the one that hits best I can even write a poem or maybe two or three take away your dignity Low blow to a low brow titanic with low down
You’re no Celine Dion but the hate must go on and on
Showdown for the throwdown off the mountain in the town of the horse you rode down Lyrically cut you up with toe tags in metaphorical body bags They don’t like you anyway no way no how…no not at all
But I’ve learned to embrace the hate channel it into this mind state And fluidly let it fly through this pen to create something resembling a poetic word escape Accomplish the dreams that sights seem so long to go get them Somewhere between where the Earth and sky greet
Is where you’ll find my forgiveness and mercy meet Nothing ventured means nothing gained
The only feeling maintained is the disdain
The death from mere imagination to help subdue a growing guilt Of the monumental wealth of knowledge of dirt that I have built Because the guilty revel in the lies they tell and think all talk is of themselves So be warned, be prepared of the lyrical carnage that lie ahead The lion in the safari picking the bones of the fight that you started throughout every story Payback and retribution begin let the commencement of the Chaucer’s revenge begin Settle a vendetta only a poet can do better a writer that can author with a revenge like a Chaucer
[TO BE CONTINUED]
The Tapestry
I Think I Want To Bury You
[Section #4]
(Diss M.L.)
By
Robby Richardson
I have a beautiful life and as I gaze out the window, I hope my blows swing low Happiness in something so simple...nothing a shovel can’t handle It’s a beautiful life...rekindle my love for vengeance...revenge is like the beauty of a star’s twinkle Revenge is a dish best served cold with no love lost...a debt paid in tears and blood Love in waking up praying for your struggle...make it double...leave your life in dust and rubble Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Whether it’s buried under rumors you spread that turn friend against friend Whether it’s buried under the false gossip and all that it cost ya Whether it’s buried under the drugs that you sell...the age of your clientele Whether it’s buried under adulterous ways and all the teenage Mean Girl games you play Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Let’s grab the shovel...I think I want to bury you
Deep...Deep...Deep in a hole….dark….dark as coal in the bowels of cold Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Oh, by God above have I made my point...Yes...Yea...Yeah...Si Oh in Heaven’s name have I made my point clear…Ja, Oui, Sim, Tak Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Well, I know this little cemetery or a giant graveyard I can dig you a nice big plot like a Dante plot with a small inferno But I am not sure to what circle to put you on
You’re a treacherous, avarice, violent, fraud unoriginal with your prodigality Blasphemy in your heresy when God see’s the things that I’ve seen Nothing but glutinous in your lust with the approval you crave on this infernal path you pave Make Billy Graham even say your soul can’t be saved over the allegations you claimed or made I’ve heard all your ramblings and know about your financial gamblings Your bankruptcy you’re constantly claiming and the repos need repaying You sneaking out the house to go play with your ex-spouse
Cheating is all you can do no morals in you...no decency too Think of the source of the expectations I set when you slept with the ex of the lover you sleep next Or how about her cousin that found your love on her couch or at least with that tongue in your mouth For better or worse...perverse at the worst no matter who does it hurt The swooning damsel you play...portray the portrait of the lies you display You’re built like Costanza and still no one can stands ya
Deserving everything karma’s cards will hand ya to the deepest hole one hopes God damn’s ya Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Whether it’s buried under the money and hours you stole from the job you never showed Whether it’s buried under the lies you told over the supposed friends you hold Whether it’s buried under the trashy way you dress or the lives you leave in a mess Whether it’s buried under your Charlatan ways oppressed from your distress I detest Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Let’s grab the shovel...I think I want to bury you
Deep...Deep...Deep in a hole….dark….dark as coal in the bowels of cold Hey M.L...I think I want to bury you
Oh by God above can this be done..No, Na’am, Ham, Hei
Oh in Heaven’s name have I made my point clear…La, Da, Non, Nein Don’t say that I am lying...Loh, Ne, Net, Nu
No dark corner in the ass crack of Hell is good enough for you Hey M.L....I think I want to bury you
THE END
The Tapestry
You’ve Got A Hater In Me
[Section #5]
(Diss M.L.)
By
Robby Richardson
You’ve got a hater in me...you’ve got a hater in me Oh, you might think this joke’s gone old but no more older than the lies you told You’ve got a hater in me in fact call me an enemy
Yeah bitch, you’ve got a hater in me in fact your tapestry is dead to me Just know you’ll always have a hater in me
When your road looks rough ahead I hope it gets rougher and bumps your head And I hope in that daze you lose your way and it makes you way and sway And if there’s a God above your car will run aground and by Heaven your car breaks down I hope it makes you late for a minute or two for that supposed “job interview”
I hope you take a view when your road seems clear ahead
The path you created is littered with the ashes and dead
Now, I’m no good Samaritan when it comes to you...that if I came across you In that state I would feel great I would wave bye bye as I just drive right by Oh, my hatred for you will NEVER die...You’ve got a hater in me I’ll admit that if found injured in the road...I’d just stroll right on home You’ve got a hater in me
You’ve got troubles...I hope you do, and they weigh and pile on you And when you say you’ve had enough it’s not enough
And when you scream enough is enough it’s STILL not enough
You’ve got a hater in me
Yep, that’s what your “old friend” says...you’ve got a hater in me Some other haters might hate on your size or your face
Your traits or your place or about how you’re a waste of space Some other haters might just hate on your overpriced clothes or you’re repoed car But not me, nope at all...I’ll hate on everything you are
You’ve got a hater in me...yeah, you’ve got an enemy
God answered my prayers when she sent you to me...the lessons you taught me You’ve got a hater in me...shovel in the dirt...dead to me...forever a hater in me THE END
The Tapestry
Forever An Enemy
[Section #6]
(Diss M.L.)
By
Robby Richardson
If every word I said would make you mad...I’d talk forever If every diss I wrote could bring you to tears...I’d diss forever If every lie I spoke about you would strike me dead...I’d walk forever Forever...forever
I’d be so happy hating you
Forever...forever
I’ve been so happy dissing you
Forever...and ever
If every word I said could make you cry...I’d talk forever
If every diss I wrote brings your heart pain...I’d diss forever If every lie I exposed changed your ways...I’d be exposing forever Forever...forever
I’ve been so happy hating you
Forever...forever
If the hate I have for you could break your heart...I’d hate you forever If this hate I have grown for you could grow you moral decency...I’ll hate you forever If the hate I’ve shown to you will grow your conscious...I’ll show you hate forever
I’ll always be so happy hating you
Forever...forever
I’ll always be so happy dissing you
Forever...forever
Let the hate I have for you fester in your heart...forever
Let the hate I have for you help you be considerate of others...forever Let the hate I have for you regrow your kindness...forever
Let the hate I give to you stop all your lies and cheating...forever I am so happy hating you
I am so happy dissing you
You’re dead to me
Nail up the casket ...tapestry painted...labeled portrait of a bitch Forever an enemy an enemy forever
THE END
Dear Chaucer
[Diss M.L, T.B.]
By
Robby Richardson
Chaucer dear…oh my, my dear Chaucer
Forgive my alias to the name of my wrath who called upon Hades like this I've had many enemies, I've had a few where the detest be so pure and so true When I think of my list there comes to mind only two…just two…SPEW
And though they have poked and had their fun
The expense that I paid to be treated like dirt
Can quench my hunger for revenge the true cost of hurt
These words seem like the past to me but will be forever young and forever on going Forever free flowing as if imprinted in galaxies
Too bring just a bit of calamity for the Karma that’s owed to me No revenge is better told than a Chaucer's revenge against your fool's gold So, in turn you're gunna learn a valuable lesson, no star will shine brighter The pen is ALWAYS MIGHTER and NEVER EVER DISS A WRITER
Every day I wake up living out my dream
Can you say the same thing
It puts a smile on my face to see you in your disappointing state Still working a dead-end job when I said au revoir while you’re trying to get so far Always coming up subpar claiming you work so hard your inadequacies are all your fault
Claim your such a diehard but like Christopher Lee I only ever see you die hard Your life just makes me sad reminding me of what I have
How is it that you can stand or stand like look in the mirror with that guilt on your hands That egg on your face from Karmatic transpiring’s a debt paid by fate The choice that it took to go have the look at yourself with no pride in oneself Dead head in a dead-end chasing dreams to dead ends and only finding dead ends So when you see my lifestyle, I like to revel when you revile When you see my child, I like that it gets you riled with my boyish smile When you see my cash, I like when your words lash and try to bring me down Jealous of the man that I have become and doing so well when it all comes down I can sit back, relax, and watch you crash on life's race track Let you marvel in the chaos you have brought upon your own back Your life makes me sad, while you're always mad about the drama you supposedly can’t stand Divorced twice, bankruptcy thrice, financial responsibility that would be my advice When you see this poem published, I hope it makes you mad
When you see people turn their back on you, I hope it makes you sad When you think about me, I hope you'll wish me dead
When your world comes crumbling down all around and Karma comes ahead Lies are a debt that ALWAYS come to collect
You'll find nobody exempt in the people it selects
Chaucer dear knows how dirty one can get on life’s road
When you read this poem beginning to unfold, I hope that it will make you mad When you think of this poem, I hope it will make you sad
Until your last breath who gets a last laugh lying in a bed that cost ya Author my revenge with a simple Dear Chaucer
If honesty stings the best…did your fame come yet…has your ship come in when sun set Did your blog blow up like you want does you interview get more than ten reviews Does anybody care to view your journey of weight loss…are you the new Kate Moss The condescension on spending 200 dollars on yourself for food from a personal food chef When you got how many other unpaid bills left
And if I am to be honest those memories of ours are of lasting fondness And I am being dishonest full of deceit and what it cost us the truth is beyond us A veteran of the office but mentally short with the supplies
Couldn’t handle my work of which you did despise which led to your demise Cling to my work and Cling to my back, cling to my side joined by a Staple That’s why you sent your lackey to get me back
I wonder what happened…did you actually do work or does so long mean so long Maybe have a new appreciation for what you had before it’s gone Goodbye waving as I left on dirt roads to new one’s I’m paving You treat me like dirt, but dirt can rot…tear you from within so let my decay set in Every crack, every crevice, every memory is precious that I tear to shred bits Reminds me to remain humble and the walls that needed to crumble to overcome the struggle Chaucer dear knows how dirty one can get on life’s road
When you read this poem beginning to unfold, I hope that it will make you mad When you think of this poem, I hope it will make you sad
Until your last breath who gets a last laugh lying in a bed and what it cost ya Author my revenge with a simple Dear Chaucer
When you read this poem, you can't deny it’s about you, yes it’s true If you don’t, then you’re the fool, too dumb for school and fell for my Chaucer’s revenge Let's forget to pretend that we are still remotely friends
You can read along I think you'll find it suits you well
And it all began with a simple Dear Chaucer
THE END
The Road To Your Misfortune
[Diss T.B. & M.L.]
By
Robby Richardson
Locked, chained, handcuffed, tied up, weighed down, silenced, bound Your demand is oppressing me, and you keep bringing me down
Be weary of the bite on the hand that feed's ya even when you need ta’
How far off the chain can you let the dog go
Before the real fear seems to take over is the fear even real before the let go Lies are filled with truth of distortion on the road to your misfortune On this road we await the desecration we face
How to find a way to separate my mere survival from mere hate How to separate a mere playful diss and taking it too far
How to separate from just a friendly jab to becoming too personal Walk the fine line between reclaiming the dignity of mine and design your ultimate decline Would I rather live a life with my daughters or revel in satisfaction in the misfortune you find The real question is whether to leave you like animal fodder or do I let it lie wherever I may drop her We've had different ideas, but you just keep pressing just kept pushing just kept putting me down I don't know how to get my revenge but I promise you when I put it down I Imprecate you’ll be plagued by me
I swear that you’ll never forget me
You'll always be exacerbated by the mere memory of me
How should I write it…how should I pen it
Should I sing it…how should I express it
Should I paint it in the stars and have the universe repeat it Take your famed blank canvas and mural it
Or write a symphony of never-ending poetic scores and paint it After all, when is completed really defeated
That highlight of the limelight that robs the twinkle from OZ light Sins amassing a fortune scatter across the road to your misfortune This road takes many different turns, many different directions And take every intersection with a help of prayer and consider it a blessing Write a children's book and straight paint you out the villain Tainted in your opinion, revel in my brilliance, and leave you cured with poetic penicillin Tell you about pathetic and ask how you literally can live with it To be the enemy you wanted…to be the monster you needed
Live the dreams you desire…die with the nightmares you created To leave you broken on the road to your misfortune
Have the cosmos divvy out a karma in equal and large in portions Broken or whole on this road unknown
Where it goes is where it goes and where it ends nobody knows To see the nothing that you have pass and see your potential could never last When did mediocrity become standard, nothing but the choices from you lower standard What happened to working hard to get what you want
To chase the stars to have the drive and the heart and even a little prayer Gunna hit you with reality and the sorrow to leave you drowning in your despairs Put my hands around my mouth...shout NOBODY CARES
Nobody cares about your half stack rag
Nobody cares about your weight loss trip
I get more likes taking a “schvitz”…a little rusty with my Krusty from the Simpsons clips I tend to rip 1,000 Ponzi Schemes to fund your uninspired second rate makeup dreams Drop the curtain on your stage as I ink blood across this page leaving one question left to say I gotta find a way to put aside my rage
On this road to your misfortune
THE END
Do It Again
[Diss M.L.]
By
Robby Richardson
On a sky so gray did rain and wind play
Made out for the day upon fields I gazed on ideas that graze Gray clouds in the shade but still dreams do we chase
Each idea a mere haze on the path that I blaze
No less memorable…the bones some say on lands they lay
The scars that taunt dead leaves they haunt revenge does it flaunt In fields, I done razed do I find my range from a long ago daze upon long forgotten days On this course did I find a horse in tangled in tangles
In rotten rusks does it not rust doth body not rot to dust
No remorse in this corpse with this shovel I’ll beat till hoarse with this horse Let my shovel enforce with another blow of force
Under giants you dwarf pull originality from beating this CLEARLY dead horse You thought the dead could not walk or tales left untold
Do it again all over on roads so well know
HEY M.L.…
When this dead man first dissed you…I admit it felt special
The Writer Eater…a petty little devil unable to let beef settle
So, let’s do it again and this time not so gentle Put the pen to the metaphorical pedal superficial but still hitting multiple levels Some would call circular some more on principal still no less than fire all cylinders SO, HEY M.L.…
When I dissed you, I meant it, a powerful message I need to resend it So many bridges left uncrossed expose every secret no matter the cost So many disses left unsaid so let’s put this animosity to bed I want to go back…want to back to the beginning
Maybe I should give you a fair hearing
How about stealing money from the checks you’ve been clearing Disappearing attendance repeated dependence
Crying at your lack of attendance at everyone’s acceptance
Defend us against the bullshit you spew like transcendence
Can I go back…should I take it all back
Forget about the children you supply with a sack
I want to go back…you stabbed me in the back
Lied to my face…personal for your attack
I’ll rewrite my attack unafraid of retaliation or fear of watching my back Unfiltered exposing the fraud behind the glitter
I want to go back…I can’t because I’ve packed…closed up shop All because you couldn’t do the basics of the job you got
Can I go back…back to a time when facts renewed wound attacks It was nice…h, so nice to diss you…so let’s do it again
Do it again…do it again
You’re lying about your heart attacks…lying about the cancer coming back Do it again…do it again
Thinking that the truth was stacked from the shit you stashed Let you lie in your shit and bask in an aura not of flora
You bring nothing but Pandora…a real Gomorrah
It was nice…oh, so nice to diss you let’s do it again
Wondering how S&#? didn’t wonder to get the surveillance you’re desperate to protect In the videos we kept of the lives you wrecked a revolving door for a whore with an ex An ex you claim to see no more with no feelings you store
The secrets from a camera like a raven more no nevermore
High on your podium there my rotten Lenore and kick the base from your floor
Unaware of what struck her a fall from Usher Now tell me who’s the pusher…damn right, I’ll push her
Giving bud to her cubs…HER CUBS…awfully close with whose ex’s The elbows you rub…you want to get serious with a real conspiracy theorist Like shouldn’t DCFS be all up in this…investigating this
Who supplies an 8th to a child of 8th
On them lips did spin tales…oh these tales they do tell
So, let this shovel hit the dirt in your grave under earth
Under the mud runs this blood of a memory I just shrug
Let this dirt cover up…kiss it goodbye so pucker up
My final rites amen let this shovel get stuck again
Let it wave in the wind and think of the days ahead
Impressed with what I have laid to rest
A nightmare suspend…
NOW LET’S PICK UP THE SHOVEL AND DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN
They do toll on all the tolls paid to move your family for a job you couldn’t hold You gave up for greener grass for grass greener
Behind a cosmetic mall window of failure that could be cleaner Claiming to a blogger with support but nobody’s seen her
The mall pest spraying perfume was the life you chose
An annoying gnat is your whole role…it seems to suit you whole Oh, so complete with makeup made up so cheap
“Critique the technique”…the technique I critique
HEY M.L.…
Are you sure you can handle it
Because this dead man won’t stand for it…you’re conniving and underhanded Lost all our jobs and you had a hand in it…petty in life’s full of choices don’t it Poor unfortunate soul whose tale is told cold in the bed you made Let you degrade, let your memory fade, a debt of revenge never repaid Let Karma finally catch her…all her friends cast her
Mad as a hatter…let this dirt have at her…let this shovel clatter NOW LET’S PICK UP THE SHOVEL AND DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN
THE END
The Tapestry
I Was Made For Hating You
[Section #7]
(Diss M.L.)
By
Robby Richardson
I was made for hating you baby
You were made for hating yourself baby
I can’t express my hate for you
I can’t express my loathing for you
I can’t express this rage in just a mere stanza
But the pen is still the weapon so it’s all hands on
And this hate…this hate was made for you
Tonight, and for the rest of my life, I want to give this hate to you In the darkness or the dead of night, I smile thinking of your demise And tonight, I want you to know this tapestry will never end The hatred for you will never end…a hate everlasting throughout time This loathing for you will never die and even when the memory fades The hatred from these words pervades and leads to your degrade It stands this test of time…this hatred of mine
I was made for hating you baby
You were made for hating yourself baby
I can’t express my hate for you
I can’t express my loathing for you
And this hate was made for you
Tonight, I wish you nothing but tears
Hoping you are consumed by your fears
Oh, is it the fear of loss or being alone
I see that S&%? is gone leaving you on your own
Did she come to her senses…mad about your expenses
Or did she finally catch you red handed with your numerous exes I’m sure you feel real magic causing drama and the tragic
Call you out and you say “oh don’t be so dramatic”
I was made for hating you baby
You were made for hating yourself baby
I can’t express my hate for you
I can’t express my loathing for you
And this hate…this hate was made for you
I’m sure deep down you surely love it…all the attention you can leech off of it You can tell all our friends how you’re the victim…oh such a victim
Oh, haven’t you had enough…aren’t you tired enough Isn’t life rough enough without your meddlin’ and muckin’ it up But you love the drama it’s the sundae in your life
And the cherry on top is when you manage to fuck it all up
I was made for hating you baby
You were made for hating yourself baby
I can’t express my hate for you
I can’t express my loathing for you
I can’t express this rage in a mere stanza
But the pen is still the weapon so it’s all hands on
And this hate…this hate was made for you
THE END
The Tapestry
My Hate Will Go On
[Section #8]
(Diss M.L.)
By
Robby Richardson
Every dream and every wish
In every moment or aspect and way
I dislike you…I hate you…I loathe you
And this tapestry is how you know this hate will…go on
If there’s a God above, he won’t mind the removal of a glove I’m no apostle but If revenge is good enough for God to model on Sodom Then for everything you do I daresay its good enough for you Every missed chance or misfortune
Every tough break or unfortune
In every opportunity and instant
Bad luck, ill luck, or no luck
That is what I wish on you and you…alone
Please know…
I detest you…despise you…abhor you
Formed in an unfortunate history of my past
But the hatred stretches far into the future and beyond
And this tapestry will show how my hate for you will…go on Here…now…or there and later…wherever you are…wherever you go I believe that my hate for you will go on
No matter how far you run or how in the dark you hide
My hate is at your side and in your mind and I believe that this hate will go on Just when I think you’ve had enough hate and its bordering on obsession Just when I think that you’ve learned your lesson
Once more you’d invite in my hate some more
You’d mess with the bull and get more than just a horn
And you’re here woven in this tapestry of hate and scorn
And my hate will go on and on
Hate can touch you one time and last beyond a lifetime
A feud, a grudge, a vendetta
A dilemma to never let go until it withers on the vine
Forgiveness, harmony, peace
Are ALL things that are gone and they are gone so this hate can go on and on
Late at night I do tell I know you well M.L.
You sit at your mirror bask at the lies behind the mask and silently ask BUT WHY DOES HIS HATE GO ON
Narcissism, compulsive, or a borderline personality
Something Freud couldn’t even coin or is it just expressive individuality Cheating…cancer…drugs…theft…fraud
The lies go on and on…any excuse to avoid the job at all
Hate started with a lie and grew with the years I’ve known you and despise The lies you spun in your webs that has snowballed into a snow village of snowman Lies that can be disproved by known man…you live for drama that’s your plan Your life is like a show man, and you live to be the showman Hate was when I hated you…when you said I don’t care about you You don’t care for me…your history is deploring, and you need to go on Maury Tell your story to find an answer to our quarry…
BUT WHY DOES THE HATE GO ON
Just…when…
I think I couldn’t possibly hate you any more…you blow down my door And top yourself with something even more outlandish than before Days, weeks, months, years
However far, however long until your memory is gone
And while you’re here in my mind the very fire that sparks my drive Forever you’ll stay, forever your drama, forever your lies
It’s all safe in my hate and my hate for you will go on and on
THE END
The Adventures of Super Hater
[Diss M.L., T.B., D.Y.]
By
Robby Richardson
Look up in the sky with the speed of insults as fast as a train and the insults of Don Rickles No bird or plane just hate leaving the arrogant to cripple
It’s just an average writer trying to build his name
Trying to build his cred and after all is said
Let me introduce myself to all those who soon will dread
I’m a Super Hater…THE…Sup – Super Hater
A hate that equals a whole group of haters
I’m the eggplant emoji in your ring of fire
That plateau in your peak when the Apex is so much higher
I’m the thumbs down icon in a thumbs up crowd
The downvote in that lifelong dream achieved that left you feeling so proud I’m that critic with a sneer that one finds with Ben Stein
The Simon Cowell consistently disappointed and unimpressed with the talent you knew so well With a hate that topples the ego of giants its up, up and away with a middle finger farewell I’m a Super Hater…THE…Sup – Super Hater
Rioting through your life like a group of Antifa haters
With a 3-D logo across my chest
With the superpowers to despise, dislike and detest Can hate on anything of yours whether big or small, worst or best Ugly or pretty…every single fault from the large to the itty–bitty Been known to hate even down to the nitty-gritty
Whether you’re a snake or just plain narcistic I’m nature’s harshest critic All my villains better find religion I’m about to make them regret every life made decision I can hate your ass with a single poetic line
Leap over your intelligence in a single bound
All without ever leaving the ground
Bring all the hostility into every plan or possibility
You ask me how…you tell me your cards are stacked against me Despite being mature with a superhuman ability of financial responsibility With an artillery of hate fueled by my ink of creativity
Maybe I’m a super teacher sent to teach you life’s Jane Austin a little Sense and Sensibility Or maybe your brain just simply lacks any common sense ability
(Based Loosely On True Events)
BEEP… Robby turned to the four computer monitors all stacked on top of each other. Multiple cords tangled down the wall behind them and underneath the rickety wooden desk. The faded black wood had been worn down over its many years of daily use. Bulldog Security was the premier alarm company sounding amazing on paper and in theory. However, it was a company that few had heard of.
A dying name in an overgrowing field of competition. The implementation of the system was its downfall. The old equipment could barely keep up with the advancing technology of the alarm industry.
The whole table wobbled as it took a moment for his eyes to lock on the alarm in front of him.
He nearly held out his hand in protest as a loud BAAAAA rang through the room. “AH,” exclaimed Robby as he nearly teetered out of his office chair. The alarm was colored yellow and yellow alarms meant it was an audio alarm. Robby hit the reset button and the alarm dropped off his monitor board.
He rolled his eyes turning towards the door behind him. “Lyle,” he shouted to one of the two occupants in the adjacent room. Silence was followed by a soft paper rustling and seat shuffling. “Hey Willy,” Robby couldn’t hide the smirk as he heard the gruff voice of Lyle respond. “Robby, I told you that if you keep calling me that I am going to go straight to Steve!” Robby rolled his eyes again knowing that Lyle’s response to every problem or slight discomfort would result in a visit to Steve the Vice President of the Bulldog Security.
“Well, if you didn’t look like the spitting image of Willy Nelson I wouldn’t…” The cheap wooden door was thrown open by a cryptic hand rattling against the wall it smacked. A gangly hippie that seemed to enforce a silent protest to never forget the sixties or let them die. “I have told you a hundred times that I don’t like to be called that! And this is the last time that I will tell you before
going to Steve.” Ignoring his threat Robby asked the questions that initiated the whole interaction between them. “Have you disabled the listen back feature for Clark Roofing yet? I can do it myself. I just want to make sure that it’s ok. You are the programmer, and I just don’t want to step on any toes.”
“You can NOT disable the listen back feature without getting customer approval!” “Yes, I know. I haven’t been able to get into contact with any of the reps on the account.” Lyle shrugged with his usual
“oh well,” attitude. He ran his hand through his gray beard staring at Robby who continued to protest.
“So, we’re just going to keep disabling this audio every day and night because the audio detector was put in a terrible location?” “It is not my job to make those kind of calls…” “They are a PROGRAMMING problem though? And YOU are the programmer.” Lyle shook his head stubbornly similar to a mule refusing to take another step. “No, no, no, it is a monitoring problem. The supervisor needs to be calling the customer on problems like this and…” “But our supervisor is never here! She barely works at all or even comes in!” Lyle shrugged, “It’s not my problem that she’s never here.”
A door in the other room squeaked ajar as Lyle exclaimed in surprise. “Well, well, well, speak of the devil look who finally decided to show up for work!” Robby’s linebacker sized supervisor had arrived with an immediate scowl on her face at the sight of Lyle. “Lyle, you need to take a chill pill with your million cigarettes a day. Robby where’s Sandra?” Melissa’s chubby face beamed with an excitement that almost seemed electric. “She’s in the bathroom.” She waved her hand, “okay can you grab her and meet me outside? I want to show you guys something! I got my new car! Lyle, can you monitor the alarms for a moment?”
A few minutes later, Robby and his first shift partner Sandra walked towards their waving supervisor. “Come on guys, over here check it out…” Melissa’s eustatic pronouncement as she revealed her new car to them both. The freshly waxed 2016 tan color Ford Bronco shone like it had just come from the car lot. Her smile beamed from ear to ear as she waited in anticipation for Sandra and Robby’s mutual excitement. Sandra gave a friendly and polite smile, “it’s great Melissa. I am glad
that you got a car that you like.” “It’s got more room and more reliability. I won’t have to constantly be going to the mechanic to fix those miniscule problems anymore.”
Robby’s eyes turned from the Bronco and glanced at Sandra. He smirked seeing the same disbelief cross her annoyed face. Melissa had not noticed as she watched Robby eyeing her new purchase. “You aren’t saying anything Robby?” Robby began to walk towards the SUV as if inspecting it for his own purchase. “No, it’s great Melissa…second hand, right?” Melissa watched Robby’s eyes flick to her. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she straightened her glasses. She watched his attention return to the Bronco replying “Yes, is there a problem?” Robby kicked the tire softly and shrugged, “no, no I just…well to be honest I liked your old car better.” “It broke down all the time!” Nodding in agreement Robby replied, “no you’re right! I just like the sporty car vibe that it had, that’s all. What happened to it again?” “You know what happened Robby stop playing stupid!”
Robby shrugged and with that boyish almost playful smile. He chortled, “I know-I know, I just didn’t recall. Oh wait, repoed right?” Melissa evidently starting to get annoyed. She flustered herself up, “NO that was the Intrepid. The one before the last one.” Robby’s finger wagged at her, “right, right because your credit got messed up again after the bankruptcy.” “You know Robby if you came out here just to…” Melissa’s words were silenced by Robby’s inquisitive. “Can I see inside…”
“Inside…” Melissa replied, catching him off guard. A small smile returned to her face as the excitement of owning the new SUV returned. “Yeah sure…Sandra you want to take a look?” Sandra eyes squinting from the sun and shook her head. “If it’s all the same with you Melissa, can I go back in to monitor?”
The smile fell again, but Melissa tried to regain some of her disintegrating excitement.
“Yeah…might as well. Lord knows we don’t need Lyle running to Steve complaining that we were making him work for once.” Sandra chuckled, “I wouldn’t expect him to be back there monitoring anyway! He’s probably out for his hundredth cigarette for the day.” Melissa nodded chortling,
“yeah…right!” Melissa watched her walk away with a slight scowl on her face. Disappointed that her friend had not swooned over her new car. She turned to soak up the hopeful compliments of the only person that seemed to be giving it to her.
Her mouth dropped open to see Robby in her SUV examining it like he was preparing to make his own offer. Melissa moved towards the passenger door. “I see you went up in size huh? Expecting to be carting Lara and the kids around in this huh?” Melissa’s piercing stare did not waiver him.
“Yeah, well with the move coming up I would need something bigger anyway.” Robby nodded as he glanced at the radio, “Lara’s got what two kids?” Melissa gave him a suspicious little flick of the eyes,
“three…” Robby nodded, “yeah can you imagine her three kids back here all together at the same time!” Melissa watched him give one final look over the interior. “I’m just wondering if it is big enough. I’m just saying it’s kind of small for three kids, you know? How many miles?” Melissa seemed unsure why she was even answering his questions but preparing to end his inspection.
“120,000, you know we should…” “Oh, DAMN a lot of miles too…” Robby exclaimed pushing his fist to his mouth.
“You know Robby let’s go back inside and…” Robby prepared to retreat before glancing at the seats. “Seats are really worn down not much cushion…Oh, check that out!” “Robby…” Melissa attempted to thwart her co-worker’s attention. Robby opened the driver door to examine the radio,
“That’s got to be a custom radio…” “Robby…” Melissa’s redirection again failed when his hand began to wave randomly in front of his face. “Woah, it’s really dusty in here…” He waved again as his eyes began to narrow and then he began to cough. He tried desperately to remove himself from the vehicle. However, he had not been quick enough. Melissa watched the floating spit particles reflected under the sunlight of her front window scatter across everything. Robby appeared to aim directly onto her steering wheel and surrounding area before exiting.
“What the hell Robby? I mean, what the HELL?” Robby came around the corner of the
Bronco hand to mouth attempting to quell the sudden outburst of germs. “I am so sorry Melissa! I am so sorry! I can clean it right up.” “You’re damn right that you will clean it right up!” “of course, of course, I’ll go grab some cleaning supplies and take care of that. Can you just cover me on monitoring?” Melissa’s outburst of rage had paused like a door had closed suppressing her raging fire.
“What…what did you say?” “Monitoring…Sandra is leaving, and I’m working a double covering for Claudia remember?” Her eyes began to search within her head, flittering back and forth behind her glasses. Her brow furrowed deep in thought trying to process what was transpiring. “I’ll, I’ll just have Lyle watch…” “You’ll have Lyle…Lyle…monitor and do programming while you are doing what exactly? You just got here and…” “Fine Robby, FINE, I’ll just clean it myself…” “No, no, no, I’ll clean it! I am just saying you would have to do some work just for a little…” “Oh, you’re always just saying Robby…” Waving her hand in a frustrated defeat, “just…just go back inside…” Robby gave one final look and returned to Central Station.
(Based On True Events)
The overcrowded Central Station seemed to shrink underneath growing additions like a bookshelf and an additional table for mail. The cheap wood door rattled open clattering against the printer next to it. Robby turned from the four monitors with a little swivel in his chair. SQUEAK, hit the ear as a rattling of brown bags entered the room. The printer took the blow with a mechanical little whir from within. The two bags dropped on top of her desk as Melissa had made her way into the office. “Where have you been?” Robby had not meant to be so brash with his supervisor.
She turned her marshmallow like face towards him straightening her glasses on her doughy nose. “What do you mean? I had to pick up my food!” “All day,” Melissa’s face frowned at him.
“What’s the deal Robby?” “The deal is Melissa today was a damn shit show! We had one of the call cards go down and half the accounts were on No Contact.” “It’s the middle of the day. Who cares?
It’s not like customers are arming up the system.” “That’s not the point Melissa. You said you were going to be here. You know we are short staffed, and Sandra is working a…”
He watched Melissa reach into the two large brown paper bags and begin to withdraw the contents. She retrieved plastic containers of what looked to be blended up vegetables. She listened to him as she stacked the plastic containers with disinterest. Robby had lost track of what he was saying,
“what is that, Melissa?” “My personal trainer and his wife have a side hustle where they cook meals in advance for you. That’s why I was gone, I had to go pick it up. You think I would pay $200 and have to wait on my…”
“Wait, wait you spent $200 dollars on that food?” Melissa nodded placing the final plastic tub on her desk. “Yeah, why are you giving me that look?” “Do you know how much food you COULD
have gotten for $200 dollars compared to this? This…this is nothing. How long is that supposed to
feed you and Muaz?” “Oh, Muaz won’t eat this, but it should last me a week…” Robby rolled his eyes in a mocking disbelief. “It’s not about the money Robby! It’s about the health factor. It will help me reach my weight goals. I won’t need to buy any other food for the entire week.” “It’s all vegetables, kale, and quinoa! All that stuff won’t LAST a week! You need to eat it all in a couple days. You just completely WASTED 200 dollars! In addition, Muaz will have to go out and buy his own groceries now too!”
I’m a Super Hater…THE…Sup – Super Hater
I’m the griefer round town that brings your walls down
Causing Bedlam when I rise from bed Ma’am
Mind’s I craft through mine’s own craft
I’m that frowny face in your livestream lapse
Eat your full course meal while you beg for scraps
I’m quick to point out flaws in your editing
I’m your follower that is always discrediting
The power to make the smallest comment seem meddling
Strike you from your Eifel high horse and knock you 65 Christopher Reeves ways down Leave you blue without a clue…leave baby in the corner and warn her That I’ll just leave you there to cry sobbing da ba dee da ba di
[Loosely Based On True Events]
Robby’s red Toyota Corolla pulled into the only remaining parking spot. The back of his supervisor’s apartment complex was sure to fit into the next Scream movie. A few lights trailed along the back brown brick wall trying to fill the full parking lot with light. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror as he stared at row after row of concrete stoops, each more plain the next. The few exceptions did stand out as Robby’s eyes fell on a pink flamingo lawn ornament. He assumed that this decoration would be the indicator to Melissa and her husband Muaz’s residence.
Gathering up his belongings, he groaned to himself letting his head hit the head rest behind him.
The question of his present circumstances and the reasons for him being there evaporated when a soft PING filled the car. Light from his cellphone illuminated the darkness immediately grabbing his attention. He grabbed his phone and smirked seeing text messages from his friend and fellow Central Station Operator Lisa.
LISA
“Hey Robby, you’re still planning on heading over to Melissa’s tonight?”
ROBBY
“Yeah, you should have come!”
LISA
“I don’t need to hear anything that lying sack of shit has to say! Why are you even going?”
ROBBY
“She wants to have a little ‘game night’ with all the operators. Also, she wants to talk about our
eventual raises. She says that there are some complications.”
LISA
“LOL, complications! SHE is the complication!”
ROBBY
“What do you mean? She was telling me that she was having issues with Steve and Jim.”
LISA
“SHE is the issue! She went to try and get us our raises like she said she would. However, she said that everyone should be getting the raise including her or nobody should get one.”
ROBBY
“WHAT…she already got a raise! She also gets bonuses. What the hell is she talking about? Where did you hear all this?”
LISA
“She told Steve that she needs a raise if the operators are getting a raise. Steve doesn’t want to give her a raise. Hence the complications…I heard it from Mark that it was an all or nothing thing. She plans on talking more about it tonight at her supposed ‘Operator Game Night’.”
ROBBY
“Wait, so we could possibly not be getting the raise at all? A raise that we DESERVE! A raise that we haven’t gotten in years because she wants to be included with the raise.
LISA
“That’s right! Have fun my friend!”
Robby approached the pink flamingo seeing Melissa’s patio filled with green plants and various lawn ornaments. Two wrought iron benches sat on adjacent sides of the sliding glass door. He stepped up to a green rug that covered the concrete patio stoop. The sliding door deprived for years of cleaning or maintenance rocked open with a CLUNCK… CLUNK… CLUNK. Unperturbed by the door Melissa’s smile beamed at him as she straightened her glasses. “Robby…” she exclaimed, which seemed to take him aback. He was surprised to see that she was pleased to see him, possibly even glad. His eyes seemed to narrow in suspicion as her usual temperament was that of disappointment and unhappiness.
Melissa moved to the side to let him in. Robby shrugged off her usual mood to that of normal workday related feelings.
“Thanks Melissa, it looks as if the slide is gone from your sliding door huh?” “We called the landlord to get maintenance out here to fix it several times.” Robby nodded as he entered into the living room. The small living room was overfilled with a large couch, love seat, oversized glass coffee table, TV, and stand. “This is your place huh?” Melissa nodded with that continued smile, “Yeah, you like it, Robby?” Robby nodded knowing that she was fishing for a comment. “Yeah…great, so where is Sandra? Lisa? Joe? Or is game night just going to be you, me, and your husband Muaz?” Melissa shook her head, “no you know Sandra always running late. I am surprised that your wife let you out of the house.” Robby gave a polite smirk, “well I was interested in hearing the news about all the issues that we have been having. You said we should have an outlet to clear the air. So, why not make it something fun right? The game night was just kind of the perk you know?”
Melissa’s eyes seemed to scan over him as if searching for something that wasn’t there. “Why are you repeating what I said?” “BARK, BARK, BARK…” The yapping bark was coming from Melissa’s little Pomeranian dog. A small bush of brown fur leapt up onto the oversized blue sofa.
Robby saw Melissa’s dog Luigi appear from out of nowhere. “Hello Luigi…” Robby said politely as Melissa asked, “So would you like a tour?” “Well first can you tell me what is exactly going on? Are
we getting our raises or not? Melissa, you know that I never ask for a raise. It’s just getting annoying because First Shift gets busy especially on Mondays and Fridays. We’re always having to cover programming because Lyle is constantly taking cigarette breaks to avoid working. Between customers, technicians…”
Melissa raised her large hand and outstretched her sausage finger towards him. “I hear you, Robby! Steve said that he would speak to him again…” “Steve always speaks to him. He does nothing BUT speak to him! They are best friends that is why he’ so easy on him.” “Well, Lyle understands the programming a lot more in depth than Steve does.” Robby watched his mountain of a supervisor shift almost uneasily on her red frilly rug underneath her. “He needs Lyle, right? He doesn’t want to get Lyle upset because he doesn’t want to lose Lyle…that’s it, isn’t it?” “No,” she said but her eyes immediately read and underlining clarification in his statement.
Robby turned feeling an inward anger beginning to catch light. A man emerged from the small hallway to his right. “Muaz, what’s up?” Robby rarely had heard Melissa’s husband outside of a phone call. A handsome man with a handyman quality gave an acknowledging smile. Hand ran through his scraggly black beard as he peered above his thick black rimmed glasses. Robby remembered Melissa telling him how she had helped him to immigrate from Morocco. How she had married him to help him with his citizenship. “Robby, how’re you doing my friend?” Raising a glass beer bottle from the fridge with a polite little smile. “Derek still riding you?” Muaz was the new technician for Bulldog Security and still in his apprenticeship. Mentoring under Derek the noted “hard ass” and Head of Installation.
“When is Derek not riding anybody? I just got off from the Norkol job! I heard he got on you the other day about the programmed door at the new install at Popeyes.” “No, I fixed that door after Lyle programmed it from 24 hour to access…” “Ok guys can we not talk that much about work tonight, ok?” Robby nodded as he removed his sweater and tossed it on the large sofa. “Muaz, you
hear that new Ill Nino album?” “You know I don’t listen to that pussy ass shit Robby!” Robby snapped his fingers, “that’s right I forgot you like music where you can’t make anything out.” Muaz’s attitude seemed to get brighter, “you’re one to talk my friend! You’re listening to Spanish music that you don’t even understand.” “True, very true…” Robby chuckled snapping his fingers at him. Muaz gave one final toast of his bottle before heading back down the hallway. “So let me give you the tour just follow me and…” Melissa turned making her way around the sofa. TINK… “AH…” Robby cried out as his shin hit the glass corner of Melissa’s oversized coffee table. “Careful round this corner here…” Robby saw another small one-seater completely concealed behind her. “God damn Melissa that hurt like a mother…” “Oh, stop being a baby Kyle!”
Robby followed her trail between the one-seater, love seat, and couch into the kitchen. “So, you didn’t tell me what you think about the living room.” “Crowded as a motherfucker…” Robby bent down and rubbed his shin again. “Crowded…” “Yeah, why the fuck am I trudging through your living room like its a God damn makeshift snowbank to get to the damn kitchen. Doesn’t that bother you and Muaz?” “You know Robby you could have gone the other way by the TV if it was too difficult for you.” Hands ceased its unhelpful rubbing of his shin as his eyes gazed up towards her.
“You said to follow you and…” “No, I didn’t…” Straightening up Robby’s brow furrowed in confusion as he repeated. “You said follow me and…” “No, I didn’t…” Eyes narrowed, “Melissa you LITERALLY said two seconds ago to follow you. I heard you and…” “Oh that…THAT…no you misheard me I said follow me if you want to or go…” “No, you didn’t…” “Anyway, this is the kitchen. You didn’t say what your first impressions of our place were?” Robby turned back to the living room, “it’s…nice Melissa. You and Muaz moved in here after you got married right?” Melissa nodded, “Yeah just us and Luigi.”
Robby nodded politely back at her. “So, what happened when you and Steve went to go talk with Jim about the raises?” “Well, it went as well as you would expect it to go with the President of
the company.” Melissa’s face had turned to a soft scowl. She was evidently upset that the conversation had taken such a drastic turn from her apartment. “Which would be…” “Well, I was hoping that the rest of the group would be here first, but….” She gave a final look towards the sliding glass door and then back at her co-worker. “Jim is just cheap. You know that right? He’s just a really cheap guy at the end of the day. Any way he can save the company money and keep the profits looking good for future clients and investors…” “What did he say?” Robby interjected cutting her off. He realized that what Lisa had texted him in the car was the truth. “They are both in agreement about giving us a raise. It is just going to take a couple days of Steve and him going over the amounts and numbers.”
Robby felt confusion wash over him as he thought immediately about Lisa’s conversation with him. “Did you say give us?” Melissa must have sensed her mistake and immediately began to mentally backtrack. “No, I meant it as in like Central Station…you know, all of us!” “But you, I mean YOU didn’t ask for a raise, right? After all, you just got a raise, and you get an end of the year bonus too. Why would Steve and Jim need to go over the raise for days if they are both in agreement. I have been working for the same hourly pay for two years. Sandra and I work first shift…we do more work and we never call off…” “Ok, Robby you don’t need to give me your whole speech again. I sat through it once and said you’ll get your raise, didn’t I? I am getting a raise for the operators and only the operators. Now, I will fill you in on everything when everybody arrives. Will that be ok with you?
Can I finish with the tour?”
Realizing that Melissa had reverted back to her consistent and habitual pattern of telling lies.
Robby muttered under his breath at the growing resentment he had for his supervisor. It was hard to believe that he had met a boss he detested worse than Tom from his years at STAPLES. Melissa must have taken Robby’s inward dilemma for some temporary resolution or placid admiration. “It’s nice isn’t it…” Robby had to turn back to her and saw that familiar smirk spreading across her face. It took
a second for him to realize what she was referring to. He saw that it was the living room again and soon his resentment couldn’t be contained. His voice was calm and even, “No like I said it’s great perfect for just you and Muaz. I like how you have sofas with oversized cushioned seats. It makes everything appear very comfortable.” “Well, I’m a big comfy kind a girl ya know!” Her face turned goofy as Robby gave a false smile back at her. “Yeah, and then you got this big ass glass table right in the middle of the room. So, every time somebody comes in they get to break their shin.” “Robby…”
Melissa began to protest but he held up his hand, “I’m just saying it’s funny that all especially the tiny one seater you got jammed over in the corner there. You have to take up all the space possible in a room like this. Makes me want to just sit around and watch movies for hours. It’s a perfect little room for you and Muaz. A big massive sofa for you both to just curl up in.” Melissa smiled seemingly unregistering the underhanded comments he was making.
“Don’t you love the kitchen, I sat here before you came literally for an hour making Guacamole. I am so the bomb at making Guacamole you have no idea! Have you ever had my Guac?”
“Um…I…maybe?” She practically beamed as she waved her hand, “then you didn’t have it. It will blow your mind. I can literally stand here and just throw something together.” “Melissa, can you turn on the lights? Do we have to stand here with just the one light on in the living room? If you’re trying to save on electricity or something believe me, I get it.” Melissa completely unaware flicked the light switch and three lights above the cabinets came on. “Better…” The kitchen barely illuminated, “I don’t understand did you turn them on yet? I still can barely see you.” Melissa taking his comments as playful joking pushed him with a “shut up!”
Robby’s head shook in confusion as Melissa waved her hand towards a small little alcove with a tiny four-person wooden table blocking the front door. He saw several pairs of boots and shoes next to it. “This is the dining area.” “Is that the front door?” Melissa must have anticipated the question,
“the table is supposed to go here.” She motioned to the spot that they were currently standing in. “You
are supposed to put like a little two-person table here you know? But if we did that, we would not have enough room in the kitchen. We would just lose so much space.” Robby realized that her large figure would not permit an accommodating table in the area. He nodded more to himself as he motioned towards the tiny table. “So, is this where we are going to play the game then?” Melissa nodded, “yeah it’s worked out so much better over here.”
“You know what Melissa. You’re right! I love how the kitchen table is right next to the front door. So, if somebody comes or shows up you don’t even have to leave the table.” “Everybody just comes through the back door anyway. Nobody comes to the front door that we want to talk to anyway.” Robby shrugged, “I guess that makes sense. But what do you do when you leave, and you need to lock up? Wouldn’t you have to leave the back door open all day? And what if there’s a fire?
It’s good that you have to run through a plate of glass to escape. Or you have to climb over your kitchen table …” “Robby you’re so stupid!”
Her hand went around his shoulder as she led him through the small hallway that Muaz went down. “That’s the bathroom,” she said it as if it was something of no interest. However, Robby reached out and opened the already ajar door. The door swung until it stopped halfway making a loud BANG! Stopping in his place to take a quick look and then turning back to her asked “does…does the door not open all the way?” Melissa turned to the master bedroom behind her and bellowed like she was calling from the ranch. “Muaz!?!” A grumbling response from the room was inaudible and indiscernible like a baby learning to converse. Melissa must have taken his response as an actual response. “I thought you were going to replace those damn handles and shave the door down?”
Another indiscernible grumble, Robby couldn’t help but chuckle.
Melissa turned back to him, “what’s so funny? That’s how he responds to me with that little cave man grumble he does.” “He’s just probably so used to you yelling at him that’s just how he responds. I would…” “Don’t take his side…you’re supposed to be on my side! I am your boss!”
Robby rolled his eyes, “so that’s why the door won’t open all the way?” Melissa shook her head, “no Muaz was supposed to replace the handles of the cabinet doors and shave the door down to help it open all the way.” “Um Melissa, it’s hitting the actual cabinet.” “Once, he shaves it down Robby we should be good. It will look great.” “Yeah, yeah,” said Robby with an evident tone of disbelief. “Until then I love the fact that you have to do such maneuvering just to USE the bathroom or shower.” “As I said when Muaz gets off his lazy ass…” “No, no you shouldn’t do anything! I love to add a bit of challenge to every part of my day. Especially when I am most vulnerable, you know at night. I can get out of bed in a sleep deprived delirious state.” “Robby, I know the bathroom is small it is a working process.” “No Melissa, I’m just saying and am afraid you are mishearing me. I like the fact that everything the bathroom is used for is a challenge from taking a shower to using the toilet. You have to change in the hallway, don’t you? I am sure Muaz loves doing that.” “Robby,” Melissa growled her face starting to stiffen in a boiling rage. An indiscernible grumble came from the master bedroom.
Her red face seemed to subside, “That’s the master bedroom behind me.” Robby leaned into the room and saw Muaz sprawled over the large bed in shorts and shirt with beer in hand. “Giant bed,”
Melissa nodded, “we love to sleep.” “Indeed, enough that the bed takes up nearly the entire room. I love how Muaz has to crawl over the bed to actually get into his spot TO sleep. Or crawl out of bed to go to the bathroom at night…” Muaz raised his hands in the air as if he had been preaching something to her for a long time. She rolled her eyes and made her way into the final room of their apartment.
“And this is where all the hustle happens…” Robby snorted trying to play it off as if rubbing his mouth on his sleeve. The light pink room seemed filled with the hopes and dreams of her ambitions to become a successful plus sized model and makeup star. Along the wall lined hundreds of nail polish colors and beauty supplies. The entire rest of the wall was lined with makeup of every container and brand that had ever existed throughout mankind’s history. A computer setup lay directly in front of him with a large vanity mirror behind it. A large standing doughnut light sat adjacent to her laptop. A
large rolling green screen lined the wall to the right. The remaining space of the room was filled with clothes. Her closet had resembled a modern-day drinking binge and purge. Clothes stern over the many makeup boxes, containers, carriers, and numerous unrecognizable items. Every item seemed swallowed by the expulsion of clothes from the bulging closet. Robby walked over to the mountain of clothes and noticed the price tags still attached to most of them.
“That’s all my makeup stuff for my business and the clothes are from modeling. You know they’ll donate them to me. It’s a marketing and promotion thing you know giving them a shout out or doing a shoot for them.” “So, all this…all this new stuff here is donated?” She nodded as he looked away rolling his eyes trying to hide his smirks of comedic disbelief. He realized that seeing her apartment was like seeing behind the veil. Seeing the truth behind Oz and the man behind the fire and smoke. She had forgotten that she had told Robby that she had declared bankruptcy three times. She had a habit of blowing money and the two factors were makeup and clothes. “What is this?” Robby asked moving towards the doughnut light. Examining the exposed bulb, he held it up as Melissa gave a worrisome little. “Be careful,” she raised her hands in an attempt to remove it. However, Robby returned it to the vanity stand. “It’s for making my content and makeup tutorials.” Robby wagged his finger, “right, right your content. I almost forgot about that. How many subscribers you got again?”
He saw the once joyous look she had when talking about everything she wanted to talk about vanish. Perhaps she was hoping that she would get the narcissistic praise that she always attempted to claw out of you. She faltered, “well you’re a member you’ve seen the numbers, right?” Robby turned back to the desk, “I haven’t really paid attention. After all I only joined to be nice. Believe it or not cosmetics is not my thing if you couldn’t guess that.” Her smile returned, “Well I’m growing more and more. I’m starting to receive product referrals too.” Robby smirked remembering the number of her followers being around thirteen. He shook his head as his eyes glanced into the vanity mirror.
Wanting more than ever to get back home to his wife and daughter. “Oh, I think Sandra and Joe are
pulling up now! So, what do you think?”
Robby turned to his supervisor feeling anger that was more towards himself than her. He was stupid to come here. Lisa had been right in her messages to him earlier. Envious of her refusal to come to the employee game night slash work evening. Robby gave that false little smile he felt fit so well whenever she was around. “I love it, Melissa. I think you and Muaz have made quite a cozy little home here.” “Cozy…” Robby nodded, “yeah, it’s quaint and fits you guys. I love how this room is your work room slash second closet. You know you have to shuffle everything around and make a complete mess to get to what you want.” “Well, it’s also my studio.” “Indeed, I was just going to mention that. I saw all that stuff under the clothes. Although, it’s got to be a hassle shifting all that stuff around all the time though, right? On the plus side thought it’s good to incorporate a workout in every aspect of your life. But you have a great cozy little…”
“You know what Robby you have been low key putting down and dare I say hating on every aspect of my place! And you always seem to hide it under…” “Melissa, I am not HATING on your apartment! I like it…I do! I’m just saying…” “That…that right there! You’re ALWAYS just saying!” “No…” Robby lied unable to hide his smile or hint of knowing exactly what he was doing.
“Let’s just go get Sandra and Joe, ok? If you were just going to be a downer, why did you come?”
“Maybe when I found out that you asked Steve and Jim for a raise too.” Melissa’s mouth shot open, “I did not! Who told you that?” “I know it happened! You make more money than us and you are never there!” “If I am not there in the morning I come in at night or late afternoon. My schedule is not the same daily! I don’t have the luxury of that with first shift.” “Do you forget that I talk with Second AND First Shift. I know when you are there and not!” “You don’t know my schedule, Robby! You are not my boss! I am your boss! I have to train all these new operators.” “You pass them off to Sandra and me to train! If you were with them, when you say you are with them, then they wouldn’t be calling ME to ask ME what procedure would be!” “You know you guys are all just so ungrateful…so
ungrateful for everything that I do for you all!” Holding up her hand, her face beet red as she stormed her way to the door and left without a backwards glance.
I’m a Super Hater…THE…Sup – Super Hater
A hate that’s greater than 100 web content creators
With a punch of a Karen against a whole group of skaters
Whether it’s a Chad or Ken things can get heated times ten
A superhero that hits different and I just might then
With comments that snap like an ornery gator
And love for this drama creator when I should normally hate her With nothing but this pen and a thirst for revenge
Until next time kiddos when we write our hate to idiots to renewed height Bounding into the sky as my hate carries me to take flight
And there those three idiots go talking that shit off again…no longer my care is for whose in the right I wish to them all a hatred to all and to all the roughest of night THE END
Meth Bear
[Diss Jasper Warden]
By
Robby Richardson
HOW TO CREATE A MONSTER
Silence, it was pure silence, a blissful almost euphoric call from silent trees. The peaceful sway of the trees with the easternly winds lightly kissing against them. They waved in a soft kiss of a slight fog. Beginning to thicken as it hung deep within the shadiest parts of the overlaying branches and jagged crevices of the hilly valleys. The sound of birds twittering in the distance with a distant hawk screeching for an easy meal. The loud SNAP and CRASH of a tree falling somewhere in the distance.
The mystery of what lay within the furthest depths of the forest overwhelmed everything. Salmon-Challis National Forest was a sea of endless green, endless forest, endless mountains, endless hills, and an endless unknown. The trees passed in an endless stretch unaffected by the passing of time. An endless ecological kingdom of life stretching for the horizon like fingers as far as the eye could see.
In a valley between the largest section of trees lining the hills. The large boulders and rock beds scattered across the mountain’s face like stray hairs on a scraggly beard. A loud howl with a commanding undertone from a lone apex roar shook a few birds into the air. They chattered into a numerous flock darting towards the nearest horizon for safety. Several pebbles tumbled down a slight incline as a muddy boot hit an open rock face directly across the valley. Brod shoulders and a protruding beer belly covered with muddy overalls leaned forward. CRUNCH… the man was eating a potato in one hand and the other ran over his spinach thin facial hair. Studying his layout, he sighed deep in thought glancing through his binoculars. He gazed over the jagged outline of the mountains searching for the slightest bit of movement.
His attention was broken when the man’s identical twin came through a set of bulbous bushes.
Rifle slung over his broad shoulders and built for a defensive line of a football team. His brown ponytail hung behind him whacking him like a horse’s tail. His Miller Light baseball hat tainted from
years of sun and sweat lifted from his head. A greasy hand ran through it as he exclaimed,
“Cephus…Cephus, she’s coming! She’s coming! I saw her, I saw her brood!” Cephus had finished eating his potato as he reached inside his front pocket and removed a tin of tobacco. “You better be right Jasper. We got any kin out here they’re sure going to hear this.” He waved his hand continuing,
“we don’t need them starting to come sniffing around here.”
A snarl of indignation before a spit of tobacco left his mouth. “She as big as we thought?”
Struggling with his footing as the overalls he wore did not provide much flexibility. His hunting rifle swung from his shoulder as he waved his arm for balance. The soft rattling from the several pinned buttons across his chest. Buttons displayed with multiple social justice messages or Rainbow Pride flags. He continued, “oh she the biggest female I’ve seen in these parts!” Cephus spit on the ground again before standing up straighter. “You see the Cub with her…” “I, well…” “The cub Jasper, the reason that we are out here in the forest to begin with. The REASON we’ve been camping the last two days! The days when we should be packing and weighing what Pa is cooking. Lord knows what’s going on back at the farm with Pa running things! Might, I remind you that we have Sydney coming by today.” Jasper made his way up to his brother’s side. “The cubs with her Cephus but just be thankful we at least had good weather. Heard on the wire this morning while you were setting the trap that a storm front is moving in. Weatherman says rain will be sporadic throughout the day from drizzles to downpours. Don’t worry about Pa either Cephus Big Hoss is there with him too.”
Cephus scoffed, “Big Hoss, Big Hoss couldn’t work himself out of the tool shed that old mush head.” Jasper laughed revealing several missing teeth from the back of his mouth. “You staring to sound more and more like Pa each day. How about you tell Big Hoss that?” Cephus ran his muddy hand over his neck and spit his tobacco again. “Well, I…I would, but he wouldn’t get or understand what I’m even saying?” Jasper’s face contorted into a frown, “He understands a lot more than you think. Also, you’re not being very kind or understanding to his feeling nor his condition…” Cephus
rolled his eyes, “Oh give it a rest Jasper! Ever since you’ve been reading them city books you’ve been talking and acting differently. I am starting to not even recognize my own brood when they are standing in front of my very face.” Jasper opened his mouth but closed it when a nearby roar quickly silenced their bickering.
“Did you set the trap like you said you would?” Jasper stood next to his brother as Cephus handed him a pair of binoculars. With a slight winch of indignation, he spit upon the ground. “What did I tell you this morning? I told you to go track down the bear and the cub. What do you think I am standing here for? I’ve done my job hooking up Uncle Beau’s Moonshine. Have you done your job?
Have you spotted the male today?” Jasper shook his head, “must have run off, I guess?” Cephus’s gnarled near boulder hand ran over his face again. “Male like that ain’t going to move this time of year. He would stay by the river, I would think. By the way I left the net by the large evergreen you pointed out.” “Cephus, have you thought about what Uncle Virgil and his brood would do if they found out we were poaching on their land?” “We NEED to poach on their land in order to fulfill the order for the client Axel and Sydney set us up with. Where else are we going to get a brown bear cub?
We can’t pass the job over to them, right? They kin and all that, but it’s OUR contact and OUR
money.” Jasper sighed in an understanding way, “you are right, I know. Although, it’s hard not to think about you know? It goes against the Gathering of Kinfolk. What are we going to say at a Gathering if they ever…” “IF they ask Jasper if they ask. Uncle Virgil and his brood are not the brightest of our kinfolk.” “We are breaking Kinfolk codes and laws set down by our forefathers.
Now, I am inclined to agree they aren’t the smartest Cephus. However, it’s not exactly a secret that a secret doesn’t stay a secret for very long in Clint. Might I remind you that we have three operations.
Three ways we are to protect to sustain the Walker Kinfolk lifestyle in the tater business. Our brood have meth, Uncle Beau’s has the moonshine, Uncle Virgil has the land.”
“Forget the tater and potato business, you and I both know that they both are dead despite Pa’s
instance. The past is the past, money is money, and we need a new revenue.” “But Cephus, it’s still Virgil’s land despite what the Park System calls it.” “It’s Walker land ain’t it? And we kinfolk, right?
And anybody that has a problem with it can meet me and my hatchet! Now will you quit your babblin’? I see the female approaching the entrance to the den, but no sign of the cub or male.” “Oh, Cephus that is not very tolerant of you. I was making a valid point and you just do what you do best.
‘Mandozing’ over my…” “I am tolerating YOU right now, ain’t I?” Jasper gave his toothy smile again, “You supposed to tolerate me. I am your twin after all. We brood ain’t we? Kin over everything right?” Cephus snorted removing his NASCAR baseball cap to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Spitting his tobacco as Jasper asked, “you got the detonator? You just going to wait and hope the mother goes in first?” “I ain’t got a clue Jasper, but you better be quiet or they’re going to hear you.” Jasper unshouldered his rifle as he gazed at the small gorge in front of them. Through a patch of bushes that evidently had taken the pair through the marsh. Brown fur covered in mud and even at a distance, Cephus’s marveled at its size. Withdrawing the detonator from his pocket he whispered “Oh, she’s a beauty Jasper!”
The small handheld detonator clenched in his hand with a finger inching closer to the trigger.
“Give me the god damn binoculars Cephus!” Snatching the pair from his brother with a scowl. Jasper watched as the baby bear followed behind her mother. Climbing the rocks was easy for the massive paws of the mother, but difficult for the cub. “Storm fronts coming in Cephus.” The mother bear continued to gaze back at her cub with a loud snarl filling the air. A snarl of evident frustration at her cub difficulty in the climb to the entrance. The Walker brothers stood rigidly praying their voices did not alert her to their presence.
The mother bear moved between two trees to help her cub up to her. Completely unaware that she was taking her cub into a trap. The cub swatted at her mother’s massive paw before catching it.
The cub scrambled over the small rock face and bounded for the small crevice in the largest rock. The
rickety bushes just above the entrance did little to hide the large distilling mason jars filled with Uncle Beau’s moonshine. The clear distilled liquid sloshed in the glass as the mother bear began to make her way towards the entrance. “Come on mom, you go first…go on!” “What if they both…” “We have to go to plan B?” “Plan B…what the hell is a Plan B?”
“That’s it…” Cephus wrinkled finger clicked the handheld detonator with a metallic CLICK.
BOOM… an explosion that shook the very ground underneath them. A cloud of black smoke billowed into the air as pieces of rock and earth fell from the sky. Jasper removed the hand from his face noticing Cephus was racing down the hill. Without a backwards glance, Cephus was sliding down the mountain with precision. His hand gripping the side of the hill as he made his way towards the explosion. The dirt raked up underneath him as his boots guided him down. Jasper took a deep breath before following his brother down the hill. “Grab the net Jasper…grab the net when you get to that evergreen,” shouted Cephus.
Cephus was already climbing up towards the den’s former entrance. Grabbing at branches and leaves in an almost frantic motion. He tore through them leaving nothing but a trail of destruction in his path. Jasper’s initial worry of losing him was immediately evaporated. “Come on Jasper, we got to get the cub before we lose it!” Cephus’s figure disappeared behind the large trunk of an evergreen.
Rocks were still tumbling down the side of the hill. “Cephus…Cephus, wait…” “Get the net Jasper, get the net, I’ll find the cub! Oh, I hear it!” Jasper scrambled up the hill his rifle getting caught and tangled within the brush.
Hands dug into the dirt as Jasper scrambled to the large evergreen tree that Cephus passed.
“Grab the net he says, grab that net…” Removing the large black net from underneath the overhanging evergreen branches. “JASPER…” Cephus’s voice boomed from up ahead of him. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled nearly losing his hat untangling himself from underneath the large tree. Jasper followed, realizing his brother had left him an easy trackable trail. The bent branches dangled from the impacted
trees and bushes. Jasper saw his brother’s faded blue NASCAR mesh hat and made his way towards him. He stopped dead in his tracks when his brother’s hand gave his chest a loud WACK!
Cephus’s hand placed against Jasper’s chest as his eyes scanned the area. “Shh…” He said softly his attention on every possible location of the cub. Jasper gazed at the once large rock crevice containing the entrance to the bear’s den. His eyes traced every rock, every dust cloud that seemed unable to be dissipated by the air. Clouds of visible dust seemed to seep from the cracks and crevices of the rock pile. The trapped air seemed to be seeping out causing heavy dust to snow over the area.
“Aaarrrr,” the cry of the cub pierced the air. “Listen,” whispered Cephus’s voice. His eyes narrowed as he scanned his sightline tracing every tree and every rock. “Aaarrr,” came the repeated cry from the cub. “It’s there…” bellowed Cephus tearing off one final time. “Wait, Cephus…” “It must have fallen down the hill during the explosion!” Cephus followed the continued cries with Jasper on his heels. “Wait, Cephus the net is dragging and getting tangled in the…” “Keep up,” he bellowed sliding down sending several rocks to tumble down the hillside. “It’s right here,” Jasper nearly collided into his brother’s abrupt stop. Cephus had stopped at a small rock ledge overlooking a small gulley.
“W…we…got it,” Jasper clapped his brother on his shoulder. Cephus’s breathed heavy with a gapping smile across his face. “I…I can’t believe that it worked!” Cephus turned to Jasper, the smile still broad across his face gripping Jasper’s shoulder. “We got it! We got it! We just got 15,000
dollars!” Jasper could not help but return his brother’s smile. Jasper gazed down in the gulley watching the little brown cub trying desperately to climb out. It’s now frantic squeals and groans would pull on even the toughest of hunter’s heart strings. Cephus released his hands and mumbled,
“Hand me the net will ya? We’ll throw it over and put it in the cage by the Razor.”
Jasper watched the helplessly trapped baby cub jumping and clawing at the rock surroundings of its environmental prison. The whimpering pleas of the cub went silent when its tiny head gazed up
at its overlooking captors. Its watery brown eyes gazed at them for a brief second before flicking ever so slightly to the rifle slung over Jasper’s shoulder. The cub watched as Cephus took the matted net from his brother. Sensing its oncoming capture, the cub no bigger than a beagle returned to its frantic clawing at the rock side. It’s crying grew louder as Cephus began to unravel the net as if subconsciously tormenting the cub. “It seems to be favoring that back leg a bit.” Jasper’s observation was ignored as Cephus tossed the net with an almost unnecessary wide cast. The net fell with a soft THUD as it covered the cub. “Alright, Jasper let’s scoop it up and head home!”
One hour later, Cephus had finished the last strap around the large dog cage attached to their Confederate Flag painted RAZAR ATV. A metal sign hanging off the back read, The South Will Rise In The North. The bear cub continued to cry for its mother helplessly pushing at every side of its wire prison. “We’ll have to check that leg when we get back to the cabin. Maybe Pa and Big Hoss can help us lynch it? Must have happened during the explosion. We better not hear any complaints from Axel’s client either.”
Cephus began to chuckle as if the cub’s injury revealed an inside joke between them. Jasper’s face seemed to fall in disappointment towards his brother. However, it was immediately replaced with the faintest smirk when Cephus chuckled, “that’s Uncle Beau’s moonshine! Best moonshine west of the Mississippi!” They both climbed into the RAZAR and began pulling away from the picturesque scenery. The once large opening and secret entrance to the bear’s den slowly began to fade away.
Rocks and debris continued to run down the rock face in sporadic frequency and quantity. As the rock face disappeared from his view, Jasper could swear he heard a roar in the distance. A roar that was unrelated to the Razor’s engine in front of him.
The sun rose higher in the sky as rocks resumed to tumble from the bear’s former entrance. The once pristine carved stone face was now nothing, but a mountain of rocks outlined with bumps and jagged crevices. The never-ending smoke of dust still permeated throughout the air. As if the bowels
of the very Earth were starting to breathe life. Starting to awaken, awaken something that lay dormant inside. The now bent and leaning trees seemed to titter more on their unstable roots. The rockface had become unable to quell the raging internal storm. A boulder wobbled near the caved in entrance. A hawk flying above gave a curious little squawk of curiosity. The hawk circled with the possible hope of seeing a tempting meal hidden beneath the crevices. The wobbling boulder tittered and then fell releasing a light avalanche of stone to scatter down. A roar of utter rage came as a set of bloody and broken claws raked through the rock bed. The large paws pushed, scrapped, clawed, and slashed their way through the depths of the rock pit. Snorting rage as a cut up blood-stained face emerged from the darkness. In her struggle, mother bear’s fur become disfigured and lacerated along her entire length.
Her left eye milky white as her face resembled the deep crevices from her rock prison. She was so desperate to release herself. She squirmed from between the rocks and pressed with her muscular forearms, freeing herself from the rocks.
Immediately springing to her massive paws, she snarled in utter rage. Spit and thick drool dangled from her mouth as she whipped her head in the air. Her bloodied nose flicked fiercely desperate to catch any scent of her lost cub. She snarled, smashing her paws with evident frustration on two rocks underneath her. Blood trickled down her body as she sniffed at the ground making her way down the rock bed. Her brown fur lined with deep gashes all leaking trails of blood to become embedded in her coat. The mother moved with determination as she followed a trail scent. She stopped at a small gulley and with a thunderous roar proclaimed her dissatisfaction at finding her cub gone. The cub’s scent was littered inside the hole, but a new smell seemed to overpower it. It was a scent that more and more of her kind were starting to become too familiar with. With a bloody snarl of rage spitting blood-soaked drool to cover the ground. She glanced at the trail of man. A trail that contained the scent of her missing and kidnapped cub.
A BIGGER SHARE
The Razor ATV hobbled up the dirt path, “home sweet home” exclaimed Cephus. Jasper waved to his twin Jasper before returning his finger to his ear. “Fine Axel, one hour…” Jasper closed his flip phone and turned to his brother. “Axel said that Sydney will be up in an hour. They are waiting on the cargo van from another member. The large metallic dog crate rattled behind them as they rumbled underneath the makeshift wooden archway. A rotted wooden sign dangled by one rusted iron nail scrawled in black paint, Walker Homestead.
The Walker Homestead gave off everything but a home feeling. Scattered junk, rusted vehicles, or farm equipment were scattered across the entire front yard. The small shack had nearly reached the point of dilapidation. The rotted brown tin roof seemed to be sagging from years of neglect. The front patio contained more junk and a random assortment of chairs. The screen door swayed lightly from the air current that ran around the house. Pa’s cooking shack lay several feet away and in dire need of repairs. The metal walls spattered with rust and weathered openings. “Pull up by Pa’s cook house Cephus we can unload there. Try to get the cub as close as we can to the door. Hopefully, Pa won’t give us any guff for helping with the cub. I can switch the cage over to the truck in the meantime.”
The Razor pulled up towards the cook house, “I wonder where Pa and Big Hoss are?” SCREECH…
the Razor had stopped abruptly sending Jasper to lurch forward. “Cephus, what the…” However, Jasper’s words were silent as he saw that Cephus had nearly rear ended a Clint Law Enforcement cruiser. His muddy hands gripped the wheel as his face turned to Jasper. “What the hell is Detective Hawkins doing here?”
Jasper shrugged as he removed himself from the Razor. His eyes traced around Pa’s cook house searching for any signs of activity. “Maybe he thinks he’s supposed to collect his cut from us?”
The small tin chimney of the shack usually bellowing noxious clouds of smoke lie dormant. “Pa…Big Hoss,” cried Cephus as Jasper made his way around the cruiser. The law enforcement emblem emblazoned on the side of the door, Harris County Sheriff’s Office.
The door to the cook house opened with a loud and rusted BANG. The door hit the side of the moderate sized tin shack. Pa exited out the door first clearly emerged in a heated discussion. “I tell you and told you how many times der Detective Hawkins. I can’t give way nothin’ without my brood’s permission. That be Kinfolk law…” Pa’s words were lost when he noticed Cephus and Jasper had returned. Pa’s wobbling face gaped open with a smile as his hand clung to his walking stick. Still emblazoned with a shine the day it was carved from a lodgepole pine along the Big Lost River. A message emblazed in the front whittled down to read the Walker Kinfolk motto. The South Will Rise In The North. The grizzled man with a gray beard down to his knees straightened his coke bottle sized glasses and gave a warm, “well der da are now Detective Hawkins! Good to see my brood back safe and sound.” Detective Hawkins was a thin man in his black polo shirt. His athletic tone seemingly exemplified underneath. He flexed his muscles in a display of annoyance as his hand moved to the toothpick in his mouth. “Finally,” he said slamming the metal door behind him. “Eh,” snarled Pa in displeasure adding from his toothless mouth. “Slamming my door acting like you live here Detective…”
Pa moved down the dirt path as small white bugs buzzed between the tall blades of grass.
“Cephus…Jasper, he gunna knock my God damn shed down! God damn fools gunna blow up our god dern house!” Detective Hawkins ignored him as he straightened his large paintbrush black mustache.
Pushing past Pa as if cutting him off for a cashier at the supermarket. “I would ask where you two have been, but I guess I don’t have to.” His eyes flashed between Cephus and Jasper as he removed his dark sunglasses. “You know I can’t allow you two to be in possession of a creature like that? Where’s its mother?” “We found it,” replied Cephus with an intimating cross of his arms. “Found it…found it…”
He repeated with a disbelieving smile. His eyes flicked to Cephus crossed arms and defiant gaze.
“You trying to intimidate me…threaten me? Don’t forget Cephus…both…no, all three of you never forget what I know nor what I could do.” Cephus smiled with a little snort, “you should heed your own advice my friend.”
Detective Hawkins stared at the bear cub in the cage. He seemed internally conflicted as he fingered his sunglasses habitually. “What are you even doing out here Jayson?” Jasper’s question seemed to redirect Detective Hawkin’s attention back to them. He stared at them both, almost complexed by everything. “It’s Detective…Detective Hawkins, and I’ve come to collect my share.”
“Share, what share? You should have gotten your share from Sydney or Axel when they sold our last batch.” “Well, Cephus Sheriff Hanson and the residents are starting to notice the increase in your clientele’s visiting frequency. It’s getting harder and harder for me to look the other way. Not to mention all the rowdiness and ruckus The Satan’s Outlawz are displaying in town. They have practically taken over The Wagon Wheel!”
Cephus began jabbing his finger in Detective Hawkins chest, “Sydney have not come to collect their new order. So, there is no cut…and if you continue to WANT a cut you will tolerate them for as long as they are paying you! You forget my friend law don’t go or have say round here. This Kinfolk territory no matter what yer government say so!” “You threatening me Cephus? You threatening a detective? A detective with the Clint Sherrif’s Department? The LEAD detective in collecting evidence for prosecution against the Walker Kinfolk?” Boots began to dig into the dirt as Detective Hawkins began to assert his authority. Hands pulled at his belt as he seemed to straighten his thin frame. His face read an underlying hidden desire to cause an altercation. “One word and I can bring the Idaho State Police down here? You think your Walker Kinfolk and all your brood would stand even the slightest chance?” “Then go to Sydney or even Axel if you are upset about your cut! It’s The Satan’s Outlawz that pay you…not us!” Detective Hawkins stared into Cephus’s glaring eyes and
flicked his toothpick with a twirl. “You are not hearing me. I need a new share from you two. I need a cut from you. You got money Cephus don’t you be shitting me now! I know you got it somewhere round here. Buried in some dirt hole, or in the glove box of some rust bucket on your property. You got Remington back there cooking in his shack. I have seen the weight piled up back there. I know you got something! You expect me to turn a blind eye to everything?”
Cephus returned his scathing look, “As I have already told you. We haven’t even FINISHED
the next batch to sell to The Satan’s Outlawz! They are supposed to be coming by later today to pick it up. I will talk to them and let them address your concerns. In the meantime, we do not have any extra money to give you.” The dark clouds above them gave a distant but warning little rumble of thunder.
Jayson returned the sunglasses to his face as he watched the baby bear cub teething the wires.
Nose stuck through the spaces between the wires desperate to chew its way out. “Can I ask you something Detective Hawkins? What makes you think you are entitled to something extra? Our kin Colt told us that the Sheriff’s department has already gotten defunded? He also informed me that your investigation budget has been slashed.” Detective Hawkins turned to Jasper, “All the more reason I need a cut from you boys too! You boys and your Kinfolk are more trouble than you are worth!
Speaking of which, do you both have any permission…license…authorization or a permit from the Clint Council or any agency before you caught your little friend there?” “It’s none of your business,”
snapped Cephus just as Jasper replied, “Don’t need permission when you kin!”
Detective Hawkins snorted at Jasper with clear skepticism and disbelief, “Thought so…” The seconds ticked by in silence as the three stared daggers at each other. Breaking the silence, he gave an arrogant smirk and tossed his toothpick to the ground. “So, starting today, I need a 10 percent cut from every sale you do from now…ANY sale.” Thrusting his finger at the bear cub, “that includes your new business ventures. Fail to do this and I promise you I will not be looking the other way.” “And what would happen Jayson if I told the state police or your government that you serve about our little
arrangement.” “You think they would believe you? You and your Kinfolk are nothing but hillbilly trash. A shit stain on the city of Clint, this county, and the surrounding counties.” “Way, I heard might not even be a city of Clint for long. And that shit stain that you’re talking about is my Kinfolk…my family! Don’t you ever forget who REALLY runs the area, Jayson.” Detective Hawkins reached into his pocket and removed a new toothpick. An arrogant smirk crossed his face again as he stared into Cephus’s eyes and fearless face. “You want to test that? Now, I want your cut by the end of the day.
Lord knows you don’t want to get trapped up here when the storm hits, and the road floods or washes away.”
CH-CH-CHING, CLINK… Detective Hawkins removed his car keys from his pocket with a jingle. “I’m not kidding Jasper…Cephus! We got a good thing going…all three of us!
You…me…and the Satan’s Outlawz…and what I’m asking for is reasonable.” “And what if we are unable to make your little deadline by the end of day Jayson?” “I’ll have Animal Control up here so fast for your little friend it will make your head spin!” “It would be gone by the time they made it to the other side of Rock Ridge Falls!” Detective Hawkins scoffed as he opened his car door with a metallic CREAK. “Don’t be stupid Cephus, pay me what I am due, and everything goes back to normal.” Cephus glanced up to the sky, “what if we have a Gathering tonight? I can’t exactly head into town, sell the bear cub, go to a Walker Gathering…” “We both know Cephus that your Uncle Virgil, Uncle Beau, and your dear Ol’ Pa over there aren’t going to call a Gathering with this weather coming in.”
Cephus shook his head as Jasper snorted, “you're nothing but a greedy, opportunistic, oppressive…fascist!” Detective Hawkins ignored him straightening the sunglasses on his face. “Ten percent or the entire Walker Kinfolk is done. You should never forget what I am supposed to be doing, who I represent, and what they are a capable of doing.” BAM…BAM… BAM… All three of them turned their heads towards Pa. Standing on their disintegrating wooden patio situated between the two
railings. Pa’s walking stick held tightly in the palm of his hands. The wooden stick nearly pushed through the rotted wood floorboards. Pa seemed to tremble in a building rage suppressed by a forced calm. His white beard trembled on his face as he gave a malevolent little glower at Detective Hawkins.
“You ought to heed your own words der’ Detective Hawkins. I ain’t gun low you talk to my brood like that. You remember something and remember it well now. You’re on my land…Walker land…land bought by our great, great grand pappy to start the largest potato farm out here…”
Detective Hawkins waved his hand, “yeah, yeah, Grandpa Walker I’ve heard this a million times before.” With those final words, Detective Hawkins returned to his vehicle flashing his lights once before the engine roared to life. All three of the Walkers watched him circle the area and pass them. Each set of eyes he passed was more warning and threatening than the last. The Detective’s car drove underneath the wooden archway and rumbled down the dirt path taking the journey to the main road back into Clint. All three stood in utter silence for several seconds until it disappeared into the thick vegetation of the forest. Pa broke the silence like a gunshot. “God damn it, where’s Big Hoss when you need him? I swear that boy is never around when you need him! Big Hoss could and would’ve knocked his block off.” Their eyes never left the dirt road until the faint rumblings of Detective Hawkins vehicle were swallowed up by the sounds of the increasing swaying trees.
Cephus turned back to Jasper who had already made his way over to Pa who continued to gaze down the road. His mouth making slight chewing motions as if expecting Detective Hawkins to make a surprise return. “What was that all about?” Jasper’s question seemed to redirect Pa’s attention.
Hands still clutching his wooden walking stick. Thrusting it at the road, “was cooking for you boys while you were both taking your lover’s vacation in the forest. Law came up here looking for ya’ll.
Thank the good Lord you boys showed up when you did!” “Where’s Big Hoss? Why wasn’t he here looking out for you?” “That big ol’ slow mush head was bothering me, Jasper! I sent that boy out to go chop wood in the clearing and bring some back for the fire tonight.”
“Pa it’s very insensitive to talk about Hoss like…” “I take it you boys had no issues in capturing the cub for that client that boy Axel set you up with?” Jasper’s face fell at being ignored.
Cephus snorted, “Uncle Beau’s moonshine works every time!” Pa gave off a chortle that sounded more like a dying bird. “Sure does, I can’t even have my smokes when drinking that stuff! ‘Fraid I’m going to explode or something. Now, you boys sure you captured that cub real quiet like? Lord knows I don’t need your Uncle Virgil and his brood coming up here talking about violations and infractions of the Kinfolk code for poaching on his land. Last thing we need is a God damn Gathering called these next few days.” Picking up his walking stick he began thrusting it at both Cephus and Jasper. “And I don’t want to be sitting in the rain defending you two knuckleheads from all our kin! Wouldn’t have let you go in the first place if it hadn’t been for them two weaseling me out of my portion of Aunt Tilly’s inheritance.”
Jasper took a seat upon the banister which dangerously wobbled the roof. “No Pa, Cephus and I were real quiet like. Uncle Virgil and his brood will never find out. I heard dem fumes are making Uncle Virgil and Beau stupider than a racoon in the heat.” “Watch dat dern railing their boy! God damn…gunna bring the whole roof down on us.” Jasper gave a sheepish little look removing his Bud Light hat with a simple, “yes Pa.”
Pa’s legendary stare was known throughout the Kinfolk. A legend that was capable of staring down black bears back in the old days. He straightened his spectacles with a trembling hand, a clear sign of his age. “Cub looks injured. You better sling that leg a bit. It will stop him from favoring it so much. No good to you or your client dead. You both got the time?” Cephus nodded, “yeah, but from what I heard from Axel the client is annoying, but the money is legit.” Pa leaned over and began rubbing his right knee as Cephus continued, “supposed to be some kind of music entertainer. I don’t know, but it’s lucky we caught him today. Considering it was the last day we would be able to since he is coming in today for pick up. That could have gotten ugly.” Pa gazed up from his knee evidently
unaware of what Cephus had said. “Storm’s coming in fast, best get going if you want to beat it. The old knee is actin’ up again.” Jasper glanced at the cub who had grown tired from its tireless struggle.
It’s tiny stomach rising and falling rapidly, “cubs going to need water and food too boys.”
Pa rose from his seat waving his walking stick, “na, na, na boy I got it! Jasper you go down there and check on Big Hoss. Good Lord, I sent that boy down there over an hour ago just to get some quiet from him.” “You finish the cook, Pa?” Pa’s eyes turned to Cephus as he straightened his glasses again as if trying to see him correctly. The cold glower in his face was always a sign that something was about to erupt. “Course, I been God damn cooking! What are you stupid? Good lord, I got one mush head down there in the clearing chopping wood! I got a block head right here! And I got this fool right here with that God damn city speak! He don’t even know if he’s a girl, boy, or thing! What do you think I’ve been doing until Detective…” “Ok Pa I’m sorry. I was just asking because Sydney is coming by to pick it up today.”
Pa rose from his chair hands gripped around his walking stick. “You tell me not to worry.
Now, we got law showing up around here and the Kinfolk don’t like when law come on our land. I told you…BOTH…you are doing too much…selling too much to that little group of yours! You got me in there cooking double…double! And don’t tell me dat tat is all for that friend Sydney of yours!”
“If you just taught us how to do a couple steps…” “Boy your lucky you can put pants on in the morning! I’m reminding you now that when I’m gone my recipe is gone and this little operation you both have going on is done.” Jasper began to laugh nearly toppling from his seat on the railing. “What are you cackling over there for Jasper? I don’t know what you think is so funny. You’re so stupid you can’t even tell me what a God damn woman is!” “I can Pa you just don’t like the definition.” Pa’s lower jaw fell glowering at his son and asked simply, “what is a woman then boy?”
Jasper hesitated, sensing a fight when he answered his father’s question. Pa’s eyes widened evidently waiting for his response. “You need to understand Pa that the world is changing, people are
changing, and the times are changing. Words are changing and evolving. We can either evolve with it or revert back into western colonial bigotry. Woman or womanhood is an umbrella term to be more inclusive to not just biological woman, but people who IDENTIFY as woman or female…” “You’re an idiot! You fool even a dog can tell the difference between a male and a female. Pigs can to and they roll around in their own crap don’t they?” “Words evolve and language changes Pa. We’ve grown beyond the oppressive social constructs and constrictions of gender.” “Boy if both your brain cells had value, they would be worthless. Despite the fact that one is lost and the other is out looking for it! Now if you’re done growing stupider by the minute. I will go take care of that their bear cub.
Now can you two Dunder Heads do something useful?” Cephus ran his hand over his scraggly beard and said, “I’m going to weigh the product and prepare it for Sydney.” Jasper chuckled, “You do that I’ll call Axel’s client about the cub and set up the drop at Silas & Mooch’s Maintenance Garage by Rock Ridge Falls.”
The wind began to pick up as the tall trees began to sway around them. Sway as if sending an early warning of the impeding storm on the horizon. Thunder could be heard lightly again in the distance as rain drizzled over them. Pa walked over to the pull trailer as the bear cub rose back to its feet. It’s time to recover had finished recovering a bit of its spark. Still favoring its back leg as Pa approached “it’s okay there little one. Pa will take care’e ya! You’ll be walking again in no time my friend! But first we are going to need to sedate ya.”
Pa’s head whipped around from the rattling wired cage. His beard wisping around his small and frail frame. “Now if you boys are done making out with each other how about you do something useful? Whatever you’re calling yourself you think you can go down and help your mush head of a younger brother stack that wood like I asked. Boy can chop wood like Paul Bunyan just can’t figure out how to stack it.” Jasper picked up his ringing phone as Pa turned to Cephus. “Waterhead, you go and get that product taken care of. I would like it done without any backtalk or lip either! Lord knows
with our luck Sheriff Hanson come right up that their dirt road and get everything he needs to dismantle this Kinfolk operation. Lord give me the strength…and you!” SMACK… Pa’s walking stick cracked across Cephus’s hand with the strike of a snake. Cephus’s potato fell to the ground with a soft THUD!
“I told you stop eating potatoes like that! They ain’t God damn apples! Boy, I know I didn’t drop you on your head! Ma probably did behind my back Lord rest her soul!”
Pa continued to mutter to himself as he turned back to the bear cub’s cage. Jasper returned to Cephus with a look of evident irritation. Nursing his throbbing knuckles Cephus massaged them,
“What’s the matter Jasper?” “That was Axel on the phone. He said that Detective Hawkins had to lock up Sydney just now for something. He has to go bail him out and the weather is getting bad down there.” The tiny cub behind them continued to cry helplessly from its wired prison as Cephus grumbled back, “means storm will be here soon.” “He said that a trustworthy patch would be coming by to pick it up.” “Pa ain’t going to like that Jasper! Did he say who?” “Yeah, a lion…”
THE DEAL
The small farming town of Clint at one time was Idaho’s most profitable farming community.
What was once, a thriving community had now been confined to one main road conveniently named, Main St. Main St. stretched a little less than a quarter of a mile. Each side lined with the only remaining stores and shops that seemingly could survive with a dwindling population. The Clint Sheriff’s office was once staffed by over forty officers and shrunk to a still dwindling half dozen.
Randomly scattered cars lined the front of the few remaining stores. The few people in town waved from the sidewalk at Detective Hawkins passing patrol car. Detective Hawkins would always give an acknowledging little nod heading towards the station. He arrived at one of the only two stop lights on Main St. His patrol car, the oldest of the fleet gave a loud, SCREECH from the brakes. He turned his head to gaze at one of the only two businesses that seemed to keep a profit. The local motel named the Pinewood Motel served as a constant reminder of the hidden underbelly of Clint. Built during World War II and renovated only once after the Vietnam war, the Pinewood Motel had fallen into neglect. The faded sign containing an emblem of two pine trees did not seem to deter the only consistent clientele, The Satan’s Outlawz Motorcycle Club.
The motorcycle club seemed to return to the small community quarterly, always growing in numbers with each visit. An altercation with the Clint Sheriff’s Department always loomed on verge of breaking out. Detective Hawkins turned his head from the Pinewood Motel to see the only other profitable business. The Wagon Wheel Saloon was the first and only bar in the city of Clint. The split double doors were shaped to resemble a large wagon wheel. The local motto being “Roll Your Way To A Good Time.” The small bar with its many neon beer signs flickered in the front window overlooking a row of motorcycles. A crowd of club members littered out the front and around the
sidewalk. They were encroaching onto Main Street, blocking nearly half the road.
Each club member that glared in his direction was sure to have a criminal background. The fun and laughter had seemingly popped like a balloon. Every eye was on Detective Hawkins as they glowered behind menacing scowls. One of the members parted his best revealing a shirt reading “Our Law IS Law”. Clint Law Enforcement was not popular with the 1% motorcycle clubs. They were the last of a dying kind of people, the true outlaws.
The light turned green as Detective Hawkins prepared to move forward. His mind counting how many bodies lined the front of the saloon. His eyes turned back to the road losing count after seven and then SCREECH! His patrol car came to an immediate halt. He had nearly run into a jaywalking club member. Detective Hawkins felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He had not expected to run into this man and certainly not like this.
His ponytail whirled around him as he slammed both his hands with a loud THUD! The beer can in his hand nearly exploded into the air foaming over his hand onto the hood. His wild eyes rested on Detective Hawkins and soon they turned into an almost mocking little glare. “Detective Hawkins…” he said with a sneering little jeer. Straightening up the club member took his beer and flipped it over pouring the remaining contents over the ancient patrol vehicle. The golden liquid ran over the rusting white paint trickling into the grill. The club member shook it determined to get every drop onto the hood. He dropped the can where it hit with a light TINK before clattering to the ground.
Unable to contain his rage, Detective Hawkins removed his seatbelt and opened the door with force. He stood hitching up his belt preparing to move around his patrol car. Hand gripped tightly over his holster as he watched the member’s mocking demeanor blow out. He had clearly not expected the Detective to react. His eyes narrowed, “problem Detective?” He sneered with a little threatening mutter. The onlooking crowd around the saloon began moving closer to the scene. “You’re going to
find nothing but problems here. If I were you Detective I would best be moving along back to the station.” Detective Hawkin’s rage began to evaporate, realizing the situation that he was putting himself in. He gripped the toothpick in his mouth as his eyes followed each member. A few of the club members waved their hands repeating the message, “move on…best move along!”
“Looks like you found trouble my friend,” unable to contain his silent rage. “I am the law here in Clint!” “You are nothing…nothing! I suggest you move along and go back to the piggy pen past Rock Ridge Falls. I sit at the table now and…” However, the club member didn’t need to finish.
Detective Hawkins with a look of utter defiance of his true intent huffed once before returning to his vehicle. The toothpick in his mouth shifted in annoyance from one side to another. The blond-haired club member gave a wide smile behind his unshaven face. “That’s right…” he exclaimed with a mocking grin stretching from ear to ear.
He moved to the side as Detective Hawkins’s patrol vehicle shifted and began pulling forward.
CLINK… The metal heel of the man’s cowboy boots collided with the side of the vehicle, “Go on now…go on get out here! Farmer Fred needs to know where all his pigs have run off to!” Detective Hawkins groaned almost as loudly as the tires driving to the station. Softly cursing under his breath, he let out another groan that spilled the toothpick from his mouth. His eyes rose to see Sheriff Fred Hanson pull behind him. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror as he shrunk under the stern stone glare. Sheriff Hanson motioned with a single finger and thrust of his thumb to pull over, “shit!”
Detective Hawkins’s reached into his cup holder and removed a new toothpick shifting it to the side of his mouth.
He pulled over with a sigh his mind racing a mile a minute, “Good Ol’ Hands on Hanson!” He opened the car door preparing to speak to his boss with an obvious false smile. “Sheriff, hey how are you doing?” The sky rumbled above them as rain began to drizzle over them. “Detective…” Sheriff Hanson said standing straight as if nothing, but a breeze was dancing on his face. His face sagged like
wax melting under a hot flame. He glared daggers, “Detective, I need to ask what you think you’re doing?” Detective Hawkins gave a faltering, “I don’t know what you…" “I’m talking about what the HELL do you think you are doing? You just let a man damage and disrespect a taxpayer vehicle and law enforcement officer. Not to mention what it represents for this community and its citizens!”
Detective Hawkins began to stammer under Sheriff Hanson’s degrading stare behind his drooping eyelids, “W-well that guy was my brother-in-law sir. Also, I-I-I was outnumbered. Those were The Satan’s Outlawz. They’re a one percenter motorcycle club and…” “Detective, I don’t care if its family, Jesus Christ, or Muhammad standing there threatening you with eternal damnation! How dare you walk away! How dare you wear that uniform and call yourself a law enforcement officer and on my WATCH! We are STILL and will ALWAYS be the law in this town! We WILL have order and safety for the good people of Clint.” Despite his age and veteran status Old Sheriff Hanson lived by his reelection campaign slogan, “Hands on Hanson”.
Sheriff Hanson continued to glare down at his detective with disdain. A questioning face that was evidently considering his continued employment with Clint Law Enforcement. “Detective you will go back to The Wagon Wheel Saloon and arrest your brother-in-law that you were afraid to confront. Yes, detective I said AFRAID after the exchange that I just witnessed between the two of you. I don’t care how outnumbered you are. You do what any detective…any NORMAL detective would do when confronted with the situation you were put in. Call for back up and represent Clint Law Enforcement.”
Detective Hawkins gave a little gulp continuing to remain silent. The finality in Sheriff Hanson’s stern voice seemed to shrink him like a student being scolded by a teacher. However, the cold sweat that seemed to come over him as the Sheriff adjusted his belt. “You won’t have to worry though Detective Hawkins because I will PERSONALLY accompany you and assist if you are that scared.” Mouth opening as if trying to retort but falling quiet as the sheriff continued. “After you
arrest that club member and bring him to lock up at the station. I want you to report to my office at your earliest convenience...and I do mean earliest. I think you are well overdue for a performance and job evaluation. We can also discuss your future career with Clint Law Enforcement. Now muster your courage should you have any and follow me back to The Wagon Wheel Saloon.”
Sheriff Hanson gave one final look of dismissal straightening his white Rancher Hat. He turned and with an almost taunting, “Am I following you or are you following me?” Detective Hawkins gave a soft sigh to himself replying with the answer he knew Sheriff Hanson wanted to hear. “That is unnecessary sir. I can go back and handle the incident myself.” Sherriff Hanson stopped in his tracks with his hands resting on his ajar car door. “Detective Hawkins if you could handle it by yourself, we wouldn’t even being having this conversation.” “Sh-sheriff I…” Detective Hawkins began to stammer but Sherriff Hanson held up his weathered hand and gave a mocking wave. “No, no Detective Hawkins you seem to require assistance and being your boss, I will help you in this matter.” With that Sheriff Hanson gave a disappointed little look as he entered his vehicle before Detective Hawkins had even registered what had transpired.
Red and blue lights flashed as Detective Hawkins pulled up first to the saloon with the Sheriff behind him. PING, PING, PING, rain began to patter against the windows. The small crowd of club members had diminished in numbers slightly. However, the small eruption of protesting and snide comments could be heard immediately.
Breathing heavy in a growing panic, Detective Hawkins realized what was about to transpire.
The increasing anxiety began to tremble his hands over the stirring wheel. Taking a deep breath, he removed himself from his patrol vehicle as the drizzling rain began to increase in intensity. “Oh, look who’s returned brothers!” He saw the blonde ponytailed club member chortling at him. A new beer in his hand as he waved it wildly spilling some of it over the sidewalk. “You…come here…” said Detective Hawkins as he locked eyes on the member. The mocking club member’s eyes widened
evidently surprised that he was being addressed.
The surprised look turned immediately to a stern face of defiance. Detective Hawkins ordered again, “I need you to come here now!” The club member crossed his arms as if daring the detective to come and take him. “I don’t recognize your laws or any law enforcement.” BAM… Sheriff Hanson’s door slammed with an almost thunderous crash. “Is there a problem Detective Hawkins?” Sheriff Hanson moved towards the detective straightening his white Rancher Hat with his Bloodhound face investigating every person. The club members’ stern faces faltered slightly under the sheriff’s penetrating stare. Toothpick shifted in his mouth as Detective Hawkins waved his hand, “Everyone else needs to move along or head on inside the saloon.”
Detective Hawkins’s eyes followed the patched members begrudgingly enter through the double wagon wheel doors. His eyes temporarily mesmerized by the patches the club members wore on the back of their dark vests. A pitchfork with a red bandanna draped between the outside prongs reading, The Satan’s Outlawz. Rain began to fall harder as Detective Hawkins made his way towards the gloating man. “Driver’s license…” he barked as the club member eyed him unsure of the sincerity or possible ruse in his request. He hesitated flicking his eyes towards the sheriff patrolling around him.
The club member’s bulldog like stare of aggression did not seem to be working in backing down the officers. With a soft groan of exasperation and a quick eye roll he removed his wallet from his back pocket and handed him the license. He glared at Detective Hawkins with a, “Do you realize what you are doing? Who I am and the problems this is going to cause?” Detective Hawkins tried to keep his voice steady and firm examining the license, “Sydney…Tiller?”
Eyes flicking up to meet Sydney’s who responded with a wide eye look. “You know who I am Jayson! I’m only your God damn brother-in-law! I only grew up with you and Fred in this shit hole town.” “That’s Sheriff Hanson to you Sydney…Sheriff…Hanson.” Sydney’s face turned into a scowl
as he muttered, “You’ve been sheriff of this town for the last fifteen years. Would you like to see my club membership card too Jayson?” Despite the bribes and payoffs that he had received from Sydney and The Satan’s Outlawz, it did not allow him to be walked over. He was paid to look the other way at the activities of the motorcycle club. Sydney always seemed to make that a challenge being the cause of his own problems. “No, Sydney that will not be necessary.” Detective Hawkins replied simply handing him back his driver’s license.
He raised his head, “Do you know why I asked you for you…” “To save face in front Sheriff Handsy there,” Sydney interjected cutting him off. His cold blue eyes flicked to the sheriff who had begun writing parking violation tickets for every motorcycle in front of The Wagon Wheel Saloon.
Sydney realized what the sheriff was doing and said, “Hey what do you think you’re…” Cutting him off as he had done to him, “Never you mind what the sheriff is doing Sydney, never you mind. I need you to turn around and put your hands around your back.”
Sydney glared at Detective Hawkins defiance clear on his face. The seconds ticked by as Sydney insubordination was emphasized by his bewildered look at the brazen actions of the Detective.
“Turn around Sydney and put your hands behind your back.” He repeated the instructions as Sheriff Hanson slapped the final yellow ticket on what appeared to be the oldest of the motorcycles. He gave a gruff little smirk in admiration of his work. Hearing the defiant Sydney he replied, “You heard the detective boy! Now, turn around and put your hands behind your head!” “You’re…you’re locking me up? You’re really going to lock me up?” Detective Hawkins grabbed Sydney’s shoulder and forcefully began spinning him around. “You…you can’t be serious Jayson? No, no, you can’t be serious. We’re family!” Detective Hawkins slammed Sydney up against the rotting wood of the bar.
“It’s detective Sydney Tiller Detective Hawkins! You are under arrest for vandalizing government property, intimidation of a Clint Law Enforcement officer, and resisting arrest.”
“RESISTING ARREST…” Sydney’s shouting voice seemed to carry down Main Street despite
the falling rain. “You’re arresting me right now! How can I be resisting when you are arresting me right now?” CLICK…CLICK, the handcuffs were slapped around Sydney’s wrist tightly. “You can’t arrest me for intimidation of a Clint Law Enforcement officer! Look Jayson if this is about your pride I won’t…” Detective Hawkins began to pat him down and pulled out with a surprised exclamation, “and I am apparently arresting you for possession of a concealed and illegal firearm.” “It’s not illegal you pig! I have the paperwork for it and…” Pulling Sydney off the wall, “We do not permit conceal carry in the town of Clint Sydney! Or did you forget that during your life on the road?”
Sydney began to struggle against Detective Hawkins hands, “let me go…let me go…get your hands off of me!” Soon, the protests of Sydney were drowned by the protests of his fellow club members emerging from the saloon. The various and vulgar complaints were drowned in a sea of commotion ready to turn into a riot. Club members were displaying their opposition to Sydney’s arrest with vulgar hand and arm gestures. Detective Hawkins grabbed Sydney by the back of his leather vest and led him towards his patrol car. The rabbling crowd was inaudible in Detective Hawkins’s ear as he tried to force him into the backseat. However instead of resisting Sydney began smiling at his fellow club members egging them on.
CRASH… A glass bottle had been thrown at the patrol car smashing over the street. The green shards littered the crumbling road mixing with the disintegrating asphalt. CRASH… Another glass bottle smashed and then SMACK! A full beer can collided with the back window of the patrol vehicle.
An amber colored liquid ran down the back window spilling over the top of the trunk. The crowd of club members grew more riotous as Detective Hawkins slammed the door to the back seat closed with a CRASH!
He turned back to the crowd holding up his hands as if trying to bring sanity to the crowd.
THUD… Another beer can had been hurled smacking against his outstretched hand. Another amber colored liquid exploded over him as voice yelled, “Don’t arrest Sydney we need to that pig!” Detective
Hawkins had to return to his car scurrying like a dog with his tail between his legs. Sheriff Hanson had already returned to his patrol car heading back to the station without a backwards glance. Detective Hawkins gave one final look of utter resentment as a voice yelled, “Don’t worry Sydney I’ll let Axel know right away! We’ll have you out in no time brother!” Detective Hawkins pulled away under a renewed barrage of beer bottles, cans, and rocks.
The shouts of angry protests quickly died behind them. The vehicle eventually returned to normal speed as the faded sign for the Clint Sheriff’s station came into view. “Rock Ridge Falls,”
came the muttered voice from behind the caged backseat. “Quiet Sydney, Sheriff station’s just up ahead.” Despite Detective Hawkins’s annoyance at his prisoner his eyes flicked up to his rearview mirror. Sydney was gazing out the window as they passed Silas & Mooch’s Maintenance Garage.
Detective Hawkins was only able to catch a glance of what ensnared his attention. “Rock Ridge Falls…” Sydney motioned towards the falls as his eyes longed out the window to see them.
“You know Jayson most of you forgot that I grew up in this town.” Detective Hawkins’s eyes gazed up to the rearview mirror. “I didn’t forget. The Sydney that this town knew is long gone. Ann and Hank’s football star son now lost in drugs, crime, extortion, and his motorcycle gang.” Sydney smirked with a little laugh, “I took my first girlfriend there. I lost my virginity the night I became Captain of the team. She was the head cheerleader Becky Lynn.” “Becky Lynn,” repeated Detective Hawkins as Sydney continued to smirk out the window. “Yeah Becky Lynn,” he repeated with a longing cling to a memory. “Did you ever take my sister?”
The rain fell heavily against the window spattering over the front. The lack of visibility slowed the vehicle to a crawl as the wipers struggled to keep up. “No,” Detective Hawkins replied as Sydney continued as if uninterrupted. “I nearly got caught by old man Silas the night I became Captain. He was just coming back from walking Mooch. That old Bloodhound of his…you ever take anybody to Rock Ride Fall? I wonder whatever happened to them.” With both hands gripping the steering wheel,
Detective Hawkins tried desperately to safely arrive at the station. “Isn’t that Clint tradition Sydney? I thought every resident knew that. Besides after Mooch died so did Silas and their maintenance garage.”
The patrol vehicle turned hitting the entrance to the station with a rocky BUMP! Both occupants rumbled in their spots as the vehicle rolled around towards the rear entrance. A large chain-link fenced enclosure met them with several dog houses littered within. An eruption of barking as the vehicle rumbled around the powerline poles. The wind beginning to increase as the vehicle pulled slowly near the rear entrance. The nearly shredded brown awning hanging over the rear entrance flapped wildly under the heavy rain and intensifying wind.
“Now that we’re here you can just let me out. I can just walk back to The Wagon Wheel.”
Sydney sat up as the vehicle came to a stop. Detective Hawkins shook his head, “I can’t Sydney, not this time. I got to bring you in.” The once sure smile faltered on Sydney’s once youthful face. “But I have to go pick up the month’s supply from the Walker brothers. That supply is the only reason why we are all here in the first place.” Detective Hawkins turned back towards the station. Loud barking and howling immediately cut him off. The dogs of Clint’s K-9 Brigade had erupted in explosive barking upon their arrival. “I can’t Sydney! The Sheriff knows that we are family and is growing more suspicious by the day.” “He doesn’t know anything the old Bloodhound. Maybe even you have forgotten what I know?” “I never forget Sydney. I regret the day that you came into the saloon…convinced me to look the other way.” “You didn’t have to Jayson! Now, why are you really arresting me? Why are you going to lock me up?”
CREAK… The rear door to the station opened as Detective Hawkins turned to face Sydney.
“Maybe if you didn’t act like an IDIOT and do something STUPID in front of the SHERIFF? Now shut up, Denver is coming out and looking this…” “You think I care that there’s another officer? You think I CARE about that washed up over the hill Clint Eastwood looking motherfucker?” Fellow
officer Denver was a breath away from retirement. His chiseled face scowled at the ancient patrol car before turning to the K-9 enclosure. Hand removed the habitual chewed cigar from his mouth as he yelled in a bellow of white-hot rage “SHUT UP YOU GOD DAMN MUTS!”
Detective Hawkins opened his door with an angry scowl. The rain immediately began to drench him as he pulled out a complaining Sydney. “Will you shut up Sydney? I understand we have a deal, but you don’t seem to understand.” Slamming the door with a loud BANG, he gripped his shoulders roughly. “I’ll be lucky…LUCKY, if I keep my job after today.” Leading him towards the back door passing the large holding kennel for the dogs. All six dogs pressed themselves up to the chain link fence snarling into it. Completely oblivious or unconcerned with the downpour of rain.
“You good there Hawkins…” Denver growled chewing on his cigar. “Yeah, I’m just bringing this punk here to lock up. What’re you up to?” Realizing the error in his question he saw Denver’s chiseled face wrinkle into a scowl that could make the most stubborn mule move. His eyes squinted as if he was preparing to audition for a Western film. “Same damn thing I’ve been doing since last year!”
“You are retiring in a month or two. You have quite possibly the easiest job in all of Clint! All you have to do is sit back and make sure the dogs are ready whenever Sheriff Hanson needs or requests them.”
“You want to sit out here sun, snow…RAIN! Stand out here and take care of these ungrateful little mutts! Yeah, I’m talking to you!” BANG… Denver kicked the chain link fence making it rattle all down its length. Removing the soggy and disintegrating cigar from his mouth and pointing towards the dogs. “Especially that one…that one right there!” Denver pointed at the Rottweiler in the middle with soulless dark eyes glaring up at them both. Thick drool ran down her jowls as she snarled at them all. “Pepper?” “Yeah…Pepper…” He said with such a disgruntled scowl. Pepper seemed to have understood that Denver was talking about her. Her barking intensified, becoming more ferocious slamming her body into the chain link fence.
“She’s the Alpha of the pack and head bitch! Yeah, I’m talking about you Pepper! I got one more month of dealing with you all, that’s it! I should have turned her into sausage a year ago. You know she’s the one that bite me, right?” Denver said the pulp from his cigar oozing down the corners of his mouth. They seemed to disappear into his heavily unshaven face. “Yes, Devin I know she bit you, everybody knows she bit you. Can I go inside I’m getting soaked here?” Denver waved him past as he made his way towards the dogs’ enclosure. He pointed at the Rottweiler with a scathing, “One day I’ll get mine and one day you’ll get yours, bitch!” He threw his cigar at Pepper who gnashed wildly at the fence. It hit the metal pole and ricocheted into a puddle. “I told them I never wanted this job to begin with.”
Detective Hawkins was still shaking his head as they found shelter under the torn awning above the perp walkway. He breathed a sigh of relief realizing how useless his black windbreaker had been at keeping him dry. He began to struggle with keeping Sydney calm. It seemed to have finally dawned on him that he wasn’t getting released. The ragged and weathered awning tarp flapped noisily above them. However, the beating of the thick fabric against the increasing wind was nothing compared to Sheriff Hanson. Through the closed window and howling wind, Sheriff Hanson’s voice was clear as if he were standing next to them. “DENVER, WILL YOU SHUT THOSE GOD DAMN DOGS UP
GOD DAMN IT!”
Gulping at the dread of going to that meeting with him. He saw Sydney looking at him with a puzzled expression, “Go on Sydney!” Pushing him towards the double brown doors, he could hear Sydney beginning to protest. Jabbing him in the side, “shut up Sydney you shouldn’t have acted so stupid. Deal or no deal, family or not I can’t protect you this time.” Sydney had fallen silent as Detective Hawkins turned back towards the K-9 enclosure to see Denver approaching Pepper. The Rottweiler barked with such ferocity that her slobber could easily be seen spewing from her mouth through the rain. “I told you to shut up you God damn cur!”
Detective Hawkins watched as Denver withdrew his leg and booted the dog several inches backwards. Pepper yelped in pain but immediately fell silent retreating with a slight limp. The blood thirsty attitude Pepper once displayed seemed to pop like a balloon. She cowered away retreating towards her doghouse near the back. The other dogs seeing Denver’s actions immediately fell silent and retreated to either their own houses or sheltered areas from the rain. Detective Hawkins knocked on the metal door making a rattling to nearly shake it off its hinges. A rusty lock gave a loud CLICK
before it swung open.
Detective Hawkins gave a puzzled expression as the door opened to reveal, “Kenny?” The gangly custodian stood in the door frame with mop in hand and a wide-eyed expression. “Yes,” he said almost lazily as if the word was too much effort to speak. “What are you doing answering the back door?” “Ok…” He replied and began to close it, “HEY, HEY!” Kenny opened it again revealing his nearly foot length spaghetti hair to begin soaking in the rain drops falling above him. “Let me in,”
pleaded Detective Hawkins pushing Sydney inside. “What are you doing back here? Where is Cookie?” “Up front,” Kenny replied. “What’s he doing up front that’s so important?” “Mountain Jack...” Rolling his eyes, “You know you’re not supposed to be back here Kenny. What are you even doing in here?” “Cleaning,” Detective Hawkin’s eyes traced over the room. A little table stood in the corner topped with inmate processing equipment. To the left of the table a pile of manilla folders for all recent bookings and lockups sat.
Kenny had already disappeared around the corner returning to the main hallway. CREAK…
The rusty iron gate of the prisoner holding cell squeaked as Sydney was led inside it. “Put your hands through and I’ll uncuff you.” “Sydney, you need to let me go. You don’t understand. The whole reason we are up here is because of me.” “I know that…” muttered Detective Hawkins with eyes reading a silent understanding. The lock clicked as Sydney removed the handcuffs. Sydney eyed him with a final look of utter disbelief. Unable to take his continued piercing glare of utter disbelief he
turned away, nearly jumping out of his skin.
Sheriff Hanson stood in the hallway framed near the doorway. His eyes attempting to peer through him into his very soul. “Mr. Hawkins I can put you in touch with the county prison pen pal system if you would like? In the meantime, I believe you were notified to report to my office at the earliest convenience. I see you are in the building would this be considered your earliest convenience?” “Can I first get cleaned up sheriff? I’m soaking wet here.” Sheriff Hanson glowered down at him his sagging face drooped like a candle near a fireplace. Eyes nearly disappeared behind his eyelids continuing with that stare that made him the town sheriff for fifteen years. “I sup’ose. I can do some paperwork until you decide to report to my office.”
SLAM… The metal locker of Detective Hawkins clanged against its neighbor. “At your earliest convenience, at your earliest convenience…” Jayson’s mocking imitation of his boss eased his nerves.
He snatched his towel from the wooden bench behind him. Patting himself dry before he snatched up his back up shit with a clatter. The brown shirt rattled the hanger as he began shoving his arm through.
Still muttering to himself as he buckled his dark green pants. Silently scolding himself in his little mirror always hating the deputie’s uniform. “I look like a God damn Park Ranger!”
Closing the locker door with a SLAM, Jayson leapt backwards several inches. A chuckling Kenny stood next to the locker, “CHRIST Kenny!” Kenny’s buzzard face displayed a crooked smile,
“That’s funny.” Jayson regained his composure, “What are you doing in here? Listening in on my conversation…” His held tilted up with an insulted, “not listening.” “Then what are you doing?”
“Cleaning…” Finishing the last button on his shirt, “You’re always cleaning but I never see anything really clean.” Kenny gave an indignant look and grabbed his mop that had been leaning against the wall. He moved out of the locker room passing Denver who squelched his way into the room.
His boots squished with every step as he gave Kenny a distrustful look in passing. Drenched
from head to toe he moved to his locker across from Jayson’s. Jayson smirked as Denver glanced at him. “What are you laughing at Hawkins?” He asked with such a grit to his teeth his lips barely moved. “You gave him the same look that you give Pepper.” Denver began to remove his boots, “I-I don’t trust h-him.” “Kenny…” exclaimed Jayson as Denver struggled to remove his boots releasing a small waterfall from each. The water spilled over the ground as Jayson handed the towel over to him.
He grunted his thanks and continued, “yeah…Kenny…” He said with such a distrustful and wary tone.
“What’s your deal with Kenny now?” “He’s always fishy…always sketchy. I don’t trust him.
He’s always doing things he shouldn’t be and NOT doing things he should be. Why is he walking around cleaning when he should be out there sandbagging the east wall. He knew the storm was coming! Everyone knew that it was coming! But there he is wandering around and the foundation is going to crack, and the station is going to flood. I’m telling you he’s up to something.” Denver reached over and gripped his wrist with a SNAP! “I’m keeping an eye on him Hawkins. Can I count on you to do the same?” Shaking his head Jayson replied, “I got to go see Sheriff Hanson.” “Keep your eyes on him Hawkins, I’m telling you keep your eyes on him. You can’t trust him just like Pepper.” “I got to go Denver.”
CA-CLICK… The handle to Sheriff Hanson’s door opened. The feeling of a disobedient student being sent to the principal’s office came over him. However, this time Jayson was not just smoking in the boy’s bathroom. “Sheriff…” He said simply trying to straighten himself up attempting to appear anxious free. However, he shrunk from the piercing stare of the Bloodhound resembling Sheriff sitting behind his desk.
The legendary scowl and piercing stare seemed to lock onto him. Lock him into an almost trance like movement towards the wooden chair in front of him. The sheriff closed a manilla folder in front of him without a downward glance. Closed it as if it had been put merely for show or display purposes only. Patiently waiting like the spider waits for the fly. The file had meant absolutely
nothing to him. “Yes, Detective Hawkins I am so glad that you could finally join me after making such a by the book arrest. And the issue with bringing him in on such miserable day.”
Detective Hawkins’s eyes flicked to the window as the very world had grown dark. The rain battered the window as if desperate to shatter it. Desperate to listen, “In all of my fifteen years of tenure I have never…NEVER…seen such a true representation of the fine dedication we have as public servants to the township of Clint.” Detective Hawkins tried to loosen in his chair sensing the oncoming sarcasm. His cowboy boots shuffled anxiously underneath him.
“Sheriff Hanson before you continue, I just want to mention that the reason I didn’t…” “I know the reason, detective.” He said it with such a firmness that it immediately halted the conversation. The infamous stare and directness of his statement was the equivalence of a conversation car crash. Again, the detective’s boots shifted in place as he repositioned himself in his seat. Stiff and uncomfortable like the interrogation chair, Detective Hawkins struggled to find his voice.
It seemed to take a lifetime before the sheriff continued deeming the detective worthy of his continued torment. “I have been going over your record and personal file with this department Mr.
Hawkins. Delving deep into what it is you exactly DO around here anymore. I see no progress or updates in the Walker Kinfolk Case that I assigned to you.” TAP, TAP, TAP, his wrinkled finger tapped the folder underneath his hand without a downward glance. His sagging eyes continued to burn through him holding him in place. “I have to say that your declining quality and professionalism is an utter disgrace. It is a disgrace to this department, to your fellow officers, the citizens, and your disgrace is my disgrace.”
Detective Hawkins shook his head, “I…I am not following you sir.” “I mean Mr. Hawkins it is a disgrace that I haven’t been more on top of you! A disgrace that I have allowed this degrading quality to continue in this department! A disgrace that I am NOW just realizing your relationship with
the man you just arrested! A disgrace that it has not been investigated further! Although, if there’s one thing, I can’t stand above unprofessionalism is cowardice…sheer an utter cowardice.” “Cowardice,”
repeated Detective Hawkins. “You are a first responder. You…” His finger rose from the folder and thrusted at him. Detective Hawkins immediately twitched in his seat unexpectedly. The jowls of
“Hands on Hanson” shook in his intensifying anger. “YOU detective are the law in this town. YOU
are here to make and keep these streets safe. And when one of my own men is afraid of those streets that he is supposed to be…” “I told you sir! There were near a dozen one percenter club …”
CRASH… The sheriff’s fist slammed onto the top of his desk. The mountains of files and uneven binders came crashing to the floor. Papers and manilla folders littered over the worn carpet. “I am not talking about that Mr. Hawkins! I am referring to the travesty of your appalling cowardice!
Cowardice that you not just displayed today but have been displaying over the last year. I understand that this town is dying, Mr. Hawkins. I understand that you might think it not worth your precious time to even serve anymore. Possibly just to collect a paycheck until enough is gathered for you to flee with every other citizen with half a brain. However, for the ones that are still here, will remain here, or forced to be here due to commitments to their potato farms or retirements. The town of Clint will continue to enforce law and order as long as I am still sheriff. And that will mean any man…ANY
MAN that is currently serving under my command!”
Sheriff Hanson’s glowering stare seemed to shrink Detective Hawkins in his seat. The silence and tension returned, filling the room like a thick fog. “You were hired by this department to help in the investigation, apprehensions, and dismantling of the stranglehold that the Walker Kinfolk have over this town. I see that you have not filed an updated report for two months. You have produced no progress, no notes, no updates, no news…no nothing!” Sheriff Hanson tapped the manilla folder with that aggravating TAP, TAP, TAP of his finger. “You have displayed nothing…NOTHING…but cowardice and contempt for your assigned duties!” Fingertip still pressed to the folder shaking in his
anger. “Detective…and I do mean that loosely and possibly temporarily. Since you are too frightened and scared to help me and your fellow officers to continue to enforce the laws, statues, and regulations of Clint. Maybe you could display some bravery in handling and filing this department’s long overdue paperwork, answering my calls, and taking my messages. Now you can get out of my face, sight, and office! Try to salvage some dignity during your reassignment and ongoing investigation.”
Unsure of what to say, Detective Hawkins rose from his seat giving his boss one final look.
The sheriff’s jowls swelled as his eyes went wide, determined to stare him out of his office. Detective Hawkins left his office feeling a soft BUZZ from his pocket. He pulled out his phone just as he closed the door with a soft CLICK. He placed a new toothpick in his mouth as he read the message.
[AXEL – President: The Satan’s Outlawz]
Detective Hawkins we need to talk! Meet me outside at the rear door of the station. Come Now!
