Mark slipped the blade of his straight razor between the gun cabinet's doors, crowbarred it open, and with one gloved hand, brought down the shotgun from the top rung. He pulled two shells from the unlocked drawer below and slid them into the barrels, snapping the gun shut with a flick of his wrist. "Woo hoo, good times," he said, repocketing his blade, and took off for the second floor.
Ned Jr. was on his knees in his room, placing blocks one on top of another and knocking them down with a swipe of his skinny arm and a jabbering howl from his pursed lips that shook the bangs of his bowl cut. Mark tapped on the door with the butt of the gun, sliding it behind his back as Ned Jr. looked up.
"What's up, little man?"
"Hi-"
"Whatcha doing?"
"Playing King Kong." Ned Jr. looked down at Mark's hand. "Why are you wearing that glove?"
"My hand's cold-"
"Oh-"
"Is Maury taking good care of you?"
"I hate it when they leave me with him. He's boring-"
Mark laughed. "Tell me about it-" And he closed Ned Jr.'s bedroom door as the boy resumed being an ape. Four steps and he was inside Maury's room, the butt of the shotgun in his armpit, the open ends of the barrels on the boy's forehead. "Hi."
"What the fuck, dude?"
"You didn't say I couldn't come back-"
Maury grabbed the waistband of his jeans. "You can suck my dick, dude-"
Mark jabbed the barrels forward, two perfect red circles swelling instantly over Maury's expressionless face. "Shut the fuck up-"
"Ouch, man, that shit hurts." Maury put a hand to his forehead. "Why are you doing this?"
"You did it-"
"I didn't do nothing, man-"
"Sit there and get some paper and a pen." Mark pointed to Maury's desk with the gun. "You've got to write a letter to your stupid fucking parents, telling them why you killed yourself-"
"I won't fucking do that-"
"And Ned Jr.-"
Maury got up and sat down at his desk, pulling a pack of looseleaf paper and a pen from the top drawer. "Don't hurt my little brother-"
"Are you gonna do it or not?"
"Fuck you-"
"Dude, it doesn't have to be Shakespeare-"
"Don't hurt my little brother is all I ask-"
"Okay." Mark snorted a meatball of snot down his throat. "I'll dictate, you write. Since you're about as bright as that little retard in there-"
"You're lucky you have that fucking gun-"
"Dear Mom and Dad-"
Maury picked up the pen with a shaking hand and began writing, the first letters smearing with a tear that dropped from his eye. After he signed his name, he turned to Mark, who placed the barrels of the gun back above his nose. "Please don't-"
And Mark pulled the trigger, watching as the top of the boy's head detached itself from the rest of his body, the fragile bone dragging along with it hair, blood, brain, neurons, synapses, capillaries, and everything else that once resided just above and behind his best friend's face. The remaining parts of Maury fell sideways onto the floor, and Mark gave the ass one last good kick, then turned slowly at the noise behind him. He took a step forward and put a gloved hand over Ned Jr.'s mouth. "Have you ever been raped and murdered?" he whispered.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Black Holes
"What the fuck is this place, dude?" Bertha Shears' body looked as if God had fucked up royally and put mismatched halves of two different women together and plopped Bertha's head on top. From the waist up, she was straight up, the only things perverting those perfect lines two cupcake-sized breasts, half-moons stuck in orbit in front of the tiny Pluto that was her torso. Below her belt, her hips billowed out, straining against a pair of size 20 generic jeans from Lane Bryant that saw scarred meat flowing over their waistband like lava out of a volcano on Mars. "I've lived here fifteen years and never knew it was back here."
Mark put his hands on his hips and looked at Bertha, whose silhouette in the shack's doorway blocked out the sun behind. With a swivel of his neck, he took in the knotted, cracked boards, the hole in the wall behind him, the webs of hiding spiders in the corners, and the mound of dirt off to one side, a shovel firmly planted in its middle, and grinned. "It's my home away from home." He shrugged. "Actually, it's a tree house that isn't in a tree anymore."
"I thought it was your spaceship-"
"That too-"
He reached out and grabbed Bertha's wrist, pulling her to him and pushing his tongue into her mouth in one motion. Before she could kiss him back, he placed a hand on top of her head and dragged her down along the front of his body until her face was at his zipper. Another second and his pants were around his knees, his tiny erection bobbing at her lips.
Bertha reared back. "Wow, you got a small dick-"
"Shut the fuck up-"
"No, it's cute. I love it-" And she swallowed it - and his balls - in one gulp. Then spit them out, gagging. "Dude, your fuckin' pubes stink-"
"Oh, I haven't showered for a couple weeks-"
Bertha choke-gagged and spit a voluminous ball of saliva from deep in her throat between Mark's legs.
"And I gotta shit-"
She shook her head. "I don't think-" She coughed. "This floor isn't very stable-"
"You know you fucking want it-" Mark stepped out of his jeans and underwear, then locked his hands around her head and shoved his wet little dick into her open mouth, pumping her face until she was sucking him of her own volition. "Going boldy-" Before he could untangle his hands from her straight, shaggy hair, his perineum tightened, shriveling his testicles close to his pelvis and jolting his hips, then his cock, as he blasted three warm tethers of cum into Bertha's mouth.
Mark fell to his knees and fastened his mouth to Bertha's, drinking his cum from her tongue, which he swallowed for the third time that day. He pushed her onto her back and pulled on the waist of her jeans until they slid over her gelatinous hips, the zipper tearing, the button flying into his eye. "Fuck!" Blinking the sting out of his eye with fury, he grabbed her ankles and rammed her legs forward until she was on her shoulders and elbows, the folds of her chubby vagina staring up at him wide-eyed through an alien jungle of slick, matted curly springs of hair.
He rocketed to his feet, squatted over her, and licked her sticky clit with the head of his needle dick. Then loped forward, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands, until he felt her labia kissing his anus, at which he lowered himself further, hermetically sealing them together. With a forceful undulation of his abdomen, he pushed a 2 day-old turd out of his rectum-
"What the fuck?" Bertha twisted away from under him and scooted on her ass into the nearest corner, where she initiated an exploration of her brown, packed vagina. "What's your problem, dude? Why'd you do some sick shit like that?"
"Was that a pun?" Mark laughed. He ran his middle finger deep through his ass crack and flicked the results of his excavation at the crying girl in front of him.
"Jesus Christ!"
"I told you we were gonna space dock-"
"You fucking pervert." Bertha dug the last of Mark's turd from her cunt. "And with that little fucking toothpick-" She pointed. "Ha, I wouldn't've felt it anyway-"
Mark disengaged the shovel from the mound of dirt and held it high above his head, bringing it down with such force that as Bertha's skull split into uneven halves, the rest of his turd propelled from his ass and crashed into the wall behind him. He dislodged the shovel from Bertha's mouth, nose, and brain, then carefully wedged its bloody tip between two floorboards behind him, flipping one up to expose the hole he'd dug the day before. Two more boards and he dragged Bertha's cooling mass across the shack, depositing it into the shallow abyss.
Mark put his hands on his hips and looked at Bertha, whose silhouette in the shack's doorway blocked out the sun behind. With a swivel of his neck, he took in the knotted, cracked boards, the hole in the wall behind him, the webs of hiding spiders in the corners, and the mound of dirt off to one side, a shovel firmly planted in its middle, and grinned. "It's my home away from home." He shrugged. "Actually, it's a tree house that isn't in a tree anymore."
"I thought it was your spaceship-"
"That too-"
He reached out and grabbed Bertha's wrist, pulling her to him and pushing his tongue into her mouth in one motion. Before she could kiss him back, he placed a hand on top of her head and dragged her down along the front of his body until her face was at his zipper. Another second and his pants were around his knees, his tiny erection bobbing at her lips.
Bertha reared back. "Wow, you got a small dick-"
"Shut the fuck up-"
"No, it's cute. I love it-" And she swallowed it - and his balls - in one gulp. Then spit them out, gagging. "Dude, your fuckin' pubes stink-"
"Oh, I haven't showered for a couple weeks-"
Bertha choke-gagged and spit a voluminous ball of saliva from deep in her throat between Mark's legs.
"And I gotta shit-"
She shook her head. "I don't think-" She coughed. "This floor isn't very stable-"
"You know you fucking want it-" Mark stepped out of his jeans and underwear, then locked his hands around her head and shoved his wet little dick into her open mouth, pumping her face until she was sucking him of her own volition. "Going boldy-" Before he could untangle his hands from her straight, shaggy hair, his perineum tightened, shriveling his testicles close to his pelvis and jolting his hips, then his cock, as he blasted three warm tethers of cum into Bertha's mouth.
Mark fell to his knees and fastened his mouth to Bertha's, drinking his cum from her tongue, which he swallowed for the third time that day. He pushed her onto her back and pulled on the waist of her jeans until they slid over her gelatinous hips, the zipper tearing, the button flying into his eye. "Fuck!" Blinking the sting out of his eye with fury, he grabbed her ankles and rammed her legs forward until she was on her shoulders and elbows, the folds of her chubby vagina staring up at him wide-eyed through an alien jungle of slick, matted curly springs of hair.
He rocketed to his feet, squatted over her, and licked her sticky clit with the head of his needle dick. Then loped forward, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands, until he felt her labia kissing his anus, at which he lowered himself further, hermetically sealing them together. With a forceful undulation of his abdomen, he pushed a 2 day-old turd out of his rectum-
"What the fuck?" Bertha twisted away from under him and scooted on her ass into the nearest corner, where she initiated an exploration of her brown, packed vagina. "What's your problem, dude? Why'd you do some sick shit like that?"
"Was that a pun?" Mark laughed. He ran his middle finger deep through his ass crack and flicked the results of his excavation at the crying girl in front of him.
"Jesus Christ!"
"I told you we were gonna space dock-"
"You fucking pervert." Bertha dug the last of Mark's turd from her cunt. "And with that little fucking toothpick-" She pointed. "Ha, I wouldn't've felt it anyway-"
Mark disengaged the shovel from the mound of dirt and held it high above his head, bringing it down with such force that as Bertha's skull split into uneven halves, the rest of his turd propelled from his ass and crashed into the wall behind him. He dislodged the shovel from Bertha's mouth, nose, and brain, then carefully wedged its bloody tip between two floorboards behind him, flipping one up to expose the hole he'd dug the day before. Two more boards and he dragged Bertha's cooling mass across the shack, depositing it into the shallow abyss.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Aight
"Yo, what up nigger?"
"Did you just call me nigger?"
"Hey, hey, man, you can't say nigger-"
"Why not? You just called me a nigger-"
"Cause you white, you ain't no nigger-"
"What the fuck? I was just repeating what you said-"
"You can say cracker-"
"So can you-"
"Yeah, but my peeps been in slavery for 600 years-"
"I ain't enslaving nobody. As a matter of fact, I support my black brothers-" Mark clasped hands with Donte, exchanging a tight wad of five twenties for a sliver of alumimum foil folded flat several times over, which he slowly slipped into the front pocket of jeans. "So take that motherfucker. Besides, y'all like being called that-"
"Fuck you say-"
"What's the name of your gang?"
"The Cedarville Niggers-"
"All right then-"
"Man, we takin' ownership of that shit-"
"Whatever. I'm fuckin' white as a ghost and I don't like bein' called nigger-"
"Damn, motherfucker, there you go again-" Donte glanced his knuckles off the side of Mark's ribs through his leather jacket and laughed. "You a crazy motherfuckin' white boy-"
"Cracker. Get that shit right-"
Donte laughed again and ran his hand lightly over his cornrows as he looked around. He nodded towards a security guard walking their way. "You wanna smoke-"
"Sure-"
"Let's get the fuck outta here-"
Donte put a key in the door of an old burgundy Cadillac that sparkled in the twilight. "Here's my lady-" He locked the doors after Mark got in, pushed the gas pedal three times, then turned the ignition. "Purrin' like a fuckin' kitten-"
Mark laughed, watching the mall grow smaller through his tinted window as Donte pulled onto the highway. He reached into the glove box and grabbed a small box. Flipping the lid, he pulled out a plastic baggie filled with weed and rolling papers and set to crafting two of the skinniest joints ever known to mankind.
Donte jerked the car into Mark's neighborhood, sped past 20 or 30 cloned single-family homes and softly alighted onto a narrow blacktop that stretched around the back of the community's electrical power boxes. Out of sight, he jerked the key backwards and turned down the radio. "Gimme some of that shit-"
Mark handed one of the toothpicks to Donte and watched as the only 21 year-old Cedarville High lit and sucked down half of his perfectly cylindrical creation. Donte handed Mark the joint as he began choking, waving the smoke pouring from his chest out of his face. "Smoke the rest of that white boy's dick, will you?"
Mark grinned and obliged his friend, burning his lungs and fingertips with the rest of the twig. He stubbed the remaining millimeter in the ashtray and exhaled, the veins in his forehead straining with the force of his gagging. He picked up the other string of a joint and handed it to Donte. "Here-"
Another two drags between them and several thousand coughs and they lay back against their leather headrests. "Is is it true what they say about you," said Donte.
"What's that?"
"That you're a faggot?"
"Who says that?"
"People-"
"That's funny. They say you're on the DL-"
Donte laughed. He punched Mark's knee. "Man, I got nothin' 'gainst faggots." He coughed. "You know Larry-"
"Yeah-"
"I let him suck my dick before-"
"Really? Why?"
"Motherfucker owed me three hundred dollars. But he only had two hundred. So I said, 'Suck my dick and you ain't gotta worry 'bout the other hundred.' I was just kiddin'. Next thing I know, nigger on his knees with my dick in his mouth-"
Mark laughed. "What the fuck?"
"Best head I ever got-" Donte turned his bloodshot eyes to Mark and shifted in his seat.
"Ha-" Mark closed his eyes, giggling.
And Donte's lips brushed against his, the man's large knotty hand guiding Mark's to his crotch-
"Did you just call me nigger?"
"Hey, hey, man, you can't say nigger-"
"Why not? You just called me a nigger-"
"Cause you white, you ain't no nigger-"
"What the fuck? I was just repeating what you said-"
"You can say cracker-"
"So can you-"
"Yeah, but my peeps been in slavery for 600 years-"
"I ain't enslaving nobody. As a matter of fact, I support my black brothers-" Mark clasped hands with Donte, exchanging a tight wad of five twenties for a sliver of alumimum foil folded flat several times over, which he slowly slipped into the front pocket of jeans. "So take that motherfucker. Besides, y'all like being called that-"
"Fuck you say-"
"What's the name of your gang?"
"The Cedarville Niggers-"
"All right then-"
"Man, we takin' ownership of that shit-"
"Whatever. I'm fuckin' white as a ghost and I don't like bein' called nigger-"
"Damn, motherfucker, there you go again-" Donte glanced his knuckles off the side of Mark's ribs through his leather jacket and laughed. "You a crazy motherfuckin' white boy-"
"Cracker. Get that shit right-"
Donte laughed again and ran his hand lightly over his cornrows as he looked around. He nodded towards a security guard walking their way. "You wanna smoke-"
"Sure-"
"Let's get the fuck outta here-"
Donte put a key in the door of an old burgundy Cadillac that sparkled in the twilight. "Here's my lady-" He locked the doors after Mark got in, pushed the gas pedal three times, then turned the ignition. "Purrin' like a fuckin' kitten-"
Mark laughed, watching the mall grow smaller through his tinted window as Donte pulled onto the highway. He reached into the glove box and grabbed a small box. Flipping the lid, he pulled out a plastic baggie filled with weed and rolling papers and set to crafting two of the skinniest joints ever known to mankind.
Donte jerked the car into Mark's neighborhood, sped past 20 or 30 cloned single-family homes and softly alighted onto a narrow blacktop that stretched around the back of the community's electrical power boxes. Out of sight, he jerked the key backwards and turned down the radio. "Gimme some of that shit-"
Mark handed one of the toothpicks to Donte and watched as the only 21 year-old Cedarville High lit and sucked down half of his perfectly cylindrical creation. Donte handed Mark the joint as he began choking, waving the smoke pouring from his chest out of his face. "Smoke the rest of that white boy's dick, will you?"
Mark grinned and obliged his friend, burning his lungs and fingertips with the rest of the twig. He stubbed the remaining millimeter in the ashtray and exhaled, the veins in his forehead straining with the force of his gagging. He picked up the other string of a joint and handed it to Donte. "Here-"
Another two drags between them and several thousand coughs and they lay back against their leather headrests. "Is is it true what they say about you," said Donte.
"What's that?"
"That you're a faggot?"
"Who says that?"
"People-"
"That's funny. They say you're on the DL-"
Donte laughed. He punched Mark's knee. "Man, I got nothin' 'gainst faggots." He coughed. "You know Larry-"
"Yeah-"
"I let him suck my dick before-"
"Really? Why?"
"Motherfucker owed me three hundred dollars. But he only had two hundred. So I said, 'Suck my dick and you ain't gotta worry 'bout the other hundred.' I was just kiddin'. Next thing I know, nigger on his knees with my dick in his mouth-"
Mark laughed. "What the fuck?"
"Best head I ever got-" Donte turned his bloodshot eyes to Mark and shifted in his seat.
"Ha-" Mark closed his eyes, giggling.
And Donte's lips brushed against his, the man's large knotty hand guiding Mark's to his crotch-
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Chubby Double-Dildo Double-Penetrated Anal Lassies
"Dude, pop it in-"
Mark pushed the DVD tray shut and jumped on Maury's bed, next to his best friend. "It was in Flash's stash-"
After an FBI warning, four throbbing vaginas appeared on the TV screen, with the words "Play Movie," "Scene Selection," "Extras," and "Contact factwhores.com" next to them. Maury chose the second, then chose scene 7, "Dana Callahan and Jane Sheckleton." A pause and a flicker and two naked ladies with a healthy dose of belly rolls and stretch marks came on the screen with every intention of coming.
"Is your door locked?"
"Yep-"
Maury's eyes didn't move from the television as both sandy-haired ladies spread their legs across from one another, each's feet braced against the other's, and wiggled their clits wtih their chubby fingers, a stray digit or four slipping into their vaginas and anuses every few strokes.
"Dude, can we get some volume?"
Maury pressed a button on the remote and captured Jane's last erotic gasp as four long, fat pieces of rubber, each with penis heads on both ends, materialized between the women's drooling hairless vaginas.
"Black mambas-" Mark grinned and looked over at Maury, whose face, as always, showed as much emotion as the four double-headed dildos Dana and Jane were pushing two at a time into their cunts and assholes. He glanced down and espied a lump in Mark's jeans, brushing a hand over his own erection.
Dana and Jane slid down on the dildos until their vaginas met, then pulled apart, their labia strung together with clear ropes of each other's juices. Then back together and apart again, then again and again, their strokes quicker and more forceful, the younger Jane holding her own with the masterly Dana, the camera so close on their artificial copulation that Mark thought he could feel the heat of their friction, inhale the odor of their drowned nether regions.
"I need to jerk off-" And Maury pulled his hard-on out through his unzipped jeans, spit in his right hand, swabbed his penis quickly, then commenced scraping his hand up and down around it.
"Me too-" And Mark pulled his 4-incher out, smeared it with his pre-ejaculate and began to masturbate.
He looked to Maury's cock and found it to be as unremarkable as the rest of the boy, even though the muscle between his balls and asshole tightened with the desire to sit on it. He looked up at Maury's face and met the boy's eyes, which immediately dropped to his handiwork. Mark quickly reached over and grasped Maury's pale, veiny monument to obese women-
"Dude, what the fuck?" Maury stood up, pushing his dick back through his zipper. "I'm not a fag-"
"Me neither-" Mark let go of his deflated dick. "I just thought-"
"You thought wrong-"
"I mean," Mark swallowed a big slice of air, "I mean, the way you looked at me, I just thought-"
"What?"
"I was just being a friend. I thought you wanted me to do that. I didn't want to hurt your feelings-"
Maury shook his head and a slight line appeared in his forehead. "Just leave-"
Mark took another breath, sure that his eyes were spinning in their sockets, his brain shrinking and swelling in his skull. He let the blood beat against his eardrums a few more times, then jumped up, replaced his dick, and removed his DVD. "Dude, promise you won't tell anybody-"
Maury nodded.
"Promise me. I'm sorry." He laid a hand on Maury's shoulder, which didn't move. "I'm really sorry, Maury. You're my best friend. Please promise me."
Maury nodded. "I promise. Please leave now."
Mark heard the door shut softly behind him as he made his way down the stairs, past Maude-Lyn and Little Ned, and out the front door without making a sound.
Mark pushed the DVD tray shut and jumped on Maury's bed, next to his best friend. "It was in Flash's stash-"
After an FBI warning, four throbbing vaginas appeared on the TV screen, with the words "Play Movie," "Scene Selection," "Extras," and "Contact factwhores.com" next to them. Maury chose the second, then chose scene 7, "Dana Callahan and Jane Sheckleton." A pause and a flicker and two naked ladies with a healthy dose of belly rolls and stretch marks came on the screen with every intention of coming.
"Is your door locked?"
"Yep-"
Maury's eyes didn't move from the television as both sandy-haired ladies spread their legs across from one another, each's feet braced against the other's, and wiggled their clits wtih their chubby fingers, a stray digit or four slipping into their vaginas and anuses every few strokes.
"Dude, can we get some volume?"
Maury pressed a button on the remote and captured Jane's last erotic gasp as four long, fat pieces of rubber, each with penis heads on both ends, materialized between the women's drooling hairless vaginas.
"Black mambas-" Mark grinned and looked over at Maury, whose face, as always, showed as much emotion as the four double-headed dildos Dana and Jane were pushing two at a time into their cunts and assholes. He glanced down and espied a lump in Mark's jeans, brushing a hand over his own erection.
Dana and Jane slid down on the dildos until their vaginas met, then pulled apart, their labia strung together with clear ropes of each other's juices. Then back together and apart again, then again and again, their strokes quicker and more forceful, the younger Jane holding her own with the masterly Dana, the camera so close on their artificial copulation that Mark thought he could feel the heat of their friction, inhale the odor of their drowned nether regions.
"I need to jerk off-" And Maury pulled his hard-on out through his unzipped jeans, spit in his right hand, swabbed his penis quickly, then commenced scraping his hand up and down around it.
"Me too-" And Mark pulled his 4-incher out, smeared it with his pre-ejaculate and began to masturbate.
He looked to Maury's cock and found it to be as unremarkable as the rest of the boy, even though the muscle between his balls and asshole tightened with the desire to sit on it. He looked up at Maury's face and met the boy's eyes, which immediately dropped to his handiwork. Mark quickly reached over and grasped Maury's pale, veiny monument to obese women-
"Dude, what the fuck?" Maury stood up, pushing his dick back through his zipper. "I'm not a fag-"
"Me neither-" Mark let go of his deflated dick. "I just thought-"
"You thought wrong-"
"I mean," Mark swallowed a big slice of air, "I mean, the way you looked at me, I just thought-"
"What?"
"I was just being a friend. I thought you wanted me to do that. I didn't want to hurt your feelings-"
Maury shook his head and a slight line appeared in his forehead. "Just leave-"
Mark took another breath, sure that his eyes were spinning in their sockets, his brain shrinking and swelling in his skull. He let the blood beat against his eardrums a few more times, then jumped up, replaced his dick, and removed his DVD. "Dude, promise you won't tell anybody-"
Maury nodded.
"Promise me. I'm sorry." He laid a hand on Maury's shoulder, which didn't move. "I'm really sorry, Maury. You're my best friend. Please promise me."
Maury nodded. "I promise. Please leave now."
Mark heard the door shut softly behind him as he made his way down the stairs, past Maude-Lyn and Little Ned, and out the front door without making a sound.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Din-Din
Cast of Characters
Mark Dennison - hero, antihero, ubermensch, prophet, savior
Maury Wright - catatonic, pony-tailed, five-o'clock-shadowed underachiever and Mark's current best friend
Maude-Lyn Wright - Maury's mother and Cedarville High School's clinical, robotic English teacher whose appearance gives one the impression that she was half a chromosome away from being born with Down's Syndrome
Ned Wright, Jr. - Maury's precocious 5 year-old brother, who inspires pity from all he meets because of his haircut, which is the obvious result of Maude-Lyn placing a bowl atop his head and going to town with a pair of dull scissors
Ned Wright, Sr. - Maury's elderly father and Cedarville High School's music teacher and band leader, who is deaf in one ear and hard of hearing in the other and will never be caught dead out of his plaid shirt, oversized jeans, and suspenders
A 12-gauge shotgun - so Anton won't get mad
Act One (and only)
Scene One (and only)
(The Wrights' dining room. A rectangular table, covered in a plastic tablecloth with little flowers on it, sits in the center of the room. Four bowls are in its center: one contains macaroni and cheese; the second, Vienna sausages; the third, large rubbery meatballs; and the fourth, the thickest pasta Mark's ever seen. Maude-Lyn sits at one end of the table, Ned Sr. sits at the other end. Mark and Maury sit on one side, Little Ned on the other.)
MAUDE-LYN: How is everything, Mark?
MARK: Good. Especially the mac-n-cheese. It's magnifique (pronounced 'mag-neee-feek').
MAUDE-LYN: Well, thank you. This is Little Ned's favorite meal. We have it a few times a week. I thought you would like it.
MARK: I'll tell everyone in class tomorrow how good it was.
MAUDE-LYN: Thank you, Mark, but you do not have to do that. (She shakes her head.) I do not know how Bertha Shears maintains an A in my class.
MARK: Why is that?
MAUDE-LYN: Because she spends all of her time looking at you.
(Mark looks down to his plate and laughs.)
MAUDE-LYN: So you have noticed too?
MARK: She's pretty obvious-
MAUDE-LYN: Do her attentions bother you? It does not make for an unpleasant schooling environment for you, does it?
MARK: Oh, no, it doesn't bother me. She's never said anything to me. Other than hi every now and then. I guess it's kind of flattering-
MAUDE-LYN: I am sure Maury would be flattered. That is, if a girl ever looked at him. (She laughs.)
NED SR.: Huh? Maury's getting fatter?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned. I said, Maury wishes a girl would give him some attention-
NED SR.: Yeah, even the wrong kind.
MAURY: Thanks.
MAUDE-LYN: Learn to take a joke, son. If you could laugh at yourself, you would be a lot happier.
NED SR.: Yeah, you'd have a lot to laugh at-
NED JR.: (pointing at his plate) Look! Mommy, look at my art!
(Everyone looks at Ned Jr.'s plate. His pasta borders his plate in a semi-circle; in the middle, two meatballs rest above a horizontal Vienna sausage.)
NED JR.: It's Daddy!
MAUDE-LYN: That is very good, Little Ned.
(Ned Jr. looks at his mother. His bottom lip pops out and his eyes well up. He takes a deep breath, then lets out a wail that shakes everyone's eardrums but Ned Sr.'s.)
MAUDE-LYN: (reaching over and stroking Little Ned's arm) Little Ned, it is great. Just great. It is a fantastic piece of work. It looks just like Daddy. It is....perfect!
NED JR.: I can't eat.
MAUDE-LYN: Yes, you can. You need to eat so you can grow up and be even smarter and make even greater art.
NED JR.: No, I can't. I can't eat Daddy. (He puts his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands and continues to sob silently, the jagged edges of his bowl cut shivering with his breaths.)
MAUDE-LYN: (looking to Mark) Those are the travails of having a talented and gifted child. It is very challenging. You have got to give the appropriate level of praise or all bets are off.
MARK: I can see that. Wow. Amazing. And that cool little haircut of his-
NED SR: Huh? Who's talking smut?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned. Mark just said that he thinks Little Ned is very gifted.
MARK: You know, Maury's bright too-
MAUDE-LYN: You would never know it. He does not apply himself.
MARK: He did make the honor roll last quarter-
NED SR.: By the skin of his teeth. And that's after a good brushing.
MAUDE-LYN: (laughing) Oh, Ned-
MARK: Yes, but the honor roll's still good. Of course, everyone can do better-
MAUDE-LYN: What did you get on your report card, Mark?
MARK: (looking down and almost whispering) All A's.
MAUDE-LYN: See right there. And it is because you work your behind off and overachieve-
MARK: Actually, I-
MAUDE-LYN: All Maury does is lock himself up in his room with his video games and DVDs.
NED SR.: I think maybe if we take the TV out of his room-
MAURY: Dad-
MAUDE-LYN: I do not think that is the answer. Maury, you are just going to have to be more like Mark and Little Ned and your father-
NED SR.: Huh? Wed your father?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned.
(Mark and Maury exchange a sideways glance and roll their eyes at one another. A few more bites off their plates and they are finished eating. Mark sits back from the table and places his napkin on his plate. He looks over at the top of Ned Jr.'s bent shaking head and wonders what his little brain tastes like.)
MAUDE-LYN: So Mark, are your parents still together?
MARK: No, ma'am, my mother and father split up when I was three. I haven't seen or heard from my father since. I do know, though, that he died in Iraq during the initial invasion.
MAUDE-LYN: Oh, really? That is horrible. I am very sorry to hear that. His blood is on President Bush's hands.
NED SR.: Huh? Bush is still a band?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned. Mark lost his father in Iraq, at the hands of George Bush.
NED SR.: I'm sorry to hear that, Mark. Damn George Bush! (He slams his fist on the table.) I lost my father in the second world war. In '45. Thanks to Truman, that war-mongering son of a bitch. We never should have entered that war either. I can't wait until this country collapses. It's been nothing but war, war, war since its inception. Killing nothing but innocents. Like my father. And yours. There's never any reason to go to war. Once this country is toppled, there will be peace on earth for a million years. (He slams both fists on the table.)
(Mark, Maury, Maude-Lyn, and Ned Jr. stare at flushed-face Ned Sr. for several minutes. Then Ned Jr. begins to cry loudly once more.)
MAUDE-LYN: It is okay, Neddie. Daddy is not mad at you. He is mad at the criminal President Bush and President Truman. You go on up to your room now and work on your spelling. I will be up a little later. Remember, we are still working on one- and two-letter words.
NED JR.: (getting up and walking out of the room.) I can't eat Daddy, I can't eat Daddy, I can't eat Daddy, I....
MAUDE-LYN: (whispering) We are a very anti-war, anti-violence family. We believe in peace at all costs. Especially Big Ned. He gets a little emotional sometimes.
NED SR.: How did your father die, Mark? Was it friendly fire?
MARK: No, sir. His squad was ambushed. He was the only one who was killed.
NED SR.: Figures-
MARK: His commanding officer said that he was responsible for saving the lives of his fellow soldiers and actually helping them to defeat the insurgents who attacked them. He was given a Purple Heart.
NED SR.: What a shame. What a shame. And I bet you don't have anything to remember him by, do you?
MARK: No, sir.
NED SR.: Do you like to hunt, Mark?
MARK: Huh?
NED SR.: I didn't stutter. Geez, you sound like Maury. When he opens his mouth every blue moon. I said, do you like to hunt?
MARK: I've never been hunting-
(Ned Sr. gets up and exits the room in a hurry.)
MAURY: Thanks, Mark-
MAUDE-LYN: Maury Wright!
(Ned Sr. enters the room carrying a large double-barreled shotgun.)
NED SR.: This was my father's. I've been hunting since I was child. My grandfather used to take me out hunting until I was old enough to go with my buddies. I wish I'd been able to go with my dad.
MARK: Me, too-
NED SR.: I keep it in my gun case in the living room with my rifles and ammo. But it goes on the top rung. I don't know what I'd do without it. Every time I shoot it, I can feel my father looking down on me.
MARK: That's great-
NED SR.: You know, Mark, if you ever want to go hunting, I can arrange it. I've never been able to get Maury out there with me. I'll even let you use my father's gun here.
MARK: Sir, I look forward to shooting your father's gun someday.
Exeunt.
Mark Dennison - hero, antihero, ubermensch, prophet, savior
Maury Wright - catatonic, pony-tailed, five-o'clock-shadowed underachiever and Mark's current best friend
Maude-Lyn Wright - Maury's mother and Cedarville High School's clinical, robotic English teacher whose appearance gives one the impression that she was half a chromosome away from being born with Down's Syndrome
Ned Wright, Jr. - Maury's precocious 5 year-old brother, who inspires pity from all he meets because of his haircut, which is the obvious result of Maude-Lyn placing a bowl atop his head and going to town with a pair of dull scissors
Ned Wright, Sr. - Maury's elderly father and Cedarville High School's music teacher and band leader, who is deaf in one ear and hard of hearing in the other and will never be caught dead out of his plaid shirt, oversized jeans, and suspenders
A 12-gauge shotgun - so Anton won't get mad
Act One (and only)
Scene One (and only)
(The Wrights' dining room. A rectangular table, covered in a plastic tablecloth with little flowers on it, sits in the center of the room. Four bowls are in its center: one contains macaroni and cheese; the second, Vienna sausages; the third, large rubbery meatballs; and the fourth, the thickest pasta Mark's ever seen. Maude-Lyn sits at one end of the table, Ned Sr. sits at the other end. Mark and Maury sit on one side, Little Ned on the other.)
MAUDE-LYN: How is everything, Mark?
MARK: Good. Especially the mac-n-cheese. It's magnifique (pronounced 'mag-neee-feek').
MAUDE-LYN: Well, thank you. This is Little Ned's favorite meal. We have it a few times a week. I thought you would like it.
MARK: I'll tell everyone in class tomorrow how good it was.
MAUDE-LYN: Thank you, Mark, but you do not have to do that. (She shakes her head.) I do not know how Bertha Shears maintains an A in my class.
MARK: Why is that?
MAUDE-LYN: Because she spends all of her time looking at you.
(Mark looks down to his plate and laughs.)
MAUDE-LYN: So you have noticed too?
MARK: She's pretty obvious-
MAUDE-LYN: Do her attentions bother you? It does not make for an unpleasant schooling environment for you, does it?
MARK: Oh, no, it doesn't bother me. She's never said anything to me. Other than hi every now and then. I guess it's kind of flattering-
MAUDE-LYN: I am sure Maury would be flattered. That is, if a girl ever looked at him. (She laughs.)
NED SR.: Huh? Maury's getting fatter?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned. I said, Maury wishes a girl would give him some attention-
NED SR.: Yeah, even the wrong kind.
MAURY: Thanks.
MAUDE-LYN: Learn to take a joke, son. If you could laugh at yourself, you would be a lot happier.
NED SR.: Yeah, you'd have a lot to laugh at-
NED JR.: (pointing at his plate) Look! Mommy, look at my art!
(Everyone looks at Ned Jr.'s plate. His pasta borders his plate in a semi-circle; in the middle, two meatballs rest above a horizontal Vienna sausage.)
NED JR.: It's Daddy!
MAUDE-LYN: That is very good, Little Ned.
(Ned Jr. looks at his mother. His bottom lip pops out and his eyes well up. He takes a deep breath, then lets out a wail that shakes everyone's eardrums but Ned Sr.'s.)
MAUDE-LYN: (reaching over and stroking Little Ned's arm) Little Ned, it is great. Just great. It is a fantastic piece of work. It looks just like Daddy. It is....perfect!
NED JR.: I can't eat.
MAUDE-LYN: Yes, you can. You need to eat so you can grow up and be even smarter and make even greater art.
NED JR.: No, I can't. I can't eat Daddy. (He puts his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands and continues to sob silently, the jagged edges of his bowl cut shivering with his breaths.)
MAUDE-LYN: (looking to Mark) Those are the travails of having a talented and gifted child. It is very challenging. You have got to give the appropriate level of praise or all bets are off.
MARK: I can see that. Wow. Amazing. And that cool little haircut of his-
NED SR: Huh? Who's talking smut?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned. Mark just said that he thinks Little Ned is very gifted.
MARK: You know, Maury's bright too-
MAUDE-LYN: You would never know it. He does not apply himself.
MARK: He did make the honor roll last quarter-
NED SR.: By the skin of his teeth. And that's after a good brushing.
MAUDE-LYN: (laughing) Oh, Ned-
MARK: Yes, but the honor roll's still good. Of course, everyone can do better-
MAUDE-LYN: What did you get on your report card, Mark?
MARK: (looking down and almost whispering) All A's.
MAUDE-LYN: See right there. And it is because you work your behind off and overachieve-
MARK: Actually, I-
MAUDE-LYN: All Maury does is lock himself up in his room with his video games and DVDs.
NED SR.: I think maybe if we take the TV out of his room-
MAURY: Dad-
MAUDE-LYN: I do not think that is the answer. Maury, you are just going to have to be more like Mark and Little Ned and your father-
NED SR.: Huh? Wed your father?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned.
(Mark and Maury exchange a sideways glance and roll their eyes at one another. A few more bites off their plates and they are finished eating. Mark sits back from the table and places his napkin on his plate. He looks over at the top of Ned Jr.'s bent shaking head and wonders what his little brain tastes like.)
MAUDE-LYN: So Mark, are your parents still together?
MARK: No, ma'am, my mother and father split up when I was three. I haven't seen or heard from my father since. I do know, though, that he died in Iraq during the initial invasion.
MAUDE-LYN: Oh, really? That is horrible. I am very sorry to hear that. His blood is on President Bush's hands.
NED SR.: Huh? Bush is still a band?
MAUDE-LYN: (pointing to her ear) Turn up your hearing aid, Ned. Mark lost his father in Iraq, at the hands of George Bush.
NED SR.: I'm sorry to hear that, Mark. Damn George Bush! (He slams his fist on the table.) I lost my father in the second world war. In '45. Thanks to Truman, that war-mongering son of a bitch. We never should have entered that war either. I can't wait until this country collapses. It's been nothing but war, war, war since its inception. Killing nothing but innocents. Like my father. And yours. There's never any reason to go to war. Once this country is toppled, there will be peace on earth for a million years. (He slams both fists on the table.)
(Mark, Maury, Maude-Lyn, and Ned Jr. stare at flushed-face Ned Sr. for several minutes. Then Ned Jr. begins to cry loudly once more.)
MAUDE-LYN: It is okay, Neddie. Daddy is not mad at you. He is mad at the criminal President Bush and President Truman. You go on up to your room now and work on your spelling. I will be up a little later. Remember, we are still working on one- and two-letter words.
NED JR.: (getting up and walking out of the room.) I can't eat Daddy, I can't eat Daddy, I can't eat Daddy, I....
MAUDE-LYN: (whispering) We are a very anti-war, anti-violence family. We believe in peace at all costs. Especially Big Ned. He gets a little emotional sometimes.
NED SR.: How did your father die, Mark? Was it friendly fire?
MARK: No, sir. His squad was ambushed. He was the only one who was killed.
NED SR.: Figures-
MARK: His commanding officer said that he was responsible for saving the lives of his fellow soldiers and actually helping them to defeat the insurgents who attacked them. He was given a Purple Heart.
NED SR.: What a shame. What a shame. And I bet you don't have anything to remember him by, do you?
MARK: No, sir.
NED SR.: Do you like to hunt, Mark?
MARK: Huh?
NED SR.: I didn't stutter. Geez, you sound like Maury. When he opens his mouth every blue moon. I said, do you like to hunt?
MARK: I've never been hunting-
(Ned Sr. gets up and exits the room in a hurry.)
MAURY: Thanks, Mark-
MAUDE-LYN: Maury Wright!
(Ned Sr. enters the room carrying a large double-barreled shotgun.)
NED SR.: This was my father's. I've been hunting since I was child. My grandfather used to take me out hunting until I was old enough to go with my buddies. I wish I'd been able to go with my dad.
MARK: Me, too-
NED SR.: I keep it in my gun case in the living room with my rifles and ammo. But it goes on the top rung. I don't know what I'd do without it. Every time I shoot it, I can feel my father looking down on me.
MARK: That's great-
NED SR.: You know, Mark, if you ever want to go hunting, I can arrange it. I've never been able to get Maury out there with me. I'll even let you use my father's gun here.
MARK: Sir, I look forward to shooting your father's gun someday.
Exeunt.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Love Letter
Dear Mom and Dad,
I'm sorry. If you even care.
This was something I had to do and since I was your son I figured I should tell you why. It was your fault. I know you hated me ever since I was born. I could tell by the way you always talked down to me and I could never do anything right. That's why I never talked and seemed so comatose all the time. Because I was put in a coma by your emotional neglect and abuse. Why did you hate me so much? Maybe now you can be happy.
Was I really that bad of a person? So bad that my own parents hated me until I had to take care of myself? I don't see how Little Ned was so much better than I was. I know he was talented and gifted and everything but I think he was retarded. Plus he was a spoiled fucking brat. And he had a bad haircut. And he told me that he hated both of you as much as I did.
You two made me miserable. I was never good enough. Everything I did was wrong. I was ugly. I looked like that guy who used to be on David Letterman a long time ago. But not anymore. Now I look like that guy who tried to commit suicide after he listened to Judas Priest. Only I'm dead right away. And you're happy.
Maybe I'm happy too. I was talking to my friend Mark and he told me that I had a lot to live for and that I was a good person and that I was really smart and talented and had a lot going for me but I know he only said that to be nice. Tell Mark I'm sorry I didn't listen to him. Instead, I listened to what my parents were saying all my life.
I don't think I was a bad person. Like when I raped Little Ned before I killed him I was very gentle on his tight little asshole. I stuck all kinds of little things up him to loosen him up before I put my dick up there so he wouldn't bleed too bad. He didn't. And I didn't even come in his ass. I just pulled out and ran to the bathroom and did it in the toilet then flushed. He didn't even cry. He said it felt good. He even got a boner. You should have seen it. It was tiny. At least that's one thing I had over him. My dick was bigger than his.
And when I killed him I blew the top of his head off with one shot. It was quick and painless I'm sure. I put the gun to his temple, said "Mom and Dad wanted me to do this," then I pulled the trigger. He didn't cry then either.
I'm sorry. If you even care.
AMF,
Maury
I'm sorry. If you even care.
This was something I had to do and since I was your son I figured I should tell you why. It was your fault. I know you hated me ever since I was born. I could tell by the way you always talked down to me and I could never do anything right. That's why I never talked and seemed so comatose all the time. Because I was put in a coma by your emotional neglect and abuse. Why did you hate me so much? Maybe now you can be happy.
Was I really that bad of a person? So bad that my own parents hated me until I had to take care of myself? I don't see how Little Ned was so much better than I was. I know he was talented and gifted and everything but I think he was retarded. Plus he was a spoiled fucking brat. And he had a bad haircut. And he told me that he hated both of you as much as I did.
You two made me miserable. I was never good enough. Everything I did was wrong. I was ugly. I looked like that guy who used to be on David Letterman a long time ago. But not anymore. Now I look like that guy who tried to commit suicide after he listened to Judas Priest. Only I'm dead right away. And you're happy.
Maybe I'm happy too. I was talking to my friend Mark and he told me that I had a lot to live for and that I was a good person and that I was really smart and talented and had a lot going for me but I know he only said that to be nice. Tell Mark I'm sorry I didn't listen to him. Instead, I listened to what my parents were saying all my life.
I don't think I was a bad person. Like when I raped Little Ned before I killed him I was very gentle on his tight little asshole. I stuck all kinds of little things up him to loosen him up before I put my dick up there so he wouldn't bleed too bad. He didn't. And I didn't even come in his ass. I just pulled out and ran to the bathroom and did it in the toilet then flushed. He didn't even cry. He said it felt good. He even got a boner. You should have seen it. It was tiny. At least that's one thing I had over him. My dick was bigger than his.
And when I killed him I blew the top of his head off with one shot. It was quick and painless I'm sure. I put the gun to his temple, said "Mom and Dad wanted me to do this," then I pulled the trigger. He didn't cry then either.
I'm sorry. If you even care.
AMF,
Maury
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