Bullet Through Your Face (improved format) (31 page)

It was all Kinion could do to suppress his bellow to a whisper.
“Hays! What’n Gawd’s name are you doin’—”
But Hays was still peeping in the winder. “Shee-it, boss. She’s
shore got a cute l’il cut ‘tween her gams, huh? Ooo-ee, and gander
that red pussy hair! Dang, Chief, you shore got yerself more restraint
than me ‘cos, see, if it was me standin’ here peepin’ in on that
bucknekit tramp, I’d be jackin’me off a hard snot right on the winder .
. .”
The Chief, in spite of his obvious outrage, did feel a tad’a relief
in that he hadn’t quite yet gotten around ta pullin’ out his dick when
Hays made his surprise appearance.
“Aw, looky, boss . . . She’s done turnt around so’s ya kin see her
butt!”
First impulse was to slap Hays silly, but that might not be too
wise on account even though the winder was closed, the Captain’d
probably hear a ruckus takin’ place, and that would not be a good
thing. So, the second impulse was ta—
Fuck it,
the Chief thought, and looked back in the winder.
And gulped.
Captain Majora, still nekit, mind you, was now standin’with her
back to the winder, and what a back it was ta gander. And she were
still stretchin’ too and then got ta doin’ exercises like bendin’ over’n
touchin’ her toes and ever time she bend over, that gorgeous angel’s
ass on her were shown ta every detail.
“Yeah, I’d be jackin’, boss,” Hays whispered.
I’d be jackin’too, Hays, if you hadn’t showed up!
the Chief could
not help but remind himself. The unallayed boner in his pants only
served as a
further
reminder. But the Chief’s eyes stayed fixed on
them open winder slats nevertheless and it occurred ta him then fast
as a sock in the eye what a beautiful thang a gal’s ass could be, and
this ass in particular, this ass on the wondrous Captain Majora, well, it de
fied bein’ mere beautiful. It transendered human language
n’fact. Tight but so well-shaped, perfect creamy white, yes sir, and
not a pimple on it nowheres, and each time she bent over, the Chief’s
willy did a flex. It were almost like that paragon of a butt on her were
winkin’ at him! And it were teasin’ him too, the way the butterks
parted ever-so-diminurtively—he could almost see her brown-eye,
he could! And what with the way her legs were spread, this gave him
a backshot’a that delecterble li’l tuft’a red fur ‘round front, and then
the Chief’s muse sailed away’n he thought,
If my wife had a butt like
that, why, I’d be the happiest man ta ever trod the earth,
but the truth
socked home with a fair amount’a immederacy . . .

Shore, Kinion, but it just so happens that your wife
don’t
got
a butt like that. What she got instead is somethin’ that looks like a
couple’a hunnert-pound bags of pigfeed throwed together . . .

Hays grinned devilishly, and whispered, “Wouldn’t it be dandy,
Chief? I mean, shove her facefirst against that there wall, jack off a
giant petersnot on her back, and watch all that cum just run right on
down inta her ass-crack? Then give her a good ol’dick-spankin’, yes
sir, that’s what she needs—Aw, shee-it, guess the butt-show’s over.”

Majora had ceased with the nekit exercisin’, and seemed very
concerned suddenly lookin’ at somethin’ on the li’l flipped-up
computer screen. Then, in haste, she hauled her Army clothes back
on, grabbed her .45’n holster, and left the motel room, and a second
later, the Chief’n Hays could hear her drive off in her government
sedan.

“Where’s she off to in such a hurry?” Hays wondered.
“I don’t know, but I’ll tell ya where
you’re
off to!” Kinion
grabbed his deputy by the collar and quickly walked the two of ‘em
back out ta Main Street. “You’re off to the Land of Whup-Ass!” The
Chief were pissed-off, all right, but he did his best to keep his piss-off
buttoned up till they gots back across the street in front of the station
but once they got there . . .
“I oughtas ta ring yer neck, boy!” the Chief exploded.

“You, that’s what! What’choo doin’ sneakin’ up behind me like
that!”
Hays shrugged. “Hail, Chief, how was I supposed ta know you
be peepin’ in her winder whiles she were nekit?”
“I wasn’t
peepin’
ta see her
nekit!
I ain’t no pree-vert!
”
“Well, Chief, I weren’t implyin’that there’s anythin’wrong with
peepin’on a bitch. Hail, that’s what winders are for. Ain’t nothin’that
any other red-blooded American fella wouldn’t do.”
“I weren’t
peepin’,
Hays! I was merely employin’ a little
investigative surveillance on her!”
“Why?”
“Why! Because you’re the one who’s tellin’ me she ain’t really
in the Army so’s I was merely checkin’her out ta see if she was doin’
anythang suspicious!”
“Look more ta me like you was checkin’ out her ass-crack,
boss—”
Yeah, the Chief felt like beltin’Hays a good one, he did. “Just tell
me what the holy
hail
you was doin’ follerin’ me!”
“Weren’t follerin’ ya, Chief,” Hays explained. “I came back to
the station but seen you weren’t there but yer car still was. Then I
seen ya walkin’ back behind the motel, so I come ta git ya.”
“Come ta git me fer what!”
“We got ourselves another call,” the deputy informed. “And it
sounds a right serious. See, we’se got a couple dozen housewives just
called the dispatcher all sayin’ that their hubbies are missin’.”
A call? At this hour? “A bunch’a fellas
missin’
, you say?”
“That’s a fact, boss. Ain’t none of ‘em come home tonight, and
they’se all got one thang in common. They’se all was supposed ta be
havin’ a meetin’ out at the VFW hall.”

“Dispatch, this here’s Unit Two-Zero-Eight, and I’m callin’ to
properly noterfy ya that we is 10-6 to VFW Post 3063.”
“Roger, Two-Zero-Eight.”
“Oh, and if I’se happen ta git back before you’re off duty,
honeybunch, how’s about I come over there and—”
Kinion grabbed the mic from Hays and hung it up with a curse
on his lips. “Knock that shit off and drive!”
“That’s a big 10-4, boss.”
So here’s they was again, out on a call with Hays drivin’ the
town cruiser and the Chief ridin’ shotgun. Chrast, it was gettiin’ late;
maybe one day the blammed mayor would allercate enough funds to
hire a night cop.
Yeah,
Kinion thought,
and if I had a square asshole,
I could shit a television.
But what could
this
be? Bunch’a VFW fellas
not turnin’ up? “Shee-it, Hays, they’se probably all went off to a bar
or somethin’.”
“Naw, Chief,” Hays countered. “See, one’a the ladies who
called—that would be Glenda Rawner, you know, Chief, that big fat
sloppy woman with the underbite who looks like someone knocked
her in the jaw with, like, a barn rafter? She’s married ta Conner
Rawson, you know that pissy fella who got one’a his legs blowed
off in some war’n rumor has it his leg weren’t the only thang blowed
off ‘cos—”
“I know who the Rawsons are, dag-blammit, Hays! Git to the
point!”
“Well, what I was sayin’ was I was sayin’ that Glenda Rawson
found the doors to the VFW hall locked but
swears
she heard
someone walkin’ ‘round in there’n not only that, she says she saw a
some fella look out the winder at her but he didn’t answer the door.
Says all the lights was out, too, even the parkin’ lot lights. Sounds
kinda screwy, huh, Chief?”
Kinda screwy . . .
What with Doc Willis bein’ kilt’n his wife
disappearin’ and then all them boys at the Watch-House goin’
unconscious with their pants down, yes sir, that shore made this a
fucked-up day, and it were quickly turnin’ into a fucked-up night
with this VFW bullshit. But Kinion looked at the bright side: at least
now he wouldn’t be gettin’home till way after his blubber-factory of
a wife would be asleep so’s he wouldn’t have ta listen to her bitch.
Boy’o boy, when Carleen got to bitchin’, the Chief’d sooner hit
hisself in the haid with one’a the big ball-peens they sell down at
Hodge’s Hardware.

And then a’corse there was this business with the radiant
Captain Majora. Why were she packin’ a gun the Army no longer
used? How’d she git ta the County Watch-House fer Boys faster’n
he and Hays did? And where she run off to so quick just a little while
ago when she doin’ the nekit version of the Denise Austin Aerobics
Show?

“Aw, shee-it, Chief,” Hays remembert. “Now that I thank of it, I
never did finish my story ‘bout Martha, did I?”
“Yes,” the Chief asserted, his belly hitchin’ at the thought. “You
did.”
“Naw, naw, boss, I never did get to the end and told ya why it is
they call her Martha the Tail.”
Well, as a matter’a fact, that were true, but right now the Chief
shore didn’t want to hear no more disgusterin’ stories from Hays,
‘specially after that double pork burger he’d picked up at R.A.’s
Barbeque Stand. “Fergit it, Hays. I don’t wanna hear.”
“Shore ya do, Chief—”
“No, Hays. Just shut up and drive!”
“That’s a big negatory, boss, ‘cos it ain’t right fer a fella to start a
story but not finish it proper. So’s I’se gonna tell whether ya like it’re
not.”
“Hays, if ya so much as—”
“See, boss, like I tolt ya, after I put that big ten-beer piss up her
ass, she gits ups ta go to the bathroom, right—and, shee-it—
I
shore
as
hail
didn’t have to go to the bathroom myself, no sir, not after
drainin’ my bladder up that old cumbucket’s brownhole. Anyways,
like I were tryin’ta tell ya, she gits up, and—Chrast, Chief!—I’se can
hear all my piss just
sloshin’
in her’n her belly’s stickin’ out like a
sack’a grain I peed so much in her, and then, Chief, then—”