The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole! (1) (12 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Moon,Timothy W. Long

BOOK: The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole! (1)
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Jerome smiles and asks Bud the same question.

Bud doesn’t look up from the Daily Gab spread out on the glass case containing the flavored anal lubes and beads. He turns the page lazily and tells Jerome, “Nope.”

Jerome grunts and asks, “How ya doin’
 
this morning, Leon?”
 

Leon walks down the last step and replies, “Cock cock Jesus cock.”

Jerome adjusts his crotch and laughs, “Jesus cock you’re weird, Leon.”
 

“Sins sheep blowjob lamb,”
 
Leon tells him and then makes his way to the peep show hallway where his janitor closet and mop bucket await him.
 

“Mornin’,
 
Leon,” Bud says without looking up.

“Anal twins hail Mary, Bud,”
 
Leon says with a nod and a smile.

Jerome waddles past a display of Jaime St. Pucker Pocket Pussies (his current bestseller) to Bud at the counter. “I don’t get it. Leon
don’t
act retarded, but he talks like some sacrilege pervert.”

“Are you kidding
me?”
 
Bud’s bloodshot eyes glare at Jerome over
his skinny-rimmed glasses.

Jerome huffs and stares at Bud with confusion etched on his fat face.

“You are slowly frying his fucking brain, you asshole,”
 
Bud says with a look of disgust. “You and your fucking bathtub acid. You use his straw to stir every batch of that shit …”

“Whoa,”
 
Jerome says a
nd raises a hand to silence Bud. “F
irst of all, you shitbag, it ain’t
 
‘shit.’
 
It is every bit as potent as real LSD and made almost entirely of things you can find around your house.”
 

Bud scoffs. “Yeah, if you live in a crack house with The Merry Pranksters and have a pharmacy for your basement.”
 

Jerome hitches up his pants and frowns at Bud’s interruption. “And I don’t just stir it, Bud, I straight dose Leon every fucking morning. Well, except Sundays. Because of church and all.”

Bud’s jaw drops open and his eyes twitch. He can’t find the words to describe what a greasy shit stain Jerome is.

Jerome misinterprets Bud’s silence. “I know, right?!?!”

Bud’s self-control loses the battle with his outrage, and he shouts, “You are a greasy shit stain, Jerome! Your bathtub acid is full of fucking
household poisons. You’ll fucking kill him!”

Jerome waves his fat hand in the air as if to wipe away Bud’s words. “What the
fuck ever. It kicks ass.

 
He chuckles and it shakes him like a bowl of moldy Jell-o. “Just ask Leon!”
 

As he says it, Jerome remem
bers he has a batch in the back-
up mop bucket in Leon’s closet. Leon hardly ever changes buckets, but if he notices the oily acid, he might dump it down the drain.
 

“Shit!”
 
He waddles as fast as he can to the peep show hallway, yelling Leon’s name as he goes.

Leon has the door to his closet open, but he hasn’t yet grabbed his mop and bucket when Jerome rolls around the corner into the darkened jerk-off hallway, clutching his chest and wheezing like the dying. The fat man’s face has turned blue.

Jerome gasps, “Leon … *gag* … some ass … *raspy breath* … hole … *gag* … unsealed … *raspy breath into gag* … the … *deep breath* … motha’
 
fuckin’ … *cough, cough, gag* … glory hole… *gag, choke, spit, and sigh*… between booths fifteen and fourteen.”
 

Leon looks down the hallway, which is lit only by the large case showing the current assortment of porn playing in the booths, to booth 15 at the hall’s dark end. A chill shakes him, and nervousness clouds his eyes.

He looks to the still-wheezing Jerome and says, “Glory hole … nononono.”

“Oh yeah,” Jerome adds, reaching past Leon into the closet, “and take this.”
 

He hands Leon an old and rusted half-empty toolbox. Leon sighs and walks down the dark hallway, never even turning to see what movie he would choose to spank off to before he goes to his next job. Most likely that new Hindu/sacred cow/bestiality DVD Jerome showed him two days ago. Then he could watch it in the privacy of his own small room rather than one of the crowded cum-smelling booths he cleans to pay his rent.
 

While Leon walks down the hall, lost in thoughts of swinging cow balls, Jerome ducks back into the janitor closet. He grabs the straw from Leon’s favorite mug in one fat fist and pulls it out with a slurping sound. He chuckles, fat and wet, while he stirs the small tub of homemade LSD with Leon’s straw.
 

Leon opens the door to booth 14. So far in his employ at Jerome’s EXXXtreme Theater and Sex Shop, Leon has never been inside booth 15. It is the darkest booth in the entire hallway and the most popular. It has only one neighbor and gives a half-assed impression of privacy to businessmen as they take mid-afternoon wank breaks. Something about booth 15 always sets the hair on the back of Leon’s neck on end. When the glory hole appeared between booths 14 and 15, Leon got his first views of the creepy area through the dick-shaped hole. Leon has sealed the hole up
at least a dozen times, but someone (or in Leon’s mind
something
) keeps tearing the block away.

He digs in his pocket for his employee coin, which he drops in the coin slot. The screen clicks to life as the coin drops out of the return. A blonde with double D titties is getting pounded from behind on the screen, but Leon pays her little attention. He likes the noise, as it keeps his mind from wandering about the horrors of booth 15. He kneels, opens his toolbox, and digs for the flathead screwdriver.

The screen in booth 15 clicks to life. Leon jumps a little at the sound
,
but he glances to the blonde on screen. After watching her tits bounce for a second, Leon turns his attention back to his screwdriver search. He hears a deep moan from booth 15, and he mutters “titty fuck”
 
under his breath. He wraps his shaking fingers around the screwdriver. As he turns to stand, a giant black dick flops through the glory hole and smacks him hard across his face.

Leon tips backward, hand on cheek. He stares at the dick (which is big e
nough to have starred in Ugandan Midget Gangbang
volumes 1 through 9), and it bounces playfully inches from his stinging cheek. Leon reacts instinctively by hammering the offending prick with the hard plastic handle of the screwdriver before grabbing his tool box. He rubs his cheek and smashes the rusty toolbox against the huge prick before fleeing the horror of the massive face-slapping schlong.

The owner of the beaten dick howls and crashes against the walls of booth 15, shaking the doors to all the booths on the same side of the hallway, but Leon doesn’t look back. He opens the door to his janitor closet and throws the toolbox to the floor harder than he means to. The man in booth 15 is cursing and threatening lives in a deep angry voice, but he doesn’t open the door before Leon grabs his mug and leaves the hallway behind him.

Jerome eyes Leon suspiciously as he hauls ass out of the hallway.

“Whoa, Leon,”
 
Jerome says while leaning forward on the glass case. The case whines under his weight, and he leans back, “What happened?”

Leon shouts, “Monster cock vengeful God!”
 
before bolting out the door and disappearing into the bright sunlight of the Nevada morning.

Jerome asks Bud, “What do you make of that, smart guy?”

Bud doesn’t look up but says “Hmmmmmph.”

Jerome nods and leans onto the counter. The old wood creaks painfully, and he leans back quickly.

 
“Huh,”
 
Bud says. “Do you remember the Cockbugs they found at Burning Man?”
 

 
“Not as cool as a “Pussybug”
 
would be,”
 
Jerome says and then laughs immediately at his own joke.

 
“Whatever,”
 
Bud tells him. He has heard the same joke for a week
now. He pushes his shaggy gray hair away from his forehead and wipes the sweat away as well. “Do you remember?”

 
“Yeah, yeah,”
 
Jerome says with a fart. “Did you hear me say Pussybugs? You fucking stink, Bud,”
 
he adds as he waddles farther down the counter in an effort to outrun his own stench.

Bud takes off his glasses and sets them on the counter. He spins off his tall metal stool and points one nicotine-stained finger at Jerome, “You know what, you fat flop of shit?”
 

“Whoa, calm down, Bud,”
 
Jerome tries to lean on the case again, but the jelly dildos of assorted colors and sizes waggle admonishingly at him, and he leans back with a sigh. “Tell me about your super-neat Cockbugs.”
 

“Nope.”
 
Bud shakes his head of wild gray hair. “
if
you want to know about it, you gotta read the cocksucking paper your fat self.”

He grabs his copy of The Daily Gab and flings it down the counter at Jerome. It lands with a
thwack
 
and hides the still-shaking dildos below. Jerome leans forward and eyes the magazine.

It reads “The Daily Cunt,” and the headline warns “It’s the End of the World and
You
are About to be Assfucked into Eternity!”

“You strange bastard,”
 
Jerome chuckles as he reaches for it, but the fat man’s chortle gurgles into silence when he looks at the cover again to see an ordinary Daily Gab with the far less eye-catching headline “The Beginning of The END!”
 

“What?”
 
a confused Jerome blurts out.

Bud grits his teeth and asks, “Are you still being a funny guy, you fucking asshole?”

“No.”
 
Jerome shakes his fat head, “It was called The Daily Cunt, and it told me I was about to be assfucked into eternity.”

“Oh, you should be so fucking lucky,”
 
Bud snaps as he grabs his Daily Gab off the counter. “It’s the Apocalypse and you want to make jokes. But I guess that doesn’t matter none, because my bomb shelter is built off your basement. Am I right?”

“Yup,”
 
Jerome snorts, “Now go make sure we have enough beer for the end of the world, bitch.”

Bud heads for the door and says, “I’m gonna go see if I can catch Leon. He’ll take this shit seriously.”

As luck would have it, Leon hasn’t made it far at all. Bud walks a few steps, his arm above his face to shield it from the sun. He spots Leon at the far end of the parking lot talking to a streetlight pole covered in multicolored flyers. Bud quickens his step and walks up behind Leon.

Leon is smiling like a fool, his hand gently rubbing the smooth metal pole, as Bud walks into his line of sight.

“Bud,”
 
Leon says and then points to the light pole, “Bukkake forgive banghole, Martha.”

“Leon,”
 
Bud asks in a soft voice, “Are you telling me this light post is a girl named Martha?”
 
 

Leon tilts his head just a little so he can get a good look at the ultra-hot woman in the neon jumpsuit. She is way tal
ler than Leon, and she is crack-
head skinny just like Leon likes them. At least half a dozen tiny breasts bulge out from different parts of her jumpsuit. He just wants to peel off her skintight jumpsuit and kiss every pert titty she has. He imagines fucking her right there in the parking lot. He sees himself with a tit in both hands and one in his mouth, and then he kicks off both work boots so he can reach more nipples with his toes.

Bud says, “Leon,”
 
and Leon imagines Bud standing by as he bangs his tall skinny multi-breasted girlfriend. Bud grabs Leon by the shoulders and gives him a shake.

“This is a light post, Leon, not a girl.”

“Rim job, Bud, sanctify rim job,”
 
Leon tells his friend, fully intending to say “Whatever, Bud, what the fuck ever.”

“Are you going to the church?”
 
Bud asks, tugging Leon away from the light pole.

“Sluts,”
 
Leon nods as he gives Martha one last smack on her ultra-firm ass.

“Would you like a ride, Leon?”

“Sluts,”
 
Leon nods, “and Jesus, Bud.”

“Sluts and Jesus, indeed, Leon,”
 
Bud says as he points Leon toward his rusted gray pickup.

Bud opens the passenger-side door, and Leon climbs in. Leon settles back and marvels at all the shiny knobs and switches across the control panel. All the blinking and pulsing lights make him dizzy, but he smiles and tells Bud, “Whoa, bastard have butt plug,”
 
which translates to “Whoa, nice spaceship.”

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