Worst. Person. Ever. (31 page)

Okay, so there I was in the tengy, but at first, because it was dark out, I couldn’t tell whose body parts were rubbing me—but isn’t exploration a big part of the charm? Then, in light from one of several tiki torches lit over by the infinity pool, I saw what were possibly the most melon-like breasts of my life, coming towards me in a trajectory of unmistakable lust, and I thought, “Life is good, isn’t it, Ray?” at which point my lower abdomen cramped like a Ford Fiesta slamming into a brick wall. Mother of God, the pain! I rolled over and went fetal in the hope that it was a one-off sensation, but then I cramped again and realized that my last flush was, actually, not
the
Last Flush. I ran back to the throne with no time to spare and proceeded to fire shit out my arse like a space cruiser entering hyperspace, all the while listening to the moaning, simpering, taunting soundtrack of Thong Kong.

Fucking hell.

After I emptied my thruster of all remaining fuel, I ran out onto the lawn to enter what was, by that point, a fifteengy. Then a woman’s voice (Who? No idea) said, “Uh, uh-
uhhh
 … rules are you have to wash your winky before entering the fun. Pool’s over there.”

I am not an unreasonable man, and could, in fact, understand why a bit of hygiene might make the world a better place. So I scampered over to the infinity pool, hopped in and gave myself a Puerto Rican enema, then ran back to the cluster, by then a twentygy.

I heard another woman’s voice—it was Tabs!—saying, “Hi, Raymond. The girls and I have all decided that we are going to collectively give you the most intense
hours of sex ever imagined in the history of humanity. Right, girls?”

Giggles and taunts of
What are we waiting for, then?

Tabs led me over to the sacred rock, which was now covered with a foam mattress. Around it, vanilla-scented tea candles had been arranged, and there was also a towel to the right on which were laid out anal beads, a buggy whip and a selection of masks, feathers and silk scarves of just the right length for binding limbs.

Tabs said, “Lie down, Raymond, and get ready for ultimate tantric pleasure.”

I thought my brain was going to explode. Tabs and ten other women formed a circle around me, and Tabs said, “Let the massage begin.”

Dear God, it began, and it was heaven.

Ahhh …

Yes …

Mmmm. Perfect.

The smell of Naugahyde.

Something musky …

Ahhh …

I heard a large crunching noise. What the fuck? I looked up, and behind Tabs loomed Mother, wearing her hideous tarpaulin-like underwear. Her face was blank as she ate cheddar cheese crisps, one by one, taking time to lick her fingers thoroughly after each one. She caught me staring.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just watching. Raymond? Is that you in there? Dear God!”

She approached the rock and inserted herself into my coven of erotic masseuses. Her repulsive Toby mug face. Her skin—oh God, it was the most disgusting thing I’d
ever seen—like folds of vanilla cake batter dotted with the occasional chocolate chip and raisin. Colourless. Dead. Life-sucking.

“Mother, what the fuck!”

“I haven’t seen your willy, Raymond, since I caught you wanking in the loo at Sheila’s abortion party.”

“Get the fuck out of here!”

“No need to take that tone with me, son. Last time I looked, this was a free island.”

My dick shrank to the size of a raisin, and my reptile cortex yanked my balls deep inside me. The girls were giggling now, and the mood was totally shattered.

“Okay, Raymond, don’t worry,” Mother said. “I’m a modern woman. You girls go right ahead and pleasure my son. You just pretend I’m not here, even though I am.” She looked into her left bra cup. “Fucking hell, I’m out of crisps.”

With as much dignity as I could muster, I grabbed my pile of scarecrow togs and scuttled along the trail to where the
Zodiac was stashed. I was feeling sorry for myself, which is something I almost never do.

How much time had passed since Thong Kong had arrived? An hour? Two? Christ, I hadn’t even bothered to think about everyone at the Zodiac, waiting for me, wondering what was going on. Well, fuck ’em. I hoped they’d waited.

I was just about to start snivelling when I heard my name. “Raymond?”

I froze.

A woman’s voice. “Raymond!” she called again.

“Yes?”

From behind a coconut shrub emerged Sarah—Sarah! “Raymond, are you alone?”

I looked around me. “Ummm, yes. Yes, I am.”

She grabbed hold of me and gave me a massive, tongue-filled kiss. When she pulled away, she looked me deeply in the eyes and said, “I’ve got it all figured out.”

“What?”

“Our plan.”

“
Our
plan?”

“Yes, you silly goose,
our
plan.”

Our
plan?

Skyrockets!

Roman candles!

Confetti!

Lots of people in ethnic garb dancing!

Cumshot compilations!

So
this
was what love felt like. Nothing else felt like it. Nothing. Not even the week-long coke binge Fi and I did at some record producer’s compound in Honduras.

There, on that lonely path in the middle of the Pacific
Ocean, Sarah could have commanded me to die on a battlefield, but such is love: Sarah’s wish was my command.

“I’ve got a Zodiac,” she said, “and enough Spam to last us a year.”

I was speechless.

“I’ve also brought along ten hot pieces of swimwear
and
my entire lingerie collection.”

All I could muster was a noise like randomly typed letters on a keyboard: “
Bfnlhfliahelf fhslfv dsfhelfel.
”

“Oh, you silly thing. Let’s hurry. The others will figure this out soon enough. The boat’s down here.” She pulled me towards a path that led in a different direction from where Neal and I had our Zodiac stashed. So this was the moment of choice; one of life’s literal forks in the road.

“Raymond?”

“
Nvnd phwqpg pgeh eljfdl.
”

“You feel for me the way I feel for you, Raymond, right?”

“
Mfbrigueobf.
” I slowed down a little and managed, “Of course.”

“Then let your heart be your guide.”

I followed her down her path, my pulse beating so forcefully that my head felt like a tom-tom. When we reached the water, Sarah said, “Think of it as
The Love Boat
, Raymond—just you and me.”

There was precious little Spam in the boat. “Are you sure this is enough for a year, Sarah?”

She was undoing some ropes. “You silly! This is but a fraction of it. I’ve been stockpiling our island hideaway all week. It’s like a supermarket. You’ll see.”

I was just about to hop in when I heard, “Goodbye, then, Raymond.”

Neal’s voice. I froze.

“Don’t worry, Ray. I’m not going to stop you.”

“It’s not what it looks like, Neal.”

“Raymond, I’m on your side here.”

“Meaning?”

“I want you to be happy with Sarah.”

“What about Fiona and my …” The word did not come naturally to me. “…  kids?”

“Fi’s pissed off, but she’ll survive. She has to keep her language clean because of the wee ones. It’s funny, actually.”

I was once again speechless.

“Before you go, I want to give you two things, Ray.”

I was feeling a bit wary now.

“First of all, the Cure T-shirt.” He pulled it over his head and held it out. “You deserve it. Not just because you found it to begin with, making it technically yours, but because you have my respect, Ray. This is my way of showing it.”

“I—I have your respect?”

“Yes, you do. And here’s one more thing.” He reached into his pocket and removed something red. The piece of red plastic. “It wasn’t really stuck up my arse all week. I’ve been carving it into a gift I wanted you to have for rescuing me and giving me one of the most exciting lives a man can lead.” He handed it over. God bless him. From the piece of red plastic, he’d carved me my own knoon.

Dawn was rising as Sarah and I pulled the boat into a tiny cove protected by a sandbar. Passing by, you’d never know the island was there; a genius location, lost to the world. I saw a thousand minnows in the water as we pulled up on the white coral sand beach. Sarah tied the boat to some sort of gnarled saltwater tree thingy and said, “Come here, Raymond—let me show you our new home.”

She held my hand and we walked through flowers and coconut shrubs and came to a sensational ultra-high-tech tent like the kind you’d use on the moon.

“It’s fucking beautiful,” I said.

“Isn’t it? And out back …” Holding my hand, she brought me around behind the tent, where three sub-tents were set up. “We have Spam, water, fuel and every other sort of supply you can imagine.”

“Sarah, I am in awe. How did you manage to get all this out here?”

“You’ve noticed I’ve not been around much the past few days, right?”

“Well, yes. But I thought it was just that you and Stuart were screwing each other’s brains … I mean, that you were having private time together.”

“Nonsense. Stuart’s a workaholic. But because he’s high enough up the food chain, nobody questions me about anything, so I can do whatever I want. Now let’s go and …” She became coy and took my hand, and we scampered to some blankets spread before a fire that was ready to light. There was a silver bucket with a bottle of bubbly and some fresh fruit and cheeses. She knelt and put a match to the kindling.
Whoosh.

“Sarah, this is heaven!”

“I’m so glad we’re finally together. Since the moment we met, I’ve been dreaming of this.” She pulled me down onto the blankets, and we began to make out like teenagers. And sometime during all this foreplay, a little voice ran through my mind—it was my voice, of course, but one I don’t use too often. It was my
nice
voice, and it said,
Well, Raymond, good things come to all good people who wait. You’ve got your Cure T-shirt and a custom-carved red plastic knoon. You’ve got a year’s supply of Spam and booze, and you’ve got Sarah. Life doesn’t get better than this, Ray, it really doesn’t—so enjoy it all!

I was enjoying it, by God, and we finally got down to the real business there on the blankets. Sarah’s singlet was gone and then her bikini top and then her pants. I could barely keep myself together.

Wait—was I hallucinating?

Wait—what the hell?

Wait—
what the fuck?

I jumped back about five feet, and a pickaxe of pain dug into my forehead and skull. I felt like I was burning
up. Sarah looked at me, giggled and said, “Now, Raymond, are you telling me that nobody told you … that you didn’t know?”

“I … I … I …”

“Oh, Raymond, this is truly, truly funny. You mean you really didn’t know that I’m a man?”

“I figured you’d probably be out here.”

“Yes, well, whatever.”

Fiona was in the Zodiac on the foaming sea, along with Kyle and Emma, both of whom were delighted to find me perched on a coral cluster on the north side of Sarah’s island. The kids obviously had no clue of what had happened to me and, with Fiona in charge, most likely never would.

Emma shouted, “Come for a ride, Dad! It’s so much fun!”

Kyle added, “We’ve seen a barracuda and everything.”

Fi looked at me pointedly. “Seen any barracudas lately, Raymond?”

“
Fu
—ha, ha, ha.”

“I’ve made sandwiches,” Emma cajoled. “And we have some delicious lemonade. It’s a sea picnic. Climb in, Dad.”

“You may as well get in the boat, Raymond,” Fiona offered.

Bloated hag.
“Well, okay.”

I climbed in and Kyle asked, “What’s that amulet you have around your neck?” He was referring to the knoon, which I had made into an amulet with a piece of nylon netting I found snagged on the coral. “Can I see it?”

I handed it to Kyle. Meanwhile, Fiona was her usual bullying self. “Raymond, you take that Cure T-shirt off right now and put it on top of your head. Your scalp’s so red you look like a preemie baby.”