Thursday, September 10, 2009

At Marie’s (6)

JJ was fresh out of clever shit talk. He bounced on his feet, and his pecs flexed every time his feet hit earth again. “Get up! Fuck. It’s like I’m fightin my 60-year-old gramma.”

“Gramma like –iggo ur mud smuch.”

JJ couldn’t make out the words and bounded up to Chris’s feet. “Whazzat, boss?” With a jolt coming out of nowhere, Chris kicked straight up and smashed JJ’s nads.

“I said, ‘Gramma like kickin yer nuts much?’”

JJ folded in two, yowling. Chris gingerly got up and smashed his elbow between JJ’s shoulder blades, driving the kid to the ground at his feet.

“Don’t be kissin my feet now, bud. Too late.”

He yanked John John up by his hair and left shoulder, then reached down and grabbed the elastic at the back of JJ’s briefs and steadied the guy’s head under his arm … backing up onto the asphalt … backing up … not there yet … backing up some more. Then bending his knees slightly, he scooped JJ up high over his head and landed him on his back on the hood of the already badly dented Ford.

If this were a cartoon, JJ’s dazed, spreadeagle body would have left a perfect mold of itself on the car hood. As it is, the whole hood just buckled up on JJ’s all-but-unconscious figure.

JJ lay dazed in the impression on the car hood. As he groaned, trying to focus, Chris lined up a shot, driving his fist down to John John’s forehead. JJ’s head snapped back, bouncing off the fender, before coming to rest, dangling against the side of the Ford.

JJ”s body slowly slid off the hood, falling next to the car. Chris pulled him up, only to drive him head first into the roof of the car. JJ hit and staggered back, dropping into the bed of a nearby parked truck. Chris followed John John to retrieve him for more punishment.

As Chris neared the truck, JJ mule-kicked backward. His foot drove between Chris thighs and rammed him in the balls. “Aiiiieeeeehhhhhhhh!” Chris let out a squeak as he held his nuts. Chris sank to his knees, his face frozen in agony.

JJ dragged himself off the truck bed, turning to face Chris. He was barely able to keep it together as he swayed back and forth. His face was badly cut and bloodied, and his movements were stiff as he moved after Chris.

(To be continued)

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