| Powder Monkey July 2010 |
Short Story #4
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| You Send Me Those? by Tony Rivari |
Smoke filled the room to the point nothing could be seen,
“What the hell you doing?” Ward screamed as he waved his hands.
Slowly the smoke began to dissipate.
“I’m making an entrance. One worthy of my status.” Screamed the huge
red horned guy. “Listen. We’re going to have a - ”
“Screw your status. We ain’t doing shit. You pop in uninvited, fill the place
with smelly smoke and start demanding. Who the hell do you think you are?
Crap, don’t answer that. What you’re doing is leaving. And now. That’s a great
show and you nor any of your funkies are going to ruin it. Now get before I ruin
your day.” Ward waved again to help hurry the smoke’s removal.
“You can’t hurt me.” Red defiantly snapped.
Ward pushed his face right up to red’s. “Neither of us can hurt the other.
But I like hell better than you like heaven. Maybe we can start with a several
arm fulls of kittens.”
“CATS! YOU ASSHOLE!”
Ward smiled as Shelly spoke.
“Hon, is that the . . .”
“Thinks he is.”
“Think I am? Listen junior. You got some explaining to do.” The roar
shook the house.
“I don’t explain anything I do. Don’t have to. But, I’ll be nice and humor
you. What’s got your horns on backward?”
“That last bunch you send me. I’m sending them back. Pete will cause all
type of headaches if I take in anyone who’s not a true creep.”
With an obvious look of confusing Ward simply asked, “Why? They’re
jerks. They deserved you.”
“No they’re not. Okay I’ll just send them straight to Pete.”
Again Ward looked puzzled. “What the hell you talking about? Look at
their record. They’re clearly your type, rotten to the core.”
Now it was the red guy’s turn to look befuddled. “What record?”
Ward snapped his fingers and a laptop computer flew across the room.
“Wait. Hold your horns. You’ll see what I mean.” Ward passed his hand over
the keyboard. Images flashed onto the scream before stopping on the file
Ward wanted. “Welcome to the 21st century, the age of electronics. Now here’
s their records. Don’t you dare tell me they’re nice, clean cut teens.”
For a minute the red guy read the bunch’s files. The more he read the
more he smiled.
“Heavens, they are jerks, big time. How’d we miss that during check-in?”
“Who’s doing your check-ins?”
Red started to say something, but stops. “Awiavie. Ooooh, is he going to
get it.” For a few moments he paced and thought.
“Alright. Looks like my own jerks screwed up. Enjoy your show.”
As big red popped out a large tray of deviled eggs appeared on the
coffee table in front of the couple.
Ward reached over and picked up an egg. After looking it over and
smelling it, he started to eat it.
“Ward. What are you doing? That was made by the Devil.” Shelly was
almost screaming.
“Riiiight.” The egg disappeared into his mouth. “Stop and think. These are
deviled eggs. Who better to make them than the guy they’re named after?
Want one? They’re great.”
“What the hell you doing?” Ward screamed as he waved his hands.
Slowly the smoke began to dissipate.
“I’m making an entrance. One worthy of my status.” Screamed the huge
red horned guy. “Listen. We’re going to have a - ”
“Screw your status. We ain’t doing shit. You pop in uninvited, fill the place
with smelly smoke and start demanding. Who the hell do you think you are?
Crap, don’t answer that. What you’re doing is leaving. And now. That’s a great
show and you nor any of your funkies are going to ruin it. Now get before I ruin
your day.” Ward waved again to help hurry the smoke’s removal.
“You can’t hurt me.” Red defiantly snapped.
Ward pushed his face right up to red’s. “Neither of us can hurt the other.
But I like hell better than you like heaven. Maybe we can start with a several
arm fulls of kittens.”
“CATS! YOU ASSHOLE!”
Ward smiled as Shelly spoke.
“Hon, is that the . . .”
“Thinks he is.”
“Think I am? Listen junior. You got some explaining to do.” The roar
shook the house.
“I don’t explain anything I do. Don’t have to. But, I’ll be nice and humor
you. What’s got your horns on backward?”
“That last bunch you send me. I’m sending them back. Pete will cause all
type of headaches if I take in anyone who’s not a true creep.”
With an obvious look of confusing Ward simply asked, “Why? They’re
jerks. They deserved you.”
“No they’re not. Okay I’ll just send them straight to Pete.”
Again Ward looked puzzled. “What the hell you talking about? Look at
their record. They’re clearly your type, rotten to the core.”
Now it was the red guy’s turn to look befuddled. “What record?”
Ward snapped his fingers and a laptop computer flew across the room.
“Wait. Hold your horns. You’ll see what I mean.” Ward passed his hand over
the keyboard. Images flashed onto the scream before stopping on the file
Ward wanted. “Welcome to the 21st century, the age of electronics. Now here’
s their records. Don’t you dare tell me they’re nice, clean cut teens.”
For a minute the red guy read the bunch’s files. The more he read the
more he smiled.
“Heavens, they are jerks, big time. How’d we miss that during check-in?”
“Who’s doing your check-ins?”
Red started to say something, but stops. “Awiavie. Ooooh, is he going to
get it.” For a few moments he paced and thought.
“Alright. Looks like my own jerks screwed up. Enjoy your show.”
As big red popped out a large tray of deviled eggs appeared on the
coffee table in front of the couple.
Ward reached over and picked up an egg. After looking it over and
smelling it, he started to eat it.
“Ward. What are you doing? That was made by the Devil.” Shelly was
almost screaming.
“Riiiight.” The egg disappeared into his mouth. “Stop and think. These are
deviled eggs. Who better to make them than the guy they’re named after?
Want one? They’re great.”