I don't usually post works-in-progress, but I was feeling lazy, and not inspired enough to carry this through to a conclusion. So maybe you will like it. Next installment? Who knows?
"Fuck you, you lyin' bitch."
"Forget it, Nino, you know there is no chance of that train passing your way ever again."
"Fuck you with a rusty pipe, then, whatever. You might have been the worst lay ever, but it is not worth the heartbeats to Google it to be sure."
"Look, you asshole, I am just asking you to do the right thing. Is that so hard for you to comprehend?"
"Fuck you again, Aracelis, but this time with a bigger rusty pipe. God knows there's got to be plenty of room in there, in that thing."
"You are impossible."
"And impassible, bitch. So hang up and leave me the fuck alone."
"Look, motherfucker, these taxes are your obligation. Yours. And if you don't pay them, you will fuck up my life big time."
"Yeah, okay, so what's the downside?"
"The downside is that I file a lawsuit against your ass, dickwad. And extract it from you in the most painful way possible."
"Sorry, you did that shit already when we were married. I still can't believe that I ever put my dick in there with all those rats crawlin' around."
"Fuck you, you micro-dick asshole."
"Oh right, you want to negotiate, and that worn out thing you call a pussy is now on the table? Hey, ya know what? I am fucking leavin' the table as long as that skanky shit is sitting there. Buh-bye."
"No fuckin' way 'buh-bye' shithead. Imma come up there and serve you with the fuckin' papers myself."
"Celi, know this, and know it well: as I have said before, if I ever see you again, I will be forced to kill you, on sight. I will not be able to do otherwise. It is a pledge that I made with myself when you deserted me, and it cannot be broken. So if you are stupid enough to come, then you are ready to die, bitch. Okay?"
[to be continued]
September 28, 2009. Copyright © Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.
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