Sadistic Bastard
No Mercy
Because we don't have a "writer's" forum anymore.
Not Smut
____________________________________________________________
Back to my Ozark Roots.
Well...foothills of the Ozarks...which really are kinda foothills in themselves, maybe they were Mountains when Herds of Triceratops were roaming around, being eaten by Raquel Welch. That was a long time ago.
But By God and stupidity, these were part of the Ozarks. The town was too small for a McDonalds, but we had a Catfish Country and the Four Star Bar. Who knew that someday it would be submerged by the rising tide of Yuppiedom as the Big City spread west like a former Ms. America on too many carbs...
But that was all in the past...and in the future...for now, it's 10 days after High School Graduation, the parties are done, the shake-up of sweethearts that pledged eternal love and faithfulness at the prom (which turned out that Eternity lasts about two weeks if they got laid) had occurred, and all that was left in the small town was wild young boys in rusty, old, high powered cars, looking for wild young girls who liked the same. Rusty old cars that is, most of them had enough of the wild young boys, but the alternatives were pretty slim, and this was before the internet so there wasn't much chance of finding a sugar daddy.
None of this ran through my head, of course, I had a rusty, old, high powered car, and a girlfriend who I did NOT take to the prom, so we were still "solid"...as long as she didn't go to Indianapolis with that scum bag Jeff who I knew had been wanting to get into her drawers (and probably had but I couldn't prove it...and she still slept with me so all was forgiven. "Just good friends" my ass!). The rust and the Old-ness of the car were, of course, intentional on my part. Intentional because I didn't have any money, so I contented myself with adding more black primer to the rust spots and claiming that it was all for the sake of lulling my opponents into a false sense of security. And besides, anything that rusted through and fell off of the car was a weight savings! I was on the prowl, in my "sleeper", the mufflers doing nothing to quiet the engine, the only thing shiny in the entire car. My sweet, innocent, slightly slutty girlfriend in the back, with her sweet, innocent, and really much more slutty best friend next to her (but her best friend and I were "Just Good Friends".). The trouble started when "Nobber" Jones and his POS Chevelle ran by. Now maybe his tranny was slipping, or maybe he really did "Rev" me, but I heard his 327 raise a challenge in RPM's, and in town or not my Cleveland wasn't going to stand for it. I dropped a gear, the girls went flying (interrupting their conversation), and the race was on. I caught him napping, that slipping tranny of his not reacting, my 4 speed was more positive. Maybe he wasn't trying to race before, but I heard him get on it. Jousting knights had nothing on us, because we were obviously doing this for the Favor of a Lady. The ladies in question were untangling themselves from the back seat, and Nobber's fiance (who was reportedly even sluttier than my girfriend's best friend) was in his passenger's seat yelling at him to slow the Fuck Down (always a lady, she was) because she had nearly poked her own eye out doing her lashes. The better to bat at me, no doubt!
We were rapidly running out of road. Well, there was road, but beyond the apathetic light in front of the volunteer fire station, it switched back to two lanes. I was ahead, but if I cut over, I might cause Nobber to have to swerve or something, We all spent our money on brand new carbs, headders, cams....the brakes were all re-built and the cheapest asbestos pads we could find. I trusted them about as much as I trusted Jeff alone with my GF, and they were about as reliable (someone WILL get screwed....). So I backed off. Now there had been this sort of....noise...during the assertion of Dominance on my part. I had ignored it, it was coming from BEHIND me...and anything BEHIND me didn't matter at times like this. But suddenly, with the engine quieter (and Nobber passing me), the Noise became recognizable. It was female in pitch. Something about "Asshole"...yes....that was it. The exact meaning became clear as I watched the POS Chevelle pass and slow in front of me too..."Slow Down, Asshole". Ahh, she was using that term of endearment. I responded with a warm "Shut up, I'm trying to drive."
Nobber's Ass-In-The-Air, POS Chevelle made a U-turn, and then pulled into the hardware store parking lot. I pulled in behind him. Nobber jumped out of his car, through his window (he had half installed a roll cage and welded his driver's door shut, but not his passenger's door because his Fiance wouldn't be able to wear her trademark "So short it's a Belt" skirts if she had to crawl in through the window), and then his 6 foot +, bean pole height drew up over me. I casually opened the door, and grinned at him.
"Beat you again, Nobber", I said, gracious in Victory as always.
"Bullshit, my tranny's slipping" he replied. It was always so hard when they didn't acknowledge a proper drubbing.
While the Dominance Displays began, all three of the girls (One in her "So short it's a belt" trashy skirt, one in her "Not quite that short, but I'm not wearing underwear" moderately trashy skirt, and the third in "Jeans so tight that I haven't inhaled in hours") were chatting. And in retrospect, that was our mistake. Never take your eyes off of the wimmin. It's just asking for trouble.
While I went on about the virtues of my Ford vs. Nobber's Chevy, Amy pulled up into the parking lot. Amy was probably gay, her hair was short and she had big hands...but she was also cute. And she had been the "tom boy" in the auto shop class, the only female but we forgot that fact frequently when her breasts didn't get into the way. Her Monty Carlo got respect...well...I'd beat her (she claimed she wasn't ready). Sadly, Nobber's 327 and my 351 were smaller than her 454. It always bothered us that Her's was bigger than Ours. Amy was invisible. Well, Amy was, her Breasts and her Car were often seen, but the rest of her was "just one of the guys".
She told me she's smelled burning transmission (Nobber's trade mark) and hot clutch (My trade mark) and wanted to see what was up. The girls hustled Amy aside. I resumed my verbal strutting in front of Nobber. Amy would, no doubt, be impressed. What the wimmin talked about was of no concern, no doubt they were extolling the Virtues of our Huge Displacement to Amy.
As Nobber and I wound down about the "race", we started discussing if I would help him drop his transmission (after all, we WERE friends) and then he'd be up for a REAL race, when we heard the Monty Carlo rumble to life. Rumble to life...with four women in it.
"Bye Bye Boys!" Amy yelled as she jumped on it, the big car doing a posi step to the right, then torching the retreads she used and laying about 100 feet of rubber as she managed to pull it perfectly onto the main drag and vanished. Vanished with OUR girfriend/fiance/Just a Really Good Friend.
10 seconds later, Officer Brown showed up, took one sniff of the smell of burning rubber and looked at Nobber and I.
"Was there a little Crime here, boys?" he asked.
All the two of us could answer was "Yes officer, I think she stole our women...."
-SB
Not Smut
____________________________________________________________
Back to my Ozark Roots.
Well...foothills of the Ozarks...which really are kinda foothills in themselves, maybe they were Mountains when Herds of Triceratops were roaming around, being eaten by Raquel Welch. That was a long time ago.
But By God and stupidity, these were part of the Ozarks. The town was too small for a McDonalds, but we had a Catfish Country and the Four Star Bar. Who knew that someday it would be submerged by the rising tide of Yuppiedom as the Big City spread west like a former Ms. America on too many carbs...
But that was all in the past...and in the future...for now, it's 10 days after High School Graduation, the parties are done, the shake-up of sweethearts that pledged eternal love and faithfulness at the prom (which turned out that Eternity lasts about two weeks if they got laid) had occurred, and all that was left in the small town was wild young boys in rusty, old, high powered cars, looking for wild young girls who liked the same. Rusty old cars that is, most of them had enough of the wild young boys, but the alternatives were pretty slim, and this was before the internet so there wasn't much chance of finding a sugar daddy.
None of this ran through my head, of course, I had a rusty, old, high powered car, and a girlfriend who I did NOT take to the prom, so we were still "solid"...as long as she didn't go to Indianapolis with that scum bag Jeff who I knew had been wanting to get into her drawers (and probably had but I couldn't prove it...and she still slept with me so all was forgiven. "Just good friends" my ass!). The rust and the Old-ness of the car were, of course, intentional on my part. Intentional because I didn't have any money, so I contented myself with adding more black primer to the rust spots and claiming that it was all for the sake of lulling my opponents into a false sense of security. And besides, anything that rusted through and fell off of the car was a weight savings! I was on the prowl, in my "sleeper", the mufflers doing nothing to quiet the engine, the only thing shiny in the entire car. My sweet, innocent, slightly slutty girlfriend in the back, with her sweet, innocent, and really much more slutty best friend next to her (but her best friend and I were "Just Good Friends".). The trouble started when "Nobber" Jones and his POS Chevelle ran by. Now maybe his tranny was slipping, or maybe he really did "Rev" me, but I heard his 327 raise a challenge in RPM's, and in town or not my Cleveland wasn't going to stand for it. I dropped a gear, the girls went flying (interrupting their conversation), and the race was on. I caught him napping, that slipping tranny of his not reacting, my 4 speed was more positive. Maybe he wasn't trying to race before, but I heard him get on it. Jousting knights had nothing on us, because we were obviously doing this for the Favor of a Lady. The ladies in question were untangling themselves from the back seat, and Nobber's fiance (who was reportedly even sluttier than my girfriend's best friend) was in his passenger's seat yelling at him to slow the Fuck Down (always a lady, she was) because she had nearly poked her own eye out doing her lashes. The better to bat at me, no doubt!
We were rapidly running out of road. Well, there was road, but beyond the apathetic light in front of the volunteer fire station, it switched back to two lanes. I was ahead, but if I cut over, I might cause Nobber to have to swerve or something, We all spent our money on brand new carbs, headders, cams....the brakes were all re-built and the cheapest asbestos pads we could find. I trusted them about as much as I trusted Jeff alone with my GF, and they were about as reliable (someone WILL get screwed....). So I backed off. Now there had been this sort of....noise...during the assertion of Dominance on my part. I had ignored it, it was coming from BEHIND me...and anything BEHIND me didn't matter at times like this. But suddenly, with the engine quieter (and Nobber passing me), the Noise became recognizable. It was female in pitch. Something about "Asshole"...yes....that was it. The exact meaning became clear as I watched the POS Chevelle pass and slow in front of me too..."Slow Down, Asshole". Ahh, she was using that term of endearment. I responded with a warm "Shut up, I'm trying to drive."
Nobber's Ass-In-The-Air, POS Chevelle made a U-turn, and then pulled into the hardware store parking lot. I pulled in behind him. Nobber jumped out of his car, through his window (he had half installed a roll cage and welded his driver's door shut, but not his passenger's door because his Fiance wouldn't be able to wear her trademark "So short it's a Belt" skirts if she had to crawl in through the window), and then his 6 foot +, bean pole height drew up over me. I casually opened the door, and grinned at him.
"Beat you again, Nobber", I said, gracious in Victory as always.
"Bullshit, my tranny's slipping" he replied. It was always so hard when they didn't acknowledge a proper drubbing.
While the Dominance Displays began, all three of the girls (One in her "So short it's a belt" trashy skirt, one in her "Not quite that short, but I'm not wearing underwear" moderately trashy skirt, and the third in "Jeans so tight that I haven't inhaled in hours") were chatting. And in retrospect, that was our mistake. Never take your eyes off of the wimmin. It's just asking for trouble.
While I went on about the virtues of my Ford vs. Nobber's Chevy, Amy pulled up into the parking lot. Amy was probably gay, her hair was short and she had big hands...but she was also cute. And she had been the "tom boy" in the auto shop class, the only female but we forgot that fact frequently when her breasts didn't get into the way. Her Monty Carlo got respect...well...I'd beat her (she claimed she wasn't ready). Sadly, Nobber's 327 and my 351 were smaller than her 454. It always bothered us that Her's was bigger than Ours. Amy was invisible. Well, Amy was, her Breasts and her Car were often seen, but the rest of her was "just one of the guys".
She told me she's smelled burning transmission (Nobber's trade mark) and hot clutch (My trade mark) and wanted to see what was up. The girls hustled Amy aside. I resumed my verbal strutting in front of Nobber. Amy would, no doubt, be impressed. What the wimmin talked about was of no concern, no doubt they were extolling the Virtues of our Huge Displacement to Amy.
As Nobber and I wound down about the "race", we started discussing if I would help him drop his transmission (after all, we WERE friends) and then he'd be up for a REAL race, when we heard the Monty Carlo rumble to life. Rumble to life...with four women in it.
"Bye Bye Boys!" Amy yelled as she jumped on it, the big car doing a posi step to the right, then torching the retreads she used and laying about 100 feet of rubber as she managed to pull it perfectly onto the main drag and vanished. Vanished with OUR girfriend/fiance/Just a Really Good Friend.
10 seconds later, Officer Brown showed up, took one sniff of the smell of burning rubber and looked at Nobber and I.
"Was there a little Crime here, boys?" he asked.
All the two of us could answer was "Yes officer, I think she stole our women...."
-SB
