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         [  Nicky And The Porn Queen  ]         [  By Rich Logsdon  ]


    ____________________________________________________________________
    ____________________________________________________________________



NICKY AND THE PORN QUEEN


Nicky couldn't stand it. In fact, Nicky the Ghoul was reaching a breaking
point. Ever since his girl Lisa (also a ghoul) had made her debut  in the
adult film Lesbian Vampyres of Sodom, he couldn't go anywhere with her
without  every red-blooded male over twelve years of age obscenely ogling
his girl. Not to the mall. Not to a burger joint. Not even to the fucking
gas station where the morons running the place fell all over themselves
just to pump gas for the woman now known as Lisa Lust.

        Take the ball game at Cashman Field in Las Vegas last June, for
instance. Nicky thought a baseball game would be a perfect escape from the
drooling masses.  Thus, conservatively dressed in grays, browns, and
greens,  like two affluent young Americans, Nicky and Lisa had just sat
down in their seats behind home plate when three pimply-faced adolescent
boys came running over from their seats behind third base and stood not
three feet from the ghoulish duo; the kids were panting like young animals
in heat. Nicky guessed these punks were thirteen or fourteen years old.
        "Oh, wow!" yelled the breathless short overweight kid wearing thick
dark-rimmed glasses and a black T-shirt that had "Ozzie Rules" stenciled in
red across the front. "Are you Lisa Lust? Are ya? Huh?" Nicky thought he
could see this kid's glasses fogging up.
        "I sure am, Sugarboy," mewed Lisa, flattered  almost beyond words
that  she would be recognized even in a minor league baseball park. A
gorgeous woman with shaggy blonde hair, killer blue eyes, and a figure that
would give even the Pope a hard-on, Lisa removed her sun glasses and batted
her eye lashes to give the boy a better look.
        "Lady," exclaimed another of the punks, a middle-sized boy who wore
a blue New York Mets shirt and  whose dark hair had been shaved into a V,
"you were great! Can we have an autograph or something?" The kid rubbed his
crotch.
        "Uh, whaddya mean by 'somethin',' stud?" Lisa coyly cooed. The boy
howled. Breathing deeply to force himself to relax, Nicky closed his eyes
and prayed that these boys would disappear.
         Overwhelmed by her week-old popularity, Lisa smiled, popped her
gum, and asked,  "Whaddya want me to autograph, guys?"  She gave the third
boy, a tall red-head wearing a Chicago Bulls cap and a T-shirt that read
"Nine-Inch Nails," a wink and glanced obviously at the bulge in his pants.
        Nicky had had enough. He stood and removed  his sunglasses. "Would
you three twisted little perverts just get the fuck outa here!" he shouted,
his booming voice carrying across the playing field so that some of the
players warming up on the infield grass paused and looked up.  As the three
kids bolted  like badly frightened rabbits, Nicky puts his hands on his
hips and looked down at Lisa. Lisa was on the verge of tears.
        Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, thought Nicky to himself, here we go again; I
need blood pressure medication or something. "Hey, look Sweetheart," Nicky
began, trying to turn the evening around, "lemme go get us some eats.  Hot
dogs and beer. You like a beer, honey?" Nicky put his face next to Lisa's,
smelled her hair, and kissed his girl on the cheek. He and Lisa drank a lot
of beer when they were alone watching the tube and fucking each other's
brains out.
        But Lisa was not to be moved.  "I don't want nothin'," she sourly
mumbled, folding her arms and sticking out her lower lip, a porn queen
pouting at the ball park.
        What a fucked-up night, thought the ghoul to himself. Wishing that
they had stayed home to watch Home Improvement or even Buffy the Vampire
Slayer, Nicky sighed, ran his fingers through his long, disheveled black
hair, and said, "All right, but I gotta go take a piss."  Nicky hoped that
when he got back,  things would be better.
        When Nicky came back, Lisa was in a better mood, but not because of
him.  When the ghoul returned with two beers, one  for himself and one for
Lisa, he found his seat occupied by a huge middle-aged man with
shoulder-length dirty brown hair, a hairy pock-marked face, tattoos up and
down his arms, and a red and black T-shirt that read "Boob Cruise '96" on
the back. A huge smile on her face,  Lisa was writing something on the back
of this guy's T-shirt. Nicky paused long enough to set the beer down on one
of the concrete steps and decide his next move.  Then he walked up to Lisa
and her new boyfriend  and commanded in a firm voice, "Get lost, old man.
This is my girl."
        Nicky looked down at the big man, hoping this guy wouldn't be
stupid enough to cause trouble.
        "Not no more she ain't, you fuckin' runt, " said the lummox, who
stood, clenched his beefy fists, gritted his teeth, and scowled. Nicky
wondered how many steroids this guy was on.  "This girl's now public
property-or should that be 'pubic' property?" the huge man stated. "She
said I got real nice buns."  The muscular man towered over Nicky and easily
weighed three hundred pounds. A ghoul of medium build but with huge,
muscular arms as well, Nicky ran his fingers through his hair again, looked
out at the flag now blowing east on the wall above center field,  and
wished he were a baseball player instead of the lover of America's newest
porn queen.
        Then, suddenly, Nicky went into action. As she always did when
Nicky fought, Lisa shrieked and laughed simultaneously. It was like a game
to her. It was just as he grabbed the man by the throat and dragged him out
into the aisle like a straw doll that Nicky realized he'd seen this guy on
the wrestling channel.  He was called Pile Driver, one of Nicky all-time
favorites.  And Pile Driver was always one of the good guys. In fact,  next
week on pay-per-view Pile Driver was supposed to  wrestle The Beast for the
championship in a no-holds barred iron-cage match. It was a match Nicky had
looked forward to for a month.
        His rage dissipating,   Nicky  sat on the guy's chest (security
guards madly rushing to the scene of the altercation) and  decided against
crushing his opponent's throat, an easy task for a ghoul who had the
strength of ten men.  He saw that the Pile Driver was already starting to
turn blue.
        "Listen, Pile Driver," Nicky placed his face about an inch from
that of his opponent and rasped in a bestial and guttural voice that
emanated from the core of his black and eternally damned soul, "you big
mound of flesh, you ever fuck with my girl again I'll rip out your tongue
and eyes and shove 'em up your ass. Got it?"
        Terrified, shaking, and sweating,  Pile Driver meekly nodded his
head. Nicky held the man by the throat for a few more minutes until Pile
Driver began to cry.
        When Nicky let him up, Pile Driver whimpered, dried his eyes,
rubbed his  throat, gave the ghoul one last frightened look and sprinted up
the aisle.  The security guards, all overweight retired  men, stood ten
rows up, afraid to approach the ghoul.
        Nicky sat down just as the first pitch was thrown.  Lisa looked
over at him, put her hand between his knees, and squeezed the ghoul's
manhood.  Then, in a tone that said "Oh, honey, I wish you could fuck me
now," she purred  "You're so brave and tough, Nicky. I just love it when
you scare the shit outa people like that."
        "Lisa, honey," Nicky responded in the sweetest, most charming voice
he could muster, "just shut the fuck up and drink your beer."
        Things were not to get better for Lisa and Nicky as Lisa's fame
spread like a wild fire. Again, take the now famous Southern Utah incident,
which occurred about three weeks after the ball game. Like Christ escaping
the masses, Nicky, Lisa and their best friend Alex the Werewolf had decided
to drive up to Southern Utah during the middle of the week, do some
fishing, and maybe even take in some  Shakespeare, whose plays were
performed annually every summer in Cedar City. Alex would drive his
Plymouth '76 convertible and play Big Band music all the way from Vegas.
        It was late July, a full-moon night. The three arrived in
Otter-sixty miles north of Cedar City--around 2:00 in the afternoon,
checked into the old Stag Motel, and kicked back in their room, watching
Gilligan's Island, McHale's Navy, and Leave It to Beaver reruns, until
about nine PM when Alex suggested they get a bite to eat.
        In a good mood, they walked down Main to a restaurant called El
Bambi, the building worn and dilapidated on the outside and on the inside
one of the dirtiest restaurants any of them had ever seen. The tables were
sticky, the silverware dirty, and bits of food littered the faded red
carpet. It was enough to make a ghoul sick. Nicky sat next to Alex and
across from Lisa  in a cherry-red upholstered booth  right next to the
entrance.  A thin bespectacled intellectual type with light brown hair, a
beard and a mustache, Alex was getting buzzed  drinking coffee and
excitedly explaining to Lisa Michel Foucault's theories of prisons as they
applied to the development of restrictive systems of Western thought.
Fascinated, Lisa occasionally exclaimed things like "Wow, Alex!" and "I
didn't know that!" and "Huh??" As Alex droned on,  Nicky worked on his
second Bambi's Double Deluxe Cheeseburger and  selected a couple of
favorite pieces from the small jukebox: Nazareth's "Love Hurts" and
Boston's "Foreplay."
        Ignoring most of what Alex said and listening to the music, Nicky
was now silently blaming himself for Lisa's incredible rise in popularity
among American males.  It was like he was losing his girl. Certainly, the
blonde ditz sitting across from him wasn't the same old Lisa he had met at
the Fourteenth Annual Southern Nevada Blood Feast years ago.  In fact,
thinking back over the past year and a half as he put his fourth  bottle of
Wolf's Head beer to his lips, he wished he'd never, never encouraged Lisa
to try her wings in the porn business.  On the advice of Lisa's therapist,
who claimed that Lisa had rock-bottom self-esteem, Nicky had contacted an
old friend and gotten his girl involved in the adult film industry.
        Drinking his beer, tuning out Alex,  and studying his girlfriend's
half-exposed and very large tits as she ate her lamb chops, Nicky recalled
that five months after journeying to Tahiti to  make  Lesbian Vampyres of
Sodom with Ricky Studd, Lisa's film had been released to theaters and book
stores around the country.  For the first few days after the film's
release, Nicky was actually happy for Lisa: Lisa could go nowhere without
twenty or thirty people recognizing her; her mood notably brightened. But
things got out of hand.  There was the ball game, for instance, when Nicky
had nearly taken the life of his favorite wrestler.  Then there was an ugly
incident at the college involving one of Lisa's male professors, who
claimed that his interest in porn stars was entirely academic.   There was
a bloody altercation with a softball team in Denny's parking lot late one
night when he, Alex and Lisa had gone out to get something to eat. And sure
as shit, something was going to happen tonight. Nicky could feel it in his
bones.
        Indeed, El Bambi was the sort of place where trouble always
occurred.    Located in the middle of some of the richest farm land in the
Southwest, the dark, dinghy little dive seemed to attract everything that
crept and crawled through the desert night.
        For example, in the next booth behind them Nicky noticed a young
lady wearing a sexy black dress that reached to just below the crotch. With
wild raven hair and a ton of mascara around her eyes, the lady had
unbuttoned the dress down to her belly button. Nicky could even see her
nipples. She wore black fish-net stockings and probably nothing else
underneath.  Nothing like advertising, Nicky thought to himself, sure that
he had seen the prostitute in Vegas.
        At a  booth just across from theirs sat  four young men, early
twenties Nicky guessed, all dressed in black, hair dyed black, their faces
pale as death,  sitting upright, coked to the gills, and  mumbling and
laughing together. A group of Satanists, most likely, out for a good time
in Southern Utah.  They couldn't take their eyes off Lisa.  Nicky knew
these guys recognized Lisa Lust.
        Finally, in a booth in the back of the room sat three  men, all
sporting scruffy beards and wearing baseball caps.  For twenty minutes,
these yokels had silently, unceasingly gawked at his girl. Obviously, they
too had recognized Lisa. Dressed in dirty jeans, flannel shirts,  and black
work boots, these three clowns continued to drink their beer and stare and
point at Lisa, occasionally letting out a wolf-whistle. When Lisa  turned
around, one of the men--a balding fellow with fat cheeks and a huge golden
toothpick hanging from his mouth--stuck out and wriggled his tongue
obscenely at her.
        "Hey, Nicky," Lisa  exclaimed excitedly, turning around and cutting
Alex off in mid-sentence (Alex was explaining Stanley's Fish's theories
regarding reader-response criticism)...  "Hey, Nick, diddya see what that
one guy just done? Funny, huh? They gotta know who I am."
        Of course the ghoul had seen it. No, it wasn't funny. And everyone
seemed to know who Lisa was; therein lay the problem. "Don't worry about
it," Nicky  said coldly, taking a huge bite out of his burger. "You ignore
them, they ignore you. They're dumb fucks. That's the way it's gotta work."
Nicky was getting sick of this shit.
        Unable to resist, however, Lisa looked around again.  This time,
both the bald man and the small, thin man with a graying crew cut made the
same obscene gesture towards Lisa with their tongues.
        "Oooohhh, nasty, nasty  boys," Lisa said in a whiny playful  voice
loud enough to be heard all the way to the back of the restaurant. Then, to
Nicky's outrage, the giggling Lisa blew the three men a kiss.
        "Oh, Christ," muttered Nicky,  tossing his hamburger down on his
plate as he watched the three  men get up from their table, smile, and
hitch their jeans.  Hands shoved deep into their pockets, the men slowly
sauntered over, bringing the unmistakable odor of pig shit with them.
        The biggest of the three weighed close to three hundred pounds, had
dark blonde curly hair and  resembled John Goodman.  He wore a blue hat
that said "Earl" in bright yellow letters.
        "Well, well, well, what we got here, Phil?" Earl asked to one of
the men, moving closer to Lisa and putting his hand on her shoulder.
        "Looks to me like we  got ourselves some ass tonight, Earl. Some
honest-to-God poontang," answered the small man, who eyed Nicky
maliciously.          "Hello, Lisa Lust," he said.
        "Hello, boys," said Lisa, flattered.
         As Nicky  waited for the event to unfold, Alex put his book down
onto the table, removed his glasses, and said to the three men, "Pardon me
for being so terribly rude, but we three were just passing through, really,
minding our own business.  You really have no right to so rudely interrupt
us.  I assure you, we shall be done in a jiff and then we'll be out of
here.   Flash. Bang. Gone. Now please go away." Nicky picked up his
hamburger and gave it an enormous bite.
        "Ain't no one goin' no where, little man.  An' the porn queen here
sure as hell  ain't goin' anywhere without us," said the bald man with the
golden toothpick. "Anyone goes anywhere, it's her.  She is a-comin' with
us. We  just wanna have a little fun is all."
         Nicky's response surprised everyone, even himself.  "OK, fellas,"
he conceded, his head in his hands, "go ahead and take her. I don't give a
fuck no more.  But have her back here in, oh, say, three hours."  Nicky
then looked away from Lisa and the three men, studied his plate, picked up,
and bit into his cheeseburger.
        "Nicky!" Lisa shouted. "You serious?  All these guys wanna do is
fuck me. Which ain't bad. Everybody does. But you just gonna lemme go
without sayin' shit?"
        "Nicholas," Alex exclaimed, using the name that signified that he
was quite upset over his ghoulish friend's decision, "just what do you
think you are doing.? Use your head, my dear good friend."
        "Gentlemen?" Nicky looked imploringly at the three red necks.  Fed
up with Lisa's antics, he hoped this would teach his girl a lesson she
would never forget.
        "Nicky the Ghoul!!" exclaimed Lisa, stunned by her boy friend's
behavior.   "I am really, really, really kinda disappointed in you. I
guess." Then, shrugging her shoulders and looking up at the three men, then
glancing back at Nicky, she smiled hugely and, giving in to temptation,
said, "Well, huh,  let's go, boys."
        "Now that's what I call a real good girl,"  said Earl, his voice
soft and mellow.   "You comin' on a ride in the back o' my truck with the
three of us.  Your boyfriend and his girlish friend here," and here the man
looked contemptuously at Alex, "they can sure as hell come along and watch.
Prob'ly all they're good for anyhow."  Staring straight ahead at nothing in
particular, Nicky just nodded as  Earl gently took  Lisa by the right arm
and helped her out of the booth.  Then Lisa and the three country yokels
walked out of the restaurant and into the night.
        Incensed, always concerned with the ethics of any situation, Alex
looked at Nicky. "Nick," he began, "what have you just done? Are you
insane?"
        "I let my girl go," came the subdued answer.   Somewhat puzzled by
his own behavior, Nicky stared into the dark space at the back of the
restaurant. "She's a big ole porn star now. She dreams about everyone
fuckin' her. It was like she wanted those guys. So  Lisa gets her way is
all."         "But, but, but--but that's your girl, Nicholas. I mean,
c'mon, man. I don't think she thinks that.  She's fucking with you."
        "Not no more she's not my girl," sighed Nicky, finally picking up
his burger and biting into it; "now she's a  star and all that, everyone
wants her--and I guess she wants everyone. Hell with her." Though he spoke
the words of rejection, Nicky felt as if he'd given away his right arm.
        "Lord above! Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Alex responded,
incredulously, his staunchly Roman Catholic background emerging. Secretly,
Alex was also in love with Lisa and didn't want to lose her companionship.
"This thing with the adult film industry will pass, my friend.  Lisa has a
good heart. And when it does pass, you'll be out a  girl friend."
        "Y'know, I don't think I really give a shit," mumbled Nicky, taking
another bite, trying to hide his hurt feelings.  Ten or fifteen minutes
passed as the two sat in somber silence. Nicky actually felt like crying.
Maybe Lisa was just playing some kind of stupid and dangerous game.
Suddenly, both Alex and Nicky heard a squeal and a scream followed by rude,
course laughter and then more squeals and screams coming from the parking
lot to the side of the restaurant.  Instinctively, Nicky  imagined the
pig-men brutally having their way with Lisa out in the parking lot. It was
like an electric jolt running through his befuddled brain. Awareness oozed
back into the ghoul's brain like warm molasses. Nicky began to realize he
had made an enormous  mistake in judgment. What the hell have I done?,
thought Nicky. This is Lisa I done this to.
        Nicky looked at Alex and saw the malevolent, demonic blaze in his
friend's now yellowish eyes.  Reacting as if some one had just doused him
with a bucket of ice water, Nicky realized that  he had allowed the
situation to deteriorate to the point of no return.  Not only was his girl
likely getting raped  but his best friend Alex was beginning the hideous
werewolfish transformation-always triggered by rage--that would inevitably
lead to the bloody death of at least one of the men  with Lisa. An unusual
werewolf, Alex had undergone his hideous yet beautiful transformation more
than once in order to protect Lisa.
        "Get out," Alex growled--guttural, hollow, sepulchral--at his
friend, his facial features already subtly darkening and stretching. Alex
now sounded like a beast that had just learned to speak. "Please, get outa
my way." Alex' voice was more like a subterranean moan. Knowing he was no
match for Alex, Nicky  quickly edged out of his seat and let his friend
pass. As Alex ran for the door, tearing his clothes from his body, Nicky
followed, realizing that he had fucked up royally by  giving his one true
love over to the three men who probably shoveled pig shit for a living.
        When he stepped outside, Nicky heard laughter,  screams and squeals
coming from the other end of the unpaved parking lot,  about seventy-five
yards away. Panic building, Nicky took off running towards the sounds.
Alex was nowhere to be seen.
        When he came to an old '68 primer gray Ford pickup at the far end
of the parking lot, Nicky saw that the three men had put his now naked girl
friend on a mattress on the flat bed of their pickup.  While two of the men
watched and held the porn star, the third one-Earl-climbed onto the truck
bed, pulled down his pants and, erect manhood in hand,  prepared to mount
Lisa, her legs spread wide. Her hair disheveled, Lisa looked like she had
been crying. Nicky wondered if he saw marks of blood on Lisa's body and
face and then remembered that his girl friend was a ghoul: ghouls don't
have blood.
         Not sure whether Lisa were laughing or crying, Nicky was building
to a kill when a hollow demonic baying sound tore the darkened night air.
The sound filled the area, penetrated to the core of Nicky's being, and
seemed to come from every direction.
        "What the fuck is that?" said the smallest of the men, frightened..
He had been massaging one of Lisa's tits.  "We don't got wolves around this
part, do we?"
        The three men stopped and looked around.  The ear-piercing baying
from the pit of the damned  came again, a supernatural horror ripping into
the natural realm, this time much closer. Positioned somewhere in the now
thickening darkness the encircled the men and the truck, the thing was
almost upon them. All could feel its approach, and Nicky felt  the darkly
energized fury in the savage roar of  the hellish thing that he knew lay
just beyond their circle.
        There was dead weighted silence as everyone--the three men, Lisa,
and Nicky--waited, as if suspended in vacuum for a brief  eternity.  All
heard the low bestial rumbling, the sound indicating  that the beast in the
darkness was madly, insanely moving in circles around them.  The evil was
almost tangible. Then Lisa started giggling uncontrollably.
        "What's so f-f-f-fuckin' funny, bitch?" whispered the bald man, his
voice trembling.
        "You three guys are fucked is what's so funny, bitch," Lisa
laughed, sitting up and looking around.  "Totally, totally fucked is what
you guys are."
        There was a pause as everyone, ghouls included, stopped moving or
speaking, waiting for the evil thing's immanent move.
        Then, in a tiny girlish voice, Lisa spoke to the almost
impenetrable darkness surrounding them, "Oh, Alex.  Aaaaleeeeex.  Come out,
come out where ever you are."
        Having summoned the thing, Lisa paused.
        Exploding from the terrible darkness, the huge beast-thing roared
and sprang, landing on the screaming Earl,  who was brought crashing off
the truck and to the earth in a cloud of dust.  When the dust cleared, a
huge savagely snarling black and gray wolf stood over Earl, saliva dripping
from its gaping jaws, looking  into the eyes of the visibly terrified,
trembling man. As the big man squealed like a pig, turned over, pulled up
his jeans, stood  and tried to run, the beast struck swiftly and
ferociously, leaping and grabbing the man's fat neck in its powerful jaws,
biting powerfully with
razor-sharp teeth,  instantly severing head from trunk in a shower of
bloody spray.  The bloodied head rolled under the truck as Earl's corpse
staggered and fell, a crimson gushing fountain staining the earth.
        Of the other two men, the bald one with the golden toothpick
crawled whining  beneath the truck while the other jumped into the cab and
locked the door.  Swiftly, with predatorial ease, the growling beast
flattened itself and, snarling savagely, crawled under the truck,  seized
one of the man's legs in its powerful jaws, and pulled him out.   The man
was sobbing and screaming something about his wife and kids, knowing he was
going to die.
        As the man wept  "Please, please, please," Alex the beast lunged
forward and took the man's throat in its massive jaws.  Nicky could hear
the bones, muscle, and cartilage grinding and squishing together as Alex'
teeth bit through the man's neck.
        The wonderful odor of blood filled the air and Nicky felt reborn.
It was at that point that Lisa jumped off the pick up, which suddenly took
off in a flurry of dirt and dust.  Determined not to let this third man
escape, Nicky  took off in a sprint. A ghoul who could run three times as
fast as any man, Nicky caught  the vehicle easily and  mounted the running
board.   Holding onto the door handle with his right hand Nicky sent his
left arm crashing through the driver's window.  Seizing the man by the
neck, Nicky jumped off the running board, pulling the body of the screaming
driver savagely though the broken window.
        As the truck sped off  of its own volition, Nicky held the small
man at arm's length, his huge and powerful ghoul's hand wrapped around the
man's neck. Then, just when he saw  terror rising in his adversary's eyes,
Nicky squeezed and crushed, blood spurting between his long gray fingers
and onto his face and clothes.
        Having eaten more than their fill, Nicky, Lisa and Alex sat
together in the front seat of Alex's  Plymouth convertible, its roof down.
Their evening ruined, they had decided to return to Vegas.
        Because he was driving, Alex had again chosen the music, this time
a series of Lawrence Welk favorites.  Nicky detested his friend's choice in
music and on numerous occasions had tried to encourage Alex to play some
contemporary rock. Even something like Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplin would
be better than the shit Alex insisted upon labeling as music. Lisa sat
between the men, her top off, exposing her wonderful boobs to the night
sky.  It seemed like old times again. In the passenger seat, his left arm
draped around Lisa's shoulders so he could massage one of her nipples,
Nicky sat sullenly, silently, wishing the evening had never occurred.
        "Ooooooooh, guys," cooed Lisa, suddenly throwing one arm around
Nicky's shoulders and the other around Alex, "that was so totally awesome.
You guys are so fuckin' stud when you get goin'." To Lisa, it was as if
nothing serious had happened. It was like some kind of stupid game in which
Nicky and Alex would always be there to save her if she got into trouble.
        "You mean you're not upset with Nicky the Prick? Honey," mumbled
Nicky, depressed almost beyond words, "they were goin' to fuck you all
night. Fuck ya to death if they could.  I was gonna let 'em. You're my
girl.  Don't that bother  you at all? Alex and me heard you screamin'
bloody murder, for Christ's sake. I almost died inside-and I'm already
dead."
        "Yeah, maybe I am upset with ya a bit," whined Lisa in a nasal
sing-song tone, her Eastern upbringing temporarily surfacing, "but I been
fucked by other guys before. You even seen me on film.  I mean, I might not
have minded so much. Besides, Nicky I'm a ghoul.  Those guys wouldn't be
much of a match for even little ole me.  If I'd  wanted, I'd of cracked
their fuckin' skulls and sucked out their flesh. So don't worry, Punkin'.
You're still cool with me, Nicky."
        Hoping Lisa were just teasing, the exasperated Nicky recalled that
before he had met her, Lisa had performed for three years with a snake and
a donkey as a stripper in Tijuana. Maybe he was the one who was missing
something here.  I'll never fuckin' figure out women, Nicky thought to
himself, never, never, never. Nicky couldn't stand it.
         As Lisa whined on and on in the gorgeous desert night, claiming
that she liked being a sex object and wouldn't turn down a good gang-bang
now and then if Nicky didn't mind, Alex turned up his stereo so even the
coyotes and rattle snakes could get their fill of Lawrence Welk.
         Nicky reached for the twelve-pack at this feet, pulled out two
beers, popped the tabs, and handed one to Lisa. Nicky just wanted to get
drunk.
        "Lisa, honey," Nicky yelled into his girl friend's ear, "just drink
the beer and shut the fuck up. For five fuckin' minutes.  Just shut the
fuck up and drink with me. Let's be like old times."
        The Plymouth sped down the I-15 at ninety miles per hour. Few other
cars were on the highway at this time of night, 2:30 am.  In two hours,
they'd all be back in Vegas.
        As Lisa sucked on her beer can and, between gulps, continued to
brag about being a porn star, Nicky looked up at the full moon, thought he
saw a meteor blaze across the glorious night sky, and dreamed of bloodied
corpses and different times. He'd kill the next man who even looked at
Lisa. Sadly, too, he realized that things between him and Lisa would  never
again be as they once were. Life together would be a lot tougher from now
on.

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 uXu #447              Underground eXperts United 1998              uXu #447
      Call INTERNATIONAL INFORMATION RETRIEVAL GUILD -> telnet iirg.org
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