“Open up Gord, I know
you’re home, I can see the TV on.” Butch
banged on the door of the dilapidated shack Gord called home. Gord owed Butch 500 bucks and had been
dodging him for weeks.
Butch sighed
and peaked through the window on the front porch. A football game was underway on the TV set
and a lit cigarette smoldered in an ashtray on the coffee table.
Just then, a
giant woman in a garish pink floral dress dashed across the room, tripped, and
fell face-first onto the floor with a thud.
“Damn.” Butch tapped on the window. The woman was still as a corpse.
“Gord, your
lady friend just knocked her dumbass out cold. Come down here!”
There was no
response.
“Alright
fine, I’m coming in.”
He reared
back and kicked in the front door. The
lock ripped a chunk out of the frame as the door swung open.
Butch walked
over to the woman lying still on the floor.
She was
enormous.
He could only
see the back of her close-cropped head.
And then he noticed her arms; they were covered in thick black
hair.
His eyes
widened.
Those arms
belonged to Gord.
Gord groaned
and rolled over. He opened his eyes and
looked at Butch with alarm. Butch was a full member of the Satanic Falcon Motorcycle
Club.
And so was
Gord.
“P-please
Butch, you can’t tell nobody.”
“I can do
whatever I damn well please. Where’s my money?”
“I-In the
drawer, the kitchen top drawer.”
Butch kept
his poker face which masked his confusion.
He opened the drawer and beneath a pile of lipstick and other cosmetics
was a wad of cash. He peeled off five hundred-dollar
bills, stuffed them in his pocket and turned to leave. As he reached the door Gord pleaded, “Please, Butch, if the guys find out, they’ll kill me.”
Butch stopped
and looked at him. “So, you like wearing
red lipstick huh?”
Gord bowed
his head. “Yes,” he mumbled.
Butch shook
his head. “Red’s not your colour, Gord. Pink is. It would match your dress perfectly. Why don’t you come over tonight and we’ll try
out some different shades.”
“W-what?”
Butch pulled
down the hip of his jeans a couple inches to reveal a pair of bright pink
cotton panties. Gords’ eyes lit up with
delight and Butch gave him a wink. “But
next time, Gord, pay me my money on time.”
Matthew
Maloney is an up and coming author who lives in Mississauga, Ontario. His first collection of speculative fiction short stories The Last Keeper of the Seal is set to be released in late 2017 on print and
e-book formats.
See Brian Henry’s schedule here, including writing workshops and creative writing courses in Algonquin
Park, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Georgetown, Guelph,
Hamilton, Ingersoll, Kingston, Kitchener, London, Midland, Mississauga,
Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Saint John, NB, Sudbury,
Thessalon, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Kitchener-Waterloo, Muskoka,
Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.
Oh my goodness!! Best laugh I've had in a while. You're my kinda funny.....
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness!! Best laugh I've had in a while. You're my kinda funny.....
ReplyDeleteGreat story, Matt! Very funny and entertaining! Well done!!
ReplyDeleteThanks ladies, I'm glad you enjoyed.
ReplyDelete