Posted by rache on September 26, 2004 at 22:48:01:
Copyright 2004 by Rachael Ross all right reserved
Note: Written in 63 minutes flat for the Worst Story Contest at Sam’s Place!
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Billy Ray’s Bad Day
Fiction by Rachael
Billy Ray was pissed. Really pissed because he wasn't really drunk yet. He'd gotten fired earlier in the day. Six years workin construction just didn't seem to count for shit, did it? He was on his way out the gates when he'd seen the pink card in his time slot. Those bastards didn't even have the decency to tell him like a man, oh no. They just pulled his punch card and left a little present for the holidays. And everybody'd seen it too, 180 guys filing out of the compound all reaching, pushing, and pulling with hard calloused hands. Trying their damndest not to touch that pink slip of shit in Billy Ray's slot.
And then he got home, riding all the way in silence with his brother-in-law Randall. He wanted to pound somethin but Randall wasn't gonna take his shit that was for damn sure. Billy Ray slammed his fist on the dashboard anyway and Randall put a big meaty hand on Billy Ray's arm "Best stop that boy, or you're walkin." Billy Ray'd just stared at him and jammed his hands in his pockets, feelin that piece of shit paper all the way home.
Billy Ray's car was gone. Mother fucker! "Lucille...Lucille!!" The screen door opened and Lucille come out of the trailor wiping her hands on a dirty towel. "Lucille, where the hell is my car?"
Lucille didn't say nothing, Randall was already pulling out of the gravel drive and she looked at the back of the pick-up truck. "I'm talkin to you!....You hear me? Where's my car?"
"Bank...Bank man come by Billy Ray." Lucille started covering her head but it didn't do any good. Billy Ray slapped her on the temple hard.
"What the fuck do you mean bank man come by?" Billy Ray kicked dirt at her. "You let the repo man get my car? What the fuck is the matter with you?"
He raised his hand again and Lucille turned around running back into the little trailer. Billy Ray fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Mother fucker, he said over and over. But it still didn't bring his car back. Or his job. He heard the telephone ringing inside and a minute later Lucille stuck her head out the door yelling for Billy Ray.
"Billy Ray, Doc Hoskins here. Listen Billy, we got your blood work back...You got the clap son. Yep, little bitta that Gonnorreah bug....Now you just come on by and I'll give you a shot. You best bring Lucille down too and you might wanna think about telling whoever you mighta got it from, or give it to."
Billy Ray hung up the phone and crushed his cigarette out on the yellowing linoleum kitchen floor. Only one he mighta got the clap from was standing two feet away. He reached out and grabbed Lucille by the hair.
"Whaaaa....Billy?"
"You stupid bitch! You give me the clap Lucille! You!" Billy Ray smashed her head against the refrigerator. He held her bleeding face up by her hair and twisted her so she had to look at him. Her eyes were wide with fright and clouded with tears. "Who you been fuckin Lucille?"
Lucille tried to move her mouth but Billy Ray wasn't waiting. *BAM* He slammed her face into the freezer again. "Unfuckingbelievable!"
"Billy...I'm sorry...I'm..." Billy Ray cut her off by slamming her head for a third and final time into the old GE Frigidaire leaving a smallish dent and a splotch of wet red blood. He let go of Lucille's hair and she crumpled to the floor sobbing pathetically.
"I know who it was...That shitheel Roscoe huh?" He tapped Lucille with the toe of his boot. "Wasn't it, tell me bitch or I'll stomp your sorry ass!"
"Yessss..." Lucille moaned and Billy Ray kicked her and went to get some rope.
He tied Lucille up like a hog, leaving her on her belly and shoving his pink slip in her mouth before he taped it shut. "By the way honey, I been laid off." Then Billy Ray went to find Roscoe.
Hitch-hikin wasn't no way for a growed man to be getting down the road. Mother Fucker! Billy Ray cursed and stuck out his thumb when Lord Almighty if it wasn't Roscoe himself, coming down the road in his bright red camaro. Any other time Roscoe would stop and Billy Ray wouldn't think nothin about it. He wouldn't think to himself as he opened the passenger door that Roscoe had to have the biggest set of balls this side of Kentucky! No sir, but that's just what he was thinkin now.
"Hey Billy Ray! Where ya goin?" Roscoe didn't even bat an eye lash. Just like everything is fine.
Billy Ray looked at him. "I was just goin to Doc Hoskin's, mind dropping me?" He walked around to the driver’s side of the car, leaning down.
"Sure no problem Billy Ray, where's your car?"
"Oh got some engine troubles, Randall's gonna take a look for me tomorrow. I hate them damn things."
Roscoe clucked his tongue. “Man’s gotta have one though, don’t he.” The man chuckled. “Just like a woman, cept a car’s just a tad more dependable.”
Billy Ray glanced at Roscoe through the open driver’s window and frowned. You’d know all about dependable women, wouldn’t ya? You son of a bitch.
“Well, ya gonna get in?” Roscoe was grinning and Billy Ray nodded.
“Hey, what the hell is this?” Billy Ray hollered from behind the car, he bent over, looking at something.
“What is it?” Roscoe leaned out the window, craning his neck look back, but he couldn’t see much of Billy Ray, or what the man was looking at.
“I dunno, come on back here…” Billy Ray stood back up and clapped his hands, like he was getting rid of some dust.
“What is it?” Roscoe walked around, standing next to Billy Ray and looking at the back fender of his car.
“Down there, underneath.” Billy Ray pointed. “I don’t know what the hell it is.”
“I don’t see nothing.” Roscoe bent over at the waist, putting his hands on his knees as he squinted, trying to see whatever it was Billy Ray was looking at down there.
“You don’t see it?” Billy Ray grabbed Roscoe by the neck with one hand and yanked his fingers into the waistband of the smaller man’s Levi’s with the other and slammed the top of Roscoe’s head into the hard steel.
*BAM*
“You don’t see how pissed I am?”
Roscoe bounced hard and his eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. It was all black and he would have fallen down on the gravel but for Billy Ray, holding him up.
*BAM*
Billy Ray slammed Roscoe’s noggin into the car again.
“You don’t see how I got the clap?”
*BAM*”
Billy Ray rammed Roscoe’s head into the car a third time, satisfied now that there was some blood and hair stuck to the metal. He dropped Roscoe on the ground and kicked him a couple times, since that felt really good.
“You don’t see how fuckin a man’s wife pisses him off?” Billy Ray was shouting. “You’re a stupid redneck sumbitch, Roscoe! I got half a mind to feed you to the pigs, boy!
“Ohhhh…” Roscoe moved, just a little, twitching mostly, and moaning.
Billy Ray turned off the car and grabbed the keys out of the ignition. He opened the trunk and grabbed Roscoe, dragging the semi-conscious man up, and more or less rolling him into the trunk, so he lay twisted around the spare tire, tool box, and 3 years worth of empty Lone Star Beer cans.
“Mind yer head!” Billy Ray chuckled and slammed the trunk closed, hearing a satisfying dull crack as it hit Roscoe’s already bashed in cranium.
Billy Ray figured Doc Hoskins could wait now, he had more urgent business to attend to. He drove home, pulling in and rapping on the trunk as he walked by. “You alive in there, Roscoe?” A soft muffled groan answered him, and Billy Ray nodded to himself. “Good!”
Inside the kitchen Lucille was just where Billy Ray had left her, trussed up like an Arkansas razorback for Thanksgiving and he gave her a little kick with his toe.
“How you feelin, Lucille?” He smiled down at her. “Feeling like goin for a ride in my shiny new automobile?”
Lucille looked up at her husband, her brown eyes wide and filled with tears. She’d stopped cryin for a little while, but as soon as Billy Ray came back, she couldn’t help cryin some more.
“Now don’t you go getting all teary, Lucille. I run into to Roscoe and we sorted it all out. Hell, I ain’t even really mad no more girl. So what if my car broke down, and I got laid off, and I found out Roscoe was fuckin my wife, and she gave me the clap…Well, hell…That could happen to anybody!
Lucille shut her eyes, hearing the edge in Billy Ray’s voice. He was still pissed, she knew it, and it didn’t matter what he said.
“Now let’s get going, sun’s goin down soon.” Billy Ray grabbed Lucille by the hair and dragged her across the floor. She made loud noises, like painful cries, but with her mouth all taped up it didn’t do her much good. Billy Ray dragged her down the steps too…thud…thud…thud… and across the dirt. He popped the trunk, leaving his wife breathless and bleeding and quivering like a leaf at his feet.
“Well, shit…there don’t seem to be a whole lot of room in here.” He picked up Lucille under her arms and lifted the girl up. “See? There’s ol Roscoe right there, I told ya we had ourselves a little talk!”
Roscoe’s face was covered with blood, none of it too dry, just sticky, running from a large gash at his hairline where the hood caught him. Lucille struggled when she saw her lover like that, twisting her body uselessly as if she might be able to get away somehow. Billy Ray just pushed her on top of Roscoe, shoving her bound and compacted form right on top of his.
“Ya’ll are so close, this won’t bother ya a bit, will it?” Billy Ray smiled and slammed the trunk closed as hard as he could, bouncing it off his wife’s body and eliciting groans from the both of them.
“Goddamn it Lucille, we gotta close this thing now!” Billy Ray slammed it again and then held it down as he turned around and hopped his ass up onto it. He bounced his body a little, trying to get the trunk closed and beneath him Roscoe and Lucille were squeezed ever more tightly together in that tight space until finally …Clitch…the trunk latch locked and Billy Ray laughed to himself.
Ray drove Roscoe’s car back to where all his troubles had started earlier in the day, back over to just past County Road 666 where they were working on that new Walmart. Yep, Billy Ray figured that would be a good thing, putting all his troubles in one hole, so to speak. Everytime he’d come to that Walmart to by oil for his chainsaw, or maybe a new throw rug for his bathroom, he’d think about that pink slip and that would piss him off…But he’d think about Roscoe and Lucille too, and that might just cheer him up.
Everybody was gone by the time Billy Ray pulled into the construction site. There was sposed to be a guard on duty, but that was old Fender Thomas, and that man wouldn’t miss Wheel of Fortune if his life depended on it…So he didn’t come around til after eight or so. That gave Billy Ray plenty of time to lay some new foundation work, right under the place where the slurpy machine was gonna go.
“All right…Everybody out!” He opened the trunk and yanked his wife down, onto the ground. She was shivering and covered with Roscoe’s blood now, maybe a bit of her own too, but it was hard to tell. “How you doin Roscoe?” Billy Ray looked down and punched the man in the face three times hard, just in case he might be thinking of tryin something. And besides, it felt sorta good doin that, Billy Ray thought.
“Now you stay there, I’ll be back.” Billy Ray promised and closed the trunk again. He grabbed Lucille by the hair, but didn’t get a good grip since it was a little slippery now with blood, sweat, and tears. So he grabbed a good fistful and yanked, dragging the hogtied woman across the hard ground over to a good spot. Billy Ray looked around, there was always scarps of materials laying around, and it didn’t take long before he found some old stakes and a decent rock to pound them in with.
“You gimme some good years, Lucille. Lotsa good years, so you deserve a little something.” Billy Ray was saying as he untied her, and then retied her, using more scraps of twine and even some bit of bailing wire until she was spread eagle, her ankles and wrists tied tightly to the stakes. “Good years. Yep…You gonna like this, I figure. Let’s get you outta those duds, huh?”
Billy Ray undressed his wife, unable to help himself from admiring her body. “You’re still a beauty, Lucille. Goddamn I shoulda listened to my pa. ‘Billy Ray,’ he said, ‘you go on and marry a ugly woman, you hear me boy? Marry the godammndest ugliest woman you can find, you’ll be happy when yer old, believe me!’ But shit, Lucille, I didn’t listen…” Billy Ray shook his head.
He opened the trunk, dragging Roscoe out and letting the barely conscious man drop to the earth with a pleasant thud. “Well, Roscoe…” Billy Ray was saying as he dragged the man by the leg. “Don’t say I never did nuthin for ya.”
When they got close to where Lucille lay, naked as a jaybird cept for the tape over her pretty little mouth, Billy Ray set about undressing Roscoe. “Let’s see what you got Lucille all hot and bothered for, Roscoe.” Billy Ray yanked Roscoe’s jeans down his skinny body and then his underwear too.
“Well, goddamn Roscoe! What the hell is that lil ol thing? Ya go fishin with that worm too?” Billy Ray laughed and turned his face to look at his wife. “You let this piece of dung in your panties with that?” He pointed at Roscoe’s shriveled up little penis and shook his head. “Ya know, that’s just addin insult to injury there!”
He pulled Roscoe on the man’s belly between Lucille’s wide spread legs and up over her breasts, chuckling to himself as he put there cheeks side by side, Lucille staring up with big ol tears in her eyes, and Roscoe starin down at the ground, with a little blood drippin off his nose.
“I best tie ol boy up, you think?” Billy Ray rubbed his chin. “He might get second thoughts about layin with another man’s wife.” So, Billy Ray did just that, tying Roscoe’s wrists to the same stakes that held Lucille’s, but he left the man’s legs. It looked better like that, just like they was fuckin again.
“Be right back, Lucille.” Billy Ray gave his wife a little nod and she struggled slightly, under the weight of her lover, but she was helpless as could be.
*va-ROOM* … *VROOM* … *VVVVRRRRROOOOM*
Billy Ray sat back in his old comfortable seat, feeding diesel into the huge engine of his steam roller and listening with a smile to the deep throated roar as blue choking exhaust billowed into the air above him. Billy Ray had always liked his steam roller and he was gonna miss it, now that he was laid of and all. But at least, Billy Ray thought, he’d get to drive it one last time!
Lucille heard the engine growling, the vibrations of the huge iron machine shaking the earth beneath her bare back. It seemed like an earth quake was coming, like somebody had broken that seal the preacher always talked about and the day of judgment was finally come. She whimpered and pulled with her arms and legs, lifting her body against Roscoe’s dead weight, but it was useless. She tried making noises to wake him up, maybe together, both of them pulling with their arms, they could get free and run away. But Roscoe’s head was bashed in and there was so much blood!
“Goddamn lookit that!” Billy Ray shook his head as the bank of floodlights mounted on the humongous steamroller caught his wife’s attempts to free herself. Her little heart shaped ass that looked so good in her jeans was bouncing off the ground. She was humpin away, even though she could see and feel and hear Billy Ray coming slowly closer astride his great machine, his wife the adulterous bitch, was humping away!
Billy Ray was really pissed at that, and he stomped his foot down on the accelerator, getting the 16 ton steam roller up to it’s max speed of 5 miles an hour and he ran his wife and her lover Roscoe right over without even a little bump to let him know it had happened! The only way Billy Ray could tell was the big smear of red blood, that went around the roller once and then came back around again, black and stuck with dirt.
Billy Ray ran them over a couple times like that, until there just wasn’t a whole lot of Lucille or Roscoe to see anymore. The whole Billy Ray was giggling like a fool, nodding his head and looking down, left and right to see if he’d missed anything. After the 4th time, Billy Ray parked the machine and walked over to the spot, now just a stain really, packed hard as cement. He spit on it and walked back to his Camero. Now it was time to get really drunk, like he'd been plannin all along.
end
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