Sometimes, with a cigarette, you can take a paperclip and straighten it out.  Somewhat straight, and ram that fucker down the shaft of a cigarette and the Ash won't fall and you can walk around a Party with it, threatening the cocktails of fellow party attendees.  The host's new swede furniture.  The cat.  She'd seen this maneuver before and was fairly certain that Claudette was on the level.

Charlie wondered when that Ash would break and deafen the Room with it's silent explosion on the Oak bar top.  Foolish, she thought to herself, Claudette never misses.  Ever.

"Thought you wasn't comin' in Here no more," Claudette said, smiling.  Her teeth, yellow.  The way piss looks when it dries up.

"Dad's dead."  Charlie said.  Never taking her eye off that ash.

"When?"  

Charlie wanted to scream, 'The fuck you care, you mean old bitch!  You and your perfect ash and your dried up piss-stained teeth.  When did you give a Damn about anything other than your Bottle and Beethoven.'  Mom always had a soft spot for the Classics.

Charlie wanted to say all this.  Maybe clean the slate and start fresh from the New.  She wanted to say all this.  But something in her periphery made her hold.  Some shadow she new would catch up, eventually.  Like shadows always do.

"Well, well, well.  Thought I'd find you here, Charlie.  Fuck all but you got shit for Brains, girl.  Wait 'till Aloysius get his hands on you.  You stupid bitch.  You'll be his fucking Masterpiece!"

It was shit-or-go-Blind time.  Charlie thought about bolting for the back.  Out the hidden service door.  Out into the alley.  Back into oblivion.  She thought about letting go and taking her Medicine.  She thought about all of this as time slowed. 

The sound of the 0-0 shell being racked into the 12 gauge, pump action Remington was unmistakable.  Any fools that knows anything knows that sound and it filled Charlie with Joy.

"Aint nobody come in my place and call my Baby-Girl stupid.  You limp-dick Cocksucker."

Charlie could see the barrel of the Remington in the reflection of the Shadows eyeglasses.  You could drop quarters, flat-ways, down that nasty fucker and sometimes Claudette did.  Drop quarters flat ways in it.  She always had a soft spot for the Classics.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you to, Baby.  Now, be a good girl and fetch Mama the Duct Tape.  You remember where we keep it?"

How could she forget.

Comments

[TwoBusy]

"fetch Mama the duct tape."

Oh, mercy. We gonna have a goooood tiiiiime...

[ms picket to you]

um? i'm scared. really.

also: chuck has a way.

it's shit or go blind time, yo.

[Whit]

Mom doesn't fuck around. Except on dad, apparently.