Beat 70: The Shiv Quota Has Not Been Met
Well, now. This day has turned
out to be particularly terrible.
A part of Lloyd -- the
part currently allowing him to let his face stay planted in the grass -- wanted
to just go to sleep and pretend everything that had happened thus far was just
the stuff of some stalker’s deepest fantasy.
But another part of him realized that this WAS the stuff of some
stalker’s deepest fantasy. A fantasy
that had gone horribly wrong given the nature of reality, but a fantasy all the
same. And now that he had a moment to
reflect, it was a fantasy he didn’t much care for.
I think it would be best if I made a tactical retreat, Lloyd
thought, hoping that a worm hadn’t crawled into his mouth. I made
the grave mistake of engaging with Miss O’Leary in her home -- giving her an
advantage that she likely didn’t need.
Once I’ve my bearings, I’ll be certain to resume quickly enough. He sniffled. As soon
as I get my stomach pumped, that is.
He sure hoped it
did. The alternative was spending more
time with a machete-slinging psychopath.
And now to make my less-than-daring escape! Lloyd’s eyes darted about. Now
then. The quickest way back home would
be…this way? Or perhaps that way? Well, whatever the case, getting a move on is
in my best interest; I only hope that my state of duress attracts no probing
gazes. Or harmful judgments.
His eyes shifted to the
left. And sure enough, someone DID gaze
probingly at him. A girl -- and a tall
one at that. A girl with pale skin,
garnet-brown hair, and dark eyes. And
ragged clothes. And of course, he
couldn’t ignore her --
“It’s you!” Lloyd said
with a gasp. “You’re the one from the
student council meeting!” He waddled
towards her, failing to register her clear shock; she’d fallen backwards, and
looked about ready to scuttle away like a crab.
She didn’t yet; she just scooted her butt across the lawn.
“No, wait! I just want to --!” Lloyd glanced down at his body. “Er, forgive my state of disarray. You see, I’ve had quite a time today, and as
you can likely imagine, I --”
The girl just stared at
him. She stood up, dusted herself off,
and then broke into a full-on run.
“Wait! Wait, I just want to -- I said wait, blast it!” Lloyd tried to follow behind her, but even if
he had free reign over his limbs he’d never match her speed. By the time he’d even entered the backyard,
she’d vaulted well over the fence…and several more soon after.
Such stunning athleticism! Could
she be some manner of warrior?! Lloyd
could only stand in the backyard gaping, but once the novelty wore off he shook
his head rapidly. No, no, no. I’m missing the
point here. Just who was that young
lady, and why on earth was she watching me?
And how did she find me in the first place? But he shook his head again a half-second
later. No, no, no -- right now, that’s not a priority either. I need to escape before Miss O’Leary’s inevitable
second wind. My flesh is weak and
easily-rent by the common machete! To
leave this place behind is to ensure my…
He waddled to the
left. And he noted that once again, he
wasn’t alone. Jane sat in a rocking
chair on the patio, nodding and smiling wistfully to herself as she stared at
the night sky. “Ah, Madam O’Leary! It’s such a relief to see you here in
person!” Lloyd said as he waddled her way.
“Perhaps now, this night will have some semblance of safety woven into
its starlit happenstance.”
Jane kept on nodding,
giving Lloyd little more than a sidelong glance. “Mmmm. It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Er…you mean the
night? Well, yes, I suppose so -- but
I’d prefer it if…” Lloyd stopped. It had been a few hours since he’d fully
eaten one of Sheila’s “meals”, but for some reason he felt like throwing up all
over again. “A-are you all right?”
Jane nodded a bit more.
“Why wouldn’t I be, baby?”
“Baby?”
“Oh ho yeah. Momma’s feelin’ good tonight.” She stumbled
out of her chair and turned to Lloyd -- smiling, but redder than the ace of
hearts, and with limbs and lips a-wobbling.
“You and me? We should…let’s,
like, totally dance the night away or
something. You -hic- you know the
Charleston, don’t you, kid?”
Under normal
circumstances Lloyd would have proudly told her that he wouldn’t be a man if he
didn’t -- but somehow, the timing seemed less than ideal. “M-Madam, are you --?”
“Hey, hey, hey, hey,
hey! No good! That’s no good! Didn’t I -hic- didn’t I tell ya to call me
Jane?”
“Well, yes, but it
seems so inappropriate that I --”
“CALL ME JANE, YOU BONY
SON OF A BITCH! AND GET DOWN ON YOUR
KNEES!”
“Yes, Jane! As you wish, Jane! Please don’t hurt me, Jane! My body can’t take any more, Jane!” Lloyd tumbled onto his knees, but kept his
hands clasped in prayer. Hopefully she’d
make no objections to that.
“That’s better.” Her eyes widened. “Aw, I’m real sorry about that, Lloyd. I -hic- I know you’re just tryin’ to be a
nice guy and all. I just can’t help
myself sometimes, you know? I just get
so lonely sometimes, what with my
husband gone and all…I know he’ll be -hic- he’ll be back someday, but…but it’s
just so hard, you know?”
“I can’t say I know the
exact circumstances, but you have my sympathy, ma’am.”
“Hey, SHUT UP! Nobody asked you!”
“But you just said --!”
“Don’t listen to
me! I’m drunk!” Jane reached past her chair and showed off a
bottle. A big, empty bottle, the nature of which he could quickly guess. But the label said it all:
BASHER KONG BEER. IT’LL KNOCK YOU ON YOUR ASS.
“Hey, Lloyd. Listen to me for a sec.”
“But you just said --!”
“WHAT DID I SAY,
LLOYD?”
“But you just said --!”
Jane grimaced at him --
and then, she slammed the bottle against the wall, breaking it into two. One half went spiraling through the air, but
not a single drop of alcohol went with it.
The other half remained tucked in her grasp…with its jagged edges now
aimed at Lloyd’s face.
“Is Momma gonna have to
slice a bitch?”
Lloyd clasped his hands
even tighter.
“Now listen. I just got myself a great idea here. My greatest idea ever.” She swaggered toward Lloyd with a smirk,
failing to take a single coherent step but keeping her bottle perfectly aligned
with his face at all times. “I know all
about you, kiddo -- how you’re this -hic- agent of love of whatever. It’s cute, really. And you’re cute, too. So -hic- so I was thinking…hey, what if you and
I did something really special tonight?”
Lloyd clasped his hands
so tightly he thought his arms would shatter.
Jane ran an eye over
Lloyd. “Huuuuuuuuuuh. You know, you’d be perfect if you put on a
few hundred pounds, but I -hic- I guess desperate, lonely, badass housewives
can’t be choosers. If you’re good enough
for my daughter, you’re good enough for me. Besides, it’s the perfect way to
show her up for good! So let’s do some real dancing! I’ll lead, you follow! Whatever the hell that means! Heeheehee, I am sooooooooooo getting sued for
this. Oh well! Wooooooooooorth it!”
“Ma’am -- Jane -- let’s
be rational about this. This is not the
most decorous action to take; I’m almost certain there are several dozen laws
against this! And beyond that, what of
your relationship with your daughter?
Isn’t this the one act that will fracture your bond?” Lloyd shook his head -- or at least dragged
his chin through the ground. “I’ve no
intention of sullying either of our names, but I would gladly do what I can to
support you otherwise!”
“And who said you could
do that?”
Lloyd couldn’t have
turned around even if he wanted to, but he certainly didn’t need to. He heard the voice. He saw the shadow. He knew that before him stood a woman with a
knife-edged bottle -- and behind him stood a girl with a giant-sized knife.
“I thought I told you
to only think of me,” Sheila growled, with a grip that nearly broke the handle
of her machete. “And then you go and
start thinking of my mom? It’s like you WANT me to stab you!”
“It’s like I -hic-
haven’t taught you anything,” Jane said, her speech slurring more than
ever. “We DON’T stab our guests! That’s rule number one!”
“Then what are you
doing with that bottle?”
“Huh? Oh, right, I forgot I had this.” She stared at it like a monkey with a banana
-- and then she thrust it towards Sheila’s face. “I’m gonna stab YOU instead!”
“Not if I stab you
first! Lloyd is mine!”
“Lloyd is MINE!”
“MINE!”
“MINE!”
“MINE!”
“MINE!”
“YOURS!” Jane tilted her head. “Wait…I mean, MINE! Heh heh, man, I’m so drunk.”
No! They can’t fight now --
they’ll ruin their cushy lawn with all that blood! Lloyd thought. I need to diffuse the situation
somehow! But the most I have right now
are my arms, and I suspect those are particularly useless at the moment. There has to be something, though…come on,
Lloyd. Think! Think!
Think!
He clamped his eyes
shut. And as he did, something formed in
his mind. The image -- the answer he needed that could spare him
and the O’Leary ladies from any more carnage.
Said image just turned
out to be Sheila’s breasts.
Oh, damn it all! That’s of no
use to me no- Lloyd’s eyes shot
open. Wait a minute. That’s it! He turned his head as far back as he
could (in other words, not very). “Miss
O’Leary! Such strenuous activity is
Ill-advised at the moment!”
“Yeah? And why’s that?”
“It’s simple! It’s obvious!
It’s so clear what disasters may be wrought!” he shouted. “If you continue this struggle…if you face
off with your mother in this, the greatest battle ever fought between kin…then
there’s no doubt in my mind that the struggle will rip your brassiere asunder!”
“Wh-WHAT?!”
“Yes! It’s entirely possible, I’d wager! You are a growing girl, after all, and to
engage in a battle such as this would no doubt do immense damage to your --”
“No! Shut up!
Sh-SHUT UP! I-I-I don’t believe
you!” After a sudden war cry, Lloyd
heard the rapid pattering of footsteps.
And shortly afterward, the sound of something
snapping. He couldn’t see anything
for himself, but somehow he could have guessed what he was missing -- and what
Sheila was in danger of losing.
Suddenly, that war cry
turned into a tear-laden, snot-tossing wail.
And the next thing he knew, Lloyd heard those wails echoing through the
night.
“Oh my. She’s still not wearing her glasses; she
might not be able to get back into her room.”
Lloyd heard a few dogs start to yelp.
“This could be problematic, I think.”
But of course, he had
his own problems to tend to first. He’d
taken his eyes off Jane, and she’d made a point to remind him of her presence
-- namely, by snagging his throat in her grip and shoving the bottle an inch
away from his face. “Is that how a man
does things?” she asked with a skeptical (but still-glazed) stare.
“Hrk -- manliness
is…not something I’m well versed in,” he squeaked.
Jane crouched down a
bit further and looked him right in his bulging eyes. “You really care about my daughter, don’t
you?”
“I care about a lot of
people. The problems start when I try to
do something about it.”
Jane raised an eyebrow,
and with a snort she let Lloyd’s head fall to the ground. While he sputtered for air, she walked across
the lawn with the bottle slung atop her shoulder. “Guess you’ve got what it takes,” she
muttered. “Looks like taking care of my
daughter is in your hands.”
“Ma’am?”
“It’s in your hands,
Lloyd. ‘Cause it sure as hell isn’t in
mine.” And with those words spoken, she
headed towards the neighborhood streets.
Lloyd sighed and
massaged his forehead -- but before he could even think of having a moment of
peace, Jane came rushing back and seized his neck in a choke hold. “What the hell are you doing out here? Not planning on running away, are you? Are you?”
“I was earlier, yes!”
“Get your ass back in
that house or I’ll paint my house with your blood.” And with those
words spoken, she headed back toward the streets with her bottle slung over
her shoulder. “I’d better not catch
-hic- you trying to make a break for it, either. I’ll find my daughter, but you’ll be the one
doing the heavy lifting.”
“Ma’am --”
Jane flung her arms
into the air. “I’m DRUNK!” she
cheered. Making it into the streets
unharmed -- or even on her feet -- might have counted as a small miracle.
A shame that Lloyd had
yet to get his. Maybe now, I can at least get some sleep, he thought with a weary
smile.
TO BE HEARTINUED…
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