The approach
The spine is a bit red; and the whole thing has a smell
Strangely horrible; you notice especially
Odd details, you'd have to see with a magnifying glass...
The buttocks bear two engraved words: CLARA VENUS;
-And the whole body moves and extends its broad rump
Hideously beautiful with an ulcer on the anus.
Venus Anadyomene
Rimbaud
Herb is an insurance salesman, a little overweight, balding, has a slight problem with his oral hygiene and has one webbed toe. He knows people avoid him like the plague because they think he'll try to sell them something. I've seen close friends doze off as he spoke about whole life vs. term insurance. Is it any wonder he needs an outlet?
I had dressed as a Vampire in a stunning black outfit, tight and sexy, slit to the waist. When Herb (he now prefers being addressed as Count) first saw me, he nearly drooled.
He looked positively dashing as the Transylvainan prince of darkness. The cape was expensive though; it had an inner lining of red silk. He looked frightening and awesome.
I'll be frank. Before this, getting sex from Herb was quite a chore. He'd be worried about sales or just be tired. But once he donned Dracula's clothing he became A SEX FIEND!
I grappled with the cape and unbuckled his pants. When I touched his cock, I marveled. Never had it felt harder or hotter. And when I looked into those blazing eyes of his I realized he had become a delicious demon lover.
Was this my Herb?
His meaty Hard On made me want to do only one thing...
Pesto Popawadolus looked up as the 7 train pulled out, up from his copy of the Sloppy Truth, neatly tucked within his copy Of Human Bondage, giving it the passages its title implied. The air hung lifeless over the platform of 74st Broadway and made him keep his gloves on and his Mets cap, planted firmly upon his head. It would not stir from his head as a man in a gray trench coat passed him.
He pulled off his thick brown glove, leather and faux fur inside, and opened his thick blue and white ski jacket, pulling on the lift ticket he got when he went skiing two years ago. Sking with school, the ticket once crisp and blue now bent and cracked with age. Put the glove inside his jacket and pulled out, the dexterity of addiction, a cigarette out of his pocket, Parliament Lights.
Tongue to the tip, end, recessed filter, why? Perforated along, someone told me that you could rip it off and chew on it, get that cigarette flavor when you couldn't smoke. Only person who tried was Bill, spit it out, stream of brown saliva, as if he was gonna puke. Where is my lighter?
He dug his red BIC out of his pocket and lit up.
Bored, how long till they get here? Never know. Look around, long platform, billboards line the way to the stairway, people stand along the yellow line, smoke gushing from their mouths, steam? its part of the sky, getting back to the gray sky. One long cloud, ridges, but still one cloud covers everything. No sun, it stops the sun from shining. Funny, in queens everything is two stories tops four high, but jutting out, over there is the Citicorp building, surrounded pointing into the clouds, still can't reach. Down below the tracks, cars rushing black, blue, red going under the train tracks. If I threw something down maybe I could get one, an egg could cause a crash, no a brick would be better, yea, or maybe a fire cracker, or a bomb or
-Wat da fuck arr ya doin up here dick?
Pesto looked to the rough voice, to his right, into a pale face, covered with red blotches, black heads, yellow teeth, rot.
-What's up Bill?
Bill's eyebrow crushed in on its self. He scratched the sweat pants that Pesto hadn't seen him out of in two years.
-Wat da FUCK ya doin up here ya moron!
-Smokin
Bill's eyes lit up in pleasure, a dog who discovers a piece of meat that was lost in the corner a week ago.
-Shit giv one here.
-Ya leech.
-Fuck off and give.
Pesto smiled and handed him one, wished he could feel his fingers.
Bill put it to his lips.
Look. Will the drool extinguish it? No, if it could do that then it would wash his hair, that hasn't happened in months.
-Where's Rob?
-Waitin down there.
-At the bottom of the stairs?
-Yea he sent me up ta see if yusze war here.
-Better tell him to come up.
-Awe, he'll figurit out, said Bill and smiled, showing off his plac collection.
Rob Androgenous's tall form stomped up the stairway at end of the platform, fists clenched shaking the right one in the air.
Pesto gazed up at Rob's pronounced chin, jutting up from the neck. The jock, blue eye achaeans, olive skin, wavy black hair, like mine, no, no huge zit on the end of his nose, ready to burst. No, not like mine.
-YOUSE ASSHOLDS, DICKHEADS! WHAT DA FUCK Is YA DOIN UP HERE, Rob screamed.
-Smokin, they said.
-Shit give one here.
-Figures, what are we doing tonight? Pesto asked as he passed him a cigarette.
-There's this party, so we'll swing by and if we get tired of it we'll jet to a bar.
-Sounds lame, Pesto muttered.
-Whar da fuck elsze, wesze szupposed ta go; said Bill.
-Oh. Pesto exinguished his ciagrette, and fingered his book.
Burning cunt, hot, sex fiend, wish I were alone agian, finish that one, others in there that are better though, the one about the sex clan.
...and they tied me to the cow, and they, all eight of those stronge men, greased muscles rippling as their huge pectorals pulsed, attacking me, covered in milk and cum and I heard the cow moo with delight...
Yea some great stuff in that one.
Rob threw down his smoke, grey mist issued from his mouth, onto the platform. He turned to Pesto;
-Let's get going.
The three looked their age as they went to the end of the platform and down the stairs, as they walked the sixteen year old swagger. Rob and Bill with their hands shoved into their pockets swaying back and forth with every step, Pesto kept his hands out swinging them back and forth in metronomic fashion. His gloves would not fit into his pockets.
Down the stairs, into the pit; Pesto thought; white interior, stained, cops at the bottom waiting, fat oozes, crawling out under blue shirts, green flesh escapes between buttons, badges covered with black electrical tape. sounds, voices gritty, telling crimes, as the eight A group of Cops stood talking:
-Shit, I wish there were seats here.
-Did you see that chick pass by?
-Fuck the cunt and catch the nigger, gatta watch dem.
-So he azks me for ma badge, and Ise sez Bages, I don't need no stainkin bages.
-ziizrzz breaker zezrzz rape in progress zrrrzz robery zzerzz famine zzzz death; walkie talkie wails
-Anybody got any coke?
-Ahhw, shit, I gatta change ma colostomy bag!
-Pass a doughnut.
Pass pass the cops into the station, surrounded people walking, rushing to catch a train.
Bill smiles and mutters:
-Guys check out, new yorks swinest.
They reach the top of the stairs that go to the platform below where the E,F,N,R, and G(like that ever comes) trains stop. The level below, brite florescent, white, glowing, here low lit, incandescent, the brown tinge to all, but not a bit of brown in the place. Above the sun stopped shining.
Pesto turned to Rob:
-What train?
Rob turned at the bottom of the stairs, the zit on nose, his face an insult to mine. Perfect his but my nose, pus forming for two weeks, hurts all the time. Huge, the size of a golf ball, everybody knows. Why doesn't he have zits?
-Don't matter, we gotta change at Times Square anyway; said Rob
The F train rolled into the station, steel blur, don't bother, shut out the noise.
Rob finds three seats, two together, one right in front of the two, he sat in the one, face the two side ways. Pesto placed himself where he always was, next to the window, easier to stare. Pesto's finger went up to his nose, they might stare back. Pesto turned to Rob:
-Dude did you say Time Square?
-Yea; Rob shrugging his shoulders.
-The F train doesn't go there.
Bill groaned, shook his head and rasped:
-Rob yusze fuckin idiot, I better lead da way.
-Oh great, Pasqua DeDip Shit, tha great polish explorer, shut the fuck up; screamed Rob
-Heay, Fuck You. said Bill
Pesto stared out, passing stations, blurred figures that line them, not a feature sticks out, bleed in the air that surrounds, simple figures, basic color, people? Just pictures, bacteria under a microscope, smudged by the movements of the train, slides placed inside the darkness of the tunnel, black, occasional lights shows off the walls and pipes.
What runs through them? what is down beneath? Ears clog, swallow, under the river, under the water, into the island, over the field and through the woods, gramathers hause, is that where the wolf hides underneath. Stop.
Look over by the doors, a group of men, all balding, the back of there heads, scattered follicles of hair, makes the scalp look like a sponge, dressed in middle class, strait as an arrow value, second generation in the working class style. The one with the red and yellow shirt, brown leather flight jacket, receding hair to the middle of his head, not male pattern, but receding. He spoke:
-So Vito picks dis girl up in dis bar, and I mean she is hot, Dis cunt boils. Blonde, I wander if shez blond all over ya know. So Vito spends his fuckin mony on her, ya know, he's jokein. Vito makes his joke ad the slut I was wit laughs so hard that she spets the gum rite out of her mouth. But dis cunt, the blonde Vito’s with, she doesn't say a woird, nota woid, not evan a smile. That dyke just drinks what Vito buys, but everybody knows, ya know, ya just don't fuck wit Vito, and not when he's drinkin. Vito's just sloshed, and staggerin, and turns to her and says, ya stuck up bitch, ya think ya cunt is gold don't ya. Not a woird from her, she just takes anoither drink. This is the killer, check, she stands and puts down a twenty for wat she drank, and walks out. That's a fuckin insult, ya know, outta fuckin line, ya don't insult Vito. He runs out after her, right in front of the bar, must be like late cause it's dark. I watch him, Vito, grabs her by the hair, and yanks it back, she screams, loud and Vito yells, YA LAUGH NOW BITCH, I'LL TEACH YA CUNT, I'LL TEACH YA HOW TA SMILE..., the man draws his finger across his stubble marked face, and Vito, he rips across her face wit his knife. Yas don't sees shit like dat every day.
Pesto turned away and rubbed his eyes, clear the head, gotta clear the head. So tired, been up two days straight, insomnia, clear the head or it plays tricks on ya.
-Yo
Rob bumps his arm
-Dis is our stop.
Pesto looks up, Lexington, 3ave, 51ststation.
They jump out of the train, through the new station, glass, steel, see the sky, see comes in the top, sea of grey, nothing but grey. The rain still had not fallen, passing suits and ties, midtown land. Down the stairs onto the rear of the platform for the 6 train, downtown.
Pesto stairs down the tracks, nothing, just track lights lighting nothing. Down below, rats little ones, scurry, though pools of slimegreen, brown, rainbowoil. Rat, big one, god look at the size of it, the size of a cat, fur falling off of it, grabs a half of a sandwich, drags it back to the run off hole. Listen:
Cha-tuk-tak-chunk-tuck-clunck
Look, lights, trains coming.
Pesto steps back behind the yellow line.
Flesh flies, out, suits and silks and wonders in rayon, Ladies in sneakers and the men who shove them out of the way to get off the train first. People file out, file in.
Pesto sits down. Look around the train, fat black woman, not ugly, fat deforms some, others it fills out. A small child next to her, a son, of course, but hers? Him all bundled within layers and levels of cloths, his chubby fiveyearold face, barely gets out from under his long scarf. Looking around, at? people, surrounded, uncomfort, know where he's coming from. He places his head upon his mother's shoulder, submerges. Will he be encased in flesh, maybe bob at the top, fruit in jello. She puts her arm around him. She kisses his forehead. He smiles. Safe.safe. Look away before they see you.
Strange look in Bill's eyes, concentration, thinking, no. This is Bill. Better ask:
-Waszup Bill.
-Huh, wah, well, just thinkin.
sure
-Bout what? asked Pesto
-Nuthin
-I can believe that; said Rob.
-Heay Fuck you, said Bill
-Na man, what? questioned Pesto
Bill looked up to the ceiling of the train, choosing words.
-It's just, well, hum, Doesz ya mom fart?
Pesto and Rob looked at him for a second, disbelief.
-what? They said in unison.
-DOESZ YA MOM FART?
-YOOOU STUPID POLLACK! DAT IS THE MOST STUPIDUST QUESTION I EVER HERD! yelled Rob; DESCART DE DUM DUM, WHERE DID DAT THOUGHT COME FROM? I SHIT THERE FOR I AM!
-HEAY FUCK YOU.
-i can't belive this; resigned Rob, his head cradled in his hands.
Pesto thought a second; mom does sometimes, well, they are noises, but FART, NO. NOT THAT WORD! Must be another, better one.
-What time is it? asks Bill
-Don't know; said Rob; Hey Pesto.
Expunge, no, eliminate, sound like a death sound, playing the colon horn, get serious
-HEY PESTO, EARTH TA PESTO!
-WHAT?!
-What time is it?
-I don't know, what's our stop?
-Forty-second street duh, what else? answers Rob
-How come it says 23st; said Pesto.
-What!
-You stupid sheep fucker! growled loud Bill
-SHUT UP YOU POLLACK BASTERD, FUCKEN CHARGE A TANK ONA HORSE!
-HEAY FUCK YOU.
-Listen we'll get the N at Union Square; stated Rob. I'm in control.
-We're going to die.
-FUCK OFF PESTO!
Leaping off the train at Union Square, up the stairs, passt pictures on the wall. UNION SQUARE 1934. UNITED FEDERAL BANK 1944. LAFAYETTE STATUE 1910. A HORSE AND BUGGY.
-I hate this fucking station; said Bill. I fuckin see it on my way ta Stuyvesant ever fuckin day.
-Boy oh boy, traveling that far just not to go to class, said Pesto.
-Heay just cauze I go don't mean I go; joked Bill.
They got down to the platform and sat on the row of wooden seats next to a sleeping homeless man. A man in a gray trench coat had passed in front of them.
-Hey Pesto, what time is it? asked Rob
-I told you I don't know.
-Da clock ova dere says 3:00; said Bill.
-Imfuckingpossible; said Rob. I was six when I left my house. We'll just check at 42nd.
Pesto noticed someone sit down next to him, between him and the homeless man.
A yuppie, his hair straightened back, greasedslimy, yellowtiepasiley, eyebulging, double chinned, yuppie, damn.
The homeless man looked up and left in disgust.
-Hey Bill; said Pesto; Bill what was that story you were telling me yesterday?
Bill looked up, saw the yuppie, and smiled.
-Oh yaah; graveled voiced scraped; the story, check this out. Last week, in advanced Bio...
-YOU'RE IN ADVANCED BIO! YOU FUCKIN ASSHOLE! THAT'S IT. STUY SUCKS; yelled Rob.
-HEAY FUCK YOU. Anyway, last week we was in Beth Israel hospital and they brought out a caravanda.
-What? asked Pesto.
-Yusze knowz a stiff.
-Cadaver, said Pesto.
-Yea wat I said, candelabra, anywho, so they brought it out. It was this woman, bout I'dnnow thirty, forty. It was flat chested cause, ya know she was dead, and naked. I tottaly saw her tits.
-Her flat, dead, decomposing tits, said Pesto.
-Yea fucking awesome right! So we’s standin round her and Dr. Kildare starts cuttin into her, slides the scalpel right down, from her throat, to da bottom of'er stomach. Ya think they'd be blood. Ya know ooozein out, but nuttin, and they peel back da skin, muscles all laid out, connectin, stringy, red, just liein there. Rows, they gotta cut those wit somekinda scissor, and it's strange, don't bleed, kinda doez, more like juice, ya know from a steak or somtin. They hadda open da chest wit dis big metal thing. Da doc and da hospital guy, it cracks did ya know it cracks and right infronta us, everythin, da loings and heart, stomach, kidneys, the spoon, all their, moist. Not neat at all, layin in all different directions, zomof them ya can't make out, at first. Da Doc is pointin in, touchin them, outlining, messaging, they give juice dig, showin us tubes and veins, some of them were still alittle blue, cause not all da blood was drained. Zome shot an hit da Doc in da face. He don't care though, he’s just feelin and pointin, sayin how amazin it is, how beautiful, perfect, I means hez really creamin. So I aszk him:
-How comes, if like we start out a like Undifferentiated Tiszue, ya know a blob, and if life started out that way, how can it be good to ya know separate?
So he looks up and wipes da blood offa his glasses wit his shirt and he says:
-Good question, Mr. Klodowski, but you fail to realize something. Nature does not separate. To it there is no differentiation between, lets say, one cell and another, the living and the dead, humans and those dissected frog parts you enjoy flinging across the room. In front of us is a unity, all the pieces work, well they used to work and they worked together as one, a unity. No, nature does not differentiate, we do, and the least we can do is try to place the pieces back again...
cool hun.
The yuppie shifted over to the end of the seats.
-What time is it? asked Rob
-According to that clock, 2:45; said Pesto.
-I got one for ya; said Rob taking a look at the Yuppie. I was takin the 1 train with this girl, Emily, last saturday. I was some where around 2am, 3 tops. We were goen inta Brookly, ta have a little sleep ova party, ya dig.
-Hey, is that da fourteen year old Emily? asked Bill
-SHE'S OLD FOR HER AGE OK! So we was on the 1 and we was in the car alone, all to ourselves. We'd both been drinking so we was up and arounhound. So we're kissen, I'm biting her ear, pushin back the hair from her face, and her hand is moving up and down my thigh, I'm going wild. We had been on since 82stand not a soul, not a single soul. She pushes me back, and looks right at me. She had that look in her eyes, ya know that look, com'on thaat loook, geaze, THE I WAANA SUCK YA DICK LOOK!
-OH YEA THAT LOOK; said Bill and Pesto.
-So she's looking at me and her hand travels all the way up my thigh right up to my fly and I'm telling you I'm ready, up and ready. And then, we get ta Christopher Street AND TWO GUYS GET ON. You can't imagine the way I was feeling, how pissed I fucking was. So her hand moves to my knee and she gives it a slap, and whispers to me not to worry about it. So we're sittin on the other side of the train of these two guys and I'm minding my business, just lookin out the window and I turn to Emily but she's starin across the train, like in a trance. I look over and see something horrible. Those two guys makin out. Ya know foolin around. So I get a hold of her and say lets go, but she won't leave, it's like she had to watch these guys.
Now you know me, straight as an arrow, but I ain't leavin the train without her, I put 10 bucks of booze into her that night, so I'm trappped in this train with her, watchen these guys. These guys, one's this white haired disgusting old man, must have been somewhere around 50 and he is just all over this other kid and this kid was in ripped jeans and couldn't have been any older than 14. So the old man is kissen him all over, knocken the bandanna right offa his head. And the kid is just lickin his lips smiling. So this kid's hand is movin up and down on this guys leg, up and down and he pushes him back and gives him that look. That was it, time to go to another car but she growls NO!
And this kid unzips this guys fly, and fishes out this huge cock, uncircumcised and everything, and he starts going at it, and she, she's going wild, shes rubbing herself right through her jeans, sucking on her fingers. And this kid's head is bobbing up and down and the old guys eyes are closed and he's moaning out loud and his hands are clecheding this kids hair and CHAMBERS STREET. I hear that, grab her and say OUR STOP and drag her ass right off. She's lucky all that shit didn't get me to sick to perform man.
There was a pause.
-I don't know man, said Pesto.
-YOUR A FAG, AAA HOMO, A BONE SMUGGLER, AN INTESZTINE TICKLER; Bill yells out laughing.
-YOOU STUPID POLLACK BASTERD, SHUT THE FUCK UP. I'VE HAD MORE WOMEN THEN YOU WILL EVER HAVE IN YOUR INTIRE LIFE. YOU DISGUSTING FUCKING PIG, NAME ME THE GIRL THAT WOULD LET YOU STAIN HER.
-HEAY FUCK YOU.
The bugeyed yuppie was staring at them in horror.
-I got one for you; said Pesto. I was over in La Regio, last week, ya know just sittin inside, haven myself some cappicino, relaxing. Nothing going on, well next to me are these two women, they were hot. About five foot six, both of them, one blond and one brunette and they were like 25. They weren't facing me and I could just make out what they were saying.
The brunette takes off her glasses and puts the edge in her mouth, she's smiling and it's a great smile. Her teeth are white but not her mouth, well lets just say it's not cold. She's got these hazel eyes, they look so deep, I mean like pools of water, like you could drown in them, and short brown hair, I got a thing for short brown hair. So she says:
-God Mary it's been so long, how are you?
Now this blond, she's got this body, you can tell cause she is wearing this tight outfit, black top with long sleeves, a short skirt and black tights, skin tights. Her mouth looks like it was drawn, it's like those Qupie dolls, real narrow, but right at the center, it jumps out into an eternal pout, real red, man red.
-I'm so glad you are here, I've missed you so much Alice. Ever since you left, well it just hasn't been the same.
and they're holding hands...
-So how is everything? asks Alice who happenes to be the brunnette.
-Strange, I mean, well, strange.
-How?
-Well, gee, um, do you remember Cecil?
-Mary I've only been away for two months; says Alice laughing. Of course I rememeber Cecil. You two have only been dating for five months. Why is something wrong?
-Well kind of but not really.
-I couldn't see how anything could be, I mean he was just so sweet. He was just the cutest little man. When you had the flu he was there for you and took care of you. He brought you to see the Doug Elkins dance company, and he's the only man I have heard of that actually liked A Room With A View. Besides he's just so cute, like the time we were at that just horribly pretentious dinner party and made all those little, god what were they?
-Conversations cards.
-Oh yes, conversation cards, I mean they completely got everybody talking. He even cooked.
Now Mary was looking really disturbed, extremely, just like she didn't know what to do. And she says:
-I know but, things have changed. He's a little strange.
-Really, how Mary?
-Well last month he came over to my apartment and we were jsut sitting around. So he brings out this bottle of wine, so we're drinking and I'm well having my period, so I got tipsy really quick. And he's looking at me, in a very strange way, but I don't really think about it. So we start fooling around and his hand goes under my blouse, but I tell him well, you know, but he says he knows. That look, well it comes back and he asks if he can, well see it. I don't really think about it so I take off my jeans and my panties and he askes me to lie back on my bed so I do. He just spreads open my legs and looks at it. His whole body is quivering and his glasses fall off and his hand reaches forward, afraid, and he touches it, just touches it. He brings his hand slowly back up to his face and he breaths in deep. He smears the blood across his lips and murmured:
-Ahhhh the passion.
Now I start to think this is alittle strange.
-Well guys what ya think? asked Pesto
-Your fuckin bizarre, said Bill.
-Your a fuckin pervert, said Rob.
The yuppie was long gone.
The N train came rushing up to the platform and they jumped on, sat down and leaned back.
-Speakin of relationships, how is that physical therapist girlfriend of yours Rob? asked Pesto
-That bitch, why she broke up with me.
-What? asked Pesto; What happened? I thought things were going great between you two?
-Yup, she was an evil bitch. Just fuckin' evil, I mean a good fuck but not worth it. I mean she just freaked out when she found out I'd been foolin' around with other girls. She fuckin' freaks and fuckin' dumps me. Can you believe that Pesto?
-Yes.
-WAHT?!, Listen I am a man, dig. I can't turn down a woman, I mean com'on, it's geneticly impossible.
-Ise agree, said Bill emphaticly.
-YOU STUPID FUCKIN POLLACK HOW WOULD YOU KNOW? NOT EVEN THE SKANKYEST OF THE QUEEN OF THE SKANKS WOULD COME NEAR YOU!
-HEAY FUCK YOU.
-Rob man; said Pesto; if you're gonna fuck around you got to expect...
-Listen Pesto it's a mans god given right.
god, God a lounge lizard in bellbottoms, sweating though his yellow polyester, posturing cooly, maxium: suk et bietch
-Besides Pesto, if some dumb cunt gonna throw themselves at me, ya know want a piece of the Robster, who am I to turn them down? Besides she knew I didn't respect any of them.
-It's a damn fuckin' shame youse lost her man; said Bill. I means she waz a noirse, more than a noirse, she waz a PHIS IC CALL THER I PISZT. Fuckin' man, dat musta been a piece. Phyisically rehabilitate me.
-THAT IS IT; sounded a voice from behind; I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS! WORDS HAVE CONSEQUENCES!
A large woman approached. She looked about 210lbs and at a tremendous six foot five her pink and blue mumu looked like some strange circus tent. She gazed at the boys through her horned rimmed glasses and pointed her cane, superbly fashioned from only the finest bulls penis, at them.
-YOU SEXIST, CHAUVINSTM, CAPITALIST EXPLOITIVE, MALE PIGS, YOUR TIME IS PAST! ; she bellowed as her body jiggled in a way that brought jello from hell to Pesto's mind.
Rob spoke:
-Who the fuck are you??
-I AM THE VOICE YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR! I AM WHAT IS TO COME! I AM WHAT WILL MAKE THINGS LIKE YOU EXTINCT! YOUR WAY OF THINKING, YOUR WAY OF BEING, IT WILL ALL BE GONE! WE WILL LEAN IN AND DRIVE YOU OUT!
The three males gazed at each other for a second and then back to her. Bill broke the silence:
-Your a lesbian aren't you. And not one of those lipstick ones, right?
Her bovine revolutionary eyes bulged out and glazed over with the hatred and agony of human injustice. She let out a Valkeri like piercing wail [the cry of justice for the workers and of every single animal who died from Avon lipstick in the eyes] and struck Bill over the head with her cane.
-Crazy bitch stop! yelled Rob
-DIE MALE! brayed she
She kicked at Rob's crotch with her steel toed, leather combat boot[made from cows that had died from old age], but missed and hit him on the shin. The N pulled into Time Square.
-RUN! screamed Pesto just having been missed having his face smashed with a bull's cock.
They leapt up from their seats and dashed acrossed the car being followed by the woman, who by now was singing Solidarity Forever. The friction that the abrading of thighs caused the hair on her legs and crotch to combust into dancing waves of sweet flames, audible in it's crackleing [similar to in the beautiful Communist steel mills], that burned in a virtue and workers rightousness [LONG LIVE LENIN! THE BASTEREDS KILLED BAMBIE'S MOM!].
-A PENIS IS A PRIVILEGE, NOT A RIGHT! screamed she
-Help!! screamed the boys, all the boys.
STAND CLEAR OF THE CLOSING DOORS
The N train pulled out of Times Square, with the woman on it, patting out the flames in her pubic hair. The three men stood and watched the train leave with her.
Next: The Vissious Interlude
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