That's what friends are for
As the mist oozes into the parking lot off of 1st and Decatur, unrest can be felt on the seedy side of the business district. Headlights splash the urine-stained bricks of the back alley of the Velvet Clam and find the 'reserved' sign near a freshly power-washed dumpster. The Cadillac's doors open, piss pads and empty prescription bottles tumble. Man-ish hands with good nails and hairy ankles in Louboutin pumps signal the shift change at the Clam.
Madge grunts out of the car, slams the door, and crushes the smoke dangling from her lip for the past few blocks under her orthopedic slip-on. A sizable fart breaks the silence and ends on a wet note. Bisket quickly hands her a tissue and chuckles under her breath.
Madge grunts out of the car, slams the door, and crushes the smoke dangling from her lip for the past few blocks under her orthopedic slip-on. A sizable fart breaks the silence and ends on a wet note. Bisket quickly hands her a tissue and chuckles under her breath.
A crash of cans and garbage bags takes our two heroines' attention, and they spin around to see a monstrous swamp creature staggering toward them. Wet plopping sounds squelched on the pavement; Madge just stood motionless. It was her only defense.
A limb from the creature began to reach for Bisket, but she quickly stepped back. Its dripping arm wasn't grabbing for Bisket; it was pawing at its horribly misshapen head, where the mouth would be. Bisket could feel a scream rising inside, and then she saw a mouth. Not filled with rotten teeth like the golems in stories, but a nice mouth with relatively good dental care and a defined cupid's-bow.
Bisket knew this mouth. When someone nibbles-your-north, you don't forget lateral incisors like that.
"Trevor. Is that you?"
Bisket knew this mouth. When someone nibbles-your-north, you don't forget lateral incisors like that.
"Trevor. Is that you?"
Before he could answer, a water hose sprayed him in the face. Trevor quickly sprints down the alley now that he can see.
Bisket looks puzzled at Madge. "What the hell just happened?" Madge walks to the dark edge of the parking and lights a cigarette. Bisket can make out Trevor's Renault covered in pigeon shit in the flickering light. "That son-of-a-bitch won't be bothering you again," Madge exhaled. Biskets' story of forgetting her safe word must have struck a chord with Madge. I've been feeding the pigeons behind the bar exlax-laced seed for weeks. It just seemed like a good time to do some research," Madge adds.
Bisket looks puzzled at Madge. "What the hell just happened?" Madge walks to the dark edge of the parking and lights a cigarette. Bisket can make out Trevor's Renault covered in pigeon shit in the flickering light. "That son-of-a-bitch won't be bothering you again," Madge exhaled. Biskets' story of forgetting her safe word must have struck a chord with Madge. I've been feeding the pigeons behind the bar exlax-laced seed for weeks. It just seemed like a good time to do some research," Madge adds.
Bisket puts her arm around Madge's shoulders as they head into work. "I didn't know that birds could crap that much."
"Well, Bisket! That's why I'm the smart one," Madge says, laughing as the bar door closes behind them.
The moral of the story is never underestimate a friend with an inferiority complex and pigeons with diarrhea.
