Forbidden Whisper
Ms de Vries-Ponsonby moves slightly right to face Cherie directly, crushing a fez that halfhangs from the disembodied head of a Shriner who's torso lies pancaked under a Lagonda oilpan.
"What time do you punch out of this demeaning, boring, scut job and return to the world of.... raising and lowering her eyebrows rapidly in a caricature of demi-mondainete... Cherie looking hurt of course it's honest work and you get to meet all kinds of interesting people and sometimes there's the odd act of genocide somewhere between the oom-pahs, the palm trees, the caballeros... the...
[editor: what does this guy have against Shriners??? less senior editor: you were supposed to ask that several paragraphs ago. even less senior editor whose income is so paltry that she has to resort to making 8mm bootleg movies of her couplings with mongoloids on the weekends--but undeservedly so (re. paltry income) since she is the only one in the pecking order who knows the answer: "he just likes the image... you know... like the little guys on their crazy little fucking bikes with their weird hats 'n that." editor:...uh... OK, got it]
Up draws a black 1936 Chevy van with CORONER stencilled on the side in white by a remand trusty at City Jail.... finally, I mean like the Brazilian is starting to rot or is that necrose??? The guy looks like Dick Tracy with his fedora his grey muted pinstripe suit his well polished ex-navy black wingtips and his little black bag that prolly has a mickey of bootleg gin innit this guy looks like rip van coroner just awaked from a long snoozy....scatters all before just like in the movies while a Lois Lane in a long slit skirt trips and bumbles along in his train together with a few flatfeet who wait uncertainly for any barked advisory this tough as shit MD may choose to issue over the trikes the bodies past the lagondas the lederhosed drunks the assorted oom pah pah instrumentation and into the caballeros or should that be gospodinayim no it shouldn't, bangs open the door of the restroom breaking the nose of a shriner who had tried to piss while on his trike--succeeded but didn't quite make it back through the door into the lobby.
"Where's this faggot, nancy-boy, transvestite scumpig pervert Ethel and Julius judas from some latin country under every bed call Hoover call McCarthy (shit he's after my time now they'll file an anachronism report just like they did when Concorde flew over), says Dr. Coroner grasping the burly shoulder of an elderly chap with an Afrika Korps flash on his lederhosen suspenders; causing the man to lurch to the right and piss on his shoes.
"He's in the disabled cubicle Mein Herr, says the old wehrmacht lag throwing up a salute that knocks Coroner back into the arms of Lois who thinking "this may be my only chance kisses him violently on the lips, pushing her tongue back to his tonsils while the accompanying flatfoots commence beating the veteran of foreign wars to death with their truncheons.
Breathing heavily, Dr. Coroner pushes Lois gently back and whispers "not here Lois--you can give me head later if you want to get ahead in this business gettit--laughs insanely for a moment remembers where he is and what he's for and gently pushes open the door of the last cubicle only to spring a boner when he sees the sprawled lingerie and the brain matter splattered on the wall making him even angrier that this likely sodomite too old to be a catamite though may have a yen for imported Marmite soon to be eclipsed with Vegemite once Paul Hogan captures the imagination of Mittel Amerika has provoked a priapic event.
He throws his left hand--palm extended--quickly back in a professional "better not come in her Lois" gambit but she has to know--she has to know--throws her hand up to her lips with a muted gasp and falls backward into the arms of (editor: it could have been the fucking Afrika Corps guy if you hadn't let him get killed off by the paddies he was your best character he could have run and run sorry--that was an ex cathedra remark]
"Well, looks like a.32 snubnose whore gun ta me," sez the doc yep here it is takes out his hankie and picks it up delicately in the manner of Wayne Bobbit picking his prick out of the tall highwayside grass one night.
"Evidence.... exhibit A screeches the doc passing it back for a waiting flatfoot to deposit in a nag WITH HIS BARE HANDS--NOW HE'LL BE A SUSPECT--oh well.
Takes the pulse routinely suspecting the guy's not dead and the guy's not dead "bad fucking move sez the doc using a small-calibre like that only leaves a burden to the family for the next 30 years maybe I should kill him right here and save everybody the bother.
"Get a stretcher in here" yessir right away sir--doc lights up a Lucky and lives... and turns to still-stricken Lois with an avuncular air. "Guess we can take a break now Lois" Grasps her roughly, bending her backward pulling her to his cruel smoke-rimed, gin-hardened lips and tonguing her as good as he got slipping his hand under the back of her slit skirt up up up up to stocking top, smooth white thigh and... hark... the lacy hem of her French knickers but NOW HE CAN'T GET IT UP throws a furtive glance back at the near-stiff's Fredrick's of Hollywood outfit and feels a reassuring woody tenting out the roomy rise of his pants like they tailored them back in those days with the pleats and all--Lois swooning of course, making little moans of submissive desire and giving his butt a little loving squeeze CUT TO
Stretcher bearers in white shirts, white pants that you can just throw in the washing machine they never need creases and hats like cops but white on top with a black plastic weave, etc. and they manhandle the stricken Latin to the horizontal and then run him out the bathroom stopping only to huffingly puffingly lift the stretcher over the prostrate corps of the corpus africanus guy.
The doc abruptly breaks the clinch "come on Lois we gotta get back to the lab and file a report." They walk toward the door stepping over the becorpsed kraut with the doc throwing a glance backward to acknowledge the flatfoot's "what'll we do with THIS stiff Doc"?
"You're Murphy O'Reilly Patagonia aren't you,"
"Yessir says the hibernian cretin, simpering."
"I knew your great great grandfather son," says the doc curtly, glancing down at the swollen, contused parody of a soldier sprawled on the deck."
The flatfoot glances floorward, blushing, scuffing his toe and feeling vacant while the doc says " looks like a heart attack to me, son. Call it natural causes."
Murphy and his henchapes begin jigging and Kerry reeling around the joint as much as the limited space will allow while the doc practically yanks Lois off her feet with his elbowgrasp as he ushers her out into the lobby pandemonium and can't help noticing the good-looking squeeze cupping her chin on counter-propped elbow talking to some old bird gushing some stocious spiel receptionward back at the what to most people would be a sweet young thing but she's a little old for the doc's taste as he propels Lois across the lobby circumventing the groaning and writhing the moaning and wheezing shriners, the sterterous breathed lederhosened, the lagondas, the dented brass instruments, large drums, assorted fezes course Lois is kinda old for him too but he's got a soft spot for her which makes him wonder if he'll get over that problem when he checks out the latino on the slab oh shit the guy's still alive he won't get to cut his heart out and eat it the swarthy little bastard prolly at Cook County by now.
Cut to...
Emma shows Cherie an email that says:
Hard spankings for girls in Milwaukee my wifes pic seeking horny ladies fr cybersex anal sex my wife GYPSY gets licked comments to gypsy@ waiting for your call Houston fantasies voyeur central membership blowout --web harlots please fuck mywife photo 4/5 MWF ISO Discrete...!
Cherie laughs 'it's a lot to take in, isn't it' Emma bemused.... uh... 'yes' replete with tautologies. I get these all the time.'
"Oxymorons more to the point," alludes Cherie getting into the spirit... not much litotes... eh! They had opened one jpeg finding a smiling girl with an OB-GYN speculum revealing I would rather not say under the title 'Shy Wife Wants to Pose For You' YUK!!!!!!!!!! (Cherie) HMMMM!!!! Emma - even as thousands gagged across cyberspace,
"The Spanish housewives are nice though," Cherie wistfulled bringing up a jpeg of a full-breasted housewife on the beach at Benidorm--breasts conical coming to a puffy point with a slightly pert uptilt but who's to say she coont have been a scrubber from Wigan. Emma with her arms lightly round Cherie's waist....'put away the things of childhood my sweet and come to bed--hands moving lightly up and gently squeezing Cherie's neatly-packaged lolitatits mmmmm!!
Cherie closes the program on Emma's Sony Vaio, clicks selects and reaches back to stroke Emma's arms you're such a playful little mouse words from Emmas mouth tinkling onto her neck.
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