Slow night in totse town.

edited July 2011 in Spurious Generalities
The DJ was playing hardstyle, and mashing it with 'footloose', I hated the original, and I hoped every thump banged a 12' iron spike up Kenny Loggins ass. I asked the bartender for another coke and coke, Doc informed me that he was out of coke, so I would have to snort it, asshole always runs out of coke. The rails went down like fast fuses, and I was getting prickish.

"Where the hell is everyone? It's Monday night!, whooooooo" There is nothing like saying 'woo hoo' to an empty bar, nothing. The hooker sucking off her trick in one of the booths looked up at me with a gap toothed smile that said 'you got ten bucks buddy, this could be you!'. Her john was quite dead, so far as I could tell, his erection a possible side effect of the drugs that had killed him. Dead men don't cum, I think, so I hoped she had patience.

I moved to the center of the room, turning a couple of tables to ash, just because I could, and pulled a couple of friends out of my bag. One was high as fuck and immediately started dancing to what had now become a dubstep beat. The other, an otter of some sort, slithered off to watch the hooker, who was really going to town. Fuck, no more friends in the bag, the otter is usually pretty cool, but he was fixated on the necro BJ in progress, and that wasn't stopping anytime soon.

I laid down and grabbed a fistfull of ceiling, trying to pull it over my head and drown out the anti crowd, but soundless chants and hastily blurted nothings trickled along the walls, and there was no escape.

"Speak the hell up!", I writhed a bit, writhing in torment is my specialty, I did my thesus on it. The otter gave me a 'good on ya' nod, and returned to watching the hooker. She was now as dead as her trick, but she gave it her best effort, and I would make sure I looked her up the next time I was feeling randy. The otter still seemed to be amused by the necrotic tableau, and despite my invitation for a drink, he refused to join me.

"I just want to see how this turns out!, I'll join you in a minute" Stupid otter, I turned him inside out.

"How do you like that, you smug little fuck!", I glanced at the dancer, he had shot himself, again. Fuck, guy just hates Hank Williams sr., and the DJ was mashing crying cowboy songs into gangster rap, heavy on the crying cowboy.

I killed a couple who came through the door, slowly, which for me is about eight seconds, and immediately wished I hadn't, they were well dressed, and the room needed some color. Hopefully the right people would show up soon, totseans I mean, maybe to create, maybe to destroy, whatever.

I pulled a mop and bucket out from behind the bar, and asked the DJ for a slow dance. A few random pills and a good fuck later I was in a much better mood, Stacy and Hamilton are always fun to play with, but as I put them away I was disappointed to see no one had come in.

Just another slow night in totse town, I guess.


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