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It’s about 20 miles later, and that damn Redhead was still talking. She talked about some of the nastiest men slept with. I remembered I was trying to ignore this story about her sleeping with a homeless man with no teeth. But she slept with him in an alley to see what would happen. Then she mentioned something about garage dumpsters and cat poop, which I don’t care to repeat. All the while, she’s farting, burping, and scratching herself everywhere—and I mean everywhere! She made Bev all the more sexier. God, I swore on my son, I’d never again drink Patron. If I and Bev could work this out, I will, no matter what. Even if we don’t, I’m never drinking again.
As she pulled out her twelfth cigarette, I said to her, “Look, I’m not going to be your manager. I don’t want to promote smoker because if you can’t take care of your body, I don’t think you can take care of the business.” I knew that was weak, but it was the best I could come up. I slammed on the breaks and made a U-turn.
She slapped me in the face. “Fuck you Leo! You’re just trying to get back to your fucking wife. Nope! Stop being selfish. I had sex with you so you’re my manager until I fire you.”
I stopped the car. “As far as I’m considered, I’m fired! You ugly ass, triple chin pig.”
“What?” She said in a deep, firm tone. Before I could response, she started hit me with a straight jab and somehow kicked me out of the car. I ran to the back truck and got a baseball bat then she threw me on the ground.
“You can’t talk to me like that.” She said shivering and her face turning red.
I stood up into a batter’s stance. “That’s why you shouldn’t have me as a manager, that all you are to me.”
“Nope, you’re my manager, I don’t have a job. You going to make me rich rather you like me or not.”
“Damn that. I’m leaving you here in this desert!” I ran up and swung the bat—which broke in half on impact. Damn! How the hell—she did a round house kick on me which send me three feet backwards. I stood to my feet only to be met with an eight-hit Mortal Kombat style combo driving back into the van.
Hell, that might as well been a fatality. Because I’m as good as dead if I don’t see my son again. Fucking Patron! I spitted out two teeth and a mouth full of blood as I favored my ribs. I was having a hard time with my ankle and back. I remember crying and begging to go to a hospital.
“Fuck you asshole! I’m a Christian Scientist so you’re not going to a hospital.” I wailed. I swore I was begging for my mommy who was dead for five years. Fucking Patron!! I hate you!! Lawd please, please, tell me what kinda bitch is this? I don’t understand. A slutty Christian Scientist that’s overweight? Really? Ok, I’m sorry! I’ll be a better husband and father. I’m sorry, a thousand times sorry! Please Lawd hear me.
At which time the police drive up—
Authors bio is coming up shortly.
