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Archive for September, 2010

Episode 24: Liquor Store Blues…

The body crumples to the ground bonelessly and they look down at the corpse wearing its red vest with a little name tag, that says welcome to Jim’s Liquor on it and the name Clyde.

“Do you think this guy was working overtime?” Joey asks.

“What do you mean?” Dawn asks.

“Well when this deal went down it was after midnight, what was he doing here?” Joey asks.

“Hell dude, you gotta do inventory at the end of the night,” Darren says.

“Dude I would for sure have been drinking if I had to be in here after midnight counting fucking bottles of beer,” Joey replies.

From behind the door to the bathroom, next to the door marked office the toilet suddenly flushes, Dawn instantly raises up her guns and fires through the door. The three round burst from her Beretta and the shot from her Glock tear through the cheap wooden door.

Darren reaches down to the body blocking the freezer door and grabs the corpses leg and wrenches it out-of-the-way, just as Dawn kicks in the bathroom door with her guns held ready.

“S’cuse me Clyde,” Darren says.

The freezer door closes and Joey and Darren move up to where Dawn is standing in the bathroom door, looking down at the toilet. The toilet is slowly filling up with water in silent protest to the guns pointed at it. There is a burst of gunfire from outside as Mark, Ray and Candy open fire at something.

“Ya’ll hurry up in there!” Chevelle yells from the front door.

“Now I don’t know when poor Porcelain Johnny here got put on a hit list, but I’m a thinking you might be able to bring this mother in once you get yourself a lag bolt wrench to loosen him up,” Darren says.

“Yeah I didn’t even know Johns were in season,” Joey says laughing.

“Fuck the both of you in your stupid fucking faces, if it had been one of those things in there I’d have gotten him,” Dawn replies gesturing to the bullet holes in the door.

Darren glances at the door and nods sagely and then reaches over and picks up a bottle of brandy from the shelf. He hands it to her and says, “Here, let me buy you a drink. While you’re doing that Joey here can check out door number three.”

“Fuck you dude who made you Bob Barker,” Joey replies back instantly.

“Door number three is from ‘Let’s Make A Deal’ not ‘The Price is Right’ you fucking retards,” Dawn says as she holsters her guns and opens the bottle and takes a sip.

“Oh you know she’s prolly right, I didn’t get to stay home like a good housewife and watch that shit while I was out on the rigs digging for fucking oil,” Joey replies dripping with sarcasm.

“You always gotta be tapping something don’t cha,” Dawn says.

“Exactly,” Joey replies grinning.

“Ok, enough with the playful banter, someone open the fucking door,” Darren says.

“Well go ahead there Sir Lancelot,” Joey says.

Darren tries the door, it rattles and he turns and says, “Fuck man, it’s locked.”

“It’s locked up tighter than Ray’s love doll,” Joey replies laughing.

“You really are obsessed with that fucking doll aren’t ya,” Dawn laughs.

“Well what can I say I find it very strange that not only does a grown-ass man play with dolls but that not only that but he sticks his fucking cock in one,” Joey laughs.

“Yeah I can see the humor in that I guess, still creepy though,” Dawn laughs.

“Lets try to get the keys off of captain Pilates over there,” Darren says.

Dawn and Joey glance over to where Darren had shoved the body with the red vest and one arm. The corpse is piled up against the end of a shelf with its hips and legs bundled up over its torso with its head smashed into the tiled floor and it’s feet up in the air and arm jutting out obscenely. Joey walks over and searches the corpse’s pockets looking for the keys.  Darren walks over to the counter and checks on the shelves back there for the keys and grins at Chevelle.

“Nothing on the yoga freak,” Joey yells standing up from searching the body.

“Found ’em!” Darren yells back as he jangles the keys, “Oh dude and I found some scotch.”

Darren places several bottles of Glenlivet and Glenfiddich on the counter for later.

“It isn’t the good stuff, but it’s still pretty fucking good,” Darren says as he heads back to the office door.

Darren tries about 13 out of the 50 or more keys on the ring before he finds one that opens the door. The stale odor of sweat and mildew rises up to meet them as the door swings open. There is a wall in front of them and a set of stairs going down to the left. Along the walls of the stairs are hundreds of liquor posters with women in various states of undress holding various bottles of booze with painted on grins.

They descend the stairs into the darkness below Darren’s flashlight on his AR-15 giving off a beam of light in the darkness, Joey reaches out and flicks his light on as well. Along the left and right walls of the room below are long wooden shelves stacked with excess liquor bottles and in the back of the room perched atop a ratty thread-bare lime-green throw rug is a tiny desk with an ancient computer. On the desk next to the computer is what looks like a woodchuck with the top of a beer bottle jutting crudely out of its mouth the cap of which says BrewDog.

“What in the flying gopher fuck is that?” Joey asks his flashlight beaming on the oddity with the gleaming dead eyes.

“Well it looks like someone shoved a beer up that squirrels’ ass and then sold it to this stupid mother fucker that owns this store,”Darren replies laughing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Dawn says, “That’s not real.”

Joey and Darren each crowd in and take a closer look, their flashlights focused in on the corpse.

“Well if it isn’t real, it is the best fake woodchuck beer koozie that I have ever seen in my life,” Joey says.

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