Exquisite Corpse - A Journal of Letters and Life

Two Stories
by Dennis Brock || Author's Links

Confessions of a Man in Love

So there I am spanking the old monkey on my bed. I'm as naked as can be and just thinking about Tiffany Tiffany. Three days ago, I was naked reading her email and as excited as a pig with twelve sows to jump.
     I ain't heard nothing from her even though I emailed her the very next day. Figured that's all I should do and count myself lucky to have one night in heaven with Tiffany Tiffany.
     My mind's all occupied when in walks John McTennerman. He don't think nothing of me beating my meat and he just takes a seat in my only chair. Course I have to stop.
     "Oh, don't worry none, Jeffrey," big John McTennerman says to me. "I ain't here to feel you up. You just keep on with your business. I gotta talk to you."
     Like I can concentrate with John there beside me.
     "It's not that I don't like you, Jeffrey," John says. He looks all shucks and shy sitting with his hands held together like Mrs. Miller done told us to do when we had nothing important to say way back in the second grade. Mrs. Miller being my favorite teacher of all cause she never had nothing bad to say about a kid and never made anybody feel left out. And I felt left out of a lot in school.
     "I just ain't that way." John sort of wheezes. He's a big guy and he smokes a lot. "It's just that Rebeccah-Jean, why, she done wanted to have sex with a murderer. She thought it would be, oh I don't know, a thrill. Like when she had Mitchkey over on a lark. Told him there was somebody behind her house and she met him at the door with her flimsy nightie on. You know, that pink one I bought her for her birthday. Scared the bejesus out of Mitchkey.
     "She ain't got nothing for the bastard, just wants to remind him he's human just like the rest of us. But you know Mitchkey, he ain't like the rest of us. Never has been. That's why everybody hates him. He warned her about prank calls getting the police from their important duties, like Mitchkey can find his asshole when he needs an enema.
     "You know he tried to feel up Tiffany Tiffany when he pulled her over for speeding once and she slapped him hard and filed a sex charge against him. He was all up and put out by that cause remember Ted Bick could feel her up any time he pulled her over for speeding. Too bad he went to Pittsburgh. Guess the money's good.
     "Me and Ted Bick used to go fishing over Sandy Creek, you know. Before I met Rebeccah-Jean. I know I'd've had to get Ted Bick for her. He had a big'n, you know. We went skinny dipping a lot when we went fishing. You know, just to cool off and he's got a horse in his pants. I'm sort of glad I didn't know Rebeccah-Jean then. That old bastard prick could hurt if she got a mind to see you get it up the ass.
     "Oh, you don't know Rebeccah-Jean. She likes her sex and she and Tiffany Tiffany always got a competition going on. You know, it puts me in a weird spot, having to get the guys to strip and have sex with her. It ain't an easy job, let me tell you.
     "Why, she took a shine to Jimmy Mack there for a while and I had to have him come over and give me a blow job while she watched. He wouldn't fuck her though and, let me tell you, that made her mad. She just grabbed him one night and beat his ass till he was crying like a six year old. Rebeccah-Jean can be down right mean sometimes.
     "I had to take Jimmy Mack his clothes the next day. He run out all naked and red assed."
     John McTennerman creaks in my chair, like it or him is going to fall flat from his tremendous weight. Just remembering John and Rebeccah-Jean naked together gives me the willies. I'd run out naked too. Even if it was Mitchkey standing outside the door ready to arrest me for indecent exposure, I'd run out.
     I saw Rebeccah-Jean corner that damned Holy Roller Ethel Fromme in the Kroger market once and I swear if that old bat Ethel let loose with one more word about redemption to Rebeccah-Jean, she would've been flat on her skinny ass.
     "Well," John goes on. "I come over here and I feel you up. Rebeccah-Jean thinks since you made Jimmy Mack get naked out at Old Vince's flea market, why, maybe you like boys better'n girls. Maybe if I can get you in bed with me, why, Rebeccah-Jean can sort of get in there too and you could fuck her and make her feel like she slept with somebody real dangerous. You know. She can get sort of strange about who she wants to sleep with.
     "I know she loves me and she wants to be with me. That's why she trusts me with all her thoughts."
     John McTennerman sits all quiet and there's a little tear building out the corner of his eyes like I ain't never seen in John. I mean I knowed John since grade school. We went through together and after he failed the third grade and the fifth grade we were in the same grade together. Until he dropped out in the ninth grade. He was working for his daddy over at the Timbers Saw Mill. John has hefted a chain saw most of his life and he can drip a tree quick.
     Shame about John's dad being under a tree once when it fell. But he'd been drinking and done come up missing for a day or so. Nobody knew he was sleeping it off there. The tree was fifty or sixty feet tall. That's a lot of space where you don't rightly look for your pa.
     "See, Jeffrey," John says. "I love Rebeccah-Jean. She could ask me to do anything. If she wants sex with somebody else, I do my best to make sure she gets that. So, Jeffrey. Please. All's I'm asking if for you to think about it. It would mean a lot to her and I only want her to be happy. Think about it, huh? Tell me later, okay?
     "It would disappoint me greatly if you didn't do this for me. Why, I done saved all your computer and boxes didn't I? I hid it all so's the FBI couldn't find it, didn't I? You got it all back, don't you? Please, Jeffrey?
     "I love old Rebeccah-Jean so much, it just about breaks me to pieces to see her want something and I can't get it for her."
     John slaps my leg and gets up. "For what it's worth," he tells me, "I didn't mind feeling you up. Liked it a whole lot better'n feeling up Jimmy Mack. But Jimmy Mack did give me a pretty good blow job. Them's getting harder to come by these days.
     "It's just, like I said. I love Rebeccah-Jean. If she wants to sleep with a murderer, by God, I'll find her one even if I have to murder someone myself."
     And he's out the door.
     I'm naked on the bed and John McTennerman's made me feel bad because his girlfriend wants to have sex with me because I'm thought to be a murderer. I ain't no murderer. I already had sex with Tiffany Tiffany cause she done thinks I'm a murderer.
     Hell, before I got time to think anymore, Mitchkey's busting through the door with a bunch of people and cameras is popping flashes and I'm flat on the floor with Mitchkey, the bastard, straddling me and locking me in handcuffs and swearing at me that I am goddamn under arrest and I have a lot to answer for.
     He hauls me up and sees I'm naked and shoves people out of the room. Then I have to suffer his pulling a pair of pants on me . He don't bother with any underpants or socks. He throws a jacket over my shoulders and heaves me out into the hallway.
     There's all them people taking pictures only I got some clothes on this time. And poor John McTennerman is there with his hand behind him wearing handcuffs too and he's being shoved by some other cops. I don't know these bruisers but they're wearing uniforms and badges. Staties, you know.
     I'm practically thrown down the stairs and out the door and there's a bunch of jokers wearing suits swarming up the stairs before the door's closed.
     Somebody's saying "Crime scene. Back up. Everybody back up."
     Then Mitchkey throws me into the cruiser and turns on the siren.
     "You're in deep shit now, Jeffrey. No getting out of it this time."
     "Where's Jimmy Poole," I try to be big and tough but I must've come across like a whiny little sissie. I'm so scared. Jimmy Mack ain't beside me and Mitchkey's in front of me.
     "Why, Jeffrey," Mitchkey turns around and he sneers at me. I never knew what a sneer really was until then. I knew and I didn't like it. "He's been fired. He and Cuss were caught having sex in the holding cell at the police station. They were entertaining themselves when they were working the other night. The night you were with Tiffany Tiffany. I know all about that Jeffrey. I was watching you.
     "Jimmy Poole and Cuss were caught by the mayor. I told him about their escapades and now they have to pay. Why, the whole town is outraged. You won't get their sympathy this time. No sir, Jeffrey, my boy. You're in deep shit now."

Nuns Ain't Hookers, Legally

I answer Tiffany Tiffany back right quick, but I don't hear nothing.
     It's a week, then more, and not one word. No email and I am getting sorely lonely just from thinking she might just be teasing me and having fun and all I'm going to get is another night with a hand job and I'm providing the hand.
     Don't hardly seem right.
     I leave my room one night feeling all lonely. Money ain't what I want it to be, meaning I ain't got none. What's a guy to do. I go to MacDonald's and get a burger and fries with nothing on my mind but Tiffany Tiffany and how much she can be cruel.
     I go to the movies after MacDonald's cause that's all I got money for. Edgar Lamoosey is selling tickets and he gives me a hairy eyeball. Them bushy eyebrows of his always did give me the willies.
     "You best behave in there, Jeffrey," Edgar Lamoosey tells me. "I want no trouble."
     "Grand jury cleared me," I says.
     "They didn't find enough evidence to convict, Jeffrey. That ain't cleared." Edgar Lamoosey gives me a ticket. I think if I said I changed my mind he would've kept my money anyway.
     I go in and sit in the back. Don't even know what's playing. I just want to kill a couple hours then maybe go back to my room and have a drink or two and go to sleep.
     The lights go down low and I'm sitting there watching the coming attractions when some dame sits beside me and begins to munch on her popcorn. She's all loud and chewing like a brewery horse. I look at her and she ain't bad. She ain't great what with too much make-up and her hair kind of bunched up on top of her head.
     Next thing you know she spills her drink and she's bending over to sort of clean it up but she's only got one napkin and she puts her hand on my thigh.
     "Oh, well," she says and she sits up in her seat again. "Lots of drinks been spilled on this floor."
     But her hand stays on my thigh and she begins to move it to my nethermost region, if you know what I mean. I'm thinking, she ain't Tiffany Tiffany but she ain't another guy what wants to put me to the test. I put her hand right on my cock, but she takes it away real quick.
     "Shit," I'm thinking and I put my hand on her leg and let it meander up her thigh like I was exploring the Nile and I'm looking for where the river begins. I got my hand under her skirt and I'm almost there when I look at her and I see her face in that flickering light the movies show.
     Damn. It's that fucking nun what I saw eating a hamburger after she slopped so much ketsup on it at Pipple's, that day everybody laughed at Mitchkey for falling flat. Hell, I'm feeling up a nun and she's letting me.
     What the hell's the matter with her. She can't be long for this job if this is what she does in her spare time.
     I hightail it out of there. Edgar Lamoosey eyes me like I was fixing to steal his lunch money but I don't give a shit. At least the nun didn't scream.

Electronic Ecstasy

When I get back to my room, it's there, what I've been waiting for, that perfect end to any man's life, an email from Tiffany Tiffany:
"Jeffrey, hon, you got to come on over. Email me as soon as you get this and tell me when you can come over. Tiffany Colleen Tiffany"

Double Knockers

I'm standing at the door to Tiffany Tiffany's double wide trailer. It's got double doors with double brass knockers, one on each door. They're all polished and look so bright. I just have to touch them cause I ain't never got so close before in my life. I mean, I gets to hear about what other guys come close to doing with Tiffany Tiffany, like when Buck Bensonhurst got her in his truck when her car broke down in the J.C. Penney's parking lot, and he got to touch her tit before she slapped him hard, took his truck keys and left him in the lot.
     Tiffany Tiffany always gets her way.
     I put my finger on that brass door bell and pushed it for all I was worth. Why she had door knockers and a doorbell, I don't figure, but everything is so clean. Ain't even a leaf on her little deck.
     "Oh, Jeffrey, hon," Tiffany Tiffany says as she opens the door.
     I get a gander into that home of hers, all clean and polished. Don't look like nothing ever gets to collect a hint of dust what she's right there with a can of Enddust polishing it away. Everything shines.
     I step into the world of my fantasies and it's more than I ever thought it could be. Thick carpet on the floor. Must be the best polyester blend made and all this light shade of yuppie purple. Tiffany Tiffany, why she done got taste.
     "Jeffrey, hon, you want something to drink."
     "Sure." I'm so nervous, I can't talk. No long sentences here. My heart's pounding like Matt Drucker's jack hammer when he's tearing up a street on some new repaving project. My cock is just barely this side of eruption.
     "I'm having some wine. You want some?"
     Sure."
     She goes off into the kitchen and I see some Jesuses cut out of plywood. Her daddy must do those for her. He's so good with tools. There's Jesus with paint on him and Jesus with nothing but primer. There's a few Jesus with a face and no clothes yet and Jesus with his golden robe. They're all stacked on a table. And next to them are a bunch of painted pumpkins and some corn stalks.
     Tiffany Tiffany is lashing them pumpkins to them corn stalks. Guess the Holy Roller season is over and Jesus has to take a back seat to Jack-o-lanterns. There's some blank wood shapes what looks like Santa Claus before he gets painted. She must be getting ready for the holiday.
     Why Tiffany Tiffany works so hard on the beautiful pieces of artwork, I don't know. Her Mama left her provided for when she died in that car crash. Everybody knows Bella Tiffany had all her Mama's money and then some. Earl Tiffany just was a lucky bastard to marry Bella.
     "Here you go Jeffrey," Tiffany Tiffany says and she hands me a glass of white wine. The glass is shaped nice and round like one of Tiffany Tiffany's round bazoombies, not one of those tall thin wine glasses.
     I've been doing research on my mama's stuff and I know this is a goblet.
     So I drink my wine and try not to think.
     "Oh, Jeffrey," Tiffany Tiffany says to me and she puts her hand on my knee and she's sitting real close so as to touch my shoulder with that perfect tit. She whispers, "Oh, Jeffrey," again.
     I'm so excited that I'm going to shoot everything early, you know, by myself sex without the hand and with Tiffany Tiffany right beside me, and make her mad and there's no clue that she wants to have sex with me.
     "Tiffany Tiffany," I say, trying real hard to concentrate. I hold the goblet with both hands seeing my fingers make smudges on that clean clean glass.
     The Tiffany Tiffany is mad and off the couch and talking to me as she walks back and forth like we was in some counselor's office. I know about these things. Halle had me go to a marriage counselor for seven weeks before she filed for divorce and used them sessions against me. Said I was being obstinate and pig headed, just to prove how unfit I was to be her husband. Her counselor even said I seemed to refuse to participate in the sessions. I brooded, she said.
     Let me tell you, never go to a counselor named Regina Gloria Pascal. She's a mean woman and she don't like men.
     Anyway, I'm there with Tiffany Tiffany upset at me and I'm trying hard to listen but my privates are ruling my every thought.
     "Jeffrey," Tiffany Tiffany says again like it's the only thing she can think of to say. I begin to think I should gulp my wine and beat it out of there.
     "Why do people always call me Tiffany Tiffany. I'm not that hard to get to know. You can call me Tiffany, or maybe, Tiffie. Or Colleen. I always wanted to be called Colleen. It's my middle name, you know."
     She sat down and I saw that her hair was bigger than usual. All blonde and red and piled up on top of her head like she's some ancient goddess.
     "Okay, Tiffany," I say and I bite my tongue, yes I did, to keep from saying the second Tiffany.
     "You know I shouldn't tell you this, but, well, Rebeccah-Jean Oslow-Mankiewicz and me, well, we had this bet."
     And my cock wilted. A bet. I'm the butt of a bet and there's going to be no sex and John McTennerman was fooling with me to make Rebeccah-Jean happy. I gulped my glass of wine.
     "You see, Jeffrey, not to be indelicate. We had a contest." She pushed them tits into me and knocked me back on the couch. It was a big couch. You could take a nice nap on that couch and never feel your toes crunched. Even if you was six-foot-four.
     "Well, Jeffrey, the first one of us to get you into bed," Here Tiffany Tiffany gave a little giggle, like helium laughs after you sucked the air out of a balloon. "Well, hon, she's the winner all the time we have these contests. The fat cow. How does she get all these men. Sex is the game here and, Jeffrey, I want to win so bad, hon. That fat bitch beat me to Clarence Staypool when he was looking for a new wife. I wanted his money bad, Jeffrey. My mama's money is almost gone and I might have to get a job. What could I do, Jeffrey? Can you picture me typing or being a nurse?"
     "But Rebeccah-Jean thought she could marry Clarence and still have John McTennerman on the side. Clarence, he never would stand for that, but she had sex with him before I could nail him and he left town because of it. Would you admit to having sex with Rebeccah-Jean Oslow-Mankiewicz.
     "You know, she never even married Hiram Mankiewicz, just took his name and claimed she did. Why do you think she never filed a claim against his will when he died in that fire in Windgate Motel? It's not just because he was with Alce Purvee and Sarah LaPlante, let me tell you. She had no legal ground."
     Tiffany Tiffany sat next to me real close.
     "Do you know how dull it is selling Jesus on a stick, pumpkins on a cornstalk, Santa on a stick. Jeffrey, I want someone to take me away from all of this. You can do that Jeffrey. You can."
     She heaved a real big sigh with them big titties of hers and pressed them against me. "All you gotta do, Jeffrey is confess to Euphegenia's murder and let me sell your story. Okay, Jeffrey? I could be your agent, Jeffrey. I could make you a book deal and sell that to the highest bidder and I could handle the movie rights and I could play myself in the movie. Oh, Jeffrey, think of the possibilities you and me could make.
     "I'm talking millions of dollars here, Jeffrey, millions," and she heaved them knockers of hers again.
     At the mention of it, my little willie began to grow again and I was getting hot and bothered.
     And Tiffany Tiffany was ripping my clothes off and hooting and screaming and making me wish the night would never end. And there I was, naked on her sofa, my meat ready and primed and she's getting her clothes off so fast and laying them big bazoombies of hers on my face for me to suck and lick and she's riding me like I was Harold Whittacres's prize bull Merlin. That bastard bull has so many calves and none of them a slacker. And I'm as potent as that bastard bull ever was.
     And I'm whooping and hollering and Tiffany Tiffany is screaming and moaning and we are all over that fucking sofa like it was made for the whore house and it goes on and on and on and on and I ain't quitting and she ain't quitting and we go at it like animals in the mud.
     I AIN'T NEVER BEEN SO PROUD OF MY ABILITIES AND I AIN'T NEVER KNOWED I COULD DO IT IN SO TWISTED A WAY.
     But eventually we wind down and there's nothing more for us to do but lie there for a while. I must've slept with her for a couple of hours right there on that huge couch of hers with painted Jesus watching on and Halloween pumpkins and blank Santas and I think I must be in heaven.
     "Jeffrey, hon," Tiffany Tiffany finally says to me, "it's time to go."
     So I pick up all my clothes and hold on to them and she walks me to the door and kisses me ever so lightly. "Thanks, Jeffrey."
     And I'm standing on her deck, buck naked in the moonlight and not giving a damn. I walk to my car, fish my keys out of my pants pocket and throw them pants in the back seat. I'm damned proud of being naked tonight. Let everybody see me. I done fucked Tiffany Tiffany.
     Oh, and I got to remember to just call her Tiffany next time I see her. And it's time to go back to my room. Life done handed me a feast and I know I got to finish out all the auctions I got going and sell my computer and leave town. I don't care who's watching me, FBI, Mitchkey, Jimmy Poole. It's time to move on.
     I mean Tiffany Tiffany might be pretty good as an agent and she might've only slept with me because she thought I murdered Euphegenia Bunnton, but, hell, I'll have sex with Tiffany Tiffany anyway I can.
     And I did.

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