A.G.E's Joint

The cramps were back. A small scream came when the van hit the raised sewer; blue-white knuckles gripped the big pizza pan wheel. Jesus, riding this old horse always made them worse. Rubber bands twisting and tightening across her hips. Every month they got worse, like that bastard, Charlie Cramps.  Charles Stanley Wigginton IV, better known as Cramps, was the lizard prince of some hoity-toity north side family of shysters. But he became the King of the Silver Dollar instead, sitting all day on his barstool throne. Messy and painful 24/7, even the regulars hated Cramps. Holding court with his highball glass scepter, he delighted in barking orders and chasing ass. It didn’t matter who the ass belonged to, if it was in the house, it was fair game. One night, a girl shoved a tampon in his mouth, but it didn’t help. The sound kept leaking out and so did the help.    The bar, 14 th Gate, was, in his mind, the greatest concept ever. It wasn’t. With Fake antiques a...

Running through thick woods, he wondered why?  Branches and rocks littered the way, reaching up to grab and scratch his body.  Feet about 25 feet behind him.  Hurry up.  The fetid smell of rotted leaves and bodies ran up his nose as he jumped a large log.  The path cut sharply to the right here and broke into a large pasture.  He heard a thump and the cursing of his stepfather as he hit the log.   Across the field was an old farmhouse.  As he started towards it he wondered if there would be anyone there to help.  Over toward the right was a herd of cattle with a large bull standing guard.  The bull just stared as he came across.  As he approached the house, he could hear the clank of the shotgun.  He hits the steps…. “Randi!  Honey, are you alright? Wake up. “Kari asked as she shook him.  “You were yelling so loud I could hear you over the engine.  Anyway, we are at my house. Come on.  We’ll...

Damn, the cramps were starting again.  Kari hated driving with them.   As her stomach tightened, it reminded her of her boss. “Charlie Cramps. A fitting nickname”, she thought.  Only he was messy and a pain 24/7, not just once a month.  Always grabbing and wanting to fuck her.  And a tampon in the mouth didn’t shut him up.  She had just told him shove the job up his ass after flipping him over the bar.  She had spent the rest of the night with a bottle of Smirnoff she took on her way out.     Another swallow and Charlie Cramps would no longer be a memory. There was a bang and the VW Bus died as she pulled into the empty lot.    “Oh, God”, she thought.    What was it this time?    Rain soaked her bright red hair as she opened the engine bay and saw the missing belt. “It’s 3:00 fuckin’ AM.  Shit, what I am gonna do?”    She looked up and saw the lights of the a...