Authors: Edward Lee
The House (12 page)
"All right, here's what I'll do," he negotiated. "We've already got the two blowjobs and the two fucks, so all that's left is the shooter for the final scene..."
"Fuck that," Snowdrop insisted. "Sissy can do the shooter."
"Fuck you," Sissy spat back, "I always do the shooters—"
"Do not!"
"Do too! And I have to do most of everything anyway 'cos you're always passed out!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Shut up!" Leonard shouted.
The room fell silent, save for the pig's spare shimmies.
"Here's what I'll do. Give me the shooter, right now, and I'll give you one bag to split between you."
"Okay!"
"Okay!"
"Dainty!
"Finesse!"
That got them roused. There'd be hell to pay on Thursday when they were one bag short but Leonard would worry about that later. It was amazing what a prize at the end of the rainbow could compel people to do. Regardless of the pig's remonstrations, Snowdrop and Sissy worked together as a team. They got nipped a few times, and hooved, but after only another hour or two under the hot Dedolight LHB-4s, they managed to provide enough rough footage for a scene-lead and then...
The "shooter."
This was tricky, this was
very
tricky. Getting a pig to ejaculate externally was tough enough but
this?
A
shooter
scene?
very
tricky. Getting a pig to ejaculate externally was tough enough but
this?
A
shooter
scene?
The boned-up pig stood chortling in the middle of the room, uncomprehending and pissed off by what it had been subjected to these past few days. It clearly did
not
want to have sexual contact with human beings, so perhaps pigs came from a higher moral echelon than homo sapiens. (Well, it was something to consider anyway. The pig seemed to
know
that this was not right. But humans? Forget it!)
not
want to have sexual contact with human beings, so perhaps pigs came from a higher moral echelon than homo sapiens. (Well, it was something to consider anyway. The pig seemed to
know
that this was not right. But humans? Forget it!)
Sissy did most of the preludial attending, very gingerly touching and then stroking "Arnold's" sheathed penis. Eventually she was allowed to actually stroke the off-pink sheath back and forth over the penile bone (all male mammals possessed an actual bone in their penises which extended into the penile shaft when aroused. Primates were the only exceptions). Once the bone suitably filled the "erectile pass," that meant that the pig was gonna blow. "Snowdrop!" Sissy exclaimed. "Get the frying pan!"
Leonard got down on his knees for the C.U. while Snowdrop stumbled back with the inexplicable Teflon I frying pan.
A frying pan?
The utensil served as the necessary collection device. Getting the pig to squirt directly into a shot glass, of course, would've been impossible, but with the frying pan—
"Give me that, you stoner!" Sissy griped and took the pan from Snowdrop. Snowdrop, a moment later, sidled over and passed out on the floor.
"Careful, careful," Leonard warned. His eye was pressed to the Canon's eyepiece. "You've got to get it all in the pan for the camera—"
"He's getting ready, I think—"
Sissy hunkered down, one hand still stroking Arnold's pig dick, the other holding the fry pan in the target area. The pig's dick, by the way—now that the skin-sheath was retracted—shone a bright glistening pink and looked...well, kind of corkscrewy, akin to its tail. Arnold's intermittent chortles staid just then; Sissy stroked faster and—
"There he goes!"
Leonard got it all in the shot: a spectacular pig ejaculation. It drizzled down rather wildly, and most of it was indeed caught by the frying pan.
"Good, Arnold!" Sissy rewarded. "That's a good little pig!"
Goddamn right,
Leonard thought. The pig's overall reaction to climaxing was not profound. It merely stood there, came in the fry pan, and that was that. Then it belted out a few grunts and hurried away.
Leonard thought. The pig's overall reaction to climaxing was not profound. It merely stood there, came in the fry pan, and that was that. Then it belted out a few grunts and hurried away.
"Okay," Leonard continued directing. He pulled the camera back, meticulous to keep the fry pan in frame continuously. If it disappeared for even a single frame, then the customer would dismiss it all as fake, and that was not allowed, no, not in Mafia animal movies. "You know what to do," Leonard croaked.
Tragically, Sissy did. She sat on the floor with the fry pan in her naked lap, then carefully offered the camera a view of the contents. (Pig sperm, for those interested, was quite unlike the human variety. Pretty much just water with long infinitesimal white threads floating in it.) "Slowly now," Leonard instructed, pulling back a little more. "Don't spill any..."
Sissy slowly poured the pig sperm from the frying pan into a shot glass. Leonard zoomed in. Focused now and followed the shot glass up to Sissy's face. Then she brought the glass to her lips and shot it back, and there they had it. The "shooter" scene.
Leonard maintained the hold as Sissy swallowed it, licked her lips and opened her mouth as proof.
Then she threw up on the floor.
««—»»
The pig flick, now, was officially over. As promised, Leonard gave the girls one bag of heroin to split amongst them; they scampered to their room like gleeful cadavers, and Leonard suspected that they'd be out of his hair till morning.
He was wrong.
Just as he was tuning in GTB and preparing to process the last of the film, he was beckoned.
"Leonard!"
"Bad,
bad
pig!"
bad
pig!"
Oh, man. What's wrong now?
Leonard wondered.
Leonard wondered.
He tromped back to the girls' room, not calculating anything of serious note...until he heard—
"What the hell's going on in there!" he bellowed and broke into a trot.
The noise which issued from the back room came as a collision of outraged female shrieks, high-pitched pig squeals, and a steady clunking and thrashing. It sounded like a rumble in there.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
And what accompanied each WHACK was a gust of something part mewl, part shimmy, like someone impacting a dog toy with a stick.
Only the sticks, in this case, were a couple of two-by-fours, and the dog toy...was the pig.
Sissy and Snowdrop were beating "Arnold" with the two-by-fours.
The sight held Leonard in a momentary stasis. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He stood there and stared. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! His mouth hung open and his arms drooped at his sides. In only seconds the two naked 90-pound girls had successfully beaten the pig to the floor.
"Motherfuckin' pig!" Snowdrop maniacally screamed.
"Give it back!" Sissy shrieked.
"Gonna send you to pig heaven, fucker!"
"Bad,
bad
pig!"
bad
pig!"
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
More incredulous staring on Leonard's part. He seemed frozen by this spectacle. Now the pig lay bloodied and quivering on the floor. A few futile chortles then, a few shivers. Then it threw up and died.
Leonard snapped. "You assholes! You killed the pig!" He thunked immediately to his knees and uselessly applied his hands to the pig in some unknown gesture. He felt no heartbeat nor pulse. Nothing. Nothing but a plume of pig puke and a dead Chester pig.
"It ate our smack!" Sissy defiantly yelled.
"Yeah!" Snowdrop joined her. "The little fucker scarfed our skag."
Leonard looked up, fire in his eyes. "You're telling me that the pig
ate
your heroin?"
ate
your heroin?"
Sissy was trembling, her waxpaper-like skin glazed with the sweat of exertion. "Damn right, Leonard! We worked hard for that junk and the pig came in here and started biting us and he ate it."
"
The pig ate the heroin?!
" Leonard bellowed again.
The pig ate the heroin?!
" Leonard bellowed again.
Snowdrop countered, her tiny tit-flaps waving in her tirade: "We were about to fire up and the little fucker barges in here trying to eat us, and the bag of junk was on the floor and he ate it! He ate the candles too!"
Leonard felt fit to cry.
The pig ate the heroin. The girls killed the pig.
Could anything've been more ludicrous? Leonard put his face in his hands.
The pig ate the heroin. The girls killed the pig.
Could anything've been more ludicrous? Leonard put his face in his hands.
"Don't you girls realize that Rocco's coming back here on Friday? He's coming to pick up the movie. And you know what else he's coming to pick up? He's coming to pick up the pig. So what am I going to tell him? ‘Gee, Mr. Rocco, sorry. The girls beat the pig to death with two-by-fours'? That won't float! He'll kill us!"
The tenor of Leonard's complaint, and the implication that came with it, had little effect. "We don't care, Leonard!" Sissy shrilled.
"Yeah," Snowdrop added. "We need more junk!"
"Give us our junk, Leonard!"
"Yeah!"
"That goddamn pig you made us fuck ate our bag, so give us more!"
Leonard could only continue staring. They didn't care about living. They only cared about heroin.
Fuck it,
Leonard reasoned. He reached into his pocket and tossed the remaining bags of heroin at them. "Here. Shoot yourselves to Palookaville."
Fuck it,
Leonard reasoned. He reached into his pocket and tossed the remaining bags of heroin at them. "Here. Shoot yourselves to Palookaville."
The girls fell on the bags like a fumble drill, squealing exuberance. Leonard leaned over and began to drag the dead pig out of the room.
««—»»
"It's 1977! I hope I go to heaven!" Joe Strummer gruffly belted out from the first Clash album. Zyra's show on WGTB started at 9 p.m. every Monday night—this new stuff called Punk Rock. Groups with what Leonard thought of as silly and pretentious names like the Adverts, the Vibrators, Johnny Mo-ped, the Stranglers, and some bunch of frivolous idiots called the Sex Pistols. Leonard didn't much care for it; it seemed to portend the future's end of music.
Where's Phil Manzanera when I need him?
But at least this new Punk stuff beat the Starland Vocal Band. X-Ray Specks broke into "Oh Bondage Up Yours" as Leonard dragged the pig across the living room floor.
Where's Phil Manzanera when I need him?
But at least this new Punk stuff beat the Starland Vocal Band. X-Ray Specks broke into "Oh Bondage Up Yours" as Leonard dragged the pig across the living room floor.
What I am gonna do now?
he worried.
What's Rocco going to say?
Leonard supposed burying the pig was his only recourse. He could say it got away or something. Shit, he didn't know. To make matters worse, after the next tug of the pig's hind legs, its bowel voided, leaving curls of excrement on the floor, and it was at that very moment when—
he worried.
What's Rocco going to say?
Leonard supposed burying the pig was his only recourse. He could say it got away or something. Shit, he didn't know. To make matters worse, after the next tug of the pig's hind legs, its bowel voided, leaving curls of excrement on the floor, and it was at that very moment when—
Oh, man!
—there was a knock at the door.
««—»»
"You're the girl in the—" but then Leonard cut it off quick. What could he say?
When I was splicing the end title footage on Two Mules for Sister Snowdrop, I got a quick hold of your face in the b.g.
When I was splicing the end title footage on Two Mules for Sister Snowdrop, I got a quick hold of your face in the b.g.
"Can I come in?" his visitor hurried, looking over her shoulder. And, yes, there was no doubt.
The same girl behind the hedge,
Leonard couldn't deny. A spartan black ankle-dress, clunky black shoes, billowed sleeves with white cuffs, and the white tie-down bonnet with tendrils of blond hair escaping. Before Leonard could even think about inviting her in, she squeezed by him in the doorway as if fleeing killers.
The same girl behind the hedge,
Leonard couldn't deny. A spartan black ankle-dress, clunky black shoes, billowed sleeves with white cuffs, and the white tie-down bonnet with tendrils of blond hair escaping. Before Leonard could even think about inviting her in, she squeezed by him in the doorway as if fleeing killers.
"Fuck," she said and sighed when he closed the door. "Thanks."
"What's, uh— I mean—"
"I'm Esther, I just snuck out of the compound and I think my fuckin' brother saw me."
But Leonard was stunned.
The compound?
"You must be one of the...Epiphanites," he finally voiced. "Any relation to Rector Solomon?"
The compound?
"You must be one of the...Epiphanites," he finally voiced. "Any relation to Rector Solomon?"
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