Jamie was a sharp, young convincing man in need of a reasonable pull. Nasty, disturbing, preposterous thoughts and habits were all Jamie knew ever since he was a child.
When he was five, his father Arnold generally crowed about woman's breasts and how they ought to use them should a prickly situation arise. Could be a hostage situation, for example. Arnold knew it in his bones that if he was blessed with breasts not only would he find a way to have fun, he could find a way to negotiate practically through every situation that should arise.
Arnold would also preach how women over time can lure you in by being a bitch; and if they were a bitch to start out with, they’ll probably still be a bitch after a fifth of vodka.
From all his father’s teachings Jamie had learned better. Learned better than to keep his thoughts to himself just like his father. Even though he never quite understood his father’s methods thoroughly, he was under the impression that if he could be an ass to some people, he would. It was funny.
If a hard working woman had a nappy crotch, he would feel compelled to give her a little of his mind.
“Perhaps a brillo pad,” he would say to Ms. Johoblow, the Safeway janitor Monday through Friday. He wasn’t suggesting scrubbing a bathroom. After she forcefully inserted his finger into her vagina twice (although he never really put any effort into stopping her), he figured it be OK to give her some constructive criticism about the bathroom rapes.
On Saturday, he would stalk the principal of a nearby Elementary school, Ms. Gooch. She is a stupid, stupid woman. She tends to slip-up when it comes to Jamie. Gooch leaves her driver’s side window rolled down each Monday out of habit.
Jamie would delicately squeeze an unadulterated piece of ‘poop’ through her window each Monday, also out of habit. For being a former teacher, and the head of an entire school full with little children, she sure was an absent-minded person to let some random dude shit through her driver’s side window in the faculty parking lot on a weekly basis.
Jamie could not figure why even after two months, she still left just enough of an air pocket (an inch) for him to squeeze one through with his fingers if needed. For him to stop (she had caught him running away a couple times) his demands were simple:
The deal was, she would have to wiggle his wrench. Then let him gracefully dispose of his ‘mushy pork’ in her ear while she enthusiastically shouts “Another one bites the dust, HEY!” Queen for ‘Queen’
Fortunately for Jamie, Ms. Gooch finally gave in to his demands. That night, they rode back to her apartment to settle things once and for all. Jamie was filled with perspiration; so much that he peed just a little every time they came to a stop sign.
Her apartment was amazing to Jamie. Carrot top and Richards Simmons posters flooded the walls.
Gooch first broke the silence. “So unzip your pants and let’s do this thing.”
This would be easy for Jamie. The posters made it so motivationally right.
The time had finally come; the same time Jamie thought should have come after shitting through Gooch’s car in front of elementary kids every week. He thought about how he never agreed to stop doing any of this, and laughs to himself.
Almost instantly after recalling his fun times with Gooch, she grabs his stick violently with her left hand. From behind her desk (near the front door they came in) she reveals a hedge trimmer.
Jamie couldn’t help but say, "Is this how you make bastard children?"
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