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Snake Scape

Snake Scape

Copyright © 2016 by Wendy Lucier

Python Publishing™

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any

form or by any electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of

brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews – without written

permission from its publisher.

pennytawret@gmail.com

Wendy “Scales” Lucier

“I said, can I help you, Mr. Linton?” Jenni repeated in a more coarse

tone at the awkward pause from Donna’s douchebag father, Daniel

Linton as he stared dead in her eyes at her and all the rest of us behind

the front door and the living room, putting on his best and most sad

attempt at a poker face in order to cover up the growing sense of dread

and fear which I could purely smell deep inside of him. “I’m here to see

my daughter.” He answered simply, his voice ringing out in a rather

hilarious and utterly amusing shaky baritone muddle. “Why?” Frost

growled in question. “So you could bust a .38 cap in her just the same as

you did her brother, George? Hell to the fuck no. I don’t think so.”

“Please just let me step inside for a moment. There was someone

inside.” “Yeah. And we’re lookin’ right at him.” I cut in, steadily

beginning to lick my pearly whites. “Tell me why I really shouldn’t just

eat you up along with your bullshit lies right now.” “Because I’m here.”

Donna’s voice rang out from behind as she padded rather nimbly for her

heavyset form down the stairs, dressed lightly in only her bathrobe and

her night bra, and still dripping speckles of water; having just exited the

shower not even two minutes ago into this little scene. “Good old,

Danny boy.” She cooed, cynically with a sadistic grin forming across her

muzzle. “Just the nigga I need to see. Now, I ain’t seen you in about

twelve years, nigga. I’m all grown up now though.” She thumped her

chest so cleverly in a way that even Jenni and both Sekhmet behind her

had a hell of a hard time discerning whether she was actually being

realistic or just downright humorously sinister. “Give a nigga a hug, pa.”

Dan just stood there frozen in time, almost as if the form he had just

seen of his actual daughter had somehow been her ghostly spirit

returning for a visit from her chosen next life. After he stood there for

what seemed like nearly eternities on end, he finally turned and then said

quickly, “I’m bout to go-…” Before he could even lift one Nike

sneakered foot off the steps onto the cobblestone sidewalk, I rushed out

at striking serpentine speed and snatched him fully back inside the house

before both Jenni and Tawret heaved him like a flattened basketball

toward the wide and waiting arms of Donna. “Now, you know down

here in the county,” Donna began as I chilly just sat back with all the rest

of the crew and watched our favorite feline do her thing. Tawret and

Taniel let out a few uncontrollable sniggers around me to my right while

Emma, Gevo, and Sekhmet propped their feet up on the little marble

coffee table by the living room sofa; munching smugly on bags of

cracker jacks and Kool-aide packs. “It ain’t nothin’ but the fellas, nigga.”

Donna went on. “Ay, we got to _care _ about each other.” “Oh, yes. Most

definitely, my sweet baby girl. I feel ya right there-… Nawww!” Just as

quick as the flip of a light switch, Donna closed her grip in a serpentine

like vice around his neck so hard to the point where I could see his big

sun yellow eyes bulging like a praying mantis’ out of his head and Jenni,

Tawret, Jera, Taniel, and all the whole rest of the crew nearly dropping

dead from laughter at the strange and peculiar sight. “I heard you

mothafuckers at Top Dollar Records were the ones that clapped George

last week.” She snarled. “Tryin’ to take back his _songs _ and shit!” “Pl-pl-

please, Donnie. Please, girl.” Dan struggled to get out in barely an

audible whisper. “I can damn near explain everything, but just please, let

your old pappy get a breather or two girl. Come on, now!” “Okay,

sweetie. That’s enough.” Sekhmet jovially cut in. “Let us see what this

clown has to honk out of his ass for us to say.”


Snake Scape

  • ISBN: 9781370910489
  • Author: Mixy Boothroyd
  • Published: 2016-08-03 02:20:06
  • Words: 742
Snake Scape Snake Scape