How Hard Can It Be

by Robyn Peterman

  Chapter 8

  “So, can you read that back to me?” I asked a crimson-faced Cecil.

  I wasn’t sure if he was appalled, embarrassed, or simply grossed out. Shoshanna seemed stupefied and I was on a roll.

  After getting back to the mansion, I’d brushed my teeth, put my sweats back on, and began my guerrilla warfare. I was going to take the bitch down and no one was going to stop me.

  “Are you sure this is what you meant?” he asked.

  “Oh yes, very sure. Now read it,” I barked.

  “But is this the beginning?” he whispered, thinking if he spoke quietly he might escape my crazy.

  No. Such. Luck.

  “Yes, it’s the beginning,” I rolled my eyes. “The book will be written in a series of nonconsecutive flashbacks and flash-forwards to signify the time-traveling element. It’s the new thing that the buying public doesn’t realize it wants yet. Read it.”

  Cecil fidgeted uncomfortably and Shoshanna rocked back and forth, trying not to cackle. We were holed up in a disgusting mauve pink office littered with fornicating statuettes somewhere in the Monster Mansion. Evangeline was cleaning my vomitous gift off, but still had the wherewithal to demand we begin working before she retired to her dungeon. Thankfully, I had no alone time with Shoshanna. It would be very difficult to hide today’s events from her, but I would. Too many lives depended on my silence. I might be a loose cannon, but I was a loyal friend and daughter. No one fucked with my people. And if they tried . . . they would pay.

  Evangeline was about to pay through the nose.

  “Read it,” I snapped.

  Cecil blanched, but he read.

  “I have a date with Mork and Mindy,” Pirate Dave told Shirley, looking down at her with pity.

  He yanked on his plaid breeches and ran his hands through his greasy hair. He picked several lice from his chest fur and smashed them with his bare hand. He briefly considered bathing, but decided against it. A manly smell was something he prided himself on. Besides, he had bathed two weeks ago last Sunday.

  “Whatever do you mean, my cocksman extraordinaire?” Shirley screamed, confused by his behavior. She shoved her ample bosom back into her corset and fluffed her fiery red curls. She had just performed thirteen disgusting sex acts for her lover. How could he not be satisfied with her acrobatic performance?

  Pirate Dave glanced over at the formerly conjoined twin and realized, much to his surprise, he’d been more attracted to her when she was attached to her bitch of a sister, Laverne. He wondered if Captain Hook could sew them back together . . . His warlock powers would not work on such a major feat as rejoining separated conjoined twins. Maybe he could time travel back to 1974 or possibly 1983 and have Johns Hopkins Hospital rejoin them. After all, they’d been the scurvy bastards who’d separated the twins in the first place. It mattered not to him that he had demanded the operation. He was a pirate and pirates were known for changing their minds, if not their underpants.

  “My well-hung love, have I offended you?” Shirley shrieked. “Is there something you want me to do?” she bellowed.

  Pirate Dave slapped his hands over his ears. Goddamn if she wasn’t the loudest harpy he’d ever heard. He was sure his eardrums were bleeding after having spent the last twenty-six hours humping her. Her rack was beyond stupendous, but the voice . . . The voice was enough to make a man want to cut his own testicles off with a butter knife.

  Cecil finished reading to complete and utter silence. He popped his neck and stared at the ceiling. I bit my lip and lowered my head. I knew if I made eye contact with Shoshanna I would lose it.

  “Would you please read the next section?” I politely inquired a mortified Cecil.

  “Was that a chapter?” he asked.

  “Yes, we are going to do something new with the chapter system.”

  Shoshanna and Cecil waited to hear exactly what we were going to do. I wondered the same thing myself . . .

  “We won’t have chapters, per se. Just . . . um, vignettes, about four hundred and ninety-six or ninety-eight of them. Possibly six hundred. The table of contents will be a bit long, but whatever.” I grinned at a pale Cecil and a delighted Shoshanna. “Cecil, please continue.”

  “Ooookay,” he muttered.

  Laverne bitch-slapped Captain Crunchy, knocking out two of his gold teeth. She was tired of playing second fiddle to his blow-up doll Susan. He screamed like a little girl, grabbed his plastic lover, and left. What was a formerly conjoined twin to do? Life without her sister, even though she hated her, was lonely.

  Laverne smoothed her wild red locks and gingerly scratched her nether regions. That bastard Long Dong Silver had definitely given her something. Long Dong was soon to be dong-less. She made a mental note to call Dr. Smee and get some antibiotics. Thank God for time travel. Meds like antibiotics hadn’t even been invented yet, but thankfully the shit-ass vampire warlock had had the forethought to get the good stuff. It would suck to die from screwing.

  Why Pirate Dave had chosen her sister over her, she would never understand. Shirley’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Of course, Shirley was nice and had bigger tatas, but the voice . . .

  Laverne paced her small stinky cabin on the ship and made new plans to off her sister and Pirate Dave. If Pirate Dave didn’t want her, he didn’t deserve to live. She felt better now. She decided to behead them on Saturday at the bingo tournament. She figured since he was a vampire, beheading would be a sure form of death. She pondered forcing him to turn her into a vampire before she decapitated him. Living for all eternity would mean she could screw hundreds of thousands of men. Hmmm.

  “I will become the first female captain ever!” Laverne hissed to no one in particular since she was alone. Again.

  She wondered if more people might like her if she became a captain . . . No matter, she would demand everyone like her and she would castrate anyone who defied her. She took a deep cleansing breath and congratulated herself on her outstanding scheme.

  Little did she know, Calico Andy the Mind Reader was standing outside her smelly abode and knew of her dastardly plans! He’d been trying to get into Laverne’s pants for two weeks and three days, only to be shot down due to his small man-package, dirty fingernails, and halitosis. He chuckled to himself, realizing she would soon be his. Blackmail was a beautiful thing . . .

  Again, my story was greeted with silence. Eerie silence.

  “So Cecil, what do you think?” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a hard stare, daring him to insult my masterpiece.

  “I think it’s um, it’s . . . uhhh—” He fumbled for words that wouldn’t induce my wrath. I almost felt sorry for him, but I kept reminding myself what a rat bastard he was.

  “I think it’s thought-provoking and sexy in a realistic, somewhat unclean, fucked-up way. Definitely a hit with the twenty-five to forty-three-ish demographic,” Shoshanna chimed in, clearly trying to tamp down the hysterics threatening to explode from her little self. “It’s different from anything I’ve ever read or have ever in my life wanted to read, but hey, the way of the future is the way of the future.” She gagged on her laughter and excused herself to the bathroom.

  I eyed Cecil warily. I didn’t want to go too far too quickly. I needed to ruin Evangeline, but Cecil couldn’t be in on the joke. He was on her team and I couldn’t forget that. It didn’t matter that she treated him worse than a dog . . . he was still the bad guy.

  “That will be all, Cecil. My creative juices come in spurts and I’m very tired from all the action today. Thank you, you may go.”

  He stood up reluctantly. I knew in my gut he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent. That was probably better for both of us. I could not under any circumstances feel anything for him.

  I turned back to dismiss him again, but he was gone. I collapsed onto a hot pink poor excuse for a couch and shoved my hands into my pockets. I pulled my knees up to my chest and tried to become as small as I could. Disappearing wasn’t an option, but oh,
how I wish it was. I hated my life, and I hated the bitch who now controlled it even more.

  What the hell was in my pocket? I pulled out a card and my hand began to tremble. Jack . . . the man of my dreams. The cop. His card lay crumpled in my hand. There was no way I could call him. He thought I was a thief and a restraining-order-breaker. It didn’t matter that the chemistry was out of this world and that I would probably step in front of a train to save his life or that I was already half in love with him, and I couldn’t get the image of him handcuffing me to my bed out of my brain . . . it wasn’t meant to be. Ever. Crap, crap, crap.

  Hell, how many lives besides my own could I ruin in one day? I would not take him down with me. There was still a fine chance I might do some bodily harm to Evangeline and get arrested again. A cop can’t date, have sex with, or marry a convicted murderer.

  Out of all the things that had gone wrong today, one of my biggest regrets would be never seeing Jack again. I slowly shredded my future, ripping Jack’s card into tiny pieces. Just in case I was tempted to put it back together, I swallowed it. Of course I gagged and almost threw up again, but there was nothing left in my stomach after my earlier performance. I flopped back on the couch and proceeded to give in to the need that had been pressing on me for hours . . . I cried. Hard.

  Thankfully it took Shoshanna about a half an hour in the bathroom to pull herself back together. Clearly my story had affected her deeply or she’d peed in her pants and had to let them air dry. Regardless, that reprieve gave me enough time to sob my heart out and freshen back up. I couldn’t let my little LeHump know that anything was amiss.

  “Are you hungry?” Shoshanna asked upon her return, plopping herself down next to me and putting her feet up on the pink marble coffee table.

  “Actually, I am,” I laughed, surprising myself. Usually when I’m distraught I can’t eat, but I suppose emptying my stomach earlier made me hungry. I placed my feet on the ugly coffee table next to my little buddy’s.

  “Good. Nancy, Joanne, and Poppy Harriet will be here in about five minutes with lunch. I can’t guarantee it’s edible”—she grinned—“but it will be made with love.”

  “I thought only Nancy was coming.”

  “Yeah, but after I told her about the weird morning, they all decided to come and make sure you’re okay . . . Are you okay?”

  “Um, yes . . . I am.”

  I gave Shoshanna a smile and squeezed her hands. What I really wanted to do was curl up next to her and bawl, but there was no time for self-pity. I’d made my bed, and I would lie in it. Alone. For the rest of my life. Shit.

  “Would you like to explain why the evil sow was covered in vomit and why you left alone and came back with the silicone skank and her evil henchman?”

  It was going to be difficult to pull stuff over on LeHump, but since her life, mine, and several others depended on it, I had no choice.

  “Yeah, but can it wait till the girls get here? I don’t want to tell this one twice.”

  “No prob. Hey, that was one hell of a story you pulled out of your ass,” she said, grinning.

  “Thanks. Unfortunately it’s beginning to come naturally.”

  “Well, it made me pee my pants. Literally.” Shoshanna shouted gleefully, “I can’t wait for the upchuck story.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” I muttered.

  I still had no idea what I was going to say. All I knew for sure was that I wouldn’t be telling the truth. Hell, I was going to have to keep a notebook full of all the lies I told or I was going to be in some deep shit.

  On cue the ladies arrived, bearing a scary tuna hot dish, snickerdoodles, chicken wild rice soup, and wine in a box. Nancy spread out the Minnesota-style feast on the ugly pink marble coffee table, pulled out her robin’s-egg-blue travel dishes, and we all dug in. I avoided the crumbled-cracker-covered cream of mushroom tuna concoction and stuck to the wild rice soup, snickerdoodles, and wine. Which, by the way, wasn’t half bad.

  Kristy would be appalled that I drank wine from a box. She was a wine snob, but I’m sure when she found out Professor Sue liked it, it would become her new favorite thing.

  I noticed all the gals, except Nancy, sniffing their food cautiously before eating it. They appeared to sniff only when Nancy wasn’t looking. What in the hell was that about? I almost laughed when Shoshanna gave Poppy Harriet and Joanne the thumbs-up, clearly the cue that the food was edible, or at least not poisonous.

  “Love the plates, Nancy,” Joanne enthused with a mouthful of Tasty Tuna Surprise.

  “Two twenty-five last fall at a mega yard sale,” Nancy informed our lunch bunch proudly.

  “Two hundred and twenty-five dollars?” I choked out, examining the scratched blue plastic plate with shock.

  “Oh, sweet holy mother of baby Jesus, no!” Nancy laughed. “Two dollars and twenty-five cents for a set of sixty.”

  “You are the bargain queen, my friend,” LeHump yelled, helping herself to more wine in a box. “Oh shit, I forgot to tell you guys . . . I’m getting divorced,” she announced, holding up her blue plastic coffee cup of merlot.

  “Congratulations!” Poppy Harriet squealed. “Did Kevin meet someone?”

  “He did,” Shoshanna said proudly. “A nice young man named Steve. Steve has a job and doesn’t seem to be a man-whore.”

  “Will the divorce take long?” Joanne asked, with a mouth full of snickerdoodle. “Maybe you should go to Mexico. I hear they can do one in twenty minutes.”

  “Shoshanna, you must be so proud. He’s such a good boy. Do you think they’ll adopt?” Nancy inquired as she spooned a heaping pile of Tuna Surprise onto my plate. It looked suspiciously like my earlier gift to Evangeline.

  “No clue, but Kevin would make such a good daddy and I’d love to be a grandma. God knows Sue Junior doesn’t want kids. Last week she told me she didn’t think our DNA should be passed on. She’s such a bullheaded bitch.”

  “Like mother, like daughter,” Poppy Harriet laughed.

  “Yeah,” Shoshanna chuckled, “but I think she’s a lot more like her daddy, Herm. Talk about a great lay . . . In his day that man could go six times in one night! He would be so damn happy for Kevin.”

  “Are you positive Steve isn’t a man-whore?” Joanne nervously ran her fingers over her nonexistent eyebrows.

  “Kevin feels quite confident, and they’ve been dating for nine months.”

  “That’s all well and good, but his last boyfriend, Timothy, turned out to be a stripper and a hooker,” Joanne huffed. “Do you want me to do a background check on this Steve character?”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” LeHump nodded to Joanne.

  “All I can say is thank God! That’s one less thing the Botox Bitch has on us!” Poppy Harriet trilled.

  “Harriet!” Joanne hissed.

  They all froze. It was like Joanne had thrown ice water on all of them. No one would make eye contact with me . . . then they all started talking at once.

  What the fuck is going on? Am I in the twilight zone? I am confused and grossed out and . . . confused. I have absolutely no idea what my insane gal pals are talking about and I’m afraid to ask . . . but asking questions I don’t want the answers to is a talent of mine.

  “All of you need to stop talking,” I said, standing up and moving away from the lump of tuna bile on my plate. “I am so fucking confused, I’m dizzy. First I mistakenly think Nancy paid an obscene amount of money for plastic dishes, then I think I just heard that Shoshanna is married to a gay man named Kevin who found himself a non-man-whore named Steve, so he wants a divorce. And her baby-daddy Herm sounds like he might have erectile dysfunction like Pirate Dave. Why on earth did you kick someone who can get it up six times a night to the curb for a gay man who’s looking for a non-man-whore? And why did Kevin date a stripper-hooker while he was married to LeHump? And why in the hell was he or is he married to LeHump? And what does the viper bitch from hell have to do with any of this?”

  “Oh dear,” Nancy giggled, tu
cking her neat gray bob behind her ears, “I suppose this conversation does sound a little odd to someone without the backstory.”

  “You think?” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “May I?” LeHump asked, clearly offering to explain.

  “Please do.” I sat back down. Nancy handed me my plate and a fork. Shit, I couldn’t eat Tasty Tuna Surprise, no matter how sweet Nancy was.

  “Herm, or Mr. Wonder Pecker, as I used to call him, died about six years ago,” she said.

  Did she just say Mr. Wonder Pecker? My Pirate Dave stories were beginning to sound tame compared to LeHump’s real life.

  “Of gallbladder complications,” Nancy chimed in. “He was the love of Shoshanna’s life.”

  “He was. We were married forty-four years”—LeHump smiled fondly—“and I miss him every day.” She paused and looked to the heavens. As cheesy as the moment was, my eyes welled with tears. “So anyway, our gay neighbor Kevin was going to get deported back to Canada because his work visa had expired. Herm, besides being Superman in the sack, was slightly psychic and had a feeling he was going to die. He suggested Kevin and I get married when he kicked the bucket. I told him he was full of shit, not about marrying Kevin—I had no problem marrying a gay man as lovely as Kevin so he could get a green card. Herm was full of shit about dying.”

  “Unfortunately, he wasn’t,” Poppy Harriet whispered.

  “He wasn’t,” Shoshanna agreed. “So after Herm’s funeral, Kevin and I got married.”

  “Oh my God, do a lot of people know about this?” I was so shocked, I mindlessly took a bite of Tasty Tuna Surprise. It was pretty good.

  “Hell no,” Shoshanna laughed, “only the women in this room and Kevin. And I suppose Steve knows.”