Polly relaxed and nodded. Then she slipped into the sleeping bag. The other teens relaxed as well. They curled into their sleeping bags, and waited for Gary to begin his story again. John bounced his feet and began walking through the teenagers. He bent over and inserted a spike. “What’s he doing?” Ashley asked.
“He’s putting those spikes in so he can make sure nothing tries to crawl in with your kids. It keeps the snakes out.” Gary said while running his hand up and down the woman’s back.
“He just carries tent spikes around?” Todd asked as he watched the fat man stick the metal spike through an eyelet at the top corner of his sleeping bag.
“My boy takes his camping very seriously. It’s why we do it so much. He doesn’t really care about much else, but for some reason he just loves to camp. So every chance I get we go out. He might not be able to be allowed to roam around, but my boy can pitch a tent with the best of them.” Gary chuckled.
John finished spiking the last sleeping bag, and then wandered back to the campfire. She flopped down beside Ashley again and stared dreamily into the fire. It was clear there was nothing else in the world for the man except that roaring campfire.
“So where was I?” Gary asked.
“You killed Twilight.” Polly grumbled, “Remember…you promised.”
“Oh yeah. So anyway Bobby stayed up most of the night listening to Colton and Sarah going at it like to horny…well…teenagers.” Gary laughed. “So come sunrise Wayne Tripp…the guy who watched his wife eat their daughter…loaded his wife and daughter’s body into the trunk of his car. Then he showered, and called the daycare to make sure they’d be able to take his son David. That’s the little boy his wife Pauline called Dootsie. The guy’s brain just sort of snapped. I can’t say I blame him. Anyway his plan was-“
“Wait!” John stood up bent over in front of the campfire and laughed, “Watch!” He farted into the campfire, and a fireball shot up when his gas hit the fire. The boys all began laughing, and the girls cringed and looked disgusted.
“Well…that was…something.” Ashley said nervously as she tried to avoid sounding too disapproving. She didn’t want to upset the man holding her. It felt so good that she just wanted to stay right there with the man.
Gary wasn’t so approving, “Boy…I told you we don’t do stuff like that in front of people. Now get your ass back over there and lay down. You aren’t too big for me to tan your ass!”
“John flopped down on the ground beside Ashley again, “Yes Daddy.” He looked genuinely apologetic.
“That’s better.” Gary said, and then he continued the story. Meanwhile, John just watched the fire as a slow grin began growing on his face.
Chapter Thirty
“Come on Dootsie…Daddy’s gotta get you to Daycare.” Wayne sniffled. It’d taken most of the night, but the man had cleaned up the house and loaded his wife and daughter’s bodies into the trunk of his Toyota. He was sure that Pauline wouldn’t have wanted the police to find the house a mess. Getting the refrigerator back upright and then cleaning the blood off had been the hardest thing. He still wished he could do something about the dents. The George Foreman grill was a complete loss. In the end he just decided to load the grill into the car with Pauline and Hannah.
Wayne called the daycare just after he had everything cleaned up. It was a simple plan. He’d drop his son off with them, and then on the way home he’d unbuckle his seatbelt and drive into one of the cement pillars holding up one of the bridges. Then he could be with his wife and daughter again. The daycare would take care of Dootsie until child services took the boy later. He thought about taking his son with them, but he loved the boy and wanted him to have the best life he could. If there’d been any way that he could have raised the child then Wayne would have halted his plans right then, but he already could see the writing on the wall. Nobody would believe Pauline just attacked him out of the blue. Considering how badly he beat her when he killed her, he’d be lucky if they didn’t blame him for Hannah’s death as well.
It seemed to Wayne that the police would take one look at Pauline and Hannah, and then he’d be on a fast track to Death Row. Who was going to believe him? Most everyone that knew him wondered why Pauline had stayed with him this long. They’d probably think she tried to leave him, and that’s when Wayne snapped. No matter how Wayne tried to look at it…he was going to spend the rest of his life in jail. Not that it would have mattered because as far as he was concerned, his life ended when Pauline’s did.
She’d been the best thing that ever happened to him…even if it was an accident. He’d been dumped by his girlfriend, and went out to a strip club with his buddies because they were sick of watching him mope around. That’s where he met the mother of his children. Pauline wasn’t one of the dancers, although she was the prettiest woman in the place. Pauline was a bartender at the club. She kept pouring him drinks, and he kept telling her stories about how he really missed his ex-girlfriend. Somewhere between being fairly drunk and completely shit-faced a guy at the club grabbed Pauline’s shirt and tried to pull it up to see her breasts. Wayne punched him in the face, and the man promptly proceeded in kicking the shit out of him.
Wayne’s friends tried to pull the man off of him, and then the bouncers at the club went after Wayne’s friends. The whole club started fighting. Strippers were diving off their stages onto customers. One man was actually stabbed in the ass with a nine-inch heel. Meanwhile Wayne was still having the crap beat out of him by a man twice his size. Of course he was so drunk he was seeing double, and unfortunately he kept trying to punch the wrong version of the man. He’d aim for the chin, punch, and hit the chin. Unfortunately the chin he was hitting was about eighteen inches to the left of the real chin of the man that was beating him. If he’d been a little more sober he might have started punching the other version of the man, but instead he just tried to punch harder and faster.
The larger man would have probably beaten him to death if Pauline hadn’t taken the tip jar and broken it over his head. It stopped the big man from beating Wayne, and instead he stood up and started slapping Pauline around. Wayne eventually stood up and grabbed the cash register and threw it at the man’s back. His aim was off, and it hit a table beside the man. Fortunately, the table wasn’t made very well. The tabletop broke at tipped over. It smacked the man as he was about to slap Pauline once more. It didn’t do much to stop him, but it was enough to get him to turn around and go after Wayne one more time.
That’s when a little midget sheriff stomped his way into the bar with two deputies. The two deputies tried to break it up, but they got overran by some of the strippers. The big man came right at Wayne, and the fat redheaded midget sheriff stepped in the way, “Now Ray…you need to get your people under control.”
“Get out of my way you little bastard.” The big man roared. “I’ve taken shits bigger than you.”
Wayne watched the little sheriff, well to be honest he was so drunk he watched the little sheriffs, shift his weight a bit and ready for a fight. “Don’t make me whoop your ass Ray.”
“Oh yeah, like a midget could kick my ass!” Ray bellowed.
Ray lifted up a foot and tried to kick the sheriff in the face. The sheriff ducked under the man’s foot and screamed his best kung fu movie scream as he punched the man right in the nuts. Ray fell down immediately, but the little sheriff wasn’t done. He kicked the man’s legs apart, and proceeded to kick the man repeatedly in the groin while screaming, “DON’T…YOU…EVER…CALL…ME…A…FUCKING…MIDGET…EVER…AGAIN!” He punctuated each word with a kick. Then he actually walked over the man like he was part of the floor. When he got up to the man’s chest, he jumped into the air, and landed butt first on the man’s chest. It knocked all the wind out of the man. Then the sheriff leaned over and said, “We’re called little people. Now say it with me…little people.”
When Ray wouldn’t say it, the sheriff grabbed him by the nose and started twisting. The man screamed, “Ouch! Litt
le people alright!” The sheriff kept twisting and the man screamed even louder, “LITTLE PEOPLE! LITTLE PEOPLE! OH FUCK I’M SO SORRY. LITTLE PEOPLE ALRIGHT!”
“That’s better. Now how about we all sit down and you can all explain what’s going on.” The sheriff said. Of course the rest of the bar was still fighting. So the man pulled out his gun and fired two shots into the ceiling. Everyone stopped then. “That’s better. Now everybody find a seat. We’ll begin interviewing you all shortly. Bob…can you please at least try to look like you’re not having the time of your life.”
“Mmmrph MMMMMrphle MMMrpgh!” Deputy Bob Pocky tried to respond from under the eight totally nude women that had him pinned down. He was buried under a mound of large breasts, smooth thighs, and tramp stamps. Some straddled him, some just lay across him. A few were trying to actively smother him with their breasts. Wayne couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the man.
Two hours later it was decided that everyone would pretty much just go their own way. It’d looked originally like the sheriff was going to arrest Wayne, but then Pauline said what her boss had tried to do, and Wayne was allowed to go free. Ray wasn’t happy about it, and decided to fire Pauline for opening her mouth. He even kept her last paycheck to cover the two holes the sheriff put in the roof.
Wayne was one of the last people to be let go by the sheriff. His friends had been interviewed earlier and when told they could leave…they did. They assumed their buddy was going to jail anyway, and so they drove off to wait for his call in the morning. Wayne stood out in the parking lot hoping he might bum a ride off of someone. Maybe one of the sheriff’s deputies would take him home.
Instead it had been Pauline. She was fired, and pretty upset about it. She saw Wayne with his bruised face, and felt sorry for him. She offered to give him a ride home, and he jumped at the chance. It wasn’t like he had any other options at the time. Of course he was still completely wasted. They drove in circles for forty-five minutes before he finally admitted that he couldn’t remember his address. Under normal circumstances Pauline would have never picked the man up to begin with. She considered taking him to a gas station and letting him call someone, but in the end she decided to let him sleep it off on her couch. Of course that didn’t work out like she planned either. Instead of passing out on her couch, they went to bed and consoled one another.
In the morning Wayne caught a cab, and they honestly never expected to see one another again. Of course that was before Pauline found out she was pregnant. They were married two weeks later at a justice of the peace. He’d made the offer thinking she’d never accept, and then was too afraid to put a stop to it when she said yes. He thought he’d hate marriage. Instead he loved it. Just having someone working with him day in and out was comforting. They were like a team. He just liked having her around. Then their kids came.
Pauline had been a natural mother. Everything just seemed to come easy to her. Meanwhile Wayne panicked. He was afraid to touch the kids for the first two weeks. He kept expecting them to break. Instead of trying to become a better father, Wayne tried to bury his head in videogames and alcohol. It was easier to sit in front of his Xbox and pretend nothing was wrong, than admit that he was scared shitless about actually being a father.
Of course the more Wayne pulled away, the more Pauline stepped up. Near the end she was pulling way more than just her own weight in the family. She was doing almost everything, and Wayne was perfectly okay letting her. It had become a real strain on their marriage. Every day he expected Pauline to tell him it was over, but now that it actually was over he didn’t want to live in this world without her.
Wayne loaded Dootsie in his car seat. Then they drove off. Dootsie hadn’t stopped crying since last night. He tried to sing to his son to get him to calm down, but the baby seemed to be getting more and more agitated with each passing second. Wayne finally did the only thing he knew how to do. He turned up the radio to drown out the babies cries.
They were halfway to the daycare when Wayne heard the sound of something breaking in the backseat. Wayne turned up the radio a little more. He could barely see through his tears. Wayne would have given anything to calm the baby. The screams got even louder. Finally, Wayne couldn’t pretend everything was fine anymore. He turned around, “Dootsie?”
The car seat had been ripped apart. Pieces of plastic were all over the backseat. The next thing Wayne knew, a tiny eighteen pound biting machine leapt onto his face. The car swerved all over the road. Dootsie was biting his nose. He grabbed his son and tried to pry the baby off, but Dootsie refused to let go. His son finally let go when Wayne’s hand got too close to Dootsie’s mouth. The baby bit down on his pointer finger, and started chewing.
Wayne started slamming his son against the steering wheel in an attempt to get him off his hand. Blood ran down his face from the chunk of nose that the baby had bitten off, and now blood was starting to run down his hand as well. Dootsie chewed off Wayne’s finger at the first knuckle, and started suckling at the bloody nub like it was his mother’s breast. Dootsie was happy and quiet for the first time today.
Wayne kept beating the happy undead baby against the steering wheel. Each time Dootsie hit the steering wheel the horn blared. The man was concentrating so much on his son that he didn’t notice they were slowly veering off the road. When he finally looked up to see where he was, the car was had missed the bridge, and was about to bury into a river. The car hit a tree stump and flipped the car. Wayne watched in horror as Dootsie just seemed to float as the car sailed headlong into the river. The Toyota violently hammered into the water and didn’t stop until it had sank up to the windows in the river.
Dootsie was flung forward and crashed through the windshield. Water rushed in, and quickly flooded the car up to just inches from Wayne’s face. The car was perpendicular to the riverbed, and Wayne was facing straight down. “Dooooooooooooooooooootsie!” Wayne sobbed. He was hanging in his seatbelt with water. He wanted to get free and pull his son out of the water to safety, but he couldn’t move. All he could do was cry and watch as blood dripped down from his face into the murky water.
Then two tiny hands reached up out of the water. They grabbed Wayne’s face and pulled it down. Air bubbles sprayed in all directions as the man screamed in pain. When he finally pulled his face out of the water, one of his eyes was pulled out of its socket. Dootsie kept yanking on the optic nerve as the baby tried to pull his father back under.
“Dootsie…no!” Wayne begged. The baby pulled hard one more time, and his father’s face sank back under the water again. Water sloshed and sprayed crimson in all directions. When Wayne pulled his head back out of the water, Dootsie was chewing on the optic nerve, and dangling by his mouth like a hooked catfish.
Dootsie grabbed his father’s head and started gnawing. Wayne screamed while his son slowly chewed through the front of his skull. Wayne twisted and turned, and tried to get out of his seatbelt, but he was trapped. His hands kept trying to slap his son away, but the more he bled, the more aggressive the baby acted. Eventually Wayne’s skull broke like a hardboiled egg, and Dootsie gave a happy giggle as he finally reached his father’s delicious brain.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jessup groaned as the sunshine glared in his eyes. “Shit, what happened last night?”
“You killed my parents and ate them. Can we have waffles?” Lula Mae said matter-of-factly.
“What? What kind of crazy bullshit…where’s Bubba?”
Lula Mae shrugged and leaned back into the pile of half-eaten teenagers, “You showed up by yourself.”
Jessup tried to sit up, but there was something laying on his arm. When he looked over he saw what looked like a leathery looking armored white football with ears and a tail. Then the ball’s head moved, and a triangular face peered back at him with two tiny pink eyes. “Hello Asshole!”
“What the fuck!” Jessup jerked away, and the tiny armadillo went rolling.
“You dick!”
“Oh shi
t…I must be having a bad trip.” Jessup groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Lula Mae asked.
“I thought I heard that…thing over there talk. Well not talk exactly. It was like I heard him, but I didn’t hear him. Do you know what I mean?” Jessup couldn’t even believe the words coming out from his mouth.
“Silly…he’s just an armadillo. Armadillo’s can’t talk. Maybe you’re just confusing him with Master?” Lula Mae smiled.
“You don’t hear him?” Jessup said pointing at the little armadillo.
“Digger? No silly. He’s just an a sweet little armadillo. The sweetest armadillo ever, but he can’t talk.”
“And you can’t remember to feed me every day either…Stupid Blonde Asshole, and why is it always crackers? Couldn’t you at least bring me a lizard or maybe a grasshopper once?” Jessup glared at the little albino armadillo until Digger turned back to look at him. “What do you want Asshole?”
“You seriously didn’t hear that?” Jessup asked.
“Hear what? I just hear Master calling.” Lula Mae said.
“Master?” Jessup questioned. Her words finally settling in. ”What do you mean master?”
Lula Mae shrugged, “He’s coming for me. He wants us to be together, he’s even willing to take you, but he says you’re defective.” She stood up and stretched. Dried blood caked all over her body. Jessup looked away uncomfortably from the nine year old girl, she was completely nude except for a few scraps of clothing. Her hair was a tangle of knots, leaves, and dried clumps of blood. She walked past the bodies and toward the house, “Well I’m gonna go get a shower. I wanna look my Sunday best for when he gets here.”
He watched her climb the steps and disappear into the strange house. “How did I even get here? I remember going after that nine-fingered freak. Bubba was there, we chased that dude, and then…boom! I don’t remember anything else until now.”
Uncle Gary's Campfire Stories: Bayou Zombie Werewolves Page 29