Topless Agenda

by Lyle Christie

  He clenched his right hand into a fist then chambered it back to throw a punch. I could have responded with any one of a number of clever hand techniques but decided to capitalize on distance, and, to that end, I used my longest weapon, my leg, and threw a front thrust kick straight in to his stomach. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was the right tool for the job and sent him flying backwards against the wall. He gathered his wits and came again, this time with both arms winding up to swing. Not knowing what he was going to throw first and figuring he would be expecting a kick, I decided to go a different route by using a move that was called, innocently enough, flowering out. Rather than trying to block each individual right or left punch, I shot both hands out in an arc, the goal being to intercept anything that came my way. The left came first, followed by the right, and both were stopped when the edges of my hands impacted the soft sensitive insides of his forearms. The key, now, was follow up, and, as I already had the inside line, the most effective strike entailed rotating my body counterclockwise and slamming a right elbow directly into his temple. Then, following the kenpo karate principle of conservation of motion, I brought the same elbow around and jammed it into his solar plexus. He uttered a pained grunt as the wind was knocked from his lungs, and I followed up by unfolding my arm to deliver a right back fist to his nose that snapped the cartilage with the ugly sound one might expect to hear when they tore a leg off a chicken. He stammered backward and used the moment to reach into his jacket and pull out a folding knife, which he flipped open and pointed towards my face. He might have been a two-time loser rapist with no fashion sense, but he certainly wasn’t a quitter.

  “I’m going to gut you like a pig,” he snarled.

  “Doubtful. It’s more likely that I’m going to take that knife away and carve you a nice vagina so you can better empathize with the all the women you’ve molested during the course of your pathetic life.”

  That seemed to take him to his boiling point, for he lunged forward and stabbed at my stomach. I moved right and parried the blow, but, unfortunately, didn’t manage to get hold of his knife hand. He stepped back and used that moment to glower, taunting me by waving the blade in front of my face.

  “I’m going to leave you to bleed out nice and slow, so you can watch while I fuck your girlfriend.”

  “You’re such a romantic. No wonder you do so well with the ladies.”

  “You won’t be able to talk shit when I cut out your tongue,” he said.

  “And you’ll become a vegetable when I cut off your dick.”

  He looked confused, which meant I was correct in my theory that he was a complete dickhead.

  “Time to die, fucker!” he yelled.

  It was a known fact that everyone got cut in a knife fight, but, thus far, I had been exceedingly lucky, and I decided it was time to end this before my luck ran out. Unlike my confrontation with Stinky where the knife had been conveniently held against my throat, I now a had very antsy Mr. Cowboy Boots slashing to and fro like a meth addled Benihana chef. In this instance I, therefore, needed a physical inroad—a strike that would put him in a brief moment of shock, so that I could try and get hold of the weapon hand. As he lunged in again and slashed towards my face, I parried the strike and shot a front kick to his groin. Mr. Cowboy Boots doubled over in pain, thus giving me my precious inroad, and I used it to grab the knife hand and torque it clockwise and force him onto his knees.

  “Alrighty then, Mr. Cowboy Boots, drop the knife,” I said.

  “Fuck you!”

  I threw a quick kick to his face then gave his wrist another twist, and it was all I needed to get him to drop the knife. It landed on the floor, and I kicked it out of reach.

  “Now, what was that you said about leaving me to die while I watched you fuck my girlfriend?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Come now, my little peroshki, it’s time for you to apologize to the lady.”

  “Fuck you!” he screamed, again.

  “I know you’re stupid and all, but I’m pretty sure you know more than just those two words.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “OK then, let’s try this again.”

  I threw my left leg up over his shoulder then back onto the floor, trapping his arm between my knees in an orientation that would allow me to apply even more pressure to his elbow joint. He tried to struggle free, so I twisted my hips just enough to make him let out a pained scream.

  “Wait a minute. Did I hear an apology in there somewhere?”

  “No, you fucking asshole!”

  “Most impressive! There were four words in that last outburst.”

  “Fuck you! I’m going to kill you and that fucking cunt,” he bellowed, as he used his free hand to reach into his boot and pull out yet another knife, though this one was about five inches long and thin, obviously designed to be easily concealed.

  That was it. No more Mr. Nice Guy. I was done fucking around with this fucker, and, before he could use the knife to stab me, I pulled his arm across my knee and hyper flexed it until it snapped at the elbow joint. This final move elicited the loudest scream yet, and he dropped the knife and began writhing around in pain on the floor—a mottled stream of profanity pouring from his mouth. I decided it was time to finish the job, and delivered a mercy kick to his jaw that thankfully knocked him out cold. Stephanie climbed out of bed and raced over and threw her arms around me, and I could feel her body still shaking uncontrollably.

  “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh my god. I can’t thank you enough,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry this happened. It’s all my fault that these assholes are even here.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How could it be your fault?”

  “I think they thought this was my room.”

  “Which doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It only means that they’re stupid.”

  She was correct that they were stupid, but I still felt responsible, so I just let it go for the moment and held her, keeping her wrapped safely in my arms for as long as she needed me. Thankfully, I had kept Mr. Cowboy Boots from consummating the act, but Stephanie would probably never be able to entirely forget this encounter. Life could certainly be cruel, especially for women who dealt with this kind of shit more often than most people knew. One in three women would be the victims of some kind of sexual assault in their lifetime, and few, if any, would ever take a decent self-defense class. Stephanie eventually let go of me and excused herself to go to the bathroom then came back looking better, the redness around her eyes the only visible reminder of the encounter.

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “We throw momma from the train.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s a reference to the movie with Billy Crystal and Danny Devito.”

  “Yeah, I saw it years ago, but I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Well, unlike the movie where they didn’t end up throwing momma from the train—I’m thinking that we should fulfill the act by throwing these acid washed assclowns off the train.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Do you want to see them in the morning?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Then, let’s open that window and take out the garbage.”

  One by one we lugged the ass clowns over to the window and heaved them out over the sill, watching as they tumbled into the tall grass beside the tracks. It was no small task, and I learned that Stephanie was particularly strong and, with the right training, probably could have dealt with the acid washed assclowns all on her own, but, as usual, hindsight was always twenty-twenty. We finished up by tossing out their boom box then closed the window, the noise of the racing air suddenly replaced by the quiet rumble as the train continued rolling along down the tracks. I grabbed some paper towels and soap from the bathroom and cleaned up any blood spatters then we both sat, grateful that all the excitement was over.

  “Do you think there’s any chance the fall might have killed them?” Stephanie asked.

  �
��Doubtful, as the train had slowed down quite a bit while we went through that last town, though to be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t be too bothered if it had, as assholes of that magnitude have forfeited their right to live happily ever after.”

  “Considering all that just happened, I’d probably have to agree with you.”

  “And if they did manage to survive, at least they’ll think twice before assaulting people on trains.”

  She took a moment to ponder that thought then let out a long sigh.

  “Well—thanks again, Tag.”

  “No problem. Now, I imagine you must be tired, so I’ll head back to my cabin and let you get some sleep.”

  “Like hell. I’m not sleeping alone after that.”

  “It’s safe now. You’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t care. You’re not leaving my side until morning—and maybe not even then.”

  The lovely Stephanie Hu turned off the lights then ushered me into the bed and undressed me down to my boxer briefs. She was still wearing only her underwear and shirt as she snuggled into my arms, and I could feel her rather lovely backside pressing against the crux of my groin. It was nice, though I wished I had been beside her under different circumstances. As I tried to find a nice neutral place for my hand, she took hold of it and placed it over her breast, where the thin fabric allowed her pokey nipple to slip between my fingers.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “I didn’t mean to grab your nipple.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. That wasn’t an accident. It was a taste of the proper thank you that I’m going to give you sometime other than tonight.”

  “I’ll take that rain check.”

  She lifted my hand, kissed it, and placed it back over her breast then slowly drifted off to sleep. Meanwhile, I took a few quiet moments to empty my mind of the chaos of the day until I too felt my eyes growing heavy, my thoughts transitioning into the nether world of dreams as I was lost to the welcoming abyss of sleep.

  I awoke to the subtle movement of the train and the unpleasant sound of knocking. Judging by the light, it was morning, and Stephanie, who was still in my arms, slowly came awake as well. She sat up, looked at her watch, and threw on a robe before quietly padding over to the door.

  “Hello, who’s there?” she asked, obviously a little cautious after last night’s drama.

  “Lux, your neighbor. I was wondering if you’ve seen Tag.”

  Oh shit. I needed to get out of bed and get dressed. I jumped up but, of course, couldn’t find my clothes before Stephanie opened the door, allowing Lux to see me cowering in my underwear. I tried to smile innocently, but it only seemed to encourage the transformation from surprise to scorn that was taking place on Lux’s face.

  “Morning, Lux,” I said, sheepishly from behind Stephanie.

  “Morning, Tag, how’d you sleep? Assuming that you actually slept.”

  “Like a baby—considering.”

  “Considering what?” Lux asked, looking unamused.

  “Considering that he’s my hero!” Stephanie said.

  Thankfully, she told Lux the entire story, and, by the time she had finished speaking, she had tears in her eyes, and Lux was hugging her and gently patting her back. Of course, Lux was still giving me the same disapproving look as she gazed at me over Stephanie’s shoulder. I held up my hands in protest and mouthed the word what, but it did nothing to change her expression. Regardless of what Stephanie told her, she obviously still thought that I had bedded the distraught woman. She could believe whatever she wanted, because I knew that I had done the right thing, and that’s all that mattered.

  A light breeze blew through the open door and tickled my testicles, thus reminding me that I was still practically naked. Standing around in my underwear was getting a little awkward, and I really wanted to get dressed, so I turned my attention to finding my clothes, though I only managed to get hold of my shoes and socks. Somehow, all the excitement last night had left me feeling a wee bit blank this morning.

  Just then, there was a knock on the door that led to the adjoining compartment, and, a second later, it opened and in walked Stephanie’s parents, looking ready for the day. They stopped cold in their tracks and appeared to be more than a little bit shocked to see me standing there nearly naked, but Stephanie thankfully explained to them all that had happened the night before. Her father, now looking grateful, came over and shook my hand, thanking me profusely while her mother started crying before hugging her daughter and then me. Now, I really wanted to get dressed, but, before I could ask Stephanie for help, Babs and Bridgette walked in from the hallway.

  “I see you found Tag,” Babs said.

  “I sure did,” Lux answered.

  Our two new arrivals were doing their best not to giggle, and I was feeling even more uncomfortable.

  “Good morning,” I said, trying to sound casual and retain even a shred of my dignity.

  “Care to explain why you’re in such a state of undress in someone else’s cabin?” Babs asked.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you at breakfast.”

  “I look forward to hearing it,” he said, with a wry smile.

  “I’m sure you do, now, I suppose it’s time for Stephanie and me to freshen up and get ready,” I said.

  Stephanie came over and hugged me before looking up into my eyes and kissing me, making an awkward moment even more awkward—considering we were standing in front of her parents, and I was only a pair of boxer briefs short of being naked. She eventually let go of me then joined her parents as they all headed back into the other compartment.

  “Um—wait! Do you know where my clothes are?” I called out.

  She poked her head back in and smiled.

  “Oh yeah—sorry. I left them in the bed after I undressed you last night,” she said, before closing the door and disappearing from view.

  The bed. Fuck! I hadn’t thought of that. I found my clothes bunched up in a little ball down near the bottom, and I was finally able to slip on my pants and T-shirt, ever thankful to at last be dressed. We exited Stephanie’s room, and the others decided they would go to breakfast while I would get cleaned up and then join them once I was ready. Lux, bless her heart, told me that she had left me a cup of coffee in our compartment, which meant I had all the makings for the beginning of a pretty decent day. Lux and Bridgette headed for the dining car while Babs hung back for a moment, continuing to stare at me with that same annoying smile on his face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I can’t decide what you attract more—trouble or women?”

  “I tend to think you can’t have one without the other.”

  Babs chuckled.

  “You are truly an existentialist, my friend,” he said, before turning and heading off to join the girls in the dining car.

  Meanwhile, I had a devil’s three-way planned with a toilet and a shower, and I prayed the train still had water. I grabbed the coffee and some clean clothes and headed into my porcelain and steel temple. The coffee was still warm, but I wouldn’t have cared if it had been ice cold, for it was coffee, nectar of the Gods, the holy restorer of all that is good in this sometimes cruel world. I took a generous sip and dropped onto the throne that made all men kings and gazed out at the Italian countryside, which looked ever beautiful under a clear blue sky. I took a sip of coffee, smiled to myself, and wondered if perhaps this was the omen of a good day to come.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Déjà View

  ACCORDING TO BABS, Italian trains were notorious for running out of water, but ours, thankfully, didn’t, and I was thrilled to get both a dump and a shower before breakfast. I dressed and headed out to join the others in the dining car where they had a table next to the Hu’s, and Lux had been nice enough to save me a window seat. I sat down to enjoy a continental breakfast, which, typical of Europe, consisted of coffee and bread and butter, or, if you were lucky, a pastry. Today, luck was not on our side, and, as I looke
d around at our humble assemblage of food, I had to question the use of the word continental to describe something that was essentially bread and water. Still, you soon grew to enjoy it—which was the case at the moment. I was hungry as hell after such an exciting night, and I proceeded to grab a bread roll, smear on some butter and jam, then take a bite before following it up with a sip of my cappuccino. Buono!

  “So, Babs, how long before we arrive in Villa San Giovanni?”

  “We’re about an hour away then we have the option to either stay aboard and take the train ferry or transfer to a standard people and car ferry.

  “Which is better?”

  “It’s more or less the same, but since we’re meeting my sister in Messina, I think it would be nice to get free of the confinement of the train and opt for the latter, as we can enjoy some sunshine and stretch our legs.”

  “Sounds good to me. What do you think, Lux?”

  “I’m all for it, and it’s a always a good idea to switch up your mode of transportation when you’re out in the field.”

  “Isn’t anyone going to ask me what I think?” Bridgette asked, plaintively.

  “No,” we all said at the same time.

  “Assholes,“ she muttered under her breath as she returned to enjoying her breakfast.

  “Well then, I guess it’s settled, and I must say, Babs, I look forward to meeting another member of your family.”

  At that point Babineux leaned in close and lowered his voice.

  “Listen up, Asshole, as I want you to know that my sister is officially off limits.”

  “Off limits meaning?”

  “Meaning, I want you to keep your dick in your pants.”

  “That sounds a bit hypocritical coming from a Frenchman.”

  “My sister doesn’t figure into this, because she is only half French.”

  “Fine, then I’ll only focus on that half.”