Chapter 3

Squiggy watched with a small amount of amazement as Mule stood and started unbuttoning his shorts. He noticed several others in The Last Call did, also. The people did not discriminate. Men and women both were fairly interested.

As the camo shorts were dropped, Squiggy couldn't help but notice. "Dude, tell me those ain't Spongebob drawers!"

It certainly looked that way to him. Yellow drawers with Spongebob's character displayed all over them.

"Yeah, they are," Mule said, beaming proudly. "Mommy got them for me!"

"Hey there slick, first off, guys don't wear Spongebob stuff unless they's homos."

"Really?"

"Fraid so. Second, you can't call your mother 'Mommy'!"

"Is that like a law?"

Those gathered around to find out how Mule garnered his nickname turned to Squiggy for the answer.

"Uh, I don't guess the cops could bust you for doing it," Squiggy said. "It just ain't cool."

Red snorted. "Like you'd know cool if it came up and bit you on your scrawny butt."

"That wasn't very nice," Mule said, causing Red to practically whimper. "He's just trying to help me."

"Yeah!" Squiggy said and patted Mule on the back.

Mule grabbed his shorts and started to lower them, then realized what he was doing. "I best not do this right here."

"Naw, it's okay!" Red said, sounding rather urgent.

"Yeah, drop them drawers!" urged Big Uns.

"I best go in the bathroom," Mule decided.

"Nooooo!" shouted Red, who knew that would keep her out.

A loud groan settled over the several women gathered around.

"I really don't think anybody'd care," said the fat chick Squiggy argued with earlier.

"Naw, go for it!" Big Uns said, with a lot more emphasis than Squiggy thought was necessary.

Mule kept his fingers around the waistband of his boxers. Red staggered forward, pulling dollar bills out of her tip stash. She stuck one on each side of the boxers. Big Uns followed with a five spot.

"How come y'all's giving me money?" Mule asked.

"Who cares! You can buy the next round!" Squiggy hollered.

"We wants to see that thing," Red said.

"Oh, okay."

With that, Mule proceeded to drop his boxers. A collective gasp went through the room, all eyes drawn to the main act. Squiggy could have sworn he heard a thud.

"Oh my!" Big Uns moaned.

"Holy crap!" said a cowboy near the bar.

Squiggy about swallowed his chew. He didn't know how many natural wonders there were in the world, but was sure he was seeing another.

"Is that thing alive?" he asked.

Mule giggled as he started pulling his boxers up.

"Don't be getting in no hurry," Red said, her eyes sticking out like a Pug.

Mule continued to cover it up.

"I thought you was white?" Squiggy said.

"I am," Mule said.

"Then what's up with that thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't think white dudes could have units that big."

"You shoulda seen my dad's," Mule said. "He could bruise the side of his knee."

"Is he still alive?" Red asked.

"Naw, I think he's dead."

"Was he an organ donor?" Squiggy asked, then giggled at his wit. If the dad's dong was bigger, that thing needed to be in a jar somewhere. A big jar, he decided.

"Naw, he was hauling rock up on the mountain and got mauled by a bigfoot."

"Bullcrap!" Squiggy shouted.

"It's true!" Mule said.

"Ain't no bigfoot around Langford. They's all down near Octavia."

"Yeah," agreed the drunk cowboy.

"Oh," Mule said, looking quite sad. "Well, that's momma's story and I guess I gotta stick to it."

Squiggy patted Mule on the back. "It's okay, dude. At least you got some money!"

"Yeah," Mule said, brightening up.

"You can buy us some beer!"

"Yeah...I guess. You my friend?"

"Sure," Squiggy said. Heck, I'd be friends with a republican if a free beer came with it.

"Ma'am, could you get us some beer?" Mule said to Red, who was still in shock over what she had seen.

"That ain't how you talk to them," Squiggy said.

"Who?"

"Chicks. This is how it's done: Woman, get us some beer!"

Red snapped out of her trance and shook her head. She took off to the bar in search of beer. Squiggy looked over at Big Uns, who was fanning her face with a tissue. He noticed another button on her shirt had snapped open from the pressure of the massive missiles she sported.

Squiggy maneuvered around to get a better glance down her shirt. He could see a little better, but still not see the goodies.

"What're you doing?" Mule asked, wondering why Squiggy was standing up on the bar stool and leaning in an odd direction.

"Nothing," Squiggy said, sitting down before Big Uns noticed him. He gave Mule a dirty look, but didn't push it too hard, worried that free beer might go away.

"Was that thing real?" Big Uns asked, snapping out of her fog.

"What do you mean?" Mule asked.

"I meant, is it natural?"

"Huh?"

"I think she's wanting to know if you had one of them weenie implants," Squiggy said.

"What's a 'implant'?" Mule asked.

Big Uns jumped in. "Some men use them to enhance the size of their manliness."

"They don't work," Squiggy said, before he could catch himself.

"How'd you know?" Mule asked.

"I, uh, I read about them," Squiggy said. "I'd never need one, of course."

Big Uns snorted.

"What's up with that?" Squiggy asked, but did not get an answer.

Red delivered a round of beer and stood by the table. Mule started to pay her.

She waved it off. "That one's on the house. The bartender says if word gets around that you hang out here, it'll triple our business."

Mule nodded. Squiggy grabbed the beer he judged was filled closest to the rim.

"Last call," hollered the bartender.

"Durn," Mule said.

"Crapfire!" Big Uns added.

"Hey, the party don't gotta end," Squiggy said. "I gots an idear!"

Chapter 4