Chapter 8

The two men stood at the doorway of the shed in shock. This was almost too good to be true. Cases of beer were stacked up on the left, next to several bottles of what looked like whiskey.

"Oh my gosh!" Chief Arnold said. He started jumping up and down, patting Squiggy on the back. "Say it ain't so, Squiggy!"

"It ain't so," Squiggy said. He turned around to make sure nobody was spying on them. His truck was still bouncing up and down. Every few seconds, Squiggy thought he heard a squeal, but wasn't positive.

"Beer!" the chief said. "And whiskey!"

Squiggy was excited about the booze they were about to confiscate, but his eyes had settled on something else even more interesting.

"Say, Porky, ain't that one of them blow-up chicks over there next to the television?"

Langford's police chief almost wet his pants for the second time this night over the excitement.

"Holy cow!" he said, loud enough to cause the truck to stop bouncing for a few seconds. "Man! I can't wait to hit that!"

"You ain't gonna hit it," Squiggy said. "I saw it first!"

"You don't need it, Squiggy. You get your fair share of poon."

Squiggy wondered what fantasy book the chief had been reading. "So?"

"I ain't got no booger in five years!"

"I thought you was married."

"You seen my wife?"

"Yep, can't hardly blame you," Squiggy said. The chief's wife was a dreadful object, looking almost like a cow with a personality to match. "But I thought you got plenty from the chicks you stop and trade sex to get em outta tickets."

"I don't ever get sex from them. Sometimes I just have them, you know..."

"Naw, I don't know. That's why I's asking."

"I have them show me their boobies. That gets em off a speeding ticket."

"What do they gotta do to get off something bad like a drunk driving?"

The chief smiled. That was privileged information, shared only with other members of the law.

"Hot durn, you got a good racket goin on," said Squiggy, a man with a keen eye for good rackets.

"Thanks, Squiggy. Just give me some of the beer and I'll take Barbie and hit the road."

"Barbie?"

"Yeah, that's why I's gonna call her."

"That's just about a dumbbutt name."

"Whatever. Look there's your dirty books."

Chief Arnold pointed at several boxes near the back. Squiggy got excited for a second, then realized he was missing out.

"It ain't right you stealing that blow-up chick," he said. "Why don't you let me test her out in the barn here then you can have her?"

"No way!" Chief Arnold said. "I ain't gonna take no sloppy seconds. That's a might bit gross, if I do say so myself."

"Don't you think somebody else mighta used her? I kinda doubt old Barbie's a virgin blow-up chick."

"Ugh, you's right. I'll wash her out with some of that there bacteria soap."

"Okay, you can have her, just let me spend a little time with her."

"No! Barbie's mine!"

"Bullcrap!"

It was hard to tell who shoved who first, but they approached each other like two rams testing their manhood. They grabbed each other and wrestled to the ground. The chief was trying to grab his nightstick as Squiggy kept trying to poke him in the eyes, one of his favorite fighting tricks.

The chief managed to roll over on top of Squiggy.

"Dang, man, you are fat!" Squiggy said. "I can't breathe!"

The chief relaxed for a second, expecting Squiggy to give up. "I'll take her, right?"

"Sure," Squiggy said, waited for the right moment then got a good poke in to the chief's left eye.

"Dadgummit, Squiggy!" the chief said. "That hurt."

As the two fighters continued to struggle, the action in the truck was dying down. Mule was sweating badly from the heat in the truck and was tired of Red's dirty mouth. That just didn't do a thing for him. He didn't need some chick telling him what to do.

She was laid out on the truck seat, a faraway look on her eyes. She wasn't much to look at, not that it was a prerequisite for Mule to make whoopie with a person.

Red had tried to give him a hickey during the process and wouldn't quit sucking on his neck. That kind of irritated him. His momma didn't much like seeing her boy come home with suckmarks on his neck.

Mule opened the door and stepped out, his pants still down at his ankles. A car was driving by at the time. The driver happened to gaze over at the wrong moment and was so alarmed by what he saw that his truck barely avoided running into an electric pole.

"Dang," his passenger said. "That dude looked like he had three legs."

"Musta been Mule," said the driver.

Mule pulled up his pants and finally got his breath. Red was rather frisky in the truck. She had gotten all fired up and fogged up the windows of the truck. Mule looked around for the chief and Squiggy. For several seconds, he didn't see them. Finally, Mule saw what looked to be two men fighting in the repo lot.

He pounded on the truck door. "Hey, Squiggy's fightin the cop feller!"

Red opened her eyes. She was still smiling with a dreamy look. "I hope the cop does a Rodney King on Squiggy."

"That ain't a nice thing to say."

Red got dressed and climbed down out of the truck. She was walking rather bowlegged, much like an old bullrider.

"I'm a hurting, Mule," she said. "But I likes it!"

"I gotta help Squiggy!" Mule said. He started to climb the fence.

"Ain't that some barbwire up there?" Red said, pointing at the top of the fence. There were three strands of wire, angled toward the outside.

"Don't matter," Mule said. "I's gotta help Squiggy."

He got to the top of the fence and tried to climb in between over the top of the barbwire. At first, he got caught by the shorts, followed soon after by his shirt. Mule was stuck and trapped. Those barbs were sharp and prevented him from going anywhere. Mule was stuck at the top of the fence.

"Help me!" he said.

Red didn't know what to do. Finally, she looked back at where Squiggy and the chief were fighting. Actually, wrestling was a better description of what they were doing. They appeared to be losing their gusto rather quickly.

"Hey boys!" she said. "I need help! Mule's stuck!"

Squiggy raised his head and looked around. He didn't see her. "In you?"

Red had to think about that for a second. "Naw, he's up on the top of the fence."

"What the crap's he doin up there?" Chief Arnold asked.

"He was trying to rescue Squiggy."

"I didn't need rescuing," said Squiggy, still trapped under the chief.

"How come he didn't climb through the hole in the fence?"

Red looked up at Mule, still hung up in the barbwire. "The chief wants to know..."

"I heard him, Red. Tell him I didn't know bout the hole in the fence."

Red cupped her hands. "He didn't know about..."

"We heard him," the chief said. He slowly crawled off Squiggy, keeping one hand near his face to deflect any more eye gouges. "You fight dirty."

"Ain't no other way, Porky," Squiggy said. He got up, glad to finally be able to breathe again.

The two men stood up. The chief jogged over to retrieve Barbie. He caught up with Squiggy just short of the fence.

"How we gonna get him down?" the chief said.

"Darned if I know," Squiggy said. "I reckon he'll come down when he gets hungry."

"I ain't no cat stuck in a tree," Mule said.

"Climb up there and get him, Porky," Squiggy said.

"Can't," the chief said. "I'm too fat. You're gonna have to do it."

"Bullcrap! I'm scared of heights."

"It's only eight feet."

"That's tall!"

"I seen you in tree stands before that was higher'n that."

"Yeah, but I was huntin," Squiggy said. "That was different. Red, skiddaddle up there and rescue old Mule."

"I'm a woman," she said. "That's men work!"

"Red, if you don't get up here and rescue me, I ain't gonna do you no more," Mule said.

"Dadgum!" Red said. She really didn't feel like climbing up the fence, but after one shot of Mule, she was addicted. "Hang on!"

She started walking back to the truck, still bowlegged.

"How come she's walkin like that?" the chief said.

"She done been Mule'd," Squiggy said.

"What you got there, cop?" Mule said.

"That's Barbie," he said. "She's my blow-up chick."

"Cool. I ain't never done a balloon."

"She ain't a ballon," Chief Arnold said. "Barbie's a blow-up doll."

"Mind if I take a shot at her?"

The chief and Squiggy looked appalled.

"No way," the chief said.

"You'd ruin her," Squiggy said.

"I ain't gonna ruin Barbie."

"We's afraid you'd puncture her. Her holes ain't all that big."

"Don't she stretch?" Mule said.

"Not that much," Squiggy said.

Red returned back from the truck, empty handed. "I can't find nothing."

"What are you looking for?" the chief said.

"Some kinda strap to keep me from falling while I was rescuing Mule."

"You don't need no rescue strap," Squiggy said. "You need Porky's cutters. That way, you could cut the barbwire and free the Mule."

"Where's them cutters?"

"Back behind the fence."

"Go get em."

"I's too tired," Squiggy said. "Fighting a fat man'll take the wind right outta your sails."

"Somebody please rescue me!" Mule said.

"Hold your horses," Squiggy said. "We's workin on it."

"How bout you, Chief?"

"You can stick a fork in me, little Missy, I'm done. You're gonna have to waddle over and get it."

Squiggy giggled and patted the chief on the back. "Good one! She looks like them cowboy fellers the way she's a walking."

"I'm hurtin, boys," she said. "But I'll go get them there cutters to free my man from the barbwire dangling from his flesh."

"What'd she say?" Mule asked.

"She's gonna cut you loose," Chief Arnold said. He looked down and saw a fairly large puddle of blood forming on the ground. "That's gotta hurt."

"Mule seems to be pretty tough," Squiggy said. "Now, whatta we gonna do about Barbie? It ain't right for you to hog her."

"I been thinkin bout that. You're right. Maybe we could each keep her a night then give it to the other?"

"That'll work with me. I'll take her tonight and bring it by the police station in the morning."

"You'll what?"

"Take Barbie by the cop station in the morning after I sober up and finish huntin in the morning."

"Bullcrap!"

"You don't want the other cop fellers to see her?"

"Naw, I don't give a rat's butt about that. I get her tonight!"

"Wanna go again, big butt!"

"Sure, let me get my wind back."

"Hey, RoShamBo for it" Mule said.

Squiggy was about to kick the chief square in the nuts. "Do what?"

"Rock, paper, scissors," Mule said. "That'd be fair."

"Whatta you think, Porky?"

"Works for me," the chief said. "On my three, okay?"

Squiggy nodded. As the chief counted down, the men were mentally calculating the odds that go with each move. The chief favored paper while the Squigster was a big rock guy. The two men had their right hands hidded behind their back, eyeing their opponent with scorn.

The chief said "Three" and they both moved their hands around. Chief Arnold went with scissors, a good move after seeing that Squiggy had gone the paper route.

"I get Barbie!" the chief squealed.

"Best two outta three?"

"No way!" The chief looked like a kid who had just found his Christmas stash under the tree. "This is too cool!"

He opened up the air hole and started blowing her up. Red returned with the cutters and climbed the fence. The pain was still there, but it was a good pain. She moved around the fence, cutting away the barbwire. She snapped the last strand. It whipped back and caught Mule right in the face. The force was hard enough that it knocked him off the top of the fence, leaving most of his shirt hanging from the barbwire.

Mule fell like he was in slow motion, slowly descending toward the ground. The chief and Squiggy gasped. They could tell this wasn't going to be good.

Chapter 9