Chapter 14

In the history of mankind, there have been many memorable moments. What happened in the Methodist Fellowship Hall on Thanksgiving Day will probably never be written down by anybody, but for those unfortunate enough to be there, it is a memory that will never leave.

Squiggy had convinced Mule that if he passed gas, it would be a silent one. He was wrong. Right after he hiked his leg, there was an explosion. Squiggy felt the air hit him.

Everybody else in the fellowship hall, the bums, the white trash, old people and helpers certainly heard it also. Many were left holding a food utensil loaded with goodies going into their mouth. Several of them were disgusted. They were always told my their parents not to poot at the table. Their parents never told them not to fart in a church dinner, it was just something they all understood.

Not these retards. Mule looked around the room and saw everybody staring at them. He quickly realized that the people did not know who had cut the cheese.

"Squiggy!" Mule said, loud enough for everybody to hear him. He also shook his head in disappointment, trying to sell it even better.

Squiggy was about to complement Mule on the toot. Now everybody was staring at him. He was used to it when it was something he had done, but didn't really care for it when the old Squigster was getting the blame for something Mule had done.

He looked around and saw a lot of anger directed at him. Squiggy started to protest his innocence and point the finger at the real culprit, then decided it wasn't worth his time.

Squiggy still had some food on his plate that needed to be consumed. It was a lot more important to him than what everybody thought of him.

He got back to eating when somebody tapped on his shoulder. Squiggy's mouth was half full and he didn't like being bothered while eating.

"What?" he asked, rather harshly. Squiggy looked up and saw it was a new helper, wearing an apron and her Sunday best. This one wasn't smiling like the others.

"Sir, if you need to pass another windy, we encourage you to use the bathroom!" she said. The woman was a former teacher and used to getting her way.

Squiggy swallowed a big mouthful without properly swallowing. He would give pretty much anything to be able to cut one right now, but he had made a deposit earlier and just didn't have enough ammo.

He nodded and waited until the woman turned around and started walking off. "Blue-haired hag!" It wasn't said loud enough for many people to hear it. The woman certainly heard it and threw on the brakes. She wheeled around and stormed up to Squiggy.

The woman grabbed Squiggy by the ear and tried to pull him out of the chair. He had a pained look on his face, but wasn't ready to leave the table yet. The preacher was two tables away and looking on with a pained expression.

"Let go of my dang ear," Squiggy said. He was swatting at her like he would a fly buzzing him, not that it was doing any good.

"You have no manners!" the woman said.

That was nothing new to Squiggy. It was also something he could care less about. She had about drug him out of his chair. Squiggy was about to fight back when there was a blur to his left. The woman let go of his ear and slowly dropped to the ground.

"What the crap?" Squiggy said. He looked around and saw what happened. Mule took one of his crutches and whacked the old woman upside the head.

"Uh oh," Mule said. He just wanted to hit her hard enough so she would let go of Squiggy. He didn't want to land a TKO. She was laid out on the floor with a dazed look on her face. The woman's dress and apron came up during the fall and her underwear was visible.

Mule caught Squiggy looking at the old woman's underwear. That was too much for even Mule.

"We best go," Mule said. "I seen the preacher feller heading off to call the law."

"Don't worry bout it," Squiggy said. "Boy, you dern cold cocked her!"

"I didn't mean to do it."

"The old bat was on my ear like one of them snappin turtles." He saw several groups of people gathered together, talking about them. Squiggy decided it was time to hit the road. "Let's go, Mule."

"Where we goin, Squiggy?"

"I'll tell you out in the truck." He didn't want to say it now. Judging from how angry the people were, Squiggy was afraid they might get a posse together. Squiggy looked to make sure nothing was left on his plate. It was a disgusting mess with crumbs scattered everywhere and several plates. He left the mess and started walking toward the exit.

One of the women kept looking at Squiggy, back at the mess he left, then repeating the process. It was almost like she was watching a tennis game. Her mouth dropped open and stayed that way.

Finally, she stormed up to the man, keeping an eye out for the buddy with the crutch. "You sir are a slob!"

Squiggy stared at her for a few seconds. "So? You got a fat..."

Mule patted him on the back and pointed out the front door with his cane. A police car had just pulled up out front. They looked and saw it was Chief Arnold, who had recovered from his accident. The chief walked up to the front door, chewing a turkey leg. He had a lot of it smeared on his face.

Squiggy and Mule turned around and headed for the kitchen. There was another door there. If they got there quick enough, they could sneak out and get away.

"Hurry up, Mule!" Squiggy said as they snuck into the kitchen.

One of the old ladies working in the kitchen dropped the pan she was washing. The woman was at least 70, with thinning hair and breasts that appeared to be sagging to the ground. "Are you really the mule?" she asked.

Mule nodded. He didn't have time to stop and chit chat.

"I've heard about you," the woman said, smiling as her eyes drifted downward.

"Why, thankies!" Mule followed Squiggy out the door. They cut across the lawn toward the truck. Squiggy took off running. He made good time for the first ten yards, then started breathing heavily. Mule was following close behind, going about as fast as a person could using crutches.

They got in the truck and peeled out as Chief Arnold came out of the church, carrying a plate loaded down with food.

"He was just there to eat," Mule said with much glee.

"Yeah, I figgered he was gonna arrest you for pooting in a church."

"Is that against the law?"

"Probably."

"Wasn't actually the church."

"It was the church to me. Gimme a beer." Squiggy waited for Mule to hand him a beer. He popped the top and slurped about half of it down. "Boy, you popped that old woman a good one!"

Mule looked ashamed. He knew better than to hit an old woman with a crutch, but Squiggy needed help. "I didn't mean to knock her out."

"Probably teach her to grab a man by the ear."

Mule nodded and started on a beer. "Where we goin?"

"To eat again."

"Cool! We goin to the Baptist place."

Squiggy nodded and finished off the beer. He snapped his fingers and Mule got another one. He managed to finish off two beers in the half a mile between the two churches. Once again, Squiggy pulled up front of the church and parked in a handicapped parking spot.

There were cars everywhere. Squiggy expected great things at the Baptist church, home of some of the best cooks in Langford. They barged into the church and located the food by their acute smelling capabilities.

There were a few people already in line. Squiggy grew irritated. "Crapfire!"

Two of the people turned around and gawked at him. The woman looked stunned. "You got like food all over your face."

"So?"

They eventually made their way to the head of the line. Standing next to the table was a familiar figure. He was an old man, still in good shape. The man had a full head of gray hair and was dressed in a suit. It was the publisher of the Langford Review, the father of one of Squiggy's best friends.

"Hey Mister Hunt!" Squiggy said and slapped the man on the back. Up until that point, the man was smiling. It slowly faded away.

"Rather good for the most part," the man replied, looking around for somebody else to talk with.

"Looks like a pretty good spread!" Squiggy was staring at the tables filled with food. There was easily twice as many tables, all packed with dishes.

The man nodded uneasily.

"How's Mike Hunt doing?" Squiggy asked, referring to the man's son.

"Your what?" Mule asked.

"Mike Hunt. He's my buddy."

Mule stepped back a step and looked at Squiggy in a strange way.

"I thought you was a feller."

"I am."

"Then how do you got one of them virginia doodads?"

Squiggy looked at his friend for several seconds. He shook his head and coughed up a piece of meat that had been lodged in his throat. "That's his name, you moron."

Mule was thoroughly confused and let it go. He turned his attention to the massive amount of food.

"I understand Michael is doing okay," Mister Hunt said in a way that bothered Squiggy. He remembered that Mike and his father had some problems.

"Tell Mike I asked how they was hangin, okay?"

The old man looked rather nauseated. He looked around for backup and saw his wife approaching the two men.

"Uh oh," Squiggy said.

"What's wrong?" Mule asked.

"Mike's momma's coming." Yes, she was and didn't look at that happy.

She stood about three inches from Squiggy and pointed a finger in his face. "Don't you even think about acting up here like you did at the Methodist Church!"

"How'd you know about that?" he asked.

She didn't bother to answer. She knew everything that went on in Langford, much better than her husband. She was a part of a network of older women who didn't just want to know what was happening and spread it to others, they had to know everything going on in Langford.

"Okay, I's gotta eat now," Squiggy said and headed off to a table. Mule followed and sat beside him.

Mule's stomach rumbled rather loudly.

"Uh oh," he said.

"Don't even think about it," Squiggy said.

"It might be a silent one!"

"Yeah, and it might be another nuclear explosion. There's the yhitter. Go in there."

"That's a long way to go just to fart."

"Then you best hold it. I don't want Missus Hunt yanking on my ear for one of your poots."

An elderly man approached them and sat across the table from them. Squiggy had his first forkload near his mouth.

The man was smiling and showing his dentures off. He was dressed in a suit and tie. His gray hair was combed to perfection and a smile appeared to be glued in place.

"Hey boys," the man said. "Before you eat, mind if I pray?"

Squiggy groaned. "We came here to eat," he said. "Not pray."

Mule was groaning and fidgeting in his chair. "You mind waiting until I drop a load?"

"Excuse me?" the man said. Just the corners of his mouth lost a little of the smile.

"Gotta crap!" Mule said, loud enough for everybody to hear. He grabbed his crutches and took off toward the bathroom at the far wall. Halfway there, he got caught behind an old woman on a walker.

It was a tight walkway and no way to get around. She stopped and talked at every table, making it more painful for Mule. He kept turning around and looking at Squiggy, who had no solution. Mule was hurting badly. Another jolt was coming! This time, it was too much. Mule tried to pinch his cheeks, but it was too late.

Mule kept trying to stop the flow, but realized it was useless and just let it go. Some of the people near him were crinkling their nose and looking at him. Mule headed back toward Squiggy, hoping they could leave.

The smell arrived a few seconds before Mule.

"Whooee!" Squiggy said.

The man lost his smile. It was replaced by a pained expression.

"Squiggy, we needs to go," Mule said. "I had an accident."

He was standing next to an older woman. She was also struggling with the smell. "I'd say you did, mister," the woman said. "Move over next to that there empty table. I'm about to vomit."

Mule nodded and crutched away. He threw on the brakes and looked at Squiggy. "It's coming again!"

His stomach growled and then squealed. Mule clinched up, but it did no good. Pretty much everybody was staring at him. He saw an opening to the bathroom and sped off in that direction, making excellent time. He went in the bathroom and stayed long enough for Squiggy to finish his first two plates. The man had given up and moved off to pray for somebody else.

Mule made it back to the table and sat down next to Squiggy. "Boy, I feel better!"

Squiggy nodded. He kept expecting the awful smell, but it had gone away. "How come you don't stink no more?"

"I took my drawers off in the bathroom."

Squiggy had a pained expression on his face. "What did you do with em?"

"I was gonna put em in the trash but it was full."

"And?"

"So I just put em in the sink."

"Can you move down a few seats?"

Mule looked around. There was plenty of room. It was almost like nobody wanted to sit by them. "How come?"

"Never mind. Let's go."

"Okay," Mule said. "I'm about as full as a dogtick."

They left their mess and headed toward the door. Squiggy looked for an offering plate, but the only one he saw was under the watchful eye of Mrs. Hunt and there was no way she would let him nab a few dollars.

The two men left and headed out in the country.

"Where we goin?" Mule asked.

"I wanna show you something."

Mule nodded. He had forgotten something, but could not remember what it was.

Chapter 15