Chapter 41

Squiggy about came unglued. Mule had just wasted a full beer by dropping it. Now there was glass and spilled beer all over the floor under them and Mule appeared to be under some kind of spell.

"Dang, Mule! You spilled a beer!" That was a high crime to Squiggy. You didn't waste a beer in his presence. After all, that was another one he could have drunk.

Mule continued to stare at the man over by the bathroom. Squiggy turned around to see what the big deal was with the guy. He was an older man with long and stringy brown hair that didn't look like it had been washed since Clinton was president. He wore a blue button-up shirt with the sleeves cut off at the shoulders. His shirt was unbuttoned about halfway down, revealing some cheap-looking necklace.

The man's eyes were round and full. He had a nose that was too big for his face and a cleft chin. He was slowly drinking a beer and looking back at them. The woman next to him was bad. A large woman with poofy hair. She was bad enough Squiggy wouldn't even pursue her if it was after midnight.

Squiggy waved his hand in front of Mule, not that it seemed to do any good. "Hey!" Still no reaction. "Mule, you homo!"

Squiggy pushed on his friend's arm but couldn't get his attention. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the beer and the dance floor. He might be out of action down there, but it couldn't keep him from enjoying the wiggling out courtesy of the dancers.

Every few minutes, he would look at Mule to make sure his friend was still breathing. He always was, but still stared at the man. Finally, Squiggy had enough. He got down from his stool and walked toward the bathroom. He approached the table where the man and woman were sitting.

"Move it, blimp," he said. The woman grunted and moved over. "Hey, you know that feller over there?"

The man looked at Mule. There might have been a touch of recognition, but Squiggy wasn't sure. The man shrugged. He opened his mouth and revealed what Squiggy considered to be crack teeth. Most of the teeth were missing. The few that were left were nothing more than stubs. His breath almost burned Squiggy's nostril hairs.

"Whoo, dude!" Squiggy said. "Ever heard of mouthwash?"

The man nodded but thankfully kept his mouth open. Squiggy could see the man's skin was rough and his face covered with blackheads, especially the nose.

He dug in his pocket and came up with a mint. "Stick this in yer mouth, smelly, and come over here with me."

The man stuck the mint in his mouth and swallowed it, like that would help with the bad breath. He grabbed his beer, stood and started following Squiggy. The man was huge, standing almost a foot above Squiggy, even though he was a little stooped while walking. He followed Squiggy over to the table.

With every approaching step, Mule looked more frightened. He was scooting back away from the table and his mouth was open. Squiggy sat back down in his stool. The man was standing next to him, staring at Mule.

"Sit down," Squiggy said. The man started to sit next to Squiggy. "Not so dang close. I don't wanna have to smell you. Get over in that chair."

The man followed Squiggy's direction and sat in the chair closest to Mule. The woman approached the table and tried to climb up on the bar stool. She was apparently stuck with her ample buttocks stuck approximately six inches from Squiggy's face.

At first, Squiggy didn't notice the woman's rear in his face. When he did, the Squigster was not happy. "Crapfire! Get that fat arse outta my face! My gosh! I'm gonna have nightmares!"

It was bad enough that she had her rear lodged so close to his face, but she also appeared to have a serious wedgie.

"Help me!" said the woman.

"Bullcrap!" Squiggy said. "I ain't touchin that thing."

The woman finally gave up on climbing Mount Bar Stool and climbed down. She almost stumbled and fell back toward Squiggy, who was almost knocked out of his bar stool.

"Watch what you's doin, blimp!" he said.

"Sorry," she said. The woman smiled and Squiggy saw she had lost most of one of her front tooth.

"Man, that's gross," said Squiggy.

"What is?"

"You."

The woman nodded and looked down at the table. There were several beers on the table. She looked at them and licked her lips. She even had a fat tongue, Squiggy noticed.

"Can I get me one of them there beers?" she asked.

"Nope. Go get yer own."

"I ain't got no money."

"Get Brad Pitt over there to buy you one," Squiggy said, pointing at the man who was exchanging stares and no conversation with Mule.

"He won't." She leaned closer to Squiggy, like she wanted to share a secret.

"Back off!" Squiggy said and held a hand out.

"Sorry," she said. "He ain't got no money."

That was not a surprise to Squiggy. The man looked like he had not worked in years. "Y'all got a starin contest going on?"

The two men turned to look at Squiggy, then returned to looking at each other. He caught the woman reaching for a beer.

"You still wantin one?" he said. The woman nodded. Squiggy handed over a bottle from the middle of the table. "You can have this one."

The woman smiled, revealing the bad tooth and took a swig. As soon as it hit her lips, she spit it back out, all over the front of her shirt. "That ain't beer! What was that?"

Squiggy was about to bust a gut. He had slid her his spit bottle and she had taken a big swig. This was almost too good. If only somebody had else had seen it!

"That ain't right!" she said, wiping some of the tobacco juice off her chin with the back of her hand. "I oughta kick your scrawny butt!"

Squiggy giggled. "Yeah, you and what army?"

"That army," she said and pointed at a table over in the far corner. Four men were sitting there, huge guys with arms the size of tree trunks. They all had long beards and wore overalls. "They's my brothers!"

She started walking in their direction. Squiggy knew he had to think fast. "Hey, hold up there." The woman turned around. "Sorry bout you drinking my spit. Here, I'll get you a beer."

The woman returned back to the table and once again started climbing the stool. "Gimme a hand!"

"I'll give you a beer but I ain't touching that thing," Squiggy said.

"Guess I'll have to tell my brothers what you said about them."

"I didn't say nothing about them!"

"They won't know that. Gimme a hand!"

Squiggy slowled moved his hand out and placed it on the woman's rather ample right butt cheek. He gave a shove and the woman was able to climb up on the stool.

"Now that wasn't all that bad, was it?" she said.

Squiggy scooted his stool away. "Mule, let's go!"

Mule looked at his friend and then back at the man, who returned the stare. Squiggy was extremely bored. Now, his buddy was locked up in a staring contest and this immense creature was sitting next to him. Squiggy usually could care less what people thought, but he certainly didn't want anybody to think he was with her.

Squiggy got down from his chair and walked over to Mule. "I'm leaving, dude."

He started to walk away. Mule reached out and grabbed him by the shirt. "It's...it's my..."

He was stuck, unable to get the next word out. Squiggy slapped him on the back and the word came out, one he never expected to hear.

Chapter 42