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Monday, September 7th, 2020
“Gigi, come quick! Winston’s bleeding!”
Sarah hung up the phone. Gigi sprinted down four flights of stairs in a 500-dollar fleece bathrobe. (“Hooray, fake ID money!”) In front of Winston’s room stood Sarah - the color drained from her normally golden skin. Drops of blood trailed from Winston’s room to the men’s bathroom down the hall.
“His fucking crown fell out!” Sarah blurted out.
That morning, Gigi had put her dental knowledge to the test. Ah, the Guitar Guys broke Winston’s lateral incisor! She had sneaked Winston into the campus dental lab to fit him with a temporary crown. “Don’t bite down on it or eat anything too messy!” she had warned him. No chance. It was wing night at the Chubby Beaver Cafe.
The girls followed the blood to the bathroom door.
“I’m not going in there!” Gigi confidently declared.
“Oh, what was I thinking? Let me just magically fix his tooth with my 19 fucking years of dental experience!”
“But, but, but...that’s a male lavatory! And as his fraternal sibling, I surmise that you have unintentionally borne witness to his nether-regions...in the least intimate of circumstances, of course!”
“Stop bickerin’ and help me out, will ya?” came Winston’s muffled yell from the bathroom. “Fuck, this pain! Mama, make it stop!”
Gigi burst through the bathroom, where Winston and Tai wielded huge toy rifles. Sarah locked Gigi’s arms behind her head in a full nelson choke.
“What?! You’re okay?”
“First rule of paintball: never trust anybody,” Winston sneered.
Paintball was certainly on the menu on this first day of Fall Break. That night, Mama Beavers’ residence would be hosting the annual paintball tournament. And this morning, Winston, Tai, and Sarah were to give Gigi a proper introduction to the sport. With Super Soakers.
“Whatcha think, Winston?” Tai chuckled. “Shall we light her up?”
“I reckon we shall, roomie.”
Whipped cream spurted out of the Super Soakers, gagging Gigi’s mouth; tangling her jet-black hair; staining her luxurious robe.
“Whaaa! W-w-w-what the fuck, guys?” howled the Gigi sundae. “I just took an hour-long shower for nothing!”
“Hey, Winston, I have an idea,” Tai suggested, strolling over to the window.
“Oh, whatever may that be, Tai?” Winston played along.
Tai flung the window open, staring down the tunnel of a huge inflatable Slip-N-Slide. Only this slide was lubed up with light beer - not water.
“Time for your second bath, Gigi!” Sarah teased, tightening her grip and dragging Gigi to the window.
“You...do…not have permission to touch my body!” Gigi screamed. “This is sexual assault under North Carolina General Statute section 14-27.21, as signed into law by Bill-!”
The three freshmen heaved Gigi onto the beer slide. She continued rattling off state penal codes three stories down.
“Got ’em!” Winston cheered, celebrating with crisp high-fives. “Sheesh, is Gigi a lawyer now? What was that ramblin’ all about?”
“Beats me,” Tai mumbled. “I assumed Gigi knew everything but social skills.”
“Nah, Winston has a point,” Sarah agreed. “That legal mumbo jumbo is beyond the pale even for her. She and I will have to have a little chit-chat. Anywho...Winston, why don’t you go down there and check on her?”
“Fuck it, why not? I reckon I’ll enjoy a booze bath.”
Winston dived head-first onto the beer slide, careening against the sides. He consumed a pitcher’s worth of cheap beer before splashing three stories down into the Boozewalk: an inflatable moonwalk full of beer, enclosed by huge inflatable walls on all sides.
“Wait, what the hell?” Winston gasped, as a bathrobe floated in the booze bath. “G-Gigi? Is that you?”
The petite form of a woman rose to the surface, baring her pale face and smooth shoulders.
“Heeey, Winston,” slurred a seductive Gigi. “Looks like we’re finally alone in the dark. So...do you like me, Winston?”
“W-what? I...I think you should put your bathrobe back on, buddy.”
But Gigi did no such thing, likely naked below the frothy surface. Instead, she swam toward Winston as he backed up to the inflatable wall.
“What if I, like, totally sounded like Claire?” Gigi cooed, mimicking the southern girl. “Wouldn’t you, like, totally wanna get in my pants?”
“First of all, you’re not wearing pants. Second of all, you’re my best buddy. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“As you wish...I shall force myself on you instead!” Gigi shot to her feet, dressed in a pink South App tube top and black shorts. She pressed the muzzle of a paintball gun to Winston’s forehead. “Guys, now!”
Tai and Sarah burst through the mesh entrance. Paintball guns in hand, they splashed through the Boozewalk like the goddamn invasion of Normandy. “Freeze, mothafucka!” Tai screamed in a rare gangsta voice. As three armed assailants surrounded him, Winston raised his shaking hands.
“First rule of paintball,” Winston reminded himself, exasperated. “Never trust anybody.”
“Now where, oh where have I heard that before?” Sarah asked, throwing an arm around her brother’s shoulders. “Come on, it’s wing night!”
“Go without me and I’ll meet you at the truck!” Gigi said thoughtfully. “I’ve never tried beer, but I bet I can catch a buzz if I just float around in here!”
“Suit yourself,” Winston sighed, stepping out of the Boozewalk onto the grass. “It’s a damn shame my best buddy ain’t gonna be there to wipe the buffalo sauce off my face.”
They left Gigi alone in that dark, five-percent ABV bath. A sensory-deprivation chamber of sorts. She floated on her back, eyes closed and mind racing.
He turned down my romantic advances. Then again, he called me his best buddy! Now...I don’t know much about southerners, but methinks that’s a start.
Sarah stuck her head through the mesh entrance. “Heeey...so only lawyers and criminals know state penal codes. And, well, you’re not exactly either of those. Ya dig? So, I’m going to come straight out and ask: did someone sexually assault you?”
Gigi blinked. She slowly lowered herself into the beer bath as her fling with Twinston flooded her mind. Deeply kissing a man...that she thought was somebody else. Sliding off the boxer-briefs off a man...that she thought was somebody else. And telling that same man that she loved him.
Bubbles rose to the surface. Sarah grabbed Gigi’s shoulders and hoisted her to her feet. Her South Korean roommate was laughing her ass off, one eye twitching.
“Nope!” Gigi lied, shivering. “I willingly gave up my V-Card in a steamy one-night stand!”
***
Ryan blasted a .30-06 round from his Remington 783 bolt-action rifle. The bullet pierced the paper target 100 meters downrange. Heart shot.
Twinston walked into Dam Good Shot Gun Range. He and Ryan had the whole place to themselves on the Monday afternoon of Fall Break.
“Survey says it’s pure!” Twinston declared, slapping ABK’s bag of blue-and-white cocaine on the counter. Teja, their Indian brother, had tested the coke in the science lab that morning. (Meanwhile, Gigi had been sedating Winston in a dental chair a few floors up). The results: the only difference in BDE’s and ABK’s cocaine was the color of Walmart-brand glitter. ABK wasn’t just trying to compete with BDE. They were trying to run them off the fucking block.
“Well, you know what to do,” Ryan said matter-of-factly, racking the slide. “Confront Clyde about this shit head-on.”
“Hell yeah, I gotcha. Uh...should I get Winston to tag along? I reckon we’ll be more intimidatin’ with us both there. We’re the fuckin’ Wonder Twins when it comes to gettin’ shit done.”
Ryan blasted another round and missed his target. “Twinston, do you wanna borrow some mouthwash?”
“Huh?”
“I figure you’ll be needing it to wash the taste of Winston’s dick out of your mouth.”
Ryan racked the slide while Twinston dropped his jaw. But in light of the insult, he closed his mouth. Ryan’s fired again. Headshot.
“You’re BDE’s second-in-command,” Ryan reminded Twinston, holding down a button as the target returned to him. “And I need you to act like it. Deal with Clyde solo.”
The target came into full view. It was a security camera photo of Gigi in her baby-blue evening gown from the Masquerade.
What in the actual fuck? Twinston thought. It finally dawned on him that he had slept with a wanted woman that last weekend. Ryan’s wanted woman.
“Twinston, meet Ji-hye Moon, AKA Gigi. At first, I was pretty fucking pissed that you brought her to the house to fuck her. But after we got some footage, I was able to gather intel from students around campus. Not only is she friends with our very own Winston. But that filthy libtard hippie cunt, Sarah, is Winston’s fuckin’ sister! And not only did these bitches blow up my father’s ashes...they’re taking control of our entire fucking fake ID operation!”
Ryan paused. He unzipped his tote bag and withdrew an Uzi submachine gun with an extended suppressor. Twinston gulped as Ryan racked the slide and aimed at the photo at point-blank range.
“So, uh...what’s the plan?” Twinston stammered. “I mean, we ain’t got beef with Winston now, do we?”
“Word on Greek Row is that Winston and the girls are on the way to his Mama’s house as we speak. In my eyes, he’s harboring fugitives. That poor son of a bitch probably fears for their lives. Ha! Can’t I can’t say I blame him. I’ll be paying Cleft Falls a visit very, very soon.”
Ryan unloaded a 32-round clip into Gigi. 45-caliber rounds peppered the photo from head to toe. Finally, the barrel clicked, smoking and hissing. The photo was reduced to charred dust and ash on the floor.
Ryan fetched the cocaine, shoved his nose straight into the bag, and let out a carnal scream. Twinston slowly backed out of the gun range. He drove straight to the ABK house. But it wasn’t to confront Clyde about his cocaine empire. It was to warn him that Gigi’s life was now in danger. And given the history between Twinston and Gigi, Clyde would be a better man for the job.
***
The four freshmen were off to a late start to the siblings’ hometown of Trinity. Winston and Sarah were to blame. At the Chubby Beaver Cafe, they had challenged each other to a wing-eating contest (vegan wings for Sarah). Gigi had manned the ropes as Winston’s mouth-wiper; Tai as Sarah’s. Winston had won with flying colors. But Sarah hadn’t paid much mind, a lemon pepper smile beaming on her face. All she had cared about was being full.
Gigi and Tai exchanged puzzled looks in the back of Winston’s truck. “Hey!” she piped up. “Didn’t you wanna save room for your mom’s dinner?”
Sarah and Winston burst out laughing. Yes, their mother would be preparing a home-cooked meal from scratch. No, it would not be hamburgers and hot dogs.
“Oh, sweet summer children,” Sarah said condescendingly. She turned around in the passenger seat, her dreadlocks whipping Gigi in the face. “You have no clue, dude and dudette. See, we were born and raised under Mama Beavers. Do you know what that means? Why don’t you explain it to ’em, brother O’ mine?”
“With pleasure, sis! See, Mama Beavers is the most frugal woman on this side of the Mississippi. Prepare for a meal of epic backwoods proportions. Let’s see, Sarah. Do you reckon it’ll be fried gator skins or pickled chicken feet?”
“Oh! Don’t forget boiled okra soaked in fatback. Now that was quite a merry Christmas.”
Tai and Gigi contorted their faces in disgust. Their empty stomachs growled in protest. They hadn’t eaten anything all day.
“Hold tight,” Winston said, pulling up to the ABK frat house. He reached behind his seat and grabbed a wrapped present. A gift for Clyde. After Winston’s beating last week, the ABK president had turned in the Guitar Guys on aggravated assault charges. In return, Winston had torn down the Crenshaw Ave street sign, had fired a couple of pistol rounds into it, and had back-lit it with Christmas tree lights to create a custom neon sign. A rustic addition to Clyde’s man cave.
“Tai, will you go with Winston?” Sarah asked. “Gigi and I need a little girl time.”
Gigi’s antenna shot up. Winston and Tai got out of the car and headed up the driveway, intending to leave the present on their doorstep. Sarah whipped her head back, smacking Gigi with her dreadlocks again. Sarah rattled off questions like an auctioneer with Alzheimer's.
“So, how was it?
What positions did you try?
Were you drunk?
Was he drunk?
Did you use condoms?
How big?
Did it hurt?
Are you on the pill?
Do you need a pregnancy test?
Cut or uncut?”
Gigi flashed crazy eyes and forced a painful smile. She cackled psychotically. “Yes to all of the above!” A lie. “I...lost all control.” That was true.
Winston and Tai hopped back in the truck. “Welp, that’s that,” Winston declared, satisfied. “I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful-.”
“Gigi finally got laid!” Sarah blurted out.
***
6 PM: two hours until Ryan’s arrival
It was a painfully awkward car ride after Sarah announced that Gigi was no longer a card-carrying member of the Virginity Club. Gigi fought the urge to reach up front, pull Sarah’s dreads, and slap her to last week. But the passive Gigi merely sank into the hot leather seat while Tai and Sarah engaged in a heated debate about wearing leggings as pants.
“Um...I think you made the wrong turn?” Gigi broke her silence, tapping Winston on the shoulder.
“Nah,” he responded. Nonchalant. Robotic.
Winston pulled into Cleft Falls: a trailer park community in rural Trinity. A one-way bridge crossed the sewage runoff river. Dilapidated trailers were clustered on a small plot of land. Past that: a weed-infested open field as far as the eye could see. At the gated entrance, an old man with a shotgun snoozed in a rocking chair.
“Ay, Chuck!” Winston greeted, rolling his window down. “It’s been a while since-”
Chuck sprang up from his nap and fired birdshot into the air. Tai and Gigi screamed, hitting the floorboard. But Winston and Sarah laughed their asses off as the old man came to.
“Oh, my!” said the old man in a raspy voice. “Winston! Sarah! Hey, everybody, the Beavers are back!”
A flurry of broken screen doors sprang open like the intro to a Disney sing-along. Chuck raised the gate arm to let Winston through. Cautiously, Gigi and Tai sat back up in their seats.
Winston parked in front of the only double-wide trailer in the park. As soon as he stepped out of the truck, two little boys and a girl ran out of the trailer. “Winston’s back, Winston’s back!” they cheered, latching onto his knee and squeezing tightly.
“Oomph! Man, y’all are gettin’ big! Hey, easy now! Bahaha! Remember, hands off the beard!”
The kids wrestled Winston to the ground. Sarah leaned against the truck and crossed her arms with a sour face. Nobody ever paid the village liberal any mind...unless it concerned weed. Even the kids ignored Sarah to play with Gigi’s and Tai’s matching earrings.
“We picked these out together!” Gigi giggled. “Hey, wait! You can’t climb me like - whaaa!”
The three kids scaled Mt. Gigi with ease, reaching past her hair bow for that shiny silver earring. Gigi went tumbling down hard. Suddenly, the kids spotted something behind her, gasped, then sprinted away. A strong, calloused hand pulled Gigi to her feet.
Why...why do Winston’s rough hands turn me on so much?
But it wasn’t Winston. He was standing beside Sarah. The mysterious hand belonged to a short, plump lady in a denim pinafore dress and an ugly mustard flannel. A shaggy mullet that was the same shade as her childrens’ hair. Her rosy baby face formed a buck-toothed smile.
“Whale now!” cackled Velma Beavers. “I shoore hope y’alls hungry! There’s a’plenty chowda t’go ’round!”
7 PM: one hour until Ryan’s arrival
Gigi held her sour stomach on top of the trailer park’s huge dirt mound.
Dinner had been a stunning goat head and rich salmon carcass chowder. Winston and Sarah had defaulted to “We’ll pass, but our friends would love some!” Tai had snapped to the acting role of a lifetime. He’d gracefully dunked the ladle into the pot - only to spoon the chowder straight into the trash when Mama had turned away. Gigi was neither lucky nor skilled. So, she had sliced off a fatty portion of the goat’s cheek to garnish the thick, fishy brine. “It smells delicious!” she had lied, as the eye of the goat head mean-mugged her in that musty, cramped trailer.
Gigi vomited on the hill a third time, coating her tongue with hot stomach acid. There went yesterday’s breakfast. Now, she was starving.
“Ya know you’re sittin’ on a pile of dirt and manure...right?”
It was Winston. He walked up the mound and sat next to her. He scooted close, offering her a light beer and something wrapped in tinfoil. “Here, I whipped this up on Mama’s flat-top grill. It ain’t much, but-”
Gigi ripped open the Steak-Umm sandwich and shoved it into her mouth. She closed her eyes, letting the Grade-D meat, store-brand mayo, and Wonder Bread fill her empty stomach. Drunk food, you never let me down!
“Th-thank you!” Gigi yelped, hiccupping as she wolfed it down. She swiped the glass bottle of Bud Light Lime and took her first-ever sip of beer.
“It ain’t as sweet as that sugary cider,” Winston chuckled. “But we’re in a trailer park so that’s all we got. Now...while you eat, I wanted to have a word with ya.” Gigi nibbled her sandwich and sipped her beer, listening like a good student. “Shit, I feel like your dad,” Winston continued, scratching his head. “Giving you your first beer and...well, talking about...uh, sex. Look, I get it! I can’t be mad at ya for having your first experience and all. I just wanna make sure nobody hurts ya or takes advantage of you. So, I got a little gift for ya.”
“WHAT?!” Gigi choked, spitting out her beer. She looked down at the variety pack of condoms on her lap.
“Look, I know it’s weird,” Winston admitted to a beet-red Gigi. “I just...well, you never know when you’re gonna be in situations where you’ll need one and the guy ain’t got one.”
“Uh...Winston?” Flash floods from her night with Twinston.
“And who’s that type of guy, I reckon you’d ask? Well, I know him. He’s me.”
“Winston, stop.” She recalled when Twinston had pulled out a few seconds too late. After which, he’d fished out 50 bucks from his wallet for a Plan B...
“Okay, okay. One more thing. No means no, ain’t no matter if he’s more revved up than a Rausch engine at a tailgate, in the middle of the Indianapolis-”
Gigi stuffed her steak sandwich into Winston’s blabbering mouth. She gently placed the condoms on his lap while he fought a severe case of lockjaw. “I...I don’t use condoms?” she lied. “I’m on the pill. And I don’t have a boyfriend. It was...um, a one night stand!”
Winston spat out his food at Gigi’s shocking revelations. He cleared his throat, stood up, and chugged the rest of her beer. “I, uh,” Winston stuttered, catching a surprise light beer burp. “I’m gonna...get the guys ready for paintball.” He stumbled down the dirt mound, holding his head down in shame. Then, he straightened his shoulders, staring confidently at the sunset with his back turned.
“Sorry to be all overprotective and shit,” Winston muttered. “It’s just that...well, I’ve got a sister that I love. And I love you like a sister, too.”
Gigi’s heart pounded as Winston headed for the bonfire in the center of the trailer park. Gathered around was an army of rednecks in their 20’s and 30’s, suiting up in paintball gear. Suddenly, Gigi had fleeting psychotic thoughts of snatching a paintball gun and sticking the barrel into Winston’s gasping mouth. “You only love me like a sister?!”
“Whale, whale, whale,” cackled Velma from the top of the dirt mound. “I reckon at least one of muh family’s fixin’ ta marry up in this wurrrld. Thasss right. I reckon yew will live in a better place than this. Ain’t dat bad though. Some call’a muh home a trailer park. I like tuh of it as a...modular mansion. Oh! Muh baby said yew fixed his’a broken toof! That was mighty neighborly of ya’s.”
“Oh! It...made me happy to see him smile properly again. Your son is the brother I never had!” With that sudden admission, she politely bowed and headed for the bonfire.
8 PM
The trailer park boys had taken their sweet time drinking light beer and dicking around for an hour. Even Sarah had joined the fray, passing out joints like Willy Wonka. Gigi and Tai were sitting quietly in their lawn chairs, people-watching. “Let’s count how many times they pee on a tree!” Tai had suggested. They had soon run out of fingers and toes and had promptly given up.
“All right, game time!” Winston announced, picking up his paintball gun and firing off a couple shots into the air. They had purposefully delayed the game so that A: it would be darker, and B: they would be buzzed.
“Yee-haw!” cried a Coca-Cola addict with twelve teeth. “I want the purdy Asian gurrrl on muh team.”
“She’s a’mine, asshole!” responded a guy with teeth in the single digits. “I wanna shoot shit wit Miss Jackie Chan.”
Gigi smiled at her admirers, wishing for nothing more than to pull their rotten teeth and replace them with new veneers. Such a skill was beyond her reach...now.
“Man, y’all stop that fuckin’ nonsense!” Winston commanded, firing paintballs at a nearby tree. They exploded into glow-in-the-dark neon splatters. Soon, this entire park would turn into a meth-fueled rave. “Y’all know the routine already. Everybody open your hopper and look at your match. If the match has been lit, then you are it.
Fear drove Gigi to open her hopper first. Pulling out a fresh match, she slumped into her lawn chair like a proud dad after a good yard-mowing. She panned across the bonfire to see similar reactions from Winston, Sarah, then the snaggle-toothed trailer park boys.
Tai slowly backed away from the bonfire.
“Oh, my duuude!” Sarah crooned. She fetched a joint and placed it between Tai’s quivering lips. “Better toke up while you can. Should help with the gnarly pain that you’re about to experience!”
“All righty, then,” Winston called out, swiveling around to his teammates. “Y’all know the drill. Tai gets a two-minute head start. Starting-” Winston swiped the pistol from Gigi’s purse and fired a real gunshot. “-now!”
Tai shrieked, then jetted off into the woods. Winston and the gang laughed their asses off while a furious Gigi balled her small fists. She swiped her .22 back and kicked Winston in the shin.
“Ow, okay! Damn, Gigi...my bad!”
“I won’t sit idly by and witness my fraternal sibling mold his advanced bipedal hominid behavior into that of an ancestral neanderthal!”
Blank stares from everyone. Drool dripped down the meth heads’ mouths.
“I mean...I love you like a brother too!” Gigi announced to the world.
Meanwhile, Tai weaved between trees. He heard the burst-fire of paintball guns as the meth heads riled themselves up. Then, he stumbled over a gnarled tree root, plowing into a man wearing all black.
“Yo, shitskin.”
Ryan Hughes smacked Tai in the head with his Uzi, knocking him out.
After the two-minute countdown, Winston and Gigi cut their headlamps on and approached the woods. Unlike previous years, Sarah dragged her feet behind her brother, staring at the ground.
“Come on, scout,” Winston said, turning around to her sister. It was tradition for her to rustle bushes, scaring out prey for Winston to unload on.
“You don’t need me, bro,” Sarah said, smiling weakly.
“Sis...”
“Yo, Sarah!” a meth head called from further down the treeline. “Help us flank him from down yonder. And bring that kush witcha!”
Sarah took a deep breath, letting out a pilates sigh. “I’ll admit: I don’t dig this at all. Gigi and I sharing joint sisterhood with you, that is. Roomie, I never thought I’d say this...but I wish you two were in love instead.”
Sarah walked off. Winston’s headlamp illuminated the shock and awe on Gigi’s face. She quickly shut their lights off, then began choking on tears in the dark.
“Gigi, no - it’s all right, buddy,” Winston consoled her. He dropped his gun and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m...I’m ruining everything!” Gigi whispered, sobbing into Winston’s shoulder. “First, I ruined your brotherhood with the frat. And now, I’m ruining your sisterhood. I...can’t stop ruining your life.”
Winston cradled Gigi’s chin in the crick of his neck. He softly ran his fingertips up and down the petite girl’s spine. Gigi moaned softly, submitting to the harrowing strength of his arms. She pressed her ear against Winston's chest, listening to his sputtering heartbeat.
“If this is you ruining my life,” Winston began, “then please keep doing it.”
Winston released Gigi from his embrace. He reached up to her face to wipe a tear - but poked her eye instead.
“Eeek!” Gigi gasped.
“Ah, shit,” Winston muttered nervously. “Now if that ain’t some pure-tea-mouth-full-of-dick garbage. Fuck, I ain’t too good with words. Or aim. I-I’m sorry.”
“Well, that’s quite all right!” Gigi cheered confidently. “Because you just said the only words that matter. You gave me permission to ruin your life! And you. Can’t. Backpedal.”
Winston’s and Gigi’s phones vibrated. A text from Tai. Your buddies flanked me. I’m by the sewer. Meet me there.
“How the fuck did they reach him so fast?” Winston thought out loud. “Come on, Ji-hye.”
He...finally called me Ji-hye?!
Winston grabbed Gigi’s clammy hand and led the way through a labyrinth of gnarled roots and fresh spider webs. His stomping grounds for the past 18 years. Winston’s first kiss, first cigarette, and first taste of moonshine had all happened within this quarter-mile radius. All on the same day. When he was nine.
But no premature life experiences could prepare Winston for what he saw next. Tai lay face down on the ground in handcuffs. Towering over him was Ryan in all black, pointing a modded Uzi at Tai’s head.
“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Winston spat. Instinctively, he reached down where his paintball gun should have been. But he had been holding Gigi’s trembling hand instead. They had left their guns behind.
“I’m here for my bounty, Brother,” Ryan declared, beckoning Gigi with his Uzi. “Do you have any idea how much fucking shame she brought on my dad and our frat?” Gigi panned over to Winston, her face ghostly-white. “Not only did this yellow-bone slut defile my father’s ashes,” Ryan continued. “But she, along with this faggot over here, and your libtard sister stole our fucking fake IDs and kept the profits!”
“Winston, I’m fucking sorry, man!” Tai bawled, curling up in a fetal position.
Now Winston’s skin went pale. His allies’ betrayal was somehow more jarring than Ryan with a gun. Unlike this morning’s prank (commissioned for pure fun), Sarah, Tai, and Gigi had just stabbed a knife in Winston’s back and twisted it with a smile.
Winston released Gigi’s hand.
“Wise choice, Brother,” Ryan sneered, pointing the laser sight at Gigi’s forehead. “Now...walk forward, you fucking bitch!”
Gigi’s shoulders stiffened. Her large black pupils were resigned to death. She tossed a feeble smile Winston’s way. “W-what do you think we should do...brother?” A final attempt to muster what little sympathy Winston had left.
“I’m no brother of yours.”
“Please!” Gigi panted. “I was poor and desperate, and I really needed the money!”
BRRRAT-AT-AT.
A flurry of silenced Uzi rounds peppered a nearby tree, causing Gigi to shriek. Tai placed his mouth against the ground and wailed, knowing good and well he would be killed on the spot if he alerted the others.
“I guess karma’s a bitch after all,” Gigi whispered as a wet spot slowly formed on her jeans.
“Enough yapping, dumb bitch!” Ryan bellowed. “Get the fuck over here.”
Suddenly, Winston reared back and smacked Gigi in the face, sending her to the dirt.
“You fucking heard her, you goddamn double-crossing cunt!” With his steel-toed boot, Winston kicked Gigi in the stomach, causing her to lurch as she prostrated herself. As a million thoughts flashed through her mind, one stuck out.
Winston’s faking it? He must be faking it! Right?!
But fear struck the hopeful Gigi as Winston pulled out his Swiss Army knife. Even Ryan stared in confusion as he lifted her shirt up to reveal her slim waist.
“Bitch ain’t worth the fuckin’ bullet,” Winston snarled. “I’m gonna gut her like a fucking pig!” He pressed the tip of the cold blade on the smooth, pale skin just above her navel. Gigi sucked her stomach in, staring up at him with pleading puppy-dog eyes. He’s faking it, he’s faking it, he’s faking it! But the red-hot fiery pain that shot through her body was very real. A faint trail of blood followed Winston’s knife from her belly button to the cup of her lacy, black bra. A surface cut that ruined her immaculate porcelain skin.
The agnostic Gigi closed her eyes, murmuring a silent prayer as tears rolled down. But Winston spat in her face, breaking her trance.
“Fuck it! Let’s toss her in the goddamn sewer and let her rot with the shit and needles.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes, signaling both respect and approval. “G-goddamn, Brother. Now that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about. Talk about a clever way to hide this bitch’s body!”
“Ain’t no cop in the world gonna search a trailer park sewer,” Winston sneered.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck’s wrong with you, you fucking bastard?!” Tai blurted out.
“Shut the fuck up, you babbling fucking faggot!” Winston yelled. Taking out his frustration, he snatched Gigi’s ponytail and dragged her through the mud toward the sewer. She kicked, screamed, and gnashed her teeth as she felt the roots of her hair being pulled out. Tai’s helpless hand reached out for Gigi as they passed him.
“Go on, pick it up,” Winston commanded, pointing down at the manhole cover. “You made your bed. Now fucking lie in it.”
Gigi sucked in a breath and slowly knelt down to slide the cover off. As she struggled to lift, Winston noticed that she was no longer crying. In his eyes, she was holding onto some vain hope that this was all an act. Or that she would wake up from this nightmare soon.
“Yo, Ryan!” Winston called out, as Gigi set the manhole cover aside. “What d’ya say after this, we drive over to her mom’s house and wine and dine the bitch? After we’ve had our fun, we can snap her neck and toss the old hag down here with her daughter.”
Gigi’s face twisted into a look of horror that was simply inhuman. Her tears flowed freely again. Even Ryan’s hands trembled as he steadied his gun. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Winston,” he whispered, excited and hesitant. “Her mom’s that fuckable, huh?”
“Nah. But once she sees that gun, I reckon she’ll be willing to try on her daughter’s lingerie. If we ask politely.”
“This…is real,” Gigi mouthed through chapped lips and a hoarse throat. The hyperventilating, blubbering girl managed one last breath.
“I...f-f-fucking hate you, W-w-winston.”
Winston shoved Gigi into the sewer. A silent 50-foot drop. Tai buried his face into dead leaves, wailing like a dying animal.
“No fuckin’ witnesses,” Ryan muttered, cocking his Uzi. Tai’s short life flashed before him as the red-dot sight blinded his eyes.
“FUCKING COCKSUCKERS!!!”
Suddenly, a screaming man burst from the woods and tackled Ryan to the ground. A flurry of Uzi rounds pierced the air. Coming to his senses, Winston dived on top of Tai, shielding him from any stray bullets.
“Winston, what the fuck man?!” Tai screamed, ignoring the two mens’ struggle beside them.
“She’ll be fine, roomie,” Winston stammered, tears welling up at Gigi’s last statement. He averted his gaze to see that the mystery man had won the struggle. The man stood up with the Uzi barrel at Ryan’s head. Emphasis on ‘stood up’, because that man was Alpha Beta Kappa’s very own Clyde Crenshaw.
“Fuck me, I don’t know what the fuck to ask you first,” Winston groaned, pushing himself to his feet. Sure enough, Winston was stuck between How in the sam fuck did you know we were here? and How in the sam fuck are you walking? But none of that mattered now. Winston limped over to the sewer entrance and called out. “Gigi! Can you hear me?”
A soft voice echoed from below. “Mmm...wha...I...I’m here. What...what h-happened? What’s...going on? So soft...”
“Winston, you fucking traitor!” Ryan spat. Clyde pressed his Converse onto the back of Ryan’s neck - gun at the ready.
An explanation: Cleft Falls was North Carolina’s largest dumping ground of used mattresses. In the dead of night, drivers would back their trucks up to the sewage canals to heave their beds overboard. Twin, queen, and even king-sized mattresses would make the long, filthy trek down the sewage runoff, backing up to this sewer entrance. Winston’s mom would beg her young son to play outside while she brought over new men to the trailer. Young Winston’s favorite passtime? Stacking mattresses 10 layers high, climbing up the ladder, and swan-diving from the top.
As part of Winston’s plan, those mattresses had broken Gigi’s fall.
“Thank fucking God you’re alive!” Winston yelled, tears streaming down his face. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you anymore. Clyde, I reckon you’ve called the cops?”
“You’ve reckoned right, Brother,” Clyde responded, calling him that just to piss Ryan off.
“Fuck you!” Ryan scoffed. “I swear I’ll fucking kill all of you!”
“Good,” Winston responded to Clyde, ignoring his former brother. His tears dripped down the long, dark descent, sprinkling onto Gigi’s face.
“It’s...raining?” Gigi asked, slipping in and out of consciousness on an old, surprisingly comfy, Tempur-Pedic.
Tai came up from behind and swung his handcuffed arms in front of Winston, playfully choking him. “That’s not rain! Hey Gigi, Winston is crying for ya! Remember, he loves you like a quote-unquote brother!”
“Ah, fuck me,” Winston chuckled, exasperated.
“Hey, Gigi, did you hear that?” Tai yelled again. “Winston wants you to-WAH!”
Winston shoved Tai into the sewer to join Gigi on Mattress Mountain.
***
Cop cars lit up the trailer park as Winston, Gigi, Tai, and Sarah stood outside the entrance. A shivering Gigi huddled for warmth beneath Winston’s childhood fleece blanket. Turns out those old, rotten mattresses had been soaking in every form of mystery liquid in the sewer. The smell was rancid. An equally-rancid Tai distanced himself from Gigi while he recapped the incident to Sarah. Winston stood behind Gigi with his arms wrapped around her waist. Gigi fell asleep standing up, snoring gently as he rested his hand on her scar.
“Whoa, that’s fucking gnarly!” Sarah reacted with dilated pupils. “Shit, I sure did pick a bad time to get high with the other guys.”
“You what?!” Winston and Tai’s voices cracked.
Sarah shrugged. Then, a tall, muscular guy approached. “Whoa, you’re...walking?! Fuuuck, how high am I?”
No-longer-permanently-seated Clyde joined the circle. He crossed his arms, admiring his own two perfectly-working legs.
“Look, this stays between you and me,” Clyde mumbled in his deep, baritone voice. “If word gets around to the other brothers…” He hissed as he dragged a finger across his neck.
“Hey man, we owe you our fuckin’ life,” Winston said, squeezing Gigi’s waist tightly as her breathing quickened. “Your paraplegic secret's safe with us. But...how in the sam fuck did you know to come here?”
Clyde’s stone-sour face formed a twisted smile. “I’ll spare you the details, but...Twinston tipped me off.”
Gigi was still fast asleep in Winston’s arms, and it was probably for the best that she was unable to react to such news. “I see,” Winston responded. “Shiiiet. He is my better half, after all.”
Clyde nodded, then walked toward his truck. Through the windows, they saw the custom paraplegic hand controls. A reminder that Clyde would now be returning to his wheelchair-bound self.
“Winston! Oh muh lawd, muh baby!”
A tearful Velma rushed Winston and Gigi, gripping them in a bear hug that only a Mama could muster. Gigi gasped, awakened from a dream of Winston spooning her on a floating mattress in the sky.
“Ahm so glad y’all’s okay!” Velma continued, showering her son with kisses. Tai grinned at a frustrated Sarah, who threw her hands in the air.
“Hey, what about me, Mom?” Sarah complained. “I got so high that I got lost in the shower! Why don’t I get any fucking love around here?”
“Muh sweet daughter, of course ya do! H’why, I reckon you’ll get plenty of lovin’ from the guys tonight! There’s a gig of trailer park boys just a’sleepin’ in your old childhood room as we speak.”
“WHAT?!” Sarah sprinted toward Velma’s trailer, hell-bound to get to those meth heads before they raided her panty drawer. Or worse: before they found her secret stash of California kush. Tai, Sarah’s closest ally, chased after her.
Winston, Gigi, and Velma made small talk about their Michelin-star dinner. Then, a five-year-old neighborhood boy approached. Gigi stopped laughing, analyzing the boy’s mutated facial features. Cleft palate. Severe underbite. Angular cheilitis.
“I’m vewy sowry for evewything. I hope you come back see us.”
Gigi crossed her arms and bowed, her huge brown eyes beaming pitifully. “I promise when I get my dental degree, I will return and fix everybody’s teeth for free!”
“Pwahmise?” the boy responded in wonder. Even Velma flashed a toothy grin at such a grand proposition.
“If I don’t, Winston has to kiss me!”
“Ewww, cooties!” the boy cringed. He turned around and sprinted off toward Velma’s modular mansion: the home base for all kids in the trailer park.
Velma leaned forward and gave Winston a quick peck on the cheek. “Stole ya kiss, Gigi! So long, son. I luh ya’s.”
Velma left for her trailer. The cop cars finally peeled out, heading for the county jail. Winston and Gigi stood alone at that trailer park entrance. As a cool breeze hit, she pulled his blanket over her shoulders. She closed her big brown eyes, leaning forward for a kiss...
But before she could, Winston placed a hand on Gigi’s shoulder, signaling her to stop. Her eyes shot open, and she shuffled back. “Oh! I’m...sorry! I failed to discern that the atmosphere of such a…rustic locale may sap the romance from a potential initial kiss! And fail to mention will I not the fact that I was stranded in a sewage depository! And...that I may or may have soiled myself…”
But it wasn’t the location or the smell that stopped Winston from kissing her. He took a deep breath and placed both hands on Gigi’s shoulders like a fourth-down huddle.
“Look at me,” Winston began. “Aside from this whole...fake ID debacle, is there anything else I need to know about?”
Gigi’s heart sank. She audibly gulped. Winston’s suspicions were correct, and all she could think about was Winston’s prized gun marinating at the bottom of Rumwood Lake. The lost gun that caused him so many sleepless nights - that prompted him to flat-out buy a new gun that he re-gifted to her, of all people.
After tonight’s battle, Gigi was in no condition to bury it in her conscience.
“Ji-hye,” Winston repeated her real name again, attempting to calm down the twitchy-eyed girl. “I just need to make sure I’m gonna be able to trust you.”
“I’m so sorry!” Gigi cried out. She buried her face in his chest and confessed the ‘where’, ‘when’, and ‘why’ of his prized Colt Single-Action Army revolver. But as she wound down her colorful story, Winston wasn’t seething. He was...grinning mischievously.
“Mom, now!” Winston called out.
Winston broke away from Gigi’s embrace, and Velma fired a pair of paintballs at center mass. Brilliant neon splatters coated Gigi’s small breasts in a dazzling display of sweet, sweet revenge.
Gigi’s jaw hit the floor. Then, with a bashful smile, she opened her mouth to speak.
“First rule of paintball,” chanted Winston, Gigi, and Velma in unison. “Never trust anybody.”