Grimoire Diabolique

Maxine chuckled. “Oh, he’s such a li’l devil, ain’t he? Always throwin’ his poop around.”

Rosser stood aghast. The waste wasn’t particularly solid, more like warm chocolate pudding, or mousse. Creamy. Smacking noises caught his attention next. He looked at Shots again and saw his little fingers playing with a few strings. The kid cackled greedily, then pointed a spermy finger at Rosser.

“Ga! Ga-ga!”

I’m…absolutely…mortified, Rosser thought.

Maxine was grinning at him, but it was a lascivious grin if anything. She was tweaking her nipples through her top. “I gotta tell ya somethin’, handsome. Suckin’ dick makes me horny as a bitch in heat, and after that blow-job, I am ALL fired up fer you. Git them pants back down. I’ll get’cha hard again in a jiffy, then you’s kin fuck me.”

Rosser’s shoulders slumped as if his collarbones had turned to rubber. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Does it look like I’m kiddin’, cutie? Come on, I’se serious. No charge, neither.” She looked at him and licked her lips. She pulled her knees back up, raised her hem, and bared the entire nightmarish mess that was her vagina. “Come’n get it.”

“There is no way. There is no circumstance that exists on the surface of the earth that could compel me to have sex with you.”

She blinked, uncomprehending. “Huh?”

“Let me put it another way, since you clearly don’t understand the English language. I would rather die than put my dick in you.”

Another blink, then the obese face reddened. When she lowered her knees, her big, corn-riddled flipflopped feet smacked the cement. The baby started crying.

“You ain’t got no right to be so shitty ta me!” she railed, her voice rising. “I’m a respected woman round these parts—”

Rosser rolled his eyes.

“—and I won’t stand fer bein’ treated like that. So you git down on yer knees right now’n fuck me!”

“That won’t be happening,” Rosser said, nose crinkling at the shit-smell from his shirt. “That’s an impossibility.”

“Then gimme more money!” she demanded.

“No. I already gave you money.”

“Why you prick! You asshole!” she began, her face nearly crimson now. The baby was crying in force, in machine-like bursts.

“Who do you think you are!” Maxine continued, “treatin’ me like common tramp!”

Rosser rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’ll show you, I’ll show you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rosser said. She’s flaking out. I’ll just leave. It’ll only take me a half hour to get back to Luntville. He picked up his dollar-store bag, turned to leave—

“Oh, yeah, I’ll fix your wagon, buddy.” Now she was on her feet, the baby left to squall on the bench. “You just watch.”

She bumbled toward him, flipflops snapping, tits jumping. At first Rosser thought she was going to assault him, but instead she edged out of the shelter, maniacal. Rosser just stared at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She stood in the middle of the vacant road, waving at something. That’s when Rosser noticed that the vacant road wasn’t vacant anymore.

The next bus was coming.

Maxine ludicrously jumped up and down in the road, waving her hands. Each time she landed, her fat jiggled in ripples.

“Help! Help! Hurry!”

Rosser was totally off guard. “What-what are you doing?”

“Help! This man molested my l’il baby!”

WHAT! “I didn’t do anything of the sort!” Rosser shrieked at her. “You’re the one who spit my semen in his mouth! Stop it!”

“Help! Hurry! Child molesterer! Child molesterer!”

The bus was getting real close, and the driver would have a radio. And call the police, he realized. “Just stop it! Here, here, I’ll give you more money—”

“Fer-GET it, ya prick. I’m gonna fuck you up!”

Rosser tried to calm down. If he ran away, it would appear to the driver and passengers—material witnesses—that Rosser was guilty. If he stayed and stood his ground to dispute the allegation, he’d be more credible than she, right?

Then he looked at the baby. Shots was sitting back up in the shelter, waving pudgy arms and flinging more excrement. But his little fat and thoroughly atrocious face told all. Cloudy white blobs were still ringing his mouth.

Fuck!

Rosser ran.

The area seemed so wide open but then he noticed a decline off the road. He trotted down. He dared jerk his gaze behind him and saw the bus had already stopped, the driver and several rather rough-looking passengers coming out the door as Maxine wailed, “He molested my baby, my poor li’l Shots, right here in the shelter. I tried to stop him but he said he’d kill me—”

Oh, that’s just terrific! Rosser thought.

“Jerked off right in my baby’s face, he did!”

“Look at that! Damn if she ain’t right,” a passenger exclaimed. “Poor kid’s face is covered with jizz—”

“I’m calling the police,” the driver yelled and went back in the bus.

“Ain’t gonna be no need fer no police,” another, bigger, passenger assured, “not if we find this sick fucker first—”