Pork Chops and Applesauce

Here’s the chase, and I’m going to cut to it:  as most of you know, I’ve finally published a book, which is currently available to purchase on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.   A few years ago, I decided to write the book to dispel some of the hatred I had for my sociopathic ex-husband, who took great delight in tormenting not only myself but several other women with physical and mental abuse.   Therefore, under the guise of a fictional work, I kill the son of a bitch.   He and other like minded individuals.  What better way to get even, I ask?   Course there are hints of truth intertwined about our past, throughout this macabre maze of fiction.

It’s a hoot, that is, if you’re into this kind of thing.   Serial killers and such, that brand of thang.   Well, I welcome you to check out the links to purchase your copy, and what’s new… That is, I’ve already begun to write  a sequel, so if you’re so inclined check it out below;  share, comment, or not OR completely ignore all of this and go eat a burrito.   Have a good day, my friends… Hope you enjoy.  Be well. ~B

PS: the book links, and new chapter to follow:

Amazon Paperback Book and Ebook

Barnes & Noble Paperback Book

 

Pork Chops & Applesauce

If I had but the time and you had but the brain.”

Lewis Carroll, The Hunting of the Snark

     Bonteville Springs trailer park situated just outside the littered shores of Revere Beach was replete with a treasure trove of the Devil’s royalties. The recompense for his bountiful gifts of crackheads and whores who roamed the city streets; his faithful servants who were hyper-vigilant in selling loathsome misery shrouded with a deceptive sheen of promise. They flocked here, they were home, comforted by the relatable mediocrity of their neighbors, and Friday night never mattered; because every night was a party.

     The park’s welcome sign swung from two rusty bolts and dangled upside down with a giant dick spray painted across the front; a true guidepost to Hades.  Refreshments weren’t free here, but an old Coca-Cola vending machine sat near the recreation center, which was an amusing time capsule to the 1980’s when this place was inviting; and the vendors weren’t afraid to come. The light would occasionally blink on the front panel, as though it would eerily come to life, which would light a nearby path to a passerby.

     The very path which led to the community fire pit behind unit 23, where an entourage of greasy occupants would flock almost nightly. Smokes, jokes and the hissing pop of a beer can would fill the night air with the daily gossip of Bonteville Springs. Bonteville’s barefoot toddlers would bound through that same dirty trail until midnight yapped at their heels, and their giggles clung to grey smoke which smeared the night air.  Their parents oblivious to the time and their nightly sugar intake, with heaps of candy and soda to be had.

     That night, at the Bonteville fire, Ed Tousley, with the snap of his fingers he playfully commanded his girlfriend, Maria, when he called out, “Hey, snap out of it!!” He continued to snap his fingers in front of her vapid expressionless eyes.

     Quickly she brushed his hand out of her view when she replied, “Leave me alone, Eddie. I told you I’d come to the fire tonight, that doesn’t mean I gotta put up with your shit. I’ll just go home if you’re gonna keep this up all night. So fuckin’ cut the shit!”

    Everyone at the fire stopped to await Ed’s response which was more often than not, violent past ten p.m.; all depending on how many beers he had torn through. Eddie didn’t heed her warning and playfully pulled her closer while everyone looked on as the tension slowly grew. He lowered his body as he stumbled forward and ribbed her side when he prodded her incessantly.

     Adam Philips, with his Red Sox ball cap dangling over both eyes, called over to Eddie hoping to avert disaster, “Hey man, we are all just trying to have a good time here. Just let her relax, ok?”

     Eddie curtly replied, “Yo man, I’m not doing anything wrong! She’s just being a bitch as usual. Always a damn buzzkill, every damn night, ain’t nothing new. Nothing to see here! Nothing to see!”

      Eddie stood to his feet and dramatically swung his arms when he screamed at the top of his lungs, “Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Maria Scarpetti is in a bitchy fucking mood!”

      His drunken showmanship ended with a hearty laugh to which no one joined, and as he continued to bellow out hysterical laughter he planted himself on a nearby tree stump; only to fall forward moments later when a tree branch abruptly gouged his left eye.

      Eddie stood to his feet holding his eye as he screamed, “Awwwwe man!!! FFFFFF…uuuuucccck!! Maria, go get me some ice!”

     Maria replied, “Naw, I’m good, I’m gonna finish this Spiked lemonade and then make my way to bed. You wanna give me a hard time all night?  That’s karma right there, dirty rotten son of a bitch.”

     After Maria’s last word she swiftly brought the bottle to her lips and triumphantly sucked another sip with a resounding pop. She and everyone at the fire laughed at Eddie as he continued to stumble forward cupping his eye, cussing at everyone who joined in.

        “Fuck you guys, man, this shit hurts, damn it! It’s not funny! Zach, man could you go get me some ice? I can’t see, man!!”, Eddie pleaded with Zach who had coincidentally passed out a half an hour before.

     Tom Belanger, one of Eddie’s long time friends, attempted to lead Eddie home by the arm when he said, “Hey come with me dude, maybe time to call it a night, I’ll get you some ice at your house.”

    Only he abruptly thrashed his arm from Tom’s affable touch and scolded him, “Don’t fucking tell me what to do mother fucker!”

     Suddenly, Ed’s eye had miraculously healed when he realized that the sympathy wasn’t as forthcoming as he’d hoped. He released the once tenacious and rather theatrical grasp he had on his left eye and shuffled over to the cooler from which he plucked a fresh Coors Light. He stood near the fire, with a sweaty beer in hand, the orangish sparkling hue illuminated his face to reveal his slightly reddened and puffy eye, when he began to stammer another resounding speech.

     “HA! You…You…th..think all ya’ll mother fuckers got the last laugh on me! Nawww! I got the last fuckin’ laugh!” Eddie bellowed with an abridged burp that reverberated through those last few words.

     “Hey Lisa, you asshole, wanna hear something funny?! I got a real funny joke for you,” he taunted her as he stood near the fire and it eerily lit his evil sneer.

   Lisa shot him a disinterested look over the glare of her smartphone when she replied, “No one cares, Eddie.”

     He growled back, “Shut the hell up, no you’ll care about this, Lisa! Trust me, you’ll..you’ll care!”

     She scoffed, “Pffft ! Yeah ok, whatever Ed.”

         “Oh yeah, hey Adam, remember last week when Lisa was supposed to be visiting her cousin Kristin? Yeah she wasn’t visiting her cousin, she was fuckin’ her old high school flame, Kurt. Don’t believe me? Ask Maria, she told me alllll about it,” Ed finished his story with a haughty scoff of derision, as though he was taunting school girl.

    Maria stammered as she stood to her feet and tried to pull Ed from his soapbox, “Hey, hey… Ed, what the hell is up with tonight?”

    Adam instantly turned to Lisa and her once indifferent expression was now consumed with shock. Maria continued to incessantly tug on Ed’s shirt sleeve to somehow blockade the wreckage spilling from his mouth; only to no avail, it kept coming.

     He continued to stare down Adam and imitated monkey sounds while scratching his head as he continued to mock him, “Yeah you know, Kurt?! Her old boyfriend, man are you gullible, you’ll believe anything! Shit, man.”

     Adam said nothing but hung his head in shame, but the torture had only just begun. Eddie extended his arm over the rising flames and pointed toward Tom, his flannel shirt almost impervious to the scorching embers; all while his grin consumed his face with a visceral kind of evil joy as it was brightly lit with the flickering flame.

     His fingered wavered toward Tom as he lurched his head backward and he laughed as he exclaimed, “You! Tom, such a nice guy! Always doing the right thing!”

     Tom attempted to plead with him, “Eddie, c’mon man, let’s not do this. Let’s just call it a night, huh? You’ve already pissed everyone off, why not just quit while you’re ahead? You know..”

     Eddie cut him off before he could finish as he turned from him waving his  arms dismissively, “Yeah, yeah you’d like that, you’d like that wouldn’t you? To look like the hero for the night? Yeah well fuck you, man!”

    He turned around and spit on the ground quickly swiping white froth from his bottom lip as he continued, “Naw, man, Naw, not tonight.”

     Tom replied as he attempted to sit up from his seat, “Well, I’m done. I’m going…”

    Only before he was on his feet, Eddie shoved him back into the chair which crumbled beneath him when one of the back legs snapped; and he paced back triumphantly to his center stage in front of the slowly dwindling crowd. A friend who sat nearby Tom, Rocco, tried to help Tom up but he reassured him he was ‘ok’ as he slowly stood to his feet and somberly stared down Ed across the fire.

    “You,” again Eddie insisted while pointing his finger at Tom, “You! You wanna know something?! You might wanna listen, because this is FUNNY!” He added extra emphasis on the last word as he yelled it toward his face and a froth of hops sprayed from his lips and hissed as it flung forward into the fire.

    Tom crossed his arms and replied while shaking his head, “Sure Eddie, what have you got for me now?”

   Ed turned around and paced a little ways up the dirt path while he tugged on his drooping pants to cover the exposed boxer shorts which peeked through the brim of his tattered jeans. He then thrashed his arms overhead to dismiss every word Tom had thrown his way. Quickly he paced back and came as close as he could to the fire, where he would ensure he could be seen and heard by all.

    Ed brought his finger to his lips when he excitedly replied, “Shhhh! Shhhhh, Tom! Shhhhh! You, time for YOU to listen.  Time for you to shut up and listen!”

      He continued with a laugh, “You didn’t think I saw you that day, Tom. But I saw you. I saw you! That day at your mom’s funeral, before we went to the cemetery, you snuck back in to say goodbye one last time,” he held one finger up and continued, “That ONE last goodbye, Tom. You thought the room was empty and by all accounts it shoulda been. But it wasn’t bud, IT wasn’t! I walked in to grab a lighter that fell outta my pocket, and I saw you!! I SAW you taking jewelry from your mama’s wrist and fingers! Stealing from your dead mom, worthless son of a bitch!”

     Everyone now awkwardly silent turned to await a response from Tom, only he just shook his head and sneered softly chuckling. The confidence of his stance didn’t break an ounce when he replied, “And you think people are going to believe that bullshit, Eddie? Coming from you? Look at you, everyone here can’t stand to be around you half the time.  While half the time you can’t even stand…Pffft! You’re nothing but a worthless drunk, and me? Me? Well, I’m a good guy, Eddie.”

    Tom began to walk toward Ed and needled him in the chest with his finger as he continued, “I’m the guy people call when they need a ride or a twenty spot till payday,” he laughed when drew closer to Ed’s face as he emphatically spoke his final words, “YOU?! They call you when they wanna get high and stupid for a night. No one will ever believe you, Eddie. Your word ain’t worth the shit my dog took this mornin’, and you know it.”

    Maria tugged at Ed’s arm as he looked up and just stared into Tom’s eyes, frozen still with either fear for retaliation or a brief moment of sobriety which struck. Ed finally replied as he averted his eyes, “Pfffft! I don’t need your shit! Like you’re somebody, Tom. You’re a nobody too, man.”

    Ed stumbled back from Tom’s awkward closeness as he sucked the last few sips from his beer, and just shook his head, as if in disbelief of Tom’s alleged betrayal.

   Hastily he turned his back toward Tom when he started down the dirt path, and called out to Maria, “Come on’ let’s go home now, I’m done with all these dickheads for the night.”

     Tom taunted him when he called out, “Yeah that’s right go home, Ed! No one wants to play ball anymore. Wahhhh! Wahhh!”

    Ed ignored him as walked away seething with rage, and Maria followed closely behind; struggling, her arms brimming with lawn chairs and a cooler. Once they arrived home, he quickly slapped the thin screen door open and flung his body across the squalid bare mattress which laid on their living room floor.  Maria entered soon thereafter, and began to empty the cooler into their fridge merely feet away.

    While she was organizing the sparse contents of their fridge, Eddie sat up and called out to her, “Hey Maria! Maria!”

    She hesitantly asked, “Yeah, what is it? I’m tired, I just wanna go to sleep, can’t we just talk about all this tomorrow, huh?”

    He lurched forward from where he sat and pulled Maria close to his body and attempted to kiss her ear as he caressed her hips and tugged at button on the front of her jeans. Instantly, she defiantly pushed his arms away from her body and grabbed a water from the fridge before she sat down at the kitchen table which overflowed with junk mail and several empty pizza boxes.

    She reached over toward a pile of crusty magazines and selected the top issue of Vogue. The very same issue she had read a dozen times, which had hard water rings across the front, bleeding the model’s face into adjacent black letters. She had no real intention to read, this was yet another staged distraction.

   Eddie leaned back onto his hands against the counter directly across from Maria when he looked at her and asked, “Really, Maria? Really, you can’t cheer me up a little?”

   Maria responded indifferently, “Nope, just sleep it off and leave me alone, Ed.”

    He scoffed at her when he said, “Really that’s what you think,” as he pulled a .22 caliber pistol from his back pocket and placed it against her head.

   Maria instantly reeled back from the end of the gun; only Ed jutted forward and rammed the cool end against her right temple as he slammed her head against the window pane just above their table. Her body pinned beneath his, and his chest heaved against her partially exposed breasts with each excitable breath. He said nothing for several minutes, he just continued to push the gun deep into her skin, which left a deep red impression on the side of her face.

    Finally, Ed stumbled back and away from Maria, only he kept the gun pointed in her direction when he demanded she get up from where she sat. Visibly shaken, Maria got up from her seat, when a narrow stream of piss had saturated her left pant leg while her legs uncontrollably trembled.

   Tears began to flow when she nervously asked, “Just what do you want from me? What is up with you tonight?”

   He barked a command before another word could be spewed from her lips, “Shutup Maria, go get that left over pork chop in the fridge. Make yourself fucking useful and at least cook me something. Don’t be a baby, and stop cryin’ already!”

   “Fine, fine, fine Eddie,” she replied as she knelt down to rummage through a cabinet for the one skillet they owned.

    Maria stood over the black skillet staring at the butter oozing around the thick pork chop as it sizzled and seared through the silence of the room. Merely a foot away Eddie lounged back on the dilapidated kitchen bench, only with the gun still pointed directly toward the back of her head.

     He tried to tell a joke, ironically hoping to lighten the mood, “Hey did I tell you about the joke Gus told me at work yesterday? It’s a good one, let me see if I can remember,” he paused when she interrupted, “It’s Ok, Ed let me just finish this…”

    “Oh now I remember!”, he excitedly exclaimed as he waved his gun through the air in a aimless pattern, and he continued, “So there’s this guy, he walks into a bar with a giant dildo under his arm, right? And the bartender asks…”

    Eddie continued with the joke but the words began to dissipate into nothing as each syllable which surrounded Maria melded with the deafening heartbeats that pulsed from the center of her chest and reverberated through her addled brain. She then slowly tightened both her hands around the handle of the pan, because unbeknownst to Ed, her next move was to splash hot butter clear across his face.

    Only then, when he belted out a robust obnoxious kind of howl, delighted with his own punchline, he had applied just enough pressure to the trigger, ‘Baaammmmm!’, a bullet whacked clean through the front of Maria’s skull and splattered skull and brain matter into the screaming hot frying pan below. Bloodied squiggles of brain matter danced amongst oregano and popping pork fat, when Maria’s body slumped backward and flopped near Ed’s feet.

     Anxiously he shoved the gun into his back pocket and stood to his feet grappling with locks of his thinning hair as he howled a desperate cry, “No!!! Oh man!! What the fuck! NOOOOOO!”

    Only it was real, a sobering dinner date for one had made a tragically horrific turn for the worst, without a even side dish or dessert. He panicked, he had nothing but for the 1999 Chevy Corsica that sat in his driveway with half a tank of gas and $50.00 in his wallet. That wouldn’t stop him from running though, hell, with his record he was sure to spend a lifetime in prison. So run he did, but rest assured… not far.

   The billowing smoke from the charred flesh searing in the blackened frying pan spilled from their wide open front door, which alerted their neighbor Frank who came rushing in to find the horrific scene which Ed had left behind. When the police descended with their notepads, cameras, and questions, the occupants of Bonteville Springs did not disappoint with a virtual torrent of bad tales to tell about Ed Tousley.

    Inside that stank filled home, with a thick smoke that still lingered from the seared remains of Maria’s brain, her former friends had played the judge and juror that evening and had already convicted Eddie for a crime they weren’t certain he had even committed.

    Truth be told, who could blame them? Really. After the countless “shows” he had put on at the fire pit and the many bruises and bumps Maria would futilely attempt to cover with sunglasses or makeup.  Well, he had it coming, didn’t he?

    The police were on the lookout, but I was determined, I was going to find them before they would. His Corsica was found three days later at a park and ride just outside Cranston, Rhode Island. I planned to start there, and rest assured, I will find that son of a bitch. But not to worry, I’m not horrifically unkind, I’ll make sure he gets his pork chop before I blow his brains straight through the back of his thick skull. Stay tuned, my friends, we are in for a fun ride.

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