Nail Clippers, Pages 11 & 12



“You can’t. I know you can’t,” Chaz said, voice cracking each time he said can’t.

“I will bet you twenty dollars I can,” Devon retorted, superiority dripping from each word.

Chaz turned away from the television, pointed at Devin with his mayonnaise-smeared controller, “Twenty dollars?”

“Yep,” Devin replied wearing a smug look.

Chaz turned back to the television, he whined, “Damnit, I died.

On screen, Chaz’s character lay dead among a pile of zombies. Tossing his controller onto a table, Chaz stood up and grabbed his ass. Finding only skin he looked embarrassed.

“Deal,” Chaz said while glancing around the room for his wallet, “You swallow that sausage whole and you get twenty.”

Devin, his superior smile plastered across his face, picked up the sausage.

“Wait a minute,” Chaz interrupted, “Swallowing the whole sausage is too easy for you.” Chaz finished with a smirk and waggling his junk in Devin’s direction.

“Fuck you,” Devin retorted. “What do you have in mind?”


Arms loaded with bags, back feeling their weight, Old Man Jenkins returned home. Barbossa, ignorant or non-caring of the load Jenkins carried wrapped herself around his legs as soon as the front door opened.


“What have they done this time?” Jenkins asked.

A length entangled leg rub later Barbossa trotted off to the kitchen. Looking over her shoulder to see if Jenkins followed. Setting the heavy bags down by the door, Jenkins kicked off his shoes and followed. He hoped Barbossa was hungry and nothing more, but her tone said otherwise.

Standing in the kitchen doorway, Jenkins shouted, “What in the HELL!”

“Meow,” Barbossa concurred from a countertop.

“I think Devin needs a doctor,” Chaz said from the floor, his voice cracking on the words Devin and doctor.

Bent over the kitchen table, Devin looked in pain, number ten on the pain chart, his hands were white knuckled gripping the edges. A column of smoke drifted from Devin’s ass to the ceiling. His pale white ass red and shiny coated in something-Jenkins assumed mayonnaise. Chaz lay on the floor, his face blacked with soot and meat. Pieces of meat covered the wall behind Chaz.



One thought on “Nail Clippers, Pages 11 & 12

  1. Pingback: Nail Clippers, Pages 13 & 14 – Speaking Out On Life

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