The papers call it anal probing instead of sodomy. It's almost
funny. I guess if you call sticking your dick in the ass of an animal
anal probing, then it's anal probing. It's become more
of a rite of passage now, I guess. Instead of cow tipping or a circle
jerk, it's anal probing. In my father's day, it was drinking
and abduction. They'd strip their captive down, and drop them
in a humiliating pose against a tree in the middle of nowhere. Come
on, it's funny.
My first time was anything but funny. It only took three or four
drinks for the subject to come up.
"Bishop, come on."
"We just got here, man." I was talking to Brea Mason
and I could tell I was getting somewhere, not that it took much
to get somewhere with Brea.
"Bishop."
I excused myself and turned toward my asshole friend. An evil smile
crossed my face and I talked through my teeth.
"Listen, P. I'm finally getting my shot at Brea. You
fuck that up..."
I was abruptly interrupted, "Bishop, come on, man."
 P.
smiled and grabbed me across the shoulders. I turned in his hold
and threw my arms up in the air in Brea's direction. She smiled
and waved good-bye smiling slightly at my misfortune, which I knew
would turn into some other sap's good luck. On our way through the
crowd to the door, we picked up two more friends that smiled and
giggled as they pushed me towards P.'s Cruiser. We piled in, lit
up a bowl, and were off before I could even mount a protest.
"Man, people are stupid," P. announced as he drove.
I slouched in my seat so I could see nothing but the stars whizzing
by overhead.
"No shit," laughed Larry passing the pipe and choking
simultaneously.
"Bishop, what do you think, man?"
"What?"
"People...?"
I smiled and laughed at the question knowing full well that P.
was trying to get me ranting. Ever since the first time we'd
gotten high, he'd love to get me going.
"There's been a decline, that's for sure."
P. and the others chuckled through tight lips.
"It's simple genetics, really. You can't have
your intelligentsia controlling their portion of the population,
while the unwashed masses are dropping out kids as often as they
bathe. Sooner or later, the gene pool becomes the gene puddle."
Les popped a beer and handed to the front adding, "Fucking
a-right."
"And, the intelligentsia is too caught up in patting themselves
on the back to do anything about it. They just shake their head
and move to a new neighborhood where the problem doesn't stare
them in the face every morning. It's sad, really. A perfectly
good civilization eating itself." My wise-guy chuckle, a steady
pause as it sunk in, then laughter as it registered.
Les leaned up and slapped me on the shoulder, "But, they
got good drugs, man."
"Ask the moron how he got that way, and he'll show
you."
P. laughed as I tipped the beer back to get the last few solid
drinks, "How the fuck did you get that way, Bishop?"
The world as we knew it disappeared in the next few seconds of
laughter. We just looked at one another, gasped for air every few
seconds, and laughed. Eyes watered. But just as fast as the laughter
erupted, it quieted. We all settled into our seats and stared at
the sky as it streaked by. Every few minutes the silence would be
broken by the hush of a beer opening, but no one flinched. The white
streaks in the sky became increasingly blurry, until all eyes were
closed.
The Cruiser slid on to the dirt road and stopped instantaneously.
The lights pushed the dirt into the sky around the Cruiser. The
dust settled. P. tapped me on the shoulder and pointed through the
window.
"There."
The truck looked abandoned at first. Then, it started to sway.
The windows were starting to fog as we slipped out of the Cruiser
and slithered up to the truck. We struggled for position around
the baby-blue Ford. The paint almost glowed in the moonlight.
A piercing scream came from P.'s side of the truck. The door
closest to me swung open. Before the boy could whisper a syllable,
Larry had him slammed against the rear quarter panel. My body cringed.
The girl kept screaming. I saw a frightened tear run down the face
of the boy. He mumbled slightly.
"Bishop, come on!"
The girl had slipped from P.'s grasp, and he needed help
retrieving her.
"Go ahead, I've got this one." Larry smiled.
I could hear the rip of the boy's pants as Larry commenced
with anal probe.
By the time I caught up to P. and Les, P. was sitting on top of
the girl. He toyed with her, pulling at her hair and pinching her
sides, laughing the whole time. As soon as he heard me coming, he
pulled her up off the ground and forced her over a fallen tree.
"This one's yours, Bishop." P. let out a raspy,
exhausted laugh.
I stood, petrified.
"What the fuck is your problem, man? Do you know how good-looking
she is? Oh, of course you don't. You've got nothing
to compare her to."
Now, it was P.'s turn to rant. His eyes turned black, and
lost their mischievous shine. His lips tightened and his face tensed.
He continued his rampage until I reached for the girl's skirt.
Then, silence. Well, not exactly silence. I could hear the water
rushing in the nearby creek. I felt a bead of sweat finally dive
from the top of my head to my brow, and the slimy pressure of the
anal probe.
After what seemed like an eternity, my body spasmed knocking my
legs out from underneath me. P. caught me. He laughed and made a
comment, but I was deaf. P. put his arm around my shoulders and
started pulling me back to the Cruiser. He slapped my chest a few
times. I could see he was enjoying a hearty laugh, but I could hear
nothing except the rushing of the creek. I looked back at the girl
only to see Les carrying her back towards her truck.
Larry was easing the door of the truck shut as we passed him. Then,
he helped Les place the girl. They both looked asleep.
"Damn straight they're asleep. And when we're
gone, they'll be right back doing what they were doing when
we showed up."
P. could see I was a little confused.
He leaned in close to make it clear. "That girl's going
to think that guy is the best lover she's ever had. Because
as far as they know, they've been fucking for the last three
hours."
I wished that what P. was saying would make me feel less dirty,
less wrong. P. looked at me and laughed trying to get me to do the
same. My skin crawled underneath his arm. But, I did nothing. I
slipped back into the Cruiser, grabbed for a beer and the pipe,
and slouched back down in my seat for the ride home. P. whistled
for the other two to finish up. Les and Larry were laughing as they
jumped back into the Cruiser, but were quiet as soon as they realized
the mood had soured. The only break in the silence was the Cruiser
as it shot off the dusty road into the sky. |
