Sleaze Land – Chapter 19 (Pumpkin Eater) Part 1

Sleaze Land – Chapter 19 (Pumpkin Eater) Part 1

“To die, to sleep -
To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,
For in this sleep of death what dreams may come...”

William Shakespeare

​“Oh, my fucking god, did you hear that?”
 
“Everyone fucking heard that, you numbnuts.”
 
“That sounded bad.”
 
“Real bad.”
 
“What do you suppose they’re doing to them up there?”
 
“They’re burning two fellas alive is what they’re doin,” Tiny told them as he walked up to the two gladiator-like-men.
 
“What the fuck?” the one called Jane asked, as his mouth pulled back in a terrified grin.  Almost as if he didn’t believe it.
 
But he’d heard the screams, and the giant rush of air, and now the crackling of a fire.
 
“You can’t do this,” the man chained next to him said.  So, Tiny put his elbow in the guy’s nose to illustrate just what he could and couldn’t do.
 
“You can’t be serious?” Jane said, as they unchained him, and began pulling him behind them, like a lost dog.
 
But neither the giant nor the Dorothy-looking-man replied.  Instead, they pulled him out into the arena where the bright light of the mid-day sun was just slightly overshadowed by the large bonfire that was still burning in the center.
 
“You can’t be serious,” the man said again, as terror flooded his eyes.
 
“Emma called, said not to use Clide, so I brung Chris, here.  Though, I guess after all em steroids he done, he now wants to be called Chrissy,” their not-exactly-human helper said.  As he forced the tall Aussie who was chained in a crouching position to run on all fours behind him.
 
“Chrissy…” Tiny said, with no small amount of disappointment.  As he’d hoped the one they called Urbane would wind up being the one to fight him.  At least that’s how he’d originally designed the two costumes.
 
However, it couldn’t be helped.  They were on a schedule.
 
So, the one dressed like Martha Stewart / Zena Warrior Princess, with the long nails, flowing locks, and the iron miniskirt was to fight the one he’d made to look like a pregnant sow.
 
Sigh…
 
For a moment Tiny struggled to think of how to arm the two men, so as to make it at least a little bit fair.
 
I mean… sure, Chris, I mean… Chrissy had huge muscles and a tight bum… but he was also running on all fours and couldn’t possibly hold a weapon.

And Jane… well, he’d been given a butt plug from hell, and had on some concrete shoes. (Cuz Tiny had wanted him to feel what it felt like… being a woman in Hollywood.)
 
“I know!  Hold off starting, for just a sec,” Tiny hollered as he threw his best friend the chain holding Jane, and then he ran off for the barracks.
 
Upon return there was a giant smile on the giant’s face.
 
“What ya got?” his small but lethal friend inquired.
 
“I’m gonna give this one two spears, taped to his arms,” he said, as he handed duct tape and two broom handles to the assistant.
 
“And this un… I’m givin a gun.”
 
“A gun?  How’s he supposed to shoot a gun when he’s running on all fours?” the small man in the smaller dress asked brightly, knowing his brilliant companion had already come up with an original solution to the problem.
 
Tiny reached over and pulled Chrissy’s skirt up, and then shoved a retrofitted air riffle right up his arse.
 
“All he has to do… is clench,” Tiny had enough time to say, just before the air rifle went off and the bullet ricocheted off of a nearby burning pallet.
 
“Cool!” the dainty man remarked brightly.  “Bitch to aim, though…” he said with a smile, as the two ran for cover before the sow-like man on all fours could get off another shot.
 
A moment later their assistant (who wasn’t exactly human either) ran into the shielded barracks behind them.
 
“Are we live?” Tiny asked of the robust woman behind the controls.
 
“We are now,” she said with a smile, and then she took a long and satisfied drag on her vape pen.
 
“Good.  Now… if they can just figure out how to fight…”
 
“Look man,” Andrew Jane said placatingly to the one-time-norse-god, “I don’t want to fight you.  Let’s just try to find a way out of here.  Ya?”
 
But the mad look in Chrissy’s eyes gave Jane zero confidence he’d been heard, let alone understood.
 
“Look, it’s not ‘Hammer! Smash!’ like in the movies.  You know that right?” the man who had two broom handles taped to each arm asked of the rifle bearing man before him.
 
“I don’t want any of this.  Let’s just…”
 
But before Jane could finish, the man who had been made to look like a pregnant sow turned and squeezed his buttocks.
 
POW!
 
Went the gun.
 
POW!  POW!!
 
Went the gun some more, as the angry sow tried again and again to kill the man he’d been instructed to kill.  Not that Chrissy really knew what he was doing, mind you.  As he’d been given a healthy dose of horse tranquilizers mixed with ayahuasca just before being brought into the arena. 
 
So, mentally the man was just fucked.
 
“I swear to god, if you shoot that ass gun of yours at me one more time I’m gonna…”
 
POW!  POW!
 
The gun sounded two more times, and apparently that was all Jane had in him.  Because a second later he was impaling the pig-like man with both of his sharpened broom handles.
 
“Pig roast, anyone?” the actor yelled, as he rushed the wounded man sideways into the burning bonfire.
 
“And cut,” he whispered, as he stood back and listened, as the little piggy squealed.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
© Raena Exe 2022
 
 
*Inspired by life.                                                                         
*All characters, places, and events are completely fictional.
*All rights reserved
 

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