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Show 13 more were sure to be coming, and the more the worse. Funster looked around his neighborhood and saw it disintegrating around his castle. He saw the streets unplowed and unpaved, lawns unmowed and houses unpainted. He saw trash in the streets. Violence. Break-ins. Rapes. Worse still, he thought his son might be hanging out with a faggot. Stinky Jinx. Not that Stinky was a bad kid. And sure as hell big Dick Jinx was all man. But he wasn't home enough. He spent too many days and nights driving around in his potato chip truck making a good living and leaving the kids too much to the wife. There was something wrong with Stinky. His voice was too high and he wore his mother's clothes too much. But Funster didn't know what to say to Jinx about it. Nobody did. The only person seeming to do anything about it at all was little Jarvis Loop who knocked the shit out of Stinky every chance he got. But Jarvis knocked the shit out of Funly too, and instead of fighting back, Funly ran to Grandma Funster and hung out with Stinky Jinx. Funster worried about Funly. He tried to remember when he, himself started shimmying up trees to xxxxaxxxxxxxxxxxaxxxx aggravate his hard-ons. About ten. He'd better get Funly that b-b gun. Get him to the woods more. But that night Funly was j/eeptrt^ out with Stinky. There were niggers on Funster's job, niggers on Funster's block, and faggots in his backyard with his son in a tent, and Funster couldn't do anything about any of it. So he loaded up his .22 rifle and stuffed it under the bed, just like he always told everybody he did but never did, till then. |