Post by kuntzy on Feb 26, 2021 19:38:41 GMT -5
Chicago, Illinois, brisk this time of year to say the least, but that didn’t seem to bother Johnny, as he walked through the snow drift and into Shut Up! And Drink. As soon as he enters he’s met with the sound of glass shattering and tables being turned over, as Kuntzy was absolutely tearing the place apart. Johnny straightened out his leather jacket, looking like the poster child for punk rock in the 90s with his mohawk glued up. Not seemingly too worried about what Kuntzy was doing, he hopped up on top of one of the pool tables and lit a smoke, scratching at his nostrils as he watched better half get increasingly manic.
“ Where is it?” Jacob says to himself, not noticing Johnny at all as he pushes over bar stools and flips over tables - checking every corner, every inch of the bar for something. He goes behind the counter, and shoves all the bottles to the floor with a loud shatter, whispering to himself that same question as before.
Jacob kept patting himself down, as if he was checking his pocket for whatever he was looking for, which didn’t seem likely as he wore nothing but a baby blue pair of women’s boy shorts with “ Death Merchants” printed right about where his balls are situated - a gift from CVO.
“ The fuck you lookin’ for Kuntz?"
Kuntzy looks up at Johnny, but his eyes are still scanning the room in rapid fashion. As he jumps over the bar, you get a glimpse of his bare feet, which are tore up and bleeding from the broken glass. But Kuntzy’ doesn’t seem to notice at all as he walks up to Johnny, not directly looking at him and flips the pool table - trying to look under it. Johnny catches himself before being completely thrown off and grabs Kuntzy by the shoulder. Jacob looks up to him.
“ Where the fuck! Are our titles?”
Raising an eyebrow, Johnny hesitates on replying, and when he does finally realize what's going on Kuntzy interrupts him.
“ Did you fucking pawn them!?”
“ No I didn’t fuckin’ pawn em’! We lost em’ to the death merchants you fucking tweaker. ”
The realization washes over Kuntzy, as he stumbles backwards onto the floor- taking a seat on the scattered and sticky ground .
“ Oh.”
Like a junkie with a fading thought, he slowly nods his head as he looks up at his Johnny.
“That’s right...”
Jacob’s eyes wander, bringing his knees up to his chest as he whispers underneath his breath.
“Fucking retards. “
Once again sniffing at the air, scratching underneath his nostrils, Johnny walks forward, placing two hands under Kuntzy’s arms and lifting him up to his feet in the way you would a child. Vachon wipes the glass off of Kuntzy’s ass and wraps his arm around his neck.
“ Come with me babe, I got something to show you. “
Kuntzy was a little bit disorganized, his head still swirling as he slowly came too from his delusional state. “ You got that shit boo boo?” stumbles out of his lips as Johnny leads him to the door.
“ Always got you babe, Always got you. “
Johnny repeats himself, sounding smug, but it comforted Kuntzy - the pair heading out the door before reemerging at their location, Johnny’s arm no longer around Kuntzy.
The snow was heavy on Eastern Boulevard, not THE Eastern Boulevard, the one that MDK reps… But A Eastern Boulevard, and that was good enough for the junkies.
Johnny points up to the sign as Kuntzy gawks at it, seemingly in awe as his entire body shivered, still dressed in nothing but panties. Off in the distance you can see the true ends of Johnny’s handiwork, as the entire block had been torn up. Trash cans knocked over, buildings spray painted with GHB markings, hell even the road and sidewalks bore the stains of Genocidal Hate Brigade. .
“ You did this? “ Kuntzy says, an almost Christmas like glee in his voice as he looks at Johnny. Johnny grins from ear to ear as he places his hand on Kuntzy’s shoulder.
” They say they’re selling’ death, yet all they’ve served is a pathetic beatdown. We are fuckin’ anarchy! We are the Murder Junkies! And we will show them what death really looks like! ”
Kuntzy giggles, taking a step forward onto the block, Johnny lets his hand slide down Kuntzy’s back.
“ They should be called the Meth Merchants, because they’ll break your fuckin’ teeth and give you one hell of a high. “
His voice was distracted, still beaming from the carnage in front of him. Sniffling from the cold and the cocaine, Kuntzy looks over his shoulder at Johnny.
“ But Death? Talk about a far fucking cry from what we went through at their hands.”
The cold didn’t help Johnny’s chain smoking, as he had already lit up another cigarette by the time Kuntzy had finished his sentence. He looks up at Kuntzy and nods his head in agreeance, his lips sneering as he let the narcotic prophet preach his gospel. Turning his head back towards the defilement in front of him Kuntzy starts to skip forward, talking to Johnny as he observed his handiwork.
“ Matty poo reps this block so fucking hard, he’ll probably pretty mad at you Johnny… And Santana? Well he’s just always mad isn’t he? Like a fuckin’ rabid pitbull that heard too many loud noises and now is just broken, screaming and lashing out at anything and everything. It’s no wonder he follows MDK around like a good little boy, they call it mutual respect…. I think it’s just Matt doing what comes natural to him.
Get a dog.
Make it fight.
Profit. ‘“
Losing the drag off his cigarette, and choking while he chuckles - Johnny interrupts.
“ Fuckin! GOT EM! “
You can see Kuntzy’s tongue playfully peak out from the corner of his mouth as he stops skipping. He turns around in a swift fashion so that he’s facing Johnny, the icy roads making him look more graceful than he actually was.
“ They’ll tell you themselves, Johnny my boy! They only care about getting paid! They’re in it for the paycheck, for them dolla’ dolla’ bills! Ya feel me? And that’s why me and you are going to the never ending cock, buried deep inside their assholes! Because Death Merchants Vs. Murder Junkies? That’ll sell every fucking time! So no matter how much they beat us down, no matter how hard they stroke our cocks and smash us into fuckin’ mat - we will keep coming back! Why?”
Pausing Kuntzy lets the tension build, letting Johnny get real anticipated like. Vachon leans forward, getting closer to Kuntzy so he makes sure he really hears what he’s about to say. And with a shit-eating grin, the words finally leave Kuntzy’s lips.
“ Because they sold us a faulty product… They fucked us Johnny… They sold us!... A promise… One they have yet to deliver on!”
Johnny takes a seat on a broken wooden bench, letting the cigarette hang between his fingers. He lets the smooth smoke seep through his lips as rattles the used up spray paint cans at his feet.
“Do we force them? Push them to the limit to deliver on their pitch? It’s like a bear in a cage and us holding a stick. We poke and poke hoping to get the bear to make his move. A claw to the throat, a bite of flesh, yet we poke and poke just to realize that the bear in the cage… is stuffed.”
Johnny chuckles as he flicks the ash off of the cigarette. He grabs a can of spray paint and flips the cap off before continuing to spray across the bench. His back towards Kuntzy, who reciprocated the same enthusiasm that Johnny had given him, trying to peek over his shoulder and get a glimpse at what he was doing.
“Sure, they took our belts and walked away with the win, but that’s not what we’re after. We’re the motherfuckin’ Murder Junkies! It’s not about wins and losses or Championship belts! It’s about the violence! The anarchy! The chaos! And when we had the belts we were a target. A target for punishment. And boy did we love that.”
Johnny takes a step back from the bench where we see he sprayed a shitty version of the Murder Junkies name. He smiles as Kuntzy prances over and squeals like a pig in amusement.. Throwing his arm over Kuntzy’s shoulder, the pair stand and admire his art.
“We’ve got to make them honest men Kuntzy. We’ve got to push them to that edge. And then we’ve got to Spartan kick them down to the dirt.”
“ AND FUCK! THEM! RAAAW!”
The primordial shriek that just escaped Kuntzy’s mouth surprises both men, making Johnny jump and eye Jacob like he was possessed by the devil. Kuntzy holds his hands over his mouth as he begins chuckling, his eyes still focused on the bench. From behind hands, in between the squeaks of laughter, he tries to explain himself.
“ I’m just sayin’! I heard Matt’s mom used to a prostitute on this very block! I’m sure she would know all about a good old fashion raw fuck! “
Like a hyperactive child with an idea, Kuntzy spins around and walks past Johnny - into the street. It’s their that he yells out.
“ HEY MDK’S SLUT FUCKING MOTHER! ARE YOU HERE? ARE YOU FUCKING HERE? ME AND JOHNNY GOT FIVE DOLLARS EACH AND WE’RE READY FOR THE FAMOUS METHROW GUMMY SPECIAL!”
Kuntzy has his hands clasped around his lips, so that his voice travels - it echoes out throughout the desecrated eastern boulevard. He then puts one hand up to his ear, listening for any sort of reply, but all he gets is the sound of scattering off one of the many alleyways. Turning back to Johnny, he shrugs a helpless shrug before scratching at his neck. With dry nostrils he sniffs the air, his skin a beet red from the elements, his eyes get a little scattered as he walks towards Johnny, still scratching.
“ Gimmie a bump daddy. “
Flicking his cigarette to the ground Johnny laughs, of course Kuntzy didn’t have any drugs on him, he was practically naked. Reaching into his vest pocket he pulls out a small, bulging baggy of white powder. Then in one swift motion, he snatches the switchblade from his waist and flicks it out - driving the tip into the top of the baggy and pulling out a nice bump. Johnny holds it out for Kuntzy, who sniffs that shit down like he was in recovery.
Showing off his squirreliness, Kuntzy grabs the knife from Johnny and steps away from him, swirling the blade in his palm, playing with it as he spoke.
“ They’re not very sharp, the death merchants… Which isn’t a very good personality to have when in sales. Because then you’ll always be stuck as the salesmen… You’ll never move up the corporate ladder, they’ll never be Death CEO’s or even head of sales… They’ll always just be the salesmen, and they can’t even fucking do that! “
Flinging the knife to the ground, it skids across the ice to the other side of the road, only stopping as it hit the curb. Kuntzy looks back to Johnny, with a look on his face that read, “Whoospie”
“ I got it! Follow me Johnny, let’s walk and talk.”
He says confidently, like the other side of the road just wasn’t a few feet away. Nevertheless, Johnny follows Jacob’s lead.
“ I said before, that Death Merchants are an immovable object, made of concrete and nails - they are as tough as they come. And we, The Death Merchants, GHB, are an unstoppable force - bulldozing anything and everything that gets it our way. Leaving a trail of bodies and bodily fluid in our wake! And when we clashed it was forceful! And they got the better of it, but we never stopped moving… Did we Johnny? “
Johnny knows that this was a rhetorical question, so he just shook his head as Kuntzy bent down and grabbed the switchblade, his asscrack showing.
“ No, we kept moving, spat in their fucking faces! Beat the shit out of Mina for fucking up! We penetrated through that immovable object, more so than they realize. We injected ourselves, we forced our way inside of them! The grand canyon wasn’t built in a day, no it was decades upon decades of an unstoppable wind carving away at it! And if that’s what it takes to make The Death Merchants keep their promise to us? To be the winds of shit to Death Merchants gaping canyon? Then so be it! We got time Johnny! We got time! “
The switchblade now firmly back in his hand, Kuntzy looks up, noticing the mural that Johnny had spray painted on the building before him. Vachon sees this and smirks, figuring Kuntzy would like this one. On the side of the brown bricked wall, spray painted in white are two stick figures, one is bent over with an arrow pointed to it and “SANFAGA” written above it. The other stickman is buttfucking the first, with an identical arrow and the name “BITCHROW”.
Stepping up next to Kuntzy, Johnny has another cigarette in-between his lips, where the fuck does he keep getting those? He takes a few drags off of it before passing it to Kuntzy, who takes it without taking his eyes off the wall. Johnny then steps forward, turning around and pressing his back up against the wall, looking about as punk as punk gets.
“You know, now that I think of it, me and Bitchrow have something in common. The whole mother’s a prostitute gig is my story too. Moms raised me the same she probably raised Bitchrow. Learning to scam and hustle our way through life. Fits him well seeing as they scamming us right now.”
Huffing as he turning his bug eyed gaze to the ground.
“He promised us death and then failed to deliver. His Moms would be pretty happy with em, wouldn’t she? So what are we to do? Do we let them walk away with our prize after they left us with blue balls? Or do we treat em like Matty’s Moms? You been saying it over and over. We treat em just like Momma Bitchrow and we bend Death Merchants over and fuck em’ dry until they squeal our names! Until we prolapse em and force em to turn around and deliver! And when they do, we can finally get that sweet release.”
Johnny squeezes his hands together and makes a wet squirting noise before sighing loudly. Kuntzy licks his lips as he hands the cigarette back to Johnny who pops it in his mouth with a grin.
“We’re looking for the ultimate fix. I’ve felt death on my lips and came back to tell the tale. What they’re selling is snake oil.”
Clapping his hands together rather loudly, Kuntzy gives Johnny the round of applause he deserves.
“ So it’s settled then! We fuck them to death, we insert ourselves over and over and over again until they’re nothing but a stain… We’ll force ourselves so deep inside that they won’t know where the Murder Junkies begin and the Death Merchants end. Like a stench you can’t wash out, permanent and permeating. Seeping into ever orifice, drowning them in us, forcing them to do the only logical thing…”
His eyes Darken as he lowers his head, a few strands of greasy hair dangling in front of his face.
“ To keep their promise… They’ll have to kill themselves.”
It looked as if Kuntzy was about to say something else, when out of the corner of his eyes he sees movement. Jerking his head to the side he sees a woman, dressed in typical raggedy prostitute attire. As she approaches them, he peers at Johnny from the corner of his eyes - a sickening grin twirling at the edge of his lips.
“ Mrs. King? “
The prostitute smacks her gums, planting her oversized heel in the sidewalk.
“ I’ll be whoever you wanna’ be baby. “
He whips his head back to Johnny.
“ I KNEW WE’D FIND HER ”
Johnny pulls out his baggy of cocke and dangles it in front of his face, making sure the woman gets a good look at it.
“ Oh see, you tryin’ to party huh? You got a place?”
” I’ve got an alley”
He says pointing to the alleyway directly behind the building Johnny was leaned up against.
“ Works for me. “
Johnny looks a little bit hesitant at first, but once Kuntzy starts tugging at the collar of his vest, he gives in. As the trio disappear behind the alley, to do god knows what. Only one thing was for sure.
Matt King’s mother is a total fucking slut.
“ Where is it?” Jacob says to himself, not noticing Johnny at all as he pushes over bar stools and flips over tables - checking every corner, every inch of the bar for something. He goes behind the counter, and shoves all the bottles to the floor with a loud shatter, whispering to himself that same question as before.
Jacob kept patting himself down, as if he was checking his pocket for whatever he was looking for, which didn’t seem likely as he wore nothing but a baby blue pair of women’s boy shorts with “ Death Merchants” printed right about where his balls are situated - a gift from CVO.
“ The fuck you lookin’ for Kuntz?"
Kuntzy looks up at Johnny, but his eyes are still scanning the room in rapid fashion. As he jumps over the bar, you get a glimpse of his bare feet, which are tore up and bleeding from the broken glass. But Kuntzy’ doesn’t seem to notice at all as he walks up to Johnny, not directly looking at him and flips the pool table - trying to look under it. Johnny catches himself before being completely thrown off and grabs Kuntzy by the shoulder. Jacob looks up to him.
“ Where the fuck! Are our titles?”
Raising an eyebrow, Johnny hesitates on replying, and when he does finally realize what's going on Kuntzy interrupts him.
“ Did you fucking pawn them!?”
“ No I didn’t fuckin’ pawn em’! We lost em’ to the death merchants you fucking tweaker. ”
The realization washes over Kuntzy, as he stumbles backwards onto the floor- taking a seat on the scattered and sticky ground .
“ Oh.”
Like a junkie with a fading thought, he slowly nods his head as he looks up at his Johnny.
“That’s right...”
Jacob’s eyes wander, bringing his knees up to his chest as he whispers underneath his breath.
“Fucking retards. “
Once again sniffing at the air, scratching underneath his nostrils, Johnny walks forward, placing two hands under Kuntzy’s arms and lifting him up to his feet in the way you would a child. Vachon wipes the glass off of Kuntzy’s ass and wraps his arm around his neck.
“ Come with me babe, I got something to show you. “
Kuntzy was a little bit disorganized, his head still swirling as he slowly came too from his delusional state. “ You got that shit boo boo?” stumbles out of his lips as Johnny leads him to the door.
“ Always got you babe, Always got you. “
Johnny repeats himself, sounding smug, but it comforted Kuntzy - the pair heading out the door before reemerging at their location, Johnny’s arm no longer around Kuntzy.
The snow was heavy on Eastern Boulevard, not THE Eastern Boulevard, the one that MDK reps… But A Eastern Boulevard, and that was good enough for the junkies.
Johnny points up to the sign as Kuntzy gawks at it, seemingly in awe as his entire body shivered, still dressed in nothing but panties. Off in the distance you can see the true ends of Johnny’s handiwork, as the entire block had been torn up. Trash cans knocked over, buildings spray painted with GHB markings, hell even the road and sidewalks bore the stains of Genocidal Hate Brigade. .
“ You did this? “ Kuntzy says, an almost Christmas like glee in his voice as he looks at Johnny. Johnny grins from ear to ear as he places his hand on Kuntzy’s shoulder.
” They say they’re selling’ death, yet all they’ve served is a pathetic beatdown. We are fuckin’ anarchy! We are the Murder Junkies! And we will show them what death really looks like! ”
Kuntzy giggles, taking a step forward onto the block, Johnny lets his hand slide down Kuntzy’s back.
“ They should be called the Meth Merchants, because they’ll break your fuckin’ teeth and give you one hell of a high. “
His voice was distracted, still beaming from the carnage in front of him. Sniffling from the cold and the cocaine, Kuntzy looks over his shoulder at Johnny.
“ But Death? Talk about a far fucking cry from what we went through at their hands.”
The cold didn’t help Johnny’s chain smoking, as he had already lit up another cigarette by the time Kuntzy had finished his sentence. He looks up at Kuntzy and nods his head in agreeance, his lips sneering as he let the narcotic prophet preach his gospel. Turning his head back towards the defilement in front of him Kuntzy starts to skip forward, talking to Johnny as he observed his handiwork.
“ Matty poo reps this block so fucking hard, he’ll probably pretty mad at you Johnny… And Santana? Well he’s just always mad isn’t he? Like a fuckin’ rabid pitbull that heard too many loud noises and now is just broken, screaming and lashing out at anything and everything. It’s no wonder he follows MDK around like a good little boy, they call it mutual respect…. I think it’s just Matt doing what comes natural to him.
Get a dog.
Make it fight.
Profit. ‘“
Losing the drag off his cigarette, and choking while he chuckles - Johnny interrupts.
“ Fuckin! GOT EM! “
You can see Kuntzy’s tongue playfully peak out from the corner of his mouth as he stops skipping. He turns around in a swift fashion so that he’s facing Johnny, the icy roads making him look more graceful than he actually was.
“ They’ll tell you themselves, Johnny my boy! They only care about getting paid! They’re in it for the paycheck, for them dolla’ dolla’ bills! Ya feel me? And that’s why me and you are going to the never ending cock, buried deep inside their assholes! Because Death Merchants Vs. Murder Junkies? That’ll sell every fucking time! So no matter how much they beat us down, no matter how hard they stroke our cocks and smash us into fuckin’ mat - we will keep coming back! Why?”
Pausing Kuntzy lets the tension build, letting Johnny get real anticipated like. Vachon leans forward, getting closer to Kuntzy so he makes sure he really hears what he’s about to say. And with a shit-eating grin, the words finally leave Kuntzy’s lips.
“ Because they sold us a faulty product… They fucked us Johnny… They sold us!... A promise… One they have yet to deliver on!”
Johnny takes a seat on a broken wooden bench, letting the cigarette hang between his fingers. He lets the smooth smoke seep through his lips as rattles the used up spray paint cans at his feet.
“Do we force them? Push them to the limit to deliver on their pitch? It’s like a bear in a cage and us holding a stick. We poke and poke hoping to get the bear to make his move. A claw to the throat, a bite of flesh, yet we poke and poke just to realize that the bear in the cage… is stuffed.”
Johnny chuckles as he flicks the ash off of the cigarette. He grabs a can of spray paint and flips the cap off before continuing to spray across the bench. His back towards Kuntzy, who reciprocated the same enthusiasm that Johnny had given him, trying to peek over his shoulder and get a glimpse at what he was doing.
“Sure, they took our belts and walked away with the win, but that’s not what we’re after. We’re the motherfuckin’ Murder Junkies! It’s not about wins and losses or Championship belts! It’s about the violence! The anarchy! The chaos! And when we had the belts we were a target. A target for punishment. And boy did we love that.”
Johnny takes a step back from the bench where we see he sprayed a shitty version of the Murder Junkies name. He smiles as Kuntzy prances over and squeals like a pig in amusement.. Throwing his arm over Kuntzy’s shoulder, the pair stand and admire his art.
“We’ve got to make them honest men Kuntzy. We’ve got to push them to that edge. And then we’ve got to Spartan kick them down to the dirt.”
“ AND FUCK! THEM! RAAAW!”
The primordial shriek that just escaped Kuntzy’s mouth surprises both men, making Johnny jump and eye Jacob like he was possessed by the devil. Kuntzy holds his hands over his mouth as he begins chuckling, his eyes still focused on the bench. From behind hands, in between the squeaks of laughter, he tries to explain himself.
“ I’m just sayin’! I heard Matt’s mom used to a prostitute on this very block! I’m sure she would know all about a good old fashion raw fuck! “
Like a hyperactive child with an idea, Kuntzy spins around and walks past Johnny - into the street. It’s their that he yells out.
“ HEY MDK’S SLUT FUCKING MOTHER! ARE YOU HERE? ARE YOU FUCKING HERE? ME AND JOHNNY GOT FIVE DOLLARS EACH AND WE’RE READY FOR THE FAMOUS METHROW GUMMY SPECIAL!”
Kuntzy has his hands clasped around his lips, so that his voice travels - it echoes out throughout the desecrated eastern boulevard. He then puts one hand up to his ear, listening for any sort of reply, but all he gets is the sound of scattering off one of the many alleyways. Turning back to Johnny, he shrugs a helpless shrug before scratching at his neck. With dry nostrils he sniffs the air, his skin a beet red from the elements, his eyes get a little scattered as he walks towards Johnny, still scratching.
“ Gimmie a bump daddy. “
Flicking his cigarette to the ground Johnny laughs, of course Kuntzy didn’t have any drugs on him, he was practically naked. Reaching into his vest pocket he pulls out a small, bulging baggy of white powder. Then in one swift motion, he snatches the switchblade from his waist and flicks it out - driving the tip into the top of the baggy and pulling out a nice bump. Johnny holds it out for Kuntzy, who sniffs that shit down like he was in recovery.
Showing off his squirreliness, Kuntzy grabs the knife from Johnny and steps away from him, swirling the blade in his palm, playing with it as he spoke.
“ They’re not very sharp, the death merchants… Which isn’t a very good personality to have when in sales. Because then you’ll always be stuck as the salesmen… You’ll never move up the corporate ladder, they’ll never be Death CEO’s or even head of sales… They’ll always just be the salesmen, and they can’t even fucking do that! “
Flinging the knife to the ground, it skids across the ice to the other side of the road, only stopping as it hit the curb. Kuntzy looks back to Johnny, with a look on his face that read, “Whoospie”
“ I got it! Follow me Johnny, let’s walk and talk.”
He says confidently, like the other side of the road just wasn’t a few feet away. Nevertheless, Johnny follows Jacob’s lead.
“ I said before, that Death Merchants are an immovable object, made of concrete and nails - they are as tough as they come. And we, The Death Merchants, GHB, are an unstoppable force - bulldozing anything and everything that gets it our way. Leaving a trail of bodies and bodily fluid in our wake! And when we clashed it was forceful! And they got the better of it, but we never stopped moving… Did we Johnny? “
Johnny knows that this was a rhetorical question, so he just shook his head as Kuntzy bent down and grabbed the switchblade, his asscrack showing.
“ No, we kept moving, spat in their fucking faces! Beat the shit out of Mina for fucking up! We penetrated through that immovable object, more so than they realize. We injected ourselves, we forced our way inside of them! The grand canyon wasn’t built in a day, no it was decades upon decades of an unstoppable wind carving away at it! And if that’s what it takes to make The Death Merchants keep their promise to us? To be the winds of shit to Death Merchants gaping canyon? Then so be it! We got time Johnny! We got time! “
The switchblade now firmly back in his hand, Kuntzy looks up, noticing the mural that Johnny had spray painted on the building before him. Vachon sees this and smirks, figuring Kuntzy would like this one. On the side of the brown bricked wall, spray painted in white are two stick figures, one is bent over with an arrow pointed to it and “SANFAGA” written above it. The other stickman is buttfucking the first, with an identical arrow and the name “BITCHROW”.
Stepping up next to Kuntzy, Johnny has another cigarette in-between his lips, where the fuck does he keep getting those? He takes a few drags off of it before passing it to Kuntzy, who takes it without taking his eyes off the wall. Johnny then steps forward, turning around and pressing his back up against the wall, looking about as punk as punk gets.
“You know, now that I think of it, me and Bitchrow have something in common. The whole mother’s a prostitute gig is my story too. Moms raised me the same she probably raised Bitchrow. Learning to scam and hustle our way through life. Fits him well seeing as they scamming us right now.”
Huffing as he turning his bug eyed gaze to the ground.
“He promised us death and then failed to deliver. His Moms would be pretty happy with em, wouldn’t she? So what are we to do? Do we let them walk away with our prize after they left us with blue balls? Or do we treat em like Matty’s Moms? You been saying it over and over. We treat em just like Momma Bitchrow and we bend Death Merchants over and fuck em’ dry until they squeal our names! Until we prolapse em and force em to turn around and deliver! And when they do, we can finally get that sweet release.”
Johnny squeezes his hands together and makes a wet squirting noise before sighing loudly. Kuntzy licks his lips as he hands the cigarette back to Johnny who pops it in his mouth with a grin.
“We’re looking for the ultimate fix. I’ve felt death on my lips and came back to tell the tale. What they’re selling is snake oil.”
Clapping his hands together rather loudly, Kuntzy gives Johnny the round of applause he deserves.
“ So it’s settled then! We fuck them to death, we insert ourselves over and over and over again until they’re nothing but a stain… We’ll force ourselves so deep inside that they won’t know where the Murder Junkies begin and the Death Merchants end. Like a stench you can’t wash out, permanent and permeating. Seeping into ever orifice, drowning them in us, forcing them to do the only logical thing…”
His eyes Darken as he lowers his head, a few strands of greasy hair dangling in front of his face.
“ To keep their promise… They’ll have to kill themselves.”
It looked as if Kuntzy was about to say something else, when out of the corner of his eyes he sees movement. Jerking his head to the side he sees a woman, dressed in typical raggedy prostitute attire. As she approaches them, he peers at Johnny from the corner of his eyes - a sickening grin twirling at the edge of his lips.
“ Mrs. King? “
The prostitute smacks her gums, planting her oversized heel in the sidewalk.
“ I’ll be whoever you wanna’ be baby. “
He whips his head back to Johnny.
“ I KNEW WE’D FIND HER ”
Johnny pulls out his baggy of cocke and dangles it in front of his face, making sure the woman gets a good look at it.
“ Oh see, you tryin’ to party huh? You got a place?”
” I’ve got an alley”
He says pointing to the alleyway directly behind the building Johnny was leaned up against.
“ Works for me. “
Johnny looks a little bit hesitant at first, but once Kuntzy starts tugging at the collar of his vest, he gives in. As the trio disappear behind the alley, to do god knows what. Only one thing was for sure.
Matt King’s mother is a total fucking slut.