Chapter 2: Ecclesiasticus



Kim knocked on the door. No answer. She turned the knob and was enveloped in a shroud of fetid air as the door swung open. "John? Are you in here?" She stepped into the dark room. The phone rang.

John sat naked in the center of the bed with his limp penis in one hand. His other hand loosely clasped a revolver which he pointed idly at his head, his heart, the lamp, Kim, the phone, then back to his head again.

"No! John, don't!" Kim burst once again into tears.

The phone continued its monotonous ringing. John waved his gun and his penis at Kim. "Hi, Kim. You're one of the women I was hoping for."

Kim opened her coat to expose her mutilated breast. "Look at me! Look at me! Look what Rikki Rockett did to me!"

"I did? Far out. You know, women killed him."

"What do you mean `far out'?"

"Come here Kim." John motioned with the gun.

Kim stumbled toward John through fast food wrappers and empty bottles. He took her arm and pulled her onto the bed. "I've got something for you, Kim."

"Rob and Ben.." She whimpered, "They're out of control. Ben bit me. I - I need help. Help me, please."

"I'm going to help you, Kim. I'm going to help you by cumming in your mouth." John slid the gun under Kim's coat, with the barrel, eased the sleeves down her arms. He put his hand on her head and pulled it close to him. She embraced him and sobbed.

"Oh, John. I knew I could count on you. You understand me."

His hand pushed her head down. "Help me out here, Kim. It's stuck."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's stuck. It won't work. I'm the sex artist, right? It's what I do, like Ben is a genius and Rob is a good son. If I'm not a sex artist, I'm nothing. How can I be a sex artist when THIS FUCKING THING WON'T GET HARD?" The lampshade trembled with the force of John's voice. "It won't get hard. It is stuck. That's why I need you to help me, Kim. I know you can make it dance. Now, put your sweet lips around me, baby. Fuck me, suck me, bang bang." John flourished the gun meaningfully.

Kim stifled her protests. Tearfully she wrapped her lips around his penis and began to caress it with her tongue. Almost immediately, it stiffened. John picked up the defaced bible. Kim's face, wet with tears, served John's desire. He sat down the gun and wrapped his fingers in her fine blonde hair.

"Today's reading will be from the Book of Ecclesiastes. Let us pray until we spray. `Vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away and another generation cometh; but the earth abideth forever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.'" On the word 'arose,' John yanked Kim's hair, then pushed her head farther down. Kim struggled to breathe, but continued her efforts.

"`Then I said in my heart, As it happeneth to the fool, so it happeneth even to me; and why was I then more wise? Then I said in my heart that this also is vanity. For there is no remembrance of the wise more than of the fool forever; seeing that which now is in the days to come shall all be forgotten. And how dieth the wise man? As the fool. Therefore I hated life; because the work that is wrought under the sun is grievous unto me: For all is vanity and vexation of spirit.'

"All right, Kim, you can go now. It is finished."

Kim raced for the bathroom with her hands clutched over her mouth.

As she retched in the bathroom, the phone began to ring again. Kim emerged looking pale and strained. "Are you going to answer that?" she demanded. "This is very serious; not funny; not funny at all."

"Answer what?"

"The phone, John. The phone's ringing. Are you going to answer it?"

John peered at his now flaccid organ. "It's not ready."

"John! Shut up, shut up, shut up! What's all this friggin water doing here!?" Kim covered her mouth as if surprised by her own words. She quivered and said, "Looks like the paper man has already been here. John! Answer the phone, you evil son of a bitch!"

The phone rang on.

Kim walked in tight circles biting her nails and babbling. "Not funny, not funny at all. This is so gay. A vampire is not cool. They're evil sons of bitches. No good guy wins in this story and it happens every night. It will either kill you or cure you. They are all psychopaths who will work you over and push you to the limit, to death even. Before you give it a shot, remember that I tell it like it is. They don't care about you, because they're not going to die, you are. I am! Hey! I was born to be murdered! But I won't be because I'll marry you. My god! How weird. Why don't you answer the phone? Answer the damn phone, John!!!"

John scratched his head. "I'm not here right now."

"The world's gone crazy. Who can I turn to?" She whirled, grabbed her coat and suddenly remembered the steak knife in the pocket. She pulled out the knife and turned to face John.

"I'm really not here right now," John insisted.

"I'll get you..." Kim lunged at John. The knife cut deep into his side. She left it embedded there and ran out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.

The phone rang again. John winced slightly as he extracted the knife. Blood spilled onto the bed. He picked up the phone, "Hey! Rikki Rockett! Sure, I can remember that. Let me just write it here on my arm."