“Who’s your daddy, who’s your daddy?” cackled Findley as the battered old Honda clattered out onto Rockville Pike, its drooping muffler scattering sparks on the road like so many shooting stars. “What the hell you gotta do that for, crazy fool!”, screamed Barlow, his fists beating down on the steering wheel. “Crazy fuck!, man you’re nuts! We were outta there, no trouble, and you gotta start waving that piece around. Shit! Shit! Shit! Finn, you killed that guy!”
In the back seat, Daryll looked forlornly into his lap, at the handful of crumpled dollars and dirty change. “Think we’ve got about forty, fifty bucks here. Not even enough to get a good buzz on. Damn Finn, what were you thinking, man? I didn’t even get a chance to finish my coffee!”
Alton Lee Findley smiled, and caressed the little silver Smith & Wesson Chief’s Special with his lips. At six feet three inches tall, and rail thin, he was ruggedly handsome behind pale, grey eyes, but it was his lips that made the girls swoon and held their attention. He had those Mick Jagger, Steven Tyler rock star lips, full and sensuous, but, truth be told, they were just too feminine, too soft, and despite the advantages they seem to provide him in picking up the ladies, he was keenly self-conscious of their distinctly womanly appearance.”Shit!”, he cried. The barrel of the Chief was still hot.
Alton had never been the brightest light in the chandelier, but he had always just managed to squeak thru life on his charm, his mommy’s money and his good looks, girly lips not withstanding. It was his mercurial temper and manic highs that so often landed him in trouble, but this was a new low, even for him. “Did you see the way his head, just kinda, blew away, know what I mean? Scrambled eggs and brains! What a hoot! I almost blew my wad, know what I mean?”
From the back of the Honda came a ragged, retching as Daryll threw up into an empty bag of Oreos.”Sorry man, sorry.”, he sighed. “Jeeze, I was supposed to be at work an hour ago. Finn, you got us in some deep shit, dude! What are we gonna do? What am I gonna tell Joanna?”
Alton Lee Findley smiled his widest, most womanly smile, the white of his pearlescent, perfect teeth glistening in the dashboard lights.
“Drive”, he said.
“Drive”, he said.


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