The Most Beautiful Woman in Town by Charles Bukowski Page A

at my tits all night, so I can’t even sleep! while you can’t even raise a decent hard! you’re disgusting!”
    â€œVAS?”
    â€œI SAID, ‘YOU CAN’T EVEN RAISE A DECENT HARD!’ ”
    â€œyou, Tanya, will pay for this! you are my creation, I am not yours!”
    he kept turning his magic knobs. I mean, on the machine. he was quite angry, and you could see that, somehow, the anger gave him a vital brilliance beyond himself. “just wait, Mike. all I have to do is to adjust the electronics! wait! A short! I see it!”
    then he leaped up. this guy they had saved from the Russians.
    he looked at Indian Mike. “it’s straight now! the machine is in order! have fun!”
    then he walked over to his schnapps bottle, poured another goody, sat down to watch.
    Tanya got off of my lap and walked over to Indian Mike. I watched Tanya and Indian Mike embrace.
    Tanya worked Indian Mike’s zipper down, got his cock out, and man he had plenty of cock! he’d said 14 inches but it looked more like 20.
    then Tanya put both her hands around Mike’s cock.
    he moaned in glory.
    then she ripped the whole cock right out of and off of his body. threw it to the side.
    I saw the thing roll along the rug like an insane sausage, dribbling little sad trailets of blood. it rolled up against a wall. then stayed there like something with a head but no legs and no place to go . .. which was true enough.
    next, here came the BALLS flying through the air. a heavy, looping sight. they simply landed upon the center of the rug and didn’t know what to do but bleed.
    so, they bled.
    Von Brashlitz, the hero of the America-Russ invasion took a hard look at what was left of Indian Mike, my old beer-drinking buddy, very red on the floor, flowing from the center — Von B. took the highroad, down the stairway …
    room 69 had done everything but that.
    and then I asked her: “Tanya, the heat will be here very quickly. shall we dedicate the room number to our love?”
    â€œof course, my love!”
    we made it, just in time, and the stupid heat ran in.
    one of the learned then pronounced Indian Mike dead.
    and since Von B. was a kind of U.S. Govt. product, there was a hell of a lot of people around — various chickenshit officials — firemen, reporters, the cops, the inventor, the C.I.A., the F.B.I. and various other forms of human shit.
    Tanya came over and sat in my lap. “they will kill me now. please try not to be sad.”
    I didn’t answer.
    then Von Brashlitz was screaming, pointing to Tanya — “I TELL YOU, GENTLEMEN, SHE HAS NO FEELING! I SAVED THE DAMN THING FROM HITLER! I tell you, it is nothing but a MACHINE!”
    they all just stood there. nobody believed Von B.
    it was simply the most beautiful machine, and so-called woman, they had ever seen.
    â€œOh shit! you idiots! every woman is a fucking machine, can’t you see that? they play for the highest bidder! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS LOVE! THAT IS A FAIRY-TALE MIRAGE LIKE CHRISTMAS!”
    they still wouldn’t believe.
    â€œTHIS is only a machine! have no FEAR! WATCH!”
    Von Brashlitz grabbed one of Tanya’s arms.
    ripped it completely off of her body.
    and inside — inside the hole of her shoulder — you could see it — there was nothing but wire and tubes — coiled and running things — plus some minor substance that faintly resembled blood.
    I saw Tanya standing there with this coil of wire hanging from her shoulder, where the arm used to be. she looked at me:
    â€œplease, for me too! I asked you to try not to be too sad.”
    I watched as they ganged her, and ripped and raped and tore.
    I couldn’t help it. I put my head down between my legs and cried…
    also, Indian Mike never got his 20 bucks worth.
    some months went by. I never went back to the bar. there was a trial but the govt. exonerated Von B. and his machine. I moved to another town. far