we were about to attend church, which seemed weird because they really didn’t have to leave to do that. The freaks had an altar in the living room. I was wondering if we were going to have the Eucharist for dinner, maybe with a little blessed wine. Shit, I crack myself up. So we’re sitting around the living room and I’m leering at his daughter and even the wife, she was damn hot herself. I was wondering how he did it, must have been loaded. Finally we go into the dining room to eat. Yup, you guessed it, more crosses. If those things really protected you, then a direct hit by a nuclear bomb wouldn’t have even rocked the house.
If I had any reservations about turning the night into a spectacle that all changed when the missus comes out carrying a meat loaf made of fish. I thought I was going to puke right there and then. Who the hell makes meat loaf out of fish? What else could I expect? Peanut butter and asparagus sandwiches.”
“Was it the Sabbath?” Clarence asked.
“And how do you think I’d know that? I told you I’d been making up everything. But I guess that explains it. We sit down and we grab hands, I had Mrs. Brannigan’s hand in my right and Amy’s in my left. Mr. B lowers his head to pray and I lean over and lick the top of Mrs. B’s hand, I thought she was going to turn twenty shades of red. Oh, I could tell she liked it; color ran up her neck and onto her cheeks. Her quim was probably quivering at the thought of doing something besides the missionary position. I should have just whipped it out right there and then, because I know them crazy Catholics say it’s better to fuck then to waste a drop of seed.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly the wording,” Clarence explained.
“Close enough, I could have done them. Damn…why am I thinking of this shit now? I probably would have got the dad’s blessing to do them both. Don’t want to waste baby batter now, right! I could have high-fived the old man while he watched.”
“I’m sure it would have happened just like that. How many times did your mom drop you on your head?” Clarence asked.
I ignored him; the alternative was to kill him. “So anyway, Mrs. B is sweating bullets, her hand is all clammy – like her panties I bet. When the prayer was over I kept staring at her, even as I felt Mr. B looking at me. Amy asked me what I was doing. I told her that I knew where she got her good looks from, still not looking away from Mrs. B.”
“Beauty is only skin deep,” Mr. Brannigan stated. “It’s God’s eternal love that goes deep into the soul.”
“He can have the soul, I only want the skin,” I told him.
“Timothy is a devout Christian,” Amy spoke up. I guess she was trying to smooth things over. “He attends church five times a week.”
“Well that’s a lie,” I told her. She gasped. “ Those nights I was at the bar picking up women because you’re so uptight. There you are with a body built for sin and you’re the damn poster-child for goodness, chastity, and morality. I can’t even begin to tell you how infuriating that is.”
“I’m saving myself for marriage,” Amy said, aghast.
“Are you going to be one of those nut jobs that will only screw to procreate, too? Wow your husband’s going to be in for one hell of a ride once a year. What a fucking treat!”
“Now see here!” Mr. Brannigan shouted, standing up.
“Oh fuck, now I know why you’re so uptight!” I laughed, pointing at him. “When’s the last time you broke off a little of this?” I stood and grabbed Mrs. Brannigan by the waist. I twirled her around once for good measure. “Why are deeply religious people always the most ignorant? People are animals, we’re meant to eat and fuck, that’s really about it. Then religion came into the mix and screwed everything up. Gotta have morals, gotta act nice or you’ll pay the price when you die. Don’t you fools see that religion is just a way to repress man?”
“I will not have you
If I had any reservations about turning the night into a spectacle that all changed when the missus comes out carrying a meat loaf made of fish. I thought I was going to puke right there and then. Who the hell makes meat loaf out of fish? What else could I expect? Peanut butter and asparagus sandwiches.”
“Was it the Sabbath?” Clarence asked.
“And how do you think I’d know that? I told you I’d been making up everything. But I guess that explains it. We sit down and we grab hands, I had Mrs. Brannigan’s hand in my right and Amy’s in my left. Mr. B lowers his head to pray and I lean over and lick the top of Mrs. B’s hand, I thought she was going to turn twenty shades of red. Oh, I could tell she liked it; color ran up her neck and onto her cheeks. Her quim was probably quivering at the thought of doing something besides the missionary position. I should have just whipped it out right there and then, because I know them crazy Catholics say it’s better to fuck then to waste a drop of seed.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly the wording,” Clarence explained.
“Close enough, I could have done them. Damn…why am I thinking of this shit now? I probably would have got the dad’s blessing to do them both. Don’t want to waste baby batter now, right! I could have high-fived the old man while he watched.”
“I’m sure it would have happened just like that. How many times did your mom drop you on your head?” Clarence asked.
I ignored him; the alternative was to kill him. “So anyway, Mrs. B is sweating bullets, her hand is all clammy – like her panties I bet. When the prayer was over I kept staring at her, even as I felt Mr. B looking at me. Amy asked me what I was doing. I told her that I knew where she got her good looks from, still not looking away from Mrs. B.”
“Beauty is only skin deep,” Mr. Brannigan stated. “It’s God’s eternal love that goes deep into the soul.”
“He can have the soul, I only want the skin,” I told him.
“Timothy is a devout Christian,” Amy spoke up. I guess she was trying to smooth things over. “He attends church five times a week.”
“Well that’s a lie,” I told her. She gasped. “ Those nights I was at the bar picking up women because you’re so uptight. There you are with a body built for sin and you’re the damn poster-child for goodness, chastity, and morality. I can’t even begin to tell you how infuriating that is.”
“I’m saving myself for marriage,” Amy said, aghast.
“Are you going to be one of those nut jobs that will only screw to procreate, too? Wow your husband’s going to be in for one hell of a ride once a year. What a fucking treat!”
“Now see here!” Mr. Brannigan shouted, standing up.
“Oh fuck, now I know why you’re so uptight!” I laughed, pointing at him. “When’s the last time you broke off a little of this?” I stood and grabbed Mrs. Brannigan by the waist. I twirled her around once for good measure. “Why are deeply religious people always the most ignorant? People are animals, we’re meant to eat and fuck, that’s really about it. Then religion came into the mix and screwed everything up. Gotta have morals, gotta act nice or you’ll pay the price when you die. Don’t you fools see that religion is just a way to repress man?”
“I will not have you
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