Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3) (11 page)

Katherine hissed and bared her fangs.

“I’ve compromised my integrity for less than a six before,” said Cooper.

Tim hopped down from his chair and dove at Stacy’s feet. They both crashed to the floor.

“Ew!” said Stacy. “Why’s the floor so sticky? When’s the last time you mopped?”

Katherine loomed over them. She ran her tongue over her fangs.

“Get the hell out of here and go find that little vampire shit!” said Tim.

“Hmph,” said Katherine. “Six ain’t worth it. I’d rather eat rats.” She tossed her hair back and walked toward the front door.

“Hold on,” said Tim, standing up. “Cooper’s going with you.”

“I am?” said Cooper.

“Yes,” said Tim. “If it comes down to a vampire fight, you should more than tip the scale in Katherine’s favor. Just try to stay out of sight as best you can. Bring the Bag of Holding. Kill him if you have to, but try to just bag him.”

“He’s only three feet tall,” said Katherine. “I think I can handle him myself. Cooper will just slow me down.”

“I’m not taking any chances. You go together. Take Randy’s van. Randy, keys.”

Randy tossed his keys to Katherine, who snatched them out of the air as quick as a frog tongue.

“I’ll go with them,” said Chaz. “I have experience with vampires.”

Cooper snorted as he re-entered from the back with the Bag of Holding. “You have experience being a vampire’s bitch.”

“Keep talking, Cooper,” said Chaz. “We’ll see how tough you talk after we get those dice back and we both return to normal.”

“Come on, Cooper,” said Katherine.

Cooper gave Chaz a wide grin and a middle finger as he and Katherine walked out the front door.

It occurred to Dave that nobody except Katherine knew what Chaz’s true form looked like. He guessed from the nature of his threat that he was probably a big guy. That was good. Cooper could use a good pounding.

“I need you here, Chaz,” said Tim.

“What for?” said Chaz. “I’m just a
bard
, remember?”

“I need you to pretend to be Stacy on Facebook.”

“What the hell for?” asked Chaz. “Why can’t Stacy be Stacy?”

“I
am
pretty good at it,” said Stacy.

“I’m sorry, Stacy,” said Tim. “You’re really pretty. And you’re smart, and funny, and you’ve really been a great sport about all this.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“But we’ve only got one shot at this, and Chaz has a higher Charisma than you.”

“I hate your whole family.”

As much fun as it was watching Tim make an ass of himself, the hours of being jostled against the metal walls of Randy’s van were beginning to take their toll, and the desire for sleep became too heavy a burden to bear. Dave climbed onto the cracked vinyl bench of one of the Chicken Hut’s booths. He was out before his face hit the table.

Chapter 13

Cooper waited patiently in the van’s passenger seat for Katherine. He had a pretty good grasp of her tolerance of him, and he knew he was near the line. At any other time, that would be great. She was a fun one to get riled up. But he hadn’t known he’d have to go out driving with her, and he wanted her to let him sit up front. The back of the van smelled like… well, like him.

Katherine stomped out of the Chicken Hut with her hand wrapped around a rabbit’s neck. Thankfully, it wasn’t little Ron Jeremy. She appeared to have run a brush through her hair and a wet wipe over her face. She got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door so hard that Cooper was surprised it remained attached to the frame.

“Sorry,” she huffed. “I’m still getting used to my new strength.”

“Tell me about it.” Cooper flexed his pectoral muscles, discovering the limit of the seatbelt’s give. A tiny fart squeaked out of his ass. It was loud for its size.

Katherine didn’t hit him or swear at him or anything. She just rolled down the window and stroked the plump, white, furry bunny on her lap. “I’m pretty, right?”

That was a left hook Cooper had not seen coming. He’d been prepared for a punch in the arm, even if it was from a vampire. But the last thing he needed was Katherine unloading her insecurities and feelings and shit on him. “Um… sure?”

“I’ve got a lot of good qualities. Any guy would be lucky to have me.”

“Fuckin’ A.”

“I’m smart. I’m attractive. I’m good with kids… when they’re not being little assholes.” She held up the rabbit in Cooper’s face. “See? I love animals.”

The rabbit looked at Cooper with pink, pleading eyes.
Sorry, friend.

“Goddammit!” said Katherine, looking down at her lap. There were three little brown pellets. “The little bitch shit on me!” She brought the rabbit to her mouth and tore a hole in its neck. Blood dribbled down her chin as she sucked the dead bunny dry. The spectacle was both horrifying and strangely erotic.

When the rabbit was about a third of its original size, the sucking and slurping stopped. Cooper willed his dick to stop hardening. They settled at a semi.

“That’s way better than rat,” said Katherine. She ran a finger across her chin and looked at it. “I got some on me?”

“It’s cool,” said Cooper, who was feeling anything but cool. “I’m sure ol’ Randy’s got some tissues in here.” He reached for the glove compartment.

“Fuck it,” said Katherine. “She wiped the clean side of the rabbit corpse on her face, wiping off most of the blood. Then she stuffed the dead rabbit’s head in her mouth and bit down until there was an audible crunch. “Ew, bone,” she said, whipping her tongue past her lips and spitting out bits of rabbit skull. She tossed the stained, mutilated husk of former bunny out the window and turned on the ignition.

Cooper stared at her.
That was some fucked up shit.

“What?” said Katherine. “It’s biodegradable, right?”

“Uh…”

“I’m high as fuck. Let’s get out of here.”

Tires squealed and the van jolted forward. They rolled over the curb before pulling out onto Highway 90, narrowly avoiding getting smashed into by an oncoming car.

“Asshole!” the driver shouted over the sound of his own horn as he swerved around them.

“Hey fuck you!” Katherine shouted back. Once she settled on a lane, her driving was less erratic. “So, where to?”

“Let’s swing by Papa Joe’s,” said Cooper.

“We’re supposed to be hunting a vampire,” said Katherine. “Not picking up a pizza.”

“Do you know where Count Suckula is?”

“His name is Ginfizzle, and no.”

“Then we’ll just as likely find him at Papa Joe’s as anywhere else, right?”

“I guess.”

“Derek the night manager should be working now. He’s a dick. I want to scare the shit out of him.”

“You’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.”

“All part of the plan.”

“Good enough for me,” said Katherine.

Cooper spent the next ten minutes leaning back in his seat, trying to obscure his face from other cars as much as possible while still being able to see out the window. There was no sign of any rampaging midgets.

“Pull over,” said Cooper. “Stop here.”

“Why?” asked Katherine, but she pulled the van over and stopped on the shoulder.

“You see the Taco Bell on the other side of Papa Joes?” Cooper couldn’t read either sign himself, but he recognized the logos. Being illiterate was surprisingly easy around here.

“Yeah?”

“Pull the van into that parking lot.”

“What for?”

“It doesn’t connect with the Papa Joe’s parking lot. I’m going to run in through the front door and out through the back. Nobody will be able to catch me on foot, and if they want to follow us in a car, they’ll have to drive all the way around to Baywater Boulevard and maybe even stop at a light. We’ll be long gone.”

“That’s a pretty sophisticated plan,” said Katherine. “I thought you were supposed to be like borderline retarded.”

“I am,” said Cooper. “It’s not my plan. Some punks pulled the same trick on us last Halloween.” He opened the door and got out of the van. “Fuckers made off clean with five pizzas.”

When Katherine drove off, Cooper ducked behind a billboard advertising a Casino. Having a few minutes to kill, he decided to rub one out. The surefire cure for an unwanted erection. He tried to think of other things. Japanese porn. Daphne from Scooby-Doo. Even his failsafe, Martha Stewart. But his mind kept roaming back to the image of Katherine sucking on that rabbit. What the fuck did that say about him? Now was not the time to contemplate such things. He gave in to his half-orc dick’s will and embraced the slurping and sucking noises, the single drop of red blood that fell between her pale breasts, her tongue, slick with fresh blood, running over her smeared lips. Just when he was getting into the rhythm that would take him to climax, he noticed a stray, mangy Border Collie staring up at him a few feet away.

“Fuck off, dog,” said Cooper. “I can’t concentrate when you’re looking at me.”

The dog started panting, its tongue hanging out.

“Dude, this isn’t a fucking show. Beat it.” Cooper was losing his rhythm. The feeling was starting to fade. He closed his eyes and tried to get it back. For a second he felt like he almost had it again, but he could still feel the dog watching him. He peeked.

The dog was staring at him with its big, stupid eyes.

“Stop judging me, damn you!” said Cooper. “I’m not proud of this!” After thirty more seconds of frantic stroking, he conceded defeat. The moment had passed. He’d blue-balled himself.

Cooper opened the Bag of Holding and crept toward the dog. “Come here, shithead. I’m going to watch Katherine eat you, and I’m going to whack it to that image for a month.”

Just when Cooper judged he was within pouncing distance, the dog up and ran off.

“Damn it!” shouted Cooper. Then he ducked back behind the billboard, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be hiding. He peeked around for a view of the Taco Bell parking lot. The van was there, lights still on. How long had Katherine been waiting? No more time to waste.

His plan was not a complicated one, and might score him something to wear other than his ratty loincloth. Derek was fat enough that Cooper might be able to fit into his clothes. Sure, he could probably just ask Katherine to go steal something for him at Walmart, but this was more fun.

Cooper recognized Todd’s car in the parking lot. Hopefully, he’d go on a delivery before another driver returned from one, leaving Derek in there alone.

Sure enough, Todd walked out the front door carrying three pizza bags.
Triple run. They must be busy.

As soon as Todd’s car left the lot, Cooper made his move. He sprinted across the empty lot the billboard was in front of, and onto Papa Joe’s property. He stormed in through the front door screaming nonsense.

“BWAARRARAGGAWAAARRGGHH!” said Cooper.

“Wah!” said Derek, his little piggy eyes looking back at Cooper. “Who are you? What do you want?” He was wearing his trademark red Papa Joe’s hoodie. It could be a hundred degrees outside, and this fat bastard was always wearing a hoodie.

“I want you!” said Cooper, and hopped over the counter.

“Stop right there!” said Derek. He threw an empty deep-dish pizza tray at Cooper and made a break for the office. “I’m calling the police!”

“The fuck you are!” Cooper sprang across the floor, beating Derek to the office. Derek turned around and tried to run the other way, but Cooper caught him by the back of his sweatshirt and pulled it over his head, effectively blinding and incapacitating him.

“Please!” cried Derek through the back of the shirt covering his face. “Take whatever’s in the register! Just please don’t kill me!”

This blubbering fucktard was the one who had sent Cooper to deliver eight free pizzas way out of their delivery area to his sister’s bachelorette party during the Saturday evening rush. The address had been misspelled and it had taken Cooper forever to find the place. And then that reptilian pig of a bachelorette didn’t even tip him. Payback’s a bitch.

Cooper wrestled the hooded sweatshirt the rest of the way off of Derek, revealing a black T-shirt underneath. While he couldn’t read the words, the four bearded hillbillies were recognizable enough.
“Seriously, dude?” said Cooper. “Duck Dynasty?”

Derek wiped a tear off of his fat, rosy cheek. “That’s quality programming. It’s on the
Arts and Entertainment
Network.”

“Take off your pants.”

After a brief and horrified stare, Derek made a run for the pizza oven. Cooper chased after him, and soon had him cornered, but Derek had armed himself with the long, two-pronged fork they used to pop dough and cheese bubbles while the pizzas were baking.

“You stay back now, you… you… whatever you are. Hellspawn!”

A pizza fell off the oven conveyer belt, splattering upside down on the floor between them. Cooper used the distraction to try and grab the fork. Derek wasn’t about to let go of his only defense, meager as it was, quite so easily. He held on with both hands. Cooper pulled, but didn’t have a very good grip. Derek took a step forward and slipped on the pizza. The fork flew out of both their hands, across the restaurant, and lodged into the cork bulletin board next to the office.

Cooper wrestled Derek onto his back. It was like trying to flip a manatee. He worked on unbuckling the belt while shrugging off weak punches and cries of protest.

“Please! Stop! I’m saving myself! For Jesus!”

“I don’t think you’re his type,” said Cooper. “Hold still! Look, you’ve got fucking tomato sauce smeared all over your pants.” Then he noticed the darkness radiating from Derek’s crotch. “Goddammit!” He had just gotten the belt undone. Ah well, they were going to be covered in piss sooner or later.

Cooper peeled the pants inside-out down Derek’s legs, but they got stuck on his shoes. Derek was flailing his arms around and trying to kick Cooper, and Cooper was trying to reach inside the inverted pants to remove Derek’s shoes, when the front door opened.

“Cooper!”

He’d been found out. His cover was blown. His bowels abandoned ship, a jet of shit splattering on the tiled floor.

Cooper knew the voice well. It was C.J., fellow Papa Joe’s pizza delivery driver, and all around bad motherfucker.
How had he recognized him?

“This is the sixth motherfucking message I’ve left on your phone. You get your lazy, stupid ass to the store right now, else I’m gonna – WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK!” C.J. dropped his phone, his mouth wide open, looking from Cooper to Derek to the steamy, fresh puddle of shit around Cooper’s feet, and then back up at Cooper.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” said Cooper.

“Help me!” cried Derek. “The devil wants my innocence!”

“I just want his pants,” said Cooper.

“Fuck this shit,” said C.J. He ran out of sight and through the front door.

Cooper finally managed to get one of Derek’s shoes off. He threw it at Derek’s head.

“Ow!” said Derek.

The other shoe came off easier, and with it the pants. Cooper removed his loincloth, and Derek curled into a ball, sobbing on the floor.

“Please don’t!”

Cooper pulled the pant legs through again so they weren’t inside-out, and slipped them on his own legs. They were a little snug and wet, but they’d do. The hoody fit much better. Cooper pulled the hood over his head and looked at his reflection in the pizza oven. He could almost pass for an ugly, giant, slightly deformed human.

“B-b-but…” Derek stammered. “But why?”

Cooper looked down sternly at him. “Because you don’t
deserve
this uniform.” He shoved his loincloth and six pizzas which were waiting to be delivered into the Bag of Holding and walked out the back door.