Pink Butterfly (3 page)

“I want to go,” the girl on the left said.

“Me too,” the blonde in the center added.

“Not until we have a little chat,” Jeff said, picking some dead skin out of his eye. “I need to understand how you think.”

“What do you mean, how we think?” the blonde asked.

“What’s your name?” Jeff asked.

The girl hesitated and replied, “Raven.”

“What kind of fucked up name is that?” Jeff asked.

“It’s my stage name asshole,” Raven snapped back.

“What’s your real name?”

“Ashley.”

“I like Raven better. So Raven, tell me why women are such lying cheating bitches.”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“Either way, just answer the question,” Jeff replied shaking his head.

“That’s a loaded question, no matter how I answer it, you won’t be satisfied.”

“I bet you know all about satisfying men Raven,” Jeff said with a chuckle. “How is it that you became such a whore?”

“You don’t know me!” Raven snapped back.

“No, but I can see your nipples from here and that’s a pretty good indication you’re a whore. Last time I went to the supermarket, I didn’t see so many nipples.”

“I’m a dancer! I perform, I don’t have sex for money!”

“Splitting hairs are we?” Jeff asked. “And what’s your name?” Jeff asked the girl on the left.

“Kandy,” she replied meekly.

“Say it loud and proud missy,” Jeff said laughing. “Like Kandy Corn?”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, I’m not going to talk to you.”

“How can I not make fun of you? You’re dressed like something out of a sci-fi porn movie. My God, if my sister dressed like you, my mother would have beat her ass so hard. Does your mother know you do this for a living?” Jeff asked.

“She’s in the dressing room, want me to ask her?” Kandy replied.

“Holy shit, like mother like daughter. What kind of fucked up trailer park life did you come from?”

For a moment the room was silent. Then the girl on the right stood up and walked over to Jeff and looked him in the eye glaring with anger. She reeled back her hand and slapped him across the face to his astonishment. “What’s your name Missy?” Jeff asked working off the pain.

“Heather, what’s your name asshole?”

“Jeff, glad to meet you, now sit the fuck down.”

Heather stood her ground and placed her hands on her hips. Her firm round breasts and bright pink nipples were forefront in Jeff’s view and very distracting.

“How do you keep from getting stretch marks being topless so much?” Jeff asked in a smart ass tone.

“If you’re looking for a story, I have a story for you, so shut the fuck up and listen,” Heather barked back.

“Go on,” Jeff said leaning away from the pissed stripper standing in his face.

“When I was thirteen, I worked on a huge industrial chicken farm pulling out dead chickens from the cages and throwing them out. I was the only girl there and had to put up with all the sexist men who wanted to take me into the feed room and screw my brains out. I learned early on about how to handle myself around jerks like you.”

“Is this going to get interesting any time soon?” Jeff asked.

“Keep listening asshole. One day I was driving the tractor hauling a load of dead chickens in my trailer when my boss told me I was needed in the egg processing building. He said there was a mess that needed cleaned up and that I was the only person available. So, I left my tractor and went over to the other building. When I got inside I found out they were having a birthday party for one of the crew and that I was supposed to be the entertainment.”

“Now it’s getting interesting,” Jeff said with a yawn.

“Yeah, you’ll love this. When I turned to leave, two of the crew grabbed me and started ripping off my coveralls, while the rest yelled telling them not to let me get away.”

“Did you get away?” Jeff asked.

“I stuck my fingernail in one guy’s eye till it popped and kicked the other guy in the balls so hard he had to have them surgically removed the next day.”

“Tough bitch?” Jeff said sarcastically. “You may have a gun, but I have no problem taking you down and defending myself.”

“This isn’t a chicken farm and I am not some egg packer. I’m not going to let you do anything to me, now sit down and shut the fuck up with the other two.”

“That’s not the end of my story,” Heather stated matter of fact. “I found my boss afterwards and killed him. Tossed him into the grinder we use to grind up the dead chickens.”

“Was he alive when you tossed him in the grinder?”

“I didn’t take a pulse, but he might have been. He didn’t shout or anything so I don’t think he felt much.”

“So what happened to you?”

“I was thirteen, so I got one year in juvenile detention and six months’ probation. It’s not even on my permanent record.”

“Do they do background checks on strippers? I mean, would killing a guy make a difference?”

“I wasn’t always a stripper.”

“Did you work your way up from bar tender?” Jeff asked.

“I have a degree in business administration!” Heather barked back.

“Is that how you learned to cash all your ones into larger bills before taking them home?” Jeff replied with a grin.

“You need to learn to respect women,” Heather stated.

“You need to put your clothes on and quit acting like a whore,” Jeff snapped back.

“What’s the matter? Did you catch your woman cheating on you or something?”

Jeff paused for a moment and wondered how she came up with that. “As a matter of fact yes, how did you know?”

“I didn’t. A lot of guys that come in here are either pathetic losers, unhappy with their wives or been cheated on. You fit the pattern. Now you hate all women and take out your hatred on any woman you see.”

“You should have got your degree in psychology instead of business administration,” Jeff replied.

“Where is your wife?” Heather asked.

“In the trunk of my car where she belongs,” Jeff replied not batting an eye.

“Is she alright?”

“I doubt it.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

“About ten minutes ago when I went to get my shotgun, she was still squirming so she should be ok for a while yet. I think there’s pretty good ventilation back there.”

“What are you planning to do with her? Leave her there till she dies?”

“Honestly, this is still kind of a blur to me. I just caught her today so I’m still working out the details in my head. I’m not the kind of guy that’s good at making snap decisions.”

“What the hell? You snapped and shot Roger in the chest!”

“That’s different, he was coming after me. Self-defense you know. Gotta love my gun. It’s an extension of my dick and I know how much you sluts love dicks.”

“So she wasn’t coming after you I take it?”

“She might have been coming, but it wasn’t with me. It was with that fucker from work. Cut his balls off,” Jeff added with pride.

Heather crossed her arms across her chest and looked back at the two girls behind her. She looked back at Jeff and asked, “Who are you and why should I give a shit about you anyway?”

“Nice of you to ask. My name is Jeff Delgado, glad to make your acquaintance.”

“What do you do for a living Jeff Delgado?” Heather asked.

“I work at a sewer plant. I keep the shit from clogging all the pipes in the city. Fascinating job actually, lots of science involved.”

“You work with shit all day? And you have the balls to condemn what I do for a living?” Heather asked sarcastically.

“I earn an honest living. Without me, your toilet would get backed up and you’d have to shit in the back yard. All you do is flash your titties and take money away from honest hard working men.”

“You don’t think we provide a service?” Heather replied with a grin. “You horny fuckers are like free ATM’s to us. We make our living off your stupidity. Nobody wants to see your sweaty balls, but I can get any man to pay me to show him my tits. That’s life buddy and if you haven’t figured that out by now it’s too late. Women rule the world.”

“Think so?” Jeff replied pissed. “The only service your kind provides is a sperm dumpster for any guy that smiles at you. How many kids do you have at home? How many fathers do they have?”

“Three and one,” Heather replied.

“You’re the exception to the rule, most of you whores can’t keep the fathers straight.”

“And you know this based on?”

“Sit your tits down and shut the hell up!” Jeff snapped. “You talk like a woman, never know when to keep your mouth shut.”

Midnight

A loud clank shook the room and the floor dropped for a moment and came to a halt.

“What the fuck was that?” Jeff asked looking at the floor.

“The elevator, someone unlocked it, probably when they tripped the security alarm.” Heather replied.

“Elevator to where?” Jeff asked confused.

“To one of the lower levels.”

“What kind of place is this? An old World War 2 bunker or something?”

“No, it’s our embassy.”

“What the hell?” Jeff asked with a furl in his brow.

“This is not just a strip club, it’s also the location of the embassy of our country, Labiastan.”

“Is that why this place is so far out in the country?”

“Yes, all the land for a mile around is embassy property, considered part of our country.”

“Is that why I haven’t heard any sirens yet?” Jeff asked.

“Yes, your law enforcement has no authority on embassy property. We are self-governing and have our own laws and take care of all issues of law enforcement internally.”

“Where’s your ambassador?”

“He was taking cash at the door the last I knew, I haven’t seen him for a while.”

Jeff paused and cleared his throat remembering he had turned the ambassador into a liquefied jelly substance about twenty minutes prior. “I think there might be a problem with your ambassador,” Jeff stated looking at the wall.

“What kind of problem?” Heather asked.

“Was a stocky guy? About mid-forties, short, sandy blonde hair, kind of a prick?”

“Yes, that sounds like him, why do you ask?”

“I think you’ll need to call home and have them send you a new ambassador,” Jeff said scratching his nose trying not to look at the women eye to eye.

“Did you shoot him?” Kandy asked.

“Sorta, yes,” Jeff replied.

“Is he dead?”

“I think so, I didn’t have time to check. Look I’m sorry, I was pissed and he was a real asshole when I first came in and I personally think I did you a favor blowing that fucktard away.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Kandy replied. “He was a bastard. I’m glad you shot him, I wish I had the balls to do it myself.”

“Well, looks like we found the bright side of that mess,” Jeff said with a nervous laugh. “Who was the bouncer, your Defense Secretary?”

“No, he was some asshole we hired to work from your country. I don’t think most of us knew his name. We paid him to be a prick and keep the girls safe.”

Jeff looked around and examined the layout of the bar and looked back at Heather. “If this is an embassy, where is everybody? You can’t run it with six or seven people.”

“That noise you heard and the clunk of the floor is an elevator that leads down into the heart of our embassy. We have a mini city with ten floors for two hundred workers. The bar is the way we support ourselves since our country is poor.”

“Where exactly is Labiastan anyway?” Jeff asked politely.

“It’s between the legs of the river Fatchick south of the twin Titty mountains in the province of Grannypantyania,” Heather replied.

“Is that near anything I know? Like the Eiffel Tower or pyramids of Egypt?”

“Yes it is,” Heather replied.

“Which is it?”

“Somewhere in the middle I think,” Heather replied. “I’ll have to consult Google Earth to give you the exact coordinates.”

“Well, first things first I guess, if this is an embassy, then I’d like to apply for asylum.”

“I don’t know if we can do that,” Kandy said in a hushed tone to Heather.

“Why not?” Jeff asked.

“Normally we’d consult the ambassador, but since you killed him I don’t know if we can do that. I don’t know if our country even grants asylum.”

“Is there another person in charge? Like a vice ambassador?” Jeff asked.

“Vera?” Raven asked, unsure of her answer.

“I supposed it would be Vera,” Heather stated, agreeing with Raven.

“Who is Vera?” Jeff asked, tapping his fingers on the shotgun barrel.

“Vera is the house mom. She takes care of the girls and makes sure we all do our jobs.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Where can I find Vera?” Jeff asked.

“Second floor down is her office, you want to meet her?” Kandy asked stupidly.

“Yes, I would like to meet her,” Jeff replied, trying not to let his snarky side come through.

Heather stepped over to the raised dance floor next to where Jeff was sitting and popped open a small door next to the pole. Behind the door was a set of elevator buttons, lit up with the numbers one through ten and a red emergency stop button. “You might want to get off the stage,” Heather said looking at Jeff, “And if you really want asylum, you better leave the gun on the stage, you won’t be needing it if you are serious.”

Jeff hopped off the stage and placed his shotgun on the stage behind him. Heather pushed the button for the second floor and the entire seating area began to slowly sink down leaving the elevated stage hanging from the two brass poles attached to the ceiling. The stage was not connected to the floor and was only held in place by the two poles allowing it to hang in the air.

“Pretty slick,” Jeff said, looking up at what was once a large raised dance floor. He could see the body of the bouncer dangling from the stairs that were attached to the platform above him and watched as it flopped over and dropped to the ground by his feet splattering him with blood and guts. “That’s fucking gross,” Jeff said, wiping blood off his lips.

The elevator stopped at level two, which left his shotgun twenty feet above him resting on an island in the sky from what it looked like below. Jeff couldn’t see the poles anymore from his perspective. All around him were walls and doors; no way to climb back out from the pit he was in.