Uschi! (16 page)

The four undead commenced to close in on the man and zombie couple. Uschi assumed a protective stance in front of Denny. The compulsion to quote
Rock ’N Roll High School
was overwhelming. “’This is the big time, girlie. This is rock ’n roll.’”

Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
was the nearest, and Uschi threw back the skirt of her cocktail dress and attacked with a swift Rockette’s high kick to the face that sent the high heel of her shoe up beneath the chin and stabbing through the floor of the mouth and spearing the tongue and burying itself in the palate. The roller disco queen of the dead spasmed and convulsed at the end of Uschi’s leg like a bug pinned to a corkboard, her clattering skates frantically scurrying over the floor and gaining her no traction. She spewed hemorrhaging blood from both her mouth and nostrils. The shoe heel was lodged in there impressively firm; Uschi didn’t bother with trying to free it, opting instead to slip her foot out and leave it behind for a falling ungracefully to her ass Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
to keep and enjoy.

Next she put her hands on the ringleader, the delicious Li’l Bocephus. She put him in an arm lock powerful enough to double him over and spun him around to face where he had just been. Taking hold of him by his ugly-ass red hair along the back of his skull, she none too gently steered him into the bathroom sink. An unprepared to counter such an aggression Li’l Bocephus had just enough time to scream “Cocksucker!” before his brand-new eyeball went into the faucet’s spigot. The optical organ ruptured with a gush of blood and jelly and made a mean and juicy sound like a nailgun puncturing a ripe cantaloupe as the faucet penetrated the eye socket to its full length. Damned if he didn’t become wedged in there tight. Try as he might, it was impossible for a cussing and fussing Li’l Bocephus to pull himself loose of the sink. Uschi left him there fucked up sound and proper.

Unibrow Mexican she went after now. She kicked off her one remaining shoe for better and faster maneuverability and was on him before he had barely a chance to realize he was next on her hit list. He was confused and unbalanced to have intended prey come forward and confront him instead of the typical other way around. He was too slow to react in any meaningful way. Uschi gave him a backhanded slap from hell that threw him face-first into a urinal so hard the entire men’s room wall trembled dramatically from the awesome impact. The porcelain broke and many shards of varying shape and size embedded themselves in Unibrow Mexican’s face and neck. Somehow the piss-soaked soap cake at the bottom hopped up and managed to go in his mouth and slipped whole down his throat like the world’s biggest aspirin. The taste was nothing for him to get excited for.

Uschi then stomped down across the back of his neck, and his mouth slammed on the urinal’s edge. A fair majority of fangs were snapped off at the gum line and sent scattering over the floor like dropped loose change. The plumbing held together—Unibrow Mexican not so much. Muscles, tendons and stringy gristle and such tore away and the skull and spine’s cervical section parted ways. The head of Unibrow Mexican ripped off above the lower jaw and was left behind at the bottom of the urinal; it situated in a position where blinking eyes could look out over the men’s room, the expression to them quite a bit on the baffled side of things.

Surprisingly, this did not actually qualify as a complete decapitation.

With the gore wet fart noisily flowing from him like a spraying lawn sprinkler, what was Unibrow Mexican from the chin on down sprang erect and put on a show. He waved his arms in front of him and set off blindly running from one end of the bathroom to the other. His spry self tripped over anything happening to come under his feet and he bounced rough off of the walls whenever he struck them. His undulating dark tongue was reared back like a cobra anxious to strike and was now the highest part of his person.

“Hey, look at me go!” yelled Uschi, blood spattered and unabashedly proud with her big-busted walking dead self. She put arms out wide and was bouncing her titties and shaking her ass like a hyperactive Vegas showgirl. “I’m happily kicking the snot outta all y’all despicable motherfuckers!”

With flashing fangs and mouth distended to impossible proportions, the Republican attacked like a savage beast operating entirely on agitation and blood lust. He charged the homemade zombie girlfriend. And she greeted the charge with a straight-hand chop descending from above to the top of his head. Uschi’s fingers, strong as steel rebar, cleaved through the conservative vampire’s skull like the blade of a broadsword and didn’t stop until arriving at about mid-throat. The divided head yawned apart like a fat phone book opening along the middle, each skull half coming to lay on top of a shoulder. The blood poured a copious amount and the brain matter that wormed its way between her fingers felt as mushy as overcooked white rice drowned in brown beef gravy.

The Republican’s gurgling cries were quite similar to those of the commode with the plumbing trouble. He sank to the floor like a withering plant, settled toes up. His limbs feebly thrashed and kicked.

Uschi made haste and lifted a foot and stomped him a good one dead center of his stomach, and the things inside him ruptured with a terrible authority. He super herniated with his scrotum ballooning to the bursting point and producing a D-Day on Normandy beach gore splatter in his pants. The belly split open along opposite sides and passed rich and chunky mashed viscera. Colon was turned inside out and shotgunned from the prolapsed anus, a septic tank of a disaster was let loose in the seat of his boxer shorts. Other intestinal matter was forced up the esophagus and vomited from the throat, pooling on the floor between the two head halves.

By now Unibrow Mexican from the chin down had found the men’s room door and was somehow working it open. When the sounds of Feces from the Ass on stage came flooding inside, Uschi looked up just in time to see him scamper outside.

She turned her head toward Denny, smiling wickedly sly and sexy the exact same way Ellen Barkin did to Dennis Quaid in those special scenes in
The Big Easy,
and told him in Nipsey Russell worthy rhyme, “I’ll be back in a flash, and later tonight I’m gonna give you permission to fuck me wild and funky in the ass.”

And then she was in hot pursuit, determined not to let the job go halfass, and was out of the men’s room in the blink of an eye.

Denny Gleeth was on his own.

Not long after Uschi’s abrupt departure, Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
was finally successful in prying the shoe from her mouth. The shoe heel puncture wound behind her chin was a vaginal-like slit that leaked a steady flow of syrupy blood and spittle down the front of her. She rose to her feet, looking around for something to take her frustrations out on. She right soon settled on Denny. She hissed at him like an aggravated Gila monster.

“Bleached assholes and Harlan Ellison,” he cussed under his breath.

She executed a number of nifty disco moves as she rolled toward him, whirling herself around in tight pirouettes and hips wiggling and the occasional legs split. The whole while she was in motion she softly sang to herself “Boogie Wonderland.”

The band started in on “No More Mr. Nice Guy,” and Unibrow Mexican from the chin on down picked that moment to dash onto Club Mutt’s dance floor. His was a presence that couldn’t be ignored, arms windmilling every which way and his fat gut bouncing and his tongue flopping up and down like a madman operating a sock puppet over the jagged shards of ruined fangs running along the lower jaw. He continued to lavishly bleed, spurting and spewing in all directions from his raw stump, and, what with the strobe lights flashing around him and the music thumbing and smoke machine billowing between his nonstop going legs, was an instant success with the crowd. It was simple for most to imagine it was like a lost scene from the
Thriller
music video. An Alice Cooper song seemed the perfect music to accompany him.

Everyone quickly fell into step believing this was part of the show. Seriously, who didn’t appreciate a touch of Gwar theatrics in their rock ’n roll? Soon bodies were slam dancing into Unibrow Mexican from the chin on down, ricocheting him off of human beings and dousing them in his blood spray. They clapped and fist pumped and chanted, “Go, tongue boy! Go, tongue boy! You got it! Go, tongue boy! You got it!”

Safe to assume there were not any MENSA members in the place tonight.

Uschi, headbanging in tempo with Feces from the Ass, came in on him from behind and did a reach around to get hold of him below the chin. With one swift jerk she uprooted jaw and neck and gave Unibrow Mexican from the chin on down a true and complete decapitation.

A real and finally deceased at last Unibrow Mexican from the chin on down commenced to rapidly melt like ice cream in a microwave set on HIGH for four minutes. The meaty portions of him instantly began to boil and bubble, became loose and effortlessly dropped off the bone and splattered the dance floor. His abdomen eroded and its contents flowed forth and quickly were reduced to a liquid state. The skeletal remains surrendered density and drooled apart to mingle with the colorful as clown paint pool of sludge. Even the stained sweatpants and Pantera T-shirt he wore gave up the ghost and disintegrated to smoke. The stench of all this was fragrant enough to make an expectant mother miscarry. It all burned away eventually, evaporated at a supernatural accelerated rate. All that finally remained was a slick residue stain that would never be entirely cleaned away.

To the appreciative applause of all on the dance floor, Uschi flashed her Gigantor caliber cans and stayed to hear the rest of the song before moving on.

Inside the men’s room, Unibrow Mexican’s head from the top lip on up behaved the same as the rest of him on the dance floor. Eyeballs turned gooey and poured from the sockets and the nose collapsed and slithered off the face like a bold snail making a break for it and the cheeks and scalp deteriorated in haste to a runny wet smear. He oozed over the urinal’s cusp and plops of him hit the tiles with a wet smack. Then it all burned away to nothing.

Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
pointed a finger and none too politely informed Denny, “I’m gonna douche with your blood.”

“Please don’t,” was all he could think to say in reply. “That sounds terribly unsanitary.” He was in a pure fright by now. The marijuana’s mellow mood had upped and departed him. He was cowering in the face of Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
, backed against a toilet stall wall, cornered, and his teeth chattering together and a cold sweat broken out over him as thick as Thanksgiving giblet gravy.

She started to lean in toward him, eager to bite.

“You don’t get to touch him,” Uschi frostily informed.

In a heartbeat she was there and stepping between them. Zombie laid hands on vampire’s crotch and ripped her pussy a considerable ways open and reached inside of her. Uschi tore beyond the uterus and dug through the lower intestines. She acquired a stranger’s shit under her fingernails when she lanced the bowels, its vulgar contents liberally spilling along with the other gore down between Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie’s
legs. She found the rear of the pelvis and followed it to the base of the spine, where her fingers fit fine in the grooves between vertebrae.

“Okey-doke,” Uschi said with a giggle while up to her elbows deep in Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
. “I’m gonna take this away from you now. And, bitch, you are never going to get it back.”

One forceful tug and easy separation from pelvic bone, ribcage and skull was granted. Uschi unsheathed the whole spinal column form Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie’s
cunt as if she were Arthur extracting Excalibur not from a stone but from a mass of loose and extra moist meat.

When uprooted, the spine was rubbery and drooled seaweed stringy severed lumbar nerves. Like Uschi’s arms, it was bathed in a rich slather of blood, watery fecal sludge, spinal fluid and other bodily juices. It was too tempting a delectable sight not to try a taste. Uschi put the spine to her mouth.

Down went Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
. Everything that was her dropped to the floor as limp as a fully thawed boneless chicken breast. She pathetically wriggled and squirmed along the tiles like a headless snake.

“Are we winning?” That was coming from Li’l Bocephus, his voice echoing up from the bottom of the sink that he remained an eye socket prisoner of. “I can’t see anything but the handle to the hot water and a fucking bar of Lava soap. Tell me what’s going on. We’re winning, right? It sounds like we’re winning. I have high hopes.”

Uschi’s tongue was in maximum overdrive and licked the spine spotless in less than thirty seconds. She then nibbled at the few chunks of meat that were stuck to it. Wasn’t bad, certainly better eating than anything you could order off the menu at any Olive Garden. Yet Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
was tragically lacking that spicy kick she recalled Li’l Bocephus having for her.

She trashed the spine and looked to Denny. “Say, best thing, you wanna do something ninja killing cool?” she asked.

Denny didn’t seem entirely too eager for talk. His mouth worked but no words were spoken. Not everything with him was set to go back to behaving normally just yet. He was having a time trying to calm his nerves. He made due with a nod of the head and giving her the thumbs up signal.

“Get your darling ass on over here beside me and watch this. It’s something to see.”

Uschi put a bare foot down on Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie’s
neck. She put her full weight against it and things collapsed and were crushed. She started to grind her heel in as if she were extinguishing a cigarette. The spineless Linda Blair in
Roller Boogie
struggled for survival, but her crippled resistance was fruitless. The mounting pressure on either side of her neck caused the skin to dramatically swell outward, next split apart, and finally squirt blood and fluids that had nowhere else to go. Other moist matter excreted from her puckering like a chicken’s asshole lips.