Troubles and Treats

“AAAAAHHHHHH! IT’S STUCK TO MY SKIN, YOU CUNT WHORE! CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Claire mumbles as she drops the taser to the ground and rushes over to Liz while she bounces up and down on the guys back and tightens her hold on his neck.

“Oof, GET, oof, OFF, oof, ME!” the guy wheezes with each bounce as Liz lands on him.

“Tell us why you’ve been following our friend or I am going to mace you, you sick f**k,” Liz yells as Claire gets behind her and gently removes the taser hooks from her ass.

The guy has on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses and I can’t see his face, but there is something familiar about his voice. I don’t know what to do at this point except just stand there helplessly and try to figure out how I know the man’s voice. I know I should get in there and help Liz out, but I’m kind of afraid of her right now. She might mistake me for the enemy and break my face.

While I just stand there, Claire reaches into the waistband of Liz’s leggings and pulls out the can of mace, holding it out in front of her as she circles the pair on the ground as they continue to struggle and Liz continues to lob insults at him.

“Just say the word, dude, and I will waste this mother f**ker!” Claire says excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to say that!”

“Last chance, buddy. Why were you following our friend?” Liz asks as she arches her back and brings the guy's head up at an awkward angle since her arm is still locked tightly around his neck.

“I’ll never talk. You can’t make me!” the guy says brokenly as he pants and struggles to get Liz off of him.

I can’t just stand there anymore. I need to do something. I walk up behind Claire and tap her on the shoulder. She must not have noticed I joined them because as soon as my fingers touches her arm, her body jolts in fright and she lets out a scream, the action causing her finger to slip and press down on the red button on the can of mace.

Within seconds, streams of liquid fire are hitting everyone in the face, including Claire herself as she screams and panics, her arms flying all over the place. I immediately drop to the ground coughing hysterically, tears running down my face. This burns worse than the time Drew ate hot wings and then went down on me. It feels like my eyes are bleeding and I can’t stop coughing.

In the chaos of screams, coughs and crying, I blindly reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell phone, pressing the button on the side of it for the voice command thingy since I can’t see to dial.

“CALL DREW! FUCKING HELL, CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

“Did you say, call Claire?”

“NO! CLAIRE IS RIGHT HERE, YOU IDIOT! I SAID CALL DREW! HELP!”

“Did you say browse the web?”

“YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A SMART PHONE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

“Did you say send a message?”

“NO, ASSHOLE! WAIT, YES! YES, YES, YES! SEND A MESSAGE TO DREW! TELL HIM WE’VE BEEN ATTACKED AND WE’RE DYING. TELL HIM WE NEED THE POLICE, A DOCTOR, AND HANDCUFFS!”

“Sending message to, Doctor Madison.

I throw the phone away from me and curl up in the fetal position in the grass, not even caring that I just sent a message to the new marriage counselor I had scheduled an appointment with for Drew and me. She has Drew’s phone number in her records so maybe she’ll get the text and call him.

I still hear shouts and crying all around me and squint open my eyes as best I can. The tears are pouring down my face and what I see is blurry, but it looks like Liz now has Claire in a headlock and the stalker is on all fours puking in the bush.

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES!!!” the guy shouts.

And just like that, I know exactly who my stalker is. Just a few years ago he had yelled the exact same thing when he walked into our living room and saw Drew doing a handstand against the wall next to the couch while I gave him a blow job.

With squinty eyes, I push myself up onto my hands and knees and crawl over to the figure still heaving in the shrubs.

“Dad? Is that you?” I ask.

“I am an absolute disgrace! What is your major malfunction, numb nuts? You let a bunch of namby-pamby girls take you down. I ought to take a giant shit on you!” he mumbles to himself between coughs and dry heaves.

Yep, that’s my father-in-law. Leave it to him to quote Full Metal Jacket at a time like this. As soon as I can feel my face again and see out of my eyes, he’s going to explain this whole mess to me.

“1-2-3-4 I LOVE THE MARINE CORPS!”

Well, maybe after the mace is gone from his system. I think it’s affecting him worse than it is us girls.

“SON OF A BITCH, LIZ! Will you let go of my hair? It was an accident,” Claire yells from behind me. “And I can hear you calling me a dumb f**k whore. I may be blind but I can still hear!”

“Then hear this, you dumb f**k whore! Sleep with one eye open. When I can see again, I will straight up shank you with a whittled down stiletto,” Liz threatens with her eyes squeezed shut as she crazily swings her arms around trying to reach Claire, who managed to escape from her clutches, drop to the ground, and crawl away.

Alright, so maybe everyone has ingested a bit too much mace.

Chapter 11 – Womb Hugging and Penis Loving

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

I wince at the sound of Jenny’s screech as she throws the cold, wet towel off of her eyes and glares at me.

I can’t help it. I laugh. She looks like she has hickies all around her eyes. They are puffy and red and right now it’s really hard to look right at her. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">