October 24, 2017 at 11:40 pm #3686
Smokey Mountain Blues – Part 1:
The dark night air carries the hoots and hollers of men and boys, the sweet smokey smell of whiskey and BBQ all over the blaring tunes of the one and only saint still venerated in these cynical times–Lynard Skynard.
“Sweeeet Home Alabama!”
It rains through the cool air, carried by the wind throught the leaves over the cicadas and the last of the june bugs.
Beau Dudley sways back and forth wildly as the song fades and a banjo harmony soothes the night.
Smiling faces behind dark glasses and automatic rifles watch on between swigs of traitor Jack’s finest. Everyone’s having a great time, excepting of course the three thugs chained to posts before the festivities – Mudslide, Skunk and Eugene Barley himself. The scent of gasoline mixes with the whiskey and smokey barbeque with a bit of hash to soften the mix.
Two of them stare stoicly..all but the local hooligan Mudslide, his pants already wetting beneath the fumes. Beau saunters up to Eugene like a date rapist at Esse Eck’s approching the evening’s quarry, and holws,
“Alright boys. I do wanna thank you all for accepting my invitaiton to our little soiree. And I’m sure you will be the belles of the ball. I understand, believe me. We’ve all had our petty little turf as long as we can remember, our beaten down trailers where we brew our pretty little poisons. A little crystal makes a lot of green in the holler. And believe you me: no one loves the small American business owner as I do. Family, community and God. They’re everything.
But these…these are new times. The age of international commerce. And you fine young men have all been offered an opportunity to take part in this grand venture. It paints me that you have recived my greetings not with the joy they were intended, but the broken heads and necks of my boys. But I am nothing if not a gracious host…
Eugene…good ole boy for sure, your barley boys run crystal out this holler for years. Whay ya say boy? Will the your good, you Proud Boys have a bright new future of partnership with Atlanta? Will the South truly rise again?”
Eugene Barley glares and spits in Beau’s face.
“Well…that’s a damn shame boy.”
On cue, Beau’s thug turn the stereo to blaring as Beau sways back and forth, seeming lost in the music, flicking a zippo in from of the gasoline soakeed boy’s terrified face. He leans in, glowers and in a second leaps back as Eugene’s bursts into flame, shaking and shrieking against the glowing chains. The screams echo over the old graveyard, barely drowned by the blaing bass. The other two struggle wildly against their bonds as Beau saunters up to the second prisoner.
Skunk’s shaved head is glistening with sweath, the shining outline of swastikas and eagles shining in the light of the flames.
“Skunk…” Beau growls.
The skinhead doesn’t even think, just nods feverishly, “Yes Yes Yes! Whatever you want!”
“Skunk…your boys down creek run a tight ship. But y’know?…I just don’t think you love America.”
In a savage spark, Skunk is engulfed in yelow and orange as screams cover the yard. Beau laughs and spins frantically “Oh! Put some sauce on that boy! It’s a real smokey mountain barbeque now!”
Catching himself, he creeps toward Mudslied and chuckles at the stream of urine sneaking out the boy’s leg. Beau flick the zippo once more, licking his lips. Tears ran down Mudslide’s face and his head hung in shame.
“That’s what I thought boy…Congrats on the promortion!”
The gathered misfits chear and beat their chests offering Mudslide a swig of whiskey as he tries to look away from the smoldering corpses, sometimes friends, sometimes enemies now lying still black and glowing orange.
Business is good in Blue Ridge.
Asheville Police Station
Fiona Loudain steps under the pale flourecents. Another night, another dollar, another shift among Asheville’s finest.
Detective Balzac hauls a lowlife from the streets, his eyes wide with the meth look Fi had seen 1000 times and she hadn’t been here long.
As Balzac’s phone rings, he reaches into his pocket, giving the meth head just the millesecond he needs. He smashes into the detective, kicking him into the balls, sending him to the floor with a shriek.
Fi bursts into action as chaos takes over. Detective Biggs bravely take cover behind a desk–well, as much of him as can be covered. Fi charges the fugitive like bull, sending him sliding across the concrete, grabbed him and in a second was in for the pin. The miscreant squeals and squirms in terror and rage and delicious meth until finally he is subdued with a click of Fiona’s cuffs. He cries “I need Johnny Cochrane!”
As Fiona takes the prisoner to be processed like Fi’s bitch…cuz he is, Captain Hudson takes notice, beaming with pride in Fiona and shaking his damn head at Balzac letting Fi do his job again.
The methhead goes to jail forever and all crime is over.
The coast now clear, Detective Biggs, whose pudgy physique matches his name, waddles toward the captain and does what he does best…complains.
His partner Balzac would be on ice for the night, and Biggs was too scared to face the mean streets of Asheville alone. The Captain rolls his eyes, cursing the union contract that won’t let him fire the useless butterball of anxiety and cholesterol before him, even after his murder of several taxpayer funded toilets. Unfortunately, there was a robbery at Esse Eck’s and all of the detectives had to “investigate” the scene personally.
Just when all seems lost, Fi steps forward. Captain Hudson thanks her for the favor and she is now on Detective Biggs duty tonight.
Biggs breathes deep..the sent of day old donuts wafting from his sweat glands. Fi had worn her blouse completely buttoned up to the collar after numerous complaints about inappropriate office attire. Still Biggs lears and informs her that it’s probably time for her to learn from an ahem…”decorated” detective. Still, eager to get out into the field, Fiona steels herself for a night of mysteries and likely HR violations.
As it happens, Biggs has just gotten a tip, though he has trouble getting the words out, he hasn’t been this close to a beautiful woman in some time, her bulky mannish coat notwithstanding. It turns out there’s been some bad business, double homicide at the graveyard…who knew?
Luckily, there were two donut shops on the way. Fiona of course stuck to business, her stomach churning with the no-fat, no-milk, no-sugar soy-substitute shake she had on her break.
Fiona and Biggs arrive at the graveyard to a horrific scene. Empty bottles and cigarrettes surround 3 poles in the ground two of which are adorned by the charred remains of men burned alive. Boomboxes and speakers surround the remains of firepit. Only the last pole lacks a victim, at its base only unlocked chains. Fiona immediately sets about investigating as Biggs spins wild theories about the third man’s daring escape, no doubt the result of acrobatic training, some sort of houdini hobo on the loose. Fiona steps toward the pungent corpses and decides to actually look for clues. The intrepid rookie holds back wretching long enough to catch a glimmer of a necklace she knows, a rooster, sign of the Proud Boys gang…Eugene Barley’s crew. Knowing the crew often had scuffles with Mudslide’s gang, she decides to question them. Biggs follows along but is not capable of having thoughts.
Mudslide’s Ice Cream Parlor
Fiona and Biggs pull up to the ice cream parlor owned by Mudslide’s gang relieved that their investigation will mean a temporary end to Biggs’ rants about how the world has gone to hell. How this kind of thing didn’t happen in towns of good God fearing people like Asheville.
The cops enter in the middle of an altercation between Mudslide’s second in command Rocky Road. He’s flipping tables and yelling at a crying young woman dressed in sultry attire.
“Get out you fucking cumdumpster! And don’t come back. That used up ass ain’t wanted round here.”
She runs from him, plowing into Fi who catches sight of the bright yellow tulip tattooed on her face. Fi could swear she’d seen the girl before while scoping out Esse Eck’s. If face, she seen her nuzzling up to Mudslide more than once. Fiona does her best to comfort the girl, all the while overwhelmed by the smell of sugar and fat wafting from the counter.
Rocky Road strolls up and asks what he can do for Asheville’s finest. When Fi makes it known that she has questions, he reccomends the triple brownie sundae. In fact, he has all the answers as might pertain to real American ice cream…not that faggy gelato shit.
Fi begins to question Rocky Road about Mudslide and his whereabouts, when the girl breaks down sobbing again. Rocky’s right hand Neo, “Neopolitan”, runs out to back up his boy. Fi learns that the girl worked at Esse Eck’s and had been seeing Mudslide. As she tells her tale, Fi notices the tattoo is fresh, leaking a bit of blood on Fiona. She holds her composure enough comfort her and get to the bottom of this whole thing.
Apparently there’s a new player in town looking to consolidate Asheville’s meth racket, a Beau Dudley from Atlanta, and he’s not about asking nicely. He and his boys decided to make their point to Mudslide with a little gangbang of Mudslide’s lover. Rocky has no sympathy and spews bile even as Fiona notes the rope burns on the girl’s wrists. Biggs unwisely has a thought and questions whether the girl may have flirted with Beau’s thugs, perhaps worn anything that might have been seen as an invitation and took this particular moment to remind all present of the value of kids staying in school. Fiona holds back her rage, the sole source of comfort for the victim before them. Apparently Beau had a habit of making his point in such ways. He held her down and have her the tattoo “to remember him by.”
Seeing the tattoo, Rocky had flown into a rage, accusing her of betraying Mudslide and “sleeping with the enemy.” Fi shut him up quickly pointing out that this is rough business for the “honest purveyors of frozen treats” he claims to be. Rocky Road fucks off and gives her some info about where she might find Mudslide and calls in some heavies, a Caramel Crunch and Stawberry Swirl to keep an eye on the gang’s HQ. Fiona heorically avoids murdering everyone and gets the girl away somewhere safe. She was going to bring a motherfucker to justice and it seemed like she was going to have to do it on her own.
To be continued…
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