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Okay, the people of Westhaven were angry that the presidential election
would get rigged against R.L. Greene.
R.L. Greene himself often said how an election is a right of free speech
and interfering with free speech is treason against the constitution.
As an example of free speech, R.L. Greene was the only candidate for
president who ever said the word fuck during a campaign. He liked to say,
“I let the fuck out of the bag.”
He also said you can’t put toothpaste back in a tube so the establishment
shouldn’t try to put the word fuck back.
Okay, Trig Coleman was called Bub. Bub knew he would be arrested if he
took up arms against the rigged election. Maybe his friends planned to take
up arms but Bub was trepidatious to join them. He was enraged about the
infringement on the constitution but he was also hopeless. The fix was in.
Nothing he could do would have any positive effect so he shot himself in
the head the night before the election. Heidi, Bub’s wife, also shot herself
in the head.
Okay, Bub was twenty-nine years old when he passed on and Heidi was
twenty-three. Their last moments occurred less than one year after their
wedding ceremony in the snow-covered yard of the Brethern church.
Bub and Heidi loved snowmobiles so they arrived at the church in a
snowmobile. They were smiling and waving. All the onlookers were
struck by the happiness of the couple.
The wedding was open-carry. Bub’s right hand rested on his holstered
.45 as he said his I do. Heidi was not packing although in her snowsuit
her sexual hotness was obvious and she was wearing a FUCK hat.
Months later at the joint funeral of Bub and Heidi the pastor of that same
Brethren church mentioned that maybe their happiness on their wedding
day had attracted the attention of the devil.
The devil is always attracted when things look to be going well in people’s
affairs.
The devil probably saw how Bub’s snowmobile repair business was starting
to take off.
And the devil most likely also noticed how Mr. Dykstra at the bank helped
Bub and Heidi get set up in their house on Baseline Road.
Okay, it was a two-story, four-room house on Baseline Road with a yard
and a garage in the back where Bub worked on snowmobiles. The
downstairs living room and the dining room didn’t get much sun so the
young couple was often in the sun-kissed bedroom upstairs. Next to
the bedroom Bub converted the other upstairs room into his man cave.
Bub and Heidi agreed to skip a honeymoon. There was nowhere in America
to go considering the shape America was in and they had no intention of
spending their money in a foreign country. Instead of the honeymoon Bub
got an antique S&W .38 Special revolver for Heidi which still worked.
Okay, after they fucked on their wedding night Bub presented Heidi with
the .38 after which she sat on the edge of the bed with the .38 in her lap
like a baby.
Bub went and got his .45 from the man cave. He then sat down on the floor
with the .45 and explained how it was a 1911 that had belonged to his Uncle
Reed who had shot himself in the head with it.
Bub continued, “My Uncle Reed was a veterinarian but right after he got his
license he was drafted for the Korean War. There was a litter of pups he was
raising and the day before he left for the war he shot the pups with this gun
right here. When he got back from Korea he shot himself with it like he did
with the pups.”
Bub was silent for a moment and then said, “Do you see what I’m getting at?”
Heidi came down off the bed and sat on the floor next to Bub. She said,
“Well, nobody was going to take care of those pups while your Uncle Reed
was gone. They would probably have starved to death. And when he got
back from the war who was going to take care of him if he was all messed
up in the head? It sounds like when things got bad enough he just decided
to end it all.”
After another silent moment Bub said, “Heidi, in the not too distant future I’m
probably going to shoot myself in the head. It’s because R.L. Greene will run
for president and they’re going to rig the election against him.”
Heidi said, “Yeah.”
She too was silent for a moment but eventually she said, “I’ll do it too.”
“You sure you want to?”
Heidi nodded yes and Bub returned to his man cave. He came back
with a box of .38 Special 158 grain Buffalo Bore ammo. He gave the
box of ammo to Heidi who placed it beside the gun which she had placed
on the floor when she got off the bed.
No words were spoken. A silent agreement came into existence between them.
Okay, they were horny again. There was a TV in the bedroom. They watched
porn on the TV with the sound off. They smoked weed. They drank wine.
Ultimately in the exploding union of their bodies the porn, the weed, the wine,
the .45, the .38, the ammo, the snowmobiles, R.L. Greene, and even the
rigged election kind of vaporized. Then they fell asleep with the porn still
playing on the TV with the sound off and with the guns and ammo on the floor.
Okay, as the months passed leading up to the election Bub’s inner circle of his
friends was starting to get paranoid and stuff. Bub and his friends decided to
spend the last weekend before the election at a motel in Ludington. This was
in order to get the lay of the land and decide what to do and what not to do.
On Friday afternoon Bub told Heidi that he would be going to Ludington
until Sunday night or maybe Monday.
Heidi did not ask for the details. Bub and his friends sometimes liked going off
on their own for a few days as was now the case during football season which
was also hunting season. Heidi did sense that something was amiss but she
kept her own counsel. Bub fucked her before he left and then Heidi was in
the house by herself.
Okay, before she got married Heidi worked in an old people’s home in Muskegon.
She ran the bingo games of which there was a game in the morning and another
one in the afternoon.
The old geezers were sort of addicted to bingo. Even though there were no prizes
for the bingo games there was excitement when the winners of a game stood up
and they got their round of applause.
A few of the geezers were more than one hundred years old. The staff knew
who they were however their ages were kept secret from the other old geezers.
At the beginning of each month there was always a group birthday party for
whoever was born in that month but without the ages being revealed.
Heidi’s mind drifted to the geezers as she found herself wandering back to the
garage where Bub worked on the snowmobiles late at night while Heidi sat there
and watched him as loud music played. Now in the garage Heidi noticed a sharp
contrast between the brightly colored snowmobiles and Heidi’s memories of the
geezers in Muskegon.
The snowmobiles represented the youth and sex that Heidi and Bub now had.
The geezers represented what was inevitably coming down the pike. It was
not only in terms of getting old but of everything in general, like how the election
was rigged against R.L. Greene.
Okay, the weekend passed swiftly. Lying in bed and watching TV on Saturday
morning and Sunday morning Heidi observed R.L. Greene holding his rallies
all over the country. With the election coming up on Tuesday there were two
or three rallies per day where R.L. Greene was so energetic as he sang
and danced. How did he do it all?
He was fat but he was still full of vim and vigor.
He referred to New York, Chicago, San Francisco, and Los Angeles as toilets.
Sometimes he twerked!
He said “hell,” “ass,” “crap,” “shit,” “bullshit,” and when he said “fuck,” or
“fucking,” or “how in the fuck” the crowd cheered him. It brought a smile
to Heidi’s face as she lay there in bed.
Okay, around four in the afternoon on Monday Heidi was puttering around and
she heard Bub’s truck pulling into the driveway. Then the front door opened
and Bub walked in.
He looked the worse for wear so after kissing him hello Heidi got a can of beer
from the refrigerator and gave it to Bub.
Bub sat down at the little table in the no-man’s-land between the kitchen and
the living room.
He took a swig of beer and said, “Hunkpapa is a rat.”
“What!”
“You heard me. He told the state police that we’ve got gun violence planned for
tomorrow. As soon as I heard that I got the hell out of there.”
Heidi hurriedly sat down across the little table from Bub. She took a drink from
his beer can and said, “How did you find out Hunkpapa is a rat?”
“He confessed it to us himself. His conscience got to him and he started blubbering.”
Furrowing her brow Heidi asked almost in a whisper, “Did you beat the shit out of him?”
“No. There wasn’t time for that. I got the hell out of there. Hunkpapa had went to the
state police barracks in Muskegon and had gave them everybody’s address and told
them we were planning on violence.”
After a moment of silence he added, “The cops are going to be here before long.
I promise you that.”
They stared at each other. They knew what they had to do. The time had come.
They went upstairs for one last fuck.
Okay, after fucking they were laying there on the bed for a period of time like two
lumps on a log. No words were spoken.
While they had been taking off their clothes they had each paused long enough to get
their guns and place them on the floor next to the bed where the guns now lay equally
quiescent as their owners.
During the coitus it occurred to Bub and it stuck in his craw that a man named
E. Talbot R. Gilmore would incredibly enough become the president of the
United States because the fix was in. Somehow that knowledge sexually
supercharged him along with the knowledge that they were going to blow their
heads off. He gave it everything he had in coitus and then he just lay there like
a whale washed up on the beach.
Heidi just lay there too except there was a paradoxical aspect to it. While they
were fucking she had felt like it was all too much, he was too big, too powerful.
It was how she usually felt. But now that it was over she paradoxically felt that
the coitus had been too powerful but it had also not been powerful enough.
This too was how she usually felt. It had seemed too big and powerful but also
at the same time it had not been big and powerful enough.
Okay, as the minutes passed Heidi’s body stayed perfectly still even though her
thoughts began racing. What if Bub had been a bear that tore her apart with its
teeth? Or what if she was the one who tore him apart with her teeth? What if they
ripped each other apart like maniacs and ate each other up? She wasn’t the least
bit repulsed by that, on the contrary in fact.
Eventually Heidi lolled her head over to look at Bub.
She said, “Hun…”
He said, “Yeah, I know.”
Okay, they put a few clothes on as if it would matter to them when their bodies were
found by the state police after they were dead. No words were spoken. Heidi put
on a simple house dress. She wore no bra. Bub put on a black t-shirt and his sweat
pants that he wore while working on snowmobiles. He also held a sweatshirt in
his hands.
They went and got their guns which Heidi got from her dresser drawer and Bub
got from his man cave.
They sat on the floor.
Bub said, “If you don’t mind I’ll go first.”
Holding his gun in one hand he started to put the sweatshirt over his head
with the other hand.
Heidi said, “What are you doing there?”
“Well, there’s going to be a mess so I’ll use the sweatshirt over my head.”
“But I want to see it. I want to see the inside of you,” she protested somewhat
seductively and with surprising vehemence.
“Ha ha, suit yourself, babe,” said Bub. He eschewed the sweatshirt and racked a
round into the chamber of his .45. He put the barrel into his mouth and pulled
the trigger. There was a huge roar with blood and brains sprayed everywhere.
Heidi put her index finger into some of the blood and tasted it. A lot of people
think that when a dog licks its master’s blood who has died that this is a sign
of insensitivity on the part of the dog but it may actually be the opposite, as
when Heidi tasted it affectionately.
Heidi even thought of tasting Bub’s brain but she hesitated and touched it
but did not taste it.
With her .38 in her hand she got up and walked to the window of the bedroom.
She looked out into the night.
Across Baseline Road a gigantic fruit processing plant was being constructed.
It was almost finished. Heidi got down on her knees and opened the window a bit.
As the cold November air rushed in she said fuck and took a couple of shots at
the fruit processing plant. She probably missed but it didn’t matter now.
When she put the barrel of the gun into her mouth like Bub had done it occurred
to her that what if she shot herself but didn’t die? She would be a vegetable.
But anyway she pulled the trigger with her thumb.
Except R.L Greene won the election!
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