She Must Suffer To Her Last Breath
A Kill Bill Fanfiction by Sassy Lil Scorpio
Disclaimer: Budd, Bill, Beatrix Kiddo, Elle Driver and all other names are the property of Quentin Tarantino. The author makes no claim of ownership. No monetary gain is being made from this work
Summary: Budd a.k.a. Sidewinder and his thoughts when he captures and buries Beatrix Kiddo alive.
Rating: T or PG-13 for language and violence.
Dedication: This fan-fiction is for Digital Tempest, who has been my friend on here for the past four years. She's an awesome writer and an inspiration. Tiara, this is for you—much love!
Special Thank You: Thank you, David, for showing me Kill Bill. You know you love this hater!
In the middle of a Texas desert, Budd's trailer sat alone beyond the cliffs on a flat piece of land. The surrounding barren desert had been his home for the past four years.
Budd sat in the doorway of his trailer, spit can in his hand, while his older brother, Bill, rambled about Beatrix's exploits in Japan. He chewed his tobacco lazily, listening, but not believing what Bill was telling him. He didn't even want to hear from Bill, especially not after what happened four years ago in El Paso. But it was just like his brother to think that he could waltz back into his life, knock on his trailer door, and invite himself in. Budd had refused to let him inside. Bill didn't like that, but oh well. Tough toots, Budd had thought. Then they settled for talking and that's when Bill told him about O-Ren's death.
"You tellin' me she cut her way through eighty-eight bodyguards 'fore she got to O-Ren?" He looked up at Bill, squinting at the high sun's glare.
"Nah, there wasn't really eighty eight of them; they just called themselves The Crazy 88."
"How come?" Budd scratched his shoulder.
"I dunno, I guess they thought it sounded cool." Bill smiled, and then turned deathly serious. "Anyhow, they all fell under her Hanzo sword."
Budd blinked at the mention of a Hattori Hanzo sword. How did she get her hands on that? he wondered.
"She got a Hattori Hanzo sword?"
Bill nodded. "He made one for her."
"He made her one?" Budd was still shocked. "Didn't he swear a blood oath never to make another sword?"
"It would appear he has broken it."
"Them Japs sure know how to carry a grudge don't they?" Budd chuckled. He put down his spit can and brought out a beer. He didn't bother to offer Bill a Jack Daniels. "Or maybe…you just tend to bring that out in people," he said, adding to the tension between them.
"I know this is a ridiculous question. Before I ask it, but you haven't by any chance kept up with your…swordplay?"
"I uh…" Budd belched. "I pawned that years ago." He smirked. At that moment, he didn't care if Bill were to kill him on the spot. Sometimes he liked to infuriate his brother on purpose and this was one of those times.
"You hocked a Hattori Hanzo sword?" Bill asked slowly, not believing what he just heard.
Budd took a gulp of his Jack Daniels and looked past him. "Yep."
"It was priceless."
Budd let out a throaty laugh. "Well, not in El Paso it ain't. In El Paso I got me two hundred and fifty dollars for it."
Bill stared at him, silent. He couldn't hide his disappointment from Budd's blatant disrespect.
"I'm a bouncer in a titty bar, Bill. If she wants to fight me, all she's gotta do is come down to the Club, start some shit, and we'll be in a fight."
Bill leaned against the trailer. "I know we haven't spoken in some time, and the last time we spoke wasn't the most pleasant...but you've got to get over being mad at me, and start becoming afraid of Beatrix…because she is coming, and she is coming to kill you. And unless you accept my assistance, I have no doubt she will succeed."
"I don't dodge guilt, and I don't Jew outta payin' my comeuppance."
Bill sighed. He leaned over and then glanced into the desert behind him. Budd noticed this, but didn't comment on it.
"Can't we just…forget the past?" Bill asked.
Forget the past? Budd repeated the question in his mind. Easy for you to say. You can't just forget how you beat up your friend and then watched as your brother shot her in the head. That was four years ago and it was still fresh in his memory. Forget the past…try telling Beatrix Kiddo that. Yeah, Bill, you go tell 'er that. Then come back to me and tell me what she says about it—if you're still alive. Budd shook his head as he thought about it. Deep down inside, he felt Beatrix was entitled to her revenge. He decided to tell Bill this.
"That woman deserves her revenge," he started. "And we deserve to die." He was serious with his words, but then he broke into a queasy smile. "But then again…so does she. So I guess…we'll just see. Won't we?"
oOo
Budd pulled into the parking lot of his current line of work in the early evening. Bill had left following their conversation and Budd had to get ready for work. The sky had changed into a smooth sheet of dark blue as night settled in. He got out of his truck and frowned when he saw the strip club's flashing neon sign. My, Oh My, the sign read in bright red. My, oh my, what a dump, Budd thought.
He went into the building and wasn't surprised to find it empty. Who woulda thought, Budd wondered, as he approached the bar. He picked up a box of mints and shoved one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.
No gorgeous strippers sashayed across the platform in sequined thongs or danced around the poles with garters holding dollar bills. No round firm breasts bounced around for the customer's delight. No titties and no assies, Budd stifled a laugh. No customers drooling, reclining back in their chairs, or waving cash. The only customers this dump ever has are the people who work here. Budd saw his thoughts were on point when he neared the bar. Jay, the bartender, stared at him, and Lucky, a stripper, smirked.
"Late again. Budd, can't you tell time?" Jay asked, not hiding his disgust.
"There ain't nobody in here, man."
"Is that Budd?" an angry voice shouted from the backroom. It was Larry Gomez, his boss.
He's always bitchin' about somethin', Budd thought.
"Yeah," Jay answered.
Budd turned towards the back of the club. Past the pool tables was Larry's office.
"Tell him to get his fuckin' ass back here!"
Jay turned to Budd. Budd looked at him; tired and annoyed. "Okay," Jay said and then gestured for him to go to the back room. "Budd, Larry'd like a word with ya."
oOo
Larry snorted the powered cocaine on the desk and invited Trixie, the stripper, to do the same. "Take a hit. Be somebody, baby."
Budd walked into the cluttered office and waited for Larry to notice him. It didn't take long.
"You lookin' for me?"
Larry stared at him, incredulous that his worker had the nerve to show up nearly a half hour late for the umpteenth time. "I don't know what carwash you're worked for before you came here that let you stroll in twenty minutes late, but it wasn't owned by me—and I own a fuckin' carwash."
Budd leaned against the doorframe. It's gonna be awhile before I get outta here.
"Do you want me to leave?" Trixie asked. She was dressed in a black lingerie skimpy outfit with her breasts pushed up. Budd glanced at her.
"No, I don't want you to leave. I want you to sit and wait," Larry said. He leaned back in his swiveling chair.
"Larry…there ain't nobody out there, so…" Budd said, exasperated. He held up his hands and then let them down at his sides. "Larry…"
"'There's nobody out there, Larry,'" Larry said, slurring the words. "What's your point? That you're not needed here?"
Budd sighed, his broad shoulders heaved up and down. "My point is I'm the bouncer an' there ain't nobody out there to bounce."
"You're saying that the reason…that you're not doing the job that I'm paying you to do is that you don't have a job to do?"
Budd frowned; he knew the direction Larry was going in and he didn't want to hear it. "No…" he said quietly.
"Is that what you're sayin'?"
It had come down to this for Budd. The former handsome and professional killer was now a bouncer at a grimy strip club. He didn't like to think of how far he fell and it was partially why he was angry at Bill. Ever since the Two Pines Wedding Chapel Massacre, nothing and nobody had been the same. Including Budd.
After the hit on Beatrix Kiddo, there was no one else to go after, to stalk, to kill. There was no more work for Budd. The honest truth was he didn't have the heart to be an assassin anymore, although there were times where he missed those days. There wasn't any work for him to do. Just as right now, there was no work for him. It infuriated him.
"What are you trying to convince me of exactly, that you're as useless as an asshole right here?" Larry pointed at his elbow. "Well; guess what Buddy, I think you just fuckin' convinced me. Let's go to the calendar. It's calendar time. Calendar time for Buddy." He reached into a can of writing utensils and turned in his chair to the calendar on the wall. He took the top off a black felt tip marker and poised it over the calendar. "Okay, you workin' tomorrow?" he asked, grinning at Budd.
"Yeah." Budd nodded in a humble manner.
"No, you're not. You don't even know what fuckin' day you're workin'," Larry chuckled, but he was obviously annoyed. "Here, you're not workin' tomorrow—you're workin' Wednesday. Here you are, there you go. You workin' Thursday?"
"Yeah."
"I don't think so." Larry crossed out his name. The marker made a squeaky swishing sound. "Friday?"
Budd nodded.
"There's your name—that used to be your name." Larry crossed out Budd's name, more furious than before and the marker squeaked against the calendar.
"If you say so," Budd said.
The black marker came down again and Budd felt it was far worse than the Hattori Hanzo sword that Beatrix possessed. It squeaked and swished at Larry's insistence.
Budd groaned.
"Saturday? Monday? That used to be your name!"
Larry pressed down on the marker until he was scribbling all over the calendar. Then he threw down the marker on the desk. "Fuckin' with your cash is the only thing you kids seem to understand! Okay?"
It was times like this that he missed being an assassin in his brother's gang. The good ol' days of being "Sidewinder." If he were still in peak condition, he would've broken Larry's arm in five different places and then carve out his heart with the Hattori Hanzo sword Bill had given him. Then he'd drive around town with the Larry's heart impaled on the sword.
"Now, I want you to go home till I call you—till I call you. Before you leave, talk to Rocket, she's got a job for you to do," Larry paused as if searching for another thing to give Budd a hard time about. Then his beady eyes focused on Budd's white cowboy hat. "The hat. That fuckin' hat…that fuckin' hat."
Budd pulled the hat over his face as Larry ranted against it.
"How many times I have told you don't wear that fuckin' hat here. How many?"
"The customers wear hats," Budd said, as if that'd champion his right to wear it.
"I'm not the boss of the customers. I'm the boss of you and I'm telling you I want you to keep that shit-kicker hat at home."
Silently, Budd took off his white cowboy hat. Without another word, he left the office with his hat under his arm, and his head bent down as he stared at the ground. He went into the kitchen and lit a cigarette. Then he went back out to the floor where the empty platforms waited for strippers to walk across them.
Rocket came over to him, wearing a black see through negligee and red thong and bra. "Hey, Budd, honey, the toilet's at it again. There's shitty water all over the floor."
"OK…Rocket," Budd said in the most fakest friendly tone he could muster. "I'll clean it up."
"Mmm-hmm," she said, pleased with his compliance.
What's the world come to? Now I'm taking orders from a stripper, he thought.
oOo
By the time Budd returned to his trailer, night had fallen. Blackness draped over the surrounding hills and cliffs, the impressive landscape that he woke up to every morning. He enjoyed his solitude in this corner of Texas.
Budd pulled the car over. He got out and walked slowly to his trailer. Then he stopped and glanced around the area. Something unusual was in the air, he could sense it. What was it? Budd took out a cigarette and flicked his lighter. The flame appeared then disappeared just as quickly. Okay, now that's just weird, he thought. He squinted and turned around searching past the cliffs as far as his eyes would let him. He could smell her in the air. Was she hiding in those cliffs? Budd felt a chill race through his body as he thought about Bill had told him earlier.
She's coming to kill you and I have no doubt she will succeed.
Yep, the heartbreaker cunt is nearby, he thought. Where, he didn't know, but it was only a matter of time before she showed her face. He took out his cigarette and then removed his hat. Something was going to happen before the night was over, he knew that much. Budd took one last look inside around the surrounding desert and decided he was not worried about Bill's warning.
Budd went inside his trailer, closing the door behind him, and made himself comfortable. He took off his blue shirt and put on a Hawaiian styled one. He got a beer out of his refrigerator and placed it on a stool. Then he turned on his phonograph and Johnny Cash's A Satisfied Mind played out. As Cash sang the sad lyrics of life's twist and turns, Budd searched under his sloppy bed for the double barreled rifle he kept. His hand closed around the black handle and he pulled it out. Budd smiled. Finally, he was ready as he pulled his rocking chair in front of the door.
If Beatrix was going to attack him, she'd have to go through the only entrance and that was the front door. There was no other way in or out of his trailer. Budd sat down and rocked back and forth, his eyes glued to the front door. Eventually, she'll show her pretty little blonde self, he thought. In the meantime, I'll wait here, down a couple of beers, and listen to good ol' Cash. Patience is a virtue; good things come to those who wait. Budd laughed at the clichés.
A loud crash sounded from outside the trailer. Dogs barked loudly and Budd got up from his rocking chair to see what it was. He turned off the phonograph and opened his blinds. Peering outside into the night sky, Budd saw no immediate or obvious threat. He squinted and looked all around. Then he put on his phonograph again and sat in his rocking chair. Any moment now and she'll come through here; Budd thought smugly and rocked back and forth listening to Johnny Cash.
Suddenly, he heard thudding footsteps from the outside directly in front of him. The trailer's door was pulled open and Beatrix Kiddo came rushing in, gripping her Hattori Hanzo sword. Budd saw white hot hatred in her eyes for a split second and then a flash of pure shock upon meeting up with his double barrel rifle.
Surprise bitch!
He pulled the trigger and the rifle exploded in the small trailer. Beatrix was propelled backwards through the air before landing hard on her back. Budd waited in his chair and then turned off the phonograph. He could hear her groaning in pain and shock from several feet away. It was low, but audible enough for him to hear it.
Budd rose from his rocking chair and stood in the doorway, laughing sadistically at Beatrix who writhed in pain on the ground in front of him. He stepped down from the trailer balancing the rifle on his shoulder and approached her.
"That gentled ya down some, didn't it?"
The Hattori Hanzo sword lay in the dirt beside her, harmless without its vengeful owner. Budd kicked it viciously and it clanged against a nearby trash can. He checked his rifle and removed the two used up rock salt cartridges and injected in two new ones.
"Yep. Ain't nobody a bad-ass with a double dose of rock-salt dug deep in her tits."
Beatrix coughed up blood and saliva and twisted on the ground. She was in tremendous pain and shock from the double blasts she had received from Budd's rifle.
Budd looked down when he heard her cough and sputter. Did I shoot 'er down or what? He saw the rock-salt had punctured two areas in her upper chest, leaving two bloody holes in her leather jacket. Beatrix's chest heaved up and down as she breathed rapidly.
"Not havin' tits as fine…and as big as yours…I can't even imagine how bad that shit must sting." Budd leaned over Beatrix with his rifle. He grabbed the holder and sog from her leg and tossed it aside in the dirt. You won't be needin' these, girlie. Budd smirked at seeing her cough and writhe in pain. "I don't want to neither."
Beatrix turned towards him and he could see a tear slip out of her left eye. Her face was covered in dirt and her lips bled. She spat a gob of bloody saliva on his face. That's disgusting, he thought as he closed his eyes and wiped it off with a red bandana.
Then he looked at her again. She was breathing hard and hatred glowed red hot in her eyes like burning coals. Budd chewed and spat liquefied tobacco over her eyes. Don't dish out what you can't take, Blondie. Beatrix closed her eyes and wheezed.
"I win," Budd said, standing at his full height.
He kicked her over so that she was lying flat on her stomach. Budd reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. On the ground, Beatrix clawed into the dirt and struggled to pull herself away from him. Budd bit off the syringe's top and then knelt down so that he was directly over her. Beatrix still tried to inch away from him. Where ya goin' little girl? He plunged the syringe into her buttocks and grinned when she raised her head and groaned in pain, before it plopped to the ground and she lay facedown, motionless.
Budd went inside and took out a bottle of Jack Daniels. Standing in the doorway, he gulped it down and looked over at the unconscious Beatrix. Then he went to his makeshift table and chairs in front of his trailer.
It was time to make an important phone call. He reclined in his plastic chair. Budd pulled out the cell-phone' antenna with his teeth and then jabbed a phone number that he knew all too well, but hated to dial. Glancing at Beatrix's prone form several feet away, he figured it'd be worth it this time. He heard a beeping signal twice and then the other party picked up. 'Bout time.
"Bill?"
She's juiced up from fantasizing about good ol' Bill in her pants, Budd thought.
"Wrong brother, you hateful bitch."
"…Budd." Disappointed.
"Bingo!"
"And what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"
Budd walked to where Beatrix lay facedown in the ground. "I just caught me the cowgirl that ain't never been caught."
"Did you kill her?" Elle Driver asked, excited.
"Not yet, I ain't. I shot her full of rock-salt. She's so gentle right now; I could perform her coup-de-grâce with a rock. Anywho..." Budd knelt down and picked up the Hattori Hanzo sword. "Guess what I'm holdin' in my hand right now."
"What?" Elle had a curious note; yet annoyed tone
"A brand-spankin'-new Hattori Hanzo sword. And I'm here to tell ya Elle, that's what I call sharp." Budd held up the sword amazed by its deadly beauty.
"How much?"
"Oh, that's hard to say, being that it's…priceless and all." He figured he'd dangle the idea of owning the sword in front of her.
"What's the terms?" Her determination made Budd smile.
"You get your bony-ass down here first thing in the morning with a million dollars in foldin' cash…and I give you…the greatest sword ever made by a man." Budd paused. "How do you like the sound of that?"
"Sounds like we got a deal. One condition."
Now it was his turn to wonder what Elle had in store for him.
"What?"
"She must suffer to her last breath."The hatred in her voice was enough to make the hairs on his head turn grey.
"That Elle darlin', I can pretty much damn well guarantee."
"Then I'll see you in the morning, millionaire."
"Alright."
Budd clicked the cell phone off and stared at the sword again. It was a beautiful and majestic sword of death. The silver glistened in the moonlight and Hanzo's insignia was carved into the steel. What a waste, Budd thought and he stabbed it into the earth. The sword stood erect and motionless.
He looked down at Beatrix again. She was facedown and flat on her belly, her arms outstretched and her blonde hair dirty from the earth she had fell in. Too bad she had to rush up like that. Budd wouldn't have minded going against her and her Hattori Hanzo sword. He had lied to Bill about pawning the Hanzo sword that had been given to him as a gift. He only lied because he was still irked at Bill for what happened four years ago in El Paso, Texas.
Why did Bill have to drag everyone into his situation with Beatrix? It wasn't O-Ren's or Vernita's fault that his brother had been stupid enough to fall for Beatrix. And now they were long gone. Hell, it wasn't even the Female Cyclops' fault that Bill fell for her. Budd chuckled at his many names for Elle Driver. Elle hated Beatrix with a passion, but even she was mystified by Bill's feelings for Black Mamba. And they said blonde broads are dumb, Budd thought. It was Bill who was foolish enough to let a woman, especially a woman as sly and as deadly as Beatrix, into his heart.
Either way, it didn't matter as Budd had long given up swordplay and was in terrible shape. Gone were the days of the agile, sneaky, and deadly Sidewinder. He shot her because he had no choice. It was either him or her and there was no way he was going to go to his death falling under her sword. Budd was too proud a man for that. He had to admit though: he felt a little sad seeing her lying in the dirt, completely helpless.
Then he shrugged off the sliver of sympathy. The bitch had it coming to her, he thought. First she left Bill and broke his heart by getting married to some loser from nowhere. Then she woke up from her coma and killed Vernita right in front of her daughter. That part made Budd's stomach twist into huge knots. Even he didn't have the heart to do something that cruel. She hacked off Sofie Fatale's arm and sliced off O-Ren's scalp. There's no tellin' what the hell-whore woulda done to me. She had to go down. She'll go down tonight in another way, Budd grinned smugly as he thought about what he had planned for Beatrix.
"I know someone who would love to see this blonde pussy," he said. He clicked on the cell-phone again and dialed. There was a steady ringing and then the other party picked up. "Hey Ernie—how's it going?" Budd said and listened to Ernie brag about some nonsense he had done earlier in the day—he bagged a hooker. Yippy-ki-yay, Budd wanted to say in sarcasm, but he bit his tongue. He doubted it was true, but he'd humor his friend.
Ernie was a returning customer at the My, Oh My Club where Budd worked. They had become friends when one night Ernie had no ride to get home and Budd had given him a lift. Budd felt that Ernie couldn't get pussy to save his life so he hung around the strip club hoping to pick up a stripper. It was the closest he'd ever get to seeing a woman's tits, Budd thought.
"She was all over me, man," Ernie said, his words slurred.
Budd rolled his eyes and held the cell phone away from him. He heard Ernie heap on details about his sexual experience.
"I think I heard about enough of your horseplay, Ernie. Listen—I need you to come down and help me with somethin'."
On the other line, Ernie asked him what it was.
"I'll tell you when you get to my trailer. I need your hand diggin' a grave."
"Grave, what grave?"
Budd grinned when he heard the excitement in Ernie's voice. He's hooked, Budd thought. He had tossed out the bait to the unsuspecting fish and was ready to be reeled in. Perfect.
"Get here in about…" Budd's voice trailed off and he glanced at his watch. "Fifteen minutes." That sounded about right. He waited and then clicked off the phone. Ernie was on his way.
Budd glanced down at Beatrix and kicked her in the side. She didn't budge or move a muscle.
"You got knocked the fuck out, you Hanzo-wielding bitch."
He went inside his trailer. Behind the sofa or in his closet, he had rope to tie her hands with. He rummaged around, pushing aside girly magazines and old newspapers that he never looked at. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Rope and an old leather belt that he didn't wear anymore. Grinning, he went outside his trailer and was shocked to see Ernie pull up in his old Plymouth. That was quick, Budd thought as he shielded his eyes from the car's high-beams. He put down the rope and leather belt on the table.
Ernie slammed the car door shut and rushed over to Budd on his little legs.
"What's up, partner?" He barely reached Budd's shoulder. Then he saw Beatrix laying facedown in the dirt. Ernie was about to flip her over on her back when Budd pushed him away. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"
"Don't touch 'er. We'll get to 'er in just a sec," Budd said gruffly and spat on the ground. "We're takin' good care of 'er tonight. I need ya to do me a favor. How're your carpenter skills?"
"So-so. Why? You need something built?"
"Yep," Budd said, never taking his eyes off Beatrix's still body. "We need a nice old-fashioned pine box to put my friend in."
Ernie glanced at her and nodded. "Will do."
"There's some wood in my trailer, go check it out."
Ernie went into Budd's trailer, the door slammed behind him. Budd went to the table outside of his trailer and grabbed the rope and leather belt. As he neared Beatrix's motionless body, Budd remembered that day in the Two Pines Wedding Chapel. Déjà-vu hit him full force as he stood over her.
Last time he had stood over her was when after the beating she had taken from him and the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. We beat the living shit out of her, he thought, remembering how Vernita had thrown the first jaw-breaking punch. The force of Vernita's punch had knocked Beatrix into Budd's arms. Budd appeared to hold her for a moment and then he had delivered a back-handed shot to the face. Beatrix had staggered towards Elle, who whacked her in the throat. O-Ren kicked her in the chest. Then the circle of attacks would begin again while Bill and Sofie Fatale watched from the entrance. Budd had shown no mercy, he had slammed Beatrix in the face and throat as if she were a man.
Then Bill finished her off by planting a bullet in her head. Before Bill had gone that far, Budd had stood with Elle Driver and Vernita Green on his left side and O-Ren Ishii on his right side, looking down at Beatrix. She lay on flat on her back, bloodied and beaten, and looked up at them with immense pain and hurt in her eyes. There was something else flickering in her eyes, and Budd had picked up on it. He sensed her intense hatred and rage and also the betrayal she felt. Budd felt the first pangs of regret that day. But instead of showing it, he hid it from everyone, himself included. Instead, he smirked down at her as if to say, Hope you enjoyed my wedding gift to you, Bea. Then she tried to speak, but Bill hadn't let her finish her sentence and that was the end.
Or so everyone thought.
Budd knelt down and flipped Beatrix over again so that she was on her back. Beatrix's eyes were closed and if it weren't for the slight movement in her chest, Budd would've thought she was already dead. That shouldn't fool me after all this time. Yeah, we all thought Bill had finished you off, but you're a born survivor, a tough little wench. Budd heard Ernie nailing the coffin together from inside the trailer while he pulled Beatrix's hands together in front of her. He looped the rope around her wrists and pulled it tight.
As he bound her wrists and twisted the rope into knots, Budd thought of O-Ren and Vernita. If only Beatrix had gone after him first, he could have gotten rid of her. It would have prevented their deaths and the DiVAS would still be intact minus Beatrix.
Vernita's daughter—what was her name? Nikkia? Budd tried to remember. Nikkia would still have a Mommy and O-Ren would still be Queen of the Tokyo Underworld. I still can't swallow how she killed off eighty-eight bodyguards before getting to Renny, Budd thought as he used his pet name for O-Ren. He shook his head in disbelief and threw Beatrix's bound wrists down.
Then he moved down to her legs. He pulled her ankles together and tied the leather belt around them. I woulda saved them if I could, Budd thought as he finished binding her ankles. It's not right to take a little girl's mother away in front of her face. You just don't do things like that. He suddenly remembered that Bill was fathering the little girl that Beatrix had conceived. He wondered about it for a moment, and then shook his head. It's not the same, he figured. Budd wasn't one for heroics, but he liked to believe that he possessed an odd sense of justice. He looked down at Beatrix and pressed one finger on her cold lips.
"You're better off dead, Bea."
Budd looked up when he heard Ernie open the door to the trailer.
"All done and she's ready to go," Ernie said, satisfied.
Budd got up and dusted off his pants. "Let's have a look at her," he said as he went inside the trailer with Ernie.
"What about her?" Ernie asked in the doorway, pointing at the bound Beatrix.
"We got things to do. Trust me, we're comin' fer 'er," Budd said as he searched in his trailer for the tools they would need to complete their mission. "We ain't finished—not by a long shot."
Ernie hummed while Budd piled items near the door. A box of nails, a short ladder, a shovel, a six-pack of beer and a cooler, mace, two hammers, and a flashlight. Budd opened the door and pointed to his pick-up truck.
"Put these in there, Ernie."
While Ernie put the items away in the truck, Budd went out to the knocked out Beatrix. He threw her body over his shoulder and carried her over to the truck.
"How'd you get her to be so tame?" Ernie pointed at Beatrix.
Budd grinned. "Simple. I shot her full of rock-salt and to finish her off, I gave her some syringe love," he slapped her buttocks. "Right in her sweet ass."
"You're the man." Ernie sounded impressed.
"Naw, that's my brother." Damn him to hell, Budd thought.
Ernie got in the passenger side and waited for Budd to come to the driver's side. There was a loud thunk and he glanced over his shoulder. Budd had placed her onto the flat bed. Then he got into the driver's side and turned the ignition key.
"Where're we goin'?" Ernie asked.
Ugh, this dude asks too many damn questions. And that last question had to be the worst. I just asked ya to build a pine box, where the hell do ya think we're goin'? he wanted to ask. Instead, Budd shook his head.
"We're going to visit the grave of Paula Schultz and do a switcheroo with my pal in the back." He pointed with his thumb towards the flatbed in the back where Beatrix lay. "I'll let you know what your part is when we get there."
"Sounds good to me."
Budd focused on the road ahead of him and they drove off into the night.
oOo
They arrived at the dark cemetery forty minutes after midnight. There was a full moon, white and round, that provided them light to work. Budd and Ernie took out the equipment from the back of the pick-up truck, leaving the unconscious Beatrix on the flatbed. Ernie carried the ladder and Budd had the shovel. He turned on his flashlight so that they could see in the dark. They walked into the cemetery, not speaking. Budd knew what he was looking for and soon the flashlight shined on the name on a short three foot grave.
Paula Schultz 1968-2003 the gravestone read.
"What's the deal with Paula Schultz?" Ernie asked. "She's some friend of yours?"
Budd rolled his eyes. If this dumb-ass asks one more idiotic question, then I'm gonna revert back to my Sidewinder days and make Ernie's life expire ahead of time.
"No, it's my pal's new grave." Budd threw the shovel to Ernie. "Get to work. We gotta get rid of the old casket and place our new one in."
Ernie wrinkled his nose, disgusted by Budd's plans, but he didn't question it. He stabbed his shovel in the ground and began the backbreaking labor of removing six feet of dirt. Budd watched him and then went to the pick-up truck to get the cooler and a six pack of beer. He heard Ernie grunting as he continued to dig up the grave. Budd returned and set the cooler down. He tossed a beer to Ernie.
"Catch."
Ernie caught the beer and snapped it open. Budd looked down and was pleasantly surprised to see how much progress Ernie had made in a short amount of time. Already a small hill of dirt lay next to the grave. Maybe I underestimated the little bastard. Budd snapped open a beer and watched as Ernie continued to dig.
Then he went back to his pick-up truck again. In the back on the flatbed lay Beatrix, bound hand and foot. Her chest, bloodied and dirty, moved up and down gently as she breathed. You're so harmless when asleep. Why didn't Bill let Elle kill ya when she had the chance? Budd shook his head. Bill still loved her, he claimed that Elle injecting poison in Beatrix's intravenous tubes would lower them, but Budd knew the real reason behind his brother's halting her.
He remembered when Bill had told him about it four years ago and right away Budd could sense he still had a heart for Beatrix. Then why the hell did ya put a bullet in her head if ya would regret it later? Budd had asked. Right away, Bill became infuriated and they had argued in circles. That was the last time they had spoken until earlier today when Bill had seen him to warn him that Beatrix was on her way to kill him. He had spoken to him briefly after O-Ren's death. Budd had told him that he should've let Elle do the job when she had the chance. When Vernita was killed, Bill didn't contact him. Instead, Elle had told Budd. It was strange how things turned out.
Budd's thoughts were interrupted when he heard Ernie shout at him to come over. What's this loser want now? Budd went to the grave and peered inside. Ernie pushed the dirt away revealing the coffin of Paula Schultz.
"I need a hand getting this damn casket out."
Budd nodded. "I gotcha."
oOo
Finally, the old casket was brought to the surface. The top popped open and a ghastly rotten stench of death invaded their noses. The decaying pale corpse of Paula Schultz grinned up at them, her skin darkened and stretched beyond recognition. Budd was fascinated by this: he imagined Beatrix dead in the pine box after many years. Red blood stains would stain the coffin lid she had tried to break free, from but the Black Mamba met her death via an early grave. Budd chuckled at the thought of it.
"P-U," Ernie said, holding his nose. He threw the ladder that Budd had brought over, into the grave. Then he went back down to finish the job.
"You're doin' fine. Almost there—dig another foot and we're ready to put 'er under."
Ernie didn't answer as he continued to heap more dirt into the pile beside the grave. Dirt flew up and plopped down in a steady rhythm faster than before. Budd headed back to the truck and removed the pine coffin and box of nails. He placed them beside the old casket that had been removed from the grave.
As he neared the truck again, he thought he heard a slight gasp. Budd went to the back and saw that Beatrix had come to. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around trying to find her bearings. Good timing, Bea, he thought as he unlatched the back of the pick-up truck. Beatrix turned at the loud clanging sound. He met her eyes and smiled.
"Wakey wakey. Eggs and bakey."
Budd grabbed her by her collar, and yanked her out of the truck. She fell to the dirt hard on her back. He viciously kicked her in the side and she groaned. Then he snatched up her ankles and dragged her against the ground. Budd stopped so she could have a perfect view of what lay in store for her. Beatrix breathed softly, her stomach and chest heaved up and down. He could tell by the way she turned her head that she saw what was about to happen. Got you a lovely pine box to sleep in, B.
Budd looked in the same direction and saw the shovel get tossed to the ground. He heard Ernie shout.
"I'm done! Get me outta this hole!"
Can ya be a little louder? Budd thought as he walked over to the grave. He yanked Ernie up so that he was on his fee and then threw the ladder into the pick-up truck's flatbed. The ladder made a loud clattering noise.
Budd stood over her, watching every slight movement she made. Beatrix lay on her back and moved her hands slightly. She glared at them, her blue eyes frozen and hateful.
Ernie leered at her, the pervert.
"Whoa—look at those eyes. This bitch is furious," he said, laughing.
"What'd I tell ya? Is she the cutest little blonde pussy you ever saw, or is she the cutest little blonde pussy you ever saw?" Budd looked down and smirked at Beatrix.
"I've seen better." Ernie sipped his beer.
"You got anything to say?" Budd asked as he leaned over her. Talk, bitch. He wanted her to say something—anything—it would make the situation a lot more fun if she'd scream, cry out, curse at them—just to show that she was still alive before they buried her.
"White women call this 'the silent treatment' and we let 'em think, we don't like it," Ernie said, giggling.
Budd saw the murder in Beatrix's eyes. If her eyes were as sharp as her Hanzo sword, he would have been impaled on the spot. She wasn't going to say anything, so it would be better to just put her underground and pour the dirt over her grave. Fast-forward to the suffering.
"You grab the feet, I'll get the head," Budd said. Ernie nodded and tossed his beer can away.
They bent down to lift her and carry her over to the pine box. She wasn't going to go without putting up a fight. Budd realized this when Beatrix struggled with her bound legs and arms. I shoulda known she'd try some nonsense. They dropped her to the ground. Budd straddled her and grabbed her bound wrists and pressed them against her chest. Good thing I came prepared, Budd thought as he whipped out a can of mace from his pocket.
"Hey—hey—hey! Wiggle-worm, look at this." He held the can of mace spray directly in front of her eyes. Beatrix stopped and Budd saw her eyes go to the nozzle of the spray can, then to him. Already she was thinking of what would happen if he decided to spray the burning mace in her eyes. "You see this—you see it, don't ya?"
He paused and then continued, "This is a can of mace. Now you're goin' underground tonight, and that's all there is to it." Budd shrugged nonchalantly as if he were talking about frying eggs for breakfast. "I wanna bury ya. I was gonna bury ya with this."
Budd took out a flashlight from behind his back and turned on the beam. He shined it straight in her eyes. She breathed heavily and waited. Budd noted the blood and dirt in her face, still new and moist. The flashlight had entered his mind at the last minute. It'd work as a brilliant torture device. Beatrix could flick it on inside the tiny pine box and see the little space she had. Then when the batteries ran out—Budd loved to imagine the possible scenarios that would take place when that happened to Beatrix. Burial alive with a flashlight—an ingenious way to murder someone. Budd wished he had done it in the past as Sidewinder.
"But if you're gonna act like a horse's ass, I'll spray this whole goddamn can—right in your eyeballs!" He held the mace's nozzle a centimeter away from her eye so that she could see he wasn't playing around. "I'll burn 'em right outta your fuckin' head. Then you'll be blind, burnin'…and buried alive. Now what's it gonna be, sister?"
Beatrix was still for a moment and then nodded towards the flashlight. Budd flicked it off and put the can of mace away. He could see the tears glistening in Beatrix's eyes and he felt exhilarated.
"That's a wise decision."
Budd got off her and lifted up Beatrix from the head while Ernie grabbed her bound feet. They carried her over to the pine box. The entire time, Beatrix was motionless and silent. Although the pine box was a mere ten feet away, it seemed like it was a mile away. With each step Budd took, he thought of O-Ren and Vernita, his now deceased friends. This was for them as much as it was for him. For Elle? Naw, he thought. Ernie placed her gently in the pine box. It was a complete contrast to the way he talked down to Beatrix before.
Budd considered dropping her hard so that the back of her head smacked the wood, but then he thought better of it. Better for her to go in the box totally conscious and aware of what's going on as she's being buried. If he dropped her on her head, it might do her a favor and knock her out cold so that she couldn't feel anything. And Budd knew he didn't want that.
"Comfy? Cozy?" Ernie asked and belched. Then he backed off as Budd knelt down by the box and placed the flashlight inside.
He stared at Beatrix, their eyes locked in a hateful glare. Budd had seen that stare before on the day of the Two Pines Wedding Massacre. Only this time, Beatrix's blues eyes were lit up, hot like lightning. He picked up the pine lid, ready to place it over the coffin. Then the final reason for burying Beatrix Kiddo alive came to him.
"This is for breaking my brother's heart."
Budd placed the lid over her face, closing the coffin. He grabbed the box of nails that lay on the ground and spilled on the coffin lid. Budd placed one nail on the lid so that when it was hammered, it would seal the coffin shut. He took a deep breath, ready to carry through with his plan and slammed the hammer down on the first nail of Beatrix's coffin.
As he hammered the nails in the wooden coffin, Budd could hear her heavy breathing and her nervous whimpering. Ernie wanted to be done with the whole thing, but Budd decided to take his time and do one nail at a time. First, he would hammer a nail in and then Ernie would hammer one. Budd banged away and heard Beatrix crying softly. His only regret was that he would not be there to see when she breathed her last. But at least she would "suffer to her last breath", as Elle had eloquently phrased it.
Not so tough now, are you bitch?
They finished and the coffin was sealed. Budd looked over the grave that Ernie had dug up. Six feet under, Bea's final resting place and where she shoulda been four years ago, Budd thought as he and Ernie pushed the casket towards the hole. Ernie grunted and shoved the pine box again. Budd helped him and wondered what was going through Beatrix's mind. The casket was now in the grave standing upright. Then he gave it one final shove and the coffin landed flat on the earth. Perfect.
"You need help shoveling the dirt in?" Ernie asked as he leaned over and peered into the hole.
"Naw, you drink some beer an' relax. I'll take care of this."
Ernie nodded and tossed Budd the shovel. He snapped open another beer and gulped it down, making loud slurping noises. Budd ignored him and looked down at the pine box six feet below.
"Good-bye Beatrix and good riddance."
Budd shoveled dirt back into the grave. It fell on the coffin below. He shoveled more and then looked down at his work. Only a sliver of the pine coffin could be seen. Budd grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it down in that spot. Now the casket was completely covered by dirt. Budd kept shoveling the dirt in while Ernie watched; completely entertained. Budd heard the faint sounds of pounding. It came from below in the grave. You're not gettin' outta there, Beatrix. Budd smiled and kept shoveling.
Moments later, the grave was filled up. Budd stepped back, admiring his work. He walked across the dirt, thrilled with the fact that he stood six feet over Beatrix. She could pound and scream in the coffin and no one would hear her. Ernie came over to him.
"You gonna put flowers on her grave?"
Budd thought for a moment. "I was gonna put a dozen roses. Let Bill be the one to do that." He spat on the grave.
"We're ready to go?"
"Yeah, let's just get rid of this casket."
Ernie and Budd lifted Paula Schultz's casket and brought it over to the back of the pick-up truck. They'd find some place to hide it, a deep ditch or hidden ravine. There were plenty of places in Texas where they could dump it. Then they got in the pick-up truck with the rest of their equipment finished with their work. As Budd turned the ignition key, he looked stuck his head out of the window and glanced behind him once at the grave of Beatrix Kiddo.
Good night, Bea. Rest in peace.
oOo
There was one last thing he had to do so that he would have his own peace. After dropping off Ernie at his house, Budd drove to the My, Oh My, Club. On the way over, he had an itch to call Elle Driver. She picked up and Budd grinned when he heard her voice. This time she knew not to call him "Bill."
"Elle, darlin', she's sufferin' as we speak."
"Good. I'll see in a few short hours."
"Will do."
Budd clicked off his cell phone as he pulled into the parking lot of the club. Last time I'll ever walk into this dump of a strip joint, he thought as his pace quickened. He entered the club and was surprised to find it with—five paying customers. The freaks really do come out at night, Budd laughed. He went past Jay, who was wiping the bar's countertop.
"Hey Budd, where do ya—" Jay started to ask, but Budd promptly ignored him as he headed straight to Larry's office. He's prolly sniffin' more cocaine, the stupid crackhead. He barged right in and Larry's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"Hey Larry!"
"What the hell are you doin' back here? Didn't I tell you not to come in until I called you!" Larry rose from behind his desk.
Budd stood with his legs apart and flipped him the finger and held it high in the air for Larry to see.
"That's fer this crappy job an' fer the rest of the jack-asses that work here!"
Larry came around his desk. He pointed his finger at Budd like a gun. "If you still want your job, you better shove that finger where I can't see it!"
"Up yours!" Budd shouted. "Take this whole damn strip club and shove it up your pitiful-ass. I'm through!"
Grinning, Budd stomped out of Larry's office and ignored the shocked expressions that he saw on the strippers' faces. They had obviously heard the argument between them, but he didn't care.
Finally he was out in the night air again. Budd jumped into his pick-up truck and heard Larry shouting at him from the entrance of the club. Wheels squealing, he pressed down on the gas pedal and sped away to his trailer. He had nothing to worry about anymore.
By morning, Elle would show up with his cash and he wouldn't have to stress about being a bouncer at a cheesy T&A bar. In an odd way, Beatrix had helped him. He grinned in the rearview mirror and swerved down the road to his trailer. Thanks, Bea. It was time to get a good night's sleep so that he would be ready for Ms. Driver tomorrow.
oOo
Budd stood in the doorway of his trailer, dressed in a pair of jeans and shirtless. It was a beautiful calm morning in the Texas desert and by the end of the day he would be a millionaire. He watched as Elle raced forward in her car, dirt flying in the air.
The One-Eyed Viking Bitch opened the car door and strutted forward with his cash in a bulky red luggage. One million dollars in exchange for Beatrix Kiddo's Hattori Hanzo sword. Quite a deal, if I don't say so myself, he thought. Budd felt his jeans tighten as his crotch stiffened with excitement. He couldn't stand California Mountain Snake, but even he had to admit that she looked damn attractive with her black pants suit, matching black eye patch, and blonde hair blowing in the hot Texas wind.
Budd grinned and belched as he watched her.
Elle Driver, hateful bitch that she was, had kept her word. Budd was about to be a millionaire, he would never have to lift a finger in his life again, be it to kill someone or toss someone out of a strip club for getting too close to the merchandise. Best of all, Beatrix Kiddo was six feet under. She was dead and buried; a memory that faded quicker than a shooting star in the night sky.
She had suffered to her last breath, Budd thought, smiling as Elle approached him; and all was right in the world.
The End