I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.
I am trying to figure this one out, though.
Jimmy, Not Moses
Nighttime Dalliances
They were, the three of them, pretending to be asleep.
In the guest bedroom of Angus T. Jefferson's humble abode.
Simply because they didn't know what else to do.
Because the refined Desiree and her evidently well-endowed paramour were reuniting in the nearby bedroom.
Loudly.
And a lot.
Desiree was right, this house is too small.
And getting smaller by the rollicking minute.
Still, it was good to hear sounds of life being celebrated instead of the blackness of death.
Life and, apparently, the unbelievable size of Angus T. Jefferson's tumescent member.
Bette & Dot lay there, faces flushed, still and quiet in the semi-darkness.
Thinking of Chester Creb.
And his particular endowments.
And his doll.
Pity he was completely crazy.
And murderous. Don't forget murderous.
Yes, but I really didn't mind the way he-
Sister!
What, you miss it too, don't be coy.
Meanwhile, Jimmy Darling lay on the floor, lost in his own thoughts and alone by himself in his own brain.
Although he was being completely lambasted by Desiree and Angus and their enthusiastic reunions.
He had grown up in the freak show circuit. And it never was a place of prudence and morality. Quite the opposite really. So Jimmy was more used to this sort of display than Bette and Dot.
But it had been a long time for him personally.
Or felt like it anyway. Especially in the midst of all that had happened.
And that was wearing thin.
Boy, I miss Marie the sword swallower. She sure knew how to make a guy relax.
Marie hadn't really been his first, just a very talented one. And there had been a few, just a few, others before the recent Jupiter summer of calamity.
And the Tupperware ladies of course.
He never could help but grin when he'd unveil the magic of his lobster hands in the dimly lit bedrooms of their secret parties and they'd slowly lose control.
Bodies writhing, faces contorting in ecstasies they'd never known with their husbands or any other 'normal' men in their stifled little lives.
His bad boy image (that had been part of the allure for them, hadn't it?) had melted away every time as he felt his face break into a wide, boyish grin as their eyes rolled up and they moaned and cried out and . . .
But those thoughts didn't help his current situation, which for Angus and Desiree seemed to be escalating, so he tried to push it away.
And ended up in another remembrance.
Of Maggie.
He'd wanted to believe in her so much.
Her beauty, her purity.
Her care and desire to be with him.
She'd been great, she'd looked great.
She'd felt great.
And it had all been a lie too.
She helped kill my friends.
Renewed anger and grief started to bubble up in him and that was even less helpful so he shoved that down deep in his gut too.
And ended up with fat Barbara.
Where everything being shoved down in his gut turned sick and sour.
He'd used her, fair and square, to make his own misery and loneliness go away.
Used her and then hadn't even had the decency to save her from the murderous Dandy Mott.
Poor Barbara, who just wanted to be loved and accepted.
And fed.
But he'd been too busy being angry and sick and confused and drunk to be of use to anyone.
But at least not too drunk to take advantage the Bette and Dot, who even now lay just feet away.
He honestly still couldn't remember much of their exchange in his trailer.
There'd been talking. And kindness. And tears.
And boobs.
Strange boobs.
Turning away from that strange and oddly beautiful body had been quite a feat for him.
The only time in his life he had thought with his big head and not his little one.
Covering the girls up and trying to be considerate.
And now, here in the dark with the rowdy rabbit duo in the close by room, he found himself drowsy and pent-up with his thoughts lazily wandering.
I wonder if I'll ever manage to get some tail again. But who'd want a guy with no hands?
Girls, if you squeeze one, does the other one feel it too?
Boy, I wish I had hands again. I'm too much of a gentleman to baste the ham with them in here, but at least I could scratch my nose without poking myself in the eye.
And then he drifted away again as the sisters continued their own private conversation.
That, interestingly enough, almost mirrored a few of Jimmy's hazy thoughts.
Goodness, they sure are persistent, aren't they? It's almost . . . inspiring.
Wonder what would happen if we just jumped up out of this bed and onto Jimmy?
Sister!
What? They shouldn't get to have all the fun, should they?
Well, no, but . . .
Might make us all feel better. Especially if he knows what he's doing. I bet he does, you know.
Sister!
And you know he's fancied us.
Plus he must thinking of it too. How could anyone not with those two nearby?
So you agree then?
Well . . .
Then they heard it.
A quiet sound.
Rhythmic, repetitive.
Coming from the man on the floor.
It was a surprising sound, a private sound.
One they did not expect.
And it surprised them as they realized what it was.
Well, I never . . .
I didn't think he could do it right now, what with circumstances being what they are and all.
Well, at least somebody's getting a little relaxation and release.
They listened, astounded, for a moment longer.
To the soft sound of snoring.
Jimmy Darling had somehow managed to fall asleep.
Damn.
Sister!
Oh stop it, you're a little disappointed he fell asleep too.
Well . . . yes.
And then after quite a bit of religious incantations from the infamous rabbit duo, the house fell quiet.
Angus and Desiree were done.
Finally.
Again.
Quick, go to sleep before they get started again!
Well, based on their previous activities, I'd say we've got about twenty minutes.
Unless, he gets up for a sandwich. Then it's less.
Seconds later, they heard the big man's heavy footsteps padding down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Damn.
When do they go on their honeymoon?
Two days.
I'm going to be delirious from lack of sleep by then.
They listened to the blessed silence for a few moments, broken only by Jimmy's soft snoring.
Well, at least Jimmy'll be nice and rested up in the meantime.
Unless we wake him to do the dance of the no pants . . .
Sister!
And they giggled quietly together in the darkness.
Yup, I went there. I totally did. Fun, huh?
Thanks to brigid1318, The Cry-Wank Kid, GG, haily94, and Jurana Keri for reading and reviewing.
Oh and GG, I'm doing fine, thanks. You are so considerate! Sure you don't want to get your own account so we can hang out and chat?
