Standard Disclaimer applies...I own neither the characters nor the song. I do not apologize to Gretchen Wilson for the use of the song though, as I believe she'd have been backing Lucille every step of the way. This is most likely the second to last chapter in this little saga. It's been fun but my creative juice is running out on this tract.


Chapter 4

I felt myself being rolled and lifted on to a backboard. I guess the EMTs are here. I still have no idea what happened to me. I strained my ears hoping to pick up some hints as to what was going on. I heard Tank's voice along with one I didn't recognize. Based on the Q&A session happening, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that second voice was one of the emergency personnel. Tank was telling him that I'd been unconscious for 5 minutes so far and that they had only gotten the bleeding to slow down in the last 3 minutes. Joe interjected that I had hit my head on the brick wall. Had I? Hell if I know.

"Way to go Plummer-butt. Too bad that fat's on your ass instead of insulating your head." Joyce was here? Oh, Vinnie better pray that Lucille or her father don't catch wind of the fact that he and Joyce have been seen together in public, outside the Bonds office. That was my last conscious thought as I drifted back into the darkness.

This time as I came to, my curiosity was starting to get the better of me, wondering who I was going to see this time. After the scene with Vinnie and the duck, I was braced for just about anything. Mindful of Joe's words about smacking my head on a brick wall, I sat up gingerly and waited for the dizziness and nausea to attack. They didn't. Hmm…am I dead and I don't realize it yet? What other reason could there be for me not feeling my injuries? No answers were forthcoming from any direction so I put my questions aside and scanned my new surroundings.

There was a simple metal fold-down chair in the center of the room. A bare light bulb hung down from the ceiling, pull chain dangling from it. Outside of the circle of light provided by that solitary bulb, the room appeared to be ensconced in darkness. Across the way, a door slammed shut and I heard the distinct sounds of a scuffle taking place. I sat up a little straighter, the sounds magnified in the cavernous space.

I gasped when I saw Vinnie's wife, Lucille, her perfectly manicured left hand full of overdyed, teased to within an inch of its life, red hair. Struggling on the root end of the hair was Joyce Barnhart, skank of the first order. Lucille threw Joyce unceremoniously into the lone chair, letting go of her hold on Joyce's hair in the process. With a triumphant smirk on her face, Joyce moved to get up. Lucille pulled back her right hand, formed a fist, and completely cold-cocked Joyce, temporarily knocking her out long enough to secure Joyce's legs to the chair; her hands handcuffed behind the chair back.

Convinced Joyce wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, Lucille stepped back, taking a deep breath. Her hands went to pat her platinum blonde locks back into place and smoothed the wrinkles out of her black Donna Karan slacks and adjusted the sleeves of her brilliant violet top, pushing them up to her elbows. A completely out of place look for the outfit but you wouldn't catch me telling Lucille that. I value my life and would hate for her father, Harry the Hammer, to decide it was worth forfeiting for his daughter's happiness.

I wasn't sure what Lucille had planned for Joyce but I hoped it wasn't murder. Not that I particularly want Joyce alive, I just didn't want to go through the hassles involved in being a witness to first degree homicide. Lucille gave a barely perceptible nod to someone I couldn't see and some twangy music started up out of nowhere. What is with the country music already? Yeesh!

Lucille slapped Joyce to bring her around, none too gently if the sound of hand hitting face echoing around me was any indication. Joyce looked around dazedly, eyes lighting on Lucille as she tried to move. "Bitch!"

My jaw dropped open an instant after Lucille opened her mouth and began singing.

Well you're a real hot cookie with your new hairdo
Your high heel boots and your credit card
Long legs and mini skirt

Yeah you know what works and you work it hard

With obvious disgust, Lucille waved her hand up and down, indicating the barely there outfit Joyce was wearing. I swear, most of my distraction outfits had more class that what Joyce was wearing.

You smile like such a lady – innocent and sweet
You drive the men folk crazy,
But any girl can see
You're just a
Homewrecker

Yep. Lucille has Joyce's number alright. Joyce was the final straw in my marriage to Dickie Orr, aka The Dick. I shuddered as a past memory of the two of them on my dining room table materialized in my mind's eye.

I know what you're doin'
You think you're gonna ruin what I got, But you're not
Yeah you little go getter
I'll teach you a lesson

Man, I don't know Lucille that well, but with a father with a name like Harry the Hammer I don't doubt she could teach a lesson that wouldn't be forgotten until the day one died.

If you get to messin' with my man
You don't stand a chance
No, you're just a homewrecker

I'm sure you waited for a long, long time
To find a man like mine
But honey you're too late
So before you go and make your move
Maybe me and you should get a few things straight
There's two ways we can do this
I'll let you decide
You can take it somewhere else or we can take it outside

Apparently Joyce had decided not to take it somewhere else. Dumb move. As she sang the chorus again, Lucille got closer and closer to Joyce.

you little
Homewrecker

I know what you're doin'
You think you're gonna ruin what I got, But you're not
Yeah you little go getter
I'll teach you a lesson
If you get to messin' with my man
You don't stand a chance
No, you're just a homewrecker

Joyce was trying vainly to move away from Lucille but it's hard to get away when you've got a chair attached to your butt.

Now honey I'm a Christian, But if you keep it up
I'm gonna go to kickin' your pretty little butt
Is that clear enough?

Faces so close they were practically touching, Lucille had nearly growled out the last part. Joyce, eyes wide with fear, had probably just remembered who Lucille was related to. I'm not completely positive but I think I saw the floor get a little wet under Joyce's chair. With a completely satisfied smirk on her face, Lucille backed away as she sang the chorus one final time, pulling her sleeves back down.

yeah, you little
Homewrecker

I know what you're doin'
You think you're gonna ruin what I got, But you're not
Yeah you little go getter
I'll teach you a lesson
If you get to messin' with my man
You don't stand a chance
No, you're just a homewrecker

Not sure that Lucille had any idea I was present, I resisted the urge to give her a standing ovation. Way to go! I mentally congratulated her. Again I heard the sound of a door closing in the distance and then the bulb over Joyce's head went out. I sat for a moment listening to Joyce's muffled sob, before laying back down and letting unconsciousness claim my mind again.

I felt the bumps and jostles of the road as the ambulance transported me away from…well, where it was I had been. I moaned slightly as the driver failed to miss a pothole and I felt pain. Pain? Yay, I'm not dead. There's no pain in heaven, right? I felt someone take my hand. "Shush. You'll be okay, Babe."


AN: Please let me know if you like it, if you have constructive criticisms, or if you find distracting errors. Thanks for reading.