By the time RJ was 10, Otto was reading and writing with more ease than RJ himself, and Vera-Ellen was a rambunctious toddler of three years and some months. Her golden hair framed her cherubic face in cascading curls. She was truly the angel of the family and they all cherished her indulgently.

The dark-haired boy found he had mechanical aptitude, finding fulfillment in fixing things. His brother spent a lot of time outside exploring the countryside and playing in their fort. Johnny brought money in by doing odd jobs while his young wife Eve performed her 'services' for the local farmers.

Life seemed almost idyllic in this rural simplicity. This was not your typical all-American family, though, far from it. A demented, sexual sadist clown and a violent nymphomaniac mother raising two giants, one of which was horribly deformed and a bad-temper spoiled vixen-in-training mad up this unusual clan. it was decided nothing would be kept from the children, since by RJ's example theypd probably find out anyway. Their mother's guests she invited up to her room bought them new shoes and clothes, and unlike other harried women workers of that time she enjoyed her work. She'd even attracted the employ of a few pretty down-on-their-luck girls who stayed there and worked under Mother Eve's protection.

It was with one of these that Rufus lost his virginity when he was 15. He'd drank a whole jug of Will Harrison's peach moonshine and was barely aware of his own name when he stumbled into Trixie's small room. She'd been in better circumstances, came from a good home, but she didn't see eye to eye with her dad. So she split and hadn't looked back. Now in her mid-20's she'd been all over the southwest, eventually ending up here. "Rufus T. Wilson," she play-reprimanded him, helping him stand which was no mean feat considering he was already nearly 6 and a half feet tall and well over 200 pounds. He was at that gawky stage though, his bones outpacing the rest of him.

"I was just havin some alone time an' here you come bargin in drunk as a skunk," she teases him, green eyes full of mischief.

"Heh, I'm s-sorry," RJ slurs, deciding to try to find his bedroom again and nearly trips over Trixie's feet. She turns to catch him, his large body pressing against her own soft one. She slipped her arms around his already-massive chest and purred. Then she felt a hardness pressing against her abdomen. "Well now," she giggled, noticing his not unpleasant features and muscles. "Looks like I need to teach you how to use that thing." Rufus gulped and let her lead him to her well-used bed.

RJ awoke with a crushing headache in an unfamiliar room. Yawning he discovered his back was sore and he felt drained and relaxed. The dark haired head on his chest brought it all back for him. Trixie stirred and opened her big emerald eyes. "Now you're a man," she told him. If waking up feeling like you've been drug through a knothole means you're a man, he'd rather stay a boy for a while yet.

However, he finally understood why men wanted his ma enough to pay her. Sex was wonderful, he decided. He was only afraid Trixie would want him to pay her to do it again.

Rufus had nearly ceased attending school by now, having been spending most of his time working the farm and repairing farm equipment for the neighbors. He saw no more point to it. He could read, write and do basic arithmatic, what would he need with all that other shit?

The next year Uncle Charlie got out of prison and came to live with them. RJ didn't mind mind, there was plenty of room. He'd never met his stepfather's foster-brother and was rather surprised to see a garishly dressed black man standing in the doorway.

"Hi there, you must be RJ," he said cheerily. His voice was smooth and deep.

"Charlie you ol bitch hawg," Johnny called heartily, beckoning him inside. "Bout time ya got here, thought I was gonna have to go find yer dumb ass."

The man laughs and hugs Johnny. "Well hell-o," he croons when he notices the scantily clad blonde woman. "Who's this pretty young thang?"

"Oooh, I like him already," Eve titters.

"My wife Eve. Oh she don't come cheap either," he says conspiratorily. Charlie snickers.

A skittish ten-year-old blonde girl in a red print sundress with yellow flowers bounds up, looking up at the newcomer with blue-green eyes. "Well look at this cutiepie," he speaks. "Looks just like her ma."

"That's cause she's lucky," RJ pipes up pertly.

"Ain't yore big ass got summin else to do," growls his stepfather. "You still ain't too big fo' me to cram a boot all up in yer ass."

"Quite a strappin boy," Charlie observes, trying to diffuse the situation, and following the family into the living room.

Hours later finds the girl snuggled against her adored father, worn completely out after listening to Uncle Charlie's stories. RJ was rather tired himself but better able to keep awake. Tiny, silent as always, observed, he scarred face impassive. It seems Charlie wants to stay for a while, at least until he can get back on his feet.

"RJ, take me into town with yew," whined Vera-Ellen, whom Rufus had named Stinkpot, and who was batting her pretty eyes at her older brother.

"What's in it for me," queried RJ.

"I'll be your friend. And I'll do the dishes when it's your turn."

"And the trash?"

"Ok, the trash, too. but you have to buy me summin good." RJ agreed to this.

"Hey RJ," began Vera-Ellen chomping gum as they rode.

"What," RJ answered while driving the truck.

"You still thinking about doing that tow truck business," she asked him.

"Yeah Stinkpot, why?"

"What d'you think I could do when I grow up?"

RJ pondered this a moment, recalled her love of Hollywood and stars, then replied "Maybe you could be a movie star."

"Ya think so?"

"Well...maybe," he said evasively.

"I wish I'd been born a princess," she chirps.

"You're our lil princess," RJ tells her sweetly. Vera-Ellen giggles at that. Yeah, she sort of grows on you after awhile.

"This is what I call the Hoochmobile," declares Charlie as he showed off his newest creation: A Chevy/Ford amalgam body with a rebuilt supercharged V8 engine. Filled with secret compartments to cache illegal alcohol it was a bootlegger's wet dream. A little side project of Johnny's ever-enterprising adopted brother, shall we say. RJ's stepfather was all-too-eager for any new moneymaking venture considering the number of persons living in the house, usually numbering between six and fourteen at any given time.

RJ had helped and had a feeling of accomplishment. "I wanna ride in it," exclaimed Vera-Ellen. She was wearing an old pair of rolled-up jeans and a t-shirt. Someday she'd make quite a woman--Charlie smiled indulgently. He'd made himself useful helping Eve run her 'business' and he was a neverending source of new ideas. If only he didn't dress so weird, thought RJ.

Rufus followed his mother and uncle into the house half-listening to their chatting about the girls and their antics. "You know, I've sampled all the girls, but ain't had the Mistress yet," he spoke smoothly as if he was discussing the weather.

"Oh, I'm outta yer price range," quipped Eve.

"Maybe you could lemme have some on credit."

"Now Charlie, business partners shouldn't fraternize," she objected.

"But I need to know how to sell ALL the gals. How can I describe the finer points to prospective clients?"

"Well...since you put it that way," concedes RJ's mother. She can't possibly be serious! Rufus thought. Hand in hand they retired to Eve's bedroom.

"Cutter's a lucky man," said Charlie in bed as he struck a match and lit a cigarrette.

Eve, bare from the waist up laughs, her full round breasts bobbing above the sheets. She was a cynic when it came to men, even though she adored them. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

RJ, unable to contain himself or keep from listening out of curiosity, bursts in the room. "Ma, this ain't right! What would Johnny say?"

"He don't give a rat's ass," Eve shot back, outraged at the intrusion. "You think I can't think for mahself, is that it? I don't need you to watch over me, Rufus Johns."

"But Ma--"

"No buts, RJ!"

"Ma, really," RJ protests. "This is weird!"

"Oh get out you big lug," she declares. Disgusted, RJ stomps off.

"Son, it don't make a bit o' difference to me. You think my dick stays dry whenever she's busy," Johnny told RJ. He was repairing the barbed wire fences which kept the cattle on the premises. RJ had expressed his concern, and the older man appreciated the sentiment but he felt he was getting too worked up over it. "Crotchety ol' Hugo couldn't do a damn wthing with her, an' i know better n' to even try. Nobody can tell that un whut to do."

Still agitated, the lad goes to the tool shed to find something to fix. Otto comes and lays a great scarred hand on RJ's ever-broadening shoulder. As always a discerning source of comfort, Rufus was glad for his prescence. Tiny then scribbled a message on the little notepad he'd begun carrying in his pocket. "Don't worry abowt it. Just do yore own thing." RJ decided these were wise words.

RJ was startled awake by the sound of his mother's screaming, which he hardly recognized at first since his ma rarely screamed about anything. Flinging the covers off him he vaulted out of bed and sprinted to his mother's room. "Ned," she was gasping. "What're you doing? gack--" Charlie had reached the door just before RJ and flung it open. One of the clients of his mother's, a trucker named Ned Turner, was bent over Eve throttling her, his pants around his ankles. Naked and tangled in the bedsheets Eve flailed her arms and legs, losing air fast.

Acting quickly Charlie took hold of the Yankee's shoulder and tumbled him backwars, head over heels into the floor. RJ rushes to his beloved mother to find her gasping for air but she indicates she'd be all right in a moment.

"What in Sam Hell is going on," came Johnny's aggarvated voice as he enters the room.

"This motherfucker was strangling Eve," Charlie spat, his foot on Ned's chest preventing him from rising.

"You Yankee piece of dog shit," roars the clown. "String him up." Rufus obliges. "Evie, sweetie, you ok," whispers her husband squeezing her hand. She nods her head finally saying "He didn't wanna pay me, the cheapass."

"Oh we'll get payment," states RJ. He cracked his knuckles for emphasis. ned was dragged kicking down the hall by the giant teenager, bailing twine twisted round his neck. Eve throws a dress on and accompanies the menfolk outside in the dark. Vera-Ellen had awoken to the commotion and was rubbing her eyes sleepily. Seeing her mother so distressed and the purple handprints round her neck she surmised the victim had tried to hurt her mother. She smugly concluded he'd soon be punished.

"You won't get away with this," the Northerner vowed, eyes bugged out with fear.

"You pathetic fuck," croaked the affronted woman standing before Ned hanging from a tree branch, feet barely touching the dirt, struggling. "Bring me the horsewhip," she told Tiny who'd appeared. He shuffled back with the implement which she used on the trucker to utmost effect. Ned was sobbing and begging her to stop after twenty lashes or so. Her nostrils flaring and eyes wild Charlie stopped her, suggesting a fitting solution would be they bury him alive. He had little stomach for torture and murder in most cases but this act of violence to his sister-in-law enraged him. She took care of him and was his business partner and he considered her a friend. She was also one hell of a fuck.

In short work it was done--the other girls watching, locked in a crate the man was buried in the upper field and left to suffocate. Little did they know the truck driver had many friends who'd come looking for him.

Gramp Hugo slept through the whole incident, of course.