Badass Farmers
Part 3- You're just using me for my body?
Katie was shoving cream cakes up Cecil's ass when Jamie burst in. Red faced and panting, he looked on the verge of tears.
"Get off my boyfriend you whore!" he cried, snatching a cream cake and smashing it into Katie's face. Dressed as a French waitress in black stockings, she screamed an udulation and fell upon Jamie. The two of them wrestled on the floor, throwing off clothing and smashing éclairs into one another. Lounged on his rotating love bed, Cecil lit up a spliff and had a willy wangle. Jamie knocked Katie out with his wang and stepped over her unconscious body.
"Hey blud wassup?" said Cecil nonchalantly.
"Cecil… were you… were you cheating on me?" Jamie, naked and covered in cream, asked tearfully.
"Yah man that biatch Katie wanted some creamy fun."
"But!" Jamie exclaimed, indignant now. "I'm your girlfriend!"
"Nah I never said that. You're banging good in bed but I don't do wine n' dine. Now do you wanna put that chocolate elair between ma fruit buns for me?"
But Jamie stood his ground. "Are you saying you're only using me for my body?"
"Nah nah your organizational skills are sick. I couldn't have got all these hoes without ya. Plus that poncho is very flattering."
"But I thought you loved—"
Before he could continue, Cecil shoved her wang down Jamie's throat.
"Shh, shh," he crooned.
Jamie resisted for only a few seconds. Then contentedly he sucked on it, like a baby on his bottle, eyes drifting closed.
"There there," said Cecil, before he burped Jamie on his shoulder. "Baby likes his milky."
Then he settled Jamie down under a blanket and tucked him in.
He stared at Katie, naked and unconscious on the floor. "Wake up," he said, nudging her with his foot. "C'mon," he whined. "C-mon."
The boys loved Eve. They loved her because she was always drunk, and because whatever you did to her one night- -even if she retained the cognitive ability to say no—she'd never remember the perpetrator in the morning. Eve had been the village's one dirty secret, selling herself long before Cecil had come onto the scene. She was poor wasted drunk Eve, mindlessly wandering the streets drinking, looking for punters where there were none, long gone to Cecil and his damned fresh-faced tight virginal whores. Peniless Eve, with her wasted good looks, saggy breasts and a smoker's cough like the grim reaper's death rattle. Worn and lined, and only twenty-one.
And she'd had so much hope, arriving in the village three years earlier, only to be sacked from the tavern for drinking on the job. Now, with all her competition, no man would touch her with a barge pole.
"You probably have chlamydia," Hank sneered.
"Yeah," said Eve, "you gave it to me."
Yes, Eve knew all the downsides these ignorant little girls would learn soon, that came from whoring yourself. They were stunned by the glamour, but she had seen the seedy side to prostitution. She knew the leaking, the oozing, the congealing. She knew what it was like to stink but not care anymore, because the whole world stunk. And most off all— to cry herself to sleep everynight, because she knew she'd never love a man again, after she'd seen what men were really like. Yes, Eve knew that prostitution was no laughing matter, certainly no basis for a humorous parody.
Then Eve slung off her dirt-encrusted thong and shook her oversized booty at the passing men.
She didn't get anywhere with it, and it was then she realised she'd have no choice but to get a job with Cecil.
To feed his ferocious habit, Cecil had two thousand acres of ganja. They were worked on by child slaves, working mechanically, chained together in lines as Saibara hit out a merciless beat on his steel drums. It was Eve's job, as an overseer, to make sure no child slacked and held back the line. The whip was the tool of the trade.
"You want to eat tonight?" screamed Martha, her colleague. "Then pick that damn ganja!" She hit the boy with her bamboo rod, and he burst into tears. "Crocodile tears won't help you now, honey," she sneered.
Hank drove past in his pick up truck, a gaggle of topless girls in the back. Nina saw Eve working in the field and stuck her middle fingers at her. Eve looked on expressionlessly, and Nina stuck her tongue out and made an L on her head. They drove away in a spiral of dust.
Eve began to wonder what the point of life was. What was the meaning of anything anymore? Her weak grip on sanity snapped like a wire. She grabbed a handful of unripe ganja and lit up, collapsing down into the dirt. Soon the children were all doing it, and the other overseers couldn't control them. They rolled around on the floor, shoving dirt into their mouths.
"Eve! What are you doing? Punish them!" screamed Martha.
"Fuck you, I'm a fish!" Eve yelled.
Martha picked up her walkie-talkie. "Cecil, we've got a problem in the fields; can you come over?"
The walkie talkie buzzed back; "I'm having a wank."
"Please Cecil. It's urgent."
But when Cecil came over, he only laughed, and lit up himself. Soon he was writhing around on the ground with the kids, soiling himself.
"See what you've done?" Martha screeched at Eve. "This is all your fault, whore!"
Eve punched her in the face. Then, she and Cecil decided it might be fun to strap an old lady to the railway tracks. Life in the village was so damn boring. She decided that maybe having him around wouldn't be so bad after all…
TO BE CONTINUED…