SINNERS IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY SQUID

The following series of posts are potential excerpts and/or inclusions to my upcoming novel, Chasing Phantoms.
In between chapters/stories, there are a number of bizarre segueways involving a Zen-like crime lord called The Squid, and his young ne'er-do-well apprentice, Andrew. The only background that you need is that they are holed up in an abandoned (and potentially haunted) hotel building.
Now, I shouldn't need to tell anyone at this point that my posts are "adult." But this time...I mean, DAMN. If you think my rants are obscene, just wait til you get a load of my fiction. Reader discretion is advised...even by my standards.

.
.
.
PROFANE + PROFOUND = PROGRESS

***

When Andrew—the sullen student—returned from his heavy trod abroad among the heavily trodden broads of Bourbon, The Squid—the tweaking teacher—was prepared. Two dirty pillow cushions lay upon the floor, The Squid’s old, ragged rump upon the one facing the door. Andrew entered in, and took a grimy seat. They sat across from one another, now, and stared as if to meditate—though they were truly only spaced-out from the drugs. Junkies do that, sometimes.
Class among those without it had begun.

“Andrew,” spoke The Squid, “I want to teach you about love and the power of blindness.”

Andrew nodded as if he really wished to hear—as if he had a choice.

“Now Andrew, I once dated a blind girl, long ago...her name…ah, her uh—mmmh—excuse me,” The Squid coughed, then cleared his throat, amid a reminiscing gaze that clearly longed for yonder decades yore, and poon-tang of the past, “Her name was Jo Beth. Ah, Jo Beth… She’d been blind from birth. It was a wondrous thing, I tell you: She was beautiful, and yet she didn’t know. I was the same pug-faced bastard I’ve always been, and yet she didn’t care. Her creepy glassy stares would freak me out sometimes, and her dog kept pawing at my stash, but ultimately it was heaven on my cock.”

“The dog?!” Andrew croaked.

“Um…no. The girl. You see, Andrew, blind girls give great head—best fucking blowjobs I’ve ever had.”

Andrew’s ears perked up.

“Now, one night we were swapping drizzle and slapping flaps quite hard and heavy, when a sudden notion hit me as I lotioned up her ass. I like to see girls play with bright red dildos—it’s always been a fantasy of mine. I asked her if she had a bright red dong. And you know what? She said she didn’t know! So she rustled beneath her bed and pulled out her sex toy box. Indeed she had a gigantic jelly dong. But there was a problem, Andrew: This dong was a tacky purple—and purple is just wrong. “

Andrew blinked mysteriously, and cocked his head.

Nothing—and I mean nothing, Andrew—that goes into a pussy should be purple like a syphilitic dick. It also shouldn’t have nasty stains and be covered with dog hair, but that is another issue altogether. The point is that her purple dong offended me; it turned me off completely—and Andrew, this woman had tits like Carrie Fischer in Return Of The Jedi, and an ass like Suzanna Love in Ulli Lommel’s Brainwaves.”

"I’ve never seen Brainwaves,” said Andrew, unenlightened as of yet. “Who’s Suzanna Love?”
“Oh—she’s that hottie in all the Lommel films, you know, like The Boogey Man and The Devonsville Terror. And uh, let’s see…um, oh, there was that Cocaine Cowboys movie with Andy Worhol and…um…uh—oh yeah—Olivia! You can’t forget Olivia. She totally screws the juices out of this one guy, and then snuffs the bastard. God, I almost stuck my penis through the screen…”

Andrew intervened like a rehab Special Friend, “Uh…sir…I, uh…you know, I get the point….”

“Ah yes. Sorry about that. Been awhile. I’ll have to have Kayla do that thing with the mirror shard later tonight. God, she hates that. I’ll need more dope. Oh—did you want some dope, Andrew?”

“Not right now, sir. Please, go on.”

“Alright, where was I…oh, yeah. So my hot blind girlfriend is trying to arouse me with a purple jelly dong—a fucking purpledong! The humanity! And then she had the nerve to kiss me. And then, she pulled me closer to her, and whispered in my ear. She said, ‘My love, there is no purple in my world. Try to see this moment through my eyes.’ And I said, ‘I can’t see anything through your eyes—you’re fucking blind!’ And then…she shushed me—she put her finger on my lips and shushed me! And she said, ‘Close your eyes, my darling.’ So I closed them, and kept them closed—like a nodding puke-spout trainspotter, or an 80’s balladeer. I heard the ‘splich’ noise of her straddling the dong. Our lips locked like a busy bathroom stall, tongues transmitting to tonsils torrid telegrams, amid each tender flick and tickle…”

Andrew noticed The Squid stroking a certain sort of sad lump swelling beneath his pants leg; it squirmed with menace as if seeking to escape its sweaty prison, snug between a salty, faded patch of pocket cloth and the clammy ham fandango of the old man’s sickly thighs. Andrew sought to avert his violated gaze, but when he looked up, The Squid’s fully erect nipples—visible even through his wine-stained button-down—metaphorically poked him cruelly in the peepers. Andrew took a deep breath, then again.

The Squid continued, “ Yes…each push of…oh, Andrew—good idea, yes—close your eyes! I can tell you’re getting into this. Anyway, both of us sightless and necking, she wrapped one arm around me—drawing me ever closer—and with her other hand guided mine. She guided my fingers up and down that greasy purple dong, as she pulled it in and out of her kid spigot. And it was then I realized that there was no purple dildo, because there was no purple. And there wasn’t any dog hair, either. There was only she and myself—the two of us—and the passion of the moment…and whatever images I gave it in my mind.”

Andrew nodded, eyes still closed, and dreaming of places happy, nowhere near the place he was.

“It was then I was enlightened. My mind was right. My heart was lifted. My dong was red. And then I spackled gack across her tits.”

Something clicked in Andrew’s mind. It almost had the twitch of timeless truth, or a drug-related stroke was coming on. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell.

“Now Andrew, here is what I learned—there is nothing truer I can tell you: The Power Of Love makes a dog-haired, splooge-stained purple dong into smoothest silk and the color of our dreams. The Art Of Dreaming is but a canvas for the Power Of Blindness, which sees beyond infinity with the sharp and soaring focus of the eagle, that it might build its nest with that top-shelf smut of the cosmos, giving piece of ass and peace of mind, and a boner beneath the raincoat of our very souls.”

Andrew sat in awe. Actually, he sat on a filthy cushion; but in the animistic sense, that cushion, just the same, might as well have been in awe, as the young man perched atop it felt he was.

“In closing, Andrew, my boy, remember this: that imagination and inner vision is like a page ripped out of God’s own Hustler; that Darkness shall reveal those things which Light cannot; that everything is perspective, and perspective changes all; and lastly, that blind chicks give great head.”

Andrew scarcely had words: “Sir, that was…inspiring. I mean, it actually was…inspiring. Shit.”

The Squid grinned a sagely Master’s Grin. Then, ponderously, his thoughts—now trailing off—took words, wispy with reflection: “Indeed; I never forgot, you know, and devotedly sought to utilize these truths in my very next relationship, with…Joan. Yes, that was her name…Joan. Ah, Joan… Sadly, things didn’t work out near as well…”

Andrew nodded reassuringly. “Was she not as enlightened as Jo Beth?”

The Squid solemnly nodded in return, “No… No, she wasn’t. But then, I had to blind that one myself.” He then rose up from his nappy perch, and offered his young protégé a hand, which Andrew declined to notice until it was withdrawn, as those last words began to churn and register. The Elder shrugged and kept forward. “Ah well,” he sighed. “Live and learn, Andrew. Live and learn.”

And with that, The Squid—the avatar, the wise man—buggered off, and out the door. Meanwhile, Andrew—the pupil, the neophyte—sat in stunned silence and trepidation, dazed, frightened, enlightened, and in marvel at it all.

)+(