His interview was at eleven. But with Bonnie and Clyde trapping him in his apartment, it might as well be never.
BONNIE AND CLYDE
"What are we going to do?"
The plaintive wail outside his first floor apartment awakened him. Damn! Bonnie and Clyde were back.
"I really don't need this shit - today of all days," Brendan Stewart thought as he rolled out of bed.
He glanced over at his alarm clock. It was seven o'clock. His interview was at eleven. But with Bonnie
and Clyde trapping him in his apartment, it might as well be never.
"For God sake, why do they keep ignoring us, Clyde?"
Brendan stumbled to the bathroom with his job interview on his mind. He had to land this job. He only had two
months of cash reserves left. After that was gone, his only option was moving back in with his parents. And now,
on top of everything else, he had to get past these two. He needed a plan.
A good shower cleared his head some but he was still antsy. If push came to shove, he knew he would have to
face his fears. He couldn't keep cowering in his apartment every time these two bastards showed up.
His heart picked up a beat; he couldn't hear them. Had they left? He tiptoed to his living room curtain and pulled
it back just enough for a peek. Fuck! Bonnie was down on her knees blowing Clyde. Clyde hadn't made a peep.
Clyde never makes a peep. He must be a mute. Brendan had given up hope of ever hearing Clyde utter the
young blonde's name. He decided the name "Bonnie" was just as good as any.
Bonnie was deep into her sword swallowing act: eyes red and bulging, snot bubbles forming in her nostrils.
Brendan could see the outline of the head of Clyde's long, thick snake going deep into her throat, no doubt
crushing her tonsils on the way down. Beads of sweat were shining through his buzz cut. Sweet agony spread
across his face as she slowly pulled his cock out to catch a breath, lightly licking the head on the way out,
followed by unimaginable ecstasy as it plunged back down her throat again. Brendan's dick was in his hand
before he knew it. Just once he would like to know what that felt like. He wanted to be Clyde in the worst way as
he watched Bonnie's saliva sputter everywere as she choked down Clyde's snake.
"I don't have time for this shit," Brendan muttered unhanding his dick. It was eight o'clock; He had just three hours
to get downtown. He hurriedly dressed, had a light breakfast of cereal and toast. It was eight-thirty; mothers
will be walking their kids to the elementary school up the block, and maybe he'd catch one of his neighbors on the
way out; that should be more than enough cover. He grabbed his satchel and headed for the lobby.
"I know you see me bitch!... You wish you could get fucked like this!" Brendan took a quick peek through glass of
the lobby door. Bonnie and Clyde's clothes were strewn about the lawn as if a stiff wind had blown them off a
clothesline.Clyde's sweaty muscular torso gleamed in the early morning sunshine, his knees rutting the lawn as
he impaled Bonnie with abandon.
"Fuck," Brendan cursed under his breath. Bonnie was facing the wrong way. Her head was cocked to the side
facing the lobby door. A mixture of pain and pleasure was imprinted on her face as she thrusted her hips up to
meet Clyde's every stroke.There was no way the processional to the elementary school would be enough of a
distraction. Brendan definitely needed a neighbor to walk him out now; someone to carry on a conversation with.
He would never get by Bonnie by himself. He turned his attention to the stairwell, listening intently for for the echos
of footfalls. As the minutes passed his anger built. He would give it five more minutes, then head for the gate. Fuck
the consequences!
"Why can't they see us, Clyde?" The sound of the Bonnie's voice was weaker. Brendan rushed back to the lobby
door. They were on the sidewalk headed across the street. Thank God! Brendan waited until they were out of
sight and then practically floated as he ran to the bus stop.
After a couple of bus transfers and the metro rail Brendan made it downtown with twenty minutes to spare. He was
thanking his good fortune when he was gut punched a half a block from his interview.
"I know you see me!" A huge middle-aged naked black male with build of an NFL lineman, complete with a paunch
in his midriff, held a petite redhead by her hair, slinging her like a rag doll. Brendan had to keep walking toward the
scene - there was no telling who might be watching him.
"Somebody get him off of me!" The readhead pleaded in an slight southern drawl. She was trying in vain to free
herself. her naked body, blotched red from the near noonday sun, was frantically flailing about.
"Shut up bitch!" The black man shouted giving her a teeth rattling slap, his huge hand easily catching her whole
face.Brendan was trying to ignore the whole scene as he neared them, but it was taking quite an effort. He caught
a glimpse of the man's semi-erect dick swinging between his legs.
"Nobody's dick is that big," he thought. He fought the urge to take a second look.
"Ima fuck her, missa Charlie! Split her into. You better stop me." Brendan was now close enough to see the spittle
in the corners of the man's mouth. The readhead, still half dazed from that slap was barely able to keep her feet. A
few more feet and Brendan would be past the spectacle and home free. He had some cover but not as much as he
wanted. To his left was a short, strawberry blonde man, with big ears and a cheap suit. To his right a tall, fat, bald
man in an expensive suit strided with confidence. He wished their positions were reversed.
"Nooo!" Brendan flinched at the gut wrenching scream of the readhead as the black man plunged into her. Brendan
fought to keep his composure; he was too close to make a mistake now.
"Shut up and take this dick, bitch! I warned you, missa Charlie, didn't I? Oh, and this is some good pussy, missa
Charlie! I can see why you didn't want a nigga to have none. Nothing but white pussy for me from now on. There
be brown babies everywhere." The redhead was wimpering and repeatedly murmuring "mommy" over and over
again.
Brendan sighed relief as he passed, and was now just a few steps from the lobby of building he was to have his
interview.
"Niggers, huh?" Brendan turned to the short guy. Shit!.
"Gotcha! You see me. Keep walking and look straight ahead. Wouldn't want that crazy buck following us, now
would we?"
"Ima fuck her in the ass, missa Charlie!" Brendan heard before they turned the corner of he building.
"Nooo!" cried the the readhead. The slap sounded as if Brendan was right next to them.
"Shut up, bitch! Who gave you a vote?"
"Don't worry, young man. I'll reward you for your troubles. I just need to get home," said the little man. He stuck
out his hand. "My name is Kiimpu." Brendan ignored his hand.
"Are you going to reward me with a job? Because that's what you just cost me."
"You weren't going to get that job, young man. It was filled this morning."
"Don't talk to me. I'll take you home and then we're done, okay? Just don't talk to me."
Brendan was steaming with anger the entire trip to Korea Town. And every time he looked over at the little man
he got angrier.
The little man's neighborhood had the looks and the size of a movie lot. Brendan didn't even know this neighbor-
hood existed. A couple of blocks of matchbook - sized houses and neatly trimmed lawns stood in open defiance
to the high rises and office buildings that had sprung up around them, drawfing them in size.
Kiimpu's welcome mat had the remnants of police tape strewn across it.
"I have keys in the back," Kiimpu said?
He led Brendan around back through a wooden gate to a patio surrounded by plants. This guy had one hell of a
green thumb.Spare keys were hidden in the soil of one of the potted plants. There was one strip of police tape lying
on the patio in front of the back door as well. Brendan opened the door - the beeping of the alarm started his heart
racing.
"1137. That's the code." Brendan entered the code and the beeping stopped. He let out a sigh of relief. A god
awful stench burned a trail into his nostrils with his next breath. The smell of death had settled in on the place like
bay area fog.
"There's tuna sandwiches and cokes in the fridge," the little man said. Was he kidding?
"No, thank you." Breathing was becoming a chore. Brendan just wanted to get out of there.
"Come on. Let's get your money." Kiimpu walked right by the white body outline without giving it a glance and led
Brendan down the hall to his bedroom.
"Looks like you've been picked clean," Brendan said. "What the thieves didn't get, I'm pretty sure the cops have
booked into evidence." Brendan was prepared to walk away empty handed. He didn't care. He just wanted fresh air
and lots of distance from this house.
"One place is always safe from godless bastards." He pointed to a huge bible on his night stand. "John 3:16."
Brendan turned to the passage to find five crisp one-hundred dollar bills bookmarking it.
"Thank you," Brendan said, turning to see he was alone in the room. He stepped into the hallway and saw Kiimpu
lying inside the outline, weeping. Brendan hated this part. He slowly tiptoed past him trying not to disturb him in his grief.
"Freeze! Police! Let me see your hands!" Brendan slowly raised his hands, trying not to even breathe. It looked like he was
going to spend the night in jail.
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