Yeah, that’s right. Now check this out.”
“I’m sorry, Cam,” Willow says.
Maybe they’ll forget about me. I’m fine with that, though I need to piss.
“What about Doctor Box?” Willow says.
“Who?”
“The dead guy in the trunk.”
“Oh yeah! The guy you fucked last night. Thanks for reminding me!”
“We didn’t fuck anyone last night,” Willow says.
“Well, like I told the doc last night, after you confess, I’m gonna cut his dick off and sew it in your mouth.”
“What are you doing?” Willow says.
“This here’s called Black Toad. I’m rubbing it on my dick. You girls are gonna love this! It’s… holy shit!”
He yelps.
“What’s wrong?” Willow says.
“ Burns! It burns like fire! My dick’s on fire! Jesus, my dick’s on fire! I’m in flames! Oh, the humanity!”
“Why would you do that? What’s the matter with you?” Willow shouts.
“Shut up! Take your clothes off, both of you.”
“No way!”
“Are you kidding me? Look at the size of this cock! I’m gonna get my money’s worth out of you and Stringbean.”
He suddenly screams like he’s in excruciating pain. It makes sense the pain would come and go as the bufotenin gets absorbed deeper into his penis.
“Get naked, whores!” he yells.
“ No!” Willow says.
“I’m dead serious, bitch. Right now.”
“Fuck you!” Cameron shouts.
I hear a gunshot.
Cameron screams like she’s in pain.
Willow screams like she’s freaking out.
Bobby screams like his dick’s on fire.
The rest is hard to make out.
But when Willow screams, “She’s dying! Get the doctor out of the trunk!” it’s pretty clear Cameron’s been shot.
20
“Stay where you are!” Bobby shouts.
“Shut up, Bobby! She’s dying! Open the trunk.”
I hear him scream, “Oh, God!” then he falls to the ground and vomits violently.
Seconds later the trunk opens. It’s nearing dusk, so my eyes have no problem adjusting to the light.
“Get out!” Willow shouts. “Cameron’s been shot!”
She tries to help me, but Bobby staggers up behind her and grabs her by the hair. He pulls her backward and throws her to the ground. Tries to kick her but misses and nearly falls down. His chin and chest is covered in vomit.
There’s no avoiding his penis.
It’s black from powder and purple from pressure. It’s not only erect, but enormous, and maintaining an eighty-degree angle, which is to say, practically vertical. It’s also pulsing and throbbing, as if ready to explode.
Bobby sees me looking at him and shouts, “You bastard!”
He staggers toward me, but is forced to squat and shit a thick, wet stream that splats on the dirt beneath him, creating a little puff of steam.
“You think that’s funny?” he says.
“I think it’s hilarious! Do it again!”
As if on cue, he groans and shits a quart of black water in the noisiest manner possible.
“How’s that Black Toad working for you, fuckhead?” I say.
“I’m gonna kill you!” he shouts, seething with fury.
“Before you do, shit again, like the baboon you are.”
Still squatting, Bobby aims his gun at me and says, “You’re a dead man!”
“Maybe so, but at least my corpse will have balls.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I point at his crotch. “Your nuts disappeared.”
He looks down and frowns.
“You’re a dead man!” he shouts.
“You said that already.”
He sneezes, and a pint of black water spews and sprays from his ass.
He stands upright and stumbles toward me. He’s furious, in agony, but he’s not going to shoot me. Not before finding out if I slept with Willow.
Turns out I’m wrong about that.
We’re twelve feet apart when he pulls the trigger.
I have to look down to be sure he actually missed me from that distance.
He did.
Willow comes up behind him and kicks the back of his knees as he’s firing the second shot. Bobby hits the ground, writhing and blubbering, and I realize he’s shot himself in the upper thigh. He waves his gun around in the air, firing indiscriminately. A hundred yards away, on the main road, I hear something that sounds like a car crash. I look up instinctively, but Maggie’s house is blocking my view.
When Bobby’s gun is empty, I work my way out of the trunk and try to stand, but my legs are asleep. I fall back onto the edge of the trunk and sit there, rubbing my legs to get the blood flowing.
Willow yells at me to do something about Cameron.
“What about my leg?” Bobby whimpers.
“Throw the gun toward the house and I’ll see what I can do about your leg,” I say.
“You’ll kill me.”
“He won’t kill you,” Willow says. “He’s a doctor. He took an oath. He has to help you. It’s the law.”
She runs to Cameron’s side.
“That true?” Bobby says. “About the oath”
I sigh. “I’m afraid so.”
“Hurry, Dr. Box!” Willow shouts. “Cameron needs you!”
From somewhere behind me, Cameron hears her name and starts moaning.
To Bobby I say, “Throw the gun away and I’ll help you.”
“You swear?”
“Often.”
He throws the gun twenty feet away and moves his hand so I can see the wound.
As I approach he says, “Oh, my God!”
“It hurts, huh?”
“Yeah, sure, but what the hell is that stink?”
“I think you know.”
“ I did that?”
“You did.”
I’m moving slowly, as if crossing a minefield. Stepping carefully, doing my best to avoid the pools of
