This is a sequel to The Nightly Routine a story I never intended to have another part.
Another day of abuse is over.
Another night of abuse is about to begin.
Somewhere along the path of life I fell into hole. The common advice for such being to get up and keep going but that implies you’ve hit the bottom. The hole I fell in had no bottom, no light at the end of the tunnel. Just falling further until I wasn’t sure there was a time when I wasn’t falling. To be carried lower by my own momentum but beyond my control. When forward and lower become indistinguishable form one another, is it not right to keep moving? To follow this path to it’s only conclusion?
Maybe even do a flip on the way down.
I shook my head to clear the divergent thoughts as I limped home from work. I went through the motions of my daily routine feeling more bitter than usual. Work had been nightmarish that day and my mind wondered to dark places. I tried to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and just kept putting one foot in front of the other.
I arrived at the rundown apartment building I called home and started the final climb up the stairs to the fifth floor. The sagging staircase spiraled up around the inside of the dilapidated building forcing me past all the other apartments. Most were unoccupied but the few tenants seemed quieter than usual which left the creaky floors and rattling pipes to cover the sound of distant sirens.
After I finally got to my apartment and unlocked the last lock on my door I stumbled in to find my landlord sitting in my chair. He was a short fat Italian with curly black hair and greasy skin. My fluffies were gone and there was no sign of their makeshift pin. Before I could fully process what was happening he jumped out of my chair and launched into a tirade. The long and short of it being that I was a sick piece of shit and he wanted me out that moment. I reminded him that I was paid up through the week and at least expected a refund. He laughed and told me to get a lawyer before gesturing to a large man skulking in the corner. He was missing teeth and covered with tattoos that looked like they were drawn with crayon.
“You can walk out or you can crawl but you’re leaving tonight.”, he said.
With no other choice I packed my clothes, toiletries, and the few other things I owned into four trash bags, leaving my furniture behind. My former landlord and his goon talked shit and laughed as I carried my things down the stairs.
“I put the word out about you, you twisted prick. Nobody 'ill rent to you around here now.”, He said.
“Huh huh, yeah.”, the goon laughed. I stayed quiet and kept my face expressionless.
“I called your fuckass job too. Let’s see how they feel about havin’ an animal abusin’ piece of shit on payroll.”, the squat dego said and sneered. That hurt more that I expected but I kept my mouth shut and kept walking. There was no point in getting my ass kicked by a greasy wop and his dollar store tough guy.
We exited the building and I kept walking as fast as I could while the greaseball berated me from the building entrance. I had stopped listening by that point, fuck him, like I wanted to live at that dump in the first place. I had been saving for a real apartment so I wasn’t completely destitute but I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I wasn’t sure if he really called my boss or if one accusation was grounds for termination. All I could be sure of was that I had nowhere to go that night and didn’t want to hang around that area.
I struggled down the sidewalk under the weight of everything I owned for several blocks before I found a shopping cart upturned and being used to save a parking space. I flipped it over, dropped my stuff in it and kept walking before someone who cared saw me. With few other options I lit a Swisher and started out of the neighborhood. As I heading closer to my job I looked for a dark corner to take a few hits of bath salt. My body screamed with pain as I walked and tried to come up with a plan but I was too exhausted to think straight.
I had no one to call.
I had no where to go.
All I could do was keep moving and hope I still had a job to go to in the morning.
After a few hours of walking in circles I finally collapsed in a narrow alley behind a dumpster. My feet were throbbing and my back was screaming with sharp grinding pain. I fumbled through my bag for my bath salt and a pipe which I loaded and took the biggest hit I could. I held it until my lungs burned and I had to take a breath. I took another big rip and did the same, power smoking my dinner until the pain finally faded. Usually a small bag was enough to get me through the night but as I was unsure when I could find another spot to indulge I finished the bag in one setting. Afterward I opened my MD 20/20 and tried to enjoy at least that but it was not to be.
A filthy monochrome blue fluffy with a shit-caked ass waddled out of the dark and had the fucking nerve to ask me for nummies. I stared unblinking into it’s purple glassy eyes and said nothing. The meat puppet kept repeating it’s stock lines,
“wowist tummy hurties, nee wuv, nee nummies, nee huggies, wan skettis. nise mistow? nise mistow? nise mistow? nise mistow? nise mistow? nise mistow?”
I grabbed it by it’s throat, it’s grimy fluff stuck to my hand, and I used my lighter to set it’s fluff on fire in several places. I waited a second for the flames to spread and I tossed the fluffy as hard as I could out of the alley and into the street. It screamed and flopped around releasing bursts of shit and piss as it burned. I guess it’s legs broke when it landed because it didn’t run away and I doubted fluffies knew to stop, drop and roll when on fire. As much as I wanted to watch it burn to death I knew I had to get away before someone investigated the screaming. I gathered up my stuff and moved quickly but was feeling better then I had all night.
Once I had a couple of blocks between me and the burnt fluffy I slowed my pace and allowed my mind to wander. I looked up at the moon and glanced around the street for potential trouble while taking swigs from my MD20/20. I mumbled out loud witty retorts I wished I had thought to say to my old landlord. I walked past several stores and stared at the window displays. One made me stop in my tracks, it was a display of Halloween costumes for fluffies and their owners. What the fuck? It wasn’t even September and this fucking fluffy boutique was selling fucking fluffy Halloween costumes! One of the human costumes was a pink sequined luchador get up stylized as a fluffy unicorn. I stared, disgusted, at the mask as it began to laugh at me. I tried to walk away but it the laughing grew louder. I walked back to the display and yelled at the mask,
“You don’t fucking know me!” It just wouldn’t shut up so I stomped in the window, grabbed the mask off the mannequin and stuffed it in the crotch of my pants. That shut it up!
It also triggered the store alarm.
I ran as fast as I could pushing the shopping cart and swinging around corners, cutting through alleys and across parking lots. Until I came to a small park with a few trees and I hid in there. I expected the cops to show up at any second but they never did so I hid there until the sun started to come up. With still no one around I finally finished my MD20/20 and stood up to throw the bottle in a trash can. A woman with a pink and white fluffy alicorn on a leash powerwalked past me and before I knew what I was doing I kicked the fluffy as hard as I could. The ornamental collar snapped as the fluffy flew through the air, shit sprayed in all directions as it tumbled. I yelled,
“BESTEST BUHBBY AM FWYIN!” and ran to get my shopping cart and run away through the other side of the park. What the fuck am I doing?
Do I want to go to jail?
I need to calm the fuck down!
First I need to run more!
When I charged out the opposite side of the park I noticed that the next two blocks at least were down hill and nearly empty. Without thinking I jumped on my shopping cart and rode it down the hill. I covered ground quickly and managed to keep the shopping cart on it’s wheels until it slowed to a stop in the middle of the road at least four blocks away from the park. I hopped off and ducked down the nearest alley laughing like a lunatic the whole time. I crossed several blocks through the alleys and only stopped when my alarm when off. I had to leave for work in an hour and I had no idea where I was at the moment.
I stopped to catch my breath and take stock of my situation. I was still wearing the work uniform I had worn the day before but sweatier and dirtier. My hair was a mess, my sneakers were soaked with sweat and I stunk of cheap cigars and cheaper wine. I needed to find a place to clean up. As I stepped out of the alley I saw a gas station across the street almost like an answered prayer. I crossed the street and asked to use the restroom, the clerk looked down his nose at me and said,
“Around the side. It should be open unless it’s occupied.” Then he dismissed me with a gesture in the general direction of the restroom. Thankfully it was unlocked and I quickly washed up as best I could in the small space. I changed my clothes and the pink luchador mask fell out of my pants. I was about to throw it in the trash can but at the last minute I stuffed it in my backpack. It would be a good reminder to keep my shit together. I had enough money in the bank to rent another room and as long as I still had a job I would be ok. When I was done in the restroom I checked my location on my phone and was pleased to realize that I was only a few blocks from work. I figured I could hide my stuff behind the dumpster at work for my shift and set up a new room during my lunch break. By that night I’d have a new place and after that I could find some more shitrats and get back to my routine. Everything would be alright.
I got to the TacoKing where I worked almost a half hour early and stashed my stuff behind the dumpster as planned. When I walked in the door every employee turned and stared at me. I waved weakly and continued in to make a cup of coffee but the shift supervisor, Rob, came out from behind the counter and cut me off.
“Look bro I hate to tell you this but you’re fired.”, Rob stated bluntly. Rob was a decent guy and didn’t believe in bullshiting people. He was the only person at my now former job I didn’t hate. “It came down from the owner.”, he explained, “It ain’t right to fire someone for what they do off the clock but I hear the owner is a crazy fucking hugboxer.” He walked me out the door and handed me a business card as he explained, “My uncle runs a storage place if you need somewhere to keep your stuff. He might even have some work if you want it.” I took the card and thanked him, he smiled and wished me luck before going back in.
Well shit.
I grabbed my cart and started walking but I wasn’t sure where to go. I had no reason to stick around this side of the city and after last night’s tantrum
probably a few reasons not to. I looked at the card Rob had given me and looked up the address, the place was clear across the city and wouldn’t be open until noon. It was just past 7am. With nothing to do but kill time I found an alley to sit down in and plan. I could afford another room for a week or two but without a steady job I wouldn’t be able to keep it. I also didn’t want to end up with an hours long commute so I decided that I needed a job first. I soon realized that I could probably hit TacoKing for unemployment since, legally, I don’t think they can fire me for trashing an apartment. Which really, again legally, was the worst thing I could be actually be accused of. Knowing it would take weeks either way I filled out the paperwork online, on my phone while waiting for businesses to open. It killed time which as all I needed it to do. After 8am I left the alley and headed to the Korean deli where I bought my nightly provisions. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever come back to this neighborhood and decided to stock up for a few days. I wasn’t sure if anywhere else in the city actually still sold bath salts that weren’t for bathing. After loading up I left the neighborhood keeping my head down as I pushed my shopping cart.
I walked through the morning meandering in the general direction of the storage place while pecking at my phone. I tried to convince myself that this could be an opportunity for something better then my old routine but the funny thing about routines is that they’re comfortable. You don’t realize how great it is to know where and when you’re next rest is until you don’t. I wonder if that’s how the fellas in jail get by, thankfully I hadn’t sank that low.
A little after noon I called Rob’s uncle, a gruff sounding man with a Boston accent answered the phone,
“South Street Storage how can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m looking for a storage unit. I got your number from Rob.”, I answered.
“Oh yeah. You’re lookin’ fer work too, ah?”
“Yes sir.”, I said. He laughed,
“Sir ‘e says, that’s fuckin’ rich! You mind workin’ under the table? I got a few thin’s need doin’, nothin’ steady though.”
“Sure, what do you need done?”, I asked, it was better than nothing and worst case scenario I could probably crash in the unit a couple of nights.
“Drop by the lot this afternoon and we’ll work somethin’ out.”, he told me.
“I’ll be there in a little while.”, I said, more excited then I should have been.
“Ay.”, he grunted and hung up. He sounded like a fucking peach of man. I hoped I knew what I was getting into.
I got to the storage lot a few hours later around 3 or 4pm and found a barreled-chested, red faced old man sitting outside the office smoking a cigarette. I introduced myself and his bear paw of a hand swallowed mine in a gross parody of a hand shake. I recognized his Boston accent from the phone as he introduced himself as Rob, apparently it was a popular name in their family. I left my cart at the office and he got up and led me down a driveway between two rows of concrete and aluminum storage units. As we walked he explained that technically all of his units were occupied but had several delinquent accounts that needed dumping. One unit in particular was of special concern and that was the one he was talking me to first.
I recognized the epervesence of cat piss and chemistry as we approached the unit but when he opened it the smell hit me like a wall. I stepped back and covered my mouth and nose with my shirt as I said without looking,
“Well, that’s a meth lab.” Rob wasn’t handling the smell any better so we walked back about twenty feet. Even from that distance the fumes burned my eyes and throat.
“So you understan’ my problem?”, Rob asked but kept talking before I could answer. “If I call the authorities they’ll shut me down for months to investigate and it’ll cost me almost a million to get this cleaned up proper.” We walked further from the unit, enough to breathe a little easier but the reek wafted outward like a miasma. Rob continued, “If you can get rid o’ this mess I’ll set up with a unit free of charge for the next six months. After that we’ll work out somethin’ for the other units." That was alot worse then I had imagined and I had to think hard on the offer. I asked,
“Do have a vehicle I can use and a place to dump this shit? What about a respirator?” He pointed at an old white painter’s van at the end of the row and answered,
“You can take that and I’ve got a mask in the office.” I started working out a plan before I agreed to do the job as such I explained it to Rob as I made it up. His only question was,
“So you’ll do it?”
“Yep.”
Rob and I walked back to the office for the mask and van keys. The basic plan was to load up the van with the worst chemicals first and dump it late at night and spread out over several areas. It would take a few days to get it completely cleaned out but that seemed the safest way to me.
The mask Rob had was a European military surplus gas mask that he found online. I couldn’t help but laugh. He handed me the van keys and gave me the pass code to the gate so I could let myself in and out over night. He also warned me about the surveillance cameras all over the lot and encouraged me not to abuse his trust. With the plan set I got the van and moved it over to the unit. I took a few minutes to silently lament the situation I found myself in and to decide what needed to go first. I dug around the unit looking for additional safety gear that I figured the previous tenant must have used. I only found a pair of big rubber gloves but it was better then handling the leaky chemical containers barehanded. In addition to the actual meth lab and chemicals I found a small generator, a few rebuilt power tools and a box of dildos.
Fucking weirdos.
There were cut sections of various piping, some plumbing some car parts. Lots of oily rags and paper towels stuffed in bags. It was a miracle that this place hadn’t gone up already. There was a lopsided workbench buried under a pile of mixed appliance parts and motors, it was probably a few hundred dollars worth of recyclable materials. I was beginning to think this could be a blessing in disguise as I looked through the drawers of the work bench.
Jackpot! At least two pounds of yellowed crystal meth and a stack of grimy fiftys.
Jesus Christ, hallelujah, praise the fuckin’ lord.
I scooped out some of the meth in a metal pipe cap and put the rest back in the workbench and covered it with junk. The money went in my pocket and I put a pinch of meth under my tongue. With a new found vigor I loaded the van up with the worst chemicals and most obvious parts of the lab. After that I just had to wait for dark but as I waited my mind started drifting to a dark place. It occurred to me that I had gallons of untraceable potentially explosive, flammable and otherwise toxic materials and I wondered if my old landlord ever fixed the basement window.
Sometime after midnight I found myself in a nondescript van full of caustic chemicals outside of my old apartment building. I drove around back and looked for the basement door. The plan was to shimmy through the window and open the basement door then I would dump the meth lab and give an anonymous tip to the police in a day or two. It sounded good until I found the basement door was chained and padlocked from the outside. I cussed under my breath but looked for the broken window anyway. Time for plan B I guess. Once I found it I started throwing everything that would fit through the window, trying to get it as far in as I could while still being quiet. Suddenly there was a rustling in the trash behind me, I froze until a familiar voice squeaked,
“d-duhddy?” I turned around and smiled when I saw one of my fluffies cautiously watching me.
“Fluffy!”, I whispered happily. I never bothered to name my fluffies. I opened my arms and the yellow adult male earthy trotted over to hug me, I went with it and asked, “What happened to the rest of you?” The fluffy smiled and said,
“com oot fwuffies duhddy am com bak to sabe fwuffies!” Slowly my fluffies came out from behind a bunch of trash cans and made their way over to me. It turned out that my old landlord, after pontificating about me being an abuser, had just released my fluffies into the street and tried to chase them off. What a cunt.
“aww fwuffies nee nummies. hab wostes tummy hurties. muhmmas nu eben hab miwkies fo buhbbies!”
“That’s terrible.”, I said. “Well don’t you worry, daddy will get everybody nummies!” The fluffies cheered and I had to quiet them down. Using a board I found in the trash as a ramp I shepherded them into the van. I took stock of the fluffies and noticed a few new ones but was missing a few foals as well. I selected several older fluffies and explained that there were nummies in the dark place and they needed to find them but I would give them something that would help. I mixed a few chemicals together in soda bottles in certain proportions knowing they would combust in about thirty minutes give or take. Then I duct taped the bottles to the fluffy’s backs and gently dropped them into the basement. After a few words of encouragement to the fluffies I got back in the van and drove off. The fluffies in the van bitched about the vroomy munsta and asked inane questions that I placated by telling them we were going to get special mama nummies. Tacos.
A short time later I arrived at my former job and drove around the building once to make sure it was empty. I hadn’t planned on this but it seemed too easy to pass up. Somehow I almost forgot about the cameras and was still wearing my old uniform from that morning. In an act of desperation I retrieved the pink pegasus luchador mask from my backpack and put it on then stripped down naked except for my shoes then I put on the rubber gloves. I took a moment to put a pinch of meth under my tongue and form the barest bones of a plan. I used a pipe to break out the bottom panel of glass on one of the doors. I knew the alarm would only go off if the door frame opened. I unloaded the rest of the chemicals through the missing panel and made several more incendiaries which I again taped to fluffies and sent them in to find the nummies. Once they were out of sight I stuffed the hole in the door with a trash bag full of oily rags to make sure none of the fluffies wondered out. I got back in the van, got dressed and started seeing flashes go off inside the restaurant. That was faster than I expected. I took off the mask and left the neighborhood as quickly as I could without drawing attention to myself. I stopped briefly in another neighborhood to drop off the remaining equipment in a dumpster and started heading back to the storage lot. Well, I made one final stop for some gas and Sketi-Oh’s. Before fluffies had been stress toys but now I knew they could be weapons and I intended to take care of my weapons.
It was about five a.m. when I parked the van in front of the unit that had housed the meth lab. I opened the unit and looked for something I could use as a plate but found nothing. I let the remaining fluffies out of the van and opened several cans of Sketi-oh’s and dumped the contents on the concrete driveway. The fluffies attacked the pile of food with no regard for temperature or presentation and as I watched them eat I felt hungry too. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate food but almost on a whim I opened a can and chugged it like a thick protein shake before I popped another pinch of meth. A few of the meatpuppets looked at me and giggled before getting back to eating. The food weighed heavy in my stomach and would have left me drowsy if not for the meth. I popped some more under my tongue because now was no time to sleep. I had just committed two acts of arson and I needed a plan. I wasn’t sure if I should keep my head down and hope or if I should try to get out of town. Either way I refused to roll over and die. I opened up the unit and finally loaded up a pipe with a mixture of meth and bath salt then took a small hit which was fortunate because that. Was. Some. Goooood. Shit.
I tore through the storage unit slapping together pieces to make some impromptu weapons. One was a gas engine powered sawsall with a horse cock dildo wrapped in rusty barbed wire instead of a saw. Sure it looked funny but I reasoned that it had enough power to do some real damage. I also build a pneumatic cannon to shoot dildos at a high enough velocity to at least crack a rib. It sounds ridiculous. I could have built a zip gun far easier but I didn’t have shotgun shells, I had a box of old dildos and fluffies. They made good smart bombs but I wondered how else I could use them as I hit the pipe.
I stashed my arsenal in the van and hid the meth inside the passenger seat before I started loading the left over crap. I would have to wait for morning if I was going to try to recycle the metal. After that I could start actually cleaning the unit and move my few things in. After that I wasn’t sure what I would do but I could think of a few places that could use a visit from me and my friends. This city had shit on me my whole life maybe it’s time for some sorry poopies of my own.
The fluffies had finished eating and were curled up sleeping or feeding their foals who slurped desperately at the mama’s crochtits. There’s a special place in hell for the geneticist who came up with that shit. I looked away trying to hide my disgust but still felt my stomach lurch. Despite that I felt an unfamiliar sensation as a smile spread across my face. I Imagined other targets, some were personal other were to make a statement. I took another hit and thought, Rest now you horrid shitrats soon we go to war because revenge best served fluffy
…with sketti on the side.
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A middle aged man sits behind a large mahogany desk in a well appointed home office with a look of disgust and weariness etched across his face. He drains the last sip of brandy from a crystal snifter, taking no pleasure in the act. On the desk sat a computer monitor and a pillowed adult stallion which was undersized yet healthy. It was attached to a special bed/base by hidden tubes which emptied the contents of it’s bowels and bladder into the base. It made for easy cleaning, limited odors, and robbed the fluffy of it’s ability to piss and shit but left it permanently attached to the bed. Two bottles were hung in front of the stallion, one with water the other with a slurry of vitamins and nutrients, from a stand attached to the bed.
Together they watched a surveillance video from a fast food establishment that had become quite popular online. In the video a nude man in a gaudy mask herded several fluffies into the building, the fluffies went straight for the kitchen before exploding into flames. The remainder of the video was burning fluffies running around spreading flames that eventually igniting several containers which exploded.
The man felt the corners of his mouth curl up into the vaguest hint of a smile as he leaned back in his chair as said,
“Well this is amusing.” before he flicked the fluffy in the nuts. Hard.
FWACK!
“Nue hwrt fluffy’s no-nos!”
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“Dude come here! Check this shit out!”, a large man in his 40’s hollered across the garage. A huge dark purple alicorn fluffy with a steel horn hopped over the pet fence surrounding his play area and trotted over to his bro, who was sprawled out on the couch. The alicorn climbed on the couch as the beefy guy restarted the video on his phone and held it up so they could both watch.
The video was a security tape that was leaked on the internet and went viral. In it some skinny naked fag in a wrestling mask guided a bunch of fluffies into a Tacoking after dark. After the fluffies were in he rolled canisters of some shit into the restaurant then shoved a trash bag in the hole behind them.
“whut da fwck?”, asked the fluffy alicorn.
“Wait for it dude.”, the human answered. The tape continued for a few minutes with the fluffies wandering around the dark kitchen. Then they exploded one by one, splashing burning chemicals all over the restaurant and setting off the canister bombs which ended the video. The fluffy scrunched his face in disgust and confusion as he looked at the human and said,
“dood, dis am pwitty fwcked up wite here.”