The Toast Point Bad Fiction Contest
proudly presents:
Last updated May 1, 1997
Last updated May 1, 1997
"Goddammit, Petunia", Sofie Mae snarled at her prize hog, "Ah tol' you not to knock over that trough agin". Sighing, she carefully opened the door to the pen, swatting Petunia on the snout to prevent her from getting out yet again. "Ah swear, for a pig who's got it made, you sure are an ornery bitch." The pig snorted a reply and resumed her eying of the now thrice-replaced gate. Petunia had been her cousin Floyd's prize hog, but he had sold it to her right before he left town, saying "Take care of mah baby, Sofie Mae". Trouble was, Petunia didn't take kindly to her new quarters and took every chance to make that clear to Sofie Mae.A quick grunt and the trough was righted and filled with slop, though her exertions and the sounds of her boots in the muck masked the sound of Flem's Pink Cadillac (Flammie gave him the first one to replace his 1975 Dodge Dart when she won the second, the one with the wet bar, but his frequent attempts at removing the Mary Kay symbol from the rear window had only succeeded in creating a large blind spot). However, his raspy cough behind her alerted her instantly. "This day is getting more addled than a blind frog in a henhouse." she sighed, "Flem Flaker, what the HELL do you want?"
"Afternoon, Miz Sofie Mae", Flem leered. "Lookin' mighty pretty today".
"Shut up, you horse's ass! I'm standing knee-deep in pig-plop!"
Flem coughed at the sinful word, but recovered. "I've come to bring you back into the fold, Sofie Mae - we-all miss ya at church an' all, and you'll find yourself doing the DEVIL'S work if you're not careful..."
Sofie Mae snorted as she watched Petunia finish the slop with a satisfied snort. "I ain't comin' back to that collection of lunatics you call parishioners ever! Not after what happened!"
Flem, having noticed Sofie Mae's laced blouse becoming undone with her exertions, decided to brave the inside of the pen. Opening the pen door, his voice dripping with syrup, he began his approach, "Now, Sofie Mae, you know that was not..."
Before Flem could finish, he found himself sailing through the air, propelled by an escaping hog. Making a two-point landing in dung with his backside, as Petunia made her move, he also found himself getting kicked by a furious Sofie Mae. "You goddamn fool!", she cried as she chased the hog out of the pen, taking a second to kick Flem once more on the way out. "Petunia, you bitch! Come back here!"
Flem had never seen a hog run that fast. As he squishily extricated himself from the muck, he was delighted as Sofie wheeled around, then stopped and reinserted her bosom into her blouse, lacing it up as she approached. "She's headed for Floyd's old place. I never seen a pig liked her house so much. C'mon, Flem, run me down there, you idiot."
Meanwhile, a mystified, but polite Bertie Lindenwood was serving cookies to a vibrantly-glossed Flammie Flaker.
"Ms. Flaker, you're just the woman I've been searching for. I find the sound of your voice very exciting!" he said, with what Flammie assumed was desire - as indeed it was, but not quite the kind she imagined. "Wait right here until I get what I need from the bedroom."
While thoughts of seduction, conversion, sainthood, and fame inflamed Flammie's brain, Bertie searched frantically for his tape recorder and a few fresh cassettes. Flammie was indeed what he needed to launch his study of the region's peculiar dialect, the better to prepare himself to write the definitive study of what he'd taken the liberty of calling "Hillbonics: The Grammar, Syntax, Vocabulary, and Pronunciation of West Virginia Dialectical Variations as a Subset and/or Digression of the Standard English Vernacular," the publication of which would establish his integrity as a linguist, guarantee his appointment to a full professorship at a prestigious Ivy League College, and impress his older brother who -as a successful used-car salesman - was forever belittling Bertie's academic interests.
As Flammie waited, her patience giving way to nervousness when Bertie seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time in the bedroom, she ate the rest of the fig newtons and contemplated how best to begin the seduction. After unbuttoning the top three buttons of her blouse and kicking off her shoes, she struck what she believed was a provocative pose in the open doorway, the better for the sunlight to glint off her artfully lacquered curls.
At that moment, Bertie - clutching his recorder - emerged from the bedroom, gaped in Flammie's direction, and muttered, "Omigod!" with what Flammie assumed was wild desire, but what was in reality a warning to Flammie to move aside as an enormous hog raced across the porch and toward the open door. Not heeding the warning - indeed, not knowing it was a warning to be heeded - Flammie was struck full force from behind by the desperate Petunia and knocked into Bertie, who fell beneath Flammie as Petunia galloped over them both and sought refuge under the bed. When Flammie came to, confused though she was, she was certain the earth had moved. Seeing Bertie beneath her, she thoughtfully asked, "Was it good for y'all, too?" but Bertie, still unconscious, was not the one who replied, "In God's name, Flammie, what have you done?!"
Flem, who had just now arrived with Sofie Mae and was already upset about the pig poop damage to his upholstery, couldn't believe his eyes!
Meanwhile, perched on his deer stand back on Widow's Peak, Samuel M. ("Slam") Dunkin watched his brother Kix pilot the patrol car down the precipitous mountain road and reflected that his brother had all the luck-an exciting job, a nice car that he didn't even have to make payments on, and the affections of the widow Marvella Maypole. Slam, whose life had been plagued by series of bad luck incidents, had never gotten over being fired from his job as basketball coach by the Widow's Peak school board who wanted to use the money they'd save by firing him to hire a math teacher. Slam had tried to explain that most of the kids would never even have any need for math-not having any money to count-but they'd always play basketball, but the school board just wouldn't listen to reason. He still bore a grudge against all the surviving members of the board-too bad about Maynard Maypole's mysterious cave-in accident, Slam chuckled to himself-and always kept his deer rifle loaded just in case he ran across any of the rest of them.
Just then, Slam heard - or thought he heard - something crashing through the trees on the north side of the peak. Suddenly, he recalled the stories Kix used to tell him about the Peak's Pike, a giant ghost fish with a taste for human flesh, that was rumored to rise from the lake and scale the peak while looking for its next victim. Slam tried vainly to dismiss the image from his mind-as a child, he always used to wet the bed when Kix told him those stories long ago-but the tell-tale dampness creeping down his legs told him that some things cannot be so easily dismissed.
"What were you doin' with that city feller!?" bellowed Flem, shaking Flammie with his excrement-encrusted hands and smearing her pink rayon party dress (which looked curiously out-of-place anyway in the daytime).
"What were YOU doin' with that Sofie Mae woman, rollin' around in her hog waller? Let go of me, you filthy..." shrieked Flammie, slapping Flem with all her might, sending Press-On Nails flying in every direction.
"Here now..." drawled Kix, delighted to have stumbled upon a reason to exert his authority as town guardian... "Both of you, up against the car! That's right, spread 'em!"
"Flem, you're gonna have to LICK this car clean..." muttered a furious Flammie as she complied, livid at the filthy state of her second-best caddy.
After a quick frisk, Kix soon had each Flaker handcuffed to a door handle of their respective Caddys. "What'n'hell are both of you squallin' about. Flem?"
"Well, I was visitin' Miss Sofie Mae, to get her to come back to the church 'n' all, but her hog escaped and ran down here, 's this place was Floyd's, y'see, and ..." Silenced from an evil glare by Flammie, Flem shut up.
"And you, Miss Flammie?"
"Well, I wuz here to discuss some things with Mr. Lindenwood..."
"In a party dress?"
Flammie looked frightened, then recovered. "I spilled somethin' on my jumper - this was the only thing I had in the house..."
Oblivious to the interrogation in progress in his driveway, Bertie slowly came to. With a groan, he got to his feet, not quite sure what happened, and rose to investigate the noises in his bedroom. "Miss Flammie, are you in there?"
The late afternoon sun shone strongly through his bedroom window, causing a Close-Encounters backlighting effect as Sofie Mae appeared in his bedroom doorway before he could enter. "Hi," she drawled, "A'm Sofie Mae Strunk. I'm your neighbor up the mountain. Can y'all help me get mah hog from under your bed?"
Bertie, no less stunned by the silhouetted beauty in his bedroom doorway than by the concept of a farm animal under his bed, replied with less than his usual articulation, "Ummm...OK..."
Noting that he still wasn't moving, Sofie gently guided him inside the bedroom with her hand. "Now you just grab the foot and lift it up, and I'll poke Petunia out this with here broom."
In a daze, he stood staring at her. Sofie jumped, realizing that her blouse had become undone yet again, and actually blushed as she realized that this gentleman was not your typical Widow's Peak resident, and might actually be worth knowing. Those kind eyes - although they were still spinning like marbles... "Come ON, Mr...."
"Um, Lindenwood, but you can call me Bertie, um..., ma'am...."
"Well, come on, then, help me out!" Sofie turned, blushing, realizing that she'd been staring a bit back herself.
"Gosh-a-mighty, Mr. Lind - ah, Bertie, Ah ain't never seen Petunia cotton to a man like she does to y'all. I reckon she must be in heat," Sophie Mae exclaimed, feeling a bit in heat herself for the object of her hog's desire. "Does y'all like hogs?" she inquired hopefully.
Bertie, unable to speak, managed a faint nod that Sophie Mae took for a yes but Bertie really meant as a signal for help as his head was the only part of his anatomy that was able to move. Sophie Mae, encouraged by his assent, flung herself onto the bed beside Bertie and Petunia just as Kix walked through the door to see if perhaps Bertie wanted to press charges against one or both of the Flakers.
"Hayl's bales!" exclaimed Kix. "It's one a them menagerie-a-troys I heard about but ain't never seen in action before! I had you figgered all along for one a them pre-verts, Mr. Lindamood and I see I wuz right! Takin advantage of a innocent gal and her pig! You ort to be ashamed!"
Petunia, sensing that her owner and her new-found friend were being threatened, leaped from the bed and butted Kix with enough force to propel him back through the bedroom door, through the house, down the steps, and into the side of Flammie's Caddy with enough force to put a slight dent in the left front fender.
While Ima June paused to take a breath and probably file another fingernail, Kix hopped in the car and sped off, still not noticing his daughter hiding in the floor of the back seat. As he sped away, he could hear the Flakers yelling something, but he figured they'd be fine still handcuffed to their cars and it wasn't like he was gonna need either set of his cuffs for the next hour or so.