Life’s Crucible

It was a quarter past eight. I was late for class. The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Dad’s dead. Get over here,” my brother said hysterically.

“Wait, what?”

“The ambulance are on their way. Dad died. Get your ass over here?”

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Love, Sex and Rock Hard Dead

Billboards of John Stubblefield’s crime scene were posted up around the table. One poster of his motionless naked body laid in a pool of blood on the checkered linoleum floor with anal beads wrapped around his neck.

“It doesn’t seem like there was a struggle, what was the cause of death? Ass-phyxiation,” said Judge Sam.

Everyone laughed except Seymour.

“Cause of death is exsanguination. The kitchen knife that was missing from the kitchen was jammed in his rear-end tearing the inferior rectal artery causing severe blood loss, ” Coy, Seymour’s lawyer said.

“Damn, that’s a shitty way to die,” said Judge Sam Lash.

Kelly rolled her eyes and said, “A little after 10 I went to the market. When I came back he… he… was on the floor, dead.”

Kelly twirled her index fingers together.

“It wasn’t me, I loved him, he was going to leave her for me,” Seymour said infuriated, pointing at Kelly with his flamboyant hands.

“Who else would have done it?” asked Kelly.

“You, you crazy bitch,” Seymour yelled, spitting saliva out of his mouth.

“I understand, but I didn’t kill MY HUSBAND. He gave me everything and now I have nothing. Why would I do that to myself?” Kelly said then palmed her face with both hands and began to sob.

“You just ejaculated a mouthful,” said Seymour.

“Ok, your defendant is getting out of hand I think we should go on a 15-minute break and then come back here for a cross-examination.”

Continue reading Love, Sex and Rock Hard Dead