The Sacrifice, for Art, of Mrs. Whatever
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Hayley and her boyfriend get a little high and go a little crazy.


When Liam cums I don't swallow right away. I let it do a little Throat Coat
thing for a while. Soaks in the nutrients better. And the THC--Liam got
fucking blazed before we came in, so his spunk's practically glowing.

He's packing another bong, actually, while he runs his fingers through my
hair. I rest my cheek against his thigh where it's a little sticky and enjoy
being his bitch a little. I dunno why I enjoy that with him. Any other boy
expected me to suck their dick, I would eat a plate of asparagus, break his
fucking legs, sit on his face and make him really earn his fucking air. Plus
I'd piss in his mouth. That was how come the asparagus. I'm funny.

I'm still baked too but I take the bong when he hands it to me because, um,
it's weed. I have a good relationship with weed. I used to get high before
school a lot and then just sit in class drawing cartoons of, like, the teacher
getting ground into dog food, or that bitch Mindy in the front row getting
strung up by the fingers on her raised fucking hand and beaten like a pinata.
It wasn't anything like I thought I'd really DO, it was just funny to draw,
and, like, therapeutic. But the teacher, who by the way I'm never going to
call anything except Miss Buttfuck, saw that one, and I guess she found it,
like, "disturbing" because I had to go into the office and talk to the
principal and the point of this story is the only thing that got me through it
was being incredibly fucking high the whole time and being able to just zone
out imagining what the principal would look like if someone slid a hot iron a
couple times across his face.

Liam laughed so hard at those drawings, though. Which I'm not gonna lie really
made me feel good. It's rad to be appreciated for your art. So Liam and I
started hanging out, first at school and then at my place, getting stoned in
my room and watching horror movies. There's a guy at the video store who knows
we like the really sick stuff and tracks it down for us, the ones where you
can tell the people who made it were just like "OK what are the ten funniest
ways we can think of to kill people?". Video store guy loves that shit too,
which makes him kinda cool, I guess, except I can tell he wants to bone me and
like I said: asparagus.

Anyway then we started hanging out at his place, or skipping school and
playing mailbox baseball, and then we started hanging out at... other people's
places. While they weren't around. Liam would break a back window and we'd
help ourselves to their food, watch their cable, fuck in their bed, whatever.
I'd bring my drawing stuff and leave them little cartoons of the people in
their family pictures having, like, gruesome accidents. Liam would usually
piss on the walls or the carpet which I thought was pretty stupid but
whatever, boys.

Rich people's houses are obviously more fun than poor people's. Which is why
we're here, in this fucking McMansion on the most boring street I've ever seen
in my life, and he's sitting on the couch and I'm blowing a cloud of pot smoke
onto his dick.

"God I have the fucking munchies," he says.

I'm standing up. I'm in nothing but these black-and-green boyshorts I ripped
off from Spencer's. I look good. I'm just gonna come out and say that. I know
you were gonna imagine me as looking good anyway but just to confirm it, I am
a fucking wet dream. Long legs, cute ass, perfect boobs, and yeah I'm a stoner
so there's a little belly but who the fuck doesn't like that on a girl. Oh and
there's my cute little face. After we'd been hanging out for a week Liam said
he'd never met a girl who could look so incredibly sarcastic. He's sweet.

"Do you ever want anything except food and sex?" I ask.

"Well they have kids, I don't know why they don't have a fucking Xbox."

"Maybe they want them raised better than you." I'm heading into the kitchen. I
do that thing when I'm going through the door where you reach up and touch the
top of the frame just because your dick feels so goddamn big. Except I do it
with one middle finger out, for Liam. He gets kinda pissed off by shit like
that, so I do it all the time. Just because I crush on him doesn't mean I--oh
holy fuck there's someone in the kitchen. Some fat bitch is standing RIGHT IN
THE KITCHEN with her head in the fucking fridge. Liam is a fucking retard, he
said these assholes were gone for the week. Fuck. She's fucking turning
around.

Oh, great, she's fucking SCREAMING. Of course she's a fucking screamer. Her
voice is that fucking shrill panicky fat-bitch voice, like Mrs. Buttfuck's. I
have to like sprint across the kitchen--which by the way is huge, rich people
can tongue my sphincter--and slam her into the open fridge and put a hand on
her mouth and the fat-bitch voice is still fucking coming through my hand, and
she fucking FALLS on me, the cunt, her feet slipping up with a squeaky cartoon
noise, and she slams my ass down on the floor under her. So I get her neck in
a lock and put my arm around it and choke her until she stops screaming and
just starts trying to breathe. Thank fuck I work out.

So I'm sitting naked except for my official Spencer's Gifts pot-leaf boyshorts
on Mrs. Whatever's floor and she's like some fucking mashed potato mountain in
my lap and I've got my hand on her mouth and my arm around her throat and
she's gasping like a dying whale either because I'm choking her or because she
just had to experience a little physical fucking exertion for the first time
in her fucking life, and my ass hurts like fuck and I am seriously pissed off.
So I take it out on her a little while I wait for Liam to get his dumb ass in
the kitchen and help me figure out what to do with her--he's the guy so he can
be more intimidating, I guess. I choke Whatever a little harder and whisper
some dumb improvised weedy threat into her ear about how I'm going to make her
"eat fucking glass". I know, but this is not at all the dumbest thing pot has
made me do. We're getting to that.

See it's taking Liam a long time to come into the kitchen, and sucking that
boy's dick always gets me kind of excited. So I was let's say excited when I
came into the kitchen, and now this bitch is in my lap and like exerting some
weird pressure? on the important parts of me, and she's wriggling and choking
and making those honest-to-God cartoon gagging noises, like she's trying to
tell me she's choking like I don't fucking know, and she sounds completely
fucking hilarious and I feel completely fucking powerful and it actually
starts to turn me on, in a weird way. In this weird distant way where I think
it's funny that I'm turned on. Like me being turned on would be something I'd
draw.

So because I think it's funny I actually wrench Whatever's head back and scoot
up against the fridge and I actually start full-on making out with her,
because I'm really enjoying frightening her and I figure, like, what would be
more frightening right now than if I started passionately making out with a
40-year-old fat woman. And of course she's a pretty resistant kisser at first
but while I'm Frenching her (there is something so weirdly fun about getting
to be the boy when kissing) I figure I'm just so goddamn good at this she
actually gets into it. Which doesn't mean she gets good or anything because
big fucking surprise she's a really shitty kisser. But her tongue flops around
and slaps my tongue and tries to do what it can, y'know, and I don't pull out
until I hear Liam's voice.

"Hayley. The fuck is going on?"

I look around at him and smile a dumb stoned smile with Mrs. Whatever's spit
smeared all over my lips and say, "I ordered a hooker."

He's standing buck naked--oh and by the way I mean I don't know if you're into
this but Liam's completely cut and basically looks like a Greek god with a big
American teenage dick, so knock yourself out--in the doorway and he looks down
at mashed-potatoes and says, "Did you order a fucking dead hooker?"

And she is. She's not fucking breathing. Her tongue was flopping around in
there while I was kissing her because she was fucking suffocating. I made out
with a fat woman while she choked to death and I didn't even get to FUCKING
enjoy it. Fuck my life. But I'm kind of committed to this hooker joke so I
have to say, "What's the point of ordering them already dead?"

"What are we supposed to do now?"

I'm standing up, pushing her off me. "I didn't fucking mean--"

"How did you even do that?"

It's cool that Liam dropped out of school and everything, because fuck school,
but let's just say that sometimes you can tell. "I fucking said mean things to
her until she had a fucking aneurysm."

"What's a--"

"I choked her, dickhead. Jesus Christ." The paranoia's hitting me now. Fuck
you, weed. "God, the fucking cops are gonna find this. We're fucked."

"We'll get rid of her. Dumpster the bitch."

"Fine, then let's fucking GO!" I'm opening cabinets looking for trash bags.
They're not under the sink because of course that would be too easy. Have I
mentioned what rich people can do.

"We don't have to rush or anything, Jesus, Hayley. Calm the fuck down."

"What if her fucking husband comes home, dumbass?"

"Well then we'll fucking kill him, retard."

This makes me stop. Maybe it's all the THC in my blood but it sounds really
good. "Yeah?" I turn around.

"What, you think I can't take a dude married to that?" He points to the body.
God help me I laugh. Liam makes me laugh. He kisses me--way better than
Whatever--and runs his hand through my hair and down my back and slips it into
my boyshorts and rests the palm of his hand on my ass, and I giggle. "Don't
worry, babe." "Way better than the Whatever" was the wrong phrase; I just used
it for the poetry. Liam is an A-plus kisser. It's always the fucking jocks.
"Anyway, I said I had the munchies. What's in the fridge?"

I look at the fridge but you can't look at the fridge without looking at the
giant thing in front of it. And, I mean, OK. I'll tell you the story: when I
was leaving the principal's office after that pointless lecture, I walked past
Mrs. Buttfuck's office and I heard her sobbing. Like seriously sobbing. And
when she looked up and saw me in the doorway she only started sobbing more,
like it made her miserable just that I fucking existed. That someone had drawn
that shit. So I walked right into her office without saying anything and
reached into my backpack and pulled out a picture she hadn't seen, which was
of her being eaten by wolves. With her rib cage ripped open and her heart torn
out and blood all around on the snow (pretty decent snow for colored pencil)
and two big grey beautiful wolves tearing at what was left of her. I handed it
to her when I walked out.

So yeah, I ate Whatever. Maybe half of her. (I've got an appetite stoned.) I
helped carve her up like a fucking turkey, I helped bend her ribs out and
scoop out her organs, I fried pieces of her in her own fucking no-stick pans,
and Liam and I fucking gorged ourselves on her. It seemed like the obvious
thing to do to make the evening special. And I dunno if the forensics team
figured it out but the martini glasses with the weird gunk inside? Those were
our afterdinner drinks. Mrs. Whatever didn't have olives but she did have
exactly the right number of eyeballs. Maybe that was a little much but
whatever, ha ha. Told you I'm funny.

Anyway after we were full and the dirty dishes were all stacked in the sink
just the way you found them, I was sitting on the kitchen counter all stuffed
and stoned, and Liam was taking another bong rip, and I looked down at that
gutted body on the floor, all the skin spread out around her and her
mostly-empty torso just opened up like a sleeping bag, and I had my math
notebook on my lap and a bunch of colored pencils on the counter and was doing
some beautiful sketches of the remains, and I burped and smoke came out. And I
pretty much fell in love with my life. As we were leaving of course Liam had
to fucking pee on the corpse. Jesus Christ I'm dating a sociopath.