Find Big Fat Fanny Fast (20 page)

Sammy took out his tiny spy camera, with infra-red/telescopic lens, and began to take rapid pictures.

Click. A picture of the movie screen with two young guys doing all kinds of disgusting things to each other.

Click. Crappy looks at the big black dude with loving eyes.

Click. Crappy slides over to the seat next to the black dude.

Click. Crappy's right hand disappears on the black dude's lap.

Click. The black dude sits back, smiling.

Click. Crappy's head disappears onto the black dude's lap.

Click. The black dude grabs the back of Crappy's head.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click....................................

Click. Crappy's head reappears.

Click. Crappy has a lecherous grin and white goo on the side of his face.

Click. Crappy wipes the goo off his face with the back of his sleeve.

Click. The black dude stands.

Click. The black dude zippers his pant.

Click. Crappy stands and the black dude passes Crappy.

Click. Crappy sits down.

Click. Crappy's eyes follow the black dude, as the black dude slides down the row to the aisle.

Click. The black dude heads up the aisle and exits the theater.

Click. Crappy places the popcorn box back on his lap.

Click. Crappy reaches into the popcorn box with his right hand.

Sammy stops clicking the camera and watches Crappy's hand pulling up and down inside the popcorn box, faster than before.

Soldato “Sammy” L'Occhio left the gay movie house knowing Charlie “Crappy” Crappola would soon be a thing of the past.

*****

Nicky Knuckles, cocaine making his heart beat rapidly, crept slowly up the first flight of stairs at 33 Mott Street. He reached Peggy Soo's apartment and put his ear to the door.

Nothing.

He bent down to see if he could see through the peephole.

Still nothing.

Figuring nobody was inside, he pulled out a set of lock picks and quietly went to work. The cheap lock gave in less than a minute and Nicky slipped inside. Suddenly, he heard voices from the closed back bedroom.

Damn, somebody was in the apartment. They better be the right somebodies, or Nicky would be hit himself for screwing up a hit.

He tiptoed to the closed back bedroom door and put his ear to it. He heard grunts and wheezes and moans, and he figured Peggy Soo was doing the horizontal mambo with someone. Again, it better be the right someone, or Nicky Knuckles had some heavy explaining to do.

Nicky pulled out his trusty 38-caliber revolver. He turned the door knob slowly, then pushed the door hard.

Sure enough, Peggy Soo was on her back, legs wide open, being humped by a skinny Chink, Nicky figured to be Yuan Dum Fuk. Nicky was absolutely sure, when Yuan Dum Fuk jumped off Peggy Soo and turned to face him. Yuan Dum Fuk's small, skinny penis was hard, but deflating fast.

Before Yuan Dum Fuk could say, “Please knock the next time,” Nickey fired two shots. The first hit Yuan Dum Fuk in the middle of the chest, piecing his heart. The second dotted his forehead. He fell
sideward
and slipped off the side of the bed, face first onto the floor.

Nicky hurried to the body, flipped it over with his foot and there lay Yuan Dum Fuk, unseeing eyes open and no longer of this world.

Nicky pointed the gun at Peggy Soo, who was laying there, legs still open and her huge boobs shaking in fear.

“Don't do it!” Peggy Soo pleaded.

“Why not?” Nicky said.

Peggy Soo pointed to the black patch between her legs. “That's why.”

Nicky lowered his gun. “I see your point.”

He put his gun under his belt in the small of his back, and in seconds, Nicky had replaced Yuan Dum Fuk in the position of honor.

He started off in pile-driving mode, but soon slowed down into a slow rhythmic pump. He was moaning and she was moaning, so he didn't notice that Peggy Soo had removed the gun from under the belt in the small of his back.

She held the gun off the side of the bed so he couldn't see it.

“Oh, I'm close to coming,” Nicky said.

“Hold back a little. I want to come too,” Peggy Soo said.

Nicky slowed down a little. Then seconds later, Peggy Soo screamed, “OK, now give it to me! Give it to me hard and fast!”

Nicky went into all-out pumping mode. Jamming her in and out, as hard and as fast as he could.

Peggy Soo screamed, “Now I'm coming. Now. Now. Now.”

Nicky huffed and puffed, as her pounded her. “Me too. I'm real close.”

Peggy Soo achieved orgasm, yelling, “NOW!!!”

Then she shot Nicky in the side of the head, blowing what was left of his brains to the other side of the room.

Peggy Soo was now left with a problem. Two dead bodies were in her bedroom and no apparent way to get rid of them. She grabbed her pink princess bedroom phone and dialed.

Hung Far Low answered on the second ring.

She said, “You wouldn't believe what just happened.”

“What just happened?”

“I can't talk on the phone, but you better come here quick.”

“Come there quick? Just like that. No explanation?”

“I'll order you a dozen eggs roll and a quart of fried rice. The food will be here when you get here.”

“Give me an hour. My daughter is making me dinner. I don't want to insult her.”

“What's she making you?”

“The usual. Fish heads with Chinese vegetables. And spicy chicken feet. Both very low in carbs.”

“Great, you're making me sick. But I think you might get sick too when you get here.”

“Not if a dozen eggs rolls and a quart of fried rice are waiting for me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We'll soon find out for sure.”

*****

Big Fast Fanny sat in the back seat of Junior's 1985 Mustang GT, her face hidden behind black tinted glass installed on all the car's windows. Junior also had the car equipped with special super-duper shocks and springs, so that the car's rear end wouldn't collapse under Big Fat Fanny's weight, which had happened several times until Junior got the message and called his local car mechanic.

The Mustang was double-parked next to a Chinese delivery truck, two doors down from the  Canal Street tenement building where Crappy lived. The Mustang was facing the Manhattan Bridge, just three short blocks away, so they could make a quick getaway into Brooklyn. Junior held a Motorola DynaTak mobile phone to his ear and was speaking to Bobby the Beak, who was standing on Canal Street in front of the BMT Canal Street subway station, near Lafayette Street.

Bobby the Beak had spoken by mobile phone twenty minutes earlier to Shorty Stitchhead, who had been standing on the sidewalk in front of the BMT station on Times Square and 42
nd
Street. With Shorty had been Soldato “Sammy” L'Occhio, who had waited for Charlie Crappola to leave the Gay Paree movie house and had followed him to the Times Square BMT Station. Shorty Stitchhead told Bobby the Beak that Crappy was en route by subway and to wait for him by the BMT Station on Canal Street.

Bobby the Beak stood hidden inside a factory hallway, with a clear view of the south side of Canal Street's BMT station, knowing full well Crappy lived on the south side of Canal and would surely emerge from that exit. Twenty minutes later Crappy did exactly that.

Bobby the Beak spoke to Junior on the mobile phone. “The eagle is on the way.”

Junior turned to Big Fat Fanny. “Get ready. He just walked out of the subway station.”

Big Fat Fanny slipped two stilettos under her huge bra, one under each mammoth breast. “I'm ready. Give me the go-ahead as soon as he enters the building.”

Through the rear view mirror, Junior spotted Crappy crossing Baxter and heading to his apartment entrance thirty feet away.

“Get ready, he's almost there,” Junior said.

“I'm ready alright,” Big Fat Fanny said.

Junior spotted Crappy entering the building. “He's in. Go get him.”

Big Fat Fanny tried getting out the back passengers door, but the parked truck was too close for her to squeeze out.

“I have to get out on the driver's side,” she said.

Junior opened the driver's door and jumped out of the two-door Mustang. Big Fat Fanny pushed hard against the back of the driver's seat. So hard, she drove the narrow top of the headrest right through the spokes in the steering wheel.

She rushed out of the car, almost trampling Junior. “Get out of my way!”

Junior jumped back into the street to avoid her and almost got clipped by a passing cab.

Big Fat Fanny waddled fast into the Crappy's tenement building. Once inside, she pulled the two stilettos from her bra, slipped them into the pockets of her black pin-stripe pants suit and rumbled toward the stairway in the back. When she got there, she spotted Crappy standing on the bottom step, three feet in front of her.

“Hey you!” Big Fat Fanny yelled.

Crappy turned and his eyes flew wide open. “Yeah, what do you want?”

She inched closer. “Tony B wants to see you right away.”

“For what?”

She was now close enough to smell the liquor on his breath. “He'll tell you that when he sees you.”

Crappy turned away from her and took a step up the stairs. “Tell him I'll see him tomorrow.”

Big Fat Fanny slipped the stilettos out of her pants pockets and lunged forward, a blade in each hand. She stabbed Crappy twice in the upper back, ripping downward until she reached the bottom of his spine. Crappy did a wobbly about-face, and she stabbed him twice more, in the chest, ripping downwards almost to his toes. Blood oozed out of Crappy's mouth and body, and Big Fat Fanny hopped back quickly to avoid getting blood on her clothes.

Crappy's eyes rolled in his head. Then the lights went out behind them. He fell face up at Big Fat Fanny's feet. His unseeing eyes were open and Big Fat Fanny knew he was indeed quite dead.

Just because she could, she kicked Crappy twice in the head and stomped on his chest three times. She spit on his bloodied body and wailed, “That's what you get for sucking something you shouldn't!”

Then she huffed out of the building to the waiting Mustang outside.

Junior was still standing in the street, a puzzled look on his face.

“Let's go!” Big Fat Fanny said.

“We can't go,” Junior said. “You pushed the headrest right through the steering wheel.”

“Well pull the headrest out of the steering wheel,” she said.

“I can't,” Junior said. “It's wedged in tight. It won't budge.”

Big Fat Fanny surveyed the situation. “Let me try.”

Big Fat Fanny jumped into the back seat of the Mustang. Then she leaned forward and surrounded the driver's front seat with her lumberjack arms. Instead of pulling the front seat towards her, she fell backwards, hard. And like a champagne cork popping out of a bottle, the headrest slipped free from the spokes of the steering wheel. Big Fat Fanny landed in a sitting position in the back seat and the rear end of the car hit the pavement with a bang.

“Let's go!” Big Fat Fanny said. “Move it fast!”

Junior shook his head. He knew what Big Fat Fanny had just done using only her weight, ten weightlifters couldn't do on a bet.

Junior got behind the wheel, burned rubber and sped towards the Manhattan Bridge.

In minutes, they were parked in an indoor garage on Flatbush Avenue, two blocks into Brooklyn.

Junior got out of the car and pushed the front seat forward so Big Fat Fanny could emerge. She started to exit the car and he saw her moving her right hand towards the back of the front seat, to lean for leverage.

“Don't!” Junior screamed.

He grabbed Big Fat Fanny's hand, summoned all his strength, and using her forward momentum, pulled her out of the back seat of the Mustang, while feeling his testicles bang against the inside of his thighs.

Big Fat Fanny put her hands on her corpulent hips. “You better trade this piece of crap in for a four-door sedan. A Lincoln, or a Caddy or something like that. I'm not going through this shit again.”

Junior pushed the front seat into the sitting position and he noticed that the headrest was bent forward at a 45 degree angle from the rest of the seat and that one of the spokes in the steering wheel had cracked in half.

Junior shook his head. “No way, I'm trading in this car in this condition. This one's going right into the East River.”

Junior heard sirens blaring in the distance. “That's the cops heading to Canal. Pretty soon they'll be sending for the meat wagon to cart Crappy away.”

Big Fat Fanny slipped a piece of gum in her mouth, chewed voraciously, then blew a bubble as big as her face. She popped the bubble with a flick of her tongue. “The way I sliced him up, they better order two meat wagons for that blimp.”

Junior couldn't help wondering how many meat wagons they would need for Big Fat Fanny, if God forbid, something bad ever happened to her.