Scary Rednecks & Other Inbred Horrors (10 page)

They helped Judd from the table, and awoke Bailey.

Kenny Joe stared at the shaft that stuck out of Judd’s ass and said, “Man, I wouldn’t fall down if I was you.”

Judd looked over at his friend.
 
“Do you seriously know how close I am to killing you right now?”

“It almost looks like someone took the bitch-be-quick-stick out and plunged it in his ass,” Bailey commented.

Judd’s eyes actually looked moist with tears.
 
The metal pole wiggled back and forth as he walked.

The hallway outside the probe room, much to their relief, was empty.

“Hell, for all we know, we could be on another planet by now,” Max said as they walked, guns aimed forward ready to shoot anything that moved.

Max was holding the alien laser in his hand like a fat-ass intergalactic space hero.
 
Judd waddled slowly and painfully, taking wide steps as the jutting pole wiggled behind him.
 
Kenny Joe watched the rod quiver back and forth and bit back a comment that he knew would cause a fight.

The corridor seemed to be an endless path of doors.
 
They elected not to try any in favor of just following the passage to its completion.
 
Minutes later, they found themselves before a purple door, dull humming emitting from the room.

They got ready, their guns held out in different angles.
 
Max glanced back at them and he was reminded of a sick parody of
Charlie’s Angels
.
 
Judd was in the middle, totally buck naked, a pole sticking out of his flabby ass.
 
Kenny Joe and Bailey quite literally rounded out each side, their beer bellies pushing out proudly, their guns held in the air.
 
Kenny Joe fingered his beard dramatically.

“Okay,” Max whispered.
 
“Let’s wait for one of them to come-”

The door opened suddenly and Judd, Kenny Joe and Bailey opened fire, sending Max scurrying to the floor to avoid being killed.

The alien just stood there for a few seconds, five or six holes in its lime-colored, leathery skin, its massive eyes widening even further.
 
It fell forward with a soft thump, a puddle of green goo pouring out of its head.

“Who’s your Daddy!”
 
Judd yelled to the corpse, not quite aware of just how ridiculous he looked standing there with the end of an anal probe vibrating happily from his ass.

They cleared out a half a dozen aliens from the bridge rather quickly, with very little effort.
 
Soon, the bodies of smoking aliens surrounded them, green blood covering the floor where they walked.

A massive screen showed the earth below them, lonely against the twinkling black background.
 
The moon could be seen off in the distance like a pale, cratered apple.

Max stared down at a control panel full of buttons, each of them marked with the hieroglyphics that he had seen in the probe room.
 
“We need to figure out how to get back down with this control panel.”

The rest of the men nodded and stared down at the buttons dumbly.
 
“What about that one with the green and blue circle on it?” Kenny Joe suggested.
 
“That’s the color of the earth.”

Max nodded.
 
“Should I push it?” he asked, looking over at his friends.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Judd asked.

“Well, that’s easy for you to say, Judd,” Bailey said, staring down. “You got a metal rod sticking out of your ass.”

Before they could start fighting again, Max pushed the button and stepped back fearfully.
 
There was a dull rumbling underneath their feet and they braced themselves for the worst, their eyes darting around the room with growing panic.

Through the screen in front of them, they watched in awe as the biggest missile that they had ever seen floated down towards earth, spinning silently as it fell.
 
Their mouths slowly dropped open in unison as the missile entered the planet’s atmosphere with a trail of fire and smoke.

“Oh my motherfucking god, I think you just blew up the earth,” Judd uttered, his eyes watching his home planet in amazement.

“My mama is on that
planet
!” Kenny Joe wailed, his hands stuck to the glass.

Max wondered how it was possible that he had just actually heard someone utter the line ‘My mama is on that planet’ in a serious tone.
 
“You don’t know that it’s going to destroy the earth, fool,” he muttered just as the missile detonated on the planet below.
 
A colossal, fiery cloud could be seen from their vantage point.
 
“There, see, it only got a part of the earth.
 
A piece is still there.”

“Looks like some part of Europe,” Bailey said. “Mama don’t live in Europe, thank the Lord his own bad self.”

Max could see quite plainly that it was Southeast Asia, but he decided not to say anything.

“Push another,” Kenny Joe said, happy that the bomb had not killed his mother.
 
“Just don’t push no green and blue ones.”

Max nodded and pushed a random button.
 
Nothing happened.
 
“We’re never going to figure out how to move this thing back to earth.
 
This is helpless.”

Judd slapped his hands down on the control panel, pushing dozens of buttons at once.
 
“ANAL PROBE IN MY ASS!
 
EARTH BLOWING UP!
 
KENNY JOE’S MAMA DEAD!
 
I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

The ship lurched forward, tumbling slowly towards the earth, faint tremors reverberating underneath their feet.
 
Gravity was suddenly cut off and they found themselves floating around the room along with several alien corpses.
 
Kenny Joe seemed to be stuck to the front of the view screen, while Judd floated around fearful that he was going to hit his backside on a wall.
 
Bailey grabbed the pole in Judd’s ass in a vain effort to steady himself, sending the both of them hurling wildly through the room.
 
They hit the wall on the other side with a sickening thud.

Luckily, Judd had hit the wall headfirst.

Max floated in front of the view screen and watched the earth grow larger before his stunned face.
 
The ship hit the atmosphere and plunged toward the planet, the view screen detonating in sheet of fire. “Oh…shit,” he whispered.

Kenny Joe, still stuck to the view screen like a squashed bug, had a front row seat to the whole thing.
 
He screamed and cried as they plummeted.

The ship vibrated spastically.
 
Showers of sparks exploded from the control panels, filling the room with sulfurous smoke.

The last thing Max heard before he fell into unconsciousness was the womanly sounds of Kenny Joe’s front seat screams.
  

One year later:

“You’d think you’d be used to it by now,” Max said to his friend as they watched the big screen TV.
 
They could see Judd being carried from the wreckage of the UFO, the metal rod sticking out of his ass like a sundial.
 
The spaceship had crashed into the Atlantic Ocean and, after submerging for about an hour, floated to the top.
 
Government officials had soon swarmed the ship.

They were watching a documentary called
The Aliens Among Us!

Judd held his hands over his face.
 
“That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t been dubbed ‘
Assman
’ by the media.”

“It could have been worse,” Kenny Joe commented.
 
“They could have called you Anal Probe Guy.”

Bailey cackled.
 
“That
kinda
sounds like a gay porn actor.”
 
He stopped laughing suddenly and coughed.
 
“Not that I ever watched any.”

On the screen before them Max was saying, “We tried and tried to get that probe out his
BEEP
, but it just wasn’t
BEEP
happening.
 
Finally, we just had to cut the rod, so now it just stuck out his
BEEP
just so, you know what I mean?”

Judd looked up.
 
“Did you really have to do interviews, man?”

Max nodded.
 
“Shit, for twenty thousand I
woulda
done that interview buck naked in a pink bow tie while sodomizing a monkey.”

Judd shook his head looked at the screen, just about ready to cry. Kenny Joe was now being interviewed.
 
“I could tell by looking at the poor
BEEP
that it
had
to hurt.
 
Hell, if you had a metal shaft shoved straight into your
BEEP
would you not be
BEEP
hurtin
’?
 
I was
wincin
’ just looking at him.
 
And of course he was
BEEP
carryin
’ on like it was the end of the world.”

“Look at it this way, Judd,” Kenny Joe said, slapping him on the back.
 
“You’re a star now.
 
Shit, they’re selling ‘
Assman
in Space’ T-shirts and everything!”

At this point, Judd started to cry.
 
He knew that
shitpie
would always be on the table when he came for dinner. He just couldn’t catch a break.

by Weston
Ochse

“
W
hat the fuck do you mean, it
ain’t
my turn?” shouted
Enus
into the racing wind of the speeding pickup.

They were confident the deputy sheriff had taken the last turn-off where Zebulon had left a skid of dust as a swirling temptation.
 
The blue and red Ford pickup had swung around the bend in the road too quickly for them to see if the bastard had taken the bait, though.
 
Zeb
didn’t care.
 
He was hell bent at near seventy miles an hour — the fish-tailing back end fighting the road at each turn.

“Just what I said.
 
I mean it
ain’t
your turn,” said
Zeb
, wrenching the wheel hard to the right.
 
“Anyways, you had the last one.”

“The last one?
 
She don’t count.
 
Hell,” said
Enus
, “you can’t count her.
 
She was near eighty years old.
 
That gash was gray as hell, man.”

“
Thems
the chance you take.
 
It was your turn and you can’t even start complaining.
 
It
ain’t
like that man I had to do last week.
 
At least yours was a woman.”

Enus
chuckled at the memory of his lifetime friend embracing the hippie they found hitchhiking last week.
 
They had both
thought
he was a woman.
 
His legs and his butt were tight and pretty damn good looking.
 
Then the fairy pulled his hair aside and they saw the two weeks growth of beard.
 
By then it was too late.
 
And
Zeb
had made the hippie pay for it.

“Fine then.
 
At least I get to help,” said
Enus
.
 
The last was a question more than a statement.
 
The grin
Zeb
gave him in return was enough to let him know that tonight would be a group effort.

Three miles later they skidded to a stop in a roadside picnic area.
 
Zeb
repositioned the truck so it faced back the way they came and grabbed up his sheep skinner.
 
It was a six-inch, wicked-looking blade.
 
Its grip could double as a spiked set of brass knuckles and
Enus
had only seen it used once.
 
The look on the poor patrolman’s face as his forehead sprouted five new holes was still funny, even after six months.

“I think we ditched the motherfucker,” said
Zeb
grabbing a beer from the Styrofoam cooler between them.
 
“Lucky for him,” he said, taking a deep gulp.