Fake Plastic Smiles

“How about her?” Joey says, pointing to the middle aged blonde woman bending over a picnic table. I glance nervously around, checking to make sure no one notices us as we stalk around the park.

“Chill the fuck out Joey, someone’s going to notice if you keep raising your voice and pointing!” I keep my voice low but my tone harsh. That stupid dick is constantly underestimating everyone.

Besides, the park is full of pre 4th of July festivities, fireworks and barbecue. So many American flag ensembles pulled tight over potbellies and pale, cellulite legs jiggling to and fro. A variable laugh fest, were we not here for other concerns. Why take the risk one of them will actually pay any attention to something other than their own greedy desires and overhear our arguing?

“Well hurry up and pick one, I can’t wait to put this Carmac into someone. HA! See what I did there?” Joey chides and elbows me as he pulls out the 10 inch serrated blade still stained from yesterday’s hunt.

“Eponymous stabs at humor aside, see what I did there?” Joey actually snorts derisively, as if no one else can claim cheesy humor or act campy. “Can we take this a little more seriously, Joey? I don’t want to just settle for anyone like we did last night.”

“I can’t help that he turned out to be a squealer. Do you expect me to – oh shit, is that Lisa?” He says, raising his outstretched arm in her direction, “HEY LISA!”

I turn my blushing face away from her as she turns to look in the direction of the call. “Did she hear you?” I hurriedly ask him.

“Okay, play it cool Carmac, she’s coming over. Oh man and she’s wearing that little blue dress with the white flowers you like too.”

“Goddamnit Joey I fuckin-”

“Hey there Carmac.” Her voice is that of angels. It’s lithe and sensual and rich and tingly. It makes me feel as if I’m soaking in a hot bath on a cool summer night, the breeze floating in through the open window and touching lightly upon the exposed skin sticking up out of the water.

I turn to see her cute little smile of red, lush lips on brown glazed skin. Her dark raven hair pulled back with a pink barette, tucking back behind her ears. Her hands twist little knots in themselves and her toes have red nail polish shining in the sun.

Joey is standing behind her, the knife in full view. He’s raised it up around the front of her neck. He wants to slit her throat.

“Is Joey bothering you again?”

“You can see him?” I ask with wide eyes, unbelieving.

That’s when he starts to stab her in the back. Blood is flowing and spraying over the hot dogs and burgers and ribs. You can hear it sizzling as it hits the hot coals. She drops to her knees as her eyes begin rolling to the back of her head.

“DIE GODDAMNIT DIE!” He screams almost incoherently as he stabs her viciously, over and over. People are screaming along with him. They’re running away and trampling those who were too slow and had fallen to the ground.

Soon enough everyone is gone from the once crowded little park. The only things left are the sounds of the knife still going in and out of Lisa, so beautiful with her little red dress with little red flowers on it. Her unblinking eyes stare up at the clouds moving lazily across the sky. Her limp body shifts back and forth with each push and pull from Joey’s knife.

I sit down at the nearest picnic table, grabbing a hot dog and spreading mustard on it, skipping the relish. “Yo Carmac,” Joey says as he stands up, his arms amd face and chest covered in dripping blood, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, “hook it up with a burger and chips, dog.”

“Goddamnit Joey.” I say chidingly as I grab a paper plate and begin making his burger.


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