Post by Logan on Aug 19, 2009 12:18:56 GMT -5
Mother Mary
409-LIPS
409-LIPS
Mary. The town whore, the one you could convince with a bottle of Vodka that the world would end tomorrow, so, we should have sex. She was fragile for her 'career choice', a bit on the innocent side, the rotten apple had yet to meet her lips. And it never would, not in her mind, she didn't need to change, she didn't need to be deceived. She was her own woman. She was.. Mary.
Dani. An orphan teen who refused 'home'. Fueled with anger to rebel against anything he seen fit, anything that felt distorted or falsely corporate'd. Dani. The biggest fuckers of all fuckers, bastards of all bastards. Though he didn't have any manners and he came off rude to just about anyone who wiped their ass with toilet paper, he was true to himself. He didn't care if he was looked down on, he thought people, in general, were naturally idiots. People.. he hated them. And that was a nasty 'quality' about himself, he had no shyness in letting you know how much you disgusted him. No boundaries for Dani, none at all. There was nothing but fire in his veins and if he had enough gasoline to scorch all of earth's soil, he would. However, there was a little 'light' that shined inside his dark. There was one thing that sparkled through his firey hell of chaos, there was.. his mother, Mary.
Her head swayed and fell leaning into the stall wall covered with poop joke graffiti and sticky 'glory holes'. A place she was accustomed to, one of the only places she was recognized, and what an awful place for one to be held in high regards. She awaited a 'customer', sealing her lips with the opened end of a half emptied (or half full) bottle of Vodka. Foot steps echoed inside the men's bathroom and stall beside her became occupied.
Mary: Miss Lips at your--
Licker aroma burp escaping her mouth.
Mary: --at your service.
Dani: It's me, Mom.
Mary: If you want role-play I can get into that.
Dani: No, mother. It's Dani!
And through her many of drunken hours she had nearly forgotten. She had forgotten she brought another person into this world, she had forgotten she was a mother.
Dani: Leave with me, we can get a place, please--mother.. just.. stop this..
She stared off into the stall writings, her phone number indented into the wood reminding her who she was, what she was. A hand out stretched from the stall over and reached out for hers.
Dani: Mother.. please.
Eyeing his hand, his sign of 'hope'. She couldn't take it.
Mother Mary: Leave! You're holding up business.
Dani: ..Mother..
Mother Mary
Has A Behind
Has A Behind
Do you want to elope tonight[/color]
Getting lost in the shadows
All dressed up like a switchblade knife
Let's hang in love from the gallows
Or we can take a walk around the lake
There's a garden in the park there
Under the stars next to the fireside
Anywhere is better than here
Oh Mother Mary, take my hand
I'll be a saint, I'll be your man
I'll do most anything, 'cause I don't care
Oh Mother Mary, take my hand.
Mother Mary. The tits and ass, the core of soft porn, the alcoholic drunk wrench with more cocaine than you can shake a stick at. Logan's relationship with her was equivalent to a monkey and his banana for lunch, once it was peeled, the small effort was over, the banana was ready to be ate. That is to say, Logan spent many WCF paychecks going out on a date with Mother Mary to the Banana Barn, America's biggest fast food banana restaurant. On this particular date, Mother Mary opened up her mouth and her dentures sloppily drooled from her mouth and plopped down onto the fresh ordered plate of.. bananas. It wasn't an embarrassing moment, not for Mother Mary at least, false teeth filled her mouth ever since that day long ago behind a Russian bar. The day she'll never forget, the day she tried to fit an entire bottle of Vodka into her mouth, which someone shattered, causing her mouth and teeth to explode. But that was Logan's favorite thing about her, the way she'd use her gums to suckle the desperate last drops of clear Russian poison from dry empty bottles. That vulnerability, that unstableness, that wicked desire that came first before anything else.. attracted Logan. To him, he could almost relate, for him, he needed a match with Torture like she needed to clinch her poisonous thirst. If he wouldn't get his 'fix' soon he didn't know what he'd do.
Mother Mary: Whatcha thinkin' bout, big boy?
Wondering what was on Logan's mind, she licked her lips, revealing her toothless grin. Logan glanced down her blouse, trying to get his mind off Torture before replying.
Logan: I'm thinking.. you can..
Trying to enlighten her flirty mood with something more 'serious', he focused, shooting his eyes directly into hers.
Logan: Help me.
Of course, it'd only be obvious to believe the first thought that came to her mind in response to his plea of help had to have been something.. seductive.. sexual.
Mother Mary: M'm, yea--
Logan: Not like that.
He laid his hand over hers reassuring her his intentions weren't the same.
Logan: I can fix your teeth, if you do me one favor. I'm up against Anastasia Petrova this week, and I need you to teach me how to turn off my.. um...
Logan thinks, trying to figure out his words.
Logan: I want you to teach me how to wrestle a woman with huge tits, but without getting an extra hard Jumbo Hot Dog of Treachery while I'm doing it. I need you to teach me to focus.
Mother Mary looks at Logan for a brief second, considering her options, having always wanted beautiful new teeth. She replies.
Mother Mary: Fix my teeth AND a five gallon drum of Vodka every day till my liver rots.
Her opportunity for some sort of change had just knocked at the door, she opened it, and shot it down. A mouth full of actual teeth would surely increase chances of someone looking over that monthly McDonalds application. She didn't want it, she didn't need it. Mother Mary. Vodka. Tits. And fuckin' ass.
Logan: Ah..
Not wanting to see anybody continue down a spiral of destruction, he gritted his teeth and regretted the words that came from mouth.
Logan: Deal.
She happily smiled, he turned his head.. of course, and she dug back into her plate of bananas. Going back in thought he blocked out the annoying savage chomps of fruit across the table, Seth Lerch came to mind. Besides Anastasia Petrova, Logan had to deal with Seth. Seth's little "fake Logan" segment had been old and predictable, as far as Logan was concerned, and he wasn't amused. He'd fought and feuded with Seth for years, and the fact that he was doing it one more time didn't surprise him. Logan and Seth are yin and yang; sometimes they hated each other, sometimes they were the best of partners. But right now, Seth was two things. One, an annoyance, but two, the man that was stopping Logan from getting to Torture. Logan knew that he had to do something about Seth, but to do that, he'd have to do something to beat Anastasia Petrova.
Mother Mary: Alright, Logan. Now..
Mary leans down, revealing her big heaving ta-tas.
Mother Mary: You see these?
Logan nods. She turns around, pulling up her skirt, showing her ass in a thong.
Mother Mary: And this?
Logan nods again. Mary turns around, and pulls a small clock on a chain out from between her cleavage. She begins moving it back and forth.
Mother Mary: Logan, follow the clock.
Logan's eyes go back and forth with the clock. Soon, it is obvious that Mother Mary is hypnotizing him.
Mother Mary: Until you pin Anastasia Petrova, whenever you see tits or ass... you will think of this.
Mother Mary pulls something else out of her cleavage. A picture of a corpse, a chicken corpse with only one eye gazed open. The one eyed chicken's stare haunted him. It wasn't exactly a feeling of fear, but one of disgust. He wanted nothing to do with that dead chicken. The pit of his stomach churned and he was filled with disapproval of the 'deathy' photo.
Mother Mary: Logan, the chicken wants you..
Clinching the bridge of his nose in hand, making a sour face.
Mother Mary: Do you want the chicken?
Squirming in place he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Logan: God! NO!
Grabbing at the fork that came with his banana dinner, he began to literally 'fork' the picture away seeking a safe distance.
Logan: Get it away! Stop it!
She dropped the picture into her lap behind the table cloth hiding it from Logan.
Mother Mary: You must engulf this--
Logan: The banana?
Mother Mary: The picture! If you want to defeat Anastasia you must defeat this picture. Logan, pin the picture!
She slapped the photo on the table for him to once again see.
Mother Mary: Logan..
Her voice lowered to a grunt.
Mother Mary: Pin the chicken!
Logan knew that the chicken was symbolic. He had to pin the chicken, rather than choking the chicken. That, he was used to. Logan looked at the chicken once more, cringed.. he glanced at Mother Mary's tits, but he couldn't think about them. All he could see in his mind's eye was ... the chicken. Logan looked down once more at the picture, groaned to himself... and pinned it. Mother Mary made the count.
Mother Mary: ONE!...
Her boobs are right in Logan's face.
Mother Mary: TWO!...
Logan has his eyes held tightly closed, trying not to vomit.
Mother Mary: THREE!
Logan got up and started coughing and spitting, like he had ingested some disgusting, vile substance.
Mother Mary: Now... about my payment?
She sat back in her chair, the dramatic events having no effect on concentration to consume bananas. Holding his stomach, still shaken up from leaping on a photo of a chicken in a public restaurant, he watched her stuff two bananas in her mouth at once and then he came to realize her 'help' was just a ruse. Helping out another to better them wasn't none of her concern, it was true, all she really wanted was.. vodka. He felt obligated to help her, just not because it was a part of the 'deal', but because.. he wanted to--he needed to--he had to--help Mother Mary.
Take a ride on the midnight train[/color]
We'll fall asleep at the station
Too much wine, driving me insane
And then we'll miss our destination
Oh well, too bad, who cares, it's all right.
As long as we will stick together
In hell we’ll rain a rose of sunshine
We'll watch it rise and shine forever
Oh Mother Mary, take my hand
I'll be a saint, I'll be your man
I'll do most anything, 'cause I don't care
Oh Mother Mary, take my hand.