Cole Alpaugh The Bear in a Muddy Tutu (epub)

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.“I am God,” Billy Wayne practiced.The cool sea breeze that slapped at the pages was refreshing on his face.Billy Wayne had parked his ’63 Dodge Dart at a meter right behind his bench.His mother was just four miles away, but the three small towns wedged in between were enough of a barrier for Billy Wayne to bask in his independence from everything but the parking meter.He cupped a damp nickel in his left hand, ready to drop it in should a cop happen along.He had eleven hundred dollars stuffed, tucked, and hidden in five different places on his person.He’d learned the method for protecting against muggers during a segment of Good Morning America.There was no telling how long it would be before his followers would start turning over their life savings, so he was prudently trying to conserve every last penny.Proselytizing was not going to pay off anytime soon.Billy Wayne knew he needed to keep reading.Step number three from How to Become a Cult Leader in 50 Easy Steps: “Appearance and grooming: it is extremely important to wear a suit and tie when first recruiting followers.People must see you as authoritative.Picture yourself a school teacher who is also a door-to-door salesman.Your face and hands should have a nice tan, which can easily be applied.After establishing your following, appearance and grooming can and should be ignored.Think existentialism here.You will be seen as more spiritual with greasy tangled hair and body odor.”Billy Wayne adjusted his clip-on tie.Each time he’d summoned the courage to approach what appeared to be a lost soul, he lost his nerve.He’d been left standing awkwardly on one foot, stuttering a squeaky apology and cowering away, armpits dripping with sweat.He looked down, examined his pudgy hands, and made a resolution to stop biting his fingernails.Step number four: “If you are in shape and have a muscular physique, skip ahead.If you are fat, then you need to practice what is called ‘Successfat.’ ‘Successfat’ is a belief system wherein the fatter someone is, the more successful he has been in life.Most of the great kings and rulers in history have been terrible gluttons.This is you! Rise above your waistline! Don’t slouch and continually pull your suit jacket over your great belly.No, a true Successfat celebrates his corpulence, patting his or her bay window without chagrin.Smile wide and warm and throw those meaty paws out and shake hands like you’re sealing a deal, because you just may be!”Billy Wayne sat up straighter and let his suit jacket fall away to his side to proudly display his fat belly.He smiled broadly, reaching out to shake an invisible follower’s hand.“Hey, what’s your problem, buddy?” came a startled female voice in front of Billy Wayne, who immediately recoiled his hand as if electrocuted by the passing bikini bottom.“You fucking sicko!”Billy Wayne flinched, expecting to be hit, but the woman was more than two benches away by the time he dared open his eyes.Her legs, glistening with suntan lotion, were made even longer by the inline skates.The bikini bottom he’d touched was cut way up over her tan hips.Billy Wayne guiltily watched her jiggling rear end grow smaller.Then he grabbed his suitcase and book, retreated to his Dart, and backed out onto the empty street to search for a cheap motel.Being God required careful fine-tuning.He needed to read and work on his recruiting skills.On the lookout for the most faded paint and missing signage letters, Billy Wayne swung the Dart into the spot nearest the Belmar Arms Motel office door.“It’s forty-nine dollars and no hookers,” said the leathery old man behind the counter.“Cash only.”Billy Wayne pulled off his right shoe and removed a moist pile of twenties and fifties.He peeled off two limp fifties and pushed them across the counter.The desk clerk eyed the bills but wasn’t prepared to pick them up.“Sorry,” Billy Wayne said.“The rest is in my underwear.”“Room twelve.” The old man snatched a key out of a large coop of mail slots and slapped it down next to the bills.“And no hookers.”“I swear.” Billy Wayne grabbed the key and headed back out to reposition his car in front of door number twelve.The soap in the tiny shower stall smelled like a urinal cake, but the near-scalding water emptied his sinuses and cleared his head, which seemed to hurt a little less since he’d left home.Billy Wayne twisted both knobs to “off” and leaned out of the curtain to listen for his mother’s phantom voice.A puddle formed on the moldy tiles as he strained to hear; thirty years of incessant heckling was going to take some time to eject from his head.Billy Wayne resumed lathering, wondering how long it would take before he was free from the haunting demands that had overshadowed every event in his life, including the only time he’d ever made love to a girl.“Billy Wayne,” his mother had said.“You get right off that dirty tramp!”It had been four years ago, just before his mother had lost the ability to climb the stairs to the second floor of their house.Even then, she’d had to struggle, taking a long rest on the landing then using the railing to hoist herself up one step at a time.Billy Wayne had snuck his girlfriend in through the kitchen door [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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