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Voodoo Children

By John G. Hartness

A Bubba the Monster Hunter Short Story

Copyright 2011 John G. Hartness

Smashwords Edition


I rolled into town a couple hours before sunset, the better to get the lay of the land. Of course, my idea of getting the lay of the land pretty much meant pulling up in my F-250 in front of the only titty bar in Columbia, Tennessee to see what the afternoon shift looked like. I’ve always been able to learn about a town by the level of talent working a pole at four in the afternoon. If the saggy boobs and cottage cheese butt cheeks on display at the Ride ‘Em Cowboy Saloon were any indication, Columbia had seen its better days. To start with there were only about five guys in there plus me. There was a bartender, a DJ who looked like a meth addict on the tail end of three-month tweakfest, an old man asleep with his face down on the bar, and two fat rednecks that must have been what passed for successful businessmen in that part of Tennessee. They had the red faces of the terminally drunk, more chins than a Chinese phonebook, and the laugh of guys who expected the whole room to laugh with them. I hated them on sight and figured if I couldn’t get a decent lap dance I’d at least get a good fight in before the sun set and the real ass whoopin’ started.

I took up a seat at the end of the stage and looked up at a bored girl with stringy bleach-blonde hair and eight-inch clear lucite heels. She had tattoos covering her legs, track marks covering her arms, and a g-string covering her crotch. Otherwise she was naked as the day she was born and probably just as skinny. She saw me sit down and threw me the half-smile that says “yeah, it sucks, but we’re here together, so why not at least stare at my tits for a while?” At least, that’s what I figured it said, so I gave her a dollar and waved a hand at what passed for a cocktail waitress. It didn’t surprise me that the cocktail waitress was hotter than the stripper, that had made its way onto my checklist of nasty strip club qualities some years back. She jiggled her way over to me and I handed her a twenty.

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