The Bighead Read Online Free Page A

li’l cupcakelike tittes bobbin’ an’ all that—it put a
stiffer on Dicky a might quick, so’s he’s couldn’t help but pull
that bad boy out and have hisself a good wank in the weeds. But
just ’cos he had a wank didn’t mean that he ’proved’a what Balls’d
done. Come on! Snatchin’ a local gal right off the road? Beatin’
her in the head and humpin’ her poon ’gainst her will? That were
rape was what that were, an’ if this here gal could ’dentify ’em,
why, Dicky and Balls’d be pullin’ ’bout fifteen years apiece in the
county detent, gettin’ cornholed by big an’ mostly black fellas
ever-night, an’ havin’ ta suck peter ’less they wanted ta wind up
with their guts on the floor from a some con’s prison shiv. So’s
after Dicky were finished shakin’ the last’a his snot out his dick,
he objectered, “Hey, Balls! What’s’re we gonna do now?”
    “ I don’t knows ’bout you,
Dicky, but I’ll tells ya what I’m gonna do now. Hail. I’se gonna cornhole me this
bitch.” And just like that he up’n flips this poor screamin’ gal
over, takes a big hock ’tween her cheeks, an’ starts ta lay a
butt-fuckin’ on her somethin’ fierce, alls the while blood leakin’
out her pussy like a busted pipe.
    “ That ain’t whats I mean,
Balls!” Dicky fairly cried out. “I mean what if she up’n tells the
cops what we looks like?”
    “ Shut up whiles I’se have
me my nut,” Balls grunted aside, still humpin’ away. By now the
gal’s screamin’ fit had wound down an’ she were passin’ out again
after pukin’ once. Balls stepped up his humpin’, murmurin’, “Yeah,
oh daddy yeah! This is some cracker butt, I’ll’se tell ya! I’se
gonna squirt me a load’a the dicksnot right’n the middle’a her
shit!” An’, so, that’s just what Tritt “Balls” Conner done just
then, and when he were finished he pulled out an’ wiped his dirty
bone off on her purdy blond hair an’ then hocked a lunger on her
head.
    “ Jesus Chrast, Balls!’
Dicky contin-yer’d ta object. “She’s gonna up an’ tell the
poe-leece what we’se look like!”
    “ How’s that, Dicky?” Balls
inquired with that evil, cut grin’a his, an’ then he sat right
smack down onta the middle’a her back, pulled back on her head
until—
    crack!
    — her neck up’n
broke.
    “ She ain’t gonna tells no
one nothin’, ’cos dead crackers tell no tales,” Balls said,
sniffin’ the air. “Hail. Don’t’cha just hate the way yer dick
stinks after a cornholin’?”
    Anyways, that were the first killin’
they done, an’ after that there was many more. A hitchhiker here, a
broke down motorist there, gals, fellas, it didn’t make much matter
ta Balls. Shee-it, coupla times they’d pulled over to some fella
broke down and Balls’d pop him—BAM! Just like that!—in the head
with that big rusty pistol his daddy’d left him. Then another time
they’se was drivin’ down Davidsonville Road an’ they seed this old
lady wheelin’ out ta the end’a her drive ta git her mail, an’
they’se just pulled over lickety-split an’ Balls plucked her outa
that chair an’ throwed her in the back. Put a fierce conrholin’ on
her too—didn’t bother with her poon on account it was old an’
shriveled an’ a might ugly—once Dicky pulled off on one’a the old
loggin’ roads ’fore the Boone Federal Game Reserve. “How’s that fer
a butt-dickin’ grandmammy?” Balls gusted laughter. “Bet’cha ain’t
had it like that in fifty years!” Then Balls took a pause, starin’
down, an’ Dicky seed it too, this strange kinda bag hangin’ off the
side’a the ol’ lady’s belly. “Wells don’t that beat all!” Balls
exclaimed.
    “ Whuh-what it is, Balls?”
Dicky inquired.
    “ It’s a colosteramy bag! I
know ’cos my Uncle Nat had one. See, the docs give ya one’a these
when ya cain’t shit out yer a-hole no more. They’se repipe yer guts
to yer side an’ make a hole there