Digital Underground - uXu - Underground eXperts United #uxu-467

### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # ## ## ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## #### ## ## #### # # ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ## ####### ## [ One Night In The Asshole Saloon ] [ By Max West ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ ONE NIGHT IN THE ASSHOLE SALOON "Check it out," Joe whispered over one shoulder, "Your going to dig this!" "OK FOLKS!" The balding M.C. in baggy blue jeans, boots and red checked shirt bawled from the stage. "Tonight you all know what we got. Yeah, a real favorite here'bouts at the Asshole Saloon, so I want y'all, umm hum, even you fuckers down there under the tables, (ripple of polite laughter from the audience), to put your hands together and welcome Jeb, Ed and Louise!, Three lean and mean U.S. marshals all the way from Warshington DC! Along with their technical advisor, Link Large-dong!" The smirking M.C. turned, flinging an aside to his challengers, "You guys all ready to meet PECKER!!" he yells out the last word while the crowd erupts into near ecstasy at the mention of the name, clapping shouting, spitting, coming on themselves. "THAT'S RIGHT!!" the announcer stokes the willing group. "Joe Rock's man eating hoss, PEC-KER!!, (more crowd joy), In a duel to the death with our brave contestants, right here, right now!" It's a barely restrained group that rips into foot stomping, rebel yells, gags and whistles, watching the eager approach of the marshals in full riot gear carrying Uzi submachine guns and electric cattle prods. They step up smartly to their marks on the stage. Loud cheers rip from the spectators when Pecker, clad from snout to hoof in shiny black body armor with yellow racing stripes, emerges from the opposite side of the platform, lips rippling back in a patented grin, showing off a set of teeth that'd make a Tyrannosaurus faint. Logan checks the strings of saliva dripping off Pecker's fangs by the light of the colored spots overhead. His thoughts on it: "An excessive display," "Nice horsy!" Somebody whooped as the combatants begin to circle each other. What ensues doesn't please Logan in the least, though it's not because of the show; it was that damned animal. Meanwhile, the crowd eats it up: Louise, a whirl of snarling, Dykish fury, leaps forward with authority trying to poke Pecker under his head armor with her electric baton. Logan can see that this marshal, a stocky, well muscled, crew cut fighting law person wants to end this thing as quickly as possible-her partners spread strategically on either side, leveling their Uzi's waiting for her to get into it before they start fighting. She's a proud one but not too bright; In fact, though she possesses the very traits demanded by her profession, this isn't like beating up a hog-tied Nigger and she predictably underestimates both Peck's speed and intelligence. The very first prod that connects is more than enough for this gifted wonder horse. In a blinding flash, too rapid to follow, Pecker lunges in close and simply bites her whole face off, skin and bone. The shocked troopers stare, nearly immobilized at the sight of "one of their own" downed with such efficiency. Sprays of blood coming from the hole in their companion's skull finally galvanizes them into action. They panic fire, sending staccato bursts of hot lead more or less in Pecker's direction but mostly into the audience. Ricocheting slugs fly in every direction through the bar but the wise patrons just laugh and duck even though a couple of tourists are killed instantly. Meanwhile, the normally cool headed Pecker's dander has become ruffled. It was the cattle prods and their implied connection with fucking Cows, that did it! He fuckin' hated cows! With a snort he turns crosswise to the two men, executing one of his favorite tactical maneuvers, simultaneously kicking the cop behind him with both hooves, crushing his chest flat, then using his forward momentum to propel his jaws into position, completely snapping off the other trooper's head at the neck. It is at about this time that the mutant Mountain Gorilla is released from the booth backstage where it's been watching the action on a monitor all along-he replaced Link Largedong who'd decided to cancel at the last minute. It's a hopeless mismatch. Even though the Gorilla's IQ has been artificially boosted, it still can't handle the chainsaw or the automatic shot gun it's got for weapons, so almost immediately it cuts off one of it's own legs and let's fly with both barrels into the exposed ass of the fattest whore in the house whose trying to take a shit on her boyfriend's face as a sort of tribute to the magnificent wonder horse. Pecker advances on his lonely prey to bite off the other leg and one arm at the shoulder, leaving for later the clumsy ape howling in it's own fluids. Yeah, our old maneater has become very agitated by this sport, the four feet of straining equestrian cock emerging from it's sheath testifies to this fact nicely. Pecker further amazes the fans with his agile teeth and flexible snout, ripping the uniform pants off the slaughtered marshals, flipping them onto their stomachs and nudging their legs apart. Fires of roguish desire has done lit up the turgid pits of his eyes and now the indomitable Pecker will have his desert. The audience has waited for this moment, some have maybe waited all their lives; the looks of rapture and glee on their otherwise slack faces tells it's own story loud and clear. The handicapped Gorilla watching the fate of his comrades in arms, let's out a hoot while it tries to crawl away, it's one good hand clawing splinters out of the stage floor, stubbornly trying to save what's left of it's dignity. A very horny Pecker reaches over to hold him down with one hoof while he finishes buggering the endearingly dead officers. When he's done all he can, he tears most of the meat off their skeletons and eats his fill between huge mouthfuls of twelve year old Scotch from a nearby bucket, generously provided by the management. "My God!" Logan whispered, amazed, "The son-of-a-bitch's appetite is unbelievable!" A few of the rowdies down front could hear the Mountain Ape praying in heavily accented English to whatever worthless god apes worship, while above it the inflamed hoofster prepares to mount. By this time the crowd has gone crazy. Mosh pits form down front of the stage after Joe signals the loud and boisterous house band, The Poppin' Boilmiesters, to rev up to full volume. Half naked men and women, drag queens and shaved goats start screaming and hunching on anything or anyone that moves; Some of the nightclubbers just grab bottles, brooms or walking sticks, jamming them into all proffered holes. Dogs bark and snap at the shadows while cats wail in heat, spraying the patrons. On the counter the mascot hamsters rut in their bed of wood chips, blending their squeaks of maddened lust-joy with the shouts of victory from the winning betters. But it was when Pecker decided to regurge onto the back of the unlucky Gorilla's head preparatory to fucking it, that Logan figured he'd just about had all he was going to take. In a flash he pulled his silenced 9mm Gobstopper free and sent a slug across the room unerringly straight to the open eye slit of the War-horse's helmet through his brain and out the other side dropping the animal where it stood. Poor Pecker's hose didn't get the message for at least fifteen seconds, flopping unguided against the sagging buttocks of it's sobbing victim. In the hush that followed, right before the general outcry, Joe Rock belched, "Nice shot man!" A ripple of booze and dope soaked electricity was frazzling up the already tweaked patrons as more and more of them got the idea that this wasn't just part of the act. Somebody upchucked like Old Faithful in the dimness close to them-Pecker was cold cocked! The word was spreading - "C'mon, we better get upstairs-my office-shottin' down the only real celebrity we had 'round here was pretty risky, pardner." They moved like ghosts against the background of heavy metal Surf coming off the stage, through a tenebrous night tableau of smoky shapes and bleary white smudges of faces lit by the occasional match flair over a Bong pipe or the reflection off blue steel razors and guns. They were heading toward the elaborate Rococo staircase in the back. The room was so charged up with outrage and malice that nobody was watching them - a few fights had started by the stage and the blood bath would soon be in full force. Even though nobody was watching them, they stayed close to the walls anyway. Passing two Dykes carving Pecker's name with a Bowie knife onto a passed out drunk's back, Joe commented, "They loved that hoss!" "Ah, Hell! Sorry, man" Logan shot back halfheartedly. "No, no pal, don't get me wrong," Joe reassured him, "I loved Pecker like a brother, but that animal was getting' too damn mean, ya know?" Logan shook his head. He didn't really know and didn't really want to. They'd been up in that Arroyo pulling some deal Joe'd cooked up-he was so proud of that sick pony-half it's hide was falling off, looked like it survived Hiroshima or some shit; It was all fucked up but Joe assured him that it had potential and he was going to call it, Pecker. "Got to where he was eatin' down two, three cops a week," Joe rambled on. Logan was still sifting around in the sewage of his memories: After that shit had fallen through in a way he'd rather not recall, he'd blacked out and when he came to, it was just him, his dead horse and the ever brutal Pecker. Joe was no place in sight. When the disgusting creature had started vomiting those human hands and half digested heads, he'd been outta there. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #467 Underground eXperts United 1998 uXu #467 http://uXu.org ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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