Finally finished this. Thank You to the band: End of Science for a great tune and to the actors some of whom are pissed at me at the moment.
Two Months Later
THE HUNTING TRIP
Rosie has boobies and wears a bra. She is smart with freckles and a cream face. When I hang around Rosie, I can be mean. I’m not sure why. Today the victim is brown-eyed Sandy.
“Got the bags?” I ask Rosie.
“Oh, heck yeah. They’ve been sitting in my locker all day.” She opens the door to her school locker.
“Gross! That stinks,” Lorena says. “It smells like something died.” She plugs her nose with her fingers.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I put them in my locker. I should have hid them in a bush somewhere.”
“How many did you bring?” Lorena asks.
“Three bags.” Rosie moves some books out of the way. We see three large, clear bags filled with what looks like vomit inside them.
“What’s in it?” I ask.
“Well, I couldn’t get any poop out of Sugar, so I mixed the bags with other crap like mayonnaise, sugar, mustard, A1 sauce and some of my poop.”
“You put your poop in it?”
“I thought little Chihuahua dogs poop like crazy,” Lorena says.
“I think Sugar’s constipated. I couldn’t get any out of her.” Rosie hands Lorena and me a bag.
“This is gonna be funny. I can’t wait to see her face,” Lorena says.
“I see her,” I say. The three of us watch Sandy. Her long blonde ponytail bounces, her red ribbon neat and tight. She carries her books through the thick green grass of our school ball field. The three of us grab the bags from Rosie and run. We catch up to Sandy. Now she walks on the sidewalk. We stalk our prey.
“Hey Sandy,” Rosie says.
“Hey girls!” Sandy says.
I don’t take my eyes off of her. My mouth waters.
“Hey, Sandy, want some Tootsie Rolls?” I ask.
“Tootsie Rolls?” she asks.
“Yeah! Here you go. Eat this!” Rosie snatches Sandy around her waist and pulls her to the ground.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Lorena comes up from behind and grabs Sandy hard on the neck. She presses Sandy’s face to the asphalt. Rosie holds her down.
“No!” Sandy screams. “Stop it! Leave me alone! What are you doing?”
Kids who walk home from school stop to watch.
“Get the rabbit!” Someone in the crowd yells. I straddle Sandy’s body.I open the bag and release the contents of the bag onto Sandy’s face.
“Ugh! Ugh!” she sobs.
I ignore her. I press down on Sandy’s shoulders with my knees.
My fingers frost her face. Sandy becomes tranquilized.
She wears a mask of make-believe feces. Two holes expose her watered eyes.
We take turns…