God Laughs Ch. 01

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We had a plan to deal with a blackmailer. As they say...
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Part 1 of the 8 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/28/2018
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Chapter one:

This is a chain story written by Jezzaz, Todd172, Stev2244, Harddaysknight, Girlinthemoon, Qhml1, Oshaw and blackrandl1958. A different author wrote each chapter in this story, building on the work of the preceding author. We are submitting one chapter each day until the story is finished. We would like for you, the readers, to see if you can spot who wrote the different chapters. If you care to hazard a guess, you may leave it in a comment on the last chapter of the story. If no one is right, we will pick the one closest to right and one, or more, of us will dedicate our next story to you. If multiple persons are right, we will dedicate the story to all who are right. We will wait one week after the posting of the last chapter, then announce which chapter was written by which author. This was a very entertaining exercise for us, and we may do it again. We enjoyed writing it and we hope you enjoy the story, Napalminthemorning.

*

Numb, about half my body was just numb. My left arm and left leg were just dead to the world; I tried to shift, but not particularly successfully. I braced myself for searing pain as I forced my eyes open, but the pain didn't come, thank God. Instead, I found myself staring up at an odd black rectangular frame... It slowly dawned on me what it was. I touched the surface under me with my right hand and felt... felt... pool table felt. The black rectangle was the light over the pool table in the game room. I tried to shift again and realized I was pinned to the table by a weight.

I looked down into a mass of brilliant red hair. It certainly wasn't a natural color, except, I think, on a macaw. It looked like the sides of her head were shaved, leaving a massive crest of hair that trailed almost down to her ass. I pushed gently, unsuccessfully, then shoved hard, rolling her off me. She slumped away, freeing me, although the pins and needles that exploded along my side instantly made me regret it. I managed to push myself up to a sitting position and looked down at my companion. She mumbled something, shifted back to her side and began snoring softly.

She had every piercing imaginable: ears, eyebrows, lips. I glanced further down at a massive set of tits with very large very prominent pierced nipples. For all their size, they looked natural; if they were implants, I think they'd planted pumpkins. I wasn't sure how on earth she even managed to walk upright; she just had to have back problems.

There were at least eight... no, it was thirteen of those damned Jell-O shot-cups crushed on the pool table. I shuddered; it was a wonder we were even alive. As I shifted positions, I just missed clocking myself with the light fixture. There was a slight wave of dizziness, but it passed quickly. The pins and needles burning along my left side slowly subsided. In the corner of the room, over by the bar, a pale figure was curled up, half sitting, half lying around what appeared to be an empty magnum of my good champagne. I squinted. She was slender as a reed and pale enough to be an albino. Her hair was short fine white silk. Nearly inhumanly pretty, the only thing that made her seem real was the thin string of drool connecting her pale lips to the floor. As I slid off the table, my foot hit something soft, but heavy, and I damn near fell on my face. I managed to catch my balance and half-step, half tumble, over the two intertwined bodies while remaining upright.

I glanced back. Officer Julie Niederhauser, in all her blonde and busty glory, was lying tangled up with that gang leader, Tyrone whatever-his-name-was. All he had on was that stupid green bandana; all she had on was her gun belt, mirrored sunglasses and hat. His hands were still cuffed behind his back and the marks where she'd tasered him were still there. He was almost certainly be headed to prison, but from the look on his face, he'd still be smiling when he got there.

Officer Neiderhauser shifted, exposing Tyrone's groin. I winced. He'd be smiling going to prison, but it'd be a wonder if she didn't walk bow-legged for a year. Damn thing looked like a police baton, only bigger. How the hell she'd fit it all in without permanent injury was beyond me. The scene was macabre, surreal, stark: the wonder of it all. As my head cleared, I wondered where the hell Amber had gotten off to. My wife and I had become separated when the police arrived and, well, things had gotten a little out of hand. I glanced out the window overlooking the cobblestone circle-drive that ended the long lane to our place. I could see the red and blue lights of the four police cars still flickering around the cherub covered fountain, although the rising sun was starting to overwhelm them. At least somebody had turned off the damn sirens.

I needed to go find Amber, start figuring out how to deal with the fallout from this and try to protect Graham Enterprises as much as possible. I had no idea where my suit had ended up, but I found Tyrone's ridiculously baggy jeans and boxers on the floor. I left the boxers, but pulled the jeans on, stealing a curtain tie to use as a belt to keep them up. Sure, I know you're supposed to wear them sagging, but that's for young guys, not middle-aged entrepreneurs.

He had a wallet, so I pulled it out to drop it on the floor next to him. My curiosity got the better of me and I looked through it.

Hell, his name wasn't even Tyrone, it was Kevin Peters. Well shit, I'd use another name, too, if I were a gangsta. I mean, face it: "Kevin's gonna cap yo' ass," just doesn't have the same ring.

He had a grand total of seventeen dollars, one unused condom and a coupon for Bounty paper towels. Damn coupon was expired, too.

I walked slowly out of the game room and looked down over the entryway great-room from the railing. I could stop wondering where my suit was, the Armani jacket and pants were hanging from that ridiculously expensive and ornate chandelier that we'd just "had to have." At least they looked like mine. There were at least fifty helium filled balloon animals scattered in little herds all over the arched ceiling.

There was still a fire going in the fireplace, but even without it, there was enough light filtering in from the sunrise to show the bodies strewn all over the room. There were three guys and two women on the polar bear rug, and at least two of the five were cops, that is, if the hats on the girls were any indication. The tattoos on one of the girls made it clear that she, for one, was a gang girl, not a cop. More were scattered in couples and triples on the couches, the area rug, the easy chairs, and that weird fainting couch thing of Amber's.

I damn near fell over the handrail when I saw Amber's boss, Jack Salinger, cuddled up in the loving arms of a massive tattooed and Fu-Manchu mustached Chinese weightlifter. Jack had on eye shadow, mascara and brilliant pink metallic lipstick. He had on a sparkly pink dog collar with a matching leash; his butt was striped with whip marks. Served the blackmailing scumbag right; it looked like he got what he deserved. He actually looked happy, though, so maybe he hadn't gotten what he deserved. I decided I'd have to fix that.

I headed slowly down the stairs, picking my way through discarded clothing, shoes, and tons of empty booze bottles, a lot more than had been in my bar. I was pretty sure I hadn't had any Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill or MD 20/20 down in the wine cellar. I sincerely doubted I had anything left in the wine cellar at all now.

A midget with long blonde hair, a leather corset and a strap on that was nearly as long as she was tall was slumped against the bottom stair, talking in her sleep. I wasn't quite sure what she was dreaming about, but it sounded like whoever "Richard" was had some surprises coming in the near future. I strongly hoped he had an extra-large bottle of lube nearby when she found him.

Since my study was just off the great room, I went in and pulled my cell phone out of the desk. I had a few pictures to take, for posterity, of course.

Afterwards, I picked my way across the house, avoiding waking anyone until I got the kitchen. It was surprisingly neat, all things considered. Two figures sat at the breakfast table. The slender Hispanic woman with short dark hair, dark eyes and Castilian facial features looked up from the cutting board she was slicing fruit and cheese on long enough to offer a knowing smile of recognition. "Oye como va..."

"Mi ritmo." I answered with my own smile.

"You speak Spanish?" Her companion, a lusciously curvy blue-eyed blonde wearing nothing but a cowboy hat, didn't look over at me. She stared, transfixed, at those dark eyes.

"No, it's song lyrics. Santana. I think it means something like 'Come and feel my rhythm'."

"Damn. I'm going to have to learn Spanish." Her eyes never wavered from their target.

We both watched appreciatively as the sloe-eyed woman turned and stretched up to pull three plates and three cups out of the cabinet. She was only wearing a thin gold waist chain. She quickly arranged three plates and poured three cups of coffee, pushing one of each to me and the blonde.

While we ate, the two of them settled into staring quietly, but intensely, into each other's eyes. I waited until I finished, then asked. "Have you seen a woman named Amber floating around?"

There was a long pause before the blonde could focus on the question. "No... wasn't really catching names, if you know what I mean. Mine's Bobbi Sue, if it matters." She watched the woman sip her coffee. "Do you know what her name is?"

"No..." I thought back to Sesame Street and looked over at the Spanish woman. "Cual es tu nombre?"

She gave that same knowing smile, but it was aimed at the cowgirl. "Teresa."

"Teresa." Bobbi Sue repeated it breathily, as if it was a holy word.

Teresa got up, reached over, took Bobbi Sue's hand and led her silently out of the kitchen towards one of the spare rooms. I watched appreciatively; two completely different, yet completely perfect butts swayed in perfect, breathtaking rhythm as they walked away.

I blinked, sighed, then cleared the table and refilled my coffee cup. I stopped and pulled down another coffee cup. Amber was probably going to need it.

*****

I watched a figure stumble out of the pool-house, mostly naked, slender, small-breasted, with a perfect even tan. I walked down the stone stairs towards her. She looked up at me glassy-eyed and dazed looking, wiped her face with her right hand, then stared at the black rubber glove on her hand and shrugged. She still had on one boot, but what little remained of the CDC biohazard suit was hanging in long yellow shreds from the intact collar ring, like a mockery of the gold necklace of an Aztec sacrificial virgin. The bubble headpiece was nowhere to be seen.

"You're missing a boot."

"Yeah." She looked at me, more than a little concern on her face.

"You want to go get it?"

She looked back at the pool house and shuddered. "No. Definitely not." She tried to run her fingers through her short matted brown hair, but until she had a long shower, a really long shower with about a gallon of shampoo, that wasn't going to work. She looked for a second as if she was going to lose it, but she managed to hold it together. "I need a shower."

"It's a bit crowded in the master-suite shower right now. Unless you're interested in a brother-sister acrobat team. They're twins."

"I think... yeah, I'm sure I met them. I'll pass."

"You'd have to wake them up anyway. There's still the shower in the pool-house"

"No!" She shivered, wide eyed, then seemed to calm herself a bit. "Just, no."

I could see the future involved building a new pool house. Good to know. I held the extra cup of coffee up.

"Omigod, I love you so much." She started to reach for it then stopped, pulled off the rubber glove and found herself at a complete loss as to where to put it. She shrugged, dropped it to the ground and took the coffee. "No pockets." She took a long slow sip of her coffee. "I may just be alive, after all."

We stepped slowly across the lawn. Three pizza delivery cars from different companies were still lined up in the circle drive. Amber glanced over at the house. "Is it a wreck in there?"

"Not as bad as you'd think. Wine cellar is empty, and there will be some serious cleaning to do."

I paused, trying to figure out how to get the polar bear rug cleaned for a second. "A lot of carpet steaming, I think. And bleach on every flat surface."

Amber studied the quiet front of the house. "Is there like a 'special forces' version of a maid service?"

"Okay, we may have to bring in a couple of maid services."

Amber rolled her eyes at me. "What, exactly, are we going to tell them?"

"Not the truth. Do you think 'crime scene' would be good enough?"

She gave a half-hearted smile. "Sure, why not?" She suddenly turned serious. "Jack..."

"Won't be a problem."

Her eyes widened. "You didn't do anything...." Her voice trailed off.

"Nope. But he will be far too busy keeping his head down and mouth shut to be a problem for us from now on." I held my cellphone up and showed her the pictures from the great room.

"Already stored these in about ten different places on the internet, just to be sure."

Her relief was obvious. "That's perfect."

We found our way to the gate through the hedge and stepped out into the circle drive. Amber stopped, looking down at three intertwined figures. "Huh."

She was staring at a naked rainbow-haired clown wedged between our landscapers, Pablo and Julio. She suddenly giggled, though it maybe sounded a little bit unhinged. "Her name is 'Bubbles,' right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I think that's what she said."

Amber giggled again. "Pablo, Bubbles, Julio... it's a PBJ sandwich."

I snickered along with her for a minute. "She's a clown, I bet she tastes funny."

"I'm sure she does now." Amber arched her eyebrow and smirked, then looked at Bubbles seriously. She gestured to her own collar bone. "I kind of thought they only put the white makeup on down to here or so..."

"Apparently not. I'm not even sure how it all stayed on." I leaned over and looked over Bubbles, myself, for science, of course. "And the, uh, heart-shaped carpet matches the rainbow drapes."

"Seriously?" Amber stepped closer and peered down past me. "Wow. She's really dedicated. You don't suppose her skin is actually snow-white, do you?"

I looked a little closer. "Could be, there's no smearing or anything."

Amber snickered. "Pretty good ass, for a white girl."

A snapping sound caught our attention. We both looked up and watched a long grey tentacle-like thing tear several branches of our expensive hedge away, leaving a gap through which a single wise eye peered at us knowingly, and, I thought, at least a little judgmentally, at least for a pachyderm wearing a red and gold banner proclaiming it a member of the "Smith Bros. Traveling Circus Extravaganza."

Amber shook her head and looked closer. "We're going to have to get new bushes put in."

"Not bushes! You must find us... duh, duh duuuuuuh! A shrubbery!"

Amber giggled. "'Ni! Ni!' But we still need one." The elephant pulled another bush out of the ground and began munching on it. "Or probably ten. Depends on how hungry he is."

"I'll tell Pablo and Julio to get right on that." I glanced over at them. "As soon as they get off Bubbles."

"Get off Bubbles or get Bubbles off?"

"Same difference."

Amber giggled a little madly. "Well, we'll know when they do. I think that was that her squeeze horn that kept sounding off last night."

"Yeah, probably." I pulled Amber over to the steps and we sat down heavily, Amber wincing in pain as her ass hit the stone.

We quietly sipped our coffee and gazed out over the wreckage.

Amber pointed. "What's that yellow thing in the swimming pool?"

I studied it for several seconds. "I think it's a bulldozer."

"Oh."

We just sat there for a while in silence, then she reached over, squeezed my hand, and gave me an off-kilter smile.

"Well. That didn't go as we planned."

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AnonymousAnonymous10 months ago

Predictably awesome, Todd.

OnlyInMyMindOnlyInMyMindabout 1 year ago

I want to go to one of their parties! Loved the low key wit. 5*

dgfergiedgfergieover 2 years ago

I tjought this sounded familiar, read it three months ago, still funny.

AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

That was Todd172's part.

dgfergiedgfergieover 2 years ago

Interesting, sounds like a tale of "The Morning After The Night Before". Look it up it's a great comedy standup routine by Shelly Burman from the sixties. Good writing sounds like a hell of a party! Would you really want on their guest list???

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