The Mayonnaise Murders Part 2 is coming Oct. 20. The wild and wacky adventures of the outcasts from Planet 10, the mutant human/chicken hybrids hell-bent on revenge, a poorly dressed human/critter halfbreed who leads them, and so much more…
Here is another sample scene.
Two hours later, Ronnie was behind the wheel of a red pickup truck headed east on I-70 coming out of the mountains back into Denver’s more level terrain, humming along to a tune on the radio by the Lords of Dreg. “Why Killing You is So Much Fun” was one of those upbeat kind of tunes where the title didn’t quite fit with the chaotic, carefree mood of the music. Butch wore a pair of large black wraparound shades and a tall beige-colored cowboy hat, together with a large-fitting blue jean shirt and an equally loose-fitting pair of work jeans. The cowboy look couldn’t go all the way however due to the odd configuration of his feet, which were just plain big, twisted and too ugly for cowboy boots. Pretty much what you’d expect from the rather perverse combination of a chicken and a human being. The expression on his face more or less matched the sight of his feet, which were stuffed into a pair of clown shoes.
“What is this we’re listening to?” he asked.
Ronnie glanced over at his traveling companion, saw the expression, and grinned.
“Fuckin Lords of Dreg, man. They’re what’s hot out there right now. You never heard?”
“Why in the hell would I have ever heard of this?”
Ronnie’s grin grew wider. He shrugged.
“I dunno. Maybe because just about everyone else in the world has heard of these guys, you know? Unless you been under some kinda rock or something I figured everybody’s heard of Lords of Dreg. Especially this tune. This tune is killer.”
“You trying to be funny now?”
“Hey lighten up, man, all right? We got a long ride ahead, and you got what you wanted with this ride-along and everything, so we might as well make it easy on ourselves right?”
“So listening to a song about why killing somebody is so much fun is your idea of how to relax and unwind?”
“Don’t ask me why, but it works for me. These guys just put me in a good mood. Besides, they’re not really sayin to go out and kill folks for fun or anything like that. They’re just…I dunno…they’re just sayin shit is all.”
Butch had to laugh.
“Just sayin shit. Yeah. OK. Just pick up the pace a bit whenever you don’t see any traffic cops around so I don’t have to listen to these clowns just sayin shit for too much longer. All right?”
“You’re the boss, man.”
“No. I’m just a really big chicken out for revenge against the humans, of which you happen to be one. You might wanna keep that in mind.”
Ronnie wasn’t grinning anymore.
“Believe me, it’s been on my mind for awhile now.”
The rest of the drive down to Denver was relatively uneventful until the pair pulled up in front of the distribution site. Daylight was already fading, and Butch was feeling the effects of the long drive, but the rundown look of the place made him particularly uncomfortable. The look of the characters hanging around the front door made him think he had traveled a little lighter than he should have.
Ronnie, on the other hand, looked calm and relaxed.
“So you wanna come inside with me, or you wanna wait here? I’m thinkin those clown shoes you got on might kinda distract from the business we have at hand, but it’s up to you.”
“Don’t worry about my shoes. These are temporary, just like a lotta things around here are gonna get temporary. Besides, what’s the use of me coming down all this way just to sit in the truck? You go on ahead and let them know…hey, who’s that?”
Ronnie turned his head and saw the short, stocky individual approaching the truck with a serious expression on his tattoed face.
“Royce…that’s Royce…and this doesn’t look good,” he said quietly.
Butch sat up a bit straighter and focused on the approaching Royce
“I think I agree with you.”
“Hey, Royce what’s up, man? Everything cool?”
Royce shook his head as he leaned against the truck.
“Naw. Everything definitely ain’t cool. Rodeo wants a meetup. Who’s the big ugly cowboy?”
Being called ‘ugly’ was another thing that tended to rub Butch the wrong way. His eyes narrowed behind his shades as he lowered his countenance to get a better look at this Royce guy over the top of his shades. Ronnie closed his eyes and shook his head.
“You know, I really wish you hadn’t said that.”
“Said what? You mean what I called your friend here? Shit, he is a big ugly cowboy. Ain’t you, hoss?”
Butch smiled, then reached over to squeeze Ronnie’s knee. Hard. Royce frowned.
“Hey now, you two guys ain’t like that, are you?”
Butch smiled wider, then began to laugh.
“This is priceless. Look, I’m about to get out of this truck and come around to talk to you for a minute, so why don’t you stay right there. OK, sweetheart?”
Royce’s body went noticeably rigid as he took a couple steps back. He patted his hand against a noticeable bulge on the left side of his jeans.
“Yo, how about you stay right where you are, Tex. You wanna talk, I can hear you from here.”
“Yeah. I bet you can. But what I got to say about bein’ called ugly by the likes of you I figure should be the kind of conversation the two of us really should have face-to-face. ‘Course, seein how short you are that would probably mean I’d have to stoop down a whole hell of a lot, but I’m game if you are, midget boy.”
Ronnie looked like he was about to cry.
“Aw man…here we go…”
Royce had just pulled out a pistol that unfolded into the size of his forearm and was pointed directly at Butch, which meant he was also likely to erase a good portion of Ronnie’s face as well if he decided to pull the trigger. But then, just like in the movies, Rodeo’s stocky frame appeared in the well-lit doorway. Butch could tell by the comfortable stance that he was definitely the one in charge. He was smoking a long, thin brown cigar or cigarette. Butch couldn’t tell quite which from where he was sitting. Rodeo’s hands were in the pockets of his overly baggy jeans, and he was smiling his amusement.
“Put the damn gun down, Royce.”
“Man, you hear what he…?”
“I heard you call the man an ugly cowboy. That’s what I heard. And Ronnie’s a partner. Full partner. You just work here ’cause I say it’s OK. Now you put that gun back in your pants next to that other itty bitty weapon of yours otherwise we gonna have some issues you don’t wanna deal with.”
Royce was brown-skinned, but Butch thought he noticed him turn rather pale. This was fun. Ronnie took a deep breath. Nodded at Rodeo. Rodeo nodded back.
“You guys come on in.”
“Problem?” asked Ronnie.
Ronnie rolled up the windows of the truck. As Butch started to exit his side, Ronnie reached over and grabbed his forearm.
“Now you see why it’s a good idea to check in with these guys every once and awhile? Huh?”
“OK. Your point. Let’s go.”
Once inside, Rodeo motioned for them to enter a medium-sized room to the left. There wasn’t much inside save for a broad desk with a computer on top, a few stuffed chairs and a sofa. Butch and Ronnie headed for the sofa.
“My office,” said Rodeo, as he closed the door behind them.
“So I sure hope there’s nothing wrong with the product or anything like that..?” said Ronnie, as he and Butch sat down.
Rodeo leaned back from his desk and took a long drag from what Butch could now see was a thin cigar.
“First, I need to ask about those clown shoes your buddy here got on. I’m an open-minded kinda guy but I gotta say this has me a little concerned, Ronnie. So…?”
Butch looked over at Ronnie, then back at Rodeo who was smiling calmly.
“Let’s just say I have this condition with my feet. Ugly kinda thing, but I’m always hoping for a cure. We’ll see. Meanwhile, I’m stuck with the colorful footwear. Wouldn’t be my first choice, but I gotta do what the doctor says, you know?”
Rodeo nodded, still smiling. Took a long, slow drag on his cigar, then released an equally slow stream of smoke. He chuckled.
“OK, all of us in this room know that’s bullshit, right? But seeing as how nobody’s ever killed anyone I know with a pair of ugly-assed shoes then I’m gonna leave it at that. You wanna look strange, that’s your business, so long as it doesn’t interfere with our business. We all good?”
“We’re good, Rodeo. So, now, like I said, this isn’t about any problem with the product I hope…?
“Well, let’s say yes and no. The problem we have is the product may be too good, which means we’re getting some unwanted attention from competitors. Seems a growing number of the other guys’ clients have been getting the word about MayoMadd and abandoning the other stuff on the street to get to what we got. So the good news is we got a good product which we pretty much knew all along. But the flipside is we’re startin to piss off some folks we probably don’t wanna piss off. I been operating around these guys for a long time, and some of them go back to my old man’s days in the business. So we’ve always had an understanding that kinda lets everyone tend to their needs and get fat and happy without causin too much disruption to the others.”
“Damn. Honor among thieves. How you manage that?” asked Butch.
“Is there a reason why you’re still wearin those shades, my man? You know the sun is goin down.”
“First you worried about my feet, now it’s my eyes gettin on your nerves?”
“Well, actually the gloves got me wonderin too, but whatever. I been in this business a long time, and I’ve seen all kinds. Some stranger than you if you can believe that.”
“Yeah. Imagine. Anyway, this hasn’t got a damned thing to do with honor, and we ain’t thieves. This is about conducting business in a way that makes sense for everybody so there’s more money in the bank and less bodies in the streets and behind bars. You hear what I’m sayin..?”
“I think I hear what you’re sayin, but what does that mean for us?” asked Ronnie. “Are they gonna cause us a problem is all I need to know.”
“They could. Matter of fact I’m predicting they’re gonna cause us a lotta problems, which is why I’m glad you showed up. I was gonna be reaching out to you, so you just saved me a call.”
“You thinking they want a cut? Because we both know that can’t happen. Once we start dealin through multiple suppliers we got multiple exposure, and that puts us at too much risk. So what do we do?”
Normally I’d do what you’re saying not to do just to keep the peace, but I kinda figured this is what you’d say, and I do see the point. This ain’t your average dope you got here. This is something special.”
“So I’m thinking maybe we go another way on this. Another way that hopefully keeps us out of a gang war.”
“I thought you said you had an understanding with these guys,” said Butch.
“I do. But at the end of the day? We’re all still just thugs and gangsters. Peace and harmony can only last for so long before we start to itch.”
“So what’s your plan?” asked Ronnie.
“I got somebody on the inside at DPD. Owes me a few favors carried over from my dad. May be time to call ’em in.”
“Look at you! All connected and stuff.”
“Like I said. I been in the business a long time.”