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an excerpt

[Background - 'Memo is the main character. His girlfriend, Lucia, is having serious doubts about their relationship. In a recent chapter, she just describes how they have just had the worst sex ever. That becomes important in this chapter].

CHAPTER 10

It was early in the morning on Sunday and I was at Keith’s shitty little apartment off El Cajon Boulevard attaching the Playstation to Keith’s television.

“I don’t know,” Keith said, “why you would be here on your one fucking day off. Not that I mind the idea of hanging out and shooting some vampire Nazis, but don’t you have a girlfriend?”

We were going to spend the day playing Vampyr Reich II – in which they would lead an Allied sniper team trapped deep behind enemy line in 1939 Germany, set on destroying Hitler’s secret coven of blood-sucking undead super warriors. Once my paycheck hit I had run to the stores to buy it, so I had a bit of a head start on Keith.

While I was working on getting the consul set up, Keith was sitting on the couch setting up the bong. We had the drugs and pizza on the way, and we had hours and hours of time to spend blowing shit up; it would be a fun Sunday.

“I don’t understand,” I said as he tried to get all the wires properly connected. “How you can afford a thirty-six inch television while you’re working your shitty job.”

“Hello,” Keith said in an artificially polite and chipper, but slightly robotic, phone voice. “My name is Keith and I’m calling you on behalf of Rudy Guilani. Rudy is the Republican with the best chance of defeating Hillary Clinton. But without your help…”

“Take me off the list,” I said.

“Most don’t say that,” Keith said. “If they don’t hang up, they talk to me. Sometimes it’s even a pretty good conversation. I wonder if they know most of us are convicts.”

Keith was having trouble adapting to the game. No wonder -- the monsters seemed to come out of nowhere, particularly since they could fly. I was still having some problems with it. Plus, for a lot of scenes, there was very bad visibility and the vampires would just blend into the shadows. It seemed like they couldn’t even trust the physics of the game as if the universe was conspiring against them. “It’s like a bad LSD trip,” Keith said.

“Left index finger,” I said. “Get in the habit of rolling after you shoot.”

“Good thought.”

“Do they have centers on the inside?” I asked.

“A few places,” he said. “But I meant on the outside, too. Most of us have been inside. How else are you going to pay people seven dollars an hour in San Diego and have anyone take the job.”
“Anyway,” Keith said, “I have the TV because I have priorities. And I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I’m here,” I said. “Because things with Lucia have been strange.”

A vampire snuck up behind me, and got his fangs into me.

“That game was a waste,” I said. “Jesus this is hard.”

“We’ll start again,” Keith said as he plugged in the game again. “How have things been strange? And do you want to be in charge of the Russians or the UK and US?”

“I’ll take the Russians,” I said. “They have the best accuracy.”

But our next game didn’t go any better. Our party got wiped out by a bunch of human Nazis. Sure it was a Panzer tank division, but still. Teaches us not to do enough scouting in advance.

“With Lucia,” I said as they started the game. He blew the head off of a Nazi. But it was just a human, so he didn’t get much experience. “It’s been strange. First we were having no sex at all, and then we have the best sex of my life and since then she’s been strange.”

“Best sex of your life?” Keith said.

“It was amazing,” I said. “Seriously, it was like the best porno ever.”

“It couldn’t have been that good; there were no lesbians,” Keith paused. “There were no lesbians, right?”

“No,” I said. “Of course not. What the fuck does that matter anyway?”

“You can’t have porn-like sex without lesbians. Lesbians are the most essential part of porn. Lesbian free porn sex is like talking about a vodka-free screwdriver. That’s not a screwdriver. It’s orange juice. Lesbian-free porn sex is the orange juice of sex. No matter how much you talk it up, no matter what crazy shit you pulled, no matter how many times she came or whether you pulled out the handcuffs, the whip and the spatula, it’s just not a screwdriver.”

“Bullshit,” I said. “That is complete bullshit. Besides, lesbians are the least essential part of porn. They’re clearly not even all that into it. Most of them probably don’t even like women.”

“Man,” Keith said. “You don’t know your porn starlets. Most of them love women. They get tired of dick.”

“Fuck man,” I said, deferring to his expertise. “Don’t shatter my illusions.”

“Anyway,” he said. “What do you want? Porn stars who are broad-shouldered, flannel wearing, softball playing superdykes? It’d be realistic, but who would want to see it. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me you’re against boob jobs. Realism is overrated. What I want are women with great big tits, naked. Lesbianism in porn just doubles the women and the tits.”

“I love the tits, but the lesbianism is just not my thing,” I said. “Besides you’re wrong. There is plenty of porn without lesbians. What about Mr. Ian Woon? ‘Start your day with that big-dick feeling?’”

“Crap,” Keith said. “He doesn’t count. That’s fucking geriatric porn. The entire point of the genre is to see 80 year old men with super-schlongs still able to fuck twenty-year old cheerleaders silly.”

“I want to be Ian Woon when I grow up,” I said. “I can’t believe that pecker of his still works. It’s a freakin’ national treasure.”

“Not ours, though,” Keith said. “British.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah,” He said. “He was born in Singapore but adopted and raised in the UK. Has been doing films in Europe since the fifties.”

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiit,” I said. “That’s insane. But the point is this: do you see any lesbianism in his films? No. They’re just an hour and fifteen minutes of badass supersex from a guy who has probably done everything there is to do.”

“Point made,” Keith said. “So you just pulled out all the tricks?”

“Seriously,” I said. “It was like a graduate course on fucking. I was pulling shit out from the back pages of the Kama Sutra. Hell, I may have invented shit that has never been done.”

“Everything’s been done,” Keith said. “Probably by Mr. Ian Woon.”

Our characters were trying to break into a castle that a group of the vampires were using as an outpost. “Shit,” I said after Keith’s character died. Again. “We’re not ready for this.”

“How are we supposed to get past those walls?” Keith said. “It’s not like we can lay siege. We have six guys, not a freakin’ army.”

“We’ve just got to think.”

“You know what this game needs,” Keith said. “Ninja practice.”

“What the fuck?” I said. “This game is in the Atlantic fucking theater. How is there going to be ninja practice?”

“I don’t give a shit about realism – this is a bunch of fucking Nazi vampires” he said. “Last I knew, the Third Reich was vampire-free. I just want to be able to get into that god damn castle. Grappling hooks?”

“Yeah,” I said. “We can get some in the town.”

We doubled back to the town, killing a few stray soldiers on the way back and picking up some equipment and goods to sell on the black market.

“Anyway, this was like the A-plus performance of my lifetime. It seemed to last forever, all the transitions from position to position were natural and graceful. Plus, we didn’t have to talk every damn step out in advance. It was perfect. But she’s been so odd since.”

“Odd how?”

“Just sort of distant. She doesn’t seem to want to spend any time together, not that we have much time to spend together anyway. I think maybe her friends don’t like me though. I don’t know that I get it.”

The door rang. It was the pizza. We paused the game and sat down and downed a few slices while it was still steaming hot. Keith got a few beers from the fridge.

“Shit,” Keith said. “I don’t know man. Maybe she’s not for you.”

“I’m thinking maybe it’s my job,” I said. “I work these ungodly hours.”

“You’ve always worked ungodly hours.”

“Yeah, but things are also getting strange at work. I think someone’s getting away with something. There’s pressure to make as many deals as we can as quick as we can. It’s just a strange atmosphere right now.”

“Shit, someone’s got his hand in the cookie jar? How much?”

“Best I can tell,” I said. “I’m guessing about ten million. It’s two hundred-thousand or three-hundred thousand at a time and would take years to build up to that much, but that’s something like what they’d get if they got away with it.”

“You going to the cops?” Keith asked.

“I don’t even know who is doing it,” I said. “The ten million. For all I know, its my boss. He’s the only one with the authority. But he seems like such a dumb prick and the whole thing looks pretty sophisticated. I can’t imagine he’d be able to work it all out. I think the stress about thinking about all of that is just getting to me. Maybe I’m a pain in the ass to live with.”

“But even if I did know,” I said. “I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll try to get a piece.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Keith said.

“It’s ten fucking million dollars.”

“Shit man, prison sucks,” Keith said. “It’s not worth it man.”

“Not worth ten million dollars?”

“Getting ten million and getting off scot-free would be fine,” Keith said. “But if you get caught you will spend the rest of your life regretting one dumbass fucking decision.”

“Shit,” I said. “You survived it. I could survive it.”

“Look,” Keith said. “It’s not about being in prison. That shit is hard but you can handle it. It’s about getting out of fucking prison. Do you know how hard it is to ‘start my day with that big-dick feeling?’ It’s fucking impossible. Everyone treats you like you’re crap. My sister looks at me like I’m a rapist and won’t let me near her children. When I’m with my family it’s like I’m invisible or like they think anything they do will send me back to being like that. Your mother is proud of you,” Keith said. “I know. She talks about you all the time.”

“Sure,” I said. “Miguel told me that too. But just about everyone’s got that.”

“Lucky souls,” Keith said. “Maybe you think that she’ll love you anyway. She probably will. But love and respect aren’t the same things. Don’t lose your family’s respect.”

“Kind of preachy,” I said. “For a guy with a bong in front of him.” I took a hit.

“Shit man,” Keith said. “We all make choices and we either improve things or make things worse. For me taking a few hits off a bong while shooting some fucking vampire Nazis is improvement. I’m not on the street. I’m not hustling drug money. I show up to work every day on time. I’m keeping my habits,” he said pointing at the bong, “pretty minimal. Small steps.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re a fucking saint. Why don’t we get in a big god damn drum circle and share a big hug.”

“Fuck you,” he said. “Look, man I’ve made a shit load of mistakes. I just don’t want to see you start moving backwards and end up doing the same thing.”

“Watch out for the guy with the grenade in the church,” I said.

Keith dove behind a rock and threw a knife at the soldier.

“Who needs fucking ninja school?” he said.