such a blessing to me…be a dear, and if I am napping when you return.”
“I know…don’t bother you.”
She moved graciously away from the strange little man who seemed a compellation of Woody Allen, Capote or Jack Lemon. She walked toward the center of the foyer where a long breakfast buffet with stacks and stacks of food and fruit appeared to be three feet high attracting the party goers as they moved along the line eating and talking gaily…but all the eyes were on her ass which had a taunt bounce, not huge like a Kardashian or a so called “ghetto ass,” but just the right size that you knew it was there and longed to grab it with both hands.
Several of the male guest pointed at the woman and licked their lips. Of course she noticed and loved the attention…and returned a knowing smile showing her “Regis” white teeth which seemed to display a come hither sparkle often clasped in “Jolie” thick lips moistened by her pinkish tongue, waving them over…little did these men know, like Monroe…it took so little asking to seduce this beauty…and she had the appetite to satisfy them all.
“This is Mr. Harralson’s assistant,” she said into the receiver… “May I take a message, he is indisposed?”
The response was immediate, and annoyed… “Getting fucked, I bet?” “Not yet,” was her response.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky!” The man on the other end suggested.
“I’d sooner use my finger!” She said.
“Naughty, naughty…I think I’ll tell the boss?” The man sneered through the phone, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Right now, the boss is trying to suck the cock of some white waiter.”
“And your big tits are lonely?”
“What do you want Donald?”
“You!”
“I don’t do weird!”
“I want to fuck you within an inch of your life. I want to send you to the edge…take your breath…make you scream in pleasure as you did in Louisville.”
“What are you on Donald…Mescaline?”
“Just remember Louisville, Baby!”
“I was faking it…just to get your fat ass off me.”
“Mercy, mercy…what a liar, you were screaming for my short, fat Dick!”
“Short, is an over-statement…baby fat is more like you.”
“I got your baby fat between my stubby fat fingers, its big eye wanting to spit on you?”
“I just love it when you quote Shakespeare.”
“You mean snake shit, don’t you?”
“Ok, Donald, I’m going back to the boss and tell him you are sexually harassing me…and wasting his time…he’ll love that!”
“Sexually harassing you…what a laugh bimbo…you have fucked your way through both houses of congress…yes there are two, and you have been in the White House…your clitoris has been used so often it is the size of a baseball and just as hard as all the Dick you’ve jumped to get ahead…and you’ve sucked a bunch of those as well…sexual harassment; the judge, the prosecutor, the jury…all would laugh your ass out of court!”
“Remember Donald, I have movies.”
“Yeah, Marilyn…they are all of you, honey!”
“That is my point nitwit…what would a beautiful piece of ass, like mine, be doing with a piece of shit like you…without forceful coercion?”
“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, babe…I’ve got a sharp cold ice pick for you.”
“What did you say Donald…let me check my recording device to make sure it picked up your threat to do me harm.”
“Why can’t we be friends…we know so much about each other?”
“Yeh, practically brother and sister.”
“You mean kissing cousins…but that won’t work, cause I don’t go for incest.”
“I’m serious Donald, what do you want?”
“Just tell the boss…it’s done!”
“What?”
“He’ll know…just tell him to call about sending the dough.” The phone went dead.
III. The Wrong Turn
Midnight along Interstate 71 near Carrollton, Kentucky was always a busy place for speeding truckers, but aside from one other infamous event, it was a place which went unnoticed.
It was on this stretch of highway, just east of the Carrollton exit, where a cut in the mountain, making way for the interstate, leaves a very dark spot for about a mile before the road rises to the west, clearing the mountain range at some three hundred feet. Along this stretch, the mountain falls to the edge of the highway, often sending rock and small boulders into the road and the signs are real stating, “Watch for Falling Rock” On the north side of the interstate, alongside the road there is an ominous wooden cross, marking the spot…an artificial wreath, and a small hand written sign stating that this was the site of one of the worst church bus tragedies in the history of America.
The church bus was actually a converted school bus, placed in use by The Rugged Cross Baptist Church in Fort Knox, Kentucky. Yes it was the place where all the gold is kept on deposit and it is also the home of the General George Patton Museum. Yes, but on this fateful day it wasn’t a safe short trip to the Patton Museum but a trip to Kings Island, Ohio from whence the bus was returning late at night. The bus was filled with weary and sleeping youth that night, tired from a long day of thrill rides on mountain high monster rails.
Tonight, the monster was a drunk, headed east on the wrong side of the interstate, lights off, speeding through the foggy night. Before the teens would wake, the earie night sent chills up the spine of the drunken man as steel-on-steel crushed bones, broke necks, spilled blood and sent twenty-seven happy teens home to their maker. Never again to see the light of day as their souls left the burning inferno, a place reminiscent of hell, a place these teens would never know but the driver of the truck would have to wait out his time, double duty. He would be indicted for the murder of the teens and the church bus driver. A jury of his peers would convict him on all counts and a judge would sentence him to prison and he would later reject parole…his job at the lumber store in Carrollton would not be waiting when he was released after serving only ten plus years for the death of the twenty-seven teens and the driver of the bus.
(This from news reports and the file at www.wikipedia.org)
At 10:55 p.m. on May 14, 1988, Larry Wayne Mahoney, a drunk driver in a pickup truck traveling in the wrong direction on the interstate highway in a rural, unincorporated area of Carroll
