a super-sized King Kong unit. But, sadly, his big monkey’s spunky was a little funky.”
Sheleeta reached into her purse and pulled out a tin of Altoids. She was about to pop one into her mouth when her attention was drawn to a beautiful Japanese woman approaching. Sheleeta became rigid with emotion. The woman who stopped Sheleeta in her tracks was the former Mr. Haiku Ono, a recently transgendered hooker known as Spicy Tuna.
Spicy saw Sheleeta and quickly crossed the street to get away.
“You better step off before I throw some wasabi whoop-ass on you!” Sheleeta shouted as Spicy retreated. Seconds later, Sheleeta was trembling, almost in tears.
Lady went to Sheleeta and tried to give comfort. “Now, girl, don’t be reliving your personal tragedy out here on the street. Walk on. Be strong.”
“Tell that to my heart! My wounds haven’t healed! I’m still in pain,” Sheleeta blurted out. “That bitch poisoned my cat! Then she took the carcass and threw it on my porch. Oh, the ugliness! The carnage! I can still hear the screams.”
“You were the one screaming, Sheleeta,” Lady reminded her. “The cat had been dead for hours.”
“I’m having a flashback.”
Now Sheleeta was brimming with tears.
“You’re right, honey. Sure you’re right. That girl served you up a big steaming bowl of WRONG. But Spicy was off her lithium at the time. You know she is crazy as hell when she is off that shit,” Lady tried to reason.
Sheleeta nodded in understanding and tried bravely to suck up her tears of grief.
“But Peesonthechaise was a wonderful cat, wasn’t he?” Her words were choked and halting. Her lower lip began to quiver. Soon, Sheleeta lost the battle and collapsed into a sobbing, wailing wreck. Fortunately, there was enough Kleenex in her purse for crisis tear-dabbing and nose-blowing.
Lady Dijonnaise wrapped her massive arms around the massive Sheleeta Buffet in a big bear hug. They each felt the other’s beard stubble.
“I mourn that cat every day, too, Sheleeta.”
Lady hated herself for lying to her brother/sister. There had been times when Lady wanted to stuff Peesonthechaise down the garbage disposal, but she couldn’t figure out a way to make the gruesome death look accidental. She was glad the little bastard was dead, and she was secretly grateful to Spicy Tuna for taking him out.
Lady looked up and down the street for something to take Sheleeta’s mind off her dead cat. If Sheleeta didn’t stop crying soon, she’d start to hiccup uncontrollably. When that happened, she looked like a big-ass widemouthed frog on steroids.
Lady had to stop the crying now. Her eyes scanned Halsey Street. Then, miraculously, she saw what she was looking for and smiled broadly.
“Who wants to split a bucket of Original Recipe?” she cooed.
“Oh, the Colonel! I’d love some. I’m already having a delish-o-gasm!”
Sheleeta broke free of Lady’s arms and bounded across the street toward the KFC, her Manolo Blahniks straining under the load. She looked like a small army tank racing toward a target.
Lady and Sheleeta ordered, then took their food to a table with a window view of Halsey Street. It was dark now, and there was an electricity sparking the night that was both edgy and entertaining, like an open-air carnival.
Lady was dividing up the food and napkins when, again, Sheleeta stopped cold.
“Not Spicy Tuna again. Let it go, Sheleeta.” Lady had had enough of the Peesonthechaise lament for tonight, and she was hungry.
“No! No! Look who’s back.” Sheleeta was excitedly pointing across the street.
Lady looked out the big window and saw a beautiful black woman with long legs, clearly defined calves, and firm thighs coming up the street. She had the face of an angel and flawless dark skin, and although she was obviously mature, she still had the ripe body of a teenager—eager, full, and lush. Her breasts stretched the top she was wearing to its fiber limit. She was the stuff wet fantasies were made of. The sexual energy she exuded spilled over beyond gender boundaries. She was clearly distinguishable, even through the manic blur of people now overtaking Halsey Street.
Lady turned back to Sheleeta. “You’re right. It is her. It’s Paradise.”
Paradise had set herself apart long ago from the other prostitutes on Halsey Street. It wasn’t about the money for her. She really enjoyed the sex. She hadn’t run to the streets because her momma didn’t understand her or because her daddy didn’t love her enough.
She wanted the opportunity to explore her sexuality. She loved the feel of sex, the soreness of it, the sweet delightful invasion of the body that lasts for days. Paradise brought her love of sex to all her clientele. She had politicians, doctors, lawyers, and a few celebrities begging for her.
Sheleeta watched Paradise in awe.
“I heard that girl is a one-woman whore extravaganza,” she said respectfully.
“Oh yes, honey. Paradise is an artiste in the art of whore. People pay some crazy cash to get with her,” Lady confirmed. Then she looked around the KFC to make sure no one was listening. She leaned in confidentially close to Sheleeta and asked in a hushed reverential tone, “Did you ever hear the story about the Smilin’ Man?”
“The Smilin’ Man? No!”
“Well, the word is that Paradise’s honey pot tastes so good, that first this john went down on her and it was so sweet he didn’t want to go any further. He thought that after such good-tasting pussy, intercourse would be a letdown. So Paradise dared him to fuck her but warned him it would be more than he could stand. So now, of course, the john HAD to do her, so he stuck his dick in her, and her squeeze box was so tight, it felt like a Vulcan death grip. When it was over, the john died on top of her. Very happy. Even the undertaker couldn’t get the blissful smile off that man’s face.”
“Shut up!”
“I am serious, honey. That poor undertaker lost his business because of it.”
“No!”
“Hell, yes! The Smilin’ Man’s wife sued his ass for pain and suffering and won; then she closed that motherfucker down.”
“What!”
“The funeral was real embarrassing for her. She was humiliated. Just imagine. Their family and friends coming to pay their respects at the funeral parlor. People they both knew and socialized with. And there was her husband, lying all up in the coffin, smiling in death, looking happier than he had ever been in his whole entire life.”
“No shit!” Sheleeta said in wonder.
“I shit you not, little sisterman!”
Lady and Sheleeta watched Paradise as she approached the corner. Then she turned and began talking with someone who was standing in shadows. Lady and Sheleeta tried to see who it was but couldn’t.
“Who’s that she’s talking to? Is it that cop that used
