Lornographic Material

(Author's Note: In my upcoming short story collection, Others & Oddities, I've amassed quite a few tales that simply do not fit anywhere else. These are the rebels, the black sheep, the purely absurd. Below, you will find one such story. "Now I've Seen Everything" is a whimsical, if vulgar piece that I wrote for a short story contest with a St. Patrick's Day theme. Needless to say, the judges didn't approve of my signature sense of humor, and the story was disqualified. So here it is, uncut and just as filthy as it wants to be, a little sneak peak at what you can expect from Others & Oddities.)

Now I've Seen Everything

by Edward Lorn

Roland Call—or Role Call, as he was known around town—was sitting in one of my holding cells and scratching his hairy beer gut. His finger had come across something inside the belly button, and I was hypnotized as I watched the tug-of-war that ensued. Role was dressed in one of those Sexy Girl Leprechaun costumes they sell at Dirty Dave's, 'round back of town, just outside the city limits. Role was known for being a drunken pervert. I’d picked him up on just as many B&Es as I had Indecent Exposures. Suffice it to say, if Role Call wasn’t stealing the family jewels, he was showing them off.

Perched on his heavy head was a tiny green ballers cap with a plastic, bedazzled four leaf clover hanging off the brim. The vest, which had been made to support a woman of the C-cup variety, was tightly tied in a bow above his massive stomach. His man boobs jutted from the bottom of the vest. The lime green short-shorts disappeared under his belly when he sat down. Every once in a while Role Call would stand up and tug the green fabric from his crack. "Sexy" ain’t the right word for this man.

I will say, though, it was entertaining as shit watching this failure of a human being.

"Ya 'spose he got the matchin' boots, Cate?" John Jon asked from the desk across from me.

"I'd bet my tits on it." I scratched my head as I looked him over. "You say he was robbing City Gold ‘N Pawn? Dressed like that?"

"Yeppers, just like that, too. Ain't like we dressed ‘im up just for his stay in county." John Jon laughed and lit a Pall Mall. "They'll be over by Tuesday to pick ‘im up. Ain't nothing wrong with keeping ‘im here for the weekend plus a day, is there?"

I shook my head. "Nah, nothing wrong with it."

Role Call met my eye's and smiled. His teeth were as green as spring grass, no doubt the aftermath of beer with seasonal food coloring added in. He continued to dig for buried treasure in that black void he called a bellybutton.

I told the fat man in the idiot suit, "You ain't Irish,Role, not even by half. You're more Hatfield than McCoy, if I had to guess."

John Jon snorted, "Yup, Mick-Coy."

I continued on, undeterred by the bucket of stupid that is John Jon Henderson. "So what the hell were you thinking robbing a gall-darned pawn shop dressed like one them Lepry-cans?"

Role chuckled and his gut did the wave. "I'd been drinking and cuttin' a fool. I decided to go get back what I left there at the pawn shop. Problem was, they was closed."  

John handed me a picture. "Owner, Phil What’s-his-face, said he's missing a bucket full of rare gold coins. Davie said he didn't find a thing on Role when he caught him coming out the back of the shop. Phil says here's the proof, though. They were pawned by Role, himself, but he never came to pick ‘em up. His grace period run up, and Phil was gonna put ‘em up for auction on that website of his. That, or melt 'em down to make wedding bands and whatnot."

I picked up the photo and looked it over. They were pretty; shiny little gold medallions piled high in a witch's-cauldron-type of thingy. "Where'd you snag these, Role?"

"None yo business. They ain't really mine, though, that's why I gotta get ‘em back. Guess I fucked that up, huh?" He barked forced laughter.

"You went and sold someone else's shit, Role? You do know I can charge you with that, too, don't you?"

Role Call shrugged. "What's one more charge ‘tween friends."

"Drunken fool." I shook my head at his stupidity.

Through the entrance of my Sheriff's office came the strangest shit I ever did see. The guy was just under four-foot nothing and dressed to the nines; green dinner jacket buttoned over a white dress shirt and a green bow tie around his neck; black slacks and black shoes that were shined to a mirror finish and had cute little buckles on the top. His white fedora was cocked to the side atop curly, reddish brown hair. The little person's eyes were the greenest green I had ever seen, and they sparkled when they met mine. He looked like an Irish Member Of The Board, if you know what I mean.

"You the law here, Lassie?" he asked. His tone was cheery enough. Even had a bit of a pleasant lilt to it.

"I'm the Sheriff, if that's what ya mean." I shook his tiny hand.

"Good. I've come to claim what is rightfully mine, that what’s in that cell over there." He pointed to Role Call and hitched his chin in the fat man’s direction.

"Fuck off, O' Charlie. I ain't got yer gold!" Role yelled at the little man, and then flipped him off there at the end.

"We both know ya do, Laddy. Now give'm here or I’ll be taking what's mine. "

"Get bent, you fuckin' midget."

"We'll be doing this the hard way, then."

I started to ask what was going on, but never got the chance to finish. What happened next… well, let's just say we've never been able to explain it to anyone without them looking at us like we just checked ourselves out of the crazy house.

This O' Charlie character snapped his fingers once. That was it; just once. Inside the cell, Role Call doubled over and growled like a bear during mating season as his stomach gurgled, fit to split. You could see something moving in there, like a baby kicking.

Role Call jerked backwards before being slung back down, as if he were being forced to touch his toes in prison. His green shorts ripped right down the middle, and for a moment, I was laughing. I wouldn’t stay laughing, though.

The fat man's ass exploded. His bloody insides splattered all over the cell's floor.

And so did about a hundred gold coins.

"Ah, there we have it!" O' Charlie looked at me. My mouth hung open in shock. I was, suffice it to say, speechless.

Role groaned as one final coin fell out of his belly button to roll through the bars towards us.

"Now then," O’ Charlie said as he snatched up the coin, "I'll be collecting what's mine."