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Sure enough, the coyote took a bite of the morsel. He seemed to enjoy it, despite his protests to the contrary. The sheep looked as skeptical as I felt. He-Man came in a bit later sporting a sort of Princess Leia meets Blondie Bumstead coiffure. The newscaster look hadn’t worked for him apparently, but I failed to see why he’d think this was an improvement either. He hadn’t been drinking yet, as far as I could tell, but I didn’t want a repeat of the previous week. So I ignored him, went back to smashing Bon Jovi tapes (I still had a few crates to go) and hoped he would go away. I had been smashing the tapes, and watching the wide-screen television (there was some story on the news about a missing rabbit) for quite some time and all seemed well, but then a really sick thing happened. Out of the PA system came a rancid noise. It was I Saw Him Standing There, rendered horrible by teen super-sensation Tiffany! Several things started to happen at once. The penguins spilled their Matilda. His fingers tightened in her hair, warning her, as he always did, what would happen if she bit him. She had done it once, never again. Closing her eyes, her mind drifted off to a sunny place where the dark never came. The grass was a rich, verdant green, full of flowers and dotted with trees. She had a small house there, one she had built and decorated through her countless hours in the dark. Her own place, where she never had to be on her guard, never had to open her mouth to a gagging penis. He would be angry if he knew of her escape from him, but he didn’t pay much attention to her when he was in her mouth as long as she continued to suck in the rhythm he preferred. Her practiced lips didn’t need her concentration anymore, they did what was needed automatically. When he had enough of her mouth, he jerked her hair, yanking her off of him. His penis, jutting and angry, pointed at her. She waited, to see what his preference was. He pushed her face first onto the mattress, grunting in.
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