“MAD MEN” meets the Greeting Card Industry
Excerpts:
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Exerpted from Chapter Eight Pierre's Log Cabin Inn
Mary Beth climbed down from Bucky’s truck and glanced apprehensively toward the roadhouse. Pierre’s Log Cabin Inn was set far enough back to allow two rows of parking between its dark brown log facade and Missouri Route 110. A big neon sign cast a cold magenta glow over the rows of pickups and 4x4’s that filled the gravel parking lot. Each of the two tiny windows that faced the highway held a neon Budweiser sign, and a bare red light bulb illuminated a Christmas wreath on the front door. Bucky came around the truck and slapped Mary Beth on the rump of her jeans, “What are you waiting for, Bet, let’s get on in there and party.” She gave him a pained smile but he was already several strides away heading towards the muffled noise that came from within. He bounded up the two steps, pulled open the door and was met by a blast of music. Once inside he let the door close behind him. When Mary Beth reached the door, she paused and took in a deep breath of cold air, Christmas Eve at Pierre’s didn’t seem right. Bracing herself, she pulled open the door and went inside. The place was jammed, noisy with laughing and yelling, and on the juke box a country band was playing a bluegrass version of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.” “Over here, sweet thing!” Mary Beth saw Badger at the end of the bar. He was easy to spot, a huge man, a head taller than anyone else in the bar. His hair and beard were black and his faded blue-plaid shirt stretched across a world-class beer gut. He raised a thick arm in the air and beckoned to her. She saw that Bucky was already over there, and as she pushed her way through the boisterous crowd toward them, she felt someone give her a squeeze on her bottom. Turning, she saw a thin blond haired boy carrying a beer and trailing his free hand behind him as he moved away from her. The boy turned to peek back and seeing her looking, gave her a wink. She shot him a dirty look, then made it the rest of the way to Bucky and Badger. But Bucky had seen that look and said, “What was that about, Bet? That asshole try anything?” Mary Beth said, “No, no, he didn’t do anything. He said something but he was talking to somebody else.” Bucky said, “If that little shit said anything to you, I’ll kick his ass.” She put a hand on his arm, “No, Buck, he didn’t say anything, I swear.” Bucky turned back to Badger and pointed across the room, Mary Beth interrupted, “Come on, Bucky, I told you he didn’t say anything.” Badger put a booted foot on the foot rail below the bar and raised his massive body even higher over the heads of the others. He peered through the smoke towards the far corner of the room. “I don’t see any…wait…oh, hell, Bucky, that’s Jimmy Moser. That little shit couldn’t piss on his foot with a funnel. You seen him here before, he drives that big fuckin’ white Blazer with chrome shit all over it.” Bucky stared menacingly across the room. Mary Beth said, “For God’s sake, Bucky, he didn’t do anything. Forget about him.” Badger took a long swig of his beer and looked down at Bucky, “Wanna go over and shove his head up his ass?” His eyes twinkled, “Shit, let’s do it.” Bucky turned his head in the direction of Jimmy Moser and frowned, “Naw…fuck him.”
It was a little after two in the morning when Bucky and Mary Beth came out through the door and into the crowded parking lot. Bucky was holding on to Mary Beth’s belt and he was weaving a little as he walked. “Shit, Bet, you’re ‘bout as much fun as a priest in a whore house.” Mary Beth said wearily, “My God, Buck, it’s Christmas Eve. Besides I told you I’d take the truck and Badger could bring you home whenever you want to.” “Hell, this is Christmas; and I believe you got a Christmas present for me down there between your legs and I just hope I can wait till we get home to open it up and try it on.” As she stepped up onto the running board of the truck he gave her a whack on the seat of her pants. “Oww, Bucky, that hurt!” He ignored her and went around to the other side of the truck and climbed inside. He started the engine, threw it in gear, and backed out between the rows of trucks. Moving forward now, he was almost over to the highway when he abruptly slammed on the brakes nearly throwing Mary Beth into the dashboard. “What are you doing?” Bucky grinned and opened the door, “Just got a little something I need to do.” He hopped out and went around and reached over the fender and opened the big tool box that sat in the truck bed, then walked over to a big white Blazer with a rack of chrome hunting lights across the top. As Mary Beth watched, Bucky took his hammer and smashed one of the Blazer’s headlights. “Buck!” She rolled down the window, “What are you doing?” He smashed the other headlight, and then the four lights up on top. “Bucky, for God’s sake, stop!” He ignored her, and pulling a hunting knife out of its sheath, he jabbed it into the left rear tire. Ignoring her protests, he methodically slashed the other three tires. A sharp hissing sound filled the night air as the Blazer slowly settled. He hurried back to the truck, tossed the hammer and the knife into the back and climbed up into the truck. Looking back at the mutilated blazer, he smiled, “Merry Christmas, asshole.” “My God, Bucky, why did you do that?” He slammed the door and the truck shot forward again and out onto the dark highway. “Why shit, Bet, I did it for you. Nobody touches my wife.”
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