Free Doom Fox by Iceberg Slim Page B

shoves the bills into the pot with a fiendish grin on his foxy face. The gallery of victors smirk and stare at Baptiste as he sits trancelike looking at the deck in his trembling hand.
    'Bap, I'll give you a grand on your jewelry upstairs or two grand on your house if you think you've got the better hand and want to raise me' Clarence taunts. Then, 'C'mon Bap, deal out the hand and pee your pants' as Baptiste slowly shakes his head.
    Baptiste's hand shakes as he flips the queen of hearts to Clarence. He turns the heart tenspot intended for Clarence, hurls the deck to the tabletop and rises on trembly legs.
    He manages a tortured smile, says hoarsely, 'Well gentlemen, looks like that tramp Lady Luck has crossed me.'
    His guests rise. Clarence says, 'Here's a double saw Bap, for your lonesome pocket.'
    Baptiste scowls, 'Thanks, but I don't need it. I've got walk around dough upstairs ... I'll get in touch with Draw Back to set up another session in a couple of days.'
    He heads the quartet to the front door, opens it. He shakes their hands as they file out. He shuts the door, goes to a front window. Despair slumps his shoulders as he watches them drive away. Don't panic! Don't panic! he shouts to himself as he collapses onto the sofa.
    He stares blankly into space, immobile, slumped like a graven image of defeat until Susie the terrier scratches and whines at the front door. He heaves a sigh, gets to his feet with laborious effort. He opens the front door, follows as Susie goes to her pottie spot in bushes at the edge of the sidewalk.
    He glances at his watch and sees it is half past midnight, sees the lights of the corner drugstore extinguish. He idly watches elderly Havelik, the store owner, and his burly son exit and lock the front door in a wash of street lamp. He watches them go to their car with the usual brown paper sack containing store receipts clutched in the son's hand.
    Excitement reels Baptiste as he remembers that Erica, in her shop prattle, mentioned that on the last day of the month, when customers pay up their credit accounts, the Haveliks carry nine, ten thousand dollars with them when they close. Baptiste tells himself the heist of that paper bag is his only out. He has to save the house.
    His head vibrates as he mulls heist angles, disguises and choreography. He and Susie go down the walk into the house.
     

5
    Two weeks later at noon, Delphine, Young Joe's goddess, is awakened by the belly claw of her embryo monkey. Her great grey eyes anxiously sweep the drawn drape purple murk for the presence of the gibbering sex fiend demons who have tortured her in her sleep. Her apricot mane is a tousled frame of flame about her wickedly pretty face as she slides her naked arsenal of golden curves to her pre-prepared speedball mix of 'C' and 'H' in a syringe on the nightstand.
    She pillow props herself, bends her knees, opens her thighs wide. She turns on and places the nightstand lamp at an angle on the bed to illuminate her vulva. She props a hand mirror against the bed covers to reflect her sex nest. With the syringe spike at ready, she locates a vivid blue vein, stabs in the needle and shoots in the dope. She extracts the spike, moans rapturously as she relaxes with hooded eyes in heroin's poisonous womb bliss.
    She enjoys her favorite fantasy: She sees Big Louise, her mother, attacked by a nude mob of giggling johns. One of the mob loops his belt around Louise's throat to cut off her piteous screaming. Louise's naked whale-like blubber arches, quivers and leaps when the mob wrench her legs agape and gang-rape her with gigantic organs swathed in barbed wire studded condoms. Delphine sees herself mercifully smother Louise with a giant pillow.
    Fantasy steeped, Delphine finally picks up the phone receiver on the fifth jangle to Young Joe's basso profundo voice. 'Baby Lady, you all right?' he asks.
    'Fine and thinking of you, heartbreaker' she coos.
    'You gonna pick me up at three?' he says.
    'That's right, handsome