Free Timothy 02: Tim2 by Mark Tufo

Clarence’s dick down the damn thing and have some room left over. Then, if he hadn’t been threatening me just a moment ago, I would have laughed as I watched him fumble with a powder horn. It was a black powder revolver. I’d be able to eat his fellow passengers and start on him before he had a chance to take a shot.
    Well not really, but I had time enough. I walked over to that side of the car. The horn was shaking violently in his grip as he tried to get some down the barrel. One hit on the glass and I smashed through. He tried desperately to keep me from popping the lock, but a quick thrust of the bat into his teeth and he quit. Blood and bone bits leaked through his split lips, he was sobbing as I opened the door and pulled him to the pavement. The gun, if that’s what you want to call it, went clattering away.
    “That’s really the best you could do?” I shouted at him.
    I put my bat down and grabbed the old man, one hand deeply into his crotch the other at the nape of his neck. I strained to lift him over my head. He was hitching as I crushed his balls.
    “What are you crying about? You probably haven’t busted a nut since Reagan was in office,” I told him right before I threw him to the ground.
    I’m not sure what broke on him, anything short of an MRI and it would be difficult to tell. He had stopped moving and that was all that mattered for the moment. Charlie’s wife was in full on alarm mode.
    “I’ve always hated eating at loud establishments,” I told her as I yanked her into the back of the SUV by her hair. As soon as she was in range I ripped through her windpipe with my teeth. “Oh…delicious,” I said, gulping down a wet portion of her neck, my eyelids half closed as I savored the moment.
    Charlie was rooted to his seat as he watched me pick his wife clean. At some point the other man had decided he didn’t like this particular eatery and had departed to areas unknown.
    “Agnes, are you alright?” Charlie was finally able to ask.
    “Agnes is fantastic,” I told him. “She must be a bacon and butter eater, her clotted arteries add so much flavor and tenderness to the meat.”
    Charlie merely turned back around, he had his broken and useless hand cupped in his lap; he was sobbing quietly. I left him to his mourning as I moved on to passenger number one. The old bird wasn’t nearly as tasty as Agnes. I was definitely going to take a star off my review unless Charlie could save the day. I was in such bliss I didn’t even care how dirty my shirt got. I had decided in my many human dining experiences that the liver was something to be cherished and generally I made sure to eat that last.
    Charlie had enough manners to wait patiently as I finished up with passenger number one. I was pretty full, but Hugh was like a tapeworm with a tapeworm, he’d eat until the cows came home even if there weren’t cows. 
    My bowels started to seize up. “No, Hugh! I’ve got this, we’re civilized now!”
    I was in front of the car dropping my trousers when I looked up. Charlie’s face was aghast. Of all the things he’d witnessed me doing tonight, this apparently was the worst.
    “Do you mind?” I asked him.
    I didn’t need anyone watching as I sought sweet release. It wasn’t quite as tidy of a colon clean out as I’d hoped, but my pants weren’t too bad. When you lose fifty pounds in a sitting there’s bound to be blow back.
    “You ready?” I asked Charlie, as I stood back up and fastened my pants in place.
    He actually nodded. I thought that was downright decent of him. Charlie was going to be the icing on a great cake.
    “Why didn’t the zombies attack you?” Charlie asked, his eyes never leaving mine.
    “That’s a great question, do you have any theories on that?” I asked him back.
    “You can’t be a zombie…you think…you talk.”
    “Listen I’d love to stay and chat all night, but I’m figuring on a little pâté before I call it an evening.” 
    I smacked him gently