Free Collected Kill: Volume 1 by Patrick Kill

TEQUILA SON

    James shuffled his way through the crowd and situated himself at the bar.  Smoke lingered like a faint wave of fog rolling past the pinball machines, over the television where WWF wrestling was displayed.  He looked around the crowd, searching for a familiar face, but, instead, met eyes with a woman with long blonde-hair, in her early twenties, who smiled back.  He had never seen her at the bar before and figured she was an out-of-towner or a first time visitor from the local college.
    “What do you got, Mick?  Anything new?” he asked the bartender.
    Mick nodded.  “Got a new import from Mexico.  You up for it?”
    “You know me,” James said, “I’m the ultimate taste-tester!”
    Mick uncapped a clear longneck bottle and slid it across the bar on a napkin.
    James read the label: TEQUILA SON it stated in bold followed by the word “Light” outlined in white.
    “Tequila in a beer bottle, huh?”
    “Weird, eh?”
    James read the ingredients, then swished around the bottle.  Something pale in the bottle floated in the liquid along with debris.
    “Wow, it’s even got a big fucking worm in it.”
    “Look closer,” Mick said.
    James squinted, holding the bottle up to the dim lights.  He swished the bottle around again and the pale grub-thing spun, drifted to the edge of the bottle, then sunk.  As it turned again, James figured it was about an inch or two long, but then he saw the arms and legs.
    “What the f—”
    He tilted the bottle at a different angle and the thing floated up to the glass.  He could see it was a tiny, pale man.  It even had features such as a beard and indentations in its pale body replicating a robe.
    “Jesus!”
    “You got it,” Mick said, laughing.  “It’s supposed to be Jesus all right!”
    “Why?”
    “Who knows.  These imports always have some kind of gimmick to them.  Anything to get people to drink their product.”
    Confused, James kept shaking the bottle, half-afraid to taste it.
    “Maybe they took it from the old saying that you can’t find Jesus at the bottom of a bottle.  Hell, I don’t know.  Maybe they were trying to get religious people to drink it and collect the figurine.”
    “Has anyone else tried it?”
    “You’re the first.  Go for it!”
    James tipped the bottle and took a big gulp.  The alcohol washed over his tongue, to the back of his throat.  He swished what remained around in his mouth like a real connoisseur of alcohol.  His taste buds exploded with remarkable flavor.  The liquor was tangy, but not bitter and had no aftertaste whatsoever.  He quickly took another swig and savored the exotic flavor.
    “Damn, this is fucking divine!”
    “Well, maybe you just uncovered the mystery then.  That must be why the little wormy Jesus is in there!”
    James smiled and chugged the rest until the Jesus figure stuck to the inside of the neck.  He plucked it out with his finger and inspected it.  It felt like a worm or a soggy noodle, but looked exactly like the Lord and Savior.
    “You’re not going to keep that, are you?”
    “Hell no, that’s where all the alcohol settles,” he remarked, then popped the figure in his mouth and swallowed.
    He felt lightheaded immediately.  He felt the smile spreading across his face.  His body felt calm and heavy as he looked around the room and suddenly caught a glimpse of the blonde approaching him.
    “Hello,” she said, “My name’s Vicki.”
    “James,” he said, trying to anchor down his smile before he looked like a jackass.  “Have a seat.”
    Vicki looked at the seat and smiled, then bent close to his ear and whispered, “I thought more on the lines of going back to my place and fucking like mad.”
    James continued to stare down the low V-cut of her yellow blouse.  Her well-tanned tits almost popped right out.
    But for some reason, he didn’t feel aroused.  And before he could think about a clever reply, he blurted out, “No.  I’m sorry, but that would be