Savage Tales by Robert Crayola Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn't ignore it and get in bed. She told me just to kill it and I told her I didn't want to because I don't believe in killing. The truth is that I just don't like bugs.
    She smashed it with a plastic bottle of water and left a huge stain on the wall, and all I could think about as I did her was that stain and that dead creature that got flushed down the toilet with her water bottle and plugged up the toilet till the bug and bottle got coughed back up and I had to stare at them as I plunged it clean and flushed it again and I really didn't want to look at it. At that point I was so sick of it I only did her to get it out of my mind.
    Then she left and I went to the motel lobby to get another bottle of water but there was no one around and I could see the bottles just behind the counter but couldn't force myself to reach over and grab one so I played a game of Galaga on their oily machine and waited. I lost fast and still no one showed and I didn't want to keep feeding it quarters. I saw a half-eaten Danish on a plate and went for it since it seemed complimentary. It was abnormally warm and eating it only made me thirstier and finally I just reached around and grabbed a bottle of water. In doing so I could look further into the back office and saw a German Shepherd. It was standing on top of a man. The man was lying on the floor. The German Shepherd was licking the man's face. I went to take a look because the man was very still and I wanted to give him money for the water bottle. The dog looked at me and barked. Then it jumped at me with snarling teeth and I hit it across the face with the water bottle. The dog screamed like a girl and landed, then ran away, off into the horizon. I went to the man on the ground. His eyes were open but he was dead. There was blood all over his face.
    I left.
    At home I opened the mail and the wife had forgotten to pay the mortgage again. I got into bed with her and she wanted it but I told her not tonight, I had a headache.
    Next day at practice Johnny Diamond deliberately aimed the ball at my head and I charged the mound even though he's on my team. He just stood there though and I thought he would run. When he didn't run I acted like a part of me that was out of control suddenly regained control as I was running to the mound and I nodded like everything was fine but not really, and really everything was fine.
    The coach called me aside and we went into his office, which smells like urine. I always wondered why.
    "Gilbert, I thought it's time we had a talk."
    "Okay. I like to talk."
    "The truth is, Gilbert, you're not working out here."
    "You've got to give me a chance, coach."
    "I can't do that."
    "Please. This is my chance to show my country what I'm capable of."
    "Which country?"
    "My country."
    "Not the US?"
    "No. My country."
    "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let you go."
    "Please, coach. One more chance. I won't strike out again."
    "All right, maybe we can work out a deal. I don't really want to keep you on the team, but I have things that need to be done."
    "What things?"
    "My wife. I'm no longer sexually attracted to her."
    "That's unfortunate, coach."
    "For you. If you want to stay on the team I'm afraid you'll have to have sex with her."
    "Often?"
    "Every week."
    "I… see."
    "I don’t think you do. Here's my address. I won't be home on Friday evening, if you know what I mean, wink wink."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I mean that you need to go there and pleasure her while I am out."
    "I see."
    "Do you have a problem with that?"
    "How pretty is your wife on a scale of one to ten?"
    "I'm not going to answer that question."
    "And what about my wife?" I said. "What am I supposed to tell her while I'm busy pleasuring your wife?"
    "That's your dilemma, Gilbert."
    It wasn't really my dilemma because I never told my wife where I went and she would most likely be glad of the time alone.
    Friday night came and I went to the coach's house. I rang the doorbell and coach answered.
    "I'm running late,"