The Blob by David Bischoff Read Free Book Online
Authors: David Bischoff
to believe Scott’s story, looking down the aisle at Paul with concern and compassion.
The surly pharmacist shook his head. “That boy doesn’t need condoms. He needs a muzzle!”
“You really can’t blame him, sir,” said Scott. “It’s the school food. Far too much glandular-reactives, I say! I think we ought to get the FDA in to check it. Me, I always brown-bag it!” He got his change, snatched the sack, and tipped an imaginary hat. “Well, gotta run. Maybe I can discourage him from the error of his ways.”
The pastor looked as though he wanted to ask Scott if he was going to start coming back to church, but seemed too stunned to get the words out. The pharmacist just gave a disgusted grunt and started ringing up the pastor’s purchase.
“Well, get the stuff?” said Paul, putting the magazine back on the rack.
Scott slapped the sack. “You bet.”
“What were you talking about with the collar there?”
“I was gonna just settle for plain rubbers, but good ole Reverend Meeker, he highly recommended the lubricated sort.” He grinned. “He says he likes ’em bright red too.”
Shocked, Scott looked back over his shoulder. “Good grief, he must have gone to Jim Bakker University!”
7
I t was controlled chaos as usual at the Penny household, a sixties-style colonial nestled in a cluster of similarly modeled homes. Peg Penny, the mother, was trying to deal with the remains of the evening dinner, carting dishes into the kitchen and sticking them into her GE dishwasher. At the same time, she had to cope with the baby, gurgling away in her high chair, as well as two ten-year-olds who were playing with their desserts. Meanwhile George Penny, the father, was rattling around with his stereo, trying to get his favorite station tuned in to accompany his evening’s paper-reading. And Meg Penny, older teenage daughter and ace cheerleader, was running around on the upper level, rooting through drawers for the right clothes to wear that evening, making all kinds of noises when those tried-on clothes didn’t look right for her date with Paul Tyler that night.
When Peg came out of the kitchen to get the next load of dirty dishes, she found her ten-year-old son, Kevin, balancing his entire square serving of lime Jell-O on his spoon, while his pal Eddie Beckner looked on with glee.
Before she could do or say a thing, Kevin stuck his mouth onto the Jell-O and, with one mighty suck, inhaled the entire glob!
This action was greeted with a squeal of approval by Christine, the baby. Eddie Beckner, who had disdained his own green Jell-O, opting to eat only the whipped cream on top, applauded.
“Kevin, don’t eat with your face,” said Mrs. Penny.
“We’re in a hurry, Mom,” explained Kevin. “We’re going bowling with Anthony.”
All enthusiasm, Eddie piped up. “And then to the movies.”
That news stopped Mrs. Penny cold. She didn’t approve of most of the movies they were letting young kids in to see these days, and she was more than vocal about this matter. “What movie?” she demanded.
Kevin, well aware of his mother’s opinions on the subject, kicked his friend under the table to shut him up, but Eddie’s mouth was already cruising along at full speed. “Garden Tool Massacre. Your basic slice-’n’-dice.”
Mrs. Penny did a double take. “Your basic what?”
“This guy in a hockey mask chops up a few teenagers”—and then he noticed Mrs. Penny’s reaction. “But don’t worry, there’s no sex or anything bad.”
Peg Penny was still an attractive woman, but when she frowned—as now—the severity of her expression gave no hint of her beauty. “No! Absolutely not!”
“Mom, c’mon!” said Kevin.
“Kevin, I will not have you seeing that kind of trash, and that’s final. Do you understand?”
Kevin nodded sadly. There was no use trying to argue with her when she had that kind of face on. “Yes, ma’am.”
Peg Penny had just turned to deal with baby Christine, who had
The surly pharmacist shook his head. “That boy doesn’t need condoms. He needs a muzzle!”
“You really can’t blame him, sir,” said Scott. “It’s the school food. Far too much glandular-reactives, I say! I think we ought to get the FDA in to check it. Me, I always brown-bag it!” He got his change, snatched the sack, and tipped an imaginary hat. “Well, gotta run. Maybe I can discourage him from the error of his ways.”
The pastor looked as though he wanted to ask Scott if he was going to start coming back to church, but seemed too stunned to get the words out. The pharmacist just gave a disgusted grunt and started ringing up the pastor’s purchase.
“Well, get the stuff?” said Paul, putting the magazine back on the rack.
Scott slapped the sack. “You bet.”
“What were you talking about with the collar there?”
“I was gonna just settle for plain rubbers, but good ole Reverend Meeker, he highly recommended the lubricated sort.” He grinned. “He says he likes ’em bright red too.”
Shocked, Scott looked back over his shoulder. “Good grief, he must have gone to Jim Bakker University!”
7
I t was controlled chaos as usual at the Penny household, a sixties-style colonial nestled in a cluster of similarly modeled homes. Peg Penny, the mother, was trying to deal with the remains of the evening dinner, carting dishes into the kitchen and sticking them into her GE dishwasher. At the same time, she had to cope with the baby, gurgling away in her high chair, as well as two ten-year-olds who were playing with their desserts. Meanwhile George Penny, the father, was rattling around with his stereo, trying to get his favorite station tuned in to accompany his evening’s paper-reading. And Meg Penny, older teenage daughter and ace cheerleader, was running around on the upper level, rooting through drawers for the right clothes to wear that evening, making all kinds of noises when those tried-on clothes didn’t look right for her date with Paul Tyler that night.
When Peg came out of the kitchen to get the next load of dirty dishes, she found her ten-year-old son, Kevin, balancing his entire square serving of lime Jell-O on his spoon, while his pal Eddie Beckner looked on with glee.
Before she could do or say a thing, Kevin stuck his mouth onto the Jell-O and, with one mighty suck, inhaled the entire glob!
This action was greeted with a squeal of approval by Christine, the baby. Eddie Beckner, who had disdained his own green Jell-O, opting to eat only the whipped cream on top, applauded.
“Kevin, don’t eat with your face,” said Mrs. Penny.
“We’re in a hurry, Mom,” explained Kevin. “We’re going bowling with Anthony.”
All enthusiasm, Eddie piped up. “And then to the movies.”
That news stopped Mrs. Penny cold. She didn’t approve of most of the movies they were letting young kids in to see these days, and she was more than vocal about this matter. “What movie?” she demanded.
Kevin, well aware of his mother’s opinions on the subject, kicked his friend under the table to shut him up, but Eddie’s mouth was already cruising along at full speed. “Garden Tool Massacre. Your basic slice-’n’-dice.”
Mrs. Penny did a double take. “Your basic what?”
“This guy in a hockey mask chops up a few teenagers”—and then he noticed Mrs. Penny’s reaction. “But don’t worry, there’s no sex or anything bad.”
Peg Penny was still an attractive woman, but when she frowned—as now—the severity of her expression gave no hint of her beauty. “No! Absolutely not!”
“Mom, c’mon!” said Kevin.
“Kevin, I will not have you seeing that kind of trash, and that’s final. Do you understand?”
Kevin nodded sadly. There was no use trying to argue with her when she had that kind of face on. “Yes, ma’am.”
Peg Penny had just turned to deal with baby Christine, who had