In any case, one of the ways the organization has managed to generate income and services is through leasing out office and storage space at low cost to sympathetic and beneficial companies, like a certain contracting/construction company who then performs upgrades and improvements to our physical plant at no cost. So while we staff continue to struggle through cuts in health benefits and overtime pay, we continue to see nice new gardens, white fences and newly paved roads sprout up all around the campus.
The crowning jewel is the restoration of a century old arboretum and courtyard, complete with fountain, fresh grass and cobblestones. Since we are a religiously affiliated organization with an adjoining chapel (freshly painted), many marrying couples hold a reception, for a fee, in the rejuvenated courtyard.
One such event happened to be taking place on a lovely spring morning when Michael (who you remember saw an image of Blue Boy in the wall) and Francis, another marginally developmentally delayed boy who incidentally looks just like Jughead from the Archie comic books, slipped out of the house, unnoticed.
Michael and Francis have had a history of secret, sexual escapades. Once, Francis was caught sitting on Michael's lap, pants off, in Michael's laundry basket. They said they were playing "Santa Claus." Another time, Francis attempted to get Michael in trouble by revealing what a lying cheat Michael really is. He told me, "I hate Michael. He's such a liar. He said he'd give me four batteries for my radio if I booty-bumped him. But when I did, he only gave me two, the bitch."
A hillside overlooks the courtyard where the wedding party was taking place. Michael and Francis decided to use this as a staging area to launch their attack. At first it started as a raid to steal food and provisions for a longer and, no doubt, sexually motivated escape to calmer environs, but when the caterers caught them in the back of their van and demanded that they stop eating the pate and baguettes they had found, it became a more serious battle involving larger armies.
The boys retreated to the hillside to recoup the honor they had lost in being caught by a caterer. Their identities discovered, they began to throw rocks and sticks at the lovely couple, as well as a hundred or so stunned guests. Francis began a war-cry of "Fuck all you neegers! Heeee!" When he said this he stuck his jaw out and closed his eyes in a retard-style proclamation of self-satisfaction. Michael ad-libbed his own running commentary, "That bitch is gonna get fucked tonight just like my mama!" all the while jabbing his pointer-finger in his eye to slow the uncontrollable twitch that causes it to roll around in its socket.
They tore branches off the trees and held them out in front of their waists like giant, leafy penises, all the while screaming, "Wedding balls are ringing! Take it all, you ho! Look, I got a woody, get it?" Some of the braver male guests threw off their tuxedo jackets and attempted to scramble up the hill to intervene but quickly backed off when they were hit with dirt clods and spit.
The warriors continued their assault until two deputy sheriffs arrived. The officers moved through the wedding party to the edge of the hill. Emboldened by the sight of the law, the boys defied all demands that they surrender and put down their weapons. The officers climbed the hill and approached, commanding that the boys put their hands on their heads. Michael picked up a large branch and cracked the cop over the arm.
From the bottom of the hill, the wedding party, agency administrators and a half a dozen counselors watched the gentle orange mist of pepper spray rise above Michael's head after it slammed into his face. The cop held the screaming and gagging Michael with his billie-club over his neck.
Francis saw this, interlocked his fingers on top of his head and calmly turned to the other officer, "You mean like this?"
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