Congratulations on Leaving the Butcher Shop!

You’ll know you shouldn’t have fucked his wife, but it’ll be far, far too late by then. Four weeks and three nights too late, plus that one time in the Olive Garden bathroom a while back to be precise. But your momma raised you partly right and one of the lessons she made sure you had etched into your skull was that you don’t wrong a man and not apologize.

Sure, your mom left your dad for another man when you were seven and never spoke another word to you again and as far as you know she’s dead with some freak’s semen in her belly but that doesn’t really relate to the importance of the lessons she taught you, including “don’t touch the third rail.”

Which is why you’ll show up at Glenn’s butcher shop on St. Patrick Street on Saturday. You’ll walk in, wait patiently in line and consider the various meat choices available. You’ll giggle, wondering why Glenn likes meat so much, then feel bad about giggling at a man you’ve wronged so profoundly. When you get to the counter he won’t recognize you at first. He’ll open his mouth like you’re just another customer, but before he issues his greeting the gears will click and he’ll stammer in surprise.

“H-hey Franklin.” You’ll nod in response.

“Glenn, I need to tell you something.” He’ll look at you, then at the line behind you.

“Can it wait, buddy?” You’ll shake your head, a gesture he’ll seem to miss. His eyes will drift to the next customer in line, an elderly black woman with a list written on the back of a Safeway receipt in hand.

“I’ve been fucking Christy.”

His eyes will go wide.

“You fucking joking?”

You’ll shake your head.

“Sorry. Not about sleeping with her, that was awesome. About betraying your trust. For like a month.”

He’ll be fuming after that, chewing the inside of his lip and breathing heavy with his hands on the counter. “What?” he’ll say, violence evident in his voice.

“Don’t worry. We’re done. Unless she follows through on leaving you. She’s a great girl, I just don’t want to betray you anymore through her.”

After that last one he’ll let loose a wordless scream and throw a knife at you. You’ll duck with Bush-like reflexes and it will catch the elderly black woman waiting behind you in the chest, mortally wounding her. You’ll scramble through the line while people kick and scratch at you and Glenn follows you out of the store brandishing a cleaver at his side.

Once you get out you’ll start running, hoping that Glenn’s girth will keep him rooted to his business, shaking his cleaver in the air at you as you fade away. As the sounds of his shouts fade behind you you won’t be able to shake the feeling that this whole situation could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t taken that “speak whatever the fuck pops into your head” class from Ted Nugent.

Congratulations on Leaving the Butcher Shop!

Congratulations Biker Gang!

Monday’s Sexy Results prediction goes out to Mad Dog, One Eye, Gomez and Fauntelroy of San Quentin, California. Today you are going to become the most feared biker gang in all of the Bay area.

You’ve been well feared for some time now, but it’s not the kind of fear you’d like. It’s less the abject horror of people who truly know what you’re capable of and more the “avoiding eye contact because you believe this person to be mentally unstable” kind.

While this is deserved you’ve always wanted to be feared for your potential for violence. Most biker gangs can cause more than discomfort in their terrorize-ees, after all, and you’d rather not be laughed out of another biker gang convention, which is actually just a small subsection of the gay pride parade in your area.

This is why the group of you will take it upon yourselves to eradicate the group you perceive as the number two biker gang in the San Quentin zip/post: your local Shriners chapter.

You’ll burst into their lodge at 10:30 AM to catch two geriatric men drinking. You’ll proceed to restrain them both then rape them repeatedly before caving in their skulls with a pipe you found in the basement.

Then you’ll steal a keg and some of their tiny hats and flee the premises, secure in the knowledge that security camera footage and word of mouth will knowledge of what you just did around in due time.

The former is true; the latter not so much. On Wednesday the four of you will be arrested on charges of first degree murder, but there will not be a single material witness to the crime. Instead the case will rely entirely on security camera footage.

Interviews with locals will reveal that they believed you were a group of mentally unstable homeless homosexuals (also true!), and that they were not aware that you even owned motorcycles. This will lead to a strange trial, and a new set of precedents thanks to your heinously violent crime and the surprisingly thorough security system the Shriners recently had installed.

So congratulations Biker Gang! Enjoy the “notoriety” while it lasts, and remember: even if you don’t become famous as a group of violent sociopaths you’ll always have your historical footnote as a court precedent!