Perfect Maniacs

Reads: 382  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
My first short story. Also, the first story of any kind I've actually finished! Not the usual style I think in, but it went down well and gave me a good jolly laugh in the process! Never mind the indent-goofs...formatting got screwy on me.

Submitted: January 06, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 06, 2017



Levi Gilbert

Perfect Maniacs


In the dusty back corner of the Maniacs’ Café, Blitzkrieg had a bone to pick with The Warden.  The son of a bitch had claimed this week’s antics were not worthy enough for the weekly madness awards.  He even wrote him up for it!

“I smashed seven glasses in less than two hours and even drove my car through the front door, which, may I remind you, has not been fixed yet.  Crazy Carl and his posse even felt so obliged to park their own car in the dining area of the tenth street dive.  Julio said himself that if I had not set the example, he would have raked in an estimated 6,000 dollars from customers.  It will cost him three times that amount in repairs!”

“How many tires of yours came through that wall last night?” demanded The Warden.

“My front passenger side one and part of the driver side too”, boasted Blitzkrieg. “My rear passenger side tire was popped by the curb and the rim spun a nice groove in the sidewalk that will trip skateboarders and the disabled for years to come!”

“Crazy Carl punched a disabled couple in the face last night.  In one strike at that!” exclaimed The Warden.

“That was a lucky shot.  Had they not been going in for a kiss he would have needed at least two punches for the same effect.”

“Nonetheless, they both needed stitches, which they won’t be getting ‘til Monday.  The barman had to apply superglue just to stop the bleeding.  My stance remains.  Maybe your own age has softened you, Blitz.  You may withdraw from the club any time you wish, although your bullshit keeps my quota up.”

“Damn you Warden! You know I haven’t paid a single one of your foolish citations!  In fact, the last one supplied me with enough paper to roll two and a half packs of cigarettes, which I made sure to smoke the entirety of in the hospital lobby!  Old Man Jenkins had to be resubmitted and Margaret Anne’s four week old infant inhaled enough second hand smoke to keep it up coughing all night, preventing her and jerry from getting any sleep before their big business meeting in the morning.  By the way, Jerry, how did that go?”

“We didn’t make the deal, my company will go bankrupt now,” retorted Jerry as he sent his beer glass sailing across the room, smashing the barman’s antique Victorian mirror.

“Fuck your company, Jerry,” remarked Bastard Billy.  “You should have gone broke years ago after I hacked your bank account.”

“Well I didn’t,” replied Jerry smugly.  “It’s good you are a bastard, If your father had known what a pussy you have become you wouldn’t still see straight.”

This created quite the excitement as Bastard Billy’s bastard father was a favorite topic of entertainment among the club.

“You obviously didn’t git much smarts from the som bitch, Billy, yer still with yer broad and she’s as ugly as yer hag ‘ol ma!” spat Toothless Tom as he eagerly pulled up a broken chair.  

“Fantastic point, Tom!” cried The Warden.  “If you go to bed tonight without slapping that crone, I will write you a ticket, Billy.”

“Hell, I will slap the bitch for him…” sneered Blitzkrieg, “…Again! Shit, your wife too, Warden…I don’t give a damn how good looking she is, the broad is as dumb as that doorknob I knocked Tom’s last tooth out with.”

“I do remember that, Blitz,” laughed The Warden.  “I haven’t laughed harder since!  I’ll omit your citation this time, in light of that great memory.”

“T’was a unfort’nate day for you, Blitzy,” considered Tom,”…you was mad ‘bout that lotter tick’t I stole frm Patterson’s place ‘at ended up bein’ a winner! Witch remind me anyhow, Ward, whens you gon’ let me in on my spoils?  It been forty days a’ready!”

“I told you, Tom, I needed it for the station upgrades.  With Blitz resisting arrest all the time and trashing the place, we needed repairs.”

“No money will be enough to keep up with me, goddamn it,” said Blitzkrieg. “Enough with the bullshit, Warden.  You put me on that fuckin ballot or I’ll blow your head off.”

As he pulled his revolver out and pointed it at the warden, three things happened: A certain car carrying a certain posse came smashing into the Maniacs Café, Toothless Tom shouted “Nooo Blitzy, the Ward’s got me money!” and lunged for the revolver, and Blitzkrieg’s finger squeezed the trigger.  If The Warden was shot, nobody would have known or even cared due to the fact that a fourth thing then happened:  Crazy Carl’s gas tank was hit by the bullet and exploded.  Madness ensued as maniacs, drunks, and weirdos alike all rushed for the exit, tripping and climbing over each other in a mad dash for life.  

Upon gaining the safety of the open air, the flames were able to be enjoyed by the town.  

“Everyone get out alright?!” shouted Bastard Billy, seemingly concerned as he buzzed about taking inventory of his fellow maniacs.

“I reck’n so,” voiced Tom.  “Ca’l’s car done a nice exit openin’ fer erry’one!”

“We better get back, boys,” the Barman warned as tears streamed down his face.  “The flames are getting awfully close to the bar and in that locked cabinet there’s a big….”

His warning was cut short and confirmed by an enormous explosion, dwarfing even Carl’s gas tank igniting.  “Oh my…well that’s probably a better use of that stuff anyhow…look at the beauty of that mushroom cloud!” shouted the Barman excitedly.  “If a man had ever risked drinking that and smoking at the same time…shit, this would have happened much earlier!”  

“I’d write you a hefty citation for that, man, but I’m sad to say all my legal stuff is burning up in there, so it looks like you’re off the hook this time.”

“Well thank you Warden, your next few drinks are on the house…whenever that may be…if there ever is a “house” again.”

“Don’ fret, Barm’n!” Encouraged Tom.  “Whensever I git that Lotter money I’ll lendja som’ta rebuild yer grea’ estabishmn’t”  

“Great!” Smiled the Barman.  “I’ll hire Jerry’s company…help get it back on its feet and all.”

“Jeez, I appreciate that, brothers,” nodded Jerry. “Two birds with one stack of cash!”

“To be honest, Tom,” admitted The Warden, “I’ve had your money in my bank account this whole time collecting interest.  I was going to take it all and move to Hawaii after a while…I apologize, I’ll get it to you.”

“No use, Warden,” bellowed Billy.  “I hacked your account this morning and have all the money.  Come on Tom, let’s go get it for ya.  By the way, Ward, you’re bleeding!”

“I guess your bullet did graze me, Blitz! I’ll let it go, bud.  I tazed you pretty good that one time undeservingly.”

“Sounds fair to me, Sir.  I’ll get that dressed up and then take you to the ER…you’ll be just fine,” Blitzkrieg stated warmly, as he slipped a packet of salt out of his pocket.


© Copyright 2019 Sir Valence. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: