Laughlin By Night
It was hot as piss in Laughlin Nevada that night. The ugly face of Don Laughlin stared at her from the sign on the side of the road. Word in Hemet California was Hannah had come through there, hung with some buddies of Judas' and then passed on through. So fate brought Judas to Laughlin Nevada, the arm pit of the universe. Jet setters and derilicts who couldn't cut it in Las Vegas ended up here. It was the blue haired old lady Mecca, the Holy Land for tired old women on a pension.
The Colorado river smelled fresh and softly aquatic and cool despite the near 130 degree heat bouncing off the pavement. Judas pulled her bike up to the vallet entrance of the Flamingo Hilton Hotel and Casino. She tossed the keys to her Harley Soft-tail at him with a flippant smile and pushed the revolving doors around. As she went through the revolving door she was tempted to keep going around around till she got dizzy. A Smile crept and tugged at the corners of her mouth for the first time in ages. No time to play games with revolving doors she was here on business.
The casino floor was abuzz with lost hopes and the clang of the one armed bandits. Everywhere people gambling to their last quarter for a chance lady luck might smile on them. Judas made her way quickly through them in her Victorian style soft velvet dress. Her leather corset was tied super tight around her waist and her breats practically jumped out the top as she stood before the man at the reception desk. She purposely dressed this way, she wanted to be noticed.
Hours later Judas was just getting out of the shower when she heard a clicking scratching sound, someone was trying to pick the lock to her room. Just as planned someone noticed she was in town and sent the welcome wagon. She pulled Thelma and Louise, her .50 calibre Raging Bulls from their holsters. She wrapped the towel around her loosely and his the guns behind her back. As she pushed the door open with her foot she began humming "One Day More" from Les Miserables.
The man was already in her room when she came out of the bathroom. He was a fat greasy son of a bitch with a thick bushy soup catcher beard and handlebar mustache. His t-shirt read "No one knows I'm a lesbian" in big letters. Judas laughed to herself that he was going to die in that silly t-shirt.
"That's far enough" he said rather matter of factly.
"Is it?" Judas asked.
"Yup, hands where I can see 'em"
"As you wish"
She arched her back and pushed her arms behind her even harder as she stretched her chest forward. The towel fell right away and before it hit the floor his shock at the sight of her gorgeous naked frame was all the distraction she needed to put a .50 calibre bullet in each of his beady eyes. Before he could even scream shed closed the distance. In a hotel room inside the Flamingo Hilton in Laughlin Nevada no one asks questions till they smell the stink.
In minutes they were on the roof. He had talked, long and helpfully he painted the picture of circumstances that lead him to break into Judas' hotel room to kill her. He said he name was Horrace Watson but everyone called him Harry or Porkchop. He went on to tell her that Hannah had come here looking for some help after she went to Las Vegas. He recounted what Hannah had told him about her trip to Vegas to find her brother Rex and how it had ended sadly in the poor boy's death at her own hands. How he being a gentleman had to help the poor sweet Hannah on the count of he was an able bodied vampire in desperate need of a companion.
He went on to tell her how poor Hannah poured her heart out to him and asked for his help as she sucked him off. Judas was always amazed, no matter how often she saw it, how talkative the biggest bad ass can be when you have the barrel of a .50 calibre revolver up his ass. He went on to tell her where to find Hannah, his favorite color, show size, about how his degenerate mother made him breat feed till he was twelve years old and tons of other entertaining but useless facts.
After an hour or so Judas tired of his yammering so she hoisted him up by the ankle and hung him over the edge. He barely screamed as she dropped him the several stories to the river walk's hard paved surface. The cracking collapsing sound of his body as it hit the rock solid ground was a great punctuation to their talk Judas thought. He might survive, if he did he'd tell his friends to steer clear of the crazy fucking bitch with the red hair and the brown eyes named Judas "Motherfucking" Christian and that was a fact.
After less than an hour Judas tracked Hannah down, right across the river in Bullhead City Arizona, in the trailer park where Porkchop said she'd be. There she was, as Judas looked through the dusky window, sitting there sucking some new schmuck off and telling her story all over again. Judas watched her work. 'Fucking pathetic' she decided, not worthy. Not worthy at all.
Judas crept silently into the kitchen where she cut the gas lines to the propane oven range. She crept past them in the soft light of the television's glow as Hannah continued sucking and sobbing and Judas broke the light bulb in the bedroom where the draperies were closed tight to keep out the sun. 'When the little slut goes to bed', she thought as she hopped the little chain link fence 'she'll turn that light on and'--
The explosion knocked Judas on her face. She took a few quick seconds to laugh to herself. Before getting up and checking for survivors. The boy might make it. Judas quickly tore his head clean from his shoulders with a spinning heel kick. She found him near where the bedroom had once been. 'Where was Hannah?' she thought. Then her questions was answered in the way of the charred body, fingers wrapped around the refrigerator door. Just to be safe Judas shot it, when it crumbled to dust she was sure.
On the way back to San Diego Judas promised herself, 'no more blondes, no more blondes ever'.