Gregory John Helman was born on the 6th of July in a quiet, country hospital in Westberg, Connecticut. His mother had been in labour for 42 hours before Greg extracted his blood streaked head from between his mother\u2019s legs. He would never know his mother. She would die minutes after his birth. Had the hospital known of the boy\u2019s father, they still could not have given the newborn into his father\u2019s custody as his father was in the custody of the state. It was unfortunate business all around but luck would follow Greg all his life – usually arriving weeks after Greg had departed to somewhere else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today was his 28th birthday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rivets of blood ran down his eyes and pooled on the hard steel table on which he lay. His arms lay slightly outstretched at his sides and bound by leather restraints. His feet were likewise restrained. For some reason his pants had been removed and his soiled boxers were the only clothing he wore. He knew they were soiled because the of squishy goo that squeezed between his upper thighs and allowed his buttocks to slide inside their cotton prison. His tormenters had believed he had lost control of his bodily functions through the pain but he had actually done it on purpose to give himself a reprieve from their insatiable pokes and prods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They returned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan you at least hose him down or something?\u201d came a baritone voice. It\u2019s pitch rose slightly. \u201cI can\u2019t work under these conditions\u201d it whined. \u201cSeeing that blood and shit mix together reminds me of my mom\u2019s refried beans. And it\u2019s all over the goddamn floor for Chrissakes! One of us might slip or\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStop talking you whiny bitch. I\u2019ve had enough\u201d a gruffer voice replied. \u201cI can\u2019t very well ask one of the maids upstairs to clean him up now can I? Just grab a bucket and try and wash some of it away. Then start again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some swearing and cursing was the only response. Footsteps receded. Despite his pain, Greg felt some small sense of satisfaction. His plan had worked perfectly. Now if only he could get off this table and away from these torturing fiends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlright Greg. You with me?\u201d came the first voice coupled with a few slaps to the face. We need the location of the girl. I don\u2019t know why you\u2019re protecting her. She\u2019s just a whore who\u2019s played you. She\u2019s got all the cash and you\u2019re the one left holding the bag.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFuck you Peterson\u201d Greg spat. \u201cShe\u2019s not a whore. Let me off this table and I\u2019ll show you what being a whore is really like!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou and your homosexual references Gregory\u201d responded \u2018Peterson\u2019 patronizingly. \u201cI don\u2019t swing that way.\u201d he chuckled. \u201cYou know, it\u2019s a funny phrase don\u2019t you think? \u201cLeft holding the bag I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These monologues always had a point. And it was never good for Greg. \u201cYou see people would buy piglets from the market. These pigs would be sold in bags that the buyer could not see inside. But the animal inside would squeal all the way home and the buyer would assume they had their supper on their shoulder. Well certain shrewd farmers would put a cat in the bag instead because they would squeal like a pig. The buyer wouldn\u2019t be any wiser until he got home. Well once he was home they\u2019d open the bag and the cat would jump out – hence the phrase let the cat out of the bag<\/em>. At this point the buyer would finally know he had been cheated. But the person who let the cat out of the bag<\/em>? Well that was the person left holding the bag<\/em>. See the two phrases are tied together. The farmer holding the bag is responsible. He\u2019s the one who brings home the bacon<\/em> and he\u2019s the one who gets the punishment. And Greg – today you\u2019re the farmer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ve always wanted to be a farmer. I\u2019ve always thought I was cut out for the simple life\u201d he said sardonically. The longer Peterson was willing to talk the longer Greg was willing to listen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell Greg, you could still be a farmer. If you gave us what we wanted we might just buy you a farm<\/em>. You could continue your little Mary Jane operation and we could go back to being partners. We know you didn\u2019t play a big part in this. We know that little cunt gives the best damn blow job in town and that can make any guy\u2019s mind get a little squirrely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFuck you.<\/em> We both know I\u2019m a dead man. I heard you talking to the Snowman outside. And he\u2019s not here to discuss my love life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCareful Greg. You know he doesn\u2019t like that nickname. He was drugged in Vegas and wasn\u2019t an active participant in that. He\u2019s threatened to cut the cock off any man who brings it up so you\u2019re lucky he\u2019s far away in the next room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTell him my cock won\u2019t work unless I\u2019m attached.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cClever.\u201d A short pause. \u201cGreg, you remember my little cat Peppy? I found her in the alley just behind Vinnie\u2019s <\/em>– that same bar where you met your little whore.\u201d Another pause. \u201cNow Peppy isn\u2019t real friendly-like. I pretty much have to keep her caged. You might even wonder why I keep the little feisty feline around but she and I have a common joy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A low growl rose from a burlap sack near the table. Greg knew Peppy. She and he had occasionally had their differences. Peppy had always won.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe mean part of Peppy comes out because she doesn\u2019t like to be held by her tail. And being swung around by her tail – oh boy does that make her mad.\u201d Another short pause. \u201cWhat I\u2019m going to do Greg, is to swing her by her tail on to your chest. She\u2019s probably not going to like that so she\u2019s going to latch on to whatever she can hold – like your skin for instance – and then I\u2019m going to pull her off of you (forcibly if necessary). Every five successful swings will result in a slight reprieve while I ask you where your little missus is. If you refuse to answer, we do it again and again and again. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Greg didn\u2019t reply. Instead, he wet himself. And this time, it wasn\u2019t intentional. The bag writhed in anticipation of what was to come. Greg could see Petersons gold rolex. He hadn\u2019t even bothered to take it off for this. It was specked with blood and read just before midnight. In a explosive movement Peppy jumped inside the bag aiming for the hand that held it. Peterson held on. Greg felt ill.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2026 I don\u2019t know where she is. She has the money. She could be anywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Peterson liked progress we he saw it. \u201cMaybe you were going to meet up somewhere. Like on a Carribean island perhaps?\u201d he prodded gently. Peppy scratched and snarled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe said we should go to Seattle. She said she has family there and you guys didn\u2019t have a presence there.\u201d The words were flowing faster now. And the cat seemed to be calmer in response. \u201cI don\u2019t know if she was lying. She could have been. But we were supposed to meet at Minstrels<\/em> in New Jersey tonight if everything went well. She\u2019d have the tickets she\u2019d said. That was the plan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe whole plan?\u201d Peterson asked? Maxwell \u2018the Snowman\u2019 and a couple other \u2019strongmen\u2019 were already heading out the door. They had been quietly listening to everything. He was glad that the Snowman had shown such restraint with Greg\u2019s mention of Vegas. Max was a good man for a closet homosexual with a penchant for sodomy and circle jerks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Besides the one guard left in the other room Greg and Peterson were alone. \u201cWell there is one other thing\u201d said Greg slowly, very much aware of the cursing cat in a bag now on the floor. \u201cI\u2019ve been taking acting lessons as part of a community college program.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cUh huh\u201d responded his tormentor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n An metallic explosion rang out in the next room. Then a thud as something heavy dropped to the floor. \u201cI think my forte is dungeon scenes. I was maybe hoping to get a part like that movie Reservoir Dogs <\/em>– I could be that cop who gets gasoline poured on him\u201d continued Greg as Peterson ignored him while looking at the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The door opened. The silhouette of young shapely woman with her arms outstretched lined the doorway. She held a magnum .44 aimed directly at Petersen. \u201cYou\u2019ve got to be fucking kidding<\/em>?\u201d were his last words before he too fell to the floor. His head landed next to the bag and Peppy latched on through the burlap in a violent attempt to gouge out his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBaby you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m having a little trouble getting up\u201d Greg replied with a hint of sarcasm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy hero\u201d she grinned, glad that he still had the strength to be a dick. She released the restraints and Greg slowly slid of the table, careful not to put too much weight before he was sure of his ability to stand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIs the money safe?\u201d It was his way of saying thanks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTaken care of sweety. Let\u2019s get out of here before they come back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The couple walked, she holding him up slightly, towards the door. \u201cWAIT!\u201d He tried to turn around and they both almost fell. \u201cGive me the gun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n With an odd glance she handed him the cannon. Shaking slightly he lifted the gun up to shoulder height. The burlap sack was now atop Peterson\u2019s dead carcass scratching at his face. Greg squeezed out a shot. The gun roared. The bag instantly exploded with blood, launched off the dead man below and slid along the floor to finally rest against the wall. Greg fired a second shot just to be sure<\/em> and handed the gun back to the girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She rolled her eyes and together they left the room.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Gregory John Helman was born on the 6th of July in a quiet, country hospital in Westberg, Connecticut. 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