Life Without Parolé.

Episode 6-01 - (Miserable Camp Out)

The cold, violent hand of death finally arrived at Marvin Parolé's bedside. Oh, how long he'd waited for such relief from this absurd family ... damn. Just his father waking him up at - what appeared to be - an insanely early hour.

"Dad! What the hell?" Marv said, pushing his father's hand away while he rolled onto his back. When he opened his eyes again, he saw those of his father exactly two inches above his own. "Gaaa! I'm up! Go away!"

"No can do, sonny boy. It's 4:30, time to get a move-on. That is, if we want to be there by 6:00 so we can start fishing." Sal Parole, already wrapped up in the annual family camping trip, plopped down on Marv's bed, slapping his son on the chest until he was satisfied that those eyes wouldn't roll back behind the sockets again.

"And you wonder why I try to kill myself all the time," Marv said, pushing himself to a sitting position, hair akimbo, eyes struggling through the bright light shining all around his face and body.

Sal just laughed at his wise-cracking son, blowing the comment off as sarcasm. "You know, when you're all grown up, you're going to miss all the time we get to spend together."

At this, Marv's vision cleared up. He made it a point to connect eye-contact with his father as he said, in all seriousness, "Dad, I am a grown up. I'm 19 years old. I've gotta tell you, I will never miss these campouts."

Dismissing this as well, Sal gave his son another jovial pat on the leg as he stood up to awaken his daughter. As soon as his father left the room, Marv slammed back down against his pillow, knocking out a couple stray feathers from the corner.

"Niiiiiniiiii! Time to get uuuuuup!" Sal sauntered in through the unlocked door of his only daughter. Without a response, Sal pulled open the blinds with a strong thrust, only to realize it was still dark outside. "Come on, Nini, we have to get going."

Face down on the pillow, legs sprawled every which way, covers completely kicked off the bed, exposing a body-long night-shirt, Nini reached for the first thing she could grab a hold of, which happened to be the teddy bear she'd slept with since she was a baby, and threw it in the direction of her father's voice - he'd moved over to the door-side of the bed by that point, so the bear fell harmlessly against the window.

"You know, you're lucky I didn't open that, or else your bear would've had quite a fall."

"Get the hell out, Dad! I just fell asleep ... an hour ago!" Nini snatched her wireless alarm clock to check the time and then threw it against the wall, cracking the screen.

"Well, that'll teach you to stay out until all hours of the night with your friends, little missy. Now, come on, get dressed," he said with the voice of a father who had an entire week off of work and meant to have a good time no matter what.

Nini sat up, hanging her legs over the door-side of the bed. "For your information, I was with Robbie, and we weren't out. I was in his bedroom giving him head, so there!" At every opportunity, Nini took it as a personal challenge to see if she could rattle her father, especially when he was at his peak of gung-ho.

Unrelentingly unphased, he replied, "I'm sorry you stayed up all night, but I told you about this trip three months ago. Maybe next time, you and Robbie can finish up at a reasonable hour."

"Just, get out, okay! I guess I've got to change for this God-damned trip." Nini waved her hands at him, motioning him out the door. He went cheerily back into his bedroom.

At the bottom of the stairs, with his two bags packed, Sal called up the stairs, "Hey Ruth! Did you remember to pack my toothbrush?"

From the bathroom, the kind-hearted reply, "Yes honey, I've got it right here."

"What about my ointment?"

"Fungal lotion, got it!"

Sal took a look around the landing with impatience. "Nini! Come on, we're leaving!" As soon as he finished this sentence, Nini tapped him on the shoulder, giving him a start. She continued picking at a bran muffin with two fingers. "Oh, there you are. Where's your brother?" Nini shrugged her shoulders and started to walk out to the car, leaving her bags for someone else to carry. Sal noticed this with a furrow of his brow, then turned to yell at the stairs again.

"Marvin! Let's go!"

Marv, wearing his nicest black slacks along with a black t-shirt, sat poised on his second-story window sill. He figured, if he flipped just right, he could land head first on the ground, thus crushing his spine and precluding him from yet another abominable camping trip with the rest of his loathsome family. Like a diver, Marv pointed his arms straight out, one hand over the other. With a callous roll forward, he presumed to say goodbye to the world.

The fall didn't take long, though it felt like at least two seconds. Nini saw the entire thing from her seat in the back of the SUV; she continued carelessly picking at her muffin. By this time, Sal arrived at Marv's room, but he failed to see the swan dive. Ruth was still in the bathroom, making sure the first aid kit was up to code. Marv didn't make any noise as he fell, only braced himself for a demise he'd waited for all too long. Nini had seen this before - this was her only brother's favorite hobby. By this time, she figured, he was so bad at killing himself, why not find another pastime?

Marv was half right, he did flip with his head facing the ground. Problem was, he continued flipping until his back met with contact. Also, the bushes in front of the house pretty much sealed his fate. Except for a few scratches and a slight loss of wind that had been knocked out, Marv walked away from the incident mostly unnoticed and unharmed (the bushes didn't fare quite as well). Sal grabbed the bag his son packed the night before and brought it downstairs with the rest of the family's luggage.

"Nice job, brother," Nini said with a smirk, not looking over as Marv buckled himself in.

"Fuck off," he replied, waiting for his bag to arrive so he could drown out her nonsense with loud headphonic music.

With the packing complete, Sal only had one more task to complete before he could take his family away from the city for a week. He knocked a few times on his neighbor's door, but no one answered, so he went with the doorbell. After two minutes, a lot of stairs, and even more swears, Bob Harris opened the door, not bothering to hide his manhood with a closed robe-flap. "What is it, Parole?"

"Uh, that's Pair-o-lay, it's French," Sal said seriously, then he smiled. "Here, these are the keys. You told me to drop them off before we left. Just, go ahead and put the mail on the ground in front of the door and make sure to let the dogs out at least twice a day. Other than that-"

"Sal, when I said, 'Before you leave,' I meant, like, the night before! Not at 5 in the damn morning! What are you thinking?" Bob snatched the keys from his neighbor of six months and slammed the door in his face.

This didn't phase Sal one bit, though. He strutted his stuff back to the car and, after closing the door, asked with a bounce in his vocal step, "Is everybody ready?"

An unenthusiastic, inaudible utterance flew in from the backseat in unison while Ruth said, cheery enough for the entire teenage brood, "I'm ready, honey!"

"Well then, off we go!" After a quick gas-pump, key turn, and signal check, they really were off. Off to the same camping spot they went to each and every year. One the kids never fully enjoyed. Sal always took it in stride. At the very least, they were spending time as a family. Perhaps, somewhere off in the back of his mind, he enjoyed torturing his children with this trip every year. It made up for all the crap he had to put up from them the other 51 weeks of the year.


Marv sat and stared out the left-side window at all the trees surrounding the freeway. There couldn't have been a more dull, pained expression on a face, except for the one on his sister right next to him. And, when Sal accidentally drove over a raccoon, causing Nini to drop her cell phone as she was about to check her messages, the camel's back had finally ruptured.

"Dad! What the fuck!" Nini glared, glared at the back of her father's head, though he couldn't have noticed. He was too busy staring out of his side window at the 22 year old blonde in the car next door to even notice the fucking animal he hit. The lane ahead was pretty barren, and he'd been keeping the same pace as the car in the fast lane for the last five miles - as long as he'd noticed that 22 year old blonde was giving head to her 25 year old driver as he, as well, tried to keep from swerving in and out of his lane.

Ruth took notice of her husband's averted attention at the point of the raccoon's skull crushing. She leaned up and over her husband to catch a glimpse of what was so intriguing as to endanger the lives of harmless animals who had the nerve to simply stand on the shoulder of the freeway. With a roll of her eyes, Ruth parked her gaze back on the road ahead, jerking the steering wheel to the left before they hit what appeared to be a possum, followed by a freeway barrier meant to keep cars like theirs from running off into a canyon.

"What are you-" Sal got out before he noticed the angry pout of his wife next to him. "Oh, sorry honey. Got a little distracted there."

"Uh huh. How was her technique?" Ruth said, now able to smirk as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Hey dad, do you think you could pay attention to the road?" Nini said, staring at the eyes in the rearview mirror which came right back on hers.

Marv, not necessarily one to stick up for his parents even when it warranted, had heard enough of his sister's high-pitched whine over the music he had shooting into his ears. "Here's an idea sis, why don't you shut your yap and get some sleep? We're all tired of hearing your skanky ass."

Putting on a look of shock, Nini turned towards her emotionless brother. "Why don't you just turn up your stereo and stop talking; you're sucking the life out of the car!"

"Well, jeez sis, I would have thought you'd enjoy someone else doing the sucking for once."

"Fuck you! I don't have to take that from a little piece of shit like you! I was the female -"

And, in unison, everyone in the car said along sarcastically, " 'The female Macaulay Culkin!' " which shut Nini up for a moment so Marv could sneak in:

"You know, that was six years ago! We know you're richer than us; we get it!"

"Oh, you're just jealous," Nini said, turning away from her family, choosing to stare out the window.

"Yes, I wish I was the actual Macaulay Culkin so I could shut you up! I guess I'll have to settle for the male manifestation of WHO GIVES A CRAP?"

At this point, Sal had heard enough from the peanut gallery. "Hey! No more! I work a long-ass week at the slaughterhouse killing cow after cow. I don't need to deal with this on my only vacation of the year."

Sal thought he'd utilized his authority to its fullest potential, yet he could still hear the faintest mumbling from his daughter as she never turned her glare from the window; "Yeah, maybe you wouldn't have to work if you didn't steal half my money and fuck it all away on titties and booze."

"What did you say?" Sal bellowed, turning his head all the way around to look at Nini.

Ruth saw this along with the potential for yet another animal fatality, so she exclaimed, "Sal! The road!"

"No! No, I caught something about 'titties and boobs,' and I wanted to hear the rest. Perhaps a funny little anecdote my daughter would like to share with the rest of the class!"

"Actually, dad," Marv chimed in, "She said 'titties and booze.' "

Sal lingered his neck-strain towards Nini for another moment longer, since he couldn't pull an Exorcist and twist all the way around. But neither Marv nor Nini provided any further agitation. Sal resumed defensive, safe driving, turning to his left to see if the blow job was wrapping up yet, but he was dismayed to see the car had sped up too far to catch up with. "Fuck, I need a beer! How much longer till we get there, Ruth?"

Ruth consulted with the mile-markers on the side of the road, then cross-referenced them with the directions she printed out from the computer two nights ago, did the math in her head and checked her husband's cruise-controlled speed to come up with the figure of, "About another hour and fifteen minutes."

Sal searched for the nearest available shoulder space where he could stop the car, then brought it to a screeching halt. Ruth was as confused as the children were completely shut off from the entire experience. Sal said nothing, simply getting out of the car, going back to the trunk, checking in all possible directions for the likes of the fuzz, thinking about how many beers he'd need for the next hour and fifteen minutes, then grabbing six cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon from the cooler and slamming the trunk shut. He opened the passenger side door and told Ruth that she was now driving.

"Sal! You can't drink those while I'm driving! If we get caught -"

"We won't," Sal said, no longer with the cheery disposition he featured at the inauguration of this trip. "Now scoot over."

Ruth knew she would be unable to convince her husband of anything when he had that look in his eye. That look that said, I need 400 cc's of alcohol, stat! Or else I'm going to explode. So, she said nothing at all, opting to obey and live to fight her battles another day.

After slamming two beers in a row, Sal's eyes softened ever so slightly, and the smile returned to the tips of his lips. He didn't have a blowjob to look at anymore, but he had the memory of a blowjob firmly implanted. That, and the unabashed gawking at his wife's heaving bazooms (hey, better than nothing), got his pecker all in an uproar. Sal had his vacation shorts on, extra-large plain red swim trunks with the annoyingly cramped inner-lining cut out, which provided ample room for tent-pitching.

Ruth felt fortunate that she spotted this spectacle before her children could, as they were both staring out opposite windows with apathy. With a sharp yet effective whisper, she said, "Sal! What are you doing?"

Sal started rubbing his piece, his eyes ogling his wife but still seeing the 22 year old blonde. His right hand continued bringing the can up to his mouth without any regard for the trooper parked behind a giant bush on the side of the road. Seconds later, the motorcycle cop's lights started a-flashing as he tore onto the highway behind them.

"God dammit, Sal! Look what you did!" Ruth shouted, already starting to pull over.

"Hey! You've got the foot of lead here! Maybe if you weren't speeding -"

"I was driving the speed limit! You're the one holding the open beer!"

"What's going on?" Nini said, secretly hoping this would end their trip prematurely.

"Nothing, honey," Ruth said. Then, she brought her voice way, way down. "Sal, put that away," meaning the blood-filled penis, but Sal took that as he should down the can of beer before the cop approached the window. The only thing Ruth could think of was to pull her top shirt off and throw it on Sal's lap, leaving only the under-shirt that revealed much nippage, sans bra.

"Good thinking, babe! Maybe your jugs will finally come in handy," Sal said with a grin, not only for his quip, but for his drinking ability as the empty can now rested under the seat.

As the cop sauntered over to the driver's side door, Ruth's face turned beat red, realizing that this guy would be able to see everything. Both kids in the backseat sat up and took notice. Nothing would make them sadistically happier than to see a ticket handed down.

Officer Manboy tapped on the glass, looking in and motioning with his hand to roll down the window. Ruth obliged, covering her breasts with her right arm. Officer Manboy ducked his head inside, looking right at Sal. "Enjoying your beverage, sir?"

Ruth, not hearing what was said, reverted to her canned dialogue she'd practiced for the off chance that she might actually be pulled over one day - this being her first. "Is there a problem officer?"

Manboy, with an incredulous look on his face, looked at the uncomfortable driver in front of him, then said, dripping with sarcasm, "Well, I noticed your passenger treating your vehicle like a tavern and I thought I'd give y'all a ticket for the trouble."

Ruth, still not taking in what was said to her, reached into the glove compartment to retrieve her registration and insurance card. She handed both documents to Manboy, along with her drivers license without saying a word.

"Actually, ma'am, I'm gonna have you ask you to step out of the car," Manboy said, walking back to the edge of the shoulder.

"But, officer, I wasn't drinking! Why do you want me -"

"Ma'am, please."

Ruth opened the door and stood in front of Officer Manboy, finally dropping her arm to her side. She then changed her attitude to that of Seductress, gently placing her hand on Manboy's bicep. "This isn't necessary, is it ... officer?"

Manboy couldn't help staring at her cans, then regained his composure. "Ma'am, seducing an officer is punishable by jail time. You do realize this, right?"

Instantly, Ruth reverted back to her timid ways. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Please, don't do that, I didn't mean -"

"What's your name?"

"Ruth Parolé."

"Ruth, I'm gonna have you walk this line here, up to the front edge of the car, and then return to me. Can you do that for me?"

Ruth did as she was told with flying colors, walking to within two feet of Officer Manboy. As she stopped, Manboy lunged into her, grabbing a handful of her breasts, causing her to fall to the ground.

"Officer! What are you doing?"

Manboy, returning to his frigid straight posture with a light cough, looked down at her, regretting his actions, along with the fact that his motorcycle camera had it all on tape. "It looks like you're sober enough. Just ... tell your husband to put the beer away or else I'll have to take you all in." With that, he returned quickly to his bike and sped away, leaving Ruth fondled, but otherwise all right.

Sal saw the entire spectacle with indifference sprinkled with amusement. Ruth silently got back into the driver's seat, snatching her shirt from Sal's crotch.

"Mom! That cop just sexually harassed you! You should file a report," Nini said, completely appalled.

Ruth continued in her silence, starting the car and re-entering the highway.

"How was it, hon? Everything you imagined?" Sal said, still smirking away.

"Shut up," Ruth said curtly, not looking over. Had she done so, she would have seen the continuation of Sal's arousal still at full mast.

"I've gotta tell ya, I've never been more proud," Sal said, opening another can of beer. Upon hearing this, she snatched it from his hand and threw the full can out of her window. "What the hell?"

"I don't want to have to go through that again, Sal!"

"What? I'm sure if he saw me again, all you'd have to do is flash him once, let him get a clear view of what he's already felt up." Sal's happiness quickly turned sour as he realized that he'd no longer be enjoying any more beer until they hit the lake. That, coupled with the fact that Ruth would most definitely be holding out for the remainder of the trip, caused his Johnson great dismay.

With Nini's cries still reverberating off the walls inside of the car, each family member evacuated at the following rest area. Nini to pee, Ruth to grab a cup of coffee, Sal to chug another beer or two. That left Marvin, wandering around, through the trees, desperately trying to find a deserted piece of land to bring out his hash pipe in peace.

Nini was the only member of the family to know about Marvin's fondness for the reefer, but she would keep quiet - what with all the dirt he had on her as well. It wasn't as though he feared reprisal from his parental units; Marv just loathed any kind of confrontation with them.

Once he found a shady spot, Marv took a seat and brought the piece to his lips. Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty ...

Since Sal's addiction didn't stop with the frosty beer can, he wandered the area looking for his other true love: T&A-not-belonging-to-the-woman-he-married. He noticed a skinny little number looking over the maps and information on this particular area of Wisconsin - approximately 60 miles from their hometown of Heartland in the cheesy state. She appeared to be just a touch over 16, but there was no harm in looking, right? Maybe even some polite banter?

"So, where you headed?" Sal said with all the qualities of a Grade A perv.

The girl noticed the armpit-stained t-shirt, the beer belly with accompanying beer in hand, the dark whiskers and unwashed hair of a middle aged man with inquiry and bemusement on her face: What makes you think you can talk to me? She replied, nonetheless, "My family and I are going camping at Lake Wohosica."

"No shit? That's where I'm going too. Maybe I'll see you and your family there."

"God, I hope not," she said. The double meaning in this statement going as: Get lost; don't wanna see you; and I wish to bloody hell I wasn't going at all! I hate that place.

Sal took it solely as the former.

"Hey, you know what? I'm just tryin' to be friendly here!"

The girl, who had started to walk away, turned toward him again and said, "No! You're trying to hit on a minor! You saw my t-shirt and my shorts and you thought you'd found some slut. Well, you're wrong! Now, get lost ya creep!"

Sal would have continued the argument all the way to the Supreme Court - that being to the girl's car and with her father - had it not been for Ruth's clear head and swift feet.

"Come on, hon. We better get going." Ruth gently placed her hands on her husband's shoulders and guided him - half pushing from behind - back to the car.

Sal said, along the way, so anyone who cared could hear, "That little tramp. Thinks she can talk to me that way. Who raised her, anyway?"

To wit, Nini, standing by the car, said, "Come on! Let's get this over with. Where the hell's Marvin anyway?"

Marvin shuffled back to the car, eyes drooping ever-so-slightly. Finally ready to take on this trip.


Ruth Parolé stood over a pile of camping equipment and three lethargic bodies. She'd managed to drag everything out of the back of the station wagon by herself. Nini managed to unfold a chair next to the rubble; Marvin couldn't even manage that much as he fell asleep on a pile of tarps. Sal sat at the foot of a tree, three empty beer cans around him, while working on a fourth. At the sight of this, Ruth finally spoke up.

"Isn't anyone going to help me?"

Marvin remained motionless in silence; Nini stared at her mother, Are you kidding? Sal kept muttering to himself as he finished number four and crushed it in his hand.

Ruth softened her tone moreso as she called over to her husband. "Sal, would you mind giving me a hand with this tent? I have no idea where all the pipes are supposed to go."

"Dammit, Ruth! Can't you see I'm not in the mood right now? Just leave it; I'll put it up later." Of course, Ruth knew that "later" would find Sal most likely passed out down by the lake. Or in the lake. Either way, Ruth was prepared with her grain of salt she always kept for her husband's promises.

Something in Sal's mind agitated him, so he stood up and filled a mini-cooler with Pabst. "I'm going for a walk." Ruth watched him march not towards the lake, but off towards the woods. And the other campgrounds. She hoped her husband wouldn't get into too much trouble, but for the time being, she had to figure out how to get the damn tent up.

"Here, mom. Let me help," Nini said, taking the tent directions from her mother. Ruth started to pick up a pipe with a smile, but she found Marvin gently taking it from her hands.

"Let us do it. You go ahead and take a break," Marvin said. "Would you like some water or anything?"

Ruth couldn't have been more moved. She was beaming, beaming! "Oh, no thank you, son." Ruth sat in the camping chair vacated by Nini and silently watched the fruit of her loins pitching in and helping her out. Ruth placed her interlaced hands behind her head and closed her eyes.

"Mom ... Mom!" Ruth awakened to the shouts of her daughter. "Mom, when's the tent gonna be done? I want to change and take a nap!" The realization finally hit. It was a dream ... dammit!

"In a little while. I need to rest now."

"Well, I'm sure Marvin can help you out with that. Right, Marv?" Nini said.

Marvin said nothing, still in his laid-back position on the tarps. With a scowl, Marvin pantomimed the use of heroin by tapping his arm vein and making the injecting gestures with his thumb and first two fingers. Ruth couldn't see any of this, but it certainly shut Nini up.

Nini couldn't think of a group of people she loathed more than her family - even more than all those agents who kept turning her down for work. Her current disgust finally thrust her from the campsite in search of anyone else that could be of a little comfort. Read: guys.

One might say that Robbie could be considered her boyfriend. But he wasn't here at the moment, and Nini wasn't one to tie herself down in the name of, "Going Steady."

She wandered the campground, searching high and low, most definitely not dressed for the great outdoors. Clad in a tight miniskirt, with a pale halter top with her black bra seen through, Nini figured she'd be dressed to kill in most settings. And in this setting ... she considered her chances a dead lock.

Sure enough, Nini happened upon a small group of college students knocking back their mixed drinks in Nalgene bottles around a roaring 11am campfire. In her purse, she figured she had enough smack to go around. And one lucky fellow would have his way with an eager "eighteen year old" later that afternoon.

Sal lumbered through the forest like a bear with an elephant tranquilizer addiction. The only thing on his mind at the moment was finding that pert young tart who'd made him look the fool at the rest area.

"Damn cunt; she's got this comin' to 'er."

Sal angrily slapped at bushes with his beer-drinking hand, sloshing tiny puddles as he did so. The other arm was swishing the mini-cooler back and forth with the veracity of a Wall Street investor late for a meeting.

And finally, after a half hour of searching, he'd found the rear end he'd been looking for - bent over the fire, warming herself after a dip in the lake. Bathing suit. Two piece, pale yellow, soaked to her skin. Slight indentation from where the two cheeks met. And a dark, tan body. Most rare in these parts of the country. Looked like maybe she and her family came from California. Hollywood area.

It appeared that the girl's family was nowhere near their campsite, so Sal let his erect Y-rod lead the way through the bushes. And, in this case, his Y-rod wasn't in search of water.

"Why do you look so familiar? I feel like I've seen you someplace before."

"Oh, great line, Dave! You should ask her for her sign too," one of the girls by the fire said, being squeezed by her main squeeze.

"No, I'm serious. Have you been on TV or something?" Dave said.

The girl's main squeeze chimed in at this one, "Yeah, tell her she looks like a model. Maybe she'll give you a private show in your tent!" For that, he received a hard smack to the chest from his girlfriend.

Nini just soaked in all the attention with the satisfaction of a recently fixed junkie. As soon as Dave finished with his questioning, Nini stood up and silenced the buzzed brood with her outstretched arms.

"Tell me if this refreshes your memory," Nini said. She turned around for a moment, like all great impressionists do. Only here, she'd be impersonating herself.

Nini turned back around, facing the awestruck group with tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up, fingers interlaced in front of her chin, with that same pitiful expression she'd used twelve years ago; and said in a quivering voice, "Did I do something ... wrong?"

That line, spoken at the near-conclusion of the film that would propel her to childhood superstardom, would have been followed by her character's father, portrayed by Rick Moranis, with his polite, kind-hearted smile and a pat on the head. "No, honey. You did everything just right. The rangers know it was the wolves that started the fire, not you."

In this semi-circle, that line was followed by blown minds. A couple of them pointed with major O-faces sported, Dave smacked his forehead in recognition, and the rest just had goofy grins on. Then, they all broke out in cheers and chatter. Nini couldn't really make out what was said, as she curtseyed and sat back down next to Dave.

Marvin returned from his "walk" an hour after he left his mother alone, only to find the tent set up, and four plates sitting at the picnic table, Ruth in front of one of them.

Ruth could never tell which Marvin she'd get when she saw him. He'd grown up such a happy-go-lucky, wisecracking boy. Yet, over the years she'd noticed a change in him. To the young man she'd faced this morning. Quiet, somber. More and more, Ruth would find her little Marvie with this sour-puss persimmons, cousin.

So, it was a real treat to see Marv sit at the table, all smiles. He chomped into his meatloaf sandwich like he'd gone without food for days. With an elated moan, Marv said, "Mmm! This sandwich ... if a sandwich could be orgasmic, this would be it." Marv ate like Takeru Kobayashi in an Oscar Mayer factory and tossed in the chips from his plate as well.

"I'm glad you like it," Ruth said.

"Mmm, I'm gonna go ahead and eat Nini's too. She won't mind," Marv said, already with a biteful of sandwich number two in his bananarly yellows.

"What makes you say that? Isn't she coming back for lunch?"

Through the full mouth, Marv said, "She won't be back for dinner, I'm thinking. She's with a group of people down that way," he pointed off to his right, not looking. "She'll most likely be sleeping over there."

"Does she know them or something?"

Marv stopped eating and gave his mother a look. "Mom," was all he said, as if she should know better. After all, when did Nini ever have to know someone to sleep in his bag?

Sal silenced his prey with a very large hand over her mouth and these words: "If you scream, I'll break your neck."

She knew he meant it. She'd never seen such rage in anyone's eyes before. She let Sal drag her to a secluded area of the woods, wishing that she'd waited with her parents down by the lake.

Sal dragged the girl up a dirt hill with a vice grip on her left wrist. She fell down a couple times; dirt clung to her still-damp body. Finally, Sal discovered the seclusion he'd been searching for.

On the dry pine needles, Sal thrust the girl's top off and started furiously cupping her breasts. Eyes bulged along with his camping shorts. He brought in his face for a mouth-pleasing delight.

With Sal hunched over, the girl remembered what her sensei told her to do in such a situation. {"Confucius say: when man of beer try more than leer, dry your tears and box his ears."} She balled her fists up and, utilizing his distracted haste, socked his ears simultaneously.

Sal's head exploded in a fit of ringing. He recoiled backward just enough for the girl to bring her knees up to her face and heave her feet outward towards his chest. As he fell back and rolled over onto his stomach, she grabbed her bikini top and ran back for the hill.

Sal was in no condition to chase after her at that point. The shock was enough to incapacitate him for several minutes. With his last bit of strength, he looked up to see the backside of those jiggling breasts he'd tasted moments before, scampering away.

The girl reached her campsite, still topless, out of breath, clutching her top while covering her chest and trying to explain to her father why she was in this state. He hated seeing her like this; he'd never get used to the idea of his little girl having breasts - but that's a story for another time. At the moment, he was too horrified by the words coming out of his daughter's mouth to worry about whether or not his own offspring might inadvertently give himself wood.

"Dolly, is this true?"


"Well, I'm going to call the police. Marge, get the cell phone!"

Within the hour, Officer Manboy was on the scene, taking down Dolly's description, thinking to himself, You're a man of the law. Stop staring at this girl!

Officer Manboy knew right away that this attempted rapist was the same dirt bag he'd pulled over earlier. With the hot wife. All this sexual energy flowing through him today didn't prevent him from finding Sal a few hundred yards away from the would-be raping tree, passed out after chugging some more beer.

"Maybe, with this scum in prison, I can be of some condolence for his wife ..."

After the blow to the chest - I think she cracked a rib (whatta woman!) - Sal decided to stay there a while and let the alcohol do its job. That lasted a good ten minutes, then he remembered there were things called "rape laws" and people called "po-po" who would be more than happy to incarcerate good-intentioned blokes much like himself. Really, Sal never intended to ... oh who was he kidding? Sal would never be able to explain his way out of this one.

He couldn't go back to the campsite, though. That's the first place they'd check! So, Sal did the next best thing. He picked up his beer, saw the forest through the trees, and walked into that forest. Deep, deep in. He walked until there was no more room to walk anymore. He walked until he chafed. He walked and walked and walked as far as his legs would take him. And, when he said, "Damn, I've been walking for-ev-er!" Sal took a seat next to a bush and opened up another can.

Ruth began to worry when she didn't see Sal come dinner time. Marvin, for some reason, found himself enamored with the unlit lantern sitting on the picnic table. Dozens of minutes passed, but Ruth couldn't get through to him to see if he'd go out and look for his father. "You probably wouldn't go anyway," she said loud enough for him to hear if he was actually there. "I guess, as usual, I'll have to do it."

Ruth figured he probably passed out somewhere, in which case, he'd be most difficult to find anyway. But, the worrywart in her kept reminding Ruth of the possibilities of bears or vagrants or hermits who might live in the vicinity and would love nothing more than to add her husband's head to their collection of big-game trophies.

Ruth passed by a family huddled around an obviously distraught teenage girl wrapped up in a body-sized towel, speaking to a police officer ... that ... looked just like ...

Ruth ducked behind the nearest group of trees. The last thing she wanted was to be noticed by Officer Manboy. Luckily, he hadn't noticed. One thing was clear, though. Her intuition was telling her that she had to find her husband before Manboy did.

Her first performance was a pleasant surprise. Her second and third were by request. Her twelfth started to drain on the group's nerves. However, when she pulled her pants down and started peeing on the fire because, "That fucking outhouse is too fucking far away!" the group had had enough.

"Listen, Nini, it was great meeting you and all, but I think you should leave." Dave stood up and tried to gently coax her out of the campsite with an arm around her back, but she spun around and slapped him in the face too fast for him to react in prevention.

"Don't fucking touch me! I wouldn't have sex with you even if you gave me millions of dollars!"

Dave turned to his friends with an incredulous look, which was returned en masse. "I never said I wanted to have sex with you. Are you crazy? Besides, we got a pretty good show back there as it is."

Nini, too many cocktails and too much smack into her day to absorb rational thought, retorted, "Listen fucker, when I call my lawyer, I'm gonna have you all put in prison!"

"OK, you go do that. Go call your lawyer right now. Bye bye then." Dave gave her another gentle shove with his left hand which did the trick, sending Nini stumbling back in the direction in which she came.

Only, Nini didn't go back to her campsite. She thought she was going back to her campsite, but those trees ... they all look the same!

Ruth happened upon her snoring husband, but it was too late. He was already roused by Officer Manboy and being read his rights, though retained rather reprehensibly. She still peeked through the trees, though, so Manboy wouldn't notice her as he dragged her husband back to the campsite of the girl and her family.

For an officer of the law, Manboy certainly couldn't tell when he was being watched. In all honesty, Manboy had his thoughts controlled by his Johnson to the point where he couldn't hear the snapping twigs approximately twenty feet behind him. Not just for Ruth's massive bazooms, but also for the tight little figure on the girl Sal tried to deflower. Though, whenever his frustrations returned - for he'd most likely never achieve oral pleasure from either of the two bitches - he gave Sal an extra hard shove in the direction of the campsite.

Marvin snapped out of it about twenty minutes after his mother left. The rumbling in his stomach wouldn't go away, and dinner was not on the table!

Now, if only his mother kept the food in the campsite somewhere, you know, in a special tent, or fuck, just put it by the fucking picnic table! But, no. His mother was anal, therefore the cooler and the rest of the food sat in the back of the car, so stray animals wouldn't force the family into starvation. The car, after Marv ran over to invade, turned out to be locked for some motherfucking reason!

Well, Marv wouldn't sit by and let this aggression stand. He had his wits about him enough to know not to break the window. Breaking windows might arouse suspicion, and anyway, it'd be costly and lecturely.

So, off he walked. Off in search of his missing family. But, more importantly, off to get the fucking keys so he could eat and pass out. Because, passing out on an empty stomach was not in the cards for this trip. Not with all the weed he'd planned on smoking.


"Is this the man that sexually assaulted you, ma'am?"

"Yes! That's the fucking creep!"

"Dolly! Watch your language!"

"But, mom! That man is a fucking creep!"

"All right, that's enough," Dolly's father said. "Now, honey, you're sure this is the man? I mean, you definitely saw his face, right? I don't wanna be sued for false imprisonment, now."

"Dad, I'm positive. First, he was coming on to me at the rest stop, then he came up behind me and ..."

"Yes, ma'am. I have your statement. Thank you for your patience, everyone. I'll just go ahead and take him in now. You'll need to go to the station sometime today for more questioning." As Manboy was giving directions to the station, Sal, hunched over in his inebriated state, finally looked up and caught the attention of Dolly's father.

"Sal? Sal Parolé? Is that you?"

Through the slur, recognition. "Darius? Darius! Man, how long's it been?"

"It's been a while, I guess. You remember Marge, right?"

Marge stood next to Dolly with her hands on her hips, glaring at her husband.

"Yeah, how're you Marge?"

Marge didn't respond to Sal. To Darius, she said, "What is this? Don't you remember what he did to our little girl?"

"Marge, please," Darius said sternly. "I'm talking to an old friend here." Then, back to Sal, "So, Sal, you still working at the slaughterhouse?" Darius laughed at that, remembering what Sal always told him:

"Next summer, I'm getting a real fucking job. If I do this fucking shit any longer, I'm gonna kill someone! Most likely myself!"

"Actually, I am. Are you still at that law office you were interning at?"

"Not only that, but now I'm partner. Came up here to celebrate with the family."

"I always knew you'd make it," Sal said.

"So, what have you been up to, ya old dog?" Darius approached Sal to shake his hand, then noticed they were in handcuffs. "Oh, officer ... Manboy? That's a weird name. Anyway, Manboy, you can let him go. We won't be pressing any charges."



"Hey, he didn't mean anything by it. This man, this man saved my life! Remember that, Sal?"

Sal did not, but he nodded anyway.

"When we were kids, we were climbing a tree. Well, Sal was the first one down, and I was following him, but my foot slipped and I fell directly on top of him. Knocked you out cold, man. I thought I killed you! But, it was just a little head injury. Saved my life though. So, I figure I owe him one."

"Dad, you can't be serious! He had my breast in his -"

"Dolly, now, I'm sure he's learned his lesson, right Sal?" Darius gave a mock-mean look in Sal's direction, with accompanying wink.

"Oh, yeah," Sal said, realizing and playing along. "I won't do it again, I promise." The two men busted out laughing while the rest in the group, Ruth included - who'd tip-toed over without anyone noticing - looked on in amazement and horror.

Officer Manboy, without a recourse, brought his keys to the handcuffs and unlocked the would-be prisoner. As Sal rubbed his wrists as everyone does once handcuffs are taken off, he made eye contact with his wife and said, "Ruth, come over here! I want you to meet an old friend of mine. Darius, this is my wife, Ruth."

"Good to meet you, Ruth. You keep an eye on this one, now. Gotta keep him outta trouble." All of this was said good-naturedly.

Ruth smiled and put an arm around her husband, who did likewise. "I always try, but you know Sal!" The three of them laughed at that; Manboy gave one last look at Ruth's fanny before getting back on his bike.

"Mom! There you are! I need the keys; you locked up the food and I'm starving!" Marvin walked up behind his parents. He made no attempt to greet any of the people around him, waiting impatiently for his mother to drop the car keys into his outstretched hand. After searching through her purse for a full minute, she came out with them. The keys stayed in her hand long enough for Marv to snatch them away like he was grabbing a goldfish from a pond, then they were off on a jog back to the car.

"Anyway, you're both welcome to join us for dinner," Darius said. Dolly's eyes widened even more than the saucers she was already sporting, and she marched back into the tent in a huff. Marge did the same, leaving the three loons to their meal.

"Oh, we couldn't impose," Ruth said, already remembering the prepared meal she's packed for this evening's supper.

"Nonsense! Sal, I've got some Budweiser stocked in the cooler. You still drink Bud?"

"Not since they cut back my hours, the fucks. I'm a PBR man now."

"Well, then I insist you stick around. We've got a lot of catching up to do," Darius said, walking over to the cooler and grabbing a couple cans. "Here, have a seat."

"If you're offering, I guess I can't say no. Ruth, if you don't mind, I'm gonna hang out here for a while. Just save dinner, I'll eat when I come back."

"OK, hon," Ruth said, merrily walking back to camp.

"So, that daughter of yours," Sal said, not one for inhibitions at the moment. "Quite the looker if you don't mind my saying so."

"You know, that thought has crossed my mind," Darius said. "I mean, of course I would never act on it, but when I see her walk out of the bathroom in the morning with only a towel on -"

"Dad, I can hear you!" Dolly yelled from the tent, mortified to no end.

Darius was about to yell back, but then noticed someone walk into a tree about fifty yards from his seat, and broke out into laughter. He pointed in the direction of the disaster coming towards them; Sal turned and looked.

"Nini! What are you doing here?"

Nini didn't say anything. She zigzagged this way and that until, finally, she reached the two gentlemen in lawn chairs sharing a love of American beer. Nini looked directly at Darius and said, "You're not my father."

"Nope. My name's Darius, and you're ... Nini?"

"Nini used to be in movies," Sal said. He liked to play the proud father when he was hammered - that is, when he wasn't in a foul mood. "What is it you always call yourself, Nini? The female ..."

"I was the female Suck My Dick!"

This brought both men out of their chairs with laugher, Sal on the ground, wiping away tears. When he composed himself, he said, "Nini, you're 16 years old now. You're old enough to have a beer. But, don't tell your mother. She'll kill me if she found out I gave you your first taste of alcohol."

Nini brought the can up to her mouth and started chugging away.

"Boy, Sal, she sure takes after her father, doesn't she?"

"I guess. Must have been all those soda commercials she did as a kid taught her how to chug like that."

Nini really wasn't of fit body to consume any more alcohol, but she'd be damned if she'd turn down a beer now. Like a champ, Nini finished the full can, crushed it in her hand, threw it to the ground, and exclaimed, "Gimme 'nother one!"

Darius reached into the cooler and opened a second can for her. When he reached out to hand it to her, though, Nini collapsed to the ground. Passed out.

Darius and Sal both looked at each other and laughed.

"What a lightweight!" Sal said.

"Well, it was her first beer," Darius said.

"My first time drinking? I had ten beers in two hours, and I was fine!"

"I remember that! You were 15 and you were hitting on that 11 year old all night. You were not fine! You were hammered! And you kept asking for Jack in the Box."