Naked Stoic Lesbian Delivery Service: Chapter Three

Naked Stoic Lesbian Delivery Service: Chapter Three

Chapter One

Chapter Two

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit". That's what really goes through your head when you've screwed the pooch proper. Nobody, and I mean nobody is so cool that they don't at least think in a string of swears when the bad stuff goes down. I don't care if you're some born bad sumnabitch with a nasty scar across your eye, you screw up something big and you're a panicky teenage girl on the inside. That's why I'm not ashamed to admit I had something of a minor tizzy when I dropped the November shipment down the cellar steps that one time. Sure, the way they landed was kinda sexy, but there was a mighty good chance at least one of them would walk funny ever after, if their necks didn't just snap on the way down. Stoics are intense creatures, but don't let that fool you into thinking they aren't fragile like you and me. They are. They're soft, sensitive. They have feelings, even if they keep them hid.

The whole mess started at some broke down mission in the middle of God's ass-crack Idaho. From the looks of things, no living soul, at least none human, had set tippy-toes in the building for more than a decade. They like places like that, stoics. They like walls and quiet. Link sent me out there on my own that day, said he had some business to take care of. So there I was, clutching an air rifle with tranq darts like some kinda moron gets shot right at the beginning of the Vietnam movie. We didn't have any confirmed reports, but I knew in my bones that at least one naked stoic lesbian was living in that old mission.

Before that day I'd never seen one of them eat. I knew they had to, or at least I assumed, but I had no idea what. I guess I spooked the two of them in the middle of dinner, 'cuz when I got inside the chapel I found an old collection plate with some nibbled bits of dandelions and tiny bird bones. They'd made themselves a salad. The sun was setting. I'd have to be quick.

The first one, the blonde one, was hanging in the rafters. Just thinking about how it must have been watching me all that time, I still get a chill. I fired off a round and missed, but it didn't matter. The blonde lost its footing and fell down to the floor. It was out cold and the other one, the brunette, ran out of a broom closet looking powerful scared. It made these clicky whimpering noises, cradling the blonde's head in its hands. I put the tranq right in its neck. I can't be sure, but I think it was posing for me.

I knew I had to get them out to the truck fast, but I got clumsy. I lost my grip and they fell down this set of stairs around the back leading down to the storm cellar. I pulled the truck around and got them up as quick as I could. I don't know if it was from the stairs or from the fall in the chapel, but the blonde one was looking pretty banged up. Link'd have my nuts for a damaged fair-head. Those are rare enough in the wild as it is. I decided I'd pop around to the motel before I brought them to the old barn for tagging, just to clean them up a bit, make sure they were all right.

When I got to the room, Link was there and he wasn't alone. There I was, two limp stoics hanging from my arms, staring right into the barrel of a mean-looking Glock. There was a stoic on the bed, wide awake and bristling like thunder was about to shoot out its nipples. The TV was going berserk and the phone was smoking. Link was painted up like some kinda shaman and all he said was, "Close the damn door, idgit!"