Terry 3

*** Warning Mature themes and shady antics are included. ***

Excerpt from Obsolete, a Terry Ford novel.  Under construction

Joey Cane considered the 8-ball of blue glittering powder in the glass vial before him. The pimp had purchased the strange substance for a thousand dollars, which was outrageous in price but somehow the man convinced him. Joey was told it would ramp his girls up to work all night and well into the next day. According to the man you could snort it, shoot it, smoke it, or even outright eat it. Suspicious still Joey had informed the man if the stuff was ‘bunk’ he would hunt down the throwback to the 70’s and ‘ace’ him.

The pimp frowned, recalling the man showed not the slightest concern to the threat, and even more concerning Joey had trouble remembering what the man looked like. A white disco outfit, black tie, platform shoes? Or was it sandals? Shaking his head Joey gave up and chose to get down to business, he would have to test it out on someone. Leaning forward on the couch Joey, opened the glass vial, a sharp scent of sweet cheese overpowered the heavy cigarette smell that caked the cramped hotel room he operated out of.

Tapping a bit of the powder out on the glass table top Joey carved the powder into a line with an obsolete sheriff’s card for food handling. ‘A little dab will do you.’ Joey remembered the instructions from the man. Fuck that, go big or go home. That was Joey’s motto. The pimp poured more onto the table top, turning the line of powder into a rail. Joey stopped himself cold as he found he was raising the card to his lips to lick off the residue. Drug users instinct…

Joey’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. The pimp’s hand went to his Walter PPK, as he rushed to the door, peering out the peephole. Sighing upon seeing who waited outside the door, he undid the latch allowing the person in. It was only Little Bo, one of his girls.

Little Bo was the first girl he took into his stable from what seemed like ancient history. Joey kept her on despite her lack of turning tricks in the last few years. Back in the day she could bring in almost two grand a night, six days a week. Divorced, and addicted to meth, she felt she had no other use than to be a prostitute. Now days, she could score a few hundred in a pair of weeks. Still, Joey kept her on as a sentiment if nothing else.

Little Bo hung her head, and Joey rolled his eyes. ‘Here comes the excuse’, Joey thought. Bo always had one, an inexhaustible plethora of circumstances that barred her from earning her keep. Little Bo began to mumble something. Scratching at her scarred arms, her ratty blonde hair looked brittle and fragile. Joey really wasn’t listening; he had heard it all before. Glancing at the table with the powder upon it; the dust seemed to beckon to be used. Half squinting the pimp mentally shrugged, why not?

Patting Bo on the shoulder, his smile was no where near sincere. “It’s ok, Bo. Hey I got something for you, a little pick me up.”

Bo wiped at her nearly jaundice yellowed eyes, as Joey guided her to sit at the couch in front of the table. Bo babbled on about how much she loved working for Joey and how good he was to her. ‘Whatever’, Joey thought. ‘Just snort the shit.’

Passing Bo a cut straw, Joey laced an arm over her shoulder. Answering the silent humiliated look she gave him, “It’s ok. It is all yours, Little Bo. I hear this is good stuff.”

Wiping her nose to clear it, Bo leaned down, placing the straw to the end of the rail, and began to inhale. She made it half way down the line of the drug before she wrenched her head back, coughing. Immediately she began to shake, cold sweat rocketing from every pore. Gasping for air, Bo’s back arched as the convulsions became more severe. Joey pushed the glass table away with his foot; users instinct once again coming into play. Preserve the drugs at all costs.

Joey winced getting off the couch with a half leap feeling as if he had been shocked. The pimp attempted to stop Bo from hurting herself, his hand grabbing for her shoulder only to receive another shock, this time stronger. Rubbing his numb hand he could only watch as Bo thrashed. What the hell was this shit!

Bo gave one last limb splayed gasp, eyes wide, and rolled off the couch face down on the floor. Joey’s heart felt as if was going to explode. Now he had a dead prostitute in his room, his headquarters, his little nook of the world. Shock leaded his movement as he gingerly crept over to Bo’s still form. Swallowing hard, Joey shook Bo gently. “Bo?” the pimp croaked, not wanting to be shocked again.

Bo was breathing in shallow rasps, much to Joey’s relief. ‘She wasn’t dead, just overdosed.’ Joey reasoned.

Carefully turning Bo over the pimp nearly leapt back again at the sight before him. Bo’s hair spilled over her shoulders, shining in the poor light of the hotel room. The prostitute’s wrinkled visage cleared up, growing taunt peeling away years of drug abuse and harsh sun exposure. Chapped lips smoothed, blemishes disappearing before Joey’s eyes. Bo took a deep breath her chest having filled out in the form of someone twenty years her junior. Seductively curved legs attached to a stunningly enticing rear greeted Joey as Bo rolled onto her side.

Bo’s eyes opened to slits, she smiled and stretched with a half hearted moan. “That was some good shit.”

Joey looked to the vial lying on its side on the glass coffee table, then back to the prostitute. “Yeah…that is some world rocking shit. How do you feel?” The pimp’s mind reeled, slowly working his way through the shock and piecing together what happened. Huge chunks were missing from the equation.

Bo tore Joey away from his thoughts; her eyes glittered with hunger as she answered. “I feel like I need to go to work. Now. Right now.”
Joey half laughed, nervously. “Uh…oh..ok..you do that.”

Bo fixed her gaze upon the pimp, clawing her way up his body as he backed into the cushions of the couch. Joey fumbled for his cellphone, pressing speed dial his eyes bulging as he felt the belt of his pants being undone. Speaking quickly into the phone, Joey stammered. “Get all the girls back to the room, I got something new for you all. Hurry and fucking hurry!”

Bo gracefully took the phone from the pimp, snapping it shut and tossing it on the floor before having her way with her employer.