The Money We Owe and Borrow (5) (Do I keep Changing the Title?)

“You did not deliver the cameras I paid for.  You took fifteen thousand dollars from me.  That’s a Pharaoh Girl’s starting salary.  So, since you stole that, I had to fire my newest girl.  Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“I’m sorry Tut. I know I cheated you, but I can pay it back.”
“Words mean nothing coming from your mouth.  Do you know about the Pharaoh in my backyard?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it in magazines.”
“Your friend is sitting on top of it with a noose tied around his neck.  If you don’t give me my money in 24 hours, he’ll hang from it.  So, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.  I’ll be here.  I swear.”
“Good.  Now, give me back my blindfold.”

I removed my vision-impairing device, and my eyes immediately looked down to see a beautiful naked brunette lying on the ground, that I assumed had been Tiffany.  Tut was to my right wearing a gold robe and crown, and I was wearing a pair of boxer shorts that said “Born Loser” on the front I hadn’t remembered owning, and later, upon further examination of the rear of the shorts, it read “And a Small Dick to Boot!”

Well, regardless of all that, I was in the Ring of Pleasure because surrounding me, in a great wide circle, was a flock of naked porn stars.  All incredibly sexy and naked.   It was my heaven.

“Girls! Show Johnathan out!”  Tut commanded as I then, proceeded to receive one of the most brutal ass-whippings of my life.  I was gang beaten by a crowd of B-movie stars, kicking and clawing and stomping me into unconsciousness.  It was the most wonderfully painful experience of my life.

I awoke the next morning in a dumpster.  I still had those lovely boxers on, but I was lying on wet, stinky trash.  I sat up to get out and a bag of what I assumed to be rotten cabbage was hurled inside the dumpster, landing directly on my facial area.  It knocked me back on my ass, and forced me to sit on it for a couple minutes while I pondered where tha fit into the most disgusting and embarrassing category of my life, which was growing by the hour.  Tommy was in serious trouble and I had to find $15,000 dollars to save his life.  But, there were a number of obstacles in the way of that. For example, I didn’t have a dollar to my name, I didn’t have a home, a car, any clothes except my new boxers and I didn’t have a clue where I was.  I thought that should be my first step.  So, again, I exited the dumpster, this time successfully, and looked at my surroundings.  I couldn’t be far from Jersey, but once I made it out of the alley and into the street, I realized I was in Times Square in New York City.

Present day….

So, those were the four things I remembered that could have lead me to end up in the desert, with a dying girlfriend; but at least I had my car back.  I had to try it again.  We’d been through too much together.  I turned the key again and this time, it started.  It actually started, regardless of the probable sand in the engine; a magic spark must have caught in the ignition, or maybe God was throwing a little good luck my way.  Pity can be a blessing sometimes.  I put it in drive and peeled out in a huge donut and pushed the gas as hard as my foot would allow and as far as the floorboard would. We kicked up as much sand as a tornado would and before long I could barely tell where I was going; the only direction I knew was straight ahead.  She started stirring in the back seat, groaning and rubbin her juicy forehead.

“Is it over?” she asked groggily.
“No,” I replied between trying to see my path and answer her, ” I think it’s just begun.”
“Where’s my gun?” she asked.
“I think….” and my memory flashed back to us at the hotel, fooling around and out it fell from her stockings.
“I have it.  Here , in the glovebox.  You know, I never did ask why such a hot tamale like yourself is packing heat in her stocking?”
“Wow, you still haven’t figured it out yet.”
That hurt a little.  The insulting remark triggered our night together , the 12 hours and change prior to our current situation.



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