Chapter 5: The Devil Comes To Humper

THE DEVIL DOWN IN HUMPER

You might think you've heard about or even seen weird happenings. But until you get down here in my neck of the woods, you really don't quite know what weird is. We take pride in our weird. In fact, down here in the part of Oklahoma where I live, the weird is just every day goings-on. But there are times when it gets a little extreme, even for us.

For the last fifty or sixty years Humper County was what they called a hub of supernatural shit. After that Angel lady just about screwed old Rupe Morgan's brains—what few he had—out of him, things quieted down some. It was what they called a "brief respite." When it all started back up again, we had the devil himself come down to Humper for a visit. For a few weeks, we had a hell of a time. Literally.

Some of those supernatural events made people uncomfortable to even talk about, so the subject was never brought up very much. Take the night the devil tried to break up our Saturday night dance. Even old Reverend Billy Bob, God's right-hand man down here in Humper, got too nervous to preach sermons on what happened the night when Angel D. Vine, the horny angel lady whupped ass on Old Nick and that nasty little banker, Harold Loomis.

Wilmer Wispy took over at the bank, and it was as if Harold Loomis never even been born. The bank kept on making high interest loans to dumb people and the tellers tried to short change the depositors every way they could. It was just business as usual in a small town bank in Humper, Oklahoma. We had this period of peace and quiet for about six months, and then little things started to happen. It was that déjà vu shit started to happen all over again.

People became more short tempered, and a "good morning" was like as not to be answered with a "go fuck yourself." Glenda Jean Buttwrangler, the barmaid over at the Buck Horn Roadhouse, wasn't her usual smiley self. She threatened to piss in my beer if I didn't shut the fuck up and go home. What made that real hurtful was that I hadn't said anything to her except to ask her to pour me a pitcher. It was like that all over the county. Rupert Morgan didn't seem to be too affected by all that was bothering the rest of us. He and his little schoolteacher lady friend were somehow immune to what went on elsewhere in the county

That night after Glenda mouthed off to me, I went home and kicked my dog and he bit me in the ass. I mean, that whole part of the state was just going to shit. I apologized to my dog, and he bit me again so I said to hell with it.

Even the Vlady clan of vampires that live out east of town and run the slaughterhouse seemed real quiet. It was almost as if some kind of dark shadow was cast over the whole county. The sunshine was not cheerful bright, but sort of a gray and sullen yellow. Shadows cast by trees or anything else during the day looked downright eerie.

At night though, the shadows sometimes became solid enough to be real. It is a real scary thing when a shadow with the outline some kind of evil witch grabs you by the pecker, and you hear this real evil laughter like it was right out of a Disney cartoon. It scared the shit out of me, let me tell you. Who in hell wants to get groped by someone uglier than your great-grandma? But all that was just the beginning.

The next step was when the strangers began to show up in town. The first one was a door-to-door type who hustled wax kits. He gave one to my old lady, Louise. I don't know what else she got along with that wax kit, but I got me some ideas. Old Louise never kept her morals on too straight, even in the best of times. And, when some good-looking dude came around here hustling some unneeded product, like as not she didn't have no morals at all.

Things were pretty unsettled after she walked into the men's room at the Saturday night dance and caught Danny Walker giving me a blowjob. I haven't dared to try to get too self-righteous. Here I was, standing up leaning against the sink and Danny was down on his knees giving me a great chomp job when in came Louise.

"What in the hell are you doing there, Jerome?" she asked me in a flabbergasted tone of voice. "Are you doing queer shit?"

"Well, not exactly," I answered her as dignified as I could. "Actually, I'm just standing here and it's being done to me."

"You turning queer on me, Jerome?" she screeched. "Is that what you're doing? You turning queer?" I mean, she was giving me a fish eye that almost made my pecker go soft. But what with Danny ignoring her and me talking and keeping on with what he was doing, I stayed up. I knew I was in some kind of deep shit by then. I started to think fast.

"You answer me, you pervert. You turning into one of them gay cocksuckers?" She looked down at Danny still on his knees. "You just wait till I tell your wife, Danny." He just plain old ignored her and kept on like there was no tomorrow.

"Now, Louise, I thought it was you here in the dark giving me a blow job. You don't think I would be letting just anybody chew on me like this?" It's hard to think up excuses when you're getting your cock sucked.

"The lights ain't off, Jerome," she reminded me. "It's bright as day in here. Besides, what would I be doing in the men's room here at the Center? That shit just don't fly. I would have no business coming in the men's' room."

"Well, you're in here now," I told her. "Or did you get confused in the dark too?" There, I figured I had her with that one. Not even close.

"I came in here to go pee, Jerome. The ladies room has a waiting line in front of it and I can't wait. It sure as hell don't look to me like you can exactly say the same."

"Well, go pee, damn it!" I yelled at her. "Don't bother me. Can't you see I'm busy?" Just then Danny gave a little extra slurp and that was all she wrote. I moaned and came. She couldn't hold it any more so she went in a stall and left the door open so she could see me while she nagged. She started to pee and kept on bitching at me all the while.

Danny got up off his knees and wiped his mouth. "With all the talking in here distracting me, I'm going elsewhere." He left in a huff, and Louise finished up and started in on me again. That woman just wouldn't let up.

"Now, what is this shit about you getting your cock sucked in the dark and you thought it was me?" She was building up a real head of steam in her boiler.

"Well, when you opened the door so hard it must have jarred something and made the lights go back on. It was sure dark until you came blasting in here and disrupting my nervous system."

"You silly fuck, your eyes was closed. That's why it was so dark in here," She shook her head in exasperation. "Zip up, and let's get out of here before I kill you just to put you out of your misery."

"Oh shit!" I screamed as I started to do as she said.

"I married the dumbest man in Humper County," she bitched at me. "You first put your dick back in your pants and then you zip up."

"Help me," I moaned. "I got my foreskin caught in the zipper."

"You ain't got any foreskin. You been circumscribed," she reminded me.

"Look, just help me get unzipped," I moaned. "I'm in a world of pain here."

"God, you men are just so helpless." She bent over, grabbed my Willy Clinton in one hand, the zipper in the other and yanked.

"Sweet Jesus!" I screamed and almost passed out.

"Poor baby," she said. "Let me kiss it where it hurts."

"It hurts all over," I told her hopefully.

"That's what I thought," she said and took it all into her mouth.

I forgot the pain and started to get hard as soon as she began to suck. The next thing I knew we had an audience. My screams of pain had been heard out on the dance floor and half dozen guys came to see what all the noise was about. Being ignorant and impolite Okies, they just stood and stared. As soon as I was done, she stood up and saw all the guys staring at us.

"You boys go on about your business. My husband Jerome got caught in a zipper and I helped him get loose." I don't think anything can flap my unflappable wife.

We headed to the bar set up in the far corner of the Center and had a couple of drinks. "You know, Louise, you give better head than Danny Walker, you know that?"

"I've heard that said before," she told me with a smirky smile on her face. I decided not to press it too hard. I figured I better just let the whole matter lapse. You know, it wasn't until later I thought of how weird it was for Louise to be giving blow jobs and hanging out in the men's room of the Community Center.

Anyway, that's how it started at my house.

The next day Louise decided to have some revenge on me. I think she made that decision when this good-looking guy came to the door hustling wax kits. What she got was twenty minutes of revenge, and a day and night of misery.

It was Sunday morning, and I had to go down and open the feed store up. The boss likes to go to church so I open up, and he relieves me after the services are over. While I was at work, a handsome stranger rang my doorbell.

He took one look at Louise when she answered the door wearing nothing but her housecoat and smiled a big, old lecherous smile. "By Satan, you got to be the finest looking lady I have run into this beautiful morning."

"Can the bullshit and state your business," she told him, actually liking the sweet line of con he was talking. If she hadn't liked it, she would have grabbed him by the nuts and tried to rip them off.

"Fair lady, I have free samples of Doctor Stein's wax system of hair removal. Now you know how smart those Jew boys are." He gave her another blinding display of grinning teeth.

"Yeah, I heard tell they got brains," she allowed. "Go on with your pitch."

"Well, my company has purchased all the rights to Doctor Stein's patented wax hair removal system. And here in Humper, I am giving out a limited number of them to attractive housewives such as you. There is no charge. You merely try the hair removal system out in the privacy of your own home, and report back to us of how well you like it."

"Who pays the postage?" she asked, trying as usual to milk every bit of the good out of any deal she did.

"Why, we do, of course, dear lady." It seemed, from what I heard, that smooth talking dude gave all new meaning to the word "oily." He smiled as sincere as a TV evangelist and continued, "If you would like, I will even help you with the first application of the remover. You tell me where you would like the hair taken away and with my willing help, it shall be gone."

Louise grinned like a fox in a henhouse and said, "Where I want that hair removed is way up high on my inner thigh." With that she threw open her housecoat and showed him her not too well-trimmed bush.

He smiled and led her into the bathroom. He placed one small strip of wax on one edge of her pussy and zip the narrow strip of hair was gone. An hour later, he walked out of the bedroom and went on to his next call. Louise went back into the bathroom to finish removing the unwanted hair that she didn't know was unwanted before that fast-tongued glib talking son-of-a-bitch come around when I wasn't home.

Now according to that stranger, his was a cold wax system. There was no melting of hot wax and pouring it on your leg or whatever. All you did was to rub two wax strips together until they got warm and soft, and applied them to whatever needed hair removed.

Louise has one real big problem. She just can't follow directions on anything, ever. This time, she read the directions and decided if rubbing the two strips together to get them warm was good, she'd go for great. She got out that heavy duty hair dryer, warmed the hell out of the strip, placed it on the side of her leg and pressed just like it said to. Then she jerked the strip free. She felt the rip feeling as the strip was pulled away and figured she was home free. The hair was all gone, and it didn't hurt hardly at all.

Since she had always wanted a bare mound but hated the idea of using a razor, she started on her pussy next. She laid an extra long strip along one side of her pussy, all the way back almost to her butt hole. She pressed that thing as tight as she could and applied the hair dryer to it. Then she waited a moment and grabbed that strip and pulled hard. She screamed as the pain blinded her. It was so intense she lost her balance and fell to the floor.

She got back up, placed one foot up on the toilet, bent forward and looked down. Only part of the strip came loose. It had torn in half. I wish I had been there with my camera and got a picture of her, naked, standing with one foot on the john. That picture would have livened up our family reunions for years and years to come. When I told her that, she didn't think it was funny at all and slapped me in the face with an iron skillet to make her point.

Anyway, she prepared herself mentally for the pain she knew was coming. She grabbed hold of that other strip and jerked like hell one more time. She was still numb enough down there so it didn't bring her to her knees, but her eyes still were watering from her ordeal. She decided to check out her efforts. She grabbed up the two halves of the pussy strip and looked. There was not one hair on that wax strip, not on either half. Not only that but there was no wax on the strip either. "Shit!" she yelled.

Then she went looking for the wax. Since her right foot was still up on the toilet she bent back over and looked. She was still covered with hair down there. She felt to see if the hair was even a little bit loose and found out where the wax went. Her hair was matted with it. "Shit!" she yelled again. She took her foot down off the toilet and made her next discovery.

Her pussy was sealed shut as tight as a Baptist preacher's mind. I mean, her lips were sealed. She checked and found her butt in the same condition. Even her upper thighs were stuck together. She waddled around in circles trying to figure out what to do next. Then the unthinkable got thought. Her bladder has always been on the small side. That's why she went into the men's room at the dance when the women's room was preoccupied. When she has to go she has to go. "Shit!" she yelled again, "What else can happen?"

What else was that all at once her guts got to gurgling. Then she had another of her inspirations. Since heating that wax got her in the predicament she was in, she decided that heating it all at the same time would get her out.

She ran a tub of water hot enough to boil eggs in. She slowly sat herself in the water and felt the puckered feeling leave her pussy as she slowly pulled the skin on her thighs apart. She was about two inches away from being boiled alive, but at least she wouldn't die with her lips sealed.

"Oh yes!" she yelled. Her guts churned and a big fart broke out of the water. She figure that meant she was now home free since her asshole was clear too. What she found out did not make her happy. The wax softened enough for her to open her two entrances of fun, but that was all. The hot water had softened the wax until it migrated on down. Her ass was stuck so tight, you would have sworn she and that tub had been surgically joined somehow.

We had a cordless phone extension installed in the bathroom. She used the bath brush to flip it out of its cradle, and dragged it across the floor to her after it fell on the bath mat. She called me and I got my first hint about what she had been going through. I was playing checkers with one of the hangers on who came around every Sunday just to bullshit and share a six-pack or so with me.

The phone rang. "Feed store," I said as I picked it up, trying to figure out how to save my king.

"Jerome, this is Louise," she told me.

"I kind of figured it was you when I heard your voice. I never heard of any Louise imitators around these parts," I told her.

"Just shut the hell up, and listen to me instead of sounding off like the asshole you are. Just shut up!" she screamed.

I didn't say anything.

"Jerome, are you there?" she asked in a whiny voice.

"Yes, Louise, I am still here," I told her in a real patient sounding voice.

"Well, why aren't you saying anything? Why aren't you talking?" she demanded.

"You told me to shut up and I did." I made a move and lost my king.

"You may talk now," she told me.

"Okay," I said and didn't say anything further.

After a while she asked, "Well? Why aren't you talking?"

"I don't have anything to say," I told her.

She didn't say anything for a minute and then she said, "I'm in trouble."

"Okay, I'll bite," I told her. "What kind of trouble are you in?" I figured it was something simple like a rat ran across the floor or she had a flat tire.

"My butt is glued to the bottom of the bath tub, and the water in the tub is almost at the boiling point. What should I do?" She was so hysterical she sounded calm.

"Well, to start with, drain the hot water out of the tub. Then it won't boil you any more." That sounded like very good advice to me.

There was a pause and she came back on, "Okay, I am draining the water out of the tub. What do I do next?"

"You just wait there. The boss left his video camera here. I am going to take it and come home right now and get a record of this. Nobody will believe me otherwise." I hung up and went back to my checker game.

About ten minutes later the phone rang again. "Feed store," I said.

"You were joking about that camera, weren't you?" she asked in an accusing tone of voice.

"Yep, I was joking, but you're not in the tub any more, are you?" I asked. I figured Louise would understand the shock tactics I was using to get her loose from the tub.

"Jerome, right now I feel like I left all the skin on my ass stuck to that tub with that damned wax. You scared me so bad I literally ripped myself loose from the wax I had holding me down. You are a mean and cruel man."

"My only other solution would have been to call the fire department. You surely wouldn't want that, would you?" I asked.

"Well, not unless they were real cute." I didn't know if she was joking or not.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Louise? If there isn't I have to hang up, things are pretty busy right now." I asked her.

"I guess not, Jerome," she answered me. "The way my hind end feels right now after you shocked me into pulling loose from the tub, I don't know if I would survive any more of your help.

"Okay then, I better hang up and get busy. Bye." I put the phone back in its cradle and went back to my checker game.

After the boss came in at two o'clock in the afternoon to relieve me, I went on home to what I thought would be a fine afternoon of watching Sunday football on the television. What I got was a sight I would never wish on anybody ever. I opened the front door and was greeted by the sight of Louise face down on the floor. Her bare ass stuck up in the air. Both cheeks were a bright red and her inner thighs looked like someone had splashed them with red paint. She had our spare room air conditioner down on the floor aimed up between her two legs right at her flaming red butt.

"Holy shit, Louise, you don't look so good. What happened? You stay right there and let me get the camera."

The poor woman was so miserable she didn't care. "Oh god, Jerome, I don't care what you do so long as you go get the bag of ice cubes out of the freezer and apply 'em to my behind. I hurt!" she wailed.

"Well hell, this must be serious. Let me get the aloe lotion and the burn ointment. I'll be right back."

I brought the big bottle of aloe lotion out of the medicine chest and applied it to her skin, all over the reddened area. "Oh yes," she cooed, "Oh yes, that feels so good."

I moved the little air conditioning unit out from between her legs and applied the aloe everywhere I saw any redness. That aloe is great stuff. I got the little air mattress out of the hall closet I use when I go hunting. I put it on the floor and told her to lie face down on it. She went to sleep all belly down and naked on that air mattress. I applied a little more lotion just for good measure. Then I went over to the TV, and turned it on so I could watch football.

That evening, Louise ate the pizza I ordered standing up. As soon as she finished off a couple of slices, she went right back to the air mattress and plopped back down on her belly. I slept alone that night.

Now what happened to make her all red and sunburned looking was she decided to get rid of the wax. There was a little bottle that came with the hair removal kit. It was to remove the excess wax. There was just barely enough to remove the wax from part of her pussy. She tried to experiment a little and find something to get it off the rest of her. She remembered I had a little acetone I used to remove wax coatings from some gun parts and got it out. She said it stung a little but didn't do a very good job either.

Next, she checked around some more and suddenly remembered the floor wax remover. Now here is where her reasoning gets a little shaky. All she knew was that the directions on the can said, "Always wear rubber gloves when using this product." So she did. She mixed up a gallon and followed the directions for the extra strong mix. I don't think they had pussies and asses in mind when they wrote those directions. Well, her fine mind told her that since she wore gloves she was protected. After all, she followed the printed directions on the can.

She told me, "It said the stuff was bad for hands. It didn't say anything about it burning your skin if you applied it anywhere else."

"Louise, if it is dangerous to put your hands in it, doesn't it make sense it was bad for the rest of your body?" I felt like I was reasoning with a pet rock or a cow pie.

"Well, if they didn't mean for it to be used elsewhere, they should say so." She sniffed and continued, "Besides, I had to get that wax off of me. How would it be if people knew I had my backside and my pussy both covered with wax?"

"Louise, honey pot, how would anyone know you had a waxy butt unless you showed them?" To me, it was obvious. I figure it was just like the time old slick Willy said when he was president of the whole United States of Oklahoma—don't ask and don't tell. Of course, if I was in the army and wanted a blowjob, how would I know the dude was inclined that way unless I asked him?

"Jerome, don't you understand anything about women?" she asked me in an exasperated voice. "I'd know I had a waxy bottom."

I gave up.

The next day, stories started to filter in from all over the county about wax accidents. Wilmer Wispy's oldest daughter, Gladys, the rat-faced one, went into the emergency room with her vibrator stuck to her crotch. She claimed she was just killing time when the hair remover failed. The friction warmed the wax up and it worked just like crazy glue. She wasn't the least bit embarrassed, just pissed when the batteries ran down too soon.

Leonard Redman brought his wife and their maid in to be separated. It seems the two women were applying the wax to each other, or so they claimed. Leonard had wax on both hands. He claimed he was trying to help the two women get separated and that was why he ended up with hairy palms. The maid's hair was black and his wife's hair was red. He had nothing but red hair on one hand and black hair on the other. Some of us figured he was applying the wax to them also. He got kidded about that, let me tell you.