General Fiction posted May 1, 2017

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A Storm approaches

Another Kind of Storm

by frogbook

Well, a storm was approaching all right. But it wasn't a storm thought up by mother nature. Oh no, this was a storm called Mary Beth Higgins, all five foot of her. She had just got wind that Hank Higgins, that bastard of a husband of hers, had been doin' a little shackin' up with that little tramp, Candy Jean Mason. Well, she was about to show them what kind of tornado a wife could cause.


Candy Jean Mason chewed her gum in an exaggerated parody of a cow chewin' it's cud. She languished in a padded chair at the Paris Salon, getting' her two-inch-long nails painted an eye-popping crimson to match the lipstick she sported on her overly plumped lips.

"Maria, you know I don't like when you file so hard, it makes my teeth ache to hear that sound."

Lola Bradbury overheard as she was doing Mrs. Pumpernickel's purple-gray hair. "I'd like to punch that little, bitch in the mouth. Now, that would make her teeth ache!"

Mrs. P. agreed shakin' her head vigorously, "Oh my yes, that little tart has slept with every man in town. In my day we woulda' called her, 'used goods'."

"Oh, my gosh, Mrs. P. You can't shake your head while I am cuttin' your hair. Now look what has happened. I'm gonna have to cut it shorter!"

"Good grief, I'm gonna look like a curly-headed old man, it will be so short," Mrs. P. cried. "Dammit it's all that Candy Jean's fault!"

Lola shook her head in agreement.

Meanwhile, Candy Jean, oblivious, to her 'nonfan club', was through with her manicure. After sitting for a full twenty minutes blowin' on her nails, while the next customer waited for the chair, she rose in a sultry, practiced move, exposing her leg with the twelve-inch slit in her skirt. Marla Madison's husband waiting for the wife to finish her perm, nearly fell off the edge of his chair.

Marla and Katie, her hair stylist, both shot him a look that withered any further intentions he might have. He thrust his head into a newspaper and didn't lift it again until Marla was through.

Candy jean took hold of her coat, a long white imitation fur, and struck a pose in front of the mirror after she had it on. She held her nails up near her lips for several minutes before turning to Maria, and tossing a handful of change for a tip.

"They really aren't a perfect match. Hopefully, you can do better next time, or perhaps Nelly will be in so she can instruct you."

Maria's face turned a crimson that was sure to be a match to the nails, then raked the change into her drawer, as Candy sashayed through the door.

A whispered word spoken by Maria was in Spanish, but everyone got the meaning.


Hank Higgins was workin' on a 1958 Plymouth Fury, like the one in Stephen King's 'Christine'. It was his baby. Business in the garage was slow. He wanted to get his car finished, but he would rather someone else's car be on the lift, because money would get tight if he kept up this pace. Just then he heard car tires screech on the pavement outside.

"Oh, no, I hope it's not that pest, Candy Jean," he thought.

He was surprised when he was nearly whisked off his feet by his own wife, Mary Beth.

"Hey Honey, what a surprise. Business is really slow."

He suddenly found himself with his butt in a full oil pan.

Mary Beth's face was a quarter inch from his, "Yeah, well I hear business is pretty good for you...monkey business that is!"

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Oh, I think you know just what I mean. I know you been getting' yourself some 'Candy' lately."

"And this is about poor dietary choices?" Hank said getting up gingerly, dripping a trail of oil from the back of his coveralls.

A hub cap flew like a frisbee past Hank's head. Suddenly he knew just what Mary Beth was talkin' about. That damn Georgia Sue from the diner, and she was his 3rd cousin too. She had promised not to say a thing.

"Now, Mary Beth, I know I should have told you..."

"Don't you Mary Beth me, I want a divorce and I'm gonna pull every bleach blonde hair out of that tramp's head."

"Hold on a minute! I don't know what you heard, but I had breakfast with Candy so that we could discuss a contract to work on her business cars. I didn't want to go with her, but she insisted and you know we could use the business. Then she keeps callin' and has been comin' down here every once in a while, but There is nothin' goin' on, I swear. What would she want with a greasy mechanic, anyhow?"

"The same thing she wants from Harold, the math teacher at the elementary school and Billy Joe the bartender and every other walkin' penis she has her eyes on, that's what!"

"Mary Beth, I have never heard you talk so."

"Well, this time that little tart has gone too far. And, believe me, I thought you were made outta better material than this."

"Look, honey, this is out of hand. What makes you think that anything else happened?"

"Cuz it's all over town, you spendin' the night with her and bein' bold enough to flaunt it havin' breakfast in front of the whole town." Now Mary Beth was cryin' hard.

"Listen, Honey," Hank said, "You know, I love you. Why would I need anyone else, let alone that passed around toy?"

'I...I...don't know. I don't know at all", she sobbed.

He dared to put an arm around her and she only struggled a little before allowing it.

"Listen, just give me a chance to prove to you that this is not true. Go back home and relax, I will call you every hour from the shop phone so you know I'm here."

"Well, it better be alone, because I know what can happen on the hood of a car when the garage door is locked." She looked at him through still teary eyes and then they both laughed a little.

As she left, she turned and said, "I'm still gonna get that little Jezebel!"

He knew she meant it. He turned to go back into the garage and thought, 'Wow, that woman would be better off, havin this 'Christine' car come alive and go after her.'


Candy was irritated that, that little nothing of a mechanic had rejected her, so when she heard the little wife was told differently, she threw back her head and laughed. It was revenge for the stupid grease monkey. Now his wife would be out to get him anyway.

She dressed in a short mini shirt and a midriff blouse and caked on her makeup. She called out to the butler for her coat and climbed into the car, accidently, on purpose flashed a bit of leg to the chauffer. Who knew when she might want a little action and he did have the prettiest blue eyes.

She was off to get her hair styled and then just to be adventurous she was planning on visiting a piercing and tattoo parlor that had opened up in Mayville, the closest town to this stupid burg she was forced to live in because her husband wanted to be close to the factory.
The Mayor gave her a wave and a 'call me' signal when her limo passed him. That old fool was good for some extra cash when she needed it, but he was oh-so boring. She passed a couple more of her conquests on the way out of town. They stared at the car with longing, but she was in no mood for those two. When she passed the mechanic shop, she opened her window and waved at Hank. She'd win him over yet. That's what it was really about,...the conquest and capture. She didn't need the money or the sappy dates.

She could feel the barely concealed dislike at the beauty shop, as always, but no one dared cross her. This time she did think her hair looked particularly lovely so she left the girl a $2.00 tip.

She was pleased when she arrived at the tattoo shop and saw the man that would be doing the ink. He was a well-muscled, tall, dark haired man wearing the typical sleeveless tank and a leather vest. She thought, 'I'll be getting this tattoo free.' A laugh escaped.

The man smiled and said, "Well you seem to be in a good mood. Have a tat you might be interested in? Or maybe a piercing in that sweet little belly button?"

She answered in a sultry voice, "I hadn't thought of the piercing. Would you be doing that?"

"I sure would," he answered eagerly.

"Well then let's do that first, but I have this tattoo, I found that I want."

She showed him a picture of a sultry woman, licking her lips, and bending forward to show bulging breasts, proffering a drink, and saying, 'How 'bout a swig?'

"Well, that is a sexy one," the man said, brushing against her.

She smiled and said, "Should I take my shirt off?"

"I think you will have to," he replied.

The piercing went well. The man who said his name was, 'Mack', did some extra washing ALL around the area of the navel with some delightful strokes along the groin. He inserted a small ring with diamonds that she picked out and she stood admiring herself.

He said, "We'll go into this back room for the tattoo so you'll have some privacy."

"Shall I take off my shirt now," she asked?

"Yes, please," he said and laughed.

She removed the top to reveal magnificent, firm breasts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wear a bra. I didn't know I would need to disrobe."

"Well, I'm not sorry" the man said eyes transfixed.

She barely felt pain with the procedure as Mack ran his strong hands all over her back in between the different colors of ink. It was over before she knew it. Now she felt a bit of burn in the area and it seemed to be a larger area than she thought it would be.

"Now that's a little sore," she said.

"Here's some ointment you can keep it moist with," he said rubbing it on. "Should feel better in a few days and will look great in a week. Just keep the dressing on, don't remove it at all until Saturday. If you have any trouble come on back in," he said rubbing against her.

"I may just do that," she said, smiling.

It was hard not to look at the tattoo, she was so excited to see it, but Lord knows she didn't want it to scar or do something to the ink. So she kept the dressing on faithfully. Saturday was coming fast anyway. It was the biggest day of the year for this rotten little town. It was the 'Cherry Festival.' It even attracted a lot of visitors from out of town. Maybe she could find herself a real man.

She had a flaming red mini skirt for the occasion. It hugged her body so tightly one wondered how she could breath. The matching blouse was a halter so her whole back would be exposed, (as well as a healthy serving of breast on either side, in addition to the front cleavage.)

She called Mack and he assured her that the tattoo would be healed and not red at all, as long as, the dressing was in place. She had formulated a plan that it would be revealed at the Festival. And she knew just who she would ask to take the dressing off.

Saturday arrived and the whole town turned out for the festival. Marybeth was still giving Hank the cold shoulder, but he thought she might be coming around. They arrived at the festival where the whole town wore their finest red creations, a few white dresses adorned with cherries throughout.

It wasn't long before Mary Beth made a disgusted face and let out an equally disgusted sound. There came that tramp, Candy Jean, lookin' like someone had wrapped her tight as a mummy, only in red. Why, she could hardly walk because she couldn't move her legs. Even her blond hair had been dyed a bright red and put up in a big round hairdo like a cherry with 2 green leaves at the top. Even the other women couldn't help but be a little impressed. She wore a furry red jacket that Mary Beth hoped would roast the little witch.

By the time she reached Mary Beth and Hank, Mary Beth's eyes looked the color of a storm cloud, ready to burst. She thought the hussy's hips must hurt from jerking them back and forth so, but the storm really broke loose when she walked up to Hank, did a feigned little trip and fell against him, leaving him no choice but to grab hold of her.

Mary Beth started forward like a cyclone. Her friend Trisha May tried to grab her but there was no use. Just in time Hank recovered and was able to grab Mary Beth's arm. He held tight as she tried to get to Candy Jean.

"Oh, Mary Beth," Candy said in a syrupy voice. "You are just who I wanted to see. Aren't you one of those little nurse's aides or something?"

"I am a Registered Nurse," Mary Beth spat back.

"Well, I shore am glad because I need some medical help," Candy Jean, said to Mary Beth.

"Like what?" Mary Beth said, a bit taken aback.

"Well, I need you to help me with this dressing. I can't get it off, because it's on my back."

"Somebody stab ya?" Mary Beth said, under her breath.

"What was that?" Candy said.

Hank looked at Mary Beth, as if to say, 'Just do it."

"Um, I said, I'll take a stab at it," Mary Beth said.

Candy let her fur coat slip over her creamy shoulders to reveal the large expanse of skin, exposed by the halter top. There was a good-sized bandage on her back. Mary Beth's first instinct was to rip it off, as hard as she could, but, instead, she said, "Let me get my kit out of the car and we can take it off."

She had meant to be mean, but her nurse instincts kicked in, instead and she was curious to see what was wrong with the woman.

When she removed the dressing, she covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. Surely there had been a mistake.

"What's funny, that's the sexiest tattoo you've seen."

"Well, I wouldn't call it that," Mary Beth chuckled.

"A beautiful sexy woman, saying, 'Want a swig? You're just jealous," Candy said with disgust.

Now Mary Beth laughed out loud. "I think there's been a mistake."

One after another of the townsfolk leaned in for a look and began to guffaw.

Candy Jean managed to find a hand mirror and ran into the bathroom to hold it and look in the bigger mirror. There was a huge fat pig, saying, "Yes, I'm a pig."

That's when the storm started. Candy Jean screamed at the top of her lungs, threatening the town and everyone in it. She hurried to put her coat back on and dropped it in the mud. She tripped and one of her stiletto heels snapped off, and she tried to walk with one on and one off. Mary Beth and friends were slapping their knees and laughing. Even the mayor couldn't hold back a cackle.

Hank turned to his cousin and handed him five crisp hundred dollar bills. "Was worth every penny, Mack. Now you better head outta state pronto."

Storm Approaches writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a short story where a storm is approaching. Minimum length 700 words. Maximum Length 4,000 words.

I have to say I did this in a bit of a rush-so busy lately but what can I say. More than happy to hear any constructive corrections.
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