Dead Nolte Read Online Free PDF Page B

of your gut, is that what’s working?”
    “You should have seen that motherfucker this morning, he was
eighty years old.” The crazy hooker said as she moved next to Nolte. “He start
suckin’ at that baby at the crack of dawn. He’ll be done in a few more hours.
The younger he get , the faster he can suck it up.”
    Nolte’s eyes darted back to the baby, to look for stitches.
There was no way this was real, he was born at night, but… “What in the fuck do
you mean, he’s suckin’ it up?”
    “He’s absorbin’ the youth of the young’un, maybe you should
do this.” The hooker smiled. “Then you get hard ones a cat can’t scratch, yes?”
    Had Nolte, any sense of decency, her nonchalant attitude,
concerning his cock and the death of a child, would have appalled him, instead,
his high hopes were back. A chill ran up his spine, this is the stuff dreams
were made of.
    Nolte ignored her, the sight before him had him sickly
amazed. He couldn’t take his eyes off of what was happening. It was like a car
crash with multiple fatalities strewn about; something deep inside you made you
look and kept you looking.
    He had seen his first kid being born, and had decided the
so-called ‘miracle of life’ wasn’t all that miraculous, but this shit was
amazing…a real miracle of life.
    Over the next four and a half hours, Nolte watched the
unholy spectacle, as intently as a copperhead might watch a drunken mouse
stumble by. Inch by inch, the fat banker’s pus-gut slowly devoured the baby.
The hooker having gotten bored and annoyed at the lack of attention she was
receiving, left after half an hour claiming she’d seen the process too many
times to feign interest in it again. She informed everyone, as she excused
herself, that her pussy wasn’t going to sell itself.
    The normality of the ordeal and the casual familiarity of
the ‘attendants’ actions inspired Nolte, professionalism might have come to
mind, had the room not been filthy and reeking of piss.
    The two worked on the man cheerfully, dapping at sweat and
periodically giving him sips of water from a sticky looking glass (that Nolte
wouldn’t consider using to wash his scrotum), with no apparent empathy for the
baby, who was now, nothing more than two small feet protruding from the fat
banker, who was more flabby , than fat at this point.
Nolte had thought about asking where the kid came from but realized he probably
didn’t really want to know. However, he did ask the fat man what he did for a
living.
    “Exotic cars.” He said, instinctively reaching for a
business card, too late to remember he was naked. He played it off by
scratching his nipple. So much for the foreclosure theory, Nolte thought.
    As the soles of the baby’s feet faded and the soul of the
baby was recycled, a young man’s face sat atop stretched slabs of skin layered
like unspooled bolts of white man fabric. The car salesman, who resembled a
banker, looked years younger than he had when Nolte had first entered the room.
He now looked to be in his early thirties, though his skin hung off his frame
like wet towels draped over a clothesline, he no longer looked sickly. There
were fresh wisps of blonde hair in scattered patches around his head. His face,
except for some light stubble, was as smooth as the baby’s butt; he had just
sucked into his stomach. If the man had any remorse for the child’s life he had
just robbed, the youthful smile on his face betrayed it.
    “I feel like a million bucks.”
    “You sit tight, pretty Boss, Doc be here tomorrow to take
you in, a notch. Right now, you look like you wearin’ a parachute.”
      “Hey ladies, what
else can this witch do?” The two women stopped washing the man in the chair and
looked up at Nolte; both wore the same big grin.
    “What do you need, Sugar?”
    “I need a life insurance policy.”

3
    A lice
loved day drinking, morning drinking to put a finer point on it. She liked to get
a few in her and get the warmth flowing