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Body Parts

A young couple was walking by a California campus. They rush up to a young surfer-esque dude and Verna asks him, “Do you want a hundred dollars an hour?”

“Sure.”

“We wouldn’t want to talk you away from your classes, man.”

“I’m security – I’m in the work/study program.”

Guy takes out his pot pipe. He smiles winningly.

“Now this doesn’t involve work or study.”

“Really.”

“No, we want you to sit for us.”

“I don’t do drugs, model nor babysit,” pouts Carlo.

Verna starts to laugh. She has big red upright hair and twinkling blue eyes, wearing a green leotard and black Capri pants.

“No, all we want you to do is watch us having sex. We used to watch television when we were kids. We can’t enjoy sex unless someone is watching.” The couple smirks simultaneously.

“That’s a switch. I’m Carlo.”

Carlo, a sculptured beached blonde with the expression of a sated boar, sticks out a hairy hand. Guy shakes it.

“We were brought up on TV, and we don’t feel comfortable or sexy unless someone is looking at us.”

Verna walks toward the car. She touches the dimple in Carlo’s chin.

“Are you a voyeur, Carlo?”

“Not really. I’m not a rapist either.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ve had all kinds watching us. Haven’t we, Guy?”

Guy opens the passenger side door. He is very tall, snub-nosed with thin black eyes, wearing an oversized multicolored hat over his long ragged white hair and stands bowlegged in his khakis. Verna pulls Carlo into the car.

“The last one had to be in drag to enjoy us. Have you seen us before? We used to be in the adult film industry.”

“No, I haven’t.” Verna whispers intimately, “Until Guy realized we had to be more careful, and we are careful.”

“That’s good.”

They drive Carlo to their Beverly Hills home. Verna disrobes and offers the boy a drink. The whole apartment is surrounded with mirrors. Guy takes off his yellow bikini underwear, looks shiningly at Carlo hoping for some compliment or affirmation. Carlo has trouble keeping eye contact with either of the couple.

The couple starts to perform on an orange vinyl divan that is covered in body oil.

“We don’t mind if you do what’s natural, Carlo.” Guy reaches up and slaps him on the thigh.

Carlo takes off his shirt and there’s something that looks like a badge taped to his undershirt.

“You are arrested for soliciting.”

Verna is in a tiff. “Next you’ll tell us you’re born again. Carlo, be real.”

“He just wants a promotion. Carlo, money is no object.”

“All he is is an object, Guy.”

“Cut the small-talk. Put on your clothes and come down with me to the station.”

Guy takes out a pistol from his Rastafarian hat and shoots Carlo. Verna slides off the divan screaming. Guy shrugs his shoulders, but his facial expression is adamant.

“Intruder.”

At night they take Carlo to the local cemetery where the ground is ready for a body.


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