Bumstead's LamentMature

Bumstead looked at the young corpse for one last time before spitting into the gutter,  It was his first night out with Hesselbeck.  All reports told of him as a maverick, a cowboy and a real prankster. 

"Bah", he said, chewing the end off a guitar he pulled from the breast pocket inside his beige trenchcoat, "Seen one, ya seen them all"

"You got that right, chief", said Hesselbeck, mimicking a cartoon character.

"You see, Hesselbeck, you think you can laugh it all off, but you're just a young punk rookie with too much gum to chew and not enough teeth to chew it"

Bumstead lit the cigar and looked headlong into the torrent of biting rain as they walked towards the car.

"Hesselbeck, you live this life, you're gonna wind up with an air conditioner full of regrets and no freon left to recharge, if you follow me."

Hesselback, his face buried in his Italian leather jacket poked his head out long enough to answer.

"Chief, if I was you, I'd just be glad my first name wasn't Dagwood", but he could barely finish his sentence from laughter.

Bumstead knew how to deal with wiseacres like Hesselbeck,  In fact, he had once been one. 

But there was a scream in the distance

The End

37 comments about this story Feed