Charles Bukowski - Short Stories Collection Part 21

"guess."

Von Brashlitz and his f.u.c.k MACHINE are upstairs at your place right now."

"uh huh," said Tony.

"how much?"

"twenty bucks a piece."

"20 bucks to f.u.c.k a machine?"

"he's outdone whatever Created us. you'll see."

"Petey the Owl will blow me for a buck."

"Petey the Owl is o.k. but he ain't no invention that beats the G.o.ds."

I shoved over my 20.

"so help me, Tony, if this is some crazy kind of hot-weather gag, you've lost your best customer!"

"like you said earlier, we're all crazy anyhow. It's up to you."

"right," I said.

"I only get 50 percent, ya gotta understand. the rest goes to Von Brashlitz. 500 buck pension ain't much with inflation and taxes, and Von B. drinks schnapps like crazy."

"let's make it," I said, "you've got 40 bucks. where's this immortal f.u.c.k MACHINE?"

Tony lifted a part.i.tion of the bar, said, "come through here.

take the stairway to the back rear, just go up there, knock, say, *Tony sent us'."

"any door #?"

"door #69."

"oh, h.e.l.l yes," I said, "what else?"

we found the stairway. walked up. "Tony will do anything for a gag," I said.

we walked along, there it was: door #69.

I knocked: "Tony sent us."

"ah, do come in, gentleman!"

here was this old h.o.r.n.y-looking freak, gla.s.s of schnapps in his hand, double-lensed gla.s.ses. just like the old-timed movies. he appeared to be having a visitor, a young thing, almost too young, looking flimsy and strong at the same time.

she crossed her legs, flashing all the bit: nylon knees, nylon thighs, and just that tiny part there where the long stockings ended and just that touch of flesh began. she was all a.s.s and breast, nylon legs, clean blue laughing eyes- "gentleman, a"my daughter, Tanya-"

"what?"

"ah, yes, I know, I am so-old- but like the myth of the black man with the ever-huge c.o.c.k, there is also the myth of dirty old Germans who never stop f.u.c.king, you may believe what you wish to. this is my daughter, Tanya, anyhow-"

"h.e.l.lo, boys," she laughed.

then we all looked toward the door which was labeled: f.u.c.k MACHINE STORAGE ROOM.

he finished off his schnapps.

"and so-you boys came over for the best f.u.c.k ever, ya?"

"Daddy!" said Tanya, "must you always be so crude?"

Tanya recrossed her legs, higher this time, and I almost came.

then the professor finished another schnapps, then got up and walked over to the door labeled f.u.c.k MACHINE STORAGE ROOM. he turned and smiled at us, then very slowly opened the door. he walked on in and came out rolling this thing on what looked like a hospital bed on wheels.

it was NAKED, a clod of metal.

the prof rolled the d.a.m.n thing right out in front of us, then began humming some rotten song, probably something from the German.

a clod of metal with this hole in the center. the professor had an oil can in his hand, poked it into the hole and began punching in quite a quant.i.ty of this oil, meanwhile humming this insane German song.

he kept punching the oil in, then looked back over his shoulder and said, "nice, ya?" then he went back to work, pumping in the oil.

Indian Mike looked at me, tried to laugh, said, "G.o.d d.a.m.na"

we've been taken again!"

"yeah." I said, "it seems like it's been 5 years since I been laid, but I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'll stick my c.o.c.k into that mound of hard lead!"

Von Brashlitz laughed. walked over to his liquor cabinet, found another 5th. of schnapps, poured a goody, sat down facing us.

"as we in Germany began knowing that the war was lost, and the net began to tightena"down to the final battle of Berlin-we knew that the war had taken on a new essencea"the real war then became who was to grab the most German scientists. If Russia got well, I don't know how it really came out-numerically or in terms of scientific brain-power. I only know that the Americans got to me first, snapped me up, took me away in a car, gave me a drink, put pistols to my head, made promises, talked madly. I signed everything-"

"all right," I said, "so much for history. but I'm still not going to stick my d.i.c.k, my poor little d.i.c.k into that hunk of sheetmetal or whatever it is! Hitler must have really been a madman to nursemaid you. I wish the Russians had gotten to your a.s.s first! I want my 20 bucks back!"

Von Brashlitz laughed, "heeeheeeheeehe-it is just my little joke, nien? heeeheeeheeeheee!"

he shoved that mound of lead back into the closet.slammed the door. "oh, heheeehee!" had a bit more schnapps.

Von B. poureed another schnapps. he really put them down.

"gentlemen, I am an artist and an inventor! my f.u.c.k MACHINE is really my daughter, Tanya-"

"more little jokes, Von?" I asked.

"joke nothing! Tanya! go over and sit in the gentleman's lap."

Tanya laughed, got up, walked over and sat in my lap. a f.u.c.k MACHINE? I couldn't believe it! her skin was skin, or so it seemed, and her tongue as it worked into my mouth as we kissed, it was not mechanical - each movement was different, responding to my own.

I was busy at it, ripping her blouse from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, working tangled; we somehow got to standing - and I took her standing up, my hands reaching down, spreading her a.s.shole as I pumped, she came - I could feel the throbbing, and I joined.

it was the best f.u.c.k I had ever had!

Tanya went to the bathroom, cleaned-up and showered, dressed-up again for Indian Mike. I guess.

"man's greatest invention," Von Brashlitz said quite seriously.

he was quite right.

then Tanya came out and sat on MY lap.

"NO! NO! TANYA! IT'S THE OTHER MAN'S TURN! YOU JUST FINISHED f.u.c.kING THAT ONE!"

she didn't seem to hear. and it was strange, even for a f.u.c.k MACHINE, because, really, I had never been a very good lover.

"do you love me?" she asked.

"yes."

"I love you. and I am so happy. and-I'm not supposed to be alive. you know that, don't you?"

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it!" screamed the old man, "this f.u.c.kING MACHINE!" he walked over to this varnished box with the word TANYA printed on the side. there were these little wires sprouting out of it; there were dials, and needles that quivered, and many colors, lights that blinked on and off, things that ticked-Von B.

was the craziest pimp I had ever met, he kept playing with the dials, then he looked at Tanya: "25 YEARS! d.a.m.n near a lifetime to build you! I even had to hide you from HITLER! and now-you try to turn into a mere and ordinary b.i.t.c.h!"

"I'm not 25," said Tanya, "I'm 24." "you see? you see? just like a common b.i.t.c.h!"

he went back to his dials.

"you've put on a different shade of lipstick," I said to Tanya.

"you like it?"

"oh, yes!"

she leaned over and kissed me.

Von B. kept playing with the dials. I felt that he would win.

Von Brashlitz turned to Indian Mike. "it's just a minor kink in the machine. trust me. I'll get it straight in a minute, ya?"

"I hope so," said Indian Mike, "I've got 14 inches waiting and am twenty bucks down.

"I love you," Tanya told me, "I will never f.u.c.k any other man. If I can't have you, I won't have anybody."

"I'll forgive you, Tanya, for anything that you do."

the prof was getting p.i.s.sed. he kept turning the dials but nothing was happening. "TANYA! It is time for you to f.u.c.k the OTHER man! I am-getting tired-must have a bit of schnapps-be off to sleep-Tanya-"

"ah," said Tanya, "you rotten old f.u.c.k! you and your schnapps, and then nibbling at my t.i.ts all night, so I can't even sleep while you can't even raise a decent hard! you're disgusting!"

"VAS?"

"I SAID, *YOU CAN'T EVEN RAISE A DECENT HARD!'"

"you, Tanya, will pay for this! you are MY creation, I am not yours!"

he kept turning his magic k.n.o.bs, I mean, on the machine. he was quite angry, and you could see that, somehow, the anger gave him a vital brilliance beyond himself, "just wait, Mike. all I have to do it to adjust the electronics! Wait! a short! I see it!"

then he leaped up. this guy they had saved from the Russians.

he looked at Indian Mike. "it's straight now! the machine is in order! have fun!"

then he walked over to his schnapps bottle, poured another goody, sat down to watch.

Tanya got off of my lap and walked over to Indian Mike. I watched Tanya and Indian Mike embrace.

Tanya worked Indian Mike's zipper down, got his c.o.c.k out, and man he had plenty of c.o.c.k! he'd said 14 inches but it looked more like 20.

then Tanya put both her hands around Mike's c.o.c.k.

he moaned in glory.

then she ripped the whole c.o.c.k right out of and off of his body. threw it to the side.

I saw the thing roll along the rug like an insane sausage, dribbling little sad trailets of blood. It rolled up against a wall. then stayed there like something with a head but no legs and no place to go-which was true enough.

next, here came the b.a.l.l.s flying through the air. a heavy, looping sight. they simply landed upon the center of the rug and didn't know what to do but bleed.

so, they bled.

Von Brashlitz, the hero of the America-Russ invasion took a hard look at what was left of Indian Mike, my old beer-drinking buddy, very red on the floor, flowing from the center - Von B took the highroad, down the stairwaya"

room 69 had done everything but that.

and then I asked her: "Tanya, the heat will be here very quickly. shall we dedicate the room number to our love?"

"of course, my love!"

we made it, just in time, and the stupid heat ran in.

one of the learned then p.r.o.nounced Indian Mike dead.

and since Von B. was a kind of U.S.Govt. product, there was a h.e.l.l of a lot of people around - various chickens.h.i.t officials - firemen, reporters, the cops, the inventor, the C.I.A., the F.B.I., and various other forms of human s.h.i.t.