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Mongo



Mongo make a wish for Holday is for Christmas story written for Mongo By Skittles and AngelOfDeath:


Twas the night before Christmas in the Florida dead heat,
In a trailer that smelled like old rotten ass and Charlies dead cut off feet.
The air hung so thick it could gag passing flies.
And the neighbors crossed streets just to avoid the smell of Saggy Granny’s old crusty fish pie.

Bill collectors knocked on the patched cardboard door.
Letters of past debt stapled upon it from when Saggys dead daddy dodged the first World war.
Saggy screamed lies she half-believed. “Your money is coming once Charlie’s Sears pension is received.”

The couch just like Charlie had no legs, the TV just snowed.
The trailer park toughs took bets on when the place would explode.

Saggy Granny paced, swatting flies off her rear.
Needing her Arby’s fix for the fouth time here.
Her shit encrusted Santa suit stuck to rolls much too small in size,
Smelled like hot garbage and an adult site forum filled with copy/paste lies.

Mongo sat still, eyes buggy and wide,
On furlough from the hospital where they tried to cure his tumor filled hide.
His bracelet still clung like it knew he’d return, his asshole pulsing red and covered with chemo burns.

Saggy Granny slithered like a snail leaving old lady slime across sticky tile,
Trailing a smell like she had not bathed in a long while.
She reeked of old ass, pits, failure and despair,
Toilet ghosts tangled deep in her back pussy hair.

The Home Depot toilet bucket was staged with great care,
Behind a shower curtain held up by a old broken lawn chair.
Charlie lay grumbling, Natty Ice in his grip,
Dreaming of prepubescent girls and taking a sip.

When out by the Rogue there arose such a clatter,
Charlie yelled at Saggy that she was due a hit to the night with the frying pan if she didn’t check what was the matter.
Outside the trailer came flashing red, blue,and white,
Charlie said, “NOT AGAIN,” thinking of Leeroy taking his ass in the cell that one cold dreary wet night.

Charlie rolled through yelling, his Natty Ice warm.
Cursing his luck and the day he rode a door to freedom in the eye of a storm.
He called the police names he will not now claim. His legs tossed to the side, and his cock limp with shame.

Blue lights bloomed through the busted trailer blinds. Broccoli in the midst of a seizure induced by the lights bouncing off her Saggy Granny's behind.

Dragged out screaming, beer spilling free,
Charlie vanished into Police custody.

Then the door creaked open—slow, deliberate, wrong—
And LADARIUS entered, humming a an old negro spiritual song.

A pimp from the seventies decked out in clothes from a goodwill donation bin,
Polyester suit stretched tight a gold tooth in his grin .
Yelling at Saggy, Now ho where ya been?”

He surveyed the room like it owed him rent,
A trial of Arbys Beef n Cheddar wrapper’s, his money was spent.

A seventies pimp dragged from the wrong decade’s grave,
Polyester loud, eyes flat and depraved.

Cheap cologne flooded the trailer in waves,
A choking mix of rot like Saggys dead daddy’s grave.
He smiled like he knew everyone’s weakness by smell,
Saggys asshole clenched knowing the next couple hours would be hell.

Saggy Granny leaned towards him, desperate and weak,
Said, “YOU LOOK JUST LIKE GEROME,” her voice a barely a squeak.

Ladarius smiled like he’d heard that before.
He always had. They all look alike, that was fo sho.

Then something scraped softly outside the tin,
A wet dragging sound, slow and thin.
Mongo looked up, heart ticking wrong,
As a shadow stretched unnaturally long.

Through the busted blinds, glowing red light bled,
Not warm.
Not kind.
Just sickly and dead.

The donkey that attacked Saggy stood there in the trailer parks brown mud,
Hide patchy, ribs sharp, eyes gone dull with blood.
His nose burned red like an infected sore,
Lighting up Saggys squishy downy face like police cruisers lights on a two dollar whore.

Far away in a cell smelling like piss and shame,
Carlitos dreamed he still mattered, and Charlie was his American name.
In his dream he had legs — cruel, fast, mean —
He chased naked schoolgirls through half-remembered scenes.

The girls ran laughing just out of his grasp,
His two inch knob hard and ready, his pants at half mast.
And just when he thought his reality was more than a dream,
Charlie woke up choking on a scream.

Charlie screamed until his throat went raw,
He woke up alone with nothing at all.
No legs. No beer. No rage left to spend.
Just a prison sentence humming like it would never end.

Back at the trailer the donkey stood there, ribs sharp, hide torn,
A Christmas mascot dead, stripped and worn.
His nose burned red like Mongos infected Cancer ass. Like a conglomeration of Saggys Christmas's past.

Just when they thought this Christmas couldn’t get any worse,
Rhanda-Lynn came in pulling a .22 clean and quite from her purse.

One sharp crack split the air thin and fast,
The sound scared Saggy and she squeaked brown goo from her ass.

Saggy Granny shuffled forward the ass of her Santa Suit all soggy and wet,
Trailing her stench like unpaid old debts.
She reeked of toilet gravy, sour grease, and decay,
Like a turtle cage boiled and left out all day.

“WELL LOOK AT THAT !” Saggy yelled, “AINT SANTA SO SWEET?
DON’T WORRY ‘BOUT CHRISTMAS DINNER, WE GOT US SOME MEAT.”

Saggy laughed like it solved every problem at once,
Like hunger was holy and mercy was dunce.
Her breath rolled thick, a hot spoiled wave,
While Ladarius nodded like this made them brave.

Rhanda Lynn stared, purse still warm at her side,
Bosom rising heavy, stomach churning at the thought of a dinner of dead donkey hide.

Although Broccoli was a vegatable she learned something that day-
No low is to low when your family’s depraived.


cat52!