orangetoughguy | log post II

Smile.

[Click! Click! Click! One of those has a portion of Larry's thumb in it. Oh fucking well. It's evidence for them and them alone. Maybe they might get a laugh out of it. Though it's got nothing on all of those arms under lock and kitty key. Man, if only they knew. Though fuck, knowing would mean they would have passed up this adventure entirely.]

Oh yeah? I think you could do it.

[If the whole police deal is in his future. They have a future. All of these assets are insurance of that. Freddy Newendyke is a good looking son of a bitch as it is, armed to the teeth and suited up is taking it up a notch.]

Looks good on you.

[Wat. Stop that. Don't take pictures geeze. Okay he's not gonna stop Larry from doing it and his expression is just the briefest respite of good humor in a horrible situation. Leave it to this old fuck to make Freddy smile.]

Thanks. Ready, tough guy?

[Plunk. Helmet on the old man's head.]

Ready.

[He pockets the device. For effect he grabs the biggest gun he can cock.]

You look kinda funny.

[Sorry old man he just has to say it but he means it in the best way possible. To punctuate his feelings on the matter the kid goes in for a kiss, but it's stopped by the knocking of the helmets. Oops. Now Freddy looks like a dork.]

Funny?

[The helmet makes his head feel heavy as it tilts to one side. Clunk of a shield to shield.]

Hey. Watch it.

[Here, he pulls off his helmet.]

Wanna try that again or do I still look too funny, huh?

[If he says yes the vest is gonna stay on.]

Yeah.

[To all three of his questions. The kid pulls his helmet off to lean forward. He grabs the other man by his vest and kisses firm and deep. It's not quite the smooth operator kiss against the skyline Larry gave him earlier but maybe that's part of Freddy's own brand of charm. Right here in a messed up police station surrounded by who knows what out there.]

Why I ough--mmm [mmmmmm. A kiss like this in the damn precinct in the presence of fallen comrades? Ballsy. Fucking ballsy. Larry welcomes the kid into his mouth.

When they can rest safe and sound, he's going to fuck Freddy so damn hard because he can. After all they've been through and done in less than twenty four hours alone.]

Mmm...mmff.....

[That's the sound of a pleased Newendyke, eagerly and hungrily kissing another man. Not just any man but the man he would fucking lay down his life for and vice versa. He knows he'd a cop, he knows he's a crook, but they've traveled far beyond that. Everything now? Fuck he only wishes he'd cried harder earlier this morning to really show just how much Larry means to him. Looking like a haphazard fuck in riot gear comes close enough. It'll do. Finally Freddy has to breathe.]

Whew... [He licks his lips.] Okay. Follow me, the lot's over here.

[There has to be at least one car left. White "Two Guns" Dimick proved the windshield isn't bulletproof but that was then and this is now and there are other advantages to a cruiser. For example, if they get one of the nicer ones, they've got a battering ram for a bumper.]

[Larry wishes he would have fucked Freddy up against that window looking at their cities side by side. Oh well.]

Yessir.

[Helmet on again, he licks his lips. Gun in one hand, shield in the other he is back up as the kid leads the way.]

How about that one?

[The van looking paddy wagon. Sure it isn't as distinct as the cars but size alone could be used.]

[If they use their imaginations it could be the same. If they get a fancy ass new sort of window system that transposes the LA skyline over their window they could definitely manage. Isn't that shit pretty modern and current for a place like the City? The point is it's doable and after this blowover the kid is more than willing to entertain getting fucked like that, fucked real nice and hard.]

What the hell? Central's still got one of these?

[Fucking weird, but a car is a car. Freddy knows exactly where they keep the keys and lucky for them this one's running on a full tank. Poor old van neglected by LA's finest. But it's the harder more aggressive vehicles left burning on the streets. They better get in fast, they're back out in the open.]

Here. [He offers the key to Lawrence Dimick, professional armed robber extraordinaire. Looking at him like this about to take a police vehicle the kid has the fleeting thought of throwing all their gear down to fuck in the back. Stop it Newendyke.]

[This is one of the many reasons why they get along so damn well.]

Why is it weird? Chances are everybody came on down here whatever way they could when shit went down.

[Let's see some dead motherfucker try and play chicken with this? Or better yet try to take a bite outta them now? Ha. Keys in hand he looks over at the kid. Fuck are they on the same wavelength?]

Get in the damn car.

[Before something happens.]

Yeah, I guess. Full tank of gas too. [The kid gives the fuel gauge a poke after climbing in, getting in the damn car, pushing those thoughts of one (not so) last end of the world wild fuck aside.] Let's look for other people.

[A typical suggestion from a typical wannabe superhero but Freddy has reason to worry too, what if others from their old place are down in LA? He takes the network device out again.]

Not too far. The goal is to get the fuck out of here.

[Old bear in the driver's seat now. It's pretty much driving a car. A big, long lumbering piece of shit.]

Where do you wanna start?

[Before they roll out. So far it's been pretty vacant around here. Keys are in the ignition now but not on.]

I wanna find that piece of shit Pink.

[And his toucan, but moving out west seems like the best idea. Freddy doesn't want to go back to the City without Sam however getting stuck in this hellhole isn't something he wants for anyone, especially Larry.]

Let's go west.

I think we got enough gas to try.

[If the zombies haven't got to him first.]

Chances are he was trying to make his way over there.

[The engine comes on nice and clean. If one thing is for sure the boys in blue take care of their shit. Easy now they roll out of the lot.]

I say we keep the windows up unless we need to fire.

[Don't want to take any chances.]

These things have a normal radio or just the CB?

Sounds like a plan to me. The A/C works.

[Freddy notes then looks at Larry, brow and corner of his mouth quirking.] You think we don't listen to regular radio?

[He's reaching for the--what? There's a bizarre system going on there under the dash, probably some rookie's attempt at hooking up his ipod to the squad van. Right.] Don't know who'd be broadcasting right now anyway. [Freddy's not sure what to make of it. Right next to the ipod is the CB but what's more important than that is the RDS hook up.] Van's got the new Code 31 shit.

[The kid grabs the mouth piece. In Freddy's world this is supercool.] You can break through FM with this.

Crank it.

[The tunes and the A/C. Paradise wherever they fucking go.]

Fuck. I dunno. Someone's gotta keep their ears open.

[Always vigilant and in someone else's business. That's what cops do. Maybe not the one next to him but the standard pig.]

Find us some driving music.

[No other moving vehicles in sight in this neck of town so they can roll on through the lights. Pedestrians lumbering through regardless of the color obviously are worth hitting.]

You got it.

[Freddy figures out the click wheel pretty easily and before you know it they've got Roy Orbinson crooning from the dash. A/C's on and the CB's deathly quiet, but they're well armed and well prepared. Who knew the two of them could work wonders as a team in a zombie apocalypse.]

When we get back I'm gonna crack open a can of ravioli and just eat that shit while you blow me.

[There. He said it. In the most unattractive way possible.]

[Wait? That's supposed to be unattractive? Roy is talking about some pretty woman. He's on his own there. Larry is hung up on the handsome asshole who feels like he can get away with saying bullshit like that.]

You think I'm gonna let it go down like that?

[Rolling by they clip a woman who has finished gnawing on her baby. She reels and then hits the lamp post so hard that her jaw comes off.]

Why not?

[Freddy dares to ask as that woman goes a bit splatty on the side. Sick. He almost wants to tell Larry the bitch had a baby, however it's an extremely different situation. She had her baby raw, for example.]

If I'm gonna have your dick in my throat it's only fair something else should be in your mouth.

[Woaaah ooooooh Mr. Orbinson croons in his way kinda like if he could hear what's going on.

The bitch and her baby are splatters. They can't be saved. Technically doing em in is the best that can be done. Who would want the rest of them to be carrying on like they're the shit in someone's drain?]

Think you could stomach that? Or really if I'm gonna do anything right you wouldn't want to be eating. A man can't yell and eat at the same time.

Like what your dick too? That's real creative.

[Tit for tat, he's joking with the old man of course. Roy's not helping much with his crooning, it sort of only eggs the kid on. Oh watch out for that mail man. He still has his postal bag on him even though he's got someone else's arm in his mouth.]

[Larry only swerves to miss the car stopped in their lane. It's the mail man's lucky day...for being an undead deadbeat.]

A compromise of sorts. I was actually thinking of laying you on the coffee table facing the ceiling with your ankles up by my ears. But whatever.

[Dangerous, dangerous game and just not the fucking time. Unless they pull over and whack one another off like school kids. Not smart Dimick, not fucking smart.]

I'm not seein' anybody yet.

In my converse or some timberlands?

[May as well dig deeper while they have the time. Except they don't have the time, to whack off anyway. Freddy takes part of the CB in hand, ready to broadcast a signal to anyone out there who might be listening. They have the device on their side too of course. But...he's not saying anything yet...because he wants to hear the answer to his question.]

Yeah. Seeing as we won't make it upstairs.

[Facts only.]

Doesn't really matter to me. As long as I'm pounding the shit out of you.

[How's that for an answer. Larry's not lookin' at the kid. Got mirrors and a road to watch but he's smirking like the smug son of a gun that he feels like.]

log post II

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