99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall: Flash Fiction
Serena M. was into cops. INTO police officers. She was a law enforcement groupie. Her latest paramour was a South Boston police officer named Dalton Pavel.
She and Officer Pavel had just completed their romantic rendezvous in the backseat of his patrol car.
It was the middle part of evening. The two of them were driving around now.
"Look out there," Officer Pavel said. "What do you see?"
"Oh, one of those 'third eye' kind of questions," Serena said, perking up. "I'm good at this game." She should have been; she'd had a lot of experience.
"Now don't tell me," she said. "I know this one."
Officer Pavel tried to look at her flippancy with stern disapproval. But he couldn't quite keep the corners of his mouth from upturning.
Serena noted this as her due. She liked to make people laugh. "Don't tell me, its the 'concrete jungle' out there, right?"
"Wait, wait," she said, "its prey and predators.... Or is it the urban zoo full of two-legged animals... a den of wolves and sheep?"
"I got it," Serena said. "I am looking at the urban, concrete jungle of wolves and sheep, prey and predators. A bunch animals, real humanoid zoo specimens; and you, Officer Pavel and your brother officers are the game wardens."
"How's that?" she said.
"Wrong," Officer Pavel said.
As she looked back at him, Serena found herself staring down the barrel of her lover's service revolver.
"You don't know what you see out there," he said, "because nothing is what it seems."
A tense moment passed between them before the policeman gave a chuckle. Just kidding.
After a moment Serena allowed herself to laugh as well. Okay, somewhat strange, edgy sense of humor...
The gun went off.
In a back alley Officer Pavel went to work. "Hum-hum-hum bottles of beer on the wall, hum-hum-hum bottles of beer, take one down and pass it around, hum-hum-hum bottles of beer on the wall.." With well-practiced movements he put Serena's limp body into a black body bag and put it into his trunk, and drove away.
Now Officer Dalton Pavel was making his way into the interior of a cemetery, carrying Serena's body and a shovel.
He was digging the hole. "Hum-hum-hum bottles of beer on the wall, hum-hum-hum bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, hum-hum-hum bottles of beer on the wall."
The body was in six feet deep now, and he was covering the plot. "Hum-hum-hum bottles of beer on the wall, hum-hum-hum bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, hum-hum-hum bottles of beer on the wall."
Officer Pavel sang that stupid little song every time he killed a woman. He was down to fifty-eight bottles of beer. He wondered if anyone would stop him before he got the last one.
More by this Author
This story is political satire, meant to try to capture the spirit of the political Right, especially as manifested in this presidential election cycle.
This is a short story about John Keep's proposal.
- 0On the Occasion of the Death of Fidel Castro at Ninety: The Cuban Revolution in Historical and Sociological Perspective
What I want to try to do is to help us achieve clarity on just exactly what the Cuban Revolution of January 1, 1959 was all about.