Let the Good Times Roll

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Old Gregg enlists the help of his old man, the Hitcher, to reunite with his beloved Howard. When Howard goes missing on their trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, Vince once again has to save Howard in every way possible.

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Chapter 4

Contents

Chapter 4

Vince dangled as far off the boat as he could while a couple of lovely young ladies held onto his legs.

“He’s a funky merman in a tutu. You can’t miss him.”

“Whatchu sayin’?” replied the alligator.

“He’s half fish, half man, half Rick James. He’s got a kind of seaweed gheri curl.” Vince had only seen Old Gregg once. He’d saved Howard from his funky sea lovin’ on the night of Howard’s birthday. They should have both known the pencil case girl was too good to be true. When she had eagerly agreed to flirt with Howard for money, Vince should have sent her Diva Zappa-looking ass packing.

“You on the drugs, boy?” asked the alligator, with judgmental eyes.

“No, he’s real, and I think he’s in Louisiana somewhere, and he’s got my best mate… my best friend, Howard Moon. He’s tall and has little eyes, likes jazz and stationery.”

“The fish-man?”

“No, Howard! The fish-man is shorter than Howard and has blue eyes. Let me show you their pictures.”

Vince crawled back into the boat and grabbed his sketchpad.

“Wha’ he say, boy?” asked the captain as he helped Vince stretch out towards the alligator. “Always wondered what they think ‘bout, sunnin’ themselves on the rocks.”

“He thinks I’m on drugs,” Vince explained as he held out a drawing of Howard and one of Old Gregg.

“Is you?” asked the captain as he gripped Vince’s ankles.

“No! I’m just trying to save my best friend from being forcibly married to a sea monster.”

“You is on drugs, ain’t you?” the alligator asked, his lack of faith troubling Vince.

“I’m dead sober. Howard’s my best mate, and I don’t know what I’ll do… Please, help me.”

The alligator nodded his head, and everyone on the boat gasped.

“Coincidence,” snorted the captain.

The gator shook his head no and said, “Tell that cap’in a yours not to be so haughty. An’ tell’im to throw me another marshmallow. Them is tasty.”

“He wants another marshmallow,” Vince translated. He waited for the confection to be tossed before adding, “And he thinks you’re full of yourself.”

“I’ll spread the word through the swamp. I sun on this rock pretty regular, if you needs to find me. Good day to ya, pretty lady-man.”

With that, the alligator climbed back into the water and swam away.

xxx

Howard gagged on the thick and creamy liquid being forced down his throat.

Bailey’s. Of all the things Old Gregg and the Hitcher could have been forcing down his throat, Howard welcomed the Bailey’s. It tasted of beige.

“That’s right, Howard. Wake up now. You’re back with Old Gregg, my fuzzy little man peach. We’re gonna be married. I’m Old Gregg!”

“‘e knows you’re Old Gregg! Not like ‘e’s gonna get you confused wit’ sum’un else now, is ‘e?” the Hitcher lectured in an almost fatherly way.

Old Gregg looked into his father’s eyes. “I’m Old Gregg!”

xxx

“I’m fine with what I have on, really, Old Gregg. You needn’t make a fuss. I’ll just keep on what I’m wearing.”

Howard’s clothes were wet with sweat, urine, and vomit, but he really didn’t want to take his clothes off anywhere near Old Gregg. The Hitcher seemed to be gone, but there was no knowing when he’d return. He’d only said he was off for a good rape and pillage. How long did that take? An hour? A year?

“But Old Gregg has nice clothes for you. Nice, creamy beige clothes to go with your little shifty brown eyes.”

The merman looked so sincere and eager to please, one could almost forget he was a psychotic murderer.

“Thank you, Greggory. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Is it? Is Old Gregg thoughtful?”

Howard froze, unsure of how to proceed.

“Answer me. It’s rude not to answer a question. Old Gregg doesn’t like being treated rudely.”

“You’re very thoughtful, Old Gregg. Thank you for the clothes. Where can I go and change?” Howard answered, his voice cracking with nerves. As a child, Howard had spent a lot of time in the care of his Nan, before she was diagnosed as being bipolar. He tried to remember the techniques he’d used to deal with her – people had always marveled at his ability to get along with Nan Moon.

“You can change right here. You’ve seen Old Gregg, now Old Gregg wants to see you.”

His tone was almost sweet. Howard’s hands were shaking.

“I’d rather… maintain a little mystery? Save something for…”

“Our honeymoon?” Old Gregg asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes! We want that to be a special night, not sully it with a lot of pre-marital nudity, so if you could point me in the direction of a private room…”

“This is it. This is my home,” Gregg explained as he waved his hand around the small, dank cave. “It’s humble, but it’s home. That’s what Dad says. Dad says I can’t live in Black Lake no more, because your pretty little friend would find us.”

Howard grabbed at his chest as the claustrophobia set in. He was trapped in a tiny cave, God knew where, with Old Gregg.

Vince will find me. He always finds me.

“Old Gregg doesn’t like your pretty little friend. Your pretty little friend keeps us apart. Why does he do that?” Old Gregg asked with a slight edge in his voice. “Why doesn’t he want Old Gregg to be happy?”

Howard remembered two things that had helped him survive time spent with Nan Moon. Failing to find a sofa to hide under, Howard went with the second option: abject cowardice.

“He wants you to be happy, Old Gregg! I want you to be happy. Everyone wants you to be happy. What can I do to make you happy?” Howard asked with what he hoped was a nice smile.

“You can put on the clothes Old Gregg brought you.”

Howard took the beige clothes from Old Gregg’s hands. It was a vintage beige suit, perhaps from the early 1950’s, and in very good shape.

“This is very nice. Where did you get this?”

“It was supposed to be a suit for a marriage but the groom ran away from his lovely bride,” Old Gregg explained, holding Howard’s gaze without a blink. Howard’s knees felt a bit weak. He wondered what had happened to the husband-to-be, but he didn’t dare ask.

“So if you could just turn your back, I’ll change,” Howard said, aiming for cheerful but sounding terrified to his own ears.

“Oh no. Old Gregg knows better than to turn his back on someone. Especially a slippery character like yourself. You don’t want to go running away from me again, do you? That wouldn’t be nice.”

“You could… close your eyes?” Howard asked, afraid of pushing too hard.

“Or I could keep them open.”

“That works, too.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Howard gave a terse nod and began to strip. He hadn’t felt so self-conscious about his body since he’d had his third nipple removed. Well, had it transformed into a third ear, a nostril, and then a beetle, which had scurried away and never come back. He had to admit that in the end, Naboo’s magic had freed him of his superfluous nipple, but it had been an unnecessarily painful process. Naboo said the magic was tricky. Howard thought it might have gone easier if Naboo hadn’t eaten shrooms first.

Old Gregg made approving noises as Howard disrobed, causing the man to blush from his hairline to his feet. When he was down to his pants, he couldn’t decide which way to turn. He didn’t want Old Gregg seeing him from the front but he also didn’t want to turn his back on Old Gregg.

For several reasons.

He compromised by doing his best to jump into the dress slacks while covering his manhood with his hand.

The trousers were short in the leg and big in the waist. The dress shirt was short in the arms yet hung nearly to his knees. He put on the suit jacket, wanting as many layers as possible, but opted to leave the tie off. He didn’t need to help anyone strangle him. Old Gregg and the Hitcher surely had plenty of experience in that arena.

“You look nice, Howard. Very handsome and manly.” Gregg’s tone was gentle and almost awestruck.

“Thank you, Gregg. And thank you for the clean clothes. Your old man was a bit rough on me,” Howard said in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

“Oh yes. Father can be quite hard, but he loves me.”

“Is that why he keeps you in a cave at the bottom of the Mississippi?”

“Yes, sir. He always makes sure I have a nice place to live, and now we won’t have to worry about your pretty friend.”

Howard sat down on one of the two chairs in the cave before his knees buckled.

“You mean because he doesn’t know where we are, right? You aren’t going to do anything to him, are you?”

“What do you mean, Howard? What would I do to your pretty little friend?”

The menace was clear in his tone.

“Gregg, don’t… Please don’t hurt Vince. I’m begging you, please don’t…”

“Why, motherlicker?” Gregg was quickly across the room and yanking Howard’s head back by the hair. “Why should I care about your little friend? He’s trying to keep you from me. He’s a bad man.”

“He’s not bad. He just doesn’t understand,” Howard whimpered.

“What doesn’t he understand, sir?”

“Our love? He doesn’t know how much I love you, Gregg. If I tell him, he’ll understand and he won’t be any bother. Just let me talk to him…”

His head hit the table and was pulled back before he had time to register anything but pain.

“You’re not going anywhere, Howard Moon. Old Gregg is trying to forgive you, but he can’t trust you.”

It felt like there was an awful lot of blood coming from his head. Old Gregg was smiling.

“I’m sorry, Gregg.”

He loosened his grip on Howard’s hair and began stroking his fingers through the blood-matted curls.

“You’ve got a cut on your forehead. Old Gregg will fix it up for you. Old Gregg is first aid certified.”

“Thank you, Greggory.”