Los Locos Was Here Part 3

Brucie was fine for most of the journey but he started to get agitated as I told him more about the party. When I described exactly where it was he flipped out, pulled over, stopped the car and kicked me out. The spot where he dropped me seemed awfully familiar, and as I turned around he sped away and I realised why. This is it, this is where it all began. This is the house of the party.

Something didn’t seem right. An hour ago there was life here, but now it is dark and quiet. As I entered the house it was thick with dust as if no-one had been here for years. I stepped in something sticky. On my next step there was more. On my third I kicked something soft and light. I crouched down and picked up a green suede slip-on shoe, stained with blood! In a panic I scrambled for the light switch and when it came on there “She” was, her fingernails broken and bloody from scratching out her final words…

…Los Locos Was Here.

Los Locos? Are you Crazy? Part 2:

When my friend re-appeared he didn’t look quite so square, he had the dishevelled look of a man post-coitus and the devils glare to suggest he wanted more. I’d take anybody’s bet he’d never see her again, so maybe my luck was in. That beautiful thought was ruined by a scream: some silly girl upset about some actor or other and how there would never be a Knight’s Tale 2 (well boo hoo).My friend was leaving, I gave him a nod goodbye, he nodded back “hello”. I gave him a “Take me” shrug. He didn’t understand.

As the night wore on, the numbers dwindled and I realised I'd stayed too long. I stumbled through a game of spin the bottle, knocking over drinks on the way: note to self, red wine and suede shoes don’t mix. So I kicked them off and headed for the pool. At least there were lively souls out there; and they weren’t wearing any trousers.

Los Locos Was Here Part 2:

It didn’t take long to realise that getting home wouldn’t be as easy as I’d hoped. With no phone and no money a taxi was out of the question and there just wasn’t anybody about, so I set off walking and hoped for the best.

Twenty minutes down the road I was starting to wish I had planned my journey a little better, I wasn’t even sure I was going in the right direction and I was starting to need a piss. Of course, I could go behind the bushes there were plenty of those about But I knew that as soon as I did that, somebody would drive by. I cursed myself for falling into the honey trap and I cursed her for being so good at being bad, so good.

Eventually my bladder waved the white flag and I moved over to the side of the road. Sure enough, as soon as there was steam, I saw headlights coming towards me. I didn’t even try to hide what I was doing, I just waved him over. He slowed down, stopped the car and wound down his window. I swear this guy was the spit of Bruce Forsyth, so when he asked me “do you need a lift mate?” I thought “Bonus”.

Los Locos? Are you Crazy? Part 1:

I was bored out of my brain. The most interesting person there was the judge, and the most interesting thing about him was that he was there. The “He” arrived. A guy I had never seen before, a cute guy, but far to0 straight for this crowd. He made his way over. It was obvious what he wanted, so I told him “there isn’t much left”. I always tell them that, it makes it easier to fob them off later if I don’t like them. But he was grateful and charming, and it seemed we would hit it off, until “She” came along. You know her, blond hair, blue eyes, tight dress showing off her curvy figure. Not curvy as in fat, curvy as in “all the bits she is supposed to have”. The type of girl that all the guys say isn't their type, until she flutters her eyes and fleshes her cleavage and leads them away by the cock. And that is exactly what happened, one minute I was making a new friend, the next he had disappeared in a dangerous whirl of teeth and tits and ass. And mark my words, she is dangerous.

Los Locos Was HerePart 1:

I couldn’t really say how it started; you see I was a long way from home. When I did get to the party, it was already in full swing. There was a clown, a stripper, there was a coy looking fella standing furtively in the corner. He was wearing green suede slip-on shoes and a safari suit. You know, the kind of suit Roger Moore used to wear. But this was no James Bond, and you could tell by the way he looked at the boys he wouldn’t really want to be.

The coy looking fella told me “there isn’t much left”. Well I had work in the morning, so I didn’t really want there to be much left. Still, I took what I could and then thanked him and then “She”; yep, you knew there was going to be a “she” didn’t you? She took me by the hand, she took me upstairs, she took my heart, my wallet and my phone, and then she was gone. I’d been sucked dry in more ways than one.

As I searched the house for my lost love, I heard a scream. It’s not that anybody was hurt, it’s just that word had gotten around that Heath Ledger had died. What better time to leave? As I made my way out, the coy looking fella gave me a nod, as if to say “I knew this wasn’t your bag”, so I nodded back as if to say “have you got any more of that stuff?” and he shrugged, a gesture I took to mean “I might find a little more if you want to take this upstairs..!”

I left.