Bum Magic: A Tale of Sludge and Slime

6: It's My Fault You're a Goddamn Wizard, Gus?



Mickey puffed his cigar and smiled. Smoke came out of the gap where his canine was missing. He looked happy as a fucking clam on that suede couch, feet propped up on a coffee table. His face was fuller, his curly black hair and beard were trimmed, and he was clean for the first time in years. I couldn’t wait to splatter the room with his insides. I clenched my fist so hard my knuckles popped. He put a defensive hand up in front of his face.

“Before you try anything crazy,” he said, “I just wanna say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away, I know. But I panicked. I freaked the fuck out. There was a lot of shit going on, you know? Then, after it all died down, I didn’t know if you or Beth were alive or not until I heard that Buffalo Bill fled the state and his dealing spot was covered in KY Jelly or some shit. They all thought there was a very brave rapist on the loose, but I suspected it was you.”

“Beth isn’t alive,” I said. “She was torn apart by dogs in front of me. Dogs sent after us by the guy you pissed off. You didn’t panic – you just never fucking think, Mickey. It’s your fault that she’s dead, and it’s your fault that I have this shit on my arm. I couldn’t give less of a shit about your apology.”

His smile vanished. He took the cigar out of his mouth, snuffed it out on his knee, and stood up. I hate to admit it, but I was scared. On his absolute best behavior, Mickey is a crazy motherfucker, and I doubt his newfound power had calmed him down any. The scratchy zig-zags covering his entire arm triggered my fight-or-flight response, and at that moment, my body begged me to choose “flight”. But I hadn’t come this far just to run away like a bitch – assuming it was even possible for me to run away at this point – and part of me wanted to see what he could do, even if it meant I was blown to pieces.

“It’s my fault that you have that mark? It’s my fault that you have awesome fucking magical powers, like most people dream of having? It’s my fault that you’re a goddamn wizard, Gus? In that case, you’re welcome. I’m sorry about Beth, I really am, but holy shit, look at what you’re capable of now. We’re some powerful sons of bitches now, dude. Just you wait til you feed your mark a little more – the third progression is wild. And this is just the beginning. If we keep working, you and I could run shit, so why don’t we just put all this bad shit behind us and start over?”

The more I listened to him talk, the more pissed off I became, and the itchier my hand got. I pushed him and he fell backward onto the couch.

“Start over? Beth is fucking dead, Mickey!” I erupted. “And the guys you stole it from are on my ass. If they find me, I’m dead, and you’d be next in line. This isn’t a game. You’ve fucked us all. All I want now is the satisfaction of being the one to put you in the ground.”

I launched globs from both hands at once directly at his face, but he slid off the couch and onto the floor before they could hit him. He crawled towards me and grabbed both of my ankles. My legs instantly fell asleep and I fell to the ground. Then he grabbed my arms and did the same thing. Just like that, in a matter of seconds, I was useless, completely incapacitated. He got up and re lit his cigar.

“Don’t worry,” he said after a couple of puffs, “you’ll be able to use them again in a minute or two. I’m gonna leave now, though. If you want to talk again, meet me at the other end of this compound, in the Executive Meeting Room. Don’t worry, it’s easy to find. There are signs. I hope I’ll see you soon, man, I really do.”

He stepped over my limp body and pressed a red button next to the door. Red lights flashed and alarms whooped on every wall. Mickey walked out of the room and left the door open. People were yelling down the halls, and a mob of goons started running towards me.


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