Death

Here is another quick and dirty for the BTB crowd. I tried to throw a little humor in it just to lighten it up a bit.

There is mention of one of my favorite StangStar06 stories. For those who read his stories, you will know what I am referring to. I beg his forgiveness if he takes offense, but thanks for a wonderful set up.

No persons or animals were harmed in the making of this story. (see disclaimer below)

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My wife Debbie is cheating on me. Like right now she is cheating on me. No, not with my best friend or her first true love from high school. It was Hans Jorgensen from across the street. With a name like that you immediately picture a thirty something, six foot plus tall, blond haired prick with muscles that would've put Lou Ferrigno to shame.

In reality what you have is a sixty year old AARP enrollee that's maybe five foot four inches tall, three hundred pound asthmatic that would be lucky to see his dick with a mirror on the floor. So why is my wife screwing him? At first I thought it was some previously unknown daddy issues. No, she was spreading her legs because he never had a Sweet Valentine.

Well boo fucking hoo! We all have had to live with disappointment in our lives. I hated that the Indians imploded in the World Series. I lost money on those guys dammit. That's five dollars I'll never get back! But I didn't lose my moral compass because of it. Besides, there's always the Browns, right? RIGHT?

Sorry, I left for a second there but I'm back now.

Debbie has always been one for helping the helpless. Stray animals and Jehovah's Witnesses were her favorite. She always gave a kind word and a bowl of water to those who were in need. It did my heart good to see the animals leave with a smile on their face and those fucking Jehovah's Witnesses on their knees drinking from a bowl on a hot summer day.

But her fucking our neighbor because he never had a Valentine? That's just too fucking much.

I'm not too much on the forgive and forget bullshit unless it's for minor stuff. If your dog shits in my yard I won't go Rambo on you. I will calmly walk over to your residence drop my pants and cleanse my colon on your front lawn with out any harsh words or threats. By the time I get back to my place, you and your dog are forgiven and forgotten.

If someone soils my marriage, now that's a different thing entirely.

My wife knows my take on fidelity. We discussed it at length before we married. You cheat, it's over. But I guess the doctor pushed the needle in too deep during her last Botox injection and it fucked up her memory. Not my fault. She cheats, she pays. And so will the fat bastard.

But how will I get my revenge? The thought of calling in my former Navy Seal buddies in for some suburban action won't work. I wasn't a Seal. Or maybe I'll hire a mob hit man with my spare cash. No, that won't work either. The mortgage, car and credit card payments and Debbie took all my cash.

The only thing left for us poor people is good old fashion violence. But I don't do well in confined spaces surrounded by barbed wire and cell mates who grew up fucking pigs for Saturday night fun. There had to be a better way. Again, how? What kind of deviousness can I use to demonstrate my displeasure in the actions of the two immoral fornicators and keep my freedom?

It has to be decided quickly and it has to be done before the fuckers are done fucking. Besides, there was a neighborhood party I had to go to over at the Peterman's around 7 pm. I didn't want to go but had no choice. This year I agreed to go as Cupid. The kids love it. It was a tradition started years ago. Some father or neighborhood friend dresses up as Cupid and gives the kids a laugh. Yeah I know what your thinking. A fucking pansy wearing a diaper with strapped on Tinkerbell wings carrying a miniature bow and arrow.

That's partially true. Sure it's still a diaper and Tinkerbell wings, but I'm six foot two inches tall, two hundred thirty pound muscled construction worker. I rock the suit! However, instead of a child size bow and arrow, I carry a Bear Threat compound bow with a max draw weight of 70 lbs. This thing will put an arrow through your chest and bury it into the tree behind you. It's not a kids toy.

Maybe I could use the costume and bow to my advantage. Before I go to the party I can put one hell of a scare into Lard Ass and Numb Skull letting them know they have until morning to leave town and that they had better go together. The hunting bow would be the incentive.

I will not support the cheating bitch of mine after she cheated on me. I won't forgive or forget and if the newly elected female judge in the county courthouse thinks I'll pay her alimony after she fucked that bastard, well she's just "nucking futs." He's got money, let him take care of her.

After I squeezed myself into my diaper and strapped on my wings I got a good look in the mirror. "I need another drink!" Even though I make Cupid look good, it's still embarrassing. After throwing another shot of whiskey down my throat, I headed out. The last thing I wanted to see was my wife fucking some fat assed bastard, "but a man's gotta to do what a man's gotta do."

Jorgensen always kept his front door open using only a storm door. He allowed everyone the ability to walk in with just a "Hello." That's how I know he's fucking my wife. With an easy view through his door, I watched the two climb the stairs to his bedromm so they could kill my marriage.

After I walked inside his house I heard the grunting. I made it quietly up the stairs and almost lost control of my stomach, coming and going! On the bed in a sixty nine position was three hundred pounds of fat, dripping in sweat and grunting, spread out over a one hundred twenty pound soon to be ex-wife. It looked like the famed white whale doing a very poor Slip and Slide imitation on a tanned bubble lipped FUCKING CHEATING BITCH!

Sorry I left there for a second but I'm back now.

I stood there for a couple seconds waiting to be noticed. I was growing impatient, not only because I wanted to get this over with but I was losing the battle to keep from soiling my diaper. The scene wasn't pretty. The grunting and groaning went on for a few more seconds before I finally got their attention the best way I knew how.

Now with all due respect to Stangstar06, this isn't a Halloween story, but it seemed fitting.

Both had their eyes closed. Guess when you're into it, you're into it. I walked over to within inches of the pair as I bent down close to the humping white whale Jorgensen and yelled "BOO!"

Seriously folks, I didn't know the guy had a bad heart. Yeah I know it goes along with being old and fat, but I didn't know his heart was that bad. Oh well.

He seized up like a car engine with a failed oil pump and collapsed on the bed. Do you know what it looks like watching three hundred pounds of literal dead weight suffocate a thrashing FUCKING CHEATING WHORE?!

Sorry. It won't happen again.

Well I couldn't very well let her suffocate to death could I. Well could I? No I could not. I still had some love left for the stupid bitch. I placed the bow on the floor and tried to roll the fat man off my wife. Gravity and mass did not allow for a simple roll and drop. I had to use the wall for leverage by placing my back against it and push the whale carcas with my legs. The whole upstairs shook as he hit the floor face up.

Debbie gasped for air several times as her color turned more pinkish. It didn't take long before her eyes adjusted and she seen me standing there. They almost went back the their bugged out state prior to me rolling all that weight off of her.

It was time to move things along as I had a party to go to. The beached whale on the floor wasn't moving but since he didn't go from the famed white whale to a blue whale I figured he was still breathing. I knelt down and noticed he was indeed breathing. I guess I just scared him and he fainted. I slapped his face, hard, thinking it might stir him awake. It did and when he seen the look on my face he almost fainted again.

I continued to slap the idiot's face getting his focus on me. Having the bow back in my hands I emphasized the need to leave the neighborhood. The message was clear when an arrow is pointed at your head. Just because I was dress as Cupid didn't lessen my sincerity.

By now Debbie was crying citing every cliché from the cheaters handbook. Of course I wasn't swayed and told her to pack her shit and get out of my house before I came back from the Peterman's party or I might change my mind and use the bow on both of them.

I had to ask her how could she throw away our marriage for the fat bastard laying on the floor. Her reply goes to helping the helpless. All she wanted was to give him aValentine's Day to remember. She succeeded!

After a quick Happy Valentine's Day one finger salute to my soon to be ex wife, I left the house and went to the party at the Peterman's. The first half hour was filled with wolf whistles, crude remarks and questions about my wife.

Pleading ignorance on the latter I continued my fun with the kids. The little fuckers were just as bad as the adults with the remarks. I swear that Walter's kid wants his ass kicked. I don't care if he's thirteen. No one walks up to me and gives me a wedgie without some sort of payback.

It was about three hours in with the party before the concern for my wife couldn't be ignored any longer. It was also time to take off the costume so I headed home to change. Frank Wilson and his wife came along. He wanted to borrow my cordless drill and Sheila wanted to talk to my wife. She was thinking Debbie started early with one of the bottles of wine we brought back from our Napa Valley trip and lost track of time.

It was obvious Debbie listened since most of her clothes were gone. Not enough to be gone forever but just enough for a few weeks. She probably figured if she left me alone long enough I would get over my mad and I would take her back.

After I changed I went down stairs to see Frank drinking one of my beers at my dining room table. When I asked where Sheila was, he pointed outside and shrugged his shoulders. Sheila was outside talking to a distraught Debbie as she placed her suitcases in good old Hans car. It wasn't long before Sheila came back in. She walked up to me and gave a hug telling me she was so sorry for what Debbie did.

She said Debbie admitted to cheating on me with the old white whale. She just wanted to give him a Valentine's Day to remember and it got out of hand. Well no shit! Debbie hoped I would talk to her after I was done being pissed off at her.

We've been friends long enough that Sheila knew that wasn't likely to happen.

Long story short, I refused to listen to Debbie's bullshit. She fought the divorce for months but eventually it went through. The settlement was fair but with no kids and our income being equal, we split everything 50/50 and went our own way.

Jorgensen also decided it best to listen and left for places unknown.

Sympathy runs deep when a hunk wearing a Cupid suit finds out his wife cheated on him with the neighborhood whale. By the next Valentine's Day I had a new girlfriend and she had no problem with doing a his and hers Cupid suit at the Peterman's.

It was a great time except when the Walter's kid tried to give Betheny a wedgie. This time he did get his ass kicked, by her.

Happy Valentine's Day!

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The above is not the version I originally submitted. The first version was rejected because the cheaters died and the powers that be was called it a "snuff" story. I made changes hoping to meet the guidelines of this wonderful site.