February Sucks Karma Is A Demon

February Sucks - Karma Becomes a Demon

well people, i had to do it. like so many others i was enthralled by George Anderson's tale and after reading nearly every sequel, the idea of my sequel came to mind.

i hope you enjoy it!

i had fun writing it. Comments are welcome, even the stupid, anonymous ones which are just designed to be personally insulting. i get a laugh out of them as well.

Read on McDuff......

Jim Ferguson was seething with rage. How dare that entitled bastard just take Linda, his wife, out to the dance floor and claim her as his own! He had obviously done this before. It was all too slick. Did Linda know about this beforehand? He knew that no matter what happened, his marriage to Linda WAS IN DEEP TROUBLE.

Having enough of the indecent spectacle of Marc with his hands all over Linda and Linda's obvious enthralment with the whole situation, he decided to do something about it. He put his drink down and started to make his way to the back of the dance floor where the two had tried to hide. He had not gone three steps when Dee intervened. She actually pleaded with him to let Linda 'have this one night' as if it was her right to be able to step out of their marriage just to experience what it would be like with a famous football star.

"Jim, let her have this. She has given you many years of loyalty and two wonderful children. Give her some space to experience something different. Something she has dreamed about, fantasied about. You know she loves you and will come back to you tomorrow. Give her this, please!"

He looked at her as if she was a leper and roughly shoved her hands off him. Dave, Dee's husband saw the interchange and quickly came over.

"Jim, that's my wife buddy. Don't manhandle her, or you'll have me to answer to!"

"Dave, I would advise you to let it be. You should be having this discussion with your wife. If you're on board with what she is proposing, she won't be your wife much longer, if I know you. Now get out of the way, or I won't be responsible for what might happen."

Jim left the two ex-friends and continued towards his wife, now pressed tightly against Marc's body and her head resting just under his shoulders. The look on her face was one he had seen many times before. It was her look of ecstasy. That's when he noticed one of Marc's arms was in between their bodies and it was obvious that his hand was on her breast, even though they tried to hide it.

Jim went straight to the band leader who had a huge smirk on his face. Were Marc and he in cahoots? It was strange how the music went to all slow numbers when Marc had his woman. He pleaded with the band leader to stop the music, but he was simply ignored. The band leader looked at Jim as if he were a piece of dog dropping on his shoe. Throughout all of this, Marc and Linda were oblivious to what was going on. They only had eyes and time for each other. Did Linda's face just get that tell-tale flush? Did she just have an orgasm? Right there on the dance floor!

Jim made a beeline again for the two. As he approached, two large men grabbed him from behind and frog marched him to the bar. They pressed him hard against the bar and said quite clearly,

"Listen buddy. You have a choice to make here. Either you let our friend Marc have his way with that woman, or you and us will continue this conversation outside. Your choice!"

Jim realised that he could not win this battle. He knew that there were some situations that you had to walk away from, at least seem to walk away from. The anger that was building inside him had not fully surfaced yet, so he was able to assume the role of a whimp. He cowered down and replied, "Sure guys. I get it. Let me go and get a drink or two from this wonderful lady here."

The two goons looked at each other and smiled. They let him go.

"Hey cuck, if you are in the mood to buy drinks, get us some too."

They laughed and went back to their table to sit down and enjoy the Linda and asshole show.

When they walked away, Jim was stunned. This was obviously a set up. His so-called friends had set Linda up with that prick Marc. She knew what was going to happen and assumed that their 'friends' would pacify me enough to let it happen.

"Bullshit!"

Jim was never a man who relished physical conflict. He rather let his good nature and common sense enable him to avoid the macho crap. But this was different. He knew however, that any confrontation with these two football goons would only end with him in serious pain. He needed to do something else.

As he was already at the bar, he asked the young attendant, who was looking at him rather sheepishly at this point, for three triple shots of the strongest alcohol in the bar. She thought for a moment and said, "Polmos Spirytus Rektyfikowany!"

"What the hell is that?" Jim asked.

"It's a Polish vodka. 192 proof. That's 92% alcohol."

"Perfect!" Jim said grimly. "I will visit my two friends first. Leave one here please and I will be back shortly."

When Jim tried to pay for them, she told him they were on the house, as he was tonight's victim of that asshole LeValiere.

This time Jim made it obvious that he was making for the two goons that apprehended him before. They stood as soon as he got near their table. Jim raised one of the drinks in salute to the two bullies. "Here's to the mighty Reds!" They smiled as Jim drank a small amount. He then took the two drinks and walked towards the two players. They smiled. They actually thought that he had capitulated and was now offering them a drink, like all good cucks should do. They again approached him, arms outstretched and huge smirks on their faces.

However, when Jim was just the right distance away, he threw the contents of each glass straight into the eyes of the idiots. He didn't wait to see the result. He immediately turned around, went back to the bar, grabbed his third drink and made his way to Linda and Marc. If he had stayed and watched the two players, he would have seen a picture of absolute chaos. They fell to their seats frantically rubbing their eyes. High proof alcohol was not designed to be applied straight to anyone's eyes. In fact early eye surgeons used a similar concoction to physically dissolve the outer layer of the eye. These two would need to go to a medical facility, and very soon, to flush the offending liquid from their eyes. Even with prompt treatment, it would be weeks before the outer layer of their eyes would recover. Oh well, Karma's a bitch, but she is a downright demon from hell when she gets some help!

Marc and Linda were still ensconced in a quiet area of the floor. Linda seemed in a trance. Jim knew that look. It was post-orgasmic bliss. His anger now knew no bounds. He boldly approached the pair and tapped big Marc on his shoulder.

"I think I'll take over from here."

Marc looked as if he was confused for a second. He quickly turned towards his table, obviously looking for his intervention buddies. Not seeing them, he turned back to Jim and tried to push him away.

Big mistake for him! He got the same treatment as his two goons. The look on his face was priceless. Jim knew he could move quickly on the football field, but this was magic in motion. He staggered back, pushing Linda away so roughly, that she fell to the floor.

"What the FUCK!" he screamed. He then raced about, crashing into tables as he careened from one area to another all the while frantically scratching his eyes and trying to dislodge the offending substance. He ended up running, almost at full speed, into the band podium. The stage was exactly the height of his knees. Jim thought everyone in the venue heard the horrific crack as his knees buckled under him. He lay on the floor, attempting to get up. However, every move he made to get up only moved his smashed knees further and he screamed, yelled and cried in pain.

"Someone dial emergency quickly! Someone PLEASE!"

Strangely no one moved. They all had seen his antics before.

It was Dee who finally did the deed.

While all this was going on, Jim had moved to where Linda was still lying in a daze on the dance floor, her pretty blue dress dishevelled and not very modest in that position. Some patrons could be seen taking pictures with their cameras. Jim only noticed then that she wasn't wearing any panties,and, to add insult to injury, one of her breasts was exposed due to Marc's frantic fondling.

Jim had seen and felt enough. He shouted in the loudest voice he could muster given the closeness he was to tears.

"Everyone! Attention please!"

They all quietened down. "This should be good," many people thought.

"I would like to introduce you to this slut, Linda. I know many of you who come here often would only have recognised her as Marc Dickhead's conquest for this Friday night. Well she was more than that. Up until fifteen minutes ago, she was my wife. She was the woman of my life. The only woman in my life. The woman I shared the joy of raising two wonderful children with. The woman, the woman I trusted with my heart!" He paused here. The emotional turmoil was taking its toll.

Linda was still in a daze and, listening to Jim's words began to smile and act coyly with the praise. Unfortunately, she didn't quite register the 's' word. All she heard were the praiseworthy ones. That wasn't going to last.

"I said that she WAS my wife, but no longer. Linda, could I have your hand please?"

She offered her right hand, but he took her left. As she tried to stand with his help, Jim deftly slid her engagement and wedding rings off her finger. She was momentarily confused, gazing open-mouthed at her now bare ring finger. That's when Jim pushed her back to the floor. Everyone gasped, but Jim continued.

"I gave everything for this woman, my love, my time, my heart, my blood, my sweat and my tears. Tonight was supposed to be a special night for us. See that pretty blue dress? She supposedly bought it to show off to me, her husband. But it wasn't. Apparently it was setup so that blind dickhead over there would know who to ask to dance. She wore it for him! Oh and see the fact that she has no panties on! I know some of you have pics, and the fact that she has no bra on? Well she did that for him. She took them off last time she visited the bathroom with her co-conspirator Dee. That slut over there.

Well you are all witnesses to what I am about to say. She is no longer my wife. She ceased to be my wife when she blatantly humiliated me on this dance floor in front of you all. I will not be a cuckold. I will not be disrespected in such a cruel betrayal. Monday I will start divorce proceeding on the grounds of adultery. I am sure many of you witnessed the orgasm she tried to hide in the quiet area of the dance floor. I just ask one favour of you.

Could you text me your contact details, so that I can call you up in court to witness to my claim for divorce on the grounds of adultery? Oh, if any of you have camera recordings of this sad spectacle, send it to me also.

My phone number is, get your phones ready, 54367234. Thanks."

Jim saw many fingers typing the number as he turned to leave. As an aside, he whispered as aggressively as possible to his now ex-wife to be, "Don't come home. Stay with your so-called friends. If you, or any one of them come to what used to be our house, I won't be responsible for the mountain of hurt that will be piled on you!"

The adrenaline high Jim was on at that moment overshadowed the extreme anger he felt. Anger at his slut of a wife, soon to be ex-wife, anger at the group he thought were their friends, anger at the arrogant prick who thought he could take what he wanted, namely his wife, anger at this place, Morrisons, for the way they supported his cruel habits, even anger at the band leader who worked with the prick. Which reminded Jim. Before he walked out, he went straight to the band leader who was trying to gather the scattered equipment together. Jim grabbed his collar, twisted slowly until his face started to get red and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Listen scum. I saw what you and that sick bastard had organised. I would advise you to leave town. I will find out where you live and come to visit you late one night and we might have a one-on-one chat!" Jim whispered this so only he could hear it. Threats are still against the law. He pushed him back into his band gear. Not one of the band bothered to help him. Maybe they were tired of the shit he pulled as well.

Jim walked out of that den of iniquity with his head held high. He was not a cuckold and never would be. Some shitheads learnt a valuable lesson tonight. As he walked, he could hear a loud clapping and cheering from behind him. Many regulars who knew what went on each Friday night, were cheering him. Jim! Ordinary old Jim. The man who threw sand in the bully's face! Well, not sand exactly, but very high grade alcohol. Their drink was on Jim.

The young bar attendant winked at Jim as he was leaving and handed him a napkin. "How kind," he thought, until he saw a phone number clearly written on it. Jim may have jettisoned a cheating slut of a wife, but maybe things would be brighter in the future.

Jim made his way to the hotel room they had booked. This room which held so much promise for a beautiful night with the love of his life. This room which now seemed sleazy and dirty. The lingerie which was spread on the bed, supposedly for him alone, looked diseased. He didn't even want to touch it. He did though. He wondered what to do with it. Then it struck him! She shit on our marriage, I will repay that act in kind on her precious lingerie.

He gathered his gear, left hers and exited the hotel.

Next was an Uber to Mrs Potter. She was an ever-reliable older neighbour who would always be ready to babysit the neighbourhood children. When Jim rang the doorbell, poor old Mrs Potter had a hell of a fright.

"Jim? Is everything alright? Do you know what time it is? I thought you would be picking up Emma and Tommy tomorrow. They have only just settled. Where is Linda? Is she ok? Jim?"

Jim gave her the readers digest version of what went down. Mrs Potter went pale and gathered the sleepy kids to head home.

As they were leaving, she placed her arm on Jim's shoulder. "You poor man Jim. No one deserves that level of disrespect and betrayal. You know where I am if you ever need me to look after the kids while you sort this out. Take care Jim."

Jim placed the sleepy kids in the car and headed back home. It was a Friday night he would never forget! He put the kids into their own beds and searched the net for an after hours locksmith.

The locksmith wasn't too impressed with the late call, but, Jim reasoned, the man did state 24/7 on his website. He arrived one hour later and took another hour and a half to redo all of the locks including changing the garage code. The locksmith did get a six pack of beers for his trouble over and above his fee.

While the locksmith did his thing, Jim gathered as much of Linda's stuff as he could find and unceremoniously dumped them into large black plastic garbage bags. "A fitting receptacle for her shit!" He thought wryly. These bags were then stacked roughly in the back yard. The locksmith smiled as he saw what was happening. He had seen similar shit like this before.

Jim now just had to wait for the proverbial poop to hit the fan. As he couldn't sleep, he found an online divorce site and completed all of the paperwork. He entered the financials where asked, names and ages of dependants, reason for the divorce petition, etc. and at the end of the million questions, he could actually print out the documentation, with the proviso that he show it to a lawyer as soon as possible, preferably before presenting the documents. Now he could sleep!

It was four in the morning when the pounding began. The children woke up in a panic and started screaming. Jim went to them and calmed them as much as he could before going downstairs to face the music.

"What do you want?" he shouted through the front door.

"Jim, you bastard! Let me in now!" she yelled.

"I don't think so slut. Go back to your boyfriend. All of your stuff is in bags in the back yard. If I were you, I'd take what you can. The neighbourhood dogs have a habit of scrounging through anything that smells like food. Oops! I accidentally spilled some meat sauce on the bottom bags. I'd get busy if I were you."

"Jim! How could you? How could you be so vindictive? What you did to my clothes in our hotel room was nothing short of childish! It was only a dance and you had to go nuclear. Do you know that Marc needs urgent surgery on his knees and may never play football again, and his two team mates will not be able to play the next three games this season? Their coach is extremely pissed and is talking of suing you for loss of play time as well as medical expenses! How could you do this? It just isn't like you!"

"Oh, I get it now. You decided to spend time with your lover and his two paid monkeys and got the low down on how they are. You even got to speak with their coach? You are kidding me, slut! Did you think to even check up on your husband? Maybe see how he is after your betrayal? Did I even get a thought in there anywhere?"

Linda turned to her ride. It was her father. He stayed quiet until that point.

"Jim. We've known each other a while. I always had a great deal of time for you. I think we like and respect each other. What has caused this? What is so bad that you are kicking Linda out without a glance? Don't the last happy years of marriage count for anything? Please reconsider. Talk to Linda and at least try to sort it out!"

Jim looked at Bill, Linda's dad. He did like him and did respect him. He worried about how what he had to tell him would affect him. He wasn't a young man. Jim decided that he had to know the truth, or forever more, he would be the fall guy for Linda's betrayal. He would not accept that.

"Bill. What has Linda told you about what happened last night?"

Linda went white. "No dad don't!" She pleaded.

"Don't be silly Linda. We have to get Jim's side of the story as well. What's the harm in that? Go ahead Jim. I'm listening."

Linda didn't know where to look. She collapsed onto the love seat they had on the front patio and held her head in her hands. Jim thought he heard quiet sobbing. He looked at her, sitting there. They often just sat together right where she was. They were magic moments. He wondered if they would ever happen again. "No. They wouldn't!" he determined. She has thrown all of that away. And for what? A chance to have a pseudo sex session with a famous football player in public on a dance floor? Sorry bitch! The truth is going to come out.

"Bill, what I'm about to tell you is the truth. First tell me what bullshit she told you about what happened."

"Jim, she said that you went all nuts when she had a close dance with a famous football player. When you came over to cut in, two of his buddies thought that you would threaten him, so they pulled you away. Then you went nuclear and left Linda sprawled out on the dance floor. That's what Linda told her mum and me. Now what do you have to add to that?"

"Bill, you and I need to sit down out the back. You won't be able to take what I'm about to tell you standing up. I'll meet you on the back veranda, away from the kids. They're already upset with the whole situation."

"Is it as bad as that son?"

"Worse!" Jim replied sombrely.

When they were seated, he handed him a straight scotch. Jim knew he drank that occasionally. His own was a bourbon.

"Bill, did you notice that pretty blue dress Linda was wearing tonight? Well she told me a lie about why she was wearing it. She said it was especially for me, as a special occasion. I think that was part of the betrayal she was to lay on me last night. I think she wore it for that arrogant narcissistic prick, Marc. Her friend Dee hinted to me that this was going to be Linda's special night all right, but not with me!