Saturday, 7 January 2012

Lucky Screams

It’s amusing how during different periods of life each person has been in a bathtub.

So in theory you can find the right door and open and see any disgusting person, naked, relaxed and with eyes closed up the point that you could stroke their heads.

And there might be a Disney dalmatian with a swim ring like this one which, well, most likely is used for Jack White’s children amusement. I wondered when would it sink and I fiddled with the ring watching my own swim ring around my finger as if it were glowing.

I sunk my head deeper into the water, hearing music turn into mute water as I dug under the fluids of myself and then I just turned sideways, closing my eyes.

I sat up to get a packet of cigarettes and I lit one, my head against the wall.

“You fine?” I heard a voice and I just inhaled slowly, counting my age and wondering how much had I smoked and how come I wouldn’t relax in this walls with the dalmatian swimming through the hills of bubbles and I traced him a path to follow and end up near my chest and I just dunked the little fucker back into the water and he appeared again.

“Yeah.” I replied looking up to see Jack. He sat near the bathtub and dug his hands into the bubbles and I just suggested him either my own cigarette or a new one. He denied to both.

The silence seemed intoxicating so I just hid under the bubbles, blowing out for air and my cigarette held out to burn and not touching it’s secondary killer. Although water wouldn’t be it’s killer it would be something like paralyzing it.

Nothing was spoken about yesterday, except Jack patting me on the head, as if I were the dictator in the bathtub looking all peaceful and I just looked at him.

“See ya, Jamie.” Yeah, let’s not talk about sex and I just finished the cigarette, the bubbles now my smoke and I blew a last smoke ring. I wondered if I could fall asleep in this bathtub, thinking deeper about fate and where would else my cock go, so I poked it with the finger wondering if I tried hard enough could I squeeze my flesh into it?

I wonder how would he greet the mother figure, which was supposed to walk in.

I kept hearing different drawers shuffling and I just closed my eyes, digging softer into the bubbles, wondering how much did my stumble cling against his body yesterday and I just exhaled, wondering how much words could’ve been written if I kept giving out every thought last night and I wondered what would Alison say as I tell her everything by the end of the day, taking that old phone we bought together, sit in the kitchen, as Kate would end up reading something or telling to the daughter and with a smoke I’d tell her.

Maybe I’d tell her that I love her in the end, a typical end to our recent conversations, you just have to keep the tension up, so that when I’ll be on my deathbed, we’ll fuck or not, to just give hell some sparkle to see.

Music seems like a whore house really, before we had groupies now we put them in the band just more often and that’s it. Only I don’t shag my groupie, instead a shag a model and when I’m too high some bloke’s hair reminds me of hers.

When it had grown a bit as she decided to grow it, maybe to stash that kiss of ours and those few dates, when I declared that our music was just going wrong, as we started sleeping and we just stopped it, her hair growing and my clothes going brighter as if well, really, I wasn’t getting shagged, I don’t know.

I slid deeper, Jack still ruffling his drawers and then he ran out of the bedroom, carrying a double barrel pistol and just wonder if he had more dalmatians. I wonder if he could have a bloody whole army of them.

“Jack, what’s with that double barrel?” I ask him and then he just enters the bathroom and I sit up. Then the door bells silences his answer and he hastily presses a kiss against my lips, I’m not high, but I kiss him back, even if his nails are a different shape.

“You’re too complicated.” I yell back, wondering if I could get a deck of cards and just play solitaire on my stomach.

“You’re the one who isn’t banging Alison.” Maybe I’m too high.

“As a matter of fact I did, a few times.” I get out another cigarette and I wait for Meg to join the final scene if there is a gun, it would shoot and well, I think I’ll just hide in my bathtub, so I do, wondering how loud would the voices be.




I wonder if I should yell “Jamie” to show up and then with a towel around me, sticking my fingers where my cock has been yesterday on the second trip and laugh with a mouth wide open instead of holding my palm against my mouth to pretend to be hiding my emotions.

“How did the White Stripes break up go past?” I say out load, feeding the water with my words and I wonder if Meg would be in red and Jack would be in White, still clinging heavily onto her last name which he had gotten and killed in the end something with quid, even if he doesn’t seem too british to me.

Water into my nose.

I cough it out, sitting up and watching Meg enter with two ponytails, maybe I am still high and she looks nice in some dark blue coat and a white sweater underneath, I just nod and cough louder, the dalmatian attacking my arm viciously.

“Oh, hi, Lucky.” And she pets the fucking dalmatian, thank God he is not on my cock, I’ve fucked enough breathing items yesterday, considering that blow job I got from Kate, so I just smile at Meg who looks back at Jack with the shot gun and just staring behind us. Maybe he is high as well and I sink lower.

“Is it Wednesday?” Is the main course to the water as bubbles go there and Meg freaks, grabbing me by the shoulders and lifting me slightly from the water, her sleeves now in water and Jack holds the gun above us.

Then he just smiles.

“You’ve had it in your mouth, Jack.” Meg says, maybe recalling the imagery when she opened the door and Jack was standing on his knees, eyes closed, gun in mouth, trying to swallow the thing, I wondered what was the imagery in his head, how phallic the imagery was and if I should have dug the gun deeper pulling his hair with my hands.

“And now i-it’s on your back.” And I wonder how they looked at sixteen even if I have seen photos and I can still see Jack maybe in a hand made Led Zeppelin t-shirt and Meg in same looking style clothes and she would look just like Meg White, really, maybe with some candy scattered everywhere, well, that’s how imagined her household until I walked in to be surprised really, but I asked for candy anyway just to soothe that I imagined it right, closing my eyes and then opening to get a cigarette.

“What happened?” And she just looks a bit lost, mislead, but beautiful at both me and the dalmatian and the dalmatian just clings on to the waves and going slowly to the plug which I have yanked out with my fingers. I lift myself up, revealing myself, Meg quickly fixing her gaze on a spot.

“Sorry, sorry, just fixing the fucking plug.” And I do, my fingers shaking slightly as our teenage motherly figure gets hugged by Jack and I just wonder if I should let all the water pour out.

Maybe everyone is heterosexual after all or maybe it’s just me and Jack who kisses her neck as Meg eases, but the pistol is still held firmly in his hand.

I pull the plug out, Lucky swimming backwards again from me, but closer to the abyss and I wonder if I should follow him, but I keep myself there as Meg just watches me silently.

I wonder if when they undress I should start wanking to make it look like a threesome, just shrug myself to Kate and tell Alison everything under some smoke and I think that it should be best, so I wait for the water to drain, waiting for Jack and instead I see him loading the gun, so I put the plug back.

People are curious for murders.

“What happened, Jack?”

And then I just keep looking at both of them, Jack divorced, Meg married, both with children and me as well, with an audience of a dog and a bloke. I wonder how much more will Meg repeat the question and I just cling onto Lucky, the dog.

I wonder if I should close his eyes along with my own as the gun is between both me and Meg.

I wonder to whose death would I be talking to.

And there is a shot.

And the water goes out.

The coat falls down.

The gun falls.

And Lucky screams.

I stand up, rubbing the blood off my face.

I get out, thinking to tell Alison that some people actually do shoot themselves for love.


Thank you for waiting this had also been requested by an anon. I hope you'll enjoy it!

The initial idea was Jamie and Jack sleeping then Jack killing Meg because he had cheated on her and then after laying for hours in a bathtub with Icky Thump, the idea of Jamie in a bathtub jumped in with the first few phrases about people in bathtubs.

Lucky was actually a bathtub toy I had before when I was kid, so instead of using a rubber duckie I used Lucky and well, he turned out cut and ended up in the title. He had Lucky written on his collar, actually.

It ended up being a Jamie/Jack/Meg though, but still, hope you liked it, really and thank you.

Feel free to request.

Axe For Cork Extraction


  1. It was sad, but I liked it a lot.

  2. Thank you:3 It's one of my favorite stories I've written :3


  3. this is the most confusing/weird thing i've ever read

  4. thank you:D was intended to be :3