Tales From Kentuckytown: A Fucking Awesome Night

By Katy

Ed Hill had been cruisin' the loop for hours. It was now nearing 9:00 and most of the town's 13-year-old girls had headed home to fight with their mother's about their maturity level. Without any sweet passengers to score, Ed decided there was nothing left to do but find his bros and get wasted. He rounded the end of the three-block drag and headed to the largest of Kentuckytown's five trailer courts.


On the way, he lazily searched his pre-sets for something tight to jam to. After skipping over Bette Midler, Bruce Springsteen, humming along with a few bars of "All the Small Things" and passing by The Police, Ed reached over for ICP's The Amazing Jeckel Brothers.

"BITCH! WHAT THE FUCK?! What are you trying to do to me? You wasn't true to me. When I was locked up you fucked something like 34 guys."

Ed was just syncing up with Violent Jay's raw rhymes, his 12-inch subs nearly blowing the windows off the Cavalier as he rolled into the park. He pulled up to lot 142, staying in the car an extra few second so the blast from the bass could alert Jon he was there.

"Hey man, shut that shit off! I don't want the fuckin' neighbors callin' the 5-O!" Jon was leaning out the storm door, wearing nothing but a dirty pair of gray sweats. A half-smoked cigarette hung from the side of his mouth and his hair was slicked back with the oil that had accumulated from three weeks without bathing.

"Shut up, motherfucker, you fuckin' puss," Ed stammered as he crawled from the Caviler and hopped up the steps to enter what was considered a ritzy single-wide trailer.

He walked into the living room and flung himself on a pile of newspapers, strewn over the couch.

"Who the hell is this fucker?" Alex said with a smile as he entered the living room from bedroom. "What up man, where have you been?"

"Shit, dude. I was just cruisin' downtown. Stopped at the park for a while to shoot the shit with Mike and Ryder. Those little fuckers think they're so tough."

"They're just fags, man," Jon piped in. He walked into the bedroom and emerged moments later with a bag and a box of aluminum foil. He plopped down on a chair near Ed and went to work grinding and rolling, constructing the prettiest thing Ed had seen since he'd played pool earlier with 15-year-old, Lindsey Allison.

"Yo, dumbshit, bum me a square!"

Alex dug into the pocket of his Jncos and threw the pack of Pall Malls straight at Ed's face. "Get a job, fuckass." Alex was only sixteen (four years younger than Ed, and five years younger than Jon), but kept in cigarettes by scoring them out of the carton in the freezer when his old lady passed out for the night.

"I already have a job showing your mom a good time," Ed laughed, hacked, and laughed again. If Alex had retorted he blocked it out. He just stared straight ahead and alternated between cigarette and pipe, while he thought about Lindsey. Sure, she was only 15, but that bitch was askin' for it. Next time he saw her he'd have to give her a beer or invite her back to Jon's to hang. He trailed off into a daze of preteens, booze, and Slipknot lyrics while he took another rip.

* * * * *

An hour later Ed got off the couch and staggered over to the fridge. He desperately searched for a beer, or anything to keep him from being alone with his own thoughts. Any thought.

"Goddamnit Jon. All you have in here is Sunny-D!"

"Chill dude, my mom just called and said she was on her way home. Bitch'll prolly have a 12-pack with her," Jon went back to watching a re-run of Walker, Texas Ranger, and ignored Ed.

Ed went back to the couch and realizing with no thoughts and no alcohol, he'd have to entertain himself somehow. He went back to the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan off the counter. He walked with an air of pretentiousness over to Alex and hit him flat on the head with the pan.

"Ed! What the fuck, man!?" Alex flinched away farther onto the floor.

Ed hit him again.

"Dude," Alex started to sob and looked to Jon for help, "Get him the fuck off of me!"

Ed started laughing and went to hit Alex again, but paused above his head. "Dude, you're a little fag." He threw down the frying pan., proud of his homemade entertainment he went off towards the bathroom to take a leak. He could hear Jon telling Alex to stop fucking crying; he didn't allow pussies into his home unless they were attached to tits.

Ed shook off and felt funny. He realized he felt a little remorse for hitting Alex for the sheer sake of amusement. The kid kept him in cigarettes, after all. Ed was suddenly overcome with a horrible feeling. What if this means I have feelings for Alex? Ed started at himself in the mirror and called himself a faggot for five straight minutes until the remorse had subsided. Once again feeling good about himself, he returned to the living room just as Jon's mom was getting home.

"I'll take those for you Cheryl," Ed grabbed the 12-pack and went to set it down in the kitchen.

"Don't think you're drinking all of that again, you lazy fuck," she yelled after him. "You can have two or three, after that back the fuck off."

Ed laughed off Cheryl's idle threats. He knew he'd probably just fuck her later to shut her up and to keep the beer comin'. He sat back down on the couch, looked around him, and felt wonderful about where he was. Just another fuckin' awesome night in Kentuckytown.