Chapter 5

Jeff never made it to Work the next morning. He nursed a hangover all day, then had to force himself to pick up his second hand Plymouth at the garage, shave, shower, and dress in the white dinner jacket that Mrs. Simms had had delivered at the Beauty Salon the previous day. Except for slightly bloodshot eyes, he looked as handsome as ever. After he'd driven to the woman's palatial home in suburban Bel-Air and had parked on the spacious grounds, he walked up to the front door and rang the bell. A butler ushered him into a massive luxuriously furnished living room. Not being acquainted with anyone there, he walked around the room, looking for Mrs. Simms. He found her conversing with friends. She was gorgeously gowned in blue satin that was very low cut, exposing nicely shaped breasts for her age.

Jeff walked up to her and she smiled happily. "Oh, there you are, dear boy!"

Jeff bowed graciously. "You look very charming."

The woman had imbibed lots of liquor and her voice was loud. "Ha, ha-Jeffrey-it's Melissa, remember? My, but you do look handsome. You should wear dinner clothes more often. Come, let me show you off-I mean, introduce you to some of my influential friends."

Jeff's face reddened with embarrassment as her guests stared at him in amusement. "That would be nice, Melissa."

She took his arm, leading him around the room. "There are quite a few ladies from the movie colony here, and possibly you might get some of them as patrons." She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Can I get you a drink, Mrs. ...uh, I mean, Melissa?"

"No, dear boy-I can't drink anymore until after my surprise."

The butler intervened. "Excuse me, madam, Mister Privytally said he's ready."

Mrs. Simms smiled excitedly at Jeff. "Oh, excuse me, honey-just circulate. I have something to attend to."

Within seconds, Jeff was surrounded by several attractive young ladies who'd been eyeing him. It was like being caught in a whirlpool of big tits, big asses, and big bushy cunts, all wanting to pounce on him. He could smell sex and perfume intermingling Hands squeezed his arms, touched his face, stroked his hair as he stood foolishly, stammering incoherent words.

Mrs. Simms was now at the opposite end of the room in a deep discussion with Mr. Privytally. He was the artistic musical director type of individual with a thick head of hair growing long on his neck; very dignified and dead serious. At intervals, Mrs. Simms glanced over her shoulder at Jeff and the attention he was receiving from the young girls. Then bringing her secret discussion to an abrupt end, she returned to Jeff and pulled him away from the girls with a quick grasp of his arm.

Jeff was relieved because he'd gotten a helluva hardon, yet under the circumstances, he'd had to grin and bear it. He wondered what would have happened had these young sex-pots cornered him alone in another place-then had all tried to rape him at once! The thought was thrilling, yet frightening!

The butler quickly arranged folding chairs for the guests as Mrs. Simms led Jeff out of earshot of the girls. "I don't intend to let you be snatched up by those man eating females, dear boy!"

Just then Mr. Privytally rushed up. "Are you ready, now, Mrs. Simms?"

"Yes, Mister Privytally. Make the announcement ... I'll see you later, Jeffrey." She then flitted through a door and disappeared and Mr. Privytally, ignoring Jeff, walked to the middle of the room and cleared his throat noisily. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?"

A hushed silence fell over the room as he continued. "I have a pleasant surprise in store for you! I have been tutoring your gracious hostess for several years, and with the greatest pleasure I wish to announce her debut. If you'll give me your undivided attention, she will commence with the recital."

Mr. Privytally in a very serious, dignified manner, took his place at the piano and struck up the opening chords of "The last rose of summer." At that cue, Mrs. Simms made a grand entrance through French glass doors, and in the true tradition of a Prima Donna, took long strides over to the front of the piano. She then clasped her hands and began to sing: "Tis the last rose of summer ... "

Continuing in a shrill, off key voice, she interpolated trills and cadenzas which were not in the score. Her voice cracked on the high notes, and she sang pitifully out of tempo. She was obviously using the score from the opera, Marta, which was arranged for a coloratura soprano.

The aria came to an abrupt end and everybody applauded politely.

Mrs. Simms did a curtsey and smiled happily. "Thank you, oh, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Mister Privytally informs me that I possess a truly phenomenal voice. My range is unlimited, and I can undertake varied roles on the operatic stage, ranging from the coloratura to the dramatic, and I plan to make my public debut next spring in New York."

She paused for another cute curtsey, then continued, "For the second of my three selections this evening, I will perform 'Largo a Factotum' from The Barber of Seville."

A guest's voice was heard as he leaned over to his wife and said, "Wasn't that aria written for a bass baritone in the opera?"

Mr. Privytally stopped playing, glanced over from the piano, and motioned for silence and a hush fell over the room. He then started to play again and Mrs. Simms broke into her "Figaro-Figaro Ca-Figaro la...."

The pathetic woman could hardly carry the melody, and Mr. Privytally was playing either ahead of, or behind her. Among the guests a few could be seen crossing their fingers as once again she came to the end, this time, out of breath.

She smiled at her guests. "For my third and last number, I have chosen the selection; The Mad Scene from Lucia di Lammermoor. But before I take on this difficult task, I want to show my deep appreciation for your interest in my voice." Reaching to the top of the piano, she removed a bouquet of roses and Mr. Privytally played an opening cue. As he did so, she held the bouquet of roses in her arms, started to sing, and at the same time, walked through her guests, giving each man a rose. She completely ignored the women.

She was tugging at her gown as she gave out the roses. The men were smiling in amusement while these shenanigans were going on. When all the roses were disposd of, still tugging at her dress, she made her way back to the piano, ready to hit the high note at the ending. As she desperately strained to hold this extremely high note, the elastic on her black lace panties broke and they fell to her ankles.

The guests applauded loudly and laughed as the frustrated woman stepped out of them, then tossed them over to Jeff. His face turned bright red as he tucked them into his pocket and the beautiful girls giggled and made low lewd remarks that he didn't miss overhearing.

Mr. Privytally banged his fist on the piano and once again a hush fell over the room. "I think that all you have been very rude to a charming lady who has through no fault of her own had an unfortunate accident, and....

He didn't get a chance to finish his speech as just then Mrs. Simms had another unfortunate, uncontrolled accident.

She farted loud and clear!

The guests scattered, holding their noses in self defense!

The prostrate woman rushed from the room in frustrated tears admidst giggles and snickers. Then there was the mad shuffle of chairs being folded, Mr. Privytally and the butler seeing the guests off, then opening the windows to let in some fresh air.

Jeff remained behind. He felt sorry for Mrs. Simms. He told the butler to get her, and the man disappeared. Then after Jeff had placed her black lace panties on a table and had lit a cigarette, she came in. She was smiling and acting as if the previous scene had never happened.

Jeff crushed out his cigarette in an ash tray and stood ready to leave. "Good night, Melissa. It was a pleasure. I enjoyed myself immensely."

She took several steps toward him, wringing her hands. "Oh, you can't leave yet, my dear. I have something to discuss with you privately."

"It's getting late. I really should go."

"I won't have it. Were you surprised at my voice?"

"It was out of this world!"

"If you thought that was something. I have another surprise for you."

"What is it?"

"I've just completed a two thousand dollar dance course, and I did it in half the allotted time! My dance instructor told me that I can now qualify to be a dancing instructress-especially in The Twist."

She demonstrated by twisting her body almost out of joint. Her hips were gyrating, her titties flopping and her ass grinding. She then raised her gown and performed several burlesque bumps-throwing her pantiless torso at Jeff and his eyes fell on a wide, bleached blonde hairy cunt. She reached down and spread her pussylips apart as she licked her lips and rolled her eyes about until only the whites were visible.

In spite of himself, Jeff got a hard-on for the second time that night. There was something so damned lustful about the scene. She was still a sexy woman-had probably been quite a swinger in her youth.

Having drunk several stiff shots of whiskey when she'd left her guests, she was also DRUNK!

She staggered and held on to a chair for support. Jeff rushed up to her and held her arm. "Easy does it, Melissa."

Her gown had fallen down covering her big cunt. "Will you be all right? I must go now." She held onto him. "No, I'll behave. Please-don't leave yet."

"Very well, but try to control yourself, baby."

She staggered over to a Hi-Fi and put on a record. She turned the switch and the Mood for Love started to play. "Come on, Jeffrey. Let's try a fox trot."

Before Jeff could say anything, she grabbed him close to her. Her arms wound about his neck, her cheek pressed to his, and she fitted her midsection tightly against him, pushing and wriggling until he could feel the heat of her cunt rubbing against the bulge in his pants. His prick was swelling and throbbing as he placed his right arm around her waist, his left arm out, holding her small manicured hand. As he led her up and down the room, she sang into his ear along with the music. "I'm in the mood for love, simply because you're near me-I'm in the mood for love. Tra-la, la, la, la, la, Tra-la, la."

"OUCH!"

"Oh, dear boy, how awkward of me. I have two left feet tonight. Did I hurt your poor, itsy bitsy toesy?"

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have gotten my big foot in the way."

Jeff stepped away from her. "Really! I must leave now, Melissa. I have to get up at seven."

Mrs. Simms walked over and turned off the Hi-Fi. "Don't be a kill joy, Jeffrey. You can't leave yet. I'm just starting to have some fun! I was so bored with all those squares at the party. At least have a few drinks with me before you go."

"I really think...."

"This is the first opportunity we've had to be alone."

"We were alone the last time I came here. Anyway, tomorrow's a busy day for me."

"Take tomorrow off."

"I've been goofing off lately. I'll get fired if I do."

"Nonsense! Mister Brian wouldn't dare fire you. I'd put him out of business. Enjoy yourself, dear boy, it's later than you think."

"It sure is-I mean-well; I'll have one drink with you. Then I really must go!"

A secret smile played about the aging glamour girl's lips. "Wonderful! Now you just sit down and relax while I mix you one."

Jeff went over to a long, low divan and sank into the softness of it and yawned, and Mrs. Simms turned her back to him at the liquor cabinet. She poured half a decanter of whiskey into a tall glass, then squirted a small amount of seltzer into it, dropped in an ice cube, and slipped in a mickey. For herself, she measured half a jigger of whiskey and filled the glass with seltzer water. She then turned around, a sly look on her face. "You do like bourbon, don't you?"

"That'll be fine, thank you."

She stood before him, giggled like a school girl, and handed him the drink. He sipped on it as she toyed with hers. "This is my bewitching brew, mixed especially for you," she giggled again.

"Don't tell me that besides your other attributes, you're also a poetress."

"Perhaps I'm a poet and don't know it! Ha, ha-I hope you won't be offended if I sit at this end of the divan."

"Not at all, Melissa."

The old woman had decided to change her strategy and throw him completely off guard. "I want you to feel completely at ease, my dear," she assured him. "After all, the last time you were here, I did make such an idiot of myself."

"You were inebriated, but you acted like a perfect lady."

"God only knows how I might have acted had I not passed out. 'Honey Bee' can really sting at times. Tip-tip."

Jeff took a long drink. It was so strong that he coughed. "Excuse me, but this drink really packs a wallop."

"I made it extra strong for the road." Jeff glanced at his wrist watch, then finished the drink quickly and stood up. "I must go now." The mickey hit!

Jeff swayed unsteadily on his feet, then sat down again. He tried to focus his eyes as he held his head. "That drink really hit me. I feel as drunk as a skunk."

"Now who's the poet?"

"Let's skip the humor. Damn, but my head feels fuzzy."

"Can't handle your liquor, huh?"

"Sure-but one drink's never affected me this way before. I'm actually dizzy."

"Why don't you stay here tonight?"

"Perhaps I should. I don't think I can drive. I'm seeing double."

"Come with me, then, and I'll show you to your room."

Jeff got to his feet. His legs were wobbly. He was starting to suspect that she'd doped him, but he couldn't prove it. He could be wrong! All the drinking he'd done all week could have built up his system, causing this one to hit extra hard! He staggered after her. She was still playing the part of the lady.

"I don't know if I should impose on you like this, Melissa."

"Nonsense! Now don't you worry about a thing, dear boy. 'Honey Bee' will take good care of you."

They had reached a spacious beautifully decorated bedroom. Mrs. Simms entered it ahead of Jeff and turned on a small lamp on the night table. She looked at him fondly. "Good night and pleasant dreams, Jeffrey." She then hurried out without a backward glance and closed the door behind her.

Jeff sighed with relief that he'd gotten rid of her so easily. All he wanted to do was sleep off his dizzy floating feeling. He staggered over to the bed and pulled back the covers. He then removed his coat, shirt, shoes and socks. Then his trousers and underwear. Naked, he managed to make it over to the sink in a corner of the room. "Damn it," he said aloud. "My head's going around like a carousel." He turned on the spigot and splashed cold water on his face.

Suddenly as if from out of nowhere there was a loud, rastling sound. He turned off the spigot and listened. What in the hell can that be? He thought. I must be drunker than I think I am.

Just then, a small bird swooped down from its perch on a wide picture frame and as Jeff wiped his face, it landed on his bare shoulder.

He thought: I must be going nuts! If I didn't know where I was, I'd swear the talons of a bird were digging into my shoulder. Just then the bird talked into his ear. "Bad girl, Anita; bad girl, Anita. Off the sink-off the sink."

"Holy smoke! What the hell-it's a parakeet. Shoo-get off!" He swung at the bird with the towel, but missed it, and the bird flew over to the dresser, perched on it, and Jeff went over to the bed and sat down. It must have escaped from its cage some place in the house.

With that thought, the door flew open and Mrs. Simms walked in. She was wearing a shortie micro-mini robe of sheer pink chiffon and was barefoot. Every detail of her body was visible. The full, firm, cone shaped breasts without a sag. Amazing for her age. Although her figure was thin, it was shapely. Had a bag been put over her head, it could have been the smooth skinned body of a young girl. The only flaw was her scrawny legs and bony-ugly-protruding knees.

Jeff's mouth flew open in surprise and a dumbfounded expression crossed his handsome face.

The woman smiled seductively. "I was lonely, and I thought we could talk for a little while," she said, cat like. She strolled over to the bed, then sat down beside the confused young man, eyeing between his legs.

Hurriedly, Jeff lay back, pulling the covers over his nakedness. He looked up at her with a startled, trapped expression. "You'd better leave, Mrs. Simms. Can't you see I'm ready to go to sleep? And by the way, your bird's out of its cage and perched over there on the dresser."

"Forget about the bird!"

"Like hell I will! I have a fetish about a bird flying in a closed room, so get it and yourself out of here so I can get some shut eye."

Mrs. Simms let her short robe fall apart. Her breasts were completely exposed now. She parted her legs, and her thick bush was spread before him. However, he was too upset to get aroused, and his cock remained limp, nestled against his balls. "Why don't you put something decent on," he said with annoyance.

"This is my courting outfit. Don't you find it irresistable, dear boy?"

"I think you're being ridiculous!" he snapped. He then watched her as she got off the bed and walked around the room turning on the various lamps.

She then returned to the bed and sat on the edge of it again, giving Jeff a peculiar smile. "How can you treat me so shabbiily? Don't you realize I'm in love with you, Jeffrey?" She was edging up nearer to his head, gazing into his eyes and her breath was coming out in short gasps.

Jeff crouched and pulled the covers high under his chin. His eyes were wide open, staring at her.

The woman sighed deeply. "I've been crazy about you for a long time, and now that we're together, won't you take me in your arms and make me feel like a desirable woman?"

"Mrs. Simms! Stop acting like an adolescent; it isn't becoming to you at all." He then shouted, "Hell's fire! What's that?" Another bird had flown over to him and had perched on the pillow close to his head.

Mrs. Simms glanced over at the little creature lovingly. "Oh, that's one of my other birds."

"What the hell's going on here?"

The woman spoke proudly. "This is my bird room. I love birds and I want them to be free."

"You're nuts!"

Just then a loud, rustling sound seemed to be coming from the ceiling. Jeff looked up quickly as still another bird swooped toward him. "Whoops! This one's heading straight for me!" He ducked his head under the covers just as the bird landed next to the other one.

"Don't be frightened, dear boy, my little birdies won't harm you."

Jeff peeked over the covers. "How many flying vultures do you have in this room?"

"Flying vultures-really, at last count I had twenty-two, and I love every one of the little darlings."

Now the other birds who'd been aroused by the bright lights, started to fly around the room in all directions, landing on lamp shades and perching on articles of furniture. There was an assortment of all sizes, species, and colors.

Jeff looked up at a bird that was much larger than the rest of them. He pointed to it. "That one's like a dive bomber. I think he's gone crazy!"

"Oh no! And it's a she not a he. That's my favorite one. Maisie-come to Mama."

The bird perched obediently on the finger she extended as several more birds swooped down and landed on the bed.

Jeff ducked. "Now the bastards are shitting all over the place!" He threw back the covers, making an attempt to get out of bed.

That was when Mrs. Simms made her move!

She threw herself at him, wound her arms around his neck and her glazed eyes bore into his. "We're yours-me and my birds! Quench the thirst of longing: be my lover!" A long pink tongue darted out, licking all over Jeff's face. Her arms were strong. She had taken on the strength of three men.

Jeff struggled with her, trying to untangle her arms. "Get away from me, you old bitch! You're as nutty as a fruitcake!" He was powerless. His body felt weak from the drug. He had no strength left in his wrists.

Mrs. Simms had one of her tits rammed into his mouth now. "Suck it!" she shrieked. Spittle was dripping from the sides of her mouth. She was hissing like a snake approaching its mate.

"Goddamnit!" Jeff yelled.

The passion crazed woman was climbing over his head, at the same time keeping him from covering it-she was straddling his face; then rubbing bleached blonde cunt hairs across his lips. Passion juice dripped onto his mouth, his chin; trickled down the front of his neck as she rubbed the soft meat back and forth from ear to ear.

Jeff tried to move his head, but she trapped him with her bony knees, pressing his cheeks, keeping him a prisoner of lust. Her eyes lolled and animal like grunts escaped her throat. "I'm coming-oh, darling-you're making me come!" She released her cream over his pursed lips. He looked up as she raised herself, and more cream fell down, smearing his face. He didn't know why his soft cock was rising; but it was. As he gazed into the big gaping gash above him, he seemed to be hypnotized.

Then the birds attacked!

They were ganging up together-flying in circles above the young man's face. They swooped down like fighter jets.

Jeff's prick shrank. He screamed frantically and tried to get beneath the covers. He managed to do so.

Melissa dove beneath the covers with him. They were covered like a tent as the sound of flapping wings, pecks, and bird screaching as the creatures tried to attack the fort.

The old woman was forcing her way between Jeff's legs. She was grabbing his soft penis, then she was jerking it back and forth until the loose foreskin tightened. She pulled the now hard organ to her lips opened her mouth wide and started to lick and suck madly. Her mouth was like a sink plunger, as it pressured him in deeper ... deeper ... deeper ... until the eight and a half inch prick was all the way down her throat. There were no tonsils to obstruct it and it worked past the tiny hollow where tonsils had once lodged.

Jeff started to work his ass forward and backward, fucking her throat furiously. His heavily hung balls slapped against her chin, almost as noisily as the flapping bird wings above. He could feel the hungry mouth sucking him in harder and harder, and as the big cockhead throbbed, she sucked more frantically. Then he was climaxing. It was a gusher that filled her throat. He could hear her gulping, coughing, then swallowing as she drank the hot sperm until his peter was limp. He tried to pull away from her, but she would not let go. She was keeping her teeth around the shrinking cock, and every time he gave a yank, she tightened them. He couldn't believe it when the prick hardened again. She was now working with it so roughly that it was getting sore.

With a regained spurt of strength, Jeff managed to get his penis free. The old woman seemed to be all nails and teeth as she scratched and bit into his flesh while he tried to unwind her wiry arms from his muscular body. He gave a wild frenzied push at the tent covers that encased them, and jumped off the bed. He rushed over to where his clothes lay on a chair, gathered them up, and his balls swinging, bent over and picked up his shoes. One bird landed on his back, another one on a shoe where it made a shit deposit.

Mrs. Simms jumped off the bed, rushed over to the dresser, and got some kleenex. She then knelt in front of Jeff and wiped off the bird's deposit from the shoe.

"Don't bother cleaning off your bird's souvenir," he glared at her.

She started to caress his legs-then lick the masculine hair.

Jeff gave her a rough shove and she fell to her ass; looking up at him.

"Keep your distance, baby, and-and, stop digging your old claws into my back, you feathered serpent," he shouted, swatting at the bird who landed in Melissa's lap and started to peck at her pussyhair.

Jeff began pulling up his shorts. When they reached his knees Melissa reached out and tripped him. He fell to the thick rug, trying to get his shorts on with one hand, and push her away from him with his other one. The rest of the clothes were now in a heap on the floor.

She won the battle!

She got a firm grip on his shorts and ripped them away from his body. Now she was holding his ankles-pushing his legs up ... up ... and apart, until she had free play between his legs. This time her eager tongue was after his asshole. She found it and tonguefucked his puckered bum until he had another erection.

"Let me go! I want to get the hell out of here!"

"I won't let you go and leave me alone in my SEX CHAMBER!"

"Torture chamber, you mean."

She had a grip on his penis now, using it to pull him toward her. He tried to wrench it free, but it was an impossible feat. She had a death like grip on it. "You're not getting out of here until we fuck," she hissed.

Jeff wished he could lose his hard-on, then he wouldn't be feeling so damned horny while trying to get away from her. He wanted to flee, but his prick wanted to stay. It was an inner battle-whether to really knock the old broad on her ass once and for all-or to give in to her wishes.

No! No! cried Jeff's brain.

Yes! Yes! cried prick.

Prick aimed its big fat head at the gray bleached pussy-blonde and silky with peroxide. Prick entered the slit between the scrawny legs as woman lay back on rug and wound legs around its master's back. Prick started to fuck cunt.

Jeff was surprised at the tightness of the old vagina. It was tighter than a young girl's. It had probably been tucked away in moth balls for years. Or had it? Had other young men been trapped in this 'sex chamber' with the birds and the whole bit, giving the old twat exercise to keep it from drying up and getting moldy? Keeping it in its present tight, juicy form? Damn, but this cunt felt good to big prick. Muscles were gripping firmly as a strong suction pulled the husky meat in.

Melissa met Jeff's every depth charge.

The birds were still flying overhead, but by now, Jeff couldn't have cared less. He was concentrating on the heavenly feeling that the hot, slippery, yet gripping cunt was bestowing upon his swollen throbbing pecker.

Melissa reached up, around his bucking ass and stuck her index finger into his tight rectum. She pressed a nerve and this set him off. He started to shoot his flowing manhood all the way into her womb.

When she felt him climaxing, she too started to release passions juices. They pounded together, whipping and mixing the white cream.

Finally, Jeff rolled away from her and at last she calmed down; her body relaxing.

But not for long.

A few minutes of rest while Jeff went into the adjacent bathroom and she was rarin' to go again!

Melissa was waiting for Jeff behind the door on the bedroom side. As soon as he stepped through it from the bathroom, she pounced up behind him, got a scissor hold around the back of his neck and rubbed her pussy against his buttock cheeks.

"Damn!" he exclaimed in surprise. Then he really got mad. He'd had enough!

The drug had worn off and his head was clear. His complete strength had returned. He reached up and twisted her arms cruelly, wrenching them free from his neck.

Mrs. Simms realized she'd gone too far. She met his angry flashing eyes. "Don't be angry, dear boy."

"Don't be angry! Are you kidding? This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me!"

"I showed you a good time."

"A good time, my ass! What in the hell did you put in my drink? This has been something out of a nightmare, and you have the audacity to stand there and ask me not to be angry. I'm angry all right-so damned fucking angry that if you weren't an old lady I'd knock the crockery out of your mouth."

"How dare you talk to me like this? Get out! Get out of my house this instant!"

"It'll be a pleasure; but before I dress and go, I want to tell you a thing or two. I've put up with you at the salon; I went along with your singing and dancing; I humored your sexual attacks, and...."

"But-but...."

"But my dick! I'm not through yet. I've shampooed that frog fuzz you call hair. I've put styles on you that belong on tini-bobbers. You're a shriveled up old hag-old enough to be my grandmother, not my mother! And now I've had enough. The worm has turned!"

Jeff got his clothes and started to dress. If she made another move to touch him, he'd let her have it, and she knew it. She kept her distance, but tongue lashed him.

"You! You ungrateful, low life son-of-a-bitch. You played the hard to get role, but you loved every minute of it. You got a taste of my pussy; let me blow you; fucked me like a champ. Now that you're not man enough to keep up with me, you put on this angry act to cover up your dwindling manhood. You're a dirty no good; sissy bastard!"

Jeff was buttoning his shirt. He shot dagger looks at her. "From here on in you can get somebody else to do your hair. I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole."

"Why-why ... I'll have your job for these insults."

"Well, you can have it, if you like slave labor!" He was now dressed except for the white dinner jacket she purchased for him. Reaching for it on the back of a chair, he threw it at her. "Keep this old rag, I hope it fits your next victim!" And with that, he opened the door and slammed it after him.

As he ran through the living room he could hear the old woman's high, shrill voice echoing through the house. "Don't ever darken my doorstep again-do you hear? I don't ever want to see your ugly kisser again, you fucker!"