"Magnum Dong P.I. Vol. 4" Pt. 02

This is part 2, of a dirty story about cheating trophy wives.

Part 1, being the set up, and introduction to private investigator Magnum Dong. This story's about a young man, who comes home from college during winter break, and finds a porno magazine while snooping around in his mother's bedroom for batteries. Chapter 5, starts off with the young man flipping through pages, and reading another exciting adventure of Magnum Dong P. I.

Read tags, for further information on sexual content.

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Chapter 5. God Save the Queen

Flipping the page. The following story titled "Smarty Pants." Starring: Leggy Lexi Ledger. Would go much the same as the one with Mrs. Huxley.

The differences being, a sexy long legged librarian, with blonde hair in a tight bun and bangs coming down the sides of her face. Wearing thick black framed glasses, that fogged up when she's munching the warm lunch boxes of female college students. Often seducing the young women in a private study room, with an imprompitu poetry reading of the "Book of Disquiet," by Fernando Pessoa.

Magnum Dong, in his van, listening to the recorded audio of a raspy voice Mrs. Ledger. As she sits around conversing with 5 other white colleagues in a crowded smoke filled bar & grill off campus. Beers, cocktails, and margaritas taking up space on their table. While a mariachi band plays live, with the occasional plate and glass breaking in the background.

"Listen, listen to me. Are you listening? I'm telling you, United States will always be on the white side of history. Especially when it comes to apartheid South Africa. Leave it to the pinko Soviet Union, to be on the side against apartheid." Mrs. Ledger, turning her head in circles. "Now where's our Mexican jumping bean with the side table guacamole? Hey bartender, order us another round of tequila shots."

"Lexi, it's called progress," a female professor said. "Culture and social structures are always changing. If not, we'd still be living under segregation, women wouldn't be able to vote, and abortion wouldn't be legal."

"Segregation... really. If redlining, didn't hold back the dark hordes, those people would be drowning in our public pools." Mrs. Ledger, squinting at the approaching petite 19 year old waitress pushing the side table guacamole. "Where in hell did you get the avocados, Tijuana?"

"I'm sorry," the Latina waitress said, with eyeballs jumping around the table. "Kitchen is short staffed and they needed--"

"listen to me, I don't care. Next time bring me my guacamole first before going down on the pig in the chef's hat." Mrs. Ledger, glaring up at her.

The waitress nodding her head. Turns away in 3 inch black heels, with every step tapping on the tile. White fishnet stockings contrasting against her bronze skin. Her curvy hips in a black pleated mini skirt swaying from left to right. Ringing dinner bells in Mrs. Ledger's head.

The bar maid, with serving tray in her hand approaches. Placing on their table several tequila shots, with salt and lime hanging off the edges.

"Here's to you, doll face," a man in their party said. Handing over a wad of cash to the attractive female server. "And sweetheart, this 7-year-old spit is killing me. Next time, bring us the 18-year-old tequila, the bartender likes to hide for himself. And keep'em coming."

"Excuse me Miss, I'd like another margarita on the rocks please," a squeaky female voice said.

"Cheers," they all shout, with small glasses clinking together. Throwing back their shots and biting into salted limes. Smiling sour faces, passing the large bowl around digging out dollops of side table guacamole on to their small plates. Devouring the dip one scoop at a time.

With the mariachi band on break. A customer drops quarters into the jukebox. Selecting "Sympathy for the Devil."

"Please allow me to introduce myself.

I'm a man of wealth and taste.

I've been around for a long, long year.

Stole many a man's soul and faith.

And I was 'round when Jesus Christ.

Had his moment of doubt and pain.

Made damn sure that Pilate.

Washed his hands and sealed his fate.

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name"... Song by the Rolling Stones.

Mrs. Ledger, tapping the tip of a slim menthol coffin nail against the gold cigarette case it came in. Sparking a flame between her long pink fingernails. She takes a drag crackling tobacco and paper, with glossy pink puckered lips exhaling smoke rings. Legs crossed, leaning back on her chair.

Her pinpoint pupils floating in a sea of tropical blue, with long eyelashes and smokey black eyeshadow lowered to open slits. Zeroing in on the waitresses liberated perky b cups under a gold and black pinstripe blouse. Rosa, on the name tag over her lapel.

Taking another drag, from the lipstick stained butt. The crackling cherry glowing bright red and flicking ash on the floor. Her other hand scooping guacamole with a tortilla chip. Tossing the appetizer into her mouth, teeth mashing the flavors together, sending her lips smacking from the salt. Mrs. Ledger's glossy pink lips growing into a grin.

"Seriously Lexi, what the fuck," a male professor said, named Ben. "It's only guacamole."

"It's only guacamole now. You give them an inch and they'll take over the whole goddamn country." Blowing smoke, pointing to the Mexican flag hanging above the bar. "Seriously Ben, sometimes I don't know whose side you're on. Do really want to give California back?"

The bar maid, removing the small emptied glasses, with more tequila shots knocking on wood as she places them around table.

"What side I'm on?" Ben said. Shrugging his shoulders and laughing. "You've been riding this poor girl all night. I can hear the small rodent scratching in your head to turn the wheels. What do you say, to leaving this little fish alone to swim in the pond, while you sink your line and hook in the ocean for bigger game."

"Are you kidding. Spare the boring lectures, of overused cliches for your class." Rolling her eyes. "See how she walked away from the table with her head down about to cry. I've been working on this little border hopper for weeks. I'll have her, the same way I have this next shot."

Throwing back the glass, swishing tequila around in her mouth, gargling, and swallowing in one gulp. Not bothering to chase it with the salted lime. The shot glass knocking on wood.

"Mmm, I bet she's goes down even better, than 18-year-old tequila," Mrs. Ledger said.

The waitress, not making eye contact. Places several hot plates around the table, with everyone immediately digging into their food orders. Mrs. Ledger, tapping the bowl of guacamole with her right index fingernail.

Rosa, grabbing emptied glasses and dirty dishes on to the side table cart. Before rushing to the kitchen, only to return minutes later with a fresh bowl of guacamole.

"Listen, are you listening?" Mashing guacamole scooped tortilla chips between her teeth. "Another thing about the Soviet Union, if they were losing the war against Nazi Germany, United States would have ended up on the white side of history. Why do you think we dragged are feet when starting the second front. Finland, would have been in control of St. Petersburg. And the Queen of England, would have been gargling Goebbels ball sack."

Party goers roaring in laughter, with a professor using his fist as a mallet hitting the table. Sending forks, knives, and condiments rattling in place.

The bar maid, circles the table with another round. Tequila shots being thrown back into open mouths. Sour faces biting into salted limes. Emptied glasses knocking on wood.

Knowing Magnum Dong's love for all things dainty, fancy, and British. He had enough listening for one day.

"Gargling Goebbels ball sack," he said, thinking out loud. "How dare she. The iron clamp between this diabolical witches legs must be unbearable."

Placed on a small makeshift table. Photographic evidence piled together of the 37-year-old married librarian, with her nose buried reading volumes of co-ed bush in the school library. Aong with the cute apple bottom waitress, getting one hell of a spiral ribbed tip inside the back of Mrs. Ledger's brown and white Ford Bronco. The cargo compartment, decked out with a brown shag carpet and a large mirror anchored to the ceiling.

A streak of light cracks the night's sky, as raindrops collect on the outside windows. Rosa's white thong hanging off the rearview mirror, with clothes piled on the dashboard. Dressed in only white fishnet stockings, a black spike dog collar, and an upside down bowl placed on her head with guacamole soaking in the girl's hair. As she's on all fours, with her ass in the air. Taking the pink girthy strap-on from behind, with a terrified expression similar to a person bracing themselves right before a car crash.

Mrs. Ledger grinning, clenching the end of the dog leash between her teeth. While jamming two fingers knuckles deep inside the Latina girl's anus. As she attempts to drill through her cervix with every thrust. The black leather dildo harness being Mrs. Ledger's only article of clothing.

Audio recorded evidence captured heavy breathing, roars from lightning strikes, and rain pelting the vehicle. "Evil Woman," by E. L. O. plays in the background. Mrs. Ledger, tapping cheeks, the way one claps the bottom of a glass ketchup bottle. Her bell shaped jugs, jiggle with every bump generated from smashing into Rosa.

"Smack," from a hand slapping against apple bottom cheeks.

"Ahh, no Mrs. Ledger," she said, in a heavy accent. "Stop going so deep."

The dildo, held in place deep inside the girl's pink furry puffy taco, with Mrs Ledger's lap smushed against Rosa's bottom. Mrs. Ledger, on one knee, lifts her right leg over the girl's glowing back, pressing the ball of her foot down on top of the bowl until the dog leash stretches tight with the collar pulling on the girl's throat.

Rosa's nose and mouth, buried in long carpet fibers, similar to a cow grazing in green pastures. As she begins trembling, gasping for air, with her eyes glowing bloodshot red. Before grabbing the leash with her right hand, and yanking it out from between Mrs. Ledger's clinched teeth.

"What the fuck, you crazy bitch." Rosa, coughing uncontrollably.

"Crazy bitch? I'm not the little slut in heat wearing the dog collar." Lifting her foot off the bowl, and pulling the dildo out the girl's wet vaginal lips. "If you are going to be a big baby about it, you can take off the dog collar. Now help me forget how mad you made me tonight, and bring your cute face over here."

"Yes ma'am," Rosa said, in a quiet voice. The dog collar, leaving a red mark across the girl's throat.

A belts unbuckles with velcro being pulled apart. "Thump," from the dildo hitting the vehicle's carpeted floor.

"You bring the demon out of me. If I decide, to have you again... don't suck off any more boys. I hate it when my little girl's smooches taste like dick." Mrs. Ledger, on her back, twisting her nipples, and biting her bottom lip. "Oh, yeeess. Love a girl not afraid to get her nails dirty. Keep sliding your finger in my ass. Yes, yes, yes, that's it. Don't stop licking up my clit. Rosa, you really are one of the good ones. Almost feel guilty for having your dad deported."

"What?" Popping her head up from between Mrs. Ledger's thighs, with jaw dropped and eyes wide.

"Listen to me." Glaring at the girl with disgust. "Best to remove the stupid look off your face. Your lucky, I don't have you deported. And take off that dunce hat, you look like a Vietnamese guerilla hiding in blonde bush."

Rosa, removing the ceramic bowl from her head, before dropping it to the floor making a loud "Thump."

Mrs. Ledger, grabs the pink dildo she used to screw the 19-year-old girl's brains out. And begins washing the sex toy with her tongue. Licking the dildo and making yummy sounds, as if enjoying a pussy flavored popsicle. After hocking up a loogie and repeatedly spitting on the sex toy, she hands the mucus glazed dildo to Rosa.

"Here, sticking this up your ass." Rolling her eyes. "Don't just look at it you dumb bitch. Stick it in. I already lubricated it for you."

Rosa, with the tip of the sex toy pressed against her anus, applying pressure, as the pink dildo slowly stretches her brown rim.

"Oh-shit. Aye-no, mmm, mmm!" Holding her breath seconds at a time.

"Unless you want me to do it. I suggest you hurry up and shove it in already."

"Aye no. Mmmm, aye, aye, aye."

"Okay, it's deep enough. Now face plant yourself back in the gutter and eat me."

Whimpering, sniffing short breaths. Smacking lips, with tongue mopping clitoris, her nose brushing against blonde bush.

A light flashes in the sky. "Boom," with a crackling roar. Rattling the Ford Bronco's door windows. Fog forming on the glass.

The waitress trimbles. Her face lowered licking rim. Back arched and butt wiggling in the air.

Mrs. Ledger, grinning at her ribbed pink toy flagpole planted in the girls ass. As she diddles her clit, breathing short breaths, and shifting her head side to side.

"Okay Rosa, move your face higher," she said, in a soft voice. "That's it honey, come a little closer. Now open wide and stick your tongue out."

Feet planted on the floor, knees bent, and lower back arched upward. Lifting her butt off the ground with Rosa's face inches from her crotch.

"That's it. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yeeeeeeessssssss!" Liquid erupting in bursts, from fingering herself with her palm clapping against clit. Droplets pelting Rosa's face.

Mrs. Ledger left trembling. Breathing deep, calming down to the tapping of rain against the roof. Exhausted, she continues to lay on her back, grinning at the waitress.

Rosa, pulling out the pink dildo. "Thump," goes the toy hitting floor. Sitting on her back legs. Face wet, jaw dropped, with eyes drawn down at the woman who popped her cherry.

Mrs. Ledger's right foot combing out guacamole from the girls hair. Before wiggling manicured pink toenails, inches away from the waitresses lips.

"Well honey, they're not going to lick themselves clean." Smiling, sparking a flame between her fingers. Igniting the tip, as she takes a drag from the crackling rolled up joint. Placing her right hand behind her head, as she blows smoke rings from glossy pink puckered lips.

"That's it, start with the big one. This little piggy went to market. This Little piggy ran home. And this little piggy hopped the border, instead of staying in Mexico."

Smacking lips, with tongue wiggling between toes. Watery eyes streaming down Rosa's face.

The musky air, hot boxed into a fish market inside a sweaty gym locker room. Three flashes of light outside. Rain continuing to pelt the vehicle.

Between the smoky haze and fogged up windows. Leaving only the cherry from the marijuana cigarette visible. As the smoldering red dot floats across the vehicle glowing brighter and dissipating. Followed by the waitress coughing.

"Knock, knock, knock," coming from the front passenger side window. "Hello," a man's voice said.

"Hey Ben, will you give us a minute?" Mrs. Ledger said. "You horny old bastard."

The tipsy professor, with three years until eligible for retirement. Who earlier lectured Mrs. Ledger, to fish in deeper water. Stands in a puddle outside the vehicle under an umbrella.

The overweight man, with a bad dye job and thinning hair combed over a bald cul-de-sac. Wearing a blue and white polyester Hawaiian shirt, with the top buttons undone. His gold crucifix pendant attached to a gold chain necklace, cocooned in long strands of white cotton candy chest hair, resembling a fly trapped in cobwebs. Along with gray bell bottom slacks and white pointy wing tip shoes.

Back passenger side door opens and slams shut. Mrs. Ledger red-eyed with glossy skin. Stands out of the rain under his umbrella in a gray skirt and red blouse. Top buttons unfastened showing off cleavage. Hair pulled back in a ponytail with bangs coming down the sides of her face.

"If you waited another 10 more minutes, there'd be nothing left." Lighting a cigarette and looking around the long alley.

"How the hell, did you convince her to leave with you?" he said, slurring his words.

"Told her, I had a friend working at immigration who can help with getting a green card," she whispered grinning. "By the way, you stink of barf and hard liquor. What's that cologne you're wearing?"

"It's Ole English Leather. My wife got it for me on our anniversary. Don't know if I feel right about this." He whispers, "You are going to get her a green card, right?"

"This from a man, who's been sleeping with his female students for an easy A." Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, flicking the lit menthol out into a puddle. "Don't care if you decide to grow a conscience. Long as you pay my bar tab she's all yours. I'm heading across the street for some coffee and cherry pie. When you're done with my sloppy seconds, bring my Bronco over to the diner."

Placing the gold cigarette case back in her black purse. Umbrella in hand. Walking between two buildings with the wet road glittery from yellow lamps mounted over side entrances. Passing dumpsters, and noticing a homeless man quietly talking to himself. As he sat inside a makeshift shelter the size of a doghouse. The structure made from wooden pallets, cardboard, and several aluminum trash can lids for a roof.

"They're using one and two worded triggers, to keep me responding on a loop," the homeless man said. "It's a psychological whip to break the human spirit. With multiple voices, going from positive to negative. Longer a person runs the loop. The crazier they get. Ha-ha-ha, the crazier they get. Up and down. Round and round. Up and down..."

"Not this shit again," saying under her breath. Mrs. Ledger, stops to look side-eyed at the homeless man's black face barely visible underneath the dark shadow casted over him. Rain bending the structures cardboard out of shape.

He pops his head out from the shelter greeting her with a smile. His yellow safari hat, collecting puddles on the brim with raindrops dripping off the edges.

"Freak," she said. Stepping back laughing with right hand over her heart. "Take your medication and shut the fuck up."

"Don't you get it," the homeless man said, with his voice raised. "Soon, everyone will be a voice activated ventriloquist dummy. At first they'll think there mind readers. Receiving spiritual divine intervention. But the moment they ask, 'Why only languages I know and selected opinions project into my head?' Out comes the triggers and flesh puppets, to run that fucker on a loop. It's the invisible war, of who will win dominance inside your own head."

"Who cares." Mrs. Ledger, stepping away brandishing her left middle finger. Hips swaying, with every stride of her black knee high stiletto boots knocking on the road. Rain pelting and dripping off the umbrella held in her right hand.

"Don't you understand. The person either stops thinking for themselves or start screaming on a street corner with the rest of us schizophrenics. Got to keep the animals in their mental cages. Impair the judgment and control the narrative. Manufacturing consent on steroids!"

"Suck lithium, you fucking burden." Mrs. Ledger, exiting out the alley to her right. "Every god damn time."

"You think I'm crazy, bitch?" The homeless man standing outside his shelter in yellow rubber boots, tan cargo shorts, and yellow rain poncho. "I've heard the accusation before. And I ain't gonna take any more. Believe me. I am the eye in the sky. Looking at you. I am the maker of rules. Dealing with fools. I will cheat you blind.

Do you hear me, bitch!" Stomping in circles from puddle to puddle repeating on a loop. "I can read your mind! I can read your mind! I can read your mind!!!" The homeless man shouting song lyrics, from "Eye in the Sky," by The Alan Parsons Project.

The professor, not bothering with the commotion further down the alley. Opens the back passenger side door and ducks inside the smoked filled vehicle with squinted face. Shutting and locking it behind him.

Rosa, coughing and clearing her throat. As she places the smoldering marijuana roach in a glass ashtray next to her.

"Oh my, you're really something else. Beautiful I mean. Young, supple, and perfect. Remind me of a girl my daughter used to babysit if she was all grown up of course." A belt unbuckles, with the man huffing and puffing while struggling to remove his clothes. "Think you might be coming down with a rash. Got a line of raspberries growing across your throat. I suspect that evil bitch, must be the reason for guacamole being in your hair..."

The professor, pulling his naked clammy old man body over the back seat, similar to a slug sliding up a wall. Before belly flopping face first, into the cargo compartment with a "Thump."

Rosa, with a blank facial expression, picks up the dog collar off the floor and buckles it around her neck. Handing over the end of the leash to Ben.

"What the fuck, did that evil cunt do too you?" The professor, with a disgusted squint in his eyes.

Not saying a word. Rosa, rolls over facing down, presenting herself on hands and knees. Revealing two well fucked holes, wet with anticipation for some old man's cock.

Ben, shortening the slack by wrapping the dog leash around his right fist. His hands on her hips, slides all five inches of fat uncut cock into the girl's furry puffy taco lips. Hairy old man balls, matching his white hairy chest, kisses heaven, as he slides back and forth inside the pink taco.

"Know, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow. But after a night, of tasting 18-year-old tequila and screwing 19-year-old Mexican pussy. I will always cherish this moment."

"If You Could Read My Mind" by Gordon Lightfoot, plays on the vehicle's radio. As the maestro, jams to his own drummer. Sending the Ford Bronco, rocking side to side. Going from "Squeak, squeak, squeak," to "squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak." Orchestrating a symphony of "Bang that Slut." With Rosa, singing in the opera to the clapping rhythm of a glass ketchup bottle getting the red out.

"Aye, aye, aye. Ah-ahhh! Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhh!!!"

A flash of light streaks through the night sky. "Boom," with a crackling roar. Followed by "Snap, snap, snap," of three flashes coming from the homeless man's makeshift shelter. Rain pelting everything underneath its path.

Several nights later. Magnum Dong, gives the royal treatment to Mrs. Ledger, in the back alley behind the Mexican bar called "Tequila & Taquitos."

Mrs. Ledger, wearing only spiked heels, bent over in a standing position. Arms out front, with palms opened bracing against a red brick wall.

Magnum Dong, standing behind Mrs. Ledger. Holding onto her waist, while battery ramming through her iron clamp. His cock pummeling her cervix, the way a one arm boxer jabs at a speed bag.

"Ahhh! Fu-fu-fu-fucker!" Mrs. Ledger's jaw drop, tongue sticking out, and eyes rolling around in the back of her skull.

"For a librarian, you must learn to articulate your words."

"Hur-hur-hurry up you pinko fuck." Mrs. Ledger's glasses resting on the tip of her nose, with snarled face turned over her left shoulder, and eyes sharpened darting up at Magnum Dong.

"If it makes me a communist, by turning your white pussy into an equal opportunity smash and grab. Then my name is Leon Trotsky. As for your request." Leaning forward, with his warm breath whispering in her left ear, "Here... we... go."

Magnum Dong, pulls out whipping globs of spooge across her back.

Mrs. Ledger, catching her breath, and momentarily losing her cognitive faculties.

Her naked body glowing, with the thick glasses on her face shattered, and her tight hair bun disheveled. Wobbling away with jello legs. Struggling to stay balanced on her black 5 inch spike heels.

Patting down her person in search for the keys. She jumps through the small squared side door of a tall brown dumpster. Her Ford Bronco, parked in the background.

Knee deep in garbage. A crunching squish beneath her heels as she gains her balance. The ground crawling over her stilettos and up the walls. She rushes to escape the disgusting cockroach infested metal receptacle. Climbing a sidewall, with the square door behind her.

Mrs. Ledger's upper body hanging off the garbage containers edge. Struggling to push herself over with her high heels unable to find traction running against the slick metal. Making a bewildered and sad expression. With cum on her back, guacamole on her face, and refried beans in her hair.

The dumpster swinging in a circle motion without lifting off the ground. Yellow lights in the back alley turning into streaks of shooting stars. With objects big and small, floating to the left and snapping back to the right. Cool air blowing against clammy skin, with every breath of rotting garbage flavoring taste buds. As stomach acid bubbles up green splashing the street below.

Mrs. Ledger's lower jaw hanging open with vomit dripping off her chin. Regurgitated mix flavors of guacamole, chicken taquitos, and tequila lingering on her tongue.

"Need any help Mrs. Ledger?" Magnum Dong, smiling, rubbing his chin. Standing in the alley naked wearing only white socks poking out from underneath black boots.

"Listen, listen, are you listening? Fuck you (REDACTED). And it doesn't make me a racist. I've licked plenty of black girl snat-aahhhhhhh!" Sliding off the edge falling backwards. Her body smashing into the pile of garbage. Sending debris and dust bursting over the dumpster.

"Your purse, keys, and clothes are locked safely in the Bronco. If you still don't need my help, I'm going to head out. By the way, I've already mailed audio recordings and photographic evidence to the client."

"Are you saying, I licked your asshole for nothing?"

"I wouldn't say for nothing," he said, grinning.

"My husband, approves of me being with other women. I know it's not him. So who's the client?"

"He's a Mexican national, paying me in pesos. Concerned for his daughter's well-being, and fearing there may be sinister forces a foot. He hired me to check up on her."

"The border hopper. I choked on your nasty cock for a (REDACTED). What the fuck do I care, if some Mexican see me deflowering his daughter's holes."

"Again, you were never my target. Only became part of my investigation when I saw you harassing the poor girl at her job. After she disappeared, we started following you."

"I tasted her innocence with every lick before having that spicy bitch thrown out on her cute butt. Only wish Dwight Eisenhower's 'Operation (REDACTED)' was still in effect. I would deport anyone with darker skin not from a suntan."

"That must be, the taquitos and guacamole talking." His eyebrows raised.

"Should've known you were blackmailing me. What were you going to do, send the photos to my employer if I didn't put out?"

"I've never blackmailed anyone. I came into the bar & grill tonight, as a courtesy to inform you about being part of my investigation. That I had already concluded." Shaking his head with arms folded. "You're the one grabbing my dick at the bar, asking me 'Is there anything I can do for you?' I said 'Rim job.' You squinted, then looked around the room, and said 'Let's go to my car. I know a hideaway.'

Then you slammed down your frozen margarita in three gulps. Yelled 'Awe-shit brain freeze.' And brought me to this romantic spot. Where my associate, recorded you and your colleague tag teaming my target."

"Anything else you want to tell me?"

"I did head over to the professor's house this morning. He wasn't home to inform him of my investigation, but his wife was. I left some photos of her husband exiting the Bronco and audio recording of him doing the nasty with a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. I believe he will be sleeping in the dog house tonight."

"Get the fuck out of here."

"No, I'm totally serious. Only wish I could've seen his wife's face, when good old Benny boy says 'I'm sorry Rosa, I may have spilled some. In case you miss your period, give me a call, and I'll take you somewhere to dispose of our little problem.'"

"I meant, get the fuck out of here. Not sarcasm, for you to keep talking."

"Okay, know when I overstayed my welcome. About to leave anyways."

"Good, go home. And by that I mean back to Africa."

"Are you sure you don't want my help?"

"Get the fuck out of here, (REDACTED). Fucking leave. Are you listening? Go home! Go home! Go home!" Mrs. Ledger, spitting out her words. Thrashing around inside the dumpster.

Magnum Dong, strolling through the passageway between two buildings. Snapping his fingers and whistling the theme song to "Andy Griffith." His clothes tucked underneath his left arm. Dangling dingleberries and thick hanging vine swinging in the breeze. His shimmering muscular body with clinched glutes on display for any lucky onlookers to gander.

"Go home," Mrs. Ledger yelling, "are you listening?"

Trash being thrown against the dumpster inside walls and over the top edge.

"This great democracy's flag, is a scoreboard for genocide and ethnic cleansing of native lands. Count the stars fuck-face. Hello, it's 204 years of winning! Soon corporate fascism will take over the world with a U. S. military installation in every country. And those pea brain idiots, won't notice the Trojan Horse undermining their nation's sovereignty for the benefit of white supremacy.

White power. White power. White power..." Mrs. Ledger's right arm and open palm extended out front. Screaming in a loop to exhaustion. Her knees buckling, falling over bags of garbage before coming to rest in the fetal position. Crying herself to sleep.

As dawn rises illuminating the alley. Unaware of any squatters passed out taking residence inside. A garbage truck drives forward up to the dumpster. Lifting the metal container, flipping it upside down, and dumping out the contents for waste disposal.

"Hey asshole, I'm in here!" Mrs. Ledger's voice muffled and echoing from the surrounding metal walls. Sun rays spotlighting through the open trap door above her head. "Are you listening to me! I am in here!"

The garbage man sick with a bad case of disco fever. Is unable to hear Mrs. Ledger, over the radio station blasting "Staying Alive." Flipping a toggle to start the trash compactor. Closing the space inside its haul.

"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk.

I'm a woman's man, no time to talk.

Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around.

Since I was born.

And now it's alright, it's okay.

And you may look the other way..." Song by the Bee Gees.

Slipping down feet first, into the rising tide of garbage slurry. Spiked heels touching floor keeping from being swallowed past her chest. Quicksand into place, with the pressure gaining strength as the walls close in.

"No, this can't be happening. I'm a gorgeous white lady, with tropical ocean blue eyes, perky pink nipples on a magnificent rack. And sexy longs legs men dream of climbing in bed." The cockroach bitten Mrs. Ledger, with dried vomit crusted on her chin, knocking an iron rod against the inside walls. "Listen to me. When I get out of here, I'm going to sue. Hey idiot, do you hear me? Expect to be served a court summons."

"Aahhhhhhh," with a bone crunching squish. Sending blood squirting out and over the trap door. Mrs Ledger, goes silent. As the trash compactor comes to completion.

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive. Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive..." The porno ending, with the garbage truck driving off and the Bee Gees high pitched singing fading away.

Spooge productions, often allowed their performers to add social commentary through improving their lines. Occasionally leading to artistic differences with shouting matches breaking out during filming.

Leggy Lexi Ledger, notorious for rewrites and always demanding to play the villain. Took inspiration from people she didn't like. Similar to a good wrestling heel taking arrogance, narcissism, and vanity to extremes. Regardless, if she hammed it up or played it straight. Her performance always stole the scene.

If any problems came up, with the new direction Lexi wanted to take the story. She would threaten to spread her legs by walking off set. Being a live action Barbie doll, with all the right accessories, and a box office sells Bonanza. Directors were warned by men bathed in cologne, with no necks, and gold chains wrapped around the back of their heads and faces.

I could only speculate, what had been said between wise guy and porn director.

"Don't make me kiss you. My friend Rocco over here been giving out smooches all night. And I'm tired of lugging back and forth to the marina, taking romantic boat rides. Long as she's a fan favorite, Lexi can do whatever the hell she wants. Otherwise, your next filming location will be under the sea, shooting 'The Little Fucking Mermaid.'"

What I had seen up to this point left me titillated wanting more.

Sure the dialogues stupid with the stories being juvenile.

And occasionally a crew member spoils the shot.

It's still dynamite hardcore '70s smut at its best.