At our recent writing retreat, we did an exercise in which we came up with a story together by contributing one line at a time. Each line had to begin with the next consecutive letter of the alphabet. The following story was created during two rounds of the game with 5 writers.
Wichita Falls, Texas, was a fantastic city for dumping bodies.
X-rays for the autopsy of Janet Higgins showed that she had been hit with a blunt object before being tossed into the river. Yvonne stood on the river bank, squinting her eyes, trying to piece together what could’ve happened that night. Zealously, she jumped into the water to get a closer look at what seemed to be a unique blunt object. At that time of the year, the water flow was slow and the river was clear. Burt, her partner, emerged from the woods and was startled to see Yvonne had jumped in.
“Careful,” he shouted, “we don’t want to have to bury two bodies.” Dipping her hand into the water, she ignored her partner’s quip and felt around for what she thought might be the murder weapon. Elated, she grasped a billy club that she found in the river and showed it to Burt.
Fists clenched around the weapon, she shouted “We will put a stop to this madness!” Grabbing a large evidence bag from her back pocket, Yvonne placed the billy club inside it. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she recognized the billy club from Burt’s trunk.
In the car on the way to the station, while Burt rambled on about his newest fling, Yvonne stared through the window, considering her next move. Just in time, she swerved to avoid a pothole, sending the billy club in the evidence bag to the floor. Kicking himself, Burt realized his initials were carved into the bottom. Leaning over to grab the billy club, Burt grasped it with his hand. Murder is punishable by death in the state of Texas, and Burt thought to himself, “Not today, motherfucker.” Noticing Yvonne not paying attention, Burt punched her in the face, causing her to swerve off the road.
“Ow, asshole! What the hell?!” Yvonne screamed.
“Police work is complicated, and sometimes dirty; don’t take this personally.”
“Quiet!” Yvonne said in anger. “Right to remain silent is what you should be doing about now.” Swiftly, Yvonne punched Burt in face, got out of the car, and handcuffed him. Totally against protocol, Yvonne started hitting Burt with the billy club in the evidence bag. Under extreme duress, Yvonne had a history of hurting others.
“Victory shall be mine!” Yvonne said with determination.
Burt realized he underestimated Yvonne; he actually thought she wouldn’t last a day. Calming down a little bit, Yvonne realized what she had done. Desperation surged through her blood as she said “How bout we make a deal?”
Eyeing Yvonne, Burt started considering his options. First, Burt would consider Yvonne’s proposal; second, he would kill her.
“Good thing I just read The Art of the Deal.”
Heaving her body down to the ground where Burt had fallen, Yvonne said “So did I.”
“I know that you’re one strike away from being put on desk duty,” Burt said.
Jacked up from their fight but with just enough energy, Yvonne kicked Burt in the ribs and shouted “Shut up, you motherfucker!” Kneeling on the ground, Burt wheezed and spit some blood out. Like the last time she lost her cool, Yvonne also felt incredibly horny. Making use of Burt’s vulnerability, Yvonne pressed her breasts against Burt’s bloody face.
Nipples poking into his eyes, Burt said “I think we figured out our deal.” Obviously, she moaned as she ran her hand down his real billy club. (Penis, we’re talking about his penis).
“Quite the pants tent you got going on.” Raring to go, Yvonne pulled down Burt’s zipper. She whispered in Burt’s ear, “Is this how it went down with Janet right before you killed her?” Titillated by murder, pants tents, and corruption, Burt thrusted himself inside her and came quickly. “Um, that was unsatisfying, sheesh,” Yvonne said.
“Velocity doesn’t always work in my favor,” Burt grumbled to himself. Wiping herself clean, Yvonne was filled with sinking dread and disappointment about this arrangement.
“XX chromosomes can be a real curse when you’re on the Force,” she thought. “You’re a real piece of shit Burt, but if I let you go, this stays between us, especially the sex part, deal?”
Zipping up his pants, Burt agreed. “And I should warn, you should probably get tested.”