Nobody fucked with Jack. Do you remember that old Jim Croce song about Leroy Brown? Yeah. Jack was the real life version of that guy.
Anyways, Jack liked to beat the shit out of other men who thought they were the toughest guy in the bar. He didn’t like it when other men stood tall around him. Best to just keep your head down. And don’t look at him, unless you’re handing him some money or some whiskey. He did like his whiskey.
Jack also liked women. He liked all kinds of women. Big women, little women, tall women, short women. He liked them all, but never kept one around. He’d do his thing, say some lovin’ stuff, then get on his way. He never stayed around that long. Jack would say something like the Law was looking for him and he best get on his way.
A lot of women liked that. He was a bad boy. And he could fuck. Or at least, that’s what the women told the other women. Best pure fucking they’ve ever had.
The Voodoo Sex Shop
So that’s Jack in a nutshell. That’s all you need to know about Jack.
Oh. Call him “Sir.” He likes that. You can look him in the eyes if you call him “Sir.” Then you’d be on his good side.
And buy him a drink if you’re anywhere near a bar. If you’re walking with Jack, and you happen to walk by a bar, say “Sir, let’s step inside and the first round is on me. Top shelf.”
Then find an excuse to leave. It’s best not to stick around when his fists start flying. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna hit you. But the other guy’s friend might punch you while Jack beats up his friend. That’s never a fun thing.
“Where are you going with this?”
Hold your horses! Jack deserved a proper introduction. That’s the least I could have done for the man. After all, I’m the only man he ever bought a drink for.
No, I’m not a tough guy. I’m a storyteller. And Jack liked me for it because I told his story when he’d hit the road and run from the Law. He did that a lot.
But he always snuck back here for personal reasons. This shit, I ain’t gonna tell you since it’s personal.
As I said, Jack liked women. A little bit too much.
Rumor had it Florida had a little whorehouse in a small town called The Voodoo Sex Shop. No, not New Orleans flavor voodoo. The Haitian kind, you know those guys who speak with an Afro-French accent. I wouldn’t have stepped foot in that place. But like I said, Jack liked women. A little bit too much.
So Jack checks out the place. And there’s this little skinny Haitian guy. Probably late 40s or 50s. Very cheesy looking joint and he’s got a top hat and a black suit in this heat.
“Hi Jack.”
“How did you know my name?”
“You got quite a reputation.”
“I’ve never been in this shithole town before. How did you know my name?”
“Well Sir, I know men. And when it comes to men, you’re like a King of men. And I know you like women. Lots of women. And we got women. Here…” The skinny pimp guy pours some whiskey into a glass, nods, and gives it to Jack. “On the house. To your health.”
Jack smiled. Like I said, he liked being called Sir. And he liked his ego stroked. And, he really liked it when someone gave him a good drink. “Oh. This stuff is smooth.”
“I provide only the best. That’s aged Tennessee whiskey. The maker’s a repeat customer. He gives me his best stuff.”
“God damn. This may be the best mother fuckin’ whiskey I’ve ever had in my life.”
“And you’re about to have the best time of your life, Jack. Two hundred fifty dollars, as many girls as you want, and take your time.”
Jack always had money
As well as I knew Jack, he always had money. I’ve never seen him work a day in his life. However, he always had money.
So he slapped down two hundred fifty dollars and the skinny man smiled and pointed with his wooden wand to the back. And bowed.
Yes, the pimp is that cheesy. Laugh all your want. But don’t underestimate people. What’s that saying? Don’t judge a book by its cover? Yeah. There’s a reason for that. Sayings that stay around for hundreds of years. There’s a reason for them.
More on that another day. Let’s get back to Jack.
Well, there may be children reading this. So I’m not going to go into explicit details. But Jack did everything a man can do with four women. And when I say everything, just open up your dirtiest thoughts and yes, he did that too.
Careful about those big smiles
He came out with a big smile. Four hours later, Jack had a big smile. Bigger smile than I’ve ever seen him have, even that time when five guys tried to jump him. Heh. That put a smile on his face. But I’m talking an even bigger smile.
So Jack was feeling really good about himself. And after he came out, the skinny Haitian pimp greeted him with a smile.
Jack decided to do something bad. “Are you the only man here?”
“Only living man, yes, I am.”
Jack looked around. And pulled out a knife. “You know the drill.”
“Not a good idea, Jack.”
“What are you going to do about it, Slim?”
“Me? Nothing. I’m not a fighter.”
Jack smiled again as he saw the pimp whip out hundreds of hundreds. And instead of handing it over to Jack, he started counting the hundreds.
“But they are.”
Jack dropped the knife in horror. The pimp definitely was telling the truth. He was the only living guy there.
This part, I’m not going to go into details because you might have just eaten. We’ll just say that it wasn’t that hard to dispose of Jack.
Afterwards, the pimp had a disappointed look on his face as he put the Closed sign up on the door and mopped up the blood.
Rumor had it that the pimp kept Jack’s heart because the heart of a strong man has a lot of power. I’m not exactly the resident expert in voodoo so I don’t know what that means. I just heard the rumors.
That was Jack. I never did know his last name.