Butterface

Three flies played in the cook’s chest hair that sprouted out the top of his apron like pubic hair out the sides of a careless woman’s swimsuit. He flipped the burger patties and with his chin dug into his chest, attempted to disrupt the fornicating filth of the flies. Three times he blew and three times they flew away and came back. Microscopic drops of saliva landed on the hotplate and became one with the meat juices like soulmates think they do. FUCKN FLIES!! he said to no one in particular and no one in particular heard him because the short order cook is a lonely beast whose friends are the remains of processed animal parts. He scratched his arse and sniffed his hand. The flies were still having intercourse in his chest hair when the burger was ready to go out.

They sat at a table by the window. Cars flew past like rockets headed to the moon and he wondered where everyone was going. Streaks of every colour passed by him and he’d almost forgotten why he was there until he felt the familiar touch of her hand on his. He would’ve been happy if this was it. Jesus, Butterface. I wish things were different, he said.
There’s nothing I can do? she said.
You’re just so goddamn…
Ugly?
Doesn’t cover it, Butterface.
Is it the five o’clock shadow? she said and he still hadn’t taken his eyes from the cars outside. They offered refuge from what was to come. He knew he couldn’t avoid it but her hand was so damn soft and inviting. He imagined it gripped around the shaft of his penis and he started getting hard under the table. What is it? she said looking for closure but he’d already closed the door.
You look like a man, he said.
Nonsense.
You look like my dad, he said.
Does your dad have a pair of these? she said and pushed her tits up to emphasise the cleavage that he’d buried both his face and dick into numerous times.
Your tits are magnificent, Butterface.
How about this? she said and thrusted her arse in his face. He turned for this. Rate them, she said.
Your tits are ten out of ten, he said.
And?
Your arse is also ten out of ten, Butterface.
Now rate my face, she said and their eyes finally met. It was like walking into a public toilet and seeing someone else’s shit. His hard-on under the table retreated like a turtle’s head into the shell when even the slightest whiff of danger presents itself. This wasn’t dangerous. It was merely grotesque and in this grotesqueness the head of his penis almost inverted. Your face is negative nine hundred and twelve, he said.
So what does that make me overall?
Well, twenty for the tits and arse, plus negative nine hundred and twelve for the face….that makes you a negative 892 out of ten, he said.
Seems overly harsh.
I’m just being honest.
What if I wore a mask?
It would never work.
Why not?
Because you look like an old man with a great pair of tits.
Ten out ten tits.
You better believe it. Goddamn it, Butterface. The waitress placed their burgers in front of them and Butterface picked hers up and looked at it. Would you say this burger is better looking than me? she said.
Yes.
Even with the lettuce bits hanging out of the side?
Damn it, Butterface. You’d scare a dog out a butcher shop. Every single time we kissed I went home and questioned whether what I had just done was gay, he said.

He’d come in just as Butterface had taken her first bite of the burger that she had been told would beat her in a beauty contest. If it ever came to that. Seven feet tall and he took up two seats on the bench while he waited for his order. From behind she’d stirred something in his pants, even with the patchy hair on the back of her head. He just assumed she was sick or it was a new hairstyle doing the rounds amongst the hot chicks in town. Back at the table and she was so ugly he couldn’t even eat. Have you lost your appetite or something? she said.
You’re sickeningly ugly, he said.
Didn’t stop you from playing with these, she said and lifted her tits again.
IT WAS A MISTAKE YOU GODDAMN MUTANT!! he said. The other diners pretended nothing had just happened like most bystanders do when someone yells in public. The giant stood up from the bench and walked over to them. That’s no way to talk to a OH MY GOD KILL IT WITH FIRE!! he said and backhanded Butterface off her chair. Bits of half chewed burger sprayed forth from that mouth of hers and the giant took a few steps back as she lay on the floor staring at the ceiling. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!? said the giant but no one answered. Butterface rolled on her side and spat out three teeth. Slowly, she got to her feet and the giant took a few more steps back like an explorer that had just stumbled upon a wild beast in the jungle. She didn’t even see him though. Standing over the table she put her face inches from the other guy’s. He still had his hands on the burger he was never going to eat. RATE ME NOW!! she said.
What?
RATE ME!!
Um…tits and arse unchanged…
WHAT ABOUT MY FACE?!??!!
Well…
WHAT ABOUT IT?!?!?!
You took a hefty blow to the face, Butterface.
RATE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! she said like a demented witch summoning her demonic lesbian spirit friends.
Negative twelve hundred and four, he said.
What does that make me?! said Butterface.
Well, twenty for the tits and arse plus negative twelve hundred and four for the face…that makes you a negative eleven hundred and eighty-four.
That is truly vile and otherworldly, said the giant. The entire restaurant was looking at her now. The cook had emerged from the kitchen with his fly friends and waited for a gap in the gasps and whispered exclamations of disbelief as to how hideous Butterface’s head was. Like the bearded lady before her she belonged in a circus or a zoo. I’d do her, said the cook and Butterface turned with a smile that was missing three teeth and had bits of burger in places she hadn’t yet had the chance to wipe. Actually, no I wouldn’t, he said.
Oh, said Butterface and whether it was the look of dejection on her face or the magnificent tits that had now come into his line of sight or the accumulation of loneliness that had worn him down at the hotplate, something in him broke. Ok I would, just don’t tell my friends, he said.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s