It's Always Time Act 05 Ch. 04

The pizza delivery guy flopped onto one of the two frilly twin beds. "We're trapped!" He lay naked and greasy from the waist down, wearing only a marinara-stained shirt with an iron-on patch advertising Napoli's Pizza! All Day Delivery! "Trapped in here with those...things!"

The cable guy squinted. "ThatFedExtruck's still outside. Where's the driver?"

"There's nothing we can do for him," Eddie sighed.

The pizza guy bolted upright. "They killed him?"

"No. Well, not yet." The clawing on the door grew more desperate and Eddie covered his ears, hollering. "He's handcuffed to the sofa in the Sitting Room. They're calling it the Face Sitting Room now, and it's standing room only in there."

Fists started to pound. Behind Eddie, the kid carrying a satchel of newspapers ran up and shouted. "You can keep your two damn dollars!"

The noise level plummeted. "Hey, kid," a low female voice asked. "You're over eighteen, right?"

Eddie, the cable guy, and the pizza guy turned to stare. The paperboy adjusted the strap of his satchel. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'm, uh..." He shrugged. "Helping my kid brother do his route this week?"

Overlapping giggles rippled down the hallway outside. "Good enough for us. Now let us in, kid." The pummeling resumed. "You've got a few dozen asses to tap."

The paperboy paled, fell back, rearranged his shorts. "What are those things?"

"Mental cases," the cable guy hazarded, searching through the drawers of a vanity table. "Maybe Mad Cow Disease?"

"Don't be stupid." The pizza boy covered his lap with a store-bought throw pillow. A cheery Disney heroine gazed up at him from his crotch. "They're a biker gang strung out on some bad Meth. Or escaped convicts?"

Eddie shook his head. "No. Worse." The assault on the door slackened, half-hearted. "They're sorority girls." He pressed his ear on the door for a second. "And they're up to something." He nodded at the cable guy. "Found anything useful?"

"I wish." He piled his discoveries on the vanity's tabletop. "Box of hair combs, a crimping iron, and...hello." Something U-shaped clunked onto the table. "A double-headed dildo. At least that's something."

"Great." The pizza guy bounced down onto the bed. "Just great. That takes care of two. There's hundreds out there!"

"Don't exaggerate," Eddie said. "There's ninety, maybe little over a hundred, tops."

"But they're superfreaks," the pizza guy insisted, wild eyed. "All they want, all they ever think about is sex, sex, sex. I told one I had a headache. She just laughed!" He cackled. "She just laughed and shoved her tongue up my ass!"

"Get a grip, son!" The cable guy waved the long plastic schlong in the air. "They've gotten to all of us." He pointed the dildo at the paperboy, who winced. "Except him. I grabbed him when they were inviting him in."

"Yeah," the paperboy grumped, "thanks."

"You should be thankful." He leveled the dildo at the pizza guy. "Tell him your story."

"Only if you put that fucking thing down." The dildo thunked onto the vanity and the pizza guy sat back up. "Okay, kid, listen up. We get this call for five large pizzas, extra sauce, extra cheese. We just started this 'All Day Delivery' deal, but one look at the address—the frickin' Easy Sorority House, man, poontang heaven—and I pull rank and take the order. I just want to get a good, long look, that's all. But the door's answered by three stacked girls in tees and panties and they ask me to come in while they get my tip." He ran a hand through his slick hair. "Just like a porn movie, you know?

"Anyway, these three girls lead me down to the dining hall, and there's even more girls in there, grinning at me. One of 'em grabs the pizza and lines the boxes up on the table, one after another, see? Then she pops the tops open, one at a time. She's got this cute little frown on her face, and she says, 'We ordered Meat Lover's pizzas.'"

Eddie cupped his hand around his ear, listening at the door. "I think some of them are leaving. There's lots of whispering, too." He turned. "I've got a real bad feeling about this, guys. Guys?"

The pizza guy continued, "Anyway, she says they ordered the Meat Lover's. A couple other girls corner me against the table. At this point I'm pretty sure this is a joke, some initiation prank: flash your tits at the dorky pizza guy, that kind of thing. But there's something in the way they grin at me. So I pull out the receipt stub, confirm the order, but I say something goofy about how the customer's always right, offer them coupons. And then...and then they're all closin' in on me, and they've all got that 'we're gunna eat-you-up' grin. And I'm standing there with a bunch of buy-2-get-1-free coupons in my hand and a boner in my pants." He fidgeted with the illustrated throw pillow.

The paperboy's eyes bugged out of his head. "And?"

The pizza guy grimaced. "And then one says, 'Sorry, no substitutions,' and they drag me down, splat, right on the pizza." He ran his hand through his greasy hair again, this time plucking out a chunk of stewed tomato. "Once it cools down, pizza grease makes one Hell of a lube." His eyes misted. "The first fifteen minutes were the greatest moments of my entire life. But then...it didn't stop. They didn't stop. And after they'd eaten all the dough and cheese and licked off all the sauce, they still wouldn't stop, no matter what I said or did." He hung his head. "And when I couldn't get it up again, I swear, they were getting ready to eat me." He glanced up. "That's when Eddie here busted out of the kitchen and saved my ass."

Eddie could not meet his eyes. Something about standing in a room full of half-naked men, and one paperboy, he supposed. "Dumb luck on my part. They got me naked and let their guard down. Thought I wouldn't do a runner with my dick hanging out." He laughed, leaning against the door. "I'm a streaker, not a hero—Oh, shit!"

The butt of a metal fire extinguisher, as heavy as a SWAT police battering ram, punched through the door on the second swing, leaving a ragged round hole. The girl with strawberry blonde curls thrust her head through the hole, her grin menacing and maniacal. "Heeeere's pussy!"

The four guys fell into a huddle in the middle of the bedroom. Suddenly, the personal space issues of their nudity did not seem so important. The pizza guy gurgled, "What the fuck do we do? How the fuck do we get out of here?"

The curly blonde wriggled her hand through the hole, scrabbling for the doorknob, pointy pink tongue peeking out between her teeth.

The unreality of their situation sunk in. "That's exactly what we do," Eddie said. He felt calm and sure. He looked at his three companions in turn. "We're going to fuck our way out of here."

The pizza guy cringed. "This is madness!"

The curly blonde's hand stumbled on the doorknob. "Ah, ha!" She fiddled with the lock.

"Madness?" The cable guy squared his shoulders, jutted his jaw. "This is poontang." He stood erect, in more ways than one. "Let's do this."

The lock came undone. The curly blonde's howl of triumph was picked up, echoed and amplified into a lusty battle cry by dozens of throats. Eddie turned to the pizza guy. The pizza guy swallowed, nodded, hardened.

Eddie barked an order: "Virgin in the middle!" The paperboy jumped into the center of the huddle. The pizza and cable guys took up his flank. Eddie took the vanguard. "Here they come."

The bedroom door flew open. The first wave of frenzied coeds poured into the room. The paperboy dropped his satchel to the floor. "This is so..." He gulped, searching for the perfect word. The host of Easy pussy fell upon them.

He found it. "Awesome."

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Poor, poor pitiful me,
Poor poor pitiful me.
These young girls won't let me be,
Lord have mercy on me,
Woe is me!

—Waren Zevon, Poor Poor Pitiful Me
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