The following story was published in our summer print issue, “Fiction from the Underground.” It is a GREAT story non grata that no university journal would dare publish on grounds of indecent subject matter and offensive language, especially when one considers the authorship. Long live the puritans! We have been working together all along.
John Julius Reel reads “Twenty Minutes of Action.”
Your life was a blast before Todd and June started dating.
Todd taught you how to partake of life’s plenty without pity or shame. If one of you scored big, the stained sheets were hung in the hall. You tallied conquests by tacking used condoms to your bulletin boards. Once, Todd lured into the back of his GMC Explorer a trailer-park harlot—as old as your mom, for chrissake, and partying with nineteen-year-olds. You wanted to do a daisy-chain, give each of the brothers their piece. Todd talked you out of it.
“That’s for special occasions,” he said.
The two of you bopped her though, on a beer run. Twenty minutes of action. Wham, bam, another one in the can. Todd taught you everything you knew.
*
Todd first met June, your sister, when she made a campus visit. Back in high school, when June was a sophomore and you were a senior, she somehow talked you through the end of that wash-out year, when Sabrina dumped you. For two years, Sabrina had thrown around the L-word, until you ended up doing the same, then bam! in a heartbeat, she’d reeled in some other sucker. According to June, she’d been using the L-word with the other fool, too. That was your first wake-up call, when you would’ve hung yourself in the attic if not for June. Then you came to college and met Todd, who taught you to “tilt the balance of power, then preserve it.”
Now June was a high school senior, getting ready to apply to colleges. On her visit, you took her to a champagne party at the frat—a relatively tame event, but June, a lightweight with alcohol, had no idea the shark tank she was swimming in.
“I can handle myself,” she said, when you hovered close.
So you babysat from a distance.
Todd showed up and pulled you aside.
“Got a prime one for you, Snooch.” He wrote the dorm, room number, and building code on your palm. “She’s tanked and dyin’ for it. Go have a ball.”
“Fuckin’ A!” You stared at your hand.
Todd shrugged. “Hey, share the wealth, right? Night’s young. Prospects loom.”
You pointed across the hall. June, squatting, patted the back of some kneeling freshman puking into a champagne bucket.
“Can’t do it. Look at her,” you said.
“Course you can.”
“June’s already shitfaced. I don’t keep an eye on her, the brothers are gonna scam.”
“I’ll make sure they know who she is.”
“Yeah?”
Todd shooed you off. “No worries.”
“She’s clean for real, T,” you warned him. “No joke.”
“Trust me, Snooch. Pussy Police. June’s on lock-down with your boy.”
When you returned twenty minutes later, Todd and June couldn’t be found. You checked your dorm, then searched the frat again.
“Try the fuckin’ bushes,” Munta Face suggested.
You circled back to your room and found Todd sitting in front of the TV, watching The Hills Have Eyes, the only light in the room. June lay passed out on his bed.
“How was it?” Todd asked.
“How was what?”
“The girl.”
“Fuckin’ comatose.”
Todd laughed. “You give her sugar plum dreams?”
“Where were you and June?”
“Took her for coffee,” responded Todd, pausing the movie. “Then I brought her back.”
“Coffee?”
“At the Union.” One side of his face glowed in the light of the screen. “She was too lit to sleep.”
“The whole house thinks you bopped her.”
Todd turned off the TV and the room went dark.
“Snooch,” he said, “your sister’s safe with me.” He got up. “Can’t trust everything you hear.”
Then he bounced.
Next morning he had a puffy eye. Said he’d smacked around Munta Face for talking shit.
“Too bad my eye ran into his knee,” he said.
*
June stuck around her whole spring break. She and Todd kept disappearing. One night at the frat, you looked out at the back lawn and saw them alone. Todd lifted her to kiss her, then spun her around. “You Shook Me All Night Long” blasted behind you as you and your brothers drank blue electric punch.
You burst in on them a couple of times in the dorm room. They’d be inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes, then separate at the sight of you. Every night, they’d sit outside the door giggling and shushing each other. You woke once to go piss. Todd sat in the hall, rubbing her feet, had them right there on his fucking lap.
“Snooch,” he said, when June joined some campus volunteers to tutor at the local grammar school. “You’re sister’s a cool fuckin’ chick.”
That’s what he called sorority pledge trainers who let him suggest initiation ceremonies that he later finagled his way into.
“Not the type of babe you wanna bop and that’s it,” he added.
A week ago, he would’ve said only wusses talked like that.
*
Turned out you had a class when June needed a lift to the airport.
“Todd’ll drive me,” she said.
“Todd’ll drive me,” you mimicked.
“How cute, you’re possessive,” she said. “About him or about me?”
“You and Todd can go skipping off into the sunset for all I give a shit,” you said.
“You know that shiner he has?” she said. “I gave it to him. Popped him right in the eye after he tried to grab my boob.”
“You’re fuckin’ clueless, June.”
“He was drunk,” she said. “That’s not really him.”
“The Todd who grabbed your tit,” you said, “is the Todd we’re friends with around here.”
“It’s just his way of dealing with things,” she said. “He’s actually a sweetheart.”
“Jesus, June.”
When Todd returned from the airport, you sat waiting in the room.
“We’re going out tonight,” you said.
“Sure, Snooch.”
“Hard core. We’re gonna hit the bars hard core,” you said. “Scare up some fuckin’ talent.”
Todd nodded. “All over it, Snooch.”
*
That night, the two of you met some ball-eyed local skag, Beth, at a bowling alley and brought her back to campus. Boy was she a sasquatch, but, according to Todd, nothing brave about bopping a beauty queen.
“Bop a beast!” he liked to say. “Dicknocchio! Makes your dick grow!”
Classic Todd how he got Beth to agree to go back with you. He sat beside her at the bar, where she was reading a book.
“What’s it about?” Todd asked.
“Spiritual warriors,” Beth replied.
“What’re those?”
“Special beings.”
“Beings? You mean they be? Don’t we all do that?”
“Most apparently,” she said.
“Most apparently this,” Todd said, pointing at the boner bulging through his shorts. “Most apparently I’m pretty hot for you right now.”
“Most apparently,” said ball-eyed Beth.
She followed you out to Todd’s Explorer. Todd worked on her the whole drive back.
“Yo, Snooch,” he said. Beth sat in the passenger seat. “Check out her hands.”
“Gorgeous,” you said.
“Honey,” he said. “Hold them up to the light.”
Beth obliged.
“Look at that bone structure!”
“The best,” you said.
“Like a queen’s,” said Todd. He looked at her. “You got blue blood in you?”
“Depends what you mean by blue,” she said.
“I like this chick,” Todd said. “Chauffeuring around a queen who gets our jokes. Hey, queenie, hope you didn’t take offense at my moment of unbridled passion at the bar. Couldn’t help myself.”
“Most apparently,” said Beth.
“Hey, Snooch,” he said. “You know what Beth’s hands could do? All shittin’ aside?”
“What’s that?” you said.
“Tip the hat of a bishop.” Todd glanced at her. “Only queens can tip the hat of a bishop.”
“You learn that in college?” she said.
“Yup.”
“You must study a lot.”
“See,” said Todd. “A sense of fuckin’ humor.”
You hoped for more than tipping the hat.
*
You brought Beth and the “bop blanket” to the practice fields. (“Thou shalt not let the fat and ugly know where you live”—one of Todd’s “Coozemandments”). Not a soul in sight. A warm, clear midnight. Todd convinced her to do a striptease. She hopped and spun, tossing clothing in the air, oddly graceful for a fat girl, like the hippos in Fantasia, which June had made you watch once when you were kids. One by one, Todd collected Beth’s clothes under his arm.
Finally slipping out of her bra and panties, she threw out her hands to strike a pose.
“Ta da!” she said.
Her swinging melons gave you instant wood.
Then Todd bolted for the trees.
You stood stunned for a moment, then took off after him. “T!”
You found him squatting behind a bush two hundred feet away, gasping for breath.
“T,” you said. “What the fuck? She’s beggin’ for it.”
Todd hugged the clothes to his stomach. “You bop her, Snooch. I’m good.”
“No, we bop her together.”
“Not in the mood.”
“For Fuck’s sake!” you said.
Todd kept quiet, except for his breathing.
“Look,” you said, “you had your fling. June’s back at high school.” You pointed toward the field. “Now can the two of us please bop the bitch?”
Beth spoke up, squeezing her legs together and covering her tits. “I need my clothes back,” she said.
Todd stood from behind the bush and heaved them in her direction.
“Look at your fuckin’ self!” he shouted. “Why do you let us treat you this way?”
Then he started sprinting for the dorms. You rubbed one out while watching Beth pick up her clothes, then hauled ass after him.
*
For days, Todd didn’t show his face in the room. Finally, you ran into him in the library.
“Hey,” you said. “Remember me?”
He looked up. He had a stack of books beside him while he wrote a letter on some gay-ass stationary. He went back to writing.
“Great to see you, too,” you said.
He kept scribbling.
“You gonna jack off on that when you’re done?” you said.
That got him to sit up straight and give you the time of day.
“If you’re gonna talk like that, Snooch, fuck off,” he said.
“Who’d have thought the day would come when you couldn’t take a joke?”
“Your sister and I are serious, Snooch,” he said.
“She’s in fuckin’ high school,” you said. Then you dropped one of his favorite mottos. “Think of all the poon out there to spear.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” he said.
“Get that you’ve become a faggot?” you said.
“Yup,” said Todd. “Since June.”
*
Without Todd as wingman, you weren’t getting laid, so you returned home one weekend to study for finals. All June’s talk about Todd made you sick. She actually assumed you were happy for her.
“Remember Sabrina?” she said one night, as if calling up the good old days.
“Not if I can help it,” you said.
“You got through it,” she said.
“Yup. Lesson learned.”
“At least you still believe in love, or you wouldn’t let Todd and me date.”
“Why wouldn’t I let you date my best friend?” you said.
“He’s told me about his past.”
“You’re an adult,” you said. “You can handle yourself.”
“I know you’ve done some things too,” she said. “But it’s a phase, just like it was with him.”
“A phase, huh? What exactly has he told you?”
You sat at the card table in the basement, preparing for your macroeconomics exam. June stood with a bowl of cereal, eating it on her feet. She slurped down a spoonful and stared at you.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’ve accepted it. He turned the corner.”
“Turned the corner?” you said. “What kind of corner are we talking about?”
“The night at the practice fields,” she said. “How he ran away and told that poor girl to respect herself.”
You shut your textbook and sat back in your chair.
“He gave her clothes back and ran away,” she said. “He didn’t do anything. You guys didn’t have sex with her.”
“Lemme get this straight,” you said. “He told you we didn’t bop the broad?”
“Don’t lie,” she said, placing the bowl on the table.
“We ran away after we bopped her,” you said. “Todd fucked her in the end zone, then threw her fuckin’ clothes into the trees.”
June reached for her phone. “Could I have a little privacy, please?”
“Before believing in love, ya gotta face reality,” you said. “And don’t leave your dirty dishes around for others to pick up.”
You headed upstairs with her bowl and your book.
*
Back on campus, Todd was waiting for you.
“Snooch, she never even told me why.”
You dropped your duffel bag and nodded, as though commiserating.
“Was it something I did?” he asked.
“Fuckin’ chicks, man,” you said. “Forget it.”
“She’s your sister, Snooch. Tell me what I did.”
“Let it go, man. Water under the bridge.”
“Godammit, Snooch! Tell me what I fuckin’ did!”
You held up a hand. “Chill, T. Don’t get up in my shit.”
“Snooch, just tell me the truth. I can handle it.”
“Sure you can. Just roll with it.”
He stood with his eyes shut, as though preparing for a bullet.
“Give it to me straight. No bullshit.”
“She dumped you for a fuckin’ high school kid.”
“Jesus,” he said, taking the bullet in the gut.
“What didja expect?” you said. “Just cuz she’s my sister doesn’t mean she ain’t like the rest.”
You figured he’d snap out of his funk by fall.
*
That summer, your college gave June a scholarship and she decided to enroll.
“What about Todd?” you said.
“Like my sole concern in life is avoiding ex-boyfriends?” she said.
You broke Todd the news over the phone, three weeks before returning to campus.
He took it like a champ, or so it seemed. “Been thinking, Snooch. What’s done is done.”
“Word!” you said.
“Hell, if I was her, I’d have been skeptical, too. It’s good she’ll be at school, cuz then she’ll see that the hype is real.”
*
That September, Todd ran for frat president and won. June still kept her distance, but asked you about the election results over lunch at the Student Union. She went silent over her Ramen noodles when you told her Todd won.
“You still hung up on him?”
“Just curious. People change.”
“Not in your wildest dreams, June.”
The self-serve bell rang.
“I think your bagel is ready,” June said.
Todd set about replacing the Hall of Shame—pilfered panties, stained sheets, and broken condoms—with old-school composites: grids of guys in tweed sportcoats, posing with their house mothers. Your brothers now followed Todd into old-age homes and ghetto centers with the same oafish enthusiasm that you used to follow him into strip clubs. He reinstated ritual at chapter meetings, appointed a sergeant-at-arms to keep order and levy fines, organized volunteer work. Meals improved and house repairs got done, all at the expense of the Booze & Cooze Fund.
Then—what a coincidence!—Student Union Charities, where June volunteered, started working in cahoots with the frat.
Although you kept dragging pledges to local snatch-havens, you couldn’t get any action. Freshman meat everywhere, drunk on booze and personal freedoms, but none gave you and your boys the time of day.
One night, after coming up empty yet again, you returned to your room to find Todd and June cuddling on your couch.
“Been waiting for you,” said June.
“Fuckin’ liar,” said Todd. “I thought we were brothers!”
You went to the sink to wash your face.
“Perfect Hollywood ending,” you said. “Stud-boy snags the one girl that ever made it hard for him.”
“It’s not about that,” said Todd. “We’re meant for each other.”
“Meant for each other?” you said. “Listen to yourself.”
“People can change,” said June.
“Not that horseshit again.”
“And your horseshit?” She stood, made fists at her sides, and pushed her face forward. “Sabrina changed you.”
“Sabrina and Todd,” you said.
Todd refused to look at you as he followed June out of the room.
*
That night you had a wet dream, the only wet dream you’d ever had that you’d call a nightmare. You were bopping a chick nice and easy and when you looked down it was June. She was sobbing.
“But I don’t love you!” she protested.
You tried to stop but it was too late.
*
All fall, Todd and June’s public displays of affection on the campus’s winding paths made you want to puke. They held hands while meeting with professors, fed each other ice cream at The Scoop, lingered lovingly before dashing to class, as if an hour apart couldn’t be endured. When you crossed paths, you met their cordiality with contempt.
One morning, Todd showed up for breakfast at the frat house, eyes bloodshot, looking like shit.
“Went all the way with her last night,” you overheard him say.
You stared at your cornflakes going soggy in the half-sour milk.
Then he noticed you and sat down at the table. “I miss our antics sometimes, Snooch,” he said.
“All the way?” you said. “Sounds like something schoolgirls say at summer camp.”
Then you stood and walked off.
*
Two days later, the frat had an exec meeting. When you entered the windowless Chapter Room, Back in Black played on the stereo. Todd and the rest of the frat officers stood around with whiskey and bourbon in plastic cups. Bottles of Jack Daniels and Jägermeister sat on tables along the wall. Shroomer, the house manager, passed you a bottle. This was more like it.
Todd, once he saw you, wasted no time. He had Munta Face, the new sergeant-at-arms, turn off the music, then he took the dais, raising what looked like a rolled up piece of parchment over his head. He had that old twinkle in his eye.
“This charter,” he said, “represents the new,” he stared at you, “and, some would say, repudiates the old. Tonight, we reconcile!”
He turned again to Munta Face. “Will the attesting witness please come forward!”
Munta Face disappeared into the curtained-off vestibule and re-emerged with the hottest piece of ass the frat had ever hired for an event—a red-headed mulatto with beaded hair wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head.
Her long legs, high ass, and tight breasts, clad in smock-like lingerie, reminded you of a volleyball player. June had played volleyball—one of the best setters in the high school league, always taking that second touch and putting it right in the wheelhouse of one of the high-flying hitters.
Todd led her to a doctor’s examination table rescued last year from Goodwill. She stripped naked, revealing the tattoo of a dreamcatcher below her panty line. The indentation of the elastic still marked her skin. Todd flattened out the charter, so she could hop up and lay back on it.
“To set this train in motion,” said Todd, “will Snooch-a-doodle-dandy please step up.”
The music kicked in again: “Let Me Put My Love into You.” Someone threw a fistful of condoms into the room. Your brothers began to hop up and down.
“Snooch! Snooch! Snooch!” they chanted, as you unbuckled your pants.
Angus Young screamed. Drums thudded. The reverb. Your dick didn’t respond. You stroked yourself and breathed. You shut your eyes and imagined the guitar licks sucking you off. Nothing.
“Hit that! Hit that! Hit that!” your brothers chanted.
You opened your eyes. The whore patted her snatch and motioned you forward.
The image of Todd swinging your sister in the dark flashed in your mind.
“All you, Snooch!” his voice broke through. “You’re the locomotive, I’m the caboose.”
Someone pushed you from behind and then Todd was beneath you as you drove your fists and elbows into his eye sockets and across the bridge of his nose. You heard his muffled speech through the barrage. By the time your brothers pulled you off, he had stopped moving.
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