The generator chugged and sputtered and stopped. Then all the lights went out again.
««—»»
"What the hell happened?" Dean complained when Ajax and Shirley returned to the candle-lit parlor. "The lights came back on for thirty seconds, then they went back out."
"Don't remind me," Ajax muttered.
"What?"
Ajax spoke with more volume. "I think something's clogging your fuel filter. You really need to maintain these things, you know."
"Damn it," Dean cursed.
Shirley's big tits wobbled beneath the sheer nightgown. She noticed Arianne's ratty cut-off shorts on the floor. "I guess it's none of my business." But, next, she noticed the broken Demilune table. "What happened here?"
"None of your business," Dean said. Arianne sat cuddled up next to him on the couch, asleep, the fur of her pubic hair glistening in candle light.
"At least she's calmed down," Shirley observed.
"What a stud!" Ajax made his own conclusion. "You slipped her the high hard one for old time's sake! Stuck it to her to the balls!"
"I did not," Dean countered.
"Oh? Then how come she's not wearing anything but halter-top smaller than the average handkerchief?"
"None of your business," Dean murmured, his arm tight about her shoulder. But before any more questions could be asked, or any more insinuations declared, the house shuddered at a loud, heavy—
CRUNK!
Dean, Ajax, and Shirley all jumped in their places.
"The fuck was that?" Ajax shouted.
"Something hit the front of the house!" Shirley exclaimed.
Dean sat rigid. "It sounded like—"
CRUNK!
The house shuddered again. Then—
CRUNK! CRUNK-CRUNK! CRUNK!
It sounded as though the front of the mansion were being assailed by random wrecking balls. Several more impacts ensued, and plaster began to sift from the ceiling.
Dean rushed to the window. At first, he could see nothing, but after the next crack of lightning—
My God!
He easily saw that the Lohan mansion was... under attack.
"Shirley!" he commanded. "Break open the gun cabinet!"
Shirley's big tits wobbled beneath the sheer night gown as she rushed to do so. Ajax inquired with a shout: "What the hell's going on?"
"They're trying to break into the house."
"Who?"
Dean's mouth froze before he could actually give voice to the reply. "Cattle!"
CRUNK-CRUNK-CRUNK! CRUNK-CRUNK!
Ajax went to the window, peered out. "You gotta be shitting me!"
But, lo, no one was shitting Ajax at all. When he glanced out the window, in the lightning-veined dark, he could see dozens of longhorned cattle rushing the mansion, ramming their brick heads against the outer walls. Dean knew that the oxen had brains that were little more than synaptic dish rags, but at this rate it was equally clear: it wouldn't take them long to break into the house.
"What happens if they break in?" Ajax moronically asked.
"Then we're all kabob!" Dean answered. "See those horns? Think they're sharp?"
Shirley re-entered the parlor with an armful of shotguns. "Here, boys!"
"Keep loading us up, Shirley!" Dean shouted. "This might take a while!" Dean and Ajax both racked rounds, then broke open the window panes. They aimed at the veritable morass of cattle charging the house and opened fire.
One blast after the next, they fired into the rainy night. Ox heads blew apart like piñatas, only it was not candy and toys which erupted from each gunshot, it was wet nuggets of brain. Ox faces exploded, blowing chunks of cud. Cattle bellies burst. Blood flew in sheets as innards uncoiled, and the sound was cacophonic: the desolate moos of psycho cattle dying in the night.
Dean and Ajax fired frenetically, popping a round, then jacking in the next, and Shirley, her big tits wobbling beneath the sheer nightgown, expertly cycled reloaded shotguns back to them. But even in this death-wave of double-00 buckshot, the oxen kept charging. Even when the killed beasts lay in piles before the house, more charged forward, ramming their great horned heads against outer walls. Each time the lightning flashed, Dean could see dozens more thundering up the hill to the mansion.
How many could they kill before one crashed through a window?
The killing went on for a solid hour, blast after blast after blast, gunsmoke stinging their nostrils, their eyes full of spots from muzzle-flash. But when it seemed to be over—
"Holy motherfucking shit," Ajax sighed.
Dean couldn't believe what he saw beyond his white-hot gun barrel. The vast hill which rose up to the Lohan Mansion lay heaped with dead and dying cattle corpses.
"Oh, man," Ajax exclaimed. "That's a lot of fucking Quarter Pounders."
"Did'ja get 'em all?" Shirley asked, her big tits wobbling beneath the sheer nightgown.
"I think so, Shirley. Christ. What's happening here?" But even as Dean asked the question, something abstract and camouflaged deep in his spirit thought he already knew.
And he knew it wasn't over yet.
Dean glanced over his shoulder, to make sure Arianne was safe; she still lay asleep on the couch. Ajax glanced over his shoulder, to make sure that Shirley's big tits were still wobbling beneath the sheer nightgown.
They were.
"I-I think we did it," Ajax sighed in relief, but just as he'd said it—
Thuh-RUNK-thuh-RUNK-thuh-RUNK...
The trampling sound could easily be heard by them both. Suddenly the house was vibrating again. Dean looked out the front bay window and at first saw nothing.
Then the lightning flashed.
"Oh, no... " he whispered.
"What?" Ajax yelled.
"Four Black Gertrudis are charging the house."
"Four what?"
"Four bulls," Dean further croaked. "The biggest species in the country. Four thousand pounds apiece... "
"Oh, that's just terrific!"
The windows exploded as if grenaded. Glass flew like shrapnel and, soon, so did bull snot, flying in long thin ropes as the four horned beasts crashed their way inside. Dean and Ajax stood back to back, facing the monstrous animals down. Their nostrils flared like turbine ducts opening and closing. But when Dean looked into their eyes, he saw the glow of something... evil.
"Fire!" Dean wailed.
Ajax pumped two rounds into the first bull's head. It exploded after the second impact. Dean killed the next two with four quick jerks of the shotgun's slide. The fourth two-fuckin'-ton bull leveled its possessed gaze and scuffed its front hoofs on the carpet.
"I got him," Ajax said. He raised the shotgun and squeezed the trigger—
click
"Fuck!" he yelled. His weapon empty, Ajax promptly saturated his pants with urine. The fourth bull began to charge—
"Oh SHIT!"