Dottie and Bree: Episode 13- Swinging from the Curtains

Dottie and Bree: Episode 13

Bree barely breathed; she was still dead to the world with blood dripping from every orifice. Even her eyes ran red as she stained the passenger seat, but Dottie was not afraid. She would save her friend as Bree had saved her too many times to count.

Dottie remembered waiting for Bree’s special knock on the hotel door of the “Orleans”. It had been a spectacular weekend for her, and she had increased their original sixteen dollars to an incredible two thousand. The divorce party was an impressive success, as those young boys had always wanted to bruise their now ex-wives. Bruising was Dottie’s specialty; she even enjoyed being tossed violently against the wall (as long as she knew it was coming). Dottie wasn’t always pleased with surprises, and sneaking upon her unaware could earn the attacker death.

She counted and recounted her cash waiting patiently for Bree; she saw some ecstasy in their immediate future and started to get internally jumpy with anticipation.

It would be an amazing week.

The knock was slower than usual, but Bree was late and most likely tired. She must have had some trouble with the sports fans at the bar downstairs and worked an extra BJ in the bathroom before making her way upstairs. Dottie bounded to the door fanning the two thousand triumphantly as she threw open the door revealing six Korean men in suits smoking brown cigarettes. She froze.

“You will come with us,” said the smallest brother Sung in slow and serious tone.

Dottie tried to scream and kick and thrash and grab and hurt, but the six Sung overwhelmed her pressing lit cigarettes into her inner thighs and fleshy underarms, trapping and pulling her out of the room. The thick door clicked with a heavy thud, and the two thousand lay scattered on the disturbingly twisted carpet.

Bree asked the cab driver to go back to the “Orleans” after she deemed it safe, and paid him with a portion of powder from the suitcase. She couldn’t wait to throw a huge pile on the glass table and watch the joy spread across Dottie’s face. Nothing pleased her more than making Dottie happy, and a suitcase full of coke would accomplish that task thousand fold.

Slightly singed cash lay scattered amongst six smashed cigarettes in front of their hotel door; Dottie would not be inside.

She tried to formulate a plan as the cab sped toward “Circus Circus”. She knew Jin-Ho Sung would be in same the smoking room on the 17th floor, but this time, he would be backed by brothers. She had no weaponry save her magical pussy, and hoped it would be enough to convince the seven Brothers Sung to let them live. She would have to make the switch and save Dottie; she would be brave.

Bree could hear the music and laughter down the hall. She approached the noise with trepidation, but heard Dottie’s distinct party whoop. Knocking seven times on the door, she held the briefcase outstretched and awaited the onslaught of pain.

The door swung open to reveal seven Korean brothers in differing states of undress, noses caked in white and Dottie swinging from the horribly patterned polyester curtains. She screamed in joy at Bree’s arrival as the curtain rod disengaged from the wall and she fell onto the coffee table laughing hysterically.

“I’m here to make a trade; I’ll take Dottie now. I’m sorry about the suitcase.”

“We’re keeping Dottie, and the suitcase. You’ll be staying as well.”

Dottie rose from the table rubbing her bottom, “Boys, this has been fun, but it’s time for me to go. Thanks a lot for the coke. It’s ok about the cigarette burns and the kidnapping. It’s not the first time, and suppose it won’t be…”

A swift kick to her head knocked her unconscious and she crumpled to the carpet bleeding from her nose. Bree remembered where Jin-Ho’s gun was kept and leapt for the jacket on the bed. She got to the gun first but was covered in Koreans. They were ferally biting and beating her mercilessly. She magically escaped from their clutches and rolled across the smelly coverlet toward the broken window shooting toward the mass of men.

One of them was bleeding; none of them were dead.

She successfully scared them.

Bree grabbed Dottie by the hair and dragged her toward the door, collected her clothing keeping the gun pointed squarely on Jin-Ho. Just to be fair, she left the suitcase.

Dottie would live.

Now, Dottie prayed to whatever higher power existed that Bree would live. “Fucking LIVE, you WHORE!” Dottie screamed and punched the gas barefoot forcing the speedometer to exceed 110 MPH. The car shook violently so Dottie couldn’t feel the difference between the rattling intensity of the trunk and the car hurling itself though darkness.

Mexico whispered wanton dreams of churros and bars and life.

“This isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen, Universe!” She yelled at the sky. The convertible was opened to the infinitely majestic stars to dry the blood on Bree’s naked body. The wind swept across them as Dottie unleashed her soul, “I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HER!”

Bree coughed and sputtered blood onto the dash and moved for the first time since Dottie scooped her from the roadway. She examined her hands cautiously and curiously felt her forehead. “They’re gone. The horns. The hoofs. Gone.” She exhaled relief and gingerly sat upright in the seat. “I did it. I defeated them. There were so many, but I won. I win.”

“We need to get you cleaned up, Darling.” Dottie refused to let her see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she swiped the back of her hand across her nose, “We’re almost there.”

Bree reached out a crusted arm and patted Dottie softly, “You’re doing an excellent job.”