Page 36 of Cookout Carnage
Shit. I get the door mostly closed when I see Scooter reach for some bimbo’s head to suck his cock.
“Don’t touch the hair.”
“Can I come down your throat?”
“You have to so that it doesn’t get on the dress. Now give me that slicked-up cock of yours, cowboy.”
I freeze. The warmth of the bourbon trail down my gullet is super icy now. It’s Tanya.
JONATHAN: Tristan! You have to come to the library. I’m stuck in the bathroom while Tanya sucks off my best man. Oh. God. He just called his dick a jackhammer.
TRISTAN: Library? Like I’m supposed to know the layout of the 4th- St. Mary’s church of Fairview.
JONATHAN: FUCKING find me. There are books. I’m on the left side of the church. Interrupt them so I can get the hell out of here. Ew. He just said, “Work my jackhammer like a concrete mixer.” What does that even mean?
TABI: He has a construction fetish? Tris, open all the doors, then take pictures. I’m getting popcorn.
JONATHAN: TRISTAN! They’re moaning. Find me.
TABI: That is the greatest text of my life.
SABRINA: Pictures, or it didn’t happen.
JONATHAN: {Picture of door cracked and Tanya on her knees in front of best man}
I close the door quietly, and it snicks with a strange sound. I turn it, but I can’t open it.
BEN: Bravo to her technique.
Fuck it, this ends now. I reach for the handle. I hope he blows all over her tacky-ass dress with the purple iridescent sequins and what appears to be shiny seashells glued to the bodice. Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to see it, but there’s only one dry cleaner/seamstress in town.
The doorknob won’t turn. Shit. Now I’m stuck in here. I quickly open the small drawer on the crooked little table, looking for, who the fuck knows? I find a pen. Who the hell is writing in this strange little bathroom? It’s got a shower as well. And it’s all tiled in institution seafoam blue. Because after I read in an out-of-place library, I always want to shower. What’s in these books?
I jab the pen at the doorknob, stabbing it until the door and my right hand are splattered with ink, but it clicks open. I try and wipe it off with toilet paper, but it sticks to me. Fuck it. I smear it down the mirror in front of me, then wipe the rest on my tuxedo pants.
Suddenly I hear Tristan enter the room.
“Pardon me. I was looking for the loo.”
I peek and see Tanya stand up.
“Oooh, you’re a British man.” She’s shameless. “I have a minute if you wanna join?” OH MY GOD. She just propositioned a three-way with my friend on her wedding day. In a church. Around the corner from everyone she knows.
Tristan clears his throat. “Lovely offer. And you do look a vision, but I’m sadly taken. I think. I think I’m taken. Or not, but the point is, no thank you.”
“What’s the loo?”
“The restroom.”
“We’ll give you some privacy. The can is through there.” I hear her clomp out and the door shut, then footsteps coming towards my door.
Tristan opens the door with a glorious smile. He looks as dapper as he did back in the airport, despite his sneakers and lack of a suit. He hugs me. I slap his back.
“Charming girl you’ve got there.” He winks.
“Christ. I have to find Jules.” I walk into the room.
“I’ll go back to the great hall and wait for the fireworks.”
