Accidental
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Accidental CrossroadsChapter 2 free porn video
Accidental Crossroads: 2.
Sammy read him the riot act. I know, I know, I know ... it's trite and does not apply but it's a statement every parent has used in trying to control an unruly kid.
So what does the riot act really say?
The Act created a mechanism for certain local officials to make a proclamation ordering the dispersal of any group of more than twelve people who were "unlawfully, riotously, and tumultuously assembled together". If the group failed to disperse within one hour, then anyone remaining gathered was guilty of a felony without benefit of clergy, punishable by death.
The proclamation could be made in an incorporated town or city by the mayor, bailiff or "other head officer", or a justice of the peace. Elsewhere it could be made by a justice of the peace or the sheriff or under-sheriff. It had to be read out to the gathering concerned, and had to follow precise wording detailed in the act; several convictions were overturned because parts of the proclamation had been omitted, in particular "God save the King".
The wording that had to be read out to the assembled gathering was as follows:
Our Sovereign Lord the King chargeth and commandeth all persons, being assembled, immediately to disperse themselves, and peaceably to depart to their habitations, or to their lawful business, upon the pains contained in the act made in the first year of King George, for preventing tumults and riotous assemblies. God Save the King! Wikipedia.
There weren't 12 boys in town ... We know there's at least two girls. Doesn't look like much of a riot.
How about this: "If you don't straighten up and fly right I'm gonna rip your arm off and beat you to death with it!"
So ... the second night John spent in the house was too fucking quiet. Nobody disturbed him at all. No nurses coming in at 2 am to stick a used anal thermometer in his mouth ... no doctor who just happened to be on duty decided to give a look-see and woke him up at 3:15 ... no physical therapist who was going on vacation as soon as he was finished with his list ... no moaning or thumping or girls in the night.
"I believe I want to have another look at that damn door," John said ... to no one in particular in everyone in general.
He got out of his lumpy bed ... it reminded him of sleeping in a foxhole ... the only thing missing was six inches of water. He made his way to the grand staircase and slipped on the fifth tread.
To his dying day, John declared that it reached out and tripped him. Going down he whacked his chin on the seventh tread and the riser below it opened up like a mousetrap snaps. He didn't know about the mousetrap because the blow to his chin produced multi-colored stars and sudden darkness. A fairly lasting darkness ... he didn't recover until daylight.
"Smells like shit in here again."
He was really out ... he had voided and it was a mess. The smell was him. There was a big claw footed tub upstairs ... biggest one he'd even seen ... big enough for two people. He could lay down in it and not hit his head or touch his feet to the ceramic coating on the 1/4 inch thick cast iron. Not that he'd been in it yet.
The down stairs bath was one of those shower tubs ... cast iron ... circular with a brass ring for a shower curtain. The baths ... the two he knew about ... were additions paid for by the interest on his bank account. So was the electricity and the coal fired steam heat boiler ... it was brass and was going to be a ton of work to get the green off.
The downstairs tub ... but he was too shitty for that.
He remembered seeing a outside hydrant by one of the basement windows ... there was a hose ... it would be cold but he could get the worst off and scrub the caked on in the shower.
Barely daylight, with the toilet brush and a big towel, he slipped out of the house and found the hydrant. He screwed on the hose and stretched out the hose, walked back and turned on the tap. The hose bucked and buckled like a run over snake but it wasn't spraying water from leaks. Following the bucking mule he grabbed the single speed nozzle and started power blasting the crap off his ass and from his balls. As more skin was revealed the scars from the ambush showed up pink against his lilly white skin.
The feeling of the powerful stream of water against his pucker created some interesting feelings but that was all. The breeding equipment was dead meat. Pretty spectacular meat, but dead just the same. Sometimes he wished they had just let him...
"But don't you be thinking like that, John. Any day looking down at green grass beats looking up at the roots."
He looked around to see if anyone heard him talking to himself. There wasn't anyone he could see.
"John, if nothing else you need to hire a housewife ... just to have someone to talk to. It's a big house and you'll never be able to do it all yourself."
The worst of the shit was washed out on the lawn ... and he knew it would stink until a skunk came along and freshened up the grass but right now the place smelled shitty.
"I wonder if Banker Shingle knows of an old widow woman or spinster who needs a job. That teller wasn't absolutely impossible to look at ... maybe there's an older sister. I believe I'll just walk down and see ... as soon as I can stand to smell myself."
Wynona
- 19.09.2020
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