Regan Wolfrom - Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men

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Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Nine Women. Nine Stories. And nothing ordinary about them. From the slightly askew mind of Regan Wolfrom comes this collection of hilariously dark tales of love, death, and
timing.
Heather Smythe Pretty. Shy. About as lapsed as a Catholic can get.
Heather’s trapped in the a cult of killer succubi with a taste for East Hollywood douches.
(“High Times at the Sixth Annual Succubus Sisters Garage and Bake Sale”)
Amanda Hackensack Somewhat tall. Can’t dunk. Never knew her father.
Amanda wakes up in a world of voodoo and zombies that she knows shouldn’t exist.
(“The Zombification of Amanda Hackensack”)
Marguerite Frunkel Lonely. Awkward. Painfully ginger.
Marguerite finds two strange little gnomes who show her just what she’s been missing.
(“Gnome on Girl on Gnome: A Love Story”)
Laura Daniels Political outsider. Maverick. Avowed crazy cat lady.
Laura learns the sinister truth behind her unexpected electoral success.
(“The Siamese Candidate”)
Stephanie Munro Hard working. Hard drinking. Hard to please.
Stephanie comes to regret taking a trip on the edge of the world with people she knows she shouldn’t trust.
(“The Raven’s Head Dagger and the Custom of the Seas”)
Marie-Claire Grimson Pink hair. Pretty smile. Likes to eat people.
Marie-Claire may soon discover that meat is murder no matter how you slice it.
(“Vegans Are F**king Delicious”)
Maddy McKay A little lonely. A little self-conscious. Starving to death.
Maddy’s trying to slim down to starving model size, but her little housemates don’t seem all that supportive.
(“Maddy McKay and the Elves in Her House”)
Vanessa Dervoe Softball legend. Proud Yooper. Breathes underwater.
Vanessa’s strange gift has gotten her nowhere in life, stuck in a sad amusement park and surrounded by death.
(“The Ocean Goddess and The Home Run Queen”)
Kara Hermin Mysterious. Troubled. Loads of fun at parties.
Kara’s lived a long and dangerous life, and may be forced to live it all over again.
(“Born Again at Granny’s Cave”)
I’ve always been drawn to stories about women who are
, like not necessarily because of their skill with a broadaxe or their ability to toss on their nunsuit and fly over the streets of Lubbock, Texas.
These stories are about women who are thrown into situations that are completely what the f**k, and about how they work to take control of their destinies.
Oh, and
. And
, of course. And something about
. I did mention
, right?
Regan Wolfrom
Harry the Adventurous Hamster After a break from writing to attend puberty, and to eventually sell six packs of Molson Canadian to his misnamed crush, Moosehead Girl, Regan returned to the craft with reckless abandon and a gallon jug of iced tea with just a smattering of extremely cheap rum.
Regan is now the author of the
series (with only one mention — so far — of zombie erections) and the slightly less controversial
series (which, while appropriate for a YA audience, is still more likely to have
zombie erections at some point). Regan hopes to one day write a novel set on Mars while sitting in his boxer shorts on the actual Red Planet, and everything that comes before that is really just his way of saving up for the one-way trip.
Though Regan has been shafted by residency requirements in his pursuit of the MacArthur genius grant, his current fiction is considered to be of high caliber, reflecting a marked improvement in style and grammar from the aforementioned thing with the hamster. It also has far fewer graphic scenes of pound puppy plushes having sex in the back of a shoebox with paper wheels.
What does Regan have to say about Regan? For a more in-depth tour of Regan’s unresolved childhood issues, be sure to read one of his stories. From the Author
About the Author “I recently passed up the chance to hassle Samuel L. Jackson.” “I’ve always wanted to change my name to something boring, like Hugh Howey.” “I know how to cook six things. None of them are oatmeal.” “I write stories that are weird, a little dark, and definitely inappropriate for my children. It could be tough to keep that going when they get to be as old and weird as I am today.” “Oh… and my dog is in love with me… like… in a disturbing way.”

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“So what are you going to do with me?” Cadance asked. “Are you going to let me go?”

“Do you have problems listening?” Kathleen said. “We’re going to drug you up, like the other girls.”

“Oh… I thought you were talking about the other three.”

“Amanda’s immune. Isn’t that what Gary told you? So it would be pretty hard to turn her into a zombie if she can’t be turned into a zombie. You following me so far?”

“So what are you going to do to her?” Cadance asked.

“Gary’s taking her,” Kathleen said. “Something about a trip to scenic Lake George.”

Gary licked his goddamn lips again.

“I really think you should just shoot me,” I said.

“I won’t get into it,” she said. “Just trust me that I’ll be a lot happier if your corpse is weighted down at the bottom of a lake. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some macoutes to round up.” She turned back to Gary. “Put them in a cell. We need to count the corpses… there’d better be nine of them. Pouchon had better be there.”

“Pouchon was nothing,” Gary said. “I’m sure he’s dead.”

“You’ve always been too sure of things. I guess that’s how you lost your pharmacist license.”

He bristled but didn’t reply.

They brought us into the building.

“The macoutes must still be in the yard,” Kathleen said. “I’m guessing you didn’t give any of them access cards?”

“We forgot,” one of the gunmen said.

“Dammit, Davis…”

“Well you weren’t there.”

She seemed surprised by the sharpness of his response.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am.”

“Just open a cell,” she said.

He did as she asked, holding the door open.

“Come on, girls,” Kathleen said. “Time’s a wastin.”

We walked inside.

Davis closed the door.

There was nothing we could do but wait.

картинка 26

After about fifteen minutes, the door to the cell opened.

We all stepped back.

Arty appeared in the doorway.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a whisper. “I’ll get you girls out.”

He pulled out a small pocket knife and started cutting my cuffs.

“Sorry about poking you with a cattle prod,” I said.

“I’m over it. Actually, no… if we get out of here I’m probably going to want to poke you back.”

I smiled. “I don’t think you meant that the way it sounded.”

“We’ll see,” he said.

Once the cuffs were all cut, he picked Julia up and threw her over his shoulder.

“They’re still looking for Pouchon,” he said. “They can’t find his body and they’re worried.”

“Why are they worried?” I asked.

“They think he’s like her. That the macoutes can’t hurt him.”

“Like they had a chance to kill him and they didn’t?”

“Yeah, but I think there’s more to it.”

He led us out of the building and out to the parking lot.

“We’ll just have to keep walking,” he said. “Unless one of you girls knows how to hotwire a truck.”

“They’ll catch up to us,” I said.

“We’ll split up… head into the woods.”

“Bad idea,” Cadance said. “There are still two missing zombies out there.”

“There are dozens of zombies back there,” I said. “I’ll take the two.”

“We should stick together,” Julia said from her perch. “Strength in numbers.”

“I doubt that’ll help,” Cadance said.

“It can’t hurt,” I said.

We went into the forest, moving into single file through the beech and yellow birch. Sunrise was starting, which made finding our way a little easier.

Cadance was in front while Arty and Julia brought up the rear.

It was quiet, aside from some bird or other, and it didn’t feel like the kind of place you’d find a macoute lying in wait. It seemed like the kind of place you’d go on romantic walks with that guy you were sorta into, hoping he’d make up some lame excuse to brush up against your ass or something.

I heard something crashing through the trees in front of us.

Cadance veered to her left and started running.

I stopped and motioned for everyone else to do the same.

I saw the figures ahead of us. Two men moving quickly, their footsteps crunching on the undergrowth, moving after Cadance.

They seemed too quick to be zombies.

Cadance tripped.

“Leave her,” sayra said to me. “She’s not worth it.”

The footsteps stopped. I couldn’t see the men. I didn’t know why they weren’t moving.

I heard Julia scream.

I turned around.

Two more men were behind us. They’d pulled Arty down, and Julia had gone down with him. Arty was kicking and punching one of the men, but he was losing. I couldn’t see Julia.

I reached down and grabbed the biggest stick I could find. I wasn’t sure what I was doing.

I ran toward them.

I shoved it at the nearest of the two men, aiming for his chest. It struck him and cracked. He punched me in the neck and I fell into the needles of an evergreen, slamming my head against the trunk.

Julia started screaming.

Rete trankil! ” a voice called out.

The screaming stopped.

I found my way out of the pine tree, pulling needles out of my hands. They’d impaled me with such force that my skin was broken and bleeding in places.

The two men were still, standing over Arty and Julia.

Behind them was Pouchon. His face was torn and bloody, but it seemed like he hadn’t noticed.

Pati ,” Pouchon said.

The two men walked into the trees and soon they were gone.

“What the hell?” I said.

“The escaped zombies,” Pouchon said. “Hopefully they’ll leave you alone now.”

I knelt down beside Julia.

“I don’t think I can walk,” she said. “But that’s nothing new. Oh… but the broken ribs are.”

“I think Arty’s dead,” Cadance said. She was standing over him, not close enough to help or anything.

“Nice of you to come back,” I said.

“I thought we were all going to run. Sorry.”

Sayra came over and knelt alongside me. She gently put her finger to Arty’s wrist.

She didn’t say anything.

“Of course he’s dead,” Pouchon said. “The macoutes attacked him first because he was the biggest threat.”

“Smart macoutes ,” I said.

“Not your grandpappy’s zombies.”

“We need to get out of here,” Cadance said.

“We can’t move her,” I said.

“We’ll need to split up,” Pouchon said.

“How are you part of the ‘we’ on this?” I asked. “Don’t you remember wanting to eat me?”

“Oh, so you’ve got a choice all of the sudden? Unless you have the power to control the macoutes , you’re pretty much stuck with me.”

“You’re more dangerous than the macoutes ,” Cadance said.

“I’m not a killing machine,” Pouchon said. “People change. And I’m more than willing to come to an understanding.”

“Not interested,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because we can’t trust you.”

“Fine. I’ll call my friends back over here for breakfast.” He cupped his hand over his bloody mouth. “ Vini macoutes mwen ,” he called. “ Vini .”

I couldn’t see them yet, but I heard their footsteps.

“What do you want us to do?” I asked.

“Just you,” Pouchon said. “I need you to go back with me.”

“Why?”

“The money.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. “You want to walk back to a place where there are two guys with assault weapons and a woman who apparently won’t die… and all for a little bit of walking around money?”

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