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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“I guess.”

She glared at me. “Well I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?”

“Sorry.”

She opened the sliding door and led me into another well-lit hallway, but one without any horse stalls. The one wall was lined with a row of metal doors like self-storage units.

We turned right and kept walking.

“Are you a friend of Cadance’s?” the girl asked. She seemed friendly again.

“Acquaintances,” I said.

“I could see that.”

We came to a final metal door that looked just like the others, except that it seemed like a push instead of a pull. The girl took out a key card out of her pocket and held it up to a small reader box. The door beeped and she pushed it open, and then we stepped out to a well-kept yardsite. There was a large two-story house that looked just like what you’d expect to see in the Vermont countryside, painted shutters on the windows and a perfectly arranged ring of red and blue flowers in painted white beds.

“Is your car over there?” the girl asked.

“Maybe…”

“You’re good to go?”

“I think so. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.”

“No worries. I know what it’s like to be new around here.”

I nodded as I kept moving toward the gravel parking lot.

The girl smiled and turned back toward the stables.

“What are you doing, Tiara?” a voice called out. The man with the duffel bag.

“What’s wrong?” the girl said.

“That girl there… she’s one of the new hires.”

“New hires?” She looked back over to me. “Blimey. So that’s why she was in the back.”

“My god you’re an idiot.”

“Bugger off,” she said. And then she started running after me.

I started to run, too; I was relieved to see that I was able to move quite a bit faster. I was out of the lot and up the road before she’d even cleared the parked cars.

“You’ve got the controller, Gary,” she yelled. “Close the bloody gate!”

I saw the gate as I rounded a bend in the road. And true to my luck, it was closing.

I didn’t bother trying to speed up. It was closed long before I could have reached it, and the fence it sealed off was almost as high as the one in the back paddocks.

I sat down on the grass and waited.

Tiara and the man with the duffel bag arrived soon enough.

“This is one of the new hires?” she asked.

“Obviously.”

“We’re using girls now? And why the hell isn’t she drugged?”

“I already told Cadance. She’s immune.”

“Bullocks.”

“Please stop saying that.”

She jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “Don’t push me, Gary. I’m pretty sure you work for me.”

“I work for your father, who works for Ms. Shannard.”

“And she isn’t here… so I’m it.”

“You don’t want to cross her, darling.”

“I’m not scared of Kathleen Shannard,” Tiara said.

“You should be.”

She laughed. “Oooo… I think I just pissed myself.”

The man sighed and looked at me. I didn’t feel that much sympathy for the man who’d shot an electrical current into my boobs.

“You can’t keep me here,” I said.

“We can’t let you go,” Gary said. “So what are the alternatives?”

“As long as she digs her own fecking grave,” Tiara said.

“What are you actually expecting from me?” I asked. “Am I supposed to live in a horse stall and shovel muck all day?”

“Among other things,” Gary said. “That was the main point of bringing you here, yes.”

“And drugging the seven shades of shit out of her,” Tiara said. “But you couldn’t get that part right, Gary.”

“Do you understand the concept of immunity?”

Tiara knelt down and grabbed me by my chin. She stared into my eyes for a moment. “Take her back to the table,” she said. “Drug her again.”

“I’m not doing that. She’s immune.”

“You’d better be sure of that,” Tiara said. “What if you’re wrong? What will Ms. Shannard say then?”

“I’m not wrong,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Well… it might kill her.”

“I hope it does,” someone else said. Cadance knelt down beside me, her mouth cut and still bleeding. “Do you see what this bitch did to me?”

“She kicked your ass,” Gary said.

“Shut up. And pick her up.”

“She’s gotta weigh one-forty.”

“Shut up,” I said.

“If she dies on the table,” Tiara said. “Well… problem solved, I guess.”

“I suppose,” Gary said.

He lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder.

I decided not to bother kicking my legs like an idiot. I knew I had no way to escape. They’d drug me again, whatever that meant. And I wasn’t sure whether it would be a good thing for those drugs not to work.

So far the other options didn’t sound too good.

картинка 16

They took me back into the long building that connected the stables, Gary carrying me past over a dozen doors before they found the right one, completely identical to the others.

Tiara unlocked it and Gary brought me to what I’m pretty sure was an operating table for horses, with a motorized crane hanging overtop and a bench with more padding than you’d expect.

My wrists and ankles were bound to the four poles at each corner of the table, with my head hanging ever so slightly off the edge. I’d expected them to strip me down, probably from seeing too many bad cartoons of alien probing, but that didn’t happen. That’s a good thing, what with my Hello Kitty underwear; it always looks a lot cooler in the store.

“I’m not dealing with the mess if she dies,” Gary said as he put on a pair of latex gloves.

“Don’t worry,” Cadance said, “we’ll feed her to the pigs.”

“Again, Cadance… that was a joke. You’d better not poison my pigs with all the crap I’m about to shoot into this girl.”

“You’re not making me feel good about this,” I said.

“It could be worse,” Tiara said.

“It will be worse,” Cadance said. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Hold her by the neck,” Gary said. “You, Cadance. And Tiara… try to pin her elbows. She needs to be still.”

The girls held me down and it hurt like hell.

I didn’t fight it. I’ve given enough blood to know that there’s no upside to making someone miss your vein.

Gary took out a syringe and injected a light green fluid into my arm.

I laid on the table and waited, not that I had any other choice.

He watched me. I wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see.

He licked his lips again.

Cadance kept her grip on my neck, pressing harder than she needed to but apparently a tiny bit less than it’d take to kill me.

“Now what?” I gasped.

“Nothing,” Gary said.

No one did anything for almost a full minute, aside from Cadance’s continuing squeeze on my airway.

“Yup,” Gary said. “Nothing. I told you, Tiara. This girl’s immune to the toxin. Just like Ms.—”

“How can you be so sure?” Tiara asked. “I mean, honestly…”

“Well, she’s still awake… she hasn’t vomited… she hasn’t soiled herself…”

“Can I go now?” I asked as Cadance loosened her grip on my throat.

“You’re not winning us over,” she said.

“We can’t let her go,” Gary said. “Ms. Shannard’s told me what to do.”

“We’re supposed to kill her?”

“I won’t tell anybody,” I said. “Just let me go and I’ll forget all about it.”

“Now you’re just pissing us off,” Cadance said.

“You can’t just kill me.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Tiara said. “Give me something I can use to change their minds.”

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