Rednecks And Longnecks - Jack Norton - E-Book

Rednecks And Longnecks E-Book

Jack Norton

2,49 €


Things were about to get very interesting for Chad, for Darleen, for Brandy and for Booger. By the end of the night two would be dead, one would be missing and one would be in jail.

Welcome to life on the shores of the Redneck Riviera. A world where sin runs rampant, lust drives men mad, women rule with power over their prey and justice is a fleeting line. A world without caution, in the great state of Alabama, where nothing makes sense - except the desire for even more depravity and sin.

The rules of the game are simple. There are no rules.

A slow burning crime thriller influenced by the golden age of pulp fiction and dark noir. A riveting new short story from Emmy Award winning author Jack Norton.

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Rednecks And Longnecks

Jack Norton


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

About the Author



"If at first you don't succeed, keep on sucking and you'll eventually suck seed."

Chad howled at his own joke, nearly falling off his bar stool. His grandpa used to tell him that funny. He stole it from an old Three Stooges film. Curly somehow managed to get that one past the censors in 1936. Chad's grandpa had been dead for almost a decade now, but that doesn't really matter to our story. What matters is Chad is a drunk. And a redneck. And he spends most every evening at places like The Fur Trapper, a makeshift titty bar located out on Route 231. That's where Chad is right now.

The beer was cheap, the girls were easy and life was good for Chad. Not as good as it could be, but good enough. He had an old lady at home that he loved. At least, he thought he loved her. They had four kids and one more on the way. Chad worked his ass off working construction for the great state of Alabama. They'd send his ass all over the state, by now he'd probably re-paved half the roads south of Birmingham. It wasn't too bad. Fresh air, hard work, decent money. The crew he was usually partnered with weren't too bad either, except for all The Illegals. Chad hated them, with their constant yap-yap-yapping in Mexican. He hated when The Illegals talked Mexican. It just wasn't right. If you're gonna come to America, you damn well better learn to speak American, Chad had thought to himself more than several times a day.

Largely his crew consisted of guys from his hometown, most of them graduated from high school the same year as Chad.

"Fuck college," Chad would say. "College is for pussies and fags."

Since Chad was neither a pussy nor a fag, he didn't elect to go to college. Rather, he went straight to work. First for a local excavation company and then finally the job with the state. Brandy was already six months pregnant when Chad graduated from high school and he'd be damned if his kid wasn't gonna grow up with a father. So Chad did the right thing and married Brandy. Two weeks after graduation. He was tipsy, but not drunk enough for the judge to kick them out. They got married at the courthouse. Two buddies from the football team served as witnesses. Brandy was still hiding her pregnancy, she was only fourteen after all.

Now, only twenty-three, Brandy had lost her looks, her body and her motivation to become a cosmetologist. She lost it all somewhere along the way of four, soon to be five, kids that just came a-poppin' out. She hated when Chad was on the road with the crew. She knew every night was spent getting drunk and going to strip clubs all across the state. She told herself Chad was a good man, that he wouldn't fuck around on her, she knew he wasn't like other men. Besides, even if he was, she had been fooling around a bit with Booger, the kid that starting working as a maintenance man for their apartment building. He was a junior in high school and reminded Brandy of Chad when they first met. Except Booger didn't drink and wasn't working all the time. Things had gotten complicated with Booger, in fact, Brandy wasn't a thousand and one percent sure that Baby #5 was Chad's...or Booger's. At the end of the day, that doesn't really matter either.

In fact, nothing really matters. Not to Chad, not to Brandy, not to The Illegals and most certainly not to Darleen Diamondbaby, the stripper whose oily and oversized balloon-like tits were currently being pressed into Chad's face. His buddies were cheering him on, hell, even The Illegals knew Chad might score some free road poon that night. Darleen was in deep, hot and heavy for the hunky construction worker with a crooked grin and a pocket full of five dollar bills.

Darleen Diamondbaby had moved to Dothan, Alabama from Biloxi, Mississippi. Well, technically she wasn't from Biloxi, she was from a nothing dot on the map located in Jasper County. The town she was from seemed like a cruel joke: Success. Yup, she was from a town called Success, Mississippi. A town so small the post office closed its doors back in 1900. By eleven, Darleen - whose real name she no longer discloses - was sneaking out, riding her bike to the truck stop located three miles west of town. There she would tease the truckers, play coy, score whatever she wanted, in exchange for whatever they wanted. She was in jail less than a year later. If she had graduated high school, she would have had a criminal record more impressive than her academic record. That said, Darleen's academic record ended in the eighth grade - when she simply stopped attending school. No one at home gave a flying fuck. Her memaw was an invalid cripple and her older brother was a retard, who spent his days drooling as the television set forever played the Game Show Network.