Savage Tales

She had on a swimming cap, but even without seeing her hair Othello knew she was a beaut. Even if she removed her cap and revealed a bald scalp procured through chemotherapy or choice, she would still be a beaut.
    "Oh, hello," said Othello.
    "Hi." She smiled pearly teeth at him. "Aren't you Othello, the boy reporter?"
    "Who, me?" said Othello. He closed the issue of Time magazine he was reading that featured him on the cover. "Yes, I suppose."
    "You're so modest," stroking his leg, "I'd love to hear more about your exciting adventures in foreign lands."
    "And the moon," said Othello. "I've been to the moon too."
    "Oh yes."
    She had pushed his raft to the side of the pool. They regained land. Cracker looked them over and decided he didn't like the woman.
    "Don't trust her, Othello," Cracker barked.
    "Oh, shut up, Cracker, she's just a fan. I'm gonna go show her my trophy collection."
    "You travel with your trophy collection?" she said. "Ooh, I'll be so impressed."
    "It's worth it for moments like this," said Othello. "What did you say your name was?"
    "Cleo."

    After describing his trophy collection for several hours, Othello had reaffirmed his faith in himself, which wasn't very shaky to begin with. Cleo had fallen asleep. There was a knock on the door, but she didn't stir. Othello answered it.
    "Yes?"
    Two large thugs in suits pushed their way in and conked him over the head. He passed into blackness.
    When he awoke he was tied to a chair and his head was undulating waves of pain. People were talking.
    "You were supposed to drug him," said one of the thugs.
    "He tricked me," said Cleo. "He talked about trophies. It was a drag. I thought we were going to have sex."
    Sex? Othello thought in his bruised brain. So that's what she'd been after.
    "It doesn't matter now," said a thug. "I'll call Shank and he can tell us how to dispose of him."
    Dispose? As in garbage? As in incineration and fiery or forceful death in a garbage dump? That was one adventure Othello wasn't looking forward to. But his hands and legs were tied. Some kind of tape over his mouth. Couldn't cry out. Damn. And he hadn't even gotten to ride the roller coaster through the Matterhorn.

    "So you see, boys," said Shank Splinter, "we've got Othello in our hands. The question is: what now?"
    "I don't see why we don't just rub him out," said Linus Abdul.
    "Which is why I'm the brains of this outfit," said Shank. "Othello's not your ordinary mug. We kill him and we have half the police force of the Western world on our hands."
    "Only half?" said Linus.
    "Only half. But that's enough. No, we don't kill him. That's out. I have a better suggestion. I think we should bring him over to our side."
    "Turn Othello? It's never work, boss. He's pure as soap."
    "You would think. But every man had his price. And we've got his dog."
    Shank snapped his fingers and Cleo Majestico came into the room carrying Cracker. The Chihuahua was struggling and finally bit into Cleo's breast. She screamed and dropped the dog.
    "Hey, no women are allowed in this locker room," said Johnny Limper.
    Shank Splinter took a gun out of coat and sent a bullet through Johnny's brain. Then he fired at Cracker. The bullet went into the dog's butt. Because of the cavernous quality of Cracker's cephalic structure, this bullet also managed to cut through brain. The dog wouldn't die right away.
    "How could you? Why?" barked Cracker.
    "Why'd you kill the dog, boss?" said Gremlin Doyle. "I thought he was our card."
    "It's not worth it," said Shank. "We can never win Othello over. You boys are right. He's too pure."
    "So...?"
    "Say, why you wearing that bandana, boss?" said Stitch Sparrow.
    "I threw chemicals on my face to disguise myself. I realized afterward that it made me ugly. You would laugh at my face."
    "We promise we won't laugh, boss."
    "All right. I shall remove the bandana."
    Cracker continued to bark, losing blood. "Fuck you, bandana face! Fuck you!"
    Shank lowered the bandana. The members of his gang were without words. "Shank" raised two guns and opened fire. Cleo Majestico was at his side and also fired at the gang. Bloodbath.
    When it was over, when it was quiet, the dog looked up at his master, Othello's face revealed behind the bandana. "Why'd you do it, Othello? Why'd you shoot me?"
    Othello threw the bandana away. "I had to win their trust, Cracker. I thought we could put them away for life. Shooting you seemed the easiest way to do that."
    "But now he will die," said Cleo, licking