Suckers - J.A. Konrath

Incredibly, he stopped.
“What?”
“Your parents!” I said, speaking quickly. “What would your parents think?”
“Why don’t we... ask them!”
He stepped over to the menacing curtain, and with a flourish drew it back. Mom and Dad
were hanging there, roped together so it looked like Dad was giving it to Mom, doggy-style.
“Oops!” Fred said, tugging on ropes and making his parents bump uglies. “Daddy! Why are
you hurting Mommy?”
He pulled the cord again and again, Dad’s hips rising and falling. A shrink would have a
field day with this guy. Field days were fun. I liked dodge ball best.
“Say that again, Daddy? You’re wrestling? What wrestling move is that?”
It looked, to my untrained eye, like a sodomyplex. I tore my eyes away and pointed at
something with my chin. “What’s that hanging next to them?”
“Fluffy. My cat.”
“And those tiny things?”
“My goldfish, BA and Hannibal. Fluffy loves to chase them around. Don’t you, Fluffy?”
More manic pulling of ropes, and the three dead animals knocked into each other. While he
was preoccupied, I called out in my best falsetto, “Honey, it’s Roberta!”
John turned his attention back to Roberta the zombie living bacon wife.
“Dearest? Did you say something?”
“I said,” I said, “We should let Mr. McGlade go. I’m not hungry right now.”
Nut job was buying it. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling against her tasty ribs.
“But you need to eat, honey. You’re getting thinner and thinner.”
“Tack a couple of tomatoes to my chest. I’ll look a lot better.”
Bert began to laugh. A chilling laugh that chilled me. He spun, pointing the cleaver at my
nose.
“You idiot! Do you think I’m that stupid?”
“Yes.”
“What good husband doesn’t know the sound of my wife’s own voice?”
“You, I was hoping.”
“Enough of this tomfoolery! This ends now!”
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