In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

She pointed with the drumstick. "How 'bout the bedroom? How about
right here?"
She slapped Sandro's shoulder. He gulped and set his knife and
fork down at the edge of his plate. He was pale as the flowers in the
vase in front of him. Dick shot a conspiratorial glance at Ula. Ula, who
at first seemed unphased, launched into another coughing fit. She
stopped mid-fit, gasping for air in short hisses. Dick didn't budge.
After a couple more gasps, it was Sandro who got up and went
over to her and smacked her on the back. Nothing. She was still a fish
out of water, drool threading from her open mouth. She searched
frantically inside her kimono sleeves, pulled out her pink inhaler,
sprayed it into her mouth and wheezed in air. He stood behind her with
his hands on her shoulders, veins bulging like two blue horns from his
forehead, and stared intently at the pile of gray bones in their purple
cabbage bed on the platter before them. No one said a word. No one
moved.
Without warning he bolted from the room and they heard the
front door slam shut. Penny got up to go after him, but Dick was
already blocking the doorway.
"You're in this way over your head, little girl―you have no
idea."
She tried to slip under his arm, but he grabbed her and
slammed her face down into the wall. His hands clamped like iron
around her wrists. He was oddly strong for such a wraith.
"No, you are. Those pictures in the hall? You belong in the
slammer, buddy.”
Ula blew her nose, spit mucous into her handkerchief,
breathing effortlessly now. A wet thud landed in the corner waste
basket.
"Art is never a crime. You should know that," Ulla scolded.
Penny yelled into the wall, "Sodomy is not Art. On all minors
it's rape—a felony. On non-consenting adults. Rape. Drugged rape is
still rape. Felony, felony, feloneee!" Dick pulled both her wrists up the
middle of her back. He gave a sharp tug. Fire tore through the
ligaments of her arm as they strained to remain attached to her
scapulae. She twisted her neck around to see him surveying her grimly
from above.
"You're so full of shit, with your hall of fame and your diarrhea
wallpaper, your piss plates, and your fuckin' anal embouchure." She
managed to wrench her body around enough to face him squarely,
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