A Confederacy of Hot Dogs by Christoph Paul

A Confederacy of Hot Dogs by Christoph Paul

Author:Christoph Paul [Paul, Christoph]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: CLASH Books
Published: 2017-10-20T16:00:00+00:00


The hours passed and Phil ate his seventh hot dog of the day.

“These hot dogs are pretty fucking good,” Phil said to himself, as he finished it in four bites and wiped his hand on his grimy jeans.

He lit up a cigarette, inhaled and exhaled, wondering why no matter how hard or little he tried, he always wound up in situations where he had to fuck someone over to not get fucked. He didn’t feel much guilt or sadness about the dead old woman or the fat man he found in the alley, but he did feel guilty for breaking his word to the Subway owner.

Phil took another drag and watched a few boys in Catholic school uniforms walk past the hot dog stand. Seeing them took him back to his first moment of misanthropy and nihilism, back in Kindergarten, when his mother was still alive. He wasn't considered a bad kid, just creative, hyperactive, but also introverted. He attended St. Francis School for Children and always struggled to go to sleep at naptime.

Father Telesco was leading classes. He had finished teaching about the Eucharist and told the children it was naptime. He blessed the kids and tucked them in.

Little Phil was tired, but he wasn’t able to calm down enough to take a nap. He liked to think of horror movies and imagine his favorite characters attacking the sleeping students who were mean to him.

He looked at Tony Reezio, who told Phil and his friend Michael Antonio that they were fanooks for each other during arts and crafts. He was about to imagine Freddy Kruger entering his dream and chopping off Tony’s wiener, but he caught Father Telesco putting his hand down Tony’s pants instead.

Phil gasped. The Father turned his smiling face away from Tony onto Phil’s wide-eyed and nauseated stare. The creepy smile left Father’s face as he took his hand out of the little Tony’s khaki pants.

Father Telesco lifted the same hand up, smelled it, and then made the sign of the cross.

He continued to stare at Phil who was shaking and scared. He walked calmly over to Phil, crouched down over the boy and said, “Your father, Phil, he works construction. He does jobs for the church? Correct?”

Phil nodded yes and forced himself not to cry.

“Yes, little Phil, he does. Do you know, when you lie and say bad things about the Church, God punishes you and your loved ones. You do not want your father to lose his job, do you?”

Phil nodded his head no, his eyes glassy and red from trying not to cry.

“I was just checking on Tony. There is no need to cry, my son,” Father Telesco told him. “I was making sure the devils were not near his privates. That is where the devil lives. This is a secret of the priests that you must never share. If you tell … bad things will happen to you, and to your father. God will never stand for someone hurting the Holy Mother Church.



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