Scattered, Smothered and Chunked - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season 1 by John G. Hartness

Author:John G. Hartness [Hartness, John G.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2012-11-11T05:00:00+00:00

NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THE END

Sixteens Tons

"You want to talk about it?" Skeeter's voice interrupted some seriously dark thoughts as I barreled down the highway in my F-250.

"No." I said into my Bluetooth headset.

"You sure? Sometimes it helps to talk these things out." Skeeter persisted. Skeeter's my best friend, my technological wizard and dispatcher for the Holy Roman Catholic Church, and the guy that's been there for me during some of the ugliest times of my life. But he ain't my therapist. And if I was the type of man who went to a therapist, a thirty-year-old African-American homosexual comic book nerd would not necessarily be my first choice. Especially one that answered to "Skeeter."

I took a deep breath before I answered. "Skeeter, the day I become the kind of guy that needs to talk things out, you have my permission to shoot me."

"Well then, we got a case."

"I'm on a case. I gotta go kill my daddy. Again. Before he takes over the world or some other crazy megalomaniac werewolf shit."

"I mean a new case. And this one's close. And when did you learn words like megalomaniac?" Skeeter asked.

"I went to college, Skeeter. I woulda graduated, too, if I hadn't blown out my knee playing football."

"I remember. I was there. You drank a lot after that game."

"I'm a big dude. I drink a lot. It happens. What's this new case and why should I go after it instead of finding Pop and putting a half-dozen silver bullets in his face?"

"Well, first off, we don't know where your daddy is. And we do know where to find this goblin infestation. Like I said, it's close to where you are, probably less than two hours the way you drive. And it's goblins. They've surfaced in a mining town just outside of Beckley, West Virginia, and you know what that means."

"They've come through to the surface?" Skeeter was right; I knew exactly what a surface goblin infestation meant - lots of the little bastards, and lots of fire and explosives to get rid of 'em. Sounded like my kind of therapy. "Fine, Skeeter. Let's go fry us up some goblins."

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