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Snake Dog-Fiction by Catfish McDaris
My Heart Will Always Be Yours-Fiction by Jon Park
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the only goodbye he deserved-Poem by J. J. Campbell
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Again the 11th Hour-Poem by Robert Halleck
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singles ad Westwood Magazine-Poem by Judith Partin-Nielsen
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Dark Tales from Gent's Pens

snakedog.jpg
Art by Sean O'Keefe 2018

Snake Dog

 

by Catfish McDaris

 

A woman screamed and tried to scoop the guts and blood back inside her dying baby girl. A man and a boy collapsed into the street, moaning in agony, blood gushing from multiple wounds. Sirens filled the night in Chinatown, Los Angeles.

Nappy and his amigo, Chuy, rushed to try and help the injured people.

“I can’t take much more of this senseless killing,” said Nappy.

“I feel you, brother. Dog Town Rifa keeps trying to recruit my older cousin, Juan, and they asked about me,” said Chuy.

“White Fence and La Mirada Locos have been sniffing around me. I even had some Black Dragons from Chinatown asking about who we were with.”

They joined the Marines and became experts with many deadly weapons.

“The mission you’ll be trained for will require strength, cunning, intelligence, bravery, and intestinal fortitude,” said Captain Sam. “You will go to Navy SEAL School from here. To learn to be snipers, experts in hand-to-hand close quarters combat, knives, demolitions, amphibious maneuvers, parachuting, and guerrilla reconnaissance. You will study Sun-Tzu’s The Art of War. Before you go to dirty trick school, you’ll learn to think creatively, by learning hypnosis and magic. Then you’ll become experts in drones and computers.”

Nappy and Chuy looked at each other and smiled. “Yes, sir.”

For eighteen months, they trained like murder machines. They were both promoted to First Lieutenant. They weren’t allowed to return home on leave before receiving their assignments. Their mission was to eradicate opium poppy fields in Afghanistan, along with the assassination of warlords. To protect women, children, and innocent civilians.

Nappy and Chuy were leaders of an elite force of 48 highly-trained soldiers at the peak of their physical prowess.

They infiltrated the opium fields in Afghanistan. They had missions in Pakistan, Iraq, and Yemen. They had no mercy for Taliban, al-Qaeda, or ISIS Mujahidin and Jihad terrorists, who used drug money and were guilty of human trafficking.

Chuy and Nappy adopted a mutt and trained him to be a combat dog. They named him Snake. Snake chewed the nuts and dicks off bad guys and bit the tits of bad women. The dog was an endearing hero and both men grew to love him.             

Their next assignment sent them to Kabul to investigate what their destruction did to the hawala, the banking system that financed terrorists, drug warlords, and flesh peddlers. There, they assassinated Abdullah Adel, a minor leader in al-Qaeda. Intel from Jamal al-Fadl led them to Yemen. Nappy and Chuy used drone strikes and blew up a bank and captured Zawahiri Atiyal. They sent him on his way to Guantanamo for interrogation.         

Captain Sam kept the POTUS apprised of Nappy and Chuy’s success. The two-man team went to Abottabad, Pakistan, where Osama Bin Ladin was killed. There were suspected Taliban sympathizers there, but not enough proof to light someone up. Nappy and Chuy were careful not to injure civilians. When in doubt, they walked away. A million-dollar bounty was put on their heads.          

Their next target from al-Qaeda was Yahya Nasir. He eluded them for three weeks, by using human shields. He always hid behind women and children.

They took him in a crowded market. Nappy slipped a combat knife into Nasir’s throat and twisted the blade. Chuy covered their retreat with smoke drones until they made it to their extraction point, led by a Navy SEAL team in an evacuation chopper.

Yahya’s men tried to shoot them out of the air, but the SEALs showered them with lead and white phosphorous and stopped their breathing.                 

All good things ended in Kabul. Two men in Dishdasha robes and Keffiyeh scarfs tossed grenades at them. The men had no chance. Snake jumped on the explosives, but was blown into infinity.

After a convalescence, medals, and discharges, Nappy and Chuy returned to Los Angeles.     

They drove a supercharged Ford-250 pickup in hot pursuit of a Hummer. Nappy had his automatic machine gun with a mounted grenade launcher, plus some hardware that would turn that Hummer into a hot penny. Chuy had a bag of drones that carried high explosives, cameras of all types, including infrared, tear gas, and concealment smoke.

Lizard was the bad ass of the gang; eight of his men were trying to rip off another gang. Three took the front, and three went around to the back.

Two were lookouts. Next door, an elderly lady sat on her porch, with a nursing dog at her feet.

Lizard’s two men went over, and one went for the dog. The old lady tried to stop them, but was pistol-whipped for her effort. Eight newborn puppies sniffed their mother, who fought back with the man. The other grabbed a pup. Laughing hysterically, he held his gun to the whining pup’s head.      

Nappy hurled his razor bayonet at him, and his arm was sliced off at the elbow. Chuy jumped the guy who was fighting the mama dog, but Nappy had a better idea. He gave both men his pelvic punch. It pulverized their balls. They would never have sex or urinate without agony.        

“Every time you do that, it even makes me cringe in pain,” Chuy said. 

The lady took the mama dog and puppies inside her house.        

Inside the house next door, bullets were flying. Chuy took the back and Nappy hit the front, bringing it heavy. They had each other’s six, guardian angels of death. Blood, brains, viscera, eyeballs, hearts still pumping. Stacks of money and bricks of cocaine acted as sponges for the rivers of blood.

They were all out of pity when the cavalry arrived. The old lady next door gave them one of the puppies.

“What do you want to name our dog?” Nappy asked Chuy.

The little puppy licked their faces as they split. “How about Snake?”

“We lost Snake in Afghanistan. You think this might be him reincarnated?”  

“Hell, yes,” Chuy said. “Snake, it is, then.”



Catfish McDaris won the Thelonius Monk Award in 2015. His 25 years of published material is in the Special Archives Collection at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and he is listed in Wikipedia. His new book is 265 pages of poems and prose, that will make your hands tremble.   www.amazon.com/Sleeping-With-Fish-Catfish-McDaris/dp/0692671323    Available Now! Sleeping With the Fish

In Association with Black Petals & Fossil Publications 2017