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I arrived home from work and poured myself of glass of merlot. Finally, the weekend. I needed this. Immediately after, I was on the phone calling my fellow party pals. Shelly arrived about fifteen minutes later followed by my foggy headed, pill poppin’ “Other Mother”, Lana. I blasted some music and we sloppily danced around the apartment while staining our teeth purple and growing our red wine mustaches! Suddenly, the CD skipped. As I headed towards the stereo to fix the issue, we heard it.

Singing.

Not just any singing, but the off-key bellowing to the beat of an African drum.

What the hell?

I opened the door to my stairway and ventured down to the once vacant apartment below. The door was opened and inside was a black man with a dog.

“Why, hello!” he said once he saw me just standing there blankly staring at him.
“Oh. Hi, I’m *****. You must be my new neighbor, welcome.”
“Thank you!” the man said, “I am Benny B.”
“Would you like to come up for a drink, Benny B?” I asked him.
“Sure.”

Benny B was the blackest man with the whitest voice I had ever heard.

Happily, he followed us upstairs and joined our party only stopping at the top of the stairway, curious with what he was seeing.

“What the hell is THAT?” he asked me, pointing.

“Oh, that’s Gertrude, my mannequin. I keep her there to scare off burglars,” I said. I had bought the stupid thing years prior from a stranger for $10. What can I say? I like weird shit.

After a few hours, my new neighbor pulled out a pipe and offered us some hash. We all sat around my glass table and had a little pow wow.

I stood up to pour myself another gallon of grape poison when it happened.

BONK!

Benny B’s head fell face-first, flat onto the table, he was out cold.

“Oh, my god!” Shelly screamed, “That dude is dead!”

Lana went running over and grabbed Benny’s wrist. There was still a pulse. I reached my hand out in front of his face and could feel his breath.

“He’s fine, Shelly,” I said, “Obviously, he is a light weight!”

Both gals agreed with my observation and we all had a good laugh at my new neighbors expense. Three chicks could out party this guy. What a pussy!

We left Benny there pretty much all evening. More friends came and went. We all continued to hang out around the man like he wasn’t even there. Eventually, a small puddle of drool started to form under his mouth.

It had began to get late, the sun was close to rising and I wanted my apartment back, but still Benny wasn’t coming to. He was snoring along on my breakfast nook.

“Ugh you guys,” I complained, “Benny really needs to go home! I’m tired.”
“Just leave him there,” Lana suggested.
“No way, Lana! I don’t know this dude! He could be a rapist! Seriously, he needs to go home!”
With that I reached my arm under Bennys left pit, “Help me you whores!” I screamed.

Lana grabbed Benny under his right arm and together we lifted him up. We dragged him to the stair way as Shelly opened the door up for us. Benny B was a lot heavier than we had anticipated or perhaps, we were a lot drunker.

Faster than the regret from fucking a hooker without a condom, it happened.

Simultaneously, Lana and I lost both of our grips on Benny and he went flailing face first down the flight of stairs. I lunged towards his feet but it was too late. We just stood there and watched in horror as Benny’s face thumped down each new step. In the fall, he took out Gertrude. There were black and white body parts bouncing everywhere. When he finally reached the bottom, his body was stopped by the door. His head hit so hard that it shattered the glass in the frame. Shards of glass flew all over him creating tiny cuts.

It was like a firework display of blood. When it was all over, it looked like we had dismembered a zebra.

“Oh my God, Lana! You killed Benny!” I screamed, half upset but still half laughing.
“Shit!” she yelled. The three of us went running down the steps. I slipped on a plastic hand and landed on Benny’s back.

Shelly helped me up as Lana grabbed Benny’s wrist. Still a pulse. Phew!

“Let’s get him in his apartment and to bed,” Shelly advised us.
“Grab his legs, Shelly! I don’t want to drop him again!” I screamed.

The three of us had Benny stretched out, mid-air, by his limbs, I reached over and opened the door to his apartment.

All I saw next was a mound of black fur flying towards me.

WHAM!

Benny’s dog jumped on top of me. The force knocked us all to the ground. I could hear Benny’s head “clunk” as it hit the pavement below.

“Get this fucking dog off of me!” I screamed.

Shelly kicked him hard in his face with her five-inch platform boot. That bitch was powerful, for a stick figure! The dog shreaked before cowering back inside the apartment.

Eventually, we managed to drag Benny’s bleeding body back inside and placed him in his bed, just barely. That’s when I made mention of the ever-bleeding cuts covering his limp and swelling body to my friends.

Though, he was still breathing, his chest was moving up and down and he was wheezing a little.

“What are we going to do about all this blood?” Lana asked me, looking concerned.

We needed a plan.

Quickly, I ran into the bathroom and came out with a roll of toilet paper. I gave a few torn squares to both of my friends.

“Like this!” I said proudly, pulling off tiny bits of the ass tissue and applying them to Benny’s wounds like he was the victim of a bad shave.

After about five minutes we had dressed all of Benny’s sores. He looked like a confetti-ed mummy.

Perfect.

There was just one thing missing. Benny B looked lonely in his bed all alone and half dead. I decided that he could use a cuddle buddy, that’s right!

A lady.

In a rage of drunken laughter, I went back to my stairwell and retrieved the larger pieces of Gertrude. I was too toasted to reassemble her so I placed the bloodied mannequin limbs in his bed, all around his slowly chilling body. When I was sure he was cozy, I covered him up with his blanket and tucked the corners into the mattress. Snug as a bug in a rug.

I am a very nurturing person.

Shelly made sure to lock his apartment door, securely, behind us.

It was about one in the afternoon the next day, when I finally awoke. My friends were gone and I had the headache from hell. I reached over to my nightstand, grabbed a bottle of water and began chugging. As I was consuming my life juice, bits and pieces of the night began flashing into my brain.

HOLY SHIT!

I threw on my robe and ran down stairs to check on my neighbor. His lights were still off, I began knocking on his door. His dog started growling at me but Benny didn’t answer. Continuously, I pounded away for a good fifteen minutes (just like I wish a man would do to me). Finally, I tried the door handle…DAMN THAT SHELLY! It was still locked.

I stumbled back up to my apartment and discovered, on my table, the piece of paper that Benny had used to write his phone number on for me earlier in the evening. The numbers were half smeared off from his drool. Still, I could make them out. I picked up my phone and dialed, no answer. I called again. Probably, I called seven hundred times. Nothing.

OMG!

We killed Benny! I was going to prison!

I tried calling him some more, still no answer. I debated leaving him a voice mail but I didn’t want to leave evidence for the police…GERTRUDE! She was still in his apartment!

In a panick, I picked up my phone and dialed Shelly, “Shelly, I think we killed Benny!”
“What? We didn’t kill anyone you stupid, crazy cunt. I’m sleeping.”

CLICK

Bitch hung up on me, I dialed again, it went straight to voice mail. She had turned off her phone! I decided to call Lana, Shelly would pay for this later.

“Hello?” Lana answered.
“Oh my God, Lana! Benny isn’t answering his door!”
“What? Who?”
“Benny! The guy we almost killed last night! I think we killed him, Lana! I think he is dead!”
“What?”
“When he fell down the stairs!”
There was silence followed by soft giggling, “Oh, ya. I forgot all about that. I bet he’s hurting today.”
“This isn’t funny! We are going to prison for murder!”
“Oh Honey, he was alive when we left him. I am sure he is just sleeping it off,” Lana assured me.
“No Lana! I went down and pounded on his door! I have been calling him all morning!”
“Calm down, *****. Everything will be OK. I have to go, I’m driving.”
“NO YOU CANT GO! You have to come over and help me…”

CLICK

Great, I was on my own.

I closed all the blinds in my apartment, poured myself a shot and prayed. I prayed all day long even though I don’t believe in Jebus. Benny never came out. I debated calling the police or an ambulance but then I knew for sure they would know it was me.

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Two days came and passed and still no view of Benny nor any changes in his door or curtains. I was sitting alone at night drinking just waiting for the smell of Benny’s rotting corpse to make its way upstairs.

Finally, on the third day there was a knock on my door. It was the police, I just knew it. I debated trying to escape out the back but had seen enough TV to know that my apartment was already surrounded. With wine in hand I opened my front door to surrender.

It was Benny.

Scraped, scabbed and bruised, with knots on his forehead. I didn’t even know that black people could get bruises. I grabbed him and hugged him as tight as I could, never in my life had I been so happy to see someone. Not even the ice cream man. There he was, my prison savior.

“I am so glad you are okay, Benny! I have been knocking and calling you for days.”
“Ya, I heard you but I have had the worst migraine. What the hell happened to me? I couldn’t get out of bed for days and I even had to call out of work. I feel like I fell down a flight of stairs.”

“Oh Benny, I have no idea! You might have! You smoked that shit and then went crazy. We all tried to get you to lay down but you insisted on going home. There was a loud crash but by the time I checked you were already gone. I almost called you an ambulance, but I wasn’t sure if they would take your insurance,” I lied.

“I’m so glad that you didn’t! I think I tried to shave my body because I was covered in cuts and I even put little pieces of toilet paper all over myself.”

“No way Benny, that’s scary!” I said, pretending shock.

“I will never smoke that hash again, I bought it off a new dealer. Wont use him again for sure. Anyway, I need to get going. I just wanted to apologize to you. That’s not the way I usually behave and I’m ashamed for my actions.”

“Oh, no problem, Benny! No hard feelings at all. You are welcome back anytime!”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. It’s gonna be a little while before I drink again, you can believe that,” Benny promised.

We both laughed as I escorted my new friend out. Just as he was walking away he turned back to me, “There is just one part I can’t understand.”

“What’s that, Benny B?”

“Your mannequin was in bed with me,” he confessed.

“I don’t know Benny, you were quite insistent on taking her for some reason…” I lied, choking back raging laughter.

“Please don’t tell anyone about that, okay. I promise I’m not some kind of pervert.”

I winked at him, “It’s our little secret.”

—————————————————————————————————————-

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27 thoughts on “Who Framed The Mannequin?

      • Fly your freak flag high. If any of the boobs on your site are yours, they are awesome. I want boobs. Not like ON me, just a pair to play with ( use as pillows, bury my face, tweak and snuggle ) Boobs are so awesome, all I got was this penis thing. I’m not knocking it, but it gets in the way and makes it hard to pee in the morning ( wood ). Yeah ok, nice to meet you. What a greeting eh?

  1. Hey, i found your activity on my blog today and that’s what brought me here, and i’m surely pleased i did come over. Nice work! Keep writing.

  2. I could only imagine what it would be like to sit around a campfire with you at night, hearing your stories. They are so interesting. =)

  3. The first to pass out MUST get messed with. It’s actually a law I think. LOL. But this takes it to a WHOLE new level. Hilarious. I love your stories, and the way you convey them.

    JMC

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