Wham Bam Stories by Simpson

When G Otterbein moves in next door, the MacLeod boys are quite certain he is either Gestapo, SS, or a concentration camp guard. 

Their father landed on Omaha Beach on June 6, 1944. Over the next year he battled the Nazis and helped liberate the death camps. He has no love for  Germans. And he has passed his hatred on to his boys.

How's it going to work out in this tranquil New Jersey suburb?

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The Judge's daughter has been raped. Or so she says. The Judge is aghast. Appalled. Angry.

And even more so when he finds out the rapist was... my God... Black.

His Anger turns to Alarm when she tells him she's... pregnant!

"Good Lord!" shouts the Great Defender of the Womb. "This... this cannot stand!"

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Every day she thinks about doing it. And every day she doesn't do it.

She wants to do it, or at least she thinks she does, but still she doesn't do it.

She wants to do this and do that, go here and go there, but desire so rarely leads to action.

What is Life? What's it for? What are we supposed to do with it? Is it anything more than the Random Thoughts in our Heads?

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Mac’s on vacation. On spring break. With his wife and teenage kids. They drove down to Duck on the Outer Banks. For a week of sun and fun.

Mac is not happy. Mac dislikes vacations. Hates sitting around on his duff. But he has to tow the line. Can’t irritate the wife. Can’t ruin it for the others. Has to put a smile on his face.

The days grind on. Mac starts to ruminate. Recalls his spring break to Key West back when he was a senior in high school. Sloppy Joe’s. Captain Tony’s Saloon. Mallory Square. Booze and dope. The old Hemingway House. 

A Spring Break to remember.

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Crumb and Fuse drive home late from a boozy party in Crumb's 911. They spot a raccoon crossing the road. Crumb swerves and goes out of his way to run over the coon. Leaves it dead in the middle of the road.

The act sets off a confrontation between the two men. Fuse demands to know why Crumb killed the raccoon. They argue and taunt one another. Fire off wisecracks and insults. It's a philosophical melee. 

All while that 911 races faster and faster down the twisty mountain road. Is that old coon gonna be the only casualty tonight?

It's a beautiful triangle: Booze, men, and their egos. 

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All's well at the local parish. At least on the surface. 

Father Joseph and Nathaniel's parents sit in the priest's office and have a nice little chat. They discuss the upcoming pancake breakfast, the flower show to raise money for the local orphanage, and next Sunday's sermon on assisting the poor and the persecuted.

Father Joseph has an engaging smile and an easy laugh. He is very popular among his parishioners. Unfortunately, Joe is a very sick pup.  

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Pete's a podiatrist. Pete does feet. Pete had a whole slew of podiatry clinics in and around Syracuse, NY. Until Covid hit in 2020. And people with bad feet stopped coming to see him. 

Pete went bust. Belly up. Had to declare bankruptcy. And the only podiatry job Pete could find was with the New York State Department of Corrections. 

Now Pete does the inmates' feet. Every Friday Pete gets to visit Sing Sing in Ossining-on-the-Husdon, the maximum security prison housing a wide array of violent characters including rapists, pedophiles, arsonists, hitmen, cannibals, and serial murderers. 

It's a tough job but somebody has to do it. 

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For years, decades, Big Al spent enormous amounts of time and money shopping and consuming, buying no end of crapola he didn't need and often didn't really even want. But consuming was an addiction. Al coveted a wide array of products and services large and small. It was a never-ending compulsion. A kind of enslavement. He would buy a new thousand dollar iPhone and just hours later be on his computer checking out the latest and greatest 85 inch Samsung flat screen.

Eventually Al became fed up with this vicious cycle. He broke his addiction. He vowed to become an anti-consumer, to buy only those goods and services that were 100% essential.

And for a couple years Al succeeded. He was happy. Calm. Content. He steered clear of TV and on-line ads and lived in a nice peaceful bubble.

Until one day, while watching Yellowstone, he spotted Kevin Costner wearing the absolutely coolest cowboy hat. A Stetson. And Al knew, with all his heart and soul, that he needed one of those dang hats. Had to have one. Pronto. 

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Bill Monroe, a local businessman, owes Patrolman Dick Benson ten grand. Has owed the police officer ten grand for nearly two years. Dick wants his dough. And more than wants it, Dick needs it. For his family. For his wife and daughter.

Dick's at wit's end on how to collect. On several occasions he has begged and pleaded with Monroe to fork over the cash. All this begging and pleasing to no avail.

For months Dick has been hatching a plot in his head. He knows it's a crazy-ass scheme, got desperation written all over it. But hey, a man has to do it what he has to do. He can't be letting people push him around. This is America, after all. A man is entitled to what's his. 

So, tonight's the night.

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Nan is a hotshot divorce attorney. No holds barred. Anything for victory. Just today she crushed a billionaire hedge funder with pics of illicit sex with minors. Won her client at least fifty mil. She'll take a nice chunk of the settlement. Buy that place she's been coveting on St. Bart's. Now she's on her way home to her mountaintop estate in her posh Cadillac Escalade. Nan's going to draw a hot bath, mix herself an ice-cold martini, and wash away the rigors of the day. But wait, who's the dude dressed all in black rolling under her garage door just as the door rolls closed? 

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