26 Aug 08

Zucchini (Part 6)

This series came about because many of you requested I blog what prisoners get up to sexually. If you take offence to sexual content you may not want to read on.

Max - A car-jacking Chukchansi Indian who entered prison as a teenager and went home to Las Vegas in 2007. His sexual adventures in prison include trading semen to an old pervert for commissary items.
Part five left off with Log unsuccessfully trying to get Max together with Cindy the transsexual.

“There must have been something about Cindy and the shampoo bottle that piqued your interest sufficiently for you to go back to see Log and Cindy again?” I said.
“You know how it is.” Max said. “I went to Yard 2 to see my buddy Log.”
“What were they up to this time?”
“I look in Log’s cell. He’s not there. I know where Cindy’s livin’ at, so I go over there. I figure Log’s there. I tap on the door and look in. They’re boilin’ water. They’ve got an empty hot-sauce bottle, and they’re usin’ boilin’ water on it, so it’ll get shorter and expand girthwise. They’re pullin’ it outta the water, puttin’ it on the table, and mouldin’ it to get the shape they want.”
“And you’re inside or looking in?”
“Lookin’ in. I tapped but they didn’t hear me. After they were done with that process, I see Cindy holdin’ the bottle, and I know they’re about to do their little thing again. So I think maybe I should stop by another time.
I turn around and take like three or four steps, and I’m getting’ ready to leave the run when I hear the door open, and Log say, ‘Max, were you gonna stop by or what?’
I say, ‘Oh yeah. But you look like you’re busy.’
He says, ‘Nah, nah. Come kick it with us.’
My heart sinks, dude. I’m thinkin’ maybe they do these things on purpose when they know I might be comin’ over. Maybe they watch outta their window and see me and say, ‘Max is comin’. Come on, let’s do somethin’ really fucked up.’
So I go and stand in the middle of the doorway, and Log says, ‘Whattaya doin’?’
I say, ‘Sameol’ same-o. Deliverin’ trays.’
Log asks, ‘Do they have whole cucumbers in the kitchen?’
I say, ‘Yeah, the koshers get them. What do you need cucumbers for? Actually, dude, you know what? Never mind. I didn’t ask. I don’t even wanna know.’
Guess what Cindy asks for?”
“I don’t know. Is it food?”
“Yeah.”
“Fruit?”
“No.”
“A veg?”
“Somewhere along the lines of a vegetable.”
“Zucchini?”
“Log says, ‘We want zucchinis. They’re bigger than cucumbers.’
I say yeah but I don’t wanna say yeah ’cause when I bring it, there’s no tellin’ what I’m gonna walk into. I’m startin’ to think that I don’t even wanna deliver trays to Yard 2 no more.
Log’s sat on the bottom bunk. Cindy goes and sits on his lap. I’m noticin’ Cindy’s got quite the five o’clock shadow thing goin’ on today. A lotta these transsexuals try and talk all sweet and girlie, but to no avail, dude. You can hear the masculinity in their voices. She’s sweet-talkin’ Log like that. I’m beginnin’ to believe they do this kinda stuff all day. If I were with a woman who wanted toys shoved in her all day, I’d be a little insecure, a little jealous.
Well, they start playin’ around with each other. Cindy’s pants slide down, and mind you, I’m still at the door talkin’ to Log about various shit. Cindy unzips him, pops his pecker out, and commences ridin’ it with his anus. I really wanna leave. I just turn around, but before I turned, I noticed they were both lookin’ at me.
That’s when Log says, ‘Max, grab the hot-sauce bottle. We’re gonna need some help doin’ this.’”


What should Max do next?

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