Snores

So Christ asked me. Christ said, that asshole Sore Dan moved out, he just disappeared man, like he blew town altogether. Christ used to play bass in Sore Dan's band, Sore Jameson. The days. Those were. The days when you took on the name of your band as your own. Say your name was Joe and you fronted the Runs; you'd be Joe Runs. Or, disclaimer, you played drums for the Prick Prostates and your name was Pete; you might be Peter Prick. Or Pete the Prick. Or Pete the Dick. Thank the gods Pete's name wasn't Richard or we'd've jumped all over that one. Hey, what'd ya know, here comes Dick Prick, that fuckin dick! Buy me a round Dick! Ya prick! Christ had joined a band which called itself Clark Christ, which was serendipitous, since Christ's real name was Christian. Now that woulda been ridiculous, Christian Christ, or Chris Christ, or Christian Clark, or Clark Christmas, you see where this isn't going, so it was settled that Christ would just be Christ, like Cher, or Prince, or Flea. And yet, for any of us, it was still a new one. Now Christ needed a roommate, and I happened to hate my landlord, plus the rent was way cheaper at Christ's place, so I took him up on it. I didn't know what I was in for but who ever does? The place was on Tolkyen on a frontage road of I-5. The traffic going by was heavy, noisy, polluted and the inspiration for several future missives I'd compose in various states of future delirium. We inhabited the top flat of a mid-sized house, basically two rungs up the ladder from a squat. The rungs being, we had working electricity and running water. My room was in the back of the building, the window facing a parking lot and alley, which offered a modicum of quiet, a sliver. So we're sitting there in the little nook off the kitchen with the big windows facing the I-5 corridor, on an off-day from the relentless and unending service-industry grind, when the phone rings. There were telephones then, heavy black devices you could wield like a weapon, and ring ring ring they would. And they all sounded the same, except maybe in Europe, or Africa, or the South China Sea, or even fuckin Canada. Christ answered the phone. His bug eyes lit up, and he became animated with full-on hand gestures and blinking and winking and rapping the phone receiver against his bald head. I looked at Christ with curiosity. I was engaged in chewing. Something tough, like rabbit, or dog, or snake. It could get quite exotic at the Tolkyen. Christ pointed at the mouthpiece, mouthing dramatically, it's Maddy. Maddy was his sister, and word was she coulda been his twin but she wasn't, being a year older. I'd never met her. On this topic Christ was adamant. You'll never meet her, he insisted, I know your ass, as he waggled a finger at me, you're a dirty dog! Whatever, I brushed him off, I hear she looks exactly like you… like I wanna date a girl and see your face! But it was inevitable. I couldn't escape it, Christ couldn't escape it. He'd let slip he had a new roommate and Maddy (whose full name was Madeleine, which wasn't a far cry from Magdalene, since you’re obviously wondering), well her curiosity was piqued and from then on there was no stopping her. Christ slammed the phone with a clang. What the fuck, I said, mid-swallow. YOU DOG! She's coming over. She's coming over! You need to go. You can't be here. I don't want you anywhere near her! You're a sick pervert! I smirked. I ain't going nowhere pal. You can't kick me out of my own place. I pay rent and everything. That's my food in the fridge, dude! The potato salad? That watermelon? The tub of eels? I pilfered that shit personally from my place of employ, son! Bon appétit! Christ grumbled, but I crossed my arms and sat back like a stone statue. I grinned. I patted my lap. Aww, come to Papa I said mischievously. Christ froze. Christ started pacing. Christ was seeing red. Christ was pretty worked up. I did try keeping the peace. I liked my little room. I could listen to dissonant shit and type away and nobody bothered me. Shit, compromise, fool. Okay, alright, I'll keep it in my pants, quit freaking out. Jesus! Hey, I resemble that statement, said Christ. He went over to the fridge and grabbed a couple of tall boys. Now you're talking, I said, catching a tall boy with veteran shortstop facility. We were just finishing the 6-pack when the doorbell rang. Christ bounded out of the kitchen nook, leaving me staring out the window at oncoming white headlights in a streaming rush against red blinking taillights dying in the dusk. Then they came up the stairs. Maddy was indeed Christ's doppelgänger, except with female body parts. Same eyes, sloping nose, pouty lips, chin slightly pushed in, short neck, parchment-white skin, randomly placed moles. Her hands though were quite pretty and proportionate. That I immediately noticed these details was not lost on Maddy, a mild discomfort crossing her visage, followed by a hint of anger. She stood straighter. Hmm, a defiant one. Nice. The straighter she straightened the more her breasts jutted out, up and out. Christ saw me staring and leaped between us. Ivan Maddy Maddy Ivan, say Ivan, aren't you late for work or something? Christ's bug-eyes bored into mine. Cute. Fuckin Christ. I turned and headed for my room, Christ right behind me. In my room he shut the door and lowered his head and whispered urgently. Dude! Quit staring at my sister. She's got a temper, man! I sized up Christ. Jesus Christ, Christ! Why's your face slapped on your sister's head? It's unnerving. I don't know why, Christ muttered, all I know is if she gets a hair up her ass we're both in for it! Well I don't know that I'd mind being in for it, I pointed out. I'd been in for it all my life, and pretty much thrived on being in for it. Y'know what, Christ, my old man had it in for me since day one, so it's nothing new, son. Christ was pacing the room. Just, just fuckin cool it man, I'm begging you, alright? I decided there and then to seduce Christ's sister if it was the last thing I'd ever do. Sometimes a guy simply can't resist a challenge. We emerged from my room, Christ deflecting, bullshitting about some label or other, some inconsequential LP or CD or obsolete cassette or obscure soundtrack. Pretty shallow cover really, and Maddy possessed the shit-eating grin of someone in the know. The beginning of a serious flirt. I stayed for some dinner. The flirt escalated during dinner which discombobulated Christ's usually upbeat, goofy sangfroid. Christ sputtered. Christ stuttered. Christ got us all some more beers. As it happened, I started seeing Maddy around, mostly at the Kennel, so we'd have a beer or two, here and there. It turned out she lived alone, just down the block in a finely-manicured courtyard apartment built back in the 1920's, the kind that's like an architectural endangered species. I found this bit of information rather strategic after a particularly warm Seattle summer evening of Kennel pours, a pitcher perhaps, and later a few hard licks at the obnoxious sports pub across the street. The girl could hold her liquor. What fascinated me the most was the sheer disparity between the two siblings whose faces were practically identical. Maddy was serious, a hardworking chick interning as a nurse-practitioner. On top of that she was studying, equipped with all these scholarships and grants, to become an MD in some specialized field concerning women's private parts. Dr Maddy, I piped up, the pussy practitioner! I got slapped for that. Maddy liked to slap. I don't know if it was just me or a general condition of hers. It led to tickling. Which became a minor bout, the ol' tickle-slap routine, invariably leading to sexual congress. We were at her apartment on the couch. Her place was uncluttered and lacking in feminine frills. Local band posters tastefully framed on the walls, cooking utensils on hooks hanging from the kitchen ceiling. A practical, functional abode. We were drunk. Or I was. One can never be sure exactly. But suddenly I was locking lips with the sister of Christ. I'd heard stories; having sex with your buddy's sister was just like having sex with your buddy, except with a female body attached. But Christ's sister's body had excellent curves and toned muscles and she smelled nice like a girl, not grubby like a dude and not only were her hands pretty but they were deft and knew exactly how to manipulate certain erroneous body parts. Besides, when she shut off the lights I couldn't see Christ's face anymore, so all was well. After the act I got up and got a couple beers from her fridge. Maddy was well-stocked. But whoa. Some micro-beer, bottled, India ale or something equally fishy. It tasted queer. Not homosexual, but strange. Bitter. What I would later learn was hoppy. I didn't care. It could've been sewage, as long as it had alcohol in it I was happy. I was happy. I was happy. Maddy turned over in her sleep. She'd actually come pretty hard. I was satisfied with myself. Maddy wasn't some random floozy; she was a quality woman even if she did have the face of Christ. As I gazed she sank deeper into sleep. I could fall for a woman like that, I was thinking, when out of nowhere her mouth fell open and the buzz saw started. Within 5 seconds she was snoring like a Rottweiler with distemper. Rather than being caught off guard, I was simply amazed. I was hopeful it might stop but it didn't. It actually got worse. I became uncomfortable. I was torn. The face of Christ had a hot body and fucked me hard but the snoring was truly a game changer. I found the phone in the kitchen and called Christ. Dude, I whispered. Your sister snores like a rhinoceros. Christ was peeved. You're at her place? Goddamn it! You dirty dog! Jesus tits, Christ, I said, you shouldn't talk back to your daddy like that.