Men Who Loved Her by Paradise Motel

He’d been pulling her along impatiently, but when she stepped on a sharp rock for the second time, she stopped, hopping on one foot, muttering obscenities at the rock, the farm, Australia and fucking stupid Australian snakes walking around in the dark where no one can see. When she noticed him laughing uncontrollably, she threw the whiskey bottle and then the rock at him before toppling over backwards with a shouted “Fuck!”

He picked her up, carrying her with an ease that would have shocked any observer. She smacked him with her fist for laughing, but didn’t even try to get down as this was much more comfortable, and he seems genuinely relaxed for once. He shrugged off the fist, leaned into kiss her deeply, then kept on while she muttered about mutant eyesight and dark country roads.

After what she estimated to be about a mile, but who knew in the god damn fucking dark, he set her back down onto a surprisingly smooth dirt path. Now that she was looking, she could see the vague shape of a building in the darkness.

“You brought me to see a fucking dirty ass barn? You better not think I am going to milk no god-damn diseased Australian fucking cow!”

He just smiled, opening the doors and walking in. “Well, you can if you wanna, but no.” Chuckling, he pulled on a long string, turning on two dim bulbs overhead, then strode around a corner.

In the barely lit barn, she could hear animals preparing to attack the intruders, and she quickly followed him, bitching about the smell, then she heard the roar of the engine.

When she rounded the corner, she paused, a bit stunned. She couldn’t see him, because of the open hood she assumed, but she could hear him chattering excitedly, and he never “chattered.” “She kept it all these years. I didn’t even ask, I figured, well, who cares, anyway, not like we were staying. Dad and I restored it, little by little, well, until, you know, before he spent all his time drunk. It still runs, and looks pretty good. I, mean, I knew it ran up until, you know, the experiments, because I had it at the base with me. I guess Jeremy must have kept it up, who the fuck knows why. Isn’t she fucking beautiful? A 1979 Chevy Camaro Z28. Pretty much original, although Dad and I put the tape deck in in 1996.” He kept nattering on about engine size and speed, and other parts, but she ignored him as she leaned in the window as soon as he said tape deck.

“Aerosmith, meh, Green Day, christ, Bon Jovi, who the fuck is Turnstyle? The Paradise Motel – worth a shot, I guess” and she slid it into the deck. She heard him say “Shawna? Isn’t she beautiful, Shawna? What do you think?”

As the sounds of “Men Who Loved Her” came over the speakers, she felt him slide up behind her. “That better not be a fucking horse.”

He breathed huskily, “How do ya feel about milking a snake?” before pulling the rest of her back out the window.