MicroHorror

“Girl, you got somethin’ right here.” Becky pointed a rotten finger from her remaining hand to between her front incisors and burrowed her head back into the fat girl’s stomach.
Bre-Bre threw the broken femur from which she sucked the marrow to the floor. “This skinny skank tastes like shit.” She scratched at her only tooth.

“I told you, bitch.”

“Whatever. Did I get it?” She smiled.

Becky looked up. “Shit.” She reached in the fat girl’s stomach, retrieved her eyeball, licked it and plopped it back into her socket. “Yeah, you got it.”

“Oh my god! Becky, that was disgusting,” she said and scrunched her nose. “God damn, you smell, too.”

“I do?” Becky lifted her arms and sniffed her pits.

Bre-Bre shook her head. Becky fumbled through her purse and brought out a bottle of Chanel Number Five, spraying herself accordingly. She dropped the bottle back in her purse and with tremendous effort rose to her feet.

“Fuck, we gotta go, Bre-Bre!” She pointed to the stairs.

“What?”

“Billy! He ain’t happy with me.”

“Ah, shit. Bitch, why’d you have to eat his dick?”

“Slut, there ain’t no bone in a boner. Not all I ate either.” Becky licked her bottom lip. Her top lip Billy had. “Nothing but meat and juices.”

Lumbering down the hall Becky pushed Bre-Bre. “Faster, you slow bitch!”

“Puta, we can’t go any faster.”