I’ll be wrapping up The Human-Undead War trilogy around the middle of 2016. I have another trilogy in mind that’d tie into it, but combing through my old work has created a yearning in me. A yearning to taste the underground world again. A yearning to revamp an old story and polish it to a blinding sheen. A yearning for more debauchery.
Well, more Deeb Autcherry, anyway.
So I plan to delve into The Adventures of Deeb before tackling my next larger project.
An Intro to Deeb
Who the hell is Deeb, and why should you give two shits about his adventures?
Well, Deeb is me. Was me. Was kind of me.
See, I went through some dark times right after high school, as many forlorn wanderers do. And after experiencing some crazy shit and experimenting with some crazy shit, I looked around me and I saw a world too many don’t see. And I noticed society sitting on the other side of the room, nose up, pinky out, sipping on a cup of tea.
Deeb Autcherry, then, was the character I made to share my personal experiences. He was an outlet, a way to entertain those within my underground world while preaching to a deaf society about their misperceptions regarding those in the shadows.
Some of his stories were legit, word-for-word, action-for-action personal experiences of my own. Some were tainted by only a hazing of the truth, a dash of falsities. Some were exaggerated. Some were point-blank fictional. Some were recounted to me by friends and fleshed out on a keyboard.
But all in all, they were meant to entertain and illuminate what immoral behavior was really all about…in a future world bereft of morals.
I can now see this coming-of-age story wasn’t ready. The setting wasn’t fully realized. The world wasn’t dark enough. Much of it needs to be rewritten.
And Deeb still has much to learn.
But it still has tons of drugs and sex in it, so what the hell, right?
An Excerpt from The Adventures of Deeb
I had to beat the cobwebs off with an inflatable Elvira doll, but this should be a decent polished taste for ya. Enjoy.
“Hey, this is Angel.”
Deeb nodded at the delivery driver who’d handed him the phone. “The one from my dreams?” he asked, keeping a wary eye out for his boss, Alex. I can’t afford to slip up now. They’ll catch on to me.
Her words were slurred. “No, silly. Try again.”
“Well, you sound pretty fuckin’ hot.” He shrugged, unable to place her voice. “I give. Can I get a hint?”
Deeb’s heart raced and he blurted out, “Oh shit! Angel Duzt!”
She giggled like she used to, all flirty and girly. “Surprised you remember me.”
Deeb almost dropped the receiver. How could he forget her? She’d worked with him at the Greasy Pizza Kingdom until a few months prior. He’d been her trainer, and on her first day, he’d slid a classic line at her, testing the waters: “See, these buns look great. Ass do yours.”
Her response had been swift and stern: “Yeah, my girlfriend thinks so, too.”
Deeb had been bummed to learn she was a lesbian, but he wasn’t heartbroken. There were many more legs to be spread in the world.
After some small talk, he’d discovered her sense of humor and interests aligned with his, and they’d started hanging out on a regular basis. They would smoke weed inside his car in the parking lot during breaks and drink beer at the Shithole Bar after work, usually with Angel’s girlfriend in tow. And though she had become forbidden fruit, Deeb cranked up the flirtation factor the more he and Angel hung out.
He’d been out for some lesbian poontang for many years, the path few men had the gall to traverse yet all desperately claimed to desire. Angel posed a feat he could not easily conquer, which, of course, gave him all the more reason to try. After a couple weeks of Angel talking about her woman nonstop, however, he’d decided his quest was futile and laid his hopeful victory over lesbian poon to rest.
And that was when she’d asked him to fuck.
They were alone in his house one night, drunk, and she’d just blurted it out. He’d been stunned, but happy to oblige. When she’d had her second orgasm, he’d busted all over her ass, checked one more item off his bucket list, and magically lost her phone number an hour later.
He was Deeb Autcherry, Master Player and Partyer. He couldn’t climb the same mountain twice. He needed something fresh and exciting, something new to keep the blood pumping to his groin. It was, after all, the law of the Land of Immortal Immorals. Nothing less would suffice.
Several days later, Angel had called to tell him she was pregnant.