A Dungeon Tale : a generation gap perspective

Lester made his way to the bar counter as fast as his gimpy leg could hobble, eased himself onto a stool, and hooked his cane on the counter edge.

“Gimme’ a stiff one, Bubba,” said Lester. “Make it a double… double quick.”

“Well, if it ain’t Lester Moore, more or less,” said Bubba. “What’s got yer’ tighty whiteys in a tangle?”

“Dang blastedest thang I’d ever seen,” said Lester. “If’n I didn’t just get my eyes tested at the VA, I’d swear I’d seen me a mirror-oz.”

“What in Sam Hill’s dirty drawers is a mirror-oz?” said Bubba.

“One of them now ya’ see it now ya’ don’t imaginings,” said Cooter, sitting two stools down the counter.

“That right?” said Bubba.

“Yup,” said Lester. “But it weren’t one, cuz’ my eyes really did see what they saw.”

“What did ya’ see?” said Cooter.

“The most peculiar peculiarities ya’ ever did see,” said Lester.

“Oh hell, that don’t tell us nothin’,” said Bubba. “Yer’ jus’ trying to get outta’ payin’ fer’ yer’ drink.”

“Taint so,” said Lester. “I jus’ don’t rightly know how to describe what I seen.”

“What’s so hard about startin’ from the beginnin’ an’ movin’ on to the end,” said Cooter.

“I’ll give it a try,” said Lester. “But don’t say I didn’t warn ya’, cuz’ ya’ ain’t gonna believe it.” He raps his knuckles on the bar. “But not till I get my drink.”

Bubba quickly set up double shots all around. And they each held the first aloft.

“May yer’ mama always think yer’ a saint, may yer’ wife love ya’ fer’ not being one in the bedroom, and may the cops never care about ya’ one way or the other,” said Bubba. And they each gulped their shot down.

“Start talkin’,” said Cooter.

“Y’all know I’ve been in the fertilizer business as a sideline on account of my cows,” said Lester. They each nodded. “Well, I come outta’ the VA lot an seen a sign that had dung in the title, an’ it were spelled like it was French or somethin’, so I stopped ta’ take a look-see.”

“Were it French?” said Bubba.

“Can’t righty say,” said Lester.

“How come?” said Cooter.

“Cuz’ I think when I stepped thru the door I was sent back in time or somethin’,” said Lester. “I was standin’ smack dab in a torture chamber, and there was people doin’ unspeakable things ta’ other people’s unmentionables.”

“Oh, hell,” said Bubba. “Did they give ya’ some kind of shot at the VA again that had some of them side-winder effects?”

“Dammit, Bubba,” said Lester. “I’m as sober as a spinster in her Sunday-go-to-meetin’s.”

“Sounds like a lotta’ bull fertilizer ta’ me,” said Cooter.

“Well, it did have dung in the title,” said Lester. “But it looked like they were experimenting with it in people.”

“How can ya’ experiment with dung in people?” said Bubba.

“Couldn’t quite figger’ it out,” said Lester. “But they had some gosh-awful contraptions plugged in the hiney-holes on both hims and hers. And that ain’t all, they plugged up all the ladies who-who’s, gagged their mouths, hog-tied um’ so they couldn’t escape, and even had a couple machines dry suctioning female mammaries like they were udders.” He gulped down his second shot.

“Think it’s some kinda’ terror cell?” said Bubba.

“More like an alien invasion,” said Cooter.

“I ain’t even told it all yet,” said Lester, while wiping sweat from his brow. “They had people in cages, on racks, in stocks, and other confounded contraptions that had um’ turned this away and that. And they was using whips, and leather straps, and hot wax, and even electrical cattle prods to make them poor souls wail and scream and holler somethin’ fierce. It downright chilled me ta’ the bone.”

“How’d a torture chamber get electricity?” said Cooter.

“Cuz’ I really didn’t go back in time,” said Lester. “That torture chamber is right in the here and now.”

“If it’s a torture chamber, how come they let you waltz in an’ back out?” said Bubba.

“They’s wiley as a fox is all,” said Cooter. “They let Lester go to tell more folks, and when those folks go ta’ check fer’ themselves, they snatch um’ all, slicker than snot.”

“Ya’ want to hear the biggest puzzlement of it all?” said Lester.

“Do tell,” said Cooter.

“While I was transfixed and standin’ dead still, I must’a seen a dozen or so people leavin’ after bein’ tortured,” said Lester. “And they was a smilin’ and jaw-jackin’ like they’d been to a Saturday social instead of tortured ta’ tears jus’ moments before.”

“I bet it’s some sort of brainwashin’,” said Bubba.

“Brainwashin’?” said Cooter. “Right here in our town?”

“Maybe,” said Lester. “I did see several people with masks, and even some with leather hoods coverin’ their whole heads.”

“I think we should call the cops,” said Cooter.

“Hell no!” said Bubba. “What if the cops have been brainwashed. Haven’t ya’ ever seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers?”

“Oh my god!” came a young voice from the closest booth, followed with laughter. “There really are no fools like old fools.”

“This ain’t none of yer’ concern, Bobby Joe,” said Bubba.

“The place you’re talkin’ about is a dungeon,” said Bobby Joe. “It’s where people with fetishes go for kinky sex.”

“I didn’t see nothin’ that looked like sex ta’ me,” said Lester. “The guys an’ gals were plum bein’ tortured by other guys an’ gals.”

“That’s a category of sex called BDSM,” said Bobby Joe.

“Payin’ ta’ be tortured jus’ ain’t natural,” said Lester.

“A lot more people are into it than ya’ might imagine,” said Bobby Joe.

“I’ll be jiggered,” said Cooter. “Ya’ think he might be tellin’ the truth?”

“How the hell would I know?” said Bubba. “I’ve been married ta’ the same woman forty-seven years an’ ain’t seen her completely naked yet.”

“Maybe ya’ outta’ take her ta’ that there dung-on,” said Cooter.

“That’s dungeon,” said Bobby Joe.

“How come ya’ know so much about this place?” said Lester.

“I ain’t as old an’ out of touch as y’all,” said Bobby Joe.

“That’s another way of tellin’ us he’s been there,” said Bubba.

“That true, young feller?” said Cooter.

“I might’ve been there a time or twenty,” said Bobby Joe.

“Ya’ paid ta’ be tortured in that place?” said Lester.

“Nah,” said Bobby Joe. “I’m a giver not a taker, when it comes ta’ pain.”

“Ya’ get ta’ choose?” said Bubba.

“It’s each person’s choice,” said Bobby Joe. “Whatever turns ya’ on, with whoever turns ya’ on.”

“Well, I’ll be hog-tied an’ horse-whipped,” said Bubba.

“You can get that done easy,” said Bobby Joe.

“That was a figure of speech,” said Bubba.

“Anythin’ and everythin, huh?” said Cooter. “An’ with any partner ya’ want?”

“Well, anyone that’s there an’ willin’,” said Bobby Joe.

“Imagine that,” said Cooter.

“I think ya’ already are,” said Lester. “Cuz’ I’ve seen that look on yer’ face before.”

“We might be over the hill,” said Bubba. “But we ain’t buried under it yet.”

“Oh, hell,” said Lester. “Here we go again.”

The three geriatric gentlemen stare at Bobby Joe.

“What are you old codgers contemplating now?” said Bobby Joe.

Bubba grabbed several more shot glasses and topped them off.

“Saddle yer’self up on a stool, youngster,” said Bubba. “We’ll be drinkin’ an’ thinkin’ while yer’ tellin’ us all ya’ know about that dungeon an’ BDSM stuff.”

“Oh, hell,” said Bobby Joe. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing,” said Lester, then gulped down another drink. He would need a lot more shots of whiskey before stepping back into that dungeon.


12 thoughts on “A Dungeon Tale : a generation gap perspective

  1. As you well know, Daddy, I’m from the rural South so I know “Southern speak” when I hear (or read) it; and you did an excellent job with your good-ole-boy dialect. It certainly adds to the humorous slant of this tale. I can’t see it being near as funny if the setting had been in a northern city.
    Love it! ♥️

    Liked by 2 people

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