The Adventures Of Boner And Stink – Part 1

Here’s the way I do things: Whenever I encounter difficulty I do my best to see every side of the situation and look for a way around the problem. I figure it’s way too easy to just get frustrated with whatever is presenting itself. If you do that you’re stuck. You might never find a solution.

How did I develop this outstanding attitude you ask? Well, I’ve had a constant impetus to adopt said stance ever since my sister died and I had to start looking out for her son. You see, Stink is a handful. He just turned twenty-one, did Stink. Boy did we party that night. I still have some of the hangover. Three days and counting. It was downright biblical.

I should introduce myself. My surname is Quax. Yeah, that’s right, I had a hell of time of it when I was growing up. That’s not the worst of it though. My first name is Dick. Go on; get it out of your system, yuck it up. Dick Quax. Ha ha. No, not Richard, Dick. Says so on my birth certificate. I reckon the doctor should have slapped my mother instead of me.

Growing up with a name like that I got a reputation as a tough guy. It was either that or slit my wrists. A hard man is what they called me. So I got a nickname out of it. Boner. A hard guy named Dick. Get it? Anyway I found it suited me so that’s who I am. Boner.

As to Stink, well, let’s just say hygiene isn’t high on his list of priorities. Not that his mother didn’t try to instil the virtues of soap and water in him. The worst of it is that’s actually one of the lesser drawbacks to his character. I think the universe is trying to tell me something. Maybe I don’t listen hard enough. No matter, I’ll get on with my story.

See, Stink and me aren’t what you’d call nine to five guys. Stink doesn’t really have what it takes to cut it in the business world and me; I’m just not of the right temperament. I used to get by with a quick hustle here and there before I had to take on my sister’s boy but he eats his own weight in groceries every week so money became a major concern.

All I could think to do really was to expand my range and bring Stink into the game. Therein likes the problem, as it were. Like I said, Stink ain’t no rocket surgeon. What he is though is very large and rippled with muscle. Many people find his size intimidating and that comes in handy.

The truth is he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but if I find myself in a position where some persuasion is necessary having Stink on hand is just the ticket. Such was the case the other day. I was putting the arm on this low life that happened to owe me a favour and he wasn’t what you’d call forthcoming.

Normally I wouldn’t be putting pressure on a guy bigger than me, but he was available. All I had to do was call Stink into the room and the guy’s disposition got better. It makes it easier for me. So the pond scum in question decides it would be prudent to do as I ask, only, like Stink he isn’t a part of any brain trust. That is to say, he screwed up.

That’s when the shit hit the fan.

Part 2 Tomorrow

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