Greg Jennings : Three to Tango

by Christian Moody

When a woman's face is comprised of nothing but flammable makeup, be sure not to put trick candles on her birthday cake. The day my apartment burned down was a crazy day. The days that followed were nothing short of a black hole of ironic comedy skits. The main star, Greg Jennings. Me, myself and I. The hospital reconstructive surgery department did an amazing job on my now ex girlfriend's face. Trudy Paige went from looking like a drugged out prom queen to a drugged out movie starlet. The doctors said it could have been much worse. I wondered what the real definition of worse was to a doctor. They live in their mansions on Easy Street and sip cocktails at elegant dinner soirees. For me, the definition of worse was finding an attractive and brilliant nurse at the hospital during Trudy's surgery, asking her out, getting caught intimately with her by Trudy at the hospital a few weeks into her stay, and Trudy getting my nurse lady friend fired. Nurse Bethany Palmer. Needless to say Nurse Palmer was upset over losing her job. I haven't even gotten to the good part. Since Nurse Palmer had never acquired the common sense to put money into a savings account, I reluctantly had to invite her to stay at my new condo, which was courtesy of the insurance company. Just when I thought life couldn't get better, I was informed Trudy had no living relatives and, upon contacting her landlord, was threatened by a Mexican sounding gentleman who informed me if I didn't pay him the three grand Trudy owed him he would have his "friend" break my legs. So, apparently Trudy would be joining in the festivities at my condo as well. Thus begins the tale of Greg Jennings, three to tango.

A little background before the adventure begins. I, Greg Jennings, never had the particular part of the brain that forewarned you not to say things or do things that might get you hurt or eventually brutally murdered. In school, they called me a straight shooter. I never seemed to shoot straight though. Someone usually stole the gun out of my hand and hit me over the head with it. After high school I went on to college, deciding to stop after I got my associate's degree. I landed a job with the county library. I was in charge of cataloging the entire book collection. The library is where I met Trudy. She was required by the court to read to inner city children three times a week. Community service had brought a beautiful woman to my doorstep, and I jumped at the chance. I believe you know the rest. I did forget to mention one thing though. Trudy and my new girlfriend, Nurse Palmer had become close friends during Trudy's stay at the hospital. Apparently Trudy was willing to look past the medical closet incident with Nurse Palmer, in order to maintain the peace. So the age of peace in El Condo Jennings began.

I returned from a long day at the library ready to hit the sack hard. An elderly man had taken a massive dump in an art sculpture the local talent had put on display, said artist eager to confuse the citizens of Hampton enough to take out their check books. Did I pay the old man twenty dollars to do it? Perhaps, but when a man who throws some clay together in the manner of a toddler tries to charge money for the fake art, my mission is clear. Pay an old man twenty dollars to turn it into what it truly is. Utter crap. The artist in question, Bob Reinhart, claimed I was constantly sabotaging his work. The old man in question, my partner in crime, and best friend, John Winters, would claim he forgot to put his prescription glasses on and I would swoop in like a jackal, telling management John had left them in his wing of the library. Yes, that's right, "The John Winters Wing". The man was untouchable, and we both exploited the heck out of it. Nonetheless I was not untouchable, and management made me catalog the entire movie collection. So when I got home, I was ready to sit in my chair and fall asleep to Antique's Road show.

I stepped through the entryway to find Trudy and Nurse Palmer trying to very crudely glue, yes GLUE, my chair back together.

"What happened to my chair?" I yelled, causing them to drop the Elmer’s glue, which proceeded to seep across the carpet.

Trudy noticed and poured her glass of what I assumed was water on the gooey spill. The smell of whiskey hit my nostrils and I'd reached my boiling point. I knew if I flipped it would only backfire, so I went with the calm approach. I’d flipped on them once when they tried to cook and it was ugly.

*Greg Jennings explains to a female police officer that the bloody knife protruding from a white rabbit on his front lawn was his roommates attempt to cook rabbit stew. The female police officer flashes her PETA badge in the shape of a bunny as Greg is pistol whipped unconscious*

"Ladies, why don't you take a cab out to see a movie, on me," I said, handing Nurse Palmer a fifty dollar bill, the memory of the cooking incident still visible in my mind.

They lit up like Christmas trees, throwing their arms around me. They were out of the house in seconds flat. I looked at my favorite chair, and knew immediately it was done for. I wasn't too mad, considering I had a spare in the garage. I knew when I bought it that Trudy and Nurse Palmer would find a way to wreak their havoc so I found a “two for the price of one” deal. After I had put the chair out by the street I noticed a black SUV was parked in my driveway. A large Salvadoran man stepped out to greet me.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

A second man stepped out, rather skinny and not nearly as threatening as the big Salvadoran, yet the tattoos that covered his body sent shivers down my spine.

"I hope so Mr. Jennings. I want my three grand in the next hour. After that, I want you to find what Trudy took from me. If these things don't happen, my friend here will do things, things you will not like," he said, pointing to the skinny man. I did a foolish thing in this moment of opportunity. I shot straight.

The rather large Salvadoran man lay on the ground, unconscious. The Skinny companion pulled a blade out from his shoe. I thought someone had to be a real bad cat to carry a knife in his shoe.

"You know what I do with this white boy?" he asked.

*Greg Jennings on the ground, blood gushing from several precise knife wounds*

"You threaten me and when I don't back down, you run away?" I asked, trying to obliterate the thought of tattoo guy cutting me into oblivion.

He laughed and slid the knife across his open palm.

"Imagine what I do to you heffe," he said.

The skinny tattoo man jolted suddenly, before falling to the ground in a slump. John Winters came out of the shadows with a beanbag shotgun.

"John! What did you do?!" I exclaimed.

He surveyed his handiwork and slapped me on the back.

"I just saved your ass Greg. Now let's get the story straight before the cops get here. You overpowered these two men after they tried to kill you. You used this rock *rock in John's hand* to hit the skinny one in the back of the head."

I slapped myself and took everything he said to memory.

"John, what are you doing here? And where did you get that beanbag gun?" I asked.

He smiled and raised his eyebrow.

"I wanted to come cheer you up for management giving you crap. As for the gun, I always carry it with me. I'm not legally allowed to bear arms in the United States anymore, but I found a loophole."

With that John walked off into the shadows. John Winters, THE MAN, mysterious past, and my best friend.

After the cops hauled the two gentlemen decorating my lawn off to the big house, Trudy and Nurse Palmer got back. I wanted to talk to Trudy.

Once we were alone, Trudy tackled me to the ground and planted her tongue in my mouth. I shoved her off of me just in time to see Nurse Palmer slam the shades closed.

"I knew you still had feelings for me Greg," Trudy said, obviously buzzed.

I spat the taste of tequila out of my mouth.

"Trudy, I'm not in love with you anymore, and you probably just ended my chances with her. I wanted to talk to you about your landlord and his friend."

Trudy began to sob, and started to pull plants out of my garden at the same time. The woman had a talent for destroying life with her different emotions.

"I owe him a few grand. And I stole his car and sold it to some guy in the city. He got all excited when he opened the trunk because there was a bag of flour. Fool liked to cook or somethin'. Anyway, that's all Gregsy."

I put my face in the dirt. A Salvadoran cartel drug dealer was in jail because of me, and I just got dumped for a second time, yet both women still lived with me. Time to raise the volume of the music Greg.

I let Trudy drag me back inside and flop me on my bed, which was quite moist. Either my water bed had sprung a leak or something more sinister was in play. A stench all too familiar hit my nostrils, which sparked a repressed memory.

*Greg watches in horror as his mother hangs his pee stained sheets out in the front yard for all to see*

Nurse Palmer walked into the room.

"You're lying on about a gallon of piss right now. I stole it from the hospital for Trudy's weekly drug screening".

Trudy tried to stand but failed miserably, slumping to the ground.

"It wasn't Gregsy's fault. I was the one who kissed him. He pushed me off of him."

Nurse Palmer looked at me lying in a lake of piss, and sorrow showed in her eyes.

"Well, I forgive you then Greg. I'll stay, but I'm going to need some time before we get close again."

I lifted myself off the bed, grabbed Nurse Palmer, and threw her face first into the bed. Trudy laughed and jumped on the bed with her. I started laughing, and they pulled me back onto the bed. After a few minutes of lying there, I explained the situation to Nurse Palmer.

"Greg, I can get us a bag of heroine, no problem. As for the money, you'll have to handle that one," she said.

I looked at her curiously, wondering how a woman without a job could score a pound of dynamite. *Street slang for heroine*

"I have a guy who likes me on the police force. I could get him to steal it from the police evidence room."

I kissed Nurse Palmer's hand and told her to get on it immediately. As for me, I had some breaking and entering to do of one Bob Reinhart's home. He had money in his home that he often bragged about in the library. Money he had gotten from the local citizens for buying his art, if you're to call his playdo creations art. So in other words he stole it from my town. It was time to pay a visit to John Winters.

The fortress I was expecting to find John Winters in was nothing more than a one story rancher. I had never been to John's house because our escapades most always took place in the library. I rapped the door knocker twice. An object flung through the air and I knew immediately what was going to happen. My life long partner in frivolity and risky business, Mr. Johnson, was about to go down for the count. I braced myself as best as I could for the impact. Then it hit.

*Greg Jennings falls out of space and time*

"The pain was so excruciating I writhed my arms about and landed another blow to the jewels myself. John Winters stood over me with a slab of meat.

"I'm so sorry Greg! And I'm really sorry about your privates. I thought you were a KGB hit man."

I had often heard John state that the Russians wanted him dead and still had him on their watch list.

The slab of meat was sweet relief to Mr. Johnson. He was starting to feel a bit better.

"So John, you ready to help me plan a break in of our pal at the library, who calls himself an artist?" I asked.

He shoved a utility bag of high tech tools and supplies at me feet.

"Reporting for duty. Mission Objective. Rob Reinhart."

We both laughed as he helped me up, heading for my car. Mission Rob Reinhart was a go.

John got the address off the back of a painting I stole from one of Reinhart's exhibits at the library. Stole is usually such a strong and harmful word. In this case the word should be saved. I saved the viewing public from an atrocity of a painting. A blind man would look at it and realize some hideous, pitiful thing were before him. It seemed Reinhart had scammed more people than we had imagined. Castle Reinhart stood before us, looming like a Transylvanian monastery, where grotesque vampires scribed for the damned. I took a look at John's bag. What I first thought were high tech B&E tools now looked like grandpa's fishing gear picked up at the local dime store.

"John, you don't seriously think we can get into that place with these Vietnam era gadgets do you?"

John looked offended as he polished a lock pick set that looked like it belonged in a museum.

"Have faith in old Johnny my friend."

With that John took an old looking pill bottle marked Pain. Nothing else. Just Pain.

"Take one of these Greg, for your nerves."

I laughed as he put one in my hand.

"John, these pills look like they expired before my dad was born."

He laughed along with me and gave me a stern look.

"Trust me, they're fine. Just take it, for me?"

I obliged and swallowed the pill.

What happened next is a daze. All I remember is John throwing a bag of cash at me, and him driving like a formula one racer back to my condo.

I finally came to, and I was back in my bed. John was pouring me a cup of tea.

"Finally lucid I see" John said, putting the tea next to me on the bedside table.

"John, what happened?" I asked, still unclear if the mission was a success.

He threw me a large bag of cash and I couldn't stop smiling.

"But how?" I asked.

John took a step backward and took out the old pill bottle from the break in.

"I drugged you before I went in and got the money. It’s plausible deniability Greg. Plus I knew you would choke under the pressure and do some bitch move that would get us caught or worse. No offense buddy."

I felt a little hurt but laughed it off.

"John, you're the man. Thank you."

He patted me on the shoulder and put the bag of cash under my bed.

"I think someone wants to thank you for your bravery, in a way I can't," John said, stepping out of the room.

Nurse Palmer walked in wearing a rather risque black dress, and shut the light off.

I heard her slip and she grabbed for the bed and came down with full force on my other half.

After taking an ice cold shower to take my mind away from the crushing pain in my groin, Nurse Palmer and I made up to the tune of Trudy's drunken singing in the adjacent room. All I wanna do by Sheryl Crow. It sounded like she was having one hell of a fun time with Captain Morgan. I had just kissed Nurse Palmer goodnight when a knock came from the front door.

"Greg, I forgot to tell you, that cop friend of mine is dropping the drugs off here," Nurse Palmer said.

*Greg Jennings tries to explain the bag of heroine in his apartment to the man with the drug sniffing dog who lives next door*

I somersaulted out of bed and dashed for the front door. I opened it halfway and the portly officer did the rest by kicking my door in. The metal from the door latch sliced my forehead on it's rampant opening. I pulled the cop in and shut the door quickly.

"Who wants some DISCO BISCUITS!!!!!" the officer screamed, apparently trying to break the sound barrier. *Street slang for ecstasy*

After putting a towel on my newly acquired flesh wound, I sat the man down.

"I'll just take this bag and you can be on your way. As for the disco biscuits, I'd like to avoid traveling to the fifth dimension tonight, so no thanks," I said taking the bag out of his trembling hands.

The officer began shaking uncontrollably and after about ten seconds, was completely still.

I leaned down quick and took his pulse. Nothing. After a minute of CPR, I started to feel a little lightheaded. The cop was so hopped up on ex, I realized that when I gave him mouth to mouth some of it passed into my system. Either I was hallucinating or my apartment had just turned into the coolest jungle tree house ever made in a manner of seconds. Tigers and lions were walking around with food trays, and I couldn't take my eyes off the most beautiful hippo dancing the salsa around my fire pit. A wolf dressed in black blocked my sight of the mama cita doing the salsa. That hippo had some serious moves!

"Greg, you're not going to enjoy this, so just brace yourself," the wolf said, holding what looked like a bucket of molten lava.

I whipped my tail in the air and growled at the wolf. Who invited a wolf into my jungle tree house?

The wolf drenched me in the molten lava, the jungle party melting before my eyes. I saw the wolf transform into John Winters, and my senses started to return. The cop was gone, and the bag of heroine was on the table, along with the cash. John helped me up, and I knew it was time for the grand finale, the showdown at high noon.

I brewed a pot of coffee that could kill a rhino to wake Trudy out of her drunken stupor. After she was awake, I handed her the telephone to call the big Salvadoran, aka Landlord drug dealer. John informed me that he had made bail along with his tattooed Mexican dog. Trudy put the phone to her ear.

"It's ringing...Gregsy I'm nervous," she said, the phone shaking in her hand.

"Just remember Trudy, we're meeting in the park. It's open enough for John to perch in one of the trees with a sniper rifle, in case anything goes wrong" I said.

Trudy motioned for me to stop talking.

"Yeah, hey Manny, it's Trudy. We have you're money and the stuff. We want to meet you at the park. Yeah...what? Well I thought...okay I guess that's fine."

Click.

"Trudy, what the blazes just happened?" John asked, polishing his rifle.

She took a long swig of the coffee I brewed for her.

"We're meeting him at the park in the city," she said.

My heart sank and I wished I had made Trudy watch more cop shows with me when we were dating. I always wondered what would come of her peace rallies and listening to old records about flying bunnies and talking monkeys.

"Trudy, do you know what's going to happen? We're going to give him the goods, and his Mexican friend is going to remember I sent him to jail and decide to make stew out of me, then feed me to his dogs," I said.

She began to sob, and looked confused.

"Who would want to eat human stew!" she said through the tears. I wondered what Trudy would be like completely sober.

*Trudy Paige serves Greg and John cold beers as the chicken casserole she bakes for them is coming out of the oven, with chocolate chip cookies on the way. Trudy hides the knife she plans to murder Greg with as she retreats to the kitchen*

I knew there would obviously be a twist to our Leave it to Beaver moment.

"Greg, the hospital is right next to the park. We just have to get me admitted and you can tell reception you're visiting your dying Grandma or some shit and I can get situated in one of the rooms facing the park," John said.

*Greg tries to explain to police why he has a disassembled sniper rifle hidden on his person after telling the receptionist he was visiting his Grandmother*

"Yeah, screw that John. Bethany will get you into the hospital. As for the gun, I'm sure it can be hidden in something made to look like a get well gift," I said.

John slapped me on the back.

"If we make it out of this alive Greg, I'm going to buy the rest of the library and give it to you," he said.

The mentality of James Bond suddenly came upon me.

"Let's get ready troops," I said, looking at Trudy sipping her coffee as if it were her only child, and John, who looked ready to rip a man's head off.

I could feel my heart pumping with a dangerous fury on the ride into the city. It was probably nerves, or it could have been Trudy accidentally opening the door to the car going 75 miles per hour on the highway, pulling me out of the car to keep from falling out herself, and an eighteen wheeler nearly turning me into roadkill. John had pulled over, and offered me another one of his "Pain" pills. I decided I wanted to be awake when we were all mercilessly shot to death. It wouldn't play out that way it turned out. We arrived at the park and found a blond haired man in a black Armani suit holding a sign with my name like a limo driver. I sent John into the hospital with Nurse Palmer, had Trudy park the car, Lord willing, and I proceeded on foot to where the man was. He sat on a bench in the center of the park, eating a bag of kiosk popcorn. Pigeons waded around him hoping to get the man's pity. His eyes were cold as ice, no emotion. I suddenly wished I had John's beanbag shotgun. My paranoia had me imagining John and Nurse Palmer being hauled away by the feds. They had been watching us all along. I pushed the silly thought aside as I strolled up to the Calvin Klein hitman.

"I'm Greg Jennings, and I have your money. Also, I have the other thing." I tried saying it nonchalantly, wanting to keep my cool.

The man dumped his popcorn to the ground. It appeared he was human after all and not a terminator set on strangling me with his robotic arms.

"My employer had to flee the country, the feds were watching him. He wants you to deliver his payment to him in person, or he threatens to implicate you in his cartel. The feds will take out a lease in your ass and they won't leave, for a looong time."

*Greg Jennings shifts uncomfortably as the Feds put a second story on their home, the pain sending shock waves through his right butt cheek*

"Where is your employer?" I asked.

The man scanned the treeline, apparently looking for feds.

"He's gone to Turkey. There is a private plane waiting at the airport for your departure. There are four seats, one for you and the other three for your companions. Yes, my employer knows they helped you. You have no choice. We have informed your artist friend you robbed his home and he now has warrants out for you all. Either get on the plane, or go to jail on breaking and entering charges, and implications of being part of a cartel. The drugs we planted at your house will only confirm this."

I wanted to scream, to beat the man's pretty face in. I wanted to turn him into a hideous deformity of a man. Instead I turned tail and booked for the hospital. We had a plane to catch.

After I explained the situation to John and Nurse Palmer, we found Trudy parked in a garden that was adjacent to a private school for girls. I was beat repeatedly with a wooden ruler by several nuns as I made my way around to the driver's side door. I moved Trudy aside, started the car, and turned back onto the road. John had me stop by his house for "supplies". By the time we reached the airport, we had enough firepower to take on a small army. The private plane that awaited us didn't hold the appeal that most private planes do. It was a rust bucket.

"I think she's got charm," John said.

Nurse Palmer moaned as she entered the cabin.

"Remind you of your days in the civil war John?" she sneered.

I could tell both Trudy and Nurse Palmer weren't happy with the accommodations.

John ignored her and unloaded the rest of his "supplies".

"This thing will take us all the way to Turkey?" I asked the pilot.

He laughed heartily and I noticed he only had one good eye, the other covered by an eye patch.

"She goes with the wind captain. We'll stop in Manchester and from there it should take 4 hours."

The pilot laughed crazily, spitting on me a little as he closed the cockpit door.

"This beats going to jail any day Greg," John chimed in, noticing my unease.

The plane started up and after bouncing a few times, we were in the air. Turkey, here we come.

Miraculously, I was able to sleep during the flight. I don't really remember how I fell asleep, just that I did. I awoke after a good few hours rack time to see John fiddling with the door. He was pulling out screws and tearing off duck tape that held latches together. This was the only thing keeping us from a hard fall into the deep.

"John, what the blazes are you doing?" I asked grabbing his arm.

He smiled and showed me his tool box.

"I'm just making some modifications to the door. I could feel a slight breeze flowing through one of the holes."

*Greg Jennings and company are ripped out of the plane into the stormy ocean night, where the grandson of Jaws awaited*

"John, do me a favor and wait until we land in Manchester, okay?" I asked.

He pulled out a hat that said I heart Manchester on it.

"Greg, I hate to say it but I slipped you a pain pill in Manchester. The Feds caught up with us and there was one hell of a getaway. I had to go through a good portion of our war inventory. There were bullet holes in the door and the cabin was depressurizing. All fixed now though."

I would be mad but it was John. He probably saved all our lives again.

"How are Trudy and Bethany?" I asked.

He pointed to the back of the plane. They were laying down comfortably, no doubt in John's drug induced coma.

I leaned back and let sleep take hold of me again. When I awoke, we had landed in Turkey.

A limo that looked to be made out of collected aluminum cans waited for us. The airport was a lone dirt road. We were definitely flying under the radar.

"Welcome to Cankurtaran, white American pigs" the driver said to us with a wide grin.

John shoved a desert eagle in the guy's face and the psychotic clown smile faded.

After we had been driving for ten minutes or so, we came to a halt.

"Greg. You go in there now. Alone" the driver said. His smile was back.

John protested but after I assured him I would be fine, he calmed down. Trudy and Nurse Palmer were still coming out of their drug coma. I approached the building slowly. Its walls jutted out in every way imaginable, I wondered how it was still standing. The rustic walls looked dilapidated and I immediately had to go to the bathroom. I cursed myself for not going on the plane, the bathroom that consisted of a large bucket that acted more like a geyser than a toilet. A patch of turbulence would have you drenched in the one eyed captain's urine.

A very large woman motioned to me and I assumed she was working for the Salvodoran. She was three times my width and looked like a mix between Java the Hutt and the mother from What's eating Gilbert Grape.

She led me through the building until we found an office. We were finally getting somewhere.

She had a man at the desk take out what looked like a contract. They both signed it and the man motioned for me to sign. I figured it was a receipt for the transaction for the Cartel's bookkeeper. I signed my name and handed the contract to the man. He broke out in song for a good minute, which I thought was odd. He then threw confetti over Jenny Craig from the block and myself. She then planted a kiss on my lips. I realized I had just gotten married.

I started waving my arms like a wild man, trying to make them both understand I was tricked. This sparked another repressed memory

*Greg Jennings spits the "fudge" Popsicle out of his mouth as the class bully smacks his butt for the whole cafeteria to see*

I knew my rights, I had the option to get the marriage annulled. After finally getting enough interpretation from the man's jumbled English I found out I could get it annulled on the third floor of the building. I grabbed the papers and exited the room. I could feel the floorboards rumbling. My bridezilla stampeded into the hall, set on stopping me from making an obvious mistake. Her point of view, not mine. I realized even though she was big, that whale of a woman ran like an Olympic gold medalist. She had a deep lustful gleam in her eye. I knew her thoughts. She wanted us to have sex so the marriage couldn't be annulled.

*Greg Jennings screams as he is overpowered by a tidal wave of blubber. He is strattled to the ground, and becomes his new bride to be's bitch*

I wish I could day that was my imagination but unfortunately I was raped by my newly acquired wife that day. To be fair, it wasn't all that bad.

After Damla(I found out my wife's name while she had her way with me) rolled off of me I let out a few big heaves. She laughed and slapped my bare ass.

"You very funny Greg."

I couldn't believe my ears. She could clearly speak English.

"What the hell Damla? Why did you force me to marry you?" I asked. I was still trying to get air back into my ruptured lungs.

"I've want a husband for many year now. I see you and say he is mine."

I heard laughter erupting from around the corner.

"Who's there?" I called out.

Trudy and Nurse Palmer came into the hallway with tears of laughter streaming down their faces. John Winters covered their rear with his Desert Eagle.

"Well well Greg, I think we might have to take a break after this onneeahaha" Nurse Palmer cracked while Trudy fell to the ground holding her side.

John tossed my clothes to me and I quickly got changed.

"How long have you guys been listening in?" I asked.

Trudy stood up and looked at Damla with a smile that could kill a banshee.

"We've been there long enough to understand that you like to let the big girls ride on top. Also it appears you and, Damla is it? are newlyweds."

She shook hands with a slightly confused Damla.

*Greg Jennings nods to John Winters and John pulls the trigger of his Desert Eagle, blowing a hole through Greg's forehead*