#redd rum

After Monroe is arrested, and Charlie is hospitalized, Christopherson flips the script. Sharpens his story like a razor. Sells it all packaged up nice and neat, a giving and generous man taken advantage of, roped into associating with criminals. Sad. Very sad.

He gets what he wants, I guess. The sermons he's been dogmatically recording for years go viral. He's glad he set up that camera and pointed it at the altar, now. He's glad he got the footage. He's glad.

He gets married. Has kids. A beautiful home. A pretty wife, that he... He lives with. She really is very pretty. He wishes she would stop dying her hair that gaudy shade of red. He never told her to at the threat of withholding funds for groceries, don't be ridiculous. And the kids, well. He has to love them. It's godly.

I'm sure Christopher's sermons play constantly after he's murdered... Before the footage leaks. A martyr for those first few weeks, before Charlie drops the evidence. Maryanne was the first to die, after all. It's easy to feel bad for a simple preacher's wife.

Charlie can't quite remember it all in the electrocuted haze, but he's sure nurse Maryanne was smiling as she turned the knob from five to ten on the shock machine strapped to his temples. He wonders if jumper cables clipped to your ears feel similar.

Charlie isn't sure how Chris and Maryanne met. Charlie thinks he should be able to remember if Chris ever visited, but the twenty years he spent in the asylum are a blur. Maybe Chris did visit. Maybe Charlie doesn't want to remember.

Charlie wrote it all down, in those first few days. Everything that happened. All the names. The important ones. Christopherson. Monroe. The name of Charlie's old pimp, a few particularly horrid family members. Anything Charlie didn't want to be forced to forget. People who need to be visited, once Charlie is out. Should he ever get out.

He gets out.

Life isn't perfect. There's no way to tie up every loose end. Christopher will learn that, before it's all over. The kids are easier to deal with. They're quick to take the money Charlie offers and they leave. Change your name, Charlie suggests, and enjoy the water in Tahiti. It's the nicest he can be to these little ingrates.

(He may or may not castrate both of them. Maybe they die from the blood loss. Charlie just doesn't want any more Kings in the world.)

If you want to fuck Charlie, you need to be ready to pay.

I'm sure Christopherson has lived in a constant state of stress. Paranoia will destroya. What if Monroe gets out of jail on good behavior? What if Charlie escapes the asylum? His hair starts falling out early. Has to pay for a hair transplant plugs. Anything to keep up appearances, right? He's only just turned fifty. He can't be going BALD.

In my heart of hearts I hope it's on his birthday when it happens. Happy fortieth, Chris. You've got a choice to make. Do you admit what you did and live? Do you take responsibility? Or do you die, and your lies can die with you? You'll always be a star. The world will never know you're a rapist, an accessory to murder, a professional embezzler. You will always be Good Saint Christopher.

If you cross your fingers behind your back, any lie you tell is forgiven. Usually it's Chris who crosses his fingers. Now it's Charlie's turn.

Charlie will burn the church, either way. That big pretty church Christopher bought, and renovated, and renovated and renovated... but he could never really stop smelling the sweat and blood no matter what he did, no matter how many times he ripped up the carpet or had it replaced.

It's important to note b4 this sordid tale begins: Charlie and Christopher never technically have 'traditional' sex. Christopher pays Charlie for a lot of things, both sexual and nonsexual, but there's no penetration involved. (Chris, has gotten at least 200 blowjobs from a crossdressing hooker that he abuses on the regular: IM A VIRGIN!!!!) In Christopher's mind, it's pure denial. They have never had sex. They will never have sex because Christopher is waiting until he's married. Whatever he pays Charlie for is a service.

It's no secret tht Charlie delights in pushing Christopher's buttons. That's what he does. They get together, they do the job, Charlie needles Christopher the whole time until Christopher is a trembling mess of nerves, Christopher pays Charlie to relieve the tension. Sexually, violently, sometimes both. You get the picture.

Charlie wants her money, above all. She's homeless, and she's in debt with some seriously nasty people. She needs all the money she can get. She's willing to put up with a lot from Christian, because they rely on each other, and Christian brings in a lot of money, and... She cares about him. Ough she fucking hates him, but. She adores him. He's so, so funny. (In the way a clown is that you laugh at, not as in. He has a good sense of humor. He's horrible at telling jokes.)

There must've been a straw that breaks the camel's back, but from Charlie's perspective, it's a day like any other when it happens. The most recent con went pretty good, as a matter of fact. Sure there were some minor inconveniences, but nobody saw them at the clinic. They can't be linked to anything tht happened there.

Monroe leaves first. He asks Charlie to come to his apartment after. Tells Charlie she can sleep there. Charlie pays Monroe no mind. Her attention is on Christopher.

Christopher has to stop by the church before he drops Richie off at the shelter. Charlie agrees, because she always finds it very... Quaint. Being in the church after hours, when it's not filled to bursting with hypocrites and assholes. The stained glass, at least, is pretty. Charlie likes pretty things, when they aren't people.

Charlie drinks the communion wine left on the altar. Absolutely drains the whole bottle while she's waiting for Chris to get done in his office. They argue. They always argue. This is nothing new.

Charlie says Chrristopher is a hypocrite. You bring your hooker mistress here in the house of the lord bc it gives you a little thrill but you get mad when the altar is desecrated. Just because you weren't the one to do it. You can't even let your own best friend have a little wine. Very mean!

Christopher comes unglued. I think in the aftermath of the rape what offends Charlie the most is the fact Christopher didn't pay him after. That's what she claims at least, as Christopher drags her naked and bloodied out of the church (she imagines it burning. It must be the pills she took earlier. Always something with the pills. That's what Chris tells her.) and drives her into the desert.

Charlie is ready. This is how it ends. This is the inevitable conclusion to their... whatever they've got going on. (I hesitate to call it a relationship.) Christopher, killing Charlie after a brutal rape, and Richie getting buried in the dirt to rot. Perfect ending. Charlie is at peace.

Christopher has the shovel. He's kept a shovel in his car for weeks now. Just in case. He raises it up. He hesitates. Charlie is quick to assure Christopher that if he lets Charlie walk away from this, Charlie will make him regret it. Maybe not immediately, but one day. One day, Christopher will wish he went through with killing Charlie here. She'll tell people what happened. Go to the cops. A rape kit, a court date, and Christian's face on the news.

Think about it, Chris. This could all be over. You kill me, you kill yourself after in this empty desert warehouse. Hang yourself from the rafters once you bury me. Hell, hang me up there too. Decorations for a lonely place, the two of us, together. And it's all over. No more pain, right?

Phase two of this boss battle begins when Christopher can't go through with it. He's done a lot of horrible things. Extortion, embezzling, now rape. But he's never killed before. That's what Charlie does, or Monroe. Not Chris. Never good, pious Christopherson. Saint Christopher of the Truth.

For the first time, Christopherson begs Charlie for something. Don't tell. Don't tell. Please. They can pretend this didn't happen, they can both walk away. Please don't make Chris do something rash. Please God. Please don't just sit there looking at him while he cries. Comfort him. Isn't that what friends are for?

Charlie is disgusted. He grabs the shovel, and gets in the car. He blankly tells Chris to get in the car too. They're going back to the city.

They drive. Chris grows more hysterical by the minute. He begs Charlie to reassure him that they can both still care about each other. We love each other, right? It's love?