Chapter Text
Chapter One – Spot the Psycho (Cornbugs)
June 2 nd , 1976
Tiffanie-Jenn kept her eyes glued to the road, acrylics tapping impatiently on the wheel. Every time Saul opened his mouth (likely to complain) she reached down to turn up the music. He still hadn’t learned how to shut his mouth so the music was obscenely loud—screaming guitars and bass shaking her pink pickup with every drum hit. The Texas roads seemed to stretch on forever, broken sporadically by small redneck towns and cheap roadside attractions. Numerous times Tiff had tried to pull over but Saul had continually insisted they reach a hotel sooner rather than later. Still, with the sun beginning to set and even a seedy motel in sight, Tiff had decided she wasn’t listening to Saul anymore. They would have been off the road by now if Saul had let his companion seduce her way into a motel room with some strangers but apparently, he “had standards” and “morals” whatever the fuck those were. Tiff had long-since decided upholding her parent’s stuffy Christian values was lame and took far too much effort when she could just suck a cock and get almost anything she wanted. As they trundled along the road (more pothole than road) Tiff, not for the first time, regretted agreeing to ferry Saul across Texas. In what would a self-respecting woman drive her ex-boyfriend to his family home? Tiff didn’t know but she was running low on self-respect… and patience, so when a neon billboard flashed past advertising Captain Spaulding’s Museum of Monsters and Madmen she ignored Sauls protests as she took the exit. Eventually fed up with her, Saul reached over the console to turn off the radio, his own shouting replacing her music.
“It’s late! We should be finding somewhere to sleep, not visiting sadistic tourist attractions!” He whined. Tiff slapped his hand away, “accidentally” stabbing him with her nail.
“Look! They have gas, asshole,” she said “ooh, and fried chicken!”
“Like you need to eat more fatass. Have you ever even looked at a salad?” Saul grumbled, rubbing his hand.
“More for guys to hold onto,” she shrugged, pulling up beside a pump and turning off the truck.
“What? Like it’s appealing to stare at all those fat rolls while they fuck you?” He shot her a look, getting out of the car himself and straightening his (likely expensive) t-shirt.
“I know you’re not speaking from experience because my fat rolls never stopped you from being a one-pump-chump. Were you a preemie? I should ask your mama if you came early then too,” Tiff scoffed, tossing fried blonde hair over her shoulder.
“You’re disgusting, Tiff,” Saul spat, rounding the truck. She sidled up to him, batting her lashes up at him and pouting her overly-glossed lips. He froze, heart pumping as her tits pressed into her arm and she reached around him, hand creeping by his ass. Then the smile dropped, and before he knew it she was halfway to the museum doors, his wallet in her hand.
“Just pump the gas fuckwad,”
He groaned and did what he was told. Inside, Tiff looked around, sidling up to the counter. No one was manning the front so she dinged the bell and took a moment to look around at the absurd taxidermy and freakish experiments that cluttered the room. When her tummy rumbled, she turned her attention to the fried chicken behind the glass beneath the counter. Bent over to get a closer look, her denim shorts rode up her ass and her tits threatened to fall out of her tank top–her favorite blue one with the playboy bunny on the front.
“Hello there,” someone said and Tiff squeaked and straightened.
“Hi!” she smiled, leaning on the counter and giving the man a once over. He was tall, dressed in a clown suit, face painted from his bald head to his beard, yellow teeth accentuated by black lips.
“Captain Spaulding, I presume?” she smiled, leaning against the counter.
“You presume correct little lady!” He moved past her to stand behind the counter, “what can I do for ya?”
“Well I have a question to start,”
“Shoot,”
“Can I get the chicken before I look at the freak shit or are you one of those ‘don’t get grease on my glass’ assholes?” She smiled up at him innocently.
“You can buy as much chicken as you like whenever you like but if you get crumbs on my taxidermy I’ll shoot ya myself,” he smiled and Tiff knew he wasn’t joking.
“You drive a hard bargain, I’ll take ten pieces,” Tiff opened Saul’s wallet and flipped through it, pulling out a wad of cash, “oh and my truck’s at pump one,”
“I gotcha sweetheart,” Captain Spaulding said as he took the cash and shoved it all in the register without looking before bending down to fill a paper bag with chicken, tossing it on the counter. Tiff took it without a word and grabbed a leg, taking a bite and moaning.
“Holy shit man, you make this?” Tiff asked, taking another filthy open-mouthed bite.
“Yup!”
“I’d suck some serious dick for chicken this good,” she groaned as the bell above the door rang.
“Living up to your reputation as a fat slut,” Saul grumbled, snatching his wallet off the counter, “I told you I’d pay for gas on this trip, not your filthy habits,”
Tiff ignored him and looked up at Spaulding “ignore him, he’s just bitter he can’t thrust hard enough to make my tits bounce. He compensates for having no dick by having no personality either.”
Spaulding cackled as Saul glared at her.
“At least I don’t make my pussy my whole personality,” he huffed, crossing his arms.
“I take offense to that! I only make it half my personality, the rest is my anger issues and criminally low standards,” she scoffed through a mouthful of chicken.
“You can say that again,” Saul groaned, “you proved that earlier tonight.”
“What’d she do?” Spaulding inquired, picking his teeth with a monkey’s paw.
“Offered herself for a motel room,” Saul said in a tone that clearly indicated that Spaulding should be offended by this too.
“Not many of those out here,” Spaulding shrugged, “that probably was your best bet for getting one. Nothing for a good 20 miles from here.”
“Aww fuck, looks like we’re sleeping in the truck… unless?” she fluttered her eyelashes at Spaulding. He laughed again.
“Sorry, doll. No vacancy.”
“Not even for a BJ?” she pouted as Saul gagged. Spaulding shook his head.
“Anal’s not my preference but I’ll do it,”
“No dice, doll.”
“See? Not even the circus freak wants to fuck your fat ass!” Saul spat.
“It’s not ‘cause she’s fat! Hell, that’s my preference I mean, the bigger the cushion the sweeter the pushin’” Spaulding shoots her a sly look and a seedy smile, Tiff returns it with a wink.
“But,” Spaulding continued, “As much as I’d love a ride, sweet thing, I can’t tonight.”
“Fuck!” She groaned, “and I thought you were a nice clown.”
Before he could answer the bell jingled and a girl in criminally low-rise jeans and a cowboy hat skipped in.
“Hey Daddy! Mama’s not up for cooking tonight so she sent me for whatever fried chicken you got left,” she smiled before catching sight of Tiff.
“Holy shit girl you’re hot!” she gasped, eyes raking across her body, unabashedly eyeing her tits and partially exposed belly.
“Aww thanks girly! You’re fucking stunning,” Tiff responded, wiping grease from her mouth.
“Aren’t you sweet! What brings you to Ruggsville?” The stranger asked as Spaulding filled a large bucket with the remaining chicken.
“Just passing through. We were hoping to find somewhere to sleep but apparently it’s the truck tonight.”
“Aww no darlin! No one as pretty as you should be sleeping in a car. Tell you what, you come stay with my family. Mama loves company. I’m sure we can find room for you and your boyfriend.” The girl smiled. Tiff gagged.
“Ex-boyfriend. I’m only driving him across the country because I don’t got nothing better to do,” the girl nodded with understanding.
“I didn’t wanna say anything but he looks boring,” Saul shook himself from his stupor (he had been staring at the newcomer’s ass) to make an offended noise.
“My college had slim pickings. I dropped out for more than just my terrible grades,”
“With tits like those, who needs a degree,” she laughed, taking an overflowing bucket of chicken from Spaulding and tossing him a few bills.
“You get it,” Tiff laughed.
“Come on, you can follow me home,” she left the building and Tiff followed, Saul moped after them, “cute truck!”
“Thanks!”
“Hey! Wait, are we just following some rando home?” Saul questioned, finally done staring and coming to his senses.
“Oh where are my manners! My name is Baby, that there is my brother RJ,” she pointed to a scruffy man sitting in an idling tow-truck.
“There, now they’re not strangers! Get in the truck,” Tiff hopped in the truck, barely giving Saul a moment to buckle his seatbelt before peeling after them. Thankfully the drive was short, as Saul’s complaining was near-constant. It didn’t stop even when they pulled into the driveway, or when they stepped out of the truck and into the earshot of their guests.
“Seriously this pace looks like it’s about to fall down. I have standards-” suddenly Tiff was facing him, one hand on her hip and glossed lips pulled into a snarl.
“I don’t give a damn, rich boy! I don’t care how much cash you have unless I’m the one holding your wallet. If we were anywhere near a hotel up to your standards you could feel free to stay there but we’re not! And this fine piece of ass offered us somewhere to stay and I’m the one with the car so if you wanna walk somewhere else, be my guest!” Saul glanced back at the gate and the miles of dirt road beyond before opening his mouth. One of Tiff’s fingers silenced him, smushing his lips.
“Ah, ah, ah, you’re either gonna turn around and walk yourself to your family’s house in California, or you’re gonna keep your mouth shut,” she batted her eyelashes at him in a false innocence that completely contrasted the danger in her tone.
“Do I get a third option?” he snarked back.
“Yeah!” Tiff said, retreating in the direction of Baby who was giggling as she watched their display, “I cut your dick off!”
Eyes wide, Saul followed reluctantly. RJ followed after him, quiet and imposing. Ahead of them, Baby was dragging Tiff by the arm and they were giggling, looking at the wall of limbless dolls nailed to the wall by the door.
“These all yours?” Tiff asked, seemingly intrigued.
“Yep! Went through a lot of babydolls as a kid,” Baby responded, shouldering the door open.
“Mama!” She called as RJ sidled off, leaving Saul to trail after Tiff and the dixie chick, eyeing the messy house nervously, “I brought a couple guests, hope you don’t mind!”
Baby deposited the chicken on a cluttered table before dragging Tiff to an even messier kitchen to gather plates.
“Sorry, we weren’t expecting guests,” Baby giggled.
“That’s obvious,” Saul muttered and Tiff shot him a glare.
“What’s obvious is you have no emotional attachment to your balls,” she smiled before letting Baby drag her back to the dining room, leaving Saul sputtering, one hand subconsciously clutching his balls. Saul stood alone for a moment, biting his tongue. Had she always been this much of a bitch? Yes. The answer came easy–that’s why he dated her, on a bet of all things. Drunk at the college bar he had made a comment to the sexy bratty chick that he could tame her–she said if he did she’d get his name tattooed on her wherever he wanted. A year of his college dating years wasted, and now he was stuck in a crap shack in butt-fuck nowhere Texas.
“You tryna fucking wank it subtly because I don’t appreciate jizz stains in my kitchen, shit stain” a ragged accented voice snarled and Saul spun around, hand springing away from his crotch. It belonged to a tall scraggly man, complexion pale and gaunt. His eyes were red-rimmed and his stringy platinum hair framing his scraggy face. Saul shot him a look and didn’t answer, choosing to sidle after his ill-chosen ex. In the dining room, Tiff and Baby had been joined by an older woman in lurid pink lipstick and blue bustier who was greeting her guest enthusiastically.
“Well aren’t you a pretty one!” She smiled, pulling Tiff into a side hug that threatened to force her heaving breasts out of their meager covering.
“Why thank you! You have a lovely house, the decorations are gorgeous,” Tiff responded. Saul snorted.
“Hoarder chic,” he muttered none-too quietly. All three women looked up and shot him a glare.
“Who's your friend?” the older woman said icily.
“Less of a friend, more of an unwanted burden,” Tiff snorted.
“Unwanted! You volunteered to drive me-”
“Only because your privileged ass never learned to drive and I had nothing better to do than torment your sorry ass. I don’t care how important your daddy is. It’s not my fault he didn’t teach you any manners,” Tiff scoffed, tossing her hair before turning to the older woman. Saul, however, wasn’t done.
“Hey! Don’t turn away from me slut, I’m not done,” when she continued to ignore him he turned to the tall man who had appeared beside him, “you fuck a woman once and she gets all entitled…” he trailed off and gulped taking in the figure beside him. He was massive and… lumpy? His misshapen head was covered by a strange leather mask and he stared at Saul as though perplexed.
“I don’t appreciate you using that kind of language in my house mister,” the older woman said, “and I’m sure Tiny doesn’t either. He’s always had a soft spot for the ladies.”
She nudged Tiff and gave her a wink and she responded by waving at the giant man “hi Tiny!”
Tiny grunted and nodded bashfully, making his way to the table as the older woman explained that he was deaf due to a terrible fire set by her ex husband, Earl.
“That’s terrible Mrs. Firefly!” Tiff said, sitting down between the older woman—Mrs. Firefly—and Baby.
“Oh he’s alright, honey, we take care of him. And call me Mama, everyone does.”
Saul stood awkwardly in the doorway watching as the table filled; the man with the truck (RJ) and an old man (who they called Grandpa Hugo). He edged forward awkwardly, settling himself in the chair next to the two newcomers. He didn’t notice the silence that fell over the table until he looked up from his slightly cracked plate to see everyone staring at him. No, not at him, behind him. He glanced upward to see the same scraggly man from earlier hovering over him.
“That’s my seat, jackass,” he grumbled.
“I don’t see any place cards,” Saul snarked, looking down and crossing his arms. He settled his gaze resolutely on the wall above Tiff’s head. Apparently he should have been looking at her, because a moment later something hard and cold and a little sharp smacked him in the forehead.
“What the fuck!” He screeched, hand springing up to feel his forehead. Looking down at his plate he saw a fork–old, ornate, and slightly bloody.
“Manners, dickwad! Just cause this isn’t one of your daddy’s fuckass galas doesn’t mean you can be an ass,” Tiff groaned, taking a moment to mutter under her breath before turning to Mama Firefly and apologizing. Saul opened his mouth to argue before catching the scraggly man’s eye. Silently, he stood and moved to the other empty chair.
“I’ll get ya some iodine,” Mama said a little coldly, disappearing for a moment as the newcomer sat, slightly hunched, his watery eyes raking over Tiff.
“Hey!” She smiled, batting her lashes at the stranger as though she hadn’t just thrown a fork at her travel companion.
“That’s Otis,” Baby added when he didn’t speak.
“Hi Otis,” Tiff said, acutely aware of how his eyes were roaming over her exposed cleavage and soft skin. Yet his gaze wasn’t filled with the same type of lechery she was used to. There was lust, yes, but it seemed to run deeper and darker. He wanted to do more than run his hands over her tits, that was for sure. Freak… Tiff could work with that. Their strangely charged staring was broken when Mama entered with a rag dripping in something dark, immediately pressing it to the cut on Saul’s forehead. He hissed in pain, pushing her hand away.
“If you want an infection, fine by me,” Mama huffed as Baby laughed.
“You’re such a crybaby!” Baby laughed, nudging Tiff.
“Isn’t he just?” Tiff laughed, turning her attention to her new friend.
“Shut up, woman! God!” Saul spat, “let you on my dick once and you decide you act like you’re entitled to an opinion on everything I do. Women used to know how to behave!”
He huffed into the brief silence that followed his declaration. A moment later it was broken by a snort of laughter from Tiff.
“God you’re such a douche!” She cackled, “I’d let you get away with bullshit comments like that if you actually had any value as a man but instead you act like you’re entitled to control because I let you stick it in a couple times. Don’t act like you have the skills to tame a woman if you can’t put your money where your cock is. Most mediocre dick in the fucking country,” she finished with a mumble that sent Baby into a fit of laughter.
“What?” Otis barked, squinting at Tiff between amusement and curiosity, “so you’re saying if you get fucked hard enough you’ll just turn into a pretty submissive hole for your guy to fuck?”
“Not by a long shot,” she laughed, running her tongue over her teeth, “but I figure since that's so hard to do if a guy can do that he can handle the rest of me.”
Otis looked at her with renewed interest, something dangerous glinting in his eyes, “sounds like you want to be housebroken.” Tiff shivered under his gaze. Something about him felt dangerous, more than just a redneck freak talking big.
“What and you think you’re the one to do it?” Tiff challenged. She’d like to see him try… genuinely, she was intrigued.
“You bet I could mama,”
“Can y’all shut up? I wanna eat!” Grandpa Hugo grouched.
“Shut up fuckwad!” Otis spat back.
“Oh come on boys!” Mama said, placing some kind of casserole on the table. Hugo immediately grabbed the serving spoon, filling his plate before he began stuffing his face. Saul audibly gagged.
“There’s no way I’m eating that,” he scoffed. Baby’s sweet face soured in seconds and she stood up, leaning across RJ to hold her butter knife in his face.
“Y’know I’m getting real sick of you!” She said matter-of-factly. “Seriously, we’re just tryna be fucking hospitable!”
“What the fuck!” he shrieked, pushing his chair away from Baby, “I’m used to Tiff being a freak. I should’ve known she would somehow get us stuck in a fucking madhouse!”
Tiff ignored his comment, torn between admiring the sliver of Baby’s ass crack that was visible at her waistline, and laughing at Saul’s terrified face. Nearly falling from his chair, Saul scrambled to his feet, backing away.
“You know what? Fine! Have fun with your freaks, I’m outta here,” he stormed for the door, only to find the looming figure of Tiny in his way.
“‘Fraid I can’t let you do that honey,” Mama said regretfully. Saul whipped around, glancing around. Grandpa Hugo was still shivering mystery meat casserole into his mouth but almost everyone else was standing. Mama had stepped away from the table, allowing Baby to round the table to stand beside Otis, an unreadable expression on his face as his hand flexed on the handle of something in his hand. RJ stood off to the side, not actively approaching as Baby and Otis were, instead using his large frame to block the other door. Tiff had frozen, eyes darting from one person to the next, an odd expression on her face. Whatever she was feeling, it didn’t look like fear. Heart pumping in his ears, Saul backed away from Tiny only to find himself face-to-face with Baby. He lunged, hoping to overpower her but the moment he moved to grab her a pair of spindly hands dug into his arms with bruising force. He saw Tiff try to stand but Mama put her hands on her shoulders forcing her back into her seat. Fuck his hip hurt. Why? He looked down to see the hilt of a steak knife protruding from just below the waistband of his designer jeans.
“What the fuck,” he coughed, the sight of his own blood making him queasy.
“What the fuck!” Tiff shrieked, pushing Mama’s hands off her and rounding the table to stand in front of Otis, ignoring Saul as he reached a hand out to her.
“Yer awfully feisty for-”
“No shut up dickwad, I had fucking dibs on that!” Tiff spat, crossing her arms over her chest, tits dangerously close to falling out of their top. Saul choked slightly as Otis released his grip on him and he slumped to the floor.
“Dibs?” He coughed.
“Shut up!” Otis and Tiff yelled at the same time, Tiff stomping on his balls for good measure.
“You think I put up with him for fun? Sorry you guys are impatient but I was playing the long fucking game and I was looking forward to that!” Tiff poked a finger into Otis’s chest, leaning over Saul to force her face close to his.
“Didn’t know this was a fucking playground, slut!” Otis spat, wafting his beer-stink breath into her face.
“Not my fault mommy never told you know. You’re not entitled to kill every annoying ass that passes your way,” Tiff grimaced at his smell.
“I’ll kill whoever I damn well please,” he grunted, shoving her back so he could bend down and yank the knife out of Saul. Saul screamed in agony, but was ignored. Just as Otis lunged for Tiff a strong hand clenched around his arm. He turned to see Tiny looming over him.
“Get the fuck off me!” He growled, shrugging him off.
“Be nice to your brother, Otis,” Mama scolded, moving to stand beside Tiff. Scowling, Otis paused his brandishing to look around. Clearly Tiny liked the newcomer and didn’t want him to hurt her, Mama too. Baby was looking at Tiff with a mix of excitement and intrigue in her expression while RJ eyed her with silent interest, still guarding the other door. Grandpa Hugo was still shoveling food into his mouth, eyes glued to the scene as if he were watching a movie. He snarled and crossed his arms.
“The fuck do you want me to do then?”
“Well,” said Mama, “I wanna know what this young lady was gonna do to this fella for one.” She gestured to Saul who was whimpering and clutching his oozing wound. Otis kicked him. Tiff laughed a little as Saul cried out in pain, then shrugged.
“It’s a little game I like to play…”
“I love games!” Baby clapped her hands eagerly. Tiff giggled a bit, a smiled at baby.
“Why don’t we discuss over desert, hm?”