Different Seasons - Stephen King [178]
The whole fence made a low, musical sound as the chain-link was not just driven back against the posts but sort of stretched back. It was like a zither note -yimmmmmmm. A strangled yawp came out of Chopper's mouth, both eyes came up blank, and he did a totally amazing reverse snap-roll, landing on his back with a solid thump that sent dust puffing up around him. He just lay there for a moment and then he crawled off with his tongue hanging crookedly from the left side of his mouth.
At this, Milo himself went almost berserk with rage. His complexion darkened to a scary plum colour-even his scalp was purple under the short hedgehog bristles of his flattop haircut. Sitting stunned in the dirt, both knees of my jeans torn out, my heart still thudding from the nearness of my escape, I thought that Milo looked like a human version of Chopper.
'I know you!' Milo raved. 'You're Teddy Duchamp! I know all of you! Sonny, I'll beat your ass, teasing my dawg like that!'
'Like to see you try!' Teddy raved right back. 'Let's see you climb over this fence and get me, fatass!'
'WHAT? WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?'
'FAT-ASS!' Teddy screamed happily. 'LARD-BUCKET! TUBBAGUTS! COME ON! COME 0N!' He was jumping up and down, fists clenched, sweat flying
from his hair. 'TEACH YOU TO SIC YOUR STUPID DOG ON PEOPLE! COME ON! LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!'
'You little tin-weasel pecker wood loony's son! I'll see your mother gets an invitation to go down and talk to the judge in court about what you done to my dawg!'
'What did you call me?' Teddy asked hoarsely. He had stopped jumping up and down. His eyes had gone huge and glassy, and his skin was the colour of lead.
Milo had called Teddy a lot of things, but he was able to go back and get the one that had struck home with no trouble at all-since then I have noticed again and again what a genius people have for that for finding the LOONY button down side and not just pressing it but hammering on the fucker.
'Your dad was a loony,' he said, grinning. 'Loony up in Togus, that's what. Crazier'n a shithouse rat. Crazier'n a buck with tickwood fever. Nuttier'n a long-tailed cat in a room fulla rockin' chairs. Loony. No wonder you're actin' the way you are, with a loony for a f-'
'YOUR MOTHER BLOWS DEAD RATS!' Teddy screamed. 'AND IF YOU CALL MY DAD A LOONY AGAIN, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU COCKSUCKER!'
'Loony,' Milo said smugly. He'd found the button, all right. 'Loony's kid, loony's kid, your father's got toys in the attic, kid, tough break.'
Vern and Chris had been getting over their laughing fit, perhaps getting ready to appreciate the seriousness of the situation and call Teddy off, but when Teddy told Milo that his mother blew dead rats, they went back into hysterics again, lying there on the bank, rolling from side to side, their feet kicking, holding their bellies. 'No more,' Chris said weakly. 'No more, please, no more, I swear to God I'm gonna bust!'
Chopper was walking around in a large, dazed figure-eight behind Milo. He looked like the losing fighter about ten seconds after the ref has ended the match and awarded the winner a TKO. Meanwhile, Teddy and Milo continued their discussion of Teddy's father, standing nose to nose, with the wire fence Milo was too old and too fat to climb between them.
'Don't you say nothing else about my dad! My dad stormed the beaches at Normandy, you fucking wet end!'
'Yeah, well, where is he now, you ugly little four-eyed turd? He's up to Togus, ain't he? He's up to Togus because HE WENT FUCKING SECTION EIGHT!'
'Okay, that's it,' Teddy said. 'That's it, that's the end, I'm gonna kill you.' He threw himself at the fence and started up.