What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [118]
“What the fuck?” said Liam.
Chapter 45. Lola and the Men Who Love Her
Liam and Festus goggled, gaped, and stared (Festus goggled and gaped; Liam stared) at a swarm of naked guys. There were at least fifty of them, huddling together in what appeared to be a free-love rugby scrum, less than twenty yards from the delivery entrance of the Driftwood Fellowship Church. Lola stood in the middle, a flash of red and purple and blonde in the middle of a whole lot of pale hairiness, looking very much as if she did not want to be there. A few groups of soldiers hovered around the edges of the throng, looking vaguely disgusted and mounting desultory forays into the naked horde, which the nude guys fended off with ease.
“What do we do?” asked Festus.
“Well,” said Liam, “I think we should…” He didn’t finish. Sometimes, when you’re staring at a hundred naked guys, and someone you know is stuck in the middle of the gymnosophic mob, it’s hard to engage in any kind of proactive decision making. It’s like when you realize that you somehow dropped your wedding ring into the commode, and that it’s now resting among some other things you dropped. You know, on some level, that you want to reach in there to get it back, but then, you really, really don’t want to do that at all. The resulting cognitive clash can be paralyzing.
Festus also seemed to be suffering from a mild case of rigor mortis as he regarded the naked horde. “Seriously, what is up with all of the friggin’ weirdos running around without clothes today? I have so exceeded my quota for witnessing flaccid dongs for like, the rest of my life. Seriously.”
“You prefer turgidity?” asked Liam, still staring straight ahead.
Festus grimaced.
They watched through the crowd as Lola turned in slow circles, her hands held out in front of her as she plead with the men who surrounded her. Through a fleeting gap in the Brownian throng, Liam saw that a bunch of the men toward the center of the group were either squatting or on their knees, bowing down and raising themselves up, their arms extended toward Lola.
“Are they … worshipping her?” he asked.
“Well, she is pretty hot,” said Festus.
“We need to get her out of there,” said Liam.
A horrified look came over Festus’ face. “What? How do we do that? We’d have to go in there.”
Liam nodded.
“Did it ever occur to you that she might want to be surrounded and worshipped by a bunch of naked guys?”
“No,” said Liam, tilting his head as if he were really pondering the question, “I don’t think she’d want that.” He marched into the horde, shoving and elbowing his way in as he headed toward Lola.
Festus didn’t move. Whether this was because he was not able to goggle and walk and let his jaw hang open at the same time is uncertain. Whatever the reason, he stood perfectly still as he watched Liam enter the mass of hairy, pale flesh.
Liam continued his march into the throng. “Um, hello,” he said to a particularly obstructive individual. “Please get out of the way.” The naked guy, however, appeared to be completely oblivious to Liam’s presence. Liam shoved the man and he fell awkwardly on top of another man. Dangly bits and bad places got together in NC-17 ways.
“Ooh, that’s not right,” said Festus, as he threaded his way through the crowd behind Liam.
“You know,” said Liam, “for an enlightened Son of God, you sure are homophobic.”
The Lola-worshippers seemed not to notice or care about Liam or Festus, even as they pushed and shoved their way toward her. Liam would shove or give a gentle kick to a naked guy, and the naked guy would just grunt and move out of the way.
“Look,” said Festus, stepping over a guy who, apparently overcome by the whole situation, was laying on the ground doing his best impression of frying bacon. “I like homos just as much as the next guy. I just don’t want to have any contact with another dude’s wang.”
“Fair enough.” Liam strong-armed another clothes-free individual. They finally reached Lola, who