In honor of National Badger Day, meet Chaos, just one of the colorful characters from my new novel, The Queen of Hawthorn Holler.
Jezebel always flaunted a full bush. Her seventh single to go platinum had been titled, “You Make My Honey Badger Growl.” At concerts, the Barbarian Love Slaves often wore stuffed badgers pinned to the crotches of their pants in homage. Fans were always sending needlepoints, sculptures, photos, and other crafts depicting the animal. Chaos, himself, had been an overzealous gift.
“It looks like a bowl of rainbow sherbet. Wanna’ see it?” She started to slide the onesie off.
“No,” Judd screamed. “I’ve seen you naked enough over these past six years.” Just when he thought he was immune to Jezebel’s impropriety, she’d say or do something that would make him want to hide his head in quicksand.
“Wonder if I should dye Chaos to match?”
On cue, the badger lurked out of the bathroom and flashed his fangs. He clawed his way onto the ten-person, dining table that dominated one side of the suite. A mountainous bowl of fruit restocked by the staff each morning sat dead center. It went untouched by Jezebel, but Judd and Chaos put a daily dent in it.
“Hey Buddy.” Judd reached in his direction. “Come, see me.”
Chaos, who’d opted to mangle a mango, met his request by snarling and spitting a mouthful of sticky, orange fruit in Judd’s direction.
“Don’t be a dick, dude. I brought you some beef jerky.” Judd fished a bag of Jack Link’s Original Hickory Smokehouse out of his pocket, opened it, and laid it on the floor at his feet. “Come on, badass, you know you want this more than that prissy fruit.”
Chao jumped down, waddled over, and pissed on Judd’s checkerboard Vans, then snatched the dried beef and burrowed under the couch.
the bourbonistA, Promoting Debauchery and stamping out political-correctness one blog at a time.