When Joe came into work the next day, he screamed, "House in the Dining Room, General Fucking Meeting!!!" It was still the early days of Elan and Joe had thought about various LE's for Marty.
After literally throwing Marty in front of the house, Joe said, "Marty, I'm at a loss. I could make you wear a rubber dick costume, but you'd enjoy it too much. I could pour electric sauce on you, but you practically live in a trash heap anyway. I could even make you eat poop, but that would be too nice.
"But I've never caught you being gamey or even talking to women, so I thought for once that I'd really torture your sorry Injun ass. So here it is, Marty: Your Indian squaw costume. Chief, put this on Kruglik!"
Marty screamed like a scalped prairie dog. After all, he hated women. It came from a Freudian desire to fuck his mother in a moose costume as a boy. Growing up, Marty had been rejected by every woman he'd ever hit on, especially a young Sharon Terry, who lived in the building next to his squirrel-fucking child molestation tepee in the slums of Chicago.
For weeks, Marty was humiliated in a squaw costume. He couldn't call himself "Big Chief" anymore or even Tonto, as he wore only one feather and pigtails. For days, he would relate to his peers on the floor, "Me suh so sad, me suh humiliated. Me would never try to fuck buffalo looking like this."
And then a strange thing happened slowly. Marty began to like the costume. And this was the beginning of Mary Kruglik.
TO BE CONTINUED
