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Killer Kills the Coopers in Middle America

Killer Kills the Coopers in Middle America

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Published by Joshua Allen
My first novel (written in 2005 and buried) come to light. It's been gathering dust, figured I'd air it out. At the time of writing, I had never heard of a comic book series called Wanted, and this "killer" has nothing to do with that one. For more info on my work, visit http://joshuallen.blogspot.com. I welcome any constructive comments as well. This is a rough draft, so bear with me. Fair warning: contains graphic sex, homosexual encounters, murder, drug use, and anything else I could think over the mad 4 days I wrote it.
My first novel (written in 2005 and buried) come to light. It's been gathering dust, figured I'd air it out. At the time of writing, I had never heard of a comic book series called Wanted, and this "killer" has nothing to do with that one. For more info on my work, visit http://joshuallen.blogspot.com. I welcome any constructive comments as well. This is a rough draft, so bear with me. Fair warning: contains graphic sex, homosexual encounters, murder, drug use, and anything else I could think over the mad 4 days I wrote it.

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Published by: Joshua Allen on Jun 18, 2009
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved

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09/30/2012

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The Killer Kills the Coopers in Middle America
by Joshua Allen ©2005
1. The Coopers
He was no fan of unlined pictures. She couldn't fathom anybut the most rudimentary of non-geometric shapes. Yet, somehow,their love survived, as it must between those encased in bordersand without imagination. Their friends would joke and they wouldlaugh in unison and give each other the sly look that only thosewho never get the joke understand. In love-making they were asmissionary-minded as Billy Graham. They filled their minds withno pictures handed down from ancient India, nor did they delightin even the simplest of perversions. Never would he sit up andcup her ass for a deeper thrust or to pinch her nipples. Neverwould she give his left butt cheek the slightest of squeezes.Their bedroom contained no dildoes, no vibrators, no lubricants--water-based or otherwise--no dirty magazines, no books oferotic fiction, no lacy lingerie, and no condoms. Their foreplayinvolved no felatio, no cunnilinguis, no kisses with tongue, noteven any breast squeezing. He felt her breasts--more so afterthe first baby--under him like a man feels his pillow: it was
 
there and necessary, but not even slightly erotic. She felt hisweight and his penis inside her with the same enthusiasm as onewho feels a tomato in the refrigerator that one is mostlycertain must have gone rotten by now.Their children, a boy and a girl, were B students and, ifasked years later, no teacher would even be able to recall theirnames. So sure were their mediocre/good performances that oftentheir teachers didn't even bother to read their homework ortests, but would just put "B" on the top and be done with it.Their peers in class, if asked by FBI agents during an abductioninvestigation for descriptions of either child, would have saidthat the kids smelled vaguely of Ivory soap. The children neverfailed and never succeeded. They never cheated and they nevertold beautiful stories of dragons and knights and cucumberfairies with wishes of Prince Pickles. They both always sat inthe middle of the classroom and answered questions with adequateresponses on the rare occasions the teachers would remember tocall on them. In art class, both produced the sorts of worksthat the art teacher establishes in his mind as the standardvariety acceptable at the level the kids were. Somehow thechildren were just what each teacher would expect of kids thatage, nothing less and nothing more. The children were exactlygood enough to be of no interest to anyone.
 
Their dog, a neutered female who was androgynous in a wayonly dogs can be, was of the mixed variety. It was one of thosedogs you see that you think may be a Labrador unless you look atit long enough. Then you think it might be a Spaniel or a Beaglewith no spots or a short-haired yellow Chow, or a largerterrier. The dog only barked when the mailman came by. It issuedone short, full yap and then resumed sitting next to theBarcalounger, chewing pointlessly on a raw-hide bone, the kindyou see in every store that sells anything even remotely relatedto dogs. The dog didn't pee on the carpet, nor did it fetch. Itdid exactly enough not to be considered a bad dog, but nothingto be considered a particularly good dog.They had hamsters: two of them in two separate, identical-except-in-color cages, a male and a female. The hamsters ran intheir wheel until the squeaking just became noticeable, thenthey stopped and chewed on little yellow wooden sticks-the kindyou see at any story that sells anything remotely related tohamsters. Their cages were cleaned regularly enough not to be abother--they never stank, nor did they ever retain that smell offresh Cedar. They were, in fact, so unobtrusive that the kidsand the parents only remembered to feed and water the hamstersenough to keep them a notch above the "barely alive" level, aswas true for most hamster owners. The hamsters were nothing that

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