Curly had smiled when he felt that good ole Suzie Q knew the drill, and was sorely disappointed when his dick was tugged like a rope, and then venomous when the knee followed. He dropped, that was for sure. He’d had plenty to time to get used to getting hit in the balls, but it still hurt, and the bitch drove them good. He’d closed his eyes to put the pain away in his little box. That sweet little box that stored all the shit he didn’t want or need. He was close to putting his memory of Suzie in that box as he brought himself to one knee and moved the submachine gun back into his hands with the safety off.<br/><br/>A sheen of sweat from the pain would be evident, but the gun never wavered. He’d already saw Larry turn the tables again, but he wanted, so very much, to wing her. Moe said earlier that they needed to walk, so he’d just take an arm. Would that be so bad? “Just let me have wing…I don’t know legs or thighs, and I want to save the breasts for later…I just want a fucking wing” he muttered. He knew, then and there, that no matter how much it freaked him out, he was going to watch this one in Larry’s hands. He’d tried to be a good guy, didn’t he? Tape off for a blowjob. A decent trade, right? “oh Suzie Q, you’ve made be blue, Suzie Q” he said as he finally stood. He’d safed the weapon again and let it drop back behind him. Knowing that she was going to get her just desserts in time was like a Christmas bonus, and he wasn’t ruining that.<br/>