First a hard ball, Charlie horse hit Dean in his shoulder. That was because one of Sammy’s 9mm bullets from his Beretta 92FS that his little brother cleaned after every hunt, the most reliable and durable, accurate semi-automatic pistol preferred by police and the army, had slammed into him.


Next was the cheery red pain that came from being struck by lead traveling 1,700 mph. But this pain was delayed.  Not because Sammy was possessed and it was not his little brother’s fault he shot his big brother.  The main reason was Dean had tumbled into the ice water off a ramp, passed out and been dragged back to the roadhouse by Jo.  It was only when Jo began to dig the slug out of Dean’s shoulder with someone other than her polished nails that the cramping red hot hit.


The whiskey Dean was downing  out of a bottle he was squeezing purple did not stop his groans or bleeding, or pain, not even when Jo dropped the slug into a glass of clear alcohol.  As it was, nothing cut the pain or Dean’s foresight that Jo was a butcher.  To make matters worse the gauze and tape was not doing much to stop the hole in Dean from dripping red.


What could have plugged up the hole in Deans flesh?  A tampon.  The trouble was Dean did not think to ask Jo if she had an emergency spare in her purse.

Would the 6-9 grams of blood soaked up by a regular tampon work from the long drive to Bobby’s? Dean would never know.  He could have tried the supersize that held 15-19 grams of blood to see if it worked better.  So all the way to Bobby’s the hole had leaked blood.

There was one more problem Dean would have had to decided.  Should he have purchased cardboard or plastic applicators?  That was a problem John would not have had when he was a Marine plugging up bullet holes in Vietnam.  All the applicators were cardboard. Of course, both John and Dean could pull the plug out of either by the string.

Written By: Southeast……


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