Night of the Junkies: Meet the Girls

“You still up here?” Rita said. “Babe, you’re a roller machine.”

Rita held a cigarette. She only smoked when something was up. In her chaotic life, she had a pack a week habit, down from a pack a day. She was clad in her normal attire of boy shorts and a low cut top to show off her midriff.

A Latino goddess, her body was thick, strong, and hinted at sex like a neon “Live Naked Lady” billboard on a dark stretch of highway. Jessica looked back from the ledge. She let her thoughts of Rosies past slip away and joined conversations with Rosies present.

“There is only one way to get a star on your helmet.” Jessica said.

Jessica wanted nothing more than a star on her helmet. In the House of the Derby, the Jammer wears the white star and is queen of the elevated track. Like head cock in a pack of frat boys, the Jammer was the only one to score. The fate of the whole team rested upon a her shoulders and she better to preform under the stress.

The Jammers object is to race the other team’s Jammer around the track. Each Jammer must make it through a pack of rolling brawlers. On the second lap, every opposing player that the Jammer passes is a point on the glowing score card in the sky.

The Jammer who has the lead has control of the game. Only she can score and stop the bout with two hands on her hips. Power, control, and Polyurethane, what more did a girl need?

“Not much” Jessica said.
“What?” Rita said.
“Didn’t you ask what I was doing?”
“No, I didn’t say a thing.”
“I thought it was apparent.”
“Chola, I didn’t ask you shit. I was sent up here.“
“What’s up?”

“You know it’s not that easy.” Rita said. “What year did the Rosies beat the crap out of that scum bag, Lester?”
“Come on, Rita. If you are going to put me through this shit, ask me a tough one.”
“Answer the question, Chola.”
“1948.”
“Good, show me your piece.”

…German As An Arian Propaganda Poster…

Every Riveter was required by House Law to carry a swiss army knife on themselves at all times. The knifes are given at training and were a bright yellow color adorned with a rhinestone attached to the center.

Jessica pulled out her Riveter army knife from her panty line and handed it to Rita for inspection. Rita gave the knife a quick look, didn’t even inspect it, and handed it back to Jessica.

“Hot Carla wants you showered and suited.” Rosie said.

Hot Carla was the current leader of the Riveters. Her reign handed down from the generations of Riveters before her. She was a huge wall of a woman, German as an Arian propaganda poster. She towered over the other girls at 6 foot 5 inches.

Her body was designed with a strait edge and offered androgynous, linear features. She reigned over the girls with tough love and was more a father figure than most of the girls knew. She was a hard rock to budge but moved where she needed to be. Orders from her were to be followed to a T.

Jessica left Rita up on the roof to finish her cigarette. She changed in the dark locker room and made sure to keep the lights off. The rumor around the Rink was Lou had installed surveillance cameras in the Girls locker room and she wouldn’t put it past the slime ball.

She pictured his round, body in the DJ booth with his hands below the record players and his ugly mug straining. The cold, empty locker room gave her a strange ethereal feeling of eyes on her. She put the thoughts of underground cinema out of her head and pondered Hot Carla’s plan.

There was always a Rookie mission. Milk and beer runs to the McGillie’s corner store, block party scavenger hunts, or some other harebrained scheme. Jessica was near the end of her “Hell Week”, the last week before she became a full Riveter and she was relived

The Rosies had put her through a hazing period filled with odd tasks for her to accomplish. Wherever the pack rolled, each of the members had a brain full of fun and slightly embarrassing task for Jessica to accomplish.

…The Bitch Hit Me In The Tit…

Lost in her thoughts of service and humiliation, stripped down to her lacy undergarments, she didn’t notice the predators behind her until the bag was pulled over her head.

Jessica had dismissed the sounds as distortions in the darkness but the coarse hemp bag proved reality to nonfictional sounds. She was pushed against the metal lockers with a clang. A flock of hands descended upon her naked body.

She was never one to go softly into the dark night and fought against her captors. Her limbs lashed out and struck soft flesh.

“Jesus, fuck….”

A quick jab slammed against her stomach and she could hear a harder hit take place among her attackers.

”Ouch, Carla. The bitch hit me in the tit.”

“Chill out, Rita.” Hot Carla’s German accent came through her whisper.

“Sorry, Baby.” Rita said.

Jessica couldn’t feel Rita’s hot, sweet breath but her lips pressed against Jessica’s ear. Jessica gave up her fight and fell into submission. The initial shock had worn off, she felt secure in their unseen hands. Her assailants were the members of her future squad and they held her best interest.

She sniffed their sweet scent and feel their smooth skin. She feel into them and felt soft hemp rope bind her limps. Suspended by a tight constriction, she realized she had been placed in big navy duffel bag and heard the zipper seal shut. In the distance, a vehicle started and she felt the cool metal floor through the bag.

The light vibration shook her body and rocked back and forth. In complete darkness, she had no perception of time. Her only indication came with a stop and 4 foot drop onto pavement. The underlining of the bag had two body pillows but the shock jarred her body.

“Hello citizens of Skid Row. Come and get some fresh meat before the cops pick it up. It’sssss Supper Time!”

It wasn’t the last thing she heard but it was a little scarier than the squeal of the tires as the van pulled away.

Roller Revolt Map

Join us next time for “Meet The Junkies”
Or last time for “Meet The Jessica
Or check “Roller Revolt: Table of Contents“.