Mayhem In Chicago, Part One: Melissa Moves To Chi-Town
By CrashCorrigan
Featuring characters created by toe2hoes (aka indianman) in
Big Jo vs. The Bitch Parts 1, 2 and 3
I was walking home with my sister Katie on a late spring day in Chicago, Illinois. We’d just got back from classes at Lane Tech College Prep High School. Katie was a freshman, about 5 feet 4 inches tall; tanned, blonde, blue-eyed and slender with high, small breasts. Her hair was long and gently curled, and most of the guys I knew thought she was very pretty, especially her boyfriend, a junior on the football team. To me she was just a skinny, annoying runt, maybe 105 pounds soaking wet, but she had a ton of attitude and a really strong right hand. I’d once seen her deck a high school senior when she was only in 7th grade. The girl didn’t want any part of Katie after that, and whenever she took off after me – her big brother – I generally got my ass in gear and ran off rather than fight with her.
Katie tended to dress a bit provocatively, as she did today, wearing sandals, cutoff jeans to show off her slender legs, and a tight, midriff-baring crop top with “2 Hot For U” written across her chest. She walked with an aggressive hip-sway and chewed gum, occasionally popping a bubble. Despite appearances, she was an excellent student already aiming for an Ivy League school, and unless you pissed her off, she was really very nice and charming.
We lived on a street named Monitor. On our side of the street were brick two-flat apartment buildings, and on the other side the brick bungalow homes characteristic of many Chicago neighborhoods. All the buildings were separated by narrow concrete paths leading to the back yards and the alley. Lawns fronted the buildings on both sides of the street, and big maples and elms joined branches above the asphalt. Little kids rode tricycles down the sidewalk, and Mrs. Kekish, the pretty red haired Ukrainian lady sunning herself in her front lawn, waved at us as we walked by. Mrs. Kekish was 45, and she looked great in her one-piece swimsuit. She always insisted that I call her Zoya. Her daughter Tosca was my age, and really built. I smiled and waved back, thinking how I’d like to spend some time with both of them.
As we neared our building, Katie pointed ahead. “Looks like we got some new neighbors.”
I saw a moving van pulling away from the building next to ours. There was a mess of furniture and a few boxes in the front yard, but mostly I noticed three blond girls. They all seemed pretty, all wearing short skirts and tight tops. The tallest girl, about 5-feet, 8 inches and somewhat busty, looked to be a young woman of college age, while the other two were about my age – I was a junior -- and roughly Katie’s height and weight.
As we came closer, the girls looked at us, and there was a mocking, unfriendly quality in their gaze, as if they were thinking of some trick to pull on us. And there was something else, an almost indefinable trashiness that seemed to radiate from them. Just the same, I decided to offer greetings
“Hello, we live right next door,” I said.
The younger girls tittered while the oldest frowned. “We were hoping for better than you lot,” she said, in a British accent.
I flushed. I didn’t know what to say. This girl was pretty, and older than me. I was tongue-tied. I knew I had been insulted, but I was confused about the insult.
Next to me, Katie popped a bubble with a loud crack!
The tall girl glanced at her, then focused back on me. “What’s your name?”
“Kerry,” I said. “Kerry Corrigan. I’m pleased to meet you.”
The tall girl started laughing and so did the others. “Kerry?” she said. “A girly name for a girly boy. Does your mum still tuck you in at night?” They all laughed louder. I became angry and started to sweat, wishing I was a girl so I could smack them.
Katie popped another bubble.
The tall girl looked at Katie. “And what’s your name?”
“Katie,” my sister said with a snap. “Katie Corrigan.”
“Oh, how cute,” said one of the other girls, as they came closer. “They have rhyming names!”
The tall girl asked, “Do you all have rhyming names?”
For some silly reason I said, “That’s alliteration, not rhyming. It’s a family tradition.”
The girls almost collapsed in laughter. The tall one looked at me in disgusted confusion and said, “Alliteration, is it? What kind of poxy little ladyboy are you, anyway?” Then she turned to the other girls and said, “What else would you expect from a family of spud-thick micks?”
All at once, the air seemed charged with electricity. Katie popped another bubble, then spat her gum at the English girl. It bounced off the girl’s chest.
“You stupid bitch!” the English girl said.
Katie got right up in her face and the girls stood chest to chest – Katie’s small boobs pressed against the English woman’s larger ones. Katie stared up at the English woman, who glared down at her. I was amazed by Katie’s calm and control. I knew her well enough to realize that she was in hair-trigger fight mode, but she didn’t show a trace of fear towards her taller, older opponent.
“Listen, bitch,” Katie said. “We’re not ‘micks,’ we’re Irish, and you better not call us micks again.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll lay your ass out,” Katie snarled.
The English girl laughed. She seemed to be in disbelief at Katie’s threat. “You silly nit,” she said. “You’re a midget. I’ll thrash you.”
“You get ‘er, Lori,” said one of the other girls. “Sort ‘er out.”
Katie kept staring into Lori’s eyes. Then she moved up tighter against her. All of a sudden Lori looked less confident. She backed up a step.
Katie sneered. “Just like I thought, you ain’t shit.”
Lori seemed paralyzed by indecision. She had obviously thought that a smaller, younger girl like Katie would just back down. Now Lori was backing down, and that obviously troubled her.
“Eh, you ain’t worth it,” Lori said.
Katie snorted. “Chickenshit.”
Lori looked at the other girls. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” She started to walk away.
Katie turned to me and grinned. “I shut them up, now didn’t I?”
From the corner of my eye I saw Lori turn back towards Katie, face twisted in rage as she lifted her right fist.
“Katie, look out!” I yelled.
Katie began to turn, instinctively ducking from the blow she knew was coming. Lori’s cheap sucker punch glanced off the top of Katie’s head instead of crashing into her jaw, and the bigger girl let out a whoosh of air as Katie slammed her shoulder into Lori’s gut. Lori clawed at Katie’s back, but my sister grabbed her around the stomach and lifted her partly off the ground as she pushed forward, slamming Lori into a chest of drawers left on the lawn. The two girls almost knocked it over from the impact, but the drawers saved Lori from landing flat on her back with my sister on top.
The other two English girls moved towards the fighters, and it looked to me like they planned to jump Katie. I ran between them and my sister and said, “No jump-ins! This is a fair fight.” They backed off, glaring at me, almost hissing like little harpies.
The fighting girls bounced away from the drawers, yanking each others hair. Katie tried to land her right but the two bare bellied beauties were too close, body pressed against body, each trying to get a bare leg behind the other to trip her as they yanked savagely at each other’s hair, whipping their heads around.
A young boy bicycling down the street saw the action, slowed and turned back, shouting at his friends down the street, “Katie Corrigan’s fighting again! Hurry up!”
I heard the call taken up down the next block, and more faintly down the block after that. Several young boys and girls either pedaled up or ran towards the battle. Mrs. Kekish began walking up in her swimsuit and sandals. A crowd formed. Katie had many fans and the kids shouted, “C’mon, Katie, kick her ass!”
The two fighters were grunting and growling at each other. Katie’s wiry muscles were taut, her biceps popping out as she struggled to gain the advantage. Her eyes were like flame as she bared her teeth and snarled. Lori seemed to be in panic as she gave ground to the young teenager. My chest warmed as I watched my sister taking over, and for some reason, in this fight, of all her fights, I could see how sexy my sister was, how her legs were slender yet shapely, her ass tight and rounded, her belly sleek, her face beautiful, even though it was now contorted in rage. It was exciting to see the contrast between my tanned sister and the pale, almost pasty English girl.
“She’s getting ‘er, she’s getting ‘er!” a girl in the crowd shouted. Another girl leaped and twirled in excitement and said, “I ain’t never seen fighting like this before!” and three boys in T-shirts and dusty pants pantomimed boxing moves as they said, “C’mon, Katie, you got ‘er, you got ‘er!”
The younger English girls were wailing, “Give ‘er a thrashing, Lori! Knock her down!”
The fighters approached a sofa. Lori was trying to wrench herself away from the teenage demon, but this only opened enough space for Katie to uncork her right.
One of the T-shirt boys flung his head back and shouted, “Dayum!” as Katie’s fist landed with a hollow crack on Lori’s jaw. The young English woman staggered back into the sofa, was upended, and went flying head first over the back and into the ground on the other side. Katie was on her like a leopard pouncing on a gazelle, straddling Lori, pinning her arms beneath her knees before unleashing a series of punches to Lori’s face. The English woman writhed and bucked and flung her head side to side, but none of it helped.
“You wanna give?” Katie asked, holding back a punch.
“Fuck you!” Lori screamed.
Katie punched her again.
By now Lori’s nose was bleeding. I saw her gaze frantically at a cane with a skull tip lying a few feet away from her. She strained to reach it. Katie saw what was happening, and as Lori’s desperate fingers brushed against the stick, Katie leaned over, grabbed it, and snatched it away. She held it up in front of Lori and said, “What did you think you were gonna do with this, jam it in my gut?”
Lori only sniffled in return. Katie tossed the cane away.
Now she leaned over Lori. “You better quit now. You better give up before I really hurt you.”
Lori sucked in labored breaths and snapped, “Fuck you, you ruddy little cxnt.”
Katie started punching Lori again. Smack! Smack! Smack! Lori’s head bounced from each impact. The other English girls were in distress. “Lori,” said the youngest-looking one. “Please, Lori, get up and kill the snarky little bitch.”
I was beginning to get a little sick to my stomach. I’d seen my sister in a lot of fights, taking down this or that bully, but this was the worst. Lori’s face was turning into a bloody mess, and she was completely helpless. Her struggles were becoming feeble, her hands barely moved. She just kept taking it. Then, suddenly, there was this high, horrible sound.
Lori was crying.
Katie sat back, looking triumphant. “Are you gonna quit? Huh? You gonna quit?”
Lori kept crying. “No.”
Katie punched her again, then twice more making Lori’s mouth all bloody.
“Stop!”
Katie nodded and leaned back. “Okay,” she said. “It’s done.”
Lori continued crying, big hard sobs that shook her chest. Here she was, a woman pounded into a ruin by a girl barely out of elementary school. This was undoubtedly the worst beating of her life. I almost forgot all the bad things she’d said to me and what a total bitch she’d been just minutes before. I walked forward to help her up.
Suddenly, a pale blur flew past me and I heard Katie scream. I looked and saw a slender woman with stringy blond hair, roughly the size of Katie, seemingly in her early 30s, standing behind my sister, grabbing her hair and pulling her backwards off of Lori while she reached over and clawed at Katie’s face.
The English girls jumped up and down and yelled, “Do ‘er, Melissa. Beat the bloody bitch down!”
I yelled, “No jump-ins!” and began a leap towards the new threat, when suddenly it seemed like a cannon ball smashed into my gut. The world turned black for a second, shot through with red sparks, and just as things began to clear another fist smashed into my cheek, knocking me to the ground.
I rolled over, feeling sick and dazed, and looked up to see a dark-haired bruiser standing above me, pointing down and saying, “Steady there, lad. This is between your girl and Mel.”
“That’s my sister,” I said, writhing.
The bruiser said, “Shut up!" and kicked me in the gut. “You just keep your mouth shut and stay down, you bloody tosser!”
I couldn’t get up. The best I could do was roll over to get a better view of the fight.
The woman attacking Katie was, I hate to admit, attractive to me in some odd way. There was something about her that just shouted trailer trash, but she also possessed a carnal vitality. As Katie whirled to rise and face her, I couldn’t help noticing how similar their builds were, despite the big age difference. Height almost identical, both small-breasted, and Melissa’s miniskirt showed slim, wiry legs with a sexy shape, although they seemed more spindly than Katie’s.
Katie had almost risen when Melissa tugged on her hair while backpedaling. Katie tripped forward and fell on her face in the grass. Melissa had a death-grip on Katie’s hair and tugged sharply, pulling Katie face-down across the lawn.
“You bitch!” yelled Katie.
Melissa dug in her heels and kept pulling back, dragging Katie across the yard, then snapping Katie’s hair left and right so hard that my sister squealed. Melissa had a cruel, vacuous smile. Her eyes were almost blank.
She began kicking Katie in the face, occasionally landing a decent shot past Katie’s guard, making Katie yelp.
It looked like Katie was finished, but then she did something remarkable. Through sheer strength and determination, she grabbed Melissa’s wrists, curled her legs beneath her belly, and using Melissa’s own body for leverage, she rose up. Still clinging to Melissa’s wrists, and with her forearm muscles popping out, she began to drag Melissa towards her.
Melissa made strange, whimpering noises as she fought to escape Katie’s iron grip, first letting go of Katie’s hair and yanking backwards like crazy. Katie didn’t let go.
Melissa kicked at Katie’s legs with her pointy shoes and managed to dig a shot into Katie’s shin. My sister cried out, and this eased the pressure just enough for Melissa to break free. The woman backed off to a safe distance.
Katie put her fists up and approached Melissa. “I’ll beat all you bitches if I have to,” she said.
Melissa didn’t say anything, she just kept backing away, looking at the ground quickly, then back up to Katie.
“What’s the matter?” Katie asked. “Scared of a high school kid?”
Melissa ducked down, grabbed a ball off the lawn, rose, and threw it at Katie as hard as she could. It turned out to be a wooden croquet ball and it landed on Katie’s left forearm with a loud smack!
“Shit!” Katie yelled. It had clearly hit near the bone and she was in terrible pain, wincing and grabbing her arm.
Melissa raced in, but that was a mistake, because Katie timed her and landed a laser right on her chin. Melissa’s eyes rolled up as the punch stopped her dead in her tracks, and she wobbled like a drunken clown, her legs going in different directions, her knees almost hitting the grass. Katie tried to finish her with an instinctive left hook, but the injury to her arm made it fall short. Melissa was so badly staggered that I knew just one or two good shots would knock her out.
Melissa began to recover as she moved away. Katie came forward and missed with a right. Melissa turned away and wheeled her arms around for balance, her back to Katie. Katie slipped on something in the grass, fell forward, and her nose smacked into Melissa’s elbow.
“Oh, shit!” Katie screamed, bending over and grabbing her face with both hands.
I saw blood trickle between Katie’s fingers.
Melissa, clearing the cobwebs, turned and saw Katie’s bloody face as my sister pulled her hands away from her nose. A glint came into Melissa’s eyes. She wobbled over towards Katie and landed a straight right square on her nose. Blood spurted and Katie wailed. Melissa threw a left and another right into Katie’s face. All of a sudden my sister seemed helpless. Melissa’s eyes gleamed and she grunted like a wild animal as she closed in and threw punch after punch.
“Get ‘er back, Katie!” I shouted as I tried to rise. Foolishly, I paid no attention to the bruiser who’d knocked me down. He landed another savage kick to my gut that almost lifted me off the lawn. I fell back to the ground and couldn’t even muster the strength to speak.
“I told you to shut up!” he bellowed. “Now stay down or it’ll go hard on ya.”
The crowd was yelling encouragement to Katie. She was the neighborhood hero. No one could remember her losing a fight. But she bent over and covered up as Melissa grew stronger with every punch she threw, landing on the face, the arms, the gut, screaming like a wild animal. Melissa’s face lit up with a weird happiness and fury all at once. Her smile became ugly as she dug her punches in harder and harder. There was one on the mouth, and another in the liver that made her groan. And another and another.
“Take that, you stupid little tarty bitch!” Melissa yelled. “Thought you could take down a woman, you ugly baby-slut? Take that, you bitch!”
With Katie bent over, Melissa began dipping down and throwing punches up into Katie’s face. I watched my sister’s head bounce up again and again. The crowd watched in disbelief. The girl who’d earlier leaped into the air and said she’d never seen fighting like this began bawling, “Please, Katie, please . . . “
I couldn’t imagine what held my sister up as she absorbed blow after blow. Maybe it was sheer pride. Maybe because she’d never learned how to lose.
Katie at last straightened up and started throwing punches back, but they seemed to land without force. Melissa walked right through them, launching punches and kicks in rapid succession, knocking my sister’s head from one side to another. Katie gave ground under Melissa’s relentless onslaught.
Lori and the the other two girls were leaping and shouting encouragement, uttering the most foul-mouthed obscene suggestions I’d ever heard about what Melissa should do to Katie.
Melissa turned and giggled at the crowd before grabbing Katie’s hair, yanking her head down, and driving a knee into her face. Katie staggered, but didn’t go down. Melissa kneed her again, and again, and again. The sounds were horrible, hollow thuds. Thud, thud, thud. Again and again. Thud, thud, thud.
Katie grabbed at Melissa’s hair and yanked her down, and suddenly the fighters were on the ground, bare, sexy legs locked as they rolled across the grass. I thought my sister might have a chance now, but a cut near her right eye started dribbling blood, and when Melissa saw that she went ballistic, shrieking like a banshee as she got on top, grabbed Katie’s hair with both hands and started pounding my sister’s head into the ground. Thump, thump, thump it went. My sister made little panicked sounds. Thump, thump, thump.
Somehow, Katie broke free and rose, blood dripping down her face, her forehead and cheeks beginning to swell, her legs shaky. And for the first time in my life, I saw Katie trying to run away from a fight!
Melissa would have none of it. She got up and shrieked, “Get back here, you sodding little slut! You cheap fucking tart!”
Katie heard Melissa running after her as Melissa’s horrid cheering section egged her on to do unspeakable things to my sister. Katie turned around, still backing away as fast as she could, but Melissa was on her like a wolverine, a blur of fists and insane shrieking. I’d never heard anything so bloodcurdling in my life.
Katie cowered and tried to cover up as Melissa found a higher gear and rained punches down on her face and shoulders and kicked at her legs. I saw Katie peering at Melissa through her fingers with an expression of raw terror, the kind of terror you get when you realize you’ve just encountered the wrong person, and you wonder if you’re going to get out alive.
