Straight stood in line to the cabana, with a couple of empty glasses in his hands. The sand felt good between his toes. Especially after being trapped in that APE suite for the past six months. He looked around at the bikini-clad girls that were everywhere. If he thought the sand felt good, he was pretty sure a little skin on skin contact would feel amazing. Down, boy. He thought to himself. Don’t be getting too excited while wearing these shorts and standing behind another man in a line. An image of Dago popped into his mind. Nope, that did it. Erection diverted.

Why was it every time he thought about sex, Dago popped into his mind? He gave a little shiver. He was going to need therapy.

“All right, what can I get you?” The bartender smiled, not looking at him. It was the beach resort, equivalent to what the fuck do you want?

Straight looked up. It was his turn. The bartender was reaching under the bar, putting a couple of bottles away. “Two daiquiris, please.”

He wasn’t sure what it was, but ever since Mulligan had brought them up, they were the only thing he could think about, and the first thing he had ordered after getting out of his suite.

The bartender looked up at him. “Holy shit, are you okay? Do you need some sun screen or maybe a fucking doctor, brah?”

“No, I’m okay. Just the daiquiris, please,” replied Straight with the calm demeanor that said he’d been through this before.

“You are not okay. You look like burnt toast, brah.”

“I’m black.”

“No shit, you’re black. You’ve got third-degree burns all over your body.”

“No, you fu-.” He started to call to call the guy a fucking idiot but composed himself. “I was born this way.”

A girl sitting at the bar reached out and touched his arm. “You poor dear…” after realizing she had touched him, she pulled back as if the contact had shocked her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Does it hurt if I touch you?”

He took her hand and gently placed it back on his arm. “No, it doesn’t hurt. If anything, it makes it feel better.” Down boy. Maybe he could make this work for him. He wondered if he was the first black guy to use being black to get laid? God, it sounded like something Dago would do. Well, there goes that erection. Two erections killed in the same amount of minutes. He grabbed a couple swizzle sticks off the bar. Damn it, he would splint his dick up if he had to. Jesus Christ, where did that come from? He’d been hanging around with Dago far too much.

“You don’t happen to be a psychologist, do you?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“A therapist?”

She shook her head again.

“I’d even settle for a hypnotist.”

She shook her head one last time, “Sorry.”

Straight turned back to the bartender. “I guess just the Daiquiris,” he said with a sigh.

The bartender flicked his hair as as he handed Straight the drinks, causing one of his nasty dreads to land in the beverage on the right. That one was Dago’s, he thought as he slapped a twenty on the bar and dragged the drinks free from the dread’s unquenchable thirst.

On the way back, he felt the burning stares of other people. He would have looked to confirm his suspensions, but with the alcohol he already had on board, it was taking all of his focus to keep from sloshing the drinks, and most important keeping track of which one was Dago’s. He knew as soon as he took his eyes off them, they would switch hands, and he was having none of that. He looked up to find their spot on the beach, keeping the drinks in his peripheral.

He spotted him. It took a second, but there he was laying in the sand playing with a passing dog. Nope, that wasn’t a dog. It was a brunette chick dressed up as a doberman. Well, Straight thought she might have been a Rottweiler, but as she was skinny and not built like a cement truck, he was going with a doberman. And it wasn’t so much that she was playing with Dago as she was positioning herself on top of him. What the hell was the guy doing with the leash, just watching? Straight continued to close the distance to Dago. The gravitational pull of the event was unescapable. Then, as if on command, she started peeing on Dago’s chest.

“Fucking Christ Dago!”

Straight’s expletive did nothing to halt the golden flow, but it did grab Dago’s attention, who looked up and made eye contact with Straight before giving him the thumbs up.

There was not enough therapy in the world to get this image out of his head. The only thing that was going to erase this was hard liqueur and a bullet to the brain.

* * *

The dober-mistress, Straight, had no clue what to fucking call her. She finished her business and continued walking on down the beach. Well, walking wasn’t quite the right word. Crawling? Fuck it. She continued down the beach on all fours with her gimp eunuch in tow.

“What in the ever loving fuck, Dago?”

Dago hopped up, the golden liquid cascading off his chest. “Sweet, thanks for getting the drinks.” He reached out.

Straight looked down. Which one was Dago’s? He shoved both of them at him. “Here, have both. I think I need something a bit stronger, anyway.

Dago graciously accepted both drinks. “Thanks, man.”

Straight shrugged him off. “Do you know where I can buy a gun around here?”

Dago answered with the straw from the daiquiri shoved in his mouth. “Guns are illegal on this planet, so you should be able to buy them anywhere. Did you ask the bartender? He sold me some Spanish fly earlier, so I’m pretty sure he has a couple of guns. Why the hell you want one?”

“Why the hell were you letting some chick piss on your chest? Are you trying to get your dumb ass arrested?”

“I’m not going to get arrested. There is nothing illegal about having a dog pee on you.”

“That was a chick.”

“That chick identifies as a Manchester Terrier. If a Cocker Spaniel came up and pissed on your leg, would you be worried about getting arrested?

So many questions were going through Straight’s mind. Would Dago have a real dog piss on him? Where did he find this chick? Was she just walking down the beach, or did he have to make a call?

“I thought you didn’t want a repeat of Ostilia?”

“This is nothing like Ostilia,” Dago assured.

“You had a chick who was dressed up as a dog take a dump on your chest.”

“Yea, and there was a lot more that went along with that. I learned my lesson on that shit, and I ain’t doing it again. Besides, that chick was a Norwegian Elkhound. This one was a completely different breed. I know it’s hard for someone whose vanilla like you to understand.” Dago paused, taking in Straight’s dark skin tone. “I guess vanilla isn’t quite fitting for you. Would Oreo work better? Dark on the outside and vanilla on the inside.”

Straight crossed his arms. “No, that is not okay. That is some racist shit.”

“How is that racist?”

“I’m black,” Straight said and left it at that.

“I know you’re black. I can see you’re black,” Dago said, throwing out his arms as if presenting Straight to Straight. “That’s why I said it.

“You don’t call a black man a fucking Oreo.”

Dago stood there for a second, his arms withdrawing and wrapping around him as he soaked everything in. Then the gears clicked into place and his arms shot back out as if they were spring loaded.

“Holy shit dude, you’re like black, black?”

Straight nodded.

“Fuck. I didn’t know. I’ve never met a black person before.”

“I’m starting to wonder if anyone around here has,” replied Straight.

“Fuck, I feel bad about that burnt toast comment earlier.”

Straight just stood there and let him get it out.

“I learned about you guys in school, but I’ve never seen one. Sorry, that sounds bad. Is it true that you can’t live on your planet unless you’re 100% black?”

“True.”

“Is that place really a paradise like they make it out to be?”

“It’s pretty good. Low crime rate, good schools. So far it’s better than any other planet I’ve been to.”

“Then why leave?”

“Because sometimes an entire planet isn’t big enough to hold your dreams.

Dago cocked his head and squinted one eye. That seemed a little too after school special for him.

“Okay, one more question. Why in the hell did you guys name your planet Negro? From everything I learned in school that seems kinda screwed up.”

Straight sighed. Dago wasn’t wrong. The name did sound racist and over the centuries there had been more than one attempt to change it, but people hated change more than they did racism, so it stayed.

“The planet was founded by a black man of Hispanic decent. Negro is black in Spanish. Can we please move on from this? I don’t want this to be a major thing.

No, you’re right. Forget I said anything. From here on out, it’s business as usual.

Straight nodded, already missing the APE suite when no one knew he was black and didn’t treat him any differently.

“If there’s an all black planet out there, do you think there could be an all white planet out there?” Dago asked.

“No.” Straight replied.

“Why not?”

“Because white people are extinct. Do you think there is a planet out there of all unicorns and dinosaurs?”

“I mean, there could be? I hope so. Especially the dinosaur one.”

“Now you just sound like Mulligan.”

Dago brought a hand up to stroke his chin as his mind slipped deep into thought. “I wonder how he’s doing on Charron?”