Bob Belcher Mustache Novels & Stories

I rested my head in the table and let my mind drift off. I felt somehow giddy and nauseated because this is my first time in detention. Yeah, you heard it right. I am currently in the detention room and gladly theres only 15 minutes left and I'll be out. I looked up and saw the guidance counselor snoring. He's a fat man with an almost balding hair and he has a fake mustache. How can I say it's fake? Well, where can you see a mustache growing on a guy's upper lip?. He reminds me of a character in 'Clarence' but I don't really remember his name. But I'm sure it was one of the teachers there.

Councilman Mitch complained. “Watch yourself.” I warned in a low tone. Folding my arms over my chest, I waited for Bruce to be finished with his…well whatever he was doing. “Yeah, dude, chill out man. I can only work so fast.” Bruce grinned at Councilman Mitch who gave him the death glare. “How about you shave the pathetic excuse for a mustache and learn your job!” councilman Mitch retorted. Bruce was a scrawny kid with a face full of pimples and three hairs for a mustache.

I had to elbow my way to get close to bar top before resting my elbows on it, sighing. “Tom Tom,” I called out. “Four whiskies.” He looked at me, frowning. Poor kid looked haggard and busy. “Okay,” he said, hustling to get the drinks before more Rebels tried to get his attention. I stood there for a second and then felt something pinch my ass. I shot straight up, whirling around. “What the hell?” I asked. This guy was just standing there, grinning at me. He was missing a front tooth, and his beard was patchy and graying. “Girl, you was making it too tempting,” he said, “just sticking that round behind out there.”

Her lips naturally pink lips looked even more red and swollen because Bella was biting it hard. Jullius’ gaze turned cold. “Face the reality,” he said. His index finger stroked Bella’s cheek. So gentle. Had Jullius not revealed the truth, Bella might have enjoyed the tenderness this man offered. Moreover, this man looks even more charming with his serious expression. His symmetrical facial shape is sharp and defined. His almond-shaped eyes with those beautiful hazel irises, that intense expression, never left Arabella not stunned by the beauty. His nose is sharp and his lips are full. Even though he often smokes, his lips still look pink and moist. His mustache and beard remained neatly trim

A shiny patch of sweat blooms at his chest, staining the cheap satin. And his face?? Greasy, pockmarked skin. A moustache that looks like it was glued on during a blackout. Teeth like yellowed piano keys, and hair slicked back so hard it might actually be scared of his forehead. He stops in front of us, grinning wide. “Elena!” He exclaims in a nasal, high-pitched tone that doesn't match his bulky frame. “I'm Giacomo Morreti. But you, Bella, can call me Gio Gio.”

"He barked at me like I'm one of his casino employees and told me to be here at nine. Here I am, but he's nowhere to be found. He's probably trying to hide his damn receding hairline just to make himself look ten years younger. I don't know what he'll do with that pot belly, though." "What do you mean? What receding hairline? What pot belly?" Her new friend looked downright perplexed, the sadness back in his cognac eyes. He looked darn cute, like a lost puppy, and if he wasn't a grown-ass hulk of a man, she would have adopted him.

All of the people were still wearing their masks as they silently watched me. "Ahh, you must be Ivan's little girl." His voice was raspy, like someone who had smoked for a long time. His beard was grey and in need of a good trim. The top of his head was balding, and he held a relatively large belly. In other words, he was the image of total creep. The kind of weirdo you were warned to avoid as a child before heading to the park with your friends. I put on my best fake smile and prepared myself for one hell of a performance.