2 comments/ 57536 views/ 4 favorites The Purple Turtle Incident By: eliza mimsford This is fiction but I vaguely remember reading in the paper maybe 20 years ago that something like this happened during a bar hold up. Let me know if you remember anything about a real event like this happening. * There once was a bar called the Purple Turtle and I happened to be there during a robbery. However, the robbers only emptied the cash register and got out as quickly as possible. Most people did not even know that a robbery was in progress, and there certainly was no sexual coercion. Oh, and remember everyone—THIS IS A FANTASY. I certainly do not condone violence against women or against anyone for that matter. What might be titillating as a fantasy would be horrifying in reality! Eliza Bonnie could tell that, as far as her nephew Nick was concerned, she had brought him to just the right place to celebrate his twenty-first birthday. Nick's dad Matt seemed less thrilled with her choice of a venue for their celebration, and his Mom, Bonnie's sister Paulette, looked almost apoplectic. "I thought we were going somewhere nice," Paulette said. "I should have known when you drove us down to this neighborhood, that we'd be coming to some dump ..." "Are you kidding? This used to be one of the nicest neighborhoods in town ..." Bonnie said. "And ..." "Yeah, about a hundred years ago," Matt said. "And, as I was about to say, this neighborhood is gonna be the next hot part of town." In truth, the Purple Turtle was in a neighborhood that had seen better days, and the bar did seem a bit seedy. Some of the customers seemed a little seedy too, but Bonnie had been coming here once or twice a week for several years and had always had a good time and felt perfectly safe. The beer was cold and cheap, the music was good, there were plenty of pool tables, and the burgers were the best in town. "I like it," said Nick, looking around. "I like it a lot. There are some hot looking girls here." "Forget about them," said Paulette curtly, "you're here with your family." They sat at the bar. The bartender came over. Paulette ordered a margarita and the rest of them ordered beer. The bartender asked for Nick's I.D. and he proudly whipped out his wallet and showed the bartender his driver license. "A birthday boy," she said, smiling. "First one's on the house, then." Bonnie had always adored her nephew Nick. She'd never had kids of her own. Nick was her "son" in a way. But he was also a very good looking young man. She glared at the bartender. She projected the thought, "Stay away from him." Then she felt silly. Nick was her nephew, not her lover. He should have a good time on his 21st birthday. They sat and chatted for awhile. After a couple of beers, Matt seemed to relax. The band was playing 60's music, which made him happy. Nick was happily flirting with the bartender. Paulette was the only one who still seemed uncomfortable. But then, Bonnie thought, Paulette never seems comfortable. "Slow down," Paulette told her son. "You're drinking too fast." "Mom," he whispered, "you're embarrassing me. You know, just because this is my first legal beer doesn't mean it's my first beer." Paulette gave him a dirty look. To make matters even worse for Paulette, the guy sitting at the bar next to her kept trying to chat her up. There were always a few scary people hanging out at the Purple Turtle, but Bonnie found that they were harmless, and some of them were very nice guys. The one next to Paulette, though, was extra scary looking. Even though it was a warm evening, he was wearing a leather jacket. He had a pasty white complexion and some ugly tattoos. He kept trying to talk to Paulette. "Pretty Lady,: he said to Paulette. "Maybe you dance of me?" She stared at him as if he were cat vomit on her oriental carpet. "I don't think so," she said, waving her hand in front of her face as if swatting away flies. He smiled, a rather evil smile, and said, "That's OK ... maybe later on the evening you'll feel more for dancing." Bonnie heard a Mitteleuropa accent in his voice. He might have been Croatian, or Bulgarian, or Lithuanian or something like that. Paulette rolled her eyes. "I don't think so, we're just hear to celebrate my son's birthday." "Oh is very nice, whole family gathered up, your husband, your son, your daughter, to celebration the birthday boy," the man said. "She's NOT my daughter, she's my sister," Paulette snapped at him. "She's only four years younger than me." Bonnie knew that she looked ten years younger than her big sister, who had really let herself go after marrying Matt, but there was no way the man could really have thought Bonnie was really Paulette's daughter. He's just needling her cause she wouldn't dance with him, she thought. "Am sorry to offending you," said the man. "Has been so nice talking, but now must do an important something." "I think Mom's got a boyfriend," Nick whispered to Bonnie. Bonnie laughed. She glanced over at the guy next to Paulette again. He was looking, she noticed, at a couple of other guys with pasty complexions sitting across the bar from him who were also wearing leather. They might have been his brothers or cousins. Then she noticed another one of these east European types at the door. As she watched, the guy next to Paulette nodded to the others, smiled his nasty smile, and unzipped his jacket. What happened next was very alarming. He pulled out a gun. It had a handle like a pistol but was as long as a shotgun. It looked particularly lethal. She looked around. The other three men in leather were also brandishing weapons. The one next to Paulette fired a shot into the air. It sounded like a rocket being launched. Paulette, who had deliberately turned on her barstool so as to avoid looking at him, was unaware that her neighbor at the bar had drawn a gun. She was so startled by the thunderous report that she nearly fell off her barstool. There was a shower of plaster dust onto the bar, into their drinks, and all over their clothes and hair. "Everyone, listen out, and listen out good," said the man by the door. He also had an eastern European accent. "There's a robbery going up here. EVERYONE lies down to their bellies NOW, you don't mind." Bonnie slid off he bar stool and laid face down on the dirty floor of the Purple Turtle. She was sorry she'd worn a white top. She saw the man who had been standing near the front door lock the door behind him. Another pasty-faced. leather-jacketed man herded the kitchen help out into the main part of the restaurant and had them lie down, then he went into the restrooms. He pushed out an older man who had a wet stain on the front of his pants. He must have been in mid-pee when the shot went off. The man who had been sitting next to Paulette went behind the bar and emptied the cash register into a bag. Another man went into the office and forced the manager to empty the safe. Bonnie thought, "They've got what they want. Now they'll get out of here as fast as they can ...." This was wishful thinking. Now they were going around the bar from person to person, stealing everything of value. "Stay down in the floor you bitch girl," one of the robbers said to a woman who was lying near Bonnie. This woman had raised up on her elbows, trying to figure out what was going on. The man put his foot on this back, forcing her flat against the floor. The woman said, "I've been drinking beer ... I need to go to the bathroom ... I'm scared ..." "Shut up, you cunt girl," the man said, pressing down on her back with his foot. "Don't be moving yourself." "Are you going to kill us?" the woman asked him tearfully. "Perhaps we might," said the man, with a smirking look at her, but first, we're going to watch as you fuck up each other." Does he mean watch as we fuck each other? WHAT?" Bonnie thought. Is he serious? Bonnie couldn't see her brother or nephew's face but she could see her sister's. Paulette had gone white with fear. Paulette had also overheard the raider's remark. "Now, all you going to lie down especially quiet, like you're dead people, cause we're gonna come around and check for valuables and weapons and cell phones on your bodies..." said the bandit that had fired the shot. "Have you gotten that?" While one man stood at the door, three made their way from customer to customer. They would make one person at a time stand up and then would search that person, taking jewelry, phones, watches, wallets, cash. They also had the women empty their purses, and would paw though the contents looking for more valuables. They did not search the customers gently, and with the women, they were particularly rough and particularly thorough. When they came to the woman who had tried to sit up, she was virtually hysterical. They took off her jewelry. One of the men searched her, roughly feeling in her bra. The woman, who seemed more than a little drunk, lost control. She started to cry and to pee simultaneously. Her urine poured down her legs and onto the floor. A few warm drops splashed on Bonnie's forearm. "Oh my God, she's pissing up herself!" said one of the men, and they all laughed. They stole everything the woman owned. When they came to Bonnie, one of the men nudged her with the barrel of a gun and told her to stand up. Shakily, she got to her feet. "Nice," the bandit said, fingering the diamond pendant around her neck. It had been a gift from her ex, one of the few nice things that he had ever given her. The man emptied her purse and took her wallet Goodbye credit cards, driver's license, library card, paycheck, and ... what, maybe $80 cash? She cringed, thinking of the hassle it would be dealing with the loss of all those lost items, then realized that was not the most pressing problem. One of he raiders was searched her. He put his hand up her blouse and felt her breasts. He pinched her nipples. She tried to run away but he grabbed her roughly by the hair, hurting her. "Do you want to loose some your teeth?" he asked, then he kissed her, his mouth tasting of beer and cigarettes. He forced his tongue into her mouth. "Kiss back at me, bitch girl." Fighting back tears, she returned the kiss, though it almost made her nauseous "Now hold still and let me search you." He unzipped her jeans. The man stuck his hand into her panties and roughly fingered her, while his face was just a few inches from her. She felt his breath quicken as he rubbed her privates and then roughly stuck a finger inside her, hurting her . He smiled, looking at the pain in her in the eyes, watching her. "Guess you not hiding nothing in your pussy," he said, smiling, his foul breath in her face. Still holding her by the hair, he kissed her on the mouth again and then kicked her legs out from under her. She tumbled roughly to the floor. Then he went on. Bonnie closed her eyes when the robbers came to Paulette. This would not be pretty. She heard Paulette beg to be allowed to keep her wedding ring, then she heard a loud slap. "Before, you too good to talk at me, eh?" said the man who had been sitting there. "Now maybe you wish you made nice with me." He slapped her When she opened her eyes, Paulette's lip was puffy and cracked and there was blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Within a cold and ashen face, Paulette endured the search, only crying out when the bandit reached under her dress and felt her between legs. "He patted her ass. "I talk you again soon," he promised. One of the bandit's searched her nephew Nick. When they'd finished, he, "Looked this watch boy has. goddamn Rolex." Bonnie almost smiled. She'd bought Nick's "Rolex", which she'd given to him for his twenty-first birthday, when she visited Hong Kong a few months ago. It had cost her about $12. Soon they'd taken everything of any value from all the customers and employees and searched them all. "Well," said the man who'd been sitting by Paulette, "is concluding business now. Now we' all going to have little fun." "First, a little dancing," he walked the floor looking for women he wanted to see dancing, He kicked the bartender, the female singer from the band, and the woman who had wet herself, and told them to get up on the stage. Then he kicked Bonnie and Paulette. "Get asses up there." Bonnie reluctantly made her way up to the stage. Paulette was still cringing on the floor. She refused to move. She was trying to say something but no words came out. The raider who had been sitting next to them at the bar went over to Nick. He lifted Nick's head by his hair and put a hunting knife to Nick's throat. "You want boy live to be twenty-two?" Paulette, looking utterly horror stricken, shuffled to the stage. "Everyone, sit up and watch at the show!" one of the bandits yelled at the people on the floor. Music started, an ugly rap song Bonnie hated rap, but she danced. She'd only been to a strip club once or twice, with her ex-. She tried to remember what they did but could only remember her ex-husband tripping over himself to put dollar bills in the dancers' g-strings. She tried to be a little bit sexy so that the bandits wouldn't scream at her as they were screaming at poor Paulette. "You're dance like damned zombie girl." one of them shouted at her, "You're fucking robot woman!" "OK, is time is come to see dancers' boobies," said one of the raiders. There was nothing she could do. She pulled the tank top over her head and dropped it to the stage. Paulette was wearing a dress. She looked confused. "Taking off the dress, cunt girl." Paulette very slowly unbuttoned the dress and very reluctantly removed it. One of the robbers urged the customers sitting on the floor watching the dance to hoot and yell for more. Thos who didn't, he kicked hard.. Slowly, sadly, and with infinite reluctance, Paulette reached around to undo her brassiere. When they had been teenagers, Bonnie had been jealous of Paulette's breasts and her shapely ass. She remembered, one night, when she was about 18 and Paulette was 22, Bonnie went skinny-dipping with a group of friends to a little lake, and somehow Paulette had invited herself along. Bonnie, with her 32B's, had hung back in the shadows or stayed in water up to her neck. Paulette always seemed to be in the full glow of the firelight, sticking her 36C's out to make them see even bigger or strutting around so that everyone could see her dynamite ass. That was 20 years ago, though, and time and gravity had taken their toll. Once, after he'd had a few drinks, Paulette's husband Matt had told Bonnie, that Paulette slept in bra and panties under her nightie so that he couldn't see her body. According to him, Paulette's tits had drooped and her nipples had a chewed-on look to them—Nick might have been in part responsible for that, the kid had breast fed for an ungodly long time, over three years. Paulette's ass, her husband had sadly confided to Bonnie, was oatmealish and scored by stretch marks. Bonnie remembered taking a certain satisfaction in hearing this—her own tits and ass didn't look all that different than they had in the mid-eighties. Thee was no hiding herself now. Paulette's bra fell away and there were her tits. Not so bad that I'd sleep in a bra every night, Bonnie thought, but they sure don't look like they did the night we went skinny-dipping. "Get rid off of your jeans," the raider told Bonnie. She realized, now, why strippers didn't wear jeans. Taking off pants while you were dancing was a feat. Once, with one leg still in her pants leg an one out, Bonnie took an ungainly fall on the stage. No wanting to risk another fall, Bonnie stayed on her back, and, still moving in time to the music, pulled her jeans off her other leg and stripped them off. "Both of you, taking your panties off," the raider told Bonnie and her sister. Bonnie hated to do this. She was in the habit of shaving herself down there, but lately, she hadn't had a boyfriend and ... well, she had gotten lazy. She was in that halfway stage between shaved and natural that she though looked weird. Seeing that the robber was waving his gigantic firearm in their direction, however, she did what she was told. Paulette had given up trying to complain. She just dropped her panties. Paulette, she noticed, didn't shave at all. There was a thick black bush that spilled over onto her upper thighs and crawled up her ass. The music stopped. "Now we have for us a little living sex show," said one of the robbers. The man who had been sitting by Paulette took both Paulette and Bonnie by the hand and led them to the edge of the stage where Paulette's husband and son would have no choice but to watch them. The two women stood naked in front of the robber. First, he put his hand on Bonnie's most intimate place, his finger going deeply into her vagina. Then he took his finger and made Paulette lick it. "Are you liking taste of your sister cutie?" he asked Paulette. Next he handed Bonnie a beer bottle. "Stick bottle up your sisters pussy," Bonnie just looked at the brown bottle, then he slapped her face, so hard he almost knocked her over. "You must doing what I tell you when I tell you , bitch girl!" Bonnie got down on her knees in front of Paulette. She used one hand to try to part the dark hair and to pry the sister open. Her sister had thick, long pussy lips. Bonnie managed to get those open but then Paulette's vagina seemed inordinately dry and impenetrable. "Push on hard or I hurting you," the robber told her. "I break the goddamn bottle and put it up your ass." The pain on Paulette's face was evident. Bonnie put her fingers in her own mouth, wetting them, and then rubbed them on Paulette's lower lips so there would be a little bit of lubrication. Still too dry. Sighing, Bonnie touched her sister's clitoris. When she did, her sister squeaked. "What the hell are you doing to me?" Paulette whispered angrily. "I'm trying to help. I'm going to tear you up with that bottle if you're not a little wet, damn it." Paulette looked no less angry but she didn't stop Bonnie, even pulling the fold away from her clitoris so Bonnie could touch it. Finally she was then able work the bottle inside Paulette's pussy. "Push it in then out," he told Bonnie. "Fuck her with the bottle. Is good, yes?" He pushed both of them down to their knees. "Taking down my pants," he commanded them. Bonnie undid his belt and Paulette, as if in a dream, pulled down his zipper and pulled his pants down to his knees. "And taking down my boxer underpants." Together they pulled down his underwear. His dick flopped out. It seemed thick as a horse's but was only about 4 inches long. The oral sex he forced them to have was brutal. He started with Bonnie, grabbing her head with two hands and forcing her to take more of his meaty dick into her mouth than she could stand. She gagged and tears came to her eyes. His cock rammed against the back of her throat hand and unpleasantly triggering her gag reflex. Then he turned his attention to Paulette. He wrapped Paulette's hair around one hand and jerked her head so that his cock was right in front of her mouth Her lips were still trickling blood from when he'd slapped her. He pried her jaws open with one hand and stuck his fat cock into her mouth. "If you biting me, bitch girl, you'll being sorry, you and whole of stupid family." Then he pinched her nose with one hand so she had to keep her mouth as wide open as she could or she wouldn't be able to breathe. Periodically he would take his cock from Paulette's mouth and slap her hard with it across her face. He didn't wield it in his hand like a bat. Instead, he swung his hips, his whole body, and made his fleshy dick fly at her face with blinding speed. It sounded like someone slapping a big dead fish against a marble floor. Paulette was weeping continuously now, lost and dazed by the sexual humiliation. The Purple Turtle Incident The raider looked over his shoulder at Paulette's son and husband. "Hey, I want two you to be getting your asses here on stage. I want you watching mom blow the guy's dick, guy she wouldn't even talk to! You get up here and watching closely." With his gun he directed Matt to one side Nick to another. "You like watching your mommy suck anyone's cock, yes?." He fucked Paulette's mouth harder and harder, his broad penis buried up to the balls in her mouth. Paulette was making these horrible, gurgling, gagging, noises, mostly blocked by the mass of his cock in her mouth. She fought to move her head away from him but he had a firm hold on her hair. Sometimes he'd smack the back of her head to drive his cock even farther into her mouth. Bonnie saw Paulette's eyes water and heard her gag again and again but the bandit was not letting her take him out of her mouth. "God, she giving the good head," he told them. "I guess you both are knowing that," he smirked. "She like suck her little boy's sausage?" A stream of liquid something—spit? pre-cum? barf?—slipped past Paulette's lips and tricked down his balls. "Hey, before I am finishing, I must know, is this watching making your sausages stand up? Are you exciting to see you little mommy suck off me?" Both of them were ashen and shook their heads. The robber said. "I betting you are. I betting you love to see it.." Matt managed to look disgusted and fascinated at the same time. Nick looked nervous and guilty. "No, ..." they both said. "Sure, I betting you are. Standing up and taking down your pants." "What?" Nick asked, disbelievingly. Matt looked shocked "I just want to know. The ladies and me, we wanna know if you're getting hard, watching them deep throat me, so you're gonna show them". He aimed his gun at Nick's crotch, then at Matt's. The two men stood up, both red in the face. They obviously didn't want to take down their pants but the gun pointed at their manhoods was a powerful incentive. They both began to unzip. What do you think, ladies? I betting they hard as me. Get those underpants off of you too." Both of them were exposed now, and Bonnie couldn't help look at the men to see how the humiliation and pain on the stage had affected her brother and nephew. The bandit had been right about Nick. His was standing up tall, He had a long, thin, elegant dick with a backwards curve to it that made it look like a scimitar. Despite the desperation of her situation, Bonnie couldn't help but be impressed with her nephew's dick. She also noticed that Nick couldn't stop looking at her, at her bare breasts and exposed crotch About Matt, it was more difficult to say. Matt had the smallest penis she had ever seen on a grown man. It looked to be about the size of an AA battery. But—small as it was, it was sticking straight up, so she guessed that she had to qualify it as a hard-on. So they were both getting off on the show. Paulette was not pleased with their erect penises. "You get off on this?" Paulette shouted at them. "You like this?" she shrieked? You both enjoy seeing this?" Her anger radiated from her like waves of heat. Paulette started licking the robber's cock as if she were his long-lost lover. She sucked and slobbered on his dick. To a connoisseur, it was probably not a great job of oral sex, but to the robber, it seemed to feel just fine.. "Oh yeah," the raider said, "watching me sperm all over these bitch girls. Lie on backs, ladies. He pushed Bonnie and Paulette hard, knocked them from their knees onto their backs so that they were lying on the stage side by side. Then he squatted over them. "Stroking it, both you. I'm going to semenize you." "Aghhhhhh!" he bellowed. Bonnie felt his dick throb. He indeed "semenized" them. The first shot hit Paulette just over the eye. Then he aimed the opening of his cock at Bonnie. Cum splashed on her nose and in her hair. He stood up, now stroking himself, and kept cumming and cumming, spurt after spurt of hot white semen. It landed on their faces, their tummies, their thighs. It gleamed whitely in Paulette's dark pubic hair. Just when she thought he must be done another pulse of white cum shot out of the end of his dick and hit Bonnie on the nipple. When he was finally finished he grabbed Paulette's hair and wiped himself clean. The bandit now told Matt and Nick to stand up. He looked down at Matt's tiny but engorged penis. "What that thing is? Is looking like a dick, only smaller." He laughed. . "You boys are in for the luck. Now is time for your to enjoy the family. It's time for a ... what you call it? ... a little of the audience participation." The other robbers had been going around the bar, arranging couples. The old man who had been in the bathroom was fucking the signer from the bar. The manager was doing two waitress. The woman who had peed on the floor was giving head to a busboy. They had practically everyone in the bar now having sex with one another "You," he told Matt, "I bet you've been wanting for years to fuck your sister in the law. Hell, her breasts looking better naked than your wife. Go on, you enjoy yourself." "Don't you dare fuck her," Paulette hissed at Matt, but the bandit smacked her tits hard. "Don't to be jealous, I've just the right person for you to do the fucking with." Meanwhile, Matt was fondling Bonnie's breasts and ass. "I'm sorry, Bonnie," he said. He didn't seem to be sorry, though, he seemed to be getting hot. His mouth were all over her breasts, licking her even though her skin was still wet and tacky from the robber's cum. He was breathing hard. She spread her legs. "Let's get this over with Matt," "Can't we ... have a little foreplay." He starting playing with her clitoris. A little foreplay? Jesus! "Just do it, Matt." She guided him into her. His prick was so small, she hardly felt him enter her vagina. He pumped at her like a dog. "I'm sorry, Bonnie" he whispered he whispered in her ear, "I'm truly so sorry but for so long I have wanted to do this to you. This is like a dream come true." She was startled. She decided to ignore what he was saying to her. "Listen, Matt, just please pull out because I'm not ..." Suddenly he was making noises like a woman. "because I'm not using any birth control..." she finished lamely. He shuddered and came and came inside her. When his tiny dick slipped out she felt gobs of his stuff running out of her pussy. "I'm so sorry," he whimpered, but then he kissed her. "I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stop. I always wanted to fuck you, I always wanted to do that inside of you, it's you I love...." Bonnie could tell from the sound of Paulette's shrieks that the bandit had forced the ultimate humiliation on her: sex with her own son. The bandit stood over them, watching and laughing. "He's hot on his momma. "He wants sucking on those old tits just like when was a little baby." Bonnie felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn't the bandit have given Nick to her? She could see Paulette's face, the picture of utter despair and embarrassment as her grown son suckled her tits. "Now your baby gonna fuck in you." "Oh oh, we having a problem," Nick had lost his erection. The robber said. "Come over here, cunt," he told Bonnie. "Your gonna helping him. he has lost his hard up. I think he likes his auntie, though. You giving him a little suck, getting him hot again." She knelt down by Nick and took his penis in her mouth. It was the smoothest, sweetest smelling cock she had ever sucked. She worked her lips on the head, then licked the length of it with her tongue. It immediately came to attention again. Nick touched her breasts, touched her pussy, still wet with his father's cum. While she had felt disgusted by Matt's lust for her, she was energized by Nick's desire. She felt entirely detached from the sordid scene, felt powerfully drawn to her nephew, wanting him inside her, wishing they were in a bad on clean white sheets and that there was no one else around. She touched his balls and felt his magnificent dick quiver. He rubbed her clitoris and suddenly, she couldn't help herself, all the fear and pain of the evening turned to sheer physical pleasure. She felt an orgasm approaching. "OK, is enough, I think, later perhaps you do the auntie fuck. Now, I want you opening your slut sister's legs and you put the dick of her son inside of the pussy." " Paulette was shaking her head wildly. She was not going to submit to this final indignity. Bonnie spoke soothingly. Knowing how religious her sister was, she said, "Don't worry Paulette, Jesus will forgive you. Just do what he says or he'll kill you and maybe Nick and Matt and me too." Paulette hissed at her like a snake. She said, "I don't care, you whore, and Jesus will fry you for touching me down there and fucking my husband and getting pleasure from my Nick." Paulette kept fighting her. It was worse than trying to get the bottle inside her. "Mom," Nick said, "He really will kill you. Open your legs and let Aunt Bonnie put me in you." The robber produced a hunting knife. He flip-flopped it on Paulette's breast and said, "I'll cutting the goddamn nipple off." He held her nipple between two fingers and held the blade of his knife against its base. A drop of blood appeared. Bonnie looked on, shocked and fascinated, sure that the man was going to slice away her sister's nipple. "Paulette's legs suddenly inched open and Bonnie helped Nick slide his penis into that taboo pussy. Suddenly the robber straightened up, an expression of stunned and stupid surprise on his face. There was a thunderous crash, and the Purple Turtle was full of noise and light and confusion. There were police everywhere. The robber, shot through the brain, died before he hit the floor. * * * Bonnie was sitting on the floor covered with a blanket. Someone had gotten her a cup of coffee. "It was one of the dishwashers. He hid in the beer cooler," a cop told her. "But he couldn't use his cell phone in there, it was like being in a vault or something'. Then when them pervert robbers started doing that uh, that sex stuff out here, he figured, he figured they'd be distracted, and he uh, he sneaked outa the beer cooler and called us." Paulette and her husband Matt had already left. Bonnie imagined that they would have fodder for therapy sessions for the rest of their lives together on account of this evening. They had brought Bonnie to the Purple Turtle in their minivan. "I'm going to need a ride home," Bonnie told the policeman. Her nephew Nick was still here, sitting on the floor near Bonnie, also wrapped in a blanket, said, "I can give you a ride. I'll be happy to, Aunt Bonnie. "