the fuck machine by charles bukowski

it was a hot night in Tony’s. you didn’t even think of fucking.
just drink cool beer. Tony coasted a couple down to me and Indian
Mike, and Mike had the money out. I let him buy the first round.
Tony rang it up, bored, looked around – 5 or six others staring into
their beers, dolts, so Tony walked down to us.
“what’s new, Tony?” I asked.
“ah, shit,” said Tony.
“at ain’t new.”
“shit,” said Tony.
“ah, shit,” said Indian Mike.
we drank at our beers.
“what do you think of the moon?” I asked Tony.
“shit,” said Tony.
“yeah,” said Indian Mike, “guy’s an asshole on earth he’s an
asshole on the moon, makes no difference.”
“they say there’s probably no life on Mars,” I said.
“so what?” asked Tony.
“oh shit,” I said, “2 more beers.”
Tony coasted them down, then walked down for his money.
rang it up. walked back. “shit it’s hot. I wish I were deader than
yesterday’s Kotex.”
“where do men go when they die, Tony?”
“shit, who cares?”
“don’t you believe in the Human Spirit?”
“a bagga bullshit!”
“how about Che? Joan of Arc? Billy the Kid? all those?”
“a bagga bullshit!”
we drank our beers, thinking about it.
“look,” I said, “I gotta take a piss.”
I walked back to the urinal and there, as usual, was Petey the
Owl.
I took it out and began to piss.
“you sure got a little dick,” he told me.
“when I’m pissing or meditating, yeh, but I’m what you call
the super-stretch type. when I’m ready to go, each inch I got now
equals six.”
“that’s good then, if you ain’t lying, cause I see two inches
showing.”
” I just show the head.”
“I’ll give you a dollar to suck your cock.”
“that ain’t much.”
“you’re showing more than head. you’re showing every bit of
string you got.”
“fuck you, Pete.”
“you’ll be back when you run out of beer money.”
I walked back on out.
“2 more beers,” I ordered.
Tony went through his routine, came back.
“it’s so hot, I think I’m going crazy,” he said.
“the heat just makes you realize your true self,” I told Tony.
“wait a minute! you calling me a nut?”
“most of us are. but it’s kept a secret.”
? “all right, saying your bullshit is straight, how many sane men
are there on earth? are there any?”
“a few.”
“how many?”
” out of the billions?”
“yeh, yeh.”
“well, I’d say 5 or 6.”
“5 or 6?” said Indian Mike. “well, suck my cock!”
“look,” said Tony. “how do you know I’m nuts? how do we
get away with it?”
“well, since we are all insane there are only a few to control
us, far too few, so they just let us run around insane. that’s all they
can do at this moment. for a while I thought they might find some
place to live in outer space while they destroyed us. but now I know
that the insane control space also.”
” how do you know?”
“because they planted an American flag on the moon.”
“suppose the Russians had planted a Russian flag on the
moon?”
“same thing,” I said.
“then you’re impartial?” Tony asked.
“I am impartial to all degrees of madness.”
we became quiet. kept drinking. and Tony too, began pouring
himself scotch and waters. he could. he owned the place.
“jesus, it’s hot,” said Tony.
“shit, yeh,” said Indian Mike.
then Tony began talking. “insanity,” said Tony, “ya know,
there’s something very insane going on at this very minute!”
“sure,” I said.
“no, no, no-I mean right HERE at my place!”
“yeh?”
“yeh. It’s so crazy, sometimes I get scared.”
“tell me all about it, Tony,” I said, always ready for somebody
else’s bullshit.
Tony leaned real close. “I know a guy’s got a fuck-machine. no
crazy sex magazine shit. like you see in the ads. hot water bottles
with replaceable cornbeef pussies, all that nonsense. this guy has
really put it together. a German scientist, we got to him, I mean out
govt. did before the Russians could grab him. now keep it quiet.”
“sure, Tony, sure-”
“Von Brashlitz. our govt. tried to get him interested in
SPACE. no go. a brilliant old guy, but he just has this FUCK MA-
CHINE in mind. at the same time he thinks he’s some kind of an
artist, calls himself Michelangelo at times-they pensioned him off
at $500.00 a month to kind of keep him alive enough to stay outa
the nuthouses. they watched him a while, then got a little bored or
forgot, but they kept the checks coming, and now and then an agent
would talk to him ten or twenty minutes a month, write a report
that he was crazy, then leave, so he just drifted around from
town to town, dragging this big red trunk behind him. finally one
night he come in here and begins drinking. tells me that he is just a
tired old man, needs a real quiet place to do his research. I kept
putting him off. lotta nuts come in here, ya know.”
“yeh,” I said.
“then, man, he kept getting drunker and drunker, and he laid
it down to me. he had designed a mechanical woman who could give
a man a better fuck than any woman created throughout the centu-
ries! plus no Kotex, no shit, no arguments!”
“I been looking,” I said, “for a woman like that all my life.”
Tony laughed. “every man has. I thought he was crazy, of
course, until one night after closing I went down to his rooming
house with him and he took the FUCK MACHINE out of the red
trunk.”
“and?”
“it was like going to heaven before you died.”
” let me guess the rest,” I asked Tony.
“guess.”
Von Brashlitz and his FUCK MACHINE are upstairs at your
place right now.”
“uh huh,” said Tony.
“how much?”
“twenty bucks a piece.”
“20 bucks to fuck a machine?”
“he’s outdone whatever Created us. you’ll see.”
“Petey the Owl will blow me for a buck.”
“Petey the Owl is o.k. but he ain’t no invention that beats the
gods.”
I shoved over my 20.
“so help me, Tony, if this is some crazy kind of hot-weather
gag, you’ve lost your best customer!”
“like you said earlier, we’re all crazy anyhow. It’s up to you.”
“right,” I said.
“I only get 50 percent, ya gotta understand. the rest goes to
Von Brashlitz. 500 buck pension ain’t much with inflation and
taxes, and Von B. drinks schnapps like crazy.”
“let’s make it,” I said, “you’ve got 40 bucks. where’s this
immortal FUCK MACHINE?”
Tony lifted a partition of the bar, said, “come through here.
take the stairway to the back rear, just go up there, knock, say,
‘Tony sent us’.”
“any door #?”
“door #69.”
“oh, hell yes,” I said, “what else?”
we found the stairway. walked up. “Tony will do anything for
a gag,” I said.
we walked along, there it was: door #69.
I knocked: “Tony sent us.”
“ah, do come in, gentleman!”
here was this old horny-looking freak, glass of schnapps in his
hand, double-lensed glasses. just like the old-timed movies. he ap-
peared to be having a visitor, a young thing, almost too young,
looking flimsy and strong at the same time.
she crossed her legs, flashing all the bit: nylon knees, nylon
thighs, and just that tiny part there where the long stockings ended
and just that touch of flesh began. she was all ass and breast, nylon
legs, clean blue laughing eyes-
“gentleman, —my daughter, Tanya-”
“what?”
“ah, yes, I know, I am so-old- but like the myth of the
black man with the ever-huge cock, there is also the myth of dirty
old Germans who never stop fucking, you may believe what you
wish to. this is my daughter, Tanya, anyhow-”
“hello, boys,” she laughed.
then we all looked toward the door which was labeled: FUCK
MACHINE STORAGE ROOM.
he finished off his schnapps.
“and so- you boys came over for the best FUCK ever, ya?”
“Daddy!” said Tanya, “must you always be so crude?”
Tanya recrossed her legs, higher this time, and I almost came.
then the professor finished another schnapps, then got up and
walked over to the door labeled FUCK MACHINE STORAGE
ROOM. he turned and smiled at us, then very slowly opened the
door. he walked on in and came out rolling this thing on what
looked like a hospital bed on wheels.
it was NAKED, a clod of metal.
the prof rolled the damn thing right out in front of us, then
began humming some rotten song, probably something from the
German.
a clod of metal with this hole in the center. the professor had
an oil can in his hand, poked it into the hole and began punching in
quite a quantity of this oil, meanwhile humming this insane German
song.
he kept punching the oil in, then looked back over his shoul-
der and said, “nice, ya?” then he went back to work, pumping in the
oil.
Indian Mike looked at me, tried to laugh, said, “god damn-
we’ve been taken again!”
“yeah.” I said, “it seems like it’s been 5 years since I been laid,
but I’ll be damned if I’ll stick my cock into that mound of hard
lead!”
Von Brashlitz laughed. walked over to his liquor cabinet,
found another 5th. of schnapps, poured a goody, sat down facing us.
“as we in Germany began knowing that the war was lost, and
the net began to tighten—down to the final battle of Berlin-we
knew that the war had taken on a new essence—the real war then
became who was to grab the most German scientists. If Russia got
well, I don’t know how it really came out- numerically or in
terms of scientific brain-power. I only know that the Americans got
to me first, snapped me up, took me away in a car, gave me a drink,
put pistols to my head, made promises, talked madly. I signed every-
thing-”
“all right,” I said, “so much for history. but I’m still not going
to stick my dick, my poor little dick into that hunk of sheetmetal or
whatever it is! Hitler must have really been a madman to nursemaid
you. I wish the Russians had gotten to your ass first! I want my 20
bucks back!”
Von Brashlitz laughed, “heeeheeeheeehe-it is just my little
joke, nien? heeeheeeheeeheee!”
he shoved that mound of lead back into the closet.slammed
the door. “oh, heheeehee!” had a bit more schnapps.
Von B. poureed another schnapps. he really put them down.
“gentlemen, I am an artist and an inventor! my FUCK MACHINE is
really my daughter, Tanya-”
“more little jokes, Von?” I asked.
“joke nothing! Tanya! go over and sit in the gentleman’s lap.”
Tanya laughed, got up, walked over and sat in my lap. a FUCK
MACHINE? I couldn’t believe it! her skin was skin, or so it seemed,
and her tongue as it worked into my mouth as we kissed, it was not
mechanical – each movement was different, responding to my own.
I was busy at it, ripping her blouse from her breasts, working
tangled; we somehow got to standing – and I took her standing up,
my hands reaching down, spreading her asshole as I pumped, she came – I
could feel the throbbing, and I joined.
it was the best fuck I had ever had!
Tanya went to the bathroom, cleaned-up and showered,
dressed-up again for Indian Mike. I guess.
“man’s greatest invention,” Von Brashlitz said quite seriously.
he was quite right.
then Tanya came out and sat on MY lap.
“NO! NO! TANYA! IT’S THE OTHER MAN’S TURN! YOU
JUST FINISHED FUCKING THAT ONE!”
she didn’t seem to hear. and it was strange, even for a FUCK
MACHINE, because, really, I had never been a very good lover.
“do you love me?” she asked.
“yes.”
“I love you. and I am so happy. and- I’m not supposed to
be alive. you know that, don’t you?”
“god damn it!” screamed the old man, “this FUCKING MA-
CHINE!” he walked over to this varnished box with the word
TANYA printed on the side. there were these little wires sprouting
out of it; there were dials, and needles that quivered, and many
colors, lights that blinked on and off, things that ticked-Von B.
was the craziest pimp I had ever met, he kept playing with the dials,
then he looked at Tanya:
“25 YEARS! damn near a lifetime to build you! I even had to
hide you from HITLER! and now- you try to turn into a mere
and ordinary bitch!”
“I’m not 25,” said Tanya, “I’m 24.” “you see? you see? just like a
common bitch!”
he went back to his dials.
“you’ve put on a different shade of lipstick,” I said to Tanya.
“you like it?”
“oh, yes!”
she leaned over and kissed me.
Von B. kept playing with the dials. I felt that he would win.
Von Brashlitz turned to Indian Mike. “it’s just a minor kink in
the machine. trust me. I’ll get it straight in a minute, ya?”
“I hope so,” said Indian Mike, “I’ve got 14 inches waiting and
am twenty bucks down.
“I love you,” Tanya told me, “I will never fuck any other
man. If I can’t have you, I won’t have anybody.”
“I’ll forgive you, Tanya, for anything that you do.”
the prof was getting pissed. he kept turning the dials but noth-
ing was happening. “TANYA! It is time for you to FUCK the
OTHER man! I am- getting tired-must have a bit of
schnapps-be off to sleep-Tanya-”
“ah,” said Tanya, “you rotten old fuck! you and your
schnapps, and then nibbling at my tits all night, so I can’t even sleep
while you can’t even raise a decent hard! you’re disgusting!”
“VAS?”
“I SAID, ‘YOU CAN’T EVEN RAISE A DECENT HARD!'”
“you, Tanya, will pay for this! you are MY creation, I am not
yours!”
he kept turning his magic knobs, I mean, on the machine. he
was quite angry, and you could see that, somehow, the anger gave
him a vital brilliance beyond himself, “just wait, Mike. all I have to
do it to adjust the electronics! Wait! a short! I see it!”
then he leaped up. this guy they had saved from the Russians.
he looked at Indian Mike. “it’s straight now! the machine is in
order! have fun!”
then he walked over to his schnapps bottle, poured another
goody, sat down to watch.
Tanya got off of my lap and walked over to Indian Mike. I
watched Tanya and Indian Mike embrace.
Tanya worked Indian Mike’s zipper down, got his cock out,
and man he had plenty of cock! he’d said 14 inches but it looked
more like 20.
then Tanya put both her hands around Mike’s cock.
he moaned in glory.
then she ripped the whole cock right out of and off of his
body. threw it to the side.
I saw the thing roll along the rug like an insane sausage, drib-
bling little sad trailets of blood. It rolled up against a wall. then
stayed there like something with a head but no legs and no place to
go-which was true enough.
next, here came the BALLS flying through the air. a heavy,
looping sight. they simply landed upon the center of the rug and
didn’t know what to do but bleed.
so, they bled.
Von Brashlitz, the hero of the America-Russ invasion took a
hard look at what was left of Indian Mike, my old beer-drinking
buddy, very red on the floor, flowing from the center – Von B took
the highroad, down the stairway-
room 69 had done everything but that.
and then I asked her: “Tanya, the heat will be here very quick-
ly. shall we dedicate the room number to our love?”
“of course, my love!”
we made it, just in time, and the stupid heat ran in.
one of the learned then pronounced Indian Mike dead.
and since Von B. was a kind of U.S.Govt. product, there was a
hell of a lot of people around – various chickenshit officials –
firemen, reporters, the cops, the inventor, the C.I.A., the F.B.I., and
various other forms of human shit.
Tanya came over and sat in my lap. “they will kill me now.
please try not to be sad.” I didn’t answer.
then Von Brashlitz was screaming, pointing to Tanya – “I
TELL YOU, GENTLEMEN, SHE HAS NO FEELING! I SAVED
THE DAMN THING FROM HITLER! I tell you, it is nothing but a
MACHINE!”
they all just stood there, nobody believed Von B.
it was simply the most beautiful machine, and so-called wo-
man, they had ever seen.
“Oh shit! You idiots! Every woman is a fucking machine, can’t
you see that? They play for the highest bidder! THERE IS NO SUCH
THING AS LOVE! THAT IS A FAIRY-TALE MIRAGE LIKE
CHRISTMAS!”
they still wouldn’t believe.
“THIS is only a machine! have FEAR! WATCH!”
VonBrashlitz grabbed one of Tanya’s arms.
ripped it completely off her body.
and inside – inside the hole of her shoulder – you could see it –
there was nothing but wire and tubes – coiled and running things –
plus some minor substance that faintly resembled blood.
I saw Tanya standing there with this coil of wire hanging from
her shoulder, where the arm used to be, she looked at me:
“please, for me to! I asked you to try not to be too sad.”
I watched as they ganged her, and ripped and raped and tore.
I couldn’t help it. I put my head down between my legs and
cried-
also, Indian Mike never got his 20 bucks worth.
some months went by. I never went back to the bar. There was
a trial but the govt. exonerated Von B. and his machine. I moved to
another town. far away. and one day sitting in a barbershop, I
picked up this sex mag. here was an ad: “Blow up your own little
dolly! $29.95. Resistant rubber material, very durable. Chains and
whips included in package. A bikini, bras, panties. 2 wigs, lipstick
and small jar of love-potion included. Von Brashlitz Co.”
I sent him a money order. some box number in Mass. he had
moved too.
the package arrived in about 3 weeks. very embarrassing. I
didn’t have a bicycle pump, and then I got the hots when I took the
thing out of the package. I had to go down to the corner gas station
and use their air hose.
it looked better as it blew up. big tits. big ass.
“whatcha got there, pal?” the gas station man asked me.
“look, man, I’m just borrowing a little air. don’t I buy a lot of
gas here, huh?”
“o.k., that’s o.k., you can have the air. I just damn well can’t
help wondering whatcha got there-”
“just forget it!” I said.
“JESUS! look at those TITS!”
“I AM looking, asshole!”
I left him there with his tongue hanging out, then threw her
over my shoulder and made it back to my place. I carried her into
the bedroom.
the big question was yet to come?
I spread the legs and looked for some kind of opening.
Von B. hadn’t completely slipped.
I climbed on top and began kissing that rubber mouth. now
and then I reached for one of the giant rubber tits and sucked upon
it. I had put a yellow wig on her and rubbed the love-potion all over
my cock. It didn’t take much love-potion. maybe he’d sent a year’s
worth.
I kissed her passionately behind the ears, stuck my finger up
her ass, kept pumping. then I leaped off, chained her arms behind
her back, there was this little lock and key and then I whipped her
ass good with the leather thongs.
god, I gotta be nuts! I thought.
then I flipped her over and put it back in. humped and
humped. frankly, it was rather boring. I imagined male dogs screwing
female cats; I imagined 2 people fucking through the air as they
jumped from the Empire State Building. I imagined a pussy as large
as an octopus, crawling toward me, wet and stinking and aching for
an orgasm. I remembered all the panties, knees, legs, tits, pussies I
had ever seen. the rubber was sweating; I was sweating.
“I love you, darling!” I whispered into one of her rubber ears.
I hate to admit it, but I forced myself to come into that lousy
hunk of rubber. It was hardly a Tanya at all.
I took a razor blade and cut the thing all to shit. dumped it
out with the beercans.
how many men in America bought those stupid things?
or then you can pass half a hundred fuck machines in a 10
minute walk on almost any main sidewalk of America – the only
difference being that they pretended that they were human.
poor Indian Mike. with that 20 inch dead cock.
all the poor Indian Mikes. all the climbers into Space. all the
whores of Vietnam and Washington.
poor Tanya, her belly had been a hog’s belly. veins the veins of
a dog. she rarely shatted or pissed, she had just fucked – heart, voice
and tongue borrowed from others – there were only supposed to be
17 possible organ transplants at that time. Von B. was far ahead of
them.
poor Tanya, who had only eaten a little – mostly cheap cheese
and raisins. she had had no desire for money or property or large
new cars or overexpensive homes. she had never read the evening
paper. had no desire for colored television, new hats, rain boots,
backfence conversation with idiot wives; nor had she desired a hus-
band who was a doctor, a stockbroker, a congressman or a cop.
and the guy at the gas station keeps asking me, “hey, what
happened to that thing you brought down here one day and blew up
with the air hose?”
but he doesn’t ask anymore. I buy my gas at a new place. I
don’t even get my hair cut anymore where I saw that magazine with
the Von Brashlitz rubber dolly sex ad. I am trying to forget every-
thing.
what would you do?

The Fuck Machine can be found in the collection, The Most Beautiful Woman in Town. I highly recommend it.

Buy the book at Amazon.com

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Charles Bukowski is one of America’s most outrageous authors of poetry and prose, and, many would claim, its most prolific too. Bukowski was born in Germany but raised in Los Angeles.