Curley confronts Slim, yells, cries, and gets his hand broken - in that order. Originally a 9th grade english assignment. One-shot. SlimPOV. REVISED.

Did anyone get the reference in the title? It's about that one Friends episode where Chandler makes a joke about Joey handling the chick. "Easy there, Lennie." lol. Anyway, this was an old English assignment I was reluctant to get rid of. Basically, the first major Lennie scene, but done in Slim's perspective.

xoxo —ei

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The One with the Hand

Slim's POV

Suddenly someone started bellowin' outside the stable.

I walked over to the doorway and met Curley.

He looked inside and narrowed his eyes. "Eh, Slim, know where my wife is?"

"No," I muttered, turning back to the mule.

"I can't find 'er, Slim. Did she come in here?"

"I doan know."

"How do ya not know?"

"Why would I know? What're you gettin' at Curley?"

"I just been askin' if she here!" He said defensively.

"If she was here, I'd be tellin' you."

"Well, I jus sayin'…"

"What're you saying? That I been with your wife?" I finished tarring the mule and turned round to glare at him.

Curley looked frightened of even the idea of accusing me of been with his wife.

Goddamn tart.

"I didn't mean nothing, Slim. I jus ast you."

"Well, you been askin' too often. I'm getting' goddamn sick of it. If you can't look after your own goddamn wife, what you expect me to do about it? You lay offa me," I growled fiercely.

He said something back in response but not so I could hear it.

"Why'n't you tell her to stay the hell home where she belongs? You let her hand around these bunkhouses and pretty soon you're gonna have som' pin on your hands and you won't be able to do nothing about it," Carlson sneered.

Curley whirled around. "You keep outta this les' you wanta step outside."

Carlson laughed. "Ya goddamn punk, you tried to throw a scare into Slim an' you couldn't make it stick. Slim throwed a scare inta you. You're yella as a frog belly. I don't care if you're the best welter in the country. You come for me, an' I'll kick your goddam head off."

"Glove fulla vaseline…" Candy added.

"What the hell you laughin' at?" Curley fired back.

I ignored his outburst. That bastard always wanted to pick a fight. Couldn't keep his nose clean if he hadda a million handkerchiefs.


"Come on ya big bastard. Get up on your feet. No son-of-a-bitch is gonna laugh at me. I'll show you who's yella."

"George…make 'um let me alone, George…"

I turned around, suddenly filled with anger.

Lennie cowered against the wall as Curley slugged him in the face.

"Get 'im, Lennie. Don't let him do it." George urged him.

That son-of-a-bitch. He got off enough when he licked 'em big guys.

"Make 'um stop, George." Lennie covered his bloody face with his hands.

Now he was gonna lick Lennie and no one was gonna do anything about it?

Curley punched Lennie in the stomach and Lennie doubled over, gasping for breath.

"The dirty little rat!" I thundered, crossing the room in long strides.

George stopped me.

"Get 'im, Lennie!"

Lennie stayed in his defensive position for a few moments longer, then as Curley threw out his fist to slug him in the face again. He caught his wrist and held on.

For a moment, we all stared at Curley; he stared at his hand and Lennie's gigantic paw covering it. Then Curley was on the floor, floppin' like an almost dead fish.

"That bastard…" George muttered, and he rushed over to Lennie and started slappin' his face to make 'em let go. "Leggo of him, Lennie, George shouted.

Lennie watched Curley helplessly as though he couldn't do anything.

"Let go," I bellowed.

He wouldn't…or couldn't let go.

"Leggo his hand, Lennie. Leggo. Slim come help me while the guy got any hand left."

Suddenly Lennie let go.

"You tol' me to, George," He cried.

I looked his hand over and said in awe, "We got to get him in to a doctor. Looks to me like every bone in his han' is bust."

"I didn't wanta. I didn't wanta hurt 'im," Lennie cried on.

"Carlson, you get the candy wagon hitched up. We'll take 'um to Soledad and get 'im fixed up." I ran out and got a cuppa water fer Curley (God, I never thought this day would come that I was hoping to Gawd that Curley weren't dropped dead). When I git back, the men were bringin' Curley round. I said to Lennie who was still whimperin', "It ain't you fault. The punk sure had it comin' to 'im. But — Jesus! He ain't hardly got no han' left."

"Slim, will we get canned now? We need the stake. Will Curley's ol' man can us now?" George asked lowly as he, too, bent and gingerly examined Curley's hand.

I smiled and knelt down beside to Curley. "You got your senses in hand enough to listen?"

He nodded.

"Well, then listen. I thunk that you got your han' caught in a machine. If you don't tell nobody what happened, we ain't gonna to. But you jus tell an' try to get this here guy canned and we'll tell everybody, an' then will you git the laugh."

"I won't tell," Curley rasped, looking anywhere but at Lennie.

I helped 'im get unto the wagon and then came back to Lennie. "Le's see your hands." He stuck 'em out. And I stared for a moment at his huge paws. Paws that belonged to a goddamed bear, not a workin' stiff. "Christ awmighty, I'd hate to have you mad at me."

So I hope that you guys enjoyed The One with the Hand. I based the title off the F.R.I.E.N.D.S.' episode format, just to contrast it with how antiquated and classic the novel really is. Anyway, Drop me a line about what you thought. :)