I publish these tales here on this site every weekend as mental escape. Enjoy them, but do not steal them. If you do, I will come to your window while you are sleeping, my friend.
Your computer or mobile device is now loading up a whole bunch of chapters. This will slow it down. Please navigate over to the list of chapter numbers on the right, and click on 97, or whatever number chapter you wish to read.
It will load only that chapter. Life will be better.
The "previous" and "next" buttons at the bottom of each page are nice as well. Kinda wondered why next is on the left side, and right is on the other side. We read from left to right, don't we? Whatever.
Here’s a song for you to hear while we embark again. Get your bowl ready, my friend. But, the loud howl of this classic tune illustrates what Joey is about to tell us.
Joey continued. This is what he said:
“Weeee-ill, you know that Jerry and me didn’t know that you guys were all fucked up on a fig tree out in the back orchard. If we did, I promise you, we would have gone and helped you guys out.
“But some assholes come busting in to where me and Jerry and Nolei and Tommy Hewitt were sitting, after the ambulances had left. These were some scary looking dudes. Jerry sees them come pushing their way in through the guys at the door and he stands the fuck up.
“You ever seen Jerry when he looks mad? I don’t think you did yet. No, he looks like a fucking evil clown mask at the Halloween store or some shit. Swear to Gawd. Jerry screams at them, saying, “’Who the fuck are you?’ and they stop the fuck in their tracks.
“I about shit my own pants. They get they shit together and one of them steps forward, says his name is Muy Largo. Dude was big, too, like Jerry, but without all the fat. He ain’t a dumbass, I guess. He walks over and holds out his friggin hand. Says, ‘Me and my buds just want to have a seat and talk with you. That cool?’
“Jerry cools right down. I guess he can make an assessment of a shitiation real quick like that. It’s spooky. He giggled like he does, and I see some of those Muy dudes look at each other like they don’t know what the fuck. But Jerry shakes his hand.
“That Muy Largo sits down at the big dining room table with the rest of us, and his boys all group up behind him. Muy leans forward to whisper something at Jerry. I guess Jerry don’t like people leaning in too close, ‘cause he backs off from Muy and his face gets angry looking. Then check this out. Jerry giggles again. He says, ‘Of course we can match. Line for line. What you got?’
“Muy just stares at Jerry, and one of Muy’s homeys leans in and drops a small bag of blow on the table. It’s all powder, cut up, stepped on. Not like Jerry’s brick. Shit looks like shit, ya know? WEAK. Jerry smiles. Not in a good way. Weeee-ill, that guy has a lot of different ways to creep me the fuck out. Now he is all smiling, and it looks like he has a hundred sharp fangs in his evil grin, but maybe it was the lights or something.
“That guy Muy grabs the crap bag and throws it back over his shoulder without even looking. The dude who brought it out catches it in mid air, and then another dude leans in. This time, a new bag hits the table with a clunk. It’s a fucking brick. So Jerry’s fangs disappear, and we get lined up again. Shit turned out to be pretty fucking good.
“Now we all way up in the air from all this shit, feeling good, starting to get all trembly and hearts racing and stuff from doing so much, and everyone’s gnashing their teeth and has perma-grins plastered on they faces.
“I think Muy wanted to make some kind of deal with Jerry, but it didn’t happen. You can thank Gilbert and his football buddies for that shit. Yup, Gilbert busted in with his buddies, all buzzed out from the beer in them kegs those college kids had out on the deck. Well this freaked out Muy ‘cause he and his crew jump up and they start swinging fists.
“I see Jerry grab both bricks and stuff them inside some sort of back pocket he has in his leather jacket. Then Jerry, well holy fuck, Jerry grabs the china plates and the crystal goblets and he throws that shit at Gilbert and his buddies.
“Dudes got all cut up man! Muy and his boys are swinging fists, Gilbert is whining like a little bitch, and I grab Nolei and Tommy Hewitt and we run to the living room. To get a better seat, ya know. Wasn’t my squabble, Weeee-ill.
“You know what? Jerry picks up that big-ass table and he runs at all of those assholes with it! Yup, he ram-rods them all into the kitchen island thing that has the marble top on it. All them boys got fucked up from that. They go down hard, all gasping for breath, and some look like they arms all smashed.
“But Jerry didn’t stop there. Weeee-ill, you have to watch out for this fucker. I don’t think he has an off button once he gets started. He pulls the broken table off them boys and then he chucks each one of them football players out the fucking sliding glass door.
“He doesn’t stop with them. He tosses Muy and his crew out as well! Then he runs outside. And then shit got ugly. Shit got fucking ugly. Jerry has no off button, you see.
Now get your bowl of beer/smoke/Honeycomb cereal all set, and let's see what happened next, shall we?
The night skies above the desert began to weep, then cry, and then deluge. Rain pummeled the shit out of Fuckno with furious knives. The wind howled, and then shrieked.
Sean’s brother Paul Ant-Knee jogged into Sean’s pre-surgery room just before their mom and the rest of their family strode on in. He grabbed my arms and said, “We need to go back to Tellesco's ranch and finish that shit up. Let’s go now!”
I just looked at him, “That would be stupid.”
He turned his head toward his mother coming into the room. “Ahhhhh Fuck. All right, so be it.”
Sean’s mom went right to his side and touched is face. His eyes opened and he looked around, then he saw his mom next to him and his eyes smiled at her.
She looked at the tube in his mouth and other tubes and wires all connected to her boy and her eyes welled up with tears. Then she turned away from her boy lying in the white bed and looked at each of us in the room now, glancing past Minacca.
She came towards me, singling me out, and stopped right in front of me. Her face was deep red. “You.”
Oh no.
I gulped. “Hah?”
Her fists balled up. “What did you have to do with this? Why are you not under white blankets on a hostibal gurney yourself?!”
I stepped back, but she was only just starting. I looked around at her brothers, and saw that one looked sad for me, another had his eyebrows up, and the third was also red in the face.
She ranted. She railed. She raged.
It was not pretty.
Here is a tune for you while I tell you about a Rant, a Rail, and some Rage.
She put her balled up fists on her waist.
“I knew you were trouble the first day I saw your family move next door.”
I shrank back from a mother’s fury. “Uh, hah?”
She stepped forward again. “You dirty Indians and your drunken tomfoolery. How dare you bring my favorite son into your pitiful, ugly world.”
I began to get a little bit hot under the collar at seeing this interesting, new side of her.
She went on. “When you showed up in the apartment complex we all watched you unpack. You had nothing except clothes in trash bags. Drunken, cheap, broke-ass poor ugly Indians, all of you, feeding off the system.”
What the fuck was she talking about? We weren’t drunks, and those of us who were old enough most certainly were working at jobs.
She pointed at Sean. “Now my favorite one is in the hostibal and he ain’t got no front teefs. It’s all your fault!”
Minacca grabbed my arm and tugged me out the door.
Sean’s mom yelled after me, “Son of a bitch drunken Indian!”
I pulled away from Minacca to charge back in there but Ant Knee came out and slammed the door closed behind him. “No, Will, don’t take the bait. She’s just lashing out.”
“She said some pretty rotten things in there. She called my mom a---“
“She don’t mean it. She’s just being mean and hurtful. Now she’ll turn on my uncles since you’re gone.”
I swallowed my anger and shook my head. “That is one mean bi--- …uh, your mom’s mean, dude.”
Minacca led Ant Knee and me down to the cafeteria for some coffee. As we sat down with old, weak coffee at one of the round tables near the huge windows, we saw ambulances light up their flashing markers and race out of their garage bays. There must have been twenty of them, all leaving at once. Ant Knee took a bite out of his brownie and sipped his coffee. His eyes closed for a moment, and he looked like he was in heaven. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me. “I gotta apologize for my mom’s behavior at you. She’s very emotional.”
I nodded. “It’s cool, Anthony.” I looked down at my coffee. “Sorry about your brother, man. What was he thinking?”
Minacca said, “I’ve known him only for a few weeks, but I can tell you something about him.”
Wha? They had been dating for a few weeks and I found out about it just now? And I’d just met her that very morning?
She went on. “Sean is afraid of nothing.”
I tapped her arm. “You guys been dating for a few weeks now?”
Ant Knee said, “Yeah, Sean’s pretty brave.”
Minacca said to me, “You didn’t know?” Then she looked at Ant Knee and said, “There’s a big difference between bravery and simply being afraid of nothing.”
I answered her. “I would have remembered if he had told me. What the hell?”
Ant Knee said, “What do you mean? Courage is being fearless, fighting when others are running off like scared little bitches.”
Minacca said to me, “So I’m just a big secret?” Then she answered Ant Knee, and this was pretty good, what she said: “It takes a bigger man to face down his fear and overcome it, than it does to just do dangerous shit without regard to anyone’s safety, including your own.”
Ant Knee and I stared at each other. Who was this brainy chick?
Joey later told me about the party after we’d gone figging and then crashed in the night. This is what he said:
“Check this shit out, Weeeee-ill. I introduced Nolei to Jerry, man. We were just finishing up when some folks come barging in hollering about flashlights and first aid kits. Well, it jumped the fuck out of us all, and Jerry, he stands up and screams at them about manners and such.
“But they were focused, man. Well, you know how those folks who live way the hell out in the boonies always have they emergency shit in a big box so they can get everything they need at a moment’s notice? That was were they got what they needed and left.
“We didn’t know it was you guys all fucked up. We didn’t really think much of anything. We were flying, Weeeee-ill. Sorry about that. But these guys were harshing our high. Shit got crazy after they went back outside with those flashlights and first aid kits.
“Did you know that Gilbert and some of his football buddies were there? They were looking for Big Bryan, of course. I left Nolei with Jerry and went looking for Bryan and you guys before Gilbert could find him. Tommy Hewitt said he thought maybe Bryan was hiding in the cellar. That was a pretty cool secret passage way, man. I mean, holy fuck? I was in heaven down there where they had all them wine bottles.
“I was checking out all of that heavenly vulva nectar down there and we grabbed some bottles to bring back up. That’s when the ambulances showed up, well the first batch, that is. I mean, they were like three of them. After shit hit the fan, the next round of ambulances was like fifty or so, all blocking the road. When the LPG exploded, they were all going off into the fig trees to escape the heat. Hahaha! Ambulances going figging man!
Well anyways, me and Tommy Hewitt come out from the secret passage way to the table with no Bryan. We totally forgot about him. Sorry. I keep saying sorry, but you understand Weeee-ill, don’t you? So Jerry, he looks at all this expensive old wine and he stands up with this huge shit-eating grin on his big ugly melon, and he spreads out his arms wide.
“Fucking Jerry says, he says, ‘mi hermanos!’ My brothers. Hehehe. Fucker! He was all happy. Well, we got ourselves all lined up again, you know, Nolei included. Then the ambulances drivers all head off down the road a little bit back towards town, and they must have stopped back near where you guys were all fucked up on top of a fig tree. Someone told them where you were.
But these badass mother fuckers appeared out of nowhere. I think they showed up before the ambulances did. When the ambulances left, these guys came out from under their rocks, or where ever they hid from the flashing lights. These guys looked hard, Weeeee-ill. They looked mean. And they brought the pain.”
Sean had to be cut from his seat belt. These can get jammed in a collision, but you should always wear one. It might be useful to have a seatbelt cutter in your vehicle in case this happens, especially if your vehicle is on fire and you would like to get out.
The Jeep that hung upside down on a fig tree was not on fire. Sean hung there, bleeding from his chest. The steering wheel had crumpled his rib cage, you see. Air bags had not been invented back then.
One of the guys that had come running to help us whipped out a butterfly knife from his boot and opened it up.
I said, “Wait! He’ll fall to the ground!”
We needed to hold Sean up while we extracted him.
Dude weighed a ton.
Knife Guy sawed through the seatbelt from the inside out and Sean fell upon the rest of us. We tried to hold him, but this did not work. It was like trying to push up against a balloon full of wet cement. Instead, we simply softened his blow from hitting the dirt.
These guys groaned from beneath Sean, and struggled to get from underneath him.
I had simply stepped away.
I stood over them and yelled, “You trying to kill him? Get him back to the house!”
I know, asshole.
I scratched an itch on the top of my head and found a clump of mud. My face got wet. One of the guys shined a flashlight in my eyes and I pushed him away.
“What the fuck you doing?”
He shined it back into my eyes. “You’re bleeding bad!”
The desert dust had caked on my head wound and formed an earthen scab, which I’d just dug off.
I was now a blood brother to the San Joaquin River Valley Desert. The world began to slip away.
---------------------
A bee stung my head, and then another one. What the fuck? I opened my eyes and saw bright blue sky.
“Nurse! Hold his arms down. We’re almost done.”
I felt another bee sting on the top of my head and wrenched the blue paper away from my face.
Then an orderly pushed my arms against the gurney. “Mr. Man, hold on. He’s almost finished stitching you up.”
I held on.
+++++++++++++
I met Minacca in the hallway, outside Sean’s room. She hugged me.
“What the hell did you guys do?” she said.
I shrugged like Ronnie Reagan. “I don’t remember.”
Sean lied in his bed under a white cotton blanket. A tube snaked from underneath and coursed down under the bed. The whole room was white, except for two things.
A bag of blood that hung from an I.V. stand with its own red tube, connected to a catheter in his arm, and the other tube that went below the bed.
I pulled the cover back and saw that the other tube went into a large glass bottle that might have held cranberry juice at one time. Back then, glass was popular, you see.
The line was full of blood that seeped down into this large glass container, which was half-full.
It was not a very optimistic site to behold.
Sean had a sucking chest wound, and he had a drain-shunt in his collapsed lung. He was heading for surgery, but they wanted to know if I had any last words for him in case something bad happened.
Something bad was happening at Tellesco’s home at that moment.
Sean’s folks were on the way. This would not be a pretty sight.
“Sean.”
Sean opened his eyes, but he had a huge tube down his throat and he could not talk.
“Sean, what the hell were you trying to do to us?”
Sean closed his eyes.
Damn.
I went to find Bryan. The night nurse showed me Bryan’s room. He was all bandaged up. His eyes looked in two different directions. He was waiting for his jaw to be wired up shut. I wonder if they brush your teefs for you before they do this? It would be gross to have the last meal or candy you ate on your tongue for three weeks.
That is why I always brush my own teefs when I am going up into the mountains for air quality sample collection during the winter. Since I drive at high speeds, and always come close to skidding off the road and crashing, I want to make sure that when I am in traction, I will have fresh breath.
I left Bryan.
The night nurse said, “Would you like to visit your friend Tellesco?”
I nodded. What the hell, why not.
Tellesco was crying. I went to his side and asked him why he was crying.
“Didn’t they give you any pain meds?”
Tellesco looked up at me with his red-rimmed, tearful eyes and hiccupped. “I got Sean hurt. It’s all my fault. Boo Hoo!”
Jeebus. I left him alone with his guilt and went to look for a vending machine.
I wondered what was happening meanwhile back at the ranch.
Listen as you read. It has the perfect beat to this scene.
RadioHead, Lotus Flower. Fuck yeah.
Angry men holding their fists over their heads appeared out of the darkness and flew by with their arms stretched towards us. Left and right, at the same time, and then they were gone.
One ran across in front of us when we turned, and we almost hit him. Then we were traveling south instead of east, and these strange men began to appear again at regular intervals, left and right, going by faster and faster, becoming a blur.
I lied back in the rear bucket of the Jeep, looking up into the stars overhead. Stars move at their own pace, no matter what it is you are doing down on the surface of the Earth.
They move quite slowly if you watch them, and they travel from the east and head west.
I heard Tellesco yell from the front seat. “I love it!”
Tellesco always loved everything. Poor dude was so appreciative of Sean’s friendship with him that he squealed like a pig every time Sean did or said anything at all.
I looked over at Bryan, and saw that his eyes were wide open. He was scared shitless. He had one of his hands gripped with white knuckles on the rear of the Jeep’s bucket, and the other strangling the roll-cage bar. I swear, I could smell---
---the wheels dug in and we came to a stop in a surprisingly short amount of time. Then the dust cloud we’d been creating came up and around us, swaddling us like we were babies nestling in for a nice dirt nap.
I felt quite good from the evenings activities beforehand. Bryan had as well, but he was always up and alert, pleasure begone, at the drop of a Jeep.
Sean revved the engine and turned us around to head west. Evidently, we had come to the edge of the property line. My head swung back as he laid the hammer down and we jetted off.
More of those fig trees that looked like angry men holding their empty fists over their heads began to flash past the sides of the Jeep as Sean drove faster and faster. I wiped dust from my face, spit out mud from my mouth, and blew a couple of snot rockets toward the rear of Tellesco’s front seats. They came back at me in the wind.
I looked up into the night sky again, and wondered where my captain was, the one who had taken me to the moon with a rocket ticket. I wondered what Lorelei was doing at this very moment. I wished her well.
The flashes of fig trees that flew past at increasing speeds were colored red from the tail lights, back here where Bryan and I sat: me lying casually and low, looking up, and Bryan, all wound up tight and hard like a spool of metal cable, with his eyes wide open as if they were screaming out loud.
The stars were gone.
I snuggled in the warm swaddle of the orchard dust and looked over to Bryan, but I couldn’t see him.
The soft, orange ball of light grew brighter, off to my left, as the dust settled. The single headlight glowed with fresh yellow, and then clean white. It was shining directly at the ground, from up high.
This seemed odd. Dust swirls passed by the headlamp, like twirling dervishes, and the Jeep’s single headlamp shined down upon them like a stagehand with a spotlight.
The Jeep was upside down, on top of a fig tree.
We had gone figging, and we had crashed.
Thanks a lot Sean.
Bryan gurgled something from over on my right, but I heard nothing else anywhere. My ears were ringing a little bit. I checked myself. Head, arms, legs, stomach. Nothing seemed to be broken or spurting or hanging out. I felt my back from the inside out, gently, turning.
I dared to move. Mounds of desert orchard dirt fell from my body as I got to my hands and knees. I headed to where Bryan had gurgled. I found him. In the light of the single headlamp from the Jeep which now hung upside down on a fig tree, I could see that his face was fucked up.
His mouth looked weird. He had his hands up around his chin, trying to make the hurt go away. There is no position except “healed” that makes a broken jaw feel better at all.
He was trying to hold it all together and not move.
“Bryan, where is Sean?”
Bryan winced. He looked down. Guess it was up to me to find Sean. Now, I knew that you were supposed to stabilize broken bones, but what the hell was I going to do here for Big Bryan, take off my shirt and wrap up his head in it?
Well, I did. I don’t know if it helped him any, but he laid back down and took a nap.
I found Tellesco. He was sitting there by the tree, and it looked like the tree had slowed him down from the crash. He was awake, sort of aware, and he cradled his left arm in his right, like a baby that looked like a snail. It was in the shape of a snail.
He was whimpering, just staring down at his snail baby, all swaddled in dust for a nap.
I couldn’t find Sean, and my ears were ringing. Then I saw flashlights bouncing along from the behind the Jeep. I supposed, heading west, that we had almost reached the dirt road to Tellesco’s ranch, traveling at high speed, but we were still quite a way from the house.
Folks from the party must have been watching us out there in the lanes and aisles of the fig tree orchard. The night was clear and sharp.
Then they saw and heard the Jeep crash into one of those iron-wood fig trees.
Gobless ‘em. They’d grabbed flashlights and first aid shit to come save us.
---------------------------------------
“Don’t move him. He needs an ambulance. Prop his legs up. Dude’s in shock. Watch out for his arm.”
“This guy has a shirt wrapped around his head? I think I can feel a heartbeat.”
“EEEEEWWWWW! OMIGODOMIGOD THEY LOOK GROSS!”
“Who let Cara come with us?!”
------------------------------------------
I couldn’t find Sean. But I saw cars come zooming down the dirt road, heading to the bonfire that glowed like a supernova out in the black desert, in Tellesco’s back yard..
They went past, booming with the bass of old school rap music. They were not nice people, as it turned out.
Another cloud of dust swept over us all, and then in the silence, I heard someone groan. I went to him. He did not look good. He was still in the Jeep. He was hanging in his seatbelt. He was the only one who had worn it.
That said quite a lot about Sean, and about what he had intended to do.
Folks lined up, and Jerry made hisseff a shit load of money and new permanent customers. Well, continual customers. No one ever seemed to be able to continue dealing or buying such a ware forever. The end would come nigh before very long, you see.
He was quite good at networking, even if he was a freaky giant clown. One thing about his high giggle, it became less odd the more you heard it. Perhaps it was the powder, or maybe it was that he really seemed to enjoy the moment, each moment, whatever he was feeling, even rage, but I think mostly it was that he held no deceit.
What you saw was what you got. A powerful, scary, huge, giggly baby that got pissed off in a split second, who then could turn on a dime and be as sweet as a Riesling. This is a character trait that many do not have, for whatever reason, but it can be endearing if you appreciate knowing where you honestly stand with someone.
We flew.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Sean wore his perma-grin and Bryan was grinding his teeth. Joey flashed his dance moves and his wicked smile. The ladies loved him, as always. They made a Joey sandwich with many ingredients of female condiment.
I wanted to ask Tommy Hewitt about Katheena. He had been trying to tell me something important about her, and now it seemed like the best time to chat. That was the major effect of powder. Everything you thought and felt was of the utmost importance and you needed to let folks know these things. Thing is, so did everyone else.
The immediate vicinity of the cock-punch dining room table became a din of conversation of folks telling each other how good they felt and what mattered to them the most in life and that hey you know what I friggin love you man. Psssshhhhh.
The living room was no better for a good talk, nor was the outside, where the ska band played their music at loud decibels. So, I tugged Tommy along to the secret wine stash.
Yup. He was the first besides me and Bryan to learn about its existence. He would not be the last, unfortunately.
Or, perhaps it was fortunate that the wine got drunken up before the house burned to the ground, which would have left all the wine soaking into the ground from heat-burst bottles, untasted.
Yet, maybe it was a contributing factor to its own demise, and therefore, the house might still stand to this day, if everyone there did not get so intoxicated from those lovely vintages.
Curious.
-----------------------------
“Tommy, I want to know what you were trying to tell me about Katheena earlier, before we sat at the table with Jerry. This is a good place to talk, but I gotta warn ya, here is a sight to behold. Check this shit out.”
At the bottom of the old, iron-hard fig wood stairs, we stood before the door to the wine tomb. I unlatched the wrought-iron hardware of the solid wooden door and we entered. I flicked on the light switch and watched Tommy’s eyes grow huge.
He whistled. “What… The… Fuck…”
I let him drink in the view for a bit.
Of course, he had to go and check out labels.
“Manj Moi Shyen, 1920. This is a rare bitch.” He moved slowly on. “Footwa Voo, 1776. Wow.”
I had to redirect his attention. “Tommy, you went steady with Katheena, huh?”
Tommy nodded while continuing on. “Here’s an old bottle of German Sheetzen Frau Bluherr. Who the hell bought all of these?”
I sighed. “Tellesco’s parents, evidently. Now about Katheena…”
Tommy turned to me with a different bottle in his hand. “I’ve heard about this one. This was in the newspapers a month ago, remember? It sold at auction for almost eighteen hundred dollars for the case. There is only one of them here. What the hell is going on?”
Yes, I guess it was a bad idea to let this cat into the wine lair. Instead of finding a quiet place to talk about Katheena, I had shown him a great treasure. And now I had to kill him.
I kid you. But that might have kept things from happening as they did.
Tommy held it to his chest. “There are wines here that no one knows still exist in the world. May we partake of this one?”
Why did everyone at this fucking party know about wines as much as they did, and I did not? Was everyone a closeted oeneophile for chissakes?
I shrugged. “Why the hell not. But we don’t have cups to drink it in.”
Tommy grinned. “There are some up in the stairwell, in some cases hanging on the wall.”
I smiled. “I’ll grab a couple. Then you have to tell me about Katheena. Promise me.”
He nodded solemnly. “Over this bottle of 1903 Sauternes from Château d'Yquem, I promise.”
Well, good.
He sat on a couple of stacked crates and motioned for me to sit across from him on some others. These were unopened. Who knew what unknown treasures awaited inside?
I wonder if anyone ever found out, and if so, did they appreciate them as much as they deserved?
He began his tale about Katheena while uncorking the bottle with one of the corkscrews that hung from the stairwell walls. He let it breathe as he spoke in muted tones, and it was evident that he felt strong emotion about his subject.
Then he poured some of this vintage into the wine glasses.
The wine tasted like apple juice poured through a snake's piss bladder. I grimaced. Tommy chuckled. “I think the powder drain is messing with the flavor.”
I would have to agree.
This is what he told me.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
“When I first saw Katheena, it felt like someone had gut punched me. I know that she is quite attractive and all, but there was something beyond that for me. It was the way that she held herself. She seemed to be at once both highly aware of her surroundings, and yet strangely unconcerned.
“It was a bluff, you know. Katheena is very careful. She selects her prey according to her own volition, and then she executes her well-crafted plan. Nothing is by accident with her.”
Tommy paused and tasted more of the old wine. I couldn’t stomach any more of it, but my ears were thirsty for more of what he had to tell me about Katheena.
He went on.
“That there is the rub. Katheena knows what she is doing. It’s been said that a true gentleman never unintentionally hurts the object of his affection. There is some sense in what that means. And it pertains to her, here.”
I really did not know what the hell he was saying, but it seemed to matter to him a lot. I guess I wanted to know something else, something that would matter to me.
Me me me. Immature, no?
“I wanted to tell you something about her that I found out. I told Joey, and swore him to secrecy, and now I must ask you to swear to secrecy as well, for the information you are about to hear. Will you do this?”
What the hell? Katheena was hot and all, but maybe I didn’t give a shit about this weird dude’s pact. Then again, since I didn’t give a damn, why the hell not “swear to secrecy” and all that crap?
So I did.
He told me, “Katheena is a lesbian.”
Well, I can tell you mista, you could hear a pin drop in that wine tomb. Of course, you could hear a pin drop in there any time you wanted to, but this news left my jaw hanging.
I sure could use a drink at that moment, so I chugged the wine in my glass. Tommy nodded.
I said, “What the hell? How do you know this?”
He sipped his own wine. “They are referred to as lipstick lesbians. These women are the ultra of their gender. They are the Mesomorphs of their kind.”
“Mezzo-lesbo?” It was beyond comprehension, this whole discussion.
Tommy chuckled and sipped his wine. “Let’s put it this way. She is a bisexual, but she prefers women.”
Upstairs, the ska band finished their last song. I flicked the light switch off and closed the door to the tomb that would be re-opened on the third day of this party, when the bones of Tommy Hewitt were found in the ashes by the fire marshal detective.
There was no door anymore at that time, just a pile of caved-in burnt house. This was where Tommy had hid himself when the gangs started shooting at each other, you see. He had become trapped there, poor soul, when they set the house on fire.
--------------------------------
I followed Tommy up and we closed the wall panel behind us to go look for the others. Jerry held court at the cock-punch table, and many fresh faces were jockeying in the queue with ones who were fiending for more of his powdery wares. But my brothers were not there.
Outside, they were helping the punk band to get set up. Tommy and I followed suit, but I could not take my mind off of Katheena.
Tommy had rocked my little world.
LINKS
I didn’t know that we had some of these U.S. Presidents?Disney World’s Hall of Prezzes.The Jefferies…hehehe
So now, some want to prevent foreign visitors to our USA from coming here while pregnant and giving birth.This makes their kid a USA citizen. That’s the way it’s always been.Why change it?Ya think?
Antidote, dogs and robots will never get along.Dogs will save us.Yay, dogs.
If you recall, I had almost drowned in the pool the first night of this three day party, but then traveled to the stars, thanks to the strange-looking punk Jerry.
Lorelei was on the Night Flight that crashed to Earth over the Atlantic, just before reaching France, on the way to its destination in Germany. She went to the bottom of the sea. I would like to think she stayed in flight, and went straight up to the stars. Amen.
Those who had watched this tragic news on the Music Tele-Vision (MTV) cable channel did not know she had been on that flight, nor did I until later.
They simply heard about a jet crash from the MTV Video Jockey (VJ) while I was down in the ground, underneath the house, looking at expensive vintages of wine and cigars with Bryan.
When I finally did find out this sad news, the long, ranch-styled home had burned to the ground from the gunfight, which began while we punks were out "figging."
Now get your head ready for the culmination of this latest chapter, won't you?
Night Crash
Bryan, Sean, Tommy Hewitt and I sat across from Jerry, while many others looked on.
Jerry took up the whole side of the cock-punch dining room table with his back to the wall. He had three dusty bottles of reds aligned on the table along with an empty crystal goblet that had deep angles cut into it, criss-crossing and glinting in rainbow colors under the bright light of the overhead chandelier.
The walls were tall in this stately ranch, and the tomb was even deeper.
Joey came in through the sliding glass door, and Jerry stood up.
"Who the fuck let him in?!"
The punk band's drummer waved his hands at Jerry. "Dude, he says he knows these guys."
Joey stepped forward and peered over our shoulders, and his eyes went big when he saw the large chunk of white snow on the kitchen table. "Holeeeeee Fuck meeeee."
Jerry was ready to break bones, and he glared at us. "This true?"
I stood up and said, "Hey, no worries, Jerry. That's why I introduced you to him. Joey is one of us."
Joey just grinned. He was cocky like that.
Jerry gave me the willies again. He giggled. "Of course. Please forgive me. There is a lot of bad business here. Please sit." He could turn on a dime, in more ways than one.
Joey abided.
So, we had a Ska band playing on the rear deck, with a Punk band to follow after, and there was a huge bonfire erupting, which warmed everyone up outside.
This was during the winter in a high desert valley, and even though it was warm for those of us who do not live in such a hot place, well, when night falls, it can get cold.
There might be snow. Ya think?
Tellesco's home had this heated swimming pool out back, off to the left, and the bonfire roared about fifty yards away in the vast expanse of the back yard, and beyond that, another half a football field away, sat acres of fig tree orchards, planted in aisles and rows, like ski slaloms.
One might consider coursing through them at high speeds in a Jeep with a really powerful engine.
But that could end up disastrous.
The nearest neighbors were a mile away on either side. We were truly alone, out in the desert.
But, because of the huge bonfire, it became easy to find for some bad people who wanted to cause damage to folks at this party.
Like, a guy whose Once Lovingly Adorned Home had been fucked up, and he, Gilbert, wanted revenge against Bryan.
Like, a guy who got mad about his treatment for wiping his hands on a drape, and he hated Jerry from before.
Like, some dealers who wanted in on the selling of wares...
...And they brought armament.
It also stood, glowing in the night sky, as a beacon for the hundreds of people who were showing up all night long.
Word had gotten out, you see.
And it got ugly.
Fucking ugly.
Some guys had brought many kegs of beer and were charging folks ten dollars for a blue plastic cup, free refills.
Others were holding court on picnic tables spread around the bonfire. Tellesco's parents held many cook-outs and barbecues throughout the year for their friends and business partners.
They were rich old fucks who knew how to party quite well.
Upon these picnic tables sat folks who had brought along their own wares, and it was a barbecue of a different sort.
If one had brought cash along for such a party, there were many illicit materials for one to check out.
--------------------
Now before we go on, it must be said here that your friend willies does not advocate drug use. Drugs are bad. Do not use drugs. This is simply a description of a time, 25 years ago, when a young fellow entered a dark period of his life, but eventually, he found redemption.
That is the point of these stories I have been telling you all this time.
Just Say No.
Do Not Enter.
--------------------
Well let me tell you my friend, Joey finally found his true love.
Sean's own true love would be a purification of this nasty whore of a white powder which would appear later on along our path, and she would completely wreck him.
But for tonight, well, holy fuck.
We were all like school kids and Jerry was the scary clown/teacher, showing us how to ride the rails. He had a big train.
Sean awoke.
Bryan woke the hell up.
Joey began to dance.
Me? I just could not help myself. My body told me no, but I wanted more.
Remember, you will always want more, looking for the first high, and you won't ever get it, and then you will end up looking for more, and then you are fucked.
Sean's brother Ant Knee leaned in, and that was when the rest of those who were hovering over us began their schooling.
Some were old school.
We were feeling so good that Sean wanted to take we bastards to the figs.
Figging.
But we held off for a bit.
Joey, well, his eyes were open.
In more ways than one.
HERE WE GO
Jerry giggled and smiled at us as he read from the label of the first bottle of wine.
"Gateaux DuFromage Au Benwaa Ballse Bordeaux. 1832." Jerry poured from this bottle, one of three which had been breathing for a little while. He said, "The ritual that one performs before experiencing any intoxicant is as important as the experience of the intoxicant itself."
He would turn out to be quite right, I found out later on, but for now, I thought he was just wasting time.
He swirled it in the goblet. He sniffed it. He tasted. He inhaled over the wine in his mouth, and swallowed. The he tasted his tongue. He ejaculated all over the table.
I kid you.
Jerry did not ejaculate the way that you might think after doing this ritual. He simply told us all about the excellence of the flavor from this old vintage.
Which was pretty boring.
But he set the goblet down and began a new ritual. This involved a small tea strainer and pistle, which is grinding tool, and before you new it, there was a small hill of white powder upon the bone china plate, next to a razor blade.
He looked up at we five bastards who sat across from him. "Who's first?"
The others looked at Bryan, for this was his party. And Bryan nodded.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
This here is how much can be written for a day, here at Blogger.
Unless you don't want links, that is.
LINKS
Space Shuttles will be no more. Sad for those of us who once wanted to ride one of them to the stars. But here are some facts about them. Did you know that their on-board computers originally had as much computing power as a calculator?
Jungle battle! Um, between butterflies and vines… But science. Yay!
Cool alternative energy supplies from around the globe.
8 Best open source apps, and why you should use them.
Tommy Hewitt took me aside. “Joey is an old friend of mine. You are Joey’s friend. A friend of my friend is a friend to me.”
That was peculiar, but not too weird. “Yeah, Joey is the first friend I met at McClang High. Dude can frigging dance. Chicks love him.”
Tommy said, “Yup. They sure do. But he loves them more. Especially one.”
The bonfire awoke with a loud swoosh of gasoline ignition. But even as my face began to grow hot from the flames half a football field away, I just stared at him. I knew what he meant.
He went on, looking into the fire. “Katheena was a freshman when we first met, but she was already a firebrand.. She must have earned her wings in junior high, or somewhere else, because she took over the school from the beginning.”
I thought of how she walked through the halls of C.L. McClang High in her leather jacket, with the belt undone, hanging to the left, smacking everyone in the thigh or balls as she passed. Her trademark was that she didn’t give a fuck.
But she had not met her mettle, yet.
“Yeah, I can imagine, Tommy.”
He turned to me. “It’s one thing to imagine, but it’s another to be fucked over. You agree?”
I had to agree.
Then he said, “Well, let me tell you what I figured out about her. It made things a little better.”
Bryan tugged Sean along and they stopped in front of Tommy Hewitt and me. “Hey you two, ya gotta come check out something.” Bryan was clear and concise, all of a sudden.
Yup.
Sean reached out his hand, “Hi. You’re Tommy, right?”
Tommy smiled and shook Sean’s hand. “I guess my reputation precedes me. You must be Sean.”
Sean nodded. “This is Bryan’s party, so anything he says, goes. Now he’s telling me to get naughty. But I won’t get naughty without Willie Boy here. What d’ya say, Willie Boy? Ya wanna get naughty?”
Tommy’s eyebrows went up, but I only laughed. “Fuck yeah.”
++++++++++++++++++++++
Jerry took up the whole side of the dining room table, with his back to the wall. I don’t know how you feel about it, but that is how I sit at a table in a restaurant or any place that isn’t my own home. Well, OK, I sit that way at home as well. Eyes on the doors.
Never leave your back unprotected. When others depend upon you for their safety, then you must not let them down. Your back is to the wall, so you can keep an eye on things.
Jerry motioned folks to make room for me and Sean. “Hey,” he said, and motioned for us to sit across from him. He did not giggle. In fact, he was kinda scary. Well, more than usual. He was the focus of everyone’s attention. He liked that.
I guess he always did. Why the hell does anyone wear leather with spikes, chrome shin guards on their boots and drive a fucking hearse as a personal automobile?
To get attention. But if you do it in this manner, then you should be ready for a fight.
Jerry loved to fight.
He would have plenty of fun tonight.
We fuckers sat down at the cock-punch table and started a new tribe. This would not be a good thing.
No links for you today. Just the Big Game. Get your ribs and wings going baby.
See you next time, here at Richie Fowler’s Mighty TDC.
Well hey there. Sick of snow? Well, here's a tale to give you a mental vacation in a sunnier clime, 25 years ago, back when the world was innocent.
Yeah, right.
This next part was supposed to be posted for you last Sunday, but it wasn’t good enough. Maybe it is now.
Song from my lady to you, for this next part. Get yourself all shitiated.
Katheena lived up to her word. A small car zoomed down the country lane on the outskirts on the upper west side of Fuckno, Califuckyourfacein, and slowed before it came up to the multitudinous vehicles parked among fig tree rows and along the sides of the road.
These cars were increasingly covered with dust from new approaches, and the ones that had arrived the earliest were the ones now caked with it the most.
Many more would be coming.
This driver evidently knew enough to slow down a bit before arriving so that the dust cloud behind him was quite small. He must have delivered to some rich old fucks that lived in stately ranches on the outskirts of this high desert valley megalopolis at least once before.
It only takes one time to learn a lesson when someone is shouting at you, huh? No one wants to eat dust on their Thai food.
This guy ended up staying. He was now the life of the party.
You know that the one who feeds a party is the one who makes the party.
Among the obligatory platters of spicy chicken wings, steamed white and house fried rice, spring rolls, savory beef skewers and such, there was also one of many large containers of various combinations of awesomnality that held my personal favorite: Gaeng Ped Dang, tender chicken in red curry coconut cream, with tender potato chunks, bamboo shoot slices, tomatoes, Thai eggplant, and some sweet green leaves of some sort.
Gawdamn, son. Shit was five star hot. Amen and give me some napkins so I can wipe my forehead.
Katheena had indeed lived up to her word, if not her mettle. She supplied the food. She was missed by those who knew her. She would have had herself a time.
Folks helped this guy carry his wares in through the garage to the large dining room table which would cock punch you if you were not careful.
Those in the immediate vicinity began to drool, but a few of them did something curious. They stuck their hands in their pockets and looked down, or away. Cheap bastards.
This was an odd thing to see. Anyway, I went up to this delivery guy and said, “Hey there, how you doing?”
He looked surprised, but then he smiled and said, “Not bad. How are you?”
Yeah, who cares about the delivery guy, huh?
I asked this guy his name and he said, “Long Duk Dong.”
Then everyone ate.
I kid you.
He said his name was Than. Then he said the best thing ever to a crowd of hungry bastards. “This food is compliments of The Ipumbel Cay, in honor of Bryan. Please eat our food and be well.”
Folks took their hands out of their pockets and began to line up, all smiling.
Tellesco and Minacca brought dishes and silver ware to the table, and I told everyone to let the guest of honor have first preference. Of course, Bryan was buzzed out, but he sure could use some food at this point.
It did him well.
Sean stood tall and crossed his beefy arms against all the others, and waited until Joey and I and our circle of friends and fiends get our plates loaded up.
Next, he let the band members dig in. Finally, he allowed those who had helped Than carry the containers in to the dining room pile up their own plates.
Then Sean loaded up. That there, my friend, is the practice of true leadership. The Chief lets the elders and children eat first, then the populace, and he eats last, in order to ensure that all will eat.
But in this case, he was not the last.
We left the rest to the free-loaders, the scavengers, and the hands-in-pockets.
Than wasn’t hungry, but he was thirsty. Boy, could that guy drink.
Jerry saw someone wipe his greasy hands on the living room drapes and picked him up by the arms. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He glared into the poor dude’s eyes, shaking him. “You need to get the fuck out. You have no respect for this house.”
He set the guy down, but I could see something about him; I could tell he was restraining himself. This sent a clear message to those in the immediate area about respect. But it sent a clearer message to me that Jerry was on the edge.
Jerry was always on the edge. I would find out. You will, too.
This sent the clearest message to the poor dude, who turned white and walked out the front door. This guy would be back later, after he stewed about his treatment for a while, even if he didn’t have PTSD from this event.
I walked over to Jerry and tried to get a sense of what the fuck. “Holy shit, Jerry?”
Jerry giggled and said, “Oh, sorry about that. Was he a friend of yours? Is it OK to wipe our hands on curtains and furniture and perhaps the family dog?”
I shook my head. “Of course not, and thanks for watching out for Tellesco’s home. But that was kind of harsh. Ya think?”
Jerry didn’t giggle. He stared at me for a long moment, and then he whispered, “You haven’t seen ‘harsh.’ You haven’t seen anything at all.”
This gave me the willies.
Jerry giggled and said, “I mean, that fucker won’t be rude like that without thinking first, will he?”
I said, “No, he probably won’t wipe his hands on drapes ever again.”
Jerry simply said, “Nope. He won’t be rude again until it is absolutely necessary.”
Huh. That was weird.
Night began to fall, and while I followed good old staggering Bryan down to the hidden vault of wine for some more bottles, my friends were upstairs, and someone turned on the large rear-projection television set in the living room.
Above, we could hear many feet shuffling and loud laughter, and then they were silent.
Now all I could hear was the sound of Bryan murmuring to himself as he read the labels of vintages that some old rich world travelers had amassed with joy in their eyes, and we were exploiting these treasures with out truly appreciating them.
Sometimes we do not truly know what something is worth to us until it is lost, stolen, wasted, gone?
Bryan pulled the cork on a bottle, and somewhere near France, an angel had fallen to Earth, into the sea.
-----------------------------------
“Yes, there are certain things which must remain hidden from the dark of night, and discovered anew, when the day grows bright.”
Above, our friends were quiet as they listened to the televison.
They were watching breaking news on the cable Music Tele-Vision station, which was what they used to air sometimes in between music videos, back when they broadcasted live, and when something tragic had happened.
A Night Flight jet fell from the air before reaching France, heading from the USA towards Germany.
An angel fell to Earth, to the bottom of the sea.
-----------------------
"Bryan."
"Hey there Will. I found a bottle hidden way on the top shelf, and it looks really old."
"Bryan, what do you think of Jerry?"
"I dunno, I mean, he woke me the hell up last night. Then we had some more fun. He's OK I guess."
"Doesn't he seem a bit weird?"
"Well fuck yeah! Weird purple hair and he's dressed like that Predator Alien or someshit."
I walked over to find Bryan studying this new area of the vast tomb of wine shelves. "You know, I think he's dangerous."
Bryan turned with another bottle in his hands and he woke the hell up. "You do?" He was quick like that.
"Yup. I saw him pick a guy up and scream in his face for wiping his hands on some drapes."
Bryan's eyes crinkled. "Well, that's cool. He's not dangerous to us then, is he?'
I thought about that.
This time we didn't drop any bottles. I stopped at the secret panel and listened with my ear to the wood. Folks passed by talking, and then it seemed safe. So I pressed against it with my armload of reds and whites and it swung out.
In the kitchen we found no one. Good. Bryan pushed his rear against the panel to close it.
Outside you could hear the ska band warming up with their sound down. All you could hear was the drummer and the muted tones of the guitars and the trumpet.
Minacca came in from the living room with an armload of dirty plates. Instead of bitching about careless losers and their mess, she simply placed them on the counter and turned back to us.
"That's a lot of dusty wine bottles. Where did you get them?"
Chick dug to the bone. I said, "Well, it's a secret."
She simply nodded. "OK. You should know that some guys showed up with kegs. You might not be needing those?"
Bryan smiled. "These are for me."
Minacca laughed, and it was cute; it sounded like wine glasses tinkling to a cheer. "You must be pretty thirsty, Bryan."
Bryan set the wine bottles down on the quartz marble counter and said, "I'm going to be thirsty in a few days, and for a while. I'm stocking up against that."
Gobless him.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
In the backyard, Sean and some other folks were piling up a mountain of aged fig tree wood. Bryan and I went over to him.
I said, "You know, Sean, it takes a while for the fire department to get out here."
Sean patted me on the back. "Who gives a fuck?"
The delivery guy Than appeared out of nowhere with two blue plastic Solo cups in his hands, full. "What a beautiful night, huh?"
Sean reached for one of them. "Thanks man. All this work makes a man build up a thirst."
Than stepped back. "Hey dude, there's more over there."
Sean studied him for a second, then he laughed. "A double fister after my own heart."
I guess Than was nobody's bitch.
"Sean."
He looked at me. "What's up, Willie boy? Gonna help out with all this old fig wood?"
"Yeah, sure, but what do you think about that Jerry guy?"
Sean muttered, "Dude's a fucking freak. I've got my eye on him."
I felt relief. Of course Sean would be on the alert. But it was good to hear him say it.
Bryan lifted his bottle to his lips. Dude wasn't bothering with glasses anymore.
Sean let out another laugh. "What you got there this time, Big Bryan?"
Bryan wiped his purple lips and held it out to Sean. Sean finished the bottle and rubbed his Buddha belly. He burped. "Now that is some fine-ass grape kool-aid."
--------------------
More people began to show up. The ska band threw the volume up and began to play.
Those guys with the kegs were charging people ten dollars for a blue plastic cup, free re-fills. Lines formed.
More lines would be forming, of another sort.
Then we would go figging.
Then the bad guys would show up.
And that is the next, final part of the Night Flight Series, my friend.
Shit got fucking ugly.
LINKS
New tribe, undiscovered. Welcome brothers, to a new fucked up world for you.
Achoo! Sorry about that. Nice knowing you.
Speaking about tribes, what about protecting your own tribe? As in, trade-marking the Palin name, thank you Sarah and Bristol? I’m paling as we speak.
Ya know, when you glean your movie director skillz from having worked at a place where folks once actually had to travel to in order to rent something called a "VHS" tape cassette in order to watch a movie, then you should not be called to the mat for stealing. When it is done very well, then it is called "Homage," which is a French term describing reverence, a referral to the art of which you have studied, back when you were "borrowing" from your place of work. Hacks steal, you see. True artists "Borrow."
Here's Q.T. vs the many films from which he borrowed in order to create the classic "Kill Bill" duplex of complexes. A mash-up.
Pour/pack-puff/rip open that bag of Cheetos;do whatever it is you do when you come to Richie's mighty TDC for a weekend tale.No one here will look twice at you for your enjoyment of imbation, my friend.
Shit is about to get ugly.
You might want to reread a bit from last weekend to get your mind into this fucked up game.
This video is for the psychopath I had been introduced to at this three day party a night ago. "I don't care about anyone else but me.......Gawdamn, I love ME."
Crank this bitch up.
So, I walked through the garage to the front of Tellesco's long ranch-style home (which was out in the country side of Fuckno) to get a breath of fresh air that smelled like freshly mowed lawn and cow shit from the neighboring fig tree orchards.
There were some other folks out there, smoking cigarettes and chatting.
Vehicles lined the driveway, the dirt road, and some were parked among the fig trees across from this home.Fig trees are built like vibranium alloy, due to their slow growth over decades, and they do not grow all that tall.Especially when they are pruned to remain short and stout.
There was a hearse in the driveway that had a Misfits skull on the hood and a circle A on the door.
Well, I was quite taken aback.Who the hell drives a hearse, for crissakes?
You know that from previous tales, but to see a hearse always gives one a start.
If you are new here, allow me to tell you a bit about what has been written about Jerry from previous tales here at TDC.
He eventually joined our small band of pirates, (punks, if you prefer) and this was both bad and good.Bad is to be an enemy of such a fellow. Good is to have him on your side, so that he wasn't targeting you. Well, even to have him around wasn't all that good.
Perhaps there is no good in knowing a psychopath. According to the DSM IV, they are odd but charming, and at the utmost, they never truly have empathy for anyone else, although they appear to.It's all about them.But, they will always bring the pain.
They are also narcissistic.
This means that they do not care about anyone else but them.
And, they love themself. No one else.
OK, it's never a good thing.You will see in a bit.
---------------------
A space vehicle the color of a nasty bruise came flying down the country lane, raising a big cloud of dust behind it.It was a friggin K-car, a four door granny car with windows up.
Joey, as it turned out, was always and will always be quite fond of wine.This did not bode well for the Secret Stash.It did not bode well for the party, or did it?
I think that he may have been drinking wine.
This car began to slow from its racing speed on the dusty lane, then turned in just past the cars parked on the other side of the cement driveway, and screeched its wheels.There was not enough driveway to stop it.
I stepped back in time.
The car swerved to my right and the wheels weren't moving, but the car still was.
The front lawn stopped the car.
Shredded grass flew up around it in reverse rooster tail from the front, and then the doors were flung open.
The cloud of dust blew up onto the driveway and swept over everyone who was there.
Which included me, all freshly showered.Not any more.Fucker.
Now we all looked like we were in a Road Warrior movie, or perhaps from a classic Tom Petty music video that once played on a certain Music Television Video cable channel; I forget the name of it…
The space ship occupants exited their vehicle on this new planet.
Joey came up and shook my hand.This was a practice that Bryan instigated, instead of hand jive, which is high fives and such, and instead, the way that men who are solid greet each other.
Nolei stepped forth and I smiled. She did, too, and we both tasted the grit of the dust.We hugged, and I instantly missed her German compatriot.
Joey turned and introduced his buddy."This is Tommy Hewitt."
I coughed from the dust and shook hands with Tommy, and told him, "Hi.Welcome to this new planet."
He just smiled.He would have many stories of his own to tell us.
A familiar girl came forth from Little Lion Man's spaceship.
Joey said, "This is Felissa.She is Tommy's date."
What
The
Fuck
?
This was the girl whom I'd befriended in the bushes at MickFucklane High and who...
Well,
It did not bode well, my friend.But you are strapped in for the ride, so let's just continue on, shall we?I promise you that it won't hurt a bit...
This is not Tellesco's Ranch.This is tdcwillies' story house.Enter, if you dare.
Punkidote here.
"Little Lion Man!"I clapped Joey on his back, quite hard, but he didn't get it."How nice of you to bring some fiends. This will be a very interesting party. Fuck."
Felissa noticed that, of course.
Joey flashed his devilish smile."What you been up to Weeeeee-ill?"
I grimaced.
"I've been up to the stars.With a devil as my pilot."
Fuck.
+++++++++++++++++++
I introduced Joey to those I knew, and then left his gang of fiends to go look for Bryan and Sean.
I found Sean."Sean, Joey's here.I need to ask you something about Jerry. Felissa is here, too."
Sean looked me up and down and said, "Damn, Willie Boy.Why do you always look like you just came back from the moon?"
I looked down at the dust on my clothes. "Shit.Joey don't know how to drive on a dirt road.Shit."
Sean laughed and this made his Buddha belly quiver like a bowl of jelly, Santa-style.
A tall, very pretty girl came in through the front door and headed directly to Sean.She hugged him, smiling at him in a secret way with her light brown eyes, and he slapped her ass when she then walked away.
“Sean, who is that?”I asked him, watching her head to the sink in the kitchen to help Tellesco wash dishes.She had long brown hair, sort of wavy down her back, and it stopped just above her little butt.
Sean said, “That is Minacca.”He smiled, eye-balling her.
“How do you know her, Sean?”
Sean looked at me with fun in his eyes.“From last night, and all night, and all this morning.Heheheh.”
Oh.
I got a clue, not a tale, but it was interesting nonetheless.
She was the one who had made the dent in his pillow, his bed, and in his brain.She'd flown off in her own vehicle back to home to clean up, only to return after the dust had settled from Joey’s arrival, and before hundreds more showed up.
Imbation had beheld these two the previous night, (which is now a term to be used for drinking too much,) and that was when they had partaken of each other.
Huh.
Guess I had a few things wrong about him and Tellesco.
Joey met Jerry, and he was shocked when Jerry giggled like a crazy clown with an axe.
Little Lion Man took me aside."What the fuck is up with that dude, dude?"
I bent close to his head."He's the one who drove the hearse here."
Joey frowned as I grimaced.He said, "We gonna need more wine."
Bryan slapped us both on the backs which made us jump.His lips were purple.
"Ssshhhhay guysss!"
Oh shit.Bryan had gotten into the wine already.And you know what would happen next.
Yup.
More powder.
Hell, it was his party after all, huh?
LINKS
Now, you know how much your friend tdc willies enjoys science and space and such.So, this next link is mindful of the event that occurred 25 years ago, and dedicated to the awesome space explorers who have the best job ever, and to the families of We Americans who perished during the Challenger Disaster.
On another note, hear much about Julian Strange of WikiPiss fame and the “Anonymous” hackers who disrupted services for a short period of time at several world-wide online sites?
