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Tuesday, March 26, 2013


La Vie En Rose  by Louis Armstrong  





Big Bryan had said, “Will.  I came back for you guys.  You are why I came back here.  You are why I have been in jail all this time.  You did all this.  You’ve started a war.  So, what is the next step in your plan?”

The Glinty was coming down the trail, and I knew it was him.  I just didn't know what this meant.  But I found that I had a clue.

It had something to do with Sean, who was acting all weird now.

Of course, I didn't know how weird he had become.

But I would soon find out.

War had begun, in that desolate desert megalopolis of Fuckno.

We carried Tellesco together and dragged him up into the cab.  For once, he wasn't sitting bitch.  We slid him over the wide bench seat, across to the other side against the passenger door.  He was groggy from his fight with the Purple Robes, from the cold breath of a girl new to death, and a solid punch to his head from another large man: Big Bryan.

But he would wake the hell up.  Things would be getting pretty clear to him now, and to us all.

An old cowboy ghost was riding a carriage hearse with Catherine wheels towards us, drawn by a mighty black horse with a mane of blue flames.  The horse was called Mayhem.

Mayhem awaited us all.

I sat down next to Tellesco and Big Bryan got behind the steering wheel of the semi rig.

He looked at the dials and said, “She’s getting hot.  She ain't long for this world.  But she has some life left.”

He pushed the triple shift button down low and set her in reverse, and then he pressed her petal towards the mettle with a delicate touch, and we moved away from the mess in front of her grill.

The black semi rig was connected to the cars all piled up in front of her, all smashed by her, and the ones in front were connected to her grill.  He pressed down more on the accelerator, and the eight wheels behind us (two huge tires on each end of the two axles) well, they began to hum and then squeal on the tar driveway.

Bryan took her out of gear, and put her into low first.  He chugged her forward and the smashed pile of cars in front of us howled with broken metal pain.

He sped forth a bit and then swung the gear back into reverse while the momentum of the car pile kept going forth.  When he did this, the front end of the semi rig tore away and hung against the pile of smashed metal before us.

He floored the her petal and her bumper came away as well,  hanging there on the pile, and one end of the bumper dragged a car with it out of the wreck.

He stopped the semi, drove forth a bit and the sound was like the shriek from a newborn.

He stomped on the brake petal, held down the clutch and gunned the engine.  He looked over to me and said, “Duck down.  Something heavy might come this way.”

I did, and he stared straight ahead with the engine roaring with higher howls and coolant and oil dumping out on the ground.

Then he let the clutch go and the rear wheels shrieked, digging into the tar.

The semi lurched us back.  We both went forward.  I hit the foot well and Bryan hit the steering wheel.

The semi broke free of the car in front with the sound of metal rivets busting and pinging the cars in front of us.

Free at last.

I looked over Tellesco who said, “Who’s banging pans?”

Over his slumped shoulders the tiny blue spark below the foothills had disappeared. 

Mayhem and the Glinty were heading towards us.

We needed to collect Joey (whom I called Joseph back then, and whom I refer to as The Lion Man).

The truck swung herself to the right as we went back and we swung left inside the cab.  Tellesco fell over on top of me and Bryan shouted.

He said, “Steady!”

Tellesco pushed himself off of me as we spun around.  He said, “Sorry Mr. Will.  I feel dizzy..."

Bryan whipped the wheel around and put that old iron bitch into gear.  We were now heading back out down the driveway toward the old country lane.

We didn't have much life left in this old rig, but she was ready to give up her last breath for us.

Just like my first car, Matilda.

Bryan said, “Which way?”

I said, “Hah?”

He said, “Left or right?  Where is Joey?”

I said, “Turn right!  Head south!  He’s near a power station!”

Bryan entered the old country lane and we were going to Joey.

We were going to collect him.

Red Eyed And Blue   by Wilco  

Tellesco said, “How do I be a King?”  He was murmuring to himself.

I looked back behind us, out of the high, narrow glass in the rear wall of the cab.  There was no sign of the Glinty coming our way.  Yet.

I don’t know if I felt relief or disappointment.  I just knew that what I felt most was hesitation.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to go forth with any of this.

The future was uncertain, and it was like standing on a precipice before a deep chasm.

Hell, I had lost my little bag of white powder.

I’d dropped it in the pool of scorching-hot oil and boiling coolant from the black beast we now rode.

Amazing, the power the powder had held over me.

I actually wanted to go back and try to retrieve it.  I remembered that it was me; I had poured it out.  What was I thinking?

I should have kept it and then I would still have it.  It would give me courage now, when I needed it most.

I would---

Bryan stomped the brakes and turned us on a dime.  A tiny red light on the power station building marked out target.

We sped forward without headlamps or even a front end, down the small driveway to the structure.

Indeed, the semi rig was bare on the front end, showing her tits.

Bryan stomped and locked her brakes, and we skidded until we stopped.  He opened the door and climbed out and hopped down to the tar.  He left the motor running because it might not start again.

I followed him down.  Tellesco muttered behind me, “I want chili fries and a Coke.”

The structure was lit from overhead by the red light from the moon above, and it was a mess. Something had happened to it.  The ass end of a huge truck stuck out from the side, and a single red light bulb glowed from the door nearby the hole.

The red light bulb was protected by a tiny metal cage about it, and it was probably powered by battery.  We didn't know that almost everything in Fuckno was powered now by batteries.  We didn't know that Joey had caused everything in the huge desert city to go dark when he smashed that white-painted utility truck into this power station.

We didn't know that he was a hero.

I looked around.

Our little truck was gone.

Joey had flown the coop.



He had fucked us?

I couldn't believe it.

Our escape vehicle was fucking gone.

Like my powder was.

I screamed.  I roared.  I was pissed.  I said, “FUCK!”

The semi rig's engine started to shudder.  It began to make loud, metallic grinding noises and the ground rumbled from it.  Then the radiator whistled like a chorus of birds. 

Big Bryan pulled me away from the front of the semi just when all of her hot breath burst out in a spray of high temperature steam and we rolled onto the side of the little tar driveway.

The huge beast shuddered and howled and screamed.  The windows and glass blew out from the cab.  With a mighty CLANG the air in the desert was silent again.

The engine had melted into a solid chunk of iron.

It glowed red, beneath the chassis, from where we lied in the dirt.  Steam hissed and sputtered and died down.  I could see the red glow of the engine.

All was lost.

We were alone.

Tellesco tottered up in the cab and said, “Where's my fries?”

He looked down at us in the waning light of the red glow from the engine beneath and the moon overhead.

He said, “Did you at least remember my Coke?”

The ringing in my ears dissipated a bit, and I thought I heard the whinny from a horse.

I pushed Big Bryan off me and sat up.

I listened.

It was a voice.

I got up on my knees and slapped Bryan on the arm.

He looked around.  He heard it too.

It said, “Weeeee-ill...”

I got up on my boots and went closer.

There, on the side of the tar, against a tree, was a small truck.  The engine was still humming.


I ran over to the truck and looked in the side window.

I said, “Joseph!  You didn’t bail on us!”

He said, “Fuck no.”

I said, “Why you down over here?”

He said, “You guys trying to run me over.  Fuckers.”

We had almost killed him?

Joey said, “Weeee-ill.  I’m kinda fucked up.”

I said, “Joseph!  You gonna be OK.”

He said, “ I don’t know about that, but whatever you do, don’t stall the engine.”

Then he leaned over passed out.


Dude didn’t bail after all.

How about that?

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

No Deliverance   by Toadies 

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