.
Gemini. Blue
The giant black horse with the flaming blue mane began his descent to the bottom of the crater, following a trail that had been rutted eons ago. The wheels of the black carriage fit them grooves like a marriage made in heaven.
The reins to this horse were held by an angry cowboy preacher who wore a broken set of eyeglasses; one lens broken down the half by a bullet that had killed him a century ago when it entered his brain.
Glinty McFlintlock had some business to tend to. He would not be thwarted.
= = = = = = = = =
“Sean! What the fuck?! Wake up dude!” I grabbed Sean’s arms and brought him straight up. His eyelids fluttered and he looked at me with one eye, and the other one wandered off to the other side.
“Willie Boy, let me alone. Sleepy…”
He wandered off into his dream again. His eyes closed, and I felt a disconnection, a sort of release in his shoulders.
He was going away. I would not have it. I shook his shoulders over and over again, but he would not respond.
He was taking the next flight out, ticket bought, security check cool, buckle up and let’s go through the pamphlet in the seat pocket in front of you. Locate the nearest exit, it may be right behind you.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Tellesco knew his ride. He knew that his fat, chunky tires could get him out of the desert silt and back onto the road, the path ahead, if he didn’t drive like a dumb-ass. He would not spin his tires. He needed to feel the response of his bitch, and so he drove bare-footed.
When you drive in such a manner, you are connected to your vehicle. You two are wedded. You know when to ease off her accelerator, and when to tickle her fun button.
All good marriages are this way. It is give and take. When you give her some good thrusting, she will take what ever you want to give her, and she will deliver the both of you to the moon.
+ + + + + + + + + +
Fat Jerry had his hands full. The lump was in bad shape. The blood from the top of his head was ruining the fine velvet in the back of Fat Jerry’s hearse.
And he had yet to go and get the other lump. All he wanted to do was to meet those folks who raced along, coming closer. He felt something about them.
They called to him.
They could dance quite well. They would love to dance with him. They were worthy adversaries. They had plenty of bones to snap. And they wanted to snap his bones.
This could be quite a lot of fun.
By now, you know that Fat Jerry was the sort of person who could not deny his true nature.
He sat in his front seat, and he looked in his rearview mirror.
Through the downpour of rain, he saw them lights grow brighter. Hunger for pleasure crawled across his scalp with the purple mohawk, and down his neck, across his back, down his arms, across his chest, down his belly, and…
…well…
..he got the willies.
= = = = = = = = =
Glinty McFlintlock reigned in his steed. They had arrived. The old shack glinted a flickering oil-lamp in the window, and smoke wafted out of the chimney. Home, sweet home.
He jumped down, took his old preacher-style cowboy hat off, and swung it against his thigh to clean it off. Then he stalked over to the side of the carriage.
His horse snorted and breathed heavy. Mayhem was done for the night.
Glinty grabbed the door handle, twisted and clicked it open, and looked deep inside.
“Well hey there you young whipper thnapperth! How ya doing?”
I looked back at him from Sean and almost jumped out of my skin.
A ghost was talking to me.
On the surface of the moon.
I could not conceive of this. It was incontheivable.
I pulled Sean’s limp body back up, close to me.
“Please help us.”
Glinty, well, he nodded.
God Help You.
God Help Us All.
---willies out.
.
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.
Showing posts with label mayhem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mayhem. Show all posts
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
167 Mayhem
.
For Tellesco. I Got a Girl. By Tripping Daisy.
Tellesco drove away with his dead girlfriend.
Yeah,
He had a girl.
How cool was that for him?
And you thought he was in love with Sean.
Well, you would be correct on that point. But it was more like adoration. Nothing sexual. You see, he and Sean had connected in a way that many of us will never know.
When you have gone through some serious shit, and you don’t think that anyone else on this tiny blue marble has never been through it,
Well,
When you discover that you are not alone in the vast eternity of space, it kinda has an effect on you.
You become a soul mate, of sorts.
Enough said on that.
Myself, I had a blood brother and sister, and I was blood brother to the Sans Joking desert river valley due to the Figging Crash.
My two blood relatives sped to the closest Hostibal, which meant I was all alone out on the off-skirts of North Fuckno.
Except for the fat punk in his hearse, and a ghost cowboy, of which I had no clue.
I was heading towards mayhem and doom.
I found my mettle, and it was ugly.
Damn.
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +
Fat Jerry was heading for a crash.
Black Keys. Stop Stop. This is loud, so turn down your volume, my friend. Or, do like I am, and turn it right the fuck up.
The rain strummed along on his windshield like a guitar out of tune. Fat Jerry gassed his carburetor again, and he smashed into the ass end of the car on the right.
It swerved and caught its traction again, and then its brake lights flashed bright.
Jerry punched his ass again and swung left.
The car spun around and hit some dirt. And then it flipped. The young man inside was not smart enough to have strapped in with his seatbelt, and so his head and upper half flung itself through the driver’s side window, and he felt the impact of the roof in the desert dunes, upon his top parts, as it rolled over and over again.
Dude would not be waking up ever again.
Always wear your seat belt.
Fat Jerry giggled like a creepy baby, and then he tickled the fun button below his steering wheel, and the nitrous oxide pulsed again into his engine.
His hearse jetted forward again towards the other car.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sean watched the headlights in front of him grow brighter. Behind them he saw a blue flame whipping wildly in the black hole of the night.
It entered the small slot between the pair of cars ahead, and then an explosion of blue gun fire caught the one on the left with shock and awe.
The driver swerved and spun around on the slick, crumbly tar. He disappeared from view.
He was the one who got away. He went back to the other purple robes and told his story.
The other car kept right on speeding towards Sean.
They would meet, shake hands, and go have a drink at The Dunes.
Yeah. Right.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I saw the one of the cars racing towards me spin around and then flip and tumble, and a new set of headlamps took its place.
I don’t know why, but I aimed the old ’57 towards the pair on the left. Fuck the new set of lights that had appeared.
That set of lights swerved into the other one, which swung off to the left when I slammed into its driver’s side.
T-boned that fucker.
We’d been playing chicken, but now it didn’t matter anymore.
Smash,
Crash,
Sleep.
Gone and out for the count.
Sorry about that.
Fail.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sean smashed into the other car head on, and it flipped up and over his own ride. He kept steering even though his windshield was gone, baby, gone, and he had glass and blood in his mouth. He was chuggin on his new set of false teeth as he went into the desert dust for a nice, wet nap. His roof was caved in on his head, but he was slumped over as his car came to rest.
He had worn his seat belt.
Always wear your seat belt when you play chicken.
Chust sayin’
God Help You.
God Help Us All
---tdcwillies out.
.
For Tellesco. I Got a Girl. By Tripping Daisy.
Tellesco drove away with his dead girlfriend.
Yeah,
He had a girl.
How cool was that for him?
And you thought he was in love with Sean.
Well, you would be correct on that point. But it was more like adoration. Nothing sexual. You see, he and Sean had connected in a way that many of us will never know.
When you have gone through some serious shit, and you don’t think that anyone else on this tiny blue marble has never been through it,
Well,
When you discover that you are not alone in the vast eternity of space, it kinda has an effect on you.
You become a soul mate, of sorts.
Enough said on that.
Myself, I had a blood brother and sister, and I was blood brother to the Sans Joking desert river valley due to the Figging Crash.
My two blood relatives sped to the closest Hostibal, which meant I was all alone out on the off-skirts of North Fuckno.
Except for the fat punk in his hearse, and a ghost cowboy, of which I had no clue.
I was heading towards mayhem and doom.
I found my mettle, and it was ugly.
Damn.
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +
Fat Jerry was heading for a crash.
Black Keys. Stop Stop. This is loud, so turn down your volume, my friend. Or, do like I am, and turn it right the fuck up.
The rain strummed along on his windshield like a guitar out of tune. Fat Jerry gassed his carburetor again, and he smashed into the ass end of the car on the right.
It swerved and caught its traction again, and then its brake lights flashed bright.
Jerry punched his ass again and swung left.
The car spun around and hit some dirt. And then it flipped. The young man inside was not smart enough to have strapped in with his seatbelt, and so his head and upper half flung itself through the driver’s side window, and he felt the impact of the roof in the desert dunes, upon his top parts, as it rolled over and over again.
Dude would not be waking up ever again.
Always wear your seat belt.
Fat Jerry giggled like a creepy baby, and then he tickled the fun button below his steering wheel, and the nitrous oxide pulsed again into his engine.
His hearse jetted forward again towards the other car.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sean watched the headlights in front of him grow brighter. Behind them he saw a blue flame whipping wildly in the black hole of the night.
It entered the small slot between the pair of cars ahead, and then an explosion of blue gun fire caught the one on the left with shock and awe.
The driver swerved and spun around on the slick, crumbly tar. He disappeared from view.
He was the one who got away. He went back to the other purple robes and told his story.
The other car kept right on speeding towards Sean.
They would meet, shake hands, and go have a drink at The Dunes.
Yeah. Right.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I saw the one of the cars racing towards me spin around and then flip and tumble, and a new set of headlamps took its place.
I don’t know why, but I aimed the old ’57 towards the pair on the left. Fuck the new set of lights that had appeared.
That set of lights swerved into the other one, which swung off to the left when I slammed into its driver’s side.
T-boned that fucker.
We’d been playing chicken, but now it didn’t matter anymore.
Smash,
Crash,
Sleep.
Gone and out for the count.
Sorry about that.
Fail.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sean smashed into the other car head on, and it flipped up and over his own ride. He kept steering even though his windshield was gone, baby, gone, and he had glass and blood in his mouth. He was chuggin on his new set of false teeth as he went into the desert dust for a nice, wet nap. His roof was caved in on his head, but he was slumped over as his car came to rest.
He had worn his seat belt.
Always wear your seat belt when you play chicken.
Chust sayin’
God Help You.
God Help Us All
---tdcwillies out.
.
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