Road to Badger Boy: Part 123456
Electric Boogaloo; Okays, sos the twitchy fella wit the dead cat hat introduced himself ta’ me as General Moroidmonger. He then saluted an’ did wha’ I guess was a jig. I tooks a step back, not ‘cuz o’ the impromptu soft-shoe buts the stench of his head gear twas overpowerin’. He den quickly puts me ina’ headlock ans the two o’ us tumble behind a bench. Da Genderal then squishes his mouth ta’ ma ear wispers.
“I’ve been commanded by Chieftain Ving Rhames and Buddha’s left foot to eradicate pedo-beastil-necrophiliac’s! Have you seen any?!”
“Peoples ‘aven sex wit underage dead animals?” I asked an’ da’ General nodded like he jus lost a vertebrae in his neck. “Sorry, not ta’ day.”
He den pulls da’ bottle o’ Thunderbird frum ma hand an’ spits out, “IsthisyourscanIhavesome?!” An takes one long pulla’ ma’ hooch. He shoves da’ bottle back in ma hand, jumps ta’ his feat an’ darts outta’ sight. Wells when I got up I could see ‘em tucked in da’ corner o’ the room starin’ at sum thin on da’ ceilin’.
A little put off wit the excessive slobber on ma’ bottle I tried ta’ clean it off in da’ drinkin’ fountain, buts I musta’ missed sum or da’ General puts sum thin in ma’ Thunderbird ‘cuz after ma first swig thins gots real weird. I’ms pretty observant o’ stuff like da’ walls breathin’ an’ havin’ Charles Bukowski ridin’ a unicorn stop an’ ask me if Jesus would make a good infielder fer the Astros.
*Sigh* way does this crap happin’ ta’ me.
“I’ve been commanded by Chieftain Ving Rhames and Buddha’s left foot to eradicate pedo-beastil-necrophiliac’s! Have you seen any?!”
“Peoples ‘aven sex wit underage dead animals?” I asked an’ da’ General nodded like he jus lost a vertebrae in his neck. “Sorry, not ta’ day.”
He den pulls da’ bottle o’ Thunderbird frum ma hand an’ spits out, “IsthisyourscanIhavesome?!” An takes one long pulla’ ma’ hooch. He shoves da’ bottle back in ma hand, jumps ta’ his feat an’ darts outta’ sight. Wells when I got up I could see ‘em tucked in da’ corner o’ the room starin’ at sum thin on da’ ceilin’.
A little put off wit the excessive slobber on ma’ bottle I tried ta’ clean it off in da’ drinkin’ fountain, buts I musta’ missed sum or da’ General puts sum thin in ma’ Thunderbird ‘cuz after ma first swig thins gots real weird. I’ms pretty observant o’ stuff like da’ walls breathin’ an’ havin’ Charles Bukowski ridin’ a unicorn stop an’ ask me if Jesus would make a good infielder fer the Astros.
*Sigh* way does this crap happin’ ta’ me.
posted by Captain Mog at 1:00 PM
9 Comments:
I don't know why this keeps happening to you, Gil, but I hope you keep on writing about it. Don't go all Hunter S. Thompson on us now.
Damn Hunter! Nows I'm gonna' have ta' bust out the black armband. Havn' used it since Ginsberg croaked.
I think you mean, break out the black beauties, right? Don't forget who we're talking about. Black beauties and a pint of ether!
I had sex with a dead animal once, but I swear to god it's rotten carcass told me it was 18, at least thats what I told the cops, That's me story an I'm stickin to it damnit.
Outstanding carnie. And if Charles comes back you just say, "Hey, would you bet your everlasting soul against it Chucky B?"
Riding a unicorn... well that's just all the rage with the bon monde these days.
Oh, and by the way, didn't your mother ever tell you NOT to drink hootch that a crazy dead cat wearing general has just spat his mouth juice into?
Darth-What does Hunter hav' ta' do wit a crappy book 'bout a horse?
Cad-Ya can never trust a dead carcass. They tell ya' they love ya' to get ya' in bed then *bam* in da' mornin' there gone an yer missin' $20 off da' dresser.
Latigo-If Charles comes back I thin I'll poop ma'self.
YGWIN-All dead authors travel in style in da' afterlife. Ya', ma' moms warned me, but she also said I'd go blind if I played wit Mr. Peepers an' I sees jus fine. Got sum big time hairy palms, but I cans see.
C'mon Gil, surely you know a slang term for amphetamines when you hear it.
Ah, Thunderbird. Delicious and packs a good buzz.
You lucky bastard.
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