DESERT SNOW CH 2 3SCAP3

[The Urbane Spaceman]

We didn’t know that we were partying with a demon. We did not know that this was why all of those people died.


(When the demon died, we danced upon his grave. We pissed on his grave.)


But it was a long time before we figured it all out.


Now for escape.


Crank this right the fuck up to 11.


Rrrrrrgh.


The rocks didn’t help anything at all. It was the falling sticks form Tellesco’s house that helped us with the dented fender. You see, this true tale is not about a sudden saving grace that a super power reigns down upon you. That shit is for fairy tales.



This is about how you have to do things for yourself. You see, you can wait for redemption all you wish and purchase roses and fondle your prayer beads, but in order to make a true effect upon your life, you have to make a fucking effort.



You make your own way. You may line your own road to perdition with the stones of your intention. And then you walk on it, like a fucking man. Maybe, just perhaps, if you do this, then you will earn the Trvth about yourself. Own this thing. It will speak well of you, no matter what happens.



Now it is time to raise your chalice to the wild west. We DRINK! now in honor of a good friend, one of the best. In spite of his imminent mortal destruction, he said that he will not DRY out. That, my dear, is how you go out. Not with a whimper. But with a fucking bang.



3.


2.


1.


CHUG!



The Kraken by Squirrel Nut Zippers (The Badfellow recommended this tonight, and that dastardly booznik approved it.)


*Ahem*


Joey said, “This fender will not break like glass! We need to get the fuck out of here. Help me grab this wood!” With that, he went and grabbed those smoking shards of Tellesco’s home and burned his hands in the process.



I said, “Hey Joseph! Mind your leather!” What I had intended to say was that he should use his leather to protect his hands, but this is all in hindsight. Armchair warrior. Monday morning quarterback. Of course, it did not make any sense at all during that moment. It probably contributed to the confusion. I panicked.


Hey, don’t look at me that way. I am no hero.


Joey screamed and Sean ran over and dumped the rest of the half-full bottle of Finlandia vodka over Joey’s hands to stop the burning.


Well, as you might surmise, it did two things, which are these:


1. It burned the hell out Joey’s new wounds. I mean, never pour alcohol on burns. It burns. Ya think?


2. It disinfected Joey’s wounds, much like cauterization, except that it did not stop the bleeding.



Joey howled in anguish and I ran to him and picked him up. I don’t know why I did this, except that I knew he was about to bury his hands in the fig orchard dirt to strop the intense pain. Manure. Shit.



You know, I’m never one to pick another man and give him a bear hug,


But at that moment, it seemed like the right thing to do.



I don’t what that says about the likes of me.



And I don’t fucking care.


Then we all went home and ate nachos and everything was better.


.

[mistah willies]

You should name this chapter Mollymudbutt. It's #42 on the element chart.

Look it up. Get some drinks in ya.

Jeez.

[oettinger]

Should`ve pissed on em.